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.

44. The Assassin

"Thane" from Mass Effect 2

XLIV. The Assassin

(Shepard)

Starting over with Miranda in this way—on Illium, anyway—we'd spent all night and morning in my bed. Talking. About everything and nothing at all. Even the nothing felt consequential, in that we'd chosen to take nothing for granted. So by the time we did separate, with Miranda returning to her room to shower and get ready for the day—and to send Samara her official welcoming email—I still felt her next to me. I felt her in my arms as I took my own shower, with her as this misting mirage as I held myself, in reality.

The simplest image of me standing behind her, kissing the slope of Miranda's neck. The more vivid moments of her movements over me, into me. Touching her face just so. Admiring. Listening to every breath she took for me, every sound she made for me.

I regretted shying away from that.

I regretted not jumping into things when we could; taking Miranda in her bed, in her apartment.

At the same time, we couldn't rush. Miranda needed us to do this right or not at all. That still applied.

For now, my imagination had to compensate.

More immediate, Miranda and I had certain plans for today, before the next mission.

Shiala agreed to meet with us this afternoon. I looked forward to hearing what she had to say.

Before then, Miranda had one other obligation. She'd already told me about her plans to speak with Zaeed, and why. I'd noticed how well he and Jack got along. Knowing that there was something more psychological behind their bond, I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Not to mention, Miranda and I had both noticed that Zaeed's work productivity had fallen recently. Whether it was because of how many team members we had now, or because of his personal issues, this problem couldn't go on. All the more reason for us to pick up James Vega, our arms master to help in the armory.

I'd given Miranda my blessing to handle this issue with Zaeed as she saw fit.

While she spoke with him, I decided to take this extra time to prepare for the mission with Thane.

First, I looked over Vasir's intel that Miranda had forwarded to me earlier:

From: Vasir, Tela – FW: Thane Krios.

Lawson,

Once again, time is of the essence.

I have confirmation: Krios intends to assassinate Nassana Dantius tonight.

I recommend locating Krios while he's infiltrating the Dantius Towers. Whether you catch him before, during, or after the act, it doesn't matter. No one will lose sleep over Nassana's death. Just be sure to find Krios during this window. Otherwise, he'll disappear again. This is your best chance to recruit him.

Even though Krios is an enigma, I managed to find some personal information on him. When you told me he was a drell, I wondered if he had Kepral's Syndrome. It's a genetic disease that erodes the lungs, leading to severe respiratory problems, before eventual death. After the hanar rescued several drell from their hostile homeworld, and brought them to Kahje, the drell couldn't handle the constant rainy, humid climate on the hanar homeworld. This disease is an unfortunate result of their rescue. Krios used to have Kepral's Syndrome. He made a rare, miraculous recovery, thanks to genetic engineering from the hanar. Although there was a dark period when it looked like he was going to die. Could be the case that he's trying to atone for whatever he's done in his life as a career assassin. Just making an educated guess.

Meet me at the cargo transfer level tonight at 7:30pm. I'll drive you and your team to the Dantius Towers. If you want my advice, you should limit this operation to as few people as possible. Nassana has her Eclipse mercs out in force. Partly due to paranoia on her end. But some areas of the Dantius Towers are currently under construction. You could exploit this weakness if you so choose. As long as you're aware of the risks. Sending a team to meet Eclipse at the front door will only slow you down. Given you have the best infiltrator in the galaxy as your commander, you might want to lean on that instead.

-Vasir

With Vasir's advice in mind, I spent a long while going over my schematics for the Dantius Towers.

Going through the vents, and taking hidden pathways up through the towers' many floors: usually the most reliable option. This time was no exception. I was able to map out a number of viable paths this way. One other question remained. Would I do this alone, or would I bring someone with me?

We had Kasumi and EDI available. I wasn't the only infiltrator on the team anymore.

Their infiltration skills lent themselves more to combat, and breaching security systems. Crawling around the ducts and moving quickly in limited spaces was more my style. Maybe they'd be best suited to create a distraction elsewhere.

I was about to make a decision about this—until Miranda sent me a quick message. Finished speaking with Zaeed now, she asked me to meet her on the bridge, so we could go speak with Shiala together. Already wearing my casual Alliance blues, I shelved my pre-planning and went down the elevator.

When I found Miranda waiting for me, she looked just as annoyed as I'd anticipated.

"Hey, babe," I said, giving her a quick kiss.

"Shepard," she murmured, letting me hold her hand. "Thank you for coming to find me so quickly."

As we left the Normandy, I gave Miranda some time to calm down.

She seemed to appreciate the gesture.

By the time we arrived to the rapid transit station, her mood had mostly returned to normal. Especially once we made to the air-conditioned chill of one of the cars, escaping the sunny heat of the afternoon. I held Miranda close to me. Sensing her improvements, her relaxations after a while. Even though she was okay again, I could tell she still had a lot on her mind.

I prompted her, "So, how'd everything go with Zaeed? Did he listen to you?"

Miranda sighed against my shoulder. "More or less. You know how he is with me."

"That doesn't sound good."

"It was fine, really," she insisted. "He knew he'd gotten too attached to Jack, unnecessarily. But Zaeed wasn't at all forthcoming about his reasons why. Jack's speculations about his past were quite accurate. I know he has some unfinished business with that Vido Santiago character, from the Blue Suns. This doesn't seem to be related to that old grudge of his. This appears to be far more emotional on his end."

"Well, speaking of that," I remembered, "I should bring this up with him. Vido Santiago, at least. Maybe at some point he'll talk about his other personal issues. This opens up an opportunity, though."

"Hmm, what opportunity do you mean?"

"We already took care of Mordin's personal mission. I'm assuming everyone else will have something similar. Their own pressing issues they need help wrapping up, before we hit the Collector homeworld."

"That's true," agreed Miranda. "Ideally, we could get through these over the next several weeks. No one should be distracted once we make the jump through the Omega 4 Relay. In Zaeed's case, it looks like he has more than one issue bothering him. He'll need to decide which is more important."

"I'm thinking the same. I'll have a one-on-one with everyone soon. Find out what they need."

"I'm glad you're taking the initiative on this. I'm sure the others will appreciate it."

I had to ask, "What about you?"

Nearly startled, Miranda asked back, "What about me?"

"Do you have…a personal mission you need us to take care of?"

"Shepard, you already know what's been on my mind lately…"

"The Illusive Man. Your father. And your sister."

Miranda reasoned, "Yes, and I don't have a mission in mind for those three people."

"Well, I still want you to think it over."

"If you insist. To be honest, I'm more concerned about this talk with Shiala. At least right now."

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"Considering the knowledge she has—it would be nice to hear her say the words. Confirming what we already know. It's been so long since the two of you first spoke on Feros. Zhu's Hope was an age ago."

"You're right. It'll be good to have that confirmation, like you said."

We soon found Shiala waiting for us along an overpass, gazing out to the view of Nos Astra. The sunny weather had mostly dimmed, with clouds beginning to come in, obscuring the day's light. Humming in concern, Shiala gazed up at the change in the skies. She then spotted Miranda with me as we approached. Smiling in a warm greeting, she looked glad to see us.

"Commander Shepard," said Shiala. "Miranda. Thank you for meeting with me today."

"How are you doing, Shiala?" I asked. "Where did you go after Zhu's Hope?"

Shiala bowed, explaining, "I am doing well, Commander. After leaving the human colony on Feros, I decided to travel around, searching for any information I could find on your immunity to indoctrination. My search led me to Thessia, where a number of records are kept about the Prothean Empire. Without the context of my knowledge, the records would not have made much sense to me. Yet I was able to glean just enough, confirming that the Protheans once used your exact methods. Of course, they were not very successful in their endeavors. But the fact remains that you are replicating their attempts."

"If the Protheans had more time, they might've won the war. They might still be alive today."

"This is true. Already I can see that much has changed over the past two years, since the Battle at the Citadel. Luckily for all of us, your victory should not be an isolated event. You are on course to repeat it."

Miranda seemed surprised. "You're able to gauge Shepard's state that quickly?"

"Indeed," replied Shiala. "Ever since the incident with the Thorian, I have remained in-tune with the commander's state of mind. I believe I was privy to the exact moment when her protector changed. I can tell that it was a seamless transition. Your bond feels much stronger than the previous one."

"You're able to confirm that I'm her protector? Is everything working just fine?"

"Yes, this much is evident. You are the commander's protector, Miranda. There is no chaos that marked her previous bond. No clashing forces or obscured facts. The knowledge I have gained over the years has helped me see with more clarity. The bond you share is one of harmony, balance, and mediation. Psychologically, you are both equals, and you each provide what the other lacks. You are on track to gain a much greater understanding of one another."

I liked the sound of that. "So we can only go up from here."

"Absolutely. You and Miranda have nothing to worry over. Although, there is something."

"Something?" I echoed.

"Someone appears to be waiting for you, Commander. I sense their patience, devoted and unyielding."

"What do you mean, Shiala? Who is waiting for me?"

Shiala gave me such an unusual look. Knowing, otherworldly.

And then she said softly, "I believe you will soon find out. There is no need for me to tell you anything further. It is best that you discover the truth on your own."

"Hmm, if you say so."

Miranda still wanted to know, "Is it true Shepard can only have one person influencing her this way? Protecting her?"

Shiala noticed the source of her concern. "As with anything else, our bonds with others will always influence us, to a certain extent. However, in this case, it would not be enough to protect Commander Shepard from indoctrination. They cannot act as any sort of safety net, either. I would merely call them supplementary bonds at best. Everything hinges on what the two of you share together. No one else."

I noticed how anxious Miranda seemed, having this confirmation as well. This spike in her worrying, her concerns, her self-consciousness—as ever, she feared what would happen whenever she made another mistake. Thankfully, the discussions we'd had recently helped to calm her…as much as possible, anyway. She was able to breathe with me, leaning on our trust together. Whatever happened in the future would happen, regardless of how hard we tried to stop it. We had to keep moving forward. No matter the cost.

We spent a while longer talking with Shiala about this.

Mostly Miranda asking questions, down to granular details—with Shiala happy to answer her.

I stayed quiet. Listening. Watching the way Miranda absorbed the information. Because she knew how important this was. How the fate of the galaxy depended on this information; depended on the two of us staying together, and staying alive. As capable as Miranda was, I trusted her to stand by my side. I trusted this time we had, from now until roughly the end of the year, when the Reapers would arrive. Time for us to grow closer, to get to know each other more. To figure out how to make this all work.

As much as Miranda and Shiala could've kept speaking, there was only so much time left.

We had a handful of hours until the briefing with the team—before meeting Vasir for Thane's mission.

Still, the skies above had spoken. Thickening, darkening rain clouds. We had to get inside.

So we decided to part ways. Shiala had a transport scheduled to return to Thessia. She promised to stay in-touch with Miranda via email, if anything else came up. She wished us luck and went on her way.

"May fortune smile upon you both."

Fortune was really what it came down to, in the end.

Miranda and I returned to the rapid transit station, discussing how to spend the rest of our free time.

A sudden email she received seemed to answer that for us.

"Oh, God," she muttered, voice trembling. "This can't be happening…"

I held her shoulders, steadying. "Babe? What's going on?"

"One of my agents shadowing Oriana just contacted me. My sister wants us to meet. Face-to-face. No hiding this time. I have no idea how she managed to get in-touch with my agent. Then again, my father tried to warn me about this… Oriana is apparently quite resourceful. And stubborn. I shouldn't be surprised."

"Are you ready to meet your sister like this?"

Miranda lamented, "Shepard, I doubt I'll ever be ready… But I don't have a choice. She deserves an explanation from me. She deserves the truth. Whether I'm prepared or not. I owe that much to her."

"Okay, then," I replied.

A moment passed, with Miranda set to reply to the email, her shaking hand hovering over her omni-tool. She kept blanking out, unsure of how to proceed. Unprepared. Not ready at all.

"Miranda, do you want me with you? While you talk to her."

Remembering herself, she finally breathed in and out. "Yes, I want you with me… Or at least somewhere nearby."

"We should go to a secure location. Either the Normandy or your apartment."

Breathing more, calming more, Miranda could think clearly now.

"Let's go back to my place," she decided. "I'll ask my agent to send the message along. Oriana can meet us there. Hopefully before it starts raining. Then again, after how things have gone with you and me, perhaps the rain isn't an omen. Maybe it's a good sign after all. That's what I'd like to believe, anyway."

---

Back at Miranda's apartment, the rain chose not to wait for us. The downpour poured on outside the picture windows, drenching the glass in thin rivers, obscuring the gray of the cloudy day beyond. Sitting in the living room just near those windows, and that gray, Miranda dealt with her nerves. She stared out at that misted obscurity; here in the kitchen, I stared at this other mist, of heat rising from the whistling kettle in front of me. I knew Miranda smiled in this exact moment—my grumbling over the noise, I was sure she could hear from where she was. Even while I was grumpy, I liked giving her this little bit of joy.

Pouring this steaming water into Miranda's tea cup, I wondered how this whole thing would go. I wondered just how much of the truth Miranda would give to her sister. Or if she would instead choose to be as vague as possible, likely leading to disagreements and hurt feelings. Chamomile heat and honeyed sweetness seemed to be the best way to meet the moment. I hoped it would do the trick.

As I brought Miranda her tea, I had to admire her.

There she sat over the black leather of her couch, one long leg crossed over the other. The blue, black, and orange of her Cerberus uniform shined in this gloomy light from the windows, reflecting the rainy day outside. Such a deep look of contemplation: Miranda's beauty exceeded my perception. She gazed out at the day, thinking over a thousand problems at once. Her grace and stature refused to falter, holding her composure well. Even as she touched the collar around her neck on occasion, she never once gave herself away. Not even here in the comfort and safety of her own home.

I had a feeling her walls and barriers wouldn't last for long. Maybe the tea would melt that her ice as well.

Mindful of her emotional state, I knelt before Miranda's place on the couch.

"Here, baby," I said, offering this tea to her.

Blinking as quickly as the rain spattering over the windows, she turned her stare to me.

"Shepard…thank you," whispered Miranda, accepting the cup with both hands. "You're a sweetheart."

As she took a sip, smiling in satisfaction, she seemed to notice something else. Delicate, she placed the tips of her fingers along the length of her throat. Hiding the sounds of her swallowing; the reality of it.

"It's too quiet," she grumbled. "I don't mean to be rude."

"Rude?" I asked. "What do you mean? It's only me." Miranda turned the television on anyway. At a lowered volume. Just to have some white noise around. "Babe, you know I don't mind any of that."

"I know… I've always censored myself this way. Held back. Even while I was completely alone."

"You don't have to do that with me."

"You're right. Old habits." Staring out the window again, Miranda rolled her ankle around, seeming anxious again. "I wonder how long it will take Oriana to get here. My agent told me she's driving. I wish she didn't have to. I don't trust those people out on the road, in this storm… What if she gets into an accident? While she's on her way to see me? It would be all my fault… I couldn't live with myself."

Sensing where this was going, I tried to calm her anyway: "Miranda…"

"God, I know. I'm not helping."

"You know, but you're still worrying."

"Well, sometimes, worrying feels like a survival tactic. Like I'm preparing for the worst ahead of time."

It hurt to hear that from her. "Are you not letting yourself accept the upside? The positive. The good."

Miranda struggled to admit—"I have such a difficult time accepting positivity. I keep expecting something bad to happen. Something terrible. Something to balance out the good feelings. All as some sort of reminder that I'm not meant to be happy. I'm not meant to be okay. I'm not allowed to be…"

I spotted the way Miranda's gloved hands trembled as she held her tea.

Gently, I took the cup from her, setting it over a coaster on the coffee table.

Miranda gripped her hands together instead. Self-regulating. Controlling herself. Nearly failing.

"I don't want my sister to go through the same thing. I worry that she will, once she knows more about me. I worry what will come to pass, once she's aware of what I've done. The normal life she has with her friends and family… Compared to what I've had, it's practically idyllic. Perfect. Too good to be true."

Sitting next to her now, I felt how close Miranda was—this close to spiraling.

She let me hold her hands. She let me see this about her. She let this show:

"What if I'm the problem? What if I'm toxic, and I infect her with this disease of misfortune? What if there's something wrong with me…?"

As much as this broke my heart, I found the resolve to stay strong for her.

I did my best to say, "I don't think there's anything wrong with you."

Staring down at our locked hands, Miranda shook her head. "I want to believe that."

"Then what's stopping you?"

She couldn't answer me.

Not with words.

Crystalline wetness coated her eyes, downcast and blurring as the rain did to the windows.

Trusting me with such ease, Miranda let the same fall from her eyes. She let me see her like this. She allowed me in like this, letting me see everything. Her struggling, her sniffling; her softness in not controlling herself to such extremes, all the time. She opened herself to me in ways I couldn't. In the same ways I'd refused just yesterday. Blame removed, undistributed, she let herself be this with me.

"Hey, come here," I said, easing her closer. "It's all right."

As this reflection of the times, I held Miranda in my arms. She buried her face beneath mine, emotions slipping down the slope of my neck. The blue of my shirt absorbed that slipping, darkening and growing this wet spot, larger and larger. Even as it stuck and grew cold, I wore Miranda's trust as this badge of honor. Directly over my chest, badged just so: Miranda stayed right at this spot with me, never once pulling away. Never once shying away, moving away from my hand stroking the back of her head. A reflection, truly, because she faced me this time—our positive image from the first time I'd held her on the Normandy. That night in the comm room, when she'd allowed me to pull her back from the abyss.

I loved being this for her.

I loved the way she held onto me, gripping. I love that she relied on me like this, shame dissolved away.

Miranda sniffled and said, "I just want her to be okay, Shepard. I just want her to be happy… Because I never was. And I know what it's like! I don't want that for her. I can't allow my sister to suffer like I did."

"Oriana's going to be fine," I soothed. "She'll be better off once you have this talk."

"How do you know for certain…?"

"She'll be a lot happier, knowing she has a sister who loves her."

Needing to believe me, Miranda's breathing steadied.

Calming, slowing, she found her own center again, right here in my arms.

She couldn't stay like this for very long. Soon enough, she pulled away a bit, enough to wipe her face.

"I'm being ridiculous," she criticized, sniffling more. "I can't let her see me like this."

Reaching to the tissue on her table, I pulled some over to her.

Miranda accepted the softness, murmuring her thanks. She quickly turned around, needing a moment.

I smiled anyway, watching as her body hitched with her movements, her heart's momentum.

She then spoke with a stuffed noise, voice thickened, "My sister's going be here soon…"

"You sure you want me to stay?" I asked.

"Yes, please… You can use my terminal to continue preparing for the mission, if you'd like. Having you around will help me stay calm. I just—need a few minutes to breathe. Before she arrives. That's all."

"I understand. I can go wait for her outside the building."

"If you could escort Oriana inside, that would be wonderful. I'll feel better knowing you're there."

Sealing this promise, I kissed the back of her head, lingering. "I will."

"All right," accepted Miranda, sighing with relief. "I told my agent to direct her to the parking lot across the street. She has a white car. I'm sure she'll recognize you right away. Take my umbrella by the door."

"Okay. I'll be back with her in a bit."

Taking Miranda's umbrella—and one of her jackets that were too short for me, upon her insistence that I not catch a cold—I went downstairs to the lobby. I passed by a few other tenants who'd gotten rained-on, annoyed as they were over the sudden change in weather. Their distractions kept them from recognizing me. I enjoyed the relative anonymity while I could.

Outside in that parking lot, I soon found Oriana's white car landing from the skies.

I made it to her car door just as she opened it, revealing her smile, her happiness to see me again.

"Commander, is that you?" asked Oriana, beaming in softness.

"It's me, Oriana," I confirmed. "Your sister's waiting for you upstairs."

"You didn't have to come out here for me. Thank you so much. You're very sweet."

Dressed for the sunny weather, this rain had no doubt caught Oriana by surprise.

Miranda's sister complimented me more, as I took off this jacket, settling it over her shoulders instead.

She was happy to walk with me under the umbrella, as I escorted her to the apartment building.

"Sorry about what happened last time," she said, as a calm, gentle echo of her sister. "I was being silly. Trying to get her to come out of hiding. I knew she was there. Somewhere. I didn't mean to bother you."

"You didn't bother me," I replied. "Don't worry about it."

Oriana giggled softly. "You did seem a little flustered, you know."

"It was…a complicated situation."

"Yes, I'm sure it was."

Talking with her as we headed up the elevator, I noticed so many contrasts. Oriana's natural tenderness compared to Miranda; the stark differences in their temperaments. Miranda was such a hard woman. And for too many reasons. Reasons she'd managed to shield Oriana from, in choosing to rescue her, and give her this life with her family here on Illium. This was exactly what Miranda had wanted for her. But I could tell that there was something missing. A few pauses here and there in Oriana's speech. The faint wandering of her tone whenever she mentioned Miranda by name. Her many unanswered questions.

Once we made it to the 60th floor, heading down the hallways, I saw more of those questions.

Maybe she wondered about the possibilities: if she could've lived here with Miranda instead.

Whatever the case, I felt Oriana's awe over this place. Elevation and esteem.

What could have been.

Entering Miranda's apartment, her sister's amazement swelled even more, well up to the high ceiling.

Miranda was already at the entrance. Waiting for us.

When she saw that I didn't have her jacket on anymore, I saw those worries growing.

But then she saw Oriana wearing it instead. And she saw my displays, as I took the jacket off from her sister's shoulders: mindful and courteous. Miranda knew what I'd done. Pure love for me filled her eyes.

Subtle enough, I stood off to the side, drying Miranda's umbrella and fastening it away.

Smiling in that softness, Oriana went over to her.

"Hello, there," she said. "It's wonderful to finally see you up-close. You have no idea."

Miranda tried to set her nerves aside. "The feeling's mutual… It's been such a long time. How are you?"

Oriana gave the simplest response, of giving her a warm hug.

Warmed by that warmth, Miranda smiled into their embrace. She smiled at me, too.

The two of them went to the living room together. Sitting on the couch, they spoke over tea, going over every single detail they could think of. I sat in Miranda's office at her computer, continuing my preparations for the mission tonight. Every now and then, I'd tuned back into their conversation. Even-toned and full of understanding, they listened to each other. They gave each other the benefit of the doubt. They forgave, and reasoned, and sympathized. They had such parity with one another, already, despite never having spoken before this day.

Miranda answered each of Oriana's questions truthfully. About why she rescued her from their father. About what had brought her to that decision. About how she'd done it, and when. And about how she'd chosen Oriana's current family, who still remained completely unaware. Miranda explained everything about Cerberus, and why she personally chose to join the organization, despite their terrible reputation. Oriana was shocked to learn of Miranda's personal struggles, but as with the rest, she quickly understood. She couldn't fault her older sister for those choices.

"It must've been awful for you, losing everything like that."

"It was. I never wanted you to go through the same thing. I'm glad you're okay here with your family."

Their conversation hit a wall over the current day. Miranda's current mission with me, with our team.

Maybe using the term suicide mission was a bit much so soon. Even if it was the brutal, honest truth.

Because, again, Oriana understood. She knew that we had to deal with the Collectors; that this was important, and that it mattered. But learning the harsh reality still set her back. She stayed quiet enough, yet I knew her emotions had found her. And just as I had done earlier, Miranda took on my role, being that protector for her sister this time.

"I'm sorry. If I could stay here with you, then I absolutely would. I know this is a shock."

"No, it's all right… Your mission's important. You tried to shield me from your life. I see that now."

Less forthcoming, Miranda explained her reasons why. The reasons for that shielding, coddling.

Even though Oriana didn't like it, she chose not to complain. She simply asked if things could be different from this point forward. If they could stay in-touch from now on.

Miranda couldn't give her an answer. Not right away.

They both went quiet for a while.

Eventually, the day began to darken. The rain continued on. And our free time today was nearly over.

Filled with regret, Miranda told Oriana the truth. That she had to leave with me for a mission. She couldn't give the details. Only that it would be dangerous. Oriana understood, as always, but her sorrow remained. More silence punctured their moments together. This reality put a damper on things.

By the time we escorted Oriana back to her car, she managed to find more forgiveness. More understanding. More sympathy, more empathy. At the very least, Miranda offered her email address, promising to write back if Oriana messaged her. And Oriana promised she would write to her soon—after taking some time to think things over. No regrets: she embraced the both of us, Miranda and me both, showing her appreciation one last time. When she drove off, Miranda stood beneath this umbrella with me, at once glad for the catharsis of their meeting, and worried about the pressure this would bring. Pressure to do well, and to keep her sister from missing her loss. That many more reasons to do her best; and many, many more reasons to avoid making any irreversible mistakes, for her sister's sake.

---

Getting ready for the briefing—and the mission itself—I spent this extra time in my private cabin, alone.

Already in my stealth suit, I sat on my bed, staring up at the window space above. Illium's nighttime rain continued to fall, blurring the violet lights of the Normandy's kinetic barriers. I already knew my shields would keep me dry from the storm. So I tried to factor in how this mission would go with the weather. Not every section of the Dantius Towers would be indoors. Especially at the very top—near Nassana's penthouse—where the construction took place, up near a bridge. The wind hazard up there was already a problem. Getting a team across with several Eclipse mercs in the way, with the rain causing even more hazards—it sounded like a disaster to me.

In the end, I found myself leaning on Vasir's advice to only bring a few people along.

Or maybe I could just handle this by myself. That was always an option.

Yet I worried that Miranda wouldn't let me go alone. She would insist on joining me no matter what.

With that obvious information in mind, I made my way down to the comm room.

And I recognized what felt like the end of an era. At least for these briefings before recruitment missions.

Officially, after we picked up Thane, Lieutenant James Vega was the last person on our list of dossiers. I didn't plan on making a big deal out of recruiting him. We would all go back to my hometown soon enough. I already let him know to expect us within the next week or so. The two of us would meet up, have a talk, and then I'd send him to the Normandy. Nothing more.

To that end, I soaked in the moment as I entered the comm room.

Everyone's sudden silence.

Everyone's reverence and respect for me. Especially Miranda as we made brief eye contact.

As I made my way to the head of the table, I took special note of the progress we'd made. Building our team from that very first briefing before Omega, with just Miranda and Legion with me: we'd nearly filled out the center table with this standing space. Miranda, Legion, Zaeed, Mordin, Garrus, Jack, Tali, Kaidan, Kasumi, EDI, and now Samara—they each stood at their respective spaces, in order of joining us.

Halfway to the suicide mission, after we took care of everyone's personal worries and concerns.

I estimated we would get through a dozen of those operations by late summer. Conservatively.

But, for now, Thane awaited.

I began the briefing:

"This is our final mission on Illium. We're here to pick up Thane Krios, a drell assassin. He was trained from childhood as an elite killer. Tonight, he's set his sights on Nassana Dantius, a corrupt businesswoman known for abusing her employees with slave labor contracts. She's holed up in her penthouse in the Dantius Towers, expecting a visit from Thane soon. I'm not interested in saving Nassana at all. What matters is that we find Thane before he escapes again. Nassana will have her Eclipse mercs everywhere. Going in as a full team isn't practical. We'll need to play it safe and smart.

"To that end, I'm not taking any risks. I want all of you to stay here. I'll go in and handle this myself. I've already mapped out a simple plan to reach Nassana's penthouse, while evading any Eclipse mercs in the way. It's only a matter of getting it done. It won't take me that long."

As I expected, Miranda objected—"Shepard, I can't let you do that! It's too dangerous for you to go by yourself. Nassana's defenses are top notch. Who knows what other traps she's set out? Ones you might not be aware of. This is a risk and you know it."

I completely disagreed, but I wasn't about to argue with her in front of the whole team.

Besides, they all looked wary about this plan, too.

Despite the missions I'd handled as an infiltrator in the past—including the Citadel—they clearly didn't want me doing this alone.

I humored them, "Am I overruled?"

Almost everyone gave me a look that spoke for itself.

Kasumi proposed the exact backup plan I had in mind: "Hey, Shep, why don't you bring Miranda along? At the very least. If I heard right, I'm pretty sure you can cloak with her. Can't the two of you handle this as a team? That way, no one's left worrying about where you are."

"I have to agree," added Kaidan, even as Miranda looked uncertain. "Sure, you've soloed the Citadel for God's sakes, but this is totally different. You shouldn't be by yourself unless it's unavoidable!"

EDI pointed out, "Your suggestions are sound, yet it would appear Miranda is unprepared."

Legion was more direct: "Operator Lawson lacks the experience Shepard-Commander possesses as an infiltrator."

Defensive, Miranda fought back, "It can't be that difficult. Shepard, you'll primarily be climbing through the vents, won't you? That's the path you've mapped out. If that's the case, then I can go with you."

"For the most part, yes," I replied. "Every now and then, we'll have to cloak and walk around the building to find the next set of vents to climb through. The main obstacle will be getting to Nassana's penthouse. It's directly across a bridge that's currently under construction. On top of the rain, the wind will make things difficult. Not to mention all the mercs stationed out there. Getting across is going to be a real challenge. I'm serious. If you come with me, Miranda, then I need you to be prepared for that."

"Understood, Commander," said Miranda, steeling her resolve. "I'm going with you. End of discussion."

"I'll allow it."

Kasumi encouraged, "Don't worry, Miranda. You've got this. You're a total Bond girl."

Jack snorted with laughter.

Baffled, Miranda said, "James Bond? You think I'm…a Bond girl?"

"Yep. Biotics as gadgets. Weapons. And you're a superspy bombshell? You have the whole package."

By the look on Miranda's face, she didn't know whether to be offended or not.

"Speaking of that," I mentioned, "Since we're going to do this, we need some added distractions. Kasumi, EDI—I want you both on interference duty. Head to Tower One and create as many problems for the mercs as possible. Keep your cloaks up and stick together. Miranda and I will make our way through Tower Two to the bridge. With your distractions, the mercs near us should head over to your location. I doubt they'll clear up around the penthouse. This should help us get around more quickly."

"Of course, Commander," accepted EDI.

"Sure thing, Shep," said Kasumi. "EDI and I will do our best."

"Good. Miranda, EDI, and Kasumi—come with me to the armory and gear up. When we're done, we're going to meet Vasir at the cargo transfer level. She'll drive us to the Dantius Towers. Everyone else, head to the bridge with Joker. I'll link up my optical camera for you to watch our progress. Let's move out."

---

Right on time, Vasir picked us up in her car. I sat in the passenger's seat; Miranda stayed in the back with EDI and Kasumi. This rain pouring through the skies still hadn't let up, with no plans to stop any time soon. As we drove through Nos Astra's cityscape at night, Vasir continued filling us in:

"That clerk I mentioned, the one with details on Krios? Turns out she used to run security for Nassana. Conscience got the better of her once she found out a thing or two about her boss. Poor thing actually tried confronting Nassana about it, then ended up getting fired. I wouldn't say she has a bone to pick, but her information's good. Everything she's given me so far is legit."

"What else can you tell us?" I asked. "Mainly about the mercs, how they operate."

"They're high-tech killers," said Vasir. "Undisciplined, but very well-equipped. They don't much care who they kill, as long as they're paid for it. But, the second you present them with a real challenge, they'll get too aggressive. Same thing you went through at Deep Azure last night. So if you plan on distracting them in Tower One, make them think you're weak. As long as they feel like they have the upper-hand, they'll let their guard down. Probably get bored and start goofing off. It'll be much easier to sneak past them."

EDI decided, "Kasumi and I will need to make apparent errors in our distraction attempts."

"That'll be easy," agreed Kasumi. "We can make it look like we're amateurs. Draw them into a trap. For as long as we can, anyway. After that, we'll have to get creative."

"I trust you two to handle it," I told them. "Vasir, do you have any other intel on Thane?"

"Not much," replied Vasir. "He allegedly said he's not doing the hit for money. Nobody hired him. The clerk wanted to know who she was helping, and he said he's doing this job on his own. That he had to 'restore the balance of his life.' It's why I'm convinced he's trying to atone for something he's done. Or maybe he's just crazy. I don't know."

Miranda pointed out, "I doubt he's lost his mind. Thane sounds like a spiritual person."

"Hmm, true. I hadn't thought of that."

Just in our view, the Dantius Towers appeared, looming clear over everything else in the near distance.

Vasir went on, "You know the drill, Commander. You and Lawson will head up Tower Two, and cross the bridge to the penthouse. Once I drop you off, I'll take your teammates to Tower One for their operation. I'm glad you're taking the stealth option this time around. The Eclipse mercs will be well-fortified by now. As long as you're able to stay hidden, you should be fine. It's just that bridge you'll need to worry about."

"All right. Let's do this."

"Hold on."

Taking us in, Vasir landed at the well-lit entrance, raindrops pouring down over the bright pavement.

I exited her car, helping Miranda out the backseat. EDI and Kasumi gave us their reassurance.

"Don't linger too long," warned Vasir. "They'll be here to greet you soon enough. Good luck, you two."

"Thank you, Vasir," responded Miranda.

Once I closed the car doors, Vasir took off, getting Kasumi and EDI to their destination across the way.

Not wasting any time, I held Miranda's hand in mine, cloaking us both to invisibility. Off to the side, I spotted the vent we needed to access first. And I was about to activate my optical camera and call the team via radio; get everyone in on our progress. But something told me to wait before doing any of that.

Just overhead, the Dantius Towers lettering lit up our immediate area in a light blue. That light surrounded Miranda's transparent form, glimmering in the rainfall, just as it did to mine. Behind us, around us, the rest of Illium raised up through the night skies, those buildings and windows and skycars in winding lines of traffic, all reminding us of where we were. With our surroundings, I saw Miranda's form, the shape of her face—how she stared up at me, the roundness of her eyes wide in surprise. Or maybe not surprise. Some type of temporary emotion, preceding her preparedness for this mission.

Now more than ever, Miranda needed my guidance. We had to move quickly, but I couldn't rush her.

I gave her the rundown: "We'll mostly be moving through the vents. They'll take us up several floors at a time. Then we'll find our way to at least one elevator. With EDI and Kasumi creating those distractions, we should only run into a few Eclipse mercs here and there. Should be easy enough to slip past them. Once we make it to the highest level, that's when we'll head for the bridge. I'll need to analyze the best way for us to get to the penthouse from there."

Miranda steadied herself. "All right… I'll follow your lead. I take it you don't expect us to fight anyone."

"If everything goes well, then combat should be off the table. We won't need to fire a single shot."

"Here's hoping. How will we escape the penthouse later? Nassana's mercenaries won't just let us go."

I knew she wouldn't like this—"We'll escape out the window."

"You don't mean…?"

"We're going to jump, Miranda. The nearest landing spot is less than two kilometers down. You upgraded my Icarus Landing System to handle heights like these. Now's the perfect time for a test run."

Anyone else would've lost their nerve.

Miranda nearly staggered back, but she centered herself again. Leaning on her trust in me—she accepted what was to come. But she still chose to be honest about her feelings.

"I might be having a few regrets," she admitted. "Truth be told, my best asset as an infiltrator comes from providing information. Not actually being in the field like this. I'm worried I'll only slow you down."

"This is an exercise in trust. I think it's something we both need. You know exactly why."

"You're right. We should get moving, then. I'm ready."

"Okay. I'll start up my optical camera for the team. Just keep your radio on for the audio."

"Of course."

Activating the audio and video feeds, I contacted the others.

"Joker, do you copy? Can everyone see from my eyes on your end?"

"We got you loud and clear, Commander!" confirmed Joker. "The live feed looks good, too. Hey, is that Miranda in front of you? She's actually invisible like you are?!"

"Yes, Joker, it's me," said Miranda.

"Dude, that's like magic or something. Still can't believe it."

"I know, right?" agreed Jack. "Useful as hell, too. Know how much damage I could do if I was invisible?"

"Uhh…think I'd rather not know."

Kasumi informed us, "EDI and I are almost in position, by the way. We're heading to our first target."

"Yes, we're making progress," said EDI. "We are also keeping a visual on you and Miranda via omni-tool. Knowing your exact location will help us to plan accordingly."

"Keep us updated," I ordered. "Everyone else, I want radio silence as much as possible. We need to concentrate on what's in front of us. So keep the chatter to a minimum. Am I clear?"

The rest of the team responded with some variant of, "Understood, Commander."

Just as I was about to lead Miranda to that vent, something caught my eye across the way:

A few salarian workers fled from one direction, all together. Right behind them, LOKI and FENRIS mechs followed after them. They shot the terrified workers in the back, murky green of their blood spattering everywhere as they collapsed. The dog mechs finished off the job, pinning down the ones still fleeing. I barely heard their screams over the sounds of the rain. And I already knew none of them would make it.

Miranda stopped herself from going over there.

"Did Nassana send her mechs after the workers? Just because she could?!"

"There's nothing we can do for them now… Come on. Let's get moving."

Wordless, she followed after me, keeping her hand in mine.

We crawled our way through this first vent, with Miranda staying behind me. I knew to pace myself so she could keep up. This limited space—and the need to stay quiet, to keep from making too much noise—had already started taxing her. Miranda did the best she could, keeping up with my already-limited pace for her sake. But if there was any not-so-experienced person I'd want with me, it would always be her. She knew how to adapt; even as I began moving faster up a sloped ramp, Miranda pushed herself even more. As capable as she was, I trusted her to learn on the job, better than anyone else could have. I stayed hyper-aware of her energy levels nonetheless. I couldn't push her too hard yet.

The main issue Miranda created was noise.

A lot of noise.

She tried to stay quiet. But in between her muttered cursing over the cramped space, or the occasional pain from the constant crawling, she wasn't as silent as she could've been. I was glad Kasumi and EDI had those distractions going, as they'd already updated us about. If not for them, the Eclipse mercs would have heard us a long time ago. We would've been detected by now, causing too many problems.

Just to give her a break, I diverted us to the main floor space of our current landing. This stark lighting and dark shadows—plenty of space around, and a long set of picture windows close by, overlooking the city. We could use this mezzanine to stretch our legs. Still cloaked, we climbed out from the vent. Ever-so-slight, I heard those extra reminders from Miranda's heels: the other impediments to her career as an infiltrator. As much as I loved her style, it wasn't her best asset right now. Not by a long-shot.

And I heard quite a few mercs across the way, chatting while on-duty.

There was a cargo elevator on the other side. We needed to go up several floors. Taking the vents at this pace wouldn't be enough. We would only end up losing Thane at this rate. We had to take the risk.

I picked Miranda up, carrying her in my arms. "Stay quiet. Cover your breathing if you have to."

"All right," she whispered, covering her nose and mouth.

One step at a time, I walked out to the open area. Dozens of mercs were stationed there, the yellow and white of their uniforms making them stand out in this lighting. They socialized with their guns drawn, cracking jokes with each other. Not a single one of them noticed me walking around them, carrying Miranda as I went. I trusted in my tactical cloak, relieved for these extra upgrades. No migraines, no pain from staying invisible for too long, I could keep going like this for as long as I had to. As was necessary.

Completely unnecessary, the mercs kept on joking around, their voices sounding as an echo in here.

"Hey—I think he went in there," said one of the human troopers, speaking of Thane.

"Well, go get him," kidded one of the asari vanguards.

"You go."

"You're lucky I don't have to take you seriously. Nassana's not paying us to stand around."

"She's not paying us to do anything. Thank God. You hear about the mess going on in Tower One? Some kids must be playing pranks over there. You couldn't pay me enough to deal with that crap!"

"You're telling me. I'd rather chase after these stupid shadows instead."

Still walking around the groups, sticking to the perimeter: I followed the windows to a larger area. The elevator was in sight. Making up for the mercs' laziness, several mechs were on patrol, pacing around.

I steered clear of the mechs and their scans.

Eyes set on the elevator, I stayed mindful of the mercenaries ambling along behind us. Meanwhile, Miranda measured her breathing. She pressed her face closer to my chest, muffling herself against the material of my stealth suit. I held her a little tighter, reassuring her without words as best as I could. More than that, I felt the tenseness among the team as they watched us. I knew how badly they wanted to say something; to ask how I was able to do this. Thinking and acting as a ghost came naturally to me.

As this ghost, I kept blending into our surroundings.

Even while this group of mercs kept on, obviously making their way to the cargo elevator.

Miranda knew where this was going—she braced herself, gripping me around my shoulders.

Still joking around with each other, one of the mercs pressed the button to hail the elevator. Going up, thankfully. But I felt the team tensing again, on the other end of the line. Their quieted expressions of shock and awe: they weren't entirely sure I could pull this off. Yet I had to. There was no other way.

Entering the cargo elevator with the mercs, I knew to stay away from them. The view of Illium from these heights stayed right at my back, outside the glass just behind me. The rain sweated along those windows as much as I could have, should have. I remembered my training. I remembered my resolve.

As the mercs laughed and cajoled each other, I slipped into a far corner with Miranda. She stiffened her body to keep from shaking. Those enclosed echoes of voices, laughter, mocking—they bounced all around us, creating even more movement in this tight space. Tighter than all, Miranda held onto me as tightly as she could, tighter and tighter as the moments passed. The elevator took us to the upper levels, right to where we needed to go. I focused on the reality. Miranda focused on her breathing—breathing right against my N7 logo over my chest, warming me through this material, heating my skin underneath.

As the perfect distraction, Nassana contacted them via radio, demanding an update.

The mercs all rolled their eyes, already of the mind to start bullshitting her.

"Where the hell is the assassin?!" shouted Nassana.

"He's all over the place," claimed another trooper.

"What do you mean?"

Another one clearly lied, ribbing his neighbor in jest—"We've got reports of him on multiple levels. We think he's traveling through the ducts…"

"Don't lie to me! Get your asses back to level one! I've lost teams down there. Find them or you're next!"

"Right away, Nassana…"

While the mercenaries groaned and commiserated, I sharpened my focus. The cargo elevator continued heading up. I darted my eyes around, observing; measuring every inch of distance between Miranda and me and them. No one went to elevator panel. No one pressed the button to change their destination.

One of the mercs went over to the panel. She hovered her hand over the button for level one. "Come on, guys. We'd better get down there. I don't wanna hear her mouth about it later."

"Man, screw her! No matter what we do, she's gonna bitch about it anyway."

"Yeah, but the less time she spends moaning and complaining, the more we get paid. Remember?"

"I guess so…"

The elevator arrived at the top level.

The door opened.

The mercs played will they or won't they, moving to the door, then retreating back inside.

They kept this up, and their jokes, for what felt like hours.

I took the next risk and moved—slinking around them, slowly. Suffocating any wind from my movements with Miranda. Reinforcing her stiffness, her tenseness, solid as a statue of stone in my hold. I moved with her as one the whole way. Well until I made it out the elevator, and the mercs finally decided to stop fucking around. Out of an abundance of caution, I waited along the side wall. Leaning there. Staying there for now. Waiting, staying, and listening as they convinced themselves to follow orders, pressing the button at last.

The elevator closed, shutting away their lingering conversations with it.

Those echoes carried back down, gone for good.

I heard some other merc's voice, but not near enough to turn into a problem.

Miranda muttered against my shoulder, "Set me down, please… I need to stand."

I did as she said, moving as carefully as I could. She leaned against this wall, taking a few minutes. Uncloaking as well, I let Miranda return to reality in a way. She needed to stand; she needed to see herself. I couldn't blame her at all. But that lone merc's voice nearby gave me cause for concern. I signaled for Miranda to stay here, while I went to investigate.

Standing by a window, facing the glass, the merc communicated with someone else over his radio. He was so focused on his conversation; he didn't spot my reflection through the glass, transposed over the outside towers lighting up the night.

I approached him from behind, listening.

"I haven't heard from Teams Four of Five," he said, pacing around in casual movements. "Don't worry, my team is always ready to go… I don't know where he is, not yet. We might need reinforcements up here pretty soon. I'll take care of it… It's under control. I'll go down there myself."

Miranda couldn't help herself. She walked over here, the sounds of her heels giving us both away.

Picking up on those clicking sounds, the merc froze in place.

I had no choice. If he called for those reinforcements, they would only get in our way.

I told him, "Turn around, very slowly."

Alert now, Miranda aimed her sidearm at him.

Facing me over his shoulder, the trooper cursed—"Damnit!"

"Tell me where the assassin is, and I might let you live."

Facing us now, he backed away. I stepped closer to him. Closer to the window. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be wasting my time talking to you. You're not one of Nassana's mercs. Who are you?" Then he got a better look at Miranda next to me. "Oh, you're definitely not one of Nassana's people. She has a strict dress code. Actual armor, for one. There's no way she'd let anyone whore around in that outfit."

I stepped even closer to him—menacing, threatening: "Tell me where the assassin is."

"I've got nothing more to say to you—"

I shoved him straight through the window. Glass shattering, he fell all the way down to those depths. Screaming for his life through the rain; limbs flailing in that loss of control.

Sneering down in his wake, I taunted, "How 'bout 'goodbye.'"

Miranda scoffed over the inconvenience. "They're just too predictable at this point."

"I know. Come on. We're almost to the bridge."

"With you, Shepard."

Spotting several enemy signatures on my radar, we had to return to our stealth. I held Miranda's hand again, cloaking with her; leading her through the next door. Nassana's mercs stayed clustered in the center of the huge, open area—congregating together, socializing together, just like the last group. Normally, we would've crawled through the vents again. But with the rainstorm still ongoing, those overhead sounds masked Miranda's footsteps. I found it easier for us to circle the perimeter instead.

Walking around all the cargo everywhere, I took special care to avoid the mechs again. They were the only ones actually working. Still avoiding them, Miranda and I eventually rounded a corner, reaching a ramp leading upward. As we went, we passed by a console, with Nassana's voice shouting at the top of her lungs. The mercs just ignored her.

"Where is everyone?"

"Will somebody please give me a report!"

"Answer me, damnit."

"Somebody get down there and find out what's going on!"

I was tempted to mock her through the console, but that would've blown our cover.

I continued on with Miranda up the ramp—up to the highest level at last.

Construction ongoing, several walls and roofs remained unfinished. Several cargo boxes and support beams everywhere, this place opened up to the storm, bright lights shining through the cascading rain. As with before, that rain masked our sounds. Again I guided Miranda near the walls, away from the mercs up here. Not quite fucking around like the other teams downstairs, these groups took more to standing still with their weapons out. Grumbling over the rain pouring down over their shields and barriers, they stared out at the city's view, wishing they were anywhere else but here.

I guided Miranda along a wide walkway lined with construction vehicles, with a view of the city along our left side. We skirted around the mercs, who kept having to shout at each other over the rain. Even for a simple update that there were no updates, Miranda and I kept hearing, "What?!" or "I can't fucking hear you! Speak up!" every few seconds. They eventually started clustering together, giving us another advantage. We moved faster, with Miranda's heels a complete non-issue at this point.

Finally, we arrived to the bridge leading to Nassana's penthouse. The penthouse itself, I observed just across the way, raising up past these half-completed structures and beams. At this altitude, and in this storm, the winds were most severe along the bridge. The small army of mercs populating the bridge itself—they had to hang onto the cargo nearby just to stay in place.

Miranda spoke right into my ear, "Shepard, we should be able to get across. The wind will be a problem. You'll need to hold on to me."

"Hold on to you?"

"The wind is strong enough to blow you away. If you were alone, it would have."

Taking a closer look, I saw that she was right.

I couldn't have accounted for something like this when I'd made my plans earlier.

Guiding my arms as needed, Miranda moved to my left side, opposite the wind's direction. She made sure I held onto her body. She then latched her grip around my back, my shoulders, supporting me. We then set off across the bridge. And as soon as those gusts hit us, I tensed my whole body, feeling what could have happened. This sudden slip that could have been, this feeling of being thrust away, how I almost could have: only by the grace of Miranda's foresight did she save me from that possibility. She grounded me. She gripped me, steeling me still with her. Cementing.

And then she made us keep moving.

One step at a time, Miranda led us across. We moved around the mercs glued to their rigid placements. They all kept holding on to the cargo, refusing to move an inch. Their heavy armor kept them rooted enough, but they weren't up for taking any chances. Whenever they seemed to consider moving, all they had to do was look down and around, and they changed their minds. All around us, the night skies held the long drops of those consequences. Skycar traffic wound through the city at a blistering rate, raised well above those same drops. And the windows of Nos Astra's towers and skyscrapers stared at us through the night, watching; waiting for someone to slip up and fall way down.

Every time I should've gone flying off this bridge, I felt myself pushing against Miranda's fortitude instead. She only breathed harder against me each time, holding me tighter, and then kept us going. As ever, I felt the team's attention on us through my optical camera. Their bated breath. Their anticipation. Even their sense of novelty, knowing that I'd never specifically relied on anyone like this before. Not to this extent. Not to this extreme, with my life hanging in the balance, barring an emergency landing with my augmentations. All between these gusts blustering in one direction, and Miranda acting as an impassable wall on my other side.

Kasumi and EDI simply let us know that they had to retreat from their position. On their way back to the ship, I figured this was best. But even if I wanted to order them otherwise, I couldn't make myself speak.

Miranda knew exactly how I felt.

She spoke low enough to keep the radio from picking up her voice:

"I've got you, Shepard."

For this short moment, I stopped tensing. I actually let her hold me. My pride didn't matter anymore.

By the time we made it across, we had some free space to catch our breath. Here in a corner by these stairs, our target was just through the next door. My radar picked up on a couple of hostile signatures ahead, with several more inside the penthouse. But there was someone else up above, inside, crawling through the vents. Friendly. It had to be Thane. Perfect timing.

Miranda and I went up the short flight of stairs. Slipping past these last few mercs, we entered the door.

Within the dry, safe space of Nassana's penthouse, I analyzed our surroundings. The moon's eye of the cloudy, stormy evening shined through the windows around the perimeter. Normal living space filled with Eclipse mercs everywhere: Nassana stood right at the fore of the area, behind a long console, paranoid and pacing around. Surrounded by guards as she was, their shields glowing in the moonlight, Nassana couldn't stop her habits. Looking over her shoulder. Staring out to the skyline, expecting her killer soon.

Knowing where this was going, I uncloaked.

Miranda appeared as normal with me.

Walking side by side, we approached Nassana and her guards. She turned to face us, just as her mercs drew their weapons our way. After a brief moment, she quickly recognized us both.

"Shepard. Lawson," said Nassana, with such disdain. "I should've known it was you."

Miranda mocked her, "How wonderful to see you again, Nassana. Your little temper tantrum at the restaurant the other night didn't escape my notice. You know exactly why you're in this position, don't you?"

"Of course I do! And now you're here to kill me."

"Maybe I just missed you."

Nassana blew her off—"Screw you, Lawson."

"Charming as ever," teased Miranda.

"I'm sure you and Shepard find this all very ironic. I asked her to find my sister years ago. To take care of her. And now you're here for me… Well, you've made it this far. Now what?"

I couldn't believe her. "You really think we're here to kill you?"

"Do you have another reason for destroying my tower? Sneaking your way up here without a peep?"

"We're just looking for someone."

Not hearing Thane's obvious racket overhead, Nassana glared at me. "You expect me to believe that?" He made a little more noise. Probably as a signal for Miranda and me. "Is it credits? Is that what you want? Just tell me your price! We can make this problem go away."

"Nassana, you already tried this before. You couldn't buy me then, and you still can't buy me now."

More sounds from the vents up above. Nassana's mercs pointed their weapons in every which direction.

"What?" sniped Nassana.

"I heard something," said one of the commandos.

"Damnit. Check the other entrances!"

Just as the commando ran off, the other mercs grew distracted, confused. They lost their focus.

Slipping down from the ceiling as a quieted, quickened shadow, Thane landed on the floor.

Not knowing any better, Nassana stared us down. "You… Stay put." Focused, exacting—Thane cupped his hand around a merc's mouth, twisting their neck in near-silence. Punching another merc at a precise point, he took them out, then pulled out a gun. "When I'm finished dealing with this nuisance, you and I are going to…"

Thane shot a third mercenary dead. Full of momentum, he turned his velocity around to Nassana herself, moving her gun arm out of the way. He set the barrel of his own gun at her abdomen.

"Who…?"

Thane fired his weapon.

Blood spattering, Nassana bent over, with the cradle of her neck along Thane's shoulder. Careful, and full of compassion, he set her body down over the console. As Nassana drew her last breaths, Thane folded her arms over her front. Leaving her there in such a peaceful position, shadowed by Thane's form before the rainy moonlight. He lowered his head in prayer—hands clasped in front of him, eyes closed.

Spirituality.

He carried himself with such a cold confidence, blending with that piety.

As a sign of my own mysticism, I had the worst feeling about this person standing across from me.

Thane remained as he was, focused on prayer. The dull shine of his black and gray, fitted, suit-like outfit gave him a look of distinction. Professionalism. The green tones of his skin—or scales—and the shape of his hairless head, the webs of his hands keeping his fingers together: completely alien, but still familiar enough for me to place. This man had clearly seen a lot in his life. Experienced a lot. Learned a lot of harsh lessons; and maybe, just maybe, he hadn't fully learned to live with each one of his demons.

This quiet sense of foreboding I felt: like a long, long calm before the storm. Even with the rain outside.

Glad that the threat was over, I told him, "I figured you'd show up when you did." Thane kept on praying. "Hey! I just snuck through this whole place looking for you. The least you can do is look at me."

"I apologize," sounded Thane's calm, gravelly voice. "But prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken."

Miranda remarked, "She certainly was wicked."

Thane held in such a weight of guilt and shame. "Not her. For me."

His wide eyes stared through me, black as an abyss. That single look filled me with such depths of mistrust. Meanwhile, I felt the measure of Miranda's attention: she sympathized with him instead.

"The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone. Take you, for instance. The way you snuck through an entire tower without alerting a single guard." He walked away from Nassana, from the console—Thane gave me such a peaceable look, as if to lecture me. I bit back the full menace of my scowl. "After what you achieved on the Citadel, I should not be surprised. That you managed to repeat your efforts with a non-infiltrator at your side… It is a testament to your skills. Even I had difficulty tracking you tonight. I was curious to see how far you'd go to find me. Well…here I am."

Still holding myself back, I asked him, "How did you know I was coming at all?"

"I didn't. Not until your colleagues began making a ruckus over in Tower One. They provided a fine distraction, allowing you and your partner to slip by undetected. Nassana had become paranoid. You saw the strength of her guards. She believed one of her sisters would kill her. She did not expect me."

"Let's cut to the chase," I said. "I need you for a mission."

"Indeed?"

"You're familiar with the Collectors?"

"By reputation," replied Thane, pensive.

"They're abducting entire human colonies. Freedom's Progress and Horizon were their handiwork."

"…I see."

Noticing Thane's lowered energy, I went on, "We're going after them."

"Attacking the Collectors would require passing through the Omega 4 Relay. No ship has ever returned from doing so."

"My ship will be the first."

Thane stared out at the cityscape, questioning me—"You'd like me to protect humans I've never met, from aliens no one knows anything about, by going to a place no one's ever returned from?"

"Yeah. That's the gist of it."

"Some time ago…a job like this would've been my last." Eclipsed by the cloudy moon, Thane told us what we already knew: "I was dying. Once. I moved past my illness, yet those dark days have left their mark on my spirit. Low survival odds don't concern me. The abduction of your colonists does. Besides, the universe is a dark place. I'm trying to make it brighter before I die. Eventually. Someday. Many innocent workers also died here today. I wasn't fast enough, and they suffered. I must atone for that—and much more. I will work for you, Shepard. No charge."

Sounded to me like Thane's quest for atonement would always take precedent.

If he wanted to chase his guilt away by going after the Collectors, that was his decision.

Yet I resolved to keep his true priorities in mind. When push came to shove, we'd see how he behaved.

"Let's wrap this up on the Normandy," I ordered. "Do you have a way out of here?"

"Yes, you needn't worry. I will await you and your partner back at your ship."

Just like that, Thane slipped off into another vent.

Miranda gave a pleasant hum. "He's quite the character." I moved up ahead to the windows, planning our escape. "Shepard, are we really going to do this? I know you need to test your landing system's upgrades… I wish you could do it in a more controlled environment instead."

I held her hand, knowing that the team still watched us. "This is as controlled as it gets, babe."

"You're right. I suppose it's my turn to trust you again. I'm ready when you are."

From the top of this tower almost the size of a Reaper, I kicked the nearest window, breaking it open.

Errant shards of glass flew away as shattered specs in the rain. I stared down at the drop, finding the vague sight of our intended landing spot down below. On the other end of the radio, I heard some of the team groaning and panicking—quietly—over the sharp drop. I'd obviously never jumped from a place this high before. This was practically skydiving in the middle of a metropolis. But now was the time.

As I picked Miranda up again, carrying her in my arms, I heard the team's growing rumblings.

I could clearly picture Joker covering his eyes with his cap. "Aw, crap, here we go…"

Even Mordin seemed uncertain. "Length of fall appears…problematic."

Nervous, Garrus interjected, "Hey, Shepard, are you sure about this…?"

Cloaking with Miranda again—just in case—I walked closer to the gap in the window.

Kasumi barely controlled her own nerves. "Well, this is…something else."

"No kidding," muttered Kaidan.

EDI speculated with facts: "The commander's Icarus Landing System allows her to safely survive falls from up to two kilometers. That is the approximate height of a capital-class Reaper ship. The Dantius Towers are within this estimated range. It is all but guaranteed that she and Miranda will be fine."

Samara pointed out, "This may be true, yet the rest of the team remains unassured. I must also admit to some apprehension on my end. You and Legion are the only ones holding on to these logical details."

"Yeah, no shit!" exclaimed Jack. "If it were anyone else, they'd die from a fall like that!"

I leaned my weight and momentum with Miranda out the window, taking this leap of faith with her.

In seconds, I heard Zaeed's grunting panic—"Son of a bitch!"—and Tali's barely-muffled scream of fright.

They just had to see this for themselves.

Falling through the city's night, life and time and space went on as normal. Traffic went on; the rain went on; civilians went on their way along the walkways in my view. No one noticed me. Unseen, I sped down through the air with Miranda safely in my arms. She forced herself to keep breathing, to stay calm, finding remarkable success. Just as our shields kept the rain away, she found her own Zen with me.

I sensed her feelings, as sure as our continued falling:

Even if we died, Miranda could accept it. This was the only way she wanted to go out. With me.

If it happened now, tonight—she'd found her peace with the possibility.

I had to wonder if Thane's premature influence had something to do with this.

I wondered, but there was no need. These winds brushed past us with such speed. Alarming alacrity in any other situation—even as much as my omni-tool's alerts went off, warning me of the dangers. Past that panicking, mechanical and from our teammates in our ears, Miranda stayed warm with me. Warm even in this chilly, rainy night, as my emotional support. Emotional support with me as her life support: I cherished the feel of her on me, the backs of her closed eyes along my neck. Her steadied breathing over my collar. Her arms draped in tightness around my shoulders, mostly relaxed with me like this.

Miranda gave me the focus I needed to finish this right.

Our landing spot within reach, my systems activated automatically.

Decelerating, that familiar golden glow surrounded Miranda and me both, joined as one for this. The electromagnetic field helped to slow us to an exact velocity, as if landing from a simple jump. Fall damage negated, I landed with knees bent as my hydraulics, completely unscathed.

As I set Miranda back down, letting her stand as normal, I deactivated our tactical cloak.

Knowing the others watched her through my eyes, too shocked to speak, Miranda smiled at me anyway.

Gently playful, she stroked my face. "My hero."

I felt my neck heating in this chill. She noticed, smiling even more.

"Come on, let's get back to the ship," she suggested. Hands interlaced, we made our way to the nearest rapid transit station.

---

Returning to the Normandy with Miranda and Thane, I spotted the change everywhere.

We entered the debriefing room among this change. The team had spread out to their usual spots ahead of time. They'd clearly shared their tales and gossip with each other: their smiles met me, specifically, as I entered the room. While they spotted Miranda's uncharacteristic lightness, they chose instead to focus on me. And I could barely look at them. I masked everything well enough behind my usual attitude. But their attention on me felt stuffy, stifling. Like I was in the middle of a scorching room.

I knew Miranda was amused by the changes. That little smile on her gorgeous face said as much.

But I hated giving people something to talk about. I preferred…staying invisible to that kind of thing.

Taking my place at the head of the table, I did my best to push all of that aside. It wasn't important.

Thane remained dutiful at my side, next to Miranda. He kept his hands behind his back, shoulders straight. Privately scoping out the energy in the room. I saw that slight glimmer of joy in his dark eyes.

"Thane needs no introduction. We've seen him at work; we've seen what he does. I'm sure he'll be another valuable asset. No one should worry about having an assassin watch their back. He and I are the same in what we do. The only real difference between us is that I can cloak, and he can't."

I looked at Thane, and found his gratitude.

But I hardly believed my own words. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt—especially since Miranda seemed impressed by him.

My instincts kept telling me something else, even as I held my hand out to him.

He could never know.

"Welcome to the team, Thane."

"Thank you, Shepard," he said, shaking my hand in a firm, precise grip. "I believe an assassin is a weapon. A weapon doesn't choose to kill. The one who wields it does. To that end, my arm is yours."

Miranda agreed with him. "A wise assessment."

"I would hope so. Where shall I put my things? I'd prefer someplace dry, if anything is available. Though I have conquered Kepral's Syndrome with medical aid, my prognosis shall only hold if I am careful to avoid humid locations. Prolonged exposures could prove to be my undoing."

EDI informed him: "The area near the life support plant on the crew deck tends to be slightly more arid than the rest of the ship."

"Ah. An AI in a mech's body? My thanks."

I continued on, "Now that our business on Illium is finished, it's time for us to move on soon. I'm waiting for an email from Councilor Anderson about our next mission against the Collectors. I should hear from him within the next few days. That'll give Samara and Thane some time to get settled in first. After our meeting with the Council on the Citadel, they're going to keep us on-call until the next mission begins. It's happened before and I fully expect it to happen again."

Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan knew exactly what I meant.

"For our next diversion, after meeting with the Council, we'll head to my hometown on Earth. Our 'final' recruit, Lieutenant James Vega from the Alliance, is waiting for us there. We'll remain on standby in the city until we have to head out. It'll essentially be another round of shore leave. Since we're facing the Collectors again pretty soon, I think we'll need the extra break. But our immediate focus is the Citadel."

Legion noticed, "Your emphasis on the word final is noteworthy. Does Shepard-Commander expect to discover more recruits?"

"Who knows. Maybe saying final is just a fantasy. There could be more surprises down the line."

Everyone exchanged glances, wondering if that was true or not.

In reality, I wanted them to be prepared for anything that came up. Like always.

Sensing Miranda's hopes and intentions for tonight, I wrapped up the debriefing:

"We'll leave tomorrow morning. If there's any last minute plans you have for Illium, now's your chance to get them done. Just make sure to be back here by nine sharp. You're all free until then. Dismissed."

The rest of the team, except Miranda, made their way out the comm room. Thane bowed to me, likely on his way to check the life support room first. Jack looked particularly glad for the extra night out on Illium. Everyone else had their own plans for the evening as well. They wanted to make the most of it.

Once we were alone, Miranda came up to me.

Pleasant, loving—she gazed at me so deeply, knowing I couldn't return her intensity at a time like this.

She seemed to like my shyness. For some reason.

"I'm going to shower in my room," she let me know, running her hand down my arm. "Meet me on the bridge a little later on. Let's head back to my apartment for the night. One last time. At least for now."

Making my way back to my own room, I took a shower, too. Cleaning off the day, the mission. Thinking everything over. And I had never felt closer to Miranda, really. The way she'd saved me—the way we'd saved each other—would always stay with me, near and dear to my heart. But I found myself worrying, much like she had earlier. About these positives possibly getting balanced out by some kind of negatives.

She and I both had a difficult time accepting a good thing in front of us.

Or maybe she didn't anymore. Not after today. Not after speaking with Oriana, and the rest.

Of course, in the very back of my mind, I feared that the past would repeat itself.

Every time I felt Miranda's essence seeping deeper into my heart, I felt myself growing fearful. But that was all the more reason to keep her by my side. I'd already made my promises to her. There was no turning back now.

In the spirit of loving courage, I looked forward to seeing her again. Spending this night with her, too. Sex was still off the table, as it needed to be, and so I checked my expectations accordingly. I dressed myself in a pair of jeans and my black N7 hoodie. And then I went down to the bridge, finding Miranda there waiting for me already. We left the ship together one more time, going back out to Illium's night.

Taking the rapid transit to her apartment again, I held Miranda close to me once more. Her mood hadn't changed at all. In fact, it had only improved. She leaned her head against my shoulder, speaking in a soft joy:

"I've already emailed the Illusive Man about the mission. Our legal representatives will deal with the public damage to the Dantius Towers. Not that it matters much—Nassana can't hold us liable while she's dead. But someone else is bound to take her place for the company. Funnily enough, the stocks in her corporation have gone up with the news of her death. I can't help but find the irony oddly satisfying."

Just that single, off-hand mention of the Illusive Man was enough to dim my optimism.

Back in the dark calm of Miranda's apartment, I took in these surroundings one more time. Looking around, noticing the longevity around: the cleanliness of Miranda's home marked her measured temperament. How she would clean and clean, keeping everything at a regal means, if it meant reaming her personal problems away from the scene. This scene, of the heavy, framed photographs of me: I helped Miranda put them back over the walls in their respective spaces, these places having seemed so barren without them there.

This chore was my way of saying goodbye to Miranda's home—for now.

Upon my insistence, Miranda sat on her couch as I worked. She spoke to me idly from her seat—"Thank you for giving us time to do this. We may not have the chance to return here for a long while. Not until the suicide mission is over, and we're finished dealing with the Collectors. Unless something unexpected brings us back before then." Idle as she was, we were still on the same wavelength. "You know, I'm also grateful we're waiting a little longer to have sex. I needed to have a day like this with you. Before anything more happened. I didn't know it until now. I'm glad we can go through adversity and come back together, stronger than the day before. You are my rock."

"I feel the same way," I expressed.

Miranda hummed in uncertainty. "You don't think I'm clingy, do you?"

"Not at all. Even if you were, I wouldn't mind. I want you to be real with me. Always."

As I placed the fifth and final photo in its place, I noticed a new detail that had eluded me before.

There at the bottom of the frame, engraved were the words: 'And Love You Shall Find.'

The picture itself was of me, dressed as an androgynous model…staring off at the distance. Searching.

Searching for Miranda in hindsight. Without realizing it.

Having held onto this dream, Miranda ambled over to my side. She wrapped both of her arms around mine nearest to her. Settling her head along my shoulder, Miranda radiated such hopefulness, as a bright spot in this stormy night. Resting here in place, she let me feel everything about her. Unfiltered.

"Shepard…you are my life support. Truly, you are."

Giving her feelings life, and giving her life to me—Miranda's sentimentality burned this moment in my memory. I stared at those words. I stared at the engravings of her hopes, her dreams. And I upheld their fruition, holding her close to me. Without a doubt, I knew she would never leave me. If only I could rid myself of these other burnings in my eyes, then I could be perfect for her. Nevertheless, she dedicated herself to patience. Patiently waiting for my heart to fully be hers, forever. Patiently hoping to keep us as her life's work, her wholehearted endeavor.

Somewhere, past the expanse, Shiala's earlier words reached me through this silence.

Someone waiting for me.

Someone…and I would find out soon enough.