"Crystalline Chill" from Final Fantasy XV

XLIX. Life Support

(Miranda)

Relaxing, winding down.

Putting the controlled-madness of Eden Prime behind me. Behind us all.

This next day after the mission felt appropriately lax, lenient. I certainly enjoyed the relaxation compared to the chaos of the battlefield. Especially after such an unexpected, if not easy victory against the Collectors this time. Working in my office, I typed away at my desk, finishing up the operation report from yesterday's mission. Everyone else had more or less returned to their duties as well, at least for the time being. I'd heard word that the team planned on spending some time together later on in the day. And they somehow expected me to join them. For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. Not out of a sense of obligation. Just from the sheer importance of our bonds together, as teammates. If not friends.

But before that planned gathering, Shepard and I would speak to the Prothean we'd just met. As the Normandy's marine officer, Kaidan currently had our detachment keeping watch over our newest teammate. Standard protocol for first contact with a brand new species. They would dissolve on the captain's command, once Shepard brought me along to speak with this Prothean friend of ours.

I only wanted to finish this report before she came to pick me up. Then we would set off together.

For now, I marveled over these details of my report. Despite her diminished combat role, having provided mostly support yesterday, Shepard's capabilities appeared as sharp as ever. Perfect accuracy. Excellent ballistics on her Widow sniper rifle. She seemed at-one with her weapon, as always. Moreover, I found myself extremely impressed with our guest. Aria's finesse on the battlefield had been nothing short of remarkable. I did take note of Shepard's personal observations, of Aria having tired herself out at a couple of points. Yet this hadn't been enough to deter her. It was clear Aria's attempts at vying for Shepard's affections had accelerated her capabilities. Those gigantic Flare explosions of hers had gone off with a force unheard of. So I wanted to see more from Aria as the mission progressed. Much more.

Right on time, the door to my office opened. And in walked Shepard, looking as fine as ever. More so due to these unexpected changes about her. Not in her usual Alliance fatigues—she instead wore her formal Alliance officer's uniform. Eyes locked to mine, she came over to my side. Watching me stare up at her. Taking in this soft surprise about me: from her stature, her sweetness mixed with seriousness.

Leaning down to me, Shepard's long hair shifted with her movements. Her confident movements.

"Hey, babe."

Instinctive, I tilted my head toward her, upward. Granting Shepard better access to kiss this side of my face, reddened and heated enough from her affections. Again, this sweet and serious blend of hers, I felt sugared over my skin from her taste. She had my curiosity piqued. Infinitely so.

"Shepard, darling," I replied, smiling just as much. "There you are. Thank you for coming to find me."

"Mm-hmm. You done with your report?"

"I am, yes. You're free to look it over whenever you'd like."

Shepard offered her hand, helping me stand up from my desk. With this momentum of mine, I stayed close to her. Touching her face, studying her. These changes about her. This focused fire in her eyes.

I wondered, "So what inspired your change of wardrobe? You haven't worn this in a long time."

"I'm not really sure," admitted Shepard. "Just thought I'd try it on. I forgot how much I liked it before."

"Well, I think it suits you. You're even more dashing with this on. Perhaps you could make it a habit."

"I will—if that's what you want."

"Yes, that is what I want," I emphasized, still studying her. "You also seem improved today. Fortified. Fully-repaired from your troubles before. Are you feeling all right now?"

Shepard leaned into me, leaning her full lips into mine.

These alluring depths of her convinced me of my observations. Completely.

When she pulled away, I felt her deep, calming voice all the way inside of me: "I'm all right, babe. Thank you for everything. You know I'm not used to leaning on anyone. Not for anything. I trust you, though."

She had my heart soaring—flying higher as she kept my hand in hers. Having us leave together.

Just this short walk to the elevator proved momentous. The other crew saw us walking side by side. They took in the esteem of Shepard's formal Alliance uniform, bucking our Cerberus surroundings more than ever. They spotted my own esteem, as proud as I was to belong to our ship's captain in this way.

Once we arrived to the engineering deck, Shepard and I made our way to the port cargo room.

Kaidan's security teams had decided this was the best location to keep our Prothean friend under watch.

And I supposed Shepard could have spoken with the Prothean sooner. Perhaps yesterday, directly after Eden Prime. I wondered if she'd taken this time on purpose. Delaying their talk; making an example out of the Prothean like this. Keeping him in custody as both a punishment for his offhanded insults toward us, as primitives. As well as a warning for him to not step out of line with us again. Especially with me.

These more romantic displays of Shepard's ruthlessness forever left me enchanted by her.

But before we arrived to the port cargo room, someone else surprised us.

Leaving the engine room area, through this door to the hallway with us—Tali appeared there.

My first instinct was to say hello to her. Or even to offer for Tali to join us with the Prothean.

Instead, Tali took one look at Shepard and squeaked out in fright.

She then quickly fled the scene, hurrying back through the door and out of sight.

Bewildered, Shepard stared after her. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," I answered. "Maybe we should follow her. She can't have gone far."

We continued through the doors and into the ship's engine room. On this side, Shepard and I found Legion and Engineer Daniels at a panel together, discussing their current project. They both greeted us, seeming oblivious as to our chief engineer's personal troubles. I stayed with Gabby and Legion, while Shepard went over to Tali on the other side, over at her work panel. Far enough away, with the loud, pulsing, soothing sounds from the drive core nearby, they could have their own conversation together.

Keeping up appearances, Tali pretended to work at her station.

Shepard knew better, not letting any such issues get in their way.

With our other engineers too distracted, they couldn't overhear these beginnings:

"Tali, what's the matter?" asked Shepard, genuinely worried. "You ran off the second you saw me. Are you okay? Did I scare you?" At the very least, Tali stopped pretending to work. She took a deep, frightened, shuddering breath. "Hey, you know you can talk to me. Whatever this is about, I'll listen."

Tali shook her head. Muttering words I could not hear.

The only reason I knew she spoke at all: the light over her mouth, her helmet lit up with her speech.

So Shepard leaned down, lowering her own voice. Speaking more. Subtler this time.

Turning toward her, Tali appeared to whisper closer to Shepard's ear. And as she did, I could not read Shepard's reaction. Not for the long, drawn-out moments Tali spoke her truths, completely obscured to me. Though perhaps I couldn't discern anything on purpose. Shepard seemed to restrain herself then. Restraining her real reactions. How she wanted to behave. What she truly wished to say in the moment.

And not because she knew I watched them.

Shepard had forever trained herself to do this. To protect other people; to protect herself.

So I tried my best to read her lips instead.

I could only distinguish one deep murmur of Shepard's voice—"Is that really how you see me, Tali?"

Meek and vulnerable, Tali nodded her head in response. She'd nearly started trembling from nerves.

Shepard held her shoulder, stabilizing.

As they continued speaking, I glanced around the room. This engine room. This symbol of the Normandy's productivity. Something about this room gave me an idea for later on. Much, much later on.

Contradicting the stability she gave, Shepard whispered one last thing.

One last thing that appeared to rock Tali's world.

One final thing that made Tali gasp in shock—sending her fleeing again, back out to the hallway.

As coincidence, Jack had just traveled upstairs from the subdeck, nearly getting run over in the process.

"Hey, Tali!" barked Jack. "Woman, will you get back here?! What the hell!"

When Tali only barreled past, Jack followed, still shouting after her. They disappeared into the elevator.

Admittedly intrigued, I went over to Shepard, asking, "And what was that all about?"

"Nothing you don't already know," she confirmed.

"Then you'd better keep your hands to yourself," I pretended to scold. "You shouldn't corrupt her."

Shepard gave me a charming grin, still rather twisted.

"I think it's too late for that, babe."

"Mmm, you're probably right. Now come on, let's get going. I'm sure Tali will be fine in due time."

Absolved from Tali's melodramatics, Shepard and I pressed on to the port cargo area.

Inside this shadowed-white room, we found Kaidan with his marine detachment, armed and loaded. The guards all had their rifles aimed in the Prothean's general direction. The Prothean himself remained knelt upon the floor. Meditating in absolute silence. Waiting to be released from this near-captivity.

"Commander," said Kaidan, saluting her. "Glad you're here. We're still following protocol for first contact with a new species. 'Assume hostility.' Had to dust off the regulations. But he seems fine, really."

The Prothean sent a shadowed glare in Shepard's direction.

He appeared perfectly aware of her intentions—this purposeful waiting game, the point of it all.

Regardless, Shepard stepped closer to him. "At ease. I don't think our guest will be a problem." The guards relaxed their stances; the Prothean stood up properly. "Will he?"

"That depends on you," came the Prothean's brooding reply.

Of a sudden, he moved forward. Grabbing onto Shepard's arms. Reading her, just as he'd done to me.

The guards hastened to aim their rifles at him anew.

Yet he did no more than this. Only reading. Sensing Shepard like this. Learning her—or attempting to.

Perplexed, the Prothean stepped away.

"How remarkable, Commander," he praised, bitterly so. "I read from your partner her fears. Her many apprehensions about the Reapers. What you must do, what you must accomplish. She frets over her role in protecting you. In replicating the fabled, failed methods of my own people." Shepard turned to glance at me, finding the truth trembling in my eyes. "And I assumed her fears had transferred to you. That you both shared them; and that this cycle was doomed, just as mine was, long ago. Hence my quickness to name you—and her—as primitives, all. Yet I see now that I have misjudged you. Severely."

"I'll take that as your apology, then," accepted Shepard. "How exactly did you misjudge me?"

"By the mere fact that I cannot judge you. I cannot sense, cannot read anything of your person."

"What do you mean, 'sense'?"

"All life provides clues for those who can read them. It is in your cells, your DNA. Experience is a biological marker. On your human colony, where you discovered my pod—I did not fully read you as you witnessed the fall of my peoples' empire. Not you, personally. I gained only sufficient knowledge of your species, which your partner then strengthened for me. Nonetheless, I found it odd I could not sense you in your entirety. I worried that perhaps something was amiss. But this was not so. You are…unique."

Shepard remembered, "You communicate through physiology. What's so unique about me in this case?"

"There is a block, Commander," explained the Prothean. "My last battle left its mark on me. I communicated this to you. It is supposed to work both ways. With you, this does not work as intended. Though it is possible this is by design. I cannot read or discern your marks, just as much as any Reaper cannot penetrate your mind to indoctrinate you. By the time I was born, there were no such people left to take down the Reapers through their backdoors. You are what we could have, should have been."

"Then that's a good thing."

"You appear pleased by this."

"Of course," replied Shepard. "It's only natural. It's just how I am. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Hmm." The Prothean grunted in worry. "Yet you are the only one, Commander. The only organic in this cycle capable of resisting the Reapers. You have prepared for the invasion. You heeded our warnings. And your will is most powerful. The fate of the entire galaxy falls to you—and your lone protector."

"We've accepted that. Or at least I have. But it sounds like you don't have much faith in this."

"That is because I was a soldier. Skilled in one art: killing. This other method was nothing but a fairy tale during my lifetime. You could say we leaned into our roles instead. Among my people, there were…avatars of many traits: bravery, strength, cunning. A single exemplar for each."

Shepard asked, "Which are you?"

"The embodiment of vengeance. I am the anger of a dead people, demanding blood be spilled for the blood we lost. Only when the last Reaper has been destroyed will my purpose be fulfilled. I have no other reason to exist. Those who share my purpose become allies. Those who do not become casualties. And it would seem you are the same. I have taken great notice of your character, your decisions."

"Our reasons may be different, but our goals are the same. This ship will help take down the Reapers. Before that, we're dealing with the Collectors. We have to put your peoples' husks out of their misery."

"Then I will help you fight," declared the Prothean. "I must avenge my people as the Collectors they have become. And the last thing the Reapers will hear before they die—will be the last voice of the Protheans sending them to their grave. You may count on me, Commander. I am known as Javik."

Shepard offered her hand. "Then welcome to the team, Javik."

Solemn, Javik merely shook her hand, saying nothing in response.

"I want our chief medical officer to take a look at you. Just to make sure you're doing all right. Dr. Chakwas will want to ask you a few questions about your health. She's never worked with a Prothean before, so give her some patience. I'll stay with you in the med bay."

Javik understood. "Of course, Commander. It could not hurt to be examined by a medical professional."

EDI's voice sounded over the intercom: "Miranda, James would like to speak with you in the armory."

"Oh, all right," I said, wondering as to James' timing. "Thank you, EDI. I'll head up to see him now."

Shepard gave me a look.

Wordless, we agreed—I would take the elevator with her, with Javik, with Kaidan and the guards. Heading up together, I saw her off at the crew deck, carrying on to the command deck on my own. But even in that look of hers, this single sentiment persisted. Shepard knew of my fears now, confirmed as much by Javik himself. Perhaps she'd suspected as much, given her intuitive nature. Yet she offered me this allowance. This clemency in refusing to judge me. And so we allowed the issue to fall by the wayside. We didn't need to discuss it. Though I knew she expected me to do something about this.

Arriving to the armory, I found that Zaeed was not here. Thank God. Just James by himself, standing at the computer, working there. Or perhaps finishing up his work, given everyone's plans to spend time together quite soon. Like Kaidan, James chose to wear his Alliance fatigues while aboard the Normandy. I understood that neither of them wished to wear our Cerberus colors instead, given their allegiances. Shepard had of course set her own examples, choosing to don her formal uniform these days. I fully respected their decision. Even if I felt some guilt about it. Because once this mission was over, I expected Shepard and the others to cut all ties with Cerberus, with the Illusive Man. I would also need to choose.

Rather distracted, James barely heard the sounds of my heels on my approach. He'd appeared rather withdrawn lately, after having read the full report. About everything that had happened. Understandably so, as his previous idea of who Ashley once was—another soldier he'd looked up to—had been shattered. I had never been certain if James' obvious feelings for Ashley were genuine. But seeing him now, the slowness with which he typed and sighed, seemed to answer my questions for me.

"James," I stated, turning his attention this way. "You wanted to see me."

"Yeah—hey, Miranda," said James. "You weren't in your office when I checked. EDI let me know she'd pass the message along. Think you and the commander were talking to the Prothean. Looks like Shepard already updated the crew manifest. Dude's name is Javik, huh? Pretty cool if you ask me."

"Javik is certainly—a character."

"You mean he's an asshole."

"You said it, not me," I insisted. "Shepard's made it quite clear she won't tolerate that sort of thing. Not toward her, or toward me. He seems to have a grudging respect for her already. I suppose it's a start."

James brought up an old grudge: "Well, speaking of that… I wanted to give you a real apology. You know, from two, two and a half years ago. Sorry for that shit I pulled with you and Lieutenant Williams. It wasn't right. I didn't mean no disrespect. Guess I was just—feeling myself too much. That ego from being around my boys, thinking I could shoot my shot. I saw her in front of me and I kinda lost my mind."

"Apology accepted, James," I told him, feeling the last of this grudge slip away. "Thank you. Though I'm surprised by this confession of yours. You lost your mind when you saw Ashley in front of you, really?"

"I mean, she's—she was…that person for me. The one who got me through Fehl Prime, the worst place I've ever been stationed at. The Collectors damn near took everything from me on that colony. Sure, I'd think of the commander. Looking up to her example that way when things got rough. But Lieutenant Williams was relatable to me. We were the same age and all. And I—felt some type of way about her."

"There's no need to sugarcoat this. Not with me. You still love Ashley very much. Don't you?"

James contorted his face in pain, remorse. "Honestly, I don't know, Miranda… I've tried not to talk about it with the team. The thing is, the truth's tearing me up inside. Knowing what she did. Remembering the two of you finding me at the 94, right after. Seriously, the lieutenant fucking talked to me like nothing even happened! Like she didn't just murder someone not even an hour before you got to the club…"

Sympathetic, I observed, "You do seem quite angry with her. Or with yourself for not noticing."

"Think it's both," he muttered in contempt. "Even then, I can't forget the way she made me feel. The way I still feel about her, despite everything. I don't know how I'm gonna set this aside—if ever. Makes me feel like an outcast with the team, you know? They all hate Lieutenant Williams' guts—and for good reason. But here I am, still holding on to her memory like this. Just makes me feel alone. Like shit."

Given how poorly things had gone between us before, I felt surprised by James' confessions to me.

Yet he truly did seem alone here. As if he had no one to confide in.

His habits and expectations of being the jokester, the life of the party shadowed over his sincerity.

Perhaps he trusted me because I had been there that night, even with my own lying, my own secrecy.

Still, I couldn't allow James to wallow in his misery alone like this. I did my best to help him instead:

"Why don't you tell me more about Fehl Prime," I suggested. "What happened there that made you hold onto Ashley like this? I know you needed to make a choice. You had to make a decision in the end, to sacrifice the colonists captured by the Collectors, all for the important data you obtained."

"Yeah…there's a little more to it than that," noted James, solemn. "Me and my team made it onto one of the Collectors' ships. Trying to get the colonists back. The Collector data was with one of our other people. An asari scientist. She's a Prothean expert—really looks up to Liara a lot. But I couldn't save her and the colonists. She had the data…and I kinda liked her, too. I saved her, sacrificing the colonists instead. The Alliance had no idea what to even do with the data. So my choice didn't amount to anything in the end. I only saved one person, letting all the colonists get harvested by the Collectors."

"Hmm, I see… That's unfortunate. This other asari scientist—are you still in touch with her?"

"Nah, that's the thing. We fell out of touch after everything. The whole aftermath from the mission was just too much to handle. Never stopped thinking about Lieutenant Williams, though. Kept wondering how she was doing, after losing Shepard the way she did. There were tons of times when I wanted to get in contact with her. You know, trying to be that man in her life. Not minding whatever baggage she probably had… Then I found her at the Super Bowl with the commander. Then the rest happened."

I understood. "Yes, I suppose I was that man in Ashley's life instead."

James offered a wry grin. "Guess you were, Miranda."

"Is this why you have these rules of yours? No fraternizing. As you explained to Jack the other day."

"I mean…yeah. It's always been her. Always been because of her. Chief Williams. Lieutenant Williams."

"Well, if it's any consolation, you're not alone with this. Shepard won't admit it, but she does miss Ashley as well. I believe she's still letting go of some of her anger. It'll take some time. Once that time passes, Shepard will remember Ashley more positively. And she will always love her. No matter what."

"I had a feeling. Knowing for sure—it does help a lot. Thanks for telling me. I'll keep this to myself."

"As will I. This talk was surprising, but I'm glad you chose to confide in me. Thank you, James."

"Definitely," he said, smiling more. "Not gonna lie, I was gonna talk to Shepard. Figured she had enough going on. Plus I can tell she'd rather keep her distance. I respect that. Wish I could at least give her a nickname. Thought about calling her Skipper. You know, since she's the ship's commander and all…"

I gave him a look of horror.

James winced in guilt. "Yeah, I know… I caught myself on that. Guess I won't call her Skipper after all."

"For your own sake, I hope you won't."

"Nah, it's all good, Miranda. I know where the line is. I'm not crossing it. Promise. Am I gonna see you later on with the whole gang? Minus Thane and Samara, I guess. Shepard, too, since she's not into the whole team socializing thing. Not surprised they're all sitting this one out."

"Yes, I'll be there," I reassured him. "Whenever Joker brings the Normandy to the next fuel station, I'll meet you all on the bridge. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to spend some time with everyone. For once."

"Good to hear. I'll let you get back to it. Didn't wanna take up too much of your time. See you soon."

"Of course. I'll see you then."

Leaving James to finish up with his duties, I returned to the elevator.

And I was about to return to my office, to my room. To at least continue winding down until the team's scheduled gathering. But my talk with James inspired me to check in with our other newest team members. Samara and Thane. Especially since they wouldn't be joining us later on. Aside from their respectful replies to my welcoming emails, I'd yet to have a one-on-one with either of them. So I figured I'd make up for that while I still could. They both enjoyed their space, but I didn't want them to feel ignored.

At the crew deck, I passed down this hallway to the starboard observation room. Along the way, I glanced at the closed door of the med bay. I knew Shepard was still inside the room, there with Javik and Dr. Chakwas. I could only wonder how Javik's medical examination went, what with Dr. Chakwas needing this crash course on Prothean biology. Though I was certain she was quite up to the challenge.

Arriving to Samara's space, I found our justicar sitting upon the floor. Meditating before this expansive view of the stars beyond the window. Her body aglow in the blue and white of her biotics, Samara maintained her focus, even as she sensed me. Yet with her senses, those colors dulled and disappeared. She looked at my reflection along the window in front of her, boring the pale blue of her eyes there.

"Miranda," spoke Samara, turning to glance at me. "How good of you to visit. Though I must admit some surprise. You do not strike me as a particularly social woman. Or is there something you need of me?"

"I hoped to check in with you, Samara," I responded. "To see how you're doing. Are you all right?"

"I am quite well, thank you. Please feel free to sit with me. I am interested in speaking with you."

Taking my seat just nearby—not on the floor—I felt rather disarmed by Samara's frankness.

Something told me this would be a recurring theme in my interactions with her.

Crossing my legs on instinct, I had to ask, "You wanted to speak with me, really?"

"Yes, I did," she replied. "In between my investigation, I have had much time to reflect on the team. On the mission thus far. And I have formed my own opinions. I am curious to see if these might change."

"Then might I ask what your opinion is of me?"

"You are undoubtedly a hard woman, Miranda. I respect your strength and determination. You carry many burdens, and you do not share them with others. Save for the commander. As it should be."

"Well, I appreciate that. Thank you, Samara. And thank you for allowing this chat between us."

Samara smiled in a bit of levity. "I have spent much of the last four hundred years on my own. It is nice to have a colleague to chat with. I may be rusty at it, however. If you are patient, I would love to talk."

I pointed out the obvious: "I can assume you've read the reports I sent over."

"Yes, I have."

"You seem unperturbed by them."

"We cannot change the past," she reasoned. "There is little gain in fretting over what has already been. That is not to say those events have not been on my mind. I have certainly spent many hours pondering your actions. The commander's actions. Everyone's. I find them all quite telling of your characters."

"Then I take it you're more focused on the present. And the future."

"As much as I am able, yes. I have sworn an oath to follow Commander Shepard, and she seeks to destroy the Collectors. I now know that the Collectors were once Protheans. And that is enough for me."

"Is that true?" I asked. "You're not the least bit curious about learning more?"

Samara enlightened me: "When you live by a code that compels you to harsh action, you learn the dangers of curiosity. For example, you are my executive officer. In my oath, I included my tenets to protect you, as the one the commander holds most dear. But what if I made no such vows? If I must ever kill you because you have done wrong, do I really wish to know you long to be a devoted mother? More specifically, that you hope to one day be Shepard's wife forevermore. The mother of her children."

That information wasn't in any of my reports… "You—how do you know that about me?"

Stoic and mysterious, Samara gave no response.

Still, she wouldn't have divulged these painfully intimate details if she didn't want me to know.

Even as her clairvoyance left me unsettled…I chose to respect her silence. Her calculations with this.

So I changed the subject—"Then what do you think of Cerberus? Working for a human organization."

"I have heard rumors," noted Samara. "But I've learned long ago to form my own impressions. There is too much room for interpretation in the opinions of others."

"In that case, why were you willing to work for us when you didn't have first-hand knowledge?"

"I work for the commander. I work for you. Our methods may be different, but our goals are not. Shepard also assisted me a great deal on Nos Astra. My investigation continues apace thanks to the information she obtained. It will be quite some time before I decide to strike. But I am confident this time will be the end. I will succeed. Even though I must be patient, the wait will undoubtedly pay off."

I recalled, "You didn't mention much about the criminal you were chasing on Illium."

Samara lowered her head. "There is a reason for that, Miranda. I hope you will understand if I wish to avoid this topic. It is deeply tied to my code and beliefs." She gave me a look, filled with the same energy as those divulgements. "You might say it is personal. But it will not impact the mission in any way."

"I do understand, certainly. We don't need to go over it. I was only curious, that's all. This seems to be the dominating theme of your life. Your endeavors as a justicar. Everything else is second to this."

"Given all I have learned, I would say my oath to Commander Shepard is my primary focus. Although my investigation is imperative—as I must prevent this fugitive from harming others—I have felt…a change. A tangible shift in my priorities as of late. During my meditations, I seek to refocus and rebalance my energies. This is why I declined the team's offer to socialize. I fear I will not make for good company."

"I'm sure they won't hold it against you," I reassured. "But when you put it that way, you sound almost—troubled. Worried about these changes you're going through. Would you say that's true?"

"You have the right of it, yes," confirmed Samara. "I became a justicar solely to take down this fugitive. I gave up nearly all of my possessions, material or otherwise; set aside my worldly concerns; learned to view myself as a mere vessel for enacting justice. And yet my oath to the commander has brought me a rare form of enlightenment. My eyes are open to the universe at all times. This, too, is quite unsettling."

This felt close to the reasons for her clairvoyance. Yet I knew this explanation wasn't the full story.

"Have you made these oaths with others? Surely they made you feel the same way."

"The one I share with Shepard is unique, because she is unique. Unusually so. However, once more, I hope you will forgive my silence on the matter. I am concerned about the possible ramifications. What could happen to me, were I to divulge all to you. Or to anyone for that matter. I have spoken enough."

Samara's existential crisis certainly sounded intriguing. Though I knew better than to pry any further.

Standing up, I told her, "I should leave you to your meditations, then. If you ever decide to share more with me, I'll gladly listen. Of course, I won't fault you for your silence. I trust that you know best."

"Thank you, Miranda. Despite the hurdles, I have enjoyed this talk. Perhaps we will speak another time."

"Absolutely, Samara. Take care."

"You as well."

Perfect posture, biotics aglow once more—Samara returned to her meditating. As if I wasn't even here.

She seemed so far away in this moment, contemplating her eye of the universe. Wherever that was.

I left her room, heading back down the hallway. My head stayed heavy with so many wonderings.

Arriving this time to the life support room, I lingered outside the door for the longest. Thane was just inside. And I certainly did wish to speak with him. I still remember how much he'd impressed me back on Illium, dealing with Nassana Dantius and her guards the way he had. But there was this…strange feeling I had. An odd sensation that accosted me, standing right by this unlocked door to the life support area. To Thane's lodgings. I wasn't sure what this was. If it was genuinely my intuition or something else.

I had the sense that Shepard didn't approve of Thane. Though I couldn't really imagine why. He seemed quite harmless to me—aside from his storied history as an assassin, of course. He obviously posed no threat to us. Not personally. And he was our teammate. So I saw no real harm in speaking with him.

This life support area certainly felt more arid than the rest of the ship. And this view of the drive core through the window, right above the engine room as we were—those same calming sounds pulsed through here, muffled somewhat. Distanced. But still soothing. Still quieting the atmosphere, allowing Thane this peace. Sitting at a table, facing the view of the drive core, Thane appeared to bask in the Zen all around. Contemplative, thoughtful. I envied his sense of calm and focus, as level-headed as he was.

Yet as I neared him, I noticed the real source of his concentration.

In Thane's hands was an actual print book. Yellowed pages, text over paper in the English language.

Worried that I'd interrupted his reading, I was about to leave him be.

He surprised me by speaking aloud, "Miranda. Do you need something?"

I stared down at my boots. Of course he'd heard my approach.

When I couldn't respond, Thane turned to smile at me.

"How ironic that your partner is an infiltrator," he remarked. "I would venture no small guess your personalized footsteps have caused her much distress. There is a specific character to your heels, the style of them. The way they sound when you walk. It is as if you step with your self-restraint before your confidence. Any other skilled assassin could easily memorize such a sound. Were they blind, they would always know it belongs to you. Perhaps the commander is aware of this. Has she complained to you?"

"No, actually," I replied, rather stunned by his attention to detail. "Though there have been a few times when Shepard's had to carry me. Specifically because of my footsteps. It could be that she's wanted to complain about it. In that case, I think she's chosen to be diplomatic instead. She notices everything."

"Ah, of course. Shepard would not want to offend you. Neither would I. Please don't feel the need to leave so soon. I would be happy for us to speak with one another. I was not expecting your company."

Thane gestured to the seat in front of him, at the table.

I sat before him, then, closer to the sounds of this soothing.

From this angle, at least, I could see the cover of the book in his hands, the title—

"The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli?"

"Yes, indeed," said Thane. "This text has hooked me. The allegorical character described by the author…well, they sound quite familiar. Especially now that I am caught up on events, both current and past, with the rest of the team. It has been a fascinating experience. Fascinating, yet—worrisome."

"Worrisome in what way?"

"Commander Shepard has been the topic of galactic interest for a good many years now. Being part of her team is certainly a privilege. I worry that I will never get to see past that veneer of hers. The stoic, ruthless prince who would send anyone to death for the sake of her comrades. Her many justifications will remain unknown. She is close, but incredibly far away. I don't quite know what to make of her."

"These things take time," I counseled. "Shepard won't move until she's ready. Once she does, I believe she'll surprise you. I wouldn't put much stock into the way things are now. You'll have to be patient."

Thane only sighed in more worry. "I am used to patience, Miranda."

"Are you certain about that?"

"As certain as I can be," he insisted. "Fortitude, faith, forgiveness. My people thrive on these virtues."

"I wonder about your people, the drell. They live on the hanar homeworld on Kahje, don't they?"

"Yes. I know many think the hanar difficult to understand. It's just that they're very formal with those they don't know. We know them quite well. If you ever get close enough to a hanar that they tell you their Soul Name, you would find them warm."

"I thought that hanar only let very close friends know their Soul Name."

Thane explained, "As an assassin, most of my commissions were for hanar. I grew close to my regular contacts. Soul Names tend to be poetic. A hanar known for its cynicism might take a name that means 'Illuminates the Folly of the Dancers.'"

"Well, considering the hanar speak using bioluminescence, I would imagine that would be quite the obstacle—for anyone else outside of Kahje, that is."

"True. Many drell have had their eyes genetically modified to perceive their higher frequency flashes. I had the treatment. I can't tell the difference between a dark red and black, but I can see ultraviolet light as a silver color. The experience can be transcendent at times. In a way, it is tied to my own faith."

I remembered his prayers on Illium—"When you pray for the wicked, who exactly are you praying to?"

"That depends on the circumstance," answered Thane. "To find my target, I speak with Amonkira, Lord of Hunters. When I act to defend another—Arashu, Goddess of Motherhood and Protection. And when I have taken my target, I speak with Kalahira, Goddess of Oceans and the Afterlife."

"Hmm, this isn't the first time I've heard of the ocean linked to the afterlife."

"For good reason. Consider. The ocean is full of life. Yet it is not life as you and I know it. To survive there, we must release our hold on land. Accept a new way to live. So it is with death. The soul must accept its departure from the body. If it can't, it will be lost. All of our gods follow a similar logic."

"I'm not religious myself," I prefaced, "But I do find this thought-provoking on its own. Especially learning that the drell have this many gods. You're polytheistic, then?"

"This is one of our older beliefs. Many embrace the hanar Enkindlers now, or the asari philosophies. The old ways are dying. There are so many ways to interpret one's place in the universe. Who needs the wisdom of our ancestors? The younger generations don't believe they can help us fathom genetic engineering, orbital strikes, or alien races. I find our reality unfortunate. Yet this is the way of things."

Thane's profound sense of wisdom and knowledge reached at something in me.

I had never taken organized religion seriously, at all. Before meeting Shepard, before applying the connection we now had, I hardly believed in any deities for that matter. God had done nothing for me that I hadn't already done for myself. What did I need Him for? And yet these concepts, these novel perceptions had inundated me, slowly, over these past few years. Faith as a concept did seem comforting to me now. Belief as this application of my deepest vulnerabilities…I began to understand.

Bottomless as the black of Thane's eyes, watching me, lit up in size, I found his patience.

He appeared to sense what I now understood.

"You are not a woman of faith," he observed. "Though you are an intellectual all the same. I hope I have inspired you to think things through. To perhaps see this from a different perspective. You have chosen to make Commander Shepard the center of the universe. Certainly, her larger-than-life sense of self is accommodating to this, to your choice. The way you view her. She is your religion—and so much more."

Much more so, the book in Thane's hands only reinforced my choice.

"You're right," I agreed, standing now. "Thank you for this conversation, Thane. You really have given me plenty to think about. We should do this again sometime. For now, I'll leave you to your reading."

"Of course, Miranda. I would appreciate another talk, another time. I thank you for your visit."

Leaving the life support area, I certainly felt—lighter. As if I'd shed some unknown weight over my shoulders. One I hadn't known about at all. Not until I realized it was gone. That weight, I understood, was certainly this matter of faith. Faith and belief. Beliefs I hadn't actually known how to embrace. Not until these moments I spent heading to the crew's quarters. Walking to my next destination here within.

I supposed I had been so focused on tangible results. Evidence I could see. Reassurance I could analyze and scrutinize with my own eyes, with my own knowledge and understanding. Taking this leap of faith and accepting my fears about the future—with the war, with Shepard and her well-being, with my relationship with her. Such a thing had seemed impossible to me. Hence my obsessions, my fears over making any single mistake. I still felt those fears, yet they stayed with me much differently than before.

Opening this next door in my life, I passed through the door to this room.

This room in the officers' area of the crew's quarters.

This final, honorary room I'd set aside, right next to Tali's clean room.

Honorary no more, it now proved as a prescient measure of my practicality:

Liara's room.

Quiet. Such a calming quiet all around.

Only the usual sounds of the Normandy's equipment running, and the computer gently humming on.

All along this right side of the room, I'd set up these monitors for her to work. I turned them on now, illuminating the space in a delicate gathering of blue light. Along the opposite wall, the windows opened up to the stars, the surfaces reflecting the blue and more. At the very far wall was the bedroom space—the full-sized bed, the nightstands, the lamp, the couches nearby. The adjacent bathroom. The large, framed painting of Ilos on the wall. And this ethereal sense, everywhere, that Liara was already here.

Feeling nostalgic, I wandered over to the bed.

This white comforter comforted me as I sat down. I ran my hand over this comfort, remembering the salvage. Salvaging this from the original Normandy's wreckage, in what had been left of Liara's old room behind the med bay. I had restored the blanket myself, using omni-gel to fix all the rips and tears. I had done this even after witnessing Shepard's memories. Knowing what she and Liara had done while insulated beneath this comfort, just once, for many, many hours with the team spying on them. To that end, I had prepared this room for Shepard herself. In case she had found herself unable to let go of Liara after all. In case Shepard wished to mourn her forevermore. In case the two of us had no chance together whatsoever; in the event she wanted to stay in love with her memory of the deceased.

Certainly, I would have respected her decision.

I would have told her all the same things I'd said just days ago. Back on the Citadel.

I would have encouraged Shepard to feel however she needed to feel. Whether she had a choice or not.

Going to check on the bathroom, ensuring the cleanliness here, I remembered my reaction that day. I recalled the unusual sense of elation I'd felt, knowing that Shepard trusted me with her honesty. To truly communicate with me. To actually tell me of her struggles, her lingering feelings for another woman. I had never viewed Liara as another person, as someone else. Until recently, I didn't know why.

Staring at myself through the spick and span of this mirror, I absolutely knew why. I fully understood.

Like doubling up. Like reinforcement. Like reassurance of what already was: Shepard's confessions to me on the Citadel had felt as the ultimate validation. Strengthening my own image. Feeding into my own ego, my own personal security with myself. Because I would have rather Shepard had such feelings for someone like Liara—someone like me—instead of someone else. An actual someone else. Like Aria.

The devil you know.

Pulling me out of my thoughts, Joker's fun announcement sounded over the intercom:

"Hey folks, we'll be at the next fuel station in fifteen minutes! If you're hanging out with the main crowd, get to the bridge ASAP. We're gonna hit the convenience store for snacks, then get back to the ship for some R&R. Be there or be square!"

I took these last few moments to myself.

I wasn't sure how this socializing would go. In fact, I began to question why I'd agreed to join everyone.

This rare instance of mixing with the team; blurring the lines of our hierarchy with one another. And my strange attempts at trying to fit in with them. Even knowing that I kept my own distance; that I elevated myself as their superior officer on purpose. Not to stroke my ego—as with other situations—but simply to avoid them. To avoid exposing myself, my vulnerabilities. To avoid this painful awkwardness biting at me now. I would never share in their social comforts. Their ease with one another. A desire to be close.

I felt this friendly wish with Liara, and perhaps Thane now. And with Shepard, of course, far more so.

I had promised to pretend with the others for one day.

As much as this pretending only reinforced my shortcomings. Painfully so. I endeavored to entertain.

Appearing as if all was normal, I reached the bridge at an acceptable time. Acceptable, because I was the last one to arrive. Fashionably late. Yet everyone had been courteous enough to wait for me, conversing among themselves: Joker, Legion, Zaeed, Garrus, Mordin, Jack, Tali, Kaidan, Kasumi, EDI, and Javik.

When they noticed me, many of them smiled. Despite this habit of my frosty exterior. They didn't mind.

As a group, we left the Normandy, heading out the airlock to the fuel station. I said not a word to anyone, instead listening to them interact together. Everyone had welcomed Javik warmly, not seeming to mind his grumpy and judgmental attitude. They'd already begun asking him several questions about his people, the Protheans, ideally as Liara would have done if she were here. Joker and Garrus had their quips about Javik possibly dying from the snacks they were to purchase; the others laughed together over Javik's uppity response, having already learned not to take his self-righteousness too seriously.

The only one acting strangely was Tali, still.

She hadn't spoken at all. Laughed at all. Completely silent, she kept to herself.

For a vague moment, I wondered if she had been avoiding me lately. Tali had every reason to do so. But if she had a problem, I wished she felt comfortable enough to speak to me about it. I didn't enjoy this feeling, this awkwardness between us. How Tali refused to even be within arm's reach of me, keeping her distance instead. Of course, I'd never expected us to be friends. This distance would have to suffice.

The convenience store found us in cleanliness and thin crowds.

Shelves and shelves packed with sugary candies and snacks all around—I roamed the aisles on my own, not quite knowing where to go. I hardly paid attention to the snacks everywhere, really. Instead, I felt hyperaware of everything else going on. Somewhere, Tali stared at me, even as she hid herself between the relatively towering heights of Joker, Garrus, and Kaidan around her. Perhaps she didn't know that I sensed her stare from behind her mask. Yet I felt her fixations nonetheless. Even so, I pretended to focus on Javik, watching as he crossed by another aisle nearby. He and Mordin spoke calmly together:

"Preposterous," dismissed Javik. "It is difficult to believe anyone could profit from these—stores. Such conveniences did not exist in my cycle. Any attempts to build upon the land only ended in failure, in destruction. We simply did not have the freedom to indulge in these things. It was unheard of."

Mordin observed, "Marked differences in freedoms between your cycle and ours. Usually have lone kiosks with selections on-screen. Having shelves stocked with live items offers more immersion. Illusion of greater selection, more variety. More time spent in stores, more purchases made, more credits spent. Profits to be made from convenience stores. Particularly with ample time to spend at fuel station."

Not paying attention, I somehow arrived at the refrigerated beverages, guarded behind the glass doors.

Barely listening to Javik and Mordin's discussion, I stared at the drinks. The cold bottles of tea held some appeal to me. I remembered the first time Shepard and I spoke about them through chat, back home at her apartment. I'd told Shepard that I wanted her to fetch me some tea, and she'd naïvely assumed I had a taste for these. Thinking back on it, I supposed her naïveté had been quite cute. Especially for her.

That cuteness of hers inspired me to reach for the door handle.

But something in this glass door's reflection caught my eye.

Something harsh, something severe—I could've sworn I saw the golden brown of Shepard's eyes there. Staring at me. Stalking me from behind, at a distance. Hidden in the non-existent shadows of this open store. Protective. Paranoid. Possessive. Obsessive. Never wanting me to be too far away from her.

Blood pumping, throbbing. So much heat rushed between my legs; and up to my neck, my face.

And I remembered the sex we'd had in her car. Seeing the shapes of these bottles in my periphery, I remembered more. That feeling Shepard had given me, pulsing in my hand the way she had. Rock hard. I gripped the handle of this door even harder. I thought ahead to what more I needed from her. What more I needed Shepard to give to me. I imagined the sex we would have on Palaven soon enough. I knew we would, because Shepard had already talked about us checking into a hotel there. Staying in a hotel instead of staying on the ship. Because the heat on Palaven would require us to wear full armor and helmets outside at all times, to avoid the harsh solar radiation. Staying indoors—in a hotel—would allow us to escape that heat. So we would find our absolute heat with each other instead. As I wanted.

I needed Shepard to give me everything she had.

I needed her to stop holding back.

I needed her to fucking take me with a quickness. I needed her to command my body. I needed her to break me and take me over and over again. To prove to me once and for all that I wasn't crazy for saving myself for her. This look in her eyes, this reflection of her—I had the perfect taste of what awaited.

This power of hers belonged to me. These obsessions of hers remained rooted in my hands as this job.

Shepard was mine.

And I would be damned if I let anyone take her from me. Devils or not; princesses and familiars less so.

"Hey, Miranda…"

Completely interrupting me—and ruining the moment—Kasumi's hooded self appeared by my side.

Conveniently enough, that maddening sex appeal of Shepard's reflection disappeared from the glass.

I gripped this door handle even harder, muttering out, "What is it, Kasumi?"

"Nothing," she tried. "I just noticed you were off in your own little world over here. Wondered what was going on. You seem pretty preoccupied. Or you're socially awkward. Maybe both. I really have no idea."

Beyond perturbed, I held back the many comebacks that came to mind.

So Kasumi tried again, "Is it that odd for you to be our equal? At least for today."

"This isn't a matter of equality," I insisted. "I had something on my mind, that's all. You interrupted me."

"Hmm, if you say so. You just seem a lot different without Shepard around. I remember you were way more relaxed with everyone, back in her hometown. Heck, you even went to happy hour with them. I have to wonder why so much has changed now. It's almost like your whole personality depends on her."

"Stop overanalyzing me, Kasumi. I don't appreciate it."

Kasumi softened her motivations—"I was only making a few observations. It's what I always do."

"And you feel comfortable sharing these observations now?"

"I mean, I don't see why not… It isn't every day we get to speak with the executive officer like this. Sure, Shepard's the captain, but you're the boss. Everyone wonders what goes on in that head of yours. Remember I told you this before? Still hasn't changed. I'm pretty guilty of my own curiosity, too. Sorry!"

Jack and Zaeed were on their way over here.

I needed to get away before all three of them could trap me in a conversation.

Holding back my annoyance as much as possible, I grabbed one of these bottled teas. I brought it with me to the checkout kiosk. I had no idea how I was supposed to proceed with the rest of this socializing. Especially since everyone had agreed to spend time together in Kasumi's room on the Normandy. But for some reason, fate continued to make this more and more difficult for me. More and more awkward.

Off near the store's exit, Tali huddled around Garrus, Joker, and Kaidan once again. They'd already purchased their snacks, drinking juice and beer and whatever else they'd acquired. That lecherous smirk on Joker's face. That shocked curiosity in Kaidan's stare. That cautiously excited air about Garrus as a whole. I wasn't sure what Tali told them over there, but I knew they talked about me somehow. And if not me, then they probably discussed Shepard—for a multitude of reasons, all of which seemed obvious.

Somehow I doubted Tali herself was the topic of discussion. She would never be so bold, so brazen.

I had a feeling they noticed a change. A change about me, personally. As if they figured that Shepard had at last had sex with me. But they could never know that she had given me so much more than that. Her whole heart. Everything. Even so, I felt Joker checking me out; and Garrus and Kaidan's attempts not to.

Perhaps there was some wisdom to Kasumi's timing after all.

Not liking this one bit, I decided to confront them directly.

The moment I approached them, they all changed their tunes considerably. Garrus stiffened his whole body. Tali edged away from my direction. Kaidan coughed, panicking. Joker muttered, "Oh, shit, she's—"

Sharp-tongued, I questioned—"What's going on over here?"

"N-Nothing!" lied Kaidan, terribly so. "Nothing at all, Miranda. W-We were just…err…"

Joker noticed that I'd noticed him. "Y-You look kinda different today! Like, seriously. Wow…"

"Spare me this idiotic nonsense," I snapped. "What the hell are you all gossiping about? Don't bother lying to me again. Because if you don't tell me the truth, my patience will run out. This will be the last time I'll join these social hours with the team. So are you really going to stay quiet and drive me off?"

Kaidan and Joker both froze, drawing only blanks.

Neither Tali nor Garrus could even deign to give me a single platitude.

"Suit yourself."

Such perfect timing: the rest of the team finished with their shopping, leaving the store together.

I allowed myself to get swept into the crowd.

We all returned to the Normandy as one group, just as we'd left earlier. Far too much on my mind, I barely realized Kasumi had hovered somewhere near me again. Shadowed as her eyes were, she seemed to keep a close watch on me. Possibly because she knew I was irritated; possibly because she knew exactly why. And so I defrosted a bit, accepting her care and concern—however subtle—as we reached her room within the port observation deck.

As this location was originally supposed to be a lounge for the crew, I wasn't surprised they'd gravitated here. The bar on one side, the couches and chairs and coffee table along the same half of the room; and Kasumi's bunk and belongings on the other. Someone turned on the music, and the colorful lights all around, practically turning the gathering in a mini-rave party. And as the energy in the room ramped up, voices and laughter loudening, Kasumi was kind enough to give me my own space. She allowed me to sit on the couch near her bunk bed, just perpendicular to the window open to the starry view. I thanked Kasumi for her generosity as well as her subtlety. She gave me a smile and disappeared into the party.

Staring out to the starry sea, sipping on my sugary tea, I found that this wasn't so bad in and of itself.

Everyone else knew to stay on the other side of the room. They gave me this peace, in theory. But I still felt their stares nonetheless. The loudness of this electronic music could only conceal so much, really.

Vaguely, I listened as the others instructed Javik on how to use the chat room. He seemed resistant to the concept of typing letters to form words on the screen. Yet the team showed him more than enough patience, getting him up to speed in no time.

Still vague, I listened to James and Zaeed joke around together. "Hey, the old man ain't too bad in the armory," James would say. And Zaeed would grunt back, "Get off my fucking lawn, Vega," causing nearly everyone to laugh, teasing him more about his age. Defending himself, Zaeed would tease James back about his youth, insisting the lieutenant was nothing but a fuckboy. To which Jack heartily agreed, making crass sexual jokes about James liking her—"You wanna pin me down, make me call you Daddy?" And for some reason, Tali leaned over in her seat, as if she wanted to disappear entirely from the room.

No one else seemed to notice. Yet I certainly did.

Irrespective of Tali's strangeness, I felt such a familiar loneliness, being around other people in this way.

On occasion, I sensed their eyes on me. Watching me sip my tea in peace. Acting as if I didn't notice.

Everyone—Javik included—seemed in awe of me, putting me up on this pedestal. And not in a pleasing way, like Shepard did, making sure to kiss my boots all the while. Their attention from a distance gave me no satisfaction. They merely made me relive my worst memories of being around other people like this. To this day, I was still used to strangers and associates and colleagues assuming I was better than them. Assuming that I was stuck-up. Assuming that I thought myself above them; too good to bother sharing this type of company. Unreachable. Unapproachable. Unlikable. Relatability didn't exist with me.

Or so they thought.

These constant experiences had made me close myself off from others. Putting up these walls, ice cold. Refusing to entertain anyone's attention, dismissing them as insincere or disingenuous. Until Shepard, of course. But everyone else, even our team members whom we were supposed to be close with—they continued to remind me of these stupid standards society subjected me to. People would keep their distance, keep their distance; insist I was unlovable, unlikable; label me as difficult, emotionless, cold. So I grew into those labels—on the outside, to protect myself from this feeling. This feeling of not fitting in, even as I sat in the same room with everyone else as they partied on together. Completely separated.

A cynical part of me thought the worst of them. Because I remembered the old crew, the ones Shepard had summarily dismissed in the early days. How they'd made careers out of calling me a cold-hearted bitch behind my back. I could only wonder if my teammates felt the same way, deep down. Much farther down, well past the well of their respect for me, as I was their superior officer. Their boss.

I should have declined their offer to join them.

I should have upheld the hierarchy instead; kept our distance.

Irritating me all the more, I chose to tune back into their conversation at the worst time.

Having had a drink or two by now, James had such a smooth grin on his face. "I'm just saying—she's something else! You all saw the way she handled those fucking Collectors. Think Aria blew 'em up five at a time, ten at a time! That was some goddamned payback if I ever saw it. Like, damn! She's amazing."

More relaxed as well, Javik admitted, "I must concede my agreement with you. This asari is…quite the attractive woman, as she is clearly the type who would destroy any in her path. I am a bit confused."

Beer in-hand, Kaidan laughed. "I think someone already has Aria's attention," he noticed. "You two had better get in line behind the commander. Next time we see her, our powerful guest isn't gonna want to hang around anyone else. Aria works best with Shepard. And for good reason."

Joker scowled in annoyance. "Man, Shepard's hogging all the real estate…"

"Seriously?" chastised Jack. "Aria would never go for you. You're nowhere on her fucking radar! So what the hell are you talking about?!"

"Oh, c'mon, I know that! I just mean in general! Besides, Aria's like what, six, seven hundred years old? She probably thinks I'm some little kid. That's funny, though, since I'm only like a year or two younger than Shepard. What does that make her, anyway?"

I couldn't possibly roll my eyes any harder.

Noticing my dilemma, EDI and Legion came over to me.

"Hello, Miranda," said EDI, smiling as usual. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Legion didn't mince words. "EDI, you have adopted the organic behavior of asking trivial questions for the sake of beginning a conversation. It remains clear Operator Lawson desires to be elsewhere."

I couldn't help smiling at that—and EDI's apparent confusion.

And I was glad we had our privacy. The music was loud enough to enclose our discussion together.

"But Legion," she argued. "I determined it would be rude to open with such an observation. Or perhaps insensitive. The others have grown content to merely gaze at Miranda from a distance." EDI looked to me in apology. "You have been alone. We did not wish to perpetuate this behavior any longer."

"It isn't your fault," I forgave. "You should both know I'm quite used to this. It's nothing new."

"Yes," agreed Legion. "We detected that your avoidant tendencies have resurfaced. Your threshold for social assimilation has significantly decreased as well. Do you often feel alone while surrounded by others?"

"I suppose that's one way to put it."

EDI wondered, "Is it troubling to have our teammates study you in this way?"

I certainly caught Jack, James, Kaidan, and Zaeed staring at me; trying to read my conversation.

"I think they're just curious," I replied. "Even so, all the attention is rather stifling. You don't need to tell them that. They'll understand once I leave soon. I've had enough of whatever it is they're doing."

Legion relayed the obvious: "They often speak privately of your beauty as an organic."

"Well, that's certainly no surprise."

EDI took it further—"A number of our teammates appear to harbor more overt sentiments toward you. Your mysterious qualities have likely amplified their feelings. They also find you very intimidating. Though their discussions never reach the disrespectful classification, Legion and I remain—curious."

I hummed in intrigue. "Are you saying some of them are busy lusting after me over there? Is that it?"

"Yes," stated Legion.

"And did they ask you not to tell me?"

EDI smiled again. "We are sworn to secrecy not to tell you this information."

Brow raised, I pointed out, "Yet here you are."

Legion told me, "The deception was necessary in order to gather the necessary data. Had we not deceived them, the data we received would have been insufficient. We wished to inform you."

"So is this your way of…proving your loyalty?"

"We would like to offer this data—in exchange for Operator Lawson's friendship."

I laughed in delight, even as everyone stared at me more.

"Legion, EDI. You didn't need to deceive them. I could already imagine this is how they spend their time. The fact of the matter is, Shepard is mine and I am hers. Whatever they discuss in private is none of my business. They know they have no chance with me. I'm content to leave it at that. Though I do appreciate your offer of friendship. If I didn't know any better, you've thought about this for a while."

"That is true," recognized EDI. "Our reasons for desiring your friendship are numerous. Your unique perspective as an organic is certainly valuable. But we have grown to value you as a person. Not merely as our superior officer. We feared you would not be amenable to this conversation, had we brought up the issue before. Shepard recommended we should first give you some time. Her advice was sound."

"EDI is correct," confirmed Legion. "Operator Lawson is the perfect organic. We geth seek perfection for ourselves. Our goals are aligned. We also…care for you. You do not need to be alone among the team."

I outright beamed at them.

They couldn't know how much I needed to hear that right now.

Of course Shepard knew me best. Enough to give them the best possible suggestion.

"Thank you for your honesty," I shared. "I appreciate it. Sit with me. We can talk for a while longer."

EDI and Legion joined me on the couch. We spent the rest of this time talking in general. Usually about me—and their curiosity on this topic seemed truly unending. I no longer regretted coming along for this little get-together. Despite the awkwardness before, Legion and EDI made everything worth it. They surprised me in every way today, lifting up my spirits. I did find it enlightening, though, how I got along so well with our synthetic teammates. I knew Shepard was the same. So perhaps it wasn't so strange.

After this while, the party began getting too rowdy for my tastes.

I decided to excuse myself, leaving EDI and Legion to continue gathering more data on the others.

On my way out, I found Kasumi right by the door. She nodded to me. Smiling. Conveying her promise to keep my truths quiet. She knew. I returned her nod, glad to share in this unspoken understanding.

I returned to my room for a bit. Just to shower, to freshen up. To wash away my earlier regrets.

And then I made my way to the elevator. Even from here, I could hear that blasting music from behind Kasumi's door. Everyone had really turned things up after I left. But as I'd said before, whatever they chose to do without me was none of my business. So long as they kept it private, I just couldn't care.

I cared far more about my allowances—that Shepard had given me permission to access her private cabin at any time. Thus I made my way up to her, anxious already. Anxious to see her again. Anxious to know how she'd spent her time today without me. And all my anxiety could have tipped over any minute now. Especially once I arrived to her door, finding it unlocked already. More so once I entered her room, freely, with these permissions of mine. Endlessly so once I found Shepard lying in bed, atop her blankets, her sheets. Sitting up against her pillows. Wearing one of those boyish white tank tops of hers, the slender sinew of her arms on full display. And a pair of black, slimming sweatpants—the under armor beneath slimming her even more. So tall, height for days. Presence for days as she looked up from her omni-tool, from whatever she had been reading. Command on command as she watched me approach.

Because there was just something about her. Something about Shepard's stare. That same possessiveness I could've sworn I saw in her earlier. Illusory or not, that time, this time was certainly real. This time, Shepard absolutely gave me this weight of her dark look. Her expectations. As if needing to know without a word: where I had been and who I was with, even though she knew the answers to that already. It was simply the power of her passions. How she needed to know where I was at every second of every minute of every hour of every single day. Really, her controlling obsessions got me off.

And I found Shepard in bed, giving her this energy of mine—at least with my lips over hers.

"You're too stunning," I murmured in her mouth. "Were you waiting for me?"

"Yes," she breathed back. "I thought about messaging you. Didn't think you'd be gone for that long."

"I wasn't planning on it. EDI and Legion surprised me. We had quite the wonderful conversation."

I went over to Shepard's holo-closet, changing into my nightdress. I knew I couldn't stop smiling. Not necessarily because of earlier. But because Shepard wouldn't stop staring at me. There remained some distance between us now, metaphorically speaking, as she lacked information. She didn't necessarily know how I'd spent my time with the others. She wanted to know. She needed to fill in the blanks, lest the two of us shared any sort of blanks in our understanding of one another. She had to know all of me.

So I crawled into bed with her, filling Shepard in on the story. She held me on this side I lay, practically hanging onto her as I did. Latching on without being ridiculous. My own attachments, my own affections. And how I adored her patience—the way she listened to me without much comment. Only the vocalizations she let out, deep and engaged. Shepard didn't interrupt me to speak, or even wait her turn to say a word. She focused more on holding me. Holding me close. Touching my body even in this non-sexual way. Handling my hips, stroking my spine. Teasing my thighs. Breathing this much closer to my neck; draping her long hair over me; hiding me away from the blacklight of her room. She made me smile more all without a word, letting me whisper my beaming story into her ear. Letting me hold onto her neck, her shoulders, the tone of her biceps. Her perfection far surpassed my own and anyone else's.

I noticed Shepard seemed unperturbed by my story, of the others lusting after me.

Warmed by her closeness, her skin—everything—I asked, "Why aren't you the least bit surprised?"

"You already expect that type of thing," she explained. "They'd be crazy not to want you like this."

"Yes, but I expected you to be at least…"

As pure ecstasy, Shepard gripped at my thigh—pulling this bend of my leg closer to her.

"Territorial," she growled over me. "I am, babe. I always feel this way about you. It's nothing new."

I knew better than to tease her about it. Obviously, she wasn't threatened by them. Or by anyone.

Just knowing she felt like this about me—it was more than enough.

I stroked Shepard's arm, touching this memory of her arm aglow. "Then what were you reading earlier?"

"I started off reading your report from Eden Prime. Everything looks good. No surprises there, either. After that, I spent the rest of my time reading something else. Just some literature Garrus sent over about Cipritine, the city on Palaven. What to expect when we get there. I knew about most of it already."

"Hmm, what did you know beforehand? I'm afraid I don't know much about the turian homeworld."

"Well, Palaven's all about military life. Their troops are everywhere. Honor and service run deeply in their blood. It's in pretty much every aspect of their society. Always sounded like an empire to me. Just without the cliché evil aspects. From what I went over in my reading, that's not too far from the truth."

"I do like the sound of that. Is there anything new you learned?"

"The turian imperial anthem is called 'Die for the Cause.' Think that says a lot about them."

I laughed softly. "Yes, I have to agree with you. I'm looking forward to seeing the turian's imperialist homeworld for myself."

As with our upcoming visit to this imperial capital, I enjoyed Shepard's strength around me. How she never once let me go. How she needed to keep me close. And we spent the rest of the night together like this, eternally close in bed. Enjoying one another without going too far just yet. This prince of mine deserved to have me at all times. But I still wanted our next first time to be more thematic. So she found more patience in me, and I found more in her. Supportive for life—she knew she had my heart tonight.