One week later…
"Alright everyone let's get this started," Veronica said as she took her seat at the council table "We have a lot to go over today, and I'd like to get home to my wife before midnight."
She sat before every member of the Mojave Council, save the former legion leaders who would be ratified as official leaders in the next few months, gathered to not only go over the month's issues and motions but to oversee the transfer of power from Rex to her. There was a surprising amount of paperwork involved thanks to Rex's education on efficient bureaucracy from his father. Finally, after a week of documentation and authorization Veronica now held Rex's position as…well they really didn't have a name yet.
"Before we begin, exactly how long is the Courier out of commission this time?" Brent Buxton asked from his chair as he chewed on a cigar. "I think I speak for many here when I say I'm concerned with the continuation of governance."
"Rex is out of commission for at least two months," Veronica scowled at Buxton through the trail of smoke coming off his cigar. "Understand that after the battle with the New Legion and almost dying Rex has been under an incredible amount of stress. His doctor ordered at least two months away from the stresses of running the Mojave for the sake of his physical and mental health. In the meantime, I will be taking all of Rex's duties as my own, but if you're so concerned with his absence I'll console you with the fact that he'll be back in action for the rededication of the dam."
"As long as our enemies see the Courier alive and well I'll be happy," Buxton said inhaling and blowing a ring of smoke towards Veronica. "One thing the skinny bastard is good at is bullshitting his own importance to the ignorant of the wasteland."
"Ahem," Alena cleared her throat from her seat drawing Veronica from a glare. "How about we start the meeting? I have a dinner to get to tonight, and I'd like some time to wash the dust off me."
"You're right Alyssa," Veronica said shooting Buxton another sharp look before continuing, "Alright folks if we're done trading barbs we have three things on the list today. Debate and hopeful authorization regarding the creation of a reserve of precious metals and materials behind the Mojave Cap, Intel from the NCR regarding issues concerning agriculture and coastal storms, and any miscellaneous issues anyone wants to bring forward. Any objections or Issues pressing enough to warrant their own place on the Outline?"
When no one raised any objections or suggestions she continued.
"Okay, now as you all know from the outlines, you all no doubt meticulously studied, it has been an idea from the formation of the Mojave government to have a nationally backed currency," Veronica began as aides passed around folders full of relevant information. "Over the last two years, we've not only standardized our version of the cap, casting it from an alloy of aluminum and tin, and started a stockpile of rare earth elements. These elements not only require far more energy to produce in the vending machines than common material but thanks to legislation and safeguards in vending machine programming remain valuable. As a result of our stockpiling the number of rare earth elements within our reserve is worth around $50 million caps with each cap being equivalent to five NCR dollars. Today I'd like to have a vote to officially ratify the Mojave cap as our currency and grant the reserve legitimate regulatory power over all loans and banking transactions in the Mojave."
"This is Economic terrorism," Buxton piped up. "If we were to officiate this then the NCR dollar becomes worthless and alienates our biggest trading partner. And I don't think any of you are ignorant of the NCR mint's mysterious printing of several hundred thousand high-value notes further devaluing the damn things."
"How could we not?" Alyssa said with a shrug "You haven't shut up about it, and all the intel confirms that the notes were printed with official printing presses under an authorization from the mint's head. If anything, this is a perfect opportunity to solidify our currency against theirs. I know I'm still new to this region and maybe my outsider's view is a little off from local sensibilities, but I truly believe the NCR needs a competitor otherwise it becomes the de facto superpower of post-war America."
"In addition to keeping the NCR in check, it also forces them, the Turncoat Legion, and the Midwest Brotherhood to use our currency if they have any hope of trading with us," Sylas Reger said with a contemplative scratch of his chin. "No doubt solidifying the Mojave as the cornerstone of trade and commerce on the Continent. In one fell swoop, we force them to come to any trade negotiation without a full deck."
Buxton looked genuinely shocked as he considered Sylas's words.
"Oh well as long as you all are thinking with dollar signs in your eyes I'll be watching the western borders when the mob of jobless ingrates comes streaming across the mountains," Buxton said red touching his cheeks as he chewed his cigar. "Here's an idea, they'll be able to use all of their useless money as kindling when they're burning us at the stake."
"You're being melodramatic," Gloria Venk, the leader of Glory, chided. "All the people of the NCR need to do is start doing business in Caps. Yes, there will be a period of growing pains as they change over but in the end, the people of the NCR already rely on us for everything from cosmetics to weapons. It's just the natural progression of things as the polarities shift."
"Somehow, I don't see our friends on the other side appreciating our efforts at slicing out a heaping cut of their sovereignty like a Brahmin steak," Buxton said looking around the table. "At the end of the day, any and all benefits aside, this will only shift the NCR closer to chaos. Which I'll remind everyone is bad for business not to mention the regular joes working hard to feed their families."
"Oh, Buxton I had no idea you had the little man in mind," Gloria said with a smirk "Considering you mark up the prices of your whiskeys by around 200% whenever you sell to the NCR."
"That is to cover the exorbitant costs of shipping such high-quality merchandise over a mountain range," Buxton snarled back "And we both know that my prices are a fuckin steal compared to what you all are about to do."
"You make it sound as if this is decided," Alyssa said, "We haven't actually voted on the proposal yet."
"Oh, don't give me that crap," Buxton's eyes looked at each leader in kind "The Courier has been setting this up for almost two years now, and none of you have the spine to say no to it. Now, I could give two shits about whatever hair-brained cloak and dagger bullshit you've got going on right now Veronica, but the wellbeing of Serenity, my home, is threatened if this move destroys the very bedrock of the NCR economy."
"We hear you, Brent," Sylas said with a nod "I believe every one of us knows the implications of a yes vote today, but we also understand that this must be done. If the Mojave is to advance beyond the loose collection of city-states and frontier villages we must establish ourselves as a nation of law and commerce. With that in mind, I motion for the council to make a vote."
"I second that motion," Alyssa said.
"Alright, all in favor of founding the Mojave reserve and ratifying the Mojave Cap as our official currency and legitimizing the Mojave reserve with regulatory powers say aye," Veronica said.
Twenty-five hands raised.
"All opposed?"
Three hands including Buxton's were raised.
"Alright, twenty-five for, three against, and three abstaining," Veronica declared for the record keepers "With that the motion passes and we can move onto the next issue."
Most of the assembled leaders nodded consent save for Buxton and his holdouts.
"Alright, there are two major pieces of intel regarding the NCR that are pressing enough for discussion," Veronica began "The first is that a series of powerful storms have been slamming into the NCR's coasts and hammering their cities and towns in the region. As a result, a hefty chunk of their population has moved inland placing stresses on their infrastructure and resources. At the same time, we've received word that both their Brahmin population and commercial farming operations have been infected with a virus affecting the Brahmin and a parasitic plant affecting their crops."
"We've seen a similar outbreak in our own Brahmin and crops, but since our system is well spread out across communities we've managed to identify the threat before it spread to more than around five percent of our livestock and crops. The NCR wasn't so lucky it seems, they're an agricultural community is so massive that by the time they noticed the first outbreaks it had already spread to around half their crops and herds."
"My god," A leader said her face slack with disbelief "Half of their food ruined."
"We've already mass printed thousands of nutrition packs and are waiting on the NCR to ask for assistance to send them over," Veronica said with a satisfied look to Buxton "Our estimates are far and above the amount needed to help them through the crisis."
"Now isn't that convenient?" Buxton asked as he sliced the end of a cigar and lit it with a match "If I didn't have complete trust in the validity and morality of our military. A military under the sole command of Courier and his lackeys, I might add."
"With oversight from the council," Alyssa said as Buxton glared at Veronica "I'm sure we had nothing to do with the outbreaks."
"Are you sure Alyssa?" Buxton asked. "Because I wouldn't put it passed the Courier to create crises all over the NCR just so he and the Mojave could be the saviors. Hell, with what I know about Big Mt. don't you all have some weather control tech perfect for making storms?"
More than a few faces around the table looked at Veronica with questioning looks.
"I can assure we would never risk causing a famine in an attempt at political retribution," Veronica said with a scowl. "Take me at my word, our goal is not to force the NCR into crisis and come off as a savior."
"Oh, I suppose that would just be a fringe benefit?" Another leader asked "I don't think Buxton's claims are unfounded. The Courier founded the Mojave on deceit after all and let none of us forget how he handled Mr. House or Benny."
"Let's break the violins out for the psychopaths, shall we?" Veronica said with a snort "Rex is not the man he was two years ago and if you doubt his dedication to every citizen of the Mojave then you're insane."
"Alright!" Alyssa interrupted "We can't sit here bickering at each other like children. Regardless of our stance on the NCR, we need to do everything we can to ensure that as little loss of life occurs in the NCR. From a humanitarian point of view, we need to ensure that the people of the NCR are saved from famine. I know this will be a challenge even with the nutrient packs and we'll need to balance our own food production against helping the NCR. Every settlement, including those of the former Legion tribes, are already boosting production to handle our new population. So, we can help the NCR and ourselves at the same time by ensuring the people view the Mojave not only as a trade partner but a true friend in their time of need."
"Alyssa's right," Sylas said quieting the leaders in his section with a raised hand. "It does no one any good pointing fingers at each other while a humanitarian crisis happens just across our border. If we play this right, not only will we helping over seven hundred thousand people fill their bellies but also allow us to ease the cap on the NCR as they focus on rebuilding their agricultural base. After all, if they'll be buying equipment and seed from us they may as well use our currency."
"What's important now is helping the people in need," Veronica said offering a nod to Buxton "The nutrient packs are being printed by a small array of vending machines as we speak and will be ready for shipment within the month. In the meantime, I'd like to put a proposal forward to lower the prices on exports of medicine and hygiene products. In the coming months, the people of the NCR will need these supplies almost as much as the nutrient packs, and I hope that every one of you will comply."
Veronica winced as the council broke out into bickering again.
So much for making it home before dinner, she thought to herself.
?/?
The late afternoon sun hung in the sky casting orange light across New Vegas filling the unlit neon tubes with fire. Jack walked down one of the streets in Freeside with Tali chittering away at her side. In the weeks since the pair had gone shopping together, the two women found themselves spending time with each other more often. Surprisingly Jack found she liked talking to the Qaurian and enjoyed her perspective; Just another thing to blame Shepard for.
Today they were visiting an art gallery where a local artist had made it her mission to track down every member of the Normandy's crew and paint them. Despite most of the crew being scattered to the wind supposedly every one of the combat squad had a painting up. Tali had drug Jack out to go see it, spouting how the art would either be good or amusing. She didn't mind, of course, supposedly the artist was more famous for the homemade liquor she served at her exhibitions than the art itself and recent events had Jack in the mood for hard liquor.
"I wonder how she painted Samara," Tali said as they walked down the sidewalk towards the gallery. "Maybe she put wings on her that would be a sight to see, wouldn't it? Seeing Samara with wings like some kind of avenging…what's the human word?"
"Angel?" Jack offered.
"Yes! An angel of Jus…." Tali was interrupted by two boys darting out from behind the street corner screaming.
They ran past the two women and Jack saw fear on their faces as a loud whir filled the air. Not a moment after the boys had run past them did a small go-cart bearing two thin girls, one hanging off the top with what looked like a bazooka on her shoulder, came screaming out from the adjacent street. Jack watched as the girl driving the cart attempted to drift around the street corner only to lose control and spin out throwing the other girl off the cart and into a pile of trash bags. The cart itself slammed into a mailbox a few feet from the trash bags and the driver started cursing someone's whore mother.
"Ow," The trash bag girl groaned as she sat up revealing a familiar set of coppery locks.
"Alena," Jack said as the goggled girl looked at Jack and immediately tried to hide in the trash.
"Alena! Come on load another potato we have to chase after…" the other girl exclaimed slapping the side of the cart before realizing she was being watched. "Oh, ah are you adults with any authority?"
"Would really matter if we did?" Tali asked.
"No I suppose not," The girl said as she stood up and stepped out of the cart to bow in greeting "My name is Mara Moorland heir to Ashe Moorland. You are an Alien, aren't you? Do you wear that suit because your body is gelatin?"
"Yes and no," Tali said with a raised eyebrow hidden under her mask. "I am a Qaurian, we're a race of people that live on big spaceships and because of that our immune systems don't work well. So, my species wears these suits so we can go out into the galaxy at large without worrying about infections or sickness."
"Whoa," Mara said her eyes wide "Can you spit acid?"
"No."
"Can you melt people's brains?"
"No, why would…?"
"Can you lay…"
"Alright, this isn't a game of twenty questions," Jack said stopping the deluge of questions as she dragged Alena out of the trash. "What were you two doing?"
"We….were…ah…" Alena said pure panic twisting her face as her breathing turned ragged.
"Some stupid boys decided that they'd mess with us, so Alena built a potato cannon and I stole a go-cart so we could take the fight to them," Mara said putting extra emphasis on her portion of the assault. "We are engaged in total war today and I would appreciate it if you would kindly move aside."
"Somehow, I don't think Shepard would let me live it down if I let you two go," Jack said rubbing her temples.
"Yes," Tali said picking the potato gun up off the ground and whistling "Alena you said you built this yourself correct?"
"Yes, did I do something wrong?" Alena asked shrinking down into herself.
"No, actually you've put together a competent pneumatic grenade launcher," Tali said her eyes locking with Alena's through her goggles. "This is beyond just a simple potato launcher. Alena if you were to tweak this a little bit you could break bones. You're very talented and should be proud of your work though I can't condone your motivations for…"
Tali's words were interrupted by the shrill shouts of teenaged boys screaming in the distance. They turn to see the two boys from earlier screaming down the street on bicycles with two very large and very angry hounds running at their sides. Before anyone could react Alena grabbed the cannon from Tali's hands and a belt of potatoes from the cart. She stepped forward and clipped the end of the belt to a feeder on the cannon and took aim.
Several loud ponks rang out as a volley of potatoes went flying at high speeds. Two potatoes collided with one boy's chest sending him flying backward off his bike, the dogs took one to the face each sending them rolling into the asphalt, and the second boy was hit in the crotch sending him crumpling forward. He crashed into the cement in a heap of softly crying boy and bike. The moment the attack was over Alena stepped back and bashfully turned around to hand the gun back to Tali.
"Sorry, I needed to use it," she muttered.
Jack and Tali looked at each other for a moment and then to the crumpled boys in the middle of the street.
"Remind me never to get into a gunfight with you," Tali said.
"Alright, now that the idiots have had their balls acquainted with their tonsils explain where exactly you stole the cart from?" Jack ordered as she crossed her arms.
"I found it completely unguarded in a truck," Mara said simply with no guilt in her voice. "it was practically begging to be stolen."
"You know that's against the law, correct?" Tali asked.
"That's why I used the word "steal"," Mara said crossing her arms.
"Technically you used the word "stolen"," Alena reminded her before meeting Jack's bemused look and bowed her head.
"You're not helping Alena," Mara muttered before turning back to Jack "What do you plan to do with us? Prison? Torture? Perhaps torture in prison?"
"Ah…no," Jack said suppressing a smile. "If I was Shepard I'd lecture the both of you on the need for helmets or some shi… such. Instead, I'm going to look the other way while the two of you return that cart before the owner reports it stolen."
"Why would we do that?" Mara asked tapping her foot against the asphalt.
"Because it's not yours, you little brat," Jack said her tone souring on her lips "If you don't I'm going to ensure that you spend the next year scrubbing toilets in Government building. How's that for a good reason?"
Mara looked into Jack's eyes for several long seconds before she blinked and sighed.
"Alright," Mara said as she turned to Alena "Come on Alena, let's take this back."
Alena muttered something incomprehensible and started the cart before the pair darted off down the street presumably in the direction of where they'd gotten it from. Jack sighed and chuckled softly before turning around to see Tali staring at her. She straightened her back and banished the smile before coughing.
"What?"
"Oh nothing," Tali said with a tilt of her head before turning around and started walking towards the gallery.
The "gallery" such as it was a wide-open space built into the remains of an old storehouse with the roof missing and only the high stone walls still standing. Inside stood around fifteen slabs of quarried stone, the smallest being the size of a fridge and the biggest stood at least ten feet tall and around five feet wide. A thick tarp lay across it hiding the painting underneath.
Normandy crewman walked between the strange shifting portraits taking in the uneven almost ethereal way the paint was brushed onto the rock. As they stepped into the gallery Jack spotted Mordin and Samara looking at a painting of Grunt draped in silk robes woven together with strange looking flowers. A plaque beneath the painting read: Peace.
"Intriguing," Mordin said as Tali and Samara approached "Jack, Tali; Thoughts on meaning?"
The pair looked at it for a few moments as Samara seemed to be more interested in their faces then the painting itself. Jack wasn't really an art person but she could appreciate how the thousands of strokes slashed across the flat rock created an almost perfect image of Grunt. What the hell it actually meant was a mystery to her but she could appreciate the artwork nonetheless.
"No idea," Tali said cocking her head to the side. "Human art always mystifies me, to be honest."
"I think it's a picture of Grunt in a dress," Jack said with a chuckle "Anyone actually double check his equipment?"
"Better not let him hear that," Tali said looking around for the Krogan.
"Grunt isn't here Tali," Samara said with a smile "He and a few of the other crewmembers are aiding the construction crews in salvaging parts from the Normandy."
"Oh, how's that going?" Tali asked, "I haven't been able to assist Kenneth or Gabby since I started working on the device and examining Zeta."
"I've heard even less than you, I'm afraid," Samara said with a stoic nod to Shepard as she and Thane walked by "In the last few months I've filled my time with aiding the local lawmen and women. Even with the relative peace brought on by the Mojave government, there are still those who would prey on the weak and innocent."
"Keeping the Justicar spirit alive," Jack said snatching a glass of blue liquid from a passing tray. "Can't say I blame you; there will always be shitheads who need to be put down."
"Yes, I suppose that's true," Samara said raising an eyebrow "So, how fares the Courier in his recovery? His absence has caused quite a stir amongst the people of the Mojave."
"Rex? Oh he's recovering well at the Tops," Jack explained taking a swig of the liquid and regretting it as what tasted like paint thinner assaulted her tongue "Shit that's awful; anyway, he's ordered his place to be remodeled to accommodate me and his daughter. So, for the time being, he's rented one of the presidential suites at the Tops until his place is ready."
"The greatest test of any relationship is a remodel, or so I'm told," Samara said with a smile "It is nice to see you enjoying the presence of another enough to live with him."
"Well he has good taste in booze and questionable taste in lovers, so we're practically two peas in a pod," Jack said her eyes scanning the assembled paintings and locking in on one of her.
Jack tilted her head to one side as she stepped through the light crowd towards the painting. It was a life-sized rendition of Jack mostly naked with blue fire curling off her arm and fingertips. She seemed to be floating in a sea of dark blues and greys with the flame being the only thing holding back the washed out colors all around her.
"Do you like it?"
Jack turned to her left and found a short woman standing next to her. Her coarse black hair was tied back into a paint-stained ponytail and her plump brown face was covered in splotches of white. The woman's eyes flicked from the painting to Jack and back again a few times as Jack thought about the question.
"My tits aren't that big,"
"Oh sorry about that," The woman said with a laugh "Breasts are the only thing I can get right it seems, but when I dreamed of you I saw you…in the buff."
"You dreamed of me…naked?" Jack said taking a step back from the woman.
"It's not like that," The woman said with a giggle "I drink my brew and sometimes it gives me strange dreams. Lately, they've all been about you folks and the big squid."
"Big…Squid?" Jack asked as an impossible thought crossed her mind.
"More of a cuttlefish the biologists tell me," the woman said as she withdrew a small black box with a red button atop it. "I was saving the big reveal for more people but since you've got that expectant look on your face…"
She pressed the button and the tarp masking the largest painting fell to the floor. Every member of the Normandy's crew in attendance stared at the painting letting the deafening silence wrap around them. Then someone started muttering something and Jack heard several people start shouting, but all Jack could do was stare at the image of a Reaper spouting blue fire as it descending onto a burning New Vegas.
"So what do you think?" The woman asked, "I call him Remnant."
/
Alena and Mara walked down the strip towards the Tops. Mara had invited herself to dinner and was at the moment babbling about meeting the oh so famous Courier. Though Alena had her doubts her father would entertain Mara considering the fact that he'd been hiding himself away in the Suite's meeting room for the last few days. No doubt he was plotting, in Alena's opinion, adults were always plotting for some reason or another. She wondered how that didn't get tiring after a while.
"Heyo Miss Alena, how are you doing tonight?" Paulie, the usual doorman for the Tops, asked as he let the pair in.
"Uh fine Paulie, is my father in?" Alena asked as Mara darted past her towards the elevators.
"Hasn't left the suite all day," Paulie said as he chuckled at the small girl darting across the lobby.
"Thanks," Alena said before running after Mara.
"You shouldn't run through the lobby," Alena scolded her friend as the pair rode the private elevator up to the suite. "You could hurt someone or yourself."
"You sound like a crone Alena," Mara said poking Alena in the face "It's not like I'm going to trip over a bomb or something."
Alena looked at Mara and raised an eyebrow.
"Okay that only happened once and I told you that was a secret," Mara glared at Alena as the elevator door opened up to the Presidential suite. Soft music flowed into the elevator and the girls peeked their heads out to look into the suite.
"Think of what you're saying before you speak,
These days I can go without enemies."
Her father sat with his back against the suite's big window that looked out at the slowly falling sun and New Vegas as it lit up. Alena put a hand out to block Mara as she examined her father; instead of his usual intense look of concentration, she saw a much softer look on her father's face. He was scratching a stick of charcoal onto white page of a notebook and humming along to the music.
"We're killing off the option to make amends
Oh darling, sometimes there's no such thing as more than friends"
There were dozens of other pieces of paper littering the floor and as Alena timidly stepped forward she saw drawings of people. She didn't recognize most but in several, she found herself, Jack, Miss Veronica, and one even had a picture of her mother as a teen. The music stopped and Alena looked up to find her father staring at her with a relaxed smile on his face.
"So, the courier draws," Mara said as she picked up a picture of a man wearing a big mask that made him look like an angry old man. "Is this how you steal souls?"
"I've been cutting back on that lately," Her father said putting down the paper and with a groan of pain stood up to tower over Mara "Bad for digestion you see, so I assume you're Mara?"
"Yes I am," Mara smiled smugly and exhaled through her nose "Mara Moorland, future headwoman of the Moorlands and battle sister to Alena."
"Battles sisters, eh?" Her father chuckled and squatted down to look Mara in the eye "So what does that make us?"
"It makes you the Courier," Mara said extending a hand "I'll shake your hand and recognize you as my equal, father of Alena. By the way, do you have any monsters at your command? Because if you do then there's this stupid boy I'd like to get eaten."
"A pleasure to meet a friend of Alena's," Her father wrapped his black metal hand around Mara's and shook it "I'm afraid I don't have any monsters at my command, but I do have a motorbike that spits lightning storms in my garage."
"Really?!"
"No, but that would be fun wouldn't it?" Her father chuckled and made to stand only to rise an inch before falling back to the floor.
"Are you alright?" Mara asked as her father grimaced and managed to stand up.
"Just fine," Her father said hand on one knee as he stood up. "My knees have been giving me trouble since the attack. Nothing to worry about, so how about I whip up some dinner? Mara, you look like someone who appreciates a good burger."
"Like a Brahmin burger or a radroach burger? My Uncle Eth makes radroach burgers all the time, and wonders why he can't get a wife," Mara said as she followed a hobbling Rex towards the presidential suite's kitchen.
"Then you're in luck because I make the best burger in the wastes and I never use radroach," Alena watched her father and Mara disappear into the kitchen with her eyes narrowed.
She slipped off her goggles and picked up the charcoal drawing her Father had been working on. It was a duplication of a picture by the looks of it and Alena closely consider it. On the paper were around forty smiling people with what looked like couples old and young in front of a cluster of smiling children. Standing front and center was a thin boy with short cropped hair and in his arms was a small girl clutching what looked like a wilted wildflower. Beneath the smiling people written in thick black charcoal was:
Dust Founding day celebration, June 1st, 2267
Alena cocked her head to the side and looked up towards the kitchen and looked at her father's back. She could smell spices and raw meat on the air over the smells of charcoal and paper. Her eyes fell back to the picture, and she examined the boy who must have been her father. It was a little hard to believe that her father had once been that young and smiled like that. In this picture, he couldn't have been that much older than her and the girl in his arms had to be his sister. The one who died the day her mother's tribe saved him from the ruin of Dust.
She'd seen him smile of course. Whenever he thought she didn't know he was looking at her he had a smile on his face and of course whenever he was with Jack. Neither of those were like the smile in the picture though, in the picture she saw a boy ready to conquer the world. The boy was at ease and beaming, no doubt happy to be with his family and friends. Alena felt a little sad she'd never meet the boy in the photo, but as she looked up and saw her father keeping a plate of veggies out of Mara's grasp she smiled.
"I like who that boy became," She whispered to the drawing.
A few hours later, Alena lay on the Presidential suite's fold-out mattress and tried to fall asleep. Though that was made almost impossible by Mara clinging to her side and snoring loudly as she slept next to her. After she'd spent a few hours grilling her father on every little myth and rumor she knew about him Mara and Alena had talked her father into allowing her to sleep over. The pair had spent most of the night exchanging whispered tales of their lives before coming to New Vegas before Mara passed into the void of sleep. She then decided to latch onto Alena and snore like a death claw disrupting any chance Alena had at a good night's sleep.
After an hour of that torture, Alena wriggled her way out of Mara's grasp and padded towards the kitchen for some water. She passed the window looking out across a glimmering New Vegas and almost jumped when she saw Jack's silhouette in the neon gloom. The woman stood with her back to Alena and a bottle of something brown in one hand as the shifting neon light played across her silhouette. Alena looked back to the bed and then back to Jack and decided to step up next to her.
"Bad dreams?" She asked as Jack stared out the window.
"Something like that," Jack looked down at Alena "Your little friend too loud?"
"Yeah, both when she's sleeping and in a general sense," Alena replied, she could smell alcohol on Jack "Where'd my Father go?"
"He's asleep, don't tell him I said this but he's kind of cute when he's asleep," Jack took a swig off the bottle "In a goofy sort of way."
"Okay,"
They stared out at the glittering lights of New Vegas and let the silence comfortably sit between them. After a while, Alena looked at Jack and said:
"So, my Father's up to something,"
"Yeah, what do you know?"
"He didn't get sick a week ago," Alena answered, "That was a show for someone."
"Your dad is nothing if not a showman," Jack said with an annoyed laugh "There's a play in the works, kid. Lots of players on the board all aiming knives at each other's backs and your father's back is the biggest on the board."
"Is he…Is he going to be alright?" Alena shuddered a little as the words escaped her lips.
"I'd like to tell you he'll come out of this smirking as usual, but this is different," Jack's tone was soft, but Alena could hear a hardness just beneath her soft tone. "They almost killed him once and are pulling strings to hurt him and the Mojave. I've dealt with cold-blooded assholes who'd rather slit your throat than say hello, but this is different. This time we're dealing with people who would rather fight a war than make peace, so no I don't know if he'll come out alright."
"Are you scared?"
"Me? Alena, I've walked into the lair of monster bugs supped up with reaper tech and held back a tidal wave of mutant locusts with these hands," Jack clenched her fists "I've walked into hell with Shepard and came out bloody and raw but alive. Frankly, I'm scared shitless but not for myself. You kill the things I've killed and survived the shit I've survived you accept that it could all end In a second. What you're not prepared for is when the little slice of normal all comes crashing down around and reality comes back like the bitter bitch she is."
Alena absorbed Jack's words and stared out on the neon lights of New Vegas. Jack was very obviously drunk, but Alena could feel the truth in her words. At that moment, Alena realized that she knew very little about the woman her father loved. Jack was always strong and defiant and had a crass insult for anyone who questioned her resolve, yet here she stood shaken by something. Unable to think of anything to say Alena just stared out into the neon of New Vegas for a while longer until her she yawned.
"I think I should go back to bed," Alena said as she turned back towards her fold-out mattress and a snoring Mara. "Good night Jack, I…uh think everything will be okay."
"Of course, your dad has Shepard and me on his side," Jack said to the neon lights of New Vegas, "Maybe we can glare the fucking Reaper to death."
Alena looked at Jack nodded and crawled back into bed wondering what a Reaper was.
?
The next morning, Shepard sat in her suite looking over a holo display of the painting. Thane sat beside her a frown on his face as they considered the meaning of the painting. Shepard stared into the burning red eyes of the Reaper as it descended onto a New Vegas wrapped in orange fireballs. A pit had opened in her stomach as her worst fears for this universe were fed.
"Perhaps," Thane considered "She saw an image of a reaper or heard a description from one of the crew."
"No, that's the one thing Rex and I agreed on holding back," Shepard said as she leaned into Thane "Knowledge of the Reapers is strictly under wraps including photos and descriptions. Though, I hardly want to believe she had a "vision" of a Reaper through some psychic dream."
"I admit that it is hard to believe, but if she did, in fact, have a vision of a Reaper in a complete void of any relevant information then we must take it seriously," Thane wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him "Siha, I've spent some of my time here among the people and even some of the scientists studying the stranger sides of the wastes. There are people, be it through radiation, FEV, or even alteration, that possess certain abilities some would call psychic. They are called Psykers and some are said to be able to predict the future."
"Psychics?" Shepard said as she sighed into his chest "You know I'm starting to empathize with Rex when he grumbles about being caught up in so many clichés."
"You would rather spend your days in the quiet life of a civilian then?" Thane asked as he held his Siha close. "So, what do you plan to do? Or will I find us a nice place to meditate on the end of the worlds?"
"Oh, I had no idea Drell were capable of sarcasm," Shepard looked up at him and sighed. "I've got Edi pouring over the message Zeta received from this universe's version of the Council races for any signs of indoctrination, but from what we have she can't be sure. This universe is a hundred years more advanced than our own and we have no idea if the Reapers came or were beaten. Hell, we don't even know a thing about the people who sent the message in the first place and the lack of an Asari voice in the transmission unnerves me."
"Yes, it seems odd that the other races are represented while the Asari are not," Thane pondered "Though as we've discovered there are many differences between this world and our own. Perhaps the inherent instability of this universe's Element Zero makes biotics impossible. If that's the case the Asari may never have developed into the race that we know them as."
"Always a possibility," Shepard said "I hate having no information like this. Even when I was hunting Saren practically blind it was better than this. We have absolutely no idea where we stand or even the hierarchy of the other races, and honestly, I don't even know what will happen when they get here. Tyrone is preparing for war and Veronica is focused on the NCR, and I just can't stand being…"
"Being what?"
"This is going to sound conceited but not being the decider," Shepard admitted after a few moments of starting up at Thane "The last few years, it's been down to what I decided that shaped the outcomes of everything. Now, I'm just a piece on the board of the larger conflict against forces that I don't know or even have a connection to."
"You are not a piece on any board Siha," Thane said as he stroked her hair. "Though we are not the principal actors of this world you and the rest of the crew are important to this world. With our help, New Vegas and the Mojave now have access to advanced processors and mass effect technology. With people like Rex and Veronica at the helm, there's no telling how high the people of this world will ascend. Your actions, even if they are overshadowed by others, will never be meaningless Siha."
"You're starting to sound like my mom," Shepard said "She just loved going on and on about how a single soldiers decision can make or break a campaign. I grew up wanting to be that one soldier, the plucky Spacer kid that wins the day with a well-thrown grenade. Then suddenly, you're standing at in the citadel trying to decide whether to save the council from an eldritch cuttlefish. After defeating Sovereign and coming back from the god damned dead I thought that I'd enjoy being the observer for once, but nooooo I just feel useless."
"Such is the curse of meddlers," Thane said offering her a smile.
"Watch it," Shepard almost managed to keep the smile from her lips "You're right though, I just can't leave well enough alone it seems. Enough about potential apocalypses how are you feeling?"
"The desert air is a boon to my illness, and I find some of the test parks constructed by the Mojave biologists to be more than adequate areas to practice my exercises," Thane said as he ran his fingers through her black hair. "You should visit one with me, it really is quite amazing how plants designed to take advantage of the wasteland environment form a strange beauty."
"I think I'll take you up on that as soon as I get through my meeting with Veronica today," Shepard snapped her fingers and sat up "Oh yes, she also wanted me to ask you about helping Rex with his physical therapy. Apparently, he's having trouble with some of his joints and muscles."
"Hm, I wouldn't mind someone to talk to during my exercises and I would like to repay his hospitality in a way not involving a pistol," Thane said before nodding. "Yes, I believe that I can help the Courier with some of his physical therapy."
"Good," Shepard said as she stood up and grabbed a jacket "I'll have something good to tell Veronica today at least."
She bent down and kissed Thane before leaving the suite. Shepard walked the hall towards the elevator and found the Crewmen staying at the Ultra-Luxe standing in doorways in clumps of conversation. They stopped talking as she passed to nod or salute, but none tried to talk to her directly. Most had a grim look of determination on their face, but more than a few looked angry. As Shepard stepped onto the elevator she clenched her fists and exhaled banishing her own apprehensions of what the painting prophesized.
"It's a painting," She told herself as she cut her way across the early morning crowds of the Strip and into the Lucky 38.
The lobby was its usual maelstrom of paperwork and activity but in front of the receptionist's desk was a group of NCR soldiers. At the desk itself, a well-dressed woman with braided blond hair and bright green eyes leaned with her back towards the desk. She regarded Shepard with a curious look before turning around and saying something to the receptionist and snapping her fingers. The soldiers formed up around the woman and without a word, they hustled out of the front door in perfect formation.
"What was all that about?" Shepard asked the receptionist after she made her way over.
'Some big shot bimbo from the NCR, Pamela Voorhees, the daughter of some general or something," The receptionist said as she filed her nails "Regardless of who she is, she did not have an appointment unlike you Miss Shepard so go right up and you have to say hello to that cute fish boy of yours for me."
"Uh, I will and thank you," Shepard said with a nod before making her way to the elevator.
Shepard rode the elevator up and when she stepped out to head towards Veronica's office she heard a loud beep and she looking out at the earth. She blinked once, twice, and by the third blink vertigo had dissipated and Shepard realized she was standing in a large observation room on Zeta. Veronica sat at a small desk with her back to the window and held a small laser pointer in her hand.
"Good morning Shepard," Veronica said putting the laser pointer down "I was just testing our new teleporter beam, tracks the laser and uses it to target an object or person for teleportation."
"I have no idea how you all get used to the whole teleportation thing," Shepard said as she looked around the room. "New Office?"
"No, it'll be Rex's once he's well enough to work again," Veronica explained as she stood up and turned to look down at the east coast of China. "I'm a little over the space thing myself what with the radiation and risk of being sucked out into the unforgiving void."
"It grows on you," Shepard said, "Go from diapers to basic training on space stations and ships and you'll be surprised at what you shrug off."
"And here I thought living in a bunker could give a gal strange living habits," Veronica leaned against the glass "So anything to tell me about the doom cuttlefish?"
"Nothing you probably don't already know," Shepard explained "It's a Reaper alright, but how it ended up as the centerpiece of an art exhibit we have no clue. The sheer odds of someone getting drunk on homebrewed hooch and hallucinating an exact depiction of a Reaper hurts my brain just thinking about them."
"How much of a threat can a single Reaper be?" Veronica asked as a small tremor shook the ship.
"It took an entire fleet of ships to destroy Sovereign," Shepard said as she watched a drop ship haul a large platform into orbit. "What's that?"
"Magnetic Acceleration Cannon," Veronica said as the platform began to glow bright green. "One of Tyrone's new toys, coils and condenses super-heated plasma around a three-ton tungsten slug and then uses mega magnetics and mass effect fields to hopefully puncture kinetic barriers. We have three ready for orbital deployment and another six being constructed as we speak."
"So, you figured out how to keep the Mass Effect cores from overheating, Shepard watched the platform's cannon extend licking out into space with tongues of magnetic distortion "That kind of weapon is on an entirely different level than what your people are used to. Are you sure you can handle the ramifications of something that powerful?"
"We'll have to be if anything comes at us from space," Veronica stared on as green energy coiled like a small sun at the platform's center. "As to whether or not we're ready for this, Prewar America and even the Enclave had orbital weaponry like this. Granted, they were solely kinetic weapons but the concepts are similar."
"How did you manage to build these so fast?" Shepard grimaced as the platform fired a glowing green bolt into the void beyond the window.
"Thanks to you and Alyssa," Veronica explained as she watched the coiling tail of plasma cool in the absolute cold of space. "With the discovery of our universe's Element Zero and the technology on this ship we've started experimenting with combining the power of mass effect fields with our own technology. Of course, this would have taken decades for any real progress but with the data and computers you gave us we've skipped decades of research."
"It appears I've underestimated you," Shepard looked out at the platform and all it represented.
This must be what the Salarians felt the first time they saw the Krogan beating back the Rachni, Shepard thought as she and Veronica watched the platform drift away. A knot in their stomachs as they realized what they had unleashed upon the universe.
"Well we're good at improvising," Veronica said as she turned back towards Shepard "Speaking of improvisation, how is the repair of the device coming?"
"Honestly, we're at a standstill," Shepard said as she shook away the lingering dread in her stomach "We can detect the damage to the central crystal, but beyond that, it's a mystery. Mordin and Tali have run themselves ragged with every kind of test imaginable, but in the end, we just don't have a clue about how the thing works let alone how to fix it."
"We're still going over everything in Reximus's base but if there's anything on trans-dimensional travel you'll be the first to know," Veronica promised as the platform drifted from view.
"Thanks," Shepard watched as the platform disappeared in the sun as they crossed over to the day side of the planet. "I just hope we know how to use it correctly."
"I do to Shepard," Veronica said as she drew a transportalponder from her belt "I do too."
They disappeared in a flash of light leaving the lonely room to the quiet hum of Zeta.
/OO\\
Down below in the Mojave, Alyssa groggily opened her eyes and inhaled the scents of lavender and vanilla from the sheets around her. As she sat up the smells of coffee and eggs cooking in her small kitchen hit her and Alyssa felt her stomach cry out for food. She stepped up of the bed and let the sheets fall away before grabbing a shirt and throwing it on. It was Roxanne's and almost long enough on Alyssa's shorter body to cover most of her shame.
"So she's finally awake," Roxanne chided playfully as she stepped into the bed room with a cup of coffee in hand.
"Mhmm," Alyssa said as she accepted the coffee and a kiss from the redhead before guzzling down the hot drink.
"You know sweets I've seen a lot of things, but your ability to chug down hot coffee will always astound me," Roxanne said as she led the groggy Alyssa out into the house's small dining room where a plate of eggs and potatoes waited. "Now eat up."
Alyssa yawned and sat down to stab one of the potatoes chunks with a fork. It struck hard spud halfway through and Alyssa halfway considered saying something. Roxanne could do many things, but cooking seemed to be a bit out of the range of her capabilities. She looked up and saw Roxanne wrapped in a silk kimono happily cleaning the dishes and Alyssa knew she didn't have the heart.
"So, what's on the itinerary today?" Roxanne asked as she scrubbed a skillet.
"Uh, I need to talk to Arthur before he leaves, and I have another meeting with Veronica about the crop yields today," Alyssa sighed as Roxanne joined her at the table and she locked her blue eyes with Roxanne's grey-green "What about you?"
"Oh, I've got some work at the shop, but I'm thinking about swinging by New Vegas today, maybe meet an old friend or two," Roxanne poured several spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee mug. "Thinking on taking a trip back home for a bit actually."
"Oh really?" Alyssa leaned forward. Despite sleeping with Roxanne for almost a month now Alyssa knew very little about the merchant aside from she liked to cuddle.
"Yeah, head up north to a little town called Dust, more of a wreck than a town these days, but home's home I suppose," Roxanne's expression grew cold for a moment before she caught Alyssa looking at her and smiled. "Trust me you'd hate it, just a bunch of ruins slowly falling into the ocean."
"What happened to it?"
"It got attacked when I was just a girl and only my siblings and I got out," a hint of longing resonated in Roxanne's voice as she spoke "After that I took up the trade and set out on my own but I like to visit every now and again to keep the memory alive."
"I understand," Alyssa said as she looked at the woman who'd been warming her bed "What happened to your siblings?"
"Oh my brother's a gearhead up north and my little sister is…" She trailed off before snapping her eyes towards the clock. "Oh look at the time won't you be late for your meeting?"
"Crap! You're right," Alyssa jumped up and shoveled a few bites of food into her mouth before running back to her bedroom.
When she came back out dressed and mostly groomed she found an empty dining room and her dishes clean beside the sink. She had no idea how Roxanne managed to disappear like that and made a silent vow to ask her about sometime. Today though she had something hard to do, and she couldn't be thinking of her redheaded lover.
Alyssa made her way out of her small house in the heart of New Colombia and out onto the main square. Several members of the Lyon's Pride stood in their power armor keeping most of the townsfolk separate from the men and women loading trucks with supplies. Fifteen people, mostly from the younger generations, darted around as Arthur Maxson barked orders. His eyes met Alyssa's and they turned from cool determination to a searing scowl as she approached.
"Everything packed?" Alyssa asked as she stepped through the line of Pride members.
"Why yes, we do have all of our supplies packed save for our power armor of course," Arthur's tone was monotone but she could see the anger in his eyes.
"You agreed to this Arthur," Alyssa said as Sarah stepped up to her left. "We need that power armor more than you do, and before you mention the energy weapons you've been more than compensated with the weapons I bought you."
"Yes because bullets and rifles from the Courier is a fitting replacement for the equipment our forbearers passed down," He glared up at Sarah and spat at their feet. "When I reach the true Brotherhood, I will go into exhaustive detail about how much of a traitor you are, Lyons."
"Tell them I said hi, you ungrateful shit," Sarah stared down at Arthur with a look somewhere between sad and furious.
"Arthur, we need that tech here more than you do," Alyssa insisted as the last of the supplies were loaded into the truck. "Besides, you'll be traveling through NCR territory, so if I was you I'd keep any mention of the true Brotherhood to a minimum."
One of Arthur's men patted him on the shoulder and whispered into his ear. He nodded and whispered something back before the man walked back to the trucks where the others were taking seats and tying down flaps. Arthur glared at Alyssa as the last of his people loaded into the trucks and only turned his back as the engines roared to life. He stepped forward and threw something over his shoulder that Alyssa caught easily.
It was a Vault girl bobble head, the luck edition, with its blond hair colored brown and written on its chest in black ink:
You'll fail them just like Vault 101. Just like Sally.
Alyssa looked up at Arthur as he climbed into the driver's seat of the lead truck and without a word of ceremony drove off. The people of New Columbia watched as the trucks drove down the highway towards the Mojave outpost. Dust clouds whirled out in cyclones as the trucks disappeared into the gloom of the west and Alyssa bit her lip holding back a cry of rage.
"It's alright," Sarah placed her hand on Alyssa's shoulder "We only lost sixteen, most of them are from Arthur's gang of squires, so we haven't lost too much."
"We lost the last descendant of Roger Maxson," Alyssa said as she rubbed her temples "I know most of the hardliners left for the Commonwealth with the outcasts, but this will hurt our credibility with the few veterans left."
"Don't worry about the hardliners Alyssa," Sarah said mussing her hair with an armored hand "Leave them to me and worry about keeping the town running, will you?"
"You get to smooze veterans and I get to focus on paperwork," Alyssa said batting away Sarah's hand as she watched the crowd disperse "Oh and a meeting on our crop yield and the factory proposal."
"Oh that, it's a damn fine offer from the Courier," Sarah said as she walked Alyssa towards the teleporter station. "We could bring in a lot of caps if we accept his offer, but in the end, that's your decision boss."
"You only call me boss when hard decisions are involved," Alyssa said as she stepped onto the pad "Need me to pick anything up? Jerky? Magazines?"
"I wouldn't mind some bubble gum," Sarah flipped Alyssa the bird as orange light teleported her away.
/
Jack's head hurt. She opened her eyes and saw Rex moving around their bed in the suite's master bedroom picking up clothes. He sang as he worked, his singing voice was surprisingly soft as he crooned out one of the songs Joker dug up from the Cerberus Archive. With a shift, she turned away from Rex and found a glass of water and two pain pills on the bedside table. The little shit was being considerate it seemed.
"I'm mad at you," she mumbled as he tossed their dirty clothes into a hamper.
"Really? I figured the empty whiskey bottle and the crack on my terminal screen was a strange way to say you love me," He said sitting on the bed in front of her.
"You're hiding something from me," She said as he tapped his fingers up and down her leg.
"I hide a lot of things," Rex said as he offered a weak smile "But I can probably narrow down what concerns you to the painting and the fact I faked being sick."
"You knew about the painting?" Jack asked as she sat up.
"I saw it a week ago when it was just an outline, but yes I knew about it," Rex said as he handed her the glass. "I told Veronica but it appears she's listening to Tyrone more than me these days. How are you holding up?"
"Me? Well, I'm just fucking peachy," Jack popped the pills into her mouth and washed them down with a gulp of water. "You should have been there Rex, the only other time I've seen that look on Shepard's face, pure fear, was when we stared down the Human Reaper. Hell, I couldn't talk for the rest of the night."
"The possibility of Reaper's existing in this universe was always there," Rex stared ahead, his grey eyes looking into some distant place. "If the other races exist in this universe then it stands to reason that the creepy cuttlefishes might exist too."
"It's fucking shit is what it is," Jack leaned back into the headboard and closed her eyes "The only good thing about being trapped here was that we could put off the thought of the Reapers coming to fuck us. Even with the battles and radiation, this was supposed to be a…"
"A pleasant distraction?" Rex's voice was neutral but Jack felt his hand clench around some of the blankets.
Jack opened her eyes and saw Rex staring at her. There was a lot loaded into that question and Jack felt angry at the implication of it. What right did he have to question her motives when he was in the middle of cloak and dagger bullshit? How the fuck did he think he was on some moral high ground when he made her sick worrying about his lying ass? She sat up to speak but he raised a hand.
"I know you didn't mean it like that," Rex said with an apologetic smile "But that is a question we'll have to face one day. What happens when Shepard gets the device working and you all can go home?"
"We go back and curb stomp the Reapers," Jack said her jaw tight.
"My sentiments exactly, after all, you and the rest of the Crew have done it'd be cowardly not to help," Rex wrapped his metal hand around hers and looked her in the eye. "I'll stand with Shepard against the Reapers, but Jack I'd…"
He trailed off as his eyes widened with panic that he blinked away a moment later.
"I'd like to make a future with you here."
"Where…where is this coming from?" Jack asked cold shock and maybe happiness coiling in her stomach.
"I've been thinking about things recently, about the past and the future, about everything I've lost and all that I've gained these last few years," Rex clutched her hand as he picked his words "There was a time that I thought that I'd spend the rest of my life watching over the Mojave as its protector. It was lonely but I told myself that it was enough and I should be happy for that much. Then I met you Jack, A woman born under a different sky that could kick my ass on her worst day. A woman I could see spending the rest of my life with."
"Are you proposing?"
"Yes and no," Rex sighed "You don't have to make any decisions today or any time soon, but I want you to know I'm entirely serious about this. I know I've been keeping things from you, and I'm sorry about that. We're supposed to be partners in this relationship, so no more secrets. If you want to know something then just ask, and I will give you the whole truth."
"Alright you plotting asshole, why are you even keeping anything from me?" Jack's face was caught somewhere between contemplation and anger.
"Well partly to make sure it looked genuine and the fact that if you actually knew the plan you'd probably hit me," Rex scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"Tell me everything,"
He did and she indeed slapped him.
/
Millions of miles away on the very edges of the solar system a ship of black metal slowly floated through the void. It was a truly massive ship, over a hundred kilometers in length that dwarfed the far-flung rogue asteroids that populated the edge of the system. If by chance any of the crew of Zeta had their instruments trained in the direction of the ship all they would see was a black smudge against the infinity of space. Within the ship itself, her crew sat either in stasis pods or on the skeleton crew that allowed the vessel to safely coast into the solar system.
Her captain, Nao Tiburtion, sat in the Bridge's command chair watching a display of the planet materialize as the scans came back. She was a Turian female and wrapped in the fine uniform of a Shard fleet commander, hearty material emblazoned with accents of gold and black on grey. The small bridge crewed she woke from stasis moved about the bridge hurriedly performing their duties as they slipped closer to the system's sole habitable planet.
"Captain Tiburtion," Zoli, her first mate and former battle commander in the Qaurian navy approached.
"Anything interesting from the scans?" The Turian captain asked.
"Yes, it appears that most of the planet is irradiated with only scattered pockets of civilization on one continent," The Qaurian picked a lock of hair out f her eyes as she scanned through the preliminary data. "We have detected a Zetan ship in orbit but it seems to be of an experimental model similar to their long-haul craft before the felling."
The captain watched as the Zetan craft materialized on her view screen and several dropships detached from the vessel. Three red blips appeared on the screen as they drifted into orbit from the ship's holds and the ship's computer registered mass effect cores coming online. Nao leaned forward and cocked her head as another signature came online.
"Are those…?"
"Mass Effect field amplified magnetic acceleration cannons," Zoli reached forward and her suit glowed for a moment as the Geth minds within the smart fabric manipulated the hologram to enlarge the image. "The weapons appear to be designed to defend the approach to the planet and not the ship itself."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't the Zetans known for their over-reliance on energy weapons over mass effect weaponry?" Nao tapped a command into the Omni tool on her belt and felt the ship shake as it began to slow.
"Yes, it was part of their military doctrine if I recall," Zol checked her station's view screen as a new long-range scan came in. "It appears that there are no Zetan life signatures onboard Ma'am."
"Then who's in command of the vessel?"
"An unknown species from what my scans are showing," Zol said as she looked up to her captain. "What shall we do Ma'am?"
"We'll need the diplomatic envoy, Id rather not have this turn into another Irune, thank you very much," Nao said as her second began rapidly inputting commands into her station's terminal "If these unknown life forms have the intelligence to operate and innovate on Zetan technology then perhaps they can be reasoned with."
"Very good Ma'am," Zoli nodded and looked sent commands to the skeleton crew down in the stasis bays. "The Krogan envoy and her entourage will be happy to finally be put to use."