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Supporter Story for : Espa Cole

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I hope you all enjoy the chapter update and the proper start of the Rannoch Arc, and hope you drop a Review and let me know what you think. But this isn't for that. I wanted to offer a special congratulations to a friend of mine named Bill the Something, who recently became an uncle.

And I wanted to give him a special congratulations on chapters through the week.

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"Nikos, Pyrrha." A hand, cold and inhuman, with fingers that were too few and larger than any normal man's.

"What…?" She blinked her eyes open and grimaced at the bright light as the hand receded, giving her space and peace to wake up she presumed. "What is it, Geth?"

"We wished to speak, but you were asleep." She groaned but nodded and, with a sigh, started to stretch and wake up properly. While the woman sat up in spite of her stiff, aching limbs the synthetic voice explained in its seemingly ever present, near monotone, "You have been asleep for ten hours, Nikos, Pyrrha. A normal Human woman only requires approximately nine hours of sleep unless they are ill. Are you ill, Nikos, Pyrrha?"

"No, I'm… Just tired, I suppose." Not to mention every single inch of her was cold, clammy and ached. "Gods, this is why you don't sleep in armor…"

Whether that ache was the chilly interior of the ship or actually was having slept in her armor, or perhaps a bit of both mixed with what happened before she'd met her automaton friend, she couldn't have guessed. Sighing tiredly, she stood on aching legs and sent her Aura coursing through her to relieve the pains and aches, groaning as it worked through her and leaning with an arm outstretched to reach one of the walls and prop herself up. Groaning, she stretched her muscles taut, the machine waiting patiently while she did, a few feet away with its flashlight like head on her.

"Do you, um…" She let her hands fall at her side and grimace, unsure of how to phrase what she wanted to say without being rude. Finally she shrugged, decided dying gave her some right to be abrupt, and simply asked, "Why are you staring at me like that, Geth?"

"We are waiting for you to be fully awake so that we may speak." The machine warbled simply in its synthetic, almost trembling voice.

"I… See." It didn't say anything, the flanges around its head twitching a few ties at her words, and she sighed as she realized it was waiting for permission to speak, and it didn't respond to her more subtle prompting. Again, she tried to prompt him, or it, to speak, "I suppose you have some questions. A fair thing."

Again, its flanges flicked and twitched expressively, but it didn't speak. Smiling politely in spite of the mild awkwardness, she leaned against the back of the ship, grimacing as her anxiety spiked at the ludicrous fear of what lay beyond it. On Remnant, falling from a Bullhead merely meant acrobatics and Aura use, but in space…?

"Well then…" She swallowed unsurely and turned her attention on the machine to ignore the spike of fear, "I am well awake, Geth, I assure you. Ask whatever you like, I'll answer to the best of my abilities, I promise."

"You do not fear us." It observed, the Mistralian woman's brows furrowing in confusion over if that was a question or a statement. After a moment of her silence, blinking confusedly and mouth half open to answer, the machine added, "You do not fear us, and you did not recognize what we are when we encountered you. Given the variable we were on Eden Prime, this is an oddity we do not understand."

"Oh, I see, you… You want to know who I am, then? Where I came from?" The machine's nod was small, and came a couple seconds later than she had expected it. Whether that was because it had needed to consider the question or only registered a need to nod in answer after he wasn't sure. "I-I see. Well, the… Answers may be difficult to believe, but I'm not from a planet that knows of your… I'm so sorry, is species the word or-or race, or…?"

"According to Alliance dictionaries and our understanding of the English language, both words are functionally applicable in this setting." The machine's flanges twitched again after a second and, inscrutable without so much as a face or any actual body language to emote with beyond said metal flaps.

"I'm sorry, but what's… English?" The word sounded strange to her and, this time, Geth did react. Its head tilted to one side curiously and it slid the majority of its weight to its unarmored side, as though regarding her. Suddenly anxious under that sudden scrutiny she half-murmured, "I… I am sorry if what I said was strange, but… But I honestly do not recognize the name."

"Query, Nikos." The machine preambled suddenly, Pyrrha nodding for it to speak when, again, it seemed to wait for her consent. "What is the name of the language you are speaking?"

"I'm… Speaking Valean Common, though I confess my grasp of the knowledge is not as grand as one might prefer." Her teachers had certainly made that clear, before her track as a tournament champion had begun in true earnest. The machine stilled, staring over her shoulder at the wall as best she could tell. After a few moments of the quiet she went on, unsure of what to say and hating the awkward feeling silence, "I doubt you would really know the name, Geth. It's from a planet you-"

"The word 'Valean' has zero applicable language matches in the Extranet's Human categories. We have searched four hundred and eighty two online language sites based around Human studies and the Alliance's history." The machine reported, interrupting her, its flourescent 'face' snapping around to her. "Valean as phrased indicates it is a place or region, likely named 'Vale' or 'Valea' based on our understanding of the English - Valean Common - language. Is this correct?"

"Yes." She nodded, crossing her arms under her lightly armored bust and relaxing as much as she could against the presumably armored hull of the ship she was in. After a half-second she added, rushed and a clear after-thought, "And it's… Vale. Not Valea, just… Just Vale. The Kingdom of Vale, point of fact."

"Where is it?" The machine prodded, "Our searches are bringing out no results. Even when amended to remove 'Valea' and add 'Kingdom'."

"On the planet Remnant, which… Which you won't find either, Geth, it's not a world you would know." She sighed and reached up, running her fingers through her messy, knotted hair and grimacing at the realization of her disastrous state. Armor scuffed and scratched where it hadn't been destroyed and, subsequently, repaired, hair matted and knotted in places with sweat, she looked to have crawled off a battlefield. "Not a bad comparison, actually…"

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, n-nothing, Geth. Merely… Thinking aloud." She waved him off, sliding down the slope of the hull and letting her head roll back to rest against it, eyes closed so she could enjoy the coolness. "I did tell you I would tell you my story, did I not? Back on… Eden Prime, was it?"

"Affirmative." She took the affirmation as an answer to both her questions and nodded.

"Well, I've quite a long story for you, then." And she certainly hoped that the machine would believe her. She didn't fancy seeing what would happen if it decided she was lying. Not out in space, where Oum knew what would happen to her if the machine decided to evict her. Opening her eyes and meeting its light, she began, "My planet is called, as I said previously, Remnant. On it, there are creatures known as the Creatures of Grimm…"

The explanation would take time but, she realized shortly into it, the machine wouldn't interrupt her. It simply stood, listening to her as she told it everything she could remember in detail enough to and thought relevant enough for her long, frankly tall, tale. As she went, she grew more confident, more comfortable, with her telling and went on faster and with a clearer voice. Not that, she was sure, the machine cared about any of it beyond the base facts she was handing it to process. Charisma and story craft didn't matter to a synthetic mind that had no care for the frills she added around the facts of her world, her life, and her death. The last of which, finally, prompted a reaction from Geth.

"You were terminated?" It asked, eye spinning slightly in its socket and flanging headplates expanded around its head in what she decided to be a shocked face. Throat dry and, distantly, stomach starting to ache she nodded, and the machine's flanking headplates twitched again. "Impossible. Humans can not be terminated and continue to exist afterwards without drastic cybernetic reconstruction. We detect none inside you."

"I also stopped a bullet, or several, and you said you didn't detect any…" Her lips pursed in confusion for a moment as she tried and failed to remember the name of the foreign element, "Of that-that element?"

"Element Zero. An element commonly used in biotics and shielding units of all sizes, as well as communication and armor technology." Its head twitched again and it added, "Our scans currently only show a micro-amount within your weapon. A sensor failure is therefore not likely to be why we do not detect any elsewhere on you."

"That, yes. Thank you, Geth." She nodded, wrapping her arms firmly around her legs and resting her chin on her knees between them, behind the armored pauldrons where the softer leather underpinnings were. "And as you said, only my sword has any of it. Meaning that my ability to protect myself is not due to it, whereas Aura can shield a well enough trained and aware human being from harm."

"Further, Auras can enable Semblances, as I told you before." Raising her shield as it had no Element Zero and would serve as the best proof, she pitched it across the short interior room. Then, fingers splayed and Aura flexing under her will, she recalled the shield and it soared right back through the air to her, landing on her arm and staying seemingly on its own accord. "My Semblance is named Polarity, and allows me to move any mental by touching it, suffusing my Aura into it. Scan away if you like."

"We have been doing so for several minutes. Your… Display consisted of no Element Zero based technology that we can detect." After a moment, its flanging headplates clicked open and then closed. "Very well. We acknowledge your claims as... Acceptable, regarding Semblances and Aura. How did you come to be alive after termination?"

"A… God revived me." The machine's head tilted to the side and Pyrrha sighed, nodding understandingly, "Yes, I know, it sounds… Insane to say. But I died, and the God of Darkness, Father of the Grimm, met with me and explained that he… Wanted me to amuse him."

"Gods exist?"

"Apparently, yes, though they do little in the world." The Dark Brother had refused, even, to help her team in exchange for her 'entertaining' him as he demanded. As much to that fact as to the machine's gaze, she shrugged unsurely, "I can't prove his existence to you, however. All he did was reforge my weapons and armor as needed, and drop me in your path on Eden Prime."

"It is illogical, but such would explain your sudden appearance. And falling from the sky." The machine whirred in thought, likely running through everything she'd said so far in the few seconds of quiet it took to do so. Finally, with muted clicks of its head emoting as it often did, the machine answered, "You have proven your claims of Aura and Semblance, we have observed you being shot and unphased by it, and we have learned of the organic concept of… Trust. Is this a moment where organics would… Offer trust?"

"Yes." Or, she would hope so, any way. She'd trusted Ozpin when he told her about Magic, for one fact, and so expecting others to trust the leap here didn't seem too outlandish. Even if they were all very much outlandish, insane claims. "I'm not asking you to believe in the Dark Brother, or anything, but… I am not lying about it any more than what you yourself say as proven to you."

"Acknowledged. We will offer our trust." The damaged machine turned without another word, moving to its seat at the front of the ship and taking it before speaking again. "We are headed to the Omega System to meet with a trader that the Geth have paid for supplies. They can take you elsewhere if you do not wish to stay with us."

The idea of going with a stranger in a strange land, or galaxy she supposed as 'land' had connotations that weren't applicable here, did not appeal to her very much. For relatively obvious reasons, really. And even if Geth was still a relative stranger, the machine seemed oddly… Innocent. Naive, almost, but not in the sense that it didn't know any better. Rather, it seemed new to trust, and people, in general. And something told her that trusting Geth now was the better option, even as fresh as the memories of the Atlesian machines was.

"Instinct or the God's influence…?" She murmured unsurely, grimacing at the total lack of surety she managed. She had no way of knowing, really, so she pushed the thought aside and raised her voice for the waiting machine to hear, "Should you be willing, Geth, I would… Prefer to stay with you. This galaxy is new to me, and I would rather be with someone I trust."

"You trust us?"

"You trusted me." She nodded, "In humans, organics I suppose as you said it, trust goes both ways. You trusted me even when my claims were somewhat irrational, and now I would do the same."

"...Acknowledged." The machine finally said, almost a full minute later and sounding oddly… Hopeful, if the machine's synthesized tones could even sound truly hopeful in any way that wasn't her own perceptions. "We will reach the Omega System in two hours, thirty one minutes and seventeen seconds. We apologize, but Geth do not need food or water, and so we have none."

"It's fine. You… Said we were going to get supplied, so I suppose that would be included?" Or she hoped, at least, since she kind of needed food and water to survive. "Also, I will… Need sleeping materials, and perhaps a change of clothes, and-"

"We are currently communicating with Geth to arrange supplies in whatever way is the most efficient." It interrupted, now managing to sound oddly exasperated. After a moment, it explained, "The only viable conclusion we have reached is to request a jannitory liquid receptacle at the supply point, and head for the Perseus Veil. A ship will be awaiting us with the needed facilities to house you."

"You are… Going to give me a toilet bucket to use?" She asked, the machine nodding slightly in an affirmative, apparently either uncaring for the discomfort of it or not understanding it enough to respond. Grimacing at the prospect, she sighed and did her best to resign herself to it. It was better than whatever ill fortune could possibly befall her in a galaxy she knew nothing about, she supposed. "How, er, how long will I be relegated to that?"

"One week." The machine answered quickly, "The specialized ship will complete production in two point four five standard Sols," the Mistralian assumed from context that meant days, "and we will arrive three point two nine days afterwards. Approximately one standard week."

"I see…"

"We… Apologize for the discomfort." So Geth did understand it, at least somewhat, then. "If this changes your mind we would take no offense and will instead-"

"It's… Fine." Not even remotely, but it would have to be. And she was a Huntress, for Oum's sake, she could deal with such a state for a few days surely. "I will survive, I assure you. There are, I am entirely sure, things out there I would not survive in any way, form or fashion. So I shall have to find a way to survive the sorrows of lacking a lavatory."

"We are not aware Humans require a lavatory to survive…"

"That… That was a joke, Geth." She sighed, chuckling under her breath when, a moment later, the machine gave a clipped 'Acknowledged' and went quiet. Finally, to break that, she asked, "I told you of my people, Geth. I would be very interested in hearing about you, or your own for that matter. And besides, there is little to do else aside from learn something about my traveling companion. Hm?"

"Very well." The machine answered, turning to look at her for a moment as though to gauge something she wasn't aware of. After a second it turned back to its console and began to speak. "We will start with the creation of the Geth species, as servitors to the Creator race, if you are so inclined."

"Yes, please. I look forward to learning." She enjoyed stories, and history as well, so she adjusted herself where she sat and began removing her heavier armor for comfort while the machine started to speak.

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The contact had been a Salarian, an amphibian race that was built lithely and stood a bit shorter than herself, who had eagerly accepted the payment for their supply request, but very much avoided talking to either of them about anything other than payment. A few times, she saw it - she was unsure of how to discern its gender gender and didn't ask - watching her like it wanted to say something. The alien never did, though

Sections of Geth's damaged armor plating around his legs, long since removed since they had left Eden Prime, along with a few Geth thermal cells and a segment of Geth wiring and a single ammunition block from Rannoch were handed over. In exchange the Salarian had allowed her and her machine to fill their need for ship fuel, which Geth's Geth ship, which was an ever frustrating way or referring to things, had been specially built to use for its mission. Then he'd offloaded three crates of military rations and water, that were lined up along the back of the craft and covered with a thin blanket for her to sleep in, and the alien was away. Without waiting for so much as a 'thank you', either.

Not to mention, of course, the yellow janitor's bucket at the foot of the 'bed' that she tried to ignore, though it was blessedly sealable so that none of the contents could bother her.

"You need a name." She finally observed, days later, dressed in armor that was getting to be uncomfortable now from now being cleaned and more than tired in a way she couldn't explain, laid on her back on her makeshift bed with her hands folded on her chest. The machine's metal flanges twitched in curiosity and she explained, "You said that your mission was to understand and learn to relate to organics, if possible."

"My mission is to gather knowledge on organic habits to engender understanding, as well as to watch against potential punitive assaults." Geth corrected calmly as it flew their shup, the young Mistralian humming her acknowledgement to the information. "Is there a reason you desire a specific designation for this unit?"

"For one, now I know your species is Geth too, that being your name also is kind of… Strange." Five days had passed by now, and she had more than learned that it wouldn't take offense at forward statements. In fact, as it had explained, it preferred them since it didn't understand things like humor properly yet, though it was 'studying Extranet materials' on the matter. "Besides that, Geth units having names would help people empathize with them. Empathy begets understanding, among people."

"A name would further the chances of peace and cooperation between Geth and organics?" And thus Geth survival, she knew without asking. When the machine looked at her, she nodded, and the machine turned back around. "Searching for potentially applicable names and forwarding the information you have suggested to the Geth collective. Do you have suggestions?"

"Try for religiously thematic ones." She offered, unsure of what else to offer. "At the least where I came from, names tied to traditions were respectable and common both. My name, for one, is a reference to a mythical general Pyrrhus, who fought against the bestial Grimm and won withering victories."

"And you believe this could assist the Geth in organic relations?"

"It could help, yes, and certainly couldn't hurt if nothing else." She shrugged, eyes closing while she relaxed boredly, completely starved for options on how to remedy that particular problem. "You asked for direction, after all, and at the least it's that. I'm sorry, but I can't think of anything else."

"We are Legion, for we are many." The machine finally intoned, turning to look at her again even though she knew it didn't need to. It did it for her entirely, knowing it made her marginally more comfortable to face her while they talked than to watch her using the small ship's interior sensors. "Christian Bible, book of Revelations. The reverence is to a spiritual being made up as a collective of other beings. The parallel is suiting, and the name seems simple enough for functional use. Nikos?"

"It works well enough, yes." It was simple, as the machine said, easily remembered, and made sense given what Geth, Legion, was now.

An amalgam of hundreds of thousands of individual entities reaching consensus about everything from firing a gun to, she knew now, bringing her with them all. To a further extent, she knew, the entire Geth species had agreed to help her get acclimated to this new galaxy. Even if they ostensibly benefited from it as well, and had made clear they did, she still felt humbled and honored to have an entire species deciding to help her. Whether, to them, it was a small investment or not didn't matter.

They were still doing it.

"Then we accept this designation." The machine spoke, turning to look at her once again, offering her a small nod of its fluorescent head. It's flaps twitching oddly and voice, colored by either its own or her perceptions, tinged by satisfaction, the machine reintroduced itself by its new name. "We are Legion, a terminal of the Geth. We will use this designation in future requiring circumstances."

The two fell into a comfortable silence after that, for a time. Before she began to get bored again, at least, sitting up on her bed and calling pieces of her armor to her to clean with a rag habitually. It didn't take long, of course, as she had neither worn it or gone into battle with it yet, so it started clean. So her excuse for busying herself quickly vanished, the armor returning into its ordered heap at the head of her bed. She wanted to work on her weapon, too, if only for something to do, but with the technology in it now she was unsure about whether that would be a wise idea. And destroying her weapon for ignorance was not something she was too interested in doing.

With a sigh, she unlaced her bodice and, naked from the waist up now beside her undershirt, bent over it with the rag and a bottle of water, setting to scrubbing where she could to at least try and help its sorry state. Hours she spent doing that with her various articles, putting them aside and removing the next piece on after another to work, redressing when they were dry to preserve what modesty she could. The machine never spoke of it or looked at her, for reasons she did not know beyond its lack of care for her showing skin and base understanding of human sensibilities. As well, of course, as occasionally opening or closing its work tables along the walls for her to use when its sensors let it note her needing it.

She would murmur a thank you, it would answer its acknowledgement, and they would move on until it happened again.

Her armor and clothing as cleaned as possible given the circumstances at hand, she would move on to exercises. A hundred push-ups, a hundred sit-ups, squats, and whatever else she could do in the confines of the fighters. Running, alas, was impossible, as was specialized weight training, but she got as much breathing exercises as she could by alternating holding her breath for as long as possible and speeding up her breathing, then forcing herself to slow it and her heartrate down again afterward, to drill a better control of it into herself as she'd been trained to.

This continued for the duration of their journey, the hours stretching on to feel impossibly long and her sense of time steadily breaking down. Unavoidable, given the situation, but something to suffer. And suffer it she did, in quiet and resigned dignity, befitting a Huntress she hoped.

Though she had given her life already, so she felt she'd earned the title more than well enough.

"We have arrived at our destination." It finally intoned in the midst of her exercises, the woman controlling herself enough to finish the sit-up before standing and giving the machine a hopeful look. Seeing it, the machine explained quietly, hands flicking out along its consoles rapidly and without pause the entire time. "In one minute, we will conclude docking measures with the light stealth corvette. Then we may embark, load our cargo, and while you settle in I will pilot the fighter to a planet the collective wishes investigated. Please, seal the crates and fold the blankets for efficient unloading."

"You do not wish for me to come with you?" She asked cautiously, sliding on her armor rapidly, as much with her Semblance drawing the plates to her form as with her hands tying the straps in place. Freshly armored, or as freshly as possible right now,she turned to the crates to set to work on cleaning up her mess and added, "I would not mind, you know. If you wished it."

"You require space and time to clean up from our travels thus far, according to my studies on Human physiological and psychological needs." The machine countered simpy, answering her simple question by, as always, laying out its entire thought process for her. She grimaced but nodded, knowing that in spite of being too busy to turn to her Legion would see it, and the machine went on further, "Also, our next destination is Omega Station. We will require your aid to accomplish our goals on Omega Station."

"Why?"

"Geth are hated by organics due to the Heretic's actions with the Old Machine, Sovereign. Omega Station is an organic one." It explained, the names only having the barest hint of context to her. Enough to understand its worry, at the least, and that was all she needed. Seeing her silence, it added in a quiet tone, "Until we make contact with the governing body, Aria T'Loak, our presence will not be safe on the station."

"Which would mean a battle."

"We do not wish to harm any organics." The machine affirmed, answering an unasked question. "And so, we would request that you meet with the governing body for us, and request permission for us to come aboard to trade."

"And if we are refused passage?" She asked, looking over her shoulder at the machine. It hesitated to answer, for a moment, and she called out, "Legion?"

"Then we will infiltrate the station to gather the information we require and depart." It finally answered, turning to look at her, flanged armor clicking and flaying in turn. A show of its anxiety, she was learning to understand. Or something akin to it, at least. "According to reports, we suspect an individual is on the station connected to Shepard, Commander. We wish to speak with them, if possible."

Another in a species' history of being hated and reviled for what they were, instead of who. Shameful, to say the least, and she would not turn away in a moment where she could show them another side of organics.

"If it is what you need, I will gladly repay your kindness with the favor." She just hoped it didn't come to a battle, in the end. With a curt nod, she clicked the lid closed on the crate and finished simply, "I'm all ready and packed, Legion. Dock whenever you wish to, and drop me off. I'll wait on your return, and we shall head to Omega."

"Acknowledged." The machine answered simply, a moment before their ship shuddered gently. Behind her, the ramp lowered, a long, metal tube surrounding her on all sides with a flat bottom and top. At the end, a blue field sparked gently, through which she could see a wide room that looked like the fighter's interior, but doubled in size. "Advisory warning : The docking tube has no gravitational field generation. Please be careful."

"Acknowledged." She called out, pushing the first, emptiest crate into the tube and watching it float freely. Sighing, she used her Semblance to propel it gently over the tube, setting it on the far end of the room she saw. The rest, as they say, was rinse and repeat, which brought a question to mind. "Legion did, er, you build a bathing room on this ship?"

"We did."

"Oh. I see, well… That is wonderful." She blinked, feeling excitement well up inside herself as she set to work faster than before.

A hot shower was calling her name, and a Mistralian always answered when called.

The ship itself was a simple affair, as per what she supposed was typical of Geth standards, and looked much like the beetle-like fighter had, except longer and stockier. A single moderately small storage room at the back, now a third full with her crates, weaponry and armor, and a single hall that divided the forward section of the ship. The majority of which was dedicated to her, with a moderately large bathroom on one side of the hall and her bathroom on the other, the hallway dividing the ship cleanly from front to back.

The bathroom itself was simple but nice enough, with a steel toilet and shower set on the exterior wall and a washing basin set against the other, a water tank dominating the front right corner of the bathing room. Easily twice the size of her tub, likely because, if she had to hazard a guess, Legion itself didn't need any water. So the water systems had only been installed for her. Against the interior wall, between it and the sink, were two small, blue box-like things that she realized a moment later were for her clothes. They were a third the size of normal clothing, of course, but given how little she had to wear, and the few towels she had, it made sense to have them be small.

On the other side of the bisecting hall was an equally acceptably sized bedroom, which given her rather unfortunate conditions until now was an extravagance she could appreciate.

The bedroom was an equally simple affair, with a large bed made of synthetic feeling fibers, set onto a metal frame on the ground. By the door was a metal wardrobe, and in the corner an obviously metal set of shelves. Against the far wall, either letting out into space itself or set against the piloting structures she wasn't sure, a set of weights had been neatly stacked for her. Between the dresser and shelves was a wonderfully stocked work table, presumably for her to maintain her equipment and clothing, which was something to thank Legion for later. Gone were the days of a rag, oil and water to clean her armor and shield,

Through a heavy door at the back of the storage room, across from the docking doors, was a wide and short room full of mechanical contraptions she didn't understand. At the back, the storage compartment, and at the front was the piloting compartment. Though they looked like engines and piloting tools, but she knew she'd never be able to tell for certain so she put her simply moved on, heading to her new bathroom to strip and, finally, clean herself properly.

And then, some real exercise and armor maintenance.

"Oh gods…" She murmured, watching steam rise from the water filling the tub with wide, eager eyes. Dipping a hand into it she sighed, smiling, "Oh, hot water… How I have missed you."

Soaking in the tub of hot water and, finally, able to relax she let her eyes close and wondered, for a moment, how her friends were doing… Were they alive? Had her sacrifice meant anything, done anything, been for something? She'd given her life to buy them time, to let them escape, but had they? Lost in those thoughts and feeling her emotions well up, she hugged herself and turned on her side in the hot water, eyes pinched closed against the fear and pain she'd felt. Felt and kept down, until now, under the surface and under control while another was around.

Now, though?

Now she was alone, truly and surely alone in a way that broke her heart to realize, without her team or her friends to comfort her. And she felt it all well up inside herself for the first time, like a tidal wave demanding to break. And break it did, as the woman let out a keening, low cry and began to weep in her hot, soothing bath. Hugging herself in the hot water, she finally let herself break down, unable to continue resisting it any longer. She needed it, she knew, and would deal with the pain and ache in her breast before Legion returned.

She wouldn't burden the machine with her problems further, and it would need her when it got back. Need her in fighting shape, further. That need, at least, assuaged her aching loneliness and grief with purpose. Purpose she focused on as she let herself break, using it to anchor herself and fight through it.

An hour later, she was done and, sitting in now cold water, she grabbed the rag she'd brought with her and began to scrub every inch of herself clean.

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ThermalsniperN7 :

Kinda what I was thinking. Also, the battle before the dying part. I'd be burnt out and exhausted, to say the very least, after so much shite.

Mafi 99 :

Between ME1 and ME2 is when this takes place, closer to ME2 than 1.

Janed 12000 :

Aside from the Heretic Geth who stood with the Reapers in ME1, the Geth, by and large, just want to be left to live their lives. They are curious about Organics and would enjoy relations with them, but see no way to do it and, instead, pursue their own future and wish to live to see it.

York 52 :

She will be, yes. Just give it time to get up and moving.

That One Random Dude :

Characters, likely not, at least beyond potential visits and interactions with the Brothers, Light or Dark either way. As for her and Shepard? Yeah, that's kind of how I intend the whole thing to go down.

Hard to not believe in people coming back from the dead with Zombie Commando over here taking shots, eh?

Dekuton :

Geth ships are shown in myriad occasions to have atmospheres, as many electronics are more easily produced that function better in it. Those that don't would, ostensibly, vent atmosphere once in space if they felt it necessary. With an organic aboard, simply not doing so would be simple enough.

As for Legion helping Pyrrha, it's as simple as 'You would be harmed for helping me and I don't like that'.