She sat in the office the entire day of voting after casting her vote alongside Cal Vornic and Henry Lawson. She voted for herself after much reflection and consideration to her own self-doubt.
She understood and accepted that she needed to work on her own flaws. That she wasn't perfect. That she needed approval time to time was perfectly normal. That losing one's home traumatically multiple times altered how she interacted with the world and how much she relied on static, rigid expectations for optimal emotional support.
If she didn't try, she wasn't putting an effort forth and Havi would have her head. Worse, Lenaye would throw it back at her as a sign of her incompetency. Mycerra Colton was not incompetent. She was damaged, traumatized, spiritually tired, but she was not incompetent.
Tia's play corner, farthest from the door, occupied her focus throughout the day. She emailed people back and forth to distract herself, mindful of the delivery delay. The news delivered to her by the Lystheni salarian journalist concerned her. For someone like Yvynn Baelin, Omega's troubles likely amounted to everyday bullshit. Tabitha and Diyal avoided the polling area to not inspire rumors about voting pressures, manipulation etcetera. She resorted to partaking in a light alcoholic drink to ease the anxiety.
"Not a healthy approach." La'Quoia Schidmt stopped by mid-drink. "Should I recommend AA counseling early?"
Mycerra snorted. "Well past that point, La'Quoia. If I wanted to become an alcoholic, Omega would have driven me to it already. Did you vote yet?"
"I did."
"Good. Everyone's voice should be heard." Mycerra sipped the low alcohol content drink. "Too many people that complain about not being noticed and heard and not enough people casting their vote so that they are noticed and heard."
"Pre-reaper voting will likely be the same as post-reaper voting, Mycerra." The medic stepped into the room and knelt in front of Tia's play area. The infant studied her curiously. "Is it me or does your daughter seem different than her human counterpart at this age?"
Mycerra counted the months since she left Omega. They were at the tail end of three months now. March marked the end of three months, and Mycerra didn't know what to do with herself.
"She's a fast learner." Mycerra agreed. "She's a thumb sucker. I'll have to break that habit somehow."
"Positive reinforcement." La'Quoia instructed kindly. "Not hot sauce or pepper."
"There is no hot sauce in this place, La'Quoia."
"Regardless." La'Quoia clucked.
Tia lifted her head and tried to push herself up on her hands and knees. Her arms wobbled and she gave up. Her head and gave fixed on La'Quoia.
"An intense gaze."
"Almost turian." Mycerra remarked wryly. "She's an intense child."
"You are an intense person."
"I hope she has a better life than me then." Mycerra said absentmindedly into her drink. She checked the time again. "Know any other therapists other than Mr. Opponteim and Ms. Nandez? I'm not…vibing with them."
"In Haven 1, no." La'Quoia delivered the bad news. "You could search outward into the other settlements."
Mycerra shook her head. "Don't trust any of them. Hippocratic oath aside, too much is on the line, and I can't trust that information to not be sold." She finished her drink and wished for anything except the anxiety eating at her.
"You can talk to me if you'd like." La'Quoia volunteered innocently.
Mycerra considered it. "I don't want to burde- "
"If you win the election, you have to take care of yourself too."
The short lecture died between them.
"I'll think about it." Mycerra lied.
La'Quoia weighed something mentally, then let it drop. "I'm pleased to hear that'll be your only alcoholic drink today." Mycerra offered the bottle to her. "I'll recycle this for you." Mycerra thanked her and sat in the tomblike silence punctured by Tia or a sound outside the office at random intervals.
The counting of votes consumed the following two days. Mycerra resumed business as usual and prodded others to do the same until the final vote tallied. The tension lingered over Haven 1 and created an impasse for the most obstinate. She feigned ignorance and worked around the people. A settlement needed leadership regardless of the fluid status of election results.
Tia's easy-going nature and happiness countered that of Cal Vornic's followers. The Ladies of Supreme Justice teamed up with Diyal Bakshi for the Pennsylvania governor position. Mycerra hoped Diyal won the position, although she suffered no illusions of him holding the favorable public opinion beyond Haven 1. Unwilling to think about losing the election, she contacted Haestrom full of congratulatory energy.
"Colton." A tired Haestrom answered.
She motioned for Hans to clean up the background sounds. He tweaked a few controls and the background sounds cleared up significantly. Alliance members argued among themselves in barely audible whispers. "Haestrom. I wanted to congratulate you on the victory- "
"A premature well-wishing, but I thank you all the same."
Her stomach sank. "Don't tell me the Alliance is kicking you out of your post."
"It was never my post to start with. We both know that." He whispered. She imagined him dragging his hand across his bald head. "The voting is excessively close. The Alliance voted in arms with their officer of choice, Captain Winifred Brown, and the civilians voted for me. The population numbers are even at Haven 2." He explained in total exhaustion. "We'll need a recount."
She wished she could reach through the radio and hug him.
"I see the numbers on your end are favorable. You're in a tight run with Henry Lawson."
She covered her face and cradled Tia closer to her chest. The child pressed her hands into Mycerra's chest and smiled. She chose to not chide Haestrom for ruining the surprise for her. "Well, I wouldn't perch too high on either outcome until it's all counted. No doubt Cal Vornic will demand a recount."
Haestrom inhaled sharply. "We're in the same situation."
Hans put his arm around her shoulder supportively.
"Did you finish the jerky yet?" She switched subjects, forcibly injecting cheer into her voice.
"I need to know who your supplier is." He said seriously.
She laughed. "I believe he's on a colony with his son at this moment. I hope he is, anyway."
"You should give me his contact information so I can arrange regular shipments."
"I'll pass along the word to him. And hope he's interested in your offer." She rubbed circles into Tia's back. "His name is Hadar Voldek. He's a batarian. A gruff man, but not the worst. Batarians are polarizing. They saved me a sky car crash that could have killed me. The rest are…slavers, pirates, raiders. Mercs. The sort you meet with a loaded shotgun and finger on the trigger. The vorcha though, I hate them through and through. There's nothing good about them. They're like fleas and ticks."
"Fleas and ticks have a purpose."
"Vorcha don't." She mused. "I had a drink with Lawson. Knows how to talk. Regulations are his specialty. Went on and on about them. Mentioned that I'd need to become more knowledgeable if I expected to become a proper politician."
Haestrom chortled.
"Come to think of it, Lawson is a bit like a vorcha." She mused viciously.
Hans squeezed her shoulder and pulled his arm back to his side. "Remember anyone can listen in on the channel. It's public." He whispered.
She nodded, cleared her throat. "Haestrom, I need to tend to duties, but good luck. Bon chance."
"Et toi."
Hans cut the comms off. "Picking up a bit of French?" He teased.
"I had free time on Omega." She brushed the critique off. "The asari have this way of absorbing languages into their language, spoken and written, that made me appreciate the different languages of our world. I thought if I learned a few phrases, it might cheer up him up. He tries hard and he is thoroughly disrespected at Haven 2."
"You're with the Alliance or you're against the Alliance." Hans summed up. "Rarely a neutral zone."
She sighed. "I respect that they threw down the gauntlets and fought for us, and that's to be expected, but what I don't like is the elitism of it. Just because you wear a uniform it doesn't mean you're better. That's how they act. Not all of them, but a lot of them. Especially the officers. Like they're a gift from the stars themselves."
"I wouldn't say a lot of them act that way. A small percentage certainly do." Hans conceded.
Tia made sounds to break up the tension.
Mycerra smiled at Hans, choosing to drop it entirely. "There's a point we should try to better ourselves, yes? Maybe I should let bygones be bygones and live better. Be better. If not for myself, then for Tia and Amani. Whether I like it or not, we're living on the goodwill of the Alliance and the Citadel Council. Without them, we'd have starved and in civil war over resources. It's the one person that ruins the entire privilege, the reputation, etcetera."
Hans leaned back in his chair. "The high road is the hardest to take."
"Isn't there a bottle of 'Hard to Swallow' pills somewhere around here?" She shot back.
"Mayor looks good on you."
"If I become Mayor, you're the first person I'm thanking." She threatened.
He saluted. "To being our better selves for the goodwill of all."
She waited until the following afternoon before they announced the results. Eating breakfast at the Memorial Wall with Tia, she tried to avoid people. Someone inevitably found her.
Their loud footsteps alerted her to their presence.
"Leader Colton?" A young voice asked.
She held up her hand and motioned them forward. Her eyes focused on the silver plaque of names. They upgraded the wall since she left and for the better. She missed the old wall with its tags and name cards.
"Leader Colton, the Alliance confirmed the vote."
She looked up from her tray of food and spotted the tween boy. "Who sent you?" She asked pleasantly.
The boy quickly bowed. "Mr. Deltano, Ma-am."
She motioned for him to sit on the blanket with her and Tia. He hesitantly joined her. "I don't recognize you. When did you migrate to Haven 1?" She asked.
He eyed up her bacon. She slid the tray toward him.
"Four months ago." He answered obligingly.
"You deliver messages for Mr. Deltano only?"
"Yes, Ma-am."
She put her arm around his shoulder. "I'll check my omni tool for the answer while you finish the bacon." She smiled, the excessive mothering feeling swelled within, and she embraced it. Be better, live better.
736 votes. 736 votes for Mycerra Colton. 681 votes for Henry Lawson. 583 votes for Cal Vornic.
"You won." The boy said naively.
"There will be a recount." She informed him dutifully. "It's never simple."
He smiled toothily at her. "The count was honest and fair. Mr. Deltano promised it would be."
She pat his head. Oh, the naivety and innocence. Someone tried to rig the election one way or another. She was damned certain of it. Probably foiled by all the countermeasures as well.
Tia stubbornly tried to pop up on her knees and hands, fussing when she couldn't. She held her head up perfectly. Too soon, Mycerra realized, their daughter would crawl, walk, and then run – all before Amani left Omega.
Her omni tool pinged. She opened the comms. "Yes, Titus?"
"Mikal find you?" Titus cut to the point.
The boy flashed her a thumbs up and swallowed the last bite of bacon.
"Mikal is safe and sound at my side." She replied.
"Good. I assume you're aware of the good news?"
"When does the recount start?" She demanded.
Titus filled her in on the details about the recount as briskly as possible before telling her to send Mikal back to the office if she doesn't need his messenger services. Mikal already climbed to his feet and saluted her. She cocked her head curiously at the boy, noting his sharp salute and straight posture. She smiled sweetly.
"Ma-am."
"Carry on, Messenger, carry on." She returned the salute.
He leaned in to correct the sloppy salute. "Yes, Ma-am."
She made a note to compliment Titus on his training of the boy. She looked up at the plaque and prayed for the dead to find peace, then for the living to find their way forward to success and happiness. When she lifted her head, the weight on her soul eased.
She passed the next several days in a haze of wanting to be the victor of the election and hoping Henry Lawson won. She tried to explain the adversity to what she convinced herself to yearn for, strive for, and place excessive effort into achieving it. She failed to explain it and drowned in the confusion of it all. Mycerra vaguely remembered answering reports, working out in the gym at lunch time, and trimming time off the schedule to spend with Tia. She hesitated to call Amani and contact Nihlus and Pacyra.
Her email exploded. Everyone held opinions.
She cringed away from the intense anger, concern, and support. She dreaded talking to anyone she truly wanted to hear from – Bohai, Calun Dravis, Pacyra, Javik, Haestrom – to name a few.
So, she procrastinated from the insanely easy task of opening her email and reading it one by one. Titus and Aurellian offered their time and energy in diverting her focus onto matters she was legally permitted to. Haestrom joined her in recount limbo.
They commiserated over drinks at the Haven 1's newest bar and hottest attraction for anyone with credits and free time. The low-quality swill served the purpose of bringing people together in trying times.
They comically mismatched on adjacent bar stools.
The athletically thin brunette. The tall, thin balding man. Stress created dark bags under their eyes. He held out his cup to hers. She tapped hers against his. "To being used by the Alliance."
"To finding an ally in the chaos." She toasted.
He nursed the drink. "Your daughter is a handful these days?"
"I swear the bigger she gets, the more she moves. Determined little girl. Trying to crawl. Gets mad when she can't." She laughed. "She looks so much like her mother. I barely see any of me in her."
"She inherited her determination from you." Haestrom pointed out as so many others already had. "There are people in this world who are meant for greatness and then there are people who forge their own definition of it. You were not meant for greatness. You created your definition."
"What does that make you?" She shot back awkwardly.
He leaned in and lowered his voice. "A temporary stand-in until they found someone more suitable for their purposes. I won't go down without drawing blood first. The quarians refused to work with the Alliance. Met a few xenophobic officers before they wandered into our group at Haven 2."
"Wait, wait- "She imbibed half the drink. "You – you convinced the quarians to work with you?"
"I am offended." Haestrom lied.
"No, no. I didn't mean it that way. I mean. How did you do it?" She whispered. "How did you get some of the clammiest people to work with you? And trust you?"
He finished his drink and ordered another.
He bespelled her with a tale of offering kindness on a trust but verify basis, building that pedestal act by act until it accumulated into undeniable respect. She polished off two more drinks, half in the drink and well past the point of self-restraint.
"You wouldn't believe it, Haestrom- "She giggled. "There I was. In the middle of Afterlife. The shittiest bar on the shittiest station in the middle of shittiest space. I had my bubble up. Had this banged up bouncer in there chilling with me. We're making drinks, watching the bar practically tear itself apart. And then he tells this awful turian racist joke. Are you ready for it?"
Haestrom manspread on the stool and motioned her to continue talking.
"What does a turian do when his rifle runs out of thermal clips?" She asked.
He shrugged.
"They pull the stick out of their ass and use it as a backup." She said.
He snorted. "Fits."
"Want to hear another racist joke?"
"Do they tell any jokes about humans?" He asked drunkenly.
She laughed, her head spinning. The room moved in ways it shouldn't. "Who would win in a fight? A turian fleet or Admiral Hackett and the Normandy-SR2?"
"Easy. Admiral Hackett and the Normandy-SR2."
The bartender stood in front of them, ominously staring over their shoulder. They didn't notice.
Titus Deltano held a thick finger to his lips.
Haestrom tapped his chest with his fist and sat up straight. "I have one for you. Why does a quarian seek when they should settle?"
She leaned back into a carapace and froze. Titus placed his hands on her shoulder. "I am sure the punchline is amusing." Titus announced dryly. His talons tapped against her shoulder in warning. "You're both drunk. You should sleep it off and we'll worry about the vids tomorrow."
"Vids?" Mycerra asked in confusion. "Everyone's just enjoying their drinks."
Titus leaned over, his head positioned between Haestrom and herself. "Are you so certain no one has recorded you telling spacist jokes?" He challenged.
Drunk Mycerra brushed it off.
Titus insisted he'd pay the tab tomorrow and helped Mycerra and Haestrom out of the bar. Titus settled Haestrom at a guest quarter in Building D and walked Mycerra to her quarters. He lectured her about childcare and over relying on people around her. When he left her alone with the promise she'd see Tia at breakfast, Mycerra sunk into the depths of the scolding and asked herself if she truly deserved Tia and Amani. If she deserved the opportunities at her front door.
She slid into unconsciousness willingly.
The following morning, the extranet lit up at Haven 1 and 2. Haestrom lost. Mycerra won. A young man of idealistic views posted a snippet of the drunk pair and remarked how drunks couldn't be trusted to run a settlement. The hate and support flooded his comment hundreds of reposts later. Aurellian showed her the post at breakfast.
"Welcome to politics. Where you can't be a real person." He congratulated her sardonically.
She read through the reposting and tags. "It wasn't that bad of a joke. I've heard turians tell it a hundred times. A turian told it to me." She grumbled.
"That joke is as old as our species." Aurellian agreed. "Mayor Colton's first scandal. Only hours into the position and you've split the online audience."
She glared at him. "Where is Titus by the way?"
Tia made a mess of her breakfast, all smiles as she did so. Mycerra tightened the belt in the highchair out of paranoia.
Aurellian poked at his dextro eggs. "Probably helping Haestrom figure out the next steps."
"Losing by fifty-four votes must sting." Mycerra sympathized.
"I can understand why the people of Haven 2 want the Alliance to control less of their free time and personal spaces. In my opinion, they should make Haven 2 a base and remove all civilians from it." He said freely. "My personal opinion. In case anyone's recording."
She snorted. "Throwing in disclaimers now?" She poked.
He shrugged. "My father raging against you is one less day he's disappointed in me." He announced seriously.
She reached for his hand and held it. "There is no reason he should be disappointed in you. You're a great son."
"Haven't you heard yet?" Aurellian threw back. "Turians don't know what approval is unless someone is sacrificing their life. Disappointment is a perpetual expectation for us."
Tia flung a mashed egg at Aurellian and nailed him on the mouth plate. Mycerra picked it off with a small smile. Tia giggled.
"All the more reason I enjoy humans. Approval is easier to earn." He admitted.
She allowed the silence to envelope them. She scrolled through repostings and comments on both ends of the spectrum. Aurellian helped her clean Tia up and wipe down the highchair. "Sorry about forgetting about Tia and getting drunk. Sometimes I forget – take advantage of the support offered to me and I shouldn't. I'll try to not let that happen again." She promised the turian.
Aurellian placed Tia in her arms. "I understand. Comrades under pressure empathizing with each other. Every turian has been there. Especially during the Reaper War."
"It shouldn't have happened. It won't happen again." She vowed.
He pat her head. "I know."
"Any ideas on how to apologize to Titus?" She pleaded.
He laughed. "Time and self-improvement."
She burst out into similar derisive laughter. "Quote, unquote."
"He'll get over it." Aurellian whispered. "Give it time."
They parted ways. Mikal intercepted Mycerra on her way to the office to show her to the upgraded office. They traveled past Building B1 to Building B2. Climbing the steps to the third-floor office, she entered an exact replica of Haestrom's office at Haven 2. Double taking at the uncomfortable identical furniture and equipment, she froze.
Mikal left her to the unsettling contemplation.
She chose this new direction for herself. She made a choice to live in a place that is safe for herself and her family. She allowed herself to believe in something bigger than herself. She allowed herself to believe.
The revelation warmed her.
She smiled down at Tia. "Starting to feel like home, Tia. Think Mama will like it too?" She whispered.
Tia oohed and ahhed. Mycerra smiled and twirled in the open space between the opposite cubicle walls. She stopped short of the desk and lifted Tia into the air. Tia's view through the wall-to-wall window overlooking Haven 1 amused the baby long enough for Mycerra to process her complex emotions.
She lowered Tia back against her chest and kissed her forehead. "You're a shade darker than your Mama. And you'll be as big of a heartbreaker as she is." She teased the baby to distract herself.
Ideas crept in on how to fill the shelves. Inspiration struck.
Her armor, weapons, spare thermal clips, ammo blocks, and spare weapon parts now found a new home. She called Titus. It rang three times before he picked up. "I know you're mad about the getting drunk and embarrassing myself thing, but I was hoping you could help me decorate my new office. You can even lecture me, and I'll remember most of it." She offered.
Titus shifted the camera view to include Haestrom.
"Heard you needed an assistant since Wei Bohai retired to bigger adventures." Haestrom offered, clothed in a different outfit, and drinking a glass of water.
Her brow lifted. "Who am I to refuse the expert help of Edwin Haestrom?" She countered cheerfully. "Although we'll have to clean out your office at Haven 2 and arrange new living quarters at Haven 1."
"We'll help you move in." Titus announced with subtle irritation.
She wondered if he was madder at her or Haestrom. The childishness of the stray thought amused her.
"You should start drafting a post addressing the situation. Try to sound repentant." Titus ordered and ended the call.
Shaking off the minor irritation, she tried to make herself comfortable behind the desk. The half back chair dug into her back. She turned on the computer console and logged in one handed. Tia's fingerprints fogged up the metal desk surface. Mycerra opened a text document.
It is my deepest regret I have to type this bullshit. It's not fair I can't be a normal person, have a few drinks, and feel normal.
I am aware that drinking is frowned upon by the more conservative circles.
Tia slapped the desktop.
"I know. This is ridiculous too." She commiserated with Tia. "If it makes Titus happy…"
She delved into the apology she didn't want to write, deleting everything she typed. Haestrom and Titus arrived after she settled Tia on the floor with a blanket and toys surrounding her in a circle. Haestrom spread his arms wide and grinned.
Mycerra held up a finger. "Nothing sounds right, and I refuse to apologize for being a normal person." She looked over the top of the computer screen and right at Titus. "I am sorry for taking advantage of the childcare conveniences afforded to me. That I was wrong for."
His mouth plates worked back and forth. "You're awful at apologies."
She shrugged. "I'm not going to beg on hands and knees. Either you forgive me, or you don't." She resumed typing and aggressively tapped the backspace button.
"Why are humans difficult?"
"Because we are." She countered. "Haestrom, if you're serious about staying, Diyal Bakshi is about to start his campaign tour for governor. If he makes it past the primaries, I'll need a replacement that much longer."
Haestrom glanced between Mycerra and Titus before opting out entirely from that conversation and picking up Tia.
Titus closed the space between the desk and himself. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned over aggressively. "Do you have any idea how damaging- "
"Titus." She held up a hand. "I am aware I should not have taken advantage of people's goodwill. I suppose…it felt good, and I forgot there are limits that need respected. That's on me. But me having a few drinks to blow off steam about the political storm surrounding me, with a comrade – it's not a crime."
"It's damaging." Titus seethed. "You have a reputation to protect now."
She stood up to match his height best she could. "I. Know. That."
"Then next time, you don't drink publicly."
Seconds passed without either speaking.
"Next time- "
"I won't drink in public. I'll close the office curtains and drink here." She compromised. "It was one slip up. One."
He pointed and heaved, then shook his head.
She tallied everything in her favor and reminded herself to stay happy. Enjoy the good things. Don't let the rainstorm ruin a good mood. She forced a smile. "Can we move past this? Please?" She pressed her hands together in a prayer gesture.
He pointed at the computer console. "Keep writing."
She hovered her fingers over the keyboard defiantly. So, this was the turian fury she heard so much about. If her parents, Hobalt's, and the reapers haven't brow beat her into a shadow, she refused to let him succeed where they failed.
"I'll dictate. You type. We'll edit it to fit your voice after." Titus ordered.
She nodded to Haestrom. "Link up with whoever you need to start the transfer process. I'll alert Diyal that you're in need of training to take over for him."
Haestrom placed Tia back on her blanket and left the bickering pair to their unwilling cooperation.