A/N: First up, I am really sorry about the wait between the last chapter and this one. This year has been more than a little hectic so far and looks like it will continue to be so going forward. As a result, there will be periods where I update more frequently and ones where the wait between chapters is greater.

As a side note, everyone has probably noticed by this point that I use the English spellings of words, not the American ones. No one has complained yet, but I just thought I'd mention it now, since there are quite a few of these in this chapter.

Reviews:

AnarionRising27: "Everything that has transpired has done so according to my design." - The Emperor, Return of the Jedi. The pieces are moving so to speak. Stick around to find out where all of these elements lead...

seabo76: Glad to hear that you're on board so far. It's also great that you like Kasumi, since I feel personally that due to the limitations of Stolen Memory (both in terms of it being DLC you have to pay for and it not including proper dialogue scenes bar the loyalty mission) and her very limited role in ME3, not a lot of attention has been given to the character by fans. I just hope that I can get her right, given that I don't have as much to go on as I would in the case of Tali/Liara/Garrus etc.

Chapter 5: Purpose

Shaela breathed in slowly before gently exhaling. She knew what she wanted to say, but finding the right words to express herself, to allow her family to understand was proving challenging. She couldn't tell them everything; she doubted they would let her go if they knew that there was even the slightest hint she could be barrelling headfirst into danger. She had to provide a persuasive argument though, the only difficulty of course being that she had to touch on what had become a rather taboo subject once she had returned to the Migrant Fleet two years ago.

Her Pilgrimage.

It wasn't that she hadn't completed it. Plenty of other quarians had still been out there, attempting to find an acceptable gift to present to a captain, when the call for them to return had been sent out. It wasn't even that she had spent so long unable to find a gift even before that. No, it was how she had been once she had returned.

She had made it abundantly clear upon being reunited with her family that she didn't want to talk about what had happened. Her parents and sister had of course tried to get her to open up, but Shaela hadn't budged. Just thinking about Rassen's disappearance in the months after it had occurred had caused ice to fill her lungs and resulted in her breaking down in floods of tears. He wasn't dead, but she couldn't see him. That was the worst thing about the situation; the knowledge that he was still out there but she might never see him again.

The war with the geth and then Reapers had, ironically, caused her attitude to improve. There had always been work to do on the Kilal of course, but with the casualties incurred in the fighting, she had thrown herself into helping as many people as possible. As the months had continued to drag on, the pain had shrunk to a dull ache in her chest when she thought about Rassen. She hadn't forgotten him, but she managed to keep moving forward. Throughout it all though, she had steadfastly continued to refuse to speak about what had occurred during her Pilgrimage. Her family had eventually stopped trying to get her to open up, accepting that she would talk about it in her own time.

Which of course brought her to the current situation.

Shaela was currently sitting at the head of what passed for a dining table, if a slab of metal bulkhead with four empty supply crates serving as legs and another four functioning as chairs could be considered a proper place to eat. Rissel sat next to her on the right, while her father sat directly across from her at the other end. Both were staring at her silently, desperate to understand. Her sister's eyes, wide behind her light-green visor, her father's equally worried, but also angry behind his dull-yellow one. Not at her though, Shaela couldn't remember the last time her father had been angry at her. No, he was angry at whatever had caused her to freeze whenever her Pilgrimage was brought up.

The three of them had been sitting, practically unmoving for the best part of three hours. It was nearly completely dark outside now, though lights from the makeshift houses that surrounded their own did illuminate the area around the town a small amount. It had been immediately after her realisation that she had marched toward their home, Rissel following in confusion, asking repeatedly how she had managed to levitate the rock. Shaela had then on a whim gone back and picked up the object, which now rested in front of her on the table. She had then announced to the two of them that they needed to talk about her Pilgrimage as soon as her mother got home.

So they had begun waiting.

Her father had wanted Shaela to come home slightly earlier than normal because of… something. Shaela did feel slightly guilty at not remembering what that something was, aside of course from the fact that it had probably been important. What she did remember was that her mother was working late, something about helping a friend with an algorithm for automated farming equipment. The quarians were rebuilding a society, and societies even at their most basic required food. With it being such a pressing concern, many agricultural worlds having been hit by the Reapers, her mother had decided to do what she could to help, given that she had grown up on one of the liveships which had provided the Migrant Fleet with food.

The sound of footsteps outside caused the first real movement from the three quarians since they had first sat at the table. Shaela swallowed heavily. The footsteps were getting louder and louder as the owner drew closer. She had spent enough of her childhood running from her mother and hiding from her while giggling uncontrollably to recognise the sound of her approaching. She took a deep breath to steady herself. It wasn't going to be easy to talk about this, but she needed to.

The door to the house opened, the weak light from outside filtering in before Shaela's mother entered, the light catching the grey decorations of her environment suit. She didn't notice them at first, closing the door behind her gently. No one in the effective shanty town they lived in had automatic doors. It was like they were living centuries in the past, when their ancestors had needed to push or pull doors and had walked in the open without the need for environment suits. Shaela straightened where she sat as her mother noticed the gathering and then approached, head tilted in curiosity.

Shaela watched as her eyes moved to her father, then sister, before finally settling on her before she spoke up, voice nervous but determined.

"Mum? Please sit down. We need to talk about my Pilgrimage."

Silence followed her declaration. Shaela swallowed again as her mother nodded slowly before proceeding to the only available crate, seating herself to her left. The quarian glanced at her assembled family, still not entirely sure how to begin. Part of her had wanted to immediately head to one of Rannoch's makeshift spaceports and get her hands on a ship, but she had been stopped by two things. Firstly, no sane captain would allow their ship to be borrowed at her request on the basis that she 'felt' the presence of another person and believed they were in trouble with no real evidence to support it. Secondly, her family deserved to hear from her why she had decided to leave. Rannoch was still very much in the early stages of being rendered viable and there were still large numbers of wounded. Shaela had every intention of returning once she had found Rassen, but what if she was needed in the meantime? That was an issue that had to be resolved. Matriarch Wessa would need to find someone to take her place at the hospital while she was gone.

Clearing her throat, Shaela decided to get straight to the point. "Someone I met during my Pilgrimage is in trouble," she began, noting with irritation that one of her knees had started bouncing beneath the table as a result of the nervous excitement she felt. "I have to leave Rannoch for a while to go and help him."

Everyone in front of her reacted differently. Rissel went very still, her usual boundless energy seemingly evaporating into thin air. Her mother folded her arms, concerned but also disapproving. Her father though… he was the hardest to read, as he laced his fingers together and leaned forward, elbows resting on the table in front of him.

"I know that we need as many people here as possible," Shaela continued, "so I know I'll have to go alone. I can't completely explain how I know he needs my help or even how I know where to go. I doubt you'd believe me."

Rissel cut in. "What do you mean?" The youngest member of her family asked in concern. "Of course we'd believe you, Shaela. Why wouldn't we?"

"Because… because I can sense that he needs my help." Shaela winced as silence reigned once more. This time the reactions were more alike, the tiny gestures of body language that quarians learned to pick up from a young age indicating that her family had no idea what to make of her statement.

"Shaela," her mother began gently, slowly reaching out to rest one of her hands upon her daughter's as she did so. "What do you mean by sense?"

There's no going back now. They deserve to know anyway.

"When I left the Fleet to begin my Pilgrimage… I chose Omega as my destination."

"What?"

The response was nearly silent, but carried with it a boiling undercurrent of anger. Shaela turned her eyes from her mother to face her father. "I know now that it was stupid, Dad. But I heard that it was much more difficult to find something special from more popular places like the Citadel or large colonies, so I thought-"

"That you would try to get yourself killed."

"Jaral! That is enough!"

Shaela's mother's voice was firm, but every bit as angry as her father's. The difference was it was aimed at him and not her daughter.

"I agree with you that Omega was a foolish place for her to choose. However, that was well over two years ago, closer to three in fact. We already guessed that Shaela had gone somewhere horrible, but losing your temper with her now just when she's begun to open up about it won't help anything." Her mother turned back to her, squeezing her hand gently. "Go on, Shaela," she quietly prompted. "You decided to go to Omega, what happened next?"

Shaela shook herself out of her shock. Her parents had never argued like that in front of her before. Never. She was surprised by just how much it had shaken her. "I spent a few months on the station seeing if I could find anything. I hoped that I might be able to find someone with medical supplies, or a new kind of treatment compatible with our biology." She glanced over at her father, who had calmed a little but was still visibly angry at the knowledge that one of his daughters had gone to Omega. "One day though, a group of batarians began following me. I don't know why, only that I couldn't lose them."

Shaela steeled herself as she recalled the sound of the batarians' voices as they had closed in on her, despite her best efforts to get away. "One of them threw a metal pipe at me. He managed to hit my ankle and cracked one of the bones there, not that I knew it at the time."

"How did you escape?" Her father's voice was nearly silent, anger now replaced by concern.

"I very nearly didn't. I ended up running into something even more dangerous."

Rissel cut in. "A krogan?"

"A human. He wore armour and a mask though, so I didn't know his species for sure until later."

"That man you mentioned in our vid-call. The one you called 'a very interesting friend,' right?" Rissel asked gently, reaching out to take her other hand.

Shaela nodded, smiling at her sister's show of support. "Yes. I never asked, did you tell Mum and Dad about that call?"

The younger quarian nodded quickly. "Yes," she said, squeezing her hand. "I mentioned that you seemed kind of distant when you talked about him, almost like…"

"Like I was in love with him."

If the room had been silent before, then now it was like no noise had ever occurred within its confines. Shaela felt a rush of nervousness as her family looked at her with surprise, pity, understanding… and fear.

"His name is Rassen," she began. "He saved my life that day. He taught me about things I didn't even know existed." She removed her hand from her sister's grip and gestured at the rock that still sat in front of her. Her family gasped in surprise as the object rose into the air and began spinning lazily. Shaela lowered the rock back to the table with a gentle clunking noise before she continued.

"I'll get to how I did that in a second. Soon after we met, I promised to help him with his own… problem on Omega. Later I saved his life… and he told me he'd guessed I'd fallen in love with him and that he loved me too. I-I offered to show him my face once we had finished with the reason he was on Omega."

Her mother gasped, one hand over her mouthpiece in shock. "Shaela," she whispered, "why did you never mention any of this before, dear?"

Suddenly the world seemed to begin swimming in front of her, and Shaela felt herself being pulled into a hug by the older quarian as she realised she had begun crying. "We… we got separated. I k-knew he wasn't d-dead. B-but I didn't know if I would ever s-see him again." She sniffled slightly. "I can f-feel he's back, Mum."

"How do you know for sure?" Shaela glanced up to see her father walk round the table to gently rest a hand on one of her shoulders, his eyes boring into her own. "It's been years, Shaela. It's obvious that you still care about this man, but how do you know for sure that you can find him now when you couldn't before?"

"Like I s-said. H-he taught me how to feel things. How to s-see the universe in a n-new way. That's how I can move things without touching them. I can sense things in ways I couldn't before. I-I can't really explain it better than that. He would be able to help you understand b-better than m-me."

Her mother gently released her grip, ending the hug as she looked at her husband before returning her attention to her eldest daughter. She seemed to think for a moment, weighing up all that she had heard. "I'm not entirely sure what to make of all this," she admitted, "but it does sound like you need to go and find him."

Rissel gasped loudly as Shaela's father went very still, seemingly having trouble understanding what had just been said.

The grey-suited quarian continued. "You've been different ever since you came back, Shaela. Changed, like a part of you is missing." She gently raised a hand to cup her daughter's cheek as best she could despite the bulky helmet the latter wore. "If you love him like you say you do, then I agree with you. You need to find him."

"I agree, too!" Shaela announced, practically bouncing up and down in her seat in excitement. "I can go with you and it can be like a Pilgrimage!"

"No," their mother interrupted, voice now stern. "With Shaela gone, Matriarch Wessa will be one hand short. You'll need to fill in for your sister while she's gone." She paused for a moment. "You were right about having to go alone, Shaela. I'm still needed here and so is your father."

Shaela nodded to her mother and bit her lower lip as her father growled lowly and paced to the other side of the room before moving to stand in front of her. "The last time you left home," he began, "you came back like your mother said, with a part of you missing. I don't… I don't want to see you get any worse, Shaela. How do you know for sure that this trip won't cause that to happen?"

"I don't, Dad," Shaela whispered. "But I know that this is something I have to do. Please let me."

Her father scoffed. "You don't need my permission." His voice softened. "I just want you to be safe and happy, Shaela. The galaxy is recovering, but it can still be dangerous."

Shaela rose from her chair and threw her arms around him. "I know," she murmured. "The important thing though is that I make it just a bit brighter before I return."

She smiled as her father hugged her back tightly, the latter making a noise of approval. "I don't like the idea of you going alone," he began, "but I agree with your mother that this is something you should do if you believe you must. Have you given any thought as to how you are going to get to wherever you need to go?"

Shaela shook her head. "No. Do you have any ideas?"

The sound of a knock on the door caused everyone to turn their attention to it as Rissel hopped off her seat to answer. As the door swung open, Shaela blinked in surprise at the familiar figure that stood there, blue skin illuminated softly by the lights of the nearby houses.

"Sorry to drop by uninvited," Matriarch Wessa began, "I was visiting a friend nearby and thought I'd let Shaela know that everything from today has been wrapped up aside from a few forms she needs to sign. I forgot to mention those earlier, though I believe it has something to do with another quarian causing a disruption in the reception area." The asari frowned at the scene is front of her once she had finished her explanation. "It appears that after hundreds years, I still haven't mastered good timing."

Shaela smiled widely at the appearance of her teacher. "Matriarch Wessa," she began. "Asari matriarchs normally have vast quantities of personal resources, right?"

Wessa nodded in confusion. "Yes?"

She broke away from her father before walking over to the asari. "I'd like to ask a favour of you."

The batarian snarled in anger as a spike of pain stabbed through his throat. It had been several hours since his ally had reminded him of his place. He had refused to take a large enough treatment of medi-gel to completely alleviate the pain of the armoured woman's attack. He would finish the treatment soon, but for the moment he needed to focus. Pain would help him to achieve that focus.

He walked to the door which connected his private quarters to the hallway beyond and opened it, the unpainted grey metal sliding aside to reveal two guards standing at each side of the corridor. He nodded to the other two batarians, receiving a respectful nod of acknowledgment from them in return. One of the agreements made with the leader of his guests had been that none of her soldiers could enter this wing of the facility. The only people allowed entrance were himself and his fellow batarians… along with one exception. He was off to meet with that one exception now.

The guards remained at their post as he walked past them, two others detaching from the shadows of the corridor several metres beyond to fall into step behind him. Despite the threat Mandalore had delivered, she had said that she wouldn't betray their alliance at the moment. Even so, it was never a bad idea to present yourself as powerful and in control… even if you were reliant on someone you would never have trusted in a less desperate situation.

He and his escort walked for ten minutes through the claustrophobic metal corridors of the facility, the only illumination being the overhead light fixtures which filled the base with dim light every few metres, before they stopped at a door. Nothing in particular distinguished it from the one which led to his quarters. Indeed, nothing separated it from any of the other doors within the base. Still, he savoured the moment before activating his omni-tool and sending the command for the door to unlock, which it duly did a mere second later, revealing the room beyond. He entered while projecting as much confidence as he could, motioning for his two guards to stay just outside.

The room in which he now found itself appeared to be a combination of a science lab and something out of a science fiction vid. Metal desks jutted out from the wall to his left, several batarians in uniforms of the Hegemony's science division sitting at monitors, eyes alert as they made notes about the information before them. On the other side, sophisticated looking equipment, some of it familiar but much of it not, operated quietly, the different noises combining to produce a low hum which seemed to throb in the back of his head. All of those pieces of machinery were likewise under the scrutiny of batarian scientists. They had been taught about the unfamiliar equipment by the man he had come to talk to.

The man had declined to tell him his name, so he had returned the favour. It all seemed a little petty admittedly, but respect had to be earned. He had been wronged; he was not going to let the guilty party get away with it, even if his revenge was not quite as bloody as he would have preferred. The batarian pushed that particular thought away. Now was not the time to let his anger boil over completely. He began walking toward the middle of the room, where his target stood.

"Doctor, how is it proceeding?" He asked, voice filling the room and causing the attention of the other batarians to fall upon him. He waved a hand dismissively, allowing them to return to their work. "Do you have an estimated time until completion?"

The 'Doctor' as he knew him, turned away from the project in question, eyes narrowed slightly at the interruption. Not for the first time, the batarian found himself staring at the short horns atop the man's head, a feature that coupled with his facial tattoos reminded him that despite how similar he looked at first glance, the man before him was not a human, but rather something else. He didn't know what the species was though, not that he cared enough to ask.

"It is hard to tell with matters like this," the 'Doctor' began, speaking in a very much to the point manner. "If I had to estimate? No more than a week, perhaps less even. Our technology may be more advanced than what you possess but even so, I cannot be any more precise than that."

The batarian nodded stiffly and walked past the man to stand in front of the topic of their conversation. It had been the one thing he had insisted on when the Mandalorians had contacted him. Mandalore had questioned what the point of it even was, but he had managed to persuade her by saying that once he had what he wanted, her people could have it for themselves. He turned back to the man who stood watching him, unable to avoid feeling a small amount of grudging admiration.

"That is better than I dared to hope." He admitted, before turning to leave, only to stop as the voice of the project's leader reached him.

"I heard that Mandalore may have been a little rough with you. I have no qualms with taking a look at your throat while you're here."

The batarian stiffened before marching for the exit, ignoring the rising sense of indignation he felt. This wasn't the first time he had been baited, and he would give the alien no more satisfaction. He still needed the man and his people. He let his anger simmer, but kept it under control. Soon he would be able to vent it, but for now he needed to keep focused on his goals. Pain often helped with that, he reflected again.

"You need a ship," Matriarch Wessa repeated slowly. "Are you planning to leave Rannoch?"

Shaela nodded in response. "I know that this is a lot to ask for, Matriarch, but I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important." She took a deep breath before continuing. "It's about him."

Wessa looked about to respond instantly before seemingly thinking better of it; mouth closing as she began to mull over the request. Shaela felt her stomach twist uncomfortably at the range of expressions that crossed the asari's face. She was clearly weighing the situation, turning it over in her mind. After a moment of silence, the asari finally spoke.

"Every ship that I own bar one I have allowed to be borrowed to assist in whatever capacity necessary. The exception is the vessel I used to come to Rannoch, a small one person transport. I would have volunteered it for reconstruction efforts as well if it had a cargo hold, moving food and medical supplies being such a concern at the moment." The asari gave Shaela a very serious look. "The Falsha is the only thing I have left of my bondmate. I am very reluctant to part with it."

Shaela felt herself deflate slightly. "I-… very well, Matriarch, I underst-"

"So bring it back in one piece."

"I… I'm sorry?" Shaela asked, disbelieving. "I thought you just said-"

Wessa laughed softly, looking at each quarian in front of her before returning her gaze to Shaela. "I told you to have faith that you would see him again. Far be it for me to then stand in your way. Besides, I was under the impression that piloting a ship is something all quarians pick up at a young age."

"I d-don't know what to say," Shaela breathed, still disbelieving. "I mean, you've taught me so much already and now you're letting me borrow something so precious to you."

Wessa smiled widely. "Yes, well," the oldest occupant of the room by centuries sighed as though remembering a better time. "I know what it's like to be young, Shaela. Asari don't age in the same way as the other races, but we can still look back at when we were maidens and see what we used to be like. If I were a few hundred years younger and in your position… I wouldn't let anything stop me. The way I see it, you'll find a way to get a ship no matter what. I would have at your age, well relatively speaking your age."

Shaela beamed at the asari before nearly knocking her over as she embraced her. "Thank you, Matriarch," she breathed. "Thank you so much."

A quiet cough caused everyone to turn their attention to her father. "It seems as though this matter is decided then." He turned to look at his eldest daughter. "One thing I think that we can all agree on though is that you need as much protection as possible, just in case. Your pistol is a start, but we'll need to find you a good kinetic barrier and plenty of antibiotics, just to be on the safe side."

"I can get my hands on those things," Wessa reassured him. "But with Shaela gone we will be one person down at the hospital. I will need someone to fill in for her."

Rissel began bouncing up and down where she still sat. "We thought about that," the youngest occupant of the room exclaimed excitedly. "I can be Shaela 2.0 for you Matriarch!"

Wessa smirked in amusement. "If you can focus that energy, then you will do nicely." She turned her attention back to Shaela. "Head to the hospital first thing tomorrow morning. I'll give you everything you need and then take you to the Falsha. In the meantime I suggest you get plenty of sleep. If memory serves, adventure is not something for those who are overtired."