1-14

Changes

The Jackals were natural spacefarers. Humans had a word for this that they so romantically applied to themselves: Pirates. Swashbuckling thieves who pursued profit like a god. Underneath the Covenant, naturally, those urges were suppressed, however on those Jackals assigned to far away patrols, or even were rogue against the Covenant and still sought to raid and plunder. It was his right, and Kaal never forgot that, even as a soldier of the Covenant. He, more than any other Jackal, now realized he was free in this new galaxy. Destiny said it himself: God was not there.

Though there was another thing he always silently thought to himself. How godly was God if his essence was physical? Was High Charity's very core not Forerunner? Tangible? Understandable enough to power the station? By grace of being a Jackal, he was afforded skepticism. Many of his kind were like that, though not all.

"On our nose." One of his helmsmen cried out to him as he sat in his newly acquired chair. Bigger than him, but it was comfy enough even if it was taken. The command windows of the sloop had quickly been filled up with a rather quaint planet, by any regard. The Quarians were right, these ships were by no means difficult to command or fly, and that was why they quickly approached a planet they thought had been a farce: It seemed as if they were just led back to Altis, but no, it was a different planet. Larger than it, land masses visible and plentiful enough as clouds criss crossed its skies.

Interesting name this planet: Virmire. Kaal had mused about it as the ship ground to a halt in orbit. His instructions said he would be contacted upon assuming position.

A few of his fellow Jackal crewed had chittered among themselves as they looked down at the undoubtedly beautiful and ripe planet.

"Maybe we can finally establish a Jackal colony. Wouldn't it be nice?" One of them had spoken asides to Kaal. Truly it had been. In the hierarchy of the Covenant, the Jackals were hardly above the Grunts. If only because of his experience was he personally allowed to speak to that Sara Ryder. She was polite; as polite as a Human had ever been to him, and that hadn't been saying much. However after a handful of pat downs and tours of the ship he had been sidelined as she simply pursued her own research. She did, once or twice, inquire about the Covenant, however he had been given his orders, same as every single member of the Solace's contingent, to not give a single word on it.

Here he was being paid a lump sum beyond his years to do exactly not that.

And what of it?

"It's strange," started one of his subordinates. "being out here without the regard of the Prophets."

"I think it feels good." Kaal had dutifully said, glancing at his omni as the feathers on the back of his neck were slicked back. "Somehow, even shipwrecked in another universe, we have to play by the same rules within our own caste. How is that fair?"

It wasn't, that was the point of the Covenant castes. All of them defined by adherence to authority by the word of God, as handed down from the San'Shyuum. There God was not there, after all, and they did not come out into a galaxy without its monsters.

The alarm sirens of the sloop had gone out as the Jackals heard the Grunts in the cargo hold collectively panic, the hull of the ship starting to buckle.

"It's coming from behind!" The Jackal on the radar station had yelled out, but he was overwhelmingly underselling such a thing as a great shadow appeared to fly over them, casting its darkness onto the light of the bridge through glass and steel.

The ships of the Covenant had been larger, more deadly, than any in this galaxy. Though this ship, this design, the colors and how it almost blended into the very blackness of space. Not even the Solace in its prime could leave an impression as it approached them, its arms reaching out over them like a veil. This ship, compared to that sloop, had been massive. Maybe the size of a CAS-class starship of the Covenant, but it had left an impression far, far larger as it turned around to reveal a face of impossible geometry. No description able to be uttered save for the eyes peering above a metal, tentacled mouth. Glowing stars, staring into each of them, burrowing into their mind's eye. The ship seemed to breath, its height culminating in a curling tail that spoke to leviathans of mythos.

Moments, seconds, minutes; manifested as hours and eons to the Jackals as the ship did nothing but sit in front of them until a communication was beamed directly to them: giving that ship a voice.

"I am Saren Arterius."

Kaal had fought ODSTs and helped raze worlds. He had subjugated his own kind and eaten the damned alive. He was a hungry Jackal, a well-lived Jackal, and, if anything, a pioneering one. He swallowed the saliva in his mouth and took charge.

"Hmph. You called?"

Shepard had been, as a general rule of thumb she gave herself, always empathetic outright to those she had no prior history with. Not to see it was a move out of ignorance and innocence, not was she completely simplified in her mind to it; but if she was to put her best foot forward in life, the only way she could live with that is if she assumed everyone else did the same, regardless of color, creed, or, in recent years, civilizations. Of all the images she had made for herself over the years, the Shepard that had been measured, empathetic, a paragon of men and women the galaxy over that transcended human morality, was the one that she thought best of herself. It was also the version that Alliance propaganda throughout the galaxy also propagated, especially in the advent of her turn to Spectre. Still, depending on what wikia page (each species, even in the turn of the extranet maintained their own more "local" information net) one looked at, she had been differently taken.

The Turians had spoken well of her in domestic reporting, starting from Elysium, and then Torfan, she being very "Turian" in her disposition toward pirates and, frankly, Batarians. She exhumed military service and its etiquette and, for the Turians, that had been of all things points in her favor. That disposition had gone down following Eden Prime of course, but she had been held in higher esteem than most public Humans.

The Salarians had been mostly ambivalent. She was sure of it personally. They might've had a file on her, no doubt, but Salarian public interest was never something to note outside of their inner sphere.

Batarians had regarded her nothing less than an antithetical terrorist, of course, given what she had done to many a Batarian pirate. Pirate was subjective of course. The Batarian sphere and its politics complicated even by galactic standards. One man's freedom fighter was another's extremist in the end.

It was the Asari, however, Shepard had learned that night, that held rather the most interesting view on her.

Shepard had, coming down from the command deck that day, another data pad for Dr. T'Soni. Liara, she insisted to be called, and so Shepard had abided.

"I just got off the horn with the Council." Shepard mentioned, an extra nice uniform on just for them. Liara glanced up from her notes.

"What did they say?"

Shepard pursed her lips. Around her the crew had gotten used to Shepard's atmosphere, passing by and holding duties as regular. Her presence, as per naval tradition it seemed, had finally broken in the two weeks they had departed from the Citadel. They were, save a few hold outs, comfortable with her. More comfortable with her than they were with each other, Shepard pegged. That was an issue for further along however. There was a lot of ground to cover and, already, she had already given heart-to-hearts, or at the very least, touched base with the majority of the crew. From the lowest ranked Marine to Dr. Chakwas.

Liara would be no different. She needed the interaction if anything.

"It was about you, actually, primarily."

Liara seemed impish as Shepard took a seat across from her.

For the meanwhile, Liara had assumed her studies in the mess. Taking the table as her own when no meal was being eaten by a shift. No one had particularly seemed to mind, and it was an oddity of the Normandy by its nature. Usually, even on bigger ships without a dedicated mess hall, the table or accommodations that were the mess became the natural congregation place of the crew off-duty. On the Normandy, the well deck had become that. Right by the gear lockers, an almost camp-site of fold out chairs, unused lockers turned on their sides, and a cooler had turned into where the Marines of Hitman, and indeed the rest of the outgoing crew had congregated. Even Pressly had sat a few times down there after particularly stressful shifts, communicating with Council patrols also on the prowl for Geth and wondering what the hell the Normandy was.

Still, she was glad for it. She only wished she herself had more time to do so.

She saw Liara's worry in her face, raising her hands up non-accusingly. "I don't mean by my regard. I simply reported that I had taken custody of you following Therum and would see it best you used as an active asset."

"Custody?" Liara had only gotten more worried. "Am I-?"

Shepard chuckled, shaking her head. "No. Don't worry. It's just the Council would prefer I use that language. In plain English, and you must understand how it sounds, I am, while simultaneously hunting Saren, having the daughter of one of his confidants with me. A daughter for, as far as the Council can dig up, was also missing for a few months."

Liara had fumed, but not at Shepard. "That damned University! I always knew their record keeping was off but-"

Shepard again raised her hands. "As you said, and I agree, having you here is to your safety. That and as far as anyone is aware of, save the most skeptical, you have no ulterior motives." Upfront, that's what Shepard was. It was an Asari idiom that translated down to: All that a person is is what they present. So if this was Shepard as a whole, Liara did very much trust her.

"I'm just an archeologist, Command-"

"Just Shepard, if you may. You're not military, so there's no need."

"Shepard." Liara tried it on her tongue before continuing. "I'm just an archeologist, I've spent my life on simple digs and, well, rather boring projects. Nothing like this. I don't quite know if I belong on this crew."

Shepard had shrugged. "Still, your experience in that is valuable. Your insight into the Protheans is paramount. Anything you can discover might give us the edge up on Saren."

Everyone on her team had excelled at something; the sum of the parts had been more than the whole, as always. Even when bogged down by the military etiquette and routine, even those uninvolved in the Alliance hierarchy had found their roles. From something as small as maintenance on the Mako as Garrus had put on, to the intricacies of the Protheans as Liara had explained to the crew when pressed.

Some Hitman had their doubts about Shepard, surely, as did the rest of the crew, but the idea of Reapers, of civilization-sized resets happening, there was a precedent, and the Reapers were the explanation.

"You're talking like a prophet, Dr. T'Soni." One of them had spoken to her in jest. It sounded maddening to think, in all the galaxy, they alone held the knowledge of what truly was in store and were the only ones doing something about it. Anyone in the service would argue they were making the galaxy, if not their homeworld, a better place, and would give their life for it. By what measure of weight then would it feel to harbor the sanctity and sanity of the galaxy then? To save it themselves? To know that would be to go mad themselves.

And the grating edge of her dreams, Shepard knew, in recent nights, what it was to go mad. She saw them in her dreams: the answer to an impossible question that eluded her as a mortal. Something so horrible and inhumane that it went beyond morality as she understood it, and to know it, would be to go insane herself. Though she looked into the abyss of her mind, forcing her to relive that vision as beamed to her by the Protheans as if her very life depended on it.

Liara smiled fondly at Shepard as she saw the appreciative spark in her eyes, however there was something else. Past the latent aura of her biotics, or the smile she put on. It was like a shadow, ghosting her. She was tainted. That word had come to Liara's mind naturally as she remembered what she knew of Shepard outright.

"Do you know what the opinion of Matriarchs are of you, Shepard?" Shepard rose her eyebrow, beckoning her to go on as Liara went on. "Well. Not a Matriarch. Justicars. I have not interacted with one in my life, however they sometimes comment on particularly dangerous galactic figures."

Dangerous. Shepard opened her mouth to say otherwise, but then she remembered who she was: before she was a Spectre. She sometimes remembered Earth-fiction of the 21st and 20th century, and how they promised an idea of warfare of her present that was… cleaner.

There was nothing clean about what a shotgun did to a Batarian foxhole that had been occupied, or what it looked like when an explosive strike from above sent Batarians and Marines alike hurtling into the darkness of space when they bombed a low-gravity planetoid.

"Hope it's not negative." Liara paused as Shepard made her comment, but shook her head.

"For some. They see it as a shame, that you won't live more than a hundred years." Shepard had chuckled. She would be lucky if she even made it that far with the life she lived. However Liara hesitated, saying the next, part, looking back down to her notes. "For some, like my mother, they think you'd be better off with a Salarian's lifespan."

"Oh?" Shepard rose an eyebrow.

Liara had muttered, but Shepard deserved at least to know. "Asari, we see things in the long span of time. Every action we take, every decision we go through with, either on the personal or even race-wide levels, we understand that they will resonate far longer and greater than most other races realize. It is a cultural understanding… We're able to see the effects of decisions with foresight… a gut feeling as you say."

"How does that compare to me then?"

Liara had looked at Shepard with bright, innocent eyes, taking her in, seeing the strands of loose hair cascade down her face from her bangs, her freckles not unlike her own. She was a beautiful woman, that much Liara could admit. Sharp, yet warm; something distinctly maternal about her that made her green eyes that of Eden and her smiles that of the sun. And yet there was a tiredness behind it all: behind the lines of her face or when she turned away from conversation. Liara had lived more than quadruple her life, and yet she knew all the same that Shepard had been older.

"There is a term that is popular amongst the Asari, Shepard. Every Asari learns about it in some intro to philosophy course: Every decision we make, and every choice we choose, has far reaching implications. Now some choices have more weight to them, are more important, of course. What I choose for breakfast is nothing to compare to the decision between electing one leader over another, naturally, but my Mother spoke of you as if… forgive me if the translators aren't communicating this properly," Liara paused, gathering her breath, before letting go. "She spoke of you as if the galaxy was approaching you to make those decisions, not the other way around."

Shepard's kind face had slowly, slowly, became neutral as she looked at Liara's hands. Soft as they were, her fingers rubbing themselves as Shepard became lost trying to find the correct term, the right term, one she had known as well if only if-

"Mass Effect."

The Asari nodded once before biting her lip. "I've lived my life, perhaps, in some way so I would never have to effect the galaxy like that. Looking backward, not forward. Though I suppose that's where another saying comes in: Those who fail to learn from the past, are doomed to repeat it."

Hours later, all section heads on deck; or, at least, in the comm room. That included the two Chiefs however, they themselves technically head of… themselves. Still, it was warranted.

"As you all may know," Shepard had began, thumbing at the galaxy map in the room. "We've been hitting suspected Geth outposts and pickets up and down the sector, chasing leads."

All of them had nodded. Kaiden, present, had actually been in his armor along with Chief Durante. They two had been just recently back from one such outing with a fireteam. They had hit another rather icy world hours ago. Shepard leading Hitman out as Kaiden took the improvisional fireteam that had rounded out the aliens and the Chiefs. Kaiden had never particularly minded. As far as commands went, the more that Shepard had hands on time with the rowdy Marine Raiders, the less time he would have making sure their bellyaching was subdued. Chief Williams, of all people, had found a better home on the Normandy with Hitman than anything. The not-so-friendly jesting they did regarding her heritage had only been beaten back by her own tenacity, which was, as far as things went, good.

Chief Durante had looked at Ashley with a hint of skepticism, Kaiden had noticed. JD would never verbalize outright, but he was confused, if not at her, but rather himself. How much damage had been done to him to still remember the squads he had lost? Ashley had taken her loss well enough, but it just rubbed him the wrong way, not that it was a conversation piece. What had been conversation pieces had been, instead, in the rare moments he and her did talk, was over training regimen and opinion of aliens.

In truth he'd rather be talking about what the plan was with the hunt, which was why he was okay being there in comms, his helmet sitting in his lap as Mai silently paid her due of attention.

The lead on Noveria had gone dark at the moment, and the Council had advised against pursuing it. What that left had been the open Geth problem that had birthed the galaxy's worries. Mai had been getting antsy. She hadn't been called to deployment for some days now, since Liara was picked up, and she was getting antsy. JD knew how that anxiousness manifested in her: her brow would furrow as she thought to herself, tucked behind the Mako as she read for what was the hundredth time galactic state of affairs or the biology of a Turian for… well, unclean reasons. She needed to fight, and the Normandy didn't have even the equipment set for her to particularly keep her skills honed.

"Sparring?" JD had asked yesterday, regretting the moment it came out of his mouth as they remembered the Montenegro and how many men she had turned to pulp that day. Kai Leng had, among others who had been beat to shit that day, apparently, according to correspondence with Hackett, petitioned for Mai's court martial. He was denied and not very happy with it. Hackett and Anderson had been keeping up private correspondences with the two. Single sentenced reports, back and forth, confirming information and planets that Mai's information dump of coordinates had yielded. The first planets had been yielding fruit, slowly. Alliance survey corps had been "miraculously" finding beneficial planet upon beneficial planet. Deposits of resources that, by themselves, wouldn't be groundbreaking, but altogether had been significant.

"We don't give them the habitable planets until after."

"After what?"

"They give us what we want with the Covenant."

That conversation, hushed between them, half said in sign language even, had put them where they stood. To think that they even needed to bargain still gave them a hint of despair, but their new lives were forming, ever so slowly. Perhaps one particular note of change came from a report about a planet.

"Onyx." Mai recounted with barely a hint of humanity in her voice. "It's not there."

JD had never heard of that planet before, and he tilted his head at her as they both looked at their omni's at the encrypted report. There was nothing there where Mai had said it would be. "What kind of planet was it?"

Mai didn't answer that, but she said something else. "It was where we were trained."

JD saw it differently almost immediately. It was where she was kidnapped to.

And yet it wasn't there. The only planet in Mai's list that did not exist. A fluke maybe, but…

"Should we check, at least, on Reach?" That thought had finally blasted JD's head after all this time. Of course the planet they knew as Reach would not be at all the same in that universe, but its position in regards to Earth, even now more than ever, spoke to it being a fortress world all the same. Human curiosity, curiosity in general; Mai had believed in a saying perhaps a little too stringently. Curiosity tended to kill cats.

"Why?" She posed back to him. That had been that.

For the meeting Shepard had ran down the gamut about their operations so far and on the Normandy itself. They had been away for three and a half weeks now, from Earth. It had felt so, so much longer with everything they were doing on the day to day, however their mission had hardly gone on longer than a cruise at this point. The future ahead of them had been indistinct and long and Shepard had been sure to highlight it.

"As far as I can tell, the Normandy has performed its job exactly as intended. We've been slinking past early warning buoys for known pirate and third-war factions on this side of the Attican without incident. Stealth system is working pretty, and we've been inserting in and out of areas of interest with little incident."

Joker had chimed in over the intercom. "Wouldn't mind getting into a shootout one of these days Shepard. She's still a warship."

Shepard shook her head at the disembodied voice. "Let me handle the run and gunning, Lieutenant."

"Aye ma'am."

Shepard had finally looked around at the section heads. Kaiden, Dr. Chakwas, Chief Adams, and another Chief by the name of Weston. He had been the main Req Officer, and Shepard's main point of contact for supplies and weaponry. He had been, almost incidentally, the closest, proximity wise, to Chief Gul and Chief Durante just by consequence of his desk being right next to the Mako. He had learned to tune them out in favor of his own work, and the two other Chiefs had been happy with it. The two of them had also been there.

"Alright, hit me with those updates people before I deliver mine."

Kaiden had started. "Hitman Team has been performing with little difficulty ma'am. They're rather self-sufficient shipboard, and on the ground, well, you know better than anyone that they're up to spec. All Marines unassociated to them have taken on guard duty well."

Shepard had felt the tingle of her implant behind her ear. "How many biotics do we have again? Five?"

Kaiden nodded. The two of them had been included. "You and me are the most potent, however current fireteam tactics are playing our abilities down."

Shepard nodded. "Good."

Mai perked her ears up. How strange it sounded to her that Shepard didn't want to take advantage of a gift she had. To handicap one's self felt defeating.

Chief Weston had palmed his buzzcut as he put his cap back on. He had been an older man, a man who looked archetypical for warehouse management, and he had privately bellyached as much as anyone about his current assignment on the Normandy. Though it was more out of all of this being above his paygrade, between his CO being a Spectre, the Geth, and frankly, the spooks he had been exposed to everyday.

He grinded his teeth. "Admittedly five is a bit much for a ship our size," he started. "Add on Chief Gul's own dietary needs, we run about 20% harder on food stores than other ships our size. I'm not even going to think about what Wrex is doing to our inventory." Enough time had passed that trends and analysis had been able to be reported to Shepard, as was Weston's job. "It's not particularly an issue, but, we run thin margins. The Normandy is actually five over capacity for our crew count, and accounting for the Dextro Aminos with Mr. Vakarian and Miss. Vas Neema, it's not ideal."

Hitman's sudden and rather shady replacement of the Normandy Marine compliment had been a headache in terms of bookkeeping, but they had finally settled on a final number shortly after their first departure from the Citadel: Twenty Marine Raiders, five Marines, two Naval SOF, one N7-grade Officer and Spectre, thirteen Engineers and CIC staff (including the pilot), and, finally, four alien specialists at present. Forty-five crew members to a ship that would accommodate, at max, in wartime operation, forty. All of them sharing eight sleeper pods.

The Normandy was packed. Almost unreasonably so. Though there had been advantages of hosting that many away-mission capable personnel.

Memories of the Blitz had followed Shepard each time the Mako left the well deck on assignment, and the enemies she had faced planetside never anticipated an entire platoon of Marines come for them as opposed to, say, a standard three-man fireteam excursion.

Shepard ran a military unit to its most lethal degree. Even when she was fixing beacons. Because if she was fixing beacons at least the rest of the deployed unit could fan out and investigate the area. Nothing was simple in the Attican.

"The added mass from the crew complement doesn't seem to be affecting our core. She's still chugging along, especially with Tali's advice from Quarian optimization routines."

There was good news there, at least. Speaking of which.

"Chief Adams, be aware, we've been given orders for next rearm and refit to be taken away from Arcturus."

"Ma'am?" Adams had wondered aloud.

"Altis. We've been asked to come to Altis." Too naturally JD and Mai had looked at each other in a glance as Shepard continued with all their horror. "Admiral Hackett personally requested the Normandy to come to Altis. Situation report I need to attend, along with adjustments that have to be done by personnel at Altis apparently, seeing as the Normandy has been away for some time."

"Why Altis?" Kaiden asked the question. He had already been there and held no love for it. He had engaged the Covenant and had his reservations for it.

"Killimanjaro and the Fifth Fleet has been tasked around Altis. She definitely isn't moving." Hackett's flagship had remained over Altis with his fleet, and it would remain there still. "Altis is real busy now, even when compared to the Covenant." Shepard rattled off. "The Quarians have set up shop, starting local integration with the Covenant. All reports make clear is that their stay there is temporary and will be, with any luck, spearheading a proactive assault into the Perseus Veil."

Adams had been nodding along with Shepard. "I asked Tali, her opinion on this."

"What'd she say?" Shepard had been too polite to not ask her about the Quarian flotilla. Tali had obviously been someone who respect the sanctity of her people, including its security, however Adams had no such pretense, engineer that he was.

She had gotten the broadband declaration over the Quarian net the same as the rest of those on Pilgrimage. It was unprecedented in all the history of the Migrant Fleet: to prepare to return to the Flotilla in preparation for what was called the "Final Journey". The one which took her people back home.

The quiet solitude of Tali, working away at her console by the core, was surrounded by tension that seemed so unlike the young woman. There was, in essence, an aura of grit around her as she grinded her teeth behind her mask. She wasn't happy with what was happening at all.

"Rannoch is for the Quarians." She said, when Adams finally pressed her on her opinion.

Shepard blinked at Adams as he recounted. It was understandable to her, on some measure. Would Torfan been the same for her if she had lost all her men during the final pushes on pirate and mercenary positions, only for a forgotten tactical asset that would've spared them their lives was activated and rendered all her actions moot? Deus Ex Machina. For many Quarians, the arrival and the willingness of the Covenant had been beyond words a blessing and the key to their plight. However for some, so ingrained in their struggles, in their belief of themselves as a people… It robbed them of what felt like a promised future.

"She's staying here." Adams said next, surprising everyone. "Even if the Migrant Fleet recalls her, she's opting to remain on the Normandy to see Saren and the Geth finished with."

Shepard nodded. "We've hit a few Geth outposts and pickets while out here. I've been handing her collected data anyway. It's good that she's staying, but uh, let's keep her in check."

"Aye ma'am."

It was something that JD and Mai had no particular problem adhering to, but Tali had been a source of some civility in the air of Marines and Mercenaries that filled out the Normandy's fireteams. She was, frankly put, an awkwardly placed young woman. He kept his mouth shut as Shepard scanned the room after saying that, he giving her a curt nod.

"Doc?" Shepard had referred to Chakwas, she folding her hands over her lap as she attentively listened in. Her head nodded at her. "How're we doing on injuries?" A few Hitmen had taken hits during the last Geth encounter. Alliance and Citadel Intelligence had corroborated that the longer the Geth were exposed to open combat with the wider galaxy, the more they'd learn. Shepard and the Normandy were the tip of that spear.

"Nothing major. Corporal Loke and Sergeant Black are recovering. I'd recommend three more days at least of bed rest to let the injuries smooth over before returning them to duty… There is another issue to discuss with Tali."

"Go on."

Chakwas smoothered out her uniform before proceeding. "She's requesting stimulants and particular nutrient packages from the Migrant Fleet meant for combat personnel. I can synthesize some formulas, and, given our next pick up is where the Migrant Fleet is, we can accommodate, but I'd like clearance from you."

Shepard had thinned out her mouth, a half frown on her lips. "Kaiden how many away missions has Tali been on?"

"Seven."

"She performing well in combat situations?"

He nodded. "For what time she's been exposed to us? Yeah. It's her will, more than anything, especially against the Geth when encountered."

A silence persisted throughout the room. They were all charged with this thought: they were making a soldier out of Tali by grace of her being there, affirming her role in the galaxy on that mission. She was the hardest worker any of them had seen, and surrounding her with Marines that were crucial to the mission? The outcome was natural.

"I-" JD opened his mouth without consideration, and the entire meeting turned to him. He couldn't go back on his words. "I approve of her current heading."

"Chief Durante?" Shepard rose an eyebrow

Some of the hardest fighters he had known were civilians turned militiamen fighting for their home. Mai could say the same, if not more; she had fought them.

He ran his hand over his prickly face, only to back to his hair. The last time he let it grow that long he saw the beginnings of a mullet and wondered, vaguely, if anyone would mind if he did grow it out. Special forces types higher than ODSTs often had relaxed grooming standards, and it was a slot he filled out now.

He looked to Mai in a flash, unsure if he wanted to speak on, hoping she knew what he was communicating.

She did. "If Tali remains beneath our sphere of influence her growth as an asset for Humanity exponentially increases, especially if she disagrees with the current state of affairs." Mai had spoken like so many ONI spooks that owned her before. Her voice was dead, and it sounded like they were at war. JD hadn't known if she knew that just now. The other section heads looked at each other worryingly before Mai continued. "Her current position and state of affairs abroad make it relatively predictable that she will be fighting for the rest of her life."

Hate and prejudice. Pure and unadulterated animosity toward the enemies of mankind. She knew it well. Very many Spartan-IIIs, grown up with her, had felt the boil in their blood that solidified them into who they became. Covenant. Insurrectionists. Whoever had robbed them of their lives, they channeled that rage into becoming Spartans.

Same as her. At that very moment, said into words, she realized what reflection she really saw in Tali's visor. How different they were, and yet…

"I'd rather not put Tali in that position, Chiefs." Shepard answered with concern in her voice.

"Ma'am," Mai, among anyone on that crew, had been the one who responded with as much stone in her lungs to Shepard. Shepard's affability did not break into her yet, and it was doubted if she would ever. "I don't think it's up to us."

"Then who?" Shepard asked.

"The War." Mai had answered so naturally.

Shepard rose her eyebrow. "What War?"

Wherever there was Covenant, there would be war, and right now Mai was still waging that war within herself. Mai's eyes darted down to her knees, her knuckles curled on them. "I mean..." JD had never heard Mai correct herself like this. "The presence of conflict. Given our current assignment and the nature of her existence."

The frown of Shepard's mouth curved downward still. "It doesn't fill me with great pride to be training another soldier for the sake of training her, Chief Gul… Are you training her?"

Mai shook her head, gesturing her hand to JD. "Tali's training is being mixed in with PT. She's becoming generally competent at her level, Liara is also being fast tracked onto the same regimen."

"SOF-grade?"

"Yes ma'am."

Shepard had puffed out some air from her lips, eyes becoming heavy for a moment. "I don't take great joy in putting Tali and Liara, especially, into harm's way, but our intent in their training should be of self-preservation as opposed to offensive."

"Tell that to her, ma'am." Kaiden chipped in. "Tali really, really believes she needs to fight the Geth herself."

Shepard's gaze became distant, looking to the floor, wincing her eyes for a moment before turning back to reality. "I'm building an army, yes, allies to help us against Saren, but not like this, if I can help it… In any case." She turned to the galactic map behind her, brought up, several points highlighted. "Now I don't know what magic the cartographer and pioneer groups are pulling, but we've had several dozen planets of interest within our sphere of influence pop up. The Normandy has been politely asked to check some of these planets out on the way."

Kaiden gruffed. "Honestly Commander, it seems antithetical to have us do this when we're tasked by the Council to hunt down Saren."

Shepard narrowed her brow with a nod herself. "I know, but we're still out here and we're an Alliance ship first, and that's my call."

Of course those planets were found. They were found because of one of the chiefs in that room, no less. If she remembered correctly, the UNSC Survey Corp was gutted and turned into a scouting fleet when the war began to go South. She only knew that because much of the map data that she used on her ops were from them. She had to fill in any depreciated info, so she wasn't unacquainted with cartography.

"We'll hit planets along this curve until we hit Attican Beta. Geth movement looks rough there especially and our colony on Feros has been hailing Colonial Authority requesting support immediately. Nothing yet, save the occasional probe, but it all points to something big soon." She drew her gaze back to the two SOF Chiefs. "Chief Gul, Chief Durante. I want you on deck when we head to Feros. You look scary enough to ensure the colonists that we're in charge, and hopefully the Geth won't make a move on them until we can do something about it. Any concerns?"

Mai had chipped up immediately. "I'll armor up now. I request to be deployed at any actions beforehand as well." She wanted the action, to justify her existence. If not she would go stir crazy.

"Aye. We'll push you and Chief Durante with fireteams to hit any points of interest beforehand."

"Thank you, ma'am." To hear Mai give thanks, it was an odd experience, but that was, for now, the most Shepard expected out of her.

The meeting went on, logistical issues, updates from the Council and the Admiralty, and expectations going forward. Nothing too out of there. Shepard was still an Alliance officer, and she ran her meetings like one: with as much tact as those that preceded her.

This was a freeform mission, and to be honest, it felt like the LRRP missions she had in her younger years, except applied to a starship. It wasn't as if she wasn't uncomfortable in this command because of it.

"Kaiden, be on deck, we're going to be engaging Geth pretty constantly from here on out. And if Feros signals for QRF we're all going in."

"Aye ma'am."

"Everyone else, be prepared for such a situation, but asides from that, we're smooth sailing. Dismissed."

All the chiefs had stood up, giving her salute as they shuffled out. Shepard had turned her back on them, toying with the comms console. She was gonna ring a call and it wasn't on their paygrade. Mai had been the last one out, but as the door closed Kaiden and JD had been awaiting her.

Mai's opinion on the biotic had been… odd, as far as her opinions of the Normandy crew went. Indeed, the trifecta of her, Kaiden, and JD had been an odd chemistry altogether. He had constrained them originally, after all with his powers. That was left unsaid, even now.

"How you doing, Chief Gul?" Kaiden had asked of Mai as JD patiently waited for her as well. How well formed the Alliance uniforms had fit on them now. A pang of betrayal felt in her heart.

"I'm condition green, sir."

"You know I mean otherwise, Chief." Kaiden had been more casual with them than the others, still, it struck a certain part of her to be called that: Chief. She had been in support of the Spartan-IIs, one operation, a long time ago. They hadn't even known she was there, providing clandestine support, but she was tuned to their frequency. They referred to only one Spartan above all as Chief…

"No comment, sir."

JD straightened his mouth and gave her a subtle eyebrow raise. Whenever he asked how she was she at least did answer in some soft formality. Was it really only with him? He cradled his helmet in his arms, only to place it back on his head for the sake of ease.

"What do you want, Chief Alenko?" JD had finally asked behind the muffle of his helmet.

"Just Kaiden, Durante. If Shepard's doing the name-thing instead of rank, I'll keep it rolling."

The amount of times JD had remembered he had been referred to by his rank while deployed he had forgotten. He didn't have the air of a Private about him anyway. For Mai, she had sometimes forgotten she had a rank at all.

"Alenko then."

"Fair enough," Kaiden had motioned his hands for them to follow, and they did, following him down to the well deck. "We're moving up on a small planetoid now. Not much to it, but a few beacons went dark that were set up by Alliance pathfinders. Doesn't really call for a full fireteam, and seeing as they're intel-based, I figure it's up your alley."

Before they had entered the elevator, JD had stopped Mai for a moment, tapping her wrist. His hand had formed into a fist as she tilted her head at him and she remembered. Rituals.

Rock, paper, scissor-

They had finished as Kaiden turned around, Mai getting in first.

"How's insertion going to work? The Mako?" Mai had asked.

Kaiden shook his head. "It's low gravity, but asides from that I'm gonna carry you down as best I can."

Mai and JD had looked at the man in concern before they remembered an aspect of this universe that had no equivalent in their own; or, at least, as far as they knew. "You would be able to…" JD had commented, remembering how he had held them both.

"No hard feelings, right?" Kaiden referred to how they first met.

As far as the three of them concerned, they were square. For all of his… space magic, Mai had seen Kaiden as competent a Marine XO. JD hadn't complained. The lieutenant struck him as a certain kind of lax that was absent from ODST officers. It was just the unknown of his abilities that made Mai tense. She did not know how to counter him, not that he was an enemy. She knew that Shepard had the same capabilities, whatever that meant. The three of them had gone into the well deck, finding their locks, but Mai had followed Kaiden to his as he geared up, and it had been a rather tense experience for him.

"How does one counter biotics?" She was blunt like a club and hit like a truck.

Kaiden raised his eyebrow at her in turn. "Isn't that something they'd teach with your regimen?" Mai shook her head once. "Ah, well… A few ways, but not anything a really well trained biotic can't work around."

"Basics?" Mai asked incredulously.

He went through his mental battle checklist on counter to himself. "Some special-issue kinetic barriers come with automatic eezo pumps. The second they detect biotics used offensively around the user they punt out some eezo to counteract." Mai had fiercely noted that in her head as Kaiden continued. "There's also being a biotic yourself, or having a biotic on your team that can draw away any offensive powers, but, that's circumstantial really… Why are you asking Gul?"

She gave a glare at Kaiden, but not a hard one. "Chief Gul, respectfully."

"Okay?"

"And just in case."

She was a hyper-lethal vector; she would be for all time. If it meant having to learn a new plane of existence then so be it.

She waited for everyone in the room to clear out, the door behind her sealing.

"Computer. Deactivate surveillance protocols in my current location," Shepard spoke loudly and clearly. "and seal the doors. Mark following time period until deactivation as classified and sensitive in nature. Authorization: Shepard Bravo-Lima-Two-Five."

The VI for the Normandy had responded promptly, the door to the comm room sealing shut and locked. "Command confirmed. You may proceed Commander." It responded.

She took in a breath and finally dialed the rightful captain of the Normandy.

He had become military attaché to Ambassador Udina on the Citadel, and to be fair no one wanted him there. The thing about old hard asses like Captain Anderson had been that you could only be a hard ass for so long before it bit him back. Still, it was a job that the Alliance needed him in, those days, if not on the Normandy.

It took a moment for him to respond, but he did, the holographic video communications going up. QEC, Quantum Entanglement Communications, had enabled the Normandy to have such comms with the rest of the galaxy at large. Still the connection was never the best. Anderson appeared standing before her in the comm room in a holographic, orange glow. Dress in his dress blues, he stood chaffed in them as his gaze lightened at Shepard.

"Captain." Shepard saluted Anderson promptly, and he returned it. "Office life treating you well?"

Anderson shook his head, knowing the joke. "Don't make me laugh Shepard. Now what do you need?"

Saren's location. A boyfriend who didn't hero worship her. A vacation where she didn't kill anything. Someone to pay down the interest on her loans that she took out to equip an entire platoon. Galactic peace.

Her face flattened as she asked. "Some information regarding some of my crew."

Anderson's face sunk in, and he was thankful there was the lack of definition over the comms that hid it. Leaving Durante and Gul alone with Shepard was something he didn't want to do, but he had confided in the pair that as long as they kept their stories, they would be fine. It'd be too suspicious to pull them off the ship with Anderson, and in end, they offered a net positive to Shepard, even if the greatest illusion came to fall. One that Shepard had now recognize in some manner.

"Go on." He coaxed Shepard on, and she sucked in her breath.

"I understand that given the nature of politics between the N7s, and our deployment capabilities, changeovers with associated assets are confusing. I've had fireteams swapped beneath my nose hours apart. So I understand if some dossier files for the additional crew on the Normandy are still yet to be cleared to me. However, if anything, I'd like to fast track it for Chief Gul and Chief Durante."

Anderson sucked in his own breath as he looked offscreen to Shepard. He was alone in his new office, still bare. Perhaps not decorating it with his personal affairs had been him telling himself this position wouldn't be permanent. Maybe after Saren was reigned in he'd be back on the Normandy. Maybe Shepard's curiosity was only skin deep. "You already have all the clearance you are afforded for the Chiefs, Commander."

Shepard's eyes furrowed for a moment, a pause before her response. "It's not much. Only their names and half of their certifications. Only biographical I've got is from them, and it's not more than a sentence each."

"Then why don't you ask them for more, Shepard? I know you."

"Because there's a veneer there, Captain." Shepard admitted, knew, tasted in the air. "I know intel assets when I see one. I can't trust their stories."

Anderson might've lectured Shepard then and there: On how they were all on the same team. Though she had known better. This was a Shepard who had waged a violent crusade against Cerberus, so much so that, in the aftermath of her gunning down of Cerberus scientists, several Alliance Intel operatives stepped down. All of them had Cerberus sympathies. Cerberus had been systematic of larger theory of belief, not the cause of it.

"You can trust them, Shepard, on my word."

"Then tell me more about them, Captain, they're just N7s like us, right?"

Maybe it would've been easy to just write them up as new graduate N7s, however the N7 corps had been tight knit. Their arrival would've been met with skepticism from Shepard and spread out to the rest of the N7s. That was something they couldn't afford. Shepard might've been uniquely her in her nature; the way she operated and why, however there were soldiers and special forces before her, and there would be after. Ryder saw himself in her, and she saw herself in Ryder. She wasn't as deluded to believe that her perception was unique in that galaxy. A good amount of N7s other than her would've been curious about the Chiefs, and that was proven by Ryder's own take on it all.

Anderson shook his head. "Chief Gul and Chief Durante were part of Special Forces trials coinciding to our anti-piracy efforts against the Batarians. Observation, especially, of Turian and Krogan battle tactics were drawn from. They were assigned to the Normandy for the sake of keeping experimental projects within the same purview." That is, on the Normandy of course. To Shepard, it made sense, whether or not the Normandy would've remained her post for her tenure as a Spectre, the ship would've seen action. Action that field trials would love to break down with the type of new that Gul especially had an air about her with.

"They aren't engineering projects, sir." Anderson winced inside of himself, Mai at least was absolutely one. "They were people before that, and from my knowledge of the Skunk Works and SOF-trials we run, they must've been like me before that. Are they like, N8s? An expansion of the N-warfare program?"

"I can't confirm or deny, Commander." Anderson said sternly.

"This current situation is a helluva place to start testing them, sir, respectfully." Shepard bit her tongue; she was a helluva person to not tell secrets too if anything, especially when she had never had this issue before in any of her missions.

"They wouldn't be dangerous to you." Anderson clarified.

"They are. Chief Gul is. They were both flagged for Xenophobic tendencies and I see it in her; that trait doesn't come alone." There was something she wanted to claim, to accuse, but God knew that she had done enough for the word on the tip of her tongue: Cerberus. To name her as related would cast her as obsessed. She had already murdered enough of the Human supremacist group.

"As consequence of her intense training, Shepard. Conditioning is a bitch, and you know that. We went through the same."

Shepard shook her head at that, her voice straining, her eyebrow raising.

"What's so special about them? Even my file isn't as classified." She had seen how Mai fought, how JD had fought; it betrayed everything she knew of Alliance SOF and of warfighting in that galaxy. There was an unknown factor on her ship that had no right to be that way.

"I don't know what to say, Shepard. What you know of them, is also all that I know."

"Then how high does it go, sir? I'm a Spectre."

It was a realization on her part, and then to Anderson's horror. If she went to the Council about them…

"I'll ask Admiral Hackett on more info, Shepard, but until then, continue with your mission. You're doing well, and god knows what our skunk works are doing. That's where they probably originate from. I wasn't the one who asked for them on the crew, after all."

Why do people lie. Why are people predisposed to tell the truth by default? The knowing self-awareness of telling a lie had been so great that it made Shepard question things far greater than herself. She never lied about what he had done when the Alliance MPs came to her after her revenge on Cerberus scientist in broad daylight: she told them that she gunned them down on evidence that wasn't 100% conclusive, but she was willing to take that dare. History proved her innocent, and so that was how she lived now. Her truth would be proved by life; that's how she dealt with Saren, in a way. The Galaxy had held her back, but once he was captured, she would be free.

Captain Anderson was lying to her. She felt it in her bones. If Anderson was lying to her, then more than him had been. Chief Durante and Chief Gul had their lies baked in their skin and it pricked at her like a fire too near. Of all the problems she had now in this galaxy, her own crew? She was never the conspiracy-type, but she had her skepticisms.

Crossing her arms, her fingers tapped along the sleeve of her uniform as she nodded to herself.

"Commander, we're approaching nav point one." Joker had alerted her in the background. She would like to be on the CIC for this as the Mako kicked off. Just a simple recon and survey. Kaiden would handle it with some of Hitman.

"Okay." She said to herself more than anything, looking back to Anderson. "I just wanted to raise some concerns I had given. That is all, Captain."

There was a certain lack of privacy that arose whenever the Mako was out of the well deck. Not that Mai had been particular about that privacy, nor JD, however the man did like his corner to nod off in to be secluded out of want to make sure none of his squadmates did any hijinks to him in his napping state.

For Mai, it was just easier that way to be left alone.

Garrus had been more comfortable than some of the Marines (and Humans in general) to cross that unspoken divide in the Well Deck to chat with JD. Kaiden and Ashley also had dared such, but there had been something to how JD and Mai positioned themselves in their idle hours. JD had his back to the wall most days, either sitting against it or by his lockers, doing whatever he needed for the short away missions he had been called on. He was friendly enough, or, at least, amicable. It was just entertaining him at all, that those would find out they would have to contend with Mai, silently watching from her hidden place behind the Mako usually: on her cot or so rigidly leaning against the wall.

JD knew this, in some selfish sense. Mai had been acting as a buffer zone all himself with the rest of the crew and he used it.

Still, something had changed.

"Why the slings?"

The ship's lone Quarian had walked the difference across the bay during one of her off-hours. Off in regards to not her being in engineering or conducting PT with Garrus or Hitman. Her routine had been mostly the same now, finally finding her groove on this ship after a teething period, but several things had been added.

Her first true interactions with Wrex had been one of them.

He was never really that further than an arm's reach from her, with how they claimed their spaces in the bay, and Wrex didn't seem to mind ceding it to either the Marines or any crew doing PT in the well deck. He liked being close to the action, to the physicality of it all. However, there wasn't much more than a word said between him and the Quarian. They were the furthest apart as individuals, one would think. Physically, perhaps yes, but she had remembered something he did comment on when she first started training.

"What do you want kid?" He asked her, she walking very directly to him. A shotgun had been in her right hand. Not at ready, of course, but held by its midsection, like a briefcase.

Wrex finally took a good look at her. She had struck something within him when he saw a certain type of rage, of fire, within her whenever she spoke about the current affairs of the Migrant Fleet and the Covenant. He recognized it, more than anything, and there was a danger to it. He liked danger. Her armor had taken a few dings, a few marks here and there. She hadn't taken a serious direct hit yet from a weapon, she more than diligent with her kinetic barriers, but her once, almost pastel colored suit had been becoming more and more dirty, dark. The decorative fabrics that once covered some of its surface had either been stripped away by her own volition, or grinded off just by consequence of the more physical nature of her fighting nowadays. Her hood had been let down, laying more around her shoulders and neck, like a gaiter.

"You said something, earlier, about how I'd be good with a shotgun."

Humans had a certain flair for the weapon, Wrex recounted in his time. The thermal venting of it was done with a pump of an action. Supposedly it was a familiar sleight of hand for humanity, but for the equivalent weapons of at least the Krogan, there was simplicity in just upping rifle-designs to fire the shotgun-esque rounds that the galaxy had more recognized. This simplicity had come over to how he used a shotgun.

"Whose is that?"

Tali had gestured at one of the Hitmen. One of the smaller ones: a woman, her own purple scarf worn curiously how Tali did. Imitation was a form of flattery it seemed. Wrex had scoffed. "Give it back." He said, going to his own pack, reaching for his own shotgun.

It was large, especially for Tali as her arms quaked holding it. "Huh?" She struggled to say she tried to hold it like Wrex. The shotgun was more like a block of steel, accented with red. She could barely wrap her hand around the grip of it.

"That. Is a shotgun." Wrex had said as he took the human shotgun back from Tali, throwing it back after he had grunted, getting the Marine's attention to catch. "Not like that toy. All you got to do is point and shoot, and it'll do you good."

Wrex had made this weapon look like a pistol in his hands, however in Tali's? More like a rocket launcher, and she struggled, despite her recent strength training.

Wrex had looked to the corner of his eye. Mai had been standing there, arms crossed, wondering what he was doing. More than she would ever do for this kid, he thought.

"It's-"

"Heavy. Yeah, I know. That's the point. Reduces recoil."

Tali motioned with her wrist to activate her omni. "There's barely any electronics in this." In most mass effect-based weaponry, electronics did play a part in recoil mitigation; that only meant, Tali realized, Wrex had born the brunt of each shot readily, and he had handled it as if it was nothing at all.

"To shoot a gun, to use a weapon, is a very base instinct. This, and many Krogan weapons like it, are more in touch with that simpler way of thinking." He crossed his arms, leaning against one of the lockers on his side to that locker's pain. "I've seen the way those Humans, and the Turian, teach you about weapon manipulation but-"

Tali let the gun slowly down, her arms about to give, its barrel touching the steel floor. Wrex had paused as it did, Tali realizing her mistake as she held it up again.

"The best type of weapon is one that'll fight you." Wrex glanced again at Mai, knowing she had heard it. "Because once you tame it, all that fight is gonna go somewhere."

Tali was silent as he looked up at Wrex, he looking down at her and his shotgun. "This is heavy, Wrex."

"Hold onto it." He snarled at her, and she did, cradling it almost. "What do you want again?"

Those eyes burned behind her visors. They burned everytime she had gunned down a Geth, knew it the best thing she could be doing with her time on the Normandy. Knew it would make her father proud.

"Teach me how you use a shotgun."

Wrex snorted. "That's not what you want."

"Then what can you give, Krogan?" There was aggravation in her voice as she struggled to keep the shotgun in her hands.

So they had trained afterwards, Wrex finally given something to do as he taught Tali the very basics of a type of visceral combat that was heir to the Krogan way of life. It was almost as if, Mai realized now, that she was taking from everyone she could. It was very Quarian of her, after all: to take notes from the Krogan, the Turian, the Humans, on how to fight. It was an eventuality that she still asked of the two enigmas of the well deck.

JD had been snoozing, but her words woke him as Mai waited for his entry into the question.

"The slings?" JD spoke, putting the conversation into his head as he jostled himself awake, glancing at his SMG, partially disassembled on his workbench. Of that, slings had been taped on the front and back of it. The same had been said of Mai's DMR.

As an ODST, he had preferred it. Being jostled around as he was the magnetic holds on his backpack or even his holster wasn't always ideal. Slings had been used for centuries before him, and if it still worked, it wasn't outdated per se. Here those magnetic holster principles combined with the compartmentalization of firearms had made his own preferences seem even more dated, but still, the habits stuck.

Mai rose her hands for a moment, before her eyes had darted down to her rifle in her locker. As JD rose to stand besides her, she went back, grabbing it, slinging it around her form. It was loose on her, given that it was adjusted for her inside MJOLNIR, however the principle was still the same.

"I can… demonstrate. Chief Durante?"

There was a pang of fear in his heart as he realized Mai was walking toward the rollout mats that the Marines sparred on. He had never sparred with a Spartan, and memories of those broken Alliance N-operators on the Montenegro came back to him. Though another thought rose to him.

He trusted her.

He had tapped her elbow before she left arm's length, she turning around as his index finger hooked once before pointing at her, pointing down, then bringing both his hands together in fists and making thumbs in opposite directions, both hands going flat afterwards.

DO YOU NEED ANYTHING

Her thin mouth ghosted No.

How naturally she had understood it. There was a pang of pride within JD that she had been learning well enough, he following her as the meek crowd began to gather. It was Mai's first time on the mat, or the "ring" as many of the Marines off hand called it. JD had wondered where Garrus was, but one sweep and he realized he must've been with Kaiden out on the current deployment.

The mat hadn't been too big, just big enough for people to throw themselves around without hitting the steel floor, which was enough for grapples and tosses. JD took to one side as Mai found the other.

If he had to fight her, what would he do? Lesser men had tried, and failed. What chance did he have as-

Mai looked directly into his eyes. "React."

She pressed forward with her rifle towards him, violently.

Instinctually JD had raised his hands up, shifting head left as his arms banged the side of her DMR, dragging it down.

Spartan Time.

Mai had felt the hit of combat, fake as it was, impact her mind. The way each Marine around was standing, the way Wrex stood over all of them, curiously watching, eye lashes and where they all were looking, minutiae that made the difference was taken in excruciatingly by her as she felt JD knock her gun down. It would never be enough strength to actually knock it out of her hand, and in this situation she probably would've just pulled the trigger and send a shot into his gut, but for demonstration's sake she-

The gun collapsed out of her hand, however it went taut and hung over her midsection as Mai's hands instead found new purpose: JD used both his arms to deflect, so her left hand had grabbed both of them, binding them together as her right arm barred across his chest and she pushed forward. She put some pull on JD's arms up, not wanting the impact of his back against the mat to be that bad, but there was weight to it as it happened.

Her hands had left him as her knee took its place on his chest, grabbing back her gun and aiming up, sweeping the room.

"Retention." She finally said, looking at Tali as she kneeled on JD's chest. "Without a sling, if a weapon is knocked out of my hand, it would be knocked out of my reach. Even if I deal with a hostile who forced it out of my hand, I'd be momentarily without a weapon."

"Ah." Tali nodded her head, "How often does one get close enough to do that?"

Mai tilted her head a bit. "For me? Common."

She felt some patting on her knee. "Mai." A pained breath.

She sucked in some breath of her own as she forgot to get off JD, the pressure on his chest a little much. It was as much of a wakeup as anything.

"CQC?" One of the Hitmen had asked. It was the purple scarf wearing Marine: Loke. She had been most friendly to Tali, if anything. They were of the same size, so a lot of pointers had been given by her to the Quarian. "You know it?"

Mai looked to the speaker the mental note made unconsciously: She was the same sort of brown as her. She still hadn't gotten off of JD.

"Mai please."

"Oh." The Spartan had gotten off the ODST, he standing up again after taking a breath.

"Anything else?"

Mai had given her short, spoken lecture further. Just her preference, and JD's by extension, on having a sling. Recoil management wasn't as much of an issue for her, but JD explained further, gesturing to Mai's rifle. She had allowed him to have it as he slung it around himself. "Stay still?" He whispered to her, and she did. "Let's say that you're on cover, and you need a steady base to make a shot." He had then wrapped the slack of the sling around his left arm holding the head of the sling where it connected to the gun. "Pretend she's cover."

"Ain't she cover to you anyway?" A Marine leered.

He ignored as he pressed against Mai's arm, pulling the sling taut as the rifle's bore was against her arm.

"Stabilizing base."

Mai nodded in agreement, even as she was used as a prop. It wasn't as if she hadn't been described as a wall before.

"Can I try?" Tali asked, arms out.

Mai had answered for her. "Not me."

Tali had gotten the implication. JD was allowed that contact. Not anyone else.

It was basic stuff that the two had just demonstrated, but it was enumerated skills. Skills that were picked up, not explicitly taught save for experience. Experience that many of them there had, but not the mind to teach Tali outright. Still JD could empathize. He had been in her place once: thrust into a type of warfighter grade above what he had been trained for initially.

"We're picking up the fireteam now. Next fireteam get ready ASAP." The intercom from Joker had rung out. That just meant JD and Mai were next out with a token group. They were assigned as leads. It was perhaps a daunting task, but nothing that they couldn't do. As much as it was to his ire, it just meant that JD was lead.

He breathed out tiredly as he spotted his people. Shepard had decided the fireteam compositions out, they just had to play ball.

"Tali, Loke, Doc. Ready up." To be in the command position now, it made his voice just a little deeper by instinct. It struck him weird, if anything.

The three individuals called out had nodded respectfully. Mai didn't need to be called, still she needed her help.

Her armor hadn't been collecting dust in its locker, if only because Mai had diligently gone over its details with a rake every day, but this was the longest, to her, it felt as if she had been without it on. To put it back on again, help would've been nice.

The ODST BDU was donned in short order, JD zipping the seals and activating his HUD as he had all his life. Mai had awaited him however, she getting the parts of her armor out. What privilege did he have nowadays, to bear witness to something like a Spartan. His privilege went deeper.

"Sorry, by the way." Mai's voice was muffled through his hearing protection. Her eyes avoided him, but she went on. "For using you."

"It's fine. Just give me a heads up? Yeah?"

"Okay." There was a nod there, soft as it was, before it went away and Mai slipped into her suit's shoes, her Alliance uniform sliding off as she was left with just her skintight tech suit "Still remember?"

Did he still remember how to help her put on MJOLNIR? He could try, taking her leg armor shell and kneeling before her. He knew what this looked like to any watching, especially as his hands formed around her leg, clamping the armor together as he felt for the magnetic latches to kick in. At crotch level he had tried to avoid staring forward, but looking up had presented a certain view that she had covered up as she put on her chest armor, leaving JD to deal with anything below her waist.

There was no way he could take this as anything but technical assistance, he told himself. Not as a red-blooded man who had made it a recent life goal to see this woman as nothing but human and anything that that entailed. Nothing complicated about that as he gingerly placed the armor at the base of her spine and damned him for the variance that made him shift up or down.

"My helmet?" JD had finished around the same time Mai had, locking some of the last mechanical bits with her knife. She had gestured toward that distinctive helmet, in her locker. The Alliance had held against giving her the same red accents as they did his armor, probably out of fear of upsetting her, but still that just meant the impression of a ghost was with her in color. Wolf grey, colluding with shadows.

He picked up her helmet, but slowed himself as he took a step back toward her waiting.

The suit gave her a few more inches, now truly towering over him. He looked up though, and she looked down. Something felt… off, now. Seeing him with that ODST helmet on. It was JD behind it, sure, but she had become used to seeing him; his face. Hesitation was in JD's hands as he held the helmet back for a second, looking at Mai's face.

Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be. A small private moment that they knew had washed over them as JD finally gave her her helmet and she in turn felt that same hesitation. "I won't… keep it on, always." She bit a piece of the flesh in her mouth as she said it, unsure of what she was saying, but still compelled to talk those words anyway.

He nodded. Donning the uniform, his voice disappeared, actions dictated his answers.

Did Mai prefer him like that? She couldn't quite say as she glanced to her side. A few Marines were looking, and her gaze cast them away as she finally put back on that helmet. The return to her filled her with some obtuse refreshment in her lungs, however it was muted now, finding the ODST in front of her.

Even a universe away, JD thought as he stepped back, how much had things really changed? They were still expected to wear this armor, be who they were trained to be.

Where did change come from then? A question he thought of as he looked at a Spartan, and a Spartan looked through him.
Tali had taken one of her discarded fabrics from her suit, wringing it tight before wrapping it around her newly acquired shotgun, borrowed from Wrex ("Lose it and you'll be my servant for the rest of your short life, welp."). Shepard had stood besides Joker as the Normandy zoomed through the planet's atmosphere, en route to pick up Kaiden and his fireteam, her fingers making indents into the pilot's chair as her mind was a thousand miles away.

His father had an answer, and he heard his voice in his head.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same, Jay-Jay."