XIV

Auld Lang Syne: A Cup of Kindness

Watching Miranda now, there was a bitter taste in Garrus's mouth, a hot ball of hate in his chest and throat. Not for her. Lawson looked lost, dazed. Her face was drawn, and she paced the elevator floor, muttering to herself. "Maybe the captain knows we're listening in and she's feeding misinformation about Niket making a switch. Or maybe it means something else. Niket wouldn't do that." She kicked the elevator console, frustrated. "Dammit, why won't this thing go any faster!?"

It's like getting your legs kicked out from under you. Like falling off a cliff. Shepard leaned up against the wall. "You're reaching, Miranda, and you know it," she said quietly. "I think it's a pattern for you. What makes you so sure Niket wouldn't turn on you?"

Miranda looked up, furious. "He could have turned on me when I ran away! I'm sure my father tried to buy him off. If he didn't do it then, why would he do it now?"

Why? There was never an answer that was good enough. No excuse that could cut it. But the timing—Garrus glanced at Taylor. Lawson had played things so close to her chest that the one guy she trusted on the Normandy, her friend, hadn't known she had a sister. Had she been any more open with Niket? "Did Niket know that you took Oriana from your father?" he asked.

Miranda had been tearing a hole in the floor with her high-heeled boots. Now her pacing stopped dead. "No, he just found out about that recently," she answered. "It was too personal to involve someone else. I never really thought about it . . ." her brow knit. "But maybe . . . no." She swept her arms out and turned away. "He'd have to understand why I did it," she told them. "He knows what I went through."

"I guess we'll find out when we catch up with him," Taylor said. "You probably shouldn't sweat it too much until then."

Miranda tried to smile. "It's me. Do you really think I could manage it?" The elevator dinged, and she set her shoulders. "Let's go. I want to have a word with this Captain Enyala."

"We're with you," Jacob promised her.

They all followed Miranda out of the elevator. Garrus saw the final cargo elevator over on the other side—where spaceport workers would usually take the luggage assigned to a particular voyage to its hold. On the right, there was another queue and a window, but it was closed. There were no sirens, but a violet light was flashing on the wall. Lockdown. They'd set off alarms in the cargo yards, personnel had been evacuated, and the ships were probably shut down until a security team made a sweep and gave the all clear. One advantage of ops on hub worlds with legal systems—even dysfunctional ones. Less risk civilians will get caught in the crossfire.

The checked crates and luggage were stacked around the waiting room. They'd never made it up to the waiting ship above. And in the center of the room, a human man with auburn hair was arguing with an asari transport official he'd somehow managed to find or detain. He was unarmed, seemed to be nearer forty than thirty. "Listen to me," he said. "I've got authorization to change their booking."

The asari in the transportation uniform was examining a map on a datapad. "I'm sorry sir," she said without even looking at him. "We're under security lockdown. Until the situation in the cargo terminal is resolved, no passengers can be rebooked."

There was another asari sitting on a crate nearby. Her scalp was dyed red, she wore an Eclipse uniform, and she was examining a mean shotgun. Garrus's visor picked up illegal shredder mods on it from here. "This isn't worth my time, Niket," the asari complained. Garrus recognized Enyala's voice. "I get paid regardless of how the girl gets there."

Some of her mercs had had standards, it seemed. The guy at the entrance to the cargo yard had possessed some sort of code, but Garrus could tell at a glance Enyala was more of the same scum he'd seen on Omega. Oh, she'd worked within the law so far, because it was easy. But she no more cared about Lawson's kid sister than any other package in the yard.

"No," Niket protested. "I was told that I could handle this my way. We're not traumatizing the family any more than we—" Miranda cleared her throat. He turned, saw her. Squinted. His entire face changed. "Miri."

Enyala sat up straight. "This should be fun." The transportation official took in the scene—four people armed and ready for a fight coming in. She started to back away, turned. Ran. Without so much as a blink, Enyala turned and shot her in the back. Fury, cold as ice, filled Garrus's head. The transportation official had been completely uninvolved, just doing her job. An unarmed civilian. But he could see other Eclipse mercs filing in around the yard—Enyala's guards. He and Taylor faced out, keeping them covered, while Miranda stared down Niket.

"Niket. You sold me out."

"How do you want to handle this, Miranda?" Shepard said, keeping an eye on the incoming mercs.

Miranda wasn't listening to her. "Why, Niket?" she demanded, raging at the helpless-looking man. "You were my friend. You helped me get away from my father."

Niket looked torn between guilt and resolve. "Yes, because you wanted to leave," he said firmly. "That was your choice. But if I'd known that you'd stolen a baby . . ."

"I didn't steal her!" Miranda cried. "I rescued her!"

Niket's face contorted, colored. "From a life of wealth and happiness? You weren't saving her! You were getting back at your father!"

That was it, then. Lawson may have thought Niket understood her, and he probably had been her friend, but when she'd run away from her father, he hadn't understood that at all. Probably even felt she betrayed him. Doubly so when he found out about Oriana.

Shepard was trying to reason with him. "Whether or not you agree with Miranda, Oriana has been with her family for years now," she said.

"Her father can still give her a better life," Niket argued.

"You don't know what my father wants for her!" Miranda snapped.

Niket raised his chin. "I know that I've been poor, Miri. I didn't much care for it."

Miranda gestured toward Enyala. "He wants to take a girl away from the only family she's ever known. Doesn't that tell you what he really is?" she challenged him.

Shepard interrupted again, calmly. "How did Miranda's father turn you?" she asked.

Niket kept his eyes on Miranda, and directed his answer to her. "They told me you'd kidnapped your baby sister all those years ago. They said I could help get her back peacefully, no trauma to the family." His eyes danced with anger. "I told them you'd never do that; they could go to hell! Then you finally told me what you'd done. I called them back that night."

Miranda's eyes shone. She was close to tears. Garrus imagined the sick feeling in her stomach, the disbelief as she looked at someone she'd trusted—and had betrayed her. "Why didn't you call me, Niket?!" she asked him. "We've been through a lot. You could've at least let me explain!"

Niket's fists clenched at his sides. "I deserved to know that you'd stolen your sister, Miri!" he retorted. "I deserved to know that you were with Cerberus! But I had to hear it from your father first!"

He was so self-righteous, but Shepard cut to the chase. "How much did he pay you?" she said flatly.

Niket's face fell, and the guilt and regret came back to his face. "A great deal," he muttered finally.

Lawson's old friend was no Sidonis. He was no murderer. Unlike Enyala, it was possible there really was a part of him that thought he was trying to do the right thing for Miranda's sister. But at bottom, he'd betrayed her for petty revenge and a big payout. Taylor was mad about Miranda's secrets too—but in the end he was trusting that she had reasons for what she did. He wasn't running around trying to get her back for not telling him the things he thought she should have.

Tears were running down Miranda's face. Her gun shook in her hands. "Damn it, Niket! You were the only one I trusted from that life."

Niket couldn't meet her eyes. "He knew you felt that way. That's why he bought me."

"So you just took his money," Miranda spat.

He flared up again. "Don't get holy with me, Miri. You took his money for years."

"What about you?" Shepard asked Enyala. "You're really okay with this? I knew Eclipse was willing to get their hands dirty, but kidnapping a kid?"

"Don't waste your time, Shepard," Garrus told her under his breath.

Enyala stood. "I'm not stealing her. I'm rescuing her," she told Shepard. She glanced at them all. "And there's nothing you or Archangel or Mr. Dark and Handsome can do about it. Come on, Niket. Let's finish this bitch off and get out of here."

Miranda's biotics flared. "Take your best shot."

Enyala's lip curled. "I was just waiting for you to finish getting dressed. Or does Cerberus really let you whore around in that outfit?"

Miranda tensed, but Shepard held up a hand. "If you're working for Miranda's father, that means he knows about Oriana. We need to find a new solution."

Niket slumped. "Miranda's father has no information about Oriana," he admitted. "I knew you had spy programs in your father's system, Miri, so I kept it private. I took his mercs and tracked her down on my own. I'm the only one who knows."

Miranda looked sick, and three more tears slipped down her face, but her gun hand was steady now. "Which means that you're the only loose end," she said. "This isn't how I wanted it to end, Niket—"

She raised her weapon, and Shepard lunged over and seized her wrist. Miranda gasped in surprise, and threw her off, outraged at the interruption. "You don't want to do this!" Shepard told her.

"This has to end here, Shepard," Miranda told her. "My father will keep trying to find Oriana."

Shepard shot a glance at the human man opposite them, challenging him. He seemed to be a halfway decent guy, and she wanted to save him, if she could. "Maybe Niket can help. Talk to your father, just say you got here first."

Niket knew he couldn't run. Enyala and her Eclipse had him covered on the one side, all of their people had him covered on the other. He stammered for a moment, then agreed. "I'll tell him that you hid her, that I don't know where she is," he finally said.

Miranda stared at him for a long, long moment. Her blue eyes sparked with biotics and tears. "I never want to see you again, Niket—"

She was cut off when Enyala, seeing she could no longer count on her partner, abruptly put an end to the partnership. His face contorted with surprise and pain right before he fell forward to the floor. Blood pooled beneath his unarmored torso. Garrus saw his completely severed spine in the blast wound.

"Done," Enyala said curtly. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a shipment to deliver."

Miranda lit up blue, enraged. "You'll die for that, bitch!" she cried. She threw a roiling ball of dark energy at Enyala, but Enyala diverted it with her own biotics, throwing it back at Shepard and Garrus. They dived to the side, and Taylor charged forward, firing his shotgun at the empty air. Enyala had already hurled herself behind cover, and her people had opened fire.

Shepard dropped low, her omni-tool flashed, and she faded from view. Garrus saw her heat signature moving swiftly to the right flank, so he went left. He weighed the Mattock in his hands, peering through the scope. It had a kick almost equal to his sniper rifle—fire too rapidly, and he'd lose stability. Three of the guards were stationed by the cargo elevator, one crouched low behind a trunk with a rifle. Garrus zigzagged, moving at a run that was harder to trace than a jog. He took up position by the left wall. A concussive blast knocked the sniper out of cover, took out his shields. He heard a rifle shot across the room—Shepard's Mantis, heard competing shotgun fire. He fell flat, feeling an asari's biotic attack ripple over his head, came up on one knee, took aim, and pulsed the trigger of the Mattock twice. The first spun the sniper nearly sixty degrees to the right. He cried out, and his cry was cut short by the second shot. A shot impacted against Garrus's shields but didn't take them down. He crouched deeper into cover. Pistol fire from the biotic. She probably had several more shots in her clip—but the biotics were a bigger worry. He leaned out of cover in time to see her throwing her arm back, and fired a shot into her right shoulder—the heavy muscle that controlled a lot of biotic throws, before firing two more to drop her. The third guy's head snapped to the left. His brains hit the wall with an audible smack, and he collapsed to the ground—a perfect shot over all the seats and luggage from the far side of the oblong room.

"I'm the showboat?" he muttered over the radio. "I had him."

"Maybe next time you'll have him faster," Shepard murmured back. He heard the smile in her voice—and the strain. "Move to the back and toward the center. We'll come up behind her."

Her was Enyala. She was gasping, the last of her guards dead, using biotics to rocket away from the center of the room toward the edge. Garrus saw two asari dead there, shotgun blasts to their torsos and limbs at odd angles evidence of Taylor and Lawson's fight.

Enyala was trembling, sweating, crouched behind some waiting room chairs on the right. She groaned, and an orb of biotic energy slammed into the space between Lawson and Taylor. They threw themselves away from the blast, and Enyala fired a wide shot that vaporized on Lawson's barrier—but at the impact, the barrier flickered and died, and Miranda stumbled. Taylor caught her and thrust her behind an armored crate, following quickly, and another shotgun blast hit the metal with an audible bang.

Both Taylor and Lawson were done, completely tapped out and exhausted, unable to throw as much as a simple biotic punch. But they still had their resources. Beside Garrus, Shepard's omni-tool flashed. A blazing arc of fire soared over the chairs Enyala was using for cover. She saw it coming, and with a cry, leapt over the chairs, but she tripped and fell flat on her face. Biotics still crackled around her, but they were unstable, flickering and fading away. Shepard would have waited for her to get up—so Garrus took the shot.

Enyala's body skidded across the stone warehouse floor, then came to a stop. And Miranda walked around the crate, alongside the vivid, glistening stripe of violet, and came to stand over the corpse. Tears were still running down her sunburned nose. She bit her lip, blinked hard, and kicked the asari, viciously, so that she rolled over and her empty eyes stared at the ceiling. Miranda fired three rounds into her face, and slowly, let her pistol fall. She swallowed, straightened. "There could be more Eclipse mercs near the shuttle," she said. "I want to make sure Oriana and her family get on safely."

"Miranda—" Taylor started, reaching for her.

She stiffened, and walked away without looking at him. "Don't start, Jacob. It's fine." They walked into the elevator out—the one that led to the docking bay. She paused after pushing the button. "It's not," she admitted, voice heavy with fatigue. "I can't believe Niket sold me out. I didn't even see it coming."

"No one ever does," Garrus murmured. She glanced at him, and her expression softened.

"I suppose you're right."

"Even with all your upgrades, you can still make mistakes," Shepard told her.

Her fists clenched at her sides, and she looked over at Shepard. "But I let it get personal, and I screwed up! Why didn't you let me kill him? I could've handled that. But watching him get gunned down by that asari bitch—"her voice broke off in another sob, and she shook her head violently, thrust her chin up.

Shepard shook her head. "He was paid to do it, but Niket was doing what he thought was the right thing to do. And you still cared about him, even if he betrayed you."

"If you'd taken him out, you would've wished you hadn't," Jacob agreed. "It was the right call."

Miranda looked away. "You're right, and my father knew it," she said. "It's always been like this. My father gave me anything I ever wanted, but there was always a hook, an angle for his long-term plan. I threw everything he ever gave me when I ran. Except Niket. Weakness on my part?"

It wasn't really a question for any of them, but Shepard answered it anyway. "I don't know. If it's weakness, it's a weakness I understand. But Miranda—"she hesitated. "Living like that, tossing aside everything you care about—or might care about—just to be safe? It's not really living." She wasn't looking at Miranda, either. Instead, she stared at the empty corner of the elevator, arms half-crossed, shoulders raised. Somehow, I don't think she's talking about Lawson.

But Miranda took it as a warning. "It's okay, Shepard," she assured the younger woman. "My father hurt me, but he didn't break me. As much as he tried to turn me into exactly what he wanted, I'm my own person."

Shepard pressed her lips together, but didn't answer directly. "Any other old friends your father might use against you?" she asked.

Lawson shook her head. "No. I cut ties with everyone else. Anyone I'm close to now works for Cerberus." She paused, and looked hard at Taylor, then back at Shepard. "Or you. I think I'm starting to realize that's not exactly the same thing. My father's powerful, but he won't cross the Illusive Man. And he should think twice before crossing you."

"You still have Oriana," Shepard told her.

Miranda smiled wearily. "My father didn't give her to me. I rescued her. But yes, you're right. I still have something. Thank you."

The elevator stopped and opened onto the dock. They looked around. Civilians were everywhere, waiting for the shuttles to start moving again. But there were no guns, not a single black 'E' on yellow to be seen. "Looks like we're clear," Taylor said. "Home free."

"There she is," Miranda said. Her voice was different than Garrus had ever heard it. Soft and unsure. He followed her gaze to a human girl chatting with two older humans, male and female. All were dressed Citadel-style in the latest Council-race fashions. Shining, luxury carry-ons were piled up next to them. Miranda had clearly taken good care of her sister when she'd selected her adoptive guardians. The girl herself was clearly Miranda's twin, but the differences in their lives were obvious, from the tan that said the girl hadn't spent a lot of time in space, to her up-to-the-minute bob and makeup and the easy smile on her face. Here there were no flashing violet lights, no clue about what had gone down beneath the port to alarm the affluent charter ship passengers. "She's safe," Miranda said. "With her family."

She stiffened, trying to pull the vestiges of her professionalism around her like a coat. "Come on. We should go."

Shepard was watching her. "Don't you even want to say hello?" she asked.

"It's not about what I want, it's about what's right for her," Miranda protested. "The less she knows about me, the better. She's got a family. A life. I'll just complicate that for her."

Shepard looked back at the happy family. There was something in her face Garrus couldn't identify, but suddenly, somehow she seemed much younger. He could almost imagine her, a thin, bony kid Oriana's age in an oversized Alliance T-shirt, her yellow hair plaited back in a rope, standing alone in a dock like this one back on Earth, clutching a battered old bag very unlike Oriana's sleek, matching suitcases to her side, and trying to ignore her fellow recruits all around her as they said goodbye to their parents, siblings, and friends. All the people she'd never had.

"If she's your twin," Shepard said, "She's figured out she comes from somewhere else. Miranda—tell her." Her voice was quiet. "I don't know why my mom walked out on me. But when I was a kid, I'd've killed to hear she did it for me instead of what I actually found out. She doesn't need to know any details, but would it be so bad for Oriana to know she's got a sister who loves her?"

Miranda stared at Shepard. She half-raised her hand, then dropped it. "Shepard—you're right."

"Go on. We'll wait here," Shepard told her.

Taylor came up to stand next to her as Miranda walked away. "I never got as deep into your file as she did. Your parents left?"

Shepard wouldn't look at them, and after a second, she looked away from Miranda and Oriana too. "Never even saw my dad, and my mom left before I was ten minutes old. Yeah. I wasn't as lucky as Oriana. I didn't have a sister to find me a family. And no one ever picked me on their own." She didn't need subharmonics to telegraph the loneliness in her voice—decades old and so deep it went right through her. Garrus kept his mouth shut. If he spoke, he'd resonate for sure, and she wasn't asking for pity or sympathy here—just giving the answer to Taylor's question. The facts of her life. Somehow that just makes it worse.

Jacob shifted. "That's rough. But I know how you feel. My dad was never around growing up. You get used to going it on your own, I guess." He jerked his head at Oriana in the distance as she turned to face her sister, wide-eyed. "Good on you for making sure the kiddo never has to deal with that. There's enough screwed-up families in the galaxy." He glanced at Garrus. "How about you, Vakarian? Where are your parents?"

Great. Let's swap depressing backstories. He waited to answer until he knew for sure he could answer evenly, playing it off like he was thinking about Miranda and her sister too. "My folks are back on Palaven, along with my younger sister. Pretty sure I'm the most screwed-up part of my family narrative. Sorry to disappoint."

Jacob smiled. "Hey, you're dysfunction enough to screw up an entire family on your own. I can feel it. You talk to them much?"

"Sometimes."

"Your dad was on the Citadel last I heard," Shepard said, looking over at him again. "He retire in the past two years?"

"He took a position closer to home," Garrus confirmed. "I guess now Solana's out on her own, he wanted to be there for Mom."

Of course, if that was it, he'd've been home seven years ago, Garrus didn't say. The last thing he needed was for Shepard and the others to find out about his mom. Not with Lawson already feeling he might be too unstable to keep the pace as it was.

"Nice that he's committed to his family like that," Taylor said. "Came back when it counted. Better than a lot of guys."

"Castis Vakarian always does his duty, alright," Garrus said under his breath.

Jacob finally got the hint. "Not on the best terms with the guy, huh? I get that too. Fair enough. So you guys have any plans for shore leave—or don't we get that?" he asked Shepard.

She scoffed. Seemed relieved to have changed the subject. "You can take your ass off right now if you feel like it, Mr. Taylor. Shootout's over with. Get a snack. Go get drunk. Get laid, if you can. I'll call you if I need you to pick up Krios or Samara."

Taylor arched an eyebrow at her tone. His eyes gleamed. "Please. I got no problems with the ladies, Shepard," Taylor said. He backpedaled quickly. "Commander."

She waved a hand without even looking at him. Garrus tried not to feel too smug at the irritated expression on Taylor's face. "Uh-huh."

Taylor stepped just a little closer to her. "The real question is what you're doing with your free time, Commander."

Garrus broke in mildly. "I'm going shopping, if anyone's interested. I'll give Cerberus this over the Alliance: you guys actually pay. And since I seem to have walked off Omega without any of my personal effects, and going back to pick them up may not be the best idea—"

"To say the least," Shepard murmured, amused.

"Figure I ought to pick up a couple off-duty outfits," Garrus finished. "Maybe get this thing patched." He gestured at the hole in the neck of his hardsuit.

"Or get a new one entirely," Shepard suggested. "I'm always worried one of the thugs we face won't be a complete idiot and notice you've got a gaping hole in your armor. You know Mom hates visitors to her med bay."

"And the wrath of Karin Chakwas is a terrible thing to behold," Garrus deadpanned.

Shepard jerked her head at Miranda, headed back toward them. She walked to meet her. "Alright?" she said gently.

Miranda was crying again. She nodded once. "Better than I've been in a long time. Thank you," she said again. "Really." Impulsively, she reached out and gripped Shepard and Jacob's wrists. She pressed them both, let go. She turned to Garrus, and gave him another nod, and the four of them turned to head back to the Normandy.


Miranda was quiet on the way back to the Normandy, but when they dropped their guns off in the armory, she called to him before he could head to the showers. "Garrus."

He stopped in the hallway between the briefing room, the armory, and Mordin's lab, and turned to face her. She was wringing her hands, nervous. Couldn't look him in the eye. "I wanted to thank you especially," she said. "I didn't want you to come along to help Oriana. Maybe you didn't want to come along, either. We haven't always been friendly. But you put your security on the line to save my sister's. That means a lot."

"Archangel?" Garrus shrugged. "It was always going to get out sooner or later. Unless I retired. And that wasn't going to happen. It's a miracle no one's connected the dots already. Maybe we got those two salarians by the elevator up to Enyala."

"But maybe we didn't," Miranda said. "And maybe someone got a message out. We have to be prepared for increased hostility from the mercenaries out here in the Terminus."

Garrus bowed his head. "Got a bit too visible there at the end on Omega. They tagged me with Shepard. Maybe I should lay low for a bit."

"I'd love to agree with you," Miranda said frankly. "But I don't know how much it would help to leave Shepard fighting Archangel's war without Archangel. If word got out, they know she saved you now. They'll want her as much as they want you. You started this, and you're going to have to help us deal with the consequences. She'll worry, but she'll need you more than ever." She made a face, and Garrus knew it still burned her up to say that.

Garrus sighed. "Shepard always worries. I'm not sure how hot a target we'll be, though. The leaders of these organizations—the ones that are left, anyway—they're not stupid. They can't be. Hard to turn a profit chasing two people that aren't actively working to bring you down anymore, especially when everyone you've ever sent before has wound up dead. If we run into Eclipse, Blue Suns, or the Blood Pack—"his mandibles contracted, and he corrected himself. "When we run into them, it'll probably be like it was today. Everyone shooting at me and Shepard, making it that much easier for the rest of you to take them out. Amateurs."

"Don't let yourself get cocky," Miranda warned. "Even amateurs can get lucky."

Garrus looked down. "I know." He paused. "Lawson—about your friend. I'm sorry."

Her fists clinched, and she nodded once before she could speak. "So am I."