Val left the lab fifteen minutes later, her headache still a dull throb at the back of her skull. Alex and EDI and Talitha had a plan to analyze the signal they'd traced, filtering out planets that couldn't support life or the power output necessary for whatever device the Leviathan were using. She'd only distract them if she stayed in the lab. They'd message her when they knew something.
Speaking of which... she checked her omni-tool and frowned. Still nothing from Garrus. Had the Hierarchy been keeping him occupied this whole time?
Then again, it had only been a couple of hours since she'd messaged him. The sun was only just sinking toward the horizon, leaving darkness to gather across the sky. She rubbed the back of her neck, grimacing. She felt like she had spent hours under the Levithan's cold gaze, and the chill still lingered in the pit of her stomach.
James caught up with her only a few strides from the lab. "What's the next step, Shepard?"
Val hesitated. Her nerves felt taut; in spite of the cold and the headache, restless energy fizzed under her skin. She couldn't just sit and wait for news. Better to get their plans moving and ready to roll when that location came through. "Any idea where I'd find Cortez at this hour?"
"Probably out having a beer," James said. "You wanna bring him in too?"
"Is this going to sound too crazy for him?" That was the only problem she could see. As far as she knew, James and Steve were close in this reality, too. James ought to be able to predict Steve's reactions better than anyone else.
James screwed up his face, thinking. "Nah," he said finally. "I mean, sure, it's gonna sound loco, but Esteban's not as buttoned-down as he looks. The man's a fighter pilot first. He wants to be in on the action." He gave her a sharp look. "You're not leaving me out, right?"
She grinned at him, slantwise. "Who do you think's on my ground team, Vega? Of course I'm not leaving you out." You, me, and Vega, she'd told Garrus. Their chances were slim enough as it was. She wanted James at her back, almost as much as she wanted Garrus. [With the right people on your side, you could do the impossible. Having the two of them with her, having Steve's steady presence at the helm, felt like its own kind of armor.]
James grinned back, lighting up. "Hell yeah you're not."
"Then let's go get ourselves a pilot." Her heart rate picked up a notch. No more thinking around in circles; she had a goal now. She'd recruited a whole team for a surefire suicide mission. She could do this. Besides, in a strange way, she felt like she owed Steve the chance to come on board. Her crew had believed in her before, in spite of all the hits her reputation had taken. They'd followed her into the worst places in the galaxy. There was a better than even chance that they'd remember that, somehow, in some hazy and confusing way. She wanted to give him the chance to believe in her again.
They set off, matching strides, and James was right, they found Steve at the bar. The only complication was, he wasn't alone.
"Huh," James muttered under his breath, as they spotted Steve at a table with Misha, their heads close together. "You still gonna do this?"
She was obviously going to be interrupting a date. But Alex and EDI could get back to her any time, and when they did, she'd need her people on board. Val sighed and started across the room.
They saw her coming, of course. Misha gave her a hard stare that said go away, sis as she threaded her way toward them. She kept going regardless, putting on a smile before she got to their table.
"Val!" Misha said with forced cheer. "What's up?"
"Hey, guys," she said.
"Hey, Commander," Steve said easily. Want to have a seat?"
She couldn't read from Steve's tone whether he was as annoyed about her intrusion as Misha was. No point in backing out now, though. "Actually, could I borrow you for a moment, Steve? I'd like to have a word."
Misha frowned. "Seriously? Now?"
"Sure," Steve said. He looked puzzled but obligingly started getting up. "We'll just be a few minutes, right?"
"Maybe a little more than a few," she admitted.
Misha's eyes narrowed. "No, wait, before that, I need to have a word with my sister."
Steve, already out of his seat, hesitated. "O... kay."
"Don't worry about it, Esteban, I'll fill you in." James, following in Val's wake, slung an arm around Steve's shoulders and steered him toward the door. Val winced; as much as she trusted James, she'd wanted to read Steve in herself.
Misha grabbed her sleeve, though, and hissed at her, "What is this? Just because you're my big sister doesn't give you the right to do some big posturing warning, so cut it out."
"What?" She grimaced. "It's not that, this has nothing to do with you."
"It's not?" Misha's scowl relaxed. Curiosity replaced irritation in his eyes. "What is it, then?"
Val stiffened. Talking to her crew and giving them a chance to stand by her was one thing. Her family... that was another story. To Misha, she was just his sister, not the Commander Shepard. She wasn't any kind of hero. The idea that the whole universe had warped around her had to be too much to believe. It was almost too much for Alex to believe, and Alex had been there the whole time.
She barely knew him, when it came right down to it. Family affection felt like a fuzzy, nebulous concept: a hazy childhood memory, a greeting-card bit of schmaltz. Nothing sturdy enough to risk everything on. The idea of his curiosity turning to confusion or horror, of him talking to their mother, or worse, Alliance brass... just thinking about it made her palms sweat. "I can't tell you. It's a mission briefing."
Hurt flashed over his face for an instant, and then the annoyance was back. "Come on, Val, I'm not stupid. You're not giving someone a mission during happy hour."
"Sorry," she said, keeping her voice flat and level. "I can't tell you. You're going to have to trust me on that."
He snorted, letting go her arm. "Whatever." He dropped back into this seat, scowling. When she hesitated, he flicked a hand at her. "Go on, go have your super-secret conversation."
She exhaled, frustration tightening her shoulders and the back of her neck. She didn't want to leave things this way, but she didn't want to have to see the look in his eyes when he decided she'd lost her mind, either. "I'll talk to you later," she offered.
Misha picked up his beer, his jaw tightening. "Sure," he said after a moment.
It seemed like the best she was getting. And it was for the best, she told herself as she headed toward the door. She'd fix this later, if she had to.
James and Steve stood outside, two dark shapes lingering in sight of the door but out of earshot, recognizable mostly by the breadth of James's shoulders. Val shook herself, putting away the problem of her little brother. She had another task now.
"Everything okay?" Steve asked cautiously as she approached.
"Yeah." Val took a breath to settle her nerves. "We'll work it out. Sorry about that."
"Sure." Steve glanced from one to the other of them. "What's going on?"
James said, "You remember what I was telling you about, Esteban? Remembering stuff wrong?"
"How could I forget? You kept on and on about it." Steve crossed his arms.
"You said you'd had a weird couple of dreams, too, right?"
"Yeah," Steve said. "What about them?"
"Do you remember anything about them?" Val asked. She hesitated for a second, moistening her lips. "Or anything else odd lately?"
Steve was silent for a moment. "Water," he said abruptly. "Getting shot down over the ocean. Or a watery planet, anyway. I'm not sure which. I thought I'd dreamed it, but I keep remembering it while I'm awake, too." He shrugged. "And, you know, little things, here and there. Headaches. We've all been through a lot. It's probably nothing."
"It's not nothing," Val said.
She'd been through this explanation once already this evening with James, so the words came out a little smoother, more practiced. But she couldn't make out much of Steve's face in the darkness. She couldn't tell if recognition lit his eyes, the way it had with James, or if there was only skepticism there. Steve kept still and listened, all the way through, as she started from when she'd woken up in the hospital, and went on through what they'd seen and heard, what they'd deduced, what they only suspected. The darkness seemed to press around them as she spoke, full of vast and distant monsters. She wished they could have done this inside over a round of beers, with light and noise to beat back the creeping sense of being watched.
Her mouth felt dry when she was done. She swallowed, trying to wet her mouth, and waited.
"That's... a lot to take in, Commander," Steve said at last.
"I know," she said.
He shook his head once, and her gut twisted. "You're not kidding me with this?" he asked.
"Afraid not," she said, tensing. If Steve didn't believe them, she was going to have to make other choices, and fast.
James said, "C'mon, Esteban, doesn't it feel like... this makes sense?"
"Maybe," Steve said after a moment. His voice didn't give away much.
Val forced a laugh, her nerves stretched tight. "Well, you heard me out, that's something."
"Yeah, of course," Steve said. "You're..." He hesitated. "There must be a reason you're telling me this."
Yeah, here it was. Val took a breath, and committed. "We need a pilot." If Steve chose to take this to the Alliance, that would fuck everything.
But you never did anything that mattered without taking risks.
"Right," Steve said. His voice was still even, with no shock or anger; thoughtful, more than anything else. "We, huh?"
"Yeah," James said.
Steve shifted, tilting his head toward James. "You're all in on this, huh, Vega?"
"It makes sense," James said again. "There's been a lot of weird shit going on, you know? We've both seen enough of it. And I gotta tell you, spending the last few days around Shepard, it's just gotten weirder. There's all this shit in my head, like I'm seeing double. Remembering double. I know this whole thing sounds loco, but it explains everything better than anything else."
Steve held silent for another excruciating moment. "I know what you mean," he said finally. "Commander — I know in my head that we met a couple of weeks ago. But I can't help feeling like I've known you a lot longer, and through a lot more."
Val laughed softly, as the tautness in her nerves eased. "The way I remember it, you've had my life in your hands every time you fly a shuttle. We became friends pretty fast."
Steve nodded, looking down toward the ground. "You said you needed a pilot?"
Val glanced around. The door to the bar opened and a couple of humans came out, laughing and leaning on each other. They started down the path back to camp, and she waited until they'd disappeared down the rise before she answered. "We're going to hunt these things down, wherever they are. We're going to need a ship and a pilot for that. And we're going to need to get to the orbital docks to get her."
Steve turned toward her sharply. "You're talking about Normandy?"
He'd spoken in a low voice, but Val cast another quick glance around anyway. She didn't see anyone in earshot, but her voice stayed low. "Does it count as stealing if the ship agrees to it?"
She held her breath, wondering if this was going to be a problem, but Steve chuckled. "You talked EDI into this too, then?"
"She has some reservations, but she seems willing to help." She was taking a leap; EDI hadn't quite agreed to be stolen. Val was 90% confident that she would, though.
"All right," Steve said after another moment. "What do you need from me?"
Relief lightened the knot in her stomach. "That means a lot, Steve."
They talked for a few minutes longer, about practicalities and logistics. When they parted for the night, Val carried that lightness with her all the way back to her cramped barracks berth. They had a plan, and once her team had a location, they'd move. She felt good, poised and ready for action, and she could roll into her bunk and ignore the stab of missing her quarters on the Normandy.
#
The beeping of her omni-tool jostled Val out of a dream of cold, dark spaces[*]. She slapped at her 'tool, lying on the tiny shelf next to her bunk, and peered at the time, befuddled. Her alarm hadn't woken her; she had a string of messages waiting for her, the most recent from Garrus, only minutes ago.
None from Alex.
She grabbed her morning kit and scrambled out of bed toward the unoccupied bathroom, where she could reply without disturbing the other occupants of the barracks.
Hey. What's so urgent? I'm free now. G.
She blew out a breath and rapidly sent her response.
Some developments last night. Wanted you there, but it worked out. Vega's in.
His reply came only a few moments later.
Developments? Do we need to talk?
Yeah, they did. Val made the arrangements, finished up in the bathroom, and headed out on for an early-morning run.
Today the run didn't shake out the knots of tension between her shoulders. Garrus wouldn't be happy with last night's events, and worry over what had kept him occupied all evening kept her from settling into her stride.
She saw him waiting at the place they'd designated, his turian silhouette and bulky armor equally distinctive. It was the same spot where they'd first run into each other, weeks and what felt like a lifetime ago; distant enough from both human and turian camps to be out of the way, yet not too far to make it plausible that they'd just happened to run into each other there. Again. She slowed to a stop, sweat prickling down her spine.
"Hey," Garrus said.
"Hey, yourself." She kept her hands loose at her sides, instead of reaching for him.
"So what happened last night? It sounded important."
She blew out a breath, steeling herself for his reaction. "We used the artifact. Alex and EDI are still working through the data, but we should have a destination soon."
Garrus blinked. His mandibles twitched. "Wait, you activated that thing?"
"Talitha volunteered." She grimaced. "Actually, she insisted."
"And you couldn't wait one day? What exactly was so urgent about doing it then?" His subharmonics grated, a sure sign of irritation.
"I wanted you there," she said, aware of the defensive note creeping into her voice. "That's why I was trying to reach you. But like I said, she insisted. She was pretty worked up, and I thought it was best not to make her wait."
"And you just went ahead and did it without back-up?" Garrus asked, mandibles tight.
Val shrugged, trying to play it casual. "Vega was there."
His mandibles twitched again. "We were going to talk to him together."
"There wasn't time to wait." She crossed her arms against the morning chill. "He wanted answers. I gave him some, he's on board, and I got back-up. Win-win."
Garrus tilted his head, pale eyes piercing. "You're sure he's all the way in?"
"Positive." James's commitment was transparent, easy to read. She had every confidence in his loyalty.
"And everything went fine with artifact?"
She flinched and rubbed the back of her neck. "That... got a little complicated."
"Shepard." The discordant note in his subharmonics was back.
"I'm fine," she said quickly. "I got into the artifact's radius for a few minutes, and the Leviathan touched me. Just for a moment. I'm fine."
"Shepard," Garrus said sharply, and took a jerky step away from her, turning toward the horizon. "We talked about that."
"I know we did." She let herself reach for his arm then, tapping her knuckles lightly against his armor. "It wasn't ideal, but I'm okay."
He let out a breath and glanced at her sideways. "You can't know that for certain."
Val opened her mouth to offer some kind of reassurance or denial. The intensity of Garrus's gaze stopped her. An uncomfortable weight settled in her stomach.
"We don't know what they're capable of," Garrus said. "They stole people's lives for years on that mining station. Not one of them remembered a thing."
Val swallowed, considering. "I feel all right. And the object's secure now."
"We hope," Garrus muttered. He turned to face her. "And we talked about this, too. About you taking on everything yourself. You said we'd do this together."
"We are," Val protested.
Garrus shook his head roughly and made a low noise in his throat. "You took some big steps last night without me."
"I couldn't reach you," Val countered. "I told you I was going to talk to Vega, and I wasn't expecting what happened with Talitha."
His mandibles flexed. "You still left me out, Shepard. You could have found a way to wait for a few hours."
"I..." She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the drive to defend herself. Having to justify her decisions made her rev up, ready for a fight, but she wasn't in a war with Garrus. His point was fair. Maybe she'd been too eager to move ahead. "I'm sorry."
He tilted his head sideways and regarded her for a long moment. She held her breath, wondering if this was going to be it, the moment that ruptured their barely-regained partnership.
"Apology accepted," he said, and her heart lifted. "Is there anything else I should know?"
She thought for a moment, and had to hold herself back from wincing. "I filled Steve in, too?"
To her relief, Garrus chuckled. "Of course you did. And you're sure he's on board?"
"I think so." She thought back to trying to decipher Steve's expression in the dark. "He's harder to read than Vega." The weight in her stomach hardened. "I hope so."
"Mm." Garrus leaned forward to catch her eye. "Shepard... if he has second thoughts and tipped off your superiors, we'll deal with it."
She let out a breath. "Yeah." Garrus had contingency plans for everything, and she was good at improvising. She tried to shake off her unease. "What kept you last night, anyway?"
He sighed and glanced toward the horizon. No Reapers stalked by today; the plain stretched out, lonely and empty. "Politics, mostly. The Hierarchy's very concerned about the asari."
Val folded her arms, tightening her shoulders. "What about them?"
"We're being asked to channel all communications through a newly-appointed matriarch. Normally the Hierarchy would appreciate clarity in communications, but it's very... un-asari. Plus, several of the asari republics seem to be suppressing their normal democratic review processes. Our agents on the ground tell us there have been protesters clashing with the militia, but nothing's getting out on official channels, which is also concerning. Combine that with the krogan agitating for ships and territory, and my government's very nervous."
"Shit." The breeze was picking up, chilling the sweat still clinging to her skin. From what she remembered, the asari had had democratic governments since before humans had writing. To see those institutions threatened now felt like watching an ocean drain away.
"Also my sister's in the hospital." His voice caught. "She has a serious infection and spent most of the evening in surgery. She's out now, but they're not sure if she'll recover."
"Garrus." Shocked away from the political problem, Val reached for him, relieved when he let her take his hand. "I'm sorry."
He squeezed her hand back. "She's still got a chance. But she didn't get medical help right away, so..."
She rested her other hand against his face, running her thumb along the deep blue of his markings. "Let's hope toughness runs in the family."
Garrus laughed, weakly. "Let's hope."
He leaned his head into her hand, and elation burst bright in her chest. As strange as things were, whatever she might have done, however things changed around them, the two of them were still a team. They still had that. They still had this bit of comfort, in spite of everything.
"It's probably coincidence," Garrus said. "But when I know there's something in the shadows moving pieces, it's hard not to feel... targeted. That what happens to my sister happens on purpose, somehow."
She let out a long breath. "I know what you mean."
He glanced at her quizzically. "Oh?"
"My youngest brother died."
Garrus straightened, brow plates drawing down. "I thought he was in the hospital?"
"He had been. And then he wasn't. That's why Talitha was so upset." She frowned, glancing away. "It doesn't seem totally real to me. I only remember him as a little kid, but the two of them had a life. A plan. And now that's taken away."
After a moment's silence, Garrus said, "Well. Good thing we're going to find these aquatic bastards and stop them."
Val nodded, glad when his grip tightened on hers.
#
Alex's eyes burned from staring at screens full of data. He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned. How long had he been at this, anyway? He'd lost track, and wasn't sure he really wanted to know.
His omni-tool blinked orange, again. New messages. He'd silenced the tool earlier, but the steady blip of the light was its own kind of distracting. Frowning, he activated the 'tool.
Another message from Misha scrolled across the interface. He wanted to know what Alex was working on. He'd asked twice already, only half a step away from the c'mon c'mon c'mon of a little brother dancing around his workstation. What had gotten into him, anyway? He wasn't usually this interested in Alex's work.
Alex groped for his cup of coffee and took another swig. Cold, ugh; he made a face as it slid down his throat. Oh, right: Val was involved. Little brother had figured out that big sister and big brother were in on something together, and couldn't stand being left out. Made sense, maybe, with only the three of them now. Alex's frown deepened. Knowing that Ivan was gone made a dull stab of pain somewhere in his chest, but it felt faintly unreal, just one more piece of information among all the data he was swimming in.
He'd sent Talitha off to bed a few hours ago after catching her falling asleep at her workstation. He should get some sleep himself, but he could almost — almost — see the shape of something, as data overlaid data. Reaper movements, the communications glitches Traynor had been talking about, habitable planets... there had to be something here. Alex groaned and pressed his hands hard against his eyes, until the darkness behind the lids swirled with color. If he went to sleep, he wasn't sure what could change by the time he woke up again. The whole family except Val were supposed to be dead, weren't they?
His mind shied away from the dark void that conjured, from the hazy memories of huddling in a shelter beneath the school while explosions rumbled in the distance. That hadn't happened, but it was supposed to happen. Why was he trying so hard to fix this, anyway? Seemed like a good chance he could wink out of existence as a result.
He shook himself. No point in dwelling on that shit when he had a problem to solve. "EDI, can we cross-reference this with... unusual energy outputs? If they're fucking around with reality, that's gotta use a shit-ton of energy."
"A reasonable hypothesis," EDI said. "Cross-referencing."
Someone pounded on the door.
Alex stared at the door, jolted out of his thoughts. Was Val back? No, she'd just walk in. Maybe Misha? He started toward the door on autopilot.
"Alex, do not open the door."
He froze, his hand already on the control panel. "What?" EDI's warning made no sense.
The door slid open. A man pushed through from outside immediately. Alex stumbled backward, confused.
"Shepard," the man growled. He loomed, a bulky shape with hunched shoulders and a scowl.
"Yeah? If you want my sister, she's not here," Alex snapped, annoyed by the pushiness.
"None of you should be here," the man said. His hand shot forward. A sudden, sharp pain bloomed in Alex's gut.
"The fuck," he said stupidly, dropping his hand to the spot. He touched wetness, and something hard, something that jutted out.
EDI's warning suddenly made a lot more sense. His brain started waking up from the fatigue-fog of analysis. How the fuck had he forgotten to be paranoid?
The man grabbed for Alex's shoulder. Alex had just enough presence of mind to throw himself backward and slap his omni-tool. It spat out a combat drone, which promptly zapped the stranger with its low-grade stunner. The man yelped, but didn't fall. Obedient, the drone kept firing, quick little zaps. Alex staggered across the room, hoping it would keep the attacker busy long enough. He made it to the desk and fumbled with the drawers, his fingers slippery.
The man snarled at the sparking drone, flailing at it. He managed to hit it with one arm, flinging the drone into the wall, where it flickered and died. Fortunately Alex had just found what he was looking for. He grabbed his pistol out of the drawer and swung it up just as the man charged toward him. His first shot pinged off the far wall.
His second drilled a dark hole into the man's shoulder. The stranger reeled, looking confused, his hand groping toward the blood.
Alex fired again.
The man staggered and fell. Alex couldn't tell if the guy was dead, but he wasn't coming any closer. Alex made to sit down in his chair and dropped to the floor on his ass instead. Pain shot through his midsection. He gritted his teeth, swallowing down nausea until he could manage to speak. "EDI —"
"I have summoned your sister and medical help and locked the door until they arrive."
Alex eyed the fallen man. "You locked him in?"
"In case more enemies arrived."
Alex winced. "Great. Thanks."
He wasn't sure how much time passed. He huddled, breathing carefully. Pain swelled, threatening to eat him whole. He blinked as his vision blurred, trying to focus on the collapsed body in front of him. Was it moving? He didn't think — He blinked again. The pistol was slipping from his grip. His hand tightened around it, and he tried to brace it against his knee. He wasn't gonna drop it now. He wasn't... where was anyone, anyway?
The door opened. He jerked himself alert, fumbling with the pistol. It took a moment to recognize Val through the shimmer-blue biotic aura.
His shoulders slumped. "Hey." His voice came out funny, like it was on the other end of a bad comm connection.
Val crossed the room in the blink of an eye, crouching down beside him, talking in a low voice. He didn't catch the words; his grip went slack and the world went dark.