Gasin (Gasinu - pl)- Prothean male the age of majority. (Dropped from 20 to 13 over the course of the war.)

Takun (Takune - pl) - Prothean female the age of majority. (Dropped from 20 to 13 over the course of the war.)

Dahtaric - The highest rank of the Prothean Scientific Authority

Regulikar: The Prothean central government.

Morumplacus - Restless spirit, undead, ghoul. From ancient turian folklore. The souls of those slain by dishonourable means were believed to wander after death to exact justice. They were believed to torment the living by taking the form of whatever the victim feared most.

Arate - Prothean rank comparable to captain

Binav - Prothean rank comparable to private

59 Days ASR Horizon

Shepard started after the group of protheans, taking her time and letting a demilitarized zone build between them. She didn't have any sense of Giran's play, but just handing them an open invitation to look at whatever the suzerain wanted to see? Yeah, she didn't buy that for a moment.

She paused outside a door two hallways from where they'd met Giran and Henry. Through the windows, she saw thirty or so people—asari, human, turian, even a krogan and two quarian—all moving busily around what looked like the dayroom at Martin's old rehab facility. Agitated by the disruption to their lives, a good half of them paced or rocked in their chairs, crying or yelling. The rest of their number tried to calm the others down, bribing them with food or makeshift games.

"Why are all these people here?" Shepard asked, looking to Giran. "Most of them probably have lives up there."

Giran returned to stand next to Shepard. "The security of this base must remain absolute. If they return to the surface, the ones who sent them down here could recapture them." Her posture straightened, going rigid. "Without knowing their masters' desires, we could not risk returning them to the surface."

Shepard spun bristling, spines and barbs only just contained, her anger and growing paranoia agreeing to wait for more information, but not long. "So they're prisoners?" She felt Garrus close behind her, but stepped away from him, needing the space more than the weight of his protectiveness.

"They're family." Giran's counter felt like a feint and did nothing to ease Shepard's concern. "When they arrived, we broke their masters' hold over them, but the power that drove them down here destroys them a little more every moment they are subjected to this control." She pointed to Henry. "He was the first. Vindication awoke us upon sensing his intrusion. When we discovered him, he hovered moments from joining his antecessors."

The prothean held out a hand to usher them further down the corridor. "Once Henry was stable, we placed him in stasis and returned to our pods. Two hundred and thirty-eight days later, another arrived, and then another. We ceased returning to stasis after the sixth, their arrivals coming so close together that I decided that a greater vigilance was required." She gestured again, that one carrying enough demand that Shepard opted for acquiescence and greater vigilance of her own.

"And the three of us?" Garrus asked. Shepard winced. She'd been hoping for more of a read on the situation before popping that cat out of the bag. Garrus didn't waver in the slightest when she glared at him, his front solid as stone. "Are we going to be held captive down here as well?"

Giran turned and set out down the corridor, apparently impatient with waiting for them to do as she wished. "That will depend on you."

Not exactly Shepard's idea of an ideal answer, but she followed. As much as she hated the idea of shooting their way out, that remained an option if push came to shove and then shove came to bullets. She shook her head a little when Garrus opened his mouth to continue. As much as she wanted guarantees that they could leave along with any of the others who wanted to return to their families, she figured pushing could wait until after the big secret.

Giran turned right onto a large balcony, striding up to a computer terminal far more complex than the small interfaces that dotted the walls here and there. "My parents believed so passionately in the security of this project that they purged all memory of it and their work before they departed the base for the last time."

Sweet baby Jesus, what the hell awaited them down there? For a half-second, every instinct Shepard possessed insisted that she reach out to stop Giran's fingers on the interface, to tell the prothean not to show them anything. Anything so secret and so dreaded … they'd just end up another nightmare that they had to fight or overcome. Sometimes knowledge just didn't justify the cost.

However, despite her misgivings, Shepard remained still and breathless as Giran powered up the computer and lights began to appear down near the bottom of the space.

Light pouring into the space thawed Shepard's voice, the specific word Giran used—purged—catching her attention. "Purged?" Even as she asked, an image of the small storage devices Liara and Shiala brought back from Eden Prime appeared in her mind. "You mean, they placed the knowledge in memory shards?"

A stiff nod answered her. "They dared not allow enemy hands to seize control of the project." Giran paced a few metres and back. "My parents found the plans on a computer in an inusannon ruin while they were hiding the Fulcrum. They brought them here to decode and translate them. The last decades of the war consumed my people, the Regulikar drowning in desperation, so the scientific authority approved the covert construction of what could prove the end of everything."

Huge banks of light encircling the bay burst to life, blinding Shepard for long seconds before the glare faded, revealing a construction at the center. Massive in scope, it nonetheless looked incomplete. Shepard stepped right up to the railing. "What the hell is it? A weapon?"

Giran joined her, hands gripping the railing, eyes staring up at the metal lattice. "We don't know precisely what it is or what it does. That's why security is so tight. All we know is that its inusannon designers called it the Crucible."

The floor felt as though it disappeared out from under Shepard's feet, only Nihlus's urgent, sudden grip on her shoulder holding her steady. "The Crucible?" she repeated, slanting it as a question. She glanced toward Nihlus and then Garrus. "Damn, no wonder they wanted to get us down here."

Giran stiffened, her hand moving over the stock of her rifle. "What do you mean? You know that name? You know what the device is?" Her violet eyes flashed, filled with suspicion and a sense of duty that burned like fire. Her people closed in behind her, their hands lifting their rifles to an uncomfortably ready position.

"Hold up." Feeling Garrus and Nihlus's alert levels leaping into the red as well, Shepard held up her hands, palms out. "Sweet baby Jesus, give me a chance to explain before the bullets start flying. First of all, we've only heard the name, Crucible. When the suzerain communicated with us, they said that the Reapers were building the Catalyst, so we had to make sure they never built the Crucible. We don't actually know what either thing is."

Giran eased down from high alert, but remained tense, watchful. "The Catalyst is the reason we finished the pieces of the Crucible, but never assembled it. It is the last piece. We believed it to be a power source, the heart of the machine, but never discovered its nature." She shook her head and flung a frustrated gesture at the piece before them. "We built it in pieces, far below the surface to keep it hidden from the Reapers. We believed, as the inusannon did before us, that it was a great weapon to destroy the Reapers. We just didn't understand how it would perform this miracle, or how much of the galaxy would meet its end along with them."

Shepard turned her back to the construct. "And if you'd figured out what the Catalyst was, you would have assembled this and tried to use it?"

"Yes," Giran answered, "and it's construction would prove a small miracle in itself. It measures ten kilometres in length. They are massive pieces of the most dangerous puzzle the galaxy had even known." She let out a long, musical sigh, and for a moment, Shepard saw the stress cracks in Giran's armour. The prothean's battle hadn't stopped with the defeat of her people. Giran dragged her knuckles along her kepalar ridge, a sign of growing agitation. "And if this monstrosity proves to be a Reaper weapon, something their twisted will can turn against us … how many cycles did my parents lose as they laboured to decipher the plans, and how much of my people's dwindling wealth and materials did we waste in its construction?"

Giran strode to the railing a few metres down the balcony, hands gripping the railing hard enough that the metal screeched a little as the takun's armour ground against it. "And how much will it destroy?" She let out a noisy breath. "I should have simply blown the base down into this hole. With its destruction, those of us who remain could have joined our peers, resting in the antecessor's embrace."

Shepard shrugged, a weak flail of helpless ignorance. "I don't have any answers, but the suzerain don't want to get their hands on the Crucible, they want to keep it out of the Reapers' hands … claws … tentacles … whatever." She smiled and let out a long breath. "So that's a good thing. We just need to make sure the Collectors don't find out about it." Joining Giran at the railing, Shepard stared out at the parts and pieces. "Your parents have been incredibly helpful so far, perhaps they could help us sort the rest of this out."

"Helpful?" Something painted Giran's tone in lighter hues as she turned to face Shepard. "Other than the warning they sent through the beacon network?"

Shepard grinned, wide and easy. Proud daughter, eager to share word of her parents … that Shepard understood. "Their intel gave us a huge leg up in the battle against the vanguard, and it's still helping us. We only know why the Collectors are abducting our colonists because of their memories, and their imprints led us to the discovery of massive Collector bases on our homeworlds." She shrugged. "We might have come through the fight against Sovereign without their aid, but definitely not with the strength we did."

"Imagine what we could accomplish together," Nihlus said, stepping up between them. The green field of his stare crackled with excitement, and the most hope she'd seen from him since her return. "We're out ahead of the Reapers' return this time. We don't know how long we have before they find a way back, but if we could take down the Collectors, study their technology, it might help us find ways to fight the Reapers." He stared out at the Crucible. "Your people would be invaluable in helping us discover how the Reapers changed your technology."

Spinning to face Giran, Nihlus beamed at her as if looking down on his own daughter. "Would you help us? We could use this base, keep the Crucible safe, even examine the plans, see if a fresh perspective can figure out what it's meant to do." Nihlus leaned against the railing, stretching out to look down the piece's length. "Maybe, if between us, we can figure out what it's meant to do, we can figure out what the Catalyst is." As if he could see the entire plan unfolding before him, he nodded. "Then we can stop the Collectors from completing it for the Reapers."

Giran took off her gloves, hooking them on her armour, and held out her hands. "Will you permit me to read you?" She nodded to include Garrus in her question. "All of you? Only through following the threads of your lives can I truly understand your paths and motives. If you hide no deception, I will allow you to leave." Her violet gaze latched onto Nihlus. "And perhaps we can find ways to work together."

Nihlus removed his gauntlets and placed his hands on Giran's before Shepard even had a chance to wonder if there might be a reason for them not to. They'd been down there a half hour, far too short a time to assess any risk. What if Giran could pull out memories? What if she could remove the imprints?

"Nihlus!" Shepard let out an exasperated sigh and stood beside their joined hands, ready to break the contact or shoot Giran … whatever she needed to do to save his asslessness.

Despite the worst possibilities running through Shepard's head—including a lobotomized Nihlus getting excited about green pudding in the day room—a moment later, Giran looked up, smiled and laid a hand against Nihlus's cheek. "You truly honour my father." Notes of sorrow, nostalgia, and love whispered through the words. "Thank you for allowing me to see his final cycles."

Nihlus placed his hand over hers. "He's a part of me, always teaching, always guiding." He stepped back, one hand gliding down Shepard's arm. "It's fine, Jane. You'll see." The smile he gave her reminded her of the beatific happiness of cult members. Facing down her ire and suspicion with a slight chuckle, he bent to nuzzle her ear. "I'm fine. You'll be able to read her as she reads you."

Shepard stepped back and snapped, "You're allowing Merol too much freedom. It's making you too quick to trust." She sucked in a deep breath when his mandibles dropped, steeling herself against the blow she'd dealt.

He policed his reaction and squeezed her shoulder. "Trust me if you can't trust her. You know that Merol or not, I'd never put the two of you in danger." A crooked grin set one of his mandibles twitching. "That's why I went first."

Shepard took another deep breath, that one red-tinted and heavy. "You're not disposable." Instead of allowing him to reply, she turned to Giran and nodded. "Very well, but your mother went through a great deal of trauma after she left this place." She didn't know if she'd want to see her mother go through the nightmare that haunted Tashac's life, and really didn't know how letting Giran into all of that would help. Still, she held out her hands, palms up, and prayed that allowing the contact didn't blow everything to hell.

As soon as Giran's palms grazed hers, images poured into her, almost like the beacon vision, but coloured by the spirit of the takun. Giran's spirit possessed an honour and dedication to duty as strong as her mother's but tempered by her father's spiritual depth. Family, emotion, the last moments of the base, everything but the work conducted within the base flashed through Shepard's head. The lack of the latter didn't feel like an omission, but rather like a gap in the source material, as if Giran had also dumped everything that might compromise security into a memory shard.

Either way, the bombardment passed in but a moment and then Shepard found herself alone in her head once more. Staggering back a step, she leaned gratefully into the two hands that reached out to steady her. While not traumatizing like the beacon, it left her disoriented and a good two hundred percent more exhausted than she'd already been.

Note to self: Nap before mind melding. Seriously.

Garrus wrapped an arm around her waist. That time she allowed the contact, his support a welcome wall at her back.

The prothean stared into Shepard's eyes. "You have journeyed so far and returned." She shook her head, a gentle rolling motion that expressed incredulity. "You have seen betrayal as great as any my mother suffered, and yet … you're here. You're still fighting for the ones who thanked you for defeating the Vanguard by having you killed." She scowled, but not anger … confusion. "How did you join your antecessors and then return?"

"I don't know. What happened during the months between dying and waking up is only just starting to come back, and even then, it's the tiniest shards of memory." Shepard paused. She'd never really thought about why she kept fighting … why she hadn't just thrown up her hands and hidden away on some tropical island in the traverse. "As for why I'm still fighting … . Maybe it's because of these two, and maybe it's because I don't know how to do anything else."

A slight shrug rattled her armour a little, one shoulder joint clicking as it dropped a little further than where it started. "We're faced with an enemy that no one has ever defeated. Not just this cycle is staring at me." She made a low, growling sigh that Garrus echoed through his second larynx. Tipping a smile up at him, she leaned into his side a little as he looked down at her with a gaze that told her she never needed to bear the burden alone.

She nodded before continuing, "Untold cycles wait out there in the future, staring back, waiting for me … for us ... to end the Reapers and their harvests. If that is the reality placed before you, how do you … does anyone … refuse to fight?"

"My mother spoke very much as you do, stressing the honour that must guide our path through the despair and destruction." The arate paced a little, her armour appearing too heavy and getting heavier by the moment. "It was not a popular sentiment in the last days of the struggle, my people divided into those who ran and tried to hide—soldiers deserting in droves—and those who threw thousands before the Reapers', commanders sacrificing everyone and everything for a single Reaper kill."

Giran's scrutiny softened a little as Garrus released Shepard and stepped up, offering to allow her to read him. "I have no need to walk the trails of your life," she said. "I have seen you through their eyes. Their devotion and respect shone a light on the things I needed to know." She leaned against the railing, the Crucible to her back.

"I felt pieces missing from your memories," Shepard said, deciding to push her luck and go for broke. The option to shoot their way out remained, although her gut and the alarm at the base of her skull both remained silent. Despite the missing pieces, Giran hadn't felt as though she was hiding anything. "Did you dump your memories of the work into a memory shard as well?"

Giran frowned, surprise evident in her open mouth and slightly bared teeth. Her gaze focused inward, her eyes moving as if searching through files. The reaction appeared so quickly that Shepard didn't believe it false, a supposition reinforced a second later when the arate looked to the hologram standing unobtrusively off to one side. "Vindication? Did I deposit memories into a shard before I went into stasis?"

The VI nodded, a starched, formal gesture. "All base staff voted unanimously to place the memory of their work into shards prior to the base shutting down. Only memories related to security of the Crucible Project remained intact. Shards are sealed in the vault on sublevel five."

Giran stared at Shepard for long moments, her gaze a weighing one. "Will you allow us time to secure our memories and inventory the base? If you return in a few weeks, we'll be far better able to answer questions and make decisions." Again, Shepard didn't feel any sort of deceit coming from the prothean. This time the takun seemed thrown, the revelation of working on partial memories a disturbing one, and Shepard understood that far more intimately than she cared to consider.

"My people and I cannot be sure of the level of security threat the base faces without complete memories of the projects contained within." She shrugged. "Without being able to see the full picture." Shaking her head, she made a low, growling sound. "I've allowed myself … all of us ... to exist in this twilight of suspended animation for too long." The sound morphed into a bitter laugh. "Weariness, I suppose. Easier to focus on maintaining security down here than to open myself up to the larger implications of the infiltrations."

"We all felt it, Arate Jacar," one of the gasin said, speaking for the first time.

A long, female sigh drifted out from beneath another helmet. "It feels as though we fought our war and should be done, Arate. We all feel it, and we did not even wake to our friends' company, to take up this second war by their sides." A shorter, downward-sloped sigh. "Just the few of us alone amidst these primitives."

Giran spun to face her people. "Datarri, please return to the control room and await me there."

Shepard could tell by the takun's sudden stiffness that she realized her stumble into rudeness a couple of moments too late, but also that she hadn't meant to belittle them.

"Arate, may I express my regret before excusing myself?" Datarri asked, giving a stiff salute. When Giran answered, a simple nod, the prothean soldier saluted the three of them. "I apologize for the slip in my vocabulary. I did not mean to offer insult."

Shepard smiled, and then spoke, the proper words for a formal apology appearing from beneath Tashac's door. "Thank you for your apology. It is accepted with an open mind and heart. Go in peace, unfettered."

Datarri saluted again and hurried down the hall.

Once the prothean disappeared out of earshot, Shepard sighed. "We've met another prothean along our journey, as I'm sure you saw. He takes great delight in calling us primitives and telling us how much smarter and stronger protheans were."

"Commander Javik," Giran confirmed. "I knew two of his offspring. I was raised with them as my older, heroic siblings. I mourned them greatly when they joined the antecessors."

Shepard stepped close to the arate, a plan appearing in her mind as she began to speak. "I will gladly give you a few weeks, even a month to secure the base and your memories. Our partnership will be more fruitful for the time spent, but I would ask one boon." She took a deep breath, bracing before throwing caution to the wind as she continued, "A boon that would benefit us both."

Suspicion tinted the edges of Giran's stare, but she nodded. "And that would be?"

"Allow me to leave two people with you," Shepard said, the plan growing focussed as it came out her mouth. "They'll work within whatever security restrictions you feel are necessary, but they'll also be able to help acclimate you to this cycle. One of them may even be able to assist your guests. She's a very accomplished scientist in her own right."

"Captain?" Speak of the operative ….

Shepard opened the channel. "Yes, Ms. Lawson?"

"The suzerain have apparently departed. They're no longer visible over the colony." Miranda sounded far more cautious than relieved, a sentiment Shepard wholeheartedly agreed with.

"Contact the Ypres to see if the jamming has lifted. If so, have EDI run every scan she can think of to determine if it's really gone, or just cloaked."

"Yes, ma'am. Lawson, out."

Shepard closed the channel, and refocused. "Sorry about that." She smiled and stepped forward, a hand stretching across the gulf between them to grip Giran's upper arm. "If we cooperate and truly grow into allies, we'll be able to do so much more … figure out so much more than we can alone."

Giran nodded. "If you are willing to entrust the safety of your people to me, I am willing to extend trust in kind, but the lower levels of the base will remain sealed." She returned to the computer console, opening security camera footage of the refugee encampment in the hangar bays. "The humans may remain in the upper level. We will give Vindication directives to allow the refugees to use the south door." She smiled, a pale show of teeth. "In return, perhaps they could repair the sections of the collapsed and damaged sections of tunnel."

Shepard nodded, but turned to Garrus, searching his expression and level stare for any sign of misgivings. He saw twice as much as she did, and his cop instincts demanded that he remain slow to trust any situation. If anyone would see the trap waiting, he'd be the one. He simply shook his head, a slight shrug rolling his shoulders.

"All right," Shepard said after Nihlus wordlessly expressed his approval, "let's get these arrangements made."

60 Days ASR The Ypres

Shepard glanced up at the knock on her cabin door. "Yes?" With no small amount of gratitude, she turned away from the massive list of preparations scrolling up her computer screen. "Come in."

Miranda appeared in the open door. "Commander Javik and I are prepared to return to the surface, Captain." Jaw stern and clenched, Shepard's XO formed the very image of disapproval, but she'd ceased to argue the point. Frankly, Shepard had expected the operative to bring up the control chip when repeated uses of the omnitool didn't change Shepard's mind.

"You're an olive branch, Operative Lawson. We have the opportunity to access science light years beyond our own, and you are the first step toward a working partnership with these protheans." She pushed up out of her chair. "I don't want to return to discover that Cerberus has taken them all prisoner and is torturing them." One, absent hand reached up to scratch at the spot over the dead chip before she caught herself and dropped it. "Good luck, and stay in touch. We'll be back in exactly twenty-eight days."

Miranda hesitated for another second, her mouth opening, but then she snapped it closed and nodded. "I'll do my best to build a solid, working foundation, Captain."

Shepard smiled and nodded. "I know you will. Dismissed, Operative Lawson."

When her XO pivoted neatly on her heel and marched out, Shepard folded back into her chair. Where were her torins? Both were on the Ypres, but she hadn't seen either since they arrived back from the surface.

She knew Nihlus had been seeing to making space for a few new bodies as Mordin and Chakwas came aboard to use the lab along with Dr. Eis. Legion, Tali, and another geth would join up with them enroute to Ploba to meet with the Chiastyllian Cynosure. She didn't know where her faith came from, but she suspected that the geth having a similar gestalt consciousness might help bridge the gap between species.

She grinned, her memory playing back Sparky's complaints about the newer version of the Normandy as he skulked up the cargo bay, he and Martin forming an alliance staunchly in support of the SR1 within moments of coming aboard.

Garrus … she frowned and settled back into her work. Garrus probably haunted the briefing room, using the QEC to arrange transport for Liara, Dr. Bryson, and the researcher's team … and checking everywhere for bugs. After they finished on Ploba, the Ypres, Normandy, and Passch would set course for Klencory to investigate the volus billionaire, Kumun Shol's mysterious formations. The scientists believed the volus was onto another prothean sleeper base.

It would be weeks before they made it back to Omega. Shepard closed her eyes and slumped forward, bracing an elbow against the desk to catch her head as it impacted her hand.

A message from Wrex awaited her return, lurking in her inbox. Something about rogue salarians spotted on Tuchanka. She'd set him to the task of finding out more information before they changed course to investigate. The grin returned to her face. Apparently, however, Tuchanka agreed with Grunt, the youngster adopting Wrex and Bakara like parents, and digging into learning about being a krogan with his whole being. At the end of the message, the Urdnot doctor had tacked on a note, telling Shepard that she'd taken a ton of samples and run Grunt through a gamut of tests. All that information awaited their return to Omega.

Another email informed her that her mother had decided to remain on Palaven and help Trea settle into her new duties and prepare for the move to Omega while Bunny headed home to Omega, wanting to return to her studies at Archangel. Shepard sent up a prayer of thanks that the two of them had found places to belong. They deserved happiness and a sense of purpose.

The door opened behind her, a bright smile of genuine relief greeting Garrus. She lifted a hand to capture his talons as he closed the few metres distance and crouched next to her. "How are you holding up?" she asked, searching his face and gaze for signs of stress.

He shook his head. "Fine. It feels strange being on this ship, though. I found three bugs in the briefing room alone. Stomped them into scrap." Leaning in, he nuzzled her brow and then her lips. "So," he said, letting out a long, noisy sigh, "how are we going to handle the sleeping arrangements?"

Shepard kissed him. "Well, I've been thinking about that. All three of us slept together just fine on Horizon, and …." She faltered, a tightening throat and vague, dissociative dizziness clenching her skull in a clawed fist as she imagined how her torins would react to her idea. When she first arrived back on the ship, she'd looked down at the bed and hated the idea of spending that first night back with one while the other slept alone elsewhere.

Garrus stood, and tugged on her hand. "Come on, let's go sit somewhere comfortable." He led her down the stairs to the bed and sat, pulling her between his knees to sit on one thigh. Once she got herself settled, he wrapped his arms around her. "Okay, better. Now, what's your idea?"

Shepard let out a long breath and leaned into him, her brow resting against his jaw. "Nights like tonight … well, I don't want to be without either one of you." She shifted until he tightened his arms, a silent encouragement to just trust him and spit it out. "And I hate the thought of one of you sleeping alone." Her lips tugged a little to one side, a slight quirk of a smile. "Unless you want to be alone, of course."

"So, you're thinking of the three of us sleeping in the same bed?" He shrugged, his breath whispering through her hair. "I'm not comfortable with anything amorous going on, but I admit, I want to be lying at your side every night." One hand stroked the length of her spine, easing her further into his embrace. "I'm okay with it." A soft chuckle rumbled in his throat, sending shivers along every nerve. "I just never thought you would be."

Shepard pulled away just far enough to meet his gaze. "I love you. You're pieces of my soul I can't live without. What about Nihlus?"

"We'll talk to Nihlus when he stops arguing with Gardner about people bunking on the lounge and cargo bay." Leaning in, Garrus kissed her, long and slow and sweet. She grinned when he pulled back just enough for them both to catch their breath.

"What are you grinning about?" he asked, nuzzling the shell of her ear.

Lowering her arm from its grip on his armour, she ran a thumb over the delicate bracelet wrapped around her wrist. "I just remembered … I have a husband."

Chuckling, he stood, lifting her with him. He kissed her again before lowering her onto her own two feet. "Care to join me in the shower, wife?"

Shepard popped the lower seals on his yoke. "I believe I would."

(A-N: Thanks for still being here readers and reviewers alike. Hugs)