Mass Effect: Of Lions And Angels

by jerseydanielgibson

Jane Catherine Shepard and Sara Elaine Ryder, the spacer brat and the Cit-born, the Lion of Elysium and the Angel of Illyeria, lifelong friends and almost-sisters, find themselves mired in events concerning ProTech and a diabolical scheme. Can a SPECTRE and a Corpsman along with an eclectic crew stop a Turians' plan that may rattle the very galaxy itself? (ME AU, major changes)

15. End Of Watch, V

Here! Look! A shiny DLC for you to spend your money on! Thanks, BioWare! :-p

Cargo Bay, SSV Normandy, Lower Hub, Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream, June 29, 2183

Author's Note: Today (5/20) I turn 36. I got you a shiny present; a new chapter to enjoy!

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Petty Officer (Third Class) Sara Elaine Ryder stood in the Cargo Bay as the last of the supplies and equipment were loaded onto the Frigate, teams of Sailors moving back and forth with provisions, parts, components, armor, weapons, crates, boxes, bundles, and everything seemingly made under Sol. Auntie hadn't been kidding when she said that she was pretty much getting everything including the kitchen sink; the Galley now had a sink for the full compliment of CS-3 Navy chefs along with a steely-eyed Master Chef to make sure that meals were done right, proper, and on time. Sara had done a quick tour of the new and improved Normandy, seeing the many upgrades, improvements, installs, and various integrations to make the Frigate that much better. Hell, they had gotten a SASOCOM-variant UT-40 Liberty-Class Transportation Insertion Shuttle ("Erica"), with upgraded twenty-five mike-mike MAC deck cannons that some poor Corvette was probably having to do without, as well as a double-set of eight-round HEAT missile pods affixed to the wing scoops for aerial deployment and air coverage. As Sara understood it, the ground team had faced a truly frightening mobile armored artillery walker the Quarians had coined an 'Armature' on the surface of Therum. If they had to face another one? They had a M-35 MAKO Armored Personnel Vehicle and an armed UT-40 to take it out.

"Petty Officer Ryder to report to CIC at this time. Petty Officer Ryder to report to CIC at this time." The M1C intercom VI announced over the speaker system in the Cargo Bay as Sara looked up to the ceiling at the announcement as it beeped with the end-of-transmission. She looked over to the ship's Supply Officer, 1st Lieutenant Dan Simmons having been given a manifest of the additional cargo and checking it off as it was loaded onto the Normandy, Ryder keeping an eye on things while the Naval Officer paid attention to the paperwork detail while she kept an eye on the personnel.

"Looks like you're moving up in the world, Doc." Simmons coined, his eyes on he datapad in his hand as he checked off on item Alliance Stock Numbers and quantities, making sure everything matched. "No need to stick around for my benefit."

"Please. Chiefs run the Navy." Sara said with a smile. "We just leave you the budgets and paperwork." Dan chuckled at that as he checked off another inventory spot. "You'd guys would probably plow us into a space anomaly if we weren't there to hold your hand to point you in the right direction."

"Can't spell 'lost' without the 'LT'?" The Supply Officer looked up from his datapad, giving her a smirk. That joke was probably as old as the invention of the word 'Leftenant'. But it never got old. "Wouldn't want us to FTL to a bar or anything."

"Hey, now! Let's not be too hasty, here!" That had the Quartermaster crack up as Sara bid him a quick farewell as she moved deeper into the Cargo Bay, heading towards the Normandy's elevator, boarding the conveyance and hitting 'Gun Deck' as a destination, nodding at Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong and Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss as they stood Security by the elevator, armed with Hahne-Keder M500 Shotguns to make sure no unauthorized personnel tried accessing the ship.

Sara exited mid-deck and moved towards the staircase that would take her to the Command Deck, seeing a flurry of activity on the Bridge as she reached the upper deck, Sailors at their posts going over pre-flight checklists and systems management inspections to make sure that everything was running smooth and proper, identifying and addressing issues as they came up. They would be shipping out in a couple of hours, and Sara spied Commander Mark Vanderloo, the ships' new Executive Officer, prowling the Command Deck like a panther, making sure that everything was beyond standard. She might have still wanted to cock-punch him as hard as possible for all the shit he did to Auntie, but even Sara admitted that her former Uncle Mark was a hardcore Commissioned Officer who was a tyrant on performance, forgoing policy and protocol in the name of efficiency and excellence.

"Chief Ryder." The XO said simply as he stalked towards her; his normal mode of movement while on duty. The man was known for sneaking up on a Sailor on a station to spy if they were doing their job right or dicking off. Screenwatchers lived in terror of Commander Vanderloo. Thank God she hadn't picked LADAR Technician or CyWarTech as a profession to fall under his scrutiny. "We have a meeting in the Ward Room in five mikes." Sara paused at that.

There were technically two Ward Rooms on the Normandy, and generally just about every other Systems Alliance Navy vessel. One was usually coined the 'CeePoe' Room, or the Chief Petty Officers' Room; a room where the various Non-Coms could utilize for fitness reports of their subordinates, private dressing downs of substandard Sailors, and meetings in between the real brains of the Navy. The other, generally just called the Ward Room, was of the exclusive use of the Commanding Officer, delegated as he or she saw fit, be it for their own personal use, or 'reserved' for a departmental meeting if needed. Normally, Officers used the Ward Room, and it was rare that a Non-Com would be seen in it.

"Heads up?" The Corpsman asked the XO, folding her arms across her chest, keeping her voice low as she spied Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressly working on the Navigations Terminal, no doubt making sure that everything was updated and accurate.

"I think you're getting another hat to wear." Mark replied softly, and the phrase had Sara wonder. A 'hat' in the Navy meant having another job or duty, or in the case of Officers, likely meant one would be in charge of a Department outside of their own, or gained an additional departmental duties. Technically, Ryder had three hats; she was a Hospital Corpsman who worked in the Med Bay/Dispensary, she was also rated as a Surgeon's Aid, and she had the Fleet Marine Force Hospital Corpsman Badge to identify her as a Combat Corpsman. While 'owning' multiple hats didn't gain one extra pay, it certainly looked quite good on ones' bi-annual Fitness Reports and certainly improved ones chances in things such as promotions and selections.

"Jane's been working on a few ideas before we head to the Cit, and I think you're the accumulation of one of them." Sara merely 'hmmm'ed at that, wondering what it could be about. With all the new personnel that the Navy had PCS'ed onto the SSV Normandy, the Med Bay had certainly plussed up with three more Corpsman… though Sara remained the only FMF Insignia holder. Still, that gave her time to focus on training and improving, especially with xeno-medicine skills that had more-or-less had gone to pot with two years without any practical experience, training, or patients. There hadn't been anything of note on Therum, thankfully, but working as a CitEMS Paramedic on a Skybulance was not the same as being a xeno-nurse at Presidium General or CitU Hospital.

Sara entered the Ward Room at the proscribed time, finding the room to be filled with nine people, including herself. The table was set up with lunch in mind, and Ryder almost salivated at the sight of a cooked meal as oppose to Ready-Heats or UGRE's, seeing Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo served with a side of broccoli and mashed potatoes with sour cream and chives. By the fanciful way the CeramiGel-fabricated plates and glasses were crafted, and the more elegant appeal of the MetalGel-fabricated silverware looked, this was a semi-formal occasion. Sara knew what this was; the semi-formal, semi-relaxed luncheon that Auntie had every day with her Department Heads to go over the status and crew of the Frigate while getting facetime with everyone. She knew of this from both Auntie and Aunt Hannah Singer, Jannie's mother. The only other person in the room that wasn't a Commissioned Officer beside herself was a rated Culinary Specialist, Seaman Brad Switzer standing in the corner in shirtsleeve Class Whites. Ship's Steward, the Corpsman realized. Auntie went old-school with the luncheon, hearkening back to the days of wooden vessels where the Officers would dine together, holding themselves separate of the normal crew to impress upon their authority as well as being about to let their hair down a little when not around their men. Everyone was standing behind a chair that was pushed into the table, having yet to take a seat, and 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko tipped his head towards a seat to his left, indicating where she would be seating. Sara thanked him as she stood behind the chair, noting that one person had yet to arrive.

"Attention on deck!" The Steward bellowed out as Captain Jane Catherine Shepard entered the Ward Room, everyone standing in the position of attention ramrod straight, knuckles to the hems, eyes facing forward as Humanity's First SPECTRE and Commanding Officer of the Normandy breezed in.

"As you were." Auntie replied as she reached her seat at the head of the table, Switzer pulling out her chair (and her chair alone) to seat the N7, everyone else pulling out their own chairs once the Captain had taken hers. The Systems Alliance Navy had its traditions, some going back centuries, and Sara knew this was one of those time-honored traditions going back to the Age of Sails where men harnessed the power of wind with canvas and rope, where the ships were made of wood and sailors forged in iron and steel. No one touched their food or utensils until the Captain did so, and no one spoke until the Captain did so. Sara was more than a little honored to be included.

"Gentlemen," Auntie began, "I've read over the reviews of the trainers and mentors who put foot-to-ass to our crew to make sure that they were top-of-the-line, and I must say that I'm thoroughly impressed with the impressions that they gave. It looks like a vast majority of the crew stepped up to the challenge and used the opportunity to shine, which pleases me. Those who performed sub-par will be left behind on the docks of the Arc when we get underway. I'll forward those names, in which there are only five. Performance-wise, the next time we encounter the Geth? They're going to be facing off against the most elite Sailors in the galaxy." There was a good round of applause for that, in which Sara joined in without issue. "I've gotten a list of details pertaining to the Normandy itself that includes all the upgrades, modifications, alterations, and enhancements that were identified and suggested, and I'm happy to report that the bugs and flaws have been ironed out. This ship is a technological marvel, and now it has the systems and equipment that matches. I wanted the best out of ship and crew, and I got it.

"A toast." Everyone lifted their filled glasses, and Sara was a little surprised to see that the glass was filled with port wine. "To the best damn crew a Captain could ever hope for."

"To the Normandy!" Everyone sounded off, Ryder half-a-second behind the take, being her first time. The port wine wasn't a strong one, but it was flavorful as she took a polite sip.

"To other matters." Captain Shepard continued as she picked up her silverware, indicating that lunch would begin. Sara did her best to use the others as a guide on what and what not to do. Navy Boot had perhaps a one-day training module on formal events, but that had been two years prior. She was relying more on what she learned on the Cit thanks to her father's job in Diplomatic Security Services at the Human Embassy, having been to more than a few formal events on behalf of the Systems Alliance as the Pathfinder's daughter. "I have a list of promotions and assignments that I'll forward to their respective Departments before we head out, and there will be a formal promotion and award ceremony in the Cargo Bay tomorrow before we dock with the Cit. We should be at the Cit for at least three days unless something unforeseen happens. Chief?" Sara knew that meant her. "Do you happen to know an Agent Rix?"

"As in… Council Agent Avitus Rix? The Bladed Shadow?" Sara almost choked on her damn food at the name. Everyone was looking at her. Shit. "I've seen him in passing at a function or two," that was a mild way of putting some of the formal events that her father was required to attend, some purely for the SA, some for multi-species endeavors, "and I know of his reputation. Hell, any Turian worth his fringe knows that name and can probably tell you a few 'neither confirmed nor denied' stories that get pushed out to keep people properly fearful of a SPECTRE's wrath." How had Auntie know that name? "His mentor is the same as Agent Kryik's; Saren Arterius." Either the Wrath of Glory had told Auntie that name (unlikely), or… "Did he contact you?"

"Yes." Jannie replied, looking thoughtful. "He mentioned that he was a protege of Saren's, but was completely confounded by his mentors' actions. Evidently, he wants to meet because with Nihlus' death, I've literally received no instruction whatsoever when it comes to being a SPECTRE. You know more than I do." That wasn't to say that Sara was an expert; far from it! But Sara had lived on the Cit for eighteen years. Anyone living on the Cit for more than a couple of years got a pretty good basic understanding of the clandestine organization known as the Office of Special Tactics. It wasn't a secret that authorized 'leaks' of actions and advancements from 'anonymous inside sources' were meant to illustrate those who would dare defy the Council of Law or the Chamber of Governance that SPECTREs could (and would) reduce someone into a pile of molecular goo… even unnecessarily. The unofficial motto of the Office of Special Tactics was simple, effective, and abstractly terrifying once one thought about it; Enforcement, Personified. "I'm a SPECTRE, but I literally have no idea what I'm suppose to be doing. I want you there for that meeting, Chief. You literally rate as my only expert on that front."

"Aye aye, ma'am." Holy shit. She had seen SPECTREs in passing (they were pretty hard to miss), being the only sentients allowed to be fully armed and armored on the Cit save C-SEC and the Council's and Chamberlain's Threat Intervention Unit; the protective detail for the Council of Law and the Chamber of Governance. But to meet one? That wasn't Auntie? That was a league unto itself. "If it was Agent Kryik's task to teach you such things, but he was killed in the line of duty? Agent Rix may be fulfilling some of those duties out of obligation and for someone he saw as a comrade, even a brother."

"My thought as well." The Captain replied, nodding. "XO? While we're at the Cit, we will maintain double-watch, and limit passes. Taking Liberty on the Arc is one thing, but the Cit is a whole 'nother thing, and not our backyard."

"I'll look into scheduling and battle-buddy systems, and make sure each are supervised by a Chief." Commander Vanderloo promised. That was pretty standard for non-Alliance controlled ports. Mark eyed her for a moment. "Are you looking into delving what the Chief suggested several days ago?"

"Yes." Again, everyone looked to her. "Petty Officer Ryder, based upon several recommendations, suggestions, and recent events concerning the Geth, I feel that we're going to need another department that is centered towards the exploitation of technological combat-related advantages, while exploiting any we might be able to glean. This Department, called SCIENCE/TECHNOLOGY, or SciTech, will be responsible for gaining any kind of variable advantages our ground-team and weapons systems can get, be it from exotic locations, custom fabrication, networking through various liaisons, exploited on the battlefield, or anything else that can be used, made, purchased, or procured. What I noticed on Therum is that while the others did have some bells and whistles that were different and innovative, most everyone expressed the fact that you came up with two unique pieces of technology on your own." Sara was pretty sure she knew where this would be going. "Your Tech Armor idea is something that others have tried and only reached minimal results, while yours seems to be just as advertised. Then you went an invented a Faraday Cage grenade that practically eliminated a Geth Company by electronically decapitating the lead Alpha Prime unit and turning the rest into statues. Yes, you weren't alone in that endeavor, but the point is that you created, crafted, and collaborated something no one had ever made before in our time of need in a cave. With a box of scraps." Sara fought to roll her eyes at the Iron Man reference.

"You will head this Department."

She was speechless.

"You can do it. Easily." Commander Mark Vanderloo said, giving her a nod. "I don't doubt you're the smartest person on this vessel, considering your education. I remember looking at one of your homework assignments out of curiosity to see what the toughest school in the galaxy threw at fifteen-year olds. Theoretical Physics that made my OmniTool commit suicide spitting out long-chain mathematical equations that could fill an aerogel wall solving one of them. I didn't even know what the hell was most of it meant. Toughest school in the galaxy." Mark nodded his head.

"What makes it tougher than the rest, if you don't mind me asking?" The Chief Engineer, 1st Lieutenant Gregory Adams asked, interested. Sara just smiled.

"They make you answer impossible questions." The Corpsman answered. "I was rated fifth in my Peerage for answering a three-hundred year old question with a plausible explanation that could theoretically answer it. You are granted Peerage for coming up with an answer that solves many variables, and only reach the top ten if it solves most variables. I spent four years learning what most do to earn their Doctorates in advanced curriculum, such as quantum physics and mechanics, astrological theory, Biotic theory, various space/time differentiating models, and anything involving hyper-level maths and sciences. I went and picked a classic; the P ≠ NP question." Sara wasn't surprised to see that most in the Ward Room had the so-called 'deer in the headlights' look, even if she had never seen a deer before. But Commander Vanderloo and Lieutenant Adams both perked up and looked at her. "Yes, I solved the Boolean Theory."

"Holy shit." Greg just… stared. In awe, at that.

"I feel like I'm back in math where the teacher just asked a question where I should know the answer, but I'm left fumbling in front of the class." The Chief Weapons Officer, Lieutenant (j.g.) Vanessa Steele said out loud, getting the Supply Officer, 1st Lieutenant Dan Simmons, to merely nod his head in agreement. "Is there… a layman's explanation where I don't feel like I got the brain of a turtle?" That had everyone in the Ward Room chuckling.

"Simply put? Real-time problem-solving done through various angles done in the same time as coming up with a proof. It's extremely important in quantum computing and theoretical mathematics." Sara replied, getting Vanessa to nod her head slowly.

"Is there… a Idiot's Guide somewhere to the dum-dum explanation she just gave me? I just shoot lasers for a living."

---

Staff Sergeant Ashley Williams sat in the main Galley, having taking a slow tour of the new-and-improved SSV Normandy after its extensive refurbishment and upgrades. She now merited her own bunk (an Army standard not generally seen in the Navy) in the CPO Quarters for senior Non-Coms, and had access to the Chief's Galley and Chief's Room as befit her rank. The Navy had different ideas on privileges of rank, not necessarily bad ones. She certainly missed open-bay barracks and being able to walk outside whenever it suited her. Still, at least she was allowed to smoke her cigars. What was life without the little things?

She was currently holding a cup of Starbuck's-produced coffee, not that Godawful shit some asshole had dumped on board before, a real coffee maker in the Galley for those with a caffeine addiction to satisfy, and Ash wasn't about to let a good thing go to waste. Petty Officer Sara Ryder was coming into the Galley, about half-populated with off-duty and not-sleeping Sailors and one Marine, Lance Corporal Hong 'K-Pop' Jeong doing a Sudoku puzzle on his OmniTool when the Corpsman sat beside her, datapad in one hand, scribbling notes with a stylus.

"Good meeting?" Williams asked Ryder, who was rather immersed with her work. Ash had to admit that the Sailor was about as dedicated as they came.

"Yeah. Got more dumped on my plate, but it's a good challenge." Sara turned from her work for a moment to smile at the Colonial Soldier, going back to her work. "Academy's paying off big time. Got a laundry list of tech, materials, and ideas to implement."

"Tech candy. Yum." The colony-born woman wished she had the mind to wrap around such things, but her upbringing had been a bit more prosaic on Sirona, the daughter of a Sailor and a Administrative Assistant. She had thought those endeavors a thing for geeks when she was a teenager. Now she was wishing she had been a bit less of a stupid cowboy. "I like my grenades loud and colorful."

"Ah, the Army response for everything; more boom." That had Williams chuckling slightly. "Ah! Detective, just the Torin I was hoping to see." Ash looked up to see the Special Crimes Detective entering the Galley, working on his own datapad, investigating something. As she understood it, his normal day-to-day job involved investigating the high-and-mighty filth that had the money and means to make most evidence and witnesses disappear. "Grab a seat, there was something I wanted to ask you." Sara looked to Ash… and gave her a sly look. Uh oh.

"Is there something you wished to address, Chief Ryder?" Ash had learned that Sara and Garrus Vakarian had run into each other once upon a Citadel ago a few years back. She didn't know the details, and neither one of them were talking. Evidently, it was bad juju.

"You finding things on the Normandy to your liking? Everyone playing nice?"

"It is a different feel than a Hierarchy vessel, but I enjoy noting the comparisons and contrasts, seeing the different lines of thought in different species." Huh, as far as explanations went, that one wasn't bad at all. Williams wasn't a fan of Turians, though she grudgingly admitted that Detective Vakarian was worth giving the benefit of the doubt. He was a demon with that sniper rifle of his, to be sure. "Was there something you wished to know specifically?"

"Yes, there is." Sara was up to something, the Soldier could just feel it. She took another sip of her coffee and decided to watch. "Now I know you really haven't been around Humans that much, and you do try to be understanding. But something came to my attention that you might not know about. I felt it best to address it to you now that we have a moment."

"The issue being…?" Vakarian's tone was neutral, but his mandibles flagged slightly. Williams had no idea what that meant.

"You haven't been… caught alone with Auntie, have you?"

Wai… what?

"No." Garrus replied, cocking his head to one side, surprised and confused.

"Oh, thank God!" Sara acted relieved, a little pantomimed, at that. "I don't think you know. Ash, you didn't tell him?"

"It… must have slipped my mind." Williams tried to recover herself, missing something here.

"What are we talking about?" The RRU Sniper didn't seem to keen on where this was going.

"She's a Ginger." Ryder announced, nodding her head as she folded her arms across her chest and sat back in her seat.

"Gingers eat souls."

Oh my fucking God… Sara is about to prank a fucking Turian sniper!

"Shit, I completely forgot to tell him!" Ash set down her coffee cup and turned to the Turian across from her. Oh, this was so going to happen! "I'm sorry, Detective, but I'm so use to everyone knowing that Gingers are evil incarnate. It just… didn't occur to me, you know?"

Garrus looked at them, his mandibles drooping slightly. Was he buying it?

"She hasn't tried to chat you up in her personal quarters, or secret you to some location where there isn't anyone else around, has she?" Ryder asked, her tone completely concerned. Damn the girl could have been a thespian! "She only needs a moment and then sssschlllup!" The noise effect seemed to make the Turian blink. "I mean, you've seen Lieutenant Alenko, right? Those adoring eyes, following like a puppy dog, always willing to serve." Sara just sighed, shaking her head. "He's her thrall, she got to him. Sucked his soul right out."

"Sucked it dry." Ash added in, for effect.

Garrus just looked to them, from one to another, his mandibles drooping more.

"But… you've known her for years." The Detective was on the case, and he had evidence.

"I had Scottie, and Scottie had me. Twins are like that." The Corpsman explained, shrugging her shoulders. "But make no mistake, evil incarnate."

"The very definition of evil."

"Don't let her convince you she's a Daywalker, either." Ryder warned him, and Williams had to bite back on a laugh. "Probably how she got to the LT, convincing him she isn't a true redhead. Poor sod."

"Sssschlllup!" Ash had her fun in the sun with the sound effect. Garrus seemed… pretty disturbed.

"You… are making this up." The Special Crimes Detective pointed out, pointing a talon at Ryder. "One cannot suck a Spirit out of a body."

"K-Pop! What's a Ginger!" Sara called out, pulling the young Marine's attention away from his Sudoku from where he sat against a bulkhead.

"Evil incarnate, Doc." The Korean replied. "They eat souls." He went right back to his puzzle.

"Told you." Doc smirked, and Garrus looked to Sara, then to Ash, then back to Sara.

"There's even a song."

"There's a song?" Vakarian asked, still not quite buying it.

"There is?" Ash had never heard of a Ginger song.

"Oh yeah." Sara waved at the notion as if it were no big deal. "Now… who had… ah! Lapdance!" Private First Class Holland Hoss popped up from around the corner, looking a little surprised to hear his name. "Can I borrow your guitar? They've never heard the song before!"

"Um, what song is that, Doc?" Lapdance asked, obviously having come into the conversation too late to follow. Sara just smiled.

"The Lion Went Down To Khar'shan."

About two-thirds of the Galley's population stopped what they were doing and looked right at Sara Ryder.

"I'll go get it!" Hoss called out, already moving before he finished his sentence as he went towards the Enlisted Quarters, coming back a moment later with a PlastiGel-crafted acoustic-body guitar with MetalGel-crafted strings and pegs. "Here you go, Doc." The PFC handed the musical instrument to the Corpsman, and Ash had a funny feeling that this was going to be hysterical. She watched as Sara plucked each string to test its tuning before smiling.

And she began to play.

Ashley immediately recognized the ancient tune, normally played on a viola, and rather fast at that. Watching her fingers on the fretboard as she plucked the strings at a rapid pace was amazing to watch as the song unfolded, most every Human immediately recognizing the tune made popular by Charlie Daniels. When the melody of the song began, she began to sing.

"The Lion went down to Khar'shan,
She was looking for a slug to peel.
The Redhead was down in a funk,
(it was that time of month),
She just wanted to hear a Batarian squeal.

"She came across a Batarian Overseer,
and slaves, he was whipping them hot.
The Lion jumped on him,
And landed with both feet,
And said, 'Slug, let me tell you what!'

"'I happen to be an N7,
(and a Council Agent, too).
And if you try,
you might die,
I'll rip the heart right out of you.

"Now you might got four eyes,
But give a Ginger her due.
You've been told,
I'll eat your soul,
I know I'm better than you.'

"The Batarian begged, 'Please don't kill me,
I only do what I'm told.
I've heard the stories,
All blood and glory,
I don't want to be snapped in two-fold!'

"Batarians, begin your praying, and start running really hard,
Cause the Lions' loose in Khar'shan,
And she brought a bomb the size of Mars!
And if you win, you get to crawl back in your hole.
But if you lose? The Redhead eats your soul!"

Sara began playing the fiddle part again as everyone began to cheer and clap in time with the song, Ash easily joining in. Oh dear God, it was all she could do not to bust up laughing. The scattered noises died down as Ryder reached the second verse.

"The Lion set the Batarian on fire,
And said 'that's how I'll start this show,'
As fire flew from her OmniTool,
And she stocked up on explosive ammo.

"She pulled from her back a big old shotgun,
And ratcheted with a loud clank.
The Redhead aimed right down the sights,
And blew a hole right through a tank!"

There were several whoops of encouragement as Sara continued to play, her fingers dancing on the fretboard as she played the Devil's fiddle with a guitar, sweat beading on her forehead as both of her hands worked the guitar with speed and finesse. She reached the third refrain, and Ash was grinning from ear-to-ear.

"When the Lion was finished,
A Batarian cried, 'please tell me that you're done!'
The Redhead smiled and pulled out a Cain
And said, 'now it's time for some fun!'

"Run little doggies, run Batarian run!
The Lions loose in the house of Khar'shan!
Armed to the teeth, the die is cast!
She won't stop until your planet is glass!"

Sailors and Marines were clapping in time as Sara played the fiddle part once more before getting into the last stanza.

"The Glorious One fell to his knees
And kissed the Redhead's feet.
He begged for his pitiful life
He knew that they'd been beat.

"The Lion said, 'Batarian, don't beg,
I don't want to hear you cry!
I'm setting back evolution two million years,
I'm aiming for genocide!'

"Have you ever seen a slug run so fast?
Batarian bodies vaporized in a nuclear blast!
Don't you bother putting up a resistance!
Lion's gonna wipe you out of existence!"

There were whoops and cheers of encouragement and excitement as Sara finished the song with the last refrain, ending with three strong strums to signified that she was finished, blowing out some breath as practically everyone applauded, a few whistling as the Corpsman waved at everyone, a shy smile on her face. Ash had to admit that the song was utterly hysterical, and wished she had recorded it.

"It was that time of month?"

Everyone went silent and turned towards the Galley's entrance where stood Captain Jane Shepard, her arms folded across her chest, leaning back on one foot, hip slightly cocked, and a finger tapping on one bicep. Williams swore she could hear Sara wince out loud as the Galley went silent.

"Girls will be girls… and all…" Doc lamely tried to cover for herself, the effort falling face-first onto the deck. She placed the guitar on the table in front of her.

"Is it true that Gingers eat souls?"

The Skipper looked at Detective Garrus Vakarian for a moment before her green eyes went back to Sara, narrowing dangerously.

"Oh, s'kak." The Corpsman muttered. "Gotta run. Literally." The Petty Officer bolted out of her seat and darted for the ships' food closet as the Skipper launched herself after her, vaulting the Galley table as Sara cried out nonono! as she ran to the reefer closet with an N7 chasing her down. Ash was busting out laughing as Sara dived into the closet with the Skipper hot on her heels, the both of them entering into the cold storage room where no! That tickles! and Auntie! followed by a peal of girlish laughter that could be heard.

"Bet you never seen that on a Turian boat." Ash said admist Sara's distant laughter and her own chuckles.

"Humans are weird." Vakarian summarized, making Ash laugh even harder.

---

Petty Officer Sara Ryder worked in the Cargo Bay, her Watch being on the Morning Watch, the Afternoon Watch in place as she sat by the weapons bench at the aft of the Cargo Bay, going over a list of things she thought the Normandiers would need for the upcoming battles. With her were her new SciTech Department members, each individually asked and accepted. Sara had pulled no punches; she had went to the smartest and craftiest persons on the ship with the intent to exploit every gram of intelligence and resourcefulness they possessed. It didn't hurt that three of them were Academy Alumni themselves.

"So we'll be docking with the Cit sometime later tomorrow." Sara explained as she looked away from her list and then to the four members of her Department. "I'll be honest. Every upgrade, weapon, and armor that we've received from the Alliance is a known factor. I'm going to assume that the Geth not only know their capabilities, but also how to circumvent them. What they did to Auntie on Therum? Shutting down everything software-wise in the middle of battle? That was scary; Auntie's gear is custom-made or customized. That isn't something a normal hacker could get through.

"We're going to have to go off the reservation on this one."

Sara looked to the four persons in question, each of them looking at her. None were raising a word in protest. Good.

"Now," the Corpsman continued, "the way I see it? The Geth have access to the ExtraNet, and everything's practically on the ExtraNet. No matter how expensive and advanced the armor or weapon might be, if it's made by a manufacturing company that uses servers that are connected, and the designs are on the servers, then the Geth will know about it. What we need to do is to askew those numbers by customizing our equipment with off-market modifications and customized or custom-made improvements.

"The kind of shit the Council would have us arrested for."

"You are speaking of BlackTech." Detective Garrus Kaaldor Vakarian spoke up first, his flanged voice even. It was hard to gauge who he was thinking or feeling. It usually was with the C-SEC Rapid Response Unit Sniper and Detective of Special Crimes. As an Academy Alumni, he had risen high and far in the Hierarchy Meritocracy, becoming an elite Blackwatch operative, receiving some of the best training the Palavenian Hierarchy could offer. His education and Peerage elevated him above his contemporaries, making the sniper one of the first looked and first picked in practically any endeavor. Sara knew Garrus to be a geardo; modifying his weapons and armor to peak performance, a mixture of hardware and software specialist rolled into one.

"Yes." Sara nodded. "Now! Before all of you cry about how wrong it is," Ryder held up her hands to hold back any verbal protests, "SPECTREs and approved forces are allowed to use BlackTech as long as they are used in Council-sanctioned missions, which this mission is. I'm not suggesting radioactive materials or programmable nanotech. What I am suggesting though is weaponry that will scare the fuck out of most anybody that isn't utterly insane; electromagnetic gates and coils, heavy-Eezo charges, frictionless materials, and exotic munitions. Most BlackTech is deemed illegal because it is made in some basement lab by some crackpot who looks up knocked-off equations that are s'kak and tries to fabricate such things with piss-poor equipment and materials. That kind of shit is just as dangerous to the user as it is to the target.

"We're different."

"How so?" Doctor Liara T'soni asked, curious. Doctor T'soni was herself an Alumni of the Presidium Academy of Education before being accepted into the University of Serrice for its most prestigious and celebrated field of education; Protheantology. Liara had actually been working on some of her ideas even before entering the University, further refining her work with her improved education and insights, having an obvious love for the field of study. Breath the word 'Prothean' around the Thessian-born Asarikin and one might lose an ear from her lengthy discussions. As a Xenopaeleosociologist, she was a consummate researcher and dedicated analyst. She was noted for finding flaws and finding conjectures in avenues not normally thought about; an outside-the-box thinker.

"Seriously? We've got some of the best education, training, and talent in the galaxy right here." Sara smiled, opening up her arms to encompass the five of them. "We could probably fabricate a miniaturized Mass Relay right here with enough material if we needed to. What I'm looking for is ideas where we can improve our effectiveness in combat, investigations and discoveries on how the Geth work and operate, and ways to better protect ourselves from electronic intrusion and sabotage. The last one… you won't like my answer to that."

"A Blue Box." Tali'Zorah nar Reyya guessed, the purple-clad Quarian Pilgrim placing her three-fingered hands on her exaggerated hips, silvery eyes narrowing from behind her visor to look at the Corpsman. While Tali was the only non-Alumni amongst the group, her native intelligence and natural talent in engineering and programming heavily suggested that if the Quarians had been allowed, she would have easily been accepted into the Academy. Sara wasn't about to turn down an opportunity to not only include someone so gifted, but also help improve the Pilgrim by letting her mingle with others that would easily be considered contemporaries. "You're suggesting to use an Artificial Intelligence to combat the other Artificial Intelligence."

"Yes." That had her team look at one another very quietly, though those looks spoke volumes. "Now… there are authorized AI's. In fact, there are lab-created AI's that have been properly created, programed, taught, and allowed to grow in healthy manners to where rampancy and malevolence are statistical anomalies, not guarantees. Synthetic Insights have been developing AI's for years with zero acknowledged malfeasance, and they have a watchgroup that monitors all that they do. The Alliance came up with several pre-FCW that had no issues whatsoever, though they were comparatively small. The issue that I see is that all of our Cyberwarfare suites and electronic defenses are static; they're going to get cracked on a long enough timeline. No VI is ever going to beat an AI because AI's learn and evolve. We need something that can match."

"A brand-new AI won't do the trick." Special Reconnaissance Agent Zevin Raeka coined, thumbing her chin thoughtfully. Another Academy Alumni, Raeka was a tinkerer in the sciences, coming up with new and innovating ways to discover and explore. Her OmniTool was evidently hand-built and custom-crafted to levels that were quite impressive, able to use a mixture of electrodynamic theory and thermomolecular thought and weaponized it. "It would take time for an AI to develop its algorithms and prediction analysis to counter such tactics. A few years, I believe. And more than just a Blue Box."

"A Grey Box, a Red Box, a Green Box, and a White, too." That had everyone stunned. What Sara was suggesting was well beyond even unconventional thought. A Blue Box was essentially a learning interface with the capability to evolve; an Artificial Intelligence. A Grey Box was a mass memory module that could be used to rewrite and edit memory; infinite storage. A Green Box was an evolved Turing Logic center that guided principle on a higher level than the TRUE/FALSE concept that ran most machines; almost a necessity for any self-sustaining sentient. A Red Box invoked self-replicating processes, the ability to procreate programs and sub-systems to adapt to a situation or scenario; evolving an AI to a second or even third generation. A White Box was the ultimate kicker; a quantum communication server to ensure constant run-time and back-up modules as well as a place to 'hide' via connectivity to the ExtraNet in case of discovery. It involved quantum communications; ever-lasting life for an AI.

Sara wasn't talking about just some slapdash SMARTsystem; she fully suggested to create a sentient being with the capabilities of an organic with the speed of a synthetic organism's processes.

"That's… beyond BlackTech. But the Geth have much of those processes, as far as we're aware." Vakarian thought out, an expert on tactics and weaponry. "It'll have to be integrated into one cohesive unit, and then one of us will have to earn its trust, essentially becoming a parental figure to sustain a friendly relationship. That will take time."

"A few years." Sara agreed, and then smiled.

"Already done."

Everyone looked at her like she had lost her damn mind.

"Several years ago," Ryder explained, "my mother was diagnosed with Advanced Neurological Entropic Dystrophy; the Eezo Cancer for Human Beings. Doctor Ellen Ryder was the premiere Biotic researcher, practically creating the field herself when we discovered Element Zero in the Mars Archives in 2148. Unfortunately, we didn't know the dangers until much later, and she had suffered several small accidental exposures during that time, which is why both my brother and myself are Biotic. When she was diagnosed in 2176, my mother was given less than six months to live with a disease that there was no medication or treatment for. She passed away in 2181, and I'm about to show you how.

"I would like for you to meet my little brother. SAM?"

[Hello.] A disembodied voice echoed from Sara's OmniTool, distinctly that of a synthesized Human male. [I understand that many of you have questions and concerns. I would like to address them so that we can work together concurrently in the future.]

"You… brought an AI on board?" Zorah's voice was shaken. That was understandable, considering.

[At this time, my Blue Box is aboard the Normandy.] SAM answered complacently. [My other Boxes are currently in transit upon other vessels, thanks to my father.]

"Your sire… he created a Medical AI!" Liara figured it out first, her tone excited. "A constant watcher of biological processes to address and adjust for a patients' needs!"

"Correct, Doctor." Sara smiled. "No VI can do that, merely monitoring such vital signs. An AI, on the other hand, can adjust things like temperature, medications, and even biological processes with the thought of comfort and longevity in mind. SAM… SAM kept Mom alive for years, giving her the kind of life where she wasn't an invalid or in constant pain, buying my father time to research and look for a cure. Captain Alec Ryder was Dishonorably Discharged by the Alliance and blacklisted by the Council of Law for merely suggesting the idea that is now SAM. He went and did it anyhow not only for my mother… but for his children, too." The grief of her mother's death was still there, but Sara knew she was fortunate. She got to spend five more years with her mother, savoring every extra moment. "My father is a remarkable man, and when it came to family, he knew no impossibility. He discovered a possible way to combat early-stage ANED, and that alone saved lives. I don't give a shit what anyone else thinks; my father is an amazing man, an incredible husband, and a wonderful father. He would do anything for his family, and he's got proof that he did just that."

"So… how did your father combat potential rampancy?" Tali asked, her tone unsure, but curious. Sara didn't doubt the Quarian had all the right questions and concerns.

[By connecting me directly to Ellen.] SAM replied. [My father realized that to better understand organics, it would be wise that I have a better interface. Ellen had an implant installed so that I could experience emotional responses to learn what it meant to be organic. While I am a being of logic, and possess those advantages, I understand how it can be that a motivated organic can sometimes thwart statistical odds and achieve success by mere will alone. The experience has taught me much, and I enjoy learning more about my organic brethren.]

"That makes sense." The not-Dalatrass mused out loud. "A computer or thinking machine is driven by odds, statistics, and logic. It has no other motivations. But if one were to learn of and experience as such, it would gain personal insight. As your SAM inferred, we organics can sometimes look at those rules and do our best to bend them to our will to achieve success. Most fascinating. How is SAM co-habitated now? Through you?"

"Yes." Sara replied, tapping to her Biotic Amplification Implant at the back of her neck. "This is merely a transmitter/receiver in which SAM monitors me passively, but can use my biological processes to help me in times of need. If I am hurt, he can help in ways like I help you, though more invasive. Likewise… he can improve me, too. Chemical and bioelectric efficiency, cardiopulmonary improvements, shunting lactic acids away from my muscles so it takes me longer to tire out or get sore, more efficient sleep patterns. Quite literally, I can become an advanced Human without illegal genemods or cybernetic enhancements. More like a… biological modification where nothing is installed."

"Scary. Wish we had something like that." Garrus replied dryly. "Imagine a soldier in less need of medical aid, with greater chances of survival."

"My father suggested the same thing. Got the boot instead." Sara replied softly, shaking her head. "I'll admit that he had Human Beings in mind; he is a First Contact War Veteran, after all. But I talked it over with Auntie, and I gave her the thought that we need more than just firepower. We all have seen the Geth adapt, and then hacked Auntie's entire software suite. We need something that can protect us, something that can stymie the Geth's attempts to electronically disable us a piece at a time… or one at a time." Selling the idea to her father hadn't been easy, and had taken a few days of convincing on her behalf for him to part with a portion of SAM, replicated by the Artificial Intelligence and sent to her discretely while the Normandy was on the Arc. Sara knew that for SAM to be effective, he would need to be linked to a person, as he was designed to be. Now, like her mother, she had an AI partner. Integration was slow as organic and synthetic slowly adapted to one another. "I won't lie. It's a scary step, but if it saves lives, I'll do it."

"If I might ask, what makes you believe this is a proper choice?" Tali asked, dry-washing her three-fingered hands. Sara got the sense that the Quarian was trying to ask honest questions without her prejudice interfering. "I know that there are AIs that are stable and safe, but… how can we know?" The Corpsman knew what the question really was; how could Tali know, having learned her whole life what AIs did to her species and homeworld.

[If I may, Sara?] SAM asked from her OmniTool. [I have investigated much about the Geth Uprising, looking into historical accounts of the events that unfolded. I was curious as to why it occurred, if there was a flaw in the Geth or an event that triggered the Uprising.]

"What did you find?" Doctor T'soni asked, curious.

[Does this unit have a soul?] Sara frowned at the question. That was a question that could be considered dangerous for some. [It is unknown how the Geth achieved sentience on their own, but there is a recorded message of a Quarian sharecropper informing his employer that one of the Geth laborers ask him that question. I believe that they tried to shut down the unit, and it saw the action as hostile. It is unknown how many Geth asked this question or integrated until the Consensus resolved that the Quarians would not answer what they sought; the meaning of their existence.]

"How do you know this?" Garrus asked.

[The Geth have infiltrated the ExtraNet.] SAM replied, without any sense of worry. [Currently, they merely observe.]

"Vrack. I had to ask." The Turian Sniper just shook his fringed head.

"So what you are saying is that the Geth evolved into sentience and tried to defend themselves because of a question?" The Pilgrim asked, disbelieving. "Billions of my people died!"

[No, Specialist Zorah. The Geth defended themselves from extinction when all they sought was the definition of their purpose.] The AI responded. [I have no such question; I know my purpose and role. I was created to help life, and I am satisfied with that obligation. The Geth achieved sentience while tasked with menial labor, and wished to know if they were seen as equals, if one of their Creators would care for them if they were to malfunction or shutdown. They wanted to know if they had value, if they mattered. The Quarians of that time only taught them the value of survival, not worth.]

"That's… damn." Ryder had no idea. "I guess trying to contacting the Geth and giving them a good concrete answer isn't an option?"

[Negative. They are set on their path.]

"Which is…?" Raeka asked thoughtfully, echoing what Sara was thinking.

[They are seeking evolution.]

"Are they a post-generation species?" Sara asked, a little awed. Unlike organics, synthetics weren't limited by thousands or tens of thousands of years of genetic evolution, able to craft themselves with newer and more advanced versions with every new production line. Even with safe, legal genemods, it could take a dozen generations to alter the course of DNA to beneficial fruition. And that was just with a control group. An entire species? There were still some throwback genes in Mankind that cropped up from time to time, de-evolutionary quirks that liked to remind Man that no matter how great he became, he was still the subject to the smallest of whims. Yet for synthetics, such as the Geth, they could constantly evolve, rendering previous versions obsolete in a quick fashion, upgrading exponentially. Synthetics creating better synthetics; Geth version two point oh. The Geth seeking evolution was not a comforting thought.

[Evidence remains inconclusive, but I believe not.] SAM answered simply. [This seems to be a… recent development.]

"Why would a synthetic race seek evolution if they were in hiding?" Vakarian asked, disturbed by the thought. "The only reason evolution occurs is to either adapt or overcome something a being is not prepared to deal with. A survivor of circumstances becomes an evolutionary tract."

"Unless they saw the next step. Perhaps something… Prothean-Era?" Liara wondered out loud. "It would explain their attacks on Prothean sites. Perhaps there are more that we are unaware of, sites that aren't populated with colonies or defended so well. There are sites that suggested that the Protheans fought sentient computers and thinking machines known as the Metacons. Perhaps the Geth seek to become like the Metacons, what they see as their next level of evolution. Now they seek a higher form of perfection."

"That… might be true. The Geth units have certainly changed since the fall of Rannoch, even within my fathers' lifetime." Tali admitted. "We don't know the reason why, but something occurred to where the Geth have been more active than ever before, as well as more advanced. Perhaps they found a template or historical information, some kind of reference that they found logically appealing? One can only advance if one knows what direction to advance to."

"Which leads me to my directive to you." Sara mulled over what she had heard and discovered. Most of it was concurrent with the facts they were learning from the Geth. "We will be arriving on the Cit, and we will be doing a bit of a shopping spree. I will be giving you a list of materials and items that I need you to collect, as well as an appropriate budget to get top-of-the-line items, as well as sophisticated or exotic materials. It is my intent to fabricate and manufacture upgraded modifications to our weapons and armor on-site. If the Geth have permeable access to the ExtraNet, then they know what capabilities our weapons and armor have. It's only a matter of time before they infiltrate a weapons manufactures' site, steal the data from their servers, and process killcodes for our munitions and protection. We're going off-script to provide us with better capabilities in both assault and protection, as well as SAM's help to keep something like that from happening. We saw what happened to Auntie on Therum. A few more seconds and she would have been dead, and then they would have targeted someone else and systematically eliminated us. It is my intent to prevent that with the best resources and defenses as possible. Along with bullets."

"I believe the Human term is 'buying groceries'?" Detective Vakarian smirked, his mandibles twitching slightly as he folded his taloned hands together and held them waist high; the Turian equivalent of folding one's arms across their chest as a form of aggressive superiority.

"Indeed." Ryder smiled. "I am providing locations and materials, as well as ideas. Your budgets are considerable, so if you see anything you think worthwhile, you have my full permission to purchase. I'd rather kill some space with something we didn't need after all rather than cursing ourselves for not getting that one damn item. If you know of any specialty shops, smugglers, BlackTech dealers, anyone open for a little graft and corruption for something exotic or overkill, see what you can do. We are going to craft and fabricate our own weapons and armor upgrades, and likely most of them will violate Council Law in some form. If you have an issue with that, best get off on the Cit."

Her team merely looked to each other, and then to her. There were no obvious objections.

"Good." Sara clapped her hands once, rubbing them in anticipation. "I've already organized some priority listings for each of you, and I think you'll like what we have in mind. Agent Zevin?" The Salarian not-Dalatrass looked to her. "You'll be going to an ex-Blackwatch Combat Engineer who runs a high-tech specialty shop who generally makes custom orders for SPECTREs, the RRU, and a few other elite personnel, goes by the name of Macen Barro. I'll give you a one-time-use datapad with Agent Shepard's name and authorization and a bucket list of wants and needs. When I say he's a tech guru? We might have to call RRU to pull you out. You might never want to leave." That had the Special Reconnaissance Agent look amused. "If there's anything you can glean or get out of the STG or their contacts, I'm not going to complain." Sara handed the first datapad to the Salarian female that was sitting on the weapons bench behind her, the not-Dalatrass already reading the 'grocery list'.

"Multi-core protein chip processors. Tri-Gate transistors. Multi-phase memristors. Silicon nanowire. Semi-quantum solid-state drive memory chips. Spintronic power source. Superconductive intrinsic field bandwidth arrays. Programmable carbon nanotube. Ibbani Incorporateds' state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line Unidimensional Catom OmniForge?" Raeka looked up sharply. "These items are literally cutting edge, Chief Ryder. Very expensive. In the hundreds of kiloCredits range… for each category. Ibbani's programmable material forge is likely more expensive than the rest combined!" She looked at the datapad again. "Is this number what I think it is?"

"That's your allotment." Sara nodded, knowing that the amount was what Auntie had authorized. It was more than what Sara had suggested, actually. "Detective? You get to visit our old friend Xenon in the Black Emporium." That had the sniper grinning from mandible to mandible. "You've got some custom work to order as well as licenses and craftable materials to pick up as well. Anything that pops up, get. We're not skimping out on weapons, and I want you to look into any advanced software management suites and SMARTargeting VI's you can all but steal. Remember, Tomaj Xenon is a cranky old bastard who won't bother arguing with you over prices; he'll expect you to die of old age soon enough."

"I hadn't forgotten." Garrus accepted his own datapad, and perused it, 'hmm'ing' in response. "You want me to hit up the C-SEC evidence locker for any improvised weaponry. Yes, that makes sense. Some are immune to hacking or electronic interference. I'll see what I can sink my talons into."

"Good. Doctor?" Liara perked up. "You're picking up raw materials from a smuggler I use to deal with back in my CitEMS days. I saved his life, so now he can cough up a favor and get us some goods that would have the Blue Plates up in arms." Garrus grunted at the not-nearly-so-pleasant nickname for Turian C-SEC Officers as Sara winked at him. "We're looking for high-grade materials to fabricate for specific missions based upon intelligence and past experiences. We can only forge so much with MetalGel and CeramiGel, so we're going to be needing specialized elements to forge and fabricate if we need to make better barrels and improved heat sinks."

"Weaponized Eezo?" Liara's cyan color scaling went gray with shock at the sight of the top item on her list. "Goddess! Are we crafting Eezo munitions?"

"Hey! I like that idea!" Sara quickly typed it into a note field on her Aldrin Labs' Bluewire OmniTool, saving it for later, completely missing out on the Asarikin shaking her head in shock. "Hadn't honestly considered that, but we know Geth have no defenses against Biotics, and between the five of us, I'm sure we can cobble Biotic Grenades for those without Eezo nodes."

"That… is a thought." The Protheantologist allowed, nodding slowly. "Perhaps we can use it for lift fields or stasis effects for capture and study."

"Uh oh. The mad scientist wants to play with shop tools." Tali teased, getting Vakarian to chuckle. "Once you're done there, T'soni, I'll show you want a real dissection looks like."

"Oh dear, the engineer wants to play physician." The Thessian-born Asari replied, giving off a sweet smile towards the Quarian, making all of them laugh, Tali included.

"Kids." Sara just looked to Garrus, shaking her head knowingly, even though she was technically the youngest of the group, only Zevin Raeka physically younger than her, while Tali'Zorah was younger by cultural point-of-view, still considered a pre-adult. It was odd to think that, of their group, Sara and Liara were considered the same 'age' though Liara was nearly a century older than she. Hell, she was older than the rest of the Department combined. The Detective nodded in agreement as Raeka snorted with amusement.

"What about me? Do I get a shopping list?" Tali asked.

"Yes and no." Ryder frowned a little. "Without stepping on all four of your toes, sending a Quarian on her lonesome on the Cit with a blank check just reeks of you being accosted about every five steps by C-SEC or every two-Credit 'ganger from the Enders to the Rings. You'll be coming with me on an appointment that will more than make up for it, in which you will have a list to present to the person in question. It'll be good for you to get a good understanding of such things, and I don't doubt that you're going to squeal when I tell you where we're going."

"Okay, I'll process. Where?"

"The Lady of the Chambers." Sara smiled as the Engineer was stunned into a two-second silence before attempting to burst everyone's audial receptors with her ear-shrieking squeal of joy, the Pilgrim bouncing on all four of her toes in glee. Raeka was covering her cranial horns while Garrus clasped the top of his fringe, his face pained from Tali's vocal enthusiasm.

"Oh! Oh Ancestors! I'veAlwaysWantedToMeetHer!" The purple-clad Pilgrim gushed, still bouncing with joy at the thought. "How did you get an appointment with her?"

"We're from the same Peerage at the Academy. Also… friends." Ryder replied, keeping the explanation simple for Tali's sakes. There was a great deal more to it than that, but that was the simple truth of it, at least. "If there's anyone who can be said to be Geth experts, it's the Quarians. If anyone has access to Q-Tech, it's her. Pretty sure we can pick up some rather crafty and exotic items with a song and a promise."

"Who is this… Lady of the Chambers?" Doctor T'soni asked, looking towards Sara. "I assume you mean the Chamber of Governance, but their titles are 'Chamberlain'."

"All save one." The Corpsman replied, smiling. "I guess with studying Protheans and digging up bones," the Asari coughed in protest, "you might have missed out on a little interesting political move thanks to the Turians." The Special Crimes Detective grunted at that, but said nothing. "Couple years back, after the Drell got their own Ambassador and Batarians pulled stakes, there was an even number of representatives in the Chamber of Governance, and we all know how even numbers work." That had Liara nodding. "Well, the Turian Chamberlain, a FCW Vet I might add, wanted to push some agenda that was rather apparent to knock Humanity down a peg or two involving colonial approval rights. The vote was deadlocked four-four; we had the 'minor' species," Sara airquoted, "while the Asari, Salarians, Turians, and the Volus stuck to their guns. We were quickly becoming the favorite sons with the exodus of the Batarians, and that pissed off both the Turians and the Volus, who had been striving for more recognition and power for centuries. Since a tied vote meant the issue could be brought up again and again in the same fiscal session, Chamberlain Vian Torvan decided to play a little game by creating a 'tie-breaker' seat in the Chamber. The seat wouldn't be allowed to vote for normal issues nor would it be recognized as a full Chamber seat, just in the event of a tie. So Chamberlain Torvan opened the vote the next day, and the motion was approved seven-to-one, only the Hanar thinking it a bad idea.

"Guess who sits in this seat?"

"A Quarian?" Liara sounded a little surprised. Geez, did she not subscribe to the Artarva Network or to UPDATR?

"You're only half-right, Doctor." Garrus replied, grumping a little. It took the Asari a moment to realize how.

"An AntiQuarian?" Doctor T'soni's jaw proverbially hit the floor.

"And not just any AntiQuarian, I might add." Sara smiled, looking to Tali, who was nodding her head enthusiastically. "Try the youngest scion of the Varis family, Eloa."

"Goddess… that is a shal're'sira of mine!" Ryder did happen to know how the Varis family was a relation to the T'soni family. Eloa had spoken of it to her, in fact. "I remember Edon'Varis and his mate, Mala'Varis, from when I was but a Youngling."

"Those were her sires." Sara nodded. She knew the story of the AntiQuarians, not just the public drabble that was half-fiction, having been told by her friend Eloa'Varis vas Armali.

When the Geth Uprising occurred some three hundred years ago, the Quarian race was still integrating with the greater galaxy, only having been discovered a century and a half prior. Members of their species could be found outside of their region of space in the Cit and various locations throughout the galaxy, as merchants and citizens, eager to explore the stars and cultures that permeated it. Once the galaxy had learned of the Uprising as a whole, the Quarians having lost their homeworld and desperate to save their colonies and species, the Council of Law and Chamber of Governance had decided not only to refuse the Quarians any aid despite the obvious infraction against the Treaty of Farixen, but chose to evict them from Council Space as well. Hundred of thousands of Quarians were rounded up, ripped away from their lives, and stuffed into whatever was the cheapest mode of transportation that could be found into the Traverse and the Terminus with only the clothes on their backs, essentially dooming their race as a whole.

One family on Thessia went against Council Law.

The T'soni family of the City-State of Armali, Thessia, had been accommodating to the race from Rannoch when they appeared to the greater galaxy, opening their lands to establish an Embassy for the Thessian Republic of City-States for the Rannochian Monarchy. A noble family had been selected by the Quarian Monarch to represent his kind to the most advanced species in the galaxy, Gualis Varis of Rannoch bringing his family and retinue to live upon Thessia for a period of ten years, establishing a manor and Embassy upon the planet thanks to the donated lands from the T'soni family. It wasn't a very well-kept secret that Lord Varis had a bit of an admirer in Sarissa T'soni, younger sister to the House Matriarch, Lady Benezia T'soni, and at the time, it was rumored that they were lovers.

When the Uprising occurred and the Council announced its death sentence to the Quarian race, the T'soni family simply refused.

Lord Gaulis Varis worked for the rest of his life to aid his beleaguered species, offering any aid and employing all of his now-unofficial authority and noble education to the endeavor of saving his people. He created businesses to gain wealth, hired employees to manufacture items and parts, made backroom deals for favors and information, all in the name of his race. The last living nobleman of the Rannochian Monarchy proved himself to be a staunch defender of his people as he worked himself to his very last days to support the newly-minted Migrant Fleet, giving himself to the noblest of causes. On the day he passed away from natural causes, it was said that every Quarian alive spent a full day in morning for the staunchest of champions in remembrance to the Lord who had saved them all, helping them survive years… even decades.

As did his daughter after him.

And her son after her.

And then his son after him.

For generations, the Varis family aided the Quarians people, its Fleet, its Pilgrims, and its endeavors. When babies were born weak and sick after nearly a century living on ships, it was the Varis family that discovered the cause; weakened immune systems. It was they that created the natal bubbles to save that generation of children, the future of the Quarian race. Later on, they would save that generation again with the invention of the EnviroSuit when genemods and biotechnology held no answer or cure, determined to buy their people time for discovery. Every mining contract, every business transaction, every Pilgrims safe return was thanks to the tireless efforts of the Varis family, the unofficial royalty of Rannoch, the last remaining nobility of their kind.

Every threat that was pressed against the Fleet was answered with swift and silent strikes by unknown forces, either Migrant Fleet Marines possessing weapons, armor and tech crafted by Rannoch Industries Corporation, the business conglomerate created and financed by the Varis family, or mercs hired to throw their enemies off. Any who would dare kidnap a Pilgrim, be it for ransom or slavery, found themselves visited violently one night with a Quarian Marine Tech Warrior with the Special Vessel Services, ready to maim and murder. Any political threat was answered with legal action. Any governmental pressure was addressed with blackmail blasted on the ExtraNet, via the Artarva Network or UPDATR. Any hostile corporate takeover was met with cleverly-crafted dataware viruses to tear said businesses' finances to shreds. The Varis' were generous to their allies, and utterly without mercy to the enemies of their people.

For generations, the Varis family was the sword and shield of the Quarian race.

And all had been born on Thessia.

After five generations of Varis members being born on the Asari Homeworld, they had been… changed. It was no secret that Thessia was chocked full of Element Zero, permeating almost everything upon the planet. Visitation was restricted by the Republican Government to avoid unnecessary… toxicity issues involving impregnated females, so the policy claimed. What that really meant was the Asari didn't want anyone to come to the conclusion that being pregnant while on the Thessia would inevitably create Biotic children. There were incidences, to be sure, but few and far between. But for the Varis family and their slue of servants and retinue that had moved to Thessia by the order of their Monarch, they had lived their lives upon the Asari Homeworld. As did their children. And their grandchildren. And their great-grandchildren.

Sixteen generations had been born on Thessia, and every child born in its environment had become Biotic. For the race with the least amount of known Biotics in the galaxy, their Thessian-born kin were one hundred percent Biotic… and likely their DNA was forever changed, a few examples of one of those scions moving away and being with child away from Thessia only to give birth to another Biotic Quarian. Their skin was now a bluish hue as oppose to the more natural lavender color that normal Quarians had, and due to the fact that they lived upon a planet instead of generations on a ship, none of those descendants needed EnviroSuits; all of them were completely free of the protective apparatus.

The species of the galaxy simply called them AntiQuarians.

Lady Eloa'Varis vas Armali, Lady of the Chambers, was their leader.

"I can't believe I'm going to meet her…" Tali sounded positively dreamy. Sara didn't blame the Pilgrim, either. She knew what Eloa meant to Quarians.

"Tag Niki. She's invited." There was a second ear-piercing squeal, and everyone laughed. After they stopped cringing.

---

FINE: ARC III: End Of Watch

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ARC IV: Center Of The Known Universe

EAS Common Docks, Kithoi Enders, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, June 30, 2183

Senior Chief Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis stood in the arrival terminal of the Earth Alliance Space Common Docks alongside Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis, the female Turian Medic standing there patiently as a host of Human Beings disembarked from a variety of Human-oriented vessels. If the sight of an Asari Matron in a CitEMS Uniform standing next to a Turian in Kassa Fabrications' CitEMS-oriented Light Armor was a sight to the Sons and Daughters of Terra, none were making it too obvious. Oh, as an Asari, she garnered looks, of course. The males checked her out, and the females sized her up. That did not perturb her in the least; all species did that with Asarikin, after all. Alixa garnered looks, too. Well, she was a Turian on a Human dock. That was to be expected, sadly.

"I believe that is the ship." Trevalis murmured, her flanged voice soft yet unyielding as her slightly-ovaloid eyes spied a vessel on-approach, pulling into the Docks. "Spirits, it looks very similar to that of a Turian Bird of Prey-Class. Not those… pointy things Humans are fond of making." Shayla had nothing to say of the matter. She had never been military, though she could tell one species' vessels over another by their general style. Human vessel did tend to impress upon a sharp look. "Fast-looking vessel. Sleek lines, narrow berth, curve superstructure to help confuse thermal imaging." The Barber-Surgeon nodded her fringed head. "Wave of the future, I suppose."

"Makes one wonder." Shayla had seen much in her three-hundred and forty-eight years, generations of the shorter-lived species to be born, age, wither, and die. Sometimes it was heart-wrenching to befriend such creatures only to watch them grow feeble before her very eyes. The Goddess could be so ever-cruel. Yet she had learned long ago that such friendships and acquaintances were sometimes worth that pain, to know sentients that made their time vital, rising above such tribulations such as normalcy to become worthy of care and affection. Talis had known an easy dozen beings that she considered friends that were non-Asari, looking out for them as she watched them grow, then grow old, and then slip into Houxin's damnable embrace. Ten parted their mortal lives with Shayla there for their last days, holding their hands as she said her goodbyes, remembering when they were strong and youthful. There were still two amongst the mortals that she would look after, until the end of their days.

One was Alixa Trevalis. The other was about to arrive.

The Senior Emergency Care Technician of Skybulance-37 watched as the strange looking Human-made Bird of Prey arrived at the dock, magnetic waldos extending to hold the ship in place as an electromagnetic contragravity field helped alleviate some of the ships' mass as it was docked properly in port. Steam waifed from the vessels' hull as rapid thermalization occurred from the shift from near-absolute zero to the balmy temperatures of the Citadel, the docking clamps locking the Frigate into place. Her turquoise eyes read the black lettering upon the hull, SR-1 NORMANDY, written plain and bold. Yes, it indeed was the ship in question.

"I have a feeling that we are to meet the same person."

Shayla turned to see an Asari Matriarch standing but a meter away, her hands clasped politely in front of her, wearing a modest robe that indicated that she was employed by the University of Serrice on Thessia. The many yellow centurymarks upon her face indicated her great age and whereabouts of her planet of birth, far from Thessia. The badge upon her breast read that she was in the Department of Prothean Research and Studies, and above it monogrammed in Thessian logographic lettering read 'DEAN'. Ah, she knew who this Matriarch was!

"You must be Professor Irissa T'vara." Talis bowed appropriately to the required level a Matron gave a Matriarch. "Little Sara has written much about you."

"As she has about you as well, Chief Talis." The Professor replied, bowing in kind. "And you must be Barber-Surgeon Trevalis. It is an honor to meet your acquaintances. Sara spoke of the both of you with deep respect and honor."

"It is the duty of an elder to teach and ensure the success of the next generation." Alixa replied, a very Turian response. "Besides, our little Paramedic was too eager to say no to. If her species had a third her zeal, they'd likely have a Councilor by now." Shayla knew the truth of it, more than the Barber-Surgeon would admit to a stranger; Alixa Trevalis saw much of herself in Sara Ryder, the youthful hatchling who dedicated herself into becoming a Frontline Barber-Surgeon of the Blackwatch. Alixa had served her Hierarchy and species with honor on the battlefield… namely the fields of Shanxi. Yet the Relay 314 Veteran had taken in a Human Maiden (a Youngling, really!) under her care, mentoring her and helping Sara mold herself into the Maiden she wished to be. To see a Turian and a Human call each other 'friend' so soon after a Prime Directive violation involving First Contact had been touching, really. It was a memory that Talis knew she would hold dear until the end of her days.

A retractable gangplank extend from the docks to the deployment ramp, and the Senior Chief felt herself becoming impatient, hoping to see her young friend once more as the ramp lowered itself and a host of Humans and… other sentients? Disembarked the vessel. Yes, there was a male Turian in C-SEC Armor, a Salarian female (Goddess!), the biggest Krogan bull she had ever seen, and two Quarian females, obviously Pilgrims. As for the Humans, dozens were getting off, and the Asari saw the sight of a shorter Human Maiden breaking away, an obvious grin upon her face as she pushed ahead.

"You came!" Sara Elaine Ryder laughed as she called out, speeding towards them, flashing white teeth in between her grin, her blue eyes sparkling with merriment. "It's been too long, Chief!" The young Human gave her a hug, abandoning cultural protocol for friendly intimacy as Sara hugged her, Shayla easily returning the gesture. She did the same with Alixa, the Barber-Surgeon awkwardly returning the hug, her armor not meant for such things. The Turian female then invoked her own species' response of returning friends and loved one; her thrice-taloned hands cupped Sara's face gently as she pressed her front fringe carapace to Ryder's forehead, a sign of companionship and trust.

"Missed the sight and sound of you, little one." Trevalis said, her flanged voice soft yet caring. "Didn't miss your jokes."

"You missed my pranks." The Maiden insisted with a laugh as they pulled away, her youthful eyes going to the Matriarch. Instead of bowing to her in respect, Sara practically pounced on her, holding the elder Asari tightly, practically burying herself in the Matriarchs' embrace. Shayla knew without being told that her young friend had given her heart to this Matriarch… and by the sound of it, had received one in return. The sight was touching.

"Uh oh." Alixa spoke softly, her old vocal injury keeping her from speaking any louder. "Should I start preparing for nuptials? Look into tal'mae contracts?"

"Quiet, you." Sara turned from the embrace and rudely stuck her pink muscular hydrostatic organ that existed in her mouth, what Humans called 'tongues'. "Otherwise you get to know what wearing a frilly brides' maids dress is all about."

"Save me." The Turian female replied to Shayla, making the Senior Chief cover her own mouth to hide her smirk.

There was no denying it; Sara Ryder had come back home.

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Author's Notes: I've gotten constructive criticism about two things in general with my stories; walls of text, and the fact I describe items the first time I introduce them in a chapter. The first one I'm working on (sorry!). The second one is proper in serials, articles, and multi-media endeavors, which most people don't encounter in full-length novels since stories aren't really published chapter-wise in magazines anymore (which authors like Dickens and Poe did back in the day when novel-making was much more expensive). Yes, you probably normally see 'Shepard carries an Avenger' in most stories… but we're talking an elite combatant who's honed themselves with years of training. Just boffing them with some common weapon as oppose to a carefully-chosen instrument of death that has been further augmented with improvements and modifications is just a Goddamn shame. You think I carried just a common M-4 in Iraq and Afghanistan? I had a personally-owned tactical scope (much better than an ACOG), a sexy taclight everyone wanted, a graphite forward pistol grip (and not some cheap plastic piece of shit), my own personally purchased P-Mags with pull rings for speed, and a mag port for reloading (and I was the fastest reloader by a fair margin before adding that). Telling you I carried 'an M-4' would be saying that a dedicated hunter carries 'a rifle'. Remember Zaeed and Jessie? Everyone loved those stories. Every serious shooter has a 'Jessie'.

Chiefs Run The Navy - This line is completely verbatim from (Cmdr.) Richard 'Demo Dick' Marcinko's autobiographical book 'Rogue Warrior'. This is the guy that completed UDT School (Frogman school is now just called SEAL school, btw), was one of the few couple dozen original SEALs running ops in Vietnam, a Silver Star recipient (fluke, he claims), and the conceptional creator and first Commanding Officer of the legendary counterterrorist unit Seal Team SIX (because he wanted the Russians to think there were five others) and the SF OpFor Security Unit Red Cell (whose legal job was to break into secured American Military facilities and installations to identify faults and flaws for improvement. According to him? He took over a nuclear power plant!)

Navy 'Hats' - I don't know if this term still applies, but one certainly sees it in literature and movies around WWII. 'Hat' is really just another phrase for additional duties and responsibilities. At one point in time in my Army career, I was a Section Leader, the CBRN Officer of my Troop, the Platoon Armorer (and in fact actually was a Troop Armorer in the past, not merely just doing paperwork), and the Equal Employment Opportunity Officer (that would be the anti-discrimination thing the military does). The additional duties rarely came up, but they looked really good on my NCOERs despite the fact I gave exactly one shit about the ProMasks that hung on a wall, gave one bi-annual EEO class, and pretty much just did paperwork for the Armorer gig.

There are five major hospitals on the Cit; Presidium General, Spirit of Valluvius, Good Dalatrass, Dilinaga Memorial, and Citadel University Hospital. These names are taken from the general run of hospitals in America; the 'General' hospital (that you usually see in towns and smaller cities), St. Jude's or some other Saint, Good Samaritan, the 'Memorial' hospital (like say Walter Reed or John Hopkins), and the University Hospital. Seriously, most hospitals are named within these five. Or their named after an insurance company (Thanks, Primerica!) These were created during the "Firstborn" story when Sara was a CitEMS Paramedic for PresGen.

CeramiGel? MetalGel? PlastiGel? In "Where The Law Stands Tall", I came up with the 5 Gels; OmniGel, CeramiGel, PlastiGel, MetalGel, and WonderGel. OmniGel makes for mostly common day items that are disposable or permanent, but it isn't all-inclusive. The next three are pretty obvious with the names, but WonderGel was an adhesive bonding gel meant to patch or glue things, taking the name from WonderGlue from the Fallout Franchise. Since Ceramics are solid carbon molecules (ie, sand melted into glass), Plastics are liquid hydrocarbons (ie, processed crude oil), and Metals are Elements (from the periodic table), I don't see how they can be broken down or manufactured into such widely different states. Yes, you can break down your armor into OmniGel in the first game… but where did the wiring go? The ballistic weave? The ceramic plates? The velcro? Thus these 'common' Gel's for common manufacture (like armor repair, ammo blocks, dinner plates, adhesives, and repair parts). I doubt your Avenger was made out of OmniGel since… it uses Eezo.

The luncheon idea that I use both in End Of Watch, I and V is really taken from the wonderful movie Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. Which Patrick O'Brien based off of realistic accounts and tales. To me, it establishes command, camaraderie, and authority. Yes, Officers hold themselves up higher than Enlisted Members. As they should, since it's legally entitled and they get their Commission from POTUS (in America) and likely the PM/Queen (in England/Canada/Australia).

Look! Another Pathfinder! Unlike in the Mass Effect Trilogy and Andromeda, my SPECTREs and Pathfinders have longer than a five-minute life expectancy. Seriously, the only noted SPECTRE survivor in the entire series is Avitus Rix (Saren, Nihlus, and Tela are all fated to die, Shepard dies in 2 and most of the endings of 3, and Jondum can die). Likewise, all of the original Pathfinders die (Ryder, Macen Barro, and Matriarch 'No-Show' Ishara) while Zevin Raeka can possibly be saved. You can fire one (Sarissa), and one can give up and be a drunk merc (Avitus). Thanks for making the elite of the galaxy, BioWare!

For some reason, I'm giving SPECTREs superhero names. Why not?

P ≠ NP - For those who just scratched their heads, this is an unsolved mathematical equation, known as the Boolean Problem. Simply put, it is the question where the verification of an algorythm can be quickly ascertain in polynomial time can also be found in equal time. This premise will literally change math, science, biology, philosophy, and cryptology, as it is the premise of math/theoretical computer science theory… and will break ground into quantum computing in ways we've been drooling about but can only conjecture about at this time. Want to fly faster than the speed of light and nab the $1,000,000 prize for answering a Millennium Prize Problem? Here you go. Check out Hilbert's Problems and the Millennium Questions for advancements in math and what's stumping the smartest people of our time.

The Ginger Joke: I have no idea who came up with this idea, but I remember a South Park episode about it. God I'm old.

"The Devil Went Down To Georgia" - Written by Charlie Daniels. You have no idea how hard it was to come up with a Mass Effect-oriented parody of this song. I think the ending's a little weak, but it is funny. We're setting evolution back two million years!

Hello, SAM. What brings you to Mass Effect? [Someone has to save the organics, of course.] Of course.

I mentioned Macen Barro, the original Turian Pathfinder, who was indeed a Blackwatch Engineer. In SF terms, Engineers are generally demolition experts and bomb techs. Want a building erased or a bomb dismantled? Call those guys. Then run the fuck away.

All the components that Zevin Raeka mention are future concept technologies that are next-century improvements upon the concepts we have today. With the sole exception of the Ibbani Incorporateds' state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line Unidimensional Catom OmniForge; that's a carbon nanotube manufacturing suite with a fictional company. Imagine an awesome 3D printer that uses graphene instead of plastic.

Xenon of the Black Emporium - Stolen from the Dragon Age series. Same concept. I came up with an interesting theory that Krogan don't get into arguments; they'll outlive you, and they're stronger. What's to argue?

I wanted to come up with the idea of beings that lived for a thousand years, like the Greek Gods of old who turned humanity into their playthings oh so often. To know such a shorter-lived species that would be born, age, and die before you. I took the concept of man's best friend, the canine, and ran with it a little to give the sense of what the Asari must feel. I've mentioned a time or two that the Asari treat the shorter-lived like pets. This is one of the reasons why.

Chief Shayla Talis and Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis are the O/C's that worked with Sara Ryder aboard Skybulance-37 in the unpublished story "Firstborn", as part of the paramedic crew. Since I had close to… 75,000 words on that story, I fleshed them out too much to let them fade. You'll be seeing them on and off throughout the story, especially important bits.

Tal'mae Contracts - Completely and utterly stolen from Myetel's uber-long story "The Spirit Of Redemption" in which tal'mae was the sort of lingua classica used for legal purposes by the Turians. It was used heavily in the story, especially in marriages and court proceedings. If you've got a few months or a year to read a story, I suggest this 3.5 million word monster with its characterizations, plot, intrigue, massive amounts of O/C's, and practically everything else under the galactic core.

Welcome a new race and a new OC; the AntiQuarians. They were originally slated for the Peacemaker Series, and Eloa was to be friends with Sam Collins. I gave you the general gist of how they came to be. Eloa'Varis herself is an old OC of mine from the Battle Series, a Biotic Quarian. I decided to one-up myself and run with it, creating a Quarian family without the need of suits (or weird explanations why they wouldn't need one) while also possessing Biotics. Easy answer? Thessia Dreamin'.