"I can hold my breath, I can bite my tongue,
I can stay awake for days, if that's what you want.
Be your number one.
I can fake a smile, I can force a laugh,
I can dance and play the part, if that's what you ask.
Give you all I am.
I can do it… I can do it… I can do it…
But I'm only human,
And I bleed when I fall down.
I'm only human,
And I crash and I break down.
Your words in my head, knives in my heart,
You build me up and then I fall apart.
'Cause I'm only human."
- "Only Human", Christina Perri, sung by Federal Marshal Samantha Collins at a Citadel karaoke bar, 2183
EAS Common Docks, Kithoi Enders, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 15, 2183
Author's Note: A little more Cit time. Some much-needed R and R for our intrepid crew. They've had a hell of a week.
There will be a little more of the Cit seen, some tie-ins, and some of the long-game planning that I'll continue on that will be seen throughout the story.
For now? Discover Shepard's favorite spot on the Citadel!
The SSV Normandy pulled into the Earth Alliance Space Common Docks in a berth meant for Sixth-Rate Military Vessels in the Kithoi Enders, the tail end of the Kithoi Arm of the Citadel. Clearance had already been granted by Citadel Security Services Space Traffic Control as the Harbormaster Program logged in the incoming vessel, naticles unfolding to 'capture' the ship in a contragravity field as well as mechanical berthing arms as the Stealth Reconnaissance Frigate was locked into port. Post-flight checks and inspections were conducted by the necessary crew members of the Normandy, from the Flight Lieutenant to the Bosun's Mates, while on the exterior Systems Alliance deployed Sailors performed external checks of the vessel for any possible damages or potential threats, taking twenty minutes before the Heavy Helium Fusion Thrusters finally cooled down enough and the hull had reached near atmospheric temperature from the cold grips of space. Dock E15 itself was populated by more than a few sapients; most of the Systems Alliance Military. There were Marines who guarded the Earth Alliance Space Docks, armed with Hahne-Keder M500 Storm Shotguns, eying anyone entering the Docks as their identities were scanned and their business inquired. There were CitCitzs with family members in the Military who were doing the right thing and greeting their loved ones as they came to dock. There were Ministry of Defense civilian employees who did the jobs that the Military didn't have the personnel or the education for, filling in roles so that more members could serve their duties to safeguard Humanity.
And there were reporters, too.
The deployment ramp of the SSV Normandy dropped to shore as dozens of members exited the vessel admists the view of drone recorders, OmniTool pic and still-takers, embedded vid-capture programs on visors, and even old-school digital photographic picture devices for long-range shots as Normandiers exited the craft. A few of those waiting were loved ones or were hoping to reach that status, hoping to catch the eye of a Sailor or Marine for temporary or permanent romantic purposes. Some were on official business. Several were reporters and journalists. One Human man was a very dedicated fan, bordering on obsessive. All had come to see the Normandy return, knowledge of its destination fed out by a diplomat in the Human Embassy who had sold the information to a small-time information broker, who then turned around and sold it to several media social network sources. Three hours before the Stealth Frigate had arrived in Widow Space, its impeding arrival had been released on CNN, Citadel Network News covering the story about the recent events involving the vessel that was quickly becoming a legend, especially with the events of the Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros).
Its arrival was announced with Tweets and Chirps, InstaGrams and ARTARVABlooms, hashtags and EN-links. Amongst the members of the Sons and Daughters of Terra, the ship that was captained by Humanity's First SPECTRE and crewed by what was quickly being believed to be the most lethal team in Human history was seen as the chariot of the Gods. Heroes and legends graced its decks, and the popularity of its members espoused by the media paled to the popularity felt by a great deal of the public. Hundreds of sapients were crowding the Dock, kept at a distance by Alliance Marines. A majority of them were Human beings, but not all of them. Turians and Salarians were interspersed through the crowed, Asari Maidens filtering in. Holographic lightboard placards were held up with words of gratitude written, and at least three marriage proposals were displayed, one surprisingly held by a Human woman who made her offer to a certain Turian resident of the Frigate. Salarian males were ready to serve at a moments' notice to a female of their species, as was their duty, and Maidens with thoughts of whisking Humans for a night of fun (male or female) waited patiently; they truly had the time, after all. But towering over them all were two female Quarians in armored exoskeletons, Migrant Fleet Marine Tech Warriors who stood taller thanks to their DuraFrame ExoSkeleton Suits, the females in question with armored visors and silvery eyes that watched everything at once, bodies ready for action. Both hosted a pair of retractable claws for personal defense if any thought to harm a member of the Normandy, Rahe and Jora'Tarrem nar Sofis vas Varis vigilant. Ancestors would smile at the carnage they could wrought if some tuho thought to do something stupid. When one obnoxious reporter decided to test one of the twins, Rahe just popped out her retractable Wolverine claws, and was highly amused to see damn near every Human in sight jump up and backwards at the sight.
The Lady of the Chambers wasn't about to let harm come to the galaxy's best Gethkillers, after all.
Sailors disembarked from the Normandy to the sound of cheers and applause, pic-taking and questions shouted, and many were stumped at the sight. None of them had expected a hero's welcome, especially on the multi-racial station known as the Citadel. The sight of so many Humans was an endearing one, but the recognition that the Sons and Daughters of Terra weren't the only ones present was a surprise as well. The crewmembers were looking forward to a well-deserved Liberty, and it was being kicked off by what appeared to be a crowd of adoring fans and well-wishers.
The cheers went up a couple dozen decibels when the sight of a redheaded women in Alliance Blues came down the ramp, flanked by a petite yet muscular brunette Corpsman and a woman with a Stetson on her head and Tridend colonial markings tattooed upon her face.
Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) felt herself almost stumble at the sight and the noise as she came down the ramp, shocked at the sight of so many people crowding the dock as the roar of their cheers washed over as TEAM LION and dozens of members of the SSV Normandy disembarked the craft for an unprecedented one-hundred and sixty-eight Liberty Pass; she had given her ship a full week off. After the grueling events that began on the Fourth of July, when Mister Arnold Donald of the Earth Carnival Cruise Corporation had informed Jannie that the ACV Horizon had gone missing, to the conclusion of Feros, her command had given their all in the name of mission, duty, and species. While she might have been the only N-Level on board, Shepard firmly believed that she had the most elite crew in the entirety of the Systems Alliance Military, those few, proud, dedicated few whose actions were becoming known galaxy-wide. Seeing the crowd of people cheering for them as they disembarked? It touched her deeply. It reminded her of the days after Elysium, of the three-month USO Tour that she was more-or-less ordered to do for the Systems Alliance, the military touting out their newest hero for propaganda and good press. But this wasn't the Systems Alliances' doing; this was the people, the same folks that she fought for. To see so many?
While it didn't make the struggle and the losses any easier, it did help.
"That's a sight to see." Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams said as several people disembarked the Normandy, the Lone Wolf looking at the crowd as she held the hand of Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden, the sole survivor of an entire Colonial Army Battalion caring for the sole survivor of an entire colony. Doctor Liara T'soni stood by Ash as Jannie looked to them, seeing how things had changed; how they had changed. The not-so-friendly-with-aliens Soldier standing so close to a meek-and-timid Protheantologist, the both of them had grown in such a short period of time, both growing personally and grown together. Now Ash was sweet on an Asari Maiden, and Liara was a little more exuberant, a little more assured. Newt, that little girl that they had pulled from the very jaws of Death that had consumed so many, was never more than arms' length away from Ashley, a maternal bond forming between Soldier and child. If Newt wasn't with Ash, she was with Liara, and the Doctor seemed charmed at the thought of having such trust in a little Human girl. The both of them were growing committed to one another, which was a wonderful thing to see in such tumulus times, Jannie admitted to herself. But the way they doted upon little Rebecca Jorden? That touched her even deeper. It reminded her of when she was a teenager, with Scottie in tow yet Sara happily skipping alongside her Auntie, all smiles as they explored the Cit.
Jannie smiled at the sight as the three of them walked down the ramp, the little girl holding hands with both Soldier and Doctor, the nightmare of Hadley's Hope disappearing at the excitement of her first visit to the famed Citadel. That reminded the redhead of the request she had sent to Poppa Bear earlier.
Shepard stood as she watched her team go ashore, smiling at the sight of her crew relaxing, that terrible burden seemingly disappearing as they stepped off the Normandy and onto the Cit. No doubt there would be bars visited, glasses drained of alcohol, and temporary company visited in rather exotic locales. It was the life of a Sailor, normality removed and replaced with long tours of duty where ones' life was always at jeopardy. All the things that civilians did everyday and took for granted where crammed in a few short hours or a couple of days for those who served, making up for lost time by increasing the intensity of such acts. It left the impression that Sailors on shore were a rowdy bunch, barely-mannered grunts who seemed to have rash of poor decision-making skills. No, Jannie knew the truth of it, what those civilians didn't understand. Tomorrow wasn't a guarantee, the future a dark and foreboding thing. Sailors weren't making up for lost time.
This might be their last chance, and they were going to fully use it.
Everyone that was going to disembark had done so before the N7 took her leave, fully believing that as a Commissioned Officer and a Captain, her men came first in all things. She would be the last to leave the vessel, if only she could watch them and wish them well in their endeavors. Sara stayed by her side, of course, the Navy Corpsman still hurting on the inside from what happened on Feros. Jannie had said it a dozen times to the young woman how it wasn't her fault at all, but Ryder still felt responsible for what happened to the colonists and Marines in Hadley's Hope. That fucking Thorian… Jannie wished it were alive only so she could watch it burn to death again. A pity she wasn't there to watch ExoGeni burn.
"I see Shayla and Alixa." Sara said, seeing an Asari and a Turian in their respective Presidium General Medical Work Uniforms; a one-piece blue-and-white work suit for Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis, and ERCS Light Barber-Surgeon Armor for Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis. Jannie had forwarded a message to the Skybulance-37 crew of Sara's impeding arrival, as well as Professor Irissa T'vara several hours before their arrival as well as their projected itinerary. Sadly, Irissa was currently off-station until Late Light, promising the Corpsman a nice, quiet evening with dinner and other couple-like activities. But Shayla and Alixa had come for their friend, Jannie having given them a barebones idea on what had happened and what Sara was suffering. Shepard knew that Sara could (and would) come to her, but the redhead wanted her friend to see that were others that believed in her, who would say the same things that Jannie was saying, but having more would certainly help. The Council Agent didn't doubt that there would be more than a few people the would help Sara; the Lady of the Chamber Eloa'Varis, Shayla, Alixa, Irissa, probably even those monstrous Quarian twins out in the crowd that look like they could break a Krogan in half. "Go. See your friends, kiddo. I know you need it."
"Thank you, Auntie." Sara replied, her normally effervescent voice dull, her blue eyes still tinted with grief. That fucking plant… God she wish she could burn it again for what it did to her friends, to her Sara. The young woman gave her a powerful hug, Jannie wrapping her arms around Sara fiercely, letting her know that her Auntie would always be there no matter what. Jannie watched as Sara disembarked the Normandy, blinking away a tear as the Corpsman went to Shayla and Alixa, embracing the both of them. The N7 knew what would happen; Sara would tell them everything, to get that grief out of her soul. To think that Jannie hadn't really liked most non-Humans, but it had been Sara who had eventually changed her mind, making friends amongst them.
What does this say about Humanity, I wonder, as the Captain looked upon the sight of an Asari, a Turian, and a Human leaving together as if it were completely natural. What can we be truly capable of if we all possessed your wonderful sense of courage, Sara?
Jannie smiled as she turned to look at Federal Marshal Samantha Collins, still standing on the deck, nowhere else to really go, no one else to turn to.
"C'mon, Marse." The Lion told the Butcher, Sam's Turian-marked face turning towards her blandly. "Poppa Bear's got some stuff for us to help us relax, and no doubt he'll talk your ear off about the good old days. Be prepared for a few hours of war stories, jokes, and his sailing ship model collection. It's always worth it."
"That… sounds good, actually." The Marshal replied, her tone so… dead. Jannie wanted to help, but Sam had buried too much, been hurt too much. She didn't know what to do save bring her in a little closer and hopefully get her mind off the pain and losses for a few hours or so. It wasn't like herself or Sara, where they had a myriad amount of family members and former team members to fall back upon during those hard days. Sam had no one else. No one else but them.
Shepard wouldn't fail her; she had a promise to keep to her deceased mentor, after all.
Lead Chair, Skybulance-37, In-Flight, Middle Presidium Ring, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 15, 2183
Senior Emergency Care Technician Shayla Talis sat in the lead chair of Skybulance-37, with her back to the direction of travel while sitting closest to the portside deployment door, her right shoulder facing the left side of the aerocraft as she looked upon her full crew now, all six members that she knew and trusted with both of her hearts. Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis sat to her left, occupying the far seat by the starboard side deployment door, Emergency Rescue Technician Javis Latarius sitting in between them, the male Turian Flamefighter and former Hierarchy Damage Control Specialist tapping a talon on his knee to the beat of the Hierarchy martial music playing over the Skybulances' speaker system. Across from Shayla was Trauma Care Specialist Meeska Kevla, the Salarian male composing something on his Haptic keyboard for his OmniTool; probably writing out his FanFic about a brutal space war involving six different species and millions of lives, fighting against mutants, some robotic zombie army, and some monstrous green-skinned barbarians that shot everything in sight. Next to him was Emergency Care Technician Asha T'mara, the Asari Maiden enthusiastically chatting up with the other sapient next to her.
Sara Elaine Ryder was sitting in her traditional seat, what the Human called 'the hellhole'.
Seeing the young Human Maiden in her seat, a position never filled since she had joined her Systems Alliance Navy only two short years ago, had Shayla's hearts swell with pride, the former Presidium General Hospital Emergency Medical Technician dressed in her Systems Alliance Battle Duty Uniform instead of a Paramedic's uniform. It was hard not to see the haunted look in the Human female's blue eyes, the things that she must have seen since becoming a part of the crew of the SSV Normandy. Humanity was fighting a war with a species that the Council wanted nothing to do with; the Geth. The facts of it all disturbed the Asarikin greatly, in a fashion that had the Citadel-born Asari very disquieted. When the Geth took over the Quarians' Homeworld of Rannoch and all of her colonies, the Council of Law and Chamber of Governance had elected to do absolutely nothing about it, leaving a huge potential threat while losing their holdings in the Terminus Sectors. For three centuries, absolutely nothing had been done about the issue as far as the public was aware, Citadel leadership content to leave the Geth be, and assuming that the Geth would return the favor.
How wrong they were, how so very wrong.
Over a hundred thousand dead on the colonial world of Eden Prime, Shayla thought to herself, having subscribed to the Alliance News Network (ANN) and Alliance Forces Network (AFN) when little Sara Ryder had enlisted, the Senior Emergency Care Technician keeping abreast with Earth Alliance Space as a means to keep up with her friend with more than just EN-Mails and Human Chirps. What the Human live reporters, talk hosts, speculators and commentators said of June Sixth (what they called 'the Day of Infamy') was a great deal more tragic and in greater depth than what the Citadel News Network (CNN) and ARTARVA was announcing. Yes, Humans could be passionate and dramatic in their news, and disgustingly so, but in this the Asari Matron understood; one of their worlds had been viciously attacked and brutalized. Amongst the galactic news channels, the attack on Constant, Eden Prime did not merit the headline, sometimes appearing halfway through an update segment or halfway down a media front page for the other species-ran media moguls. For Humanity's news, it was the leading story until what they called 'the Battle of LaGrange Point Two' where a Human Fleet had triumphed over an extremely large Geth Fleet, crippling one of their own fleets but utterly annihilating the Geth over the skies of Feros. Hierarchy Fleet News broadcasters had been practically giddy reporting the statistics of that battle, practically giving a shot-by-shot account of a brutal space battle in which, by all accounts, Humanity should have lost completely and utterly. The fact that a Human Fleet (in which Alliance Navy Fleets were smaller and lighter than the Fleets of the Republic, the Union, and the Hierarchy) had destroyed one-hundred and forty vessels, two of them Dreadnoughts at near-size of the Destiny Ascension? It was crest-boggling! And Sara had been a part of it!
CNN broadcasters were all agreeing that the so-called 'Human Problem' that the Council and Chamber had elected to call it was in fact being solved by Humanity alone, deeming the Council correct in their wisdom. But Shayla looked at the statistics that Humanity was reporting; the lives lost, the vessels lost, the price of the war they were fighting single-handedly against a synthetic species they had never interacted with before until June Sixth when the Geth assaulted Eden Prime, and her hearts shivered.
It was not a mere 'Human Problem', Council edict be damned. What would the Council and Chamber say if the Geth jumped right into the Widow System? Was the Citadel even prepared for such a threat?
Shayla watched as Asha and Sara chattered, as if no time had passed since the former Paramedic sat in her seat, two years evaporated in an instant as everyone had their chance to speak (and tease) their little Human companion. It was hearts-warming to see, and Talis knew little Sara needed it. Captain Jane Shepard had clued the Senior Emergency Care Technician of some of the things they had faced, from a Cruise Liner in which everyone had been killed (and yet TEAM LION had to kill something like four thousand of the opposition, the details understandably left vague), the Battle of LaGrange Point Two and the aftermath that the Navy Corpsman was 'elbows-deep in' (whatever that meant), and then Feros where Humanity lost practically everyone in a colony due to the Geth and another unnamed enemy. Captain Shepard was practically the bond-sister of Sara (though Humanity could not do such things, they saw each other in the same manner), and the Human Council Agent clued Shayla in that due to what happened at a 'Hadley's Hope', Sara and her small team had been very privy to an enemy action that a Human Special Forces Commando reported as being extremely horrific and disgusting, barely making it out alive. Their little Paramedic had not talked about it yet, obviously not ready to. But when she was, Shayla would be there to listen and support her.
The poor Maiden had suffered so much in her short, young life. Likely, she would suffer more.
The Skybulance went to a call, Talis taking it as the vessel was redirected to the Regency District of the Upper Presidium Ring where one of the intern staff members of the Asari Embassy had evidently decided to not pay attention where she was going and had gotten her hand slammed in between a set of closing doors. Flight Lieutenant Kaius Contenius got Skybulance-37 there in near record-breaking time (in which he held the record anyhow) to find the Maiden in question in the Embassy cradling a broken hand. The intern got her hand secured and stabilized before being escorted to the Skybulance to be flown to Presidium General. Shayla noted how… quiet Sara was the whole time, doing a perfect job as always, but it was as if that special something that had the young Maiden full of zest and zeal was gone, replaced with something… a little more empty. After the call, it was their Mid-day Meal in which Contenius landed the Asari-designed Shu'pris-'75 Cargo Transportation Vessel (Medical Class) upon the PresGen tarmac. Javis, Asha, Meeska, Kaius, and Alixa all went to the hospitals' galleria for their meal, but Shayla saw that Sara was just standing by the Skybulance, seemingly staring at nothing.
"Sara?" The Senior Emergency Care Technician approached her friend, placing a gentle hand upon the Human Maiden's shoulder. Ryder jumped, obviously startled from her reverie, looking at Talis as if she were about to be bit by a shark before coming to her senses. The Matron knew what she was seeing, and it weighed heavily upon her hearts. The stress and the trauma of what she had been facing were weighing in on her, having faced so much in so little time, having to deal with something obviously horrific at such a young age for a Human. "Sara, I am here for you." The Asarikin smiled as she brought the Human close, embracing her as Sara's arms slowly went around the Matron's waist as she pressed her face into Talis' shoulder and began to sob, no words said but everything pouring out of her, the emotions and grief saying everything Shayla needed to know. She remembered well when Sara lost her mother, how she wept at the loss.
These were the same bitter tears.
Alec, you need to be here for your daughter, the Asari thought, the thought not pleasing her at all. Alec Ryder and herself had never truly gotten along, Sara's sire being rather xenophobic and unwilling to bite his tongue or his pride for the sakes' of his daughter. Having grown up on the Cit her entire life, Sara Ryder had a life that was immersed in the many cultures of the Citadel, much like Shayla's had, born on the Citadel herself. Yet Sara's sire, a First Contact War Veteran, and never truly warmed up or trusted a non-Human. There had been… incidences in the past that had hurt Sara due to her sire, though the daughter in her had forgiven him of such transgressions. Talis had no compunctions. At the least Scott Ryder was so much more like his sister. Shayla held her friend, the young Maiden she would have been proud to have called daughter as Sara wept into her shoulder, letting the stress and the grief run its course until the tears had run out.
"I'm… sorry." Sara pulled away a little to wipe at the tears in her eyes, looking ashamed.
"Do not be, my little Sara." Shayla smiled as she touched her forehead to the Humans' in a similar fashion that Turians did with friends and those they trusted. "This is what you need, and there are those who are willing to provide when you need it most."
"It's just… when we were taking care of that Maiden…" Sara began, looking a something at the distance behind the Emergency Care Technician, but the Matron recognized that Sara was not looking at anything outward but inward, "I just felt… bland, like going through the motions. Such things use to excite me, to be there when someone needed me. Now it feels like rote." Ah, that was part of the shame. Sara was now more attuned towards wounds of war, and something so benign such as a broken hand did not have the thrill that she once experienced as a Emergency Medical Technician.
"That is because you are a Human adult now, tested and proven, Sara." The Asari replied, looking into Sara's blue eyes. "Before? You learned at my side, worked at Alixa's side, relied on all of us for the times you were not so sure, enjoyed the camaraderie that we shared. It was what you knew, and it was enough. Now? You are no longer that Human child eager to prove herself. You have worked on your own, people relying on you. You have grown, dear Sara; you have accomplished what you wanted. Perhaps in a few years time you will seek activities such as this again for its stability, but for now? Your singular heart does not belong in a Skybulance, but on a Frigate, working with a team that calls you 'Doc'." That had Ryder nodding slowly, sniffling a little. "Sara, I am proud of you. You have become a Navy Corpsman, what you wanted to be. You have earned yourself a place amongst an elite team, working along the best that see you as worthy of belonging. Yes, the path was hard and still fraught with its dangers, but in your heart you know where you belong."
"I know." Sara looked to her and this time it was the Maiden that pressed her forehead to Shayla's, holding it there for a long moment. "I just really hate losing people, and I've lost so many."
"How many more would have been lost without you? How many if you were not to continue?" That had the former Paramedic nodding in understanding, a slow smile coming to her rose-colored lips.
"I have a little sidekick now, actually. A trainee." Sara explained when Shayla shook her head at the word sidekick. Humans and their euphemisms! "Monica Negulesco. She was actually down on Feros with us, her first mission. She… she saved lives, too. Lives that I wouldn't have been able to save because there were two places to be and one of them…" Ryder's eyes snapped shut as she practically swayed on her feet. Talis knew a traumatic episode when she saw one. "Thank God she didn't have to face that. Would have lost her if our places had been reversed, I think."
"Then why do you wish to compound what you faced with guilt, Sara? Whatever it was, I know it was not your fault, not anything that you did wrong."
"I worked so hard on saving those people, Shayla!" Tears were threatening her eyes again, the tide of grief coming strong. "I spent hours fixing those Marines so they had a chance! I went into that compound to check on the colonists, to see to them! I faced horrors to pull them out and I failed!" The grief crashed to shore as the tears came, but there were no sobs. So this was what Captain Shepard had been eluding to. It made sense now; Sara did not brook failure, finding ways to succeed. But in this, there was no other recourse, and she felt like she did not accomplish her duties.
"Dear one, we all fail. Sometimes spectacularly." The Asarikin replied, wiping away one of the Human Maidens' tears with her thumb. "I seem so competent now because I have two centuries worth of experience. Alixa is the utter professional now, but you should have seen her first three years, jumping out of the Skybulance every time as if we were under attack. I bet if you ask your Monica Negulesco? She would say that the sun rises and sets with you, her seeing the kind of woman she wishes to be in you." Sara looked a little shocked at that. "The only true failure is not learning from failure. It is, after all, the greatest teacher and the best motivator."
"I just wish it didn't come with such a steep price." The Human sighed, though her eyes did not seem so haunted now.
"We all wish that, little one." Shayla replied honestly. "You are a full Maiden now, and while you knew that the galaxy can be a cruel and unforgiving place, it is now a very harsh reality that you visit everyday as oppose to generally know of from a distance. Yet in that same location, you can make a true difference as well. For only in the worst waves can one really know what one is truly capable of."
Luigi's Multi-Ethnic Restaurant, Shoreside District, Block 0840 (Mid-Ward), Zakera Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 15, 2183
Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) decided that the best way to treat her team was to take them all out to dinner. Some of them even brought plus ones.
Luigi's was a restaurant that was a symbol of Man's progress on the Citadel; a multi-cultural restaurant where one could order Earth-oriented food, Sur'kesh-oriented food, Thessian-oriented food, Palaven-oriented food, and the others as well, promoting on a tagline of '#Check This Out! #Check Us Out!', offering discounts if a patron ordered something not of their species (obviously, opposing chilary foods were not served to avoid lawsuits). If one worked in a diverse workplace or had friends of different species, Luigi's was one of the best places to go to, to have everyone fed without having to spit out their food and asking what the cook was thinking. Its decor was oriented towards an ancient theme known as Retro-50's Diner, where the chief colors were red and chrome, fiber optic line strands contained passing bubbles, and an honest-to-goodness jukebox existed in one corner playing classical music of ten different homeworlds. Jannie had been here on several occasions as a kid and loved the theme and the food. And it was really the best place to have a large dinner with six different species involved. She had called ahead with the reservations and had gotten an area staked out for a party numbering thirty with RSVP's from the various team members of TEAM LION, some coming with dates or friends. It was exactly what Jannie had hoped for.
"So what's the pot at now, Loot?" Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams directed towards 1st Lieutenant Kaidan Raphael Alenko, both dressed in civilian clothing and sitting across from one another. "Sara won the last round with her choice."
"Eight hundred Credits total for each team member, and I got Vasquez's guess as well as Doc's next guess." The Explosive Ordinance Disposal member replied, and the N7 pursed her lips as the random conversations of TEAM LION came, but she found herself focusing on the two Humans that sat to her left and right as she manned the head of the tables that were pushed together vertically. "Jean picked Turian Cop, and Sara picked Asari Sister of the Order of Justice."
"What are you two talking about?" Shepard asked, curious.
"Oh! We've got a team pool for the next member of TEAM LION." Ash replied, making Shepard boggle for a moment. "Started when Sara Chirped us about Sam before we knew who it was, and the XO won that one. Sara got Round Two with Human Marine. Everyone puts up fifty Credits and selects their idea of our next knuckle-dragger." That had the Lieutenant snort. "Species and profession have to match, and if you don't get the spread, you only get half for only being half-right and the rest gets added to the next round. Doc picked Human Marine and we got Jeanette Vasquez. Now we're on Round Three."
"You're betting on the next lifeform I'm putting on my ship?" Jannie asked pointedly, making Kaidan cough uncomfortably.
"Well, duh, yeah!" Williams replied with a grin on her face. "Half the Ops Alley, the entire Engineering Team, and about a quarter of the Gunners' are in on it, too. I think Sara won like twenty-four hundred Credits. I'm still waiting for mine to pop up. It'd be hysterical."
"Do I even want to know?" The N7 asked, a little amused. If the Navy didn't have drinking and betting pools, Sailors would likely do something even more stupid. Honestly, she wouldn't mid getting in just for fun but she knew she couldn't; she was, after all, the final authority for said inclusion.
"BLASTO. A Hanar SPECTRE." Several people at the tables overheard Ash's comment and were chuckling.
"You know there are Hanar SPECTREs, right?" Detective Garrus Vakarian said from further down the table, sitting next to his 'date', Barber-Surgeon Alixa Trevalis of Skybulance-37. "I don't think any are Level Threes, but I've met a Hanar Level One Council Agent. I believe he was a hacktivist."
"A gun in every tentacle, a lover at every port." Private First Class Holland 'Lapdance' Hoss hooted from even further down the table, calling out the tagline for the Blasto! movie.
"Don't joke about that, I had to pull an Elcor dildo out of a Hanar's bum." Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder replied, sitting next to Professor Irissa T'vara, the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies for the University of Serrice having arrived an hour before.
"Wai… what?" Corporal Jeanette Vasquez boggled from across the Navy Corpsman. "Like, seriously?"
"We're not hearing that story again over the dinner table." Vakarian replied, Trevalis chuckling next to him. Jannie remembered that Alixa had actually been there for that 'procedure'. "Or the one about the Krogan who ate a full three-course Turian formal affair on a bet. That was just Spirits-be-damned disgusting."
"Do I want to know?" Seaman Monica Negulesco asked, sitting beside Vasquez, the Hospital Corpsman perking up.
"Probably puked out his own gizzard to scrape away the leftovers before shoving it back in." Urdnot Wrex commented, sipping Hanar tea of all things.
"Sadly, he isn't exaggerating." Sara replied, her face sour. "First time I saw that, I thought I was going to do the same. Don't even begin to ask me where in evolution thought it was a good idea to be able to turn your gut inside out while dangling from out of your mouth."
"Ewww!" Ash croaked. "Wayyy too much info, Doc. I'm looking forwards to my Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo, thank you very much!" That had just about everyone at the table laughing as Jannie smiled. They needed this, all of them. She looked over to see that Marshal Sam Collins was actually talking a little to Corporal Jeanette Vasquez, though the Federal Marshal and Level Two Council Agent had been mostly quiet. Jannie had brought her along to go visit Poppa Bear, and right on cue Read Admiral (Lower Half) David Anderson had swept up the Butcher figuratively and started shooting the shit with her, telling stories and lies as Sailors were wont to do, usually his own escapades that ended hilariously. They both had spent several hours in the Special Tactics And Reconnaissance Section (STARS) Office, getting to know the men and women who worked under Poppa Bear, Global Bureau of Investigation Agents and Office of Naval Intelligence Officers along with Yeomen and Dataware Specialists that manned Humanity's SPECTRE Office. Jannie wanted to spend time with those men and women so that she would know who they were as well as for them to see whom they were serving as well. She had her own office (a room and a desk with a terminal, undecorated since she was off on missions) and it was there that she finally got Sam a little out of her funk by having the Marshal teach her something things about the Office of Special Tactics and some other activities and avenues that a SPECTRE would use in such times. But there was a call that Shepard had made that had Collins reel a little bit but in a good fashion, getting the Marshals' help to both include the woman and to give her mind something positive to do.
Jannie looked to where Ash sat with Doctor Liara T'soni, the two of them slightly separated by the inclusion of a young Human child in between them, Newt gossiping and chattering away with anyone and everyone. Somehow the kid had gotten Urdnot Wrex to open up and give her a piggyback ride on top of his hump. That had been a sight. Seeing Ash dote on the little girl really was endearing, and Shepard knew that Williams was doing her best to spend as much time as possible with Newt as she could for the simple fact that there was no way that Jannie would let a minor be included on a warship, much less with the mission that the Normandy was on.
Which was why Jannie (and Sam) got into contact with one Abigail Rosalyn Jacobson.
Dinner was served, and Shepard watched on as she saw her crew dig in, the horrors of the past week slowly slipping away as banter and cat-calling ensued while people at their dinners. A year ago, she never would have guessed she would have been the host to a multi-species dinner, that she would actually enjoy the event. But now? Now she was glad. She remembered how she felt when Council Agent Nihlus Kryik first told her that she had been selected as a SPECTRE Candidate, how it proved how far her species had come along in such a short period of time. But in reality… it was her that had come along, growing into the kind of person that the galaxy needed in such times. Yes, Jannie represented what Humanity could do, but her strength didn't just come from herself. It was with those that sat in front of her, her diverse and eclectic crew that had slogged through the worst that the galaxy had thrown at them, facing such threats together. Being an N helped, but the redhead knew that strength came from the willingness to push forward to prove oneself for more than just personal reasons and ambitions; the Villa had certainly taught her that, especially the N1 Course. She had learned the difference of what a species could do and what a species could be capable of.
Nihlus, I wish you could be here to see what you helped created, Jannie thought to herself as she lifted her glass of beer, poured a small amount onto the restaurant floor in libations, and drank to his memory.
Illola Water Gardens, Meridian Place, Presidium Commons, Upper Ring, Presidium, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 15, 2183
Commander Mark Gerald Vanderloo walked down the white boulevard that was Meridian Place, passing by the shops and kiosks of the affluent marketplace as he headed down a series of stairs and towards a balcony that was a part of a bridge to where he could see a redheaded Human female in a Systems Alliance uniform standing at the railing, overlooking the Asari-created Illola Water Gardens, where one could find a small beach that wasn't a beach and the Elcor Unity Statue in the middle commemorating when the Thessians and Dekunnans formally signed treaties where the Elcor Dekunnan Confederacy became a client-state of the Asari Thessian Republic. He knew that he would find her here, her favorite spot. In another life, he suspected that she might have had a green thumb.
"Hey, Jane."
"Hey, Mark." Captain Jane Shepard turned to look at him for a moment, having leaned her elbows on the railing of the bridge to peer into the Water Garden, Mark leaning against it sideways to look at his Commanding Officer while spying what appeared to be an Asari family walking the gravel-lined paths of the Gardens. He knew why she loved this place; seeing families. It reminded Jane of the times when she took Sara and Scott Ryder when they were kids. It also made her think of what it would have been like if her family had been whole, her father alive and her mother not nearly so career-oriented. "Knew I'd be here, didn't you?"
"You talked about this place on more than a few occasion, and mentioned that it was a place that you'd visit whenever you wanted some peace and quiet to reflect." Not that Meridian Place was quiet at all; store-tenders and hawkers trying to interest wealthy customers and entertain visitors while lightbanner advertisements and streamers decorated the air in the corridors or above the shops and stores. No, the peace and quiet didn't come from the outside but the inside. "After what we've face, it was the first place I thought that you'd be at this time of night." Night was subjective on the Citadel; being the center of the known universe, it never did sleep. The Presidium's luminosity never changed despite the cycle of day, an eternal day in the eternal night of space. It was approximately 2200 hours Zulu, and everyone's schedules were a little out of whack thanks to the previous week and at least three different time difference between Feros, the Arc, and the Cit. Liberty was set, but many of the crew members of the Normandy were using their own quarters for room-and-board for the evening so they wouldn't be straight out robbed by the many different hotels available on the Cit. A few were likely out drinking and doing their best to find some night-time companionship, or in Sara's case, having a 'sleepover'. "What's bothering you? Okay, correction, I can guess at a few things." Shepard merely smiled wanly at him. "Sara the big one?"
"Yeah." The redhead admitted, her face going dark. "Mark… I fully thought she was going to die in my arms. I know it was the right call to make, and I know that Sara would even agree with me… but I still had to make that call." Jane's eyes closed as she obviously relived that moment in which she had ordered him to have no less than five vessel to bombard the area they were in with orbital strikes, kinetically destroying the cavern buried beneath the surface. Mark knew that feeling well; he'd thought he might be killing Jane, Sara, and a portion of TEAM LION, but he knew that Shepard wouldn't have made that call unless there was no other option. Gigantic man-eating plant the size of a Destroyer certainly qualified the use of Naval fire.
"Jane… we got lucky, so enjoy it." Vanderloo replied, placing a hand on her shoulder, getting her to look at him. "We got our crew out of there with one loss against how many Geth and whatever else that thing threw at you. We managed to pull out survivors. And you buried that thing that was at the heart of it all in a lake of lava. I know it isn't a comfort, but we managed. It could have been so much worse, after all."
"I know, Mark." Jane replied with a whisper, her green eyes going back to the Garden. "God, if I had to bury her… I don't know if I could do this. It's one thing to say that I can make the kind of calls that most would never be able to make, the kind of things they expect out of us N's. But putting Sara in the line of fire kills me at the same time that I know that I need her, that my team needs her. Did… did you ever felt that way? Feel that way now?" Jane had never asked that question before, not when they were married.
"When we were married? Every single time for the first couple years." Mark admitted, thinking back to those days when Shepard was in a hard-tempo with an NCT Unit geared towards fast-response as oppose to vessel assaults, urban ops, or hostage rescue. She had a four month ship-out, four months of training/technique reinforcement, and four months of garrison-like duties that generally involved the lighter version of the other eight months. Their first year of marriage, Mark had seen Jane all of two months concurrently. The second year it was about two and a half. By the third year, Mark had hardly felt he was married at all for the little he ever got to see of his wife, not to mention that his own rotations generally meant that they were lucky if they got to see each other at all. Both hadn't completed their initial eight years of service requirement for Commissioned Officers, and it was generally 'suggested' that N's do at least ten, though most normally were already in for four to six years before being recommended for Villa Militar.
Jane had been an Ensign about to get her j.g., hot off of her success on Elysium when he proposed to her days before she got her orders to go to the ICT School in Rio de Janeiro in Brazil. Hell, he spent more consecutive time with Jane on the Normandy than he had during any portion of their marriage, having seen her day in and day out for the past month save a couple. There had never been a month when they were together when they were married. Between Elysium, Shepard being an N, and him being a Commissioned Officer in the Navy during the Skyllian Blitz, there was little time for a marriage, and the little they got seemed interrupted. Despite it all, they ended up a part of that high statistic of military divorces due to stretches of absences and lonely nights.
"Y'know, I always said I'd never do what the Admiral did to me." Vanderloo winced at the reference to Rear Admiral Hannah Singer and the acts that drove mother and daughter apart. "But I did it with you. Elysium, the Teams, the Blitz… it just seemed that I was always needed, and I hated the thought of saying no, of saying 'I have a husband I haven't seen in almost a year' with the Blitz running hot. It just… seemed more important at the time."
"Hey." Mark moved in and wrapped his arms around his ex-wife, holding her close to give her the comfort she needed, being there for her when she needed it. Propaganda and vids all loved to espouse on the amazingness of N's and warriors, especially with the badly-made ones led by some actress-portrayed heroine that was a bare veil of Shepard without having to pay for the rights in using her name, image, or whatever else. But N's were just like anyone else; they were Human. They had feelings, grief, guilt, hopes, and dreams. Some had families to come home to. Some had those families torn apart by their service and duties for whatever myriad of reasons. Jane rested her head against his chest as he held her, and he heard her take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and her felt her relax, to let the worries wash away for a moment and been that girl he remembered; the intelligent wallflower that was practically dying to shine, for a peer to take notice of her. Elysium had changed her, had made Jane do her best to be a hero for their people following a terrible event and at the precepts of a war. She tried being like her father, Lieutenant Commander John Shepard, the Hero of Shanxi.
Mark wished she could go back to being that Jane of old.
Domicile 2209, Celice Park Tower, Ringside District, Block 0220 (Skyward), Kithoi Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 15, 2183
Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder walked alongside Professor Irissa T'vara as they entered into the arcade of Celice Park Tower where her domicile resided on the twenty-second floor, shyly having her arm in Irissa's as they walked together into the complex's breezeway bazaar where a few small restaurants and residential-oriented businesses existed to cater to the towers' residents as well as those who might be passing by. They had just finished the crew dinner at Luigi's, followed by a nice little outing involving going through a more art-oriented area in the Zakera Wards, passing by galleries where one could find cultural art on display, everything from trinkets with a taste of a homeworld to statues. The Rannochian-born Asari had showed Sara a series of oil-based paintings that had caught her fancy done by an Asarikin painter by the name of Celiai Culanis, one that specialized in Thessia nature paintings, plying her trade by taking her stock with her and hiking out to vistas before finding one that pleased her and setting up her equipment to memorialize whatever she had found in oil and canvas. Sara knew what Thessia looked like thanks to the myriad of stills and pics, as well as vids and shows that would display views of Armali or Serrice, generally panning around the Temple of Athame to give a skyline of the city of Serrice that surrounded it, the structure of the Goddess galaxy-famous. But seeing nature paintings had been different from most, where most Asari displayed the metropolitan feel of Serrice, Armali, and Attena. Sara immediately saw what had appealed to Irissa, a particular series of paintings that even had the Navy Corpsman viewing it with wonder.
"Is that… Jynessa T'mala?" Sara asked, looking at the subject of a nude Asari huntress in the wild, seemingly stalking prey in the fields, clothed in mud and vegetation with a Light-Lance in hand. The Asari in the painting was young, nearly Maidency age when an Asarikin when from Youngling to Maiden at the age of sixty-five. She completely lacked any centurymarks… and clothes, though that itself wasn't unusual for an Asari on Thessia or for certain activities where such things were proper for the Asarikin. There were sports and activities where being nude was completely acceptable upon Thessia and her sister colonies, though the Asari forwent that tradition in more diverse holdings, understanding that the rest of the galaxy did not view trapezing about naked as proper. Yet this young Huntress was covered in mud and camouflaged with plant matter to blend her in with the surroundings, her determined face looking at something off-painting with concentration as she held her Light-Lance in a ready grip, ready to let fly to hunt and kill her prey, the weighted end of the hunting weapon containing a nugget of Eezo so an Asari could use her Biotics to pull the weapon back long before the advent of the Biotic Amplifier. The posture of the Asari, the way she staked through the grass and trees, the attention to detail and the way the oil displayed the mud covering of her body made it almost feel as if Sara had walked onto the scene herself.
"It is." The Professor replied, smiling. "Celiai did perhaps two dozen paintings of Jynessa in her youth during one of her hunts. They were quite popular even before the Sunset Wars." Ryder knew that Jynessa T'mala was pretty much the Asari version of her Auntie, perhaps even more so. The daughter of one of the greatest commandos to have ever lived, Jynessa had fought against the Sisterhood of the Eclipse during a coup attempt upon the Serrice Council, the group of mercenary war trainers wishing to implement laws and policies that would relax certain restrictions, such as sapient trafficking of certain degrees as well as the relaxation of certain contraband laws, mainly narcotics. Jynessa T'mala had been a member of the Sisterhood, a lauded member of the company her aithntar created to help defend Thessia and the Republic, fighting her own sisters and mother to save the Republic her sire had defended a dozen times over from its enemies, both external and internal. Jynessa was a very popular figure amongst the Asari, and Maiden commandos and huntresses practically threw themselves at the opportunity to train or work along with the Maelstrom of Thessia. Sara had actually met her once years ago during a function, a five-hundred year old living legend that the Asari practically fawned upon, even near-millennium Matriarchs deferring to a Matron that many considered the greatest warrior alive. A master of the Light-Lance, the Songblade, and the shuwani blade, Jynessa's reputation as the expert of melee combat wasn't greatly exaggerated, as Sara understood it. The Asari didn't have many enemies; damn near all of them never survived her.
The evening wore on when Irissa and Sara went to return to the Professors' domicile, passing through the arcade, Sara noting a few Asari Maidens scowling at the sight of an Asari Matriarch arm-and-arm with a Human female in a way that didn't suggest that Sara was some sort of pet or connessa; the Asari idea of a pleasure object, like a courtesan or prostitute. Matriarchs were suppose to be with their own kind with a trail of Matrons and Maidens obeying her wishes, some pet Turian or another serving as an 'escort' while another, generally a Maiden, served as her object of sating. No, Irissa was none of these things, singular but with someone in a relationship like a Matron was suppose to do, breeding like a rabbit with others for 'genetic diversity'. Sara had never believed that illusion for a moment, knowing that an Asari was practically expected to have at least a family of five with a variety of aithntars to 'further diversify' Thessians amongst the galaxy. Sergeant Ashley Williams had mentioned something like this to her, calling it genetic theft; something Sara had realized back in the Presidium Academy of Education. Irissa treated her like an equal, not some near-millennial Matriarch surrounded by mere mortals to serve upon her every whim. The scorn emanating from the various Asari seeing Irissa and Sara walking together, arm-and-arm, had the Corpsman feeling smug.
They entered into the lobby as a couple (earning a few more scornful looks) and took to the turbolift that would bring them to the level that Irissa lived on. The privacy of the lift was a blessing-in-disguise as the Human female turned to face her lover, slipper her hands around the Asari's robed waist and giving her a passionate kiss while waiting for the conveyance to arrive at their destination. It had been just over ten days since she had seeing Irissa last, but those ten days had been filled with a lifetime of grief and woe. Sara wasn't one for public displays of affection, giving the Professor a chaste kiss when meeting her at the Thessian Republic Common Docks at the Bachjret Enders a few hours prior. Now that they had privacy, Sara was going to show just how much she missed the Matriarch in more ways than one. Irissa certainly wasn't fighting the act, either.
"How I missed you, dear one." Irissa smiled with the kiss was done, her yellow centurymark'ed face looking at Sara with a smile, obviously meaning what she said. "It is not easy knowing that you are out there in the black, engaging those who wish to hurt your kind, wondering and worrying."
"I know, I use to be the same way with my Dad." Ryder replied, resting her head against Irissa's shoulder. "I honestly don't know how Mom was able to do it for years. I wish I had asked her."
"I believe we all have our ways of enduring, dear Sara." The young woman looked up to the Protheantologist as Irissa caressed her cheek with a gentle thumb. "But for now, there is no need to endure. You are here with me, and that is what matters most." The lift doors opened to reveal a pair of Salarian males on the other side, Sara automatically stepping away from her paramour out of public politeness, a more Human response than what Asari normally did, though thankfully Irissa seemed to understand. The two males (by their skin patterning, they were likely clutch-brothers) entered the turbolift as it resumed its travel upward, Sara trying not to blush as he two Salarians stood their mutely, absolutely pretending that that hadn't walked into anything. The lift arrived at the twenty-second floor where both Human and Asari exited the conveyance and made their way to the Professor's domicile. There was something on the door of Domicile 2209 that had Sara slow her pace as she saw what appeared to be…
"Is that… a yellow ribbon on your door?" Sara asked breathlessly as she turned to look at Irissa, feeling her eyes go wide.
"Yes it is, dear one." The Protheantologist replied, smiling at her as Sara felt the rug pulled from beneath her feet figuratively. Does she know what that means?
"My… Mother use to keep one on our door whenever Dad was on mission." Sara said slowly, remembering that when she and Scottie got older, they would help with the tradition. "It was an American tradition that started with a year-long hostage crisis, though there are songs about tying a ribbon around the old oak tree. Not too many of those on the Cit. Did… did you look up what it meant?"
"I did, and it was confusing. Even for an archaeologist." That had Sara snort but smiling all the while. "As I understand it, when a soldier goes to war," the Asari Professor moved closer to slip her arms around Sara, "their mate would have or hang a yellow ribbon to declare their love to their warrior while praying for their safe return. I thought you would appreciate."
"I… I do." Sara had to blink away tears, feeling them threatening her blue eyes. "No one's ever done that for me before." It was an old Human tradition that had been revived with the Blitz. Sara and Scottie had done it for their Dad, and after Elysium they had done it for Jannie, too. It wasn't necessarily for a lover; it could mean a family member, too. Mom hadn't been able to do it when her twin children were in Boot Camp, being too sick to even stay at home. But if she had been able to, Sara knew there would have been two ribbons on the door. Seeing a yellow ribbon on Irissa's door, knowing that it was meant to represent her? An Asari following a Human tradition? To say that Ryder was touched was putting it mildly. "You… you're good to me, Irissa. I really and truly mean that." She wanted her Asari mate to know that, to know what Irissa meant to her. It times such as these, those feelings were something worth holding onto. Especially after what happened on Feros. "Let me show you.
"Just… not in the hallway."
Author's Note: This is a different vein of story from the past several ARCs; this focuses on the price of war, the human condition, and trauma. It won't be doom and gloom, but people finding resolve and comfort in others (platonic and otherwise). While a portion will be about Sara and Jannie, Sam and a few others will be focused on.
Just who the hell is Abigail Rosalyn Jacobson? Technically (very technically) she is a canon character. You'll be seeing her later.
I touched a little on Jane and Mark's null-and-void marriage. Military divorces are something like 500% more than their civilian counterparts (probably around the same percentage as cops and firefighters).
Jynessa T'mala is an OC from the Peacemaker Series that didn't get used in the story "The Fury Of Our Maker's Hand". The brief bio I did was what I used to explain why she would have joined Sam Collins and the STARS Team to fight the Agents of CHAOS after a double assassination of the Salarian Councilors (outgoing and incoming at the same time). In this universe, she is believed (by the Asari) to be the deadliest warrior alive in the galaxy, and she is rather venerated throughout the rest of the galaxy as someone not to casually fuck with. She even comes with her own superhero name! You will see her later.
Light-Lance - A unique weapon I created, it is a spear with a small nugget of Eezo in the pommel for Ancient Asari to 'pull' back game and enemies, much like Scorpion's rope dart from Mortal Kombat save with Biotics.
Songblade - From Dara's Asari Wikia, it is a disk-like weapon with quills surrounding it (like a frisbee ninja star, but used like Xena's hoops) that was thrown and 'steered' with Biotics at rather ridiculous ranges. Imagine if Captain America's shield had razor blades coming out of it!
Aithntar - Stolen from LogicalPremise's 'Of Sheep And Battle Chicken' Series, it is the 'father' name for an Asari. Considering they're 'monogendered', they wouldn't have a masculine name for the sire of a child, something that LogicalPremise and Meytal's 'The Spirit Of Redemption' highlight well (though Meytal uses an Asari word that equals 'not-mother').
The Yellow Ribbon - Actually… this is a Puritan thing that has come up many times throughout American History, going as far back as at least the American Civil War. I mention that it 'started' with a hostage crisis (the Iranian Hostage Crisis of 1979-81, which it did gain national recognition for the 444 day political siege between America and Iran, people hanging yellow ribbons to pray for their safe return), though there have been songs ( "Tie A Yellow Ribbon 'Round The Old Oak Tree") and movies ( "Around Her Neck She Wore A Yellow Ribbon" with John Wayne). There are folk songs dating back to the Confederacy in the American Civil War. But the 'major' usage of the Yellow Ribbon became prominent during the Persian Gulf War in 1991, when America sent a quarter of a million troops to liberate and protect Kuwait from Iraqi aggression. Today, you see it as cute magnets on people's cars displaying "Support Our Troops". I wonder how much money random companies made selling these without donating anything to the cause of soldiers, sailors, or their family members?
My mom had a yellow ribbon tied around the tree of our front lawn for me. I remembered how touched I was when I first saw it coming home for R+R for my first tour. My oldest daughter did it for me, too. I wanted to highlight that a little, as well as the way it made me felt. Yes, I cried.
Look up the history and see how the Yellow Ribbon has changed throughout the years, from a man putting a ribbon around a woman's hair to tell other men not to be Jodie, to a convicts' wife welcoming her paroled husband's return, the other old 'favors' that a woman would make for her tourney knight to give him luck (the ribbon would be tied around a locket of her hair, a personal memento). Now it seems to be a marker for campaigns (from breast cancer to killing zombies).
Copyright stuff
"Only Human" by Christina Perri. Her voice fits the haunting theme of this song perfectly.