"So it must have been important, right?"

"I would guarantee it, Pomii."

Once again, Zaal'Koris vas Rannoch (yes, he had finally given in and dropped the "vas Qwib-qwib" - Pomii was right to point out that his silly posturing was just that: silly) was aboard the Tonbay, but this time it was a more light-hearted affair. Well, perhaps "light-hearted" was incorrect, but it was certainly more relaxed. This time, he had joined Shala and her mate Geru with his own mate Pomii for their evening meal.

"But we still do not know what it is that she found," intoned Shala, "Tali insisted that we discuss her findings in-person. She did not trust the security of the transmission - even from the Normandy."

"She's a smart girl, Shala. Although, I am surprised considering how long she served on the ship." Geru had known Tali as long as Shala had, and was nearly as close to her as his mate was. He knew that she was dedicated, yes, but even her snub of the Normandy surprised him.

"Well," began Zaal, "she did tell us that it was - keelah - seventy-five zettabytes that she was able to extract and deliver."

Geru nearly choked on his nutrient paste, his dark blue suit shuddering with the sudden cough. "Ancestors! Seventy-five? What could they have possibly found that took up so much memory?"

"Well Geru, we have been away for three centuries. And if they were as meticulous with their records then as they were…well, before the Pulse, then I'm surprised that it was only that amount."

"Pomii, Tali told us that she and her team did have to make…certain…how had she put it?" She cocked her head in curiosity as Zaal tried to remember just what she had said, casually placing her hand over his. "Ah yes. Certain 'executive decisions' regarding what she and her team decided to discard."

His bondmate in the deep orange suit was taken aback. "You mean there was more?"

Shala laughed, still unbelieving herself what Tali had told her. "Yes. She said that if she hadn't brought her other friends - well, 'squadmates' - that she would still be there trying to sift through it all."

It was Geru's turn to be surprised, and slightly uneasy. "Shala, I was not aware that she had taken others. I presumed that it was Admiral Shepard that accompanied her." It would not have taken his soul's soul to pick up on his clear apprehension and concern that "outsiders" had been privy to so much that had been meant to stay secret.

"Geru, it is all right. Those that she took were the same friends that she had fought beside since her pilgrimage. You may actually remember them, since they stayed for a couple of days after Shepard and the Fleet defeated the Reaper here."

He nodded his head in understanding. "The turian and the asari, right?"

"Yes," Shala answered solemnly, "she did not choose her team idly."

Zaal piped up then. "I remember the turian - I believe his name was Garrus Vakarian, right? - he was an interesting fellow. He asked me when the last time was that the weapons on the Qwib-qwib had been calibrated. I told him that we had been at war; of course they were calibrated." He paused, taking a sip of his drink. "Then he just said something like 'Hmmm', then walked away."

There was an awkward yet humored silence for a moment as they wondered just why the hell he would have wanted to know that.

"Wasn't he with C-Sec a few years ago?", Pomii began, "I remember Sila mentioned an officer by that name when she was on pilgrimage. I think she called him a 'cold-blooded' bosh'tet, but he was at least fair. She'd been accused of shoplifting - big surprise, I know - by the shopkeeper, who was also turian I'd add, but this Garrus clearly had known that something was not right. It took him only a matter of hours to determine that it was another turian - who I think was the shopkeeper's friend - that had taken the merchandise."

Shala laughed a little. "Yes Pomii, Tali had said something similar after she came back from pilgrimage." Shala had left out - and would always do so - the rest of what Tali'Zorah had told her about her pilgrimage. Besides, it didn't matter now, considering what had become of she and Shepard since.

Keelah, bondmates. A satisfied smile touched the admiral's lips.

Zaal shrugged. "I don't remember that. Are you sure Sila said it was this turian?"

Pomii laughed at him in feigned indignation. "Zaal, dear. You're a very busy man, and we didn't want to worry you further with an incident that proved to be nothing. Besides," she sipped her own drink, "it wasn't really anything that we hadn't dealt with before."

"Hmmm. Perhaps, but I would have preferred to have been told about my own daughter's misadventures with Citadel law enforcement." Pomii only gave him a suble nod in acknowledgment. She would apologize to him properly later, when it was just them. "At any rate, from what Tali had told us, he is a good man. And," he stopped to sip his own turian brandy, "she considers him a friend. Coming from one of ours, that says quite a lot about him, I should think."

"Well, what about the asari? Liara T'Soni?"

"Her story is much the same as Vakarian's, though she was much quieter when she was here." Shala thought on this for a moment. "As a matter of fact, I don't recall seeing much of her while they were here. But, she was with them during Tali's pilgrimage, and she was here for the war with the Reapers. Aside from Shepard, Tali has known them the longest." Shala finished her own tube of nutrient paste. She allowed her mind to wonder briefly what food would taste like without it being stored in a sealed tube. "Which, quite frankly, is good enough for me." Admiral Raan's conclusion seemed to put the matter to bed, with no verbal responses made from the other three.

"Geru, if you don't mind my asking, how is the biological survey coming along?"

Zaal and Shala both were quietly pleased to hear Pomii's question organically take them off of this particular topic.

Finished with his tube of food, he placed its remnants on the small plate that they shared. He sat up straight then, clearly a man of pride.

"Well, at first it was pretty simple work. With the Geth here, we managed to make quick work of quite a bit of it."

"You mean they hadn't already completed such a survey?"

He smiled at Zaal's mate, his head tilt giving it away. "Well, I thought the same thing when we started. But, it turned out that they never ventured much on the planet itself, except for…maintenance purposes."

"Maintenance purposes?" Pomii actually sounded incredulous.

Geru chortled a laugh. "Yes, I know. It sounded ridiculous when I first heard of it. What was its name…? 'Celeste', I think it was." He interrupted his own train of thought as another struck him. He wouldn't pass up this question. "Is it just me, or did the Geth have a tendency to invoke somewhat…'human' names to call themselves?"

Zaal smiled in curious humor. "No, you're right, did." He took a small draught of his own brandy. Keelah, he couldn't wait until they were able to conjure their own Rannoch-ian liquor again. "And, as you might expect, I have a story for that."

"Oh, this should be good," came the teasing suggestion from his mate as she patted him on the thigh. Her eyeroll was very much evident.

After the light laughter died down, Zaal'Koris vas Rannoch ("nar Qwib-Qwib"? No one really knew anymore…or yet) presented his story.

"So, after Shepard and Tali left on the Normandy, we started to interact with the Geth more. And I noticed that they indeed were selecting names for themselves. Curiously, they were not quarian names."

"Why would they have chosen quarian names, dear? We had been at war with them."

"Oh shush, Pomii! Just let me continue." Geru and Shala both chuckled knowingly at their light-hearted exchange.

"So, as I was saying, when I noticed that the Geth were not adopting quarian names, I actually asked one called Lanna." He paused for a moment, the levity of the story suddenly drained from him as he recalled the last moments that "she" was alive. He cleared his throat uncomfortably as Pomii squeezed his hand. He had told her what had happened when the Pulse had hit. It was a wound that still pained him. Sheepishly, he sent her a quick and thankful glance.

"Right. So I asked Lanna about their names. I asked her specifically; I said 'Lanna, all of the Geth that I've talked to have had very human names. Can you explain why that is?' You know, for a moment, I was afraid that I would have offended it with the bluntness of my question." Another bit of brandy through his induction port. "But, no! She was…happy?…to explain. She said that because it was a human - Shepard, of course - that managed to bring us together in peace, that it only seemed fitting that they adopt human names. She said that they had reached 'consensus' regarding the matter."

Shala, who had remained quiet spoke up. "You know, I wonder if we would have ever gotten to that point."

"Which point?"

"When they could have taken names like ours."

"I imagine it would have been possible, given time. Even deep wounds heal with enough of it."

There was a moment when all of them found the table very interesting.

"Guess we'll never know now, will we?"

Pomii gently squeezed Zaal's thigh in reassurance.

Geru, once again, asked a probing question. "What do you mean by 'consensus'? I thought the whole point of the…what was it? 'Reaper code'? Was so that they could think independently, as individuals."

Pomii answered. "I had thought the same thing. But, given the situation, would you have abandoned the only way that your entire race had ever made decisions? And to do so so quickly?" She shook her head. "No, I should think not. Not when there was so much at stake."

That was effectively the end of the discussion, and they were able to get the conversation back on track to the matter of Geru's survey. To no one's surprise, the turian brandy certainly helped. It turned out that said survey was coming along quite well (it was actually Geru that had acquired the scales from the lemek for Shala), and he thought that the project would be nearly complete in a year.

Pomii had then given them a bit of information about the networks, such as they were. They were still a disaster, with little hope of recovering even half of what they had been able to handle pre-Pulse.

They were about to call it a night when Pomii asked a question that Shala had hoped would have been avoided.

"Was Han'Gerrel too busy to join us tonight, the little bosh'tet?" She had laughed amicably at her question - clearly she did not mean real offense. But the reactions that she got said otherwise, and gave her pause. Both Shala and Zaal stiffened noticeably, with Zaal lowering his head in sadness.

"Was it…was it something I said?"

Shala sighed before answering. "Pomii, you do not offend. But…Admiral Gerrel is something of a sore subject. Yes, the last time we all gathered like this, he was a willing and appreciated friend, but now…?" She could not continue, her eyes closing at the thought of what had become of their friend.

Zaal answered for her. "My dear, I am sorry I did not mention this. Han does not…get along so well with us these days. He quarrels with us, and has thrown undeserved barbs at Tali'Zorah. He does not make the arguments of a grown man. He tosses personal insults, and offends - especially Tali and Shala - with his words. He has become more cold, and is not the friend that you remember."

In disbelief, she softly asked the only logical question: "But…why?"

Shala was finally able to muster words. "I do not know, Pomii. It saddens me, more than he angers me."

"Keelah, I am sorry."

Shala placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I know, Pomii. So am I."

The dimly-lit room matched the man's somber mood. He'd thought of perhaps raising the level of light a couple of notches, but he found comfort in its dimness. In some ways, it reminded him of the light of a sunset on Rannoch. Tikkun was a K-class star, and by its nature was a relatively dim one. At sunset, its light was very similar to what Han'Gerrel was swimming in presently.

It had been at least an hour since Nat'Veral had dropped by with the next day's duty roster and crew transfers to Rannoch. He hadn't looked at the datapad once. It still sat idly on his desk, long forgotten.

The admiral shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Something was amiss, something was not right. It nagged at him, gnawed on him. It was an itch that he was unable to scratch. He shook his head, trying to clear it from his mind. He decided to move his frigate on the left flank.

Standing up, he surveyed the board from above, hoping to gain a tactical advantage from this height. The man sighed, rubbing his visor in numb frustration. He tried to see what was coming - the advantages, disadvantages, openings - where was the weakness? Where would it be in 10 moves? 50? He felt an itch emerge on the back of his neck. Immediately his suit sent a quick pulse to the afflicted area, easing the sensation. But the one inside his head?

That one was going nowhere.

There had been days when he and the other admirals would hold small tournaments playing ha'kero, this old quarian variant of the now-popular strategy game (even Daro had joined them on occasion), but those days were long gone now. Instead he was facing off against himself. He had often done this in his spare time - for a long while, he had considered this to be fun - this squaring off against himself in this tactical battle of wits.

He would've preferred to have been playing against Rael, if he'd had his way. There were many nights when he and his friend would waste an evening battling each other, even after Tali's mother - Rael's mate - had passed. Although, those nights were much more about letting his friend vent his frustration - and about how he mustn't let his daughter down, but that she couldn't see him like this.

Alas, Han was definitely not going to have his way, certainly not regarding his dead friend. Instead, he was stuck with his friend's daughter.

Tali.

What to do with her?

Han huffed. He wasn't so sure anymore. He knew that he was being a bosh'tet, but why did she have to be so unlike Rael? Keelah, she was brilliant and quick-thinking, and now a more-than-capable soldier. But she had also become a Geth sympathizer. She had somehow gone turncoat, lobbying for the old enemy. Yes, yes; the peace with the Geth was beneficial while it had lasted. But now? After the Pulse and the way that they had overloaded their networks here?

"Look at us now…" he mumbled.

Maybe it was just an accident. Nothing more than terrible timing. Besides, she couldn't have known. And what if she comes back with good news?

Maybe. But then there was the human.

Shepard.

He had initially hated the man after the Pulse had occurred. He distinctly remembered the sense of blazing anger as he watched helplessly as the Geth fired off their signal through the relay. Besides, if Shepard had let him destroy the Geth as he had so wanted to, they would not have made what advances they had while the Geth were still here. A fair trade? He was still unsure.

"You know, Shepard, Rael would have hated you," he informed the empty room.

Did that mean that he had to? Especially if they were bonded? Would it be more disrespectful for him to treat her - them - with such disdain?

Sighing, Han had no answer to that question, either. Ancestors - what if they were? What if Shepard was her other half? The thought gave him pause. How could he be? He wasn't even quarian.

"But what does it say that he's coming here with her?"

Quite a bit, it would seem. It seemed apparent that the human was willing to sacrifice whatever it was that he had known just to stay with his best friend's daughter. Yes, it sure seemed like he was serious - about a good number of things. He felt anger rise within him. How did they get so damn lu-

Without warning and releasing a guttural yell in a white-hot flash of anger, he reared back like he would strike the holo-board with his fist. Swinging toward the table, his fist stopped just short; shakily holding station mere centimeters beside the newly-positioned frigate. With a shuddering breath, he slowly and uncertainly retreated his fist. He was sweating profusely.

"Keelah…"

Clamping his arms shakily in front of his chest, he looked fearfully around his quarters, suddenly feeling like he didn't belong there. His eyes first darted around the room, looking for a predator that was not seen, but was felt. Eventually those eyes found and trained on the photo beside his bed, it was all that remained of her. Slowly, he felt calmer; steadier. Eventually, even the shaking stopped and Han was able to draw himself up to reclaim his full stature.

What had gotten into him?

He was frustrated, yes. That was a part of it, but not the only one. There were things that were missing, pieces to the puzzle in his mind that either no longer fit, or had vanished altogether.

Han wasn't sure, and he was afraid that it was getting worse.

His eyes continued to train on the photo of the quarian woman. When he sat back down to continue the game (flipping the board around to play from his opponent's perspective), the episode was nearly forgotten.

With a small smirk, he moved the dreadnought to take advantage of the opening.

At this time of day, Jal'Himmom was being bathed in Tikkun's thick orange light. Behind her, Daro'Xen vas Rannoch could hear the dull little sounds of her fellow citizens milling about as the day idly drew to a close. She could overhear the little chats and conversations of friends and co-workers as they returned home - likely to their bondmates, and possibly their children. She had studied the statistics, as they all had, and somehow she found herself agreeing with Shala'Raan. For their race to be as strong as possible, they really should make a concerted effort to locate and return their missing. So she she had volunteered, despite Han's suggestion that Tali'Zorah should be heading such an endeavor. It had not been so long ago that she would almost never find herself agreeing with anything that her fellow admirals thought, Shala in particular. This had become painfully more obvious as the days after the end of the war had meandered into weeks. So to find herself in agreement about this was both surprising to her, and yet she also felt it to be somehow completely natural.

Daro shrugged. She would begin sending messages from the Moreh tomorrow morning. Daro had relinquished her permanent residence on board shortly after she had returned from her stint working on the Crucible. Once she had taken their tech as far as she could, she saw no reason to stick around. Besides, she was a quarian - her people still came first. She thought that it would be nice to walk her halls again, just like old times. But that was for tomorrow. Right now though, she was watching another sunset on the homeworld.

Sitting here along the banks of the Ghanxi River, Daro had often found herself pondering. That she was "pondering" at all left her uncomfortable, especially since she was effectively stuck in a strange state of inaction while waiting for action, if that made sense. She was not sure that it did. But it was the most accurate description she could muster to describe her current state of affairs. She had given up on the Geth shortly after her meeting with Han'Gerrel. For whatever reason, their conversation had sapped whatever hope that she had had for salvaging what was left of the Geth, at least what remained of them on Rannoch. The fire had died, and at present, had yet to be replaced or rekindled.

With this emptiness, she found that it often coincided with time. Emptiness of purpose with an abundance of time made for some awkward bedfellows, she found. She'd been studying duty rosters for researchers and some marines under her command, but she found the task of assignment so meaningless. Before the Pulse, she could wrap herself up in so much information and research that she hadn't minded not sleeping because keelah she had felt so alive. Between that work and her other work on the Crucible, her mind had been so full of possibilities.

Now though, she found only the void.

It was a void that sometimes kept her awake at night. The irony was striking and not lost on her.

She was kept awake by nothing - an interminable silence that had penetrated her very being. And now her only hope lay in the hands of the missing admiral that she had shown so much contempt for.

"Maybe she'll actually find something useful," she muttered to no one in particular. Daro thought back to when Tali'Zorah had first returned from her pilgrimage, shortly after she herself had become an admiral. She had replaced the retiring fossil of Hermut'Suul vas Moreh. At the time, she'd been content to be his understudy, but he was not only losing his faculties, but also the will needed to fight the Geth. Even now, she thought that she might still hold something resembling guilt at the way that she had accelerated his retirement. That 15 marines had died because of the faulty intel that she had insured he be given did little to sway her conviction that it had been the correct course of action. But then Rael's daughter had returned with more data on the Geth in one instance than they had managed to glean from the old enemy in the previous 50 years combined. Daro had felt reinvigorated, with fresh information at her disposal, she was able to turn her own theories into tangible results. Maybe they'd get lucky and Tali'Zorah would find success a second time. At the very least, it had sure sounded like she had found something, but she had let precious little information slip during their quick briefing.

And her alien Shepard was coming with her, that much Tali'Zorah had made readily apparent.

"Likely to get under that idiot Han's skin."

Getting up from the soft ground with a quiet grunt, Daro made her way back inside. Entering, she stole a glance at the empty and now useless workbench that stood in the middle of the open space. Her cheeks flushed in a flash of anger. Taking in a deep breath, she immediately calmed herself.

She couldn't help but feel like the Geth had been meant for so much more. Somehow, she was supposed to have found a way to, what…

Use them?

Change them?

Daro wondered what they were like, the independent Geth on Rannoch. What were their thought routines like? Their subroutines? How had so much computer code and hardware learned to act independently of one another? Hell, she supposed that the ultimate prize would have been learning how a Reaper worked. After all, it was their code that led to independent Geth in the first place. Even the Reapers had been just machines, she figured. She'd had such precious little interaction with the Geth aboard Crucible Station as they hastily worked on the Crucible itself. The few that she had come across were…reluctant to answer her questions.

Did they see her as a threat, even then?

Turns out that it was Shepard that wound up ending them, it seemed. Daro huffed a laugh at the irony.

"Is that why you really hate him, Han? Because he finished what you could not?"

She still stood idly in the middle of her work area, turning a small torch mindlessly in her hands. She'd have to have a word with him. They couldn't afford for him to say or do something completely idiotic when they arrived - especially since they were arriving on board the Normandy. No matter what she thought of the quarians' current stature among the galaxy's other races, they could ill afford to make potential enemies of the humans. No, that definitely would not do. Besides, Shepard was clearly not a man to be trifled with, and if they were somehow bonded, then Tali'Zorah was not to be trifled with, either.

"I wonder what it's like?"

Without realizing it, Daro'Xen had now shuffled to the small chest of drawers that flanked the side of her bed. She pulled the old knife and holster from the bottom drawer, right where it always lived. It had been given to her (much like a certain Tali'Zorah) right before her own Pilgrimage. Its years'-old blood was still clinging to the still-shining blade with a grim determination, clutching at its metal surface so as to not be forgotten. She examined it with a careful eye, seeing the blade's imperfections and wondering what those imperfections would actually feel like in her uncovered palms. Sometimes, during some of her darker days, she would wonder how those imperfections would feel from the inside. Truthfully, she wasn't sure why she'd kept it after all these years, it did her no good now.

Now she thought that, maybe in hindsight, it had done her little good even during its only use.

"Really should clean it one of these days…" was her mumbled reply to the unasked question.

She wasn't even sure what that question might have been.

She fell down onto her bed, suddenly very tired. Clutching the blade to her chest, she thought that her chat with Gerrel could wait until tomorrow. She could do so after leaving the Moreh. Just a quick shuttle ride to the Neema. Yes, rest now. Tomorrow she could try to talk any insolence out of his head.

A/N:

Hi everyone! So I don't really leave author's notes or other explanatory info here (I constantly forget to add them to the Word document and then in the web-based editor), for that I apologize, because I like the bit of interaction involved with that sort of thing on AO3. Anyway…

So the first 19 chapters that preceded this one qualify as essentially "Part One". In hindsight, I could've (should've?) split this up into two stories. Oh well. "Spilt milk" and all that. But this chapter begins Part Two, and I very much wanted to "reset" the situation with the admirals and with Rannoch while they await the fifth admiral's arrival.

So if you're back, thanks for reading! If you've waited patiently for this next chapter (with no explanation from the bosh'tet author), I thank you kindly for your patience!