On Earth, almost every major city on the planet had shared a distinct feature. Whether it was London, Boston, Rome, or Delhi, these cities were marked by a distinctive circular set of roads that wrapped around the metropolis itself. "Ring roads" as they were called. In the days of heavy automobile traffic, the roads were used to bypass the inner workings of the cities themselves in order to quickly move about to other, and usually more important, areas of the city.

It is apparently a feature that other civilizations have adopted over the years, because Jal'Himom was no different.

The great quarian city had been constructed in a very similar way, in days before quarians had largely adopted personal air travel. These days though, many of the returned denizens of the city found these roads to be "refreshing". They were, by recent comparison, spacious and charming. The spaciousness was, of course, their most tantalizing feature. Because of their size, the planetside quarians could simply mill about if they were so inclined. This tendency was especially true during the golden hours around sunrise and sunset, and many would purposefully walk without purpose. It was a way to soak in a simple pleasure that had been denied them for too long. Somewhere in the backs of their minds, most understood that the novelty would eventually wear off and the reintegration of the skycar would take over, but for now?

Keelah. They could watch Tikkun splash its low light on these buildings for the rest of their lives were they able.

At the center of this city sat the Fen'tal, the cone-shaped building that had housed the Conclave as the primary seat of government before the war. Whether it had been damaged or destroyed during the Morning War, no quarian alive could tell for certain. All that was known now was that when they returned to the city, it was standing as the old texts had depicted it. Physically, it stood at about 150 meters tall, was approximately the same diameter at its base, and when the combined members of the Admiralty Board and the Conclave who had met outside entered the building proper?

"Awestruck" was the most apt word. Psychologically, the thing towered over them. It represented everything the quarians had been at the height of their power: adventurous, curious, respected. With time, perhaps that could be the case again.

After they had lingered outside to greet some of the onlookers (omnitools at the ready for a quick, historic photo of the whole affair) who had recognized the gathering for what it was - the beginning of the first functioning quarian government on Rannoch in three centuries - they shuffled inside past the large bronze doors. What they found inside was nothing short of extraordinary.

They passed into the initial chamber - humans would have called it the "anteroom" - and were led by Zaal'Koris. Inside, they found a room that was adorned with ornate etchings winding their way across the top of the square chamber. Han and Shala recognized the swirling lines and circles from what they had studied of old quarian art - these had been popular with building design from the old era. The room itself was large enough to comfortably fit all 9 of them, with room to spare. Even through her suit, Daro'Xen could feel the noticeably cooler temperature of the tan marble-like walls as she pressed her hand against it. She muttered to herself in wonder.

"This is incredible…" The declaration came from Mar'Ateh, who was the representative of what remained of the orbiting fleet.

Shala only nodded her head in a quick acknowledgment of the crimson-suited woman. She was barely aware of the words spoken, and that she had even acknowledged them.

Zaal and most of the others simply looked around, heads seemingly on swivels.

Not Han, though. Han was noticeably silent and…well, Shala thought that he looked "stiff". She shrugged, assuming that they all were dealing with the enormity of what was taking place in their own way.

When they entered the chamber proper (through another heavy set of ornate bronze doors) the shocked inhalations came from all of them at once.

The room itself was circular and surrounded by three sets of what Shepard would have dubbed "bleacher" seats. These seats made their way all around the room, and no one was certain just how many quarians they could hold. But it wasn't the outside seating that grabbed and held their collective attention like iron to magnets. That honor went to the walls, of all things.

There were idle and reverent footsteps, hushed and subtle whispers and hands that flexed and snapped to vocalizers as their gazes lifted from the encircling seats to the walls that rose above them. These walls - keelah - it was like a portal through time. What they saw were quarians - themselves - in their truest form. No suits, no machines. The painted images were of just their beautifully-skinned predecessors, often wearing only the traditional robes and realks (even many of the men, Shala noted), with many adorned with the customary pal'tec vis surden hanging around their necks. They were depicted doing perhaps the most mundane of activities: they were talking to each other.

"Keelah, Shala…if only Rael was here to see this."

Shala turned to the sound, both shocked and relieved that it had come from Han. Laying eyes on the older man, she saw him with his hands covering his vocalizer. He shuddered.

She couldn't stop herself. As much as he had been railing on about Tali, she saw in him then the man that he once had been. His voice was full of emotion, and she thought that she saw some shaking to his body. A sob, maybe? She put an arm around him, and placed her helmeted head on his shoulder. Admirals or not, the pretenses were gone.

"I know, Han. I am sorry that he is not." She stopped, considering carefully her next words. "I wish Mera was here. She and Rael both should have been here for this. And your Jana, too. I miss them, Han." She paused as she felt tears welling up. "Oh, how I wish a great many of us were still here today."

For a moment, she feared that she had touched a nerve still too raw with her words. But he placed a slightly shaky hand on hers and nodded. "I know, Shala. So do I. You know, I always told Jana that we would be here together, if at all?" She shook her head. "Yes, I told her that. And while I am here and grateful, this still feels somewhat…hollow. I feel as if I have…betrayed her somehow." He gave a quick shake of his head, as if dismissing a thought. "I fear that I have…not been myself lately." He sniffled lightly. "And I have taken it out on you…and especially Tali'Zorah. I must apologize to her when she arrives…and to Shepard as well."

Shala was not able to put into words precisely what she felt. She had grown so accustomed to simply seeing this man through the lens of anger and frustration. It had been easy to forget that for a long time they had been friends. Too easy to forget, in fact. She stood up, removing her head from his shoulder.

"Han, there will be time enough for that when they arrive." She pulled him gently by the wrist. "Now come, we have much to discuss."

He pulled his arm from her hand while still managing to convey his appreciation for her. With both hands, he gave a quick tug to his suit in an effort to straighten it before he regained his own purposeful walk to the center of the building.

Nine of the twenty chairs that encircled the square table at the center of the room were filled with what were, at present, nine of the ten most important quarians in the galaxy. And the tenth was on her way.

Speaking of which, it was at the thought of her Tali that brought Shala unease now. She was not overly thrilled (an understatement, to say the least) that they were here now without that tenth quarian. Indeed, she had argued against starting this without her. As far as she knew, it was just another way to alienate their fifth, and arguably their most celebrated, admiral. But once again, she had acquiesced. This time it was to appease this Conclave - which by human democratic standards was little more than a "council" - who had wanted to meet now, and there was no convincing them otherwise. So when confronted with their demanding insistence (especially from the one named Lano), they had acquiesced.

Shala knew that this, too, was a mistake. Tali would find out, learn that they hadn't waited for her when she was only two Rannoch-ian days away, and she would be furious and…hurt. Shala was not unaware of what damage to their own relationship this might also cause. Sometimes she felt like a passenger - unable to pull the brakes or change direction. For anyone, this was a scary proposition. For an admiral of the quarian fleet, it was downright frightening.

As it was, they had been able in large part, to shed the overbearing sense of awe that had permeated so much of their initial reaction upon entry. Instead now they were fully invested in discussion, the heart of quarian civilization since time immemorial. It was a tradition that they so desperately longed to return to. It was a tradition that they were ushering back in, here, on the planet of their birth.

"Of course, that is important, Van'Relai. Do not think that it is not," Zaal was speaking animatedly - not forcefully - to the representative of the newly-renamed city of Chayym, now that the liveship of the same name had been scuttled completely. He had asked them how long it would take to send upgraded farming equipment to his area. "But right now, I believe our first priority has to be these networks."

"I understand their importance, Admiral Koris, but I flew two hours from Chayym for this and I think -"

Shala interrupted him. "Forgive me, Van'Relai. But you said that your flight in here took two hours?"

Daro thought she knew what she was getting at. She smirked at the coming embarrassment.

"Well, yes. But I fail to see -"

"If our networks were up," she began gently, "you would perhaps not have needed to have done so. Not for such a request, anyway."

The representative sat back in his chair, visibly defeated.

The pause allowed another voice to be heard, it came from two places to Van'Relai's left. "I am forced to agree with Admiral Koris here." This was the blue-suited representative of Nurtila, Lano'Tiel. "We cannot hope to coordinate anything else without them." She paused to look around the table at each of them. "No matter what our goal - whether it's farming, or housing, or keelah, even defense - without the ability to effectively and reliably communicate across the planet, we cannot hope to accomplish anything else."

Daro huffed. "Well, we do not have the means to do anything about it. Not at least until Admiral Zorah returns."

"Why only then, Admiral Xen?" That was the voice of Mar'Ateh.

It took everything in Xen's power to not make her annoyance with this idiot bosh'tet known. "Simply because, Mar'Ateh, if we try to reset the networks - which is what our teams have determined must take place," Zaal gave a slight affirming nod as Pomii had told him as much, "and we lose all of this data - which is also what our teams have told us will take place - then we may be setting ourselves back by decades."

"How do we know that a reset will fix them?"

Shala sighed, getting ready to answer when Daro picked up where she had left off. "We do not, not with certainty. What we do know is that we must wait until Admiral Zorah returns to make a determination then. If she has acquired the information that we think is caught in the networks, then it will be useful and we will not need to hold out hope that we can find another solution." She brought her hands from the table to rest on her vocalizer. "And even then, we will not be able to regain any more than," she looked over at Zaal, "how much did Pomii guess at, Zaal?"

Without missing a beat, he answered. "No more than 40% of our capacity from before the Pulse hit. And that's her most optimistic estimate."

All five of the civilian representatives let out audible gasps.

"So what do we do until then?"

"Simple, Falla'Morta. We wait. It is all we can do." Shala had finished the discussion in as matter-of-fact a way as she could muster. Her tone told them all that there was little more to be said.

"Very well." Lano glanced across at the other representatives. "We accept that the networks are top priority, and that we will wait for Admiral Zorah's return?"

The others nodded (some begrudgingly so) their ascent.

"Very good. Proposal accepted, admirals. We will make a determination upon Admiral Zorah's return."

Shala couldn't help but think that there was a bit too much bravado for such a small thing to have done. She shrugged to herself. Maybe it was the significance of the moment that created the air of…she wasn't sure. It just felt so fake, so contrived.

"There," Zaal chuckled, "that was not so bad, was it?"

Everyone, even Daro, let out small bits of laughter. It had helped to take the edge off their anxiousness about being here in this building, doing what they were doing. Overhead, the orange light of Tikkun was cast through the skylight at the top of the cone-shaped building, bathing them all in its decadent warmth and light.

"No, Admiral Koris, it was not." Lano spoke again, eager to move things along. "Speaking of Admiral Zorah and the human, Shepard, there are a few unanswered questions about them that I would like to address."

Shala tried to hide her discomfort. She did not like the tone that Lano had used. At all.

This woman, representative or not, had better show them some damn respect. If not, then the promise that she had given Zaal would be equally valid against this det kazuat as well.

"What are your concerns, Lano?" Despite her attempt to mask her annoyance, it remained evident.

"Admiral Raan, I know that you are close to Tali'Zorah, and I presume by extension, Admiral Shepard as well."

"That is a reasonable assumption to make, but do not presume for me to speak on their behalf," she replied in a measured tone.

"Hmm. Of course not. I only had a few questions, if you don't mind."

"I will do my best to answer them, Lano."

"First, are they…'together'?"

Well, straight to the point then.

There were a number of uncomfortable shifts in chairs.

"I do not see how that is -"

Surprised that it was Han who had objected, Shala extended a hand and responded when he quieted down.

"Thank you, Han. But it is a reasonable question. In short, if by 'together' you mean 'bonded', then the answer I would give you is 'yes', Lano."

Fala interjected. "Well, how can that be possible? He's not even -"

Shala blazed her eyes in his direction. "'Quarian', Fala? Clearly, he is not. But he is coming here with her, which says much about him. Whether or not he bonds in the same way that we do…? Humans do love. And if it is enough for Tali'Zorah, then I expect it to be enough for anyone else. Do I make myself clear?"

"Even so," Lano began, "do we know what they will be doing? Where will they be staying? While I appreciate what the human has done, we cannot afford to have…what word did Gerna use…? 'Freeloader' I think is the one. Yes, we cannot afford to have a freeloader among us."

These words were met with an absolutely stunned silence. Just where the hell had this woman gotten her information from?

And who the hell was "Gerna"?

Shala frankly didn't give a shit about the answers to either question, because this insolence was going to stop right now. Between Fala and this bosh'tet, Shala had heard quite enough. The admiral cleared her throat, while leaning forward in her chair. The others saw Shala's posture for what it was: menacing. "Lano, forgive me, but if you even hint at disrespecting Admiral Zorah or Admiral Shepard in any way again," her voice had already reached something resembling a snarl, "you will not only have Tali'Zorah's reckoning to face, you will also have mine. Am I clear, Lano?"

The remaining seven of the other quarians were facing Lano now. Even Daro'Xen, who actually found the exchange rather funny, couldn't believe that this idiot had thought so little of Shepard, but also assumed, what? That the rest of them felt the same way? The eccentric admiral couldn't help but laugh quietly. Fala looked somewhat relieved that his contribution to this situation had not been the one to completely set the admiral off.

As for Lano, she cleared her throat uncomfortably. It appeared that she had grossly misread the room.

And maybe her son's assessment of the human, based on these reactions.

Shala noticed that like Tali, this woman also had a penchant for fidgeting. When she responded, her voice conveyed that she was now rather…contrite.

"Well…yes. I apologize if I was…out of line. Please, forgive me Shala'Raan. I may have been…misinformed."

She had no idea how the hell she could have been "misinformed" about Shepard, of all people, but Raan was happy to let the matter drop. "Yes well, let us try not to make such presumptions in the future - especially ones of such a personal nature." She received the expected nods from around the table. She extended the olive branch. "But your other questions are reasonable, Lano. As for where they will be staying, if they do not have other options - we have not spoken since they left the Sol System - There is space aboard the Tonbay, and I believe that Zaal mentioned that there was room in the city as well?"

"Yes, Shala. There are a few rooms and even some one-floor homes that are not being used."

"Hmm, good. Then we can once again wait until their arrival here to determine those arrangements." The declaration was followed by another round of nods. She couldn't help but notice the subtle movements - the leans, the slight shuffling of chairs - that the others around Lano had made. They were not just trying to distance themselves from her words, but from the idiot that had uttered them as well.

Zaal broke the still slightly uncomfortable silence. "So then, about Admiral Shepard. I actually have an idea that I wanted to put forward." He noticed the definitively strained looks he was getting - mostly by way of tensed shoulders and the angles of their heads - Shala's posture was even more pronounced. Keelah, she looked ready to get into it with him now. "Uh, I was going to ask him - depending on if he is physically able, of course - if he would perhaps not mind training some of our security forces or marines. He is still quite the soldier and maybe -"

"Do you really think that is a good idea, Zaal?" The objection, unsurprisingly, had come from Han'Gerrel. "I know that he is quite the decorated soldier, but not only is he not quarian, but as you pointed out, he is also quite injured." Shala almost spoke up, but he was not yet finished. "Furthermore, if I recall correctly, he is a biotic - a potent one, I might add - but those talents will do no quarian any good."

Shala frowned. She had thought that maybe he had "turned a corner" with Shepard, but perhaps she had been mistak-

"Han," Zaal had retorted forcefully, "I was merely suggesting that we ask, if he is able. It would be doing us a disservice if we do not at least consid-"

That's when civility ended. Han'Gerrel arose from his chair, pointing at the other admiral. The civilians leaned back - away from this exchange that was quickly escalating. They were too shocked to do anything else.

"No! I will not have our marines think that they are not good enough anymore! That they need Shepard to make them what? Worthy? I for one will -"

Shala erupted. "Han! Zaal! Stop this!" She had angrily pointed first at Han, then at Zaal as she had scolded them. "Keelah, you two! What has gotten into you both?" She stood with her hands on her hips, like a mother that was righteously pissed off at her misbehaving children. What she had thought was a reasonably joyous occasion - it should have been - had devolved rather quickly. First, that bosh'tet Lano had opened her big mouth, and now these two? Shala had already raised her own child, she didn't have the patience to deal with more.

Daro, of course, was noticeably quiet. Instead, she watched with a detached curiosity. She figured that Zaal would have responded in such a way - after all, it was his idea - but what had prodded Han into such a display? She wasn't certain, but she would make sure to keep a closer eye on him.

Something more might be amiss.

"Just what was that all about, Han?"

Daro and Han were quietly walking back through the city. It had grown late in the day, but Tikkun still hung on proudly in its sky. The shadows were long and there was something of a breeze motoring through, a harbinger of an end to the dry spell, it would seem. The intruding clouds overhead was evidence further.

After the little fiasco between Zaal and her current walking companion, things had died down pretty quickly and returned to what had been a cordial affair. They had discussed plans regarding the Alliance ship for when it arrived. The human councilor - Lilly'Kenworth - had promised "supplies" with the Normandy. She hadn't known what precisely they would be, but they were on their way just the same. She only asked that the crew be allowed to take some "time off" after their recent supply runs. Neither the admirals nor the representatives could find an issue with that, and it was unlikely that there would be any disruption as a result of their presence.

The fact that things had returned to normal so quickly only left Daro'Xen even more curious about Han's state of mind. In her experience, mood swings like that were…rare among her people.

They were mostly sticking to the back streets as they walked back to the shuttle that would take Han up to the Neema. These streets, in contrast to the main thoroughfares found around the Fen'tal, were relatively narrow, quiet, and rather picturesque in their own quaint way. Daro actually enjoyed this walk most evenings.

As for her question, she had asked him this sternly, but with control. She knew that after today, giving the appearance of respectability was paramount. While they had decided to begin the process of turning governing power over solely to the Conclave, at present, the Board was still vitally important. Best to not give off concerning appearances.

The older man put his hand at the top of his visor, shaking his head. "Keelah, Daro. I do not know. It just…came over me. Zaal asked about Shepard assisting us and…" he sighed, "it was a good idea, Daro. I do not know why I reacted in such a way." He looked away from her as they walked, noticing the small details in the stone that comprised most of the buildings here. "I…" Defeated, Han no longer had the words to express himself. He stopped walking.

"Daro, stop. Please."

She rolled her eyes, thankful for the mask that kept this from him.

And yet…?

"I…um, just wanted to say 'thank you'."

"For what, Han?" she asked him softly.

He stopped. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words were gone. Stolen from him by a fleeting pang of emotion that had disappeared as quickly as it had entered. Not wanting to look completely foolish, he strung together some bullshit thing to say.

Somehow, she knew that he'd meant to say more. "Yes, well…you're welcome, Han. But in the future, can you try to keep yourself under control?" She did not wait for a reply, and there was no sense in making the man feel any worse. "Now come," Daro gripped his shoulder as she turned to continue walking, "let's get you to your transport and back to the Neema."

The old vessel was a testament. Quarians were, of course, renowned engineers and this shuttle was quite indicative of their skill. He was pretty sure that it was originally an asari-made craft, judging by the sweeping and graceful lines of its exterior. It was a good shuttle, well-made for its time. And if it wasn't for the quarian necessity, it would have been scuttled, scrapped, and sold for parts over 80 years ago. But not here. Here, these once works-of-art were painstakingly preserved, their shelf lives extended by orders of magnitude for the simple purpose of survival. It was an art in and of itself, this resilience, and quarians were masters on the level of van Gogh, Michelangelo, Hirtina, and one of the rare salarian artists, Mertan. Han sat quietly in the back of this particular masterpiece of a shuttle, contemplating while trying to determine how this day had gotten away from him so quickly. He tried replaying it in his mind, and he found himself having trouble doing so. What he did recall was striking.

He had been fine, he had felt comfortable. He had almost, he thought, felt like his "old self". Even after going into the Fen'Tal, he was saddened, yes, but was still sure of himself. And Shala, ancestors bless her, had even been there for him. What a friend she was to have done so after everything that he done and said in recent weeks. But how she had been right. Of course Jana had been on his mind. And Rael. And Mera. As he recalled their meeting, he even remembered defending Shepard to that bosh'tet Lano. But then? Well, Zaal had made his very reasonable suggestion regarding Shepard. And it was just that - a suggestion - that perhaps he could lend them his assistance with military matters. Keelah, Zaal had been right. Why had it caused him to just…explode? He didn't really think that it was about his pride in their military and security forces. Of course he was proud of them, but even many of them that he spoke with would have been honored to train from someone like Shepard. What was it about him that had set him off like that?

Was it even him that had done so?

He did not know.

Which gave him quite a bit of pause.

Relative to other species, quarians had exceptionally accurate memories, with almost total and instant recall. He could remember almost every detail of the first time he and Jana had "linked suits". Her smile, her scent, keelah, her touch. Even now he shuddered (in the best way) at the thought of her. Without realizing that he had done so, he pulled up an old photo of them that he had taken during one of their forays in a clean room aboard the Neema. He swallowed back the lump in his throat as he gazed longingly at this image of his bondmate wearing nothing but the slightly pink skin she was born in. The beauty of her body was outdone only by the radiance of her laughing smile.

And yet, something was off about everything.

"Oh Jana, I miss you so much. What would you…"

What had he wanted to say? What would she think of him now? Was that it?

That he did not know gave him pause.

He sniffled again. "I don't understand what's happening, saera, but I know that I miss you." It was about the only thing that he was sure of anymore.

The pilot announced that they were on approach to the Neema, jarring him from his thoughts.

"Yes, of course." He cleared his throat and swallowed back the lump there that he seemed to fight every other day now. "Thank you, lieutenant."

Closing his omnitool, he sighed as he tried to summon the strength to once again be "Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema".