Next day was business as usual at the Academy, even though most Instructors had only had an hour or two of sleep. When people started to slowly arrive in the cafeteria for lunch, Jo and Joker already sat there together. He was quietly dozing with his head propped on his elbow, she was working on her datapad. Their arms and legs were touching in as many spots as possible without being indecent.

"Amigo, this had better be good," Vega declared and threw himself into a chair. He patted Joker on the shoulder, which caused the slumbering man to jump. Tali, Garrus, Cortez, Ken, Gabby, Alicia, Jack and Karin joined them. For some reason they were all excited about something, and it apparently had to do with Joker.

"What do you mean?" He asked Vega, rubbing the sand of tiredness out of his eyes. The rest of the guys quickly sat around the table and looked at Joker with raised eyebrows.

Vega activated his omnitool and held it out to Joker. A news vid played on the screen. It showed two female reporters talking in a studio. They were in their early twenties, still giggling and immature, but styled like models. The show, a typical gossip set-up, clearly wasn't aiming at sophisticated audience.

"A breaking news reached us this morning, Cassandra, and it has to do with Chrysalis' most famous resident." One young woman said, smiling like the cat that ate the canary.
"That's right, Antonia, the news is about none other than Commander Moreau herself!" The second host joined in on the joke. They were both happy about their story, almost rubbing their hands in glee.
"Who knows, perhaps she won't be Commander Moreau for much longer after we reveal the footage."
"Truth be told, I don't want to be in her husband's shoes right now. Dear viewers, it's up to you to decide: is this trouble in paradise or is there something more sinister going on?"
The picture changed to footage taken by a hand-held omnitool in some suburban area of the city. It showed the Swan landing in the parking lot of a small but beautiful house. Joker got out of the Swan and unhurriedly walked to the front door. Before he reached it, the door slid open and a pretty, black-haired woman greeted him with a small hug. He gave her a cursory kiss - more like kissed the air next to her ear - and grinned widely, following her inside.
"Last week Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau, freshly appointed N7 Pilot Instructor at Commander Moreau's Intergalactic Cooperation Academy, was seen entering the home of one Cecilia Suarez, a twenty nine year old human from Earth, who works as a teacher in a local dance school. According to our anonymous source he has spent nearly two hours in Ms. Suarez's house and left whistling a tune." True to Antonia's words the footage showed Joker exiting the house and whistling. Back in the studio:
"Our source also presented us with vids and pictures proving that Lieutenant Moreau had visited the lady before, which explains their familiarity."
"Yes, in fact, he's been observed visiting her twice every week for almost a month now. What do you think is going on, Antonia?"
"Oh-oh," the girl put her hand to her mouth in a fake shock and looked straight into the camera. "Could Commander Moreau's husband be... dare I say it? Cheating on her?"
Cassandra piped in:
"And even if we were seeing something innocent here, Ms. Suarez's refusal to comment makes it look a lot more suspicious!" The next vid showed a bunch of reporters ambushing the black-haired beauty when she exited her house. They shouted questions at her and cameras flew right into her face, but the woman confidently fought her way to her car, saying:
"No comment."
Cassandra spoke up again:
"I'm dying to know what Mr. Moreau has to say for himself. We will share the news with all our viewers once we get the Lieutenant's comment. Until then, keep your fingers on the Pulse!"

Apparently, their show was called Chrysalis Pulse.

The same vid was playing at most tables now, all recruits buzzing about what they'd seen. Joker silently returned to sleeping, ignoring their friends' expecting faces. Jo had never stopped working on her datapad to begin with.

"So, man, is this fake or was it your evil twin or what's going on there?" Vega insisted.

"Nothing that you need to know," Joker muttered through interrupted sleep.

"Lola?" Vega directed his line of questioning at her, and the rest of the table looked eagerly back and forth. Even Joker lifted one eyelid.

Jo finally looked up from her datapad and took in her husband's face.

"Got anything to tell me?" She asked lazily.

"No," he said. Jo returned to her datapad.

" Did you already know about this?" Cortez asked.

"I didn't," Jo shrugged. "And if Jeff says there is nothing to tell, then there's nothing to tell. Case closed."

"Wow," Jack whistled. "You two are creepily confident of each other."

"Trust me," Jo gave Jack a wicked grin. "If you sucked cock as well as I do, you wouldn't feel threatened by pretty Latinas either."

Alicia turned beet-red and inhaled her drink the wrong way, coughing.

"Spirits, Jo, don't you ever filter your speech?" Garrus shook his head on Alicia's behalf.

"No," Jo said. Instead she opened a quick search on her omnitool and called the contact given on the dance school's official site.

"Commander Moreau," Cecilia Suarez appeared on the screen, tired and worse for wear despite the relatively early time of day. "If you want explanations, talk to your husband."

"I don't want explanations," Jo smiled reassuringly. "Do you need protection detail?"

"I..." The other woman looked over her shoulder for a moment. "Can I get back to you on that?"

"I'll send a shuttle to your work right now," Jo took the decision out of her hands. "Two security guards will escort you home safely and stay parked outside your house for a couple of days, until the reporters get bored."

"Uhm. Thank you." It was obvious that Cecilia didn't want to admit to weakness, but she was overwhelmed.

Jo ended the call and simply shrugged at her friends as she messaged Matty's security team with details of their new assignment.

"That's it?" Ken asked what everyone was thinking. "Why are you taking it so calmly? I mean, I admire how tight you guys are, but... Not even a blip of suspicion?"

"That Logan Westen guy from last night, he told me that he believed Joker was cheating on me," Jo shrugged. "When I told him he was delusional, he wasn't happy, which leads me to believe that he's behind that footage and has leaked the story to the media this morning. I'll personally look into who's following us around and recording everything we do, and they'll be sorry. And as to suspicion: It's true, I'm just that confident."

Ken and Gabby shared a long glance and a slow smile. Jo had no doubt that they knew exactly how it felt to see the word in each other's eyes and knowing that their relationship was solid, that love and trust between them were unconditional.

"Jo," Dex spoke up through her omnitool before the conversation started again. "Three shuttles have left the planet's surface two minutes ago and are on a direct course towards the station. Their ETA is twenty one minutes. The shuttles are rentals from a local company, but the people inside are not residents of this system, they are also heavily armed with high grade military weapons. There are thirty six people all together, all humans, mixed genders. I have the shuttles within my scanners' range and can take control over their engines at any moment. What are your orders?"

"Very good!" Jo finally put her work aside and rubbed her hands in anticipation. "Your early warning protocol works very well. Monitor and guide them to Dock 2."

"Understood."

"Jo, who is that?" Her table companions sat up straight.

"You'll find out when they get here," Jo got up and held her hand out to Joker: "Let's go greet our guests. Jack, give everyone the order to assemble in parade formation at the dock."

"Will do," Jack grumbled and typed a message. All the recruits' omnitools chirped at once around them. They read their orders and headed for the exit in an orderly fashion. Joker held Jo's hand and followed her out.

Once in the corridor, Jo pulled him into the closest empty classroom, away from the crowd of recruits.

"Are you taking dance lessons?" She asked him.

"I'm trying to," he admitted, even though reluctantly. "It's not going so well. It was meant to be a surprise..."

Jo squealed, pounced and kissed the living daylights out of him.

"Oh god, I love you so much," she wrapped herself around him. "What did I ever do to deserve someone as stunning, beautiful, wonderful, breathtaking, magnificent as you?"

"That's the reaction I get for trying to learn how to dance?" He laughed, breathless after the enthusiastic kiss.

"You're doing it for me, for us, to share something. It means more to me than you know." She still held on to him, running her hands over his shoulders and neck. She wanted to crawl under his skin and curl up to sleep there.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Joker peppered her face with small kisses. "I didn't want to actually go to a class and make a fool of myself in front of people, so I looked up a teacher and asked her for private lessons. I wasn't really kissing her, you know. She insists it's a proper way of greeting where she comes from."

"And you were whistling a tune in the vid because you had been dancing to it," Jo nodded. "How come I didn't notice your little trips until now?"

"I've worked around our schedule. I really wanted it to be a surprise, you know, like the next time we're in that kind of a situation I could just grab you and astonish you with my awesome skills. Sweep you off your feet. Stupid, I know, 'cause it didn't work out like that. Other people make dancing look so easy, I had no idea how hard it really is."

"First of all, there is nothing stupid about that fantasy. If it had worked out the way you imagined, the surprise would have been one of the most wonderful moments of my life. Don't you dare depreciate yourself like that. Second, what kind of dance are you learning?"

"Tango."

"Try something easier at the beginning."

"That's what Cecilia said!" He laughed.

"And she's right! Come on now, I have a surprise of my own to share."

Four hundred and fifty recruits, eighty staff members and a third of the security force lined up in parade formation when the blast doors of the dock opened and let three shuttles inside. They landed in a line and the hatches hissed. Thirty six heavily armed people pooled out and lazily lined up, facing the station's population.

Several of the newcomers wore N7 badges on their collars, and those who didn't have a badge still wore the red-white stripes on their right arms.

A frisson of excitement swept over Jo's recruits. She smiled and stepped towards the guests.

"You, you and you," she pointed at three brutal-looking stone-faced tanks with the coveted badges on their armour. "Follow Instructor Vega to the conference room A2-48." She turned to nod at Vega. These three had been Hackett's personal bodyguards after the war. When the old Academy simplified the admission process in order to train more capable soldiers for the war, many people got in who wouldn't have been admitted otherwise. These three, chosen by Hackett while he'd still been indoctrinated, were barely more than mercs. Vega, who had dealt with the trio before, knew that.

"Hackett," Jo approached the man at the front of the line and shook his hand. "Join Vega, please?" She made it sound like a friendly question, but the Admiral knew that it was anything but. He stoically nodded and followed Vega and his three former guards out of the hangar. This left Jo and her people facing thirty two Field Agents of various specialisations and ranks. There was one thing everyone in the room had in common, though:

"Welcome home," Jo inclined her head towards the newcomers respectfully. "We are and will ever be one family. It was about time for all of us to get together, compare notes, exchange stories and experience, and take stock of what we've lost and what we still have."

"Jo Moreau," an elderly man stepped forward to shake her hand. He was even older than Hackett and a legend in the Academy. Another elderly man with no hair and a wrinkled woman joined him, greeting Jo.

"When Mama calls, we listen and obey."

"Edgard Vu," Jo affectionately shook the man's hand. "Theo Sadler, Alessandra Cooley," she greeted the other two. Then she turned to her recruits and Instructors. "We are in the presence of legends, my friends."

Some people laughed, suggesting that Jo was the biggest legend in the room, but she waved it off:

"To die in a blaze of glory makes sure you're seen by everyone, but you're forgotten soon after. Agents Vu, Cooley and Sadler have been in the service longer than I've been alive. They have retired." She stressed the word and beamed at her elderly guests: "You are an inspiration to me. Now more than ever I need to believe that there is life after the fight. That it's possible to stop." She didn't have to specify which fight. An active Agent's life was nothing but a constant fight. She explained to her recruits: "Agent Sadler belonged to the very first batch of recruits chosen to train in the program before it even officially existed, almost fifty years ago. Not only did he finish the training, but he also proved himself extraordinary, starting the whole idea of an N7 commendation. He is the original N7."

The recruits and even the instructors hushed and gave small gestures of respect appropriate in their cultures.

"Agent Vu was in the first class of the Academy the year it was officially founded, thirty five years ago. Also, not only a successful graduate, but an N7. Agent Cooley joined the ranks four years later and also became an N7. These three Agents retired from the Service at different points in the last decade, but when the war started, they came back, for which I'm very grateful. Their experience helped countless people to survive, to fight and to succeed. Agents," Jo addressed them once more. "I bow before you and sincerely hope one day to live up to your legends."

"Jo," Alessandra, small and wrinkly but still exceptionally strong, took Jo's hand. "You don't bow to us. You're the Mama now and we all agree that you deserve it. You lead, and we'll always be proud to follow."

It just didn't feel right to Jo. These three people had decades of experience on her, saw the First Contact War first hand, survived thousands of missions and not only lived to tell the tale, but became even stronger through the experience. Their presence here today was more than an attest to their physical capabilities. More than anything it spoke for their exceptional mental stability, the kind Jo only hoped to gain some day. These were the true N7s in every way in her opinion and their approval meant as much to her as her approval meant to Vega.

"Thank you for your kind words," she said humbly. "Thank you for coming when I called."

"We are one family," Sadler nodded and ushered her towards the other visitors.

One by one Jo introduced each of them to her guys. They were a colourful mishmash of different specialisations, ranks ranging from N2 to N7. This group of people were all that was left of the old Academy after the war.

None of them had been in training at the same time with Jo, some coming later but most graduating before her. They'd lost their teams, had barely survived with horrendous injuries, got medical attention just like Jo had, and dropped everything to come here the day after the First Annual Victory Ball to this family reunion because they believed in the Academy absolutely. Jo dismissed all classes for the rest of the day and once the introductions were finished, she released the guests into the hands of eager recruits. Instantly they were swarmed and led towards the atrium, where the recruits got a chance to grill them about their experiences. Jo left them to it and gave her Senior Instructors a tiny nod.

They followed her to the conference room where Vega and Hackett babysat the three oddball N7s.

When the group filed into the room, the three men, whom Jo still hadn't heard speak even a single word, tensed warily. Jo made sure that everyone was inside and that the door was locked.

"Gentlemen," she addressed the three. "Remove your badges and surrender them to me."

Two frowned, one grunted:

"Why?"

"An N7 badge is my seal of approval. You haven't earned it."

"I got it before you became the leader," the man growled. He reminded her more of a feral animal than of a human being. Not unusual for an experienced merc. He was big, dark skinned and heavily scarred. The look from under his black eyebrows became hostile. "You can't take it back."

The other two didn't speak, but they made the same feral impression.

"I can and I will. You were permitted into the training at the time of great need, when the Academy needed strong fighters in the shortest time possible. All background checks and psych evaluations were waved for your batch, which was not the case for any other recruit or Agent. When Hackett brought you in, you simply fit the bill for what he needed. These N7 badges are in no way your accomplishment, they're simply consolation gifts to sweeten the deal for the cannon fodder. That's what you are, nothing more and nothing less."

She was not going to tell anyone that Hackett had been indoctrinated when he recruited them. However, in her opinion it meant that the Reapers had approved of these guys through Hackett. It made them creepy, but more so a probable danger to the Academy. She was not going to tell these men that they were most likely indoctrinated as well even right now.

"The Academy standards are up again and it's up to me to clean the house. Badge or not, you three are still hardcore mercs, criminals. The Academy always had a very strict no-criminals policy, the only way for a criminal to be admitted is a complete reformation proven by psychologists after countless sessions, combined with extraordinary abilities that can be used for our goals. You have neither. I've read your dossiers and all you have is knowledge of arms and combat. It takes a hell of a lot more to become a real N7. Ask him." She pointed at Vega, who impassively sat on the edge of the conference table. "In the end this is my family and I trust each of the members to have my back in war and in peace. But I don't trust you. So don't make it hard on yourself. Remove the badges and surrender them."

The mercs looked at Hackett for support, since he was the one to give them the commendation in the first place, but the man had retreated to the back of the room and was busy with his omnitool. Faced with the full committee of the Academy's Senior Instructors, the mercs had no other choice but to obey Jo. Very reluctantly, they ripped the badges off their armour and one by one slammed them on the table before her.

"Thank you, gentlemen. I have taken an oath not to admit unworthy recruits. However, you have worn these badges for nearly two years and even though you don't deserve them, it still means something to me. I will give you a chance to prove yourselves, if you wish to become real members of my family. If you so desire, I can accept you as recruits. To get your N1 rank you'll have to work for it the usual way, and work harder than any of those guys," she waved at the door and her 450 chosen recruits. "After all, you are criminals and that has consequences. If you decide to accept this offer, you will get the first spots as they become available when my first class starts graduating. Is that something you want to do?"

All three guys defiantly lifted their chins and confirmed. If looks could kill, Jo would be a small pile of ashes right now.

"Very well. I will work out your specialisations with you and send you all the proper filework and a list of required evaluations before you enter my training. For now please follow Hackett back to the shuttle and remove yourselves from my station. Until we meet again, gentlemen."

After the four men left, Joker put a hand on her shoulder. Matty touched the other one. Garrus solemnly nodded, and so did Vega. Jack, Tali and the rest of the Senior Instructors silently showed their agreement with her decision. Each of them believed in the Academy and in the quality of its Agents.

Joker felt the relief in Jo's body when he and other Instructors showed support for her decision. He could see her point, though. Those guys looked menacing, without even a trace of confidence and dignity Vega had obtained during his training. They should consider themselves lucky Jo hadn't killed them on the spot like feral dogs. Giving them a chance to re-enter the Academy was more than generous of her. If he had any say in this, he promised to himself to make sure those three didn't make it past N2.

With this private business finished, the group of the Senior Instructors joined the recruit body in the atrium, where they clustered around the guests, asking a million questions. Jo bee-lined for Agents Sadler and Cooley, who held court together near the middle of the room. Joker followed her and a few recruits immediately vacated a bench for them to sit on. Joker pulled Jo close and their fingers entwined immediately.

"You know, that's never happened before," Alessandra Cooley said, nodding at their joined hands. "Two Agents getting married? Unheard of."

"Is that really true?" Jo leaned even closer to Joker. "Don't tell me that no two Agents have ever fallen in love."

"Well, that happened," Theo Sadler grinned. "Boy, did it happen. But it was forbidden by a very strict law to act on those feelings. If you were compromised, you got instantly transferred to another planet. But then again, many rules have been broken in this latest war, as you well know." The man clearly had guessed what happened with the three mercs earlier and approved.

"Do you think the rule was bent just for me?" Jo still sounded worried.

"Sure. And it was worth it," Alessandra smiled, which made her wrinkled face even more wrinkled. "Benny was pleased that you both had the foresight to resign from the Systems Alliance before you acted on your feelings, of course, but in light of your work and achievements he felt that a relationship like yours would be paramount to keeping you sane."

Joker let the information roll through his mind, and instantly felt Jo's tension when she caught the weirdest part of the little speech.

"Who is Benny?" She asked. The recruits around them followed the conversation like the world finale of biotiball.

Both Cooley and Sadler cackled:

"Benedict Kawil," Alessandra winked at her listeners. "Though you knew him under many, many different... names."

"Mr. Z!" Jo exclaimed. "That's his real name?!"

"Oh, yeah. When he became the Papa, he made himself mysterious, but to us he was always just Benny. He graduated from the Academy the year it became official, you know. By that time we were already old Agents. But then he removed himself from all records, became invisible. I believe your generation called him just that: the invisible leader?" Sadler winked at her.

"Geez, this takes so much away from the mystery!" Jo laughed. Joker, who'd had no contact whatsoever with Mr. Z a.k.a. Invisible Leader a.k.a. Benedict Kawil, couldn't quite relate to her fascination, but he realised she'd gone through her training with these legendary figures as her role models. They were her heroes, and Mr. Z had been like a father figure to her. His approval had meant everything to her at the time. Joker was glad now that these old agents came here to talk to her, that they shared information which turned Mr. Z into Benny, made him human, accessible and real, instead of a god-like presence she was used to. Maybe after learning of her predecessor's humanity she would feel more confident in her own ability to lead this Academy.

Edgard Vu joined their circle and nudged Theo and Alessandra:

"Talking about Benny?" He laughed. "He was in my year, you know, but not on my team. We only heard rumours that his team went through the training faster than most because of him. He whipped them all into shape and that was one of the very few teams in the Academy's history that never lost a member until they graduated."

"All twelve of them became N7s?" Jo's eyebrows jumped up.

"No, only two of them. But the others all reached N6."

"Wow," she whistled, and Joker agreed with her assessment. Two N7s and ten N6s in one single team of twelve recruits was against all odds. "He must have been a great leader and teacher even when he was a recruit himself."

"Or did you think he became the leader of the Academy for no reason?"

Jo gripped Joker's hand tighter and gently nuzzled his shoulder.

"Those are the kind of stories that are mostly lost now," she said sadly. "The Archives are still there, but they don't do justice to people who had been there, seen it happen. I have 450 recruits to build a future with, but the past is all but gone... Hardly anyone even knows who Mr. Z was anymore, let alone met him." From the hitch of her voice Joker could tell that she was near tears. She could cry over anything lately, and even though she had a very good reason for being emotional, he was sure she wouldn't want these people to see her that way.

"So, guys, how was your training at the Academy different from what we do here now?" He asked the elderly Agents in order to distract them from Jo.

Sadler started explaining the very beginnings of the ICA, back before the Mars archives had been officially found. Vu and Cooley joined in with details of their own experiences. The recruits around them ate up the information. Joker placed his arm on the back of Jo's chair and she gratefully leaned into him. Her finger traced on his palm: I love you.

The air itself was different the next day. The guests had stayed over night and their whole visit turned into one big bonding ritual, giving the new recruits a chance to connect with the Academy's history and to truly feel the spirit of being one family. The guests were told in great detail about the new training and five of them requested entrance to some of the courses in order to get a higher N rank than the one they already had.

Others, including Hackett, reported to Jo about their current missions and received an update or a go-ahead for something new. Cooley, Vu and Sadler offered their services, but Jo insisted that they had done far more than their share for the Academy, for the galaxy and for the cause. They deserved their well-earned freedom. Therefore she released them from active duty once more and advised them to enjoy their retirement.

When the guests finally left the station, Joker's class gave them an honorary escort to the planet's gigantic dock to catch their flights to wherever they were going. In the meantime Joker found Jo standing in the atrium, pensively looking around.

"We should decorate this place," she said when he hugged her from behind. "I'm thinking we could bring in trees from all the homeworlds, create a garden that would symbolise the galactic unity. And there, at the side," she pointed to where the windows met the floor. "We could set up a fountain and place the memorial wall from the Normandy. I think this is the best place for it. And..." She hesitated. Joker turned her around to see her face.

"And what?"

"I have an idea for a piece of art I'd like to put up here as well, but I'm not sure what you'll say."

"Why would my opinion matter more than that of others?"

"Because you'll be the only one to know what it really means. I want to commission a statue or a relief of... Lady Justice. You know, as in Justice."

Joker frowned.

"You mean it would look like the real thing?" They both avoided calling Justine by name where Dex or the recruits could overhear them, but they both knew whom they were talking about.

"Yeah. The recruits should always remember that we strive to judge fairly and to respect the balance of the world. They should remember that other people ask us to decide for them what's right and what's wrong. Lady Justice is a fine symbol. But I... I just want her to be here. We don't know what's going to happen, maybe she'll stay and be a part of our life, maybe she goes away never to be seen again. I want her image to stay, even if only as a work of art. I'm proud of her and I believe that Lady Justice will be true to her name, but I also need... to do right by her. After everything she's been through, I want her to be acknowledged. Even if she won't want to reveal herself to the public for who she really is, I want there to be at least one clue that she exists. That I'm aware of her and that I accept her."

"Well, if you put it that way," Joker nuzzled her neck. "It sounds like it's as much for you as it is for her. You have my blessing."

"Thank you," Jo drew in a shuddering breath. "Really, thank you."

Jo's class later that afternoon was still buzzing about their guests. It took her a while to get them back to the topic they were supposed to be discussing.

"How do you make sure to always win?" She asked of them. That got them back into their seats.

"Be better prepared?"

"Do whatever it takes?"

"Not be afraid to die?"

"Well," Jo sat on the edge of her desk and folded her arms on her belly. "What does it mean to you guys to 'do whatever it takes'?"

"Give 200%," someone suggested.

Jo shook her head. The recruits paused and thought harder. Then one krogan sniggered just like Grunt:

"Fight dirty?"

"And how would you describe the principle of fighting dirty?" Jo smiled back as wickedly as the recruit.

Encouraged, the others started throwing in suggestions:

"Use all the weakest spots?"

"A surprise attack?"

"Hide weapons?"

"Go for the balls?"

"Play unfair?"

Jo stopped them by raising a hand.

"Dex," she asked. "Give me Indiana Jones, please."

The screen behind her lit up and showed a crowd parting before the iconic archaeologist, revealing his newest attacker: a strong man wielding a gigantic scimitar. While the swordsman still posed, Indy took out his gun and shot the guy.

The recruits gave the scene its due appreciation, but Jo demanded from them to sum up the essence of the lesson this episode taught them.

"Bring guns to the swordfight?" A turian suggested.

"I have a feeling you guys are being dense on purpose," Jo rolled her eyes. "Write this down and remember it forever: you make sure you win by fighting dirty. You fight dirty by inflicting the most damage in the shortest time possible. While doing that you also make sure to receive as little damage as possible. Translated into practical advice this means: never play the game your opponent plays. Following rules is absolutely forbidden. You make your own. If you can, kill your opponent before they have a chance to kill you. Meaning: stab them in the back or smother them in their sleep. If you can, kill your opponent from distance, before they reach you. Meaning, yes, bring a gun to a swordfight. Use frag grenades. If your opponent is on the ground, you never wait for them to get up and continue fighting - you kill them while they're helpless. If your opponent is about to escape, you don't let them go out of mercy, but we'll talk about mercy in a separate session soon. If your opponent is verbally surrendering to you, you neutralise them anyway. If you need your opponent alive for whatever reason, you shoot them in the leg to make sure they don't run away. If that doesn't stop them from trying to kill you, then you also shoot them in both arms. If all you need from them is information, they don't need their extremities anymore."

Jo saw several frowns from the more gentle souls, those who chose Leadership but avoided the physical specialisations, but many were starting to see her point. As usual, the krogans were more receptive to this moral code than the turians and the salarians.

"Always go for the kill. You can always stop right before the final blow, but you're not dancing or playing, you're fighting. Always carry hidden weapons, preferably something unusual, something they won't see coming. Go for the spots that hurt the worst. Keep yourself safe, even if it means hiding like a coward or jumping into a hole filled with faeces. When your opponent starts talking, like many bad guys are prone to, you don't wait for them to finish, you kill them while they're distracted. Don't be afraid to cause permanent damage: pluck out their eyes, bite off their fingers, shoot off their ears. Am I making myself clear?"

"Commander, have you ever bitten someone's finger off?" A turian girl spoke up.

"Yes, and I was only nine years old at the time. The boy was six years older than me. He got the finger to an emergency clinic and they sewed it back on, so that he could almost use it, but he never came near me again."

Someone swallowed audibly.

"Effective," the girl who asked the question reluctantly conceded.

"That's what I'm trying to teach you, guys. The effective way to win. Not the flashy way, not the heroic way, not the fair way, but the most effective. I care about you and want you to stay alive. When it comes to a choice between you and your future opponents, I want you to win."

"Commander," a salarian girl said. "Just how dirty do I have to fight to win against a krogan battlemaster?"

"First of all, I hope all of you realise that I'm not only talking about an actual fight. All these guidelines are just as applicable to politics and diplomacy. Second, Recruit Saeris raises a good question. How many salarians see themselves win in a hand-to-hand fight against a krogan?"

The krogans grinned at the salarians, who suddenly looked like they wished to be on the other side of the room right now.

"Dex, a Phantom, please," Jo asked of her trusty assistant. "This is footage taken by my own helmet camera," she explained. The screen showed some erratic movement as Jo and her team worked their way through Cerberus forces on the Citadel. In a quiet moment Jo turned a corner and suddenly almost got herself gutted by a tiny, sword-wielding figure. "That fucker is clearly a small, skinny girl. I've seen more like her slicing their victims to tiny pieces, krogans, turians and batarians alike. That little figure is one of the most dangerous opponents I've ever had to fight. You can disregard the part where she is full of Reaper tech. You don't have to let that happen to you to be as deadly. Instead study their style and tactics. There are thousands of recordings made during the war for you to learn from. If you need help with the analysis, ask your fellows who specialise in Battle or Survival. You can even go straight to your instructors. It would make me really happy if at least one or two of the resident salarians learned how to fight Phantom style and showed some cocky krogans the error of their ways."

When she finally dismissed the class, they left the room talking among themselves in hushed tones. They were overwhelmed, slightly confused, deeply challenged in their beliefs and world views. Job well done, she said to herself, grinning and rubbing her round belly under the blouse and skirt she wore.