Chapter Twenty-Five
Queen Takes Pawn

Omega, Sahrabarik

[Agent309: Internal Alliance reports confirm that humanity's departure from the Council is imminent. Kessler will deliver a simultaneous QEC broadcast within a matter of hours. Awaiting further instruction.]

Liara let out the breath she had been holding as she read the brief message through a second time. The additional information that she desperately wanted never materialised. She was left to read into the scant words all the turmoil that they heralded. The signs had been evident for weeks, months really, but for humanity's cession from the Council to be laid out in stark facts in front of her was an entirely different matter.

Liara was surprised to have an immediate emotional reaction to the news. Her affiliation with the Alliance had only ever been tenuous at best, the human government even less so, but she had fought and bled alongside humans throughout the Reaper War. Her relationship with Shepard would ensure that she would remain tied to humanity, regardless of the coming events.

In terms of her own race, Liara felt nothing other than a disconnection and a vague sense of guilt. She had done what she could for the asari but internal politics and millennia of ingrained conventions were difficult to influence. There had been an invitation from Tevos to return to Thessia to a position of responsibility, but it was one that she did not feel she could accept. In the eyes of her people she had done nothing to earn such a position. The T'Soni estate would remain abandoned, falling into disrepair, for the foreseeable future. It would remain neglected, possibly for the rest of her life.

Thoughts continued to race through her mind even as she tried to concentrate on forming the Shadow Broker's response. Above everything, her chief concern was to actively work to prevent another war. She lost all sense of time as she frantically worked to put responses in place before the news was broadcast, before it could filter out around the Galaxy. Liara could only hope that there would not be a destructive chain reaction amongst the remaining Council races.

Only when her head felt as though it would split apart, did Liara stop her work. She left the feeds cycling through announcements from information agencies throughout the galaxy and went to find one person that she knew would be entirely uninformed.

Oddly enough she found Shepard sitting on the floor in front of the door, tugging her boots on. Her bondmate glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps and flashed the entirely unconcerned grin that Liara had anticipated. Since arriving on Omega, Shepard had gone out of her way to avoid hearing about the outside world. In many ways Liara envied her bondmate.

"Just on my way out. I told Myke I'd help out at Prax's clinic for a few hours. Apparently there's been an outbreak of simian bacterial flu in the market district." She looked up in time to catch the immediate panicked expression on Liara's face. "Don't look so worried, I've already had it so I'm immune."

"You did? When?" Liara asked as she crossed to Shepard's side. Without being asked she hunkered down and took over fastening up Shepard's boots with quick, practised movements.

"During a visit to London, about six years ago," Shepard admitted. "I was fresh off a six-month tour in the Traverse and looking forward to seeing the sights. Spent the whole time with my head in the toilet or my arse-"

"You don't need to finish that sentence!" Liara interrupted with a wince.

Her mild irritation passed as soon as she caught a glimpse of the laughter in Shepard's eyes. For a few moments Liara completely forgot what was happening on Earth. She lost herself in the contended expression on her bondmate's face. Although there had not yet been a follow up to their love-making of the previous day, they had spent a contented night wrapped in each other's arms. Only the urgent report pinging through to her omni tool had prevented a morning of wanton indulgence. Liara suddenly found herself cursing the Alliance and the outbreak of simian bacterial flu in one thought.

"Can I have my boot back, Li?" Shepard asked in a soft voice.

"Oh," Liara murmured, only just realising that she had paused in the midst of her task. She strapped the last boot securely and patted Shepard on the knee. "Good to go."

Shepard cocked her head to one side. "You seem kind of distracted. Is there something on your mind?"

Liara shook her head. She could already predict Shepard's heated anger in response to the announcement, but knew that it would be unproductive at best and a hindrance at worst. She decided to let her bondmate have her fun cleaning up the bodily expulsions of those infected. Politics could come later.

"No, although I would like to speak with you when you return if possible," Liara suggested, hoping that her concern did not manifest too blatantly in her voice.

Shepard swooped without warning. She gathered Liara in her arms and drew her down onto the floor. Liara could not stop the undignified yelp that emerged from her lips. However it was silenced a second later by the kiss that followed. It was impossible to protest further or do anything other than respond with equal enthusiasm. She eventually ended up on her back as Shepard straddled her.

"That has to be the politest invitation I've ever had," Shepard commented. Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask."

The soldier's tone was so deliciously rapacious that Liara almost forgot the real reason behind her request. She lost herself again in the simple sight of Shepard, as relaxed and happy as she had ever known her. It was almost like falling in love all over again.

"I would like that very much." Liara nodded and earned herself a delighted smile.

"Always so damn polite, T'Soni," Shepard replied. She eased herself up into a crouch before helping Liara up. They stood in tandem, but remained in each other's arms. Shepard tucked her chin into the crook of Liara's neck. "I love this," she whispered in an excited voice. "Is it wrong to be so happy?"

"No one deserves it more," Liara replied emphatically. The Galaxy may have been on the verge of falling to pieces, but she desperately wanted Shepard to have these few moments. She held Shepard at arm's length. "Although if you come back vomiting, then you are very much on your own."

"C'mon, I'm so cute when I'm sick," Shepard protested.

Liara frowned. "Based on all those times you frequented the Normandy's medbay, I'm quite sure that you are not."

Shepard pouted for a moment. "I'd invite you to come, but it's not exactly a fun outing."

"As much as I admire your civic spirit, I have work-"

"I got that, Li. I'll call if I'm going to be late."

Shepard deposited a lightning fast kiss on her lips before making her exit. Liara wanted only until the door slid back into pace before heading back to her office. She took the stairs two at a time in her haste.


The familiar smell of disinfectant and anaesthetic assaulted Shepard's sense of smell when she entered Prax's clinic. This time however it was almost overwhelmed by the nauseating stench of vomit and shit. Shepard narrowly avoided adding to the aroma herself as she fought to keep her stomach contents down. The clinic's tiny waiting room was heaving with what appeared to be Omega's entire population of humans. There was no sign of Myke.

A female turian moved amongst the patients, methodically checking symptoms and handing out small bottles of fluid. She spied Shepard and her face twisted into an angry snarl. "You want to get sick too, human?"

"I'm here to help, Prax is expecting me," Shepard replied.

The Turian grunted in surprise. She stared at Shepard with her unreadable expression for several moments before she jerked her head in the direction of the back room. Shepard apologetically pushed her way through the throng to find a harassed looking Prax in the midst of administering an injection to a skinny, scared human boy who was whimpering softly.

Prax gave her a cursory glance when she rapped her knuckles on the door frame to alert him to her presence. He grunted irritably. "Took your sweet time. Where's the asari?"

"Myke isn't here yet?" Shepard frowned. "I haven't seen her. We were supposed to meet here."

"Okay, okay, spare me the whole damn life-story," Prax snapped. "Get over here and hold this kid down."

Shepard was no stranger to battlefield wounds, but by some fate she had been spared being a direct witness to children in pain. The boy was ten at the most. He was desperately trying to hold back the tears as Prax smeared a tiny dose of medi-gel around a lozenge shaped pustule on his stomach. The grotesque protrusion was almost as big as Shepard's fist and filled with mustard coloured pus. Shepard definitely did not remember having such symptoms during her own bout of the flu.

"Shouldn't I wash my hands or something?" Shepard protested.

He gave her a deadpan glare in response as if to ask if she was serious. Apparently the smells of disinfectant were purely for show. The kid's skin was clammy and hot to the touch as she leaned in to place her hands on his shoulders. Shepard remembered that symptom well.

"One of the worst cases I've seen. Should never have got this bad," he growled angrily as he lowered a scalpel towards the boy's stomach. "By the spirits, hold on tight, human."

Although Shepard's first instinct was to ask why the hell he was doing something as painful as lancing the pustule, she thought better of questioning Prax in front of his patient. She knew that the meagre application of medi-gel had only been enough to dull the pain. Instead she focused on the struggling boy's face, keeping her eyes locked with his. As well as possessing a pallor that was only a few shades from being pure white, his hair was blond and his eyes could barely be considered grey. Tears mingled with the sweat coating his cheeks.

"Hey, kiddo, what's your name?" she asked.

"Yuri," he hissed through gritted teeth.

Shepard had little experience with children. Her memories of being one herself were of little use. Hannah Shepard had favoured a decidedly 'hands off' approach to child rearing. Affection had always been sparse, if not absent entirely. She instinctively reached out toward the boy, but hesitated before she smoothed a lank clump of hair out of his eyes.

"Um…nice to meet you, Yuri, I'm Evan," Shepard replied, unable to shake the feeling that she sounded condescending and stupid. She felt his body shudder beneath her grip. Judging from the almost inaudible, vile sounds she was hearing, Prax had started cutting. She could not bring herself to look.

"Evan's...a boy's name," Yuri eventually scoffed quietly.

"Who says it has to be?" Shepard pointed out. "Besides, if your mother called you Evangeline you'd want to shorten it too."

The kid obviously wanted to laugh, but managed only a pained grimace. "Yeah...I would."

"Where are your parents?" Shepard made the mistake of looking down. Prax was just removing a small bowl filled with a thick mucus.

"Dunno," was Yuri's unconcerned reply. "They both buggered off when I was a lil'un. Only got an older brother. He works all hours on the docks. He's trying to save enough to buy us a way out of here." His breathing came a little easier now that Prax had finished, but sweat drenched his pale body. His pale grey eyes regarded her with a sudden curiosity. "You don't look like you belong on Omega. Why are you here?"

"There are people looking for me," Shepard replied honestly. "Omega is a good hiding place."

Yuri demonstrated his Omegan heritage when he accepted her explanation without further questioning. Omega was a good place for hiding, and a hell of a lot of people used it as such. "I wanna go somewhere where they have trees. Ever seen a real tree, Evan?"

Shepard smiled. "Yeah, a few. They're-" she searched for some enthusiasm "-nice and green I suppose."

His eyes were half-lidded. "I read that people can climb 'em. Did you ever? Climb one I mean?"

She shook her head, smoothed his forehead again as he grew drowsy. "I grew up in space, on ships and stations. There were always these tiny little things dotted around the plazas but you were only allowed to look at them. Someone probably would have locked you up if you tried to climb one." Shepard had to admit that the thought had never occurred to her. By the time she came to spending any decent amount of time groundside, she had been too old to consider climbing a tree for fun.

"Hey, we're done here," Prax interrupted her conversation. "Unless you wanna stand around and talk about trees some more? Myke still hasn't shown though, so I'd prefer you hauled your ass."

Shepard responded with a curt nod. She briefly turned her attention back to Yuri. By now his eyes were fully closed and his lips were parted open to allow for the deep breaths of sleep. The wound on his stomach had been dressed. Raised goose flesh dotted his pale skin. Without a word, she stripped off her jacket and gently laid it atop him. Yuri didn't stir and she turned to follow Prax.

There was the brief thought of pinging Myke's omni-tool, but it was lost as soon as she was swamped with demands for help.


Mindoir, Attican traverse

Miranda Lawson absently trailed a hand along her naked flank. It was pointless for her to admire her already perfect proportions but she wanted to present an inviting image. She lifted one knee and spread her legs slightly. Her touch moved to the inside of her thigh. The pads of her fingers caused a faint tingle as they passed, but her own touch was a pale comparison to that of her lover's.

A few moments later she exhaled a short, impatient burst of air. Miranda rolled over, ruining her carefully arranged pose. She turned to face the open door on the other side of the bed. From her reclining position all she could see was a shadow moving.

"How much longer are you planning on keeping a naked woman waiting in your bed?" Frustration crept into her tone. The combination of anticipation and her own wandering hands meant that she was already painfully aroused. "Any longer and I'm starting without you."

"This is ridiculous, M," was the irritated reply. There was a pause. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

Miranda shook her head softly in amusement. "Come here and I'll show you."

Ashley emerged from the bathroom a few moments later. Miranda's gaze flickered from the sheepish expression her lover wore on her face to what she was wearing below her waist. Subconsciously she found herself licking her lips as she studied the cock jutting out from Ash's body. It was thick and long. Miranda could anticipate it filling her completely. Thin leather straps would keep the dildo snugly in place as Ash fucked her. Despite the marine's embarrassment, Miranda found the sight of her lover strapped up and the accompanying anticipation a huge turn on. Her core pulsed impatiently.

"You look good, Williams," she murmured.

"Honestly?" Ash asked uncertainly. She reached down and grasped the cock as though measuring its girth for the first time. "What if I'm crap?"

Miranda was honestly just enjoying the sight of Ashley touching herself. It was difficult for her to think clearly or say anything that wasn't fervent encouragement. "It'll come to you."

"But how should I…what position…" Ash winced as she struggled for the right words. "I don't know how this works-" Her cheeks flooded with colour. "I mean, I know how this works of course, but not from this end."

"There's absolutely no need to make things complicated," Miranda said softly. She sat up and held out her hand. "Come here."

Her lover crossed the short distance to the bed. The cock swayed invitingly as she walked. By the time Ashley knelt on the bed and reached for her hand, Miranda was having difficulty restraining herself. Every instinct was screaming at her to yank the marine toward her in a lustful frenzy. Instead she forced herself to do everything at half speed. She caressed Ash's hand with the pad of her thumb. Ash moved forward on her knees until she was positioned between Miranda's thighs. Miranda drew her down for a heated kiss to which the other woman responded eagerly, forgetting her earlier embarrassment. Whilst their lips danced, Miranda wrapped a fist around Ashley's shaft, stroking the cock as though it were real.

Ashley drew back so she could watch. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You know, that's kind of hot."

Miranda grinned as she placed her hands on Ashley's hips and tugged her down. The brunette let out a yelp as she flopped forward, only just managing to place her hands out in time to catch herself. She found herself poised above Miranda with the cock nestled at the apex of her legs. Miranda could feel its hardness pressed against her. Her hips undulated wantonly as she created some of the friction she craved.

She'd waited long enough. "Fuck me…please."

"Are you sure you're ready?" Ash whispered hesitantly.

"Trust me," Miranda replied in a husky voice. She propped herself up so she could reach down and to guide Ash's cock toward her eager opening. A delighted hum escaped her throat as she felt the bulbous tip press against her. Emboldened, Ash gently thrust her hips forward. "Perfect, Ash," she murmured as the cock slowly began to fill her. "Just perfect. Now…more."

A relentless, impatient hammering suddenly and cruelly ripped Miranda out of her haze of pleasure. Despite the lingering vestiges of arousal, the glorious images in her mind and an overall contended feeling of warmth, she knew that she was in her quarters on Mindoir. Her response was to plunge her head beneath the pillow in an effort to block the sound out. Miranda rarely lingered in bed, but it was imperative that she somehow returned to that particular dream, at that precise moment. However the pounding merely increased in tempo, making returning to sleep impossible.

The expression on her face was apoplectic when she opened the door to find Private Parker with his hand raised in the process of knocking again. His usually swarthy features blanched instantly when he saw the expression on her face.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger!" Parker pre-empted any potential violence by holding up his hands in surrender. "Or throw one of your little balls at me, whatever you biotics do to people who piss you off."

Parker's wandering gaze reminded Miranda that she was clad in just a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Thankfully the intensification of her glare drove him to look at his feet instead. "If you get to the point I might think about not tearing you apart with a warp field."

"There's a broadcast from Fleet Admiral Kessler in a few minutes. Scuttlebutt is saying it's something big, I thought you might want to hear it first-hand." Parker met her stare with a quick, hopeful glance. "Or are you still really pissed?"

"I'm still really pissed, Parker," Miranda replied, making a concerted effort to sound less angry. "But thank you. I'll be there."

Parker nodded. He paused before leaving. "I interrupted a good dream didn't I?"

"Bugger off, Parker!" Miranda's anger flooded back in an instant. She slammed the door in the Private's face to hide the potential hues of embarrassment that flooded her cheeks. She did not even want to contemplate the possibility that Parker had overheard any noises she might have been making in her sleep.

Hastily dressed, Miranda assembled in the mess a few minutes later just as the announcement was beginning. Although she had not had the privilege of meeting Kessler, she had heard from Ash and others that he was a narcissistic asshole. She also guessed as much from the grainy image that appeared on the wall-screen. Despite the fact the room probably held almost fifty marines, the atmosphere was strangely subdued as everyone struggled to hear.

{My fellow citizens, today marks the next step in humanity's galactic history. In the wake of our glorious, trailblazing forebears, we are about to write the next chapter in our destiny by forging a new path toward greatness-}

"What shite is this chump spouting?" one marine piped up.

He was quickly hushed, but Miranda could see either derision or confusion on the faces of those around her. She herself had a distinct prickling sensation nagging at the back of her neck. It was an uneasiness brought about by Kessler's choice of language and her own knowledge of the direction of Alliance politics.

{-for ourselves. As of eleven hundred hours today, humanity will no longer be a part of the Galactic Council. This includes relinquishing our right to a seat on the Council.} Fervent applause could clearly be heard on the audio feed. Most of those in the room were merely stunned, whispering amongst their buddies. {As a consequence, we will no longer be subject to Council rulings, treaties, or sanctions. This is a proactive move on humanity's part with the aim of cutting ourselves free from the Council's apron strings. Too long have we been stifled and subject to the whims of others. The Systems Alliance will stand apart…and we will be strong.}

Kessler continued to speak, but by that point most of the room had descended into a chaotic stream of voices. Only those intent on hearing every word crowded close to the screen. Miranda had already heard enough. She caught additional comments stressing that the other races were not suddenly to be viewed as enemies. Her responding thoughts were cynical to say the least.

Sure, they're just no longer friends, Miranda thought. Although nothing had changed regarding her belief in the continued advancement of humanity, she had since come to accept that allies were a necessary condition of success and prosperity. Cerberus's all-consuming pursuit of their goal had led to their ruin in fire and flame. Whatever the Alliance's ultimate goal, Miranda suspected that it would end in exactly the same manner. She wouldn't have cared but for the fact that it would take her and everyone she loved down with it.

"Yippee-kay-yay," Jack suddenly spoke up from just behind her shoulder. Her tone was decidedly sarcastic. "Looks like Cerberus won after all."

Incensed, Miranda turned to respond with a curt rebuttal. The Captain was already making her way out of the room. Miranda tried to find a place of calm. Her conversation with Ashley still brought a smile to her face and tears to her eyes. She had to remind herself that she had Jack to thank for it. Her reluctance to willingly converse with the ex-convict meant that she did not catch up to Jack until they were half way across the parade ground.

"Jack…can I have a word?" Miranda hated the submissive tone in her voice.

"I know what you're going to say, Cheerleader," Jack called over her shoulder. "And there's no need, trust me."

"Is it too difficult for you to listen to gratitude?" Miranda was angry that her magnanimity had been thrown back in her face so callously.

Her anger morphed into curiosity as Jack stopped dead in her tracks. She had hit a nerve. When Jack turned, her trademark scowl progressed to another level. While Miranda had no desire for a rematch, she considered it a small victory that Jack was struggling to restrain her temper.

The petite biotic stamped forward dramatically. "I got no one to call, costs me nothing to give away shit I don't give a fuck about. You think I did it 'cos it's you? Most of these grunts have got family some place else – Moms, brothers, casual fucks…hell, Finch calls his fucking dog."

"You had to contact the Normandy to set that call up," Miranda replied calmly. It wasn't her intention to push Jack's buttons, but she derived a perverse sense of pleasure in watching the play of emotions on the Captain's face.

Jack's entire face was pinched and taut, reflecting her internal struggle for control. When her throat worked in a swallowing action, it was her pride she swallowed. "Might've done," she mumbled petulantly.

A triumphant grin creased Miranda's face. However it was wiped almost immediately when she saw Jack's eyes narrow roguishly. Walk away, Lawson. Walk away very, very quickly.

"Williams, huh?" Miranda did not respond. Jack chuckled as though sharing a private joke with herself. "Have to admit, I'm kinda surprised."

Miranda glared at her nemesis. Part of her knew she would regret taking the bait, but her curiosity beat common-sense into submission. "Why? Do you think me incapable of forming meaningful relationships?"

"Fuck yes, but this has nothing to do with you being a genetically engineered ice queen," Jack replied while Miranda snorted in disgust. "When I met Williams she was the perfect Alliance marine - straight-laced, straight-talking, and she fucking hated Cerberus. So I'm kinda surprised to find that she's bumping uglies with one of their Operatives."

"Ex-Operative," Miranda stressed in a tight voice. "Unlike you, Ashley accepts that I am no longer with Cerberus. It's a non-issue between us."

"Heh, whatever." Jack shrugged dismissively. "Guess you and I won't be indulging in rage-fuelled hate-sex anytime soon."

Miranda blinked. Did she just say-? "I beg your pardon?"

"C'mon, cheerleader. All this tension between us? It's clearly sexual." Miranda continued to stare in bewilderment at the petite biotic. Jack's grin widened. "If Shepard hadn't walked in on us when we were tearing up the sub-decks, we would've eventually got to tearing each other's clothes off."

"What? You're an aggravating little freak!" Miranda snapped. "I would sooner have had sex with Grunt!"

"I think that could've been arranged," Jack replied in a deadpan, unconcerned by Miranda's anger. "Still, all that passion, I've gotta say that Williams is a lucky woman. I hope she appreciates your tits."

"Is this…is this conversation actually happening?" Miranda eventually asked in disbelief. She remained still for a few moments before she finally grew unnerved by remaining in Jack's leering presence. She stabbed her finger in Jack's direction. "Keep your eyes off my fucking chest, Jack or-"

Jack cocked her head to one side. "Or you'll what? Try and use your piss-poor excuse for biotics on me again? C'mon, you telegraph your moves. I've got time to scratch my ass before you throw an attack. I blame it on the bloody asari, thousands of years of swanning around thinking they're the bloody biotic queens. You need to unleash with some fucking conviction. Fight like a dog instead of a fucking cheerleader."

"You honestly think I would take advice from you?" Miranda said as she started walking toward the barracks. Jack followed her like a predator that smelled blood.

"You wanna be friends, Cheerleader? Well that's friendly advice you can take or leave. Suits me if you wanna get your bubbly butt kicked over and over, but I kinda liked Williams and I don't want you to slumming it in this shithole forever either. It's my shithole. I'd rather you were someplace else."

Miranda paused. "I telegraph my moves?"

"Like a fucking cheerleader," Jack agreed.

The Alliance marine folded her arms across her chest. Despite her intellect being a great deal superior to Jack's (whom she regarded as only a few steps above a cretin), she always felt as though she was the one coming off second best in their conversations. She continuously took the bait, sinking to Jack's level and engaging with her in petty, name-calling games. Still, there was a hint of an offer in the ex-convict's comments. The only difficulty lay in the actual asking. It was going to be painful.

"My tutor was an asari, Ikaria Kato. She hated humans." Miranda realised she had not thought of the asari for some time, nor did she know her eventual fate. The thought was brief. There was no point reflecting on the past, especially not in the company of someone who didn't give a fuck. She needed to concentrate on the present and her eventual future with Ashley. Both of those were conditional on the fact that she lived through the post-war turmoil. Miranda reasoned that she needed to learn as many of Jack's dirty tricks as she could – at least the ones involving biotic combat. "I've probably picked up a lifetime of bad habits. I could do with a few pointers."

Jack's answering grin was triumphant. "Why the hell not?"

Miranda knew exactly what the gleam in Jack's eyes meant. "This is not an invitation to spar!"


SSV Normandy SR-2

It was difficult for Sam Traynor to feel anything other than deflated as she listened to the tail end of Fleet Admiral Kessler's message. Although Sam was no expert in intergalactic politics, she knew that the announcement would not sit well with the remaining Council races. It would also expose humanity to those non-Council races looking to exploit the post-war environment. Whatever the outcome, she suspected the situation would deteriorate, possibly even lead to war. As adept as she was with an assault rifle, Sam had no desire to see further large-scale conflict. She already had enough nightmares to last a lifetime.

"Chief?"

Yeoman Clayton had to speak to her three times before she finally looked up from the console. When she turned to face him she was unable to summon anything other than a bland stare. "I've got your parents via QEC."

Even that particular announcement failed to stir any excitement. "I'm really busy right now-"

"It'll be the last chance you have to speak with them before entering the Terminus Systems, ma'am," Clayton reminded her. "You want to take this call. Shall I patch it through to your terminal?"

Sam acquiesced. A few moments later the grinning faces of Nick and Radha Traynor appeared on the small screen in front of her. Radha's dark face and black hair bundled into a loose bun took up most of the screen. Nick had been relegated to the back. Sam could see little other than bright eyes and his thin, sandy hair as he stood patiently and allowed his wife prime position in front of their console.

Upon seeing their faces Sam did not know how she could have ever been too busy for them. Both looked a little more like their old selves, their faces had filled out as they put Horizon behind them. However she knew that nothing would take away the additional lines on their faces or grey hairs at their temples.

"Hey, Mum…Dad." Sam even managed to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. Her smile was a little wobbly.

"How's my munchkin?" Nick peered over his wife's shoulder.

"Dad!" She suddenly wished that she had taken the call somewhere more private. However the CIC was largely empty save for Clayton and a few other bridge officers at their stations. Thankfully it appeared as though 'munchkin' appeared to have gone unnoticed. "I'm okay I guess."

"You don't look okay, you look tired," Radha said matter-of-factly, pursing her lips in disapproval as she scrutinised her daughter. "Have you been eating enough?"

"Stop chiding her, she looks fine," Nick added. "You'd tell us if you weren't fine wouldn't you, Sammy?"

Not in a million years, Sam thought, trying to keep her expression neutral. She fought the urge to tell her Dad that 'Sammy' wasn't acceptable either. "You know I would."

"Well I think she looks tired," Radha repeated stubbornly.

I can't get anything past you, Mum. "My shift is almost done, then it's a meal and bed," Sam promised. "I'm far more interested in hearing how the two of you are settling into your new house."

"House?" Radha scoffed. "I wouldn't exactly call it a house. A shoebox would be a more apt description."

"Our house is fine," Nick added diplomatically. "There's plenty of space for the two of us. Besides, it's not like we have much in the way of possessions. "

"I suppose," was the agreeing reply. Radha's face then brightened. "And we have lovely neighbours. You forgot to mention the neighbours, Nick!"

Nick rolled his eyes. "I hadn't forgotten, it just hasn't come up yet."

Radha nudged him impatiently. "So, it's important. They know Sammy."

Sam sighed. Her parents would probably still be calling her 'Sammy' and 'munchkin' when she was fifty. "They know me? From the news perhaps?" Sam suggested. It was highly unlikely. She had avoided direct interviews. Few people cared about a comms officer, even one that served on the famous Normandy. That was exactly the way Sam liked it.

"Nope." Nick shook his head. "Lucy Park, a bona fide war hero herself. She and her wife Susannah live in the house next door."

This time Sam could not keep her expression neutral. Her jaw dropped at the unlikely coincidence. In fact, she was certain that it was not a coincidence. She distinctly remembered the mentions of 'protection' in Ashley's emails. Was Lucy and Susannah's presence part of that? It was difficult for Sam to imagine tiny Lucy Park protecting much of anything, but she trusted the young woman based on their short time together. Still, it did not help to be reminded of their almost romance.

"She speaks very highly of you," Nick continued. He'd managed to push his way forward and gain more of a presence on the screen. "Said you'd saved her life."

"I had nothing to do with it," Sam replied honestly. "She saved herself, we simply picked her up." Those heady moments hovering next to the apex of the Crucible were lodged in her mind. She remembered the heart stopping seconds looking down at the ground hundreds of metres below and the warmth of Park's body pressed against her own.

"You're too modest, munchkin," Nick replied.

Beside him, Radha nodded. Sam squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. While she was grateful for the opportunity to speak with her parents and the fact that they were safe, she wanted to steer the conversation in a different direction.

She cleared her throat. "So-"

"And Susannah's lovely," her mother added with a warm smile.

Nick nodded. "Not to mention handy, knows her way around gadgets she does. Sorted out our wallscreen in a couple of minutes."

Yes, she's absolutely bloody perfect, Sam folded her arms across her chest. If the conversation continued in a similar vein for any longer she knew that she was in danger of slipping out a smart arsed remark. She prepared herself for the inevitable comments to follow about finding herself a nice girl like Susannah.

"You are looking after yourself aren't you?" Radha suddenly asked. "Your father and I worry about you."

Sam paused at the unexpected direction of the conversation. She had expected the 'girlfriend talk', instead her parents were both peering at the screen with matching expressions of concern. Knowing that the Normandy was headed toward the Terminus and not being able to tell her parents was painful but probably for the best.

"I'm fine, seriously," Sam said with a smile. "There's no finer crew in the Galaxy and certainly no finer Captain."

"Ashley Williams was very impressive in person," Nick said.

"Indeed," Radha agreed.

"And slightly intimidating," Nick added with a grin.

"Agreed." Sam and her mother replied in unison.

The three of them shared a quiet laugh. As it faded, Sam suddenly felt very alone despite the fact that her parents were on the screen right in front of her. She checked the time on her chrono. There were still a few minutes remaining yet.

"Do you have a board set up, Dad?"

"You know me, munchkin, always."

"Can you handle a few moves? I'll go easy on you I promise."

"Don't go easy on your old man, Sam. I'm certainly not going to go easy on you."

Radha rolled her eyes. "You two are as bad as each other!"


Captain Ashley Williams could not look Tevos in the eye when the form of the Asari Councillor appeared in Normandy's QEC hub. A myriad of emotions coursed through her body, chief amongst them were anger and frustration. It was all she could do to stifle these and keep them from spilling into her entire demeanour.

As of 1800 hours, a little less than thirty minutes earlier, Ashley's entire, ordered world had been thrown on its head by the announcement that humanity had left the Council. The thought even crossed her mind that she could be committing treason simply by the act of talking to Tevos.

Humanity's move had massive potential repercussions for their race as a whole, but for Ash it hit on a far more personal level. Unlike Shepard's milestone appointment as first human SpecTRe, her own had come with no fanfare. Udina's recommendation and the Council's approval had been matter-of-fact and utilitarian to the point where Ashley had often asked herself whether she had earned the position on her own merits. The thought that she had simply been in the right place at the right time had often crossed her mind. It was a thought that lingered longer of late. Whereas Shepard had been an N7, famous as the sole survivor of the Akuze massacre, Ash was simply a solider. She considered herself good at her job, nothing more.

As she smouldered beneath Tevos's gaze, she came to the foregone conclusion that she would be the second and last human SpecTRe. Ash had thought that she would feel a sense of relief at being relieved of the rank, instead she felt only regret that she had not done more.

"Greetings Commander Williams," Tevos eventually said. "It is a regrettable state of affairs in which we find ourselves."

"Captain Williams," Ashley corrected in a terse voice. The rank was unmerited but she felt compelled to maintain the charade, if only to spite Kessler.

"Congratulations on the promotion, Captain. Much deserved I'm sure," Tevos replied. "I would inquire as to the general mood aboard the Normandy, but I suspect that you and your crew are still reeling from the announcement."

"We are. Spare me the pleasantries, I'm not in the mood." Ashley finally lifted her head. She caught a trace of indignation in Tevos's expression, no doubt reacting to the blatant disrespect in her own tone. "The Council doesn't indulge in social calls, cut to the point."

"Your hostility is misplaced-" Tevos began.

"Don't lecture me on hostility, I've got more than enough to go around," Ashley snapped. "Just revoke my SpecTRe status and be done with it."

Tevos's resulting surprise was obvious. "Contrary to your expectation, the purpose of this communication is not to revoke your status, SpecTRe Williams. There is no reason that humanity's departure from the Council would have an effect on your position. Only a SpecTRe's own actions can see their appointment revoked."

Ashley felt like a fool for behaving like a hothead in front of the serene Councillor. In response she squared her shoulders in an attempt to look more like a soldier and less like a petulant child about to throw her toys.

"My apologies, ma'am," Ashley began. "The last hour has been…difficult. I think the expectation from the Alliance is that I will no longer serve the Council. They expect me to resign. I guess I was waiting for you to make that decision for me."

"Resignations amongst the SpecTRes are extremely rare, but not unheard of," Tevos said. "Is that your wish, Captain Williams - to resign?"

"No." Ashley surprised herself by replying without hesitation. "More than anything the Alliance's latest dumbass move has convinced me that I need to do more. I will not resign, regardless of any future orders. This may cause complications, especially with regards to my use of the Normandy and her crew, but I'll face those when I have to. In the meantime, I remain focused on the mission at hand."

Tevos's lips curled into an almost imperceptible smile before she continued. "I was hoping that would be your decision. I'm transmitting the coordinates for the Normandy's rendezvous with an asari frigate. I was hoping to be able to spare another ship or that the Turians would join us, but for the time being the Normandy and the Pserimos will be acting alone."

Ashley nodded. "Understood. The Normandy is used to operating alone so I'm grateful for any back-up."

"One of our finest young officers commands the Pserimos, Commander Kurin, I think the two of you will work well together. Remember, Captain, these initial stages are reconnaissance only. Depending on what you find, you will still have the support of Council Fleets. Whilst under your command, we regard the Normandy as a SpecTRe vessel."

That'll make Kessler's day if he ever found out. Ashley opted not to give voice to that sentiment. It now felt as though she had usurped complete command of the Normandy. Despite the general leeway give to frigate captains, Ashley knew that there was no precedence for her situation. As a Council SpecTRe she was following the Council's orders, in an Alliance vessel with an Alliance crew. The disciplined Alliance marine in Ashley told her to turn the ship around and participate in the fly past on Elysium. However the cynic who had reluctantly involved herself with galactic politics clearly said 'fuck the fly past.'

"I'm looking forward to the challenge, ma'am."

Tevos titled her head to one side and studied Ashley with interest. "This isn't the military, Williams, Tevos is fine."

Ashley replied with a non-committal nod. The imposing Councillor would remain 'ma'am' for the immediate future. "The Alliance's actions are…regrettable," Ashley said. She fervently wished that she could think of something more intelligent to contribute. As it was, her vocalisations were tame compared to what she really wanted to say. Somehow telling the Asari Councillor that the Alliance was being run by a bunch of donkey-dicks didn't feel quite right.

Tevos nodded sagely. "Indeed. The portents have been present for months, but I could not help but feel an element of surprise upon hearing the news. I will not idly speculate as to the future Captain Williams, but I can warn you that the Alliance's future direction may cause difficulties for us all. You in particular. Your divided loyalties may be called into question."

Although Ashley did not want to be singled out for special treatment, she could not deny Tevos's truth. A small sigh escaped her lips. "I keep telling myself that I'm just doing my job," she admitted. "But lately I know that it won't be enough. I'm in a position where I can do something and I intend to…regardless of the consequences." Ashley was clearly coming down on the side of 'fuck the fly past.'

"Captain…" Tevos began uncertainly. "If you do find your…position compromised, please understand that you and the crew of the Normandy will find safe harbour on Thessia."

"I'm very grateful, but I don't think it has come to that yet," Ashley replied, not quite ready to envision spending the rest of her life surrounded by asari. "We'll rendezvous with Commander Kurin and the Pserimos in two days."

Tevos nodded. "Happy hunting, Captain."

When Councillor Tevos's image disappeared, Ashley was once again free to sag against the console as the weight of her responsibilities descended on her shoulders. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she had effectively stolen the Normandyfrom under the Alliance's nose.Regardless of whether her mission in the Terminus Systems succeeded, there was the very real possibility that there would be consequences to face when she returned. She just hoped that Miranda was making some effort to toe the company line on Mindoir. However, knowing the Australian as well as she did, Ashley suspected that she would not.


Omega, Sahrabarik

On Omega, violence was a constant neighbour to all. However in her years on the streets Mycea Kasos had only ever encountered its aftermath. Smelt its stench in a corpse tossed casually into a back alley, swiftly rotting in the heat. Seen its impact on the faces of the vendors and mercs she saw daily - black eyes, broken limbs or worse. She noticed the absence of those who simply disappeared, just as swiftly forgotten. Even her most intimate contact was with those she found hunched in pain. With supplies cadged from Prax, she inexpertly tended their wounds.

Myke lived a charmed life in comparison to those poor souls. Being caught by a stray shot was the first time that violence had impacted directly on her life. Even then adrenaline ensured that it hurt far less than it ought to.

Now that same wound was almost causing her to cry out in agony – almost. Myke refused to give her captors the pleasure of hearing her cry out. Not that she knew who they were.

She'd overslept that morning. The luxury of a proper bed and the security of her own apartment made her uncharacteristically lazy. She remembered waking and stretching out all four limbs, grinning with delight when she could not reach the edges of the bed. Anxiety had taken hold almost as soon as she saw the time. Worried that Shepard was already waiting for her at Prax's clinic, Myke had dashed through the markets in a careless manner. She had been too surprised to even cry out when they jumped her. Something dark and cloying was dragged over her head before she could see their faces, or even how many there were. Her efforts to fight back, kicking out with her feet and clawing with her nails, had earned only laughter and a solid thump with something hard. Whilst dazed, she felt herself be picked up and swung over someone's shoulder like a sack. Warm blood trickled over her forehead and in the crevices between her crests.

Half a dozen thoughts were running through her mind as she was carried – none of which had the potential for a happy ending. Slavers sometimes obtained goods on Omega. Although Aria frowned on the practice, 'dissuaded' those she caught, her people couldn't be everywhere at once. Myke had absolutely no doubt as to what would happen to her if she had been snatched by slavers. She was furious at herself when she felt her eyes burn with fearful tears. It required an intense effort to stifle them, but she focused on the fact that she wasn't some street rat that could be taken without anyone noticing. Shepard would care. Shepard would come looking for her. The ex-marine would do to the slavers exactly what she did to Aria's mercs several days earlier, only with more blood. Myke consoled herself with that thought.

The young asari was feeling particularly sorry for herself by the time she was ungraciously dumped onto an unyielding floor. Throughout the ordeal she had refused to cry out, but she couldn't suppress a yelp as she hit the ground hard. The cut on her forehead was still bleeding, she could now feel it trickling down into her right eye.

She felt a hand on her head. Someone grasped the fabric and tugged. Light flooded her eyes and she could see nothing at first except an endless white.

"Do you half-witted fucks not understand the meaning of 'be careful.' Would someone please tell me why the fuck there's blood pissing out of her head?"

The voice was unmistakable. Ice flooded Myke's veins. Not slavers. Slavers would have been preferable to this. Myke blinked. Her eyes finally cleared. She forced herself to look up and meet the predatory gaze of Aria T'Loak.


A/N: I recently wrote a one-shot which covers Evan's experience on Akuze (and prior). It can be found on my profile as chapter 5 of Pieces of Fate. I don't like telling anyone to read anything, but I think it offers an insight into the type of person that Evan was before Akuze and would probably offer interesting background reading for the main Fate series if you've missed it.