The first exo-galactic relay had been the hardest.

They seemed so strange…similar to their intergalactic relays but different as well. For one, they were almost completely circular. Instead of the familiar ball of blue dark energy cradled within it, there was a smaller, almost murkier ball of green. The salarian scientist who had been assigned to Eír's little transport, Gau Weeks, said it was some sort of direct plasma energy. Eír didn't know about that, but it seemed worn and ugly to her.

It had taken them three days before they were confident enough they could properly access the relay and knew where it would let out, before Eír and her small ship were able to test it. Since then, they had discovered twenty more, set at certain locations all around the galaxy. Eír and her ship had to be the first to jump through each and every one, but now-nearly a month from their departure from the Citadel-the krogan and salarian fleet were almost fully deployed.

It was their last jump, to the furthest most relay away from the Citadel connection as could be had. Beyond being a different color, the plasma energy also made transition slower. Using the intergalactic relays was almost instant-a second or two of shifting and that was it, even for the longest connections. Here, that shifting was stretched out, in some cases to nearly ten seconds. It was a decidedly odd and incredibly uncomfortable sensation. The first time it had happened, Weeks had vomited, and Eír had been on the trembling edge of doing so herself.

She hid a gasp of relief as they snapped back in to normal space, the nausea easing. She looked at her display quickly to verify nothing was in immediate hazard range.

"We are clear of the relay," she said. Zyara nodded.

"Starting long range scans now."

"Processing new relay data," Weeks said from his small station. "Yes, as speculated. This particular relay has a secondary coordinate lock-in different than the ones we have encountered before now."

"Can we verify the coordinates?"

"No, will take some unravelling," he said. "But it is my suspicion that they may link to a similar relay near Andromeda."

"So the quarantined galaxies are connected?"

"Possibly. Likely. It would make deployment of Reapers far quicker, and it would stand to reason that the Senate has a fast way to connect all galaxies in its empire. However, I don't want to speculate too much until I can verify."

"I wonder what that trip is like," Zyara said softly.

Weeks shrugged. "Depends. If they set relays like stepping stones between the galaxies, the trip would be similar to the one we just endured."

"Only we'd have to repeat it a dozen times," Eír said. "Hopping across dark space like bugs crossing a pond."

"Yes. If this relay connects directly and there are no stepping stones, then the journey would take…"

He did some quick mental calculations, murmuring to himself, before he blinked at them. "Twenty standard hours."

"Twenty hours?" Eír stared at him. "That stretchy vertigo feeling for twenty hours? We couldn't survive it!"

"Yes, unlikely. Therefore, unlikely for the exo-galactic species as well, if they have any sort of physiology in common with us. So…I'm guessing stepping stones."

"But you don't know for sure."

"Not until I unravel these coordinates," he said.

"Ok, get to work. Zy, how's the scan doing?"

"So far we are all clear," the other asari said, her eyes glued to her readouts. "I am reading no-"

Something flared over their display, making the holographics go haywire for a moment. Both the Wolf and Eír snapped their hands back from the console, staring as scrolls of strange symbols briefly appeared, then odd, high-pitched sounds oddly reminiscent of a rachni chewing on a varren, echoed through the ship.

Then, just as quickly, it vanished.

Once she was sure her console wasn't going to short out or blow up in her face, Eír's fingers flew back to the controls. "I'm showing no virus in the system, no malware, no reports of damage to software-"

"No hardware damage," Weeks said, also working quickly. "Our signal stream to the relay and to the Fleet is intact."

"I have it," Zyara said. "There's a pulsing signal with the same marker as the one we just received. I'm tracking the location…got it. It is two thousand, one hundred and fifty nine point seven million kilometers away, moving closer at cruising speed."

"What direction?"

"Directly to port."

"Directly?"

"Directly, same navigational plane."

"It's coming from deeper in dark space," Eír said. "Away from the quarantined areas. That means Senate."

"If the Senate still exists," Weeks said. "Could be completely new species or faction."

"Whoever they are, they are moving at consistent speed directly toward our position," Zyara said.

"How long until they get here?"

"If they jump to full FTL, about two hours," she said. "If they keep moving at cruising speed, we have more time…nearly a full day."

"Are you reading an actual ship?"

"Too far just yet," Zyara said. "I am just tracking the pulsing signal. Could be one ship, could be an armada. We will not be able to scan them on long range to verify for another…ten hours at current speed."

Weeks had gotten up from his station and was now hovering between them. "Probably not hostile."

"Can you guarantee that?" Eír demanded.

"No, of course not. However, can extrapolate a lot from their actions. That signal was a scan of some sort, or an attempt at communication. They did not damage our systems. They are now pulsing their signal, directly giving us something to track. They want us to know they are there, know they are coming, and know how fast they are moving. Actions testify to caution, but not hostility."

"All of that can be extrapolated based on logic we would use," Eír said. "These are complete unknowns. What we would logically conclude was caution may be something else entirely to them."

"True."

"We have two choices," Zyara said, looking at her. "We can signal the fleet through and bolster our defensive position, or we can retreat back through the relay and rejoin them on the other side."

"Three," Eír said, moving her fingers over her display. "We can signal Grunt to stand by and go and meet this 'ship' face to face ourselves."

Zyara looked at her calmly. "Are you sure that is what you want to do?"

"Ship almost guaranteed to outgun us," Weeks said. "They will be far superior technologically. If they are hostile, this is suicide."

"Maybe," Eír replied. "If they are hostile, however, then they'll wipe out the entire fleet as well, if we wait for them to come through. If we retreat back through the relay they'll just follow us and again, wipe us all out and then head into the Milky Way."

"So…meeting them halfway prevents this…how?" Weeks asked, confused.

"If we get to them and they're hostile, we can warn the fleet. They can get back through the relays to home space, warn them before that ship has a chance to follow. It may not be much but it buys them some additional time."

"What if we are just obliterated, and cannot warn them?"

"I'm sending a message to Grunt right now," she said. "If we just drop off the board and he doesn't hear from us, then he's to assume we've been destroyed and retreat to warn home space. If we haven't been destroyed there's no real harm done. If we have, then they've still got as much warning as we can give them."

Weeks hummed under his breath, then looked at the Wolf. "You ok with this?"

"It is the most logical course to take, given the circumstances," she said calmly.

"Yes. It is. Very well. I will work on deciphering these coordinates in the meantime. Let's just hope they are not hostile. For everyone's sake."

Melara heard the soft footsteps crossing the infirmary as she pulled her uniform tunic on, trying not to wince. Most of the damage had been repaired, but she was going to be sore for a long time. Lily had offered to give her some analgesics to help with the pain, but Mel had never liked the way they fogged up her head and right now she needed as many of her wits about her as she could get.

Nearby, Lily shifted the curtain that had been draped to offer privacy, looking out to see who was approaching. Mel didn't need to look, recognizing the tread. Lily looked back at her.

"Take it easy," was all she said before she drew the curtain back and walked away. Finishing with the last fasten of her tunic, Mel looked over just as a gentle hand touched her shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" Liara asked in a quiet voice.

"I'm fine, Mama. Nothing to write home about. Did you want to speak with me?"

"Admiral Tonaki is here to debrief you," she said. "You and the commander."

"Where is she?"

"She is…Sam and Dae are with her in the monastery library right now," she said. "She is watching footage from the war."

"You think that's a good idea?"

"She wanted to see it. She is trying to understand our universe…perhaps taking the first steps to finding her place in it, if we cannot get her home."

"We'll get her home," Melara said firmly. "Between Irie's expertise and the Pios' help, we have an excellent chance at it."

Liara looked at her softly. "You are thinking about your father."

Mel frowned, getting to her feet. She shifted from the taller biobed to the chair beside it, grabbing her boots and beginning to pull them on. "Of course I'm thinking about her. Don't tell me you aren't."

"I am," Liara said. "More than I should be. I think…I think of stepping through that blackness and then seeing her there. Whole, alive, young…"

"You can," Melara said, looking up at her. "Mama, you can."

"No," Liara said, meeting her eyes. "No, I cannot."

"Mama-"

"No matter how desperately I want it, Melara, the truth remains that she will not be my Del. On some fundamental level, they are the same person. That much is true. But what we did together, what we went through together…the war, fighting Saren, falling in love, losing each other, raising a family…none of that will be there. She has her own life, made up of her own experiences- far different than the ones that made up the person I fell in love with. She has her own love, and I will not have my happiness at the expense of others."

Melara looked down, her posture frustrated, before she rubbed a hand over her forehead. "She didn't even know me, did she? She caught my hand…saved my life, and she didn't even know who I was."

"Some part of her, deep down inside, may have sensed it," Liara said. "That Del, and her Liara…they are just now finding each other. Who is to say that in a few years' time she isn't holding a little one in her arms? That she will not look down into innocent eyes as dark as hers and think of that long ago asari who came into her life and left again just as swiftly?"

"I just…I just want her back, Mama. I miss her so much."

"I know my love. I know. I do too."

Mel wiped her palms off on her knees, then got to her feet. When her hand went to her side instinctively as her healing muscles pulled, Liara gently caught her arm.

"I'm ok, Mama," Mel said softly, then blinked a little as Liara pulled her closer and hugged her. Wordlessly, feeling her mother's emotion, Melara carefully hugged her back.

Admiral Tonaki was waiting in one of the monastery sitting rooms when Melara entered. Both Alliance military and asari commandos were still littered throughout the monastery, mingled with the geth that called it home. Only a few 'trusted' Ardat-Yakshi, such as Bethayla, were allowed free roam of the grounds.

Necessary as it was, Melara felt horribly about it. They were prisoners enough being forced to live here. Now they had been even more imprisoned inside their own home…and there was no telling for how much longer.

Admiral Tonaki was lingering near the window to the garden when she came in, but he wasn't enjoying the view. Instead, his attention seemed to mostly be on the data pad in his hand. He looked up as he heard her step in, and she saluted.

Lifting his own in return he nodded. "At ease, Captain. It's good to see you on your feet again. How are you feeling?"

"Ready to get back in the black, sir," she said.

"I understand, but unfortunately your ship needs extensive repairs. Asari High Command has a mobile dry dock on its way to this system. We should be able to tow the Normandy to the dock in orbit by this evening, but the repairs themselves may take weeks."

"Weeks? Sir, my crew and I cannot stay here for weeks. Our mission is-"

"Yes, I know," he said, and walked over, handing her the pad that had the Normandy's damages listed upon it. "As you can see, however, these repairs cannot be rushed, and the damage done by these exo-alien weapons must be studied closely. It may be the only chance we have to start developing countermeasures against them. However, neither the Fleet Master nor the Council are willing to keep you on the sidelines while your ship is repaired. We're working on getting you a temporary replacement vessel to utilize in the meantime."

"She won't be the Normandy."

"I know she won't, but it's what we've got to work with. In the mean time we were able to salvage the Anchor from the Normandy's cargo bay. The containment around the Anchor had been damaged but the structure itself I'm told is fully intact. We have it resecured and under guard at a temporary camp we have assembled at the Normandy's crash site. We were also able to recover some of the bodies of the hostiles and our medics are working on necropsies as we speak."

"So you can get me home?"

Both turned as Ashley came in the door, ushered in by an Alliance private and followed by Irie. Ash's eyes were fixed on Admiral Tonaki, and he lifted his brows as he looked at her.

"I knew what to expect," he said, "but seeing you face to face…it is a unique sensation."

"Being in someone else's universe is about as unique a sensation as you can get," she said. "You said the anchor I came through is still intact?"

"Yes," Melara said. "And it looks like we're going to have a few more days planetside than I'd hoped. Irie can start working on studying it, see if we can't find a way to dial in to your home volume."

"That problem can be worked on, but our top priority must remain the threat we face now. These hostiles have invaded our galaxy twice now. Oasis may have been a simple scouting run, but by reports this may have been a full scale invasion, if it had not been stopped in time by some quick thinking of your husband, Irie. A small handful of fighters were able to take down two Alliance cruisers and the most sophisticated frigate we have to offer. If a full invasion force arrives we cannot contest them- they would outgun even the Reapers.

"This anchor that the Normandy picked up was buried, left behind, but we would be fools to assume it is unique in that. There could be dozens, hundreds more forgotten on worlds scattered all over this galaxy. We need to devise a method to find and secure or even eliminate them before the aliens access them and pour into our galaxy en masse."

"They may be far more hesitant than that," Melara said.

"Why?"

"For one thing, they consider us infected. They are terrified of biotics, and more terrified of them escaping the confines of our galaxy and spreading to theirs. It's very likely all the troops we have seen so far are suicide squads, perhaps even pressed into the invasion against their will. Secondly, they carved through us, it's true- but they suffered great losses and lost their waypoint into our space. They may be rethinking our own capabilities, and have lost some confidence in their own might."

"You have a good point, but we must act with the worst case scenario in mind. That is…that is where you come in, Commander Williams. And you, Dr. T'Soni."

Ashley blinked. "Me?"

"I am authorized to do or provide anything that is needed to get that Fold back open and tuned to your universe and timeline."

"But…not just out of the goodness of your heart so I can get home, I take it?" she said.

"Not solely because of that, no. It is our hope that your own forces will be willing to join with ours to combat this threat."

"You want to bring in OUR fleets?" she blinked.

"Your fleets, specialists, experts…anything that may help us in our efforts. From what I understand it is in your galaxy's best interests to put a stop to this threat and find a 'cure' for this 'infection' as much as it is in ours. If our universe is torn apart by biotics, yours is taken along with it."

"I do not think that will be possible, Admiral," Irie said, shaking her head.

"Why?"

"Simple physics, conservation of energy. Something cannot exist at two points simultaneously. You cannot add matter to this galaxy that is already here, it would be catastrophic."

"I don't understand," he said, and pointed at Ashley. "She's here."

"But she's not. Her counterpart here is centuries dead. And physics may be able to forgive miniscule amounts of matter passing between volumes but not entire fleets…hordes of military personnel or scientists whose counterparts are here, alive and well. Best case scenario, anything that came through the Fold would just start to dissolve once that minimum level was reached. Their atoms would be unable to retain cohesion in our universe, the quarks that make them up simply returning to their own universe in particulate form. Worst case, there would be a chain reaction that would be every bit as destructive as the one we face now with dark energy."

"What would be the minimum level?"

"There is no way to know," she said. "Clearly, at least one person who is not already here causes no disruption or dissolution, otherwise we would not be having this conversation, and Ash would not be standing here. However, it may take only a single person who IS already here…Mama, for example. If her counterpart came from Ash's universe to this one, where she already exists, that could be all it takes for devastating consequences. Until we test it we cannot know, and testing it without knowing is incredibly unwise. No, I am sorry, Admiral. We cannot risk bringing anything from their universe into ours, beyond data streams, information. We can talk to them, but they cannot come over and help us- not without risking us all."