Mirror, Mirror

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It had started over lunch. They'd never coincided before, but this time they'd both been to the common area later than usual – she'd been seeing Doctor Chakwas over the treatment of her scars and he'd been swamped with the new weapons that she'd acquired. Ever since she'd gotten a good batch of ingredients at the Citadel, Gardner had a different disposition, and he didn't mind throwing in something quick for them, even if it wasn't lunch time any longer.

"I'm not working you too hard, am I, Mr. Taylor? You're always too busy to come out and play…" Sunday's voice was playful on purpose: she found a certain delight in making him uncomfortable.

This time, Jacob gave her a half smile. "Things are looking up, in spite of the number of issues that appeared when you returned from Horizon." He rolled the chickpeas aside with his fork and frowned slightly.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. It's just… This feels strange."

"What? You and me, having a chat? All alone?"

"No, not that. You've come to the armory to talk on occasion, and I know that I've been… dismissive, to put it mildly." He left his fork and looked at her. "It's hard to see someone like you walking around so casually." He noticed that she was about to protest, and he rushed to say, "I'm not saying that you're larger than life or that I worship the ground you walk on. But…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd seen you on the vids for so long… After Torfan, and Eden Prime… And the day they made you a Spectre. The first human Spectre. And then I saw you lying there on that med bay for months, barely alive. I saw Miranda working round the clock, analyzing every possible variable. Even Wilson worked to the best of his capabilities. The Illusive Man dogged us all to make sure that you'd make it. As if there was something that we could do…" He pushed his plate aside gently. "And now you're here. Not only that: you're staying."

"Is that why you're talking to me now?" she asked. "You thought I'd be going away?"

Jacob gave her a long stare. "I thought you were hardcore Alliance."

"Oh, I see. Poster girl." Sunday left her fork and leaned back on her seat. "I could have been Jack, you know? Well, not really. I'm no biotic, and she obviously had it much worse. But I mostly grew up on the streets. I went through different orphanages, never a foster home. When I turned sixteen, they kicked me out – "here's your bag and some creds; we need the bed." One day I was in a tight situation and a marine saved me. No need to enter into details. He didn't say much, but he gave me directions and I found myself applying for the program." She smiled bitterly. "Ashley once told me that she disliked that kind of people, the ones who saw the military life as a meal ticket. I never told her that I was that kind of person."

"I'm sorry," Jacob said quietly.

She gave him a hard look. "Why? My motivations are my own. All the Alliance had to worry about was that I got the job done. Same as the Illusive Man. I did it then, and I'm doing it now. When Anderson told me that Spectre, Nihlus, was there to evaluate me, I went nuts. First I saw it as just another collar, but when I saw the Council so reluctant to take me in, I knew that it had to be for a good reason."

"Was it?"

"Getting your own ship and being able to act however you want? Hell yeah. Also, I got to work with great people."

"Like Vakarian?"

The inquisitive tone of the quick question and his evasive look made her think that there had been rumors about them. "Garrus was one of them, yeah. Tali was okay, I guess. Never got her much – she's the tech type. I'm sure you'd have great talks with her about guns… if she didn't hate Cerberus. Kaidan… He was my down-to-earth guy from day one. And then you have Ashley." She frowned. "But Wrex was… I don't know. He was my brother, I guess. He and Garrus were always around. Team Boom. Oh, and Liara! Liara was sweet. Powerful biotic. Her mother was a bit of a bitch, but in the end…"

She went on about the things they had seen and the mistakes they had made, and Jacob sat there, listening to the story behind the scenes. Seeing her so real, so flawed, made her all the more human. He wondered what would have happened if he'd been recruited during the Eden Prime incident. Would he have been strong enough to fight the thorian? To face Saren? Would he have let the Council die the way she had? "Being in command means that you have to make decisions that are sometimes hard," she had said only a few weeks before. That was the answer. If he had been with her at the time, she would have been the one calling the shots.

And he would have followed her without question.

The wind was powerful up there, forcing them to slow down. She grabbed Garrus by the arm and pulled him towards her. "You alright? Can you take down those drones? Miranda and I will go ahead; there are two commandos near the stairs."

"Be careful, Shepard," he warned her, readying his rifle. "If they catch you off guard, they'll send you flying over the ledge."

"I warp, you shoot?" Miranda asked for confirmation. Sunday nodded. Miranda waited until her shields were in full power before she raised her hand and sent the field against a fuel container. The explosion jammed the shields of the mercs and Sunday took advantage of the momentary chaos, using her M-4 to finish off the Eclipse dogs as she kept moving from cover to cover. Miranda rushed past her and Garrus, stationed nearby.

"Miranda will draw the last one out. Be ready!"

His movements were swift and graceful; part of the dark dance that assassins always performed. Sunday had seen one of them once, and this one was no different: his body was music and his song was death. Not a single shot was heard, except for the finale. He gently laid the body of Nassana Dantius on the desk, as if she had been someone cherished by him. He crossed her arms over her chest and hung his head in silent prayer. Sunday took a step forward, but he seemed to ignore her, and she found herself not wanting to break the image of this drell holding his hands together against the morning sun.

"It appears that someone likes to make dramatic entrances," Garrus sneered, still pointing his rifle to Thane.

Sunday snapped out of her entrancement. "And keep us waiting. We've been up all night trying to find you, Krios."

"I know," he finally said. His voice was quiet and it reminded her of the Tantalus core. "You left nothing but chaos and destruction in your wake. And I let you do that." He walked around the desk and stood in front of her. "Fire and blood were drawn as you passed by. It was… interesting to observe."

"What was interesting?" she asked, raising his hand to give Garrus a rest.

"You," Thane replied. "Your style. The way you move. Your determination." He leaned forward slightly. "How badly you wanted to get to me."

Sunday stood straight, feeling her cheeks burning. "You didn't make it easy."

"I know," he said once again, and he walked away, giving her a chance to look at him without reservations. His strong torso, his long arms and legs, his slender fingers… The appeal was evident and reserved at the same time.

Sunday cleared her throat. "I'm on a mission against the Collectors. I trust you've heard of them?"

"They've got a reputation. Is this about the missing colonies?"

"That's right. We're gonna take the fight to them."

Thane cocked his head. "It can't be done. You are aware that they dwell past the Omega 4 relay, aren't you? Nobody has ever ventured that far. It would be suicide."

"Yeah, I keep getting that," Sunday smirked. "Between you and me, it just makes me want to prove everyone wrong." She winked at him cheekily.

He shook his head and looked out of the window, into the morning sun. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The warmth was finally getting to him, bringing back memories of a time in which he had been the one standing there but at the same time, someone else. How many lives could you have in one lifetime? He was aware that she was shifting the weight of her body from one leg to the other; he could feel the vital force within that woman, a spark that he'd once had but he'd let go. "A suicide mission will do," he nodded. "I'm dying."

Her lips are relaxed but the tension in the jaw is evident. She doesn't want to care, but deep down, she does. Her eyes look beyond the window but do not see. She listens and asks the right questions at the right time, making sure that she gives me time to breathe. She understands. Caramel skin, illuminated by the cold light of the core of her ship, her home. My home now.

"Sounds pretty much like a Spectre," she commented. They were talking over coffee, like they did every other morning.

"I guess you could say so, except for the fact that A, technically we didn't exist because of the area where we operated, and so we were never assigned to epic missions, and B, we still had a ton of paperwork to deal with whenever something happened. Besides, if we were caught, the Alliance washed their hands of us."

"Oh, trust me – you're preaching to the choir," she said, biting a piece of toast and jam and licking her fingertips.

He could tell that she was being playful. Part of him wondered if he should let his guard down. After Horizon she had become more approachable, and he had a theory that the change in her attitude had to do with her disastrous encounter with her former lieutenant. Or perhaps he had opened up. He didn't know what to feel. She was ex-Alliance, just like him. No strings attached there. The legendary Commander Shepard had become flesh and blood, and still there was something about her that set her apart. Jacob shrugged. "I guess it could have been worse." He saw Sunday looking at her with a gleam in her eye and discreetly rolled his eyes. "Just don't ask."

"You're teasing me, Mr. Taylor," she gasped. "You can't just tell a girl not to ask about certain things, especially when they have to do with the dark and scandalous past of such a mysterious character…"

"Now who's teasing?" he chuckled, standing up to get some more coffee. As he was getting to the station, he saw the assassin walking into the mess hall. The drell nodded politely and helped himself to a small glass of cold tea. Jacob returned to the table and the drell followed him.

"Shepard," he greeted her with a soft tone.

"Thane, good to see you out of that room. Feeling better?"

He excuses himself, one hand gripping the mug; a datapad in the other. He gives her one last look. There is hesitation in his dark eyes. She doesn't see him. She's watching my hands, her pupils slightly dilated. She wants to touch my fingers. But I can't let her do that.

None of his business. If she was interested in that drell, it was her prerogative. Not that he expected her to get involved with anyone, though. Their mission was just too important to get distracted with that kind of attachment. Or perhaps he'd just never considered the idea of finding someone and settling down. He was no family man, and it was okay.

He left his mug on the workbench and sighed quietly. He hated drama. If she was going to flirt with him and with Thane, he would just stay away. Being in the middle would just make things unnecessarily complicated, and the last thing he needed…

He noticed the blinking light on his terminal, announcing the arrival of a new message.

He would be there, on the other side of the gate. Jacob checked his pistol. Would it come to that? No – the person that once had been his father was no longer there. He couldn't be. Ronald Taylor had never been a shining example of parenthood, but he would never have condoned such violence against his crew, against those women…

The way they had looked at him had made Jacob feel nothing but contempt. And Shepard… She was there. She'd heard everything. His cheeks burned with shame, and for a while he wished he were alone with the abomination his father had turned into. The blame and the consequences would be his alone. "Let's go," he heard her say, and he walked the final stretch with a heavy heart.

He watched Shepard take a stand. The way she let him speak his mind suited him – anger shot in controlled bursts, like her favorite weapon. Her demeanor was deceptively relaxed; by now he knew her enough to be able to tell that she was restraining herself. It occurred to him that if he let her, she'd put a bullet in his father's brain and be done with that.

And why not? His father kept making excuses for his shameful behavior – always blaming someone else for his degeneracy. He noticed that a few men had started drawing closer to where they were, and Shepard quietly signaled Thane to keep an eye on them. Somehow, that made him lose his temper. That was a waste of time. He pointed his pistol at his father's face, but when it came to pulling the trigger…

He couldn't do it. No matter how large a piece of shit that bastard was, he just couldn't do. He was different. Shepard encouraged him to take the shot, but he shook his head. He was better than that. He deserved better. His father didn't.

With a firm hand, he left the gun in Ronald Taylor's hands.

"You okay, Jacob?" Her low voice sounded almost tender, in spite of the roughness that she had shown during those hours in that hellish paradise. His name in her mouth. No more Mr. Taylor. He was his own man.

"I will be," he replied, walking towards the Kodiak. "Thank you, Shepard."

"Hey, Pom-pom Butt," Jack said, barging into Miranda's office. "Where the fuck is Shepard? I need to talk to her."

Miranda didn't even bother detaching her eyes from the screen. "The Commander is away on a mission with Doctor Solus and Grunt. She's expected to return tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? And what, we're supposed to hang in here meanwhile?"

The Cerberus officer let out a controlled sigh. "Landing on Tuchanka is not something we can afford at the moment. We're doing some maintenance-" She was startled by the impact of Jack's fist on the wall. Her blue eyes flared. "Just what do you think you're doing? Return to your hidey-hole immediately. I'll tell Kelly to let you know when Shepard's back."

"Newsflash: you don't run this ship, precious," Jack squinted. "Don't tell me what to do."

Miranda stood up. "I've got news for you: when Shepard's away, I do command this ship. I'd have no problem whatsoever in spacing you and saying that it was an accident."

"Oh yeah?" Jack stepped forward. "I'd like to see you try-"

"Ladies!" Garrus interrupted them, grabbing Jack by the arm. "You humans say 'when the cat's away, the mice will play', isn't that right? Not 'the mice will bite each other's heads off' as far as I know."

"Bite me, turian," Jack said, wriggling out of his grasp and going back to her place.

"Thank you, Garrus," Miranda said, sitting down again and resuming her work. "Were you looking for Shepard as well? Or were you just keeping an eye on us? I thought you were busy with your calibrations."

"That's something I only say to Shepard. It keeps things… less complicated." He looked away when Miranda stared at him. "I wish I could have gone with her, but I'm afraid that Tuchanka and its inhabitants would not be so kind to me. Is she coming back soon?"

"You need to talk to her about something? Get in line," she replied. Before the door closed, however, she raised her voice. "Garrus? Can I ask you a question?" She sat back in her chair and looked at the turian. "Do you really trust her?"

"Sunny?" he asked. She arched an eyebrow, almost amused. "Shit; don't tell her I called her that. I don't think she'd appreciate it." He fidgeted with the braces of his outfit. "She just let me down once, but being dead is a hell of an excuse to stand someone up."

"I… see. I'll remember to use it someday," Miranda smiled.

"Nah. It would be too cruel for the other person." He looked at her. "Listen… I know it wasn't just you, but… Thank you for bringing her back. She's worth it."

"You abandoned your family? Man, that's-"

"Given your personal history, I know how you must feel about that."

Thane's words were slow and measured, and they undid her every time. Talking to him was like staring into an incomprehensible truth, simple yet complex, and real – more real, perhaps, than anything else that she'd ever known. He told her of his memories, his son, and the wife that had departed her body. She remembered how she had felt when she'd first tried to make sense of the new world around her. "Disconnected?" she asked, when he talked to her about his son.

"The body is not our true self – the soul is." He let his eyes wander about her body. "This is why you are still you. The essence of Sunday Shepard was always there, waiting for you to return to your shell."

"It's not the best pick-up line I've heard, but I'll take it," she smirked.

He gave her a lopsided smile. "It is your spirit that makes you the woman that I know now, and the one that others knew before. I see it in battle. It blares in glorious chaos, and in its unique way, it makes the universe a brighter place. That is something I aspire to do before my time is up."

His words moved her in spite of herself. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. "So your son… He has become disconnected?"

"I do not know what has happened to him, but the path he's walking is not the one he should… More, I cannot say. So I was wondering if you would accompany me to the Citadel. I need to find him."

"Commander," Joker said on the intercom, "We're reaching Illium, ETA 5 minutes. Do you want me to tell Miranda to get ready?"

"Knowing her, she's probably waiting for me all suited up. After this, set course for the Citadel, will you, Joker?"

"Aye aye, Commander," the pilot said cheerfully.

Her perfume takes me by surprise. It is not a smell I've felt on her before. It feels young and warm. I watch her leave the room. The curve of her neck looks inviting – so do her naked shoulders. She's wearing those clothes because the uniform feels heavy, trapping. A human, just like any other. A human, different from the rest. Different to me.

"… and finally, selling illegal VI personalities. He actually sold yours for a while," Captain Bailey told her, slightly amused.

"Oh, this I have to hear," Garrus said. "Fully animated?"

"Not really, just phrases. It was pretty buggy, though. My personal favorite was 'Ever wrestled a varren for money?'" Bailey laughed. "And then you had 'I delete data like you on the way to real errors' – we always wondered if that's how you really sounded."

"Well, I'd say that's pretty extreme, Commander…" Garrus purred.

"Haw haw," she rolled her eyes. "Come on; let's go have a talk with this Mouse."

"Can we pick up a copy of that VI while we're there?" Garrus asked.

"Why? Need something to practice your calibration techniques?"

Garrus cocked his head. "Something like that, yeah…"

She punches him. Tiny drops of blood spray his clothes. He still hides behind the power that he can afford. She strikes him again. This time he reacts. A name escapes his throat. Joram Talid. I see her muttering the name to herself, lest she forget. She does this, even though she knows that I will remember it effortlessly. I feel a certain warmth within that I had thought lost forever.

I cannot see her, but she's with me all the way. She keeps me updated. She keeps me alive. She's my eyes and my ears, and I trust her. I have been in the dark place where she came from, and I understand her better than she will ever know. I hear her soft panting – she's running to keep up with my target, Kolyat's target.

And there she is – jumping, running, reaching out. She doesn't look back but she knows that I'm right behind her. I get a glimpse of my son before he enters the apartment. Kolyat. He looks different, but he's not. The boy that I left is not this young creature I'm facing. I explain why I left; I tell him the truth. And I see it in his eyes. He knows. He has always known it. He only needed to hear it from me.

Bailey talks to her. I see her lips curling into a wicked smile. Had she been someone else, he would have arrested us. But he lets her get away with it. She's intimidating. She blazes like the sun. She makes the universe a brighter place.

One look at one another and they knew which of the krogan each of them was going to shoot. Garrus had been worried about her not being able to fight them, but since her return from Tuchanka, she had become more confident. Wrex would never come back; the other krogan were completely unlike him. And Grunt… Garrus sometimes wondered if Sunday considered herself Grunt's mother. He'd spent some time watching them wrestle. She'd even shown him how to headbutt properly, and Grunt had gushed about how she was his krantt, and how she'd impressed the shaman. She was just as krogan as he was.

"Garrus," she said, taking him out of his reverie. "What d'you wanna do with the volus?"

"If Harkin's not there, we'll come back for him."

"I can't believe that idiot's behind all this," Shepard grunted as they walked to the rapid transit station. "When I see him, I'm gonna kick his nuts so hard that he's gonna be chewing them for the rest of the week."

"Nuh-uh. No way. Harkin's mine. You keep your Collectors. Hell, I'm pretty sure that one of these days you're gonna punch a Reaper."

"Only if I get up on the wrong side of the bed," she replied.

"Well then, remind me to stay on your good side, will you?"

The factory district hadn't changed a bit. Harkin's men attacked them on sight, but no matter how well prepared they were, Garrus was honed. He'd been waiting too long for this.

"Vakarian overloaded Mercenary Number 20. It's super effective!" Sunday cackled as she crouched to the left side of the cargo gate. Somehow, she was more excited than she should have been.

"I have no idea what she's talking about," Garrus muttered to Jack. She shrugged.

"I'm only here to blow up some steam. Been sitting in that dock for a long time and I needed the exercise. It was either this or stealing the Normandy, and I'm not that big of a jerk."

"Can you two focus?" Sunday urged them. "Jack, raise your shields – you'll go first. Vakarian, crates at 2 o'clock. EDI's just suggested that you go out there and shoot some of those to bring down the mechs. On my count… Go!"

Mechs and mercs, crates and cranes, all flying together and apart. Since she'd gotten some of the upgrades she'd brought along, Jack had become much more powerful and surprisingly stable. She'd taken down a heavy mech all by herself when Garrus and Sunday finally caught up with her.

To her amazement, it was Harkin who made her realize how much Garrus had changed since the first time they'd met. It was hard for her to reconcile the image of the idealistic guy who had left C-Sec behind to sail the galaxy in search for Saren. But as Thane would say, his essence was there. He'd always wanted to do what was right. Well, it seemed that sometimes "right" was spelled "rough".

The shot that went through Harkin's leg rang in her ears. "Leg? Really?" She raised her eyebrows. "I would have chosen another spot, but this is your call."

"What'd I ever do to you, bitch?" Harkin cried, crawling away.

Sunday got a grip of his head and slammed it against the floor. "Not what you did, but what you tried to do to me." She gave him a good kick on the ribs. "Washington DC, 2172. Never again to anyone, d'you hear me?"

"One of those?" Jack asked when they were walking back to the transit platform.

"One of those," Shepard replied.

On their way to Sidonis, she felt Garrus's hesitation. It wasn't hard to believe that perhaps he was not ready for this. He'd had a good education, a sheltered but strict upbringing; his father had taught him well. Perhaps she should say something, if that saved his soul. Revenge was never the answer, but at least it kept things clear. No loose ends, no strings attached. So when the aircar landed, she was ready to give him "the talk", but he sat back and breathed out slowly.

"What's eating you, Vakarian?" she asked, leaning back.

He refused to meet her eyes, but his voice was soft when he asked, "What would you do if you returned to the Normandy one day and discovered that someone had betrayed you and killed us all?"

"I'd hunt the motherfucker down and make them pay for it," she answered quickly.

Garrus nodded. "That's all I needed to know." He opened the door and got out of the car. "I need to find a good spot. I'll talk you through this, okay?"

Before he could close the door, Sunday said, "Hey Garrus… I've got your back. Do what you must."

He took out his rifle. "Aye aye, Commander."

They were more similar than she had thought.

...

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