Pyrrha was a dozen paces ahead of them already down a narrow hallway lit only by intermittent, dim lights. The orange markings lining her fringe made her easy to follow.

"The executor's offices are back that way," she said over her shoulder. "But that's the last place you three monumentally stupid cloacae want to go. I don't know if I should slap you or kiss you, you know. How you plan to escape the Hierarchy when it's turned its full attention on you, I have no idea. But then, it takes some damn talent to get to that point in the first place, and I can respect that. So what are you anyway, red?"

It wasn't often that Hannah felt off-kilter, but this asari had a talent for it. Sana couldn't seem to lose the constant look of apology as they followed her contact through the flickering semi-darkness. Odessus's mandibles were flared wide, and she didn't seem to be able to find words to respond to anything Pyrrha said.

Hannah was about to respond that she was a human when what might as well have been a giant grasshopper turned the corner ahead of them and started walking toward them. She grabbed Odessus's arm and pulled her back into the shadows. "Look out!"

Pyrrah threw her head back and gave a loud, open-mouthed laugh. "That's a keeper, pyjack. Perfectly harmless and, more importantly, completely uninterested in anything we're doing. They're pretty much the only ones who use these tunnels. Unless you're a fugitive on the run from the most powerful military in Council space or a mole for a pirate queen or an executor with unconventional tastes in evening company, at least for a batarian. Just keep out of its way and you'll be fine."

Odessus chuckled and patted the hand Hannah still had clutching her arm. "It's fine," she said. "They can't even talk."

Hannah relaxed and let go of Odessus. She was going to have to gain more control of herself if she didn't want to attract too much attention. She took in a steadying breath and continued after Pyrrha, sidestepping the grasshopper thing as it crawled past her, seemingly focused on one thing and oblivious to everything else.

"My name is Hannah," she said when she finally caught up to Pyrrha. "Not red or pyjack."

Pyrrha nodded, but she wasn't sure if it was an acknowledgment or a dismissal. "Of course it is. What about you, sweethips? You got a name?"

Odessus blued slightly around her neck and answered, "It's definitely not sweethips. It's Ravaka."

Pyrrha nodded again without looking at her. "Fair enough, Ravaka. This is our exit here."

The drastic change from the narrow, near-silent tunnel to a dark night club with lights flashing and music thrumming with bass was disorienting. Pyrrha threw out her arms and yelled at them over the music. "Welcome to the Citadel!"

Without further ado, she began to weave her way through the mixed crowd of drinking, dancing, stumbling aliens. Asari and turians were present in great numbers, but so were others. Small and round steampunk teddy bears. Big, lumbering boulders. Walking, horned salamanders. Four-eyed bulldog people. Platforms raised and lowered in an open area, carrying gyrating, leather-clad asari with them. Every table was occupied with patrons gesticulating wildly at each other and glasses and cylinders both filled and overturned. It didn't matter: the language of debauchery was written clearly and boldly across every body, regardless of the species.

Of all the things Hannah might have expected to encounter on the majestic station that had hypnotized her as it turned slowly in the light of the nebula, this wasn't exactly it.

Hannah must've stopped walking, arrested by the scene in front of her, because she felt a three-fingered hand come to rest on her shoulder. She shook her head and looked at Odessus beside her. The club was too loud for speaking, but her tilted head and drawn-down browplates sent a clear message: stopping was not an option. They had to keep moving.

Pyrrha had moved farther into the crowd, but at least she was still easy to find. Hannah caught sight of a door that seemed to be the object of the asari's weaving path. Door one had been a tunnel used almost exclusively by giant bugs. Door two had been the sort of night club Hannah hadn't entered since before Alli was born. What would be behind door three?

#

As soon as they had exited the club, the overpowering music subsided and Hannah felt like she could breathe again. Pyrrha stood at a terminal, entering information. A moment later, a small shuttle landed next to her and opened its doors.

Pyrrha waved Hannah over and indicated the car. "You've got the back."

Hannah felt tempted to argue for its own sake, but she thought better of it and crawled into the back as she'd been told.

"You too, Ravaka," she heard her call, and Odessus climbed in after her.

When both Pyrrha and Sana had taken their seats and closed their doors, Hannah felt the shuttle start to lift off. "Isn't this grand?" Pyrrha said, turning and leaning in close toward Sana. "Just two asari who found each other in the crush of a night club, leaving to fuck somewhere in private."

Sana was nearly lavender.

Hannah had an idea that Pyrrha enjoyed putting each of them off balanced.

Odessus must've gotten the same idea and growled. "Just drive, asari."

Pyrrha giggled. "Oh, listen to those subvocals! You've got a bit of mama varren in you, don't you, Ravaka. All right, fine. I won't torment T'Oriza anymore, even though she might have just blown a cover I've been working on for fucking years."

Sana's color grew normal again, and she crossed her arms, clearly becoming indignant. "She is the one who gave you the order. She knew the risk. And if a simple escort assignment is enough to blow your cover, you were not a good plant in the first place. Do not blame me for your own ineptitude."

Pyrrha smiled and winked at Sana. "There she is. Nice to see you again, T'Oriza."

After five interminable minutes, they came to a stop at the base of what seemed like a tower. Pyrrha exited the vehicle and Odessus followed after, offering a hand to Hannah.

"You have to pick up the pace, Hannah," Pyrrha called, already halfway up the stairs to the entrance. "The longer you're out here, the more likely it is that someone's going to see you. Goddess, the more likely they'll see me."

Hannah bit the inside of her lip. She knew it wouldn't do any good to talk back to this asari, who was relentlessly prodding for a reaction, but the desire to snap at her was so real it was almost palpable. Instead, she picked up her pace until she was practically on her heels.

Just inside the door were two more asari, each dressed in black fatigues and holding what looked like assault rifles. They took a step forward in unison, clearly motioning to stop them.

Sana stepped forward, ahead of even Pyrrha, and squared her shoulders. "I have an audience, and I don't have time to argue with you. Call her to verify, and let us through."

One of the asari raised her gun, pointing it at Sana's chest. "This is her private residence. She doesn't grant audience here."

Sana stepped forward again, seemingly unconcerned by the gun pointed at her. The steel in her spine was unmistakable, and her words came out cold and hard. "Call her."

The soldiers exchanged a quick glance, but the gun never wavered. After a long moment, they nodded at each other, and the one with a free hand raised it to her ear. She spoke too low and quick for Hannah's translator to pick up on what she said, but the complete reversal of both asari's expressions was unmistakable. The one with her gun trained on Sana lowered it immediately and stepped back.

"Of course, ma'am," she said, her voice higher and more strained now. "Please, Doctor, come right this way. An assistant will be right with you to make you comfortable."

Sana thanked the soldiers and pushed through the door. Hannah and Odessus followed her, but from the corner of her vision, she saw Pyrrha approach one of the soldiers and shake her hand.

"You only saw three people," she said and pulled her hand away. Hannah caught the glint of a small chip in the soldier's palm. Pyrrha took the other soldier's hand and looked her pointedly in the eyes. "Yes?"

Both soldiers examined their gifts briefly and slipped them into their pockets. The one who had made the call resumed her guard stance and sounded bored. "No one cares about a cab driver."

Pyrrha nodded, turned, and left without a backward glance. Hannah turned her attention back toward Sana and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank the spirits," Odessus muttered, and Hannah grinned.

The foyer was cavernous, with mauve and gray drapes lining the silver-white walls, and a single blue figure stood at attention in the center. She was as expressionless as the soldiers had been and motioned for the trio to follow her as they approached without ever uttering a single word. She ushered them up the main staircase and turned right at the landing without stopping to check that they followed her.

They turned down a long hallway of doors but thankfully didn't have far to go. She palmed the green light glowing in front of one of the doors and it slid open. She stepped aside but otherwise did not look any of them in the eye, instead staring past them until they entered the room. Without another word, she walked back the way they'd come and let the door slide shut once more.

Odessus trilled and turned around as she took stock of the office and its lush chaise lounges and carefully manicured flowers drooping over tabletops. "Don't think I don't know where we are, Sana, even if we did go in the back way to avoid the tourists," she said. "This might be a private residence, but it's still public property and an attraction. If this works, I expect to be paid for my silence to the family regarding our quiet asari cousin and who she spends her time with."

Sana waved Odessus away. "Pyrrha has taken what little patience I've had today. Do not speak until or unless I say." Hannah went to the lounge and was about to sit when Sana snapped at her. "Do not sit, either. You will stand until you are told otherwise."

Hannah suppressed a smile and straightened. Personally, she like Sana this way—demanding, sure, impatient. She just hoped whoever walked through that door next would like her this way too.

#

It wasn't long before yet another asari appeared. She wore a bright red dress with a single white panel down the middle and had markings around her eyes that were somewhat similar to the ones Sana had, though there were more of them. Before anyone could greet her, she was already talking.

"Any asari can ask for an audience with me, Dr. T'Oriza," she said, crisp and clipped. "At my office. During business hours. After making an appointment. Might I ask why you decided to use our mutual acquaintance to demand we meet in my home and immediately?" She glanced away from Sana and seemed to notice Hannah for the first time. "And you are?"

Sana stepped forward and nodded toward the new asari. "Councilor Tevos, this is Lieutenant Commander Hannah Shepard of the Alliance Navy. She is human."

Oh Jesus, Hannah thought. One-third of the Council is standing in front of me. A little heads up would've been nice, Sana.

The councilor turned away from her, clearly unimpressed. "What you've just said is nonsense to me, Doctor. I do not know what a human is, and I'm unaware of any naval body connected to a government that calls itself the Alliance."

Hannah and Odessus exchanged a glance. How could she not know? The patrol that led to Shanxi was conducted by the Hierarchy, true, but it had been in service of Council space. How could one of the councilors be unaware of what had happened? They'd assumed the Council was already aware of the situation in at least a passing sense. If the asari councilor was in the dark about Shanxi, what else didn't she know? By the set of her jaw, Sana seemed to be turning over these questions too.

"If I might ask," Sana ventured, "is Councilor Titinius available."

Tevos cut her hand across the air. "He is not. I will not demand he come to my home for an audience, either. He has been far too busy lately, and I will not have you disturb him further."

Sana began to pace. "And what about the turian ambassador? Might we be able to speak with him?"

Tevos was growing in her annoyance and crossed her arms. "As it happens, he has been in a meeting with Titinius for several hours. Neither of them is available, and I am not their personal assistant, here to relay their schedules to you. If you wanted to speak with them, you should've had Aria call their offices, not mine." She turned to leave, but Hannah raced forward to grab her arm. The sound of Sana calling for Hannah was starting to become too familiar.

"Mark my words, ma'am, they're planning a war in that meeting. A war with the Alliance."

The asari shook off her grip. "Once again, I have no idea what the Alliance is. The Hierarchy is sovereign and can go to war whenever it deems it necessary, provided it's legal. If what you say is true, the turian councilor and ambassador are no doubt discussing those issues as we speak."

She turned to leave again, but Sana called after her. "Of course, Councilor, you are correct, and we will not bother you any longer. Before you go, however, our friend has asked me to tell you that Liselle is doing well."

Tevos froze with her hand above the door. She straightened and let her hand fall to her side as she turned slowly.

Sana turned and sat down on one of the lounges. "She completed her commando training last year. Apparently, she was unmatched in her cohort for her marksmanship. Our friend tells me Liselle has started taking contracts and is growing quite the reputation as a professional mercenary. She tells me Liselle has even done some work with the salarian STG in the Terminus. Unofficially, of course."

Tevos walked slowly toward Sana but still said nothing.

Sana turned a cool gaze toward Hannah. "How many ships does the Alliance have?"

Hannah's hand twitched as she brought it up to rub her neck. "We have four fleets, each with twenty carriers. I'm afraid I can't give you any more information than that without committing treason."

Odessus began to pace and wring her hands. She huffed, "Well, the Hierarchy does prefer a fair fight. Four fleets and eighty carrier groups is plenty fair."

Sana nodded sagely. "I imagine the Hierarchy will need to lean on its allies to tip the balance in their favor. Just like they did during the Krogan Rebellions. The turians and the asari have always been close in that regard. I am sure more than a few asari commandos will jump at the chance to join up, maybe out of boredom or a sense of camaraderie. Maybe some young commandos will see this war as a chance to prove themselves, to build a resume even. What do you think, Councilor?"

Tevos stood straighter and clasped her hands behind her back. Still, she said nothing.

Sana tilted her head and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. "I had two sisters once. They were both trained hand-to-hand specialists—trained, in fact, by the Hierarchy. They were both crack shots, too. For all their skill, they still ended up on the wrong end of a pirate's rifle barrel. They were still very young—about Liselle's age, come to think of it. My mother did not leave her room for almost a month after she learned of their deaths." She paused there and stood, crossing her arms. "My father was never the same, but he had an advantage over my mother. He died a few years later. She is still alive, and she still remembers them. It is a wound that has never fully healed."

The two asari stood there, holding each other's unblinking gaze.

Sana uncrossed her arms and began to walk toward the door. "We will not keep you any longer, Councilor. Thank you for—"

"Stop." She turned to Sana and held out a hand. "If I must take a side on this issue, I need to know what happened."

Sana took the councilor's hand in her own, and if Hannah didn't know better, she'd have thought both asari's eyes turned black. But the moment was over in a matter of seconds, and Hannah's mind turned back to more pressing issues than asari handshakes.

Tevos turned to Hannah and nodded. "I can offer the three of you asylum, but I'm afraid you will not be able to leave this residence. My household manager will see to your needs while I convene with the other councilors."

When she turned and left, Sana visibly relaxed and turned back to Hannah. "Now we wait."

A few moments later, the same asari who had met them in the foyer opened the door. She still did not speak but motioned for them to follow her.

She led them down another hall and opened a door. She crooked a finger at Hannah and swept out her other hand into the open doorway. Hannah took the hint and stepped forward to peek into the room. There was a wide bed in the middle, a chest of drawers along one wall, and shelves, filled more with small sculptures than books, along the other. If it weren't for the lush sapphire of the bedding, the room would feel almost sparse.

She walked farther into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, then leaned all the way back. After months aboard military ships, the sudden softness took her breath away. She turned on her side and curled her knees up to her chest, reveling in the warm cloud of . . . bedding? relief? exhaustion? Her hands twitched, wanting to reach for a body she knew wasn't there.

A great weight suddenly pressed down upon Hannah. It was one thing to be on the run, but it was quite another to be still, stuck, trapped. She had no doubts in the councilor's ability to keep her safe and alive, at least officially. But Hannah felt like she had traded one prison for another, albeit with better sheets. There was no telling how long she would be trapped here. At least in a military prison, she had an idea of years before release. But this was bureaucracy. It could be days, it could be months, but it could also still be years. She was now less sure of her future than she ever had been, and she was completely dependent on the whim of a stranger—on the whim of a politician, no less. She was alone, and there was no telling when there would be an end to that aloneness.

She opened her eyes and pushed herself off the bed.

The silent asari was already making her way to the next door and indicating for Odessus that they had reached her room. She didn't pause and immediately turned to lead Sana away as soon as Odessus had stepped through the door.

Sana put a hand to Odessus's shoulder and squeezed it. "Get settled and find a way to entertain yourself. I have arrangements to make for my ship so that it does not draw too much attention where it is." And with that, she disappeared down the hall as well.

Hannah jogged to where Sana had been and leaned against the door frame. Odessus stood in her room, stroking the silken throw blanket on her emerald green bed, which frankly looked more like a bowl of pillows. Odessus put a hand to her temple, and Hannah wondered if she was having similar thoughts about their confinement. She couldn't help but give a half smile at that thought. Maybe she wasn't quite as alone here as she first thought.

Hannah stepped forward and put a hand on the turian's shoulder. "You should rest," she said. "All this activity can't have been good for your concussion."

She waved Hannah's words away. "I'm fine. It just all still seems a little too unreal. I know I'll never look at Sana the same way again. Don't ask her about that Liselle person, by the way. I have a feeling that we're better off knowing as little as possible there." She paused, then said more quietly, "I have no idea how I'm going to tell my parents about any of this."

Hannah nearly laughed at the sentiment, but the seriousness in the way Odessus spoke stopped her. Come to think of it, she wasn't sure how she would tell anyone at all, let alone her parents, about the events of the last weeks.

She shrugged and tried for light and comforting words. "At least we'll be sleeping in style while we're here. I don't know about you, but my bed feels like it's made entirely out of feathers. I'll probably end up sleeping on the ground just so I know I'm sleeping on something other than air."

Odessus flicked out her mandibles in an amused grin but said nothing. Hannah grabbed her hand and started to pull her toward the door.

"Come on," she said. "You need food, and I need liquor. Politicians tend to have the best of both."

Odessus chuckled but made no objections and followed her down the stairs. Despite the number of corridors and doorways, it didn't take them long to find the pantries. The councilor must have had a number of turian guests because she kept two separate cupboards full of food: one for levos and one for dextros. Both she and Odessus set to work looking for food that didn't require much preparation and for alcohol that either of them could drink. When Hannah found a bright pink vial, Odessus had to quickly pry it from her grasp.

"Don't drink ryncol unless you're already drunk," she assured her. "Here. Try this asari beer instead. It's sweet, so you might think you can drink it faster, but don't," she explained. "You'll think it's juice, but then it kicks your ass."

Hannah smiled and found a tray to haul away their plunder.

The thought of Michael kept pushing into her mind. It might be months yet, or years even, before she ever saw him again. What if he couldn't or wouldn't wait for her? And what about Alli? Would she even recognize her the next time they met? Would she miss all the important moments in her daughter's young life? Who would teach her to read or pour milk into her cereal? Who would tell her stories before bed? They all knew Hannah was the better storyteller.

Maybe there was a vid they could watch. She had no idea what the rest of the galaxy considered good film-making, but there had to be something brightly colored and saccharine that she could find to distract her, at least for a little while.

Odessus put a hand on Hannah's shoulder, breaking her reverie and stopping her from walking away too quickly. "Everything is going to be okay, Hannah. You'll see your family again and soon." She paused and added, "You'll see Michael again."

Hannah felt a sob rise in her throat and swallowed it down with a swig of her beer. "I'm not holding my breath, Dess," she said. "And I don't hear any singing yet."

Odessus flicked out her mandibles. "I don't know what that means." She shook her head and laughed. "Dess? I was just getting used to you calling me Odessus instead of Stripes."

Hannah smiled and took another swig. "I like to keep 'em on their toes, leave 'em wanting more. Besides, Odessus is too many syllables. Dess is one syllable. It rolls off the tongue and makes it easier to talk to you. And 'easy to talk to' is a good quality for a friend to have, you know?"

The turian looked at her for a long moment, her expression unreadable, then shook her head again. "Let's go watch something mindless. We'll get drunk and fall asleep so we don't have to think about anything."

Hannah nodded vigorously. "That's the best idea you've ever had. Lead the way."

They found a movie—a love story about a turian and s quarian, whatever that was—and they settled into the pillows that lined the turian-style bed. The warm lull of the alcohol kicked in all too quickly for Hannah, but she supposed she should have expected that, given how little she'd had to eat since they'd escaped the turians.

Sleep took her shortly after the quarian in the vid removed her mask, but Hannah was vaguely aware of the feeling when a blanket was draped across her.

"Don't worry, Han," a flanged voice said quietly. "You'll be home soon. I promise."