It had been five days since they'd arrived on the Citadel. Hannah was passing the evening in the library, sitting in a chaise lounge across from Dess and idly scrolling through several newsfeeds, when Sana found her. "Lieutenant Commander, Admiral Drescher wishes to speak with you."

Hannah froze and looked at Dess, who had also paused with a talon suspended in the air, midswipe. She set down the datapad and followed Sana out of the room, smoothing down the pearl-gray tunic the councilor had provided her as she went. When they arrived in the QEC, Tevos was standing with her hands clasped behind her back as a projection of Admiral Drescher paced across the terminal like a tiger in a cage. Despite feeling inappropriately dressed to speak to the admiral, Hannah stepped up to the terminal and saluted.

Drescher did not return the salute and instead barked, "Identify."

Without pause, Hannah responded. "Lieutenant Commander Hannah Shepard of the Alliance Navy, ma'am. Assigned to Captain Viet Tran of the SSV Feynman. Serial number 426784325."

The admiral looked off to the side, as if waiting for an unseen person to confirm Hannah's information, and after a moment, she quirked a smile and returned the salute. "Good to see you're safe, Lieutenant Commander. Captain Tran will be relieved to know you're alive. At ease."

Hannah fell into parade rest and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Drescher grew sober again. "Report."

Hannah related the highlights of the last weeks' events as succinctly as she could, eliding some of the more unpleasant aspects of her experience with Vyrrnus and ending with the asari councilor's call for a ceasefire. When she'd finished, the admiral nodded, her mouth drawn into a thin line. She stood ramrod straight, her shoulders square and her hands behind her back.

"Is establishing foreign policy within your purview, Lieutenant Commander?" The question sent ice through Hannah's veins, and she felt the blood drain from her face.

"No, ma'am."

The admiral began to pace again but never left the range of the QEC platform. "And yet you took it upon yourself to secure this ceasefire? Without direction from or even consultation with the chain of command?"

"No, ma'am," she said and stopped herself. "I mean, yes, ma'am, but the ceasefire is not official until you agree to it. I don't have the rank to authorize it."

Drescher gave a curt nod. "That's right, Lieutenant Commander. You don't. Have. The rank. Would you mind telling me how I am supposed to reject a ceasefire agreement one of my own people went out of her way to arrange? A subordinate no less?"

Tevos stepped forward and held up her hand. "If I may, Admiral. While the lieutenant commander's presence in my household is not a confidential matter, I have instructed my people not to discuss it with anyone. Moreover, no one is aware of her role in the ceasefire. To the Hierarchy, the request came from the Council; to the Council, the motion came from me. You are under no obligation to agree to the ceasefire, but I strongly advise you do."

Drescher held an unblinking gaze at the asari for long enough that Hannah was unsure whether she was considering her words or imagining breaking her neck. "Councilor Tevos, would you please excuse us so that I might speak with my officer alone."

The asari bowed her head and quickly left the room. Perhaps she wondered about the admiral's intentions to kill her as well. When they were alone, Drescher turned back to Hannah. "I'm not eager for war, but I will not back down from any threat to a human colony, Lieutenant Commander. Humanity, the Alliance. We must not appear vulnerable to the galaxy, not at this early stage. They saw what happened when they attacked Shanxi. We will meet them blow for blow."

Hannah took a deep breath and asked, "Permission to speak freely, ma'am?" When Drescher nodded, she continued, "I think you're right, ma'am. We will match them in battle, I have no doubt. The difference, however, is that they would be able to replenish their resources much faster and more efficiently than we could. They have well-established colonies on dozens of worlds. We have less than a handful of settlements that still rely on outside assistance to survive. They can wait us out if they want to. They can throw wave after wave of soldiers at us, and they have allies to help them do it. We only have ourselves. Humanity might not be vulnerable now, but we certainly will be then, and there will be no hiding it."

Drescher pressed her lips together, seeming to consider what Hannah told her. When she spoke again, some of the steel had gone out of her voice. "The Alliance wants blood, Lieutenant Commander. Accepting a ceasefire would be an extremely unpopular move." She huffed and shook her head. "The only thing less popular would be a surrender. I won't be another General Williams."

Hannah hesitated and cleared her throat to find her voice again. "Ma'am, may I offer my opinion?"

The admiral barked a humorless laugh and shook her head. "You've offered more than just your opinion, Shepard. You've lain the groundwork for all future diplomacy between humanity and the rest of the galaxy. Please, proceed."

"Ma'am, this ceasefire is a decided win for us. We've already met the turians blow for blow, as you say: they hit us and we hit back, hard. It behooves us to end this conflict before they can strike again. Everyone's egos are bruised. We need to shake hands and walk away before they're bloodied too. And there will be plenty of blood if we don't walk away, ma'am. Accepting this ceasefire opens the door to making allies, rather than enemies—maybe not with the turians, per se, but with the other races. That's the real groundwork for humanity's future diplomacy, and it would be your legacy, not mine, because the choice is yours."

The admiral's eyes became unfocused, and she hummed to herself. "Very well, Lieutenant Commander. You've made your point, as much as I don't like it. The Second Fleet will rendezvous with the Citadel in thirteen hours. Captain Tran will be with me and provide you with a fresh set of dress blues. Once you're presentable, you will accompany me to the ceasefire talks."

Hannah snapped a salute. "Yes, ma'am."

She shook her head and said more to herself than to Hannah, "The UNAS is going to have my ass for this."

#

When Hannah couldn't find Dess in either the library, where she'd left her, or in her room, she made her way to the kitchen. She found the turian rummaging through the pantry. Food packages and containers were strewn haphazardly around her on the floor.

Dess didn't turn around as Hannah approached cautiously, eyeing the uncharacteristic mess, but she must have heard her anyway. "Do you know what we did with that ryncol that first night? I could've sworn we put it back here."

Hannah went to the other cupboard and pulled out the bottle full of the bright pink liquid. "You okay?" she asked.

"I will be in a few minutes," she said, taking the bottle. "How did the meeting with your admiral go?"

Hannah watched as Dess went to another cupboard and pulled out a tumbler. "Fine. She was angry at first, but she came around. She'll be here tomorrow morning to negotiate the terms for ending this conflict." Dess poured and promptly knocked back two fingers of the alcohol she'd told Hannah not to drink unless she was already drunk. No ice. No water. "Are you sure you're all right?"

The major coughed and slammed the tumbler down on the countertop. "Yeah," she said. "Shit, that tastes horrible. Every single time." She coughed again. "I got a nice long-distance call a few minutes after you did. Well, I didn't. Tevos did. She just had me in the same room in case she needed me, but Octavus didn't know that. It seems he's not quite as indulgent as your admiral."

Hannah found her own glass and poured out two drinks that were more reasonably measured. "Yeah? What did he have to say?"

Dess pounded back the second drink without waiting for Hannah to even lift her glass. "Oh, nothing incriminating. He's not going to go off on a councilor about how one of his own people helped a prisoner escape, especially if he doesn't know she already knows." She sniffed, and Hannah noticed her neck start to go slightly blue. "He said that General Vittoro had agreed to negotiate for a ceasefire, but he wanted to go on record with the Council that he felt their request was both reckless and idiotic. He seems convinced that humans are a danger to the galaxy. He actually told the councilor that if any of his crew were to sympathize with the humans, he'd have them tried for high treason."

Hannah hummed. "Sounds pretty xenophobic."

She shook her head. "That's not it. I mean, it is xenophobic, but that's not the point." She reached for the bottle and bypassed using the tumbler altogether this time. After the coughing subsided, she continued. "If he's talking about high treason, he's talking about capital punishment. Sure, I might just end up with life in prison, but he's being denied the one thing he wanted: war. He's going to want blood, and mine's really handy. He's going to push hard for my execution, no matter how the negotiations go."

Hannah stilled and felt her insides go cold. "You have asylum here. He can't touch you."

Dess laughed, though it was filled more with hysteria than anything else. "Yeah, I have asylum here. Tevos won't mind having a permanent house guest, will she? I hope the person who comes after her doesn't mind either. It'd be a shame if they reneged. At least the food is better than a military prison's."

Galactic politics and treaties were beyond Hannah's knowledge, but there had to be a place Dess could go where she wouldn't be extradited.

The turian pushed off the countertop, already unsteady, and started to pace. "Or maybe I could get Sana to smuggle me off the Citadel, just like she smuggled us on. I could run off to Omega, maybe join a merc band." She paused and fixed her gaze on the middle distance. "Become one of the thugs I've spent my entire adult life trying to protect people from. Never see my family or anyone I care about again."

Hannah set down her glass and put her hands on Dess's shoulders. She turned her so they faced each other. "None of that is guaranteed. You're panicking over what's clearly the worst-case scenario. Octavus might be powerful, but he's not going to get what he wants just for asking. Think. What are your other options?"

She shook her head and started trembling. "You don't understand. When you leave here, you'll be a hero to your people—the wily soldier who was captured by the enemy and outsmarted them. The absolute best outcome for me, the one that's almost beyond hoping for, is a dishonorable discharge. I might be free to move around in that case, but I'd still be a pariah. My family would be within their rights to require me to remove my markings, and they would. I'd be lucky to get a job at a food stand on Taetrus after this."

A high keen escaped Dess, and she turned away from Hannah.

Nothing could ever just be easy, could it. Hannah turned back to her own glass and drank down its contents in a single swallow. She quickly realized this was a mistake.

For a good sixty seconds, it felt like her insides were being incinerated—and they probably were. No amount of coughing or deep breathing relieved it, and she had to go to the sink to drink the water straight from the faucet. When the burning finally subsided, she turned around to find Dess trembling again, this time with laughter.

"I'm sorry," she said, starting to slur. "I shouldn't have made it look so easy. Ryncol takes some getting used to."

Hannah coughed one last time and glared at the turian, though with no real heat. "Alternatively, it takes no getting used to because you don't have to get used to a drink you'll never drink again. What's the proof in that shit?"

Mandibles fluttering in amusement, she cocked her head and looked as smug as Hannah had ever seen her. "Don't tell me humans can't take a little 180-proof alcohol. Maybe you're not as tough as you think you are."

Hannah rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Jesus Christ."

Apparently done laughing, Dess took a deep breath and turned serious again. "I don't know what's going to happen to me, Han. All I know is that whatever it is, it won't be good."

Hannah put her hand over Dess's but didn't say anything. There was nothing to say, really. She knew Dess was right about everything. She'd never seen her this upset, and there was nothing she could do, no balm she could offer, to help.

After a long pause between them, Hannah ventured, "What would be better than the best outcome you can hope for? Hypothetically."

Dess closed her eyes and sighed. "There's no chance for it, so it doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," she said. Then, more lightly, "Humor me."

She was quiet long enough that Hannah thought she was being obstinate. When she finally did speak, her words came much heavier than they had before. "I wanted to be a general, you know. I guess that's impossible now. But if I can't do that, I always thought of C-Sec as a good back up. It's not exploring the galaxy and fighting bad guys on unexplored planets, but it's still protecting people and I like it here. I like . . ." she trailed off and Hannah wondered what it was she liked. "I like it here," she repeated finally.

Dess reached for the bottle again, and Hannah pulled it out of her reach. She flicked her mandibles indignantly, but Hannah stopped her before she could protest. "I'm not saying no more. I'm saying no more right now. I give it five minutes before all that liquor you just inhaled hits you like a hammer, and I don't want you dying of alcohol poisoning the night before everything ends."

Dess huffed, but she didn't argue.

Hannah set the bottle down again and took both of the turian's hands in her own. Dess twitched her mandibles slowly and at an unreadable angle, a low rumble emanating from her chest, but Hannah pressed on. She couldn't let Dess remain in this state. "I don't know how to fix this, but I'm going to try. I promise."