CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Conflict
It was late evening, by Alliance Standard Time, before the Orlanis and her team finished loading their gear, as well as an extra stock of supplies, and they were able to get underway. Kara would have preferred an earlier departure time, but a few extra hours would matter little to the STG team they were going to rescue. They would have to hold out for twelve days, while the Normandy traversed half the galaxy, at speed in excess of four hundred light-years per hour. No matter how fast one could travel, there were always times when it felt too slow.
On the more positive side, the delay gave her time to assess her new squad. Orlanis herself filled an assault role, wearing mid-weight armor and carrying an assault rifle. She had served fifteen years in the turian military, much of which had been spent as part of a special ops teams operating in the Terminus Systems. She had taken her discharge option five years ago, transferring smoothly to her current position in CSec. Since then, she had rarely been called to serve more than twice a year, for hostage rescue missions or raids to bring in big targets.
Lixandris Tacallus was the team's infiltrator and tech specialist, and a proficient sniper who was just as comfortable wading into the fray head-on. Orlanis had inherited him from a previous response team commander. His military career had ended with a dishonorable discharge after a tour fighting rebels on one of their colonies. Normally, that would mean the end of any ambitions a turian had. In his case, however, it had come with a recommendation to CSec, which suggested some sort of deal.
The other eturi, Valaris Marasus, provided the team with heavy firepower. He had been assigned to the peacekeeping force that kept watch over the krogan homeworld of Tuchanka, twenty years ago, where he had lost an arm in a skirmish with an upstart clan. For his role in the battle, he had received several honors from the Hierarchy, and a top-of-the-line biosynthetic arm.
The fourth turian, Auran Actus, had some limited biotic abilities, which she used to augment the pistol she preferred for close-quarters combat, though she favored longer range and her high-accuracy assault rifle. Her recommendation to CSec had been signed by Orlanis, so they might have worked together in the Terminus Systems, where the younger eture had served in one of the region's many mercenary groups.
Yana Rasal was the team's second in command, and often the first through the door during a raid. She favored heavy armor and inaccurate SMGs in combat, which she supplemented with her well-trained biotics, making her ideal for holding off an enemy while the rest of the team sought better tactical positioning. She had a good tactical mind, which she had put to use with the Illium police, until she was accused of murdering a vol narcotics merchant by pushing him off a balcony. According to her file, the police investigators had ignore evidence which incriminated one of the vol's more powerful rivals.
The last team member, Kaliran Sallar, was a two-hundred and fifty year old asari commando, who had served almost a century in the Republican Defense Force. She acted primarily as biotic support, and carried a shotgun alongside her assault rifle.
Most of them, she imagined, were not at all happy with the sudden change in their assignment. CSec worked with the customs and police organizations of Council and associate races on interspecies crime, but expected their partners to provide tactical support. Orlanis' team had never left the Citadel for one of their missions, and even the best trained and armed force they'd gone up against could not compete with the geth.
A solid knock on the door. She turned away from her desk, and rose to tap the controls. "Come in, Orlanis," she said, smiling at her guest, and stepping out of the way. "Sit."
Orlanis accepted the chair, while Kara sat on the bed. Another meter of space along the port hull, she thought, and the room would have fit another chair, for a slightly less informal conversation. Considering it was one of the few places she could consistently find privacy, it would've been nice. "Are you going to explain what this is about, Shepard? I hate working in the dark."
"We're providing aid to an STG team on a remote garden world. I expect our opposition to be mainly geth, with support from krogan mercenaries. We'll sort out any further objectives when we arrive."
"That's not much to go on," Orlanis snorted.
Kara shrugged. "No, but that's the life of Spectre. You go in hot, and work things out on the ground. The STG should be able to provide us with more information when we arrive."
"Geth. I assume this has something to do with the attack on Eden Prime, and with Garrus here, it must involve Saren, as well," the turian said. Her eyes had a deep golden color, fixed steadily on Kara's. "Am I right?"
"Yes. I expect our goal will include information gathering, and destruction of Saren's facilities. If he's present, I will attempt to capture him."
"Now tell me why I should trust you to lead us," Orlanis demanded.
Kara sighed. She had rarely heard a more impossible request, but perhaps that was an asari attitude. Humans trusted words, often too easily; and turians trusted the chain of command. Certainly she had no other answer to give. "What kind of answer would you accept?"
Orlanis stared at her, clearly not impressed.
"Because you were ordered to?" she tried.
"That is a turian answer; you are not," came Orlanis' dismissive reply. She was not entirely correct. Orders had justified their share of crimes on Earth, just as they had on Palaven.
"Because I told you to?"
Orlanis' expression darkened. "Do you take me for a fool?"
"I think you take me for one," Kara said quietly. "We both know that nothing I say here will make you trust me."
"I need to know you won't sacrifice my team to save your worthless marines, like that sorry excuse for an officer Harken tried to do. Pallin would have had him spaced, if not for that odious ambassador of yours whining to the Council about how important he was."
"Ah," Kara muttered. A run-in with humanity's corrupt CSec officer, and Udina's embarrassing defense of him, would damage anyone's opinion of her species. He had represented them to the Citadel's residents for a score of years, and though he was gone now, it was far too late. "I met him."
"I heard," Orlanis responded, her tone approving for once.
Kara wondered how far news of that incident had gotten. If Harken's reputation was as widespread as rumor made it, half the station had probably heard by now. "My service record is in the Normandy's computer," she said, linking to and sending the file from her omnitool. "It might answer some of your doubts."
"I'll look through it," the turian agreed, accepting the transfer, and browsing through it on her own device's holographic display.
Kara leaned forward, recapturing Orlanis' attention. "I'd rather have your cooperation than your obedience, Orlanis. When we get to Virmire, you'll be fully included in all tactical decisions. Until then, I'd like you to take over as marine commander from Lieutenant Alenko."
Orlanis nodded, her short crests reflecting the overhead light. She knew her team better than anyone else, and it only made sense for her to direct their use. "I'll make sure we're ready for anything, Captain," she said, standing and opening the door.
The turians were a beautiful species, tall and swift, bright-eyed, their hard crests like crowns; but not attractive to Kara's human sensibilities. Their militaristic culture had many similarities to the worst periods of Earth history, but they lacked the tolerance for torture and war profiteering that had characterized every human empire. However, they had even less concern for civilian casualties.
"Call me Kara, Orlanis."
Kara found Ashley in the mess, the following morning, after third watch had come off shift and cleared out. The former petty officer sat alone, at the end of the long table.
"Ash," Kara began quietly, as she sat down across from the marine. "Why are you here?"
"Ma'am?" Williams asked, looking up from her drink. Her eyes had a hollow look that was deeply familiar, like the ghosts of her dead squad haunted her dreams. That would also explain the tiredness that made her dull expression hang on her face.
"How are you feeling?" Kara tried. It was a better place to start from, anyway.
"Like hell, sir."
As an answer, it had the benefit of succinctness. Kara let the silence between them grow, hoping Ashley would choose to fill it without more prompting.
The black-haired marine straightened in her chair, and frowned faintly. "You must have known that the Alliance wouldn't just let us go back to our careers. God knows, I should have. I called Captain Anderson after you put us off the ship, told him what was going on. We were put under guard in a storage room, with nothing to do and no news, while they scrambled a response team. We were for about six hours, before the captain showed up. He told us that you'd escaped with the Normandy, and that Admiral Hackett had ordered us brought to Arcturus Station for a hearing, and possible formal charges.
"I think I knew right then that my career was over, but that was too much to take. They loaded us aboard the Yangon, where we were allowed the use of the crew areas. One of the noncoms had a still set up, and she was willing to share her product, for a price. I had already tried prayer, and I didn't want to think, so…"
Kara sighed. When she had taken up the position of first officer aboard the Kyoto, one of her first acts had been the elimination of an illicit still. The man she replaced had known of it, but looked the other way, possible for a share of its product. She had also made it clear that anyone caught distilling alcohol would be confined to the brig until they could be transferred off the ship. The contrast with her typically casual approach to discipline had made her point surprisingly well. There were few other drugs that could take a person down so quickly, and none of them were as socially acceptable, or even legal. "Go on."
"When we got to Arcturus Station, they started to 'interview' us. Captain Anderson said they didn't have a case, and you could kind of see it from their questions. I don't recall that they even asked me why I didn't fight you; they were more interested in your alien allies, and what your plans were. They implied that you were crazy, or in contact with the batarians. It didn't make much sense—I mean, shit, they were the ones who pushed to get you made a Spectre. Yeah, so you proved they were a bit blind, but that'd be over the damn top incompetent.
"Things really fell apart for me when the hearings started. 'The Second Williams' Surrender'. Shit." The marine gazed down at her coffee, as though wishing it was something else. "Captain Anderson tried to defend us, but that just convinced the prosecutor to go after him as well. About how he should never have let you back on the ship, after you resigned, and that he shouldn't have let you bring aliens aboard. Even that he should never have left the ship. They even accused him of deliberate messing up on some old mission with Saren. Stupid shit, really.
"Anyway, they finally pinned the loss of the Eden Prime garrison on me, and told me I could either take a quiet dishonorable discharge, or a public court martial. I couldn't stand to disgrace my family like that, so I went quietly. My father always said that a Williams had to perform at a hundred and ten percent, and dammit, I tried, but… shit."
"I'm sorry, Ash," Kara said. She had underestimated the Alliance's response, but in a way it made sense. Whether one accepted the legality of her actions or not, it could easily be seen as a high profile act of mutiny. As they could not punish her, they settled for an equally high profile lynching of the people who had failed to prevent it.
Ashley snorted, bitterly. "No you're not."
Kara had her hand on the marine's, squeezing firmly. She had offered her crew a difficult choice, and held no grudge against those that refused to join her. Certain she had no desire to see their lives ruined. At the same time, she should have seen that General Williams' granddaughter would be vulnerable to charges of surrendering to alien authority.
The young woman looked up, her brown eyes meeting Kara's. "You are. Shit. I'm sorry," she sighed, her gaze dropping again. "My dad always said I'd break the Williams' curse. He was a good man, and I'm glad he didn't live to see me disappoint him."
"So what were you doing on the Citadel?" Kara asked. Parents and their expectations were always an uncomfortable subject for her, and she was happy to change it.
"The nightmares came back after I resigned," Ashley said, her voice weak as she gripped her cup with desperate firmness. "I'd see the broken bodies of my men, and they'd accuse me of surrendering to the geth…"
"Ash, look at me," Kara commanded. The marine's eyes rose, shimmering with unshed tears. It was easy to see survival as a sign of failure, even when those around you were full of praise. Kara had fought on at Elysium, even after her entire squad had died, and all she could think of, when the battle had ended, was her failure to save them. "You did the right thing, just like your grandfather. His surrender saved a hundred thousand lives. Your survival helped me save Eden Prime. It isn't much comfort, but you have to believe it."
Ashley nodded. "I'll try, sir."
"We're not military, Ash. Use my name."
"Yes, sir. Kara. Sorry," the marine muttered, wiping the moisture from her eyes. "Captain Anderson came to see me a few days later. I'd been drunk most of the time, and could see that he knew it, but I felt like he understood. We talked for a bit, and he mentioned that the Normandy was on its way back to the Citadel.
"I took the first transport I could find. I felt like… like maybe everything that happened was God's way of telling me that I should have stuck with you. I guess that sounds silly to you, but I'm a soldier. It's the only thing I know how to do. If I can prove myself to you, maybe I can bear to face my mother and sisters again. I know you don't have much reason to trust me, Kara, but—"
"Ash," Kara interrupted, smiling warming. "It's fine. Welcome back."
Ashley's tense expression eased, a faint smile turning the corners of her mouth. "Thank you, sir. I thought you'd throw me in the brig."
"We don't have a brig. I could try locking you in a sleeper pod," Kara said dryly.
"Sir? Kara. I'm sorry, Kara."
"That's better," Kara smiled. "You've been through enough. You don't need me doubting you."
"Thank you. I'll be ready whenever you need me," Ashley said, rising to her feet.
Kara leaned back in her chair. "Orlanis is in command of the Normandy's marine contingent. You'll report to her."
"The turian female, right?" Ashley asked, briefly checking over her appearance.
"There's two," Kara nodded. "She's the one with the golden eyes."
"I… look forward to seeing what she can teach me."
Silence. Kara breathed it in with the air, her thoughts empty as her mind and body worked as a unified whole through the vanan ithal; the foundation. They basic forms through which many young asari learned to control their bodies and their biotics, and formed the basis for their martial arts. She found them relaxing, a diversion, always necessary on a crowded ship. They were also good exercise.
The Normandy was almost twenty-eight hours out from the Citadel, putting ship time at around twenty-two hundred. Those crew who weren't currently on duty or asleep were relaxing in whatever way they could, as they awaited their turn in the sleeper pods that took the place of bunks. The training room was empty, except for her.
She heard the door open, a quiet hum of hydraulics and motors. She recognized the steady footfalls that crossed the floor in their officer's boots. She did not react as they paused, half a meter from her, spread in a combat stance. She didn't want this, not now. Not ever.
Forcing herself to stay calm, Kara carried her movements through to their conclusion and paused for a deep breath before opening her eyes.
Brynja's expression was mixed. Her blue eyes held pain, while her set jaw and the flat line of her lips showed anger. She held her posture awkwardly, as someone who had trained, but never took the time to excel.
Kara adopted a defensive posture, turning aside the blond's punches without retaliating. They were formulaic, precise, enhancing her impression of the fight as a choreographed dance. "You're angry. Why?"
"You don't know?" Brynja demanded, still pressing her attack.
Kara frowned. She was beginning to, and it worried her. "I'm asking."
"Fuck you," Brynja snapped.
The outburst was as much frustration as anger, Kara guessed, but it still surprised her. Brynja took advantage of the opening, executing a throw that laid her out on her back. She should have anticipated the move. She rolled to her feet.
"I'm not guessing, Brynja. Tell me."
Brynja dropped her arms, and turned away. "I had this silly idea that you were interested in me, but you didn't even notice me, did you?"
No, she hadn't, but she hadn't wanted to, and that could have a powerful influence on perceptions. Even thinking back she could see the details, and make the connections she had missed, or explained away as mere friendliness. She had unconsciously avoided doing so, and her own actions, in response, were too unguarded, encouraging the younger woman. Maybe she should have practiced a captain's aloofness, instead of trying to be friendly. "Brynja, I can't. You know that."
Brynja laughed, bitterly. "If I were purple, I'd be in your bed by now."
Kara narrowed her eyes angrily. The implications were infuriating, and contradicted by the distance she had kept Liara at. As for Elessa… "Who I chose to sleep with is not your business," she stated flatly. "Stay out of it."
"I'm sorry, Kara," the blond said, shuffling awkwardly and staring at her fleet. "You're right, and I'm just… bad at this. But I thought I was getting close to you."
Kara sighed, her anger fading. Yes, they had gotten close, and under different circumstances she might have welcome a romance. "Do you think this is easy for me, Brynja? To know that Liara, and now you, want something from me that I can't let myself give?"
"Why not? You trust me with your life every day. Why can't you trust me to share it?" Brynja pressed.
The Alliance's policy on fraternization was not in place just to protect senior officers from compromising their judgement. It also protected junior officers and crew from abuse by their superiors. A captain's authority had to stop somewhere, and certainly did not include the right to rape her crew.
Of course, Kara knew that she sometimes wanted too much from her partners, and had always respected their right to refuse. Despite the regulations, she had seen women and men who felt violated by superior officers, but feared to exercise that right. Right now, they were cut off from any higher authority, and that made it even more important for her to restrain herself. "I trust you, Brynja. I don't trust myself."
"Well, fine. Forget it," Brynja snorted. She started to turn away, but stopped. When she spoke again, her voice was sharply angry. "Well, no. It is me you don't trust, because no silly young ensign could possibly resist the charms of the great Kara Shepard. If I think you're brilliant and amazing and beautiful, it can only be because of some special charisma, not because you are all those things."
She shook her head. "Maybe you're just the most brilliant fool I've ever met," she continued, her voice less harsh, but more cutting, "I don't know. Maybe you're just a self-righteous ass. I do know that if you really trusted me, you'd give me an answer. 'Yes, Brynja, I like you. Let's give it a try.' Even, 'I'm just not interested,' would be honest. You won't even give me that, just some cowardly, foolish gibberish about not trusting yourself."
"I…" Kara hesitated, feeling more uncertain than she had in years, and wounded too. Hiding in the dark; but Kara Shepard never hid from anything. She studied it, understood it, and faced it down.
Brynja was undoubtedly brilliant, the best in her class, and not easily intimidated. A boldness that hinted, through her stories, at conquered introversion. She might reach, unthinking, for what she wanted, as much out of fear of lost opportunity than any deeper feeling. Lúcía represented a lost chance that Brynja would never stop regretting. Now, between the sight of Kara with Elessa, and her fear of Liara's intentions, she must have seen another chance slipping away, and rushed to take it.
Kara took a deep breath. "I do trust you, Brynja, and you're right; I am afraid. And I do like you, but I'm running a frigate with half-crew. I spend my days reading reports, and help out with basic maintenance during my spare time. In just over a week, I may have to infiltrate a geth base with the help of a turian officer who doesn't trust humans, and an STG captain who won't trust me either. I can't deal with more right now. What I need from you is friendship, not romance. Is that really asking too much?"
The young blond hunched her shoulders, her eyes falling. "No. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Kara smiled softly, raising Brynja's chin with gentle fingers. "Not for being honest."
Kara smiled as Liara set a steaming mug down on the table in front of her, then wordlessly sat in the next chair, with a mug of her own. After six days, this was becoming a ritual; she would sit in the mess, studying reports from the STG teams that were constantly scouring the galaxy for threats to the Council, or more profiles from the group still trapped on Virmire, and the asari scientist would bring her tea, and sit with her.
Occasionally, as they sat in silence, the Liara offered some interesting piece of information recovered from some prothean—or pre-prothean—ruins, and suggesting interpretations that supported her theories. The day before, she had asked questions about Alliance culture, instead. Kara wondered if she had confessed her attraction to Ilya, and perhaps gotten some advice, or if this new approach was entirely her idea. She found time to improve her wardrobe, at least, trading her borrowed military clothing for a long sleeved shirt, a creamy off-white color. A pair of silvery clasps held it closed at the neck.
Trading her tablet for the tea, she turned to study Liara's elegant profile. She did understand what it meant, when a person's company made her feel as she did. Vaguely warm, and distracted from her work. Unfocused. The reports didn't matter, not really—what could she expect to find in them that the STG couldn't—but she needed focus. Discipline.
Idly, and still staring at her tablet, Liara reached out for her cup of tea, closing her firm hand around it. Soft, blue skin. Noticing Kara's scrutiny, she turned her head and smiled, shyly.
Not shyly. Warmly, Kara decided, her own lips responding in kind. Unbidden, she recalled her conversation with Brynja. She didn't have time for this, and couldn't afford the distraction.
"Captain, do you have a moment?"
Kara forced her attention back to the present. "Of course, Kaidan."
"In private?" he suggested, scratching at his face. They had not spoken much since the incident on Edolus, except for her brief explanation for replacing him, as marine commander, with Orlanis.
Kara rose to her feet, taking her tablet with her, and motioned for him to follow her to her cabin. Once inside, she closed the door behind him, and leaned against the frame.
"Sir, I have a personal question I need an answer to," he said, facing her with his usual calm demeanor. She couldn't promise an answer, and made no move to approve, but he continued anyway. "When did you train with the asari?"
"What makes you think I did?" she asked. She could think of enough clues off-hand to realize that denial would be pointless, but the instinct was too strong to ignore entirely.
"Lots of things, but seeing Liara and Kaliran face off is when I put things together. You all have the same fighting style."
Kara brushed her fingers through her hair as she walked past the marine, taking her usual place on the edge of her bed. "You're right," she said. If she were to be truly precise, though, Kaliran's biotic techniques were more aggressive than hers, though the physical forms were similar. She might have put the difference down to superior skill alone, had she not tested the asari herself.
"So, when did you train?" Kaidan repeated, cautiously, as if he expected it to annoy her.
"Whenever I could," she replied. Despite the propaganda, there were other option for biotics who chose to forgo the official program. Only their cost restricted their accessibility. "Does it really matter?"
Kaidan sat, straight and calm, at her desk, resting at arm on its smooth surface. "No," he acknowledged, frowning slightly. "And yes. I think you learned more from them than some biotic martial arts."
Surely he did not mean language and culture. No, she felt certain that he was attempting to broach some difficult or uncertain subject. "If you're coming to some sort of point, Kaidan, you may as well skip to it."
The biotic marine scowled at her. "That's just the sort of response that makes me feel like you're hiding something. That makes me question where this mission is going."
Meaning that he was concerned about her doing further damage to the Alliance? "I'm not going to cover for the Alliance, Kaidan," she sighed. Not that she expected to uncover any of their secrets in the pursuit of Saren, or to actively pursue anything outside that mission.
"That's not…" what he was saying? His scowl deepened. "It's more like… you don't think much of us. Or you're too impressed by the Council to care."
"Is it a sign of respect to protect them from the truth?" Kara asked sharply. People could not make informed decisions based on lies—that was a core principle of the Systems Alliance, and democracies in general.
Kaidan's head lowered, his hand rising again to rub his face, while he considered her point. It was, admittedly, an old argument, usually countered by an appeal to authority, or the invocation of an inflated threat. She did not believe they would sit well with him, after what he had seen and endured at BAaT. "No, but if you accept that a government has a right to keep legitimate secrets, then maybe it's that you seem high-handed. Or self-righteous."
"Even if I accepted that, Kaidan, I still have to choose. Should I ignore evidence of collaboration with Cerberus because it might harm an MP? The Defense Committee? Admiral Hackett? Who is too important to lose? Or because it harms our relationship to the Council? The only answer I can justify is 'no'."
"I guess I can't stop you," he sighed. "Maybe you're even right. I've got to think about this."
The marine stood, and Kara rose with him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "As long as you act in good conscience, Kaidan," she said, softly, "we don't have a problem."
"Shepard," Wrex demanded angrily. "Get her off of me."
The krogan Battlemaster struggled impotently against the powerful biotics of Kaliran Sallar. Wrex usually kept his temper in check, preferring angry bluster to the real thing when it could get him the same result, but the unresolved tensions between his people and the turians had always been a potential problem. She only wished he had better timing, as they were close to Virmire and had little time for resolution. "I'll see to him, Kaliran. Why don't you check on Auran."
The well-trained asari commando nodded, releasing the Krogan, though she did not turn her back on him as she left the training room. The turian female had already been removed to sickbay, her injuries reported as being mild.
Kara sighed, and fixed the Wrex with a tired stare. "Well?"
"I told you about my father, Shepard. He tried to kill me because I saw what the Genophage had done to our people, and I saw what we had to do to beat it. We had to win back hope, but instead we were abandoning it, wasting our lives as mercenaries in other peoples' battles. We could have rebuilt our world, instead, and found some way to keep our numbers up.
"You know I killed my father after he betrayed me. My followers were dead, and his were after my head, but my grandfather took me aside. He said he'd get me passage off-world if I pledged to recover our family armor. It's archaic crap by now, but it's ours. I've been tracking it through the years, until it found its way into the possession of a turian named Tonn Actus. He's scum, a pirate and a profiteer who collects artifacts from the Krogan Rebellions. Artifacts stolen from my people."
Wrex had, Kara assumed, concluded that Auran Actus was a relative of Tonn Actus. The turian's file might have that information, but she had been more concerned with skill and attitude than heritage, and could not confirm it. "That's hardly a reason to assault Auran."
"She's his daughter."
Kara frowned. "Find a better reason."
"She knows where he's hiding," Wrex growled.
"That's no excuse. You can either put aside your vendetta, or get off my ship. I don't have time for it," Kara stated, staring at him coldly.
"Fine, Shepard," Wrex muttered, shaking his wide head. Where the turians were tall and predatory, Krogan were squat and defensive, though with their bulk that still left them as tall as the average human, with the side-set eyes characteristic of prey-species on Earth. Life on their homeworld of Tuchanka was, they claimed, a constant struggle, but little evidence had survived the destruction of their world by the pointless fury of nuclear war. "I'll beat it out of her after we stop Saren."
"Take some advice, Wrex," Kara sighed. "Try diplomacy. This proclivity toward endless posturing has never helped your people."
Wrex laughed. "You really think she'd help a krogan? Against her own father?"
"You won't find out using threats," Kara pointed out. "Would it be so bad if you didn't have to kill anyone, or is that not the krogan way?"
"You can be an insulting pyjak, Shepard. You're lucky I'm so forgiving," he growled.
Kara shrugged. "You can't intimidate me. Try something different."
"Dammit, Shepard, fine. I'll try it your way," Wrex grumbled, "but it had better work."
"Good," Kara smiled. "Let me know if you need my help."
Note: The conversation with Kaidan is new, though it didn't veered more into Keyx's turf than I intended. I think he's been the biggest beneficiary of this rewrite. Ashley and Brynja traded places, and I think they saw the biggest changes. Wrex came out almost unscathed.
I hope you're enjoying the story.