Present: 217 Years Post War
The meld faded, Irie still holding him, with her head rested against his chest. Evik chuckled a little.
"I couldn't blame her," he said. "Given everything, I was grateful to only be greeted with a fist, and not a gun."
"Bába never would have shot you, Evik," she said, holding her arms around his waist and lifting her head enough to look in his eyes.
"No?" he smiled, showing he was teasing a little. "Our little 'vacation' sure had me wondering, sometimes."
After Del had calmed down and emerged from the bedroom she had been civil…incredibly stiff, but civil nonetheless, apologizing for having hit him. Still, that evening had been one of the longest and most tense of Irie's life…and it was not soothed when, out of the blue, Shepard had 'invited' Evik on a little getaway.
It was an invite only loosely defined as such simply because she'd actually used the word 'invite.' Everyone there knew it was less a request and more an order. Just Shepard, Evik, and two days in the wilderness on Sur'Kesh.
She wanted to get to know her future son-in-law, she said. The several rifles that she packed in their small transport when they prepared to depart had not done much to soothe Irie's worry- nor did the fact that they were not home at their appointed time.
When they did come back, it was to the hospital. Evik was in surgery, his leg broken quite badly in two places. Del was in the waiting room when Irie and Liara arrived, battered and filthy and grinning widely, a dark bruise on her forehead and a cigar in her hand.
It seemed that their little getaway had not gone as planned. Sur'Kesh had vast tracts of pristine wilderness that Del had tromped through more than once. She knew the lay of the land, which plants were edible (they had brought rations but one could never be too careful), and what to watch out for.
What she hadn't been banking on was a massive earthquake.
Twenty four hours in, things were still tense between the human hero and the young batarian. Even so, Evik had just started to realize Del was not actually going to shoot him in the back and bury him in a shallow grave somewhere no one would ever find him- and unless he was totally insane, it even seemed she was warming up to him a little. Clearly, she was very protective over Irie- which was understandable. His species seemed just a slightly larger hiccup to overcome.
Still, he had faith. How many times had Irie told him that Shepard was not a hateful person, that she judged someone on their merits and not on the form in which they had been born? She had very good reasons to mistrust batarians, but she had also had very good reasons to mistrust the geth, yet had managed to befriend one and help the entire Consensus. Shepard might struggle with it, but in the end she would come to see Evik for Evik, and Irie had no doubt she would recognize the good, strong, and kind young man that he was.
The earthquake came as they crossed a ridge of rocky hills. Evik barely remembered it, coming to a woozy consciousness to find himself at the edge of a landslide, his leg badly broken, a fractured arm, and his omni-tool destroyed. With no sight or sound of Del anywhere in the vicinity, he managed to pull himself up to a higher vantage, climbing up a slope of broken rock and gravel over the space of two hours, trying to find her.
She was not as injured as he had been, and had come down on the other side of the ridge. When she'd finally found him he was still trying weakly to climb, and was half-delirious with exhaustion and pain. As she reached his side and looked at his leg, her attempt to shift it caused him to bellow in pain and slap her upside the head with his good arm. It was a pure reflex action, but the pair stared at each other in mutual shock in the wake of it.
"Just stay still," she finally told him, breaking the silence. "I'm not going to be the one to explain to my daughter why her future bondmate lost his goddamn leg."
"Oh, so you approve of me now?" he asked, exhaustion and pain making him more bitter than normally he would be.
"What's not to approve of?" she asked him with a grin. "You're a stubborn fuck with a hell of a lot of balls just coming out here to the edge of nowhere with me. Welcome to the family. Now hold still."
And that, as they said, was that. Despite his species, Shepard had regarded him as a friend from that moment on. By the time Irie and he were actually bonded, she had begun to view him as a son, and admitted as much to him during the reception.
He had been unable to come with Irie to see her before she passed, a guilty addition to the grief he now felt at her demise. Still, he had to be strong for Irie's sake. She needed him, and alive or dead, Del Shepard would never forgive him if he let her Little Nub down.
Melara had left the quarters they'd been given in search of her own much needed escape. Two hours after she'd been directed toward the small but well-stocked gym, she quietly returned , oiled with sweat, to find Irie alone in the main area. Her elder sister stood in an open door that lead to a wide veranda, leaning on the frame and singing softly to herself.
The asari had several hundred different laments that were traditionally sung at a Sending, each with its own meaning and history. Some laments mourned mothers. Some fathers. Some beloved sisters, and some children. Some mourned Justicars. Those who lived their lives for knowledge had a lament. Those who pursued medicine, or philosophy, had a lament. Those who fell in battle had a lament.
Most laments were ancient. Some were fairly modern. There was one lament that was older than most in memory, a song that was well known to the High Priestesses of Athame and the devotees of the Philosphy of Udesta. It had only been sung in ceremony once, for the slain Eriad Cantola. The first of the Justicars, Eriad had penned their Code, devoting her life eternally to the pursuit of justice.
She had grown under the watchful eye of Aswa V'Dess, the ruthless conqueror who had ruled nearly all of Thessia in her prime. She was raised from a young maiden to one of V'Dess's elite- devoted to philosophy, logic, and the deadly arts of war.
Though the family lines of Aswa's living children, both mothered and fathered by her, were well documented, there were several Houses who believed the line of J'Faine descended from the blood of Cantola and V'Dess. The legend said that V'Dess fathered Nirki J'Faine unwittingly via ufete with Cantola. A rare happenstance of biology, the ufete was the only method under which an asari could become impregnated involuntarily, and it only happened when the Joining was between a very powerful, older asari and a young maiden.
Now understood to be an evolutionary quirk, in V'Dess's time a child conceived of an ufete was considered blessed of the Goddess, destined for greatness. Though no asari living nowadays believed in such a thing, there was still a bit of awe and mythical prestige that surrounded known lines or children produced by ufete.
The story went on to say that- finding herself pregnant with V'Dess's child and worried that the rising rebellion would seek to slay all of Aswa's heirs- Cantola fled to a remote village outside of Aswa's conquered lands. There, Nirki was born, given the false name of J'Faine to protect her, and delivered to others to raise. After Aswa was killed, Eriad sought vengeance and soon became consumed by it. Recognizing what she had become, she penned the Code and devoted the remainder of her life to nothing more than seeking the purity of justice. She taught others her Code, and when she passed on, she left the enduring legacy of the Justicars behind her.
Though her vengeance had been terrible, her Code and her subsequent work to restore justice to a world torn apart by the loss of the iron hand holding it tight, had allowed Thessia to recover and move along a path of enlightenment and knowledge that would last for generations.
The lament had been sung at her Sending, penned and sung by her Justicar sisters as her body had been given to the seas. Since that time, no other soul had been deemed worthy enough of its particular notes.
Until now.
The Priestesses of the Temple, the Assembled Matriarchs, and the Justicars Order had responded with swiftness to Irie's petition. She had requested permission to use the lament to mourn her father's passing. Normally such a request would be met with weeks of research and deep discussion- and invariably, after such a process, the answer would be 'no'. This time, when they heard the lament would be for Del Shepard, there was no pause, no discussion, and no question.
What Cantola had done was a deed far beyond herself. Borne from grief and selfless repentance, her actions rippled through the ages to resonate even now, beating with the heart of every Justicar that lived, echoing through millennia of knowledge, peace, and advancement.
What Shepard had done had, as well, spread far beyond the desperate actions of a single, brave soldier. The ripples of her fight would resound even a thousand asari generations beyond the present day. Her legends, as those of V'Dess and Cantola, would be told long eons after the rest of them had turned to dust. Though she was not asari, she was their savior, and had made herself of their blood, given them her honored name through her younger daughter. Irie had barely had to wait a full solar day for their response, and permission was honorably and unanimously granted.
Now, standing alone in the living area, looking out on the brilliant colors surrounding Sol's slow descent below the horizon, she faintly sang the sad notes of the lament, practicing for the coming morning.
Hearing it, Mel stood unnoticed only a few feet away, head lowered and eyes distant as she listened. When Irie trailed off, and then turned sharply, Mel stiffened a little, surprised by the abrupt motion.
Irie's wide eyes immediately grew gloss as her shoulders sagged a little, one hand pressing lightly to her chest. "Oh…Melara. I am sorry, you...have you been smoking?"
Mel felt her cheeks heat a little, and idly used the small towel around her neck to mop at her face. "Yeah…a bit."
"I was unaware you smoked." She knew that smell like the back of her hand. "Bába's cigars?"
Her younger sister said nothing, turning away and crossing toward a far door. Irie watched her sadly. They all had their own ways of letting go, she supposed.
For a moment- a single foolish moment, when that smell had brushed past her- Irie had imagined that Del stood behind her, about to reach out and put her hand on her shoulder.
I'm so proud of you, Little Blue.
"I am going to get a shower," Melara said as she walked away, gripping the small towel tightly in one hand. "Dae and the others should be here soon."
Irie watched her vanish into the bathroom, then lowered her head, covering her eyes with a shaking hand.
Past: 15 Years Post War
The Normandy rested on the tarmac at Sao Miguel Paulista, the night defied by floodlights. As the cargo door lowered, Ashley walked down the ramp, eyeing the waiting group. There were several MPs, two corporals in full hard-suits and weapons (one of which, she noted, seemed no bigger than a child), and a blonde civilian woman clutching a data pad.
"What's going on?" Ashley asked as she reached level ground. "Where's Shepard?"
"Captain, N1 Corporal Anne Lane," the tiny marine said, saluting with a snap before she gestured at her companions. "This is N1 Corporal Ruijie Fu, and Dr. Jane Sundby."
"You're the one I'm escorting to the Anadius research base," Ashley stated, looking at the blonde.
"Colonel Shepard regrets she cannot be here, Captain," Lane continued before the blonde could reply. "We were ordered to debrief you nowhere but safely aboard the Normandy."
Ashley hid her concern as she nodded. Liara had told her little when requesting the Normandy's help. She had assumed Del would be there to meet her and explain what was going on, but it didn't seem that was to be the case. Gesturing the three on board, she followed on their heels.
Apparently Sundby had never been on a frigate before- or perhaps it was the Normandy's famous name that had her enthralled. Whatever the case, the civilian doctor was staring around the bay as she walked, the two marines staying stiffly at her elbows.
Ash's eyes narrowed. She knew a security detail when she saw one. The two N1 recruits- Del's trainees- were either guarding Sundby against threat…or they were guarding others against a threat she posed.
A civilian doctor on a frigate, surrounded by trained marines and captained by a Spectre? No, it took no leap of logic to deduce that their purpose was to keep the doctor safe, and not because of any danger that may come from Sundby herself.
Don't be so quick to judge, Ash, she thought. Osco was a scientist. Allers was a reporter. Both caused more than a small amount of harm to those around them.
Still, if Sundby was a danger, then surely Del or even the N1s would have informed her of that before walking her right onto the Normandy?
They went up to the conference room, Ash's second in command joining them. James Vega looked carved out of stone, folding his arms as the door sealed. Almost immediately, Sundby plugged her data pad in to the conference table, and Del appeared.
The holograph was a recorded message, the Colonel standing an impressive two feet high in the center of the table.
Quickly, the image of Del outlined the situation, describing what Vasquez had said and their current conclusions. Then a few small planets appeared around her.
"These are the worlds where mineral rights have been requested," Del's image explained. "From what Liara has been able to discover so far, there's nothing particularly special or valuable about any of them. They hold no strategic location and do not promise any particular wealth of minerals. Certainly not any that would prompt trying to blackmail me with Tali's life in order to secure. Given Miranda's findings on Dr. Jevenar Kurat being one of the Orthrus mercs that attacked my daughter's recital, we're inclined to believe that whatever Orthrus's true goals are, they revolve around the research at the Anadius base."
Though this was pre-recorded, she gestured behind her exactly at the blonde. "This is Dr. Jane Sundby. She's a leading astrophysicist who was, until recently, working at a civilian facility in Bangladesh. She is a former colleague of Dr. Kurat. Liara has tried to access the research on Anadius base remotely, but it seems Dr. Kurat may have hidden some of his findings on a private, non-networked system. We have been able to glean few answers, and are unsure of the true situation there. She has the best chance of decrypting any private files he may have and interpreting his research. Barring that, she can look over any data pulled from the Anadius system and perhaps find us a link that way."
As she spoke, the image of Shepard tugged on her left ear, then drew a finger across her throat. Ashley lifted a brow, then gestured at Vega. Though the Normandy was one of the most secure vessels in existence, Shepard was clearly taking no chances. Wordlessly, Vega sent a message to EDI to ensure a complete record blackout of the conference room, including from her own monitoring surveillance, encrypted as it was. As soon as he got verification that the room was utterly secure, he nodded at Ash.
"Trusting that you have understood me," the Shepard recording said after a moment, "I will turn the remainder of this debrief over to Dr. Sundby."
The blonde civvie reached forward and deactivated the holograph. "Now," Sundby said calmly. "I can explain what we're really going to do."
"You have my cooperation, Vasquez," Shepard said, her face angry and set. "But I'm not inclined to believe you're just going to release Tali. I have no guarantees."
Kenneth grinned around his cigar, hands clasped behind his back as he bounced eagerly on his toes. "That's exactly right. You don't. And so long as you don't, you won't behave foolishly and risk the Admiral's life."
"For all I know, she's already dead…and I have no reason whatsoever to deal with you- no proof you even have this virus you're claiming."
"What are you proposing, Colonel?"
"We both know what this is really about, Vasquez. Not mineral rights, not some kind of galactic immunity. You want me. Fine. I'm done fucking around, and I want my friend safe. So, I'll tell you what. We're gonna trade, dong ma? Me for the quarian."
Kenneth leaned forward a little, interest clear on his face. "You would trade your own safety for hers?"
"In a goddamn heartbeat. If you don't know that already, Vasquez…you don't know a goddamn thing about me."
"How would that work, exactly?"
"Omega," Del told him. "Twenty four hours from now, in the Common. You got men in the shadows with snipers, I have the same. Tali and I walk right past each other…Tali goes home, and you have me. Anyone reneges and our snipers go to town."
"Omega!" Kenneth laughed. "Right in the nest of the Viper Queen? Oh, my dear…no. I think not."
"Then where?"
"The answer to that, Colonel, is hidden in the shadows of what I've already told you. Your wife is the Broker, is she not? Surely if she's worth her salt she can unravel these threads. If she finds the answer, be at that location at precisely…1400 local time tomorrow. We will surrender the admiral, and graciously accept you in exchange."
Dark eyes narrowed venomously. "And if we aren't there?"
"Then the admiral will…no longer be there, if you catch my meaning."
"You'd risk your only leverage?"
He laughed. "Hardly my only leverage, just my preferred one. If I am forced to kill the admiral, then we negotiate new terms- or your wife's name and…occupation…become public amongst a very dark crowd."
Shepard glared. He smiled.
"Find the location, and we'll see you at 1400 local time tomorrow. We'll have snipers. I so much as sniff a weapon on you or any resistance, and the quarian will be aired out from a thousand different directions. Further instructions will be available when you land. I suggest you follow them to the letter."
Shepard scowled, folding her arms as she thought. "Fine. Tomorrow, 1400. She had better be there, chun, and without a scratch on her…or I'll be pinning your skin on my wall."
Taking his cigar from his mouth, he ran a finger over his chin, the nail scratching lightly over thin stubble. He smiled. "I have no doubt. You know, I don't know why people are inclined to think you nothing but brutish. I have found you quite sensible indeed."
"Go fuck yourself, Vasquez."
He grinned. "I await tomorrow…as does Tali. Good evening…and good hunting, Colonel."
Reaching forward, he switched off the feed, the image of Shepard vanishing as he did so. Almost instantly his confident demeanor faded, and he took a series of deep, huffing draws on the cigar, swallowing nervously. Accessing another line, he looked up as another figure appeared etched in light in front of him.
"Well?"
"So far so good," he said, unable to keep a sycophantic whimper from his voice. "She's proposed the trade, precisely as we'd hoped. I gave her your response."
"Good. Our team will be there with the admiral."
"Are you sure they'll be able to figure it out? The location, I mean…"
"We have revealed precisely what we wished, leaving the proper clues hidden where an intellect of T'Soni's standards would easily discover them. They both know that the smallpox virus was a ruse- it was eradicated long before humans even discovered their relay. This has already made them suspicious. They also know you are not the power behind the quarian's disappearance, that this goes far beyond mere mineral rights or leverage for extortion. You have given her the final clue. She will look to those useless worlds again. She will find her answer…the second moon of Araxis, where we shall have our rendezvous tomorrow."
"Shepard will come, but she is clever, cunning. She won't just give up and trade herself. A…a fleet. She'll bring a fleet…she could eradicate your forces without-"
"If she thinks Shideh is there, she will not bombard it from orbit. She cannot fight her own nature, murder her friend. There will be a trade for Tali'Shideh."
The image seemed to pulse a moment eagerly.
"Iovino will come."