A/N: Back from my vacation and what a lovely vacation it was (the weather could have been nicer, but oh well!). Special props to all the readers in the UK and particularly around the Peak District - you guys are the best. And you have the best pubs. :)

Now, onwards with the story! Please enjoy this latest chapter, while I catch up on all the stories posted in my absence. I see I have my hands full with that. :D

Chapter 30 - Before Departure

The low, persistent hum in the forward battery is somehow comforting, and Shepard is starting to understand just why Garrus likes to hang out there so very often. That, and big guns. And calibrations... can't live without calibrations.

"I wish Tim would just hurry up and get some intel for us at last," Shepard moans for what must be the tenth time already, dying of boredom.

"I've never seen anyone so eager to head into a suicide mission," Garrus chuckles, stopping his work on the consoles and giving her an amused stare.

"You know what I mean," Morgan sighs. "I just want to be done with it, for better or worse. So that we can all get back to normal liv-... ah fuck, we don't have normal lives to go back to, do we?"

Garrus laughs. "I don't even know what that means, Shepard." He grows a little thoughtful. "Listen, I never did properly thank you for helping me with Sidonis." Shepard just nods, acknowledging his gratitude. "I... must confess, at some point I thought you were going to try to talk me out of it. Did you consider it?"

"I did, yeah." Garrus turns back towards her, silently urging her to elaborate. "I'm not sure, Garrus. I just... put myself in your place and asked myself what I would want. I wanted to shoot the guy. And so I let you."

"No longer worried about me becoming too ruthless, eh, Shepard?"

"The Reapers are coming, Garrus. I think soon enough we will all need to display a great deal of ruthlessness while trying to keep the galaxy from being exterminated," Morgan returns grimly. "Mercy is just not going to cut it against the Reapers."

"Collectors first, though," Garrus says.

"Yeah. Honestly, Garrus... what do you think our chances are?" she asks. "No bullshitting. Honest appraisal, no matter how pessimistic."

"I think we can do this, Shepard," Garrus says after a moment of thought. "But still, consider that we are venturing to an unmapped area, facing advanced tech and the Collectors. We're going to lose people, Commander. No way around that."

"Mrhm," Shepard mutters, not the analysis she wanted to hear. But painfully consistent with what I've thought myself. "Damn it. I already promised Liara that I'll be back. Hate breaking promises."

"You won't break that promise, Commander," Garrus tries to sound encouraging. He doesn't have a lot of practice at it and it shows. "T'Soni might get so pissed, she'd resurrect you herself, just to give you a piece of her mind."

Shepard manages a weak chuckle. That's what I'm afraid of most. If I die again, it might... break her. I can't do that to her. "Listen, if I don't make it Garrus, I want you to... no, fuck... that's kind of pointless. There wouldn't be anything you or anyone can really do to help her."

"Not in a way that really matters, no," Garrus agrees. "You're not going back to sulking are you now, Commander?"

"I blame this downtime, Garrus. There's just nothing to do..." she says, rising. "Hey, could I have a go with those calibrations? Sounds fun..."

The answer she gets is very emphatic. "No."

"Keelah, Shepard..." Tali groans, reading a message on her omni-tool. "I'm getting a lot of these support messages from people who want me to take my father's place on the Admiralty Board. Couldn't you have gotten me exiled instead?"

"We can always take care of that, Tali," Shepard grins. "We have nothing to do while waiting for Tim to come up with the Reaper IFF. I say, let's go back to the Migrant Fleet and blow up Qwib-Qwib. And Moreh, for good measure."

Shepard gets the distinct impression that Tali is grinning broadly under that mask of hers when the quarian next speaks up again. "I don't remember Admiral Koris being so bad, Shepard. I think it must be because the war proponents have really put on a lot of pressure. He's feeling the heat. As for Xen... Keelah, she scares me."

"Yeah, I get that. I asked Liara to see if she can dig up some information on her plans... all though, now it occurs to me that it might have been a bad idea to disclose that the Shadow Broker has agents within the Fleet," Shepard presses an open palm to her face.

"Yes, perhaps not the best idea, Commander."

"Still... people like Xen make me wish we'd have someone sensible on that Admiralty Board. Voice of reason... like you, Tali," Shepard says, before giving Tali an inquiring stare. "Umm, you're not going to announce war on the geth the next day after taking the seat?"

"Please, Shepard," Tali raises her hand in protest. "I want to take Rannoch back as much as any quarian, but I know that we must save our strength for the real threat, the Reapers."

"See?" Shepard grins, placing a hand on Tali's shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. "You're our little voice of reason, Tali. Don't you ever change..."

Grunt and Zaeed are comparing the best ways to snap a turian's neck when Shepard enters the cargo hold. "You better not be planning to demonstrate that on Garrus," she warns them, listening to their disturbing descriptions on how to rip off the head plates and separate the head fringe. "So... can I take it that you are now feeling all nice and relaxed, Grunt?"

"I am Urdnot Grunt!" the krogan roars. "Finally, I feel... right! Like... I'm not just simply able to fight our enemies. This makes me want to fight, more and more! Just make sure our enemies remain worthy, battlemaster!"

"Yeah... well, forget I asked," Morgan sighs. I have to give it to Grunt, though, so far he has killed only our foes. By the dozens. That has to be a good sign... "I'm guessing you have just discovered what being a krogan is all about." Grunt nods vehemently. "I just thought that after spending so much time at the female camp, you might be a bit... mellow. I guess it was too much to hope for."

"How did your own mating request turn out, Shepard?" Zaeed asks.

"Perfect, Liara came onboard when we-" then she catches herself, realizing that she has absentmindedly misspoken. "Oh... fuck you!" Zaeed just laughs, showing a gaping hole in his teeth. "Well, doesn't that missing tooth make you look so handsome! Planning to leave it the way it is as a remainder?"

"I might leave it to remind me that you're a sneaky little bitch, Shepard," Zaeed says hoarsely. "But you sucker punched me well. I should not have let my guard down. Good on you for noticing that, I won't make the same mistake twice."

"I'm sure I'll find other ways to kick your ass if you ever pull a stunt like that again," Shepard adds warningly.

"Until my deal with Cerberus has been completed, I'm not keen on finding out," Zaeed speaks, his expression that of a grim promise. "Afterwards, if we're both alive? You just watch yourself when crossing a dark alley, girl. Maybe I'll come after you, maybe I won't."

"Don't worry, Zaeed," Morgan parts from the pair with a beaming smile. "Sickos like you make it certain that I will never, ever let my guard down..."

"I needed to blow up that shithole," Jack says, her words lacking their usual bite. She lies on her cot, staring at the ceiling, hands folded across her chest. "I never did say thanks for taking me there. So... thanks. I owe you one, Shepard."

Morgan nods, pacing around Jack's little hidey-hole on the engineering deck. "Well, looking at you now it seems like you needed that. So, you're welcome," she says. "No hard feelings about that bump on the head?"

"Nah," Jack shrugs. "I hear that the cheerleader got the worst of it. That alone made it worth it."

"Yeah, she was... not so happy," Morgan says, remembering Miranda's reaction after coming back to her senses. "I really needed to pull out all my charm to calm her down."

"Should have just let her try something. I wish she'd give me a reason to kill her... ah well, I guess after we're done with the Collectors," Jack speaks wistfully. "Please tell me you're going to space the entire Cerberus crew once we no longer need them, Shepard."

"Well... I think we'll cross that bridge when we get there," Shepard answers evasively.

"Oh, by the way, Shep," Jack speaks, turning on her side to face Morgan with a piercing stare. "When you knocked me out in that shuttle... I have this one fuzzy memory from there, of someone singing horribly. It still gives me headaches. You wouldn't know anything about that?"

"What, me singing?" Shepard puts on her best surprised face, before quickly turning to leave. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about..."

The arid air in the life support makes her throat dry and itchy, causing her speech to be interrupted by coughs. Still, she comes to speak with Thane often, mostly to inquire about his relationship with his son, Kolyat. Aside that, he has many interesting stories to share, and Shepard does her best to pry what she can from the drell assassin.

Often they disagree on moral principles, but Shepard knows that she is not aware of all the facts and circumstances, missing important context, and is usually willing to let the matter slide, even when her gut feeling insists that for example no matter what circumstances, training someone to be an assassin from the age of six is just plain wrong.

It is hard not to see the hanar relationship with the rescued drell as exploitative to the point of slavery. "Please, Shepard, don't be insulting," Thane simply says, when she speaks those thoughts aloud. "We have the choice to refuse to aid the hanar. Few ever do."

Even so, considering the natural limitations of the hanar, it is hard to imagine that their rescue of drell from their home planet of Rakhana was simply an act of mercy. They need the services and the assistance of the drell in order to perform various tasks their bodies are simply not suited for. Raising private drell assassins seems like one such task that others would not usually expect from the humble worshippers of the Enkindlers.

And there is nothing symbiotic about this drell and hanar relationship. On Rakhana, the last remaining drell continue to bomb each other for the last scraps of resources. On Kahje, the hanar homeworld, the 'rescued' drell spend their lives suffering from the humid conditions their bodies fail to adapt to, eventually succumbing like Thane, slowly expiring from the Kepral Syndrome. There is nothing noble about the hanar and their treatment of drell, it is done for purely practical reasons, regardless of what Thane believes.

He tells her more about his work as an assassin, in that disturbingly compelling way his perfect memory recalls those events. His memories seem so real, so vivid, and he claims that for drell, they feel as if they are as valid as life itself. He tells her of some of his hits, the vicious circle that his body had been drawn in, disconnected from his soul, no longer whole... until the moment when he met his wife-to-be. "Laser dot trembles on his skull. Spice on the spring wind. Sunset-colored eyes defiant in the scope," he recalls first seeing his wife, putting herself between his gun and his intended victim.

With some prodding he tells her more about Irikah. "She introduced me to the world beyond my work," he explains softly. "Eventually she forgave me. Later... she loved me. I thought she was the goddess Arashu. She met my eyes through the scope, and my purpose faltered."

"But the happiness did not last," Shepard remarks quietly, remembering what she has learned from Kolyat's angry reaction after meeting his father on the Citadel.

"Yes. I grew complacent, thought she and Kolyat were safe. But eventually my enemies came for her," Thane says. "After her death... my body returned to the battle sleep. My body hunted down the assassins and their employers. I was taught to kill cleanly and painlessly. Them... them I left to linger."

Shepard nods grimly. "I might have done the same, Thane. There is no shame in that."

He looks at her, but the emotion in his black eyes is unreadable. "I have not spoken of my wife in... I don't think I ever have. Didn't have anyone to speak to," he admits. "Thank you for listening, siha."

Morgan is puzzled about the meaning of the word, but Thane refuses to elaborate. She spends days trying to find her answers on extranet. Eventually she sends a message to Liara, requesting her aid. She receives a reply several hours later. It makes her chest heavy with emotion, and she struggles to keep the tears away.

Siha. One of the warrior-angels of the goddess Arashu. Fierce in wrath. A tenacious protector...

"I do not wish to discuss Morinth, Shepard," the voice is noticeably colder than before.

"I'm sorry, Samara. I... don't know what happened. I just know that I failed you."

"I was wrong to ask that of you, Shepard," finally Samara breaks her cross-legged position and turns around to face her. "Next time I come this close to tracking her down, I will not make the same mistake. I should have handled it on my own."

"Don't blame yourself for accepting my offer to help," Morgan says. "The mistake was mine, and the blame should lie with me alone."

"I understand that you share a... special connection with the asari who came onboard recently," Samara says unexpectedly. "I am wondering if Morinth somehow was able to use that as your weakness. If I had known about your involvement..."

Shepard stays quiet, unwilling to confess that she saw Liara when looking at Morinth. "It might have been that," she merely concedes.

"It does not matter," Samara shrugs, returning to her meditation. "I will attempt to focus on your mission. Morinth will have to wait until we are done with the Collectors..."

"Still hard to believe Maelon betrayed me. Betrayed my work. Disgusted by his actions," Mordin says angrily, when Shepard stops by the lab for a quick chat. "Proud of his nerve, though! Always thought he lacked backbone. Hope he finds something meaningful to do with his life."

Shepard looks at what Mordin has been studying. It looks an awful lot like the charts and diagrams she saw on the computer consoles in the Weyrloc compound. "Going through Maelon's data?" she asks. "Finding anything useful?"

Mordin does not reply. He simply switches the consoles off and turns away. "Usually better at processing this. Can't afford getting stuck in the past. Need to focus on the Collectors," he speaks.

"Don't just throw that data away to rot in some dusty corner, Mordin," Shepard says, trying to sound encouraging. "What happened down there on Tuchanka must not be easily processed and forgotten."

"Not used to this, Shepard. Bad timing for moral quandaries," the salarian shakes his head as if trying to clear it from dark thoughts. "...spent time learning about Clan Urdnot on Tuchanka. Plans, ideas, actions. Urdnot Wrex provides... new perspective on krogan."

"You know he's the one I told you about earlier. The one who agreed to destroy the cure for genophage simply on moral grounds."

"Aware of that, Shepard," Mordin's voice is quiet, thoughtful. "His plans for krogan commendable. Wish I had this perspective to consider back when..."

"...when you were running your simulations," Morgan finishes for him. Mordin does not reply. She steps closer and puts her hand on the professor's shoulder. "I know you will find a way to make up to the krogan, Mordin. I believe in you."

"Thank you, Shepard," he nods. "Means... a lot to hear that. But now... should get back to work. Focus on the Collectors..."