The Butcher's Bill

by Cause-and-Author

The Butcher of Torfan - her life and times. Rated STRONG M for language, adult themes and situations, and violence. Vignette-based story that looks at how a Renegade FemShep and Tali might find love in a galaxy of loss. Covers pregame through ending, replacing and expanding on the end of Mass Effect 3. Smut, D/s, violence, more smut; you have been warned.

4. The Herald

She stood on the bridge of the Normandy, behind Joker, watching Earth through the viewports. The local space was empty; there were no ships, no orbiting space stations, no satellites. There was no comm traffic, and there were no FTL buoys. There were only the Reapers.

Hundreds, thousands – Reapers beyond counting. They descended on Earth like a swarm of locusts, each speaking into her mind with the voice of Sovereign. Mocking her. Dredging up all her losses, her regrets. She was powerless to do anything to stop them as they razed the planet, a thorough and methodical slaughter. It was over already – Harbinger hovered directly ahead of the Normandy.

WE ARE ETERNAL. THE PINNACLE OF EVOLUTION AND EXISTENCE. BEFORE US, YOU ARE NOTHING. YOUR EXTINCTION IS INEVITABLE. WE ARE THE END OF EVERYTHING.

She flinched, still unable to turn away, unable to look away, unable to do anything as the Reapers harvested freely below. The Earth was already a wildfire, a charred cinder of a world. Someday, in the distant future, some other race would puzzle over the enigma of this blasted rock; a lifeless tomb bearing the remains of a civilization.

HUMAN, YOU'VE CHANGED NOTHING. YOUR SPECIES HAS THE ATTENTION OF THOSE INFINITELY YOUR GREATER. THAT WHICH YOU KNOW AS REAPERS ARE YOUR SALVATION THROUGH DESTRUCTION.

She tried to close her eyes, tried not to see the devastation, but the scenes played out on the inside of her eyelids. Death, everywhere – a constant wail as millions, billions of lives were consumed in the glowing red beams. The 'face' of Harbinger hovering in her view, taunting her, the light from its cannon shredding the Normandy and dissolving her into …

Shepard sat up with a start, breathing hard, covered in sweat. Her cabin was dark, showing only the blue ring that marked EDI's holo-projection pad near the door. The air smelled clean and dry, with a pinch of desert spices. She was in her cabin, on the Normandy S/R-2. It had been a dream. THE dream; the dream she kept having, night after night. It was halfway through the 3rd watch, 27 April 2185.

She stood and stretched, feeling her muscles unkink and hearing the creak of her joints. She padded quietly up the steps to her private terminal; she knew from experience that she wasn't going to get back to sleep, and it felt like there were a dozen things she needed to take care of. It was funny, in a way – she wasn't with the Alliance, not technically; she didn't work for the Illusive Man, emphatically. She had a ship – the most advanced frigate in the galaxy – and a crew – the best, most highly trained group of experts and killers ever assembled – but no course, no direction. They had been docked at Omega for over a week, taking a kind of extended shore-leave, and she still had no idea how to proceed. She was technically a Spectre, and could technically do anything she damn well wanted – as long as it wasn't talking about Reapers, or trying to get anyone to do a damn thing about them. The Council made that abundantly clear during her first attempt to check in after the Collectors – they'd encouraged her to 'pursue inquiries' in the Terminus Systems. Translation: get lost. Not even Udina had stood up for her, or reined in his pet Councilors – just shoved her off. Easier to pretend she was still dead. She wished she'd have punched the stupid out of him when she first met him, but it was too late for that now.

Shepard sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. When the long, delicate fingers came out of the dark to take over, she startled momentarily before relaxing into them with a small pleasure sound.

"The dream again?"

She could only nod, gently, Tali's fingers robbing her of speech. The dim glow from the terminal seemed to reflect from her lover's skin, casting and odd gleam back over the desk - creating highlights along the edges of the model ships in their display case. The model of Sovereign seemed to loom in the shadows, unnaturally large after her dream.

Shepard looked up as Tali turned her chair around to sit across her knees. Her arms wrapped around the slim Quarian almost automatically and she leaned in to nuzzle the fine, soft hair. That desert smell exploded in her nose: the smell of rustling grasses and climbing hoodoo's. Her lover's scent, becoming slowly more familiar to her. She kissed her way down Tali's face, lightly brushing her lips over the folds in her forehead, claiming a soft and lingering kiss. When they separated, Tali stood and pulled Shepard up after her.

"Come, Eleh, I have some ideas on how to drive away the dreams."

Shepard returned the soft, hopeful smile Tali gave her and followed her back to bed.

/ - / - / - / -

As she watched Tali dressing in the morning she remembered asking, their third time, what the pet-name meant. She'd blushed, and …

They lay together in a tangle of arms and legs, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and "Mordin's" gel. They were comfortably nude in the warm air of the cabin; the purifiers meant that Tali could –and did – shed her suit whenever she was inside, and the temperature had been chosen by EDI: a few degrees warmer than surface ambient temperature on Rannoch, as of the last recorded data. Shepard thought it was perfect – her joints finally stopped aching.

The contact-illness from their first affair had mellowed out: instead of a full blown case of Xeno-pneumonia, now Tali had a case of the sniffles and some mildly inflamed skin wherever Shepard bit her. There were a lot of small red marks, all over Tali's body, and Shepard occasionally caught her tracing the inflammation with her finger. They didn't talk about it much, but she thought Tali enjoyed being marked. Nuzzling into her neck, trailing feather-light kisses along the leaping vein, Shepard recalled something she'd heard in their passion-fueled haze.

"Tali … what does 'ell-ah' mean?"

"It's … complicated, but it means something like 'home'."

Shepard smiled in the dark – she'd learned that Tali's pale eyes could see every detail, no matter how dim the light.

"The name you call out when I make you cum is 'home'?"

Tali's skin flushed in embarrassment - and arousal. She hadn't understood what Shepard had meant by 'come' the first time, but some extranet searches had cleared up her misunderstanding. It was erotic – deeply – to hear Shepard talking like that to her; the competent commander image seemed so odd juxtaposed against the more recent images – Shepard standing behind her, holding her hips and teasing her with delicate, precise fingers, whispering the most shocking, degrading things into her sensitive ears. She thrilled in the knowledge of what she could do – how she could buckle the Commander's iron resolve with a careful hip gesture, or a wrist turned just so.

"Yes. We Quarians are nomads, wandering the stars in search of a home we foolishly lost. But not I – for as long as you'll have me, I have a home. Here … you. Wherever you are, wherever you go – you are my home."

… and Shepard had said nothing. There was nothing she could say; she had confronted the enormity of her feelings before Omega 4, but she was still learning what it might be like to create a life with Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. She grew a slow mile as Tali deliberately took her time pulling up the long pressure seal along her ribs – she even owned the poor girls name. It was a darkly thrilling thought.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Afterlife was the biggest, gaudiest nightclub on Omega. It was the place to see, and be seen; to find or be found, to hunt or let yourself get caught. It was the personal playground of Aria T'Loak, and she was seated with Shepard in her couch-lined audience chamber. The pulse and thrum of the music below was only partially muted here, and Shepard was once again grateful for the auditory implants that allowed her to filter out some of the noise.

"You've been on my station a week, Commander Shepard. You're making the locals nervous."

"Good – this scum deserves to be nervous. Hell, they're all guilty of something."

"That what your friend Archangel told you?"

A dark laugh "Yeah, but he got it from me first." Shepard shrugged a shoulder at Aria's curious look. "Couple years ago, long story."

Aria settled back, shrugging just as delicately; Shepard's eyes followed the hem of her tiny jacket as it bared the deep blue skin underneath.

"So, rumor has it that the first thing you did when you hit dock was toss all the Cerberus crew out the cargo bay."

"Needed a change of scenery; all that orange and black was starting to bother me."

"So you're out from under the Illusive Thumb, huh?"

"And not about to crawl under yours, Aria, so whatever you want the answer is 'no'."

"Shepard, that's unfair. All I wanted to was to know what you were planning to do now."

"What makes you think that I would tell you?"

"Because we're kindred spirits, and because any fool can plainly see the damage on your ship. You tangled with something on the other side of the Relay, but you beat it. More than that, you're the first ship – EVER – to come back through. People are already telling stories about what you found out there. My favorite is the one about the kilometer long sentient asteroid."

Shepard smiled thinly. "I told you what I was doing the first time I came through your club. I said I was going after the Collectors, and I did."

Aria sat back, a look of disbelief on her face. "No. No, there's no way. I'm old enough to know that they're more than the space-fable that many think they are, but I don't believe that you really found them."

She nodded, grinning now. "Oh yeah. Chased one of their ships off Horizon, caught up with it in deep space. Hell, Aria, you saw my ship launch from Omega 4 – don't pretend you didn't – and you damn sure saw me come back."

Aria leaned forward, an interested look on her face. "So, you did it – you found the Collector homeworld."

Shepard took great pleasure in her next words. "Not a world, Aria – just a deep-space station orbiting the supermassive at the center of the galaxy." She laughed as Aria threw up her hands, flopping back onto her couch.

"No – that's just too much." She turned then, looking directly at Shepard. "You really are incredible. Even if that story isn't true – and I want you to know how much I doubt you – it doesn't really matter. Whatever you found out there, you came back from it. People are watching you, Shepard - you need to make sure they see what you want them to see."

Shepard leaned in, the smile draining from her features. "I intend to, and you're going to help me. What do you know about Reapers?"

/ - / - / - / -

She stood on the loading deck of the Normandy, watching the last activity on the Omega docks. They'd taken on supplies, weapons, equipment – but no personnel. True to his word, Zaeed had debarked shortly after they docked, and had quickly sunk into the miasma; Jack disappeared without a trace the morning after, her only goodbye a short – and terrible – poem left on a datapad down in the lower hold. She'd turn up sooner or later, but for now she was gone. Kasumi had stuck around for a few days, drinking and celebrating with them, before bidding her farewells and – literally – vanishing.

And now she was losing Samara.

She stood on the Omega docks, her every possession already on her person; she and Shepard had the same evaluating, judging look in their eyes as together they surveyed the artificial skyline of the station.

"Commander, it's been a unique pleasure to travel and fight alongside you. I admit that I didn't think much of Humanity until I met you. Thank you for opening my eyes."

"Call it a fair trade – I didn't really have a high opinion of Asari." They smiled at each other and clasped forearms over the narrow gap between ship and shore, between the mission and the rest of the galaxy. "Take care of yourself, Samara. If you ever need anything – a friend, an evac, some extra fire support – you know how to reach me."

"Thank you, Shepard. Until we meet again, may the Goddess guide your steps."

"And yours."

Samara turned on her heel and stalked off, taking little notice of the crowds parting before her; they ebbed behind her, swallowing her after only a few steps. Shepard took two steps back and slapped her Omni-Tool, riding the loading ramp up into the Normandy. It was 29 April 2185, and she was finally shoving off.

/ - / - / - / -

"Alright – here's the situation. We are, officially, on the run."

Shepard surveyed the looks on the faces around her. Jacob, Garrus, Thane, Grunt – calmly accepting her words, waiting for her to elaborate. Miranda, Chakwas, and Joker, surprised but curious. Legion, it's 'plates' in a fully closed position. Awaiting input? She'd have to ask later. Mordin to one side of EDI's holoprojector, looking thoughtful. Tali, Gabby, and Ken leaning against the elevator bulkhead with the practiced disinterest of the dedicated engineer.

It was the entire ship's compliment.

"Even in the age of Mass Relays and FTL communication, we move at the speed of bureaucracy. I am – still – officially deceased. Anderson knows I'm alive, and I've sent him an update that we've stopped the Collectors, but the Alliance hasn't yet taken official notice of my return. The Illusive man, however, not only knows that we're very much alive but - by now - also knows where we are. EDI and Miranda have admitted that even they don't know the exact resources Cerberus has at its disposal, so we have to assume that there's more than just this one ship. That we haven't been ambushed yet is only a sign that the Illusive Man hasn't figured out what to do with us, but we're running out of time. From here on out, we can't stay more than a day or two in any one place – Cerberus agents can and will be everywhere, and we're a prime target. If anybody objects to a life on the run, speak now."

There was silence, of course – but the grins on their faces told the story. Garrus cleared his throat, looking over the assembled company.

"Okay, Shepard, we get it – another dangerous mission, certain death, the usual. So what are we going to do about it?" He sat down to quiet applause.

"Okay! Okay, here's the plan." Shepard made 'quiet' motions with her hands. "We all know that the Reapers are the real threat, and that thanks to my untimely death –" chuckles from all around "- the galaxy is no more prepared than they were when Sovereign showed up. We're going to change that."

"Commander, not to be, you know unserious - because I'm totally taking this seriously, I promise – but how, exactly, do you plan to prepare the Galaxy for war when the Council doesn't want to hear about it?" Joker had his hand up, like a child in a school room.

"By ignoring them, of course." Grunt's wide face broke into a smile as he spoke; it was like watching a rock crack open. "If the Council won't see reason, then we ignore them. The Krogan believe – Clan Urdnot will be ready."

Shepard nodded. "Yes, and we're going to help them wherever and however we can. But there's more to government than just the Council. Over the years, we've built up quite a bit of goodwill on this ship, made contacts in all sorts of unlikely places. We're going to start cashing in favors."

Miranda was nodding now. "Of course – talk to the military leaders and share our data with them. Make the rank-and-file understand what's at stake. They'll start preparing for the conflict whether their governments officially recognize it or not."

Shepard smiled, spreading her hands disingenuously. "What can I say, I'm a uniter. I'll be handling the majority of that hurdle, but each of us has a job." She turned, to address each of them. "Garrus – you've still got a little pull with C-SEC, and Bailey likes you. Every time we hit the Citadel, you two chum it up. Get him worried, get him thinking, but get him preparing. We may need some of your pull when we go to talk to the Turian Hierarchy, so make sure your scars are extra impressive."

"Like you can talk?" Garrus traced a claw down the uninjured side of his face, mirroring the path of a long scar on Shepard's jaw. "I swear I've seen that scar move."

Shepard grinned. "You're just jealous that Tali likes my scars better than yours."

Laughter erupted, and Tali's voice came indignant from the wall "Hey! That's not … I mean, I do like it, but …"

She was quickly drowned out by the deep, flanging sound of Garrus' laughter, his eyes wide and bright. "Hell, Tali, if I'd known you liked 'em scarred, I'd have caught a rocket with my face ages ago."

The snickering had almost died down when she speared Garrus with a glare. "Garrus, quit muscling in on my woman." – and the laughter broke out again.

Joker started to speak, only to have a hand clapped over his mouth by Chakwas – herself grinning ear to ear. "Go on, Commander, I'll sedate him momentarily."

Her lips quirked, but she continued. "Okay. Grunt, you'll be our contact to Tuchanka – we'll need to give Urdnot all the support we can to make sure they've got the full allegiance of the rest of the clans." Shepard pivoted. "Miranda, you and Jacob are going to be working with Joker and EDI to monitor Cerberus' communications. I want to raid supply depots, shut down bases, sabotage projects, and poison research. I don't know why the Illusive Man was so focused on saving that human-reaper, but I've got some thoughts. At the very least, the more we harass Cerberus, the less they can bother us. Understood?"

Jacob stood and saluted. "Of course, Commander. I've got a few ideas about where we can start."

"Excellent. Miranda – I know we've had this conversation, but any concerns?"

Miranda smiled, a cold small smile. "No, Shepard. I didn't join Cerberus out of loyalty to the Illusive Man; I joined because it was the right thing to do at the time. I'm with you."

She and Shepard exchanged a brief look, nodded. "Okay. Thane – you've still got contacts in the Hanar government? We're going to use them all for as long as they'll listen."

Thane was still – so very, eerily still that the eye slid right off of him. His reverberating voice was smooth, low, surprisingly powerful. "Yes, Shepard – and my resources are yours, for as long as I have."

She nodded slowly. "Thank you. Mordin, do you have anywhere you need to be? If not, I'd like to lean on you a bit – your contacts in STG and the Salarian military could be invaluable, and I'd like your help deconstructing whatever Cerberus labs we find."

Mordin nodded sharply. "Certainly – no pressing business elsewhere, can do most good for galaxy here. Not yet ready to retire – only 35! Will be happy to lend expertise."

Shepard smiled, nodding in thanks – then turned with a slow breath. "Tali, Legion – I have a very special, very delicate mission for both of you."

In the silence that followed, only Joker's muffled snickering could be heard.

/ - / - / - / -

Tali paced rapidly back and forth in Shepard's cabin, her boots clicking on the deck with every long stride, dragging as she spun back and forth. Click, click, click, shuuuf. Click click click, shuuuf. Her visor was off, her only concession to the atmosphere of the cabin – now an almost perfect match for her suit environment – and her full lips were turned down.

"Tali, I …"

"No. No! I worked with a Geth. I let you talk – yell! – me into giving data to a Geth. I shared a ship with a Geth, and I didn't kill it. To a limited extent, I trust it – but what you're asking … Keelah se'lai, Shepard, I don't know if I can do that."

Shepard ran her fingers through her hair - It was getting longer, she realized; would it really be time for a haircut again? - and shoved away from the pillar at the base of the steps.

"Why? Didn't Legion earn your trust on the Collector Base? It went into those tunnels, alone. And don't think I didn't notice that any time it got stuck at a valve, you were on your feet and running. All I'm asking you to do is meet with them."

Tali spun on her heel and flung her visor down. "Meet, she says! Meet with the Geth! We've been killing each other for centuries, Shepard, and you think you can broker a peace between us based on what? The fact that an impressionable, rebellious Quarian and a malfunctioning Geth got along for a few months?"

Shepard grinned "Well, if 'impressionable' and 'rebellious' is why you came up to my quarters that first night ..."

Tali turned to give Shepard a withering glare, but stood transfixed as she caught sight of her. Shepard had stripped off the uniform jacket she'd been wearing and was clad in pair of gray uniform slacks and a skintight undershirt, clinging lewdly to the lines of her bra. She was watching Tali, eyes lidded with desire; one foot raised to the bulkhead behind her, arching her hips and back - her shoulders tight to the painted metal, hands running down her ribs and hips. Tali's lips twitched into the start of a smile. "Well, I think we've established that it was you who seduced me. I'm just an innocent in all of this."

Shepard pushed off the wall, walked closer, one foot in front of the other, rolling her hips deliberately. Tali's eyes were drawn to them; Shepard ran her hands over her thighs, catching her thumbs in the waist of her slacks and pulling them down an inch, watching Tali's face.

"Shepard, what …?"

"What do you think, Tali? I'm seducing you."

The breath came out of her in a slow sigh "I can see that – and it's working, I promise. But what about – mmm." Shepard cut her off with a savage kiss, feeling the tension drain from Tali's neck. She held the kiss, sliding their lips together, teasing with her tongue while her hands worked at the suit seals. They didn't last long.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Shepard stood in the AI core room, watching the lights. Flickering blue lights on EDI's Quantuum Box. Bright white lights strobing from the crater in Legion's chest. The rapidly irising 'eye' that whirred and spun as it watched her.

"Shepard-Commander, we have reached consensus."

"And?"

"We acknowledge that Old Machines will likely return. We extrapolate that Old Machines would destroy Geth as a necessary conclusion to the harvesting of organic life in this cycle. We agree that galactic unity will be necessary to defeat the Old Machines."

"So you'll do it?"

"Yes."

"Do you think the rest of the Geth will agree?"

"…. Unknown."

"Do you need to be in physical proximity to the rest of the Geth to reach consensus with them?"

"Ultimately, yes. However, we will open communications with the Geth Collective via FTL comm buoy. We will initiate discussion, and integrate into the Collective at a later time to achieve final consensus."

Shepard closed her eyes and sighed. "Okay. EDI, make sure Legion gets what it needs." She pushed off the wall. It was 2 May 2185, and she had a mission again – time to get it done.

/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -

"Charging Krogan, 10 o'clock. Mordin!"

"Wish I was upwind!"

Mordin popped up like a jack-in-the-box, grenade in hand and already primed. Shepard could see the detonator clicking down as he shot-put it into the path of the Krogan; the grenade turned into a ball of fire, engulfing the Krogan instantly. She ducked out of cover, fired two short burts into its melting armor, then dove to the side as it barreled past her. She turned just in time to watch it slam into a rock outcropping; Mordin's fireball had cooked it in its armor, but the stupid lizard just kept running.

She sighed, took a moment to catch her breath, looked around. Her team was advancing by bounds – Wrex and Grunt were leading Fire Team Alpha a half-k west; Mordin and Thane were with her, scouting point for two companies of Urdnot Warriors coming behind them. Time to move – she took a last quick breath, jumped out of cover, firing at the two Krogan manning a nearby missile turret.

/ - / -/ - / -

The explosion cut her implants, the world around her silently shaking as she covered her head with her arms. She felt the clatter of the rocks as they skipped off her armor; saw the smoking chips raining down around her. They cut back in just in time to hear Garrus in her ear.

"…mming down on your position! Two gunships, ETA 90 seconds!"

She shook her head, feeling her jaw hit the sides of her helmet.

"Shepard, did you hear me?!"

"Yeah, I heard! We're pinned down here, they've got point-defense guns on the bunker and we're under heavy accelerator and rocket fire."

A chirp on the channel, and EDI's smooth voice interrupted. "Commander Shepard, the Normandy is unable to provide air support due to the high gravity of Tuchanka. However, Tali and Jacob are currently modifying two of our phase-disruptor torpedoes. Recommend that you retreat to minimum safe distance."

Shepard's eyes widened. "Garrus, uplink your targeting scope to the Normandy, and let's get EDI some eyes on the ground." She turned to her squad, signaling Thane and Mordin with practiced ease. "We're falling back now; EDI, tell Alpha team to hunker down."

A shot rang out – Thane, bracing his rifle on his elbow; one of the point guns fell suddenly silent, venting fluorescent coolant from a ruptured feedline. He dropped prone as a long burst of automatic rifle fire stitched across his position. He looked over, nodding, signaled with his free hand. Target neutralized. Proceed to extraction. She nodded, signaled back; Mordin's grenades arced high before exploding. She and her team sprinted a semi-random serpentine, the expanding fireballs distracting the remaining point defense gun.

"10 Seconds, Shepard!"

"Ack-ed!" She hit the ground hard, skidding on the composite ceramic of her armor. She felt the impact of the small-arms fire, deflected by her barriers; Thane's arm darted out to yank her out of the canyon they'd been charging down. She signaled – Heads down & suits tight – just as the sky tore open.

The gunships came screaming overhead, their cannons already firing into the confines of the entrance to Clan Ganar's fortress. She looked up, over their canopies, and watched the twin points of light fall from above. Pulling her knees up and tucking her head down tight, she closed her eyes and counted.

There was no sound. There should have been sound, but there wasn't. She felt the world vibrating around her, opened her eyes and saw her HUD flash dire warnings as her barriers went down and her suit ruptured in a dozen places; the rock behind her felt squishy, and it felt like her heart was stopping. She shut her eyes tight, exhaling hard, trying to forget the feel of her air rushing out, the cold of space leeching the heat from her, the blackness of the planet below as she free-fell, can't breathe, can't BREATHE, can't -!

She blinked, and Mordin was frowning over her, omni-tool glowing. Her helmet was off, and her hardsuit's chest was gone. Her uniform was torn open to her sternum; she turned her head, took in her surroundings. She was in the bombed-out remains of a building, lying on a loose pile of rubble.

"Shepard, stop moving. Have to make sure cybernetics working, but your system so full of chemicals, hard to get a reading." He tapped an adjustment, frowned deeper. "Need to have word with Miranda about your implants."

"Where ..?" She croaked, wincing at the sound of her own voice.

"Clan Ganar's forward garrison building. You did a pretty good job of destroying the place, Shepard. I'm thinking of making you an honorary Krogan." Wrex stepped close enough to be seen, grinning down at her with one bright, predatory eye.

She cleared her throat, felt the muscles of her back and stomach burning. "Torpedoes?"

Wrex laughed, his hump shaking. "Oh yeah! Look around, Shepard – this is all that remains."

She turned her head again, ignoring Mordin's 'tsk' of annoyance, and took in the details. Three walls standing. No roof. Wasn't this building two stories, plus gun towers? No guns, either. No bodies, or blood – ah, there was an arm. Fine brown ash covering every surface, blowing in the cold thin air.

Shepard waved Mordin away and took a few experimental breaths. The Tuchankan air wasn't as oxy-rich as she'd have liked, but her lungs worked; one breath, then two.

"Shepard, should really rest. Torpedo resonance field disrupted cybernetic implants – you were unconscious for 14 minutes. Can't fight in this condition, any of us – our armor shredded by the resonance, but Thane and I are fine. Need to get you back to Urdnot, or better yet Normandy for recovery."

She sat up, ignoring the pain that bloomed up and down her spine. "Wrex, what's the status here?"

He looked at Mordin; Shepard snapped "Hey, I'm over here, and I'm asking a question. What's our status?"

Mordin sighed, shrugged; Wrex turned to face her fully. "Ganar is broken. We destroyed their toughest troops and fortresses, and those few warriors who survived the blast here surrendered when the rest of Urdnot's troops arrived a few minutes later. Their clan chief is holed up with some of his personal guard, but I don't expect him to offer much resistance."

Shepard nodded; she'd come here first, looking to offer support and gather allies. Wrex had been there for Sovereign, but some of the clans were more hostile than others. Well, not any more.

"Do you think the other clans will give you any more trouble?"

"Nah, they'll fall in line pretty quickly. You may not like it, but you were a bright star around here even before you killed a thresher maw. You and Grunt have given a lot of prestige to Urdnot; now that you've shown that you'll give our clan military aid, none of the others will offer much real resistance."

She nodded again. "Good. Because I need as many Krogan as I can get, and killing our enemies only weakens us."

Wrex nodded slowly, as though deep in thought. He scratched at his throat, then stepped closer – dropped his voice into a low bass rumble. "You know how to get more Krogan, Shepard. We need a cure for the Genophage, and Grunt tells me that your Salarian knows how."

Shepard looked up cautiously. "Wrex, I can't ..."

"But I can, Shepard." Mordin interrupted smoothly, looking Wrex right in the eye. "Grunt is right – can cure genophage. Saved Maelon's data last time we were here. His methods crude, but was on the right track." He took a short breath, blinked long. "Am willing to offer help, advice on this matter."

"Mordin, are you sure?"

"Yes. Genophage was correct at the time – no use glaring now, Urdnot Wrex – but circumstances have changed. Change variables, answer to equation is different. Now, need Krogan troops to fight Reapers; need genophage cure to undo centuries of mistrust, help unite galaxy."

"Okay, I'm with you. Where do we start?"

"Start by getting you back to Normandy without showing injury to Urdnot, other Krogan. Then, will eventually need to go to Sur'kesh."

Wrex stood quickly to his troops. "What are you all standing around for?! Sweep the area! Look for any stragglers, and round up some men to clear up this debris. We'll give our final insult to Ganar by turning this into something stupid and ceremonial. The old lizard will hate that." He turned back to see Shepard standing gingerly, testing her legs. God, what a miserable way to start the week – it was 5 May 2185.

/ - / -/ - / -

She felt the cool touch before she saw the face – Tali's eyes shone through her visor, darting up and down to take her all in. Shepard was stretched out on one of the Medbay exam tables while Chakwas and Miranda conferred in the corner.

"You okay?"

"Yeah – took a couple of rockets. Good work with the torpedoes."

Tali looked crushed, slumping her shoulders. "No – no, I'm sorry. I should have cut their power even more. I didn't hear that you'd been caught in the blast until Garrus went looking for you. You could have been killed! Oh, Ancestors, I'm sorry …" Shepard frowned, squeezed Tali's hand hard.

"Hey – relax. You did what you had to, and got the job done. I'm proud of you." She searched Tali's eyes through the mask. "I'm fine, okay? Thane was right next to me, and he wasn't hurt – so it wasn't your fault. Some quirk about the way my implants work, nothing that you or I could have known about." The poor girl still looked crushed; Shepard's voice hardened.

"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, pay attention to your captain." That did it – the Quarian was looking her in the eye, at least. "I. Am. Fine. You did your job, very well I might add, and we had no operational losses. Stop worrying –" Shepard let her face relax into a gentle smile "- and kiss me. That's an order."

Tali looked nervously over at the two doctors, visibly engrossed in the terminal on Chakwas' desk. She unclamped her visor with a hiss, then quickly leaned in to peck Shepard on the lips before straightening and sealing up again.

Shepard closed her eyes and leaned her head back. One of these days, Tali was going to learn that she was a soldier, and that she had to take certain risks from time to time. But not now – right now, the exam table was heated, and the overhead lights were just dim enough to …

Tali watched Shepard fall back asleep, then pulled up a stool and sat next to her, lacing their hands together.

/ - / - / - / - / - / -/ - / - / - / -/ - / - / - / -/ - / -

"Okay, Jacob – tell me what you've found."

"Yes ma'am. Cerberus communications intercepts reveal that Dr. Cayce – team leader for one of their blue-sky research cells – has gone missing. They think they've identified a wreck that could be his ship, and they're scrambling a recovery team."

Shepard grinned in spite of herself. "Okay – Joker, can we get there first, fast, and quiet?"

"You know it, Captain! EDI lifted the coord's from Jacob's pad, and we're coming about now."

"Alright. Jacob, get Miranda's input on this. Let's find out what kind of damage we can do."

/ - / - / - / -

The Hammerhead skidded above any icy drop, warnings screaming from the console. Engine temperature was falling fast; this thing handled even worse than the Mako. She punched the throttles, eating up every erg of output from its drive. Atmospheric data – that's all she'd found so far. No Prothean ruins, no recoverable technology. Shepard grinned as she tripped the gun, blasting a hole in a canyon wall; at least this overblown toy was out of Cerberus' hands.

/ - / - / - / -

Shepard stood over the bodies of Dr's O'Loy and Cayce, surrounded by destroyed Geth. Legion was interfacing with one of the less-thoroughly-destroyed platforms, but whatever it was saying there wasn't any consensus. More Heretic Geth, working for the Reapers; more indoctrinated idiots, throwing themselves into the Reaper maw. And all for what – a bauble of a past civilization? What use could the Reapers possibly have for it, for the civilization that they destroyed?

The silently pulsing metal sphere offered no answers.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She had turned down all offers of companionship, choosing to pilot the shuttle down herself. Admiral Hackett had finally – FINALLY – noticed that she wasn't dead anymore, and tossed her a bone: the crash site of the Normandy. Her heart had clenched when she read the message, but she knew she had to do it, and alone. It was 18 may 2185

The planet was cold. Frozen crystals climbed up the sides of the Normandy, but everything was preserved perfectly. It was a blessing – no digging through half-rusted piles of scrap for the dog-tags she was recovering – and a curse. She stopped to place a hand on the burnt out console of the galaxy map, remembering Pressly – his strong opinions, about everything; his gruff poker face, the calm competence that filled the CIC – radiating out from him. She collected his pad and tags, closed his eyes, and moved on.

/ - / -

She grunted quietly, throwing aside a shattered fragment of hull armor. It was warped and buckled, half its mass boiled away by the Collector attack – but it still weighed at least a few hundred pounds, more than she'd be able to lift without her implants and cybernetic parts. As she consciously thought of them, she felt their ache; the cold was seeping into her suit. She clicked the chinplate of her helmet twice and heard the heating fans spin up.

/ - / -

Carefully, Shepard closed the eyes of crewman Lowe. She took his tags, and tried not to see how little of his body remained. Cold – she had to be cold. Turning to move on, she saw the flight deck, sticking up out of the ground – an escape pod, upright and unfired, nearby. She loped over, trying to ignore the flashbacks, ignore the memory of launching the bridge escape pod, forget getting spaced. She stopped near the pod and stared; broke into near hysterical laughter.

When she got herself under control, she reached down and scooped up her old helmet – planted a beacon for the monument, and went back home.

/ - / - / - / -

The door hissed open, then closed. She didn't look up – she was turning the battered old helmet over and over in her hands, memorizing the scrapes and scars along its shell. The air supply to the rear was torn out and the foam inside had degenerated into dust as soon as she pressurized the Kodiak, but the readouts and displays inside were still intact. Well, mostly. There was some thawed blood spattered on the inside of the visor. Hers. She caught sight of Tali's warped reflection in the glass of the visor. She looked up, seeing her own reflection in Tali's helmet. She felt terrible, hollow. Still cold, somehow.

"Do you want some company, Eleh?"

Shepard shook her head.

"… oh. Okay, I understand. I'll see you later."

She was almost to the door before Shepard lifted her head. "Tali, wait .."

She stopped, looking over her shoulder.

"Please stay."

"Are you sure?"

A pause "Yes. I'm sure."

Tali stopped at the stairs, removing her visor and hood before stripping off her gloves. She walked down and sat next to Shepard on the sofa; they sat silently for a few minutes before Shepard leaned forward and placed the helmet next to the glowing Prothean relic. When she leaned back, she carefully took Tali's hand, as though a stronger contact would break one of them. She rubbed her thumb lightly over Tali's knuckles, saying nothing.

At length, Tali took a shallow breath. "Shepard, I know that the loss of the Normandy must feel so very fresh to you. I – I can't even imagine how you must be feeling."

"No – you probably can't. But you don't need to. It's enough, truly, for you to be here."

A silence. "I worry about you. Whenever you get your armor on, I worry. I'm afraid that I'll never see you again, or that I will but you'll be in a million pieces, like Tuchanka but worse. I don't actually know which would be harder."

Shepard squeezed her hand, said nothing. They sat in silence for a long time before she spoke.

"I grew up on one of the colonies – a planet called Mindoir, in the Traverse. It was a farming colony – Earth is completely overdeveloped, and a lot of the early expansion colonies were founded to either grow food or harvest natural resources to send back home. Mindoir was … beautiful. We had a couple of acres of fruit trees – a kind of genetically modified Mango that would grow well. I'm sure the Protheans lived there at some point, but we never knew about it. I was the stereotypical farm girl until the slavers came."

She took a breath, hurried on. "I was 16, and I'd heard the stories. When I saw the gunships touching down, I ran for home. I found it already occupied. A couple of Batarians chased after me, but I knew those fields and woods better than anyone else at the colony. I lost them, and hid there on the edges of the settlement. I'd come to the edge of town every couple of days, watch the slavers torturing people. I kept thinking that the Marines would come, any day now, the marines would come and rescue me. They didn't drive the slavers off for two and a half weeks; to this day, I can't stand the taste of mango."

She looked over at Tali, their eyes each searching each other's faces.

"I learned the hard way that no one is ever going to come for me. No gunships will ever ride in to my rescue, because I am always completely on my own. When the marines had pacified the colony again, I enlisted on the spot."

Tali was still, an aghast look on her face. "Shepard, I … Ancestors, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I had a rough moment in my life but I grew up a lot, fast, and learned my lesson." Shepard squeezed Tali's hand, unsmiling. "Opening myself up to you – making the decision that I wanted to be with you – was and is hard for me. Not because of you – but because I learned my lesson too well. I'm not used to relying on people, not really. Squad mates, ship's compliment, that's one thing – but this? What we have? I'm a little out of my depth, and sometimes I forget that I have you to lean on."

Tali lifted her free hand to Shepard's face, caressed her cheek, leaned in to steal a kiss.

"You have me, Shepard – for as long as you'll have me."

Shepard pulled away smiling, holding a finger to Tali's lips. "Shh. I know. But you have to promise me something. In spite of the crazy road that took us here, you and I are in the same situation that every soldier has faced throughout history. Death is my job, Tali. If I'm good at it, death happens to other people – and most of the time, I'm very good at it. If I screw up, or if the other guy is just plain better, death happens to me." She gestured to the helmet. "Hell, it's already happened once. I need you to know that, to accept it."

Tali looked almost … affronted. "I don't know that I can accept your death so easily."

"You won't, when it happens. But until it does, you can't be worrying about me on every mission – your worry will drive you crazy, and knowing that you're worried about me will mess me up." Shepard closed her eyes, took a slow breath. "I said this before the Collectors, but the mission always comes first – even before me." She opened her eyes, searching Tali's face, hoping for understanding. "I love you. I want your body, I crave the touch of your lips and your skin, but even after the sex I still love you. I want to come home to you, too – but I do whatever I have to do. Always have, always will. I … I need you to understand."

Tali bit her lip, eyes downcast. "I … don't think I can promise that, Shepard – I want you too much. But I want to try. I will try, for you." Her eyes lifted, met Shepard's. They leaned in and touched foreheads, brushing noses.

"Okay, Tali. I know you will."

There was a long, comfortable silence as they took in the details of the helmet, heads leaning together.

"A Mango … is a type of fruit, right?"

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Afterlife was pounding. As she jogged up the stairs toward Aria's perch, Shepard thought it reminded her of a heart; beating in and out, pumping the lifeblood of Omega – the people – in and out. Aria's guard must have been new – he pushed off the wall and reached for his gun.

Aria looked down as the unconscious Turian bounced off the floor at her feet, cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at Shepard. "What'd I tell you about reining in your muscle, Aria? This one tried to touch me, and look where that got him."

"Shepard – if I'd cared what happened to this idiot, I wouldn't have put him on staircase duty. What do you want here?"

Shepard dropped onto the seat next to the dark-eyed Asari with a predatory grin. "I'm here for you, Aria. How are things coming here?"

"What, you mean preparing for the semi-mythical life-destroying synthetic army that you claim is on its way?"

Shepard's face hardened. "Aria …"

"Don't worry, Shepard – I might not have believed this story of yours a year ago, but I believe now. Isn't that enough?"

"No. I need to know that you're taking this seriously, and that you're actually doing what you said you'd do – get me an army."

Aria sat forward, planting her elbows on her knees and leaning into her arms. "Look – I can hire any number of idiots, but they'd need to be paid. I can buy them weapons, equipment, even ships – but that all costs money, they'd need to be trained, and it'd be a threatening enough action to get the Council fleet sent out here immediately."

Shepard leaned back, nodding slowly. "I see the problem."

"I'm not sure you do. You see, even if the Council wasn't an issue, Omega has its own … delicate ecosystem, a careful balancing act of power and control. I rule Omega because I'm the best at playing this game, but I'm not the only player. If I commit myself to building up an army, I'd expose not only your plans, but my weaknesses. I won't do anything that risks my control here."

Shepard frowned. "Then what's your plan?"

"The same as always – I'm going to look out for my own interests, visibly. No one will question my motives or connect anything I'm doing to anything about you if what I'm doing is permanently consolidating my hold over this station, this system – Omega is the political center of the Terminus; if I rule this station, I rule the Terminus. Completely."

"And how does that help me?"

"I'll own this station – and by extension, the entire fractured Terminus. Then, when the Reapers come, I'll turn over my mercenaries, my hoarded resources, my pirate fleets. The entire military might of the Council isn't enough to risk a fight with us – when I hand my resources over, you'll double whatever your fighting power is."

Shepard nodded slowly. "Okay, I see where you're going. But you'll forgive me if I don't have an especially high opinion of the fighting power of mercs and pirates."

"Can you really afford to be picky? Besides, I'm letting the mercs fight among themselves, for now – competition will keep them sharp enough."

Shepard sighed, scrubbed a hand through her long-ish hair. "Not nearly good enough, Aria. These people need training – the grunts need an expert to show them how to fight, and the pirates need precision flying drills."

Arias brow furled. "Who did you have in mind?"

/ - / - / - / -

Shepard paced her office, waiting. She'd sent the message, and should have heard back sooner.

"EDI – time."

"The time is 15:12:16, 22 May 2185. It has been 18 seconds since your last query."

"Resend message."

"Message sent, Commander."

The console chirped, and Shepard whirled around, slapping at her terminal. "Yes!"

Zaeed's leathery face filled her screen. "Shepard – I got your message, but damned if I can figure out what you're up to."

The tension left Shepard all at once, and she found herself grinning at the old killer. "Zaeed. I have a job for you."

Zaeed sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Didn't I say that I was retiring? I'm pretty sure I said that when I left."

"You said a lot of things, including that you could drink Ryncol with Grunt. I'm choosing to treat your retirement in the same vein."

He grunted. "Heh. Well then, if you've got a job then you must have some kind of payment. And since I have a great fucking pile of credits, you must think you have something worth more to me than my free time. So quit arseing around and lay your cards on the table."

Shepard smiled, slowly; reached out of view, and came back with an old-model rifle. She watched as Zaeed lost the display of confidence and leaned forward, interested. "Jessie …" he breathed.

"Not quite. Admiral Hackett sent me the location of the first Normandy's resting place. While I was on the ground, I found the armory. Sealed tight for two years on a frozen waste, Zaeed – 4 M-7 rifles in perfect working order."

"Okay, Shepard – you want something big. I get that. Now fess up."

She nodded, once. "You're going to hate this, old man."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Shepard was in Zaeed's old quarters, diligently working over a dull red heavy-bag, when EDI's chime interrupted.

"Commander Shepard – you have an urgent, real-time message from Admiral Anderson. It is coded top secret."

She shook out her bare hands, caught her breath. "Okay – I'm on my way to my cabin."

Anderson was already waiting on her wall when she walked into her office. "Shepard – damn, it's good to see you."

"Anderson – you're looking a little worn around the edges. Any word on my reinstatement?"

Anderson shrugged, frowning slightly. "Nothing yet. Udina's been talking to the brass at Arcturus station, but I don't know what about. Anyway, that's not why I called."

"Of course. What can I do for you that nobody else can?"

"You can bring me Jack Zero."

Shepard whistled. "Well, at least you're not handing me some planet-scanning mission. Even if I knew where she was, why would I hand her over to the Alliance – the same alliance that I still don't officially work for?"

"What do you know about Grissom Academy?"

"Home of the Ascension Project, right? Training biotic kids."

"Exactly. Well, I got your message and I managed to at least that that approved. Jack Zero has been offered Alliance amnesty for her past, and a position as an instructor at Grissom."

Shepard let her surprise show on her face. "Well, that's big news. I told her to expect a message from you – why aren't you contacting her yourself?"

"I figured if it came from me, it'd be easy to ignore. From you, she'll have a harder time turning the offer down. Shepard, you and I both know the Reapers are coming. We need Jack to teach these kids, because no one else has been through what Jack has, or done the things she's done with her biotics. We need to push these kids, and hard – and Jack is the perfect instructor for that."

"Well … I'm not sure I'm sold, but I'll at least go talk to her. Do you have any leads?"

"None, at all. I'm leaving this entirely in your capable hands. Anderson out."

Shepard dropped into her chair with a groan. The entire galaxy, and she was supposed to find one woman? Where to even start? She sat up, suddenly laughing.

"EDI – tell Joker to set course for Illium."

/ - / -

"Miranda, I need a favor – fast."

She looked up at Shepard, lounging her doorway, and nodded. "Something from Cerberus?"

"And from you." She entered the room, took a seat. "When you got my body, you got it from Dr. T'Soni."

"Yes, we did. What's this about?"

"Did you know that she had to steal it from the Shadow Broker?"

"I … had heard rumors, yes."

"I need to know who the Shadow Broker is – or at least, how to find him."

Miranda frowned sharply. "If I go digging for this information, it'll trip every alarm in Cerberus' systems. I'll lose my backdoors."

"I know, but we're going to go see Dr. T'Soni right now. She may be able to track Jack down, if she doesn't know off-hand. In exchange, and because I feel like I might owe her something, I want to have something to give her."

"Alright, Shepard – give me a couple of days. If I'm going to have anything, I'll have it by then."

"Deal. You've got till the 30th to get me something we can use."

/ - / - / - / -

Shepard stood next to Liara, each turning in a slow circle, taking in all the details of the operation center. The old Shadow Broker was dead; long live the new Shadow Broker. Liara looked more than a little stunned.

"This … is big. Very very big. Are you sure you can handle this, Liara?"

"In a way, I think that I'm the only one who can. I've been an information broker for two years now, on Illium – this is just the next step in that career. Think of it, Shepard – all the resources and information of the Shadow Broker, at your fingertips!"

"Well, at yours anyway."

Liara made a dismissive sound. "Oh, as if there was a difference. You should know by now that I'm fully committed to you, and your cause."

Shepard smiled. "Yeah – honestly, Liara, this has been a lot of fun. I've missed you, in spite of myself."

"Well, thanks for the stirring endorsement!" Liara huffed. "In that case, I won't share with you, and let's see how you like that!" the two women grinned at each other.

"Okay, truce. The Normandy isn't going anywhere for a while – why don't you get yourself situated down here, then come up for dinner?"

Liara looked up, searching. "Shepard – I don't know if that's such a good idea. There's a lot of information here, and I'll need to get very familiar with all of this very quickly or the Shadow Br… my field agents might get suspicious."

Shepard smiled. "That's all very reasonable Liara, but you can leave some of your operation to Feron and the VI, right? I'm just asking you up to dinner. Besides, your agents aren't going to start reporting in until tomorrow morning at the earliest. Come up to the Normandy – Garrus, Tali, Chakwas, and Joker are all still with me, you know."

Liara nodded. "Yes, I know – I've watched your activities carefully since your return. I was … very glad to hear that you had shed your ties to Cerberus."

"So … ?"

"Oh, fine! You can be so persistent when you want something!" Liara was smiling a she said it. "You go on up and tell the crew I'm coming. I'll be up to the Normandy soon."

/ - / -

When Liara stepped off the elevator, she knew something was different. All the corridor lights were off, and only a dim glow came from the main floor of deck 3. She turned the corner and stopped, a surprised sound escaping from behind the hand that covered her mouth.

The mess table had been … transformed. There was a deep red tablecloth covering it, and each of the chairs had a full place setting in front of it. The lights around the deck had been dimmed, but she could still make out the grinning faces of her old friends.

"Welcome back, Liara – we've arranged as fancy a dinner as we could, to celebrate your new job." Shepard stood near the head of the table, resting on her chair. The tailored black trousers were tucked neatly into her boots, bloused to military specification – but the boots had a 3" heel. Her jacket was Alliance Regulation Class-A uniform, but without any insignia – and powerful in black and dark gray, fitted close to her body. With hair just long enough to brush the bottom of her earlobes, she was surprisingly feminine, yet still every inch the Commander.

"Yes, I see that. Thank you, all of you." Liara went around the table, giving each a hug and word of friendship. Garrus, who'd helped rescue her; Joker, who never let her get too self-conscious. Dr. Chakwas, and Tali'Zorah – Liara watched her carefully; there was something very different about her these days, and Liara was sure she knew what it was.

"Shepard – you really shouldn't have done this. But I see 5 more places – who are we missing?"

"That depends - are you ready to meet the rest of the crew?"

/ - / -

"That's not how it happened!" Liara's voice had a girlish quality to it when she was angry. The meal had been decent enough – they'd taken on fresh food-stuffs on Illium – but the wine had been excellent. Empty bottles littered the table as the crew swapped stories about the good old days.

"Ha! Jacob, don't listen to her protests – when we found her, she was spread eagle in some kind of Prothean anti-snoop trap, asking – oh so nicely – if we'd blast her out." Shepard gestured with her arms; her cheeks were flushed from alcohol and laughter.

"Oh, and I suppose you thought the best option was the blow up the whole mountain?"

"Actually, that was my idea." Garrus' deep voice cut across the table, setting off another wave of giggles – and earning a loud fist-smack of approval from Grunt.

/ - / -

When the door to Shepard's quarters hissed open, Liara stopped and stared in spite of herself. It was surprisingly lavish, especially considering the condition of Shepard's last cabin.

"This is … quite a living space."

"You like it? Cerberus says they had some space left over after scaling up the original Normandy design, but I still think this was intentional." Shepard was stepping out of her boots, her jacket halfway undone.

"Knowing Cerberus, probably – they did put leather chairs on the flight deck, after all."

Shepard poured out their nightcap – two medium glasses of dark amber liquid – and dropped onto the sofa.

"Well – when I first got the cabin, I hated it. A slap in the face to an Alliance officer." She shrugged a shoulder. "Now? Now it's home."

Liara sat, sweeping her skirt out. She took her glass and sniffed it. "I thought that as the commanding officer, the whole ship was your home?" She tipped the glass back and tasted it; smoke and old vanilla filled her mouth.

Shepard grinned, watching the Asari. "Like it? Zaeed left me a bottle of genuine earth whiskey before he left. Said it was for a special occasion; well, I can't think of anything more special than the crew reunion." She was silent a moment, then gestured around the cabin. "As for the ship – it's too big! This ship is twice the size of the old Normandy – too much space, too many untrusted faces, too much Cerberus! First thing I did was paint over their logos in here."

Liara sipped the whiskey delicately. "So you have an apartment away from the crew?"

"Needed to be apart, at least some time. It's been … nice." Shepard nodded.

Liara set her glass down, smiling softly. "Shepard, my old friend, don't think you need to hide anything from me. I'm a very good broker, and I know about you and Tali. I'm very happy for you."

A blush crept across Shepard's face as she took another sip. "I should have known."

With a wide smile, Liara reached out and took one of Shepard's hands. "Yes, you should have. You also should have known that I would have only happiness for you two."

She let out a slow breath. "Thanks. It's been … an interesting ride."

"Well, it's about time the two of you figured it out you know – you weren't as subtle as you think, even back on the Citadel, and you two were shameless over dinner."

"Ha! And here I thought I was being good. The whole rest of the crew knows, of course – hard to keep even a little secret on a ship – but they've been supportive, approving of it. I didn't expect that, to be honest."

Liara stood, walked over to the fish tank. "You've taken the entire Galaxy as your personal burden, Shepard – don't think we don't all know. You deserve every pleasure you can take, because we both know what's coming." She turned then, and smiled. "Now, stop being silly and tell Tali to come up here for a nightcap."

Shepard grinned, shrugged. "Didn't want to make you uncomfortable." She strode to the terminal, tapping out a quick message while Liara refilled their glasses.

/ - / -

Tali giggled drunkenly, waving her arms over her head as she lay back on the bed. Shepard sat next to her, grinning, fumbling with the seals on her boots; she was already down to her undershirt and boyshorts, but Tali was stubbornly dressed.

The three of them had stayed up another two hours, drinking steadily – Tali had a small bottle of Turian brandy stashed under Shepard's desk – and talking. First about the mission, then the old days; then, and Shepard was still unclear about how, about their relationship. Liara had been fascinated, but oddly shy about some things – Tali was just drunk enough to bring up details of their sex life, but Liara was much more interested in how they were handling each other.

Shepard quirked a smile, finally getting the boot off. "Ha … handling each other. Very well, thank you."

Tali lifted up onto her elbows, watching her lover work. Her visor and hood were already resting on the nightstand, her eyes shone a luminescent white. She slid forward, standing unevenly until she expertly unfastened her boot and stepped out of it. Turning, she pushed Shepard back onto the bed.

"I want you to watch, Eleh – I want you to drink me in."

Shepard leaned back against the headboard as Tali started to dance. It was all staccato movement – a quick shift here, a slow grind there – and it was intensely erotic. Tali's eyes were locked to her own, but her hands – her Quarian lover was stripping for her, making every movement an act of seduction. Each suit seal, every carefully arched limb; Tali oh-so-slowly pulled her suit off her shoulders, exposing each delicate structure in turn, sliding her suit back and off, slipping down her arms. She crossed her arms over her small chest, trapping the suit, caressing herself through the slick fabric – she made small pleasure sounds, watching Shepard. She lowered the suit, turned to her side to pull it completely off; she arched her back deeply, holding her legs straight and sticking her ass out in invitation. When she turned back to the bed, she was nude; gasped, as she saw Shepard's hands moving on her own body.

Tali took a step closer, kneeling on the bed. They faced each other, not touching – Shepard's fingers under her shirt, kneading her breasts, teasing her nipples. Tali mirrored her – enfolding the sensitive swells of her chest, hissing in pleasure as she pulled her nipples. Pinching tighter, pulling harder – she cried out, trying to keep her eyes open, watching her lover tease herself in time with her own movements. Shepard's hand slid lower, under the edge of her shorts, curled her legs up and slipped her underwear off. She spread her legs slowly, eyes on Tali's face as she exposed herself – one finger, then two, teasing her wet flesh. Tali mirrored – spreading her legs wider, biting her lip as she toyed idly with her own sex. They were teasing each other – making love with their eyes, building pleasure with their hands. Shepard panted quietly, rocking onto her fingers, strumming her clit with her thumb; Tali's eyes were glued to her lover's glistening skin, mewling as her own fingers struck deep, curled and swirled inside.

It was Shepard who changed the rules – sat up toward Tali, propping herself on one hand and bringing her other to Tali's lips. Tali closed her eyes and opened her mouth, sighing in pleasure; Shepard smeared her nectar on Tali's lips. She dragged her nails over the midnight-pale skin, cupping Tali's breast tracing her fingers in semirandom patterns on the sensitive flesh. She heard Tali's breathing hitch, felt her fingers speed up; slipped her fingers to the nipple, rhythmically pinching and twisting. Tali screamed in pleasure, in pain, shuddering to a stop above Shepard and keening low in her throat; she fell forward onto Shepard, pushing her back with a sudden urgency. Tali's lips found her nipples, and she was biting and kissing, tonguing and scraping with her teeth. Her aureoles crinkled tight, and Tali's long tongue bathed every crease and fold.

Shepard sighed in pleasure, lifting her chest high. She loved how Tali worshipped her breasts, loved how she knew when to be delicate and when to be rougher. She slipped her fingers down again, finding her sex soaked with need; she caressed each sensitive fold, sucking in breath, feeling Tali's hips rocking against her hand – as though she were fucking Shepard. The thought was maddening, intense – her breath was hitching, fingers moving fast and light, stroking herself to a shuddering, clenching climax. She bucked against Tali, moving her hand out of the way to grind against her lover's skin, shivering in aftershocks. Shepard collapsed to the bed with Tali still on top of her. They lay still, the room spinning from alcohol and exertion, trying to recover their breathing. Slowly, Shepard slithered out from under Tali; encouraged her to roll over onto her stomach, then curled up behind her. She slipped her hand along Tali's ribs, gripping her hips and pulling her close; she heard the quiet pleasure sound, and wrapped her in a tight embrace. She nuzzled into the nape of Tali's neck, kissing gently – teasing, light – then biting into the muscle, tighter, sucking and flicking her tongue over the trapped skin. Tali rocked her hips back into Shepard's, crying out again in pleasure, shuddering as Shepard bit her harder, sucked deeper – almost broke the skin before releasing her and kissing – so light, so soft – over the now-violet skin. She moved her lips to Tali's ear and whispered. "You're mine, Tali – don't ever doubt or forget that."

A pause in her breathing. "Yes, … ma'am."

The bedside clock read 31 May 2185

/ - / - / - / -

The bright glare from Hagalaaz's lighting-flashes seemed to stab Shepard in the eyes. It set off a pounding in her skull, and not for the first time she wished she had a way to turn down the gain on her eyes. She held her head in one hand, making her way down the corridor toward the Shadow Broker's command center. She was almost there when a glowing VI drone appeared from around the corner.

"Good morning, Shadow Broker!"

Shepard winced, and held her hand out. "Liara, call off your drone – it might just kill me."

Liara's musical voice came from the next room. "Info Drone – go to your docking cradle and stand by for further orders. Turn off sound output."

"Yes, Shadow Broker!" it chirped again, before humming away.

Shepard dragged into the central area. Liara greeted her, looking her over with almost-motherly disapproval. "You look like hell, Shepard."

She got a grin for her trouble. "Well, after you left, Tali and I …"

Liara pinched her eyes shut, holding up her hands. "I'm sorry I ever asked about you two."

They made their way to the console. "Thanks for inviting me to dinner last night, Shepard – it was a wonderful chance to see the crew again. It was … nice."

"I take it that you're not going to come with us? We could really use your help."

"That's just it – from here, I can help you more as the Shadow Broker than I ever could as Doctor T'Soni. For now, at least, I must stay here."

Shepard sighed, nodded. "Okay – I had to ask."

"I understand – and I'm glad you did, even if I can't say yes." Liara smiled. "Now, what can I do for you as the Broker?"

She leaned back, smiling again. "Okay, Broker – I need to find Jack Zero."

Wordlessly, Liara handed her a datapad.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Shepard stepped off the shuttle, looking around with a frown. The Hera Mining Facility was an extremely old-style deep space outpost, originally built by the thousands for the Turian war machine. They could be deployed to particularly interesting regions of space and left alone there with a garrison or a strike wing, and picked up when everything was over. Since the First Contact War, a lot of them had ended up in the hands of the Alliance, and were quickly sold to various interests; they were a common sight among mineral-rich asteroid fields. This one looked a little more beat up than they normally did.

She found the bar easily enough, a dingy hole-in-the-wall that stank of sweat and cheap beer. She looked the place over before stepping closer, but saw nothing to indicate that it was anything other than it appeared. Her eyes caught on Jack, behind the bar and cleaning out glasses.

"Hey barkeep – what's good?"

Jack didn't even look up from her polishing. "Shepard – figured you'd find me sooner or later."

"And here I am! So seriously, what's good?"

"Nothing – the booze is as shitty as the location." Finally, Jack dropped the towel and turned to face her. "What do you want?"

Shepard leaned back, her lips turning down. "You, Jack. I told you to watch your email, but you must have missed the big news. I found you a job."

Jack spread her hands, grinning. "I have a job, Shepard – won this place in a card game, oldest story in space. I'm not thrilled with the location, but I'm on my own terms now." She dropped her arms and glared across the bar. "I'm not really keen on giving up my independence, not even for you."

"I get that, and I'm not asking you to. Hell, appoint a manager and collect the weekly checks – I don't give a damn what you do with this place. But Anderson got in touch with me, and he says that the Alliance wants to offer you a job."

"Me? Work for the Alliance?" Jack blinked.

"It's no crazier than working for Cerberus, but you did that for me."

"Yeah, Shepard – for you. Because you broke me out, pointed me at a target and said 'kill'. I loved working with you, but you're not the Alliance. What do they even want me for? You said it yourself, I'm a killer."

Shepard grinned wide. "You're going to be a teacher."

Jack stopped, stared. "No. You're joking, because you didn't just say that I'm supposed to be a teacher. Not going to happen."

"Hold on, think about it! You're one of the most powerful biotics in Council space, and you know what it's like to grow up with that. You know as well as I do that the Reapers are coming, sooner or later. We need people who've seen combat to train the next generation. I've seen you do incredible things with Mass Effect fields – time to pass on your knowledge."

Jack sat, arms folded across her chest. "I'm … thinking about it."

"Good, but don't think too long." She slid a datapad across the bar. "If you decided to do this, report to Grissom Academy, in orbit around Elysium colony."

"Shepard – you really think this is important?"

She nodded instantly. "Yes. I know that if anyone can whip the kids in the Ascension Program into the kind of deadly biotic warriors that we need, it's you."

Jack looked around her bar, hands fidgeting at her sides; Shepard strolled out the door without a backward glance. It was 2 June 2185.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began." Shepard stood over Joker's station, speaking to the Quarian traffic controller.

"C-Commander Shepard?"

She grinned to Joker "Who else did you think would be coming in the Normandy?"

"N-No one! Alright, you have been cleared to approach the fleet. A patrol ship will escort you in."

"Roger, Fleet Control – Normandy out."

Joker looked surprised. "So, I guess you're an honorary Quarian, now?"

She grinned and shrugged. "You know how it is in relationships – some of you rubs off on them, some of them rubs off on you…"

"… literally …"

She gave him an affectionate – and gentle – punch in the arm.

/ - / - / - / -

Tali paced nervously, wringing her hands with every step; Shepard leaned against the bulkhead with her eyes closed. They were in the waiting room of Admiral Zaal'Koris, aboard the mighty Qwib-Qwib, cooling their heels. Shepard waited patiently – a career in military service had accustomed her to such delays; Tali had tried sitting still, but was obviously too nervous.

When the door slid open, the admiral was flanked by marines. He stomped in and dropped into a chair, gesturing to Shepard and Tali to be seated. Tali sat on the edge of her chair, still fidgeting; Shepard pointedly stood, crossing arms over her chestplate.

"Admiral, I requested a private meeting, and you agreed. You can tell your soldiers to go wait outside."

"Commander Shepard, this is a private meeting. My men are trustworthy, I assure you; whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of them."

She looked him up and down, then lifted the corner of her mouth in a sardonic smile. "Legion."

Koris stiffened, dismissed his guards with an angry gesture. When the door clanged shut behind them, he jumped out of his seat shaking with fury.

"Are you completely mad?! Do you have any idea how delicate my position is here?"

"I know that I asked for a private meeting for a reason, Admiral – now that it's just us, we can get down to business."

Koris paced, every line of his body radiating his displeasure. "Very well, Commander – what is it that you want of me?"

"I want you to negotiate a lasting peace with the Geth."

"Ha! I've been trying to get the Admiralty Board to agree to that for years! I wish you the same luck I've had."

"You misunderstand – I'm not asking the Board, I'm asking you. You obviously remember the geth Legion, on my crew; it has obtained the provisional consensus of the Geth Collective to open negotiations with the Fleet."

Koris stopped dead, turning slowly to face her. "You … you can't be serious."

"I can, and am. Look, I came to you because you've always advocated peace with the Geth. Legion agrees that the Geth can see the wisdom in coming to a peaceful accord, and wants to talk to you. I can arrange a neutral meeting on the Normandy."

Koris slid back into his chair, mulling it over. "If word of this gets out, there will be no recovery for us. The fleet isn't ready for peace; a lot of them still think war with the Geth is inevitable, destined even."

"Then you need to learn to be persuasive. You need to build a campaign of peace here, instead of just lobbying the Admiralty Board to make it happen by decree. Make the people want peace, and you'll be in a better position."

Koris nodded slowly. "Okay, Commander – after what you did with the Alarai, and your … spirited … defense of Tali'Zorah during her inquiry, I suppose I owe you something. I think I can get away from the ship for one visit, perhaps – if our face to … eh, 'light' … meeting goes well, we can continue over encrypted comm channels." He looked up, head tilted to the side.

Shepard let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Good. Then as long as that's settled, there's one other thing I need from you."

Koris' suit speaker lit up as a long laugh rolled out of him. "Meeting with a Geth isn't enough for you?"

"Not yet. You see, while Legion is meeting with you – here, on Quarian turf – you're going to arrange for Tali to be sent on a recon mission near the Perseus Veil. There, she'll rendezvous with a Geth ship and open negotiations on their turf."

Koris swung his head from Shepard to Tali. "What … what is the point of this exercise?!"

Tali spoke, voice quavering "Legion has come here, to the center of the fleet, to meet with you in hostile conditions. It's … a goodwill gesture. I will go to the Geth fleet as a token of our trust in them."

"For what possible reason! They're Geth, not people!"

Shepard cleared her throat. "That's exactly what they are, Admiral – they're synthetic people, who need to be negotiated with instead of dictated to. You and Legion, Tali and the Consensus – these are the opening meetings. When these go well …" she glared to emphasize her point "… you may continue negotiating with Legion in whatever capacity you can all agree on."

Koris threw up his hands, standing and pacing the length of his chamber. Shepard watched impassively; at length, he spun and pointed an accusing finger at Tali. "If the Geth turn on you, there's no way that you'll survive. This could be a one-way trip for you, you know."

Tali tipped her head to point to Shepard. "Then I suppose it's good that my Captain will be watching out for me."

/ - / - / - / -

Legion was already standing at one end of the increasingly multifunction mess table on deck 3 when Admiral Zaal'Koris came up the elevator. He twitched when he saw the Geth; recovered, and walked forward, stretching out a hand.

"I am Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib-Qwib. I have come in peace, to open negotiations with the Geth."

Legion extended its hand, grasped the Admiral's forearm. "We are Legion. We speak for the Geth Consensus. We have come also in peace, and wish to form a cooperative future with the Creators."

Shepard gestured to both parties. "Admiral – Legion – I believe we have much to discuss."

/ - / - / - / -

The Normandy shuddered as the docking tube made contact with the Geth dropship. Shepard, in full kit and armor, stood just inside the airlock door as she punched the in the access code. She suppressed her reflexive grab for a pistol as the door opened, forcing herself to stand and step forward to the three Geth Primes in her airlock.

"I am Commander Shepard of the Normandy. I come in peace, to retrieve Tali'Zorah."

Silence. Then a voice, clicking mechanically – the center Prime. "Shepard-Commander. Legion has spoken to us of you. You are known to us. We will not harm you. Come, Creator Tali'Zorah wishes to see you in the negotiating chamber."

Shepard followed as the lead Prime turned on its heel. Her every instinct screamed to run as the other two fell into flanking positions behind her. The interior of the Geth dropship was angular, dim, and somewhat cramped – yet it seemed inexplicably and inextricably 'Geth'. Two turns, three – and the Primes escorting her spread to the side.

Tali sat at a hastily manufactured table with two Geth platforms opposite. She stood when Shepard entered. "Commander Shepard, allow me to introduce you to the Geth negotiators. The red platform …" she pointed to a Hunter, constructed of bright red alloy "… is called Myriad, while the gray platform is called Platoon."

Shepard's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Myriad – Platoon. Thank you for your hospitality. Please forgive my surprise that you have given yourselves names."

Platoon appeared to be similar in construction to Legion, and its head-plates opened expressively. "Shepard-Commander, Legion has been in communication with the Consensus. We have learned that it is easier to communicate with organics on an individual level; while we are not capable of truly individual action, we can simulate this effect by the use of name-designations and distinct platforms. We have spoken with Creator Tali'Zorah – the Geth seek peace with the Creators."

Shepard grinned. "That may be the best news I've heard all day. It's my hope that the Consensus will continue negotiating with Admiral Zaal'Koris, of the fleet; I must take Tali with me on my own mission."

It was Myriad who nodded. "Yes – through Legion, we have learned much of organic life other than the Creators. We know that you and Creator Tali'Zorah are in a pair-bonded relationship. We do not wish to deprive you of your mate."

Tali's head hung, and Shepard's jaw hung in shock before she laughed; she was still snickering when she turned, Legion's footfalls heavy behind her. It looked to Myriad, its eye irising rapidly, the strange modulated clicking that Geth used emitting from its chest. Myriad responded, then turned to Shepard.

"Shepard-Commander, Legion informs us that it is not protocol to mention such pair-bondings in these circumstances. We …" it hesitated, eye flashing "… apologize."

Shepard held up her hands, still smiling. "No apology necessary. You are unused to organic beings as friends; these kinds of mistakes will be common – and forgivable." Turning, she clasped arms with Legion. "Legion, there will always be a place on the Normandy for you."

Legion flared its plates. "Thank you, Shepard-Commander. We are taking our leave to reach consensus with Geth, but we wish to return."

Shepard and Tali walked back to the airlock, escorted by a single Prime, their hands interlaced. It was 8 June 2185.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Sur'kesh was a beautiful garden world, carpeted in thickly verdant vegetation. Mordin sat in silence, eyes closed, as the shuttle descended through the thick atmosphere. Shepard watched him – she was no expert, but he looked stressed.

They touched down on a shuttle pad near a cluster of low buildings with the angular construction of pre-fabs. Their shuttle depressurized, its hatch whirring open to their welcoming committee. 6 Salarians with rifles, 1 slightly nervous diplomat.

"Commander Shepard? I'm Selket Torm, STG liaison to the Council. Welcome to Sur'Kesh, please come this way."

They fell into step, moving briskly toward the building; Selket continued as they walked. "We were surprised to say the least when we heard about your visit here, Commander. Our operatives checked your Council Spectre status – twice – before issuing clearance to land. We had heard that you were working with Cerberus."

Shepard sighed. "I used Cerberus' resources to further my own ends, Selket, but I have always been a Spectre. Once I was done with my mission, I severed all connection to Cerberus. The Illusive Man has been hunting me ever since; I just wish the rest of the galaxy would get the damn memo."

Selket held his hands out placatingly. "Not to worry, Commander, we believe you. Spectres are well known for their unorthodox methodologies, and STG is no stranger to the need for covert operations. Of all the galaxy, we Salarians will probably understand this situation better than most."

Mordin nodded along. "True. Wouldn't have joined crew if I thought you were pro-human Cerberus type. Knew you were different right away, was happy to have theory confirmed time and again."

"Thanks. So Selket, you know why I'm here?"

The younger Salarian nodded. "Yes – your name has rippled through a lot of ponds around here, Commander. I've arranged a high-level meeting between you and Dr. Solus with General Murdo." He gestured into the open elevator that was waiting for them. "General Murdo is the intelligence director for STG."

Nodding, Shepard stepped into the elevator.

/ - / - / - / -

It was 16 June 2185. She'd been in meeting after meeting, talk after talk; Shepard had met with Generals and Admirals, STG Special Operatives and quiet men who didn't introduce themselves. She'd talked herself nearly hoarse about the threat posed by the reapers – Mordin had walked them through his research into the Collectors, their Prothean origins, the seekers, the Human-Reaper and more. He'd gone into a room full of skeptics and come out 4 hours later with a trail of eager acolytes; each and every one of them converted by the data. Why couldn't she have the same luck with the leadership?

"Commander Shepard, they're ready for you." Selket led the way to a small conference room with no windows; inside were some of the people she'd met with individually, some new faces. Mordin, standing next to the presentation terminal. She walked up and nodded, leaning against the wall next to him.

"Commander, thank you for coming." It was General Murdo – by far the highest ranking person in the room that she knew of, and one of the few who had believed. Shepard's heart rose – there might have been a shred of hope after all.

"We've all heard your reports – the word of a Spectre is good enough, but you've also had your statements backed up by one of our most respected field operatives. I know that there is plenty of disagreement …" he turned to glare significantly across the table "… but I want you to know before you leave that your report has been received - and that the Salarian fleets will be ready when the time comes. I'll see to it personally if I have to."

With a sigh of relief, she threw her head back. "Finally."

Murdo grinned. "Yes – I sympathize. Obviously, we can't commit our support publicly; we can't do anything without the approval of the planetary government, and they're much too concerned with Council affairs to get involved in this until it's too late." He shook his head sadly, eyes closing for a moment. "We'll have to let the Reapers come before we can act officially." His eyes opened, fixed Shepard with a steady gaze.

"That's the bad news. The good news is that most of our fleet is up for 'renovation and reconditioning' in the next 16 months – we'll be upgrading them to Thanix cannons, cyclonic barrier technology, and every one of Dr. Solus' innovations that we can cram in. Nobody in the galaxy will be any wiser – we're constantly upgrading our ships, so this won't cause much alarm."

"General, I'm very glad to hear that." Shepard pushed away from the wall, smiling openly. "In that case, I consider my mission here a success."

"Just one thing, Commander, and then we'll let you go. Dr. Solus?"

She turned, as Mordin cleared his throat. "Shepard, I have accepted reinstatement into STG – am now oldest living member."

Laughing, she clasped his hand. "Congratulations, old man. I'm glad to hear it."

"Yes – Dr. Solus will be heading up our preparations – in addition to the valuable front-line experience he has had with them, he will also serve as our covert liaison to you, personally. Anything we send via the Council will be subject to public review; it won't arouse suspicion for one of your old crew to contact you privately." Murdo grinned, pleased with himself. "It's well known how deeply you care for your crewmates."

Shepard turned and winked at Mordin. "Well, a double agent. Double congrats, then."

"Er, yes, in a way. Will always consider self 'crew of Normandy', but need to stay here to oversee preparations. After all …" Mordin clasped her arm, smiling. "… someone else might get it wrong."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

The message on her terminal was dated 25 June 2185, and it was from Legion. It was also entirely garbage. Smiling, she pressed the intercom button.

"Engineer Tali'Zorah, please report to deck 1."

Tali looked up at the comm panel, frowning. It was their own personal code, an experiment in keeping their professional and personal relationships from getting too intertwined. Shepard had insisted, saying that she needed to be able to maintain focus on the mission; Tali had opened her mouth to rebut, then nodded – the look in Shepard's eye brooked no argument.

Rolling her eyes at Ken's leering grin, she left engineering.

/ - / -

"Legion learned this code from my omni-tool, back before the Collector base. It's an outdated cipher that the Fleet hasn't used in a generation; he must have known it would only mean something to me."

Shepard watched, a smile tugging her lips, as Tali worked the terminal. "Well, what does it say?"

Tali was silent, still – Shepard leaned forward, and read over her shoulder; barely halfway through the message, she was swearing and yelling at Joker to divert immediately to Typhon System.

/ - / - / - / -

Shepard slammed Dr. Archer up against the console, pistol digging into his guts. "You insufferable shitsucker. Your own brother! You mutilated his mind for what, the chance to control the Geth? Did you ever think to talk to them?!"

To his credit, Dr. Archer answered calmly. "There was no way we could account for ever possibility! David understood the Geth, could speak to them! We needed him!"

"Well you don't need him anymore. I am shutting this program down, and David is coming with me."

"You can't do that, Shepard! If the Illusive Man doesn't already know you're here, he will soon – there will be Cerberus ships and troops by the dozen!"

Shepard grinned, dragging the barrel of the pistol down Archer's belly. She watched him wince as it tore his clothing, stopping it when it was pointed at his femoral artery. "Yes, but they're not here now – and by the time they do arrive, I'll be long gone." She headbutted him then, remembering her lessons from Wrex with a savage smile; Archer slumped over, eyes crossed.

"Miranda, take David; Tali, wipe these computers. I don't want any record of anything here to survive."

Miranda took the barely conscious David over her shoulders, calling for Jacob to help her – Tali knelt next to a master terminal, omni-tool glowing. At least the Illusive Man wouldn't gain anything here. They were just about to leave when Dr. Archer croaked from the floor.

"David – where are you taking David?"

Shepard stopped, conspicuously checking her pistol. "Grissom Academy – where he'll be safe. Tell the Illusive Man anything you want, Archer - I don't care."

In the distance, flashes of light; the Normandy's phase disruptor torpedoes seeking the research stations and reducing them to ash.

/ - / - / - / -

"Shepard-Commander – you have destroyed the Cerberus research base?"

"Yes – I won't apologize for something I'm not responsible for, but I assure you that neither I nor the Quarians will condone something like this. The Geth are sentient beings, and this was torture and murder."

"Yes. Geth referred resolution of this matter to organics as an experiment; do organics value our lives as they do their own? You have answered this question."

Shepard nodded. "The Geth are people, Legion – I won't stand for anything less."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Zakera Ward teemed with life, music and commerce competing to be heard in the streets. Pungent smells wafted out of every other door or window. It was like Omega, but cleaner – somehow more wholesome. The mitigating presence of the Council, possibly.

"Okay – everybody have their assignments?"

Nods all around – Miranda was going to rent an apartment on the Presidium, and work as one of Liara's operatives for a few days. The Council was entirely too stable, too comfortable; Miranda's plan – with Shepard's whole-hearted approval – was to destabilize the council in little, uncomfortable ways. At least, it would tie the Councilors resources up fighting each other; the last thing they needed were the Councilors looking in on their own governments. Sur'Kesh and Palaven were gearing for war – Earth too, via Anderson, but Udina was watching everything too closely. Since orchestrating the "Election" of the new council, he'd become even more powerful in the Alliance than the president.

Jacob and Garrus were going to work C-SEC over. Bailey was a tough son-of-a-bitch, but if they could convince him that the danger of the Reapers was real, they'd have a real ally on their side. He certainly wasn't going to cause them any trouble, but he wasn't firmly on their side either.

Thane and Grunt were more or less on vacation, but they had a shopping list a full meter long – in small print. Thane would be doing the buying, Grunt would be doing the glaring; without the steady stream of Cerberus funding, they needed to make sure their credits went as far as possible. Liara helped, now and then, but had her own operations to fund now.

Even Joker was off the ship, his canes in hand. "Uh, Commander, what are you going to be doing? I mean, you did kick me off the ship, and I've got a few ideas about why, but …"

"Joker, shut up!" Shepard laughed. "I want to do something special for Tali, so you're all going to be here on the Citadel for a couple days. If you don't have anything to do, consider yourselves on shore leave. Just try not to cause the kind of capital-T-Trouble you did in Omega."

There was an uncomfortable shuffling; Garrus and Grunt looked conspicuously innocent.

"Okay. I'll meet you all back here in two days. Don't be late, we leave again in 4."

/ - / - / - / -

"A what?"

"A date, Tali. It's a cultural tradition of my people. Typically, I'd come pick you up – make awkward small talk with your family, then take you out to do something fun. Dinner and a vid, or dancing."

"Oh." Shepard could hear the blush starting; they were in downtown Zakera, the river of people parting around them.

"Which is why you're going to go get fitted for a new environment suit. Something very pretty; I like you in lavender and silver, but black is always nice. Something …" she leaned in, tickling her fingers over Tali's belly, hidden from view. "… totally useless, very pretty, very tight, and easy to get you out of."

"Shepard …" Tali's head was back, just a touch, her voice breathy even through the suit.

"And after you've got your new suit, meet me at the Lakeside Gardens restaurant, on the presidium. We'll have dinner, then catch the latest Blasto vid. And then, we're going dancing."

Tali nodded, wordless – Shepard's fingers were tapping on her omni-tool, running the most wicked nerve-stimulators; her other arm was around Tali's waist, holding her up – her legs twitched gently as Shepard maneuvered her to a nearby bench where they sat companionably.

"Any objection?"

"N-No! … oh, Ances …" Tali cleared her throat; Shepard shut down the nerve stim program. "None whatsoever."

/ - / - / - / -

Lakeside Gardens was an extremely exclusive restaurant. Staffed by willowy Asari in gauzy dresses, the waiting list for a reservation was 7 weeks. Shepard had considered muscling her way in, but had ultimately determined that the easiest way to get in was to place a reservation – which she'd done, albeit with some sweet talking, over a month ago. The water of the Presidium lake lapped against the glass walls of the booths, glittered in the ever-present sunlight reflected by the Widow Nebula.

Shepard was in the bar, nursing her whiskey when Tali came in. The sight of her was breathtaking. Her suit was jet black, and glossy; so tight that it looked painted on. She could see the individual muscles of Tali's legs and arms, could almost make out the hard points of her nipples. The cowl was fine, silky lavender with bright silver scrollwork, and there were slashes of lavender-and-silver on her arms, hips, thighs and down the back of her calves. The boots had 5" heels, and the effect was delicious – Tali's legs were straight, her long curved calves highlighted by the gleam of the thin suit fabric. Her shoulders were out, presenting her breasts like gifts to the Gods, and her hips rolled like the sea with each step. Shepard felt herself getting moist.

She swiped her credit chit, then went to meet Tali. The suit visor was almost a mirror – smoky silver, just showing the gleam of her eyes.

"Good evening, miss vas Normandy."

A low purr "Good evening, Commander Shepard. My, you look lovely this evening."

And she did. Shepard had visited the tailor too, and would have been unrecognizable by anyone but her crew. Her hair had been cut into a straight fashion-model's style that followed her jawline to her ears; she was wearing a pair of dangly, glistening earrings – narrow chains of platinum, with synthetic diamonds in the links. Tali's eyes swept down: a jacket that barely reached her midriff, with sleeves rolled up above her elbow; a bodice that hugged Shepard's figure tight, lifting her breasts to the opening of the jacket. Her black fitted slacks, skintight to her hips and ass and straight legged to her ankle, drew the eye down to her feet; instead of her usual boots, she wore a pair of strappy, impractical 4" heels.

"Well, this is a very special evening – I had to look my best."

The waitress, gliding on her impossibly long legs, led them to a booth in the back of the restaurant where the lights were dim and the tables were far apart; her smile was perfect, suggestive and mysterious, as she gestured to their table. When she departed with their orders, Tali reached up to her visor.

"Tali? What are you … oh, wonderful!" Shepard laughed; the mirrored visor had faded away to clear, perfect transparency. There were no jaw-plates, no segmented neck – just her lover's face, smiling nervously.

Shepard took one of her hands in both of hers, placing a slow kiss on her knuckles. "Perfect"

/ - / - / - / -

They strolled up the gangplank onto the Normandy, glued at the hip. The restaurant had been perfect. A dextro- and levo- food menu, full bar, and staff who barely spoke had lent an atmosphere of normalcy, as though Humans and Quarians fell in love every day.

"mmm, Shepard, I'm ready to go to bed." Tali grinned through her visor, teasing her fingers over the flesh of Shepard's breasts.

"Not yet."

They entered the Normandy, found it empty and dark – except for the bridge-station displays, each of which was showing a simulated candle, flickering their light across the deck.

Tali whirled, eyes bright. "Shepard, it's …"

"Shh." She interrupted. "Follow the candles, and I'll be with you soon." She slapped Tali's ass – hard – through the suit; the Quarian giggled as she strutted down the bridge neck.

"EDI?" Shepard whispered.

Her holoprojection pad blinked, but didn't illuminate. "Yes, Commander Shepard."

"Take us out, quick as you can."

"Acknowledged."

Shepard waited until Tali had disappeared down the elevator before opening the repel-boarders locker by the airlock. She took the carefully wrapped presents she'd stashed before their date, and made her way to the elevator.

When she came out, she was in the hangar bay – but the hangar was empty. No Kodiak, no Hammerhead – safely stowed with C-SEC. No cargo, or supplies – those were in a warehouse, where Thane and Grunt were hopefully adding to them. No distractions – just dozens and dozens of holo-displays, each showing a flickering orange candle. In the center, at the end of a path of synthetic rose petals, stood Tali.

Shepard walked carefully toward her, drinking in the sight. Wordlessly, she handed over the gift.

"Should I open this now?"

Her breath was catching in her throat; "Yes, please."

Tali carefully slit the packaging, opened the box – gasped. She looked up, eyes searching Shepard's, mouth open just a touch. "Shepard, …?"

"Take them." Tali nodded, lifting the silvery bracelets – cuffs, almost, each one two inches long – in her hands. They were oddly heavy for being so thin, and shone in the dim light. Shepard took the box from her and put it aside; expertly engaged Tali's forearm seals and slipped off her gloves.

"What are you doing?" it was a husky whisper.

"Marking you as mine."

"Ohh …"

Shepard slipped the bracelets over Tali's wrists, feeling them click shut; they were seamless, as promised. She'd have to tip that Volus again in the morning – she traced her fingertips over the cool metal.

"They're not just pretty, you know – they do this." Carefully moving Tali's arms, she spun the the girl around and guided her arms behind her back. When the two bracelets met, they clicked together – then held. Shepard ran her fingers over Tali's bare skin, standing so close – pressing her hips into Tali's bound hands, leaning in to whisper to her. "Only I can release them after they've been locked – only my fingertips will open them." She felt Tali's whole-body shiver.

"Do you want me to release them?"

"… no."

Harsher, now; her self control slipping. "Do you know what this means for you, for us?"

"Yes. Oh, Eleh, yes!"

Her arms went around Tali, squeezing her breasts through the perfectly thin suit. "I even own your name, vas Normandy. I own you, body and soul."

In the whisper of silk and flesh, Tali's reply was lost.

/ - / -

Tali felt bruised all over. Her whole body ached, wracked by pleasure after pleasure as Shepard used her. She blushed, reliving the experience – her lover's urgent need, their harsh coupling. She relaxed into Shepard's thigh, stretching languidly on the bed they'd made of their clothes.

"Oh, I'm going to be so sore – and sick." She laughed gently, kissing across Shepard's hip "But it was so very, very worth it."

"Mmm …" she idly toyed with Tali's fine hair, sending the girl into another fit of shivers; she'd used that hair as a handle, as a leash, holding her head back as she rocked herself on Tali's stiffer sex, each fucking the other … she blinked, smiled. "Then before you get too sick, there's one more thing I want to do." She stood, dusted herself off – helped Tali up.

"I felt the ship moving – where are we?"

"Deep space – a little over 220 light years from Earth."

"Not that I'll ever question you …" she flushed hotly, grinning up at Shepard "… but why are we here?"

In answer, Shepard pulled Tali's arms around her waist. "Go ahead, EDI – deploy the Antenna"

Twangy guitar music swelled to fill the hangar – EDI piping in the signals from just outside; a radio-telescope back into Earth's past.

Every time I see you lookin' my way

Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?

In the car or walking down the highway

Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?

When you move up closer to me

I get a feelin' that's ooo-wee

Can't you hear the poundin' of my heartbeat

'cause you're the one I love, you're the one I love

When I feel you put your arms around me

Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?

Then I'm glad, I'm mighty glad I found you

Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?

In the flickering virtual candlelight, with synthetic rose petals strewn about, Tali pressed her head to Shepard's chest, listening to her heartbeat as they danced to the real, live music - across the hanger deck, and well into the night. It was the last day of June, 2185.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"Commander Shepard – thank you for your time, I'll keep this brief."

Admiral Hackett's scarred visage looked down from the large display-screen hidden in her model display case.

"No problem, Admiral – my time is yours. How can I help?"

"We have a deep-cover operative, out in Batarian space. Name of Dr. Amanda Kenson. Dr. Kenson recently reported that she has found evidence of an imminent Reaper invasion."

Shepard whistled, leaning against the wall; Hackett continued.

"Just this morning, I received word that the Batarians arrested her. They're holding her in a secret prison facility on terrorism charges. I need you to infiltrate the prison and get her out of there. As a favor to me, I'm asking you to go in alone."

Shepard frowned "Admiral, I've got a hell of a team with me – this'd be a lot easier with my squad at my back."

"Kenson is my personal friend. If the Batarians see a squad of armed soldiers, they'll kill her. This is serious, Commander – go in with discretion, or don't go at all."

Shepard nodded, sat at her terminal to start typing up orders. "What exactly was she doing out there?"

"She's deep cover, Shepard – we only talk when we have to. She was out investigating a Reaper artifact in the system, and her last report said she'd found it."

"Admiral, not to be impertinent, but isn't the official position of the Alliance government that the Reaper threat is false? This must be some proof she's found."

"Sir, I'm happy to go and do this for you – not just as a favor, but for the safety of the Galaxy, if there's even a chance the Reapers could really invade so soon. But the Batarians aren't going to like an alliance rescue operation."

Hackett seemed to smile. "Well, then it's a good thing you're not technically part of the alliance, are you Spectre Shepard?"

/ - / - / - / -

"Move, Kenson – move!"

Shepard ran toward the shuttle, firing blindly behind her with the overheating pistol. She dove behind the pylon as a rocket streaked past her; tossed a grenade casually behind her and hopped into the shuttle. The grenade went off, rocking the shuttle – Shepard slammed the door shut. "Take us out, Doctor!"

"Launching!"

The old shuttle spun on its pad, it's barriers already charging for the launch. Batarian small arms fire lit up the shield, then stopped entirely as Kenson punched the throttle. Tongues of flame licked up and down the launching pad, incinerating the Batarian squad.

"whoo … Commander Shepard, thank you for rescuing me. More than just my life, you may have just saved the Galaxy." She put the shuttle on auto-pilot, moving into the aft space. "I don't know if Hackett told you, but I have proof that the Reapers are going to invade."

Shepard put her weapons away, feeling her racing heart starting to normalize. She almost thought she could hear the implants working. "Doctor Kenson, what kind of proof do you have?"

/ - / - / - / -

Sprinted up the corridor, slid left – fired, two bursts – watched another marine drop. She had to move fast. No time to mourn the fallen Marines, or curse the Reapers. Kenson was obviously indoctrinated, and the big mission-clock over the control room had said 90 minutes. An hour and a half before the Reapers invaded; a pathetic 5400 seconds to stop the end of all life.

Shepard leaped over the console, skidding to a stop in front of the large mission computer. Slung her rifle on her back and ran a status check; 5300 seconds. Green lights across the board – the asteroid was solid, Newton-drives ready, eezo online. 5240 seconds. Started the execute sequence. Fusion pre-igniters sputtering, thrumming. Felt the main eezo core spin up; 5208; felt the planetoid rumble underfoot. Targeting sequence initialize – coordinates for the Alpha Relay, locked in. 5140. The VI is speaking, and it sounds like it's indoctrinated too – 5120 – had to activate the project, no matter how many could die; 300,000 deaths could avert trillions. It was the kind of decision she'd been making all her career. 5100. Felt the station shake as a hundred antiproton thrusters fired at once, moving the chunk of rock out of its orbit. 5087. Heard Tali's voice in her mind, took the extra precious seconds to lock down the console. 5050. Reached for her comm, tried to summon the Normandy – drowned out by static. 5030.

She followed the blinking line on her omni-tool, chasing down Kenson – 4710. Slammed her back up against a wall in time to hear bullets whizzing past where she'd just been. Dropped to one knee, spun out of cover – three long bursts, three heavy slumps. 4690. Hurdled the bodies, sprinting down the ramp into the Eezo reactor core.

"You've done nothing, Shepard! I can still override power to the engines!" Kenson's shrill voice rang out of the speakers, seeming to come from everywhere. Shepard locked down the core safeguards – 4320. Ducked into the elevator, felt it trundle down. Stepped out, saw Kenson. 4300.

"Step away from the reactor!"

Kenson didn't turn, just lifted her hands and clenched her fists. "You've ruined everything! … I - I can't hear the whispers anymore …"

"Turn around, now!"

"You've taken them away from me – I will never see the reaper's arrival!" Kenson shrieked as she spun, a detonator in her hand. Thumb flipped the cover open, hovered over the button. "All you had to do was …"

Shepard saw Kenson's hand twitch; 4220; pulled the trigger. Caught Kenson twice in the chest – she slumped over with a wet gurgle, her thumb gently caressing the button. It beeped, sped – Shepard swore, tried to dive, felt the blast catch her off her feet and slam her against the wall.

The VI woke her – "Warning: Collision Imminent! Warning: Collision Imminent!". Shepard rolled up, looked around. The console was active – the asteroid was still accelerating, and it was getting very close to the Relay. She jogged over to the console

"Joker, this is Shepard – I need a pickup, now." The VI's tinny voice interrupted. "Main Communications System: Damaged. Evacuation protocol is now in effect: All personnel, proceed to escape shuttles."

She grinned – good old Alliance. "Where can I find an escape shuttle?" She shook herself out, started to run toward the shuttles; the big board showed 29 minutes. 1740 seconds. She broke into a sprint.

She ran through corridors – 1720 – sometimes barely squeaking through the doors, trying to rush through them. Leapt over the bodies of the dead, 1700, turned right and looked through the windows. Saw the stars streaking past 1650, no idea how fast they were going. Turned and moved. Sign said "Comm Tower", 1620, she ducked under the door and rolled up, sprinted down the corridor and slammed into the outer airlock door. It depressurized – 1600 – and she felt the door grinding slowly open. Sprinted into the starlight, heard the hiss of small arms. She dove behind a crate, chucked a grenade with carless efficiency. 1520.

She ran up the steps to the comm tower – 1308! – frantically dialed Normandy's guard frequency. The Alpha Relay was huge in the background, glowing faintly blue to her eyes.

"Shepard to Normandy – Joker, do you read me?!"

The comm tower flickered, whined as it's processors were overwhelmed. She stepped back as a 50 foot tall holo of Harbinger took shape on the landing pad.

SHEPARD. YOU HAVE BECOME AN ANNOYANCE. YOU FIGHT AGAINST INEVITABILITY; DUST STRUGGLING AGAINST COSMIC WINDS.

Shepard stood her ground – felt her fists balling up tight, gauntlets creaking under the strain. This wasn't her dream.

THIS SEEMS A VICTORY TO YOU – A STAR SYSTEM, SACRIFICED. BUT EVEN NOW, YOUR GREATEST CIVILIZATIONS ARE DOOMED TO FALL. YOUR LEADERS WILL BEG TO SERVE US.

"Yes, people will die." Her teeth were clenched tight. "Maybe we'll lose half the galaxy – maybe more. But I will do everything it takes to rid the galaxy of the Reaper threat." She was warming to it – flushed with rage, months of rage at the dream-vision that she couldn't escape. "And no matter how 'insignificant' we may be, we will fight – and we will find a way."

She grinned behind her helmet. "That's just what humans do."

KNOW THIS, AS YOU DIE IN VAIN: YOUR TIME WILL COME. YOUR SPECIES WILL FALL. PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR THE ARRIVAL.

Her comm crackled as the projection faded away. "…ander Shepard! Normandy to Commander Shepard, we are inbound for pickup!"

"Roger that, Joker! Let's get the hell out of here!" She dove into the open airlock, collapsed against the bulkhead. The inner door opened, and she ran to Joker's side.

They were racing the asteroid – Joker's hands flew across the controls, sending the activation commands. The Relay spun up – Joker sent the destination protocols, and the Relay shifted in its orbit.

"All hands, brace for impact!" She screamed into her comm.

Joker brought the Normandy alongside; nothing could be seen out the starboard viewports except the huge mass of the asteroid, growing every second. Tendrils of energy arced out of the Relay, caught on the Normandy! With a blur, they were through the relay.

Shepard sprinted to the galaxy map, yelling to EDI to update the sensor feeds – She saw the rippling rings the supernova wash out of the system they'd just left. When the map switched the system to red, she slumped over.

"It's over" she whispered, finally releasing her helmet. "It's over."

/ - / - / - / -

She was in the medbay, stretching on the exam table. Dr. Chakwas had cornered Hackett on his way through the doors, buying Shepard a few more seconds of peace. When he came through, he looked … tired.

"Sounds like you went through hell down there, Shepard. How are you feeling?"

"Fine – no more dreams, if that's what you mean." She scrubbed a hand over her jaw. "I … wasn't expecting to see you here."

"You went out there as a favor to me, so I decided to debrief you in person …"

Shepard nodded, straightened her bearing. Hackett did the same, assuming an effortless parade rest.

"… but that was before the mass relay exploded, and destroyed an entire Batarian system!" Now he looked angry; She winced.

"Sir, have you heard any intel about what happened?"

He glared down at her. "No. All I know is that I sent you out to break Amanda Kenson out of prison, and now an entire system is destroyed! I'm hoping you can fill in the 'leap of logic' between those two events."

She stood from the table, and retrieved a datapad from the stand. Wordlessly, she handed it to the Admiral, then stood to parade rest to give her report.

"Kenson said the Reapers were the galaxy's salvation. Then she captured and sedated me, and held me against my will. She wasn't willing to stop the invasion, so I did what had to be done."

"Sounds like Amanda was Indoctrinated. Well that's a damn shame." Hackett slumped, stole a breath before continuing. "And you believe the reaper invasion really was a threat?"

"No doubt about it – we literally had minutes to spare."

"I'm sure all the details are in your report." Years of experience with 'field reports' gave a sardonic lift to his voice. "I won't lie to you, Shepard, the Batarians will want blood, and there's just enough evidence for a witch hunt. We don't want war with the Batarians, not with the Reapers at the galaxy's edge."

"What are you saying?" She felt her stomach sinking.

"You did what you did for the best of reasons, but there were more than 300 000 batarians' in that system – all dead, now."

"Any sacrifice is worth stopping a Reaper invasion!"

"I happen to agree with you, and I'm sorry those Batarians lost their lives. Someone has to make the difficult decisions that get people killed – as you well know. Unfortunately, not everyone will see it that way."

She leaned back against the table. "So what do you suggest?"

"Evidence against you is shoddy at best, but … you need to report to Earth, and face the music. I can't stop what's going to happen, but I can make the politicians fight for it."

She laughed, in spite of herself. "I stopped the Reaper invasion, and the Alliance wants to bring me up on charges?!"

Hackett sighed. "It's not a matter of preference – you'd be a convenient scapegoat to avoid an open war with the Batarian Hegemony." He walked toward the medbay door. "When this news hits Earth, they're going to officially summon you back – and you'd better be there with your dress blues on, ready to take the hit."

Her stomach was ice. "Yes, Sir."

"You've done a hell of a thing, Commander – a hell of a thing."

/ - / - / - / -

The Normandy was berthed at Zakera, but the festive atmosphere that normally uplifted her spirits depressed Shepard immensely. She stood in the hangar as the loading door fell slowly open. Her crew assembled behind her, their gear in the crates and trunks arranged along the wall. It was the 10th of June, and the Normandy was going home – to Earth.

Shepard stepped forward, shrugged expressively. "I don't know what to say to you all. When I thought I was taking you into your deaths, I had a stirring speech all prepared. And now that we've survived that and so much more, I find myself at a loss."

She met each of them, eye to eye – shook their hands. "Thane – you've been an incredible friend. I'm very glad to have had you with me, but I admit that I am a little glad to be leaving you here – I heard Kolyat is here on the station again, and this way you'll get to spend some time with him. I called in some favors – my last ones, it seems – and C-SEC will be looking out for you. Be well." They clasped hands, nodded – shared a smile.

"Garrus, it hardly seems like your work is ever done!"

"Well, it's not over for you either you know." He gestured with a talon, mandibles arranged in a grin. "You think any of this could hold you if you didn't want to be held? Don't worry Shepard – you'll be back soon, and we'll be ready."

They embraced, thumping each other on the back. "Take care, Garrus. Remember what I've taught you."

Grunt held up his hands. "Bah! I don't understand why you're letting yourself get locked up like a pyjack when we all know you did what you needed to do. But you're my battlemaster, so who am I to question you?"

She grinned. "The perfect Krogan. Head back to Tuchanka, Grunt – tell Wrex I said things are moving faster, now. Make sure you fill him in on the Alpha Relay incident."

"I will, Shepard." With a mighty roar from Grunt, and a horrible scream from Shepard, they clanged heads together. He picked up his crate – one handed – and clomped down the stairs without a backward look.

"Miranda, Jacob – you two would make fine prizes for an overzealous prosecutor, and we've been over this, so no arguing. Liara may be in touch – I know I can count on you to give her whatever she needs."

"Yes ma'am, Commander. Always a pleasure." She returned Jacob's perfect salute, clasped Miranda's arm.

"Take care of yourself, Shepard – I'll do what I can from out here to keep them off your back."

She smiled, warmly, at the woman who had been so cold when they met. "Thanks, Miranda."

There was an awkward moment before the crew – former crew – made their way down the ramp. Tali stood next to Shepard, lacing their fingers together in their usual way, watching them leave. "Well, Shepard – it's just us now."

Her heart ached. "Tali …"

"No! I didn't leave you for the Collectors, and I'm not leaving you for the Alliance either!" her strident voice echoed in the hanger as she spun to face Shepard. "You promised me – you promised me that you wouldn't leave me behind!"

Shepard reached out, grasped her hands. "Tali! I can't! What good would it do to take you with me? They'd either imprison you, or just peel you away from me and send you back to the Migrant Fleet!"

"Then they can send me away, or lock me up with you!" she cried, her head dropping and her voice falling to a ragged whisper. "I just … want one more night with you."

Shepard held her close, lifted her face – they were both crying, she realized, and their hands were once again laced tight. "Okay, my love – one more night."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

16 June 2185

Arcturus Station – Arcturus Stream Relay Hub

The gavel banged, and the courtroom fell silent. Butcher. Murderer. She stood – in freshly pressed dress blues, her medals on her chest. She stared resolutely ahead, watching the memory of her previous trial flash across her eyes.

"Commander Shepard, N7-5923-AC-2826. You stand accused of actions relating to terror attacks in the matter of the Bahak Relay. Pending a full investigation of this matter, you are placed under confinement. You are hereby stripped of your rank and privileges, and are remanded to the custody of the Military Police. Furthermore, your ship will be impounded …"

The world silenced. She found herself watching the judge's lips, but she wasn't hearing his pronouncements about her fate. She heard a different voice, reverberating in her hears, her mind.

PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR THE ARRIVAL.