"Damnit, Bohai!" Mycerra shouted across the gap that separated them. Bullets ripped past them and struck the front of the metal crates they ducked behind. "I thought you said everything was clear!"
"I didn't see anything!" Bohai shouted back at her.
Haphazardly situated in the back of a warehouse with half a roof, rain poured down in thick sheets creating puddles in the exposed area and pinging off open surface with a satisfying pitter-patter. They stood underneath the lip of the roof, water funneling down into their cover and soaking them through. She death gripped the M-3 Predator in her left hand, long since giving up using her right for fear it of biotically seizing up.
"How- "She jerked her head toward the scavengers dressed in bold red security uniforms enforced with a flak vest and matching shoulder pauldrons and knee pads. "-did you miss the color red in a room full of gray and brown?!"
"I didn't see them! I'm sorry!" The teen boy shouted back.
She clenched her right fist, allowing the biotic energy to well up and flare around her fist and forearm. "I'm not mad at you!" She looked him in the eye and nodded once. "I'm mad at them!"
She launched herself over the crate and biotically charged at the nearest individual. She slammed into the person's chest and shoulder, the impact locking them in place momentarily before she instinctively punched her fist into the wall next to the person's head angling a biotic force bubble. The scavenger fell back further from her. She punched the pistol forward and pulled the trigger twice, two rounds exploding at impact range into the vest before puncturing a third into the person's neck. Blood spurted, the wide spray of the M-8 Avenger forcing her to duck behind a desk.
Bullets clipped through the desk computer.
Bohai laid down cover fire as she lined up another shot with the M-3.
"I'm charging!" Mycerra warned before 'disappearing' and 'reappearing' on the opposite side of the loading area.
He watched her lay down the infamous one-two combo, knocking out the last surviving scavenger.
"Clear!" She called out breathlessly. "Sweep the room. Radio Team Beehive."
"You think they found anything we can use?" Bohai asked as he casually checked the dead bodies and separated weapons from the individuals before rolling them over and tying their hands behind their backs with whatever he could find.
She wiped the blood from her hands on her pants. The rain thoroughly soaked the spring-perfect clothing to her form and hindered the ability to move without irritable rubbing. "We need everything and anything. More importantly, I just need people to stop being assholes and to join the team. We're shorthanded on population numbers and we need the diverse genetics to pull from. You've attended your science classes, right? Base numbers for a population viability with minimal side effects starts at 5,000 and that's risky. We mix the genetics enough with a population of 10,000, 20,000, maybe 30,000 and we have a decent chance of surviving this without a few recessive genes reappearing. Might even bring back the blond and red hair in larger numbers."
"I always liked red heads." Bohai mumbled.
"I know. You've been crushing hard on the newest survivor. It's adorable." She smiled gently in his direction as she rooted through the shelves and drawers present with little regard.
The ransacked warehouse yielded little of value in the moment. She surfaced from her rapid searching with nothing to show for.
A blush colored his cheeks. "Team Beehive, do you copy?"
"Team Alpha, we copy. No contact on the second floor. Computers destroyed." Yu reported rapidly.
"Two dead, one barely alive in the loading docks." He reported back. "Will take DNA samples for the medic."
"Don't forget fingerprints and retinal scans." Mycerra 'heard' the twin smirk over the faint comms. "We need to rebuild databases. Medic Schidmt made it a priority."
"Team Beehive, Beehive is a stupid name. It should be Bravo." Bohai said at peak pettiness before cutting the chatter. "Starting on the scans, Boss."
Mycerra smiled and shook her head. "It's okay to have fun with it, Bohai. We're starting fresh. Live a little, but don't forget that we have duties to tend to. It's a whole new world out there and it's our responsibility to put it back together. Start tending to that shopping list for the camp. Everyone wants everything and no one wants to do the heavy lifting."
Despite trusting the kid's work, she checked the cords restraining the dead bodies and counted the pulse rate of the survivor before retying the cord restraining him.
Bohai amassed a pile of tech parts in a crate on wheels.
"Boss!"
Her head whipped up.
He held up a red gag button and grinned before pressing it. "Space off!" The button yelled at them.
"Best it can do? Weak…Reapers topped that on day 1." Mycerra joked.
Bohai kept tapping it out of sheer amusement before tossing it into the crate with the rest of the 'junk'.
"Hey, Boss?" His tone shifted from playful to sober.
"What is it, Wei?"
"Thanks for keeping your promise."
"We got rain, dead people, and one alive. Beehive has their own mission to attend to. And we still have to get back to Haven 1." She reminded him. "Reapers, drying out the electronics is going to be a trip."
Bohai threw a lid over the crate and kept on packing in 'wish list' supplies helpfully gathered by the Scavengers who saw fit to try and attack Haven 1 weeks prior.
Mycerra added to the stockpile a few heat sinks, four more pistols, three rifles, and a bandolier of grenades. "At least they know how to defend themselves – if they could aim."
"It's a good thing for us they couldn't."
"Afraid I didn't have your back, Wei?" She said flippantly.
He fell silent a moment, chewed his lip, and sighed. "I worry sometimes. Who replaces you? Ms. Votham isn't a fighter. Neither is Mr. Bakshi. The mercs would tear themselves apart just to hold the position. The only reason no one's challenging you now is because there's nothing to claim except rubble and a limited food supply."
"Oh, don't sell us that short, Wei." She clapped him on the shoulder and headed down the loading ramp. She motioned for him to follow. "That rubble is a home, a secure home, and hopefully by winter, we'll have a building to bunk in and stay warm."
"Is that enough?" He pressed.
She shrugged. "It has to be. Each day is a gift, Wei. Each moment, an opportunity to hope and more importantly believe. You have to believe because- "She faced him halfway down the gently sloped ramp. "Once you stop believing the fight is over. We can't give up now. We have a grip and all we have to do is dig our fingernails in and claw our way to safety and happiness again."
"But what if it isn't enough?" He whispered.
She put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Then we ask for help from the aliens. They're not our enemies and they're as badly off as us. We need each other, no matter what anyone says. And that's the heavy truth. You know it. They know it. I know it. Have faith, Wei." She pulled her hand back and resumed leading the way.
They wove through a parking lot. Bohai navigated the flattest parts, the sound of the wheels giving away their position. Mycerra stayed on constant guard, eyes darting everywhere except behind her. A large chunk of concrete blasted from a nearby barrier by reaper fire blocked the entrance off from larger vehicles. They easily maneuvered around it with the crate and met up with Beehive congregated on the steps leading up to the front door, a poorly repaired metal frame with wood panels filling in where the glass used to be.
Bohai wheeled the crate along like a child with a toy. Yu floated her crate past her brother with the biggest smirk Mycerra seen in days. "Good news, bad news. We didn't find anyone up there, but they had a sniper's nest. It's a good thing we came in from two directions and without attracting their attention. Usman, Tulliver, and Barovski are great for hauling things, not so at keeping the noise down."
Mycerra flexed her right hand, pulsing waves of biotic energy through it to keep away the cramps. At the beginning of her training at age 13, the biotic cramps hit often and hard. It hindered her training at school, but she pushed past it and learned how to work through it. Like a muscle, she reasoned, biotics could be manipulated in the same way. It worked. She noticed when power output outmatched the mastery of the technique, it caused a cramp. It didn't explain the time she almost died on the obstacle course at age sixteen, but the theory fit every other time the cramps happened. The L3 implants were supposed to be an improvement, that's what the doctors told her.
"Bohai collected the DNA samples. Barovski, Usman, burn the dead and leave the one alive with a warning to stay away from Haven 1. If they don't want to join us, they don't have to. I'll be damned if I stoop to their level." Mycerra ordered. The two former mercs separated to tend to the task leaving Tulliver and the Wei twins alone with Mycerra. "Wei, take Tulliver and your sister back to the meeting point with Commando R'ila. I'll catch up once business is done here. Don't wait up for us."
Bohai hesitated.
"Don't worry about me. I can handle myself." Mycerra assured him and gestured for the trio to start moving along. The rain relentlessly pounded the city, and in its own post-destruction beauty, the city looked alive.
She blinked twice and turned her face to the sky, the rain plinking against her skin and rolling off shedding the anxieties that constantly crawled along her skin and soul.
"It's not you I'm worried about." Bohai whispered.
Mycerra smiled at him, Yu and Tulliver impatient with Bohai's stubbornness. "Like I said." She gestured for him to join his twin and the volunteer civilian decently competent with a firearm.
She hated dragging along the older teenagers, but they needed to take part in reshaping the world. Whether she liked it or not, no one was just 'a kid' anymore. Galaxy spearheaded that perfectly with her fearless scouting for the turians and the asari commando.
After visually ensuring that the trio set off to meet up with Vasa R'ila, Mycerra marched back to the dock area. Two bodies, piled on top of each other, burned among a pile of other useless, nonrecyclable material. The smell of burning flesh no longer phased her.
"Is the survivor awake yet?" She demanded.
"Yes." Barovski answered. He leaned over and pulled up a slumped male into a proper sitting position in the middle of the downpour. The rolling chair shifted when the captive tried to escape. Barovski easily pushed the man back down into the soggy chair. "Very."
She put on her war face. "I'll make this short." She walked into view of the man. Biotic energy welled up in her open palms. "Stay away from my camp, and you'll live. Attack my camp again and I will personally rip you apart with my biotics. Do you understand?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she leaned in until their noses almost touched.
The man recoiled from the biotics.
"I will not hesitate to make it a point and you will wish you had taken your own life." Her voice shook with pent up anger and anxiety. "My comrades will release you now. If you wish to become a member of Haven 1, my door is open. You walk through that door with a loaded weapon and the intent to attack Haven 1, they won't be able to find your body after I'm done."
She reached out to touch his cheek.
He leaned back so far, he almost fell of the chair. Usman steadied the chair.
"Barovski, remove the restraints. Leave him with no weapons."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Make it quick. We have business to tend to." She turned away with purpose and walked away putting on the show of force. The show collapsed when she rounded the corner and her shoulders sunk. She breathed, hating that she needed to play the evil bitch and understanding the necessity of it.
Five minutes passed before they joined her. Neither remarked on her deflated posture or her silence. She focused on returning to safety. Following the accepted path, the protected path, they spotted the wheel tracks and picked out boot tracks of several different individuals. Mycerra knew Vasa R'ila wore a boot with a custom sole, the Wei twins wore standard issue boots, and most of the mercenaries that joined them wore one of two brands specialized to the brutal field.
They followed the cleared road, one of their prouder achievements in the months' time since the end of the war. Much of the city lay in ruin around them and it would be years before the city could rightfully be called a city again.
The botanists took pleasure in growing many gardens and planting flowers upon flowers where a patch of dirt wasn't allocated for food. As far out as a half hour walking distance from Haven 1, they crossed the garden dividers sprouting soon to be flowers.
Metal beams lay in organized piles at the cleared lot allocated for greenhouses.
"Business as usual?" One of the turians stopped them.
She nodded. "I think we have a few tech items your group could use. Any word on the comms about the other cities?"
"The usual. More survivors added to the consensus each day. More dead accounted for"
"I'm headed back to camp. Yu and Bohai should have passed through here with Tulliver?"
"Went that way about a half hour ago." The patrol pointed them in the right direction. "Vasa R'ila was with them."
Mycerra picked up the pace to catch up. They arrived to the supplies distributed. Bohai and Yu argued about nature versus nurture and if they would truly recover from this nightmare while repairing a shuttle with a mechanic in an adjacent parking lot. Usman and Barovski decided to have lunch. Omar Tulliver was nowhere to be seen. Vasa, Mycerra assumed, probably walked the streets looking for more survivors. Life picked up its own patterns, society forming in a pocket of relative peace.
She entered the HQ tent, stepping into radio chatter between Haven 2 and Haven 3, a trend that the quarian started with his map he shared freely with any person who asked. She estimated at least ten more Havens before the name changed out of spite and want for originality.
"How's Haestrom?" She called over the man at the post.
"Alive and tired of religious preaching." Hans answered. "Alliance chatter is minimal. No new messages for you, Mayor."
"Not a mayor." She snapped back in good spirits and pulled a stool up next to him. "Just the leader."
"That's what a mayor is." He replied seriously. "You're Haven 1's Mayor. They don't know it yet."
She resisted the urge to strangle him. "Anything of note?"
"General Deltano stopped in. Spoke with a turian over at Camp Fuller. More food supplies for the turian will ship in. Surviving Citadel ships are returning to Earth's orbit. Collecting their people. They're sending down a rep to meet with you."
"Why me?"
"The general talked you up. Never heard a better report about anyone in the camp. Except maybe the medic. Getting a compliment from the general is like taking down a reaper."
She scratched her head before dragging her fingers through her short hair. She cut off the ragged length days prior in favor of a more sustainable hairdo. "Don't know why."
"I believe in you, Mayor. We all do. Some more than others. We know you'll help us through this mess." Hans smiled. When Hans smiled, the world smiled. A favorite with the ladies in camp, she expected him to be fathering more than one baby.
The genuine belief in his voice stopped her for a second, breath hitched in her throat. She nodded slowly and pat his back. "Thanks, Hans. I appreciate that."
"Not a problem, Mayor. I'm here to help. Working the radio from the hours of 0600 to 1400 is my job. I won't abandon it."
She hated waiting for the other foot to drop. Everything seemed to be going well for them. Something had to drop. Experience dictated something bad happen soon. Another reaper? Maybe more Scavs? Worse, experienced mercs. No, no. The Alliance taking over camp. No. They were needed elsewhere. But it had to be something!
"We're building the Survivor Database. We have confirmed at the moment 8,934 known survivors, human, in the city. That's everyone who's activated the comms and communicated with the bigger camps. We know there could be more of us out there. More aliens too." Hans updated her.
She nodded along, half in and half out. Days bled into each other with the lack of proper sleep and the constant concern of proper shelter before winter punished them all.
"There was another attack on one of the aliens. That symbol the general was talking about, showing around? Showed up again at a smaller camp. The asari got away with light injuries. Whoever they are, they're pro-human, anti-alien, and they don't care about ethics."
"Black ops? No. Probably some asshole merc company or rogue scientists or something." She mused out loud, finger tapping her chin.
"Exactly. Probably nothing special. Garden variety military/science specialist BS." Hans agreed.
She had a nagging feeling it wasn't quite it, but it wasn't entirely wrong either.
"With the extranet back up, in limited degree, we can make contact with the Alliance too without the back channels." Hans's optimism kicked up.
"Keep using the back channels. Leave the other channels open for the more desperate." Mycerra ordered. "We're self-sufficient, not a burden. Trying to be." She yawned and fought off exhaustion and hunger. She expended too many calories dealing with the scavengers and marching back and forth in the city. The fresh rations never quite covered the calorie count. "If Alliance is back on though, ask them to send a rep. I want to establish a face to face relationship with someone. Make us more real to them. Not just voices."
"Yes, Mayor."
"Hans, I swear to the Reapers, if you don't stop that- "
"Stop what, Mayor?" He flashed his best smile.
She flexed her hands. "Just…alright, I'm off to tend to emails and setting up movie night. Reapers knows, we have to unwind from all this- "She gestured broadly.
Hans kicked his feet up on the stool she abandoned and returned to the radio, taking notes on his omni tool as he listened to the conversation between Haven 2 and 3's leaders.
She chose the action flick Alien Invaders to be cheeky, but as she set up the projector and made sure the backdrop they were projecting onto was acceptable, she liked it for the boldness. If everyone treated what happened like an illness, no one would push past it. Someone had to poke fun through the horror, or it'd be a horror fest sun up to sun down. Frankly, she tired of responding like a scared child wanting to hide. She was taught better than that.
Trained better than that.
She tested the audio and visuals with a curious audience of two teachers and four kids. She waved at them and motioned for them to go play. They scampered off with the teacher's urging.
"It's a good thing you're doing. Making normal normal again." The teacher, a young woman who watched her entire class die in one single Reaper laser attack. "Poor choice of movie."
"It's a parody." Mycerra defended the choice. "We all need a good laugh right now."
"I have tamer suggestions." The woman accessed her omni tool and emailed a list of movies she thought acceptable. "Just trying to help." She fake smiled.
Mycerra returned the fake smile. "I'll bear that in mind. If you feel you're uncomfortable watching the movie, you don't have to. It's optional, not mandatory, Miss Vilko." Mycerra returned to fast forwarding through the movie until the rolling credits.
Dravis, the Wei twins, Galaxy, and the female turians helped her set up the largest tent and temporarily expanded the area for the movie night. Rain muddied the outside area, which ruined the earlier plans to watch it while sitting under the stars.
"Perfect!" Galaxy claimed a cushion at the very front a half hour before start time.
"Hey! When we start this movie, no running around and no climbing on people. There was a lot of interest for movie night, and I can't keep track of you- "Mycerra started to lecture.
"She's fine." Antonia Prima leaned on Mycerra. The female turian smiled, hints of her sharp teeth peaking through her face plates. "Her energy is adorable."
"Prima, she's a red head, which was rare to start with. Plus, she's a child. A female child." She let the possible implications settle in place. "And she's highly intelligent. People would kill to have someone like her. You snag them early enough, you can brainwash the most stubborn of them. I just worry."
Antonia's long arm wrapped around Mycerra's shoulders. "Colton," Her voice thrummed and made Mycerra feel a certain way she hadn't felt…in a couple years. "She's a child surrounded by people who care about her. And know her patterns and this city. She's fine. Relax. Do you need a massage?"
She wouldn't mind a massage from Antonia Prima at all, but she wasn't telling the turian female that. Her cheeks burned as she pulled herself together.
"I promise you everything will be fine."
She swallowed hard. "Thanks, Prima."
"I like you, Colton. We need more women in charge. You're doing a better job than most men. Stop questioning yourself. Everything has been accounted for and handled."
"Prima, you need help on those patrols?"
"You asking to be my partner in the field, Colton?"
Mycerra swore her face matched the color of the scavenger's uniforms. "I'm volunteering my services should you need them."
"Right. Not trying to dodge some leadership duties there?"
"It feels good to get out time to time." Mycerra whispered. "It's easy to say no. I know how to accept rejection."
Antonia laughed, the laugh reminding Mycerra how lonely she was. All the responsibilities in the world couldn't change the loneliness. "If I need a change of company, I'll send you a message, Mayor."
"I'm going to kill Hans."
"A shame. He's cute for a human."
"If you're staying for the movie, you might want to grab a seat before the best ones are taken. And no, we don't have graxen. We don't even have popcorn." Mycerra avoided looking the female turian in the eye. "By the way, make sure Hans is clean. I'm not judging if you like to, ahem, but make sure he's clean."
Antonia just smiled. "Worried? I'm touched. I can't wait to see what humans thought aliens looked like."
Mycerra groaned. "It's a p-Nevermind. We'll just continue to embarrass ourselves." She gave up and watched people filter into the area in small groups.
She didn't count on the fact half the camp cramming into the limited space with their rations.
"This will either be the best night in the last couple months or the worst." She whispered as she started the movie.
Alien Invaders, a parody about aliens invading Earth and trying to steal it's resources while killing as many people as possible, played out with one liners, outdated jokes, janky digital imagery and a forced romance that made no sense.
She loved every minute of it.
"Worst ending ever! Why does he get the girl?"
"C'mon! Reapers had better explosions! Where's the budget?"
Deltano carried a sleeping Galaxy past Mycerra. "Might have a few movie suggestions next time."
"Don't forget to tuck her in." Mycerra called after him. "Everyone else, just move stuff to the side and we'll clean it up in the morning." She ordered the large group.
"Loved the movie. Is there a sequel?" Antonia asked, a stack of cushions in hand.
Mycerra clutched her hands together. "Prima, I uh…I was asking about joining you on a patrol because I was trying to flirt. And I'm very bad at it. And before I lose the courage, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow while I pick out movies?"
"I'm flattered but I'm only interested in turians."
"Right. Sorry. Shouldn't have said anything." Mycerra was glad it was dark out. No one to notice her embarrassment. "Just forget I- "
"It's cute. I'm flattered. Could use your expert aiming and biotics if you're still willing when I need the help." Antonia said.
Mycerra cleared her throat and tried to meet the turian's gaze. "Absolutely."
"It's the tattoos, isn't it?" Antonia edged closer.
"Actually, it's your voice. It's pretty. The tones of it. I mean all the turian's voices are nice to listen to, but yours is…comforting." Mycerra shrugged. "Makes me feel safe."
The female turian paused. "Your stubbornness is very…comforting too."
"Friends?" Mycerra offered. "I still need help picking out that movie."
"Yes. Of course. Alien Invaders 2?" She asked hopefully.
"If it's in the collection." Mycerra bargained. "Which I'm not sure it is. Could be if we're fortunate enough."
More adults carried out the sleeping children. Yu helped Bohai up to his feet and they grouped up with their fellow teenagers.
Mycerra smiled as she helped everyone find their way back to their beds and turned off the equipment. Only when the entire area cleared out, she laid out in the empty tented area, tucked her hands behind her head and stared up at the canvas ceiling. The quiet of the camp lulled her into drowsiness, which dragged her back to the tent and her cot.
Some people complained about the movie choice in jest, others threw out suggestions on what to watch next.
A chain email of complaints passed along the following couple of days detailing how the movie choice should have taken into account recent events.
"Everyone's a critic." Hans joked with her while she sat with him at the comm station and listened to the incoming reports about raider activity. The Alliance promised to crack down on it. Mycerra expected the activities to continue as long as the power vacuum promised power to the strongest bidder.
She replied to emails, filtering out the less important in favor of compiling information valuable to logistics, safety, and future needs.
"Hans, I can suffer the criticism. You ever have a drill instructor in your face telling you how worthless you are? And then having every adult surrounding you remind you of how powerless you are? That's worse than some sensitive ninny's criticism."
"Are we going to watch Alien Invaders 2 next?"
"Don't know. Clearly, we'll have to take into consideration the dissenting parties although no one has the balls to say anything to my face." She looked up. "I saw you there. Have fun?"
"Felt like a kid again. Missed the popcorn." He smiled as he added another incident to his list of information to compile and pass on. "Makes me think about the theatre. The one where everyone acted on stage and put on heavy makeup."
"I think they had a few places like that open before the Reapers. There was this rich kid I was a body guard for. Liked to do all the fancy shit. Best drink in the clubs, best seats in the theatre, first class shuttles all the way. Even had a party shuttle decked out in the best lighting and drink you can find. Had three penthouses. None of it was his money. All Daddy's."
"Anyone I've heard about?"
She never looked up from her omni tool. "The Wallace Family. The ones that own all those wineries. Made some killer investments that paid off on top of the wineries. He even made a pass at me, but I threatened to biotically crush his balls if he tried anything."
Hans snickered.
"Paid good money though. Great benefits. Daddy liked me enough to ask me to stay on when Exogeni made an offer I couldn't refuse. Funny though, Exogeni promised a better, more consistent future. I was tired of being bounced around. I wanted a consistent place to rest my head, so to speak. What about you? Modeling?"
"Close. I was a child actor and then I tried modeling, but it was a model eat model world. Ended up becoming a personal trainer. For rich kids like Wallace. Anyone who could afford my fees. Then the Reapers hit. Nearly made it off world before the shuttle was shot down." Hans stared her down. "Where'd you learn to destroy husks like you do?"
"Boarding school. Mommy and Daddy were ashamed of the biotic daughter. They had one normal daughter, couldn't risk the world knowing they had a biotic daughter." She spoke. "I have a sister. Officer in the Alliance. They loved her. Took her on family vacations every summer while they left me at the boarding school to rot."
"Sorry to hear that."
"Don't do that." She looked up from another email, her head already hurting. "My family never cared about me. I won't let anyone feel like the way my family made me feel. Each and every person in this camp is my brother or sister. They deserve to be loved, wanted, valued for the company they can provide, not the skill set they possess. And whether we all like it or not, we're all we have. So, we need to learn to love each other, or it'll be a very lonely world, Hans."
He nodded soberly. "You didn't deserve that."
"I know. The saddest part is that my sister went to another boarding school, one with a better reputation for how they treated students. I was two when they sent her off. We never even bonded. Communicated. When I graduated at 18, came back home, all the parents wanted was me to become an Alliance soldier. Didn't matter if it was enlisted or Officer. So, I did the exact opposite. Spurned the Alliance. I lived in the crappiest one room apartment available, taking dead end jobs, hoping and praying for something better. Thought money would make it better. Funny thing in this world, Hans. Money only buys comfort. It doesn't cure loneliness. Doesn't buy family. Doesn't buy a true home. Just comfort."
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I've had seven years to come to terms with that fact. Nothing I can change about it. All I can do is put on my best armor, charge forward, and hopefully I'll find somewhere. Honestly, Hans, I have more faith and affection for the people here than I ever had for my parents or sister. And that's okay. I'm not okay, but it's okay. Everything is going to be okay."
He let her have the truce and dropped the subject.
She finished up another email. "Get me Haestrom on the radio. I want to speak to him about future plans. See if everyone else is on the same page as us." If she typed another email, her fingers would fall off and it wasn't even noon yet.
"Hey, Colton…if you need someone to listen- "
"Thanks for the offer, Hans, but I need you and the others to see me as an infallible, invulnerable symbol that will never break or falter. This camp doesn't need a human, it needs a soldier, and I'm willing to play that role. So that everyone else can be at peace. It is no sacrifice to me."
His hand poised over his omni tool. "Yes, Ma'am."
"Mayor." She corrected him. "Bohai calls me Boss. The turians call me Colton. Others call me Mycerra, but if you want, Mayor is fine."
"Mayor." He saluted her.
She saluted him back. She was tired of waiting. She was taking action.
If the other foot fell, she'd be a step ahead of it.