April 15th, 2189.
The crazy Saturday kicked off with free-flowing alcohol.
Mycerra carried around a bottle of water and told everyone she preferred to stay sober for the day. Anyone with a brain understood why she broadcasted the information.
A group of men prepped an area outside of Haven 1 for the firework set up. Guards patrolled the entertainment areas, with one permanently posted by the alcohol distribution stands and Tiny Hall's Bar. Mycerra placed herself far away the bar that resulted in her first public 'scandal'. Haestrom completely ignored Titus's strong advice and openly imbibed watered down alcohol.
Titus chose to join the guards patrolling the anniversary celebration.
Aurellian joined Mycerra walking around and speaking with anyone who wanted to speak with her. She shook more hands in the first four hours than the entire 'campaign'. She escaped for bathroom breaks, hard swerved Cal Vornic after a game of darts, and caught Henry Lawson observing her through subterfuge.
Hooking Aurellian's arm, she pulled him close. "My turian brother."
"Yes, human sister?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but our favorite person is watching us, yes?" She whispered.
Aurellian slid his arm around her shoulder, spun her around and glimpsed the Cerberus agent keeping tabs on her. He casually carried a conversation with two Ladies of Supreme Justice. "If I didn't know better, I'd say we're paranoid." He squeezed her shoulder.
"It's not paranoia if you're actually right." She leaned on him and sipped water. "Besides, he only cares about success. He treats people like pawns. How informed are you on Earth events?"
"Which event are we referencing?" Aurellian guided Mycerra further away from the target.
She capped the bottle again. "Five years before the reapers attacked Earth – and everywhere else – the governing body of humanity, for all intents and purposes, was threatened by an organization that called itself Cerberus. I recall at the time there was discussion of protections for biotics as an amendment to the Alliance Government Constitution. Cerberus seemed to take issue with this and decided to bomb the System Alliance Parliament. Their plan would have worked except Commander John Shepard and Admiral David Anderson attended the Parliament that week and caught wind of the planned attack and prevented it. On Mars."
He nodded along. "Interesting."
"Needless to say, whatever the Parliament planned to enact at the time was put on the back burner. So, no more pro-biotic rights amendments. Cerberus faded into the background as a group is bound to do when they 'disappear'." She summed up darkly.
"Interesting." His flanging changed.
They both nodded.
"And with Cerberus back in the news with the attempt to steal the SSV Philadelphia, attacking and kidnapping biotics, I can only imagine what they're attempting to do in current times." She glanced around anxiously. "I hope Tabitha and Tia are okay. I should find- "
Aurellian slid his arm around her shoulder and forcibly held her close. "Today is a day to meet and mingle. Talking to people. Smiling. Shaking hands. Kissing babies. Giving speeches. Fireworks. Street food. Street musicians. All of it. Tabitha and Tia have the best protection in this settlement." He commanded and assured her.
Her shoulders sagged.
Aurellian Deltano was right. She needed to interact with the people who voted her into office and convince those who voted otherwise she was the better choice.
"I'm sorry. I don't do crowds well." She admitted ashamed.
He patted her back. "Think of everyone in their underwear."
She scoffed. "Remind me to shoot you later." She joked.
"Upon my turian honor." He laughed. "I'm going to check on Hans and Dae-Jung."
"Botanist Kim. How is he?" She brightened immediately.
He leaned in and whispered. "They're seeking a surrogate for a child together."
She gasped. "I wish them all the love in the world."
Hans Everhart and Kim Dae-Jung. Huh. If they were happy, who was she to judge?
Aurellian joined in the emotional appreciation of their reproductive journey. Mycerra allowed him to seek out the two men and stood there in momentary surprise before promptly making herself useful to one of the vendors struggling with a gaggle of balloons. She helped hand out balloons to the kids and tied them to their wrists. Pollina Gregow stopped to chat with her, eventually leading her to a small group of Ladies of Supreme Justice. Mycerra fell into the hole of their campaign planning for Diyal Bakshi, first the primaries. They sounded confident he'd win the primaries and proceed from there based on the social reputation built at that point in time.
Titus fetched her for a small speech on the stage mid-day.
He walked her to the stage and wished her luck. Her stomach twisted in anticipation of speaking publicly. She approached the microphone at center stage. The crowd milling around the stage thickened. She sipped water and positioned the stool used by the comedians then minutes earlier near the microphone. She made herself comfortable while waiting a few minutes for people to amass or ignore the speech and continue their chosen activities.
She checked the time on her omni tool and decided to start the speech.
The sound check technician flashed a thumbs up from side stage.
She sipped more water, capped the bottle, and cleared her throat. "Hello, hello…" Her voice dampened the crowd's extraneous conversations muddled into one unintelligible blob. "Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3."
She waved at the crowd and turned in the chair to spy a larger version of her broadcasted onto the drop-down movie screen. She sighed dramatically. At least the girls looked great on the big screen.
Facing the crowd again, she gripped the microphone in her hand. The crowd looked like ants swarming a piece of candy. It scared her. "I'm not great at speeches. Therefore, if I offend anyone today, I apologize in advance. Particularly, my wonderful assistants who helped me with the speeches I had trouble writing. I don't do crowds. So please bear with me if I struggle." She smiled nervously.
Sipping water again, she steeled herself.
"Today is special, not because it's the anniversary of Haven 1, but because we needed it." She started off nervously. Her voice wobbled and she cleared her throat. She squeezed the water bottle with her free hand. "We people of Haven 1, everyone in the galaxy, we needed a moment to sit down and breathe. Focus. Charge forward into the future with a refreshed vision of where we want to go and what we want to do. I can't promise the future will be bright and full of success. I can't promise the rubble we're surrounded by will go completely away within the next decade. I do know that if we keep pushing forward, stubbornly marching into that sunset, we'll get there."
The bottle crunched inward from the pressure.
"I'll be the last person to sell you a bubble-gum lie about rainbows and butterflies. We have many challenges and hurdles in front of us that we have yet to address. We are surviving. Learning how to thrive with the new parameters. It's making us stronger, as a whole, as individuals. I look out at this crowd, and I can't imagine spending my days working for a better group of people."
She inhaled.
"To be honest, prior to helping found Haven 1, my life walked an endless back road of disappointment. I vaguely dreamed about a better future, running away, and hiding from everything I hated and wanted to escape. My past is no secret to those who have watched the documentary. To those who were with me from the beginning, it's no secret that I have a twisted connection to a group known as Cerberus. That I haven't had the best childhood. All my life I clung to the hope I'd find a home, a family that I would feel a part of. I didn't find that place until I became a part of Haven 1's history."
She switched the microphone to her other hand, wiped sweaty palms on her pant leg, and gripped the water bottle with her free hand.
"I like to bury myself in work. It's no secret that I attend therapy. More than that, I am on borrowed time. My biotics will kill me if a bio-amp isn't developed that automatically dispels excessive biotic energy. I can control it for now, but I know the older I become that technique will become less effective. I'd rather commit my time to a meaningful duty, to helping others better their quality of life. Not because my quality of life will inevitably degrade faster than the average life span of a human in modern times, but because the quality of life up to this point in time has always been less than acceptable. In fact, the only person who offered me an acceptable quality of life was my former employer, Mr. Nyall Wallace, the former billionaire."
She breathed, finished the rest of the water in the crushed bottle, and used the bottle as a stress ball.
"I don't mean to drag this all up during a celebration for pity. I bring it up at this point in time because I'm your representative. I'm your mayor. 736 votes. 736 people voted for me and placed their faith in me. I sit on this stage, and I solemnly swear to dedicate my time and efforts, as long as I am physically and mentally able, to promote and grow the quality of life of Haven 1's inhabitants. You are my family, my home, my shelter in the storm of a disappointing past and an uncertain future. I commit myself to ensuring your well-being."
Mycerra scanned the disquieted crowd.
"I apologize if I ruined the celebratory mood. I only wanted transparency with everyone. I've always believed that transparency promoted trust and faith. I will be available to talk with anyone that wants to talk after this speech. Fireworks will be set off at 9 p.m. Please imbibe alcohol safely and have a wonderful day."
She placed the microphone back into the stand. The technician cut the visual feed. She breathed evenly, her nerves on edge. The crowd broke up as quickly as it gathered. A few people lingered near the stage conversing with each other. No one appeared to be seeking her company.
She wanted to hug Tia. She wanted to be wrapped in Amani's arms.
Sliding off the stool, she exited the stage, tossed out the water bottle and retrieved another. She sat by a guitarist playing an original song and lost herself in the twanging music and melodious voice. She toed at the ground, a familiar emptiness growing larger within.
She wasn't ready to die.
A gunshot went off. She started and bolted to her feet, her head on a swivel. Confetti rained on a crowd of kids scrambling to catch the colorful scraps of paper.
Swallowing hard, she sat back down.
The guitarist joined her, giving her voice a break. "I hate guns." She said to Mycerra under the hum of the crowd.
"I don't hate them. Today's not a day for them." Mycerra replied disconcertedly. "Today is a day for…anything except a gun."
"You're not the only one, you know." The woman vaped. "Want a hit? It's more CBD than THC."
Mycerra refused. "The only one what?"
"The only one who didn't have a place to go. Before the reapers. I used to be homeless. Renting an apartment was stupidly expensive, and my mother refused to let me live at home if I didn't attend college."
Mycerra considered the young woman. "And now?"
"College is useless." She held out her hand. "Bibi."
"Useless because you want to make music?" Mycerra asked curiously. "Or useless because everyone pursued it and entry level never paid enough to cover the loan payments?"
Bibi shrugged noncommittedly. "Both. Sucks about the biotics."
So many people wanted her to excel and succeed, and none of them addressed the real reason why she couldn't step outside the box. She loathed to disappoint Javik and Titus, hell, even Hackett and Anderson, but in the end, she didn't want to die for a smidge of fame.
"You mind if I hit that?" Mycerra asked.
Bibi handed over the vape pen. "It helps if you only take a hit or two."
Mycerra handed it back after a hit. "Thanks." She felt mildly better about everything.
"Sometimes I visit the reaper carcasses. While you were away, they sent teams to disassemble them. They're too damned big, you know." Bibi rambled. "Haven 1 turned into a mess after you left. Everyone wanted your hat."
"I haven't had a decent night of rest since Haven 1 was founded." Mycerra shared darkly. "Coordinating everything is stressful, so much work. Nobody really knows how easy it is to misstep."
Bibi flexed her fingers and listened to Mycerra gripe about the complex structure of communication and reliance on people executing their duties flawlessly. It ended with Mikal delivering her an invite to have drinks with Henry Lawson outside Tiny Hall's bar. She excused herself from Bibi's company, donated twenty credits for the 'shoulder to cry on', and dragged herself to the infamous bar. Tables set up outside the bar threatened to edge into the walkway maintained for safety purposes. Henry Lawson sat at one with a drink already. She joined him, her bottle of water untouched.
He raised his drink to her. "Mayor."
She raised her water bottle to him and leaned back in the chair rescued from someone's former kitchen. The more she looked around, the more the furniture mismatched. Signs of damage and repairs made to each piece proved the thrift store joke she made a time or two. "Lawson, enjoying yourself?" She asked, drained and ready for the day to end.
Extroverts didn't understand. She was done peopling for the day. She wanted to hide under her covers and shut off the lights. Fast forward to tomorrow where Titus scolded her for going off script on the speech.
He leaned on his elbows. "Your speech was illuminating."
"I try not to be a rain cloud on people's happiness. I know I have a fucked up past." She shrugged. "I don't like rumors swirling about my business either. I wanted to head it off."
"You created a whole new nest." He handed over bad news. "But I raise my drink to your bluntness."
Her brow lifted. "You wanted to talk?"
"Yes, yes. Cal Vornic wanted to gather people together for a prayer at the stage before the fireworks." He shared jovially. "I don't see the harm in granting him the right. People need the relief and comradery."
She acquiesced. Writing up the broadcasted announcement, she sent it out to Haven 1's collective emails. Familiar dinging of omni tools activating and alerting users of a new announcement echoed eerily. She shook it off with a sip of water.
"How much do you know about Cerberus?" Lawson asked off-handedly.
She played along with the obvious bait. "They tried to kill the Parliament. The rest is vicious rumors and unconfirmed reports of bad behavior. Pro-human. Why?"
He met her gaze boldly. "You think Cerberus ruined your life?"
She wondered if he thought he was being smart. She decided to allow him the delusion. "Sometimes. I don't have proof about a lot of things concerning what my parents may have done, but I know my memories incriminate them. Cerberus and the Coltons. Every time I think about it, it pisses me off. But no proof."
The other tables around them filled with drunk people who may end up at the clinic needing their stomachs pumped. She served her purpose and stayed in Lawson's company. As much as she wanted to tell the bartender to cut people off after a certain state of drunkenness, the Alliance paid her for this sacrifice.
"The documentary shows you condemning your parents and Cerberus. I always thought it reckless. Slander is a serious crime." He expounded. "Isn't it better to lay out claims with proof?"
She shrugged. "I'm not a lawyer, just a bruised and battered woman who survived a hellish past. Besides, they made that documentary while I was on Omega. I had no say in any of it, and it's been a year, give or take a few months, since it's been published and broadcasted. I expressed an opinion, and that opinion was included in a documentary without my permission. I believe in transparency and I'm not taking down a masterpiece, a piece of history to Haven 1 simply because one terroristic organization might be mad about it."
"Was there any proof Cerberus was behind the attack on the Parliament in 2181?" Henry asked critically. "It's irresponsible reporting from the media."
She shrugged again. Her time on Omega and general life experience taught her he gave away more than he realized. "In 2181 I worked for Nyall Wallace. Not my place to criticize the media or the Alliance. Without the Alliance, we wouldn't have the prefab buildings." She gestured to the infrastructure around them.
He matched her leisurely posture. "If I won the position of Mayor, would you have served as my assistant?" He asked abruptly.
Whatever game he played; she opted out. "Gladly. Lawson, not that I don't enjoy a conversation about topics other than Haven 1, but this is a tad too heavy for me at the moment. Part of the reason I'm in therapy is because of the role Cerberus played in my past. I don't remember much about Hobalt's, because honestly that place was hell and after I almost died on the course, I lost memories of the earlier days. After Hammy died, I chose to…block out a lot of Hobalt memories. Too painful to dwell on them. If you want to talk about anything else, I'm available. But Cerberus, my parents, my past – I don't want to talk about that right now." She half lied.
"I'm running for Governor. I'll face off in the primaries against Diyal Bakshi." He shared diplomatically. "I accept you'll vote for your comrade."
She smiled. "I can't do Diyal dirty and not vote for him. Especially when I agree with his views." She shared guiltlessly. "But I do wish you well in your campaigning."
He raised his drink to her one last time. "To following our destinies."
"To remembering what life is about." Mycerra toasted. "I'm going to tell the bartender to start cutting off drunks. Please excuse me."
She entered the bar, pushed through the overcrowded establishment, and tapped the bell on the bar. The frazzled bartender signaled toward her, filled three drinks, and placed them on the counter, collected payment, and slunk over to her. She ordered him to start cutting off people who were unable to walk straight and slurred their words before leaving the claustrophobic space. Breathing fresh air again, she gladly joined the crowds again.
She milled around aimlessly, stopped by La'Quoia who expressed concern about the speech. Mycerra promised she received help and shared her appointment schedule with the medic alongside the promise of a trial Nihlus discovered on her behalf. Several biotics stopped to speak with her about her technique and suggested a new biofeedback therapist out of Refuge 8. She added the name to her list of people to contact and thanked them for their concern. Tabitha and Tia visited with her for a few minutes at the stage, where comedians took turns at stand-up comedy to a committed crowd. Mycerra joined the crowd and found herself laughing along with the crowd at times, sinking back into the feeling of found family and how amazing it was.
The banquet potluck provided a wide array of food for everyone between the hours of 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. The large crowds picked the platters clean by 7:30. Desserts topped the night off with the last of the alcohol served at 8:30.
At 8:45 p.m. Cal Vornic gathered a sizable crowd at the theatre stage to pray.
9 p.m. sharp, the fireworks launched. Mycerra retrieved Tia from Tabitha, joined Titus among the guards, and watched the colorful display with pride. Hope infected her and chased away the storm clouds. Titus shipped her and Tia off to bed after the fireworks ended. The slow-moving crowds turned it into an adventure of weaving through drunks, groups accounting for each other, and concerned individuals tracking children.
Laying on her bed and dwelling on the day's events, Mycerra relaxed.
Foundation Day passed successfully. Everyone came together to put together an event everyone enjoyed. She closed her eyes and lost herself to the permitted happiness.
The following week featured Haven 1's social media account as a center of humanity's rawest truth. Videos featuring everyone from Titus and the guards to Bibi's guitarist skills to the vendor's joking about killing people if their secret recipes were discovered dotted the account. Mycerra's speech in its entirety transcended beyond the social media account and crossed over into the biotic community's cries for fair representation and protection against anti-biotic individuals. The non-humans of Haven 1, the Deltanos and several asari, avoided the social media account entirely. Titus actively removed videos that primarily featured him or Aurellian.
Mycerra's appointment with the biotic specialist on the Citadel pulled Aurellian away from Earth for a day. The asari version of biofeedback therapy relied on advanced technology unavailable to humanity. Mycerra demonstrated her ability to flex away excess biotic energy, the therapist taking notes and remarking the technique similar to salarian techniques. Once more unable to explain the why or how, Mycerra allowed herself to believe she may not need medicine or a bio amp to overcome her problem. The therapist fit her into a time slot for next month same day with homework – track emotions that help or hinder the expenditure of the excessive biotic energy.
She met Aurellian at Apollo's Café. "How's the food?" She asked and seated herself. The magnificent view of the Citadel from the table distracted her.
He picked at a dextro steak with knife and fork. "I forgot what this tasted like." His stone face twitched in supreme appreciation.
She ordered a juice and tipped the asari waitress.
"Ambassador Anderson would like to speak with you after I'm finished with my meal. Something about a breakthrough." Aurellian said between bites.
She regret ordering the bitter juice, finishing it none the less and caught a taxi to the embassy suites. They entered the human suite to a group of men hovering over the ambassador's desk. Aurellian gravitated to the view on the balcony. She approached the desk leisurely.
"Miss Colton." Commander Shepard motioned her forward.
She finally recognized everyone. Ambassador Anderson, Commander Shepard, and James Vega hovered over a large paper map of Earth. "Mr. Vega, hero of San Diego. I've seen the vids." She held out her hand to the Lieutenant.
He in turn glanced her over and gripped her hand in a surprising firm but gentle grip. "Likewise."
She blushed. "Commander Shepard, Ambassador Anderson- "
A familiar girl peeked around Commander Shepard.
"Galaxy?" Mycerra asked in a small voice.
The familiar child stepped around John Shepard and grinned. She looked no worse from her adventure in Vancouver. "Can we go for ice cream?" She asked Mycerra 'innocently'.
Mycerra dropped to a knee. The seven-year-old girl threw herself into the hug. Mycerra hugged the child tightly. "Absolutely." She pulled back and brushed Galaxy's hair flat. It frizzed regardless. "With permission of course." She looked to the three men.
The ambassador's annoyed expression all but assured her the rest of the afternoon was theirs if she asked. "She is excused from her classes for the day." Anderson said dryly.
Mycerra laughed. She understood his irritation perfectly. "Ice cream is the perfect plan. And afterwards you can tell me all about your classes. Before we go, there's someone I want you to meet. That turian on the balcony, he's Titus Deltano's son. Would you like to say hello?" Mycerra's heart swelled in relief and love.
Galaxy nodded and ran over to Aurellian with no coaxing. The startled turian adapted quickly and introduced himself. Mycerra watched, arms crossed, satisfaction uplifting her spirit.
"She wouldn't stop emailing me if I didn't arrange the meeting." Anderson revealed to her. "Her intelligence is her greatest and worst asset."
She chuckled. "I placed a tracker on her at Haven 1. She searched for her parents, often without a protection detail to help her. She was five. She also saved my life, believe it or not. Great kid. Great prospects." She beamed at Galaxy telling on Titus and all his bad habits. Aurellian listened, enraptured with the unexpected report.
"Future N7?" Anderson asked hypothetically.
"Whatever it is, the Citadel is the best place to receive her education. One of humanity's brightest with the best resources and safest locations." She smiled at Anderson. "She's not wrong about Titus either. Arguing with him is like arguing with a brick wall. You're better off giving the brick wall what it wants."
"Congratulations on winning the election. Welcome to politics." Anderson grimaced.
She laughed. "You mean the art form of word play, at best social neutrality, and management of society's extremes? It isn't half bad. It is annoying when people nitpick everything and build pedestals they had no right to build for you in the first place." She shrugged. "It's four years. I'll be fine. After that, Javik signed me up for council lap dog via spectre team member. Amani planned on starting a mercenary company with her mother. Tia will receive a scholarship when she's older. I received an email from Aria the other day too. Something about the krogan being bigger than the Blood Pack's bs. Wanted to pass that along in person."
"How do you know Aria?" Shepard demanded critically.
She looked him in the eye, no longer comfortable. "I just do."
Galaxy broke the jealous tension. Aurellian urged Mycerra along for ice cream. She half-heartedly saluted everyone at the desk and exited the suite. Galaxy bombed them excitement and a nuke of information about her new schooling and classmates. She barely stopped talking until they reached an ice cream vendor in the commons. Escorting Galaxy Portman back to the embassy suite, they crossed paths with Admiral Hackett.
Aurellian clammed up.
"Sir, this is Titus Deltano's son. Aurellian. Former turian military." She made the introductions.
"Your reports are well written and critical to our capture of the enemy." Hackett acknowledged Aurellian.
Galaxy shyly waved up at the Admiral.
"Miss Portman." Hackett gave her a stern look.
"I hacked his email first." Galaxy said to Mycerra.
Mycerra paled. "That's a crime, Galaxy."
"No one would let me see you. I had to do what I had to." The little girl announced without filter.
Aurellian cleared his throat loudly. "Let's not do that again, yes?" He recommended directly to Galaxy.
She hung her head. "Sorry, sir."
Admiral Hackett didn't buy the contrition for a moment. "You're forgiven."
The elevator door opened to the level of the human embassy suite. "Sir, would you like to escort Galaxy from here?" Mycerra asked, consciously straightening her back and standing shoulders squared. She placed her hands behind her back, wanting his approval as badly as she wanted to get back to Tia.
He held out his hand to Galaxy Portman. Galaxy hugged Mycerra and Aurellian before slipping her hand into Hackett's. When the elevator door closed, Mycerra relaxed. Neither spoke of the moment, each reflecting on the level of trust placed in them and the importance of their hard work.