Tann forced a smile across his face as he stood among the colonists on the upper habitation deck. Speeches weren't his specialty and he knew it.

"We've come a long way," he called out. His voice had never carried well and he strained as he spoke. "This center is a chance to share our wisdom and offer our friendship to our new angaran guests. More importantly, it's a symbol of the Initiative's success!"

He gestured to the cultural exchange center gleaming in the cold sunlight behind him, counting a beat of silence for emphasis. The building, adorned with a red ceremonial ribbon at its entrance, was Jien Garson's sentimental memory of the Milky Way.

Or, at least Tann assumed it was as he muddled through the opening ceremony's speech, slinging as many platitudes as he could manage. He had never actually met Garson. It was a surprise to everyone, even himself, that she had woven him into the fate of the Nexus. He had no prior qualifications or experience with leadership.

But he held his arms out grandly like a Director probably should. He concluded, "A round of applause is in order! Yay for us!"

Kesh and Addison wore pained expressions nearby. Addison placed a hand over her eyes as he clapped like she couldn't bear to watch. "Tann," she said with a sigh, "no one is listening to you."

He surveyed the deck, dropping his hands reluctantly. The colonists walking by had not stopped. Indeed, anyone who was interested in attending the opening of the center had given up half an hour ago. The angara had been invited, just as first-contact protocol dictated, but after an hour of waiting it was obvious they wouldn't be making an appearance.

So far, the angaran diplomatic attache had refused to even meet the leaders of the Nexus.

And Addison cut the ceremonial ribbon, scowling as it fluttered to the ground. "This is a disaster," she said, tossing her scissors aside. "An absolute disaster. They won't meet with us, they won't talk to us, so why the hell did they even agree to come here in the first place?"

"It's still early," Kesh said. "Maybe they're recovering from the trip."

"Or they just think we're colonial wads," Addison said bitterly. Her nihilism, usually hidden by a veneer of anger, broke the surface. "What do we even have to offer anyone?"

"Our wisdom and knowledge," Tann stated, quoting Garson's guide for contact with new races. "We're the inheritors of a cultural history spanning thousands of years."

Addison shot him a narrow glance. "So we don't really have anything."

There was no saving her mood once it had soured. "The Pathfinder's abilities are the only real cards in play," he told her with a shrug, because it wasn't exactly a secret. "The Nexus itself will be relying on the appeal of cultural curiosities and exports. Food and entertainment." He gestured, extending his hand to the center's entrance. "The exotic spectacles of a foreign galaxy await."

"The cultural center is meant for education," Addison countered, crossing her arms. "It's about teaching history and preventing misunderstandings, not cheap thrills."

Tann smiled very faintly. "That," he said, "is also true."

Her mouth twisted and she groaned, massaging her temples. She seemed to be waiting for him to reveal that he was joking. "I hate politicians," she exclaimed when he didn't, throwing her hands up in defeat and walking away. "I'm going to go find coffee."

And as Tann watched her descend the steps to the lower deck, he was glad he hadn't mentioned that an ice cream kiosk was already open nearby with the angara specifically in mind. Extra resources had even been reserved for the lone bar on the station, a hole in the wall called The Vortex, which he had mostly been ignoring until that point.

Kesh picked up the discarded scissors. She said, "Draw them in with something shiny, huh?"

Tann hooked his arms behind his back as they both headed into the center. "What other choice do we have?"

The Nexus had no defenses beyond kinetic shielding and would never survive a direct conflict with the angara or anyone else. Its only weapons were Kandros' security team. The vulnerability of their situation was shocking to even contemplate.

And so, if Tann had to entice the angara into a peace agreement by offering Milky Way technology, he'd do it. If he had to pass out copies of Blasto: The Jellyfish Stings! while serving tupari by the gallon, he'd do that, too. Garson had dozens of guides for first-contact in Andromeda, but extreme times called for creative measures.

As they walked through the center Kesh looked up and frowned. "It's pretty gloomy in here."

"It was Garson's personal design," Tann said, even though she must have known that. Unlike him, she had met the Initiative's founder.

And every Milky Way race with the prestige of a Council position had an exhibit in the center, along with the krogan. VI holograms created a gauntlet of ghosts around Tann and Kesh, each one larger than life but still a distorted, watery reflection. The salarian hologram idled while a projection of Sur'Kesh's capital city floated by behind it.

Tann's gaze lingered on the arcological buildings and lush jungle of his home-world. While he was distracted by it, Kesh hunkered down behind a counter near the back and held out her omni-tool, using it as a flashlight in the dark. She tapped a knuckle on a panel and when it made a hollow thump she removed it, revealing switches and a console.

Tann frowned at the thump, heading over to her. "Everything was built to Garson's specifications, even the wattage of the lights. There's no need to fix it."

"The wattage," she said as she inspected the settings, "makes it look like a cave in here."

He knelt next to her and replaced the panel. "It was her dream, not yours."

Kesh narrowed her eyes, setting the panel aside again. "And if that dream includes you running things as the eighth Director, why challenge it? Just leave everything the way it is?"

"That has very little to do with it," he said, narrowing his own eyes as he looked down at her.

They started to bicker about the lights, and then the height of the ceiling and the colors chosen for the exhibits, until they both trailed off at the sound of voices near the front entrance. Tann listened, expecting to hear the angara, but then Sara's voice floated through the air. Scott was with her.

"They're arguing about something," Kesh whispered.

Without seeing their faces it was hard for him to tell. In the dark atmosphere of the center - and it was gloomy, Tann had to admit - both he and Kesh were well hidden. Kesh peeked over the counter while he settled for looking out from the side due to his horns. He made no move to reveal himself and, surprisingly, neither did she.

Because the twins were definitely arguing. He could see it on their faces now.

"Sara, listen," Scott was saying as he followed his sister. "I think something really bad happened back home."

"Then we should have stayed and helped," Sara said. "We shouldn't have just run away."

"We didn't run away," Scott protested. They stopped in front of the Palaven exhibit, where a turian hologram illuminated their faces with pale blue light. "Don't make it sound cowardly. I know you're upset that I lied and you miss Dad, but you have to stop acting like coming here was a mistake."

Sara opened a silver drawstring bag she was carrying. The hologram's head tracked her automatically, observing while she put rocks and crystals on a podium in the exhibit. Lucan must have given her geological samples from his collection for a display.

"It was a mistake," she said, placing a geode. "And I don't miss him."

Of the pair, Scott seemed to have more positive feelings about their father and it was reflected in his confused expression. "Of course you miss him."

"I missed him all the time back home. Here... I guess I'm just mad at him." Her voice was steady but she kept her eyes on the geode, arranging it too carefully. "He shouldn't have gone down to Habitat Seven and he shouldn't have taken you with him. It was too dangerous."

"I knew the risks," Scott said. There was a long-suffering patience to his voice as if Sara was a child with a reputation for disturbing the peace. "You knew the risks, too, Sara. You signed up for all of this."

"I had to," she said.

"You didn't have to do anything."

She frowned, pairing up two pieces of blue quartz. "If I had stayed in the Milky Way my career options were joining a mercenary company in the terminus systems or dancing in a bar. No one else would hire me because of Dad's projects. He knew it, too. He thought it was just another great reason to come here." Her eyes grew cloudy while the holograms, towering above her, witnessed her words in the shadows. "What was I supposed to do?"

And Scott, who Tann knew had been blocked from any legitimate work in the Milky Way just like Sara, had no answer for that.

"So I don't miss him," she went on quietly. She closed the drawstrings of her empty bag. "He was always going on about how humanity needed a fresh start here, but he was just talking about himself. And the only thing he ever cared about was SAM. It was all he thought about, even when Mom was sick and we needed him."

"SAM saved me," Scott reminded her. "It wasn't exactly a useless endeavor."

"It shouldn't have had to save you in the first place," she said, turning to face him. "Dad shouldn't have dragged us out here in some weird attempt to catch humanity up to everyone else with it. If something really happened back in the Milky Way, he should have stayed and used it to help everyone."

At everyone, Sara waved her hand at the holograms. The turian and krogan. The salarian and asari and human.

They all looked at her, as silent as the intergalactic QEC comm line.

Tann's vision was slightly obscured as he pressed himself against the counter, listening. He had never heard anything but praise for Alec Ryder. Like Garson, the man was a postmortem deity. And Scott stared at Sara, visibly shaken by her feelings. Without his usual bravado, the Pathfinder armor sat heavily on his young human frame.

Tann had never seen that happen before.

And Sara looked vaguely sick, as if her words were a black bile that had bubbled up out of her mouth, splattering onto her brother and the freshly polished floor all around her. Watching her, Tann suspected that this was what her reluctance about reuniting with Scott had been about. Instead of feeling love and sadness, as human emotional rituals seemed to dictate, she felt hurt and angry now that she had reacted to her father's death.

She hadn't wanted to come here, Tann realized.

But there was no going back for her or anyone else who might regret their choice. Andromeda had been a one-way trip. Sara closed her eyes for a moment and composed herself. "I'm sorry," she said, looking at Scott. "I shouldn't have said anything. You already have a lot of things to worry about and I'm making it worse."

Scott exhaled, looked back at her. "It's... It's fine. I just didn't know you felt that way," he said. "Look, I get it. He was hard to deal with sometimes and the Initiative's a mess. This is our home now, though." He rubbed at the hair behind his head with his hand, unimpressed as he glanced at the exhibits. "It's just kind of a fixer-upper. And we're going to be okay. I'm working on it."

Sara smiled at that, obviously grateful to change the subject. "I hear you're doing a good job."

"Of course I am. It's me, after all." Scott smiled back, gaining confidence as the ice between them began to thaw. "Look, things are a little rough right now, but everything's going to be great. Everyone on the Tempest wants to meet you and we're going to find somewhere for you to live so you don't have to stay with Tann. How did that even happen?"

"I asked him," she said, sounding pleased about it. Her face brightened for the first time since they had come into the center.

Behind the counter, Kesh looked at Tann.

"You asked him?" Scott echoed with disbelief. "You asked Jarun Tann, the creepy accountant pretending to be the Director, to be your roommate?" He placed his palm over his mouth, creating a faint lisp. "Who talks like this?"

"Stop it," Sara said, frosting over again momentarily. "I didn't know he was the Director. I thought maybe he was a cryo-tech or something. He's been really nice to me."

Scott's eyebrows, already raised, lifted even further. "Yeah, and now you're willing to tell everyone how great he is. He's putting on a show for you." He grabbed her hand and nodded to the entrance of the center. "Come on, Suvi said you can room with her until we figure things out. We'll grab your stuff and be out of his place before he even notices."

She took her hand back and said, "I don't need you to save me."

He adjusted his armor, undaunted, and headed toward the entrance. "Well, I'm still saving you."

"I like him," she said.

Scott turned back to her, his expression uneasy. "What do you mean you like him? Nobody likes him. He's snide and he bosses everyone around all the time."

Sara pressed her lips together, clutching the empty bag to her chest. A context that Tann couldn't quite understand grew heavy in the air between them.

"Wait, you like him?" Scott suddenly blurted out, as if the emphasis on the word changed its meaning completely. His voice was incredulous. "Sara, even if you do, it doesn't matter. For one, the guy never does anything that doesn't benefit his image. Two, he's a salarian. You'd be better off hooking up with a geth."

"I'm not hooking up with him," she insisted, clutching the bag tighter. "Can we please talk about something else?"

"So... What? You're just uselessly pining over him?" Scott looked genuinely confused. "Salarians think about sex the way you and I'd think about having a third arm coming out of our forehead. You know that. And what about when Tann ages faster than you? Like, he'll be ninety with wrinkles and you'll just be forty."

"I don't care."

Tann, already leaning out too far as he listened, pushed his entire upper body out from behind the counter to stare at Sara in shock. Kesh yanked him back.

And Scott balked. "Of course you care."

Sara shook her head. "I don't," she said firmly. "Vetra isn't human, it's not like things are always normal for you. It doesn't matter to me if it's different. "

"It isn't just different," Scott said. "Tann doesn't care about you and he isn't going to. He's just helping you so he can hold it over everyone's heads later."

Sara headed toward the entrance, her face flushing with anger. "That's the only reason anyone would ever help me, right?"

Scott trailed after her. "You know I didn't mean it like that. I don't want you to get hurt."

When the twins were gone Kesh and Tann remained in the aftermath of the scene awkwardly, as if neither of them had expected to eavesdrop on such a private conversation. Tann's shoulder ached where Kesh held him in place and he rubbed at it when she removed her massive hand. He hadn't even realized he'd been trying to stand up.

His stomach sank and he whispered, "I wanted that reunion to go well for her."

Kesh whispered back, "They'll be all right."

He smoothed the bunched-up fabric at his shoulder, not sure if he believed it.

Kesh returned to the open panel. "That's what was going on in the hall earlier, wasn't it? Sara's in love with you." She rumbled with deep disappointment when he didn't respond. "You already know how she feels."

Tann felt a twinge of shame at the accusatory tone in her voice. "It's a complicated situation," he said, knowing how evasive he sounded. "It requires a degree of social finesse to navigate and proper timing."

"People aren't toys for you to play with because you're lonely," she hissed, turning away from the panel. "You're going to hurt Sara when she could be with someone else who actually-"

"There's no need to speak so quietly when there isn't anyone here," he hissed back at her, and stood up in a huff as he pulled on his sleeve hard enough to strain the stitching. Someone else rang in his auditory canals, evoking that irritation - that possessive urge, he realized - that made him want to exile whoever the shiny, polished someone might be. He said, "I was in the process of carefully handling the situation until you decided to break down my door."

Kesh thought that over. "There was definitely some handling going on."

Tann stared at her, confused by the sudden amusement in her voice. In the silence, the full weight of the memory of his hands all over Sara on the couch hit him. Tann looked away, angry and embarrassed while his horns burned. He hadn't meant it like that.

And Kesh sighed. She rubbed a palm over her crest like she was internally battling with herself and would rather be anywhere else. But she eventually asked, "Well, what are you going to do?"

Tann straightened his uniform, waging his own mental battle about whether he wanted to confide in Kesh of all people. It was a private matter. He hadn't had many of those on Sur'Kesh. But Kesh, at least, would be honest with him. He had to admit she had more integrity than most people on the station.

"I was planning to indulge her desire to go on a date," he confessed, his gaze drifting toward the holograms. They still witnessed everything, uncannily. The krogan hologram tilted its wide head in surprise and when he looked at Kesh, she was mirroring the movement. "But the Pathfinder isn't wrong," he added. "It won't be exactly the same between us, biologically speaking."

And, as the Director, he knew he should be stepping aside and encouraging Sara to have normal human experiences. But while the way he felt about her would never be the same as a human, he did feel something. It could be summed up in two very unprofessional, very selfish words.

He would never divulge those words to Kesh.

Thankfully, Kesh didn't push for details. She closed the panel as the center's lights brightened around them. "Sara seems to understand that pretty well," she said. "You heard her. Maybe you could work something out if you talk to her about it." She paused as she thought it over, rumbling faintly. "Just stay out of the whole thing between her and her family."

Tann hadn't planned to interfere. "Why?"

"That's a mess, Number Eight." She turned off her omni-tool and it dimmed on her wrist. "If you step into it, you'll never be able to step out of it again."

It was probably good advice. Tann blinked, feeling strangely exposed beneath the bright lights. "Kesh," he said, tilting his horns and peering down at her. "Why are you helping me with this?"

"Beats me," she said bluntly, but when his eyelids dropped in confusion she offered him a good-natured shrug. "I think I just like you better when you're thinking about someone other than yourself all the time. Try not to make me regret it."

That was fair enough, he supposed. Her assistance might even call for reciprocation. He gestured upward, heading toward the back entrance. "You may keep the lights at this level if it pleases you, Superintendent."

Kesh rumbled a little as if she already regretted it. Then she swore under her breath, sounding shockingly like her grandfather, Drack. And Tann stopped, looking back over his shoulder. With the lights at full power, the holograms had all disappeared like phantoms in a sunrise.

They opened the panel again, bickering far less than before.