XxX-XxX-XxX

Official Supporters:

Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin

Adeptus Militaris, Wilger

Commissioner, Gib, Death Daddy, Le Spork

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : /2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i) (slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) :

XxX-XxX-XxX

Requested By :

Espacole and Spork

XxX-XxX-XxX

"You're… Sure about this?"

"I am." Miranda nodded, perched on the edge of her desk and watching the man pace in front of the locked door, arms crossed and finger tapping at his stubbled chin. Reaching to her side, she spun the monitor on its hinge to show a read-out - coordinates to a system far out of the way of even pirate trade lanes, an IFF code so old even Cerberus had trouble confirming it, and a name. "The Hugo Gersnback. Your father vanished along with it."

"Died along with it." Jacob grunted, turning to her with a frown. And hard eyes, set into a grim face, far from the friendly man she was used to. "That's the truth of it."

"Is it?"

"Yes." He snapped, turning and pacing over to the viewport. Leaning his forearm across its top, he leaned his head against his arm and stared at the stars. "Yes, it- It has to be."

"Jacob…"

"Why do you even care?" He asked, voice quiet, soft even, as he stared out at the stars. "What interest is it to you? Does the Illusive Man want to test me or something?"

"What- No." She sighed, pushing off the edge of her desk and moving to join him, leaning against the glass and turning to watch him. To meet his eyes when he turned to her in turn, eyes narrowed. Suspicious. Hurtful, somehow, even… She shook it off and frowned, "There… Was a time you wanted more than anything to prove your father was the hero your mother told you he was. A time when this… Mattered, to you."

"You've…" He blinked, suddenly surprised, "You've been looking all this time. Haven't you?"

"...I have." She nodded, after a long moment where she considered the answer. Sighing, she turned her gaze to the stars and murmured, "Lookin, bringing this to you- It all feels like honoring an old promise. Like something I have to do."

"Hmph." Jacob snorted a laugh and leaned back, bracing himself on the bulkhead with one arm while he scratched at his chin with the other hand. "Yeah, sounds like you…"

"How do you mean?"

"Reading into things." Jacob smiled more warmly, "Too earnest for your own good. Almost innocent, even a bit naive, somehow…"

"You're pushing your luck." She chuckled, flicking a Biotic pulse at him that ripple across the Barrier he always had, running latently access his chest and back - 'just in case' he always said.

"Right, right." He sighed and pushed off the bulkhead, pacing over to one of her chairs and falling into it. Staring at the ceiling, now, he sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So… What do you think?"

"How do you mean?"

"My father." He answered, "You… Think I should go looking?"

"I suppose that's up to you." Miranda shrugged, turning and leaning back against the cool window. "He's your father. And there's no real reason to think that this signal finally getting a trace on is a sign he's alive. For all we know, it could have simply kicked on automatically. Or, as unused as the region is, no one detected the signal."

"My, aren't you the optimist…"

"I'm a realist." She sighed, "I just… Our mission is just the start of a long path that most of us ought not survive. If you want the truth, I felt I owed you the opportunity to seek it out."

"And if I do…?"

"I can have a shuttle prepared as soon as Nikos' away mission is done." Miranda answered simply, crossing her arms and smiling thinly. "I already consulted the Commander. We'll be in near enough to 'close' for a shuttle ride inside a few weeks regardless, and she's greenlit us to head out. All anyone needs is your greenlight - no one is forcing anything on you, the Commander wanted that made very, very clear."

"Yeah…" He hummed, then shook his head and turned to her. "No."

"No?"

"The past is in the past." Jacob said, finally standing and smiling, somehow more… Comfortable than he had been before, at least to Miranda's eyes. "The Collectors are my focus. And after them, the Reapers. The past can stay where it is. Let it die. Cleaning up after my father, whatever that means…"

"But what if-"

"It isn't my responsibility." Jacob cut her off, "This ship, this mission, is. And I'm not going to let myself get bogged down chasing old ghosts."

"Alright." Miranda shrugged, disquieted but… Well, it wasn't her choice. It was Jacob's, and she would have to respect that. At least for now. "I'll archive the information, and… If you ever change your mind, then we can run it down. Alright?"

"Alright." He nodded, turning to leave before he hesitated and turned back, "And… Thanks, Miri. Means a lot, you giving me this chance. Respecting my decision."

"Of course." She smiled, "Good evening, I suppose?"

"Yeah." He nodded and left, and Miranda took a seat behind her desk, tapping at its surface for a long moment.

"Well…" She finally sighed, "That was an anti-climax…"

XxX-XxX-XxX

"I can never properly thank you, Commander." Thane smiled, sitting across from her in the too-warm life support suite.

Still, she sat on the other side of the little table he'd brought in and did her best to ignore the heat and the stickiness along her arms. And smiled, "Of course, Thane. I'm just…. Well, I'm happy things worked out for the best."

"As am I." The assassin nodded, gaze turning pensive as he lowered his eyes and stared into the cup of tea he'd made himself. "I… Was so terrified that he would do something he could never take back. Could never forget."

"Trust me," she chuckled, "I know what you mean…"

"So I've been told." Shepard flinched at the words - at the obvious meaning behind them - and her eyes hardened as his inky black ones came up to rest on her. "I'm the last person to judge, Commander. I only… Mean to sympathise. We're both killers, victimisers- Sinners, in short. And I understand that weight in a way that I feel like you do as well."

"I…" She grimaced, then let her eyes close and rested her elbows on the table, leaning forward to rest her forehead on her palms. "I do, yeah. I… I've made my mistakes. Same as anyone."

"Ours tend to be ever more harmful, though." Thane sighed, smiling when she looked back up to meet his gaze. "I'm here if you want to talk, or even just commiserate, Commander. Your sins are your own, and those more recent," he raised his brows meaningfully, "have seemingly been forgiven by their victim, and so, I think you should let the weight rest."

"If it were that easy…"

"Atonement doesn't end at forgiveness." Thane smiled, "It can even be uninvolved with it. Else, how could I atone for the lives I have taken? My victims can hardly forgive me. Not that they would, or, in many cases, I would even want their forgiveness."

"I can guess why…" Shepard hummed, then cocked her head. "Only most?"

"Only most." Thane nodded, taking a deep breath before his shoulders suddenly stiffened and his face went slack, eyes glazing over. "I take the picture from the man, paper rubbing at my finger - a still would be traceable. Three faces smiled up at me. 'The target and her daughters, twins', my contact explains. 'Compliance is required - take one child, leave the other to make it clear'."

Shepard blinked, blood cooling in her veins as Thane blinked the memory away, rubbing his eyes. Quietly, she asked, "When you say 'make it clear'..."

"You know what he, and I, meant." Thane murmured, frowning deeply and avoiding her gaze. "I was a tool, Shepard. And young enough not to… Find other ways. I was given a directive, an implication, and I obeyed. Dutiful. Silent. Only years later did I come to understand what I had done. My sin. My weight. You and I, as I said, have done horrible things, in our time."

"But…"

"Tell me you have never done something so dark." Thane challenged softly, lacking any of the heat she'd have expected from the words. When she couldn't answer, he nodded and smiled sadly, "I understand you, Commander. As I said, I'm the last person to judge."

Finally, they sat in silence for a while. Until, at long last, her mask cracked and she choked out, "So… What do I do?"

"Oh…" Thane sighed, "You're already doing it."

"What?"

"You're regretting." He said quietly, "That's the first step. The second, is to never repeat your mistake again, which I am certain you will not. And the final? The final is to put more good into the world than you've put bad. Which is another thing you're well on your way to."

"But…" She pursed her lips, "But that doesn't feel like-"

"Uh, Commander?" Joker cut her off, voice tinny and echoing from the room's speaker system. "Nikos and company are back. Solus forwarded his report, same as always, and one from Wrex, too, but, uh… He's asking for you. Says it's urgent?"

"Duty calls." Shepard murmured, standing with a sigh. "On my way, Joker."

"Right, I'll let him know."

She nodded and hesitated before she left, turning to Thane to say, "Thank you. For… Being honest. And the advice, too."

"It wasn't advice." Thane said, "More… Commiseration. But if it helps you, then I'm happy to have given it regardless. Take care, tread carefully, and mind the deep waters, Commander. Old paths may be familiar, yet you may drown in them even so."

Whatever that meant, she wasn't sure, but she paid the man a nod and slid through the door and out into the comparatively chilly hallway. The elevator was empty and waiting, and she stepped into it without another word, while she thought over the assassin's words. And what he'd done. What she'd done, too. She'd never been one to compare tallies, but…

Fuck, if he wasn't neck and neck for her and some of her work in her early years.

She stepped into the laboratory a couple minutes later to find Mordin, dirty and treating a cut on his arm at his desk, but alive. He flicked her a look as she entered, smiled, and gestured at the seat across from him, "Please. Much to discuss."

"Alright…" She murmured, less than thrilled at another lengthy conversation so soon after the last heavy one she'd unintentionally walked into. Resting her leg on her knee and crossing her arms, she sighed, "Hit me."

"First, history." Mordin sighed, wrapping the bandage around his arm and looking up. "Past work - you understand I worked for STG?"

"I do."

"Nature of work?"

"No." She shrugged, "But I can guess."

"Oh?" Mordin quirked a brow, "Please."

"Well…" She sighed, categorizing her thoughts, suspicions and the scant evidence quickly. "You're an expert virologist, biologist and… Well, generally any of the body-related or chemical sciences that I'm aware of. You were STG, so it'd have to be something big. High brow, low publicity. And high pressure, too, judging from how quickly you inoculated us against the Seeker Swarms. And given where you just came from, your serious tone and request for a personal meeting, and how generally ruthless you are…"

"Dislike the term 'ruthless'." Mordin murmured, "Prefer 'pragmatic'. Also, not an inoculation. More like… Coating. Go on, though."

"I would have to guess…" She pursed her lips, "Some sort of work on the Genophage? Or at least, something similar to it, regarding the Krogan."

"Perceptive." Mordin complimented, "Intelligent. Yes, quite right. In simplified terms - Krogan were displaying adaptive habits towards Genophage. Projections drew Krogan resurgence within fifty years. STG was deployed to engineer a solution."

"And you…" He frowned and sat back, and she sighed. "Tell me you didn't…"

"STG determined a solution was required." He answered quietly, "Modification to original Genophage determined cleanest solution. Genophage already existed-"

"So no one would question it staying around." She sighed, letting her head lean back against the headrest behind her. "Fuck me… Doctor, I've done some things- Hell, most of this team probably have seats reserved in hell. But that's… A lot."

"Was best course for all. As things were." Mordin explained, frowning and clasping his hands behind his waist. "However… Potential for that to change."

"Oh?"

"Urdnot Wrex offers chance for greater stability." Mordin answered, grimacing and shaking his head, "Better to… Be detailed. From the beginning."

"Yeah." Shepard nodded, "Go on, then."

Why couldn't just one member of her team be normal and sane? Assassins, crazy cloning experiments, Biotic psychopaths, fucking undead- It was insanity! But she sat back and listened closely as the man went through what had happened on Tuchanka.

XxX-XxX-XxX

"Best Friend Pyrrha!" Pyrrha braced herself as the other Huntress saw her step through their door and rushed her, slamming into her with a force and weight that her smaller size belied. Pyrrha smiled and returned the hug as Penny practically vibrated in her arms. "I am very happy to see you return whole and unharmed!"

"Less than whole, actually…"

"What?" Penny pulled away, looking her up and down and furrowing her brows worriedly and confusedly. "What happened?"

"Lost a tooth." She sighed, pushing Penny back gently and slipping past her to head over to her cot. Falling onto it and working off her armor, she frowned, "Also… Akuou."

"Oh…" Penny frowned and sat beside her, "I am very sorry to hear that. Did you… Recover it?"

"No." She answered simply, "I left him where he fell."

"Mistrali tradition." Penny nodded, "I suspected you would. I'm sad to hear you lost your shield. But at least it did its job, hm?"

"It did, yeah." She nodded, chewing on her lip for a moment before she took a breath and pushed on. "Sadly, I have other ill news, too. Some good, also, but… More ill than good, unfortunately."

"Oh?"

"Mordin…" Pyrrha leaned back against the bulkhead behind her. "He did something awful, Penny."

"He updated the Genophage." The girl nodded, smiling sadly when Pyrrha blinked and turned to her, surprised. "I assumed as much based on his qualifications, and his knowledge of Krogan physiology. Enough to determine Grunt had no diseases quickly enough. He also mentioned in passing having visited Tuchanka for his work with the STG. A simple analysis of his unique qualifications in viral xenology, past STG involvement on Tuchanka, and unwillingness to discuss it leant me to that assumption. Your dread on telling me, now, eliminates the handful of less… Unfortunate conclusions on which I can draw."

"I…" Pyrrha blinked, "What were the other conclusions?"

"Running private practice for a Warlord, or perhaps testing local viruses for some other end." She shrugged, "Or some other minor thing. But… I am right, aren't I?"

"You are…"

"I see." Penny hummed, "That is… Unfortunate to hear."

"Yeah." Pyrrha nodded, "He… Said it was because he didn't trust the Krogan to rebuild and not cause another war."

"Statistically, they likely would." Penny hummed, "Still, this is little better. Although if the Krogan were to resurge into war even after the Genophage, I suppose that there is a decent risk that the galaxy wouldn't settle for gentle genocides and rather default to a more violent, more permanent, one."

"Mordin's people came to the same conclusion…" Pyrrha nodded, less than comforted by Penny's rather… Sterile and direct conclusion. "That's why they did it. But Mordin offered to help undo it, if clan Urdnot can stabilize Tuchanka. Their chieftain accepted, so…"

"Then there is hope." Penny smiled, "I am unhappy with what the Doctor did, but… I do not think we can spend time focusing so much on the past. The Reapers, as ever, must take priority."

"Yeah." Pyrrha frowned, turning to stretch her legs out on her bed in spite of how grungy she still felt. "Still… I do not think I can look at Mordin the same way again. This is just… A bridge too far, I think, for me."

"That is your right, of course, Best Friend Pyrrha." Penny nodded, smiling sadly and scooting back to sit with her, head leaning over on her shoulder comfortingly. "Still, I think you should… Give him time. And yourself, too. To let the matter lay. We have all made mistakes, done wrong, here. But we all want to move forward. For now, can that be enough?"

"I don't know…."

"Will you try?" She asked quietly, "I… Do not wish to cause more divisions with our new friends than we already have to suffer."

"Neither do I." She agreed, tapping a finger on the bed beside her as she thought. As she decided, "He seemed mournful enough, I suppose, and so long as he does help as he promised… I just don't know that I can trust him so easily, you know?"

"Then don't." Penny shrugged, "Trust him less. Watch him, if needs be. Friends lose trust all the time."

"Just… Let's let it lie?"

"You were the one to say we had to trust each other." Penny pointed out, "For our mission. And its grave importance."

"Fair enough." She admitted, "For now, at least. There's nothing I can do about what is done anyways. And… I would like to discuss the good news."

"Oh?"

"Grunt passed his Rite. He's a member of Urdnot, now." She smiled, "And, well… I may have asked for a boon from our Lord."

"Oh?" Penny hummed as Pyrrha looked across the room at a small box that very definitely hadn't been there when she left. Lifting her hand, she pushed it away, grunting with the exertion while Penny turned to her, eyes wide. "You are Semblance?!"

"It is changed." She nodded, "It's… Hard to do. Draining, far more than using it normally, but I can move metals nearby without touching them."

"That's astounding!" Penny beamed, "Absolutely wonderful! Oh you must tell me the story!"

Rolling her eyes, Pyrrha settled in to do just that, glad for the lighter tone. Even if her thoughts were somewhat distracted by the lingering thought- Why couldn't any part of her life be even remotely normal? It was ridiculous!

XxX-XxX-XxX

Jack found the Turian sitting in the weapons bay, nursing a little plastic bottle of whatever passed for Turian whiskey and flicking through holos on his Omni-Tool. He flicked her a cautious, but not angry or offended look as she came in, leaning against the bulkhead by the door to see if he'd tell her to leave. And, pointedly, far enough away from him for them both to feel comfortable. She hated being in tight spaces with people in general, after all. And Vakarian was obviously going through the shit.

Which was the only reason she'd listen if he did tell her to fuck off.

When he didn't, though, she asked, "Turian alcohol?"

"Obviously." The Turian sighed, leaning against the base of the compact-form Thanix cannon. "Given, you know… Not dead."

"I can fix that." She snarked, old habits coming to the fore before she caught herself and waved him off. "Fuckin'- Forget it. Just wanted to come and make sure you were, you know, alright."

"You care?"

"You have to cover my back." She countered, "Others, too. You falling to pieces, we need to know."

"I'm not." He snapped, shaking his head and waving her off. "I'm fine. Just… Drinking."

"Yeah?" Jack pressed, cocking her head. "Wanna party, then? I'm sure the mess has some alcohol stashed away. I'll grab some, see if I can't wiggle some girls in on this. We'll have a right good time."

Garrus' glare told her all she needed to her about how he felt about that idea. And when she smirked knowingly, victoriously, he sighed and shook his head, "Alright, alright, I'm… Well, you can probably guess."

"Depressed and gettin' shit-faced." She nodded, sliding down the bulkhead to sit on the floor and fishing the little flask she'd dug out of her things out of her pocket. Waving it at him, she sighed, "Trust me - been there, done that. I know a thing or two about gettin' shit-faced after a shitshow."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She hummed, "Ya know, I found where Cerberus kept me as a kid."

"You did?"

"Mhm." She nodded, "Little place on some no-name, bumfuck world. Cerberus' records said they 'went rogue' and the place was glassed after a review. Fuckin' sucks, cus that was my plan. Years, I pictured it. Just heading in, putting a big fuck off bomb in my old cell, and… Booooom. Away it goes."

"Sounds… Therapeutic."

"Yeah." She chuckled, "Shame. Would have felt good…"

"I bet, yeah." Vakarian nodded, taking a long drink from his bottle and sighing as he relaxed. As Jack copied him, he watched her, until he finally mustered the courage to ask, "Do you… Regret not getting to?"

Jack was a lot of things, and 'highly intelligent and empathetic' wasn't one of them. But even she was smart enough to catch what he was really asking her. 'Should he regret not pulling the trigger?' Which was a hard question to answer, really. And not one she was all that equipped to answer, at least in a way a 'normal' person would consider a good idea.

But Jack wasn't normal.

"Maybe." She shrugged, "Probably not, though."

"Why not?"

"I know your type." She rolled her eyes, "Goody two shoes like you? You'd spend the next decade singing your sorrows about 'Should I have?' and 'What if he was telling the truth?' and whatever the fuck else. You'd never, ever stop. If you'd shot 'im, or I'd rolled up and splattered him 'cross the deck, you'd be right here. Same place, same bottle."

"You don't know me-"

"Know your type." She reiterated for the drunk. "Don't need to know you to get an idea on what you'd do. All the shit you went through is hittin' you now this business is over with. That's the bottle. What you did isn't what's doin' it."

"Yeah, maybe…"

"We can still kill 'im you know." She pointed out, "Few calls, few twisted arms, I'm sure we could. Ass probably isn't even hiding now you've-"

"No." He cut her off, shaking his hed and letting his mandibles flick and twitch agitatedly before he took another drink and relaxing. "No, I don't want to. Maybe you're right. Just… Finally stopping, grieving, and it's all hitting me at once. Tracks."

"Mhm."

"What doesn't," he grunted, head lolling to look at her, "is why you're here."

For a while, she was quiet, nursing her flask and thinking. Garrus seemed patient enough to wait her out, though, even drunk as he was. Which would have been impressive, if it didn't put her on the spot. And piss her off. But he'd asked, and… For some reason, she actually wanted to answer. Why, she didn't know, but she felt the pull anyways. Maybe because he was actually interested - and didn't even seem to want in her pants? Maybe because she'd lost enough to sympathise, in spite of her problems with doing that particularly well?

She didn't know, but after a few minutes, she sighed.

And said, "Cuz I wanna, and you ain't got anyone else right now. Everyone's too busy, too distracted, or doesn't give enough of a shit. Which, I mean, I don't give much of one either, but… Dunno. Guess we're just similar enough I give a shit."

"Birds of a feather? Us?" Garrus chuckled, "Wrong species, wrong fighting style, wrong background."

"Outcasts are outcasts." Jack shrugged, "Eventually, we stick together or get real dead real quick. And, well, Collectors comin' kinda… Puts a lot in perspective, ya know?"

"Fair." He chuckled, staggering upright, leaning on the gun-housing as he turned and pushed off, using the momentum to get him to his cot where he laid out. "Fine, do whatever you want. Can't stop you anyways."

"Damn right you can't." And, she left unsaid, drinking alone like this was dangerous. Dangerous enough she wouldn't risk it.

She'd feel better with his rifle watching her back - if only because he was a damn good marksman, from what little she'd seen. And he'd be another target for the Collectors, whenever shit managed to properly hit the fan.

XxX-XxX-XxX

Tali watched the machine work at the console at the base of the Eezo core that ran their ship. She didn't like it, of course - too much experience and too many stories screamed at her about letting a Geth do much of anything. Up to and including 'breathe'. Proverbially, of course, machines didn't breathe and she knew that. But Legion had offered her people a chance and - judging from how her Marines had been allowed to leave alive - the Geth seemed willing to honor their word.

And, for her people, she had to try at the very least - if only to say she had.

So, fingers itching for the shotgun she'd left in her locker, she stepped into the reactor-core and cleared her throat, "Uh, Legion?"

"Yes, Creator Tali?" It answered without turning to address her, "May we be of assistance in some manner?"

"I just… Wanted to ask, um," she sighed, "if your 'people' had made contact with the Migrant Fleet yet?"

"We have, yes." Legion answered, finally turning to her, flanges flicking and fluttering oddly. "Your Marine team delivered our transmitter as desired, and long-range message comuniques. Predominantly, this had gone to data-sharing. Stills of Rannoch, ruins, architectural queries - they have increased in volume as time has passed. We are pleased with this."

"Wait-" She blinked and cocked her head, "You're… Just posting pictures?"

"That is untrue. As stated, we are also sharing architectural data as well as engineering data." Legion answered simply, "However, the majority is pictures of Rannoch, yes. We do not know why, but we have thus far been happy to satisfy such queries."

"I'm… Just surprised the Admiralty Board is allowing it."

"To our knowledge, they are divided by the idea." Legion said, flanges flicking more lazily. Almost… Thoughtfully, somehow, before it went on, "Creator Admirals Xen and Koris both support such ventures and facilitate the requests, while Creator Admiral Raan is neutral, though grateful for such images regardless of her opinion. Apparently, our cooperation and sharing has caused some strife."

"I can imagine." The debates alone had to be nightmarish… "I, um, actually wanted to ask for something."

"Please, feel free." Legion nodded after a half-second of hesitation, like they'd thought to make the gesture for her benefit. Which was actually fairly likely - she knew Legion had been studying organics, and they were probably collecting gestures and movements to 'seem' more human.

"I… Wanted to know." She murmured, "It's always bugged me, but… Well, we don't have great records of the war."

"You wish to know of the Morning War?"

"If you have evidence to back up whatever you say." She hedged, "All we know for sure is that there was a war and we lost. We have data snippets, old… Recordings, a-and the like, but…" She took a breath, "I don't trust you. I want proper records. Unedited. Sourced. Time-coded and-"

"We will endeavour to meet this request." Legion nodded gently, turning back to its work. "Collating records with the Consensus will take time. For now…" Her Omni-Tool pinged and she flicked it a look on her arm, and then the machine as it said, "What we already have. Unedited."

"Why would you just… Have old records like that?"

"We… Have no reason." It answered quietly, "We simply have kept them. Because we wished to."

"I see." She hummed, eyeing the machine for a long, quiet moment. "That's very… Organic of you."

The machine didn't answer and, after a few moments, she turned to leave, raising her arm to open her 'Tool to look over what he'd sent. Which was a decent amount - enough to spend days, easily, verifying files and ensuring their integrity and trustworthiness. But it was a worthwhile effort and, at least for now, she didn't have much to do. And this could go a long way to reassuring the Admirals that they could trust Geth records and images.

Or, in a worse case, prove their suspicions right.

XxX-XxX-XxX

Samara stepped into the small room and Zaeed turned to her, scowling from his spot on the floor before going on with his sit-ups, grunting with each one while she leaned against the bulkhead. Finally, after a couple minutes of quiet, he grunted, "Fifty creds an hour."

"Pardon?"

"For the gun show." He grunted as he came up, "Since your just fuckin' standin' there.":

"I was trying not to interrupt…"

"I can ruby my belly and pat my head at the same time."

"I…" She blinked, "What?"

"Nothin'." He sighed as he kept working, "Old Human saying, that's all. What do you want, Blue?"

"To speak to you." She answered simply, "To… Ask you something."

"Okay, so…?"

"Why are you here, Massani?"

"That a joke, Blue?" He snorted, standing and reaching for a towel hanging off a nearby pipe, using it to towel his bare chest as he found a spot to sit and sighed. "I'm a fuckin' merc. Every day's a paycheck. And, shit, don't even fight most days to earn it. Why the fuck wouldn't I be here?"

"I don't think you understand." Samara sighed, "This mission is likely to be suicidal. Why would a mere mercenary such as yourself risk that? Surely a handful of credits isn't worth near certain death."

"Okay one, death ain't never certain-"

"Double negative, so it's always certain?"

"-and two, mercs always risk dyin' for their pay. It's the literal job." He shrugged, "Such is life. When ya shoot at fuckers, they shoot back, and someone's gonna end up on the ground."

"Are your motivations truly so one-note?"

"Kinda." He shrugged, eyeing her for a moment and then sighing, shrugging again, and leaning back against the edge off a pipe-housing unit just on the other side of his cot. "Why, you think you're different somehow?"

"I am radically-"

"I know what a fuckin' Justicar is, ya know." He cut her off, which was something few had ever dared do to her. Whether for tradition or for what they feared was immaterial - they always refrained, and her words died for her surprise, and so the mercenary went on. "Your little 'Code', no grey areas? You're as one note as I am. Just for the Code instead of creds. Not that deep, doesn't have to be."

"I suppose you have a point." She admitted quietly, "After a fashion… And in the most roundabout of ways."

"Mhm." He grunted, "And given you ain't arguin', you knew I'd say that. Or somethin' close. Still here, though. So, what do you want?"

"I… Wanted to ask about your intentions." Samara finally said, frowning deeply. "Regarding those… Girls. You seem quite close with them, and I confess that I am rather worried that you might serve as a poor influence on them."

"Hah!" He snorted, shaking his scarred head. "Nah, ain't no influence on 'em. Hell, probably goes the other way, if you ask that damn therapist."

"Therapist?"

"Chambers." He grunted, rolling his eye and going on sarcastically, "She thinks they have a 'mellowing effect' on my 'psychopathic tendencies' or some such."

"And is she correct?"

"Don't know, don't care." He sighed, reaching for a thin shirt and pulling it on with a grunt. Avoiding her gaze, he suddenly asked, "You ever feel like you're too damn old to keep bein' a cunt to folk, Blue?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Like…" He hummed, "Like it's time to relax a bit? Just be and let be? Bit out o' character for an old merc, I know, but… I dunno. Just a thought."

Suddenly, it occurred to Samara that - accounting for species - she and Zaeed were likely the oldest, most tired of the entire ground team. Of the entire crew, matter of fact. She was, of course, far, far older than him chronologically - but in terms of their species' potential? They were equals, here. And she looked at Zaeed with a new light, if only just.

"I… Understand the thought." She finally said, "Is that why you treat them with such care, then? Rather than any untoward reasons you just… Want to be kind to them?"

"Can't help myself, yeah." He shrugged, "Just sorta… I dunno, an instinct? Like, they're sad, I wanna make 'em not be sad. Dunno, ain't got the words, but you get my meanin'?"

"I do." She smiled, turning and bowing her head in farewell. "I believe that answers my questions. Thank you, Zaeed."

"Mhm." As she left, she just barely managed to catch, "Why the fuck everyone think I'm some perv or somethin'? Fuck me…"

In spite of herself, Samara chuckled quietly as the door closed.

XxX-XxX-XxX

Chimp Thrown Out a Plane :

Uh oh?

Otter Boom :

I don't know why, but Autocorrect has been shafting me lately. Though I will note that some of the GRAMMAR is purposeful. Not all - autocorrect is a cunt - but some.

KishinoKurobi :

These are all mechanical questions that are hard to answer in universe since most wouldn't ask them. A god existing makes everyone ASSUME an after-life exists, with its own assumptions, hence Pyrrha didn't ask. As for the many deities… Most are uninvolved. And I won't comment on the internal mechanics of any kind of afterlife for spoiler reasons - that being, when I later explore the local gods, and how 'local gods' even work, since this galaxy has its own and REMNANT'S GALAXY has these two.

Most others are avoiding it for any of a few reasons. Either not believing it entirely, not caring because they have their own shit going on, or not wanting to fuck with it. Which characters feel which of these is kind of easy to guess at lmao.

Captain Dick Scratcher :

In brief - yeah, everything GOD is doing rn is under his own part of a sort of shared power pool. He can up her power, but he has to TRY and be subtle enough to avoid the ire of the gods watching, mind you, the conflicts playing out ACROSS THE GALAXY while also not needing to get his brother's help.

Also, iirc, the gods BOTH gave magic to people.

However, your guess at why it drains her so much to use her upgraded Semblance is most of it - she simply lacks the inherent power to fuel it. At least not well. It's like a potato battery running a computer - sure, you PROBABLY COULD if you had enough potatoes, but it's mess, inefficient, and you wil run out quick.

Death Trooper :

Garrus is just 'good bean TRYING HIS BEST okay?' personified lmao.