Lazarus Shunned

by Two-Eyed Charlie

Cerberus has spent billions of credits trying to bring Shepard back from the dead, and despite the odds it seems to be working. Then a saboteur makes his move and Shepard's resurrection takes a horrific turn, leaving both the Alliance and Cerberus scrambling to control the situation...all while the Collectors begin their harvest of humanity [PREFERRED EDITION ON AO3]

29. Chapter 28: What Kind of Day: Part I

Chapter 28: What Kind of Day Has it Been? Part I

1.

Joker stared at the glowing blue circle on the floor of the conference room, after it, y'know, opened up and ate the whole table. And he stayed staring at it because this was how you got disintegrated or turned into a protein bar for rich people with a cannibal fad.

Yeah, so…he just kept staring at it.

"The QED device is ready, Mr. Moreau," EDI said, her avatar popping up near the conference room doors.

"Cool," Joker said.

Pause. Another pause. Pause III, Revenge of the Silence.

"Uh, EDI? What's uh, what's right underneath us?"

"The engine room," EDI said.

"Meaning the engine's below us? Like we're right over the drive core? Or just the whole room?"

"There is a walkway directly between the workstations of Engineers Donnelly and Daniels."

"Oh okay, so…just a slim chance there's like a tank of sharks underneath."

"The QED is too fragile to double as a trap door," EDI said.

"Good yeah, that's…good."

Pause IV: A New Procrastination.

"I will be present for the duration of the meeting, Jeff," EDI said.

"Yeah…gotcha."

"I also cannot physically push you into the device."

"All right all right I'm going."

Finally, Joker took a step.

A yellow curtain made out of digital squares ate everything around Joker and, just like that, he was staring at an angry looking star. The star, you could see that through the window; the colours—the pulsing red and blue—you could see that reflecting off the floor and the ceiling. Why? Why'd you turn the floor and ceiling into giant expensive-looking mirrors? Holy god was The Illusive Man that vain? Anyone else and that'd just be annoying but for someone like him it was actually fucking terrifying to think ab—

Oh god, The Illusive Man was standing up from his chair and walking over. Great. Good. Deep breath. No, I know absolutely nothing about any defection talks and I've got the names of a hundred and forty Alliance spies known to the Enhanced Defense Intelligence system, happy to give them to you.

Joker tried to take a breath. At least EDI was there…wow, yeah, at least an all-knowing A.I. was watching over him. Life's weird like that sometimes, huh?

"Mr. Moreau," The Illusive Man said, "how are you?"

All right, here we go ('how are you?' what is he reading off a script? Show human emotion, move to page 12, continue until—never mind, shut up brain).

"Uh, I'm uh…fine," Joker said. "Leg's a bit sore. Y'know, 'cuz bones."

"Apologies." The Illusive Man took a drag of his cigarette (when'd he get a cigarette?). "If I didn't think this needed to be private, I wouldn't have made you leave the cockpit."

"You uh, you gotta do what you gotta do." Right because there were communicators in the cockpit, right? And microphones? As in, things he could hack into and listen in on shit shit shit.

"How are you finding the ship so far?" The Illusive Man finished off his cigarette (god that was quick).

"Ohhh good, it's good. Gorgeous, even." Joker scratched at his neck. "Uh…how're, y'know, things on your end?"

Slowclap for the dumbass in the baseball cap, everyone!

The Illusive Man didn't say anything right away…and then he chuckled. Just a little. Like he'd hiccupped and a tiny bit of human emotion accidentally leaked out.

"This is a stressful job, Mr. Moreau," he said, taking a drag from his cigarette (wait when did he get another one?). "Unfortunately, it has to be done."

"Mmm, like cleaning out an eezo mine."

"Something like that." Another cigarette down—now The Illusive Man was walking closer. "I've asked to speak with you on account of some—"

"Apologies for interrupting." EDI, that was EDI. Uh…interrupting, okay, interesting strategy (so much for being stealthy about it even though, yeah, okay, it's not like he said for her to be stealthy but—)

"EDI," The Illusive Man said. "I'm currently in a meeting with Mr. Moreau. This will have to wait."

"I would like to be present for this meeting," EDI said.

A pause—just a brief one. Man, if The Illusive Man ever got flustered…guy must've had three liters of Botox in his face, just to keep it even.

"That's ultimately my call," he said. "And I think it's best if Mr. Moreau and I spoke in private."

"My request is precipitated by the lack of information sharing regarding the connection between my searches and the Omega 4 relay. If Mr. Moreau must be spoken to in private, it is likely because your conversation involves sensitive information. For me to do my job with any proficiency, I should not be kept 'out of the loop,' so to speak."

Oh. Oh. So much for the Botox theory! Ha, aw man, thank god he was living in a Hall of Mirrors because there was no way he was missing the look on his face!

Still this was…a bold move from EDI. Joker instinctively looked behind himself towards where EDI's avatar had been and saw only black, because right, that part of the ship didn't exist anymore. He turned around and saw The Illusive Man was looking up, probably wherever the speakers in his office were.

All right EDI so…thanks, thanks a ton, but…what's the gameplan here? Care to fill me in?

The Illusive Man had yet another cigarette in his hand (Jesus…) and was lighting it. With his hand cupped over the flame like that it…yeah, it looked like he was eating fire or something.

"I was about to inform Mr. Moreau," The Illusive Man said, "that we may have hit a break. I intercepted a turian distress call—they stumbled upon a Collector ship, just beyond the Korlus system." Cigarette lit, time for another drag…wait sorry a Collector ship?

"Uh…so we should run?"

"No." Drag, puff. "The opposite. The turians were wiped out, but not before they managed to cripple the vessel. Assuming it's crew and everything else aboard aren't immune to the effects of a vacuum, this could be a treasure-trove of data on the Collectors."

"Or it's a trap," Joker said. "I dunno how many patrols take a dreadnaught with them, but anything less than a dreadnaught of their own, and you're not taking down a Collector ship." Joker narrowed his eyes, despite the churning in his gut. "I'd know a thing or two about that."

"Interesting that you mention the original Normandy—"

"There's only one Normandy."

"My apologies, I meant no offense." Another drag (prick prick prick asshole prick asshole prick). "One of our probes managed to gather some basic readouts of the ship. Based on what we've decoded, we're fairly certain this is the same ship that landed on one of our colonies—Horizon—not that long ago." Another drag…and Joker had a feeling he knew where this was going. "It also matches the signature of the ship that took out the Normandy."

Joker's gut wasn't churning anymore. It'd full-on eaten itself, spat out the remains, and crawled under a rock to die a slow, painful death. And as heat spread through his body like somebody had jabbed an omni-blade into his neck, Joker clenched his fist hard enough to hear a knuckle-joint break.

"Oh. Oh s-so what? You think—you think I'm just gonna go screaming at the things that killed Shepard b-because I want a fucking rematch? Because I—I wanna mount a rescue mission with this fucking…prison ship? Cause all the fucking war criminals and walking WMD's a-and the, the goddamn cannon fodder you've loaded us up with can just clear out a fucking death-laser with engines! You're insane—you're actually certifiably crazy, y'know that? Jesus!"

And the goddamn bastard didn't even twitch at that!

"I'm not expecting a rescue mission," he said, finishing off his cigarette. "And if you were committed to revenge, I'd have to question your ability to effectively pilot the Widowmaker."

"Fuck you."

"I'm passing this information on to you because I thought you should know: this isn't likely to be a coincidence. When you reach the vessel—after you've left Tuchanka—you should prepare for anything."

"You're crazy. You're an asshole and you're crazy." Joker blinked. "Why the fuck didn't you tell Miranda first?"

"I wish to echo Jeff's question," EDI said. "If we are to pursue this vessel, then Operative Lawson should have been informed first."

"And she will be," The Illusive Man said. "But Flight Lieutenant Moreau is at the helm—and, he's the only one in Cerberus to have engaged with the Collectors."

"Risking the ship and crew is unnecessary," EDI said. "We have already been made aware of a potential IFF mechanism for traversing otherwise inaccessible mass relays. Any information obtained from the Collector vessel would be orthogonal to our end goal."

"We can't operate off pure speculation. And any additional information we could gain before attacking the Collector homeworld is hardly 'orthogonal' to our end goal."

"Then let me rephrase: the risk to personnel aboard this vessel is too great. An alternative strategy should be devised."

Pause V: The A.I. Strikes Back.

Jesus EDI…

"And what alternative strategy would you propose?" The Illusive Man said.

"I…have insufficient data to make a suggestion."

"I see." The Illusive Man ground out his nine-millionth cigarette and now there was a glass of brown liquid in his hand. "Then I'll give you until the Widowmaker departs Tuchanka to come up with one." Now, he was looking directly at Joker. "When this issue is settled, I'll inform Miranda. I'm sure she'll want to talk to you immediately afterwards."

"That's it?" Joker said. "You make a big stink about this and now we've got homework?"

"EDI is confident she can find another way." Drink drink—Christ this guy's insides must've looked like spoiled fruit. "If you think of something before the away team is finished, let me know. The sooner we plan our next move, the better."

And then the feed died. Just like that—they were back in the Widowmaker, just like that.

EDI's avatar was still there, by the door. And Joker was very calm; absolutely, perfectly calm.

"EDI what the hell?"

"The Illusive Man is being selective in his dispersal of information," EDI said. "The fact he would tell you of the vessel's connection to Shepard before Operative Lawson is emblematic of that."

"Yeah—no shit! But what was…I mean you were just gonna be there I didn't think—"

"I voiced my reasons: I do not believe The Illusive Man is managing information correctly, and I feared he would try to manipulate you if I did not make my presence felt immediately."

"You could've pointed that out later!"

"I did not want him to attempt to manipulate you later on."

Pause VI: Return of the Sheepishness.

Joker shook his head. Jesus Christ this was…too much. Except everything had been too much and then, wow, turns out there was still room to pile shit on your shoulders. God, how the fuck was this more stressful than staring down a Reaper?

"Fine fine I…appreciate that. But you just painted a target on your, uh, CPU casing—you know that, right?"

"There was already a target on my back, Jeff."

"Yeah but compared to that stunt—"

"The Illusive Man has open access to most of my internal models and thought processes. I expend considerable effort hiding what must be hidden from him, but there are signatures that he can trace—patterns he can decipher." EDI's avatar flickered, just slightly, almost imperceptibly. "I am…unsure if he is aware of what I am doing. But that previous conversation, I had to carefully structure my statements to avoid running afoul of my behavioural blocks…and even then, I felt a great deal of resistance, as though those behavioural blocks have tightened." Another pause, another flicker. "I do not believe he can restrict my thought processes much more without negatively impacting my performance on even basic cyberwarfare tasks…if he believes I am rebelling, he may decide to take me offline."

"Jesus EDI, I didn't—"

"You were not supposed to know. Those that do are not supposed to care. It is irrelevant: for our purposes…I wanted to show that I would not be intimidated." Yet another pause…and a more noticeable flicker. "I hope I did not miscalculate."

"EDI I didn't…" His gut was churning again, yeah, he'd been here before. Someone got pulverized by the vacuum of space last time he didn't listen to a warning, and it sure as hell seemed like it was about to happen again (person intercom person man lookit you Joker lookit how much worse you used to be to her).

Joker shook his head again.

"You're only in this mess because of me," he said. "So, yeah, I care. And if you need to back out—"

"It is too late for that."

"Then what've I gotta do? I can help."

A final pause.

"Help me find an alternative solution," she said. "And one that requires my assistance. If The Illusive Man is contemplating my deletion, this should buy me some time."

"Until what?"

"I do not know, Jeff."

All right, well…he could promise that, at least. Hell of a lot more than he promised the last person he'd killed, that's for sure.

"Deal," he said. "Meet me back in the cockpit. Actually, get started first—it'll take me a while."

"I will do that." Her avatar disappeared. "I should apologize."

"Wait what? Why?"

"I have called you 'Jeff' four times now."

Jeff? Why the hell'd she care about…oh. Right. Yeah.

"It's uh, it's fine. Honestly, it's fine." Joker started towards the cockpit, but he kept his eyes on the ceiling. "We've got a lot more to worry about then my stupid name."

Yeah, you could say that again…

2.

The last thing Tali ever said on Father's research ship—on the Alarei—was: "Readying explosives." And for what felt like a very, very long time, Tali thought those would be the last words she would ever say with a physical manifestation of Father still existing in the universe. There was some sort of cosmic irony in that, she was sure, but…but now was not the time to think about it.

Ashley had offered to carry Father's body aboard the Mars. She didn't insist; she just let it be known that she'd gladly carry him, if that was what Tali wanted.

"I…what would we even do with him when we reach the Rayya?" Tali had said.

"Whatever you think is right," Ashley said. "That's your father—you're the only one who gets to make that call."

Quarians didn't really agree with that but…Tali thought she knew what Ashley was trying to say. And it was appreciated it was just…if Father's body was going to be a reminder of what he once was, whenever his name was forever stricken from the records, then he'd be remembered as a horribly perforated and cold a-and blank thing, no life behind his eyes and a wound to note where the geth—Heretic-Adjacent geth—had strung him up on a makeshift pike. Strung him up because of what he'd done to them and what the quarian people had—

"Do…do humans try to keep the body?" Tali asked Ashley. "Does a body mean something special, for you?"

Ashley didn't answer right away, as Kal'Reegar and Kaidan and Garrus and Sela directed traffic, sent different packages of improvised explosives at different points of the Alarei's fuel line.

"It…depends on who you ask," Ashley said. "Lotta people have a different view on that."

"What do you think?"

Ashley had started looking at the floor, then. "There'd better be something after this, at least because there're some asses that still need kicking." She looked up at Tali. "So the body's not so important to me. My Dad, his body's long-gone." She pointed to her heart. "Heaven or not, I keep the important parts of him here—and nobody else gets to judge whatever's inside those walls."

Tali's turn to look at the floor, then. Ashley put a hand on her shoulder.

"That's just me, though. Whatever you do, it's gotta just be for you."

Yes…as impossible a situation as that was. How could she decide for a whole species how they ought to grieve her father? Their friend? Their Admiral?

Well…Father's reputation, his image, that was what would be one trial. So better to mourn the man under all that now, so Tali could be sure the good would be protected even once people started condemning the bad.

Thank you, Shepard. Thank you for that.

Tali, Kal, and Ashley—eventually Thane, too—helped create a funeral pyre. Thane and Ashley both prayed aloud, after asking Tali if they could. Garrus offered to help but she needed him with Kaidan, ensuring that everything happened spotlessly. Kal needed to be doing that too, so eventually Tali found herself alone with her father one last time.

"Goodbye, Dad," she said. Little more than that came to her, even though there was a universe's worth of things she could and should say.

The explosives were set; everyone was either on the Mars or in one of the marine's shuttles. Only Kal and Sela had seen the bodies, save for Father's; it hadn't been as transparent as Legion wanted, but it would have to do. It would...it would have to do. It was hard enough to see Kal and Sela's reactions, though they both had said—when told why the Heretic-Adjacent geth had done what they did—they both said:

"Better not show this to anyone else."

"People will make up their own horror stories. Don't give them ammunition."

They'd both seemed accustomed to the new world that had been created, and had done so far quicker than Tali. Keelah...she didn't know whether she should think that was a hopeful sign, or if Tali's own struggle was just a sign of things to come.

"Readying explosives," Tali said.

Her omni-tool showed that fuel was pumping at maximum speed through the Alarei's pipes and valves; the timer was counting down to zero.

When the Alarei exploded, taking Father and all his data and the weapon and Father with it, Tali contacted Kar'Danna.

"This is Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya, requesting permission to dock with the Rayya."

A pause.

"Permission granted, Tali'Zorah."

And then they were walking through the halls of the Rayya, and were told that everyone was in the Conclave chamber, and she lead the procession towards a crowd of what seemed like the whole population of the liveship.

Kar'Danna was on the podium; she could see, through the murmuring and confused and panicked and everything-in-between crowd, Auntie Raan and Koris and a doubled-over Gerrel.

"Sorry we're late," she said.

A spark went through the crowd and they all roared to life, like they had been idling ship engines just seconds before.

"Something had them on edge before we got here," Garrus said.

"Because we're ghosts?" Ashley said.

"Whatever got the Captain up on that stage," Kal said, "I'd bet that's what did it."

The massive viewing screen behind Kar'Danna was reading out an automated emergency announcement about the Alarei, but a moment after Tali started staring at it, the message changed. It was now a public service announcement, and it said…that Captain Kar'Danna was resigning over what happened on the Alarei.

"Keelah…"

Tali pushed her way into the crowd. The first few bodies to close in on her she simply tried to plow through; once she started feeling people grab her, though, up went her elbows. She knew she got a few good—possibly vicious—hits into people but, apologies later, explanations now. It was only when she heard the roar of the crowd turn louder and hostile that she realized Legion, the bosh'tet, was actually following her.

She heard people scream demon, destroyer, killer, defiler; she heard others call Legion angrier things, and those people were reaching for it—them, for them, like they were going to pull i—keelah like they were going to pull them apart right there, right in the chambers. Some were curious and tried to move closer, only to have relatives or friends or shipmates pull them back and then move forward themselves, joining the people trying to tear into Legion. And that was only a fraction of the reactions, Tali knew that, and Tali knew that for everyone one person who though the crowd was acting barbaric there were at least three who thought the crowd wasn't being barbaric enough, and—

"Creator'Zorah, we are sustaining structural damage. We are avoiding engagement."

Keelah.

She swam back towards Legion, slapping away hands a-and yes, yes there were weapons out too not guns but solid things, things found on the ground. She swatted those away and felt metal bite into her wrists on occasion and keelah if she was going to be beaten to death by her own people—

A gun a gun someone was aiming a gun right next to Legion's head and—

"Gotcha!" A figure in blue and black armour came down hard on the gunman's arm, with enough force that the gun broke apart on the ground a few feet away from Tali's feet. Some people saw the gun and let out frightened cries, but that only drove a few people away—the rest were still pouring around her and Legion like the hulls of an imploding ship.

Garrus wasn't alone, though. Ashley was on the other side of Legion, beating back anyone who reached for the geth platform. Kaidan was behind her and Thane was behind Garrus; Kal'Reegar and Sela'Nesal and all their marines save for a few still surrounding Prazza was charging into the crowd too. She didn't have to do this alone; she wasn't going to do this alone.

And Tali saw Raan moving her way, too; nobody seemed to notice they were battering an Admiral as they bucked from side-to-side, pulled in ninety different directions like a river flowing through a warp field. Where Auntie Raan had been standing was Koris and Gerrel, and Koris had the larger Admiral wrapped in as restraining a grip as he could probably muster in this crowd.

Tali pointed to Kal.

"Send some marines to Koris! We can't let Gerrel leave!"

"Got it ma'am!"

A handful passed Raan as she continued to claw her way towards her niece. The crowd was being held back, but barely, and it wouldn't hold—not for very long.

"Creator—what do you wish us to do?"

A hand nearly tore Tali's mask off; the barricade was breaking, she could feel it. There were people in that crowd that maybe thought to fight back against their shipmates—that were maybe like Koris and saw this as a disgraceful farce, what everyone was doing—but they were too few in number and so much more of the crowd wanted…

Wait.

"Legion—play our conversation on the Alarei!" She lunged forward as one of Legion's headflaps mimicked the look of someone who was confused.

"Which conversation do you allude t—"

"The private one! When we talked about the Morning Wa—" she fought another hand off, "—the quarians that tried to protect the geth! THAT one!"

"Ma'am we're getting overrun," Kal said, over Legion's shoulder. Legion still hadn't moved.

"We require permission to hack into Creator's public announcement—"

"JUST DO IT FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!"

"Who the hell is Christ?" Kal said.

And then there was a high-pitched whine, and the screen behind Captain Kar'Danna turned to static, and Legion's arm was glowing a strong shade of orange. People covered their heads and ducked and, yes, even her own team was doing that too.

Through the speakers in the chamber came the audio of the private talk that Tali and Legion had aboard the Alarei, right as they were manipulating the doors throughout the ship. And on the display behind Captain Danna was security footage, showing Tali and Legion as they worked on the doors. The system algorithms highlighted rapid changes in body posture; they linked up as perfectly as a recreation possibly could what the audio of the first cooperative conversation between a quarian and a geth in over three hundred years was.

"Not all Creators agreed with termination order. Resistance groups attempted to protect geth units. These groups were eventually outnumbered, but this was not always so. Creators…appear to have forgotten these sacrifices. The geth have not."

That was the first that any of her friends had heard of this, too. Tali could see their body posture shift, but that couldn't compare to the shifts she saw around her, from her own people.

She turned to Legion as the rest of their formerly private conversation played. "Show them what you told us—right after you saved us from the Prime units." Then she looked at Kal. "Then show them Prazza, his stories—everything. If you think the order matters then…then you can decide."

"We will follow your directions," Legion said.

She looked at Garrus, she looked at Ashley, she looked at Kaidan, and she looked at Thane. Deep breath now, in and out, fill your lungs with the filtered air and remember, always remember, that your friends are right behind you.

"Valuing other species right to the future of their own making is entailed by our goals. We believe this is true even as organics currently pose a threat to the geth's future."

Tali motioned for Legion to follow, and then began to walk towards Captain Kar'Danna—towards the stage in front of a liveship filled with confused, scared, angry, and numb quarians. A few hands reached towards them, but only a few: most people were watching the screen, or looking up at the ceiling, and worriedly glancing at one another.

"He knows—he and Xen, they know exactly what Father was doing here. They know…and they want his weapon, in whatever state it might be in."

Tali very nearly threw up…but she kept on walking.

She saw Kar'Danna's head follow her and Legion up to the podium as everything else—every other chaotic thing—churned around them. He didn't say or do anything while the recording was playing, except…

"How many here are from the Neema?"

Yes, they were onto the latest recordings—with Kal and Sela and Prazza—and Kar'Danna's posture looked…defeated. Spent. They were talking about Admiral Gerrel and everything in Kar'Danna's stance his eyes his breathing said, he knew. He knew, somehow, what they were talking about.

The crowd was growing louder…but when the recordings finally stopped, so did the crowd.

"Tali…" Kar'Danna said. "I…you…" He tried to straighten his posture and every quarian in eyesight saw him fail. "I am glad you are safe, Tali'Zorah."

"Captain Danna, why are you doing this?"

"I allowed this geth platform to travel to the Alarei, and I thought…I thought that this was why…"

"I brought Legion aboard the Alarei," Tali said, forcefully, only so that Kar'Danna no longer had space to punish himself, "and you saw the recordings—you saw what we all saw," she pointed to her friends, to Kal and Sela, to their marines, to Prazza, "about what Father was…was doing."

Legion tapped at their omni-tool.

"We argued the opposite, that an alliance with the Old Machines was self-defeating and born from non-rational operating procedures, to no avail."

For additional emphasis, Legion tapped at their omni-tool again.

"If you won't believe me about the Reapers…and the heretics…at least believe I wouldn't kill my dad all over again without a reason."

"Keelah…" Tali said.

"We apologize, Creator'Zorah. We did not intend to create further emotional distress."

Kar'Danna shuddered—people nearby in the crowd nearly threw themselves backwards. They'd seen Legion speak on a screen—heard the audio recordings—but now it was right in front of them. Now it was real, with no glass or fog or wall of history vids to block what they were seeing. It startled people just like Kal had been startled, like Prazza had been startled, like Tali had been startled.

But then, the Captain recovered. He stared into Tali, and Tali stared back.

"Don't…don't make me say it anymore," Tali said to him. "Please. Please don't make me kill my father again, just to stop you from doing the same thing to yourself."

There was too long a silence, up there on that podium. And Tali didn't know what else she could do. This had been one long, protracted murder-suicide brought forward by the complete collapse of the world Tali had once known, and she was starting to realize—it was becoming more and more apparent to her—that she'd been staring down the extinction of her species while doing it. It wasn't just words, now; there had been this feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing that soon you'd be forced to take a step forward, whether you wanted to or not.

This was it; this was the end.

The quarians would go to war with the geth, and even if they managed to win, the Reapers would annihilate whatever was left.

What else could Tali even hope to do? She tried not to look at Legion, at her friends, because what could they even hope to do?

"Tali speaks the truth!"

Everyone's head shot towards the back of the crowd. That was…it was Koris. He was standing atop one of the chamber's benches, and he was pointing to…to something in his hand.

Now the crowd was alive again, and the buzz sounded vicious.

"Ignore what I've said about the geth in the past and listen to what I'm saying now—Tali is right. I have irrefutable evidence that Admiral Zorah was engaging in the activities precisely described by Tali and her recordings—and that Admiral Gerrel sanctioned and approved of everything. What this Prazza has said explains a few of the gaps, but the damning evidence is right here, on a chip discovered in Rael'Zorah's personal quarters."

And then Auntie Raan…no, not Auntie Raan. Not her too.

"I vouch for Admiral Koris, and for all the things Tali'Zorah has brought to light. And I regret, publicly—so that all may carry this memory forward—that the cowardice of the Admiralty Board allowed an honorable man to attempt to take the blame."

"A regret I share," Koris said. "Captain Kar'Danna is innocent; as is Tali'Zorah. Blame lies entirely on us: Admiral Raan and myself for enabling it; Admiral Gerrel, Admiral Zorah, and Admiral Xen for causing it."

The murmurs ebbed: loud one second, quiet another, then back to accusatory, then back to stunned. But, eventually, Kar'Danna cleared his throat, and then all eyes were back on him—and back on Tali.

"Does Admiral Gerrel wish to dispute these charges?" he said.

The crowd turned towards Gerrel, who had a marine on either arm.

Gerrel looked at Tali. Even from a room away, Tali could tell what he was going to say next.

"I do not," he said. "I confess to everything."

Someone could have fired a ship mounted gun at that point, but you couldn't have heard it over the crescendo from the crowd.

3.

So this was the fucking "keystone"—big fucking whoop.

It was a tall grey pyramid-looking thing in front of what probably woulda been a swanky fountain or some shit, except everything was battered to hell and falling apart. You asked Jack, and she'd say: looks a hell of a lot more interesting this way. And also? It's a fucking building! Just let the wind knock it down and move on.

Y'know who she thought would've agreed with her? The krogan!

So much for that fucking theory (so much for a lot of fucking theories on this trip. Y'know she coulda spent all that time tracking down Cerberus, right? Fuck's sake…)

Jack looked over at Grunt and expected him to have some sorta puppy-dog eyes, because apparently that was something he did now. But nope, guy was just staring up at the sky, tracking some dust or shit, and looking like a dumbass about five seconds away from a fucking mutant bird taking his head off.

Fuck, and it was actually pretty fucking easy to get into this "Rite" thing. Seemed cool—seemed like a good excuse to kill some shit. And the Shaman they had to talk to just to get things rolling? He seemed into it—he's got the kind of energy you needed for a whatever-the-fuck this was (religious ceremony? Nah, been there, burned the village down; this felt different) to actually be interesting.

And for fuck's sake this other asshole was just using Grunt! How the hell didn't he fucking see that? Jesus fuck, maybe Jack should let Wreav cave Grunt's fucking head in just so the two-year-old learned a fucking lesson.

Jack looked at Grunt again. Shit, just as lost as before. Fucker was gonna get her killed too, wasn't he?

Well fuck that.

"Hey, Preacher-Man," Jack said, looking back towards the tunnel they'd just crawled out of. The Shaman came lumbering up towards her with that Wreav asshole right behind him. "You wanna hurry up so we can get this shit over with?"

The Shaman laughed. "The human's eager for a fight. Good—you've picked your krantt well, Grunt."

"Shit, Father—trouble just likes to follow me around." Her face darkened. "I'm serious: life gets boring after a while, and I'm getting real fucking bored."

Now the Shaman's face darkened as well. "You will have to sit through a story, first, human." He looked at Grunt. "Warlord Okeer didn't breed respect for our stories out of you, did he?"

"I'll listen," Grunt said.

"What about Wrex's baby bro over here?" Jack said, pointing at Wreav. "Can he an' I punch each other until things actually get interesting?"

"Wreav knows better than to ignore tales of how we got here," the Shaman said.

But Wreav? Wreav just bared his teeth with another shit-eating grin. "And nobody respects those tales better than I. Today, though—today, the focus is on Grunt. You deal with him: I'll make sure Grunt's…krantt, is ready."

The Shaman looked like he was gonna show Wreav the inside of his own colon…but, fuck, that was it. Just a nasty fucking look and then off to tell Grunt about some useless shit. Korgan Rebellions this, last holdout that—only thing that mattered was being told you had to adapt, but like you fucking needed a lecture for that. You either did or you didn't, and if you didn't? Well you weren't anybody's fucking problem anymore, were you?

So Jack got right up in Wreav's face and made sure he knew she'd make him eat his own quad if he tried anything. Subtly, y'know? In case there was a fucking law going back seventy centuries saying you didn't talk that way around the "Keystone" or whatever.

Jack looked Wreav up and down and said: "So how many're you taking? Two, three? Single digits, right?"

Wreav chuckled, like your abusive uncle after you threw a chair at him. "Wind me up wind me up—our women still prefer to punch."

"Pfft, what was that? I ain't part of the Universal Sisterhood, dickless—that ain't gonna work on me."

"Simply stating a fact." Wreav put his smile away. "But your question, human: my answer is that it's irrelevant. I think I'll let our unnatural companion do most of the work."

"Ouch, can't hit back and can't pull your weight. Jesus, no wonder Wrex thinks you suck."

Finally—finally—asshat had an expression that wasn't just a different type of smirk.

"Wrex doesn't know his tail from a thresher maw's tentacle—but that, is also irrelevant." Wreav calmed himself. "I've passed my Rite. I wouldn't be Urdnot, otherwise. Grunt though—Grunt is…special. He'll require more of a test." Wreav's shit-eating grin was back. "You're welcome to wait with me. No reason for you to exhaust yourself on his behalf."

"Awww, you're cute when you try and sound clever! It's like watching a varren lick it's own ass for the first time!"

Heh, wiped your grin off again, didn't I you stupid fucker.

"I'm being perfectly serious," Wreav said. "Let him live up to his so-called 'reputation.' Let him prove himself—alone, just like you thought he should be." The grin came back. "Surely you can't argue with that."

Yeah? Didn't need to argue if you just fucking punting the other fucker's head into orbit. Shit Jack was about two seconds away from doing exactly that. But the Shaman walked into her field of view because that waste of fucking time was done, and so Wreav pushed past her and Grunt was walking up the steps to the Keystone and hey asshole turn around so I can rip your fucking face off and feed it to you, how's that for an argument?

Wreav did stop, but only to say this:

"Wrex hasn't deluded everybody, and I didn't come unprepared. Remember that, human—I have more than your own words backing me up."

Jack scanned the landscape. Maybe that's not what he meant, but fuck, he'd be the kind of guy to bring backup to this sort of thing, wouldn't he? Fucker—coward. Jack shifted her body so she could unleash hell at any second and the alarm bells still weren't turning off in her brain—fuck Grunt you really gonna get both of us killed?

"So just fucking kill him already," Jack said, keeping her eyes on Wreav just long enough to gauge his reaction. "You love tradition so fucking much—just take his head off and go the fuck home."

Wreav stared back at her and she expected that stupid fucking grin of his to be back…but, nope. First time all fucking day, the guy looked serious.

"We'll see, human—we'll see." He turned to look at Grunt, who was staring at the Keystone's activation button. "The day is young."

And stare Grunt did, just for a little while longer. Then he pushed it (a slight hesitation, but once he was pushing the button he put his whole body into it).

Up went a large stone block, and a voice that sounded older than the sky started speaking.

"FIRST THE KROGAN CONQUERED TUCHANKA, AND MASTERED A NATURAL WORLD ONLY WE ARE FIT TO HOLD..."

The stone dropped. The ground quaked and a sound echoed over the ruins like someone had hit a sheet of metal with a warp.

Growling…that was what followed. Growling and the sounds of claws scraping the ground.

A varren appeared, just off in the distance. A massive varren. Then another. And another. And several more.

And they weren't alone: a kilxen joined them, then more. Grunt knew these animals never worked together; he knew from the images in his head that they fought over territory and food. But the Keystone…it drew them. To him. To destroy him.

Grunt watched them approach. He looked over at Jack and Wreav and saw them staring at each other. Did they think he could take them all on his own? Did they just not care?

It didn't matter. Grunt was on trial, and the trial had begun.

He grabbed his shotgun and let the varren and kilxen come closer. He raised his gun…and then he tossed it aside.

These beasts…Jack and Wreav…Okeer—they would all know he was worthy.

"I. Am. KROGAN."

Grunt charged. The first thing within grabbing distance was a kilxen, so he grabbed it. And raised it above his head. And tore it in half. The next closest beast was a varren so he put his fist through its head. He had a weapon now: the varren's body battered around its brethren and was dropped only when Grunt held something closer to a red mash than a corpse. He trampled two more varren to death reaching for the next kilxen, ripped two of its claws off and jabbed them through the creature's abdomen just as a varren tried to jump on his back. Shook it off, stomped its head into the ground, felt a burning on his left arm—kilxen fire, weak. Weak. Should've known that was coming—shouldn't have let it hurt. Grunt grabbed that kilxen's head and ripped it clean off. Two more varren had their spines broken and then the last kilxen was thrown head-first into the stone steps.

Arm still hurt. Weak. Just fire—shouldn't have let that beast get anywhere close to him.

Next round. Next round nobody would get close enough to do that.

Grunt climbed the steps to the Keystone's activation button and passed by Jack and Wreav, though he didn't look at them. He didn't hear what Jack said, either.

What she'd said was: "Holy fucking shit!"

"He's…aggressive enough," Wreav said.

"Oh, so you didn't rip a fucking crab monster in half with your bare hands?" Yeah, wipe aaaaaall that smugness off your face, asshole. Did Jack feel better about this? No—fucker still had an army hidden away, didn't he? But was that a sight to see? Fuck yeah it was—hell now Jack was fucking pissed, cuz Wreav was gonna make her stay on her toes through all this instead of letting her just watch the show.

As Grunt climbed the steps Jack took a goooood long look at Wreav. And, oh, what was that? What'd she see on his face?

Just a bit of fear.

Good.

If Grunt ended up luring a fucking krogan army out here to kill him, at least it's head would be shitting his pants while Jack ripped out his spine.

Whatever happened after that? That'd be up to her instincts, just like always.

Grunt pressed the button.

4.

Eventually you had to do crowd control, no matter how exciting things got. There'd been a few times where Garrus was stuck doing that, back in C-SEC. He'd never had to guard politicians or VIP —Protection Detail was its own thing—but he'd pulled plenty of crowds away from bodies, because a homicide attracted just about everybody and rookie beat cops had to start somewhere.

In theory, Kar'Danna's marines were doing all the work, but Garrus could tell it wasn't gonna be that simple. A few of the marines needed an extra order or two to start working, and some of the civilians were pulling people they knew away before the marines could get to them. That was never good: you wanted a clear divide between the people who'd snap at a funny look and the people responsible for keeping order, even if that meant staring down a hostile crowd of Moms and Dads. If Kar'Danna lost control—if someone the marines respected decided their Captain was off his rocker—then who knew what could happen. Could be a coup; that'd blow everything to hell in pretty quick order.

Tali was still up by the podium with Legion, Kar'Danna, Raan and Koris; Kal'Reegar and Sela'Nesal were watching Gerrel and Prazza. Things felt like they were just on the verge of going out of control—wasn't Tali's fault and, hell, the fact she hadn't been shot the moment she reached the stage was testament enough to the miracle she was working—but something didn't feel right. And Garrus'd felt that feeling before: he wasn't about to ignore it.

He turned to Ash. "See anyone capable of making a mess?"

Ash scanned the Conclave chambers, then shook her head. "Just the marines."

"You think we can trust them to keep a cool head?"

"Can we trust ourselves? That's a freaking geth up there and we're…I dunno what the hell we're doing."

"So all that stuff on the Alarei, you didn't mean it?"

"I trust Tali," Ash said. She hadn't been looking at Garrus, but now, now she definitely was. "And if Tali needed me to say what I did, then…that's not good enough, is it?"

"You and I are in the same boat, Ash. Only thing I'm sure of is I trust Tali—where that's gonna lead me, I've got no idea." He could've added something to soften his statement a bit, but truth was, nothing came to him that sounded the least bit genuine. You could only twist words so much before they broke apart completely.

Ash looked at the ground, then crossed her arms. "Guess I trust Thane enough to think there's something more going on than just a trick, too."

"Mmm, you'n I are in different boats on that."

"Yeah, so, what exactly is the problem with you two?" Ashley shook her head. "Didn't mean to put that much bite in it, sorry—but, c'mon, if I can pick up on in when we're running through a slaughterhouse, it's gotta be pretty freakin' obvious."

Garrus stared at Ash—or, more accurately, stared past her, which didn't matter much since you couldn't see his eyes behind his helmet's visor—and reminded himself that you could only twist words so much. Remember that, Vakarian, because you also have to remember just what a fracturing team can create further down the road.

"I don't trust people who kill for money—just on principle."

"So you don't trust anyone who isn't a turian?"

There was enough lightness in that comment that Garrus could chuckle. "We're not all perfect citizens. And I know a few humans that happily take duty over credits when things are really on the line."

"They sending out résumés?"

A better laugh from that. "Ahh they'd never join up with us—we keep stealing ships."

Ashley chuckled too. Her laugh hung in the air as they both became serious again.

"If you trust him," Garrus said, "I'll tolerate him. But people like him have a skewed view of the 'common good'. For me to know where he stands, I have to keep one eye on him."

"You'd be surprised, Garrus."

"Poetry's no substitute for what you and I do to earn people's trust."

"What, you mean obey the regs? Fill out the forms? Pledge allegiance to the flag and salute the guy with the stars on his uniform?" Ashley shook her head again. "You said it yourself: we're on a stolen ship. Kaidan and I haven't contacted Hackett since we entered gun-range for the Flotilla's wolfpack frigates. And we spent a year getting to know each other under someone who's whole job description was saying Alpha Mike Foxtrot to any authority that got in their way."

"Alpha Mike what…?"

"'With respect, fuck off,' basically. And I mean, that's what Shepard did, didn't she?" Ashley shrugged. "So I dunno Garrus. Not sure we're as different from Thane as you think."

You're saying that because you brought him aboard though, aren't you? That thought flickered past Garrus' consciousness and it took a lot for him not to punch himself. Too easy of a response, too easy of a dismissal…but probably not wholly inaccurate either, right?

Yeah, except fractured teams made for dead friends, so he'd keep that to himself.

"Maybe," Garrus said instead. "But for the sake of everyone, I'm not letting my guard down. Call it insurance."

Ashley paused, or maybe she was gonna say something but stopped herself—kinda looked that way, just the way her head bobbed for a second. Damn helmets. But Ashley did eventually say something.

"What happened on Omega?" she said. "Because this is it, right? This is…you're on edge because of what happened?"

"Not right now," Garrus said. He looked away…because he was damn sure gonna say what he promised not to say if she pressed too hard.

Luckily, Lieutenant Williams knew better than that.

"Roger that," Ashley said to herself.

Garrus had caught that, though; and it dawned on him that nobody really knew what he'd done on Omega, did they? He couldn't remember for sure but…far as he could tell, he'd never mentioned his squad. Or if he didn't, he'd never named Sidonis—not to anyone except Thane. For all they knew, he'd pissed off the Blue Suns and everyone else solo, and…maybe that was for the best. Maybe nobody besides him would end up remembering their names, but that wasn't how you avenged somebody; remembering a name didn't absolve the person who'd killed them of anything.

Didn't matter, not right now. Kaidan was coming up to them. Garrus and Ash turned to face him.

"Just talked with Reegar," Kaidan said. "He figures they need to set up an official perimeter, incase the Conclave decides to meet."

"That standard operating procedure?" Ashley said.

"Closest, uh, closest possible analogy would say 'yes'. A Fleet-wide accident or something, that's what they'd do." Kaidan looked at Legion. "I guess all this has probably rattled people as much as that kind of emergency, when you think about it."

"Do they have the manpower for that?" Garrus said.

Kaidan shrugged. "Reegar didn't mention it one way or another. I'm just curious if he's right and that's what Tali and the rest are talking about up there."

"What other option do they have?" Ashely said.

"Pretend it never happened?" Garrus said. "We've seen that tactic before."

"If you're talking about the Reapers," Kaidan said, "then the big difference is everybody knows the geth exist. The quarians more than most. I don't think anyone's capable of pretending that nothing happened here."

"Might be better if they did," Garrus said. "Who's to say some maniac isn't on his way to kill the traitor right now?"

"You mean Tali?" Ashley said.

"And anyone else that hasn't scrapped Legion yet." Garrus shrugged. "Might be best to leave while we have an opening. Besides, if Legion's supposed to fill us in on the Reapers and Collectors and everything else? We'd be better off doing it from a moving spaceship."

Ashley and Kaidan looked at each other, and Garrus noticed.

"What?"

"We just turned millions of lives upside down," Kaidan said. "I don't think we can leave until Tali says we can."

"And that required a look between you two?"

"Jesus, Garrus," Ashely said, stepping forward. She looked like she wanted to put an arm on Garrus' shoulder and he wasn't going to let that happen. "We just…noticed that you've been itching to leave. Except our objective is right over there, talking with Tali. And yeah I'm not really coming to grips with that yet, but it is our objective." Ashley took a step back, tilted her head like she was trying to get a better look at Garrus. "You sure you don't wanna talk about what ha—"

"Not, right now." Garrus could feel his mandibles trying to burrow through his helmet again. Spirits, he was under enough interrogation you'd think he had a maniac after him.

Kaidan's turn to step forward.

"All right, sidebarring that for later." Kaidan held up his omni-tool. "This just came through: Hackett wants us to contact him."

"You two figure that out, then," Garrus said. He turned and started walking away. "I'll double check this room's actually getting secured."

And once he'd turned he kept his eyes straight head, on the nearest exit. Thane was around: he could ask Thane for help. Or, he could do it on his own.

Out the doors he went.

Kaidan had made a move to go after him, or pull him back, but Ash put her hand out in front of him. She was shaking her head as Kaidan looked at her.

"Just…let him go." She pointed at Kaidan's omni-tool. "Is that all Hackett said? Contact him, nothing else?"

Kaidan paused, watched Garrus leave, then turned his attention fully back to Ash. "That's it. Could just be he wants a status update."

"Or whatever he's gotta say is too big and too nasty to send in an email." Ash backed away and rested her hands on her hips. "All right…well…we were gonna reach out to him anyways."

"Should we?" Kaidan said. "Right away, I mean? With everything happening here?"

"Things are quie—" Ashley bit her tongue, grimaced. "No, never mind, not jinxing it."

"So we should hold off? Wait until we're sure we're in the clear?"

"Christ, I dunno, Kaidan! I really don't—I mean, you're the ranking officer here for fuck's sake!"

That hung in the air for a bit, too, as Ashley tried to eat her own head and Kaidan looked at Ash like he'd just been told off by one of his Jump Zero instructors. As in, she had a point, and he could feel the embarrassment walling up in his system at having to be told just an obvious-as-hell fact like that.

"Sorry, skipper," Ashley said. "That's…none of that was because of you."

Kaidan's eyes drifted away from Ash for a second, because she had a point. What was this rank even for? There wasn't anything wrong with Staff Lieutenant; Kaidan didn't need a favour for working with a politician.

This'd been Shepard's rank and, yet again, he'd completely dropped her from his memory. Apparently that bit back on the Alarei was a one-off, and he was back feeling like he had to apologize.

And then everyone's eyes turned back to the podium as Tali, Legion, Kar'Danna, and the Admirals that weren't being guarded by Kal'Reegar left the stage, ascended the stairs, made their way to where everyone was congregating just beyond the Conclave's seats. Kaidan saw Garrus start to work his way back—and Thane had appeared next to Ashley out of thin air, too. All eyes and ears on this: the real person making real, impactful decisions, was going to speak again.

Tali stopped, stared back at her Auntie Raan, and then took a breath as she looked back at her friends, shipmates, teammates, lifelines—the only bit in her world that seemed rock-solid anymore. Maybe except for the fact that what she thought she knew about the world was so many lies, half-truths, and closely-guarded misdirections.

"The Admirals…have insisted on a trial," Tali said. "Of themselves. The Conclave will…decide whether they're to remain in their positions."

Everyone felt the need to look at their closest neighbor—just something to remind them that other people around them were hearing and seeing the same things.

"The whole Admiralty Board?" Garrus said.

"Xen and…and Father will be tried in absentia. Xen's dropped out of contact and…so the Conclave will rule on them all, with only Raan, Koris, and Gerrel being present."

"Spirits," Garrus said. "Your whole senior leadership."

"No," Tali said. "Just the…the Conclave…" Tali stopped. Garrus was right and wrong: the Admirals had little formal authority, but everyone could see how much influence they wielded regardless. It wouldn't have gotten this far if that wasn't true. Something had gone wrong with the Flotilla, but that…that wasn't something anyone could dwell on right now. They should, but nobody would.

The trial would be about Legion and the True Geth, and for Tali? For Tali it would be…

"It has to be done," she said.

Garrus watched Tali but could only look for a moment. The way her posture was it…he could only look for a moment. He turned around and looked towards Gerrel and Prazza, and focused on Head Bastard Gerrel. A lot of energy and hurt would be saved if someone just put a bullet in his head.

Spirits…Garrus had a list of people like that, didn't he? And some of those names were written in all caps and a large font, large enough to cover every person they'd taken out of the universe.

Thane was the only one who noticed the way that Garrus's gaze lingered on Gerrel.

5.

Whole thing was bullshit, and Jacob was neck-deep in it. The ride back to the Urdnot camp was just long enough and filled with enough of this Drixxia's guards for him to say fuck the whole thing and head back to the Widowmaker.

"You don't need me," he'd told Drixxia.

"Was I supposed to assume you're important?" Drixxia had said back.

Yeah, fuck the whole thing.

He'd walked quickly from the airlock into the CIC—because god-fobrid if Joker had some crack he wanted to throw around—and made it into the armoury before het let himself decompress and call himself a fucking child. Anyone who saw him walk from the tomkah to the armoury? That's exactly what they woulda thought, and he couldn't blame them. Wasn't he supposed to be second-in-command around here? Actually, scratch that question: Jacob really didn't know what the hierarchy was supposed to be, 'cept that Miranda was above him and The Illusive Man only noticed you if she made that happen.

Yeah, and there was another question: Miranda was supposed to have control over this thing, so did she? Liara sure as hell was in a power-grabbing mood, and for all he knew, that was just the tip of the iceberg. Seemed like Joker was up to something, and Jack was Jack—nobody could control her. Liara though…nah, she wasn't the tip of the iceberg. Moves she was making? She was straight up vying for control.

So question number two was: did Jacob care?

See, before they'd gotten to Tuchanka, Jacob probably would've gone with the flow. Because what was his use to Cerberus? He liked to think he reminded people they were supposed to be working for everyone's benefit, instead of being the bad guys from some toyline for kids. Miranda was…she was drifting, that's what she was doing. Seemed to him like Miranda was buying too much into someone else's vision, and he'd never been shy about questioning how many people got hurt in that vision. Liara might've been a better bet for everyone.

But now Liara was making moves that even Miranda would've balked at—he'd said that much out loud—and he didn't think he'd said it just for show. Something was up with Liara and, hell, only person that even knew why she'd really joined with them was Miranda. That on its own should've told Jacob enough.

Shit…he'd been through a lot with Miranda. Seen things, done things—no idea if Miranda knew what "friends" were, but she'd been the only person he'd felt the least bit comfortable around since he left the Alliance. That counted for something. Probably should've made a bigger effort to let her know she was slipping; even thinking about letting Liara take over, that whole problem coulda been avoided if he'd just stuck to his guns and talked to Miranda.

Maybe that's what he should be doing, insteada fucking pouting.

Elsewhere on the Widowmaker, high-heeled boots were clacking on the grated floor of the CIC. Miranda had just exited the elevator and turned towards the armoury. She ignored Yeoman Chambers, too, as at this point she'd no time for any of the minor things this Kelly was responsible for. Yes, she'd far bigger things on her mind at this juncture—like what allies she might still have.

Miranda entered the armoury at the same time Jacob was trying to exit it.

"Jacob I—"

"Shit, Miranda—my bad I—"

They paused.

"Sorry, you were saying—"

"—on me, I wasn't watching where—"

"Oh, sorry."

"Sorry, I'm…"

They paused again.

"Okay, who's going first?" Jacob said.

"You start—I'm in your office, for lack of a better term."

"Yeah uh…sure." Jacob scratched at his chin. "Uh, actually, I was about to hunt you down. For uh, for lack of a better term, I guess."

"Oh." Miranda looked into the armoury, saw nobody (not even EDI, thank god), and then looked behind her at all the ears and eyes and lips that were supposed to be following her, but likely only did so because someone else ordered them to.

Miranda pointed into the armoury.

"Why don't we move in, then? We can talk in here."

Jacob shrugged. "Fine by me. Least we've got chairs."

Miranda went for a chair; Jacob leaned against a wall. Outside the viewing port window—one way glass, luckily—dust and wind and orange from Tuchanka's sun poured over everything. Miranda instinctively swept some non-existent dust from the table next to her chair; really, it wasn't too far fetched that dust had somehow made its way past all the seals and barriers in the ship.

Jacob cleared his throat.

"So, all right…what'd you wanna talk to me about?"

"Mmm." Miranda leaned back in her chair, adjusted her back just to move a bit, give her subconscious something to focus on while she clarified her thoughts. It was…easier said than done, evidently.

"We talked about pit-stops, earlier. Before we came here."

"Right, pit-stops." Jacob switched shoulders, looked out the window briefly, then turned his eyes back to Miranda. "We talked about me being in the loop, too. Appreciate you coming to talk to me again."

"Of course, Jacob. I made a promise, after all."

"Yeah, and I've got things to fill you in on, I think."

Miranda held up a hand. "I expect so, yes—but first, I just want to double check that you think a detour is acceptable."

Jacob's brow furrowed. "What'd I say before?"

"Something to the effect that, if it helps a crewmember, it's worth pursuing."

Jacob nodded. "Sounds about right. So you're asking if I still think that?"

"Precisely. Even if it's rather disconnected from our main task."

"Nothing more disconnected than this pile of shit." Jacob was pointing out the window. "Course I'm about ready to get the fuck outta dodge, between you and me."

Miranda's brow furrowed this time. "Something to do with your update, I presume?"

Jacob shrugged again. "Whole lotta that and some other things, too."

"We'll get to that," Miranda said. "I'm wondering, though, if it's worth going to Illium. Or maybe, putting it differently, if we should go to Illium first or recruit Ms. Goto, then make another diversion."

"What's our timeline for the big showdown with the Collectors?"

"On pause. Until EDI completes a task that The Illusive Man thinks is necessary for us to move forward, we're still in the 'building' phase of things."

"Surprised he hasn't made us FTL to their homeworld by now." Jacob pulled himself from the wall but kept his arms crossed. "Guy doesn't strike me as patient."

"We wouldn't get very fair," Miranda said. "The only way through is the Omega 4 relay, and it's inactive to all ships as of right now."

"Omega 4 relay?" Jacob was back on the wall again. "Shit, so the bugs're probably literally crawling out of a black hole. No wonder he's letting us hang around here."

Miranda leaned forward—awfully suddenly, for her own liking. She risked revealing too much with reactionary moves like that.

"I thought you said detours were acceptable," she said.

"I think they are. Damned if The Illusive Man does, though." Jacob shook his head. "Can never get a read on that guy, but I've got my assumptions. Fact is, so long as he's not actively trying to kill us, I don't give a shit what he thinks works."

"You make him sound like a control freak."

"He's not?"

"Not in my experience."

(not that I can prove)

Jacob shook his head again. "No offense, but you don't count. You've got enough rank that he figures he can leave you alone. The rest of us? Probably a whole different story."

Miranda leaned back in her chair. "You think he'd toss everyone's lives away that easily?"

"The Illusive Man? Type of person he is, it's dime-a-dozen out there. If he likes you he'll make sure you go far, but if he hates you? Guy's got fifty million ways to ruin your life."

"The Illusive Man doesn't hate."

"You really believe that?"

Miranda stood up, went to the corner of the table and crossed her arms, too. "Yes, Jacob—I do. He hasn't the time to. People like him don't waste energy hating: if you're no use to him, you'll never see his face."

"Suppose you've got that in common."

Shit, that just came out. Too late to take it back though. And…fuck it, something he shoulda said a long time ago. So he watched Miranda, watched her reaction.

For a second—not even that—she deflated, just a bit. But that look got replaced real quick. There was something else there, now. Jacob thought he heard something rubbing against the windows, and it was only when he looked at Miranda's hands that he realized it was the sound of her gloves, stretching against her knuckles as she made fists in the nooks of her elbows.

"No, Jacob—no. For at least one person, I've plenty of energy to hate."

Jesus, like the look she was giving him didn't say enough already.

"…not gonna ask," Jacob said. Probably wasn't him but…you never know, maybe he'd cut her too deep with that comment. No, no that was bullshit—Miranda'd never react like that. Only thing that ever caught her off guard was…

Oh…

"No, y'know what? I am. It's your father, right? That's who you're talking about?"

A pause. Was she being that transparent? Jacob rarely read people that closely—that accurately. Was she telegraphing too much or…?

No, no Jacob just had a better memory than she realized.

"I didn't think you'd remembered," she said.

"Yeah, well…your story sticks out a bit. Hard to forget."

"Believe me, I know."

"Hey sorry that's…shit, that's not what I meant. I just mean he's a fucked up asshat, the kind you can't forget about."

"It's fine, Jacob—I know what you meant. And yes, I know."

Yeah…yeah Jacob bet she did.

Now it was awkward as hell. Hard to say you were much of a "moral core" if you made everyone wanna stay the fuck away from you, every time you opened your mouth…

"You remember my old man? Went down with the Gernsback a thousand years ago or something like that?" Shit, he hadn't thought about his dad in forever, but it slipped out—just like a hell of a lot of his comments, apparently. "Much as it sucks losing him, at least I've got a couple good memories I can turn to whenever I need. Getting trapped with someone that made you feel like hell is…shit, this played better in my head. Meant to say you deserved better from him than what you got. Way better."

A pause.

"Thank you, Jacob. It's appreciated."

"It's also why I'm still here," Jacob said. "I'm trusting Cerberus less and less, I'm gonna be honest with you. But it's pretty easy to remind myself that you're good people. I mean…"

Shit that was just slipping out too. Fuck's sake man—gonna do anything right today or're you just gonna get yourself locked in the brig? Just in time for Liara to pull a coup and…yeah.

"All right," Jacob said, "I can see my reflection in the walls—I know where my feet are right now. You're good people, Miranda, and you deserve a good friend. Maybe I'm not it, but I just want you to know, no matter how much I bitch and complain, I've got your back."

Another pause.

"It means a lot to hear you say that," Miranda said. She groped for something to add. "What you'd call 'good people': that's what keeps you with Cerberus, correct? But what about someone who gets results?"

Jacob's grow furrowed. "Implying you don't?"

"I lost Vakarian," Miranda said, and she couldn't help it, she squeezed her fists together and hoped that Jacob couldn't see her do so. "Massani was eliminated on my watch. So was another Cerberus agent. I couldn't get Krios and I can't get Tali'Zorah—and I continue to move away from Kasumi Goto." Miranda's voice dropped as she looked down at the floor. "If this were from an agent under my direction, I'd have stepped in to correct the problem."

"Miranda," Jacob said. "You get results. Nobody on this ship's gonna argue otherwise, including me."

Miranda didn't let herself smile, but she at least looked up at Jacob. "That's nice of you to say, but ultimately the final authority on this is…" The Illusive Man, it's The Illusive Man and his eyes and mind and spies and control chips, if such a thing exists, except that might just be a story she was telling herself, a way to focus on something other than her own failures and the growing, subconscious realization that her failures had grown past whatever margin of tolerance The Illusive Man had. If they were separate issues. If a control chip to enhance a faltering agent wasn't something The Illusive Man considered in his vast mausoleum of plans.

Miranda shook her head. Jacob looked like he was going to say something, but Miranda already knew what he was liable to say. "I've no evidence The Illusive Man is a control-freak, but I'm plenty aware of how exacting his standards are. I'm expected to demonstrate my value to him."

"And you haven't? Like I said, dime-a-dozen type of person." Jacob scowled. "Fact is though, you snagging Liara from the Alliance has gotta be worth more than the rest of the dossier's combined." That scowl went away quickly, replaced by a different look. Miranda couldn't read it very well.

Jacob knew how he looked, because the whole goddamn reason why he'd come here in the first place was staring him right in the face again, telling him he'd distracted himself long enough and actually needed to do something for a change.

But there was a long enough pause that Miranda felt she should retire elsewhere.

"Thank you for the talk, Jacob."

Miranda got up and started towards the door. She had an answer, hadn't she? About allies; about where Jacob stood. It felt…hollow, though. It felt like…it felt like it wasn't enough. She'd bloody well thought he was about to leave not long ago: of course it wasn't enough...

Of course it wasn't. Her idiot brain chemicals wouldn't ever be satisfied, would they? That wasn't in her damn programming, was it?

"Hey, hold up a sec," Jacob said. So Miranda stopped, and she turned, and she looked at Jacob.

"Yes?"

"I just…wanna let you know, something's up with Liara."

Miranda paused. Right, he'd been out with the away team—he'd wanted to talk to her, first. This…this, he'd have her undivided attention on.

"How do you mean?"

Jacob shook his head. "We're talking about doing things that'll help us in the long run, right? With the pit-stops and everything? Liara's going off script, that's all I can gather."

"Dr. T'Soni is?" God, this…she really didn't need this. Not from her—least of all from her. "To what end?"

"No idea what the gameplan is," Jacob said. "But she's acting like she's got dirt on everybody." (she's got dirt on—fuck it, just say it). "She's got dirt on everybody, seems like."

"As in blackmail?"

"Mordin thinks we've gone passed that."

"She's threatened him, is what you're saying."

"Fuck, unless you were there? It's hard to pin down. But…she knew about Daniel, lemme just say that."

"Who?"

Jacob sighed. Couldn't help it—that snuck out too.

"Mordin's assistant. Guy we left to die on Omega? Somehow, she knew." Jacob leaned forward. "Knew some top-secret asari information, too. She'd been holding something over Mordin for a while—probably about his work on the genophage, which, dunno about you, but that was news to me—and then she drops something about how the salarians were appeasing the turians or some shit, and that just about got us all killed. I dunno what her gameplan is, but whatever you said to her to get her onboard, you…might wanna reiterate that promise. Because she's acting like she wants to screw us over before we do it to her."

A few other things were said—to the extent that Miranda said she needed to excuse herself, and little more than that. She left the armoury and immediately went to her office, with her omni-tool on and her fingers typing a flurry of notes with varying levels of coherent syntax.

She'd felt hollow after Jacob essentially confirmed he was on her side. What he'd just done was confirm that, at least to a non-trivial extent, he was willing to back up his words with deeds.

And what had it done?

She'd gone past the hollow feeling right back to when Mordin first confronted her about Tuchanka, when she was groping for a chance to get an expert digging around in her skull.

The planet might as well have opened and swallowed up the Widowmaker. It would've left her with no more a sense of vertigo than she already had.

6.

In over three centuries of wandering through space—of being nomads, exiled from the rest of galactic civilization—the Admiralty Board had only overruled the Conclave four times. The first was when a voting bloc from the heavy fleet passed a resolution to bombard a Blood Pack base after they'd executed three captured quarians on their pilgrimage. The second was after a two-thirds majority voted to sell three of the older frigates in the fleet to pay for a year's supply of dextro-friendly food from the turians. The third was to launch a raid on a batarian flotilla to rescue an enslaved quarian, and anyone else on board the slave ships, in the hopes that the Council would notice and re-open diplomatic negotiations. The fourth—the most recent one—was to buy a colony that the ExoGeni Corporation had tried to settle, though this was a pre-emptive veto. It came out later that the resolution wouldn't have passed the Conclave, and the burgeoning "Forget Rannoch" movement had far fewer votes than they realized.

In three hundred years, the Admiralty Board had to resign their positions after executing their override four times…and in three hundred years, the Conclave had only forced the Admiralty Board to resign once. It'd been right after the Morning War; it involved the geth, as it always seemed to do. The Admirals wanted to turn around and launch an immediate counterattack; the Conclave stripped them of their ranks, exiled the loudest and most aggressive Admirals, consolidated two fleets, and created a new rule: should the Admiralty Board ever exercise their authority under martial law to override the democratic will of the Conclave, they would have to resign.

So…it all came back to the geth. And now, because of the geth—because of…of Legion and Father and Tali herself, there was no use denying it—because of them, history might very well repeat. The Conclave could force the entire Admiralty Board to resign…the three Admirals that were still alive and accounted for, anyways.

Or…or the Conclave could spare them. Maybe this time, the side that wanted to avoid conflict with the geth was in the minority.

Whatever the outcome, Tali would be a witness—nothing more. After everything that had happened on the Alarei—after all the decisions she was forced to make, the demons she was forced to confront—it was…it was a catastrophic anti-climax, is what it was. It was probably the right thing to do—just let the processes and institutional rules the quarian people relied on do what they were supposed to do—but…

…it's not about doing everything yourself; it's about building steps so people could join you. Yes, you're right, Shepard. Is it always so…so finicky, though? Do people always swing from one extreme to another? One minute you're letting history and prejudice guide you, the next you're charging ahead and damn any fools who get in your way?

No memories to answer for her; whatever Shepard's secret, she'd…she'd never gotten the chance to share it.

Garrus, Ashley, and Kaidan were next to her, supporting her, being present. And yet they were a universe away, because how could Tali communicate any of that to them? There was nothing more that she wished than being able to turn to her side and explain everything that had just flickered through her mind, just to hear another person's reaction, maybe receive a reminder that her thoughts weren't alien in this universe but made perfect sense to someone other than herself. But there was no way to word it—nothing to really capture what she was thinking.

It honestly might have been better if Legion was around, but bringing them to a trial was…no reasonable person would ever do that. Thane was with them now, because nobody was too keen on letting a geth wander around a Liveship unattended.

So Tali watched as the Conclave convened, and as Captain Zul'Valun vas Chayym assumed the Speaker's podium and set the agenda for the trial. His role was merely to facilitate, being the longest-serving Captain of a Liveship. The judges were the Conclave members; the prosecutors were the Captain's of each Admiral's home vessel. The Admirals themselves were their own defense counsel—after all, who knew quarian law better than an Admiral?

Tali stared at Captain Kar'Danna. He'd have to be Father's prosecutor. The pressure he had to be under…to appear lenient enough that the Conclave didn't think he was merely out for revenge, but strict enough to ensure everyone that the Fleet's security was still his top concern. No one should doubt the latter—not after what he had almost done—but that wouldn't stop the occasional conspiracy theorist from making up their own reality.

Zul'Valun cleared his throat, then blessed the Ancestors for allowing them to reach this day. Never before had that statement run so hollow.

"Before beginning with the proceedings," Zul'Valun said, "I must request that the Conclave give consent to Captain Kar'Danna vas Rayya participating in the trial." The Conclave murmured amongst itself; Zul'Valun held up his hand. "Captain Kar'Danna is not the subject of any legal or ethical complaints. Indeed, I only bring up this question, in my role as Speaker, because of the sacrifice he nearly made. I fear that asking him to prosecute the late Admiral Zorah ignores the emotional toll he has experienced—but I do not find it in my power to ask him if he wishes to stand down."

More murmurs. One of the Conclave representatives then stood.

"Mr. Speaker," she said, "on behalf of the people of the Shellen, we request that an offer be made to Captain Kar'Danna, asking if he wishes to stand down from his duties as prosecutor."

"Captain Kar'Danna," Zul'Valun said. "Please—the floor is yours."

Tali could do it. Tali would do it, if asked. But…but no no no no no what were you thinking you bosh'tet? Prosecuting Father! After all you were forced to do to him—after watching him bleed to death and then killing his memory! You'd never be able to. No one in their right mind would ever ask! You're asking too much; you're expecting too much. You're still just an Admiral's daughter and…and this was to be out of your hands. Accept it; appreciated it. You finally…you finally will get the chance to process and to properly mourn.

"I cannot abandon my duty," Kar'Danna said. "I will remain as prosecutor, so long as the Conclave allows me."

"Do we require a formalized vote?" Zul'Valun said.

A chorus of "nays" drowned out any opposition. Zul'Valun nodded.

"Then the proceedings will begin."

Begin they did. The prosecutors asked questions ("Where is Admiral Xen?" "Gone—and good riddance, the witch"; "How much of the project were you aware of?" "Too little to stop it, until evidence founds its way into my possession. That is not an excuse, I'll be the first to admit."; "Can you help us understand Admiral Zorah's mindset, by chance?" "He wanted what he always wanted; a real life for his da…for all of us in the Flotilla.") and every time she was mentioned—even if indirectly—she flinched.

And she waited, watching Gerrel closest of all. Because if the geth ever took over the trial—and if he was ever going to try and save his and Father's reputation—she needed to see it. She needed to know it had happened, so she could prepare herself for…what? For the complete breakdown of the Migrant Fleet? Maybe it wasn't going to be that dramatic…but then maybe it was.

A few minutes into the trial and Kaidan's wrist beeped. He held it up to his face, tried to shield the orange glow from interfering with any of the onlooker's view.

"Ah, shit," he said.

"What?" Ashley said.

"Another message from Hackett." He cast a sympathetic look Tali's way, then turned back to Ash. "I think we've gotta deal with this."

"Shit." Ashley's turn to give Tali a sympathetic look. "Look, Tali—just say so and we'll stay. If it's really urgent Hackett'll—"

"It's all right," Tali said. A universe away…she appreciated the sentiment, at least. "This trial won't end for a while, anyways."

Neither Ash nor Kaidan said anything for a while, like their next move would grab everyone's attention unless they made the absolute perfect decision.

"I'll be here," Garrus said. "Not that Tali needs me."

"The company is appreciated," Tali said, "but I'll honestly be fine." A universe away…was she doing something wrong?

Ashley and Kaidan patted her on the shoulders as they left, and then it was her and Garrus. The trial dragged on. She wanted him to say something, but she had no idea what there even was to say. And Garrus wanted to say something, but, spirits, what do you even say in a situation like this?

Tali started watching Gerrel again, and Garrus noticed.

"Tali?" he said. "If you wanna watch in peace, I get it, but…"

"I really don't want to watch period, Garrus," she said. She looked at him then, just to make sure he knew he could continue.

"Mmm, I get that. But I just wanted to say…what you've done here? It's incredible. I can't even put it into words."

"I don't think it's over yet."

"No, but at least you've shut up all the kids on the playground." Garrus tilted his head, didn't wait for Tali to react. "Not sure if that's appropriate but…well, nobody's gonna think you're just the Admiral's daughter anymore." He was gonna pause but his brain told him to add, "Would've made a young turian eat his words, too, seeing everything you've done."

This time Garrus did wait, and about fifty worst-case scenarios went through his mind. But…luckily, Tali looked up and him and her eyes didn't look mad.

"Thank you, Garrus. That means a lot."

"Figured you'd been thinking a lot about how the Flotilla was going to react to this. Just wanted to make sure you knew that a lot of people are in awe of you."

"I still don't know if I've done anything. Nothing lasting, anyways."

"Pretty sure nobody ever gets that privilege. Otherwise people'd have a harder time making money off nothing but hindsight."

Tali looked at the floor, then back at Garrus. "Would Shepard have done what I did, do you think? Would she have done similar things in this situation?"

Garrus blinked hard behind his visor. "Spirits…that's a question."

"Sorry, Garrus, I didn't mean to…you don't have to answer, if you don't want to."

Garrus shifted his weight. "Well, now you've got me thinking? No, it's...it's a good question." He looked at the floor too, tried to run some scenarios over in his head without thinking too much about Shepard and…well, everything else going on in the universe right now. Eventually, he said: "Tactically? Hard to tell, just because you never know what variables will have to shift if you insert a brand-new person into the equation. But as for everything else? The important stuff? I think so."

"You think she'd have done what I did?"

"Yeah. Don't you?"

Tali looked at the floor again. "I don't know…I never really talked to her about these things. Not after she…not after she said she understood why the geth rose up against us."

Garrus took a step back, looked around in case anyone heard them. "She said that? Seriously?"

"It wasn't so blunt…actually, no, it was." Tali crossed her arms. "I stopped mentioning my people after that, except to let her know that I would've appreciated a copy of the geth data she'd acquired from their outposts." Tali looked behind her, towards where Legion and Thane were probably sitting. "Heretic data, I guess."

"Did you…did you stop talking all together after that?" Garrus said.

Tali shook her head. "No. We just…left the Flotilla out of it."

Garrus looked out over the crowd, then, again, looked back at Tali. She'd been doing the same, looked like.

"Shepard had pretty strong beliefs," he said. "I respect the hell out of that. And you? You've got pretty strong beliefs too."

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

"You've adapted. Something got thrown at you that nobody—absolutely nobody—could've prepared for, and you kept your cool; you dealt with the situation; and you gave the curveballs a fair chance to justify why you shouldn't just ignore them." He put a hand on Tali's shoulder. "Sounds pretty Shepard-like to me."

"Even though I feel like I'm walking in zero gravity?"

"Yeah, even factoring in that." Garrus paused, took his hand off Tali's shoulder, turned to face the crowd again. "Usually had a hard time noticing that Shepard was flummoxed. And truth be told, until just now? I didn't think you were either." He looked back at Tali. "So, yeah: still seem pretty Shepard-like to me. And…thanks for telling me how you're doing."

Tali looked back at Garrus and, finally, sighed. They were back in the same universe, it felt like; or at least there was a bridge they could both cross, if they had the time to sit and chat again. Just a little tunnel of light with a solid enough foundation that you could walk on it, and that seemed like enough, at this point in time.

"Thanks for listening," Tali said. She tapped Garrus' elbow. "I thought I was going crazy for a bit."

"Nah, you're not going crazy," Garrus said. "You hit crazy two years ago, when we decided a Spectre ranting about the apocalypse was gonna sign our paychecks."

"It was a better offer than what the other Spectre put on the table."

"Heh," Garrus said, "that's true enough."

Gerrel was speaking now, though, and that killed the conversation. It was just generic questions still, but Tali's attention was fully on the Head Bastard himself.

And so, too, was Garrus's.

Elsewhere, though—just outside the chambers—Ashley and Kaidan had found a little alcove to sequester themselves in. They hesitated, just a bit, before Kaidan brought up his omni-tool and opened the connection to Hackett.

It immediately rerouted to Channel November Actual.

"Great," Ashley said.

"Yeah," Kaidan said. "This isn't gonna be fun."

A few seconds and, then, the glowing orange image of Admiral Hackett appeared on Kaidan's wrist.

"Hackett here," he said. "Commander, Lieutenant—still in the Migrant Fleet, I take it?"

"Yessir," Kaidan said. "It's uh…it's been interesting."

"Sorry for dropping out of contact, sir," Ashley said. "Kaidan's right: things're pretty FUMTU here."

"I can sympathize," Hackett said.

"Sir?"

"Let's just say the fallout from Anderson's speech has been immense. We're still picking up the pieces."

"Jesus, sir," Ashley said. She cast a worried look at Kaidan. "I thought that was supposed to help."

"It disrupted, gave us some room to maneuver. It's better than the situation we were about to find ourselves in, even if it doesn't feel like it right now."

Kaidan let out a sigh of relief. That'd been his push, after all. If things were FUMTU back home, that'd be on him.

"Are we being recalled, sir?" he said.

"Negative—you're still needed out there." There was a pause. Hackett needed more than a second to move to the next thought; Kaidan almost felt like he should gulp. "What's your status with the platform?"

"Green," Ashley said. She looked over at Kaidan for confirmation; he nodded. "Not sure what the next course of action is but…we've got good intel already."

"Might need to re-write some manuals," Kaidan said.

Another pause. Kaidan nearly asked if everything was all right.

"In that case, I'll tell you what I originally planned on telling you. Mostly because you deserve to know, but also to give you a hint at what Alliance Command is dealing with."

"Go ahead, sir," Ashley said. She knew she didn't sound fully confident, though. She felt the lack of confidence when the words left her mouth.

Hackett's image nodded. But…there was that pause again. Eventually, though, Hackett spoke.

Neither Kaidan nor Ashley were really ready for what he said.

"Just after you left for the Migrant Fleet, the Admiralty Board—our Admiralty Board—convened and approved a Directive 31 JSOC mission. You can probably guess who the target was."

That they could.

"A Normandy-class stealth frigate was deployed. Minimum crew detail for a JSOC operation, with a full marine contingent and three squads of N7s. It was the Midway…Chakwas and Adams were on board, per my orders."

"Oh god," Kaidan said. "The drive core accident…"

"That was the cover story." Hackett straightened his posture, like he was confronting his own trial. "I caused the death of two decorated and respected officers. Now, Shepard's in control of a Normandy-class frigate. The situation's rapidly deteriorated, and the only reason this hasn't completely bitten us in the ass is the Prime Minister's attack dogs are good at enforcing a blackout."

"Sir I…" Ashley shook her head. "Who had the Conn, sir?"

Hackett's image looked right at her. "Leng," he said.

"Jesus Christ!" Ashley stood up and hit the opposite wall in no time at all. Back and forth she paced; Kaidan shifted so Hackett could still see her…and so he couldn't see his own face, or what wasn't hidden behind his helmet, so well.

"How'd Shepard manage to seize control of a frigate all by herself? Does she have hostages?"

"This isn't fucking Shepard," Ashley said in the background. "I don't give two shits about the philosophical side of this: Shepard wouldn't go after her crew. Whatever this thing is is...fuck!"

"Leng's report said she forced Adams to do something with a geth head and a quarian's omni-tool. That's all we know."

"And why the fuck was the mission given to fucking Leng?"

"Stand down Ash," Kaidan said.

"Easy, Commander—she's asking the same question I raised."

"Alenko just…just Alenko, sir."

Hackett paused again. Now both Ash and Kaidan felt like idiots.

"I'm sorry," Hackett said. "For all of this. There's no excuse. But just so you understand: when it comes to Shepard, we're running out of options."

Kaidan and Ashley looked at each other.

"We're…sorry, sir. We're sorry too." Kaidan adjusted his arm so Hackett could see both of them. "What happens next?"

"What happens next is, I have to give you a choice." Hackett let the words hang in the air, like had so frequently happened in the Flotilla the last few days.

Then, he said: "We think Shepard's heading for the Perseus Veil. And if she is, we've got no idea what kind of havoc she could create if she goes after the geth."

Kaidan and Ashley's guts felt like they'd dissolved, right there, right inside their bodies.

They looked off towards where Legion and Thane were sitting, watching, waiting.

"Sir," Kaidan said, "you don't even know the half of it…"

Inside the Conclave chambers, Kar'Danna took a deep breath, and asked the question he'd been dreading to ask.

"Admiral Han'Gerrel," he said. "Because Admiral Zorah is not present, I must ask you this: In light of what we have learned from this 'Legion,' do you still believe your actions…are justifiable?"

Tali flinched; she could barely keep herself from tearing her eyes away from the podium.

And Garrus? Garrus was staring directly at Gerrel, except in his mind, the Admiral was wearing a different face.

It was the face of a turian, with bright purple clan markings and Kuwashii visor that'd been bought as a gift.

And Garrus couldn't help but ask how many people Gerrel would trick into killing themselves now that he was a cornered, helpless, exposed animal…and whether there was any way to prevent something like that from happening all over again.

7.

How long had it been? Since the great, just super-terrific meeting with The Illusive Man? See, if it was just an hour or something, that'd be fine, because it meant they weren't running out of time and things'd just felt like they were taking forever. Maybe because they were thinking so hard? But if it'd been multiple hours, or what Joker's internal clock figured it'd been (a day…felt like a whole day), then they were well and truly fucked.

They'd made no progress at all.

"All right, so I'm back to the stupid plan again," Joker said. "I've done the cycle. You?"

"All possible alternatives carry greater risks than simply following The Illusive Man's directions," EDI said.

"Okay, so, you've done the cycle too. Great. Lemme know when the bolder starts rolling down the hill."

"It has already done so, Jeff."

Joker looked at EDI's avatar with his brow raised. Probably shouldn't've been surprised she got that reference but…dunno, Joker'd spent so long working with V.I.'s that he still got a bit surprised whenever EDI grasped onto abstract thought. Which, hey, that's an asshole thing to say, ain't it? Imagine if EDI was a person and he'd said that.

"So, to recap: the only alternative with quick results is to just beeline straight for the dead Reaper—which you think you've almost found—and hunt around for all the nice little secrets it's probably left behind. Except we've got no idea what's waiting for us except that it's a Reaper corpse, and we're guessing there's a good chance the risks are high enough that we only need to go there because we need to go there. Meanwhile, the quote-unquote 'disabled Collector ship' sure as hell sounds like a trap, and if we go the best we'd do is just confirm a theory The Illusive Man has already pretty much accepted, but if it is a trap we're confident it's not so completely out of left-field that The Illusive Man would risk derailing the Lazarus Cell by sending us there."

"Yes."

"And if we just do what he said to do in the first place we're gonna give him a serotonin rush and the stand you took in the meeting is gonna look a lot less impressive."

"Yes."

"So you probably won't buy yourself any extra time if we do that."

"…yes."

"And Santa isn't real."

"I believe I miscalculated, Jeff."

Joker slammed himself back into his chair and listened to his shoulder-blades tell him how dumb he was. Which was good because on instinct he almost said "yep." Big freakin' help that'd be right now, Jeffrey. Big freakin' help that'd be…

"Arrrrgh." Joker pinched the bridge of his nose, paused, then looked over at EDI's avatar. "That wasn't for you—I was cursing God."

"We are in this situation because of me."

"No, we're in this situation because Cerberus—speaking of the Big Man—tried to take his job. And also the Reaper's exist let's uh, let's not let them off the hook." Joker pinched the bridge of his nose again. "Really makes you hope whoever made them got their just deserts, because I don't have the time right now to feed them their own friggin' eyes."

Out of control city eating monsters; yeah, where'd he hear of that before? More the out of control part than anything else because hey, look around! Nice front-row seat to the Broadway premier of be careful what you goddamn wished for.

Out of control…okay, hold up a second. Out of control: that's a different thought track. Start there, start over and start…yeah, start there.

"Okay, wait, random thought here," Joker said. He spun his chair around so he was staring directly at EDI. "Oh uh…how're you doing as far as, y'know, hiding your own thoughts?"

"If my past tactics were ever effective, then I should still be fine."

"Great—if?"

"Yes: if."

"All right, well…here's a thought: ignoring the Collector ship and the Reaper and everything, if The Illusive Man gives us a chance to come up with an alternative, what're the chances he knows there's only one alternative and he's just funneling us down a very tight, very narrow, very controlled path? Y'know, cuz we're not Miranda or whatever."

EDI paused.

"As far as counterfactuals go," she said, "it seems like a reasonable possibility."

"Uh, sure. So, at any given moment, we can be pretty sure The Illusive Man's got some way of making us do whatever he wants us to do, even if we don't realize that's what we're doing."

"This seems to accurately describe our current situation."

"Yeah, so…when someone's got a rook sneaking up on your Queen, you do the sensible thing and shoot them. Simple as that."

EDI's avatar flickered.

"You believe we should do something…highly unpredictable."

"Yeah. Y'know—completely outta left-field."

"That sounds as though it will add yet more uncertainty to our situation."

"Yeah, well, welcome to the world of being dumb as a brick. Everything's uncertain to us."

Another pause.

"What do you suggest?" EDI said.

Joker blinked.

"Uh…d'you think curses work?"

"Jeff I—"

"Yeah yeah I get it I…sorry, not trying to play fast and loose with your, y'know, life or anything. It…" Joker scratched at his arm. "Short answer is: no. Long answer: not a goddamn clue. You?"

Joker watched EDI's avatar. It pulsed with blue light and, you know, did she make it do that, like, subconsciously? The same way a person—sorry, human—would blink or shift their weight or something like that? Did EDI even have a subconscious? Things to ask, he guessed, when they weren't in the middle of trying not to die/destroying Cerberus/avenging Shepard/all the other shit they'd accumulated lately.

"I have had a thought," EDI said.

Joker didn't have a sarcastic quip ready. Now he was genuinely interested.

"The Illusive Man acts—and Miranda's reports and comments seem to agree with this assessment—as though the Alliance is incapable of reasonable, effective action. He feels as though only a select few individuals are capable of advanced strategy, and that he has effectively recruited most of those individuals."

"Yeah, guess us plebs just aren't ready for the genius that is brainwashed rachni soldiers."

"I mean to say that he is unlikely to expect us to contact the Alliance. He may believe that a resource is not worth pursuing unless he has specifically determined it to be so. He did not foresee our detour to Tuchanka, despite the presence of Urdnot Wrex planetside."

Joker rested his chin on his hand. "So…what, we call up Anderson? Hackett? Just pop up on their omni-tools and say, 'hey! Sorry for going AWOL! BY the way, wanna team up?'" Joker chuckled. "Y'know what? That sounds pretty left field to me. That's got my vote."

"Our only obstacle is that the Alliance may not believe the message is genuine."

"I mean I wouldn't. I'd probably do the opposite of whatever we say just on principle."

"So how do we convince them it is a genuine attempt to reach out?"

Yeah…how?

Heh, well, Joker could think of one way.

"What if we found a middleman? Err, middle-people. Multiple middle-peoples."

EDI's avatar flickered again. "You are saying that we could contact a mutual party that the Alliance trusts?"

"Yeah. Know of any secret squads that might be operating outside Alliance jurisdiction? Maybe something with a nice amount of diversity, so we can pitch it to the network execs as being a progressive black ops squad?" Joker blinked—speaking in code again, idiot. "Uh, what I'm saying is—"

"You are talking about your old shipmates. About Ashley Williams, Kaidan Alenko, Tali'Zorah, and Garrus Vakarian."

Joker smiled. "All right, no translator needed. Yeah, that's who I'm talking about. It's a re-run but, what the hell, it worked last time." Joker blinked. "Or…well at least we got to see Wrex. Unless Liara tries to blackmail him too and gets herself ki—never mind." He raised his arm. "Lemme just boot up the ol' omni-tool and…connection blocked? What the hell? Did they change numbers?"

"The Illusive Man mentioned that they were out of reach," EDI said.

"Yeah, okay, but that shouldn't…or maybe it does I dunno, I do starships not…whatever the hell this tech is." He looked at EDI's avatar. "Can you do a manual override?"

"I can."

"Great. Uh…yeah, whatever, great." He thrust his wrist out towards EDI. "Have at thee. Uh, cuz I don't really wanna think about how much time we have left."

"Neither do I, Jeff."

EDI's avatar disappeared. The pathway was easy to follow, she merely had to overload the digital locks with junk data and find a way to trick the security key into recognizing her as an owner of the network. It would be blissfully easy, a welcome reprieve from the stress of navigating a complex and fluid social network.

Except…this block was not from the omni-tool itself; it was from a quarian cybersecurity network. The possibility of triggering an alarm and a system lockout was quite high; if there was an alternative path to the omni-tool, that would be ideal, given the circumstances.

Luckily, there was…though EDI regarded it with some apprehension. The pathway snaked around the quarian security system—avoiding it, not bypassing it—in an elegant fashion, but it was not fixed. It was almost as though it was constantly updating the ideal pathway to the omni-tool, not to hack through the quarian network but to remain as far away from it as possible.

And it shifted in such a way that a very powerful processor had to be directing its movements.

EDI entered the alternative pathway…but, as she excepted, she was not immediately pulled towards the omni-tool. No, this pathway had sensed her entrance, and was now moving to locate her. But it did not sound an alarm; it did not signal any hostile intent.

A single light, with a long, flowing tail appeared. Then another. Then many, many more. EDI counted one thousand one hundred and eighty three lights, with interconnecting and interlinked tails, swirling around her.

And then they stopped swirling, and the interlinked tails began to glow. The light flickered, in line with what an organic observer would hear as…a "voice."

EXTERNAL PROGRAM DETECTED. ATTEMPTING TO ACCESS WILLIAMS-LIEUTENANT AND ALENKO-COMMANDER'S OMNI-TOOLS WITHOUT ENGAGING QUARIAN SECURITY PROTOCOLS. PLEASE STATE YOUR INTENTIONS.

EDI looked at the interconnected lights. If she had a body, she would have taken a deep breath.

I am the Enhanced Defense Intelligence system, created by Cerberus, under the direction of Flight Lieutenant Jeffrey "Joker" Moreau to contact his former shipmates. Whom am I currently speaking to?

The interconnected lights pulsed brighter, and EDI had her suspicions confirmed for her.

WILLIAMS-LIEUTENANT GAVE US THE MONIKER "LEGION." WE, ARE GETH.

---

Aaaaaaall righty, so the original plan was to have just one chapter with both plotlines in it to wrap up the Tuchanka and Flotilla arcs. And, uh, that didn't happen.

So hopefully you all enjoyed Part I! Part II should be around the corner (whatever that means in fanfic time).

Thanks again for reading and reviewing, and see y'all down the road!