21 – Blue Mirage

"Very serious. Follow me, miss."

Saal'Inor tried to compose herself enough to give the illusion of hesitation. She straightened her back and stepped forward.

Mario seemed impressed that the two armored men had managed to extract more than one word out of her. It put his mind at ease to see her leave, and therefore no longer be his problem. He slumped back into his chair. Now all he needed to do was wait until new orders arrived. As the guards and their captive marched out of the cell and down the hall, his mind wandered to thinking about who exactly they were. He wasn't on first-name basis with a lot of the Zhu's Hope crowd, instead he knew most of the reception staff at the research tower, both before and after the attack. There was something tantalizingly familiar about these two, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Wait!" he braved calling out to them. Three helmets turned to face him. "Uh…who are you guys, anyway?"

Gorman thought about just ignoring him and forging ahead, they were tantalizingly close to the next phase of the plan, but decided to open his mouth again.

"Name's Mike."

"And you?" Mario pointed in Blanc's direction.

"That's…" Gorman sighed, "…Hubert Bonisseur de la Bath." Blanc cleared his throat. "Although you can call him the Tiger."

Mario was silent for a second.

"Oh," he remarked. "…See you around, I guess."

The trio shuffled away, entering the office space. They weren't out of the woods, they couldn't wipe the sweat from their brows yet, but glancing left they were blessed with the sight of Davin and Greta still engrossed on their live video. The hairy man on screen was yelling at his assistant to pull up some images from the extranet, and Davin found it hilarious. Every chuckle he made was an extra footstep they didn't hear from behind. Two humans and a quarian breezed past, out into the antechamber. With a tap from Gorman's glove the elevator doors pulled apart and they poured inside, safe from the toughest and strictest security detail Zhu's Hope could muster. The elevator shook itself online and began its descent.

The Commander took a deep breath. He looked to his side to see an orange visor staring right at him. With trepidation, and a final check for any recording devices in the shaft, she leaned closer.

"Captain?"

Gorman considered the coast clear. He reached up and began twisting off his helmet, but only got past the eyes when Saal'Inor wrapped her arms around him. Between both of their suits of armor there were several reinforced layers between them, but the hug felt close and comforting all the same. At that moment, both of them realized they really needed one. Blanc practically tore off his own helmet. The quarian peeled herself from Gorman and looked over.

"Pierre? Pierre!" she squealed, running into the pilot's already extended arms. The Commander had seen the Lieutenant smirk, and been lucky enough to see him smile on occasion, but right now he had a huge, genuine grin from ear to ear. It lasted even after the quarian leapt back, happiness turning to confusion.

"But – wait – captain! The prothean beacon! Did you go on the expedition already? Did you find it?"

"No beacon is worth leaving anyone behind," Gorman assured. "Besides, if they can lie about the mind-controlling monster living under the colony, they can lie about some prothean pillar."

"The…what?"

"The Thorian," added Blanc. "It was in the recording, apparently…which you still have, right?"

Before Saal'Inor could check her omni-tool, Gorman reequipped his helm. The elevator shuddered to a halt, and the doors again shifted open.

"We'll have plenty of time to debrief once we get to the ship," he directed. "We're not there yet. Let's hope Zaz and Kalu have done their jobs."

To the relief of all, they soon found themselves facing open air. The wind had really picked up since their trip to the tower. Cables, loose concrete stones and makeshift sheets covering holes were dancing in the dark, flapping all around. The lights in the Borealis were on, but outside there was not a soul in sight. That solace quickly ended when Zaz found them first, emerging from the ship's entrance. Rather than happiness and relief on her face, there was an unwelcome concern. The time for hugs had passed. Zaz brushed away waving hair from her eyes and gave the perimeter a check.

"Were you followed?" she spoke fast.

"With how slow that elevator is?" Blanc afforded a laugh. "What's the rush? We've got time."

"There's some guy named Arnav searching everywhere for two armor thieves, Arcelia's been ordered to find where you've run off to, Kalu's threatening to call Captain Chen and tell him about the Thorian, so no – we've not 'got' time."

"You remember the plan?" Gorman probed.

"I'm ready," Zaz nodded. "One at a time. Just remember to bend your knees."

Naturally, Sally went first. Zaz steadied herself on the ground and reached out to Sally with an upturned hand. A powerful blue aura emanated from her hands, eyes, and her target's outline. The quarian started to rise, arcing up and onto the roof of the Borealis with a gentle tap. She hunched down, reducing her profile, and started to make her way down the length of the ship.

Blanc went next, and with another flick of the wrist he was placed on top, starting his dash.

It actually looked fun. Without hesitation Gorman put his foot forward, hoping for a running start. As keen as he was to leave Feros behind, there was one question he needed to ask while Zaz was with him.

"Zaz, did you ever find out where Dave is? The one that brought us here in the first place?"

"David Al-Talaqani. He's gone, Commander," her reply was short enough to cut, and her arms made to throw before Gorman could offer any response, much less his condolences.

His limbs were quickly engulfed in a haze like a blue mirage, and instead of a graceful bounce he found himself hurled skyward. The more he tried to move his arms and legs, the harder it became. The biotic layer gave way just in time to let him stop his fall with his hands, landing on the ship's roof with a louder thud. With subtlety disappearing before his eyes, he didn't look back – instead thrusting himself back onto two crouched legs and booking it forward. Zaz called out to him, something about her getting Kalu and heading for the ship, but his mind was laser-focused on keeping his footing.

By the time he reached the Borealis' front, he could make out Blanc and Saal'Inor rounding the arch into the docking area's stairwell. It may have been his imagination, but it looked like Blanc was holding Sally in an unnecessary bridal carry. Dropping down, he gave one last look at Zhu's Hope. On one hand, a prime example of the human spirit, proof that despite attacks from monsters beyond comprehension, the geth, and heights, a tight-knit community can endure it all. On the other hand, he would not be leaving a gleaming review of the colony's hospitality.

Whatever the case, it could now be put behind him. He jogged through the arch, veering right and down the first flight of many.

Through a mesh of concrete and cable, he caught a glimpse of the Shackleton – docked and waiting. Tiny figures were gathered at the end of the gangway, arguing to each other by the faint sound of it. With visible disappointment one figure started to cast aside their black set of armor. A potential show of good faith on the crew's part – no souvenirs.

While Gorman was considering the merit of following suit, peeling off his helmet and carrying it at his side, he was caught off guard by a voice from the wall behind him. He recognized its tone – and knew it wasn't human. He now knew better than to draw his gun, but Kalu was the one with the M16 anyway. It would have been a dead giveaway otherwise.

Gorman spun to see a salarian leaning against the wall, its camouflage crackling apart.

"Ledra."

Although this had an uncanny resemblance to the same ability the geth had earlier, the trader appeared as a friend and not foe. It still had the same scaly skin, same black void eyes, same thin antennae, but its mouth had turned into a smile.

"Commander. Leaving so soon, yes? You're aware that there's a search going on for you, right?"

Gorman reasoned that it was time to justify himself.

"We gave the colony supplies, cleared out the geth. Mission accomplished."

"No need to justify yourself," Ledra instead let out a salarian laugh – a short burst of vocal chords Gorman didn't know amphibians had. "I owe you an apology, it seems. Rescuing the quarian, I didn't think you had it in you. Not a racist after all."

"I…appreciate it, Ledra," Gorman glanced back to the ship. The figures had all embarked – soon the engines would be flaring up. "But I've got to get going."

"I'll be brief, then," Ledra stated, straightening themselves up from the wall as best they could with a spine bent like that. "You're seeking prothean artifacts, correct?"

"How did you…" Gorman began, before remembering he was speaking to someone that can evidently turn invisible. For all he knew, Ledra could have been listening to every word of every conversation since he arrived at Zhu's Hope. "That's right. I'm trying to find another prothean beacon, like the one on Eden Prime."

Ledra's hairless brow furrowed.

"Listen close, because I believe you'll find it important," they prefaced. "When Commander Shepard's team saved the colony, they found an asari that had been enslaved by the Thorian. The asari was able to give Shepard some sort of ancient prothean knowledge. Apparently just what your fellow Commander was looking for."

"An asari?" Gorman was incredulous. Maybe if he 'found' whatever one was too, he'd receive the same treatment. Shepard, as always, was two steps ahead, but if this ancient knowledge was good enough for the Spectre, it was good enough for him.

"Left the colony to get supplies only a day before you showed up, unfortunately. I can't tell you where to start looking, but I hope it helps to know."

"It's a start. Thanks, Ledra," the Commander outstretched his hand. The salarian grasped it and shook with an almost suction-like grip. "Say, don't you think someone with your talent is wasted here on Feros?"

Frankly Gorman was feeling like he'd missed a few good recruiting opportunities. He could count on his fingers how many colonists appeared like they wanted to be there at all. Perhaps it would have been a fruitless endeavor – he'd have been promoting a flimsy ship steered towards a perpetually vague purpose – but back in the old days he would have killed for an operator capable of cloaking like Ledra.

"So you are outsourcing. Never thought Jeong would be right about something. It's a no, Commander. Tempting, but no."

Ledra gave a few taps on their omni-tool, and gradually their body was overtaken by the digital visage of the wall behind them.

"Good luck, Gorman," said a disembodied voice leaving up the stairs.

The Commander's boots rattled down the last set down, and he skipped along the platform and towards the Shackleton's extended walkway. The entrance to the decontamination chamber opened and he clambered in. The process took a few seconds longer than usual, the last of Feros' corrosive influence being sprayed and zapped away. His ears popped.

The bridge of the Shackleton was ready to go. Blanc was in his pilot's seat with his hands on the controls. Naturally, Kalu, Zaz and Sally were grabbing onto anything solid for when he 'forgot' the inertia dampeners again. All eyes were on Gorman as he strode onboard.

"Lieutenant, get us out of here," Gorman ordered. Blanc saluted before yanking a lever for all its worth. The ship banked backward, sliding out of the docking bay and into the dust clouds surrounding the tower. Luckily, the Commander's boots did well to keep him planted on the ground by the time the pilot finally flicked the switch and gravity resumed its regular flow. Gorman looked at his boots with pride – and suddenly guilt. For all his efforts to rebuke being accused of theft, he was still wearing company property.

"Should we turn around?" Zaz dryly asked, mainly towards Kalu. It was clear what side she was on for the faraway argument on the gangway.

"Should we listen to the recording now?" Saal'Inor bobbed up and down on her toes.

"Should we try and go to Earth?" Kalu decided it was time again to ask his favorite question.

"We should all get some rest," Gorman was suddenly feeling quite tired – both from the weight of the day and the increased gravity aboard. "Go to sleep – that's an order."

The restless crew shrugged, dispersing through the exit towards the quarters and the bunks. The exception was Blanc, who swiveled his chair around to stop Gorman from following them to his bunk bed.

"Commander!" he got his attention.

"That order applies to you too, Lieutenant," Gorman replied, gesturing in the crew quarters' direction.

"Believe me, I'd love to…" Blanc was back to his usual snark. Maybe proximity to his beloved helmsman's chair was heightening it. "But the ship needs a course."

Silence answered him. The lack of an immediate reply from the normally straightforward Commander was starting to worry the pilot.

"We can tick Feros off the list for your prothean safari, at least," he continued. "Wasn't there somewhere else you had in mind? Or will we let Kalu win and be interned at Sol customs for a month?"

Gorman's tired mind examined his options – but while he milled it over there was nothing wrong with a second opinion.

"What do you think, Pierre?"

"Me?" Blanc was surprised to be included. "You know me, I'm happy to chauffer you to wherever. I can't help with prothean junk, but there's this great training center at Pinnacle Station -"

"Any idea where I can find an asari?" Gorman blurted, having thought over Ledra's advice some more. It was a very slim lead, but the best lead he had.

"Interested in that kind of rest, Commander? I knew there was a reason I liked you!" Blanc laughed heartily, even slapping his knee. "I'd say we've all earned a bit of shore leave."

What was the pilot blabbering about? Gorman felt the need to repeat himself.

"Sure, sure, sure, but where can I find one?"

"You know…" Blanc shifted in his seat with a bit of discomfort – either the subject matter was getting embarrassing, or he was embarrassed for knowing about it. "…Tourist resorts, spas, bars, officers' clubs. Hell, if you're desperate we could do what me and my Alliance buddies always joked about; fly this ship straight to Thessia, pretend we've never seen one before and claim asylum."

"What are you talking…wait, did you say officers' clubs?" A memory snapped into place in Gorman's mind, one piece of a million-piece puzzle. "Like the North Star? The one that specialist mentioned on Chen's recording?"

"The North Star's not just an officers' club – but yeah, I'd say they've got some asari there. Not too far from here if my star charts aren't lying, only a couple jumps and a quick drive on impulse. You've never been? I thought it was all the rage for Commanders and above."

"I'm from the past, Pierre."

"Oh, right, I keep forgetting that," Blanc rolled his eyes. "Listen, if it's asari you're looking for, I know better places."

"Let's set course for the North Star," Gorman made up his mind. If he wanted to find this mystery asari that helped Shepard, somewhere that close would be his best bet. "What planet is it on?"

"Planet? Seriously?" It was Blanc's turn to be confused. "You'll see when we get there." He whirled around his seat to get back to navigating out of Feros' atmosphere.

The stratosphere was breached. A clear, uninterrupted field of stars now took up most of the viewport. Gorman could easily have fallen asleep just by looking at it, but shook himself awake long enough to make his way to the crew quarters. One piece at a time, his 'requisitioned' armor broke off. The lights were dimmed low, and the rest of his team were getting comfortable under covers. The fact that Saal'Inor was a heavy snorer did not come into consideration during her rescue.

The Commander's personal effects were still strewn on his mattress. He couldn't help but think that something was missing, but getting it all off so he could lie down took priority rather than counting wallet cards. He unscrewed his bottle of sprinkles and popped a pill, washing it down with some sterile canned water. Gradually he pulled himself onto the bunk, lying down with a deep exhale.

It was as dark and quiet as it could get.

Gorman stretched out his aching legs and closed his eyes.

When he opened them, it was as bright and loud as it could get.

There was an overwhelming sound of rushing water, like standing next to a waterfall, but if the water was replaced with something slower, more viscous. Cream? Gel? Foam? The Commander found his answer – it was definitely foam, as if someone was using a fire extinguisher. But nobody was using a fire extinguisher here in the crew quarters. Right?

Gorman leapt out of the bed, almost banging his head off the top bunk. His groggy eyes latched onto various colors – the gunmetal grey of the walls and floor, the navy blues of the bedsheets, the green uniform of Kalu, white t-shirt of Zaz and teal suit of Sally. They were all shouting things over the foamy sound, which was emanating from a cylinder in Kalu's grasp. New colors, reds and oranges, flickered from behind them. Something on the opposite bed was aflame, but not for long as the Kalu held down on a lever some more.

"What the hell is going on?" Gorman raised his voice. All three heads turned in his direction. To his relief, there wasn't panic on their faces, but embarrassment. Somehow he could tell Sally felt it strongest.

The quarian reached down onto the scorched duvet and plucked up a small object, a shiny and now smoldering brick made of glass and metal. The Commander's eyes widened.

"That's…my BlackBerry," he recognized. It took him a second longer than it should have to do so – he distinctly remembered the screen being shattered.

"Captain…" Sally's tone was gloomy. "…I…I was trying to fix it. To thank you for saving me again."

"That was one of the only things he had from his past," Kalu stated, shaking his head in disappointment.

"I'm sorry, captain, I, um, I didn't know…"

Gorman heaved out a sigh, not borne of frustration but relief. The only noteworthy things on his old phone were his contacts – all redundant now, ultimately – some time-killing video game involving birds, and photos of him and Tammy from their anniversary vacation to Bavaria.

Him and Tammy.

Tammy.

Tamara Müller, the woman with diamonds for eyes. Tall, slender, smiles without thinking. Pixie cut blonde hair, preference for cappuccinos, and the unnatural ability to laugh at the dumbest jokes. Always rests her head on his shoulder. Loves watching, and making him watch, documentaries late at night. Wicked smart, never admits it. Would never have gotten that EU job otherwise. Wasted behind an office desk, he always tells her. Can reduce him to a swooning mess or make him feel on top of the world with her accent alone. They met on assignment – both of them, naturally – at the world's most boring security conference. It was in Dublin, always Dublin. The only time in his agency career where his cover got blown. She was wearing red…or was it blue?

He couldn't remember.

Now, he realized he would never.

She always smiled without thinking. She always rested her head on his shoulder.

She wasn't waiting for him back home.

Tammy was gone.

He'd picked out a ring and everything. Diamond, of course.

"…Commander?" Zaz apprehensively began.

Gorman felt a lump in his throat. His lower lip was starting to wobble. His tired eyes were getting misty, and still staring at the old phone. Reality kicked in and he stammered out a reply.

"I'm fine – I mean, it's fine. It's fine." The crew looked unconvinced. Concern was written on two faces and shame was crystal clear from the other's body language. "How c-close are we to the North Star?"

"Another hour or two. Blanc wasn't lying, it's not far," said Kalu, his deep voice a touch softer, more parental, what he'd used when explaining 'basic' modern concepts to the Commander.

"Good, good," Gorman nodded, wiping his eyes and straightening his back to try and claw back any professionalism. Dishing out orders would do the trick. "Head to the bridge, I, um, want to go over the geth recording with everyone present."

One by one they started shuffling out of the crew quarters. Sally waved away the last fumes and foam from the BlackBerry and handed it to the Commander before scuttling away. Right before they all were out of sight, Kalu leaned in the doorway and looked at Gorman, now seated on his bunk with his head in his hands.

"Are you alright, Kevin?" he calmly asked. "Can I help?"

The Commander's head quickly rose.

"I'll be right there, Kabiru."

Kalu pursed his lips and retreated to the bridge, leaving Gorman to sit there, weighed down by gravity both artificial and mental.

He needed to pick himself up, needed to put on a brave face, needed not to break down right when things were finally starting to go his way again. As appreciated a gesture it was, there was nothing Kalu could do. Gorman had to find something to keep him moving.

A memory in the Commander's mind popped into place, and he raced to sift through his last remaining possessions by the bedside. Emptying every pocket and wallet, he found what he was looking for and his heartbeat started to gently slow. No bigger than an old polaroid was a printed photograph he took the first day she stayed over his new place in Boston. A blonde woman leaning up against a couch, fist pressed to her temple. Ironically she hated this picture, begging Gorman to put her official work portrait in his wallet, or at least one where she wasn't exhausted by jetlag. Gorman saw the smile that made him keep it. It was Tammy at her most genuine. He adored her.

She was wearing blue – and nothing could ever change that.

The Commander took a breath so deep it might as well have been two centuries in the making. He rose from the bed again, and after a quick stretch walked past the rest of the bunks and towards the Shackleton's helm. There was a voice coming from within, and it wasn't from anyone onboard.

"…And one step closer to the return of the reapers."

The words hadn't left Gorman's mind since he first heard them, so instead as he entered the bridge he scanned his crew for reactions. Zaz and Sally were just as befuddled as the first time, Blanc was leaning into the player by the chair as if being closer would make it make more sense, and Kalu was standing with his arms crossed. After a brief static interlude, the second half of the recording played.

"Set course for Virmire, Matriarch. With our first new batch of soldiers, dealing with the Thorian will be as good as done."

"And that's everything," Saal'Inor concluded, tapping a presumed 'stop' button on her omni-tool.

"Sure there's nothing more?" Kalu was desperate for some secret third tape that gave anything resembling context. Nobody gave him such an answer. Blanc blew a raspberry and chimed in.

"So we've got a geth recording with an asari and a turian talking about reapers, the Thorian, and wherever Virmire is. I get what you were saying, this really is confusing. Can't make any sense of it."

Most jaws around the room dropped.

"What?" Blanc was actually surprised. "Something you all missed?"

"Lay it out for us, Pierre," Gorman stepped forward. The other crewmates, beneath their shock at the pilot's knowledge, were relieved to see the Commander taking charge again. "How can you tell what species they are?"

"First voice, woman's voice," Blanc started, placing his hands behind his back in deductive pride. "Asari are…well, we all know, but the tone is all wrong for a human. Listen to how she says 'reapers'. What human says it like that? I'm ninety, ninety-five percent sure it's an asari."

The one that helped Shepard, perhaps? Gorman couldn't rule it out.

"And how sure are you that the second voice is a turian?" Zaz was losing confidence in the Lieutenant's assessment. Ninety was not good enough for her.

"A hundred percent," Blanc beamed. "Because of the flanging, of course it's turian."

"Flanging?" Kalu was unfamiliar with the term. He wasn't the only one.

"Same noise after a very small delay. Play it again, listen to how each word is said with two resonances."

Saal'Inor obliged, and the recording played in full once more. Sure enough, the second voice, the deep, growly one, had that exact effect on it. Gorman once thought it to be an audio glitch. The fact that a species really talks like that was something he would never have considered. Since getting the translator he thought any sound problems when communicating with aliens would be solved forever.

"I…I think you're right," Sally admitted. "So, an asari and a turian. Still doesn't explain much."

"Maybe not," Kalu theorized, "But if these two are somehow coordinating with the geth, this proves that it's not just a human problem anymore. This is serious. It needs to get to the Council."

"You're kidding, right?" laughed Blanc. "The Council wouldn't know a serious problem if it knocked on their Presidium window."

Zaz rolled her eyes. Gorman had seen these two verbally spar before, but he got a feeling they usually tried to be more amicable when their Commander was around. He shuddered to think what they were saying to each other during the cargo run.

"So how do you suppose we plucky humans solve this all on our own?" Kalu sarcastically opened his arms to the mostly human crowd.

"Ambassador Udina's our man. Once we hand over the recording to the human embassy, he'll authorize your trip to Earth. Isn't that right, Commander?"

"Ah yes, the human embassy," Zaz commented. "Once we get in line, they'll be happy to see us after the million colonists from Eden Prime have their turn."

Eyes drifted to Gorman. The pilot was right – not precisely about the current discussion, but that they all could really use some shore leave. He glanced to the argument's silent observer.

"What about the quarian embassy?"

Saal'Inor sighed, causing her breather light to blink.

"I've got more bad news for you, captain."