Shepard vas Normandy

by FalconEcosse

Summary:

Alexis'Shepard has fought her way through the ranks of the Alliance Navy, proving herself time and time again until she was the candidate they had for the Alliance's chance at a Spectre. How will she balance the demands of the Alliance on Commander Shepard and the expectations of humanity that carries vs her Quarian adoptive family, which has been her only family since she could remember?

Long form story across the Mass Effect Trilogy and beyond. With what was supposed to be a slow burn romance between Shepard and Tali but someone poured eezo over one chapter which catapulted the timeline for the romance forward.

Notes:

Welcome to the first chapter of a hyper fixation hole I have fallen into and churned out a lot of chapters quite quickly, also my longest fic to date with the longest chapters to date.

Comments and questions are welcome!

Chapter 1: I

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

I

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

Alexis’Shepard strides purposefully along the edge of the CIC towards the bridge. The soft metallic clinks of her suit reverberate in the enclosed space, a stark contrast to the hushed whispers that ripple through the crew as she passes. She can feel their eyes on her, the weight of their gazes heavy with a mix of admiration, fear, and curiosity. The audio receptors embedded in her helmet pick up snippets of conversation—half-formed questions and unspoken worries—from those who think they’re out of earshot. It’s a familiar yet unnerving sensation, the recognition that being in her position comes with both power and isolation.

Alexis can’t fault them for their apprehension. They know her name and her past, marked by struggles and triumphs alike, even before they think about her upbringing. The more perceptive among them realise that the presence of both Captain Anderson and Commander Shepard on board points to something far more critical than just a routine shakedown cruise. The air crackles with the tension of impending events, and each crew member feels it. A Spectre’s arrival only amplifies this unease, as the implications of such presence cast a long shadow over their mission.

Shepard wishes she has a clearer understanding of their destination. This doesn’t feel like a mere shakedown cruise; after all, no one brings a Spectre along for casual test runs. She keeps her unease carefully buried within, grateful for her helmet that masks any flicker of concern on her face. Just moments earlier, she overheard a few officers expressing their own apprehensions, but she swiftly clamped down on their chatter. They aren't wrong to feel uneasy, but they need to show the crew a united front behind the captain. As the Executive Officer, she is responsible for taking on the role of the bad cop across the ship, which she isn't entirely comfortable with, but that is the role Anderson requires of her.

Standing tall with her shoulders squared and hands clasped firmly behind her back, Alexis focuses intently on the captain’s readouts flickering before her. She feels the comforting hum of the Normandy’s drive core resonate through the deck, a reminder of the ship's power and reliability. The crew around her bustles with activity, moving rhythmically like clockwork; the rigorous pre-deployment drills they’ve undergone have clearly forged a seamless camaraderie.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alexis keeps a wary watch on the Turian Spectre. Something is unsettling about him; his piercing gaze seems to constantly track her whenever they are in the same room. Although she is accustomed to scrutiny from her senior officers—having fought tooth and nail through their judgments to rise to her position—this feels different. The thought of someone with authority to operate beyond the bounds of regulations observing her sends prickles of alarm skittering down her spine. She doesn't particularly care for his opinion of her; what matters more is Anderson’s orders to maintain decorum. She will not let down her captain, nor will she fail one of the few officers who recognise her as something more than the enigma that straddles the line between not-quite-human and not-quite-Quarian.

As the Normandy gracefully slips into faster-than-light travel, the bridge is momentarily illuminated by the soft glow of control panels. Nihlus, the enigmatic Spectre, departs with a fleeting compliment that lingers like a whisper in the air. Flight Lieutenant Moreau, affectionately known as Joker, leans back in his chair, a hint of frustration apparent in his voice as he vents to his co-pilot, Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, the marine Commander.

“Keep your focus on flying the ship. Just ignore the Spectre,” Alexis interjects, her tone slicing through the banter like a sharp blade, effectively severing the conversation just as Captain Anderson activates the intercom.

“...and tell Commander Shepard to meet me in the comm room for a debriefing,” Anderson instructs before promptly closing the channel.

“You get that, Commander?” Joker asks, keeping his eyes on the helm but nodding slightly towards Alexis.

“I did,” she replies, her stance already turning towards the exit.

“Is it just me, or does the Captain always sound a little pissed off?” Joker murmurs to Kaidan, the tension in his voice an undercurrent of shared camaraderie amid the seriousness of their mission

As Alexis navigates through the CIC, her gaze ensures that Navigator Pressly is managing their plotted course effectively. The air between them was heavy with unspoken tension, remnants of their tenuous relationship evident yet restrained by professionalism. Stepping into the comm room, she is greeted unexpectedly by Nihlus, sparking a flash of unease in her.

“Commander Shepard, I was hoping you would get here first. It gives us a chance to talk,” he states, his deep-set gaze focusing intently on her.

“What about?” Alexis replies, hoping her helmet muffles her frosty tone of voice.

“I’m interested in this world we are approaching, Eden Prime. I’ve heard it’s quite beautiful,” Nihlus remarks, pacing before her.

“I wouldn’t know; I’ve never travelled there,” she shoots back, her brow arched in a mix of curiosity and guarded scepticism.

“But you know of it. It has become a symbol for your people, hasn’t it?” Nihlus continues, his voice smooth yet probing. “Proof that humanity can not only establish colonies across the galaxy but also protect them. But how safe is it, really?”

“I’ve heard it has turned into something of a human statement, yes. Do you know something?” Alexis queries, her heart racing slightly, the implications of his words weighing heavily upon her.

“Your species are still newcomers, Shepard. The galaxy can be a treacherous place. Is the Alliance truly ready for this,” Nihlus says, but his sentence is abruptly interrupted by Captain Anderson entering the room.

“I think it’s about time we told the Commander what’s really going on,” Anderson announces, stepping beside her with an air of urgency.

“This mission is far more than a simple shakedown run,” Nihlus remarks, his piercing eyes still locked on Alexis.

She rolls her eyes slightly, frustration seeping through as she replies, “That much was obvious from the moment you stepped on board. The entire crew has already figured that out.”

“We are making a covert pickup on Eden Prime. That’s why we needed the stealth systems operational,” Anderson explains, his tone solemn.

“There must be a reason you didn’t tell me about this, sir,” Alexis challenges, an edge of bitterness creeping into her voice, underscoring her dissatisfaction at being left in the dark as the Executive Officer.

“This information comes down from the top, Commander. It’s strictly need to know,” Anderson says, his expression apologetic, though it offered little consolation as he elaborates on the research team’s recent discovery of some ancient Prothean artifact on Eden Prime. And goes on to explain how Nihlus’s presence here was to evaluate her capabilities as well.

“What is going on, Captain?” Alexis asks, eyes darting between Anderson and Nihlus, her agitation palpable.

Her heart sinks like a stone, heavy with the realisation of the gravity of her situation. Anderson’s revelation about her candidacy for the Spectres strikes her like a bolt of lightning, leaving her momentarily speechless. “Humanity has been waiting for this for a long time…” he continues, his voice resonating with a potent mix of pride, hope, and expectation, echoing through the charged stillness of the room.

Though she recognises this as a monumental honour, an unsettling apprehension churns within her, a cold knot slowly tightening in her stomach as memories of her past wash over her like a black tide. “There is no way I was humanity’s first pick,” Alexis declares, her voice echoing with a mix of disbelief and resignation. The weight of her past hangs heavily over her, each memory a reminder of the rejection she faced from the Migrant Fleet before she even thought to don the uniform of the Alliance Navy. 

That painful history lingers in her mind like a ghost, intertwining ominously with the suffocating expectations now thrust upon her shoulders. Growing up as a human among Quarians, Alexis had experienced firsthand the institutionalised hatred and prejudice that ran rampant throughout Council space. She could still remember the sidelong glances, the scornful whispers, and the outright refusals to serve her and her mother in shops and public spaces. The pervasive mistrust, the constant suspicion—every moment spent in the open was a reminder that they were unwelcome. Her mother, Mari'Saalas, had always held her head high, teaching Alexis to do the same, but the sting of those encounters had never fully dulled. They had learned to rely on each other, to find solace in the tight-knit community aboard the ships they called home, but the scars of that discrimination ran deep.

Even as a child, Alexis had understood that her presence was an anomaly, a human child among a people that the galaxy viewed as little more than vagrants. She had watched her mother, a proud Quarian marine, endure the condescension of Council representatives, had seen her argue passionately for their right to be treated with dignity, only to be dismissed time and time again. The lessons she learned were bitter ones—that the galaxy was not fair, that respect was not freely given, and that she would always have to fight for her place in it.

These memories now resurfaced with a vengeance, their weight pressing down on her as she considered the offer being thrust upon her. To become a Spectre was to serve the very Council that had turned its back on her people, to enforce laws that had been written with the exclusion of Quarians in mind. The irony was not lost on her, and it left a sour taste in her mouth.

“Your actions during the Blitz not only demonstrated exceptional courage but showcased an impressive level of individual skill and initiative,” the Turian commends, his voice steady and authoritative. The weight of his words causes Shepard to blink in surprise; a mix of pride and disbelief swirls within her.

“Respectfully, I don’t believe I’m the right fit for the Spectres,” Alexis replies, choosing her words with care. She wants to avoid offending her mentor, but the very thought of working for the Council, gallivanting across the galaxy as some sort of assassin-cop, feels surreal. It was a path she had never anticipated for herself.

Anderson watches her intently, his expression revealing a hint of disappointment, yet there is an understanding in his eyes as if he comprehends the reason behind her refusal.

“I strongly disagree,” Nihlus interjects, his gaze unwavering and intense. “Elysium is indisputable proof of your skill and determination. You possess what it takes to get the job done."

The mention of Elysium tightens a knot in Alexis’s stomach, and she fights back the grimace that threatens to surface. The memories of that harrowing battle loom over her like a ghost, haunting her every step. A part of her is relieved that Nihlus has chosen not to bring up Akuze; she already has too many ghosts. “I’m a Marine,” she asserts sharply, her conviction rising. “I’m not cut out to be a police officer or an assassin.”

Nihlus’s mandibles flare slightly, a gesture that might be amusement. “Since when do N7s shy away from ‘eliminating high-value targets’?” 

She wants to lash out, to explain that this was different. Her battlefield kills of terrorists and enemy commanders were part of military operations, sanctioned and strategic. Yet the thought of taking on the multifaceted role of a Spectre—operating within a framework that often felt morally ambiguous—left her uneasy. It infuriates her to think that, knowing how little she trusted the Council and their inaction, she would now be expected to form part of that system. Time and time again, they had stood idly by while the Alliance and the Batarian Hegemony engaged in their undeclared war, a conflict that had cost the lives of so many of her comrades. 

Moreover, her past experiences haunt her decision. She is very aware of the Council's treatment of the Quarians—an injustice she has experienced firsthand while growing up with her adoptive mother. The pervasive prejudice, the constant denial of services, and the underlying suspicion that surrounds the Quarians paints a grim picture of the reality within Council space. This atmosphere of discrimination pushes her to reckon with the implications of stepping into a role as a Spectre. Was she really willing to become enmeshed in an organisation that had so often failed in its duty to protect the most vulnerable? The weight of her thoughts bore heavily upon her, sowing seeds of doubt in her mind about whether accepting this responsibility would truly be the right decision.

“This isn’t merely about you, Shepard,” Anderson emphasises, his voice filled with a blend of urgency and concern. He leans forward slightly, his eyes locking with hers in a way that conveys the weight of his words. “Humanity needs this. We are counting on you.”

Shepard feels a sharp pang of helplessness settle in the pit of her stomach, an unsettling sensation that grips her tightly, the sense that she is being “voluntold” into a role she has never chosen for herself. Among all the endings she has envisioned for her Marine career, this one has never even touched her imagination.

Anderson remains steady, clearly intent on laying out the gravity of the situation as he continues, “You’ll be leading the Marine detachment that is tasked with retrieving the artefact for immediate transport. Your mission is to secure it and ensure it is loaded onto the ship as quickly as possible. Nihlus, will accompany you to observe.”

“I’ll go get the Marines ready to jump, with your permission, sir,” Alexis says shortly, not wanting to think about what she is being forced into anymore with an obvious mission in front of her to focus on.

“Granted, XO—” Anderson begins, his sentence cut short as an urgent beep from the intercom slices through the tense atmosphere.

“Captain, we just received a signal from Eden Prime on the priority emergency channel,” announces the comms technician, urgency lacing his voice. “You’ll want to see this right away.”

Alexis barely has time to process the distress call that blares through the comms when she sets off at a brisk jog toward the armoury, her heart racing with urgency. Her mind races with thoughts of her team’s safety as she taps out a quick message on her HUD, instructing her squad to gear up. As she bursts into the armoury, she finds her Marines already assembling, the muted clatter of equipment echoing against the metal walls. Kaidan jogs in behind her, his expression focused and ready for action.

The air is thick with the smell of oil and metal as the Marines pull on their full combat suits, the familiar sound of armour sliding into place punctuating the tension in the room. In contrast to her team, Alexis works with precise efficiency, strapping on her combat gear atop her already-worn suit. She fastens a webbing harness across her chest plate and carefully attaches a variety of pouches designed to hold essentials—from her suit repair kit to medical supplies and even spare rations and glucose pills. Grenades dangle from a belt loop, their presence reassuring yet ominous.

With a practised motion, Alexis retrieves her sidearm, a sleek pistol that feels right in her grip. She checks the loaded heatsink meticulously, ensuring it’s primed for action, then slaps it into the magnetic holster on her thigh, feeling the comforting click of the lock. Picking up her assault rifle, she inspects it with the same rigour, running her fingers across the rifle's cool metal and ensuring everything is in working order.

“Ma’am, sir, do we have any idea of the situation or the enemy?” Sergeant Draven calls out from a nearby workstation, her hands deftly packing extra explosives alongside Corporal Jenkins and PFC Fredricks, who watch with wide eyes.

“The only things we know are that it’s bad on the ground and that our troops are getting overrun.” Kaidan cuts in, his voice steady. “As for the enemy, we don’t have any details. We’re going to be the first squad on the ground, so our secondary objective is to gather as much intel as possible,” he states, securing his assault rifle across his back.

Alexis nods in agreement, her expression serious. “Listen up, everyone. We’re going in blind. I need all of you switched on and smart about this. No stupid heroics. Our primary mission is to locate the beacon and figure out who decided it was a good idea to attack a human colony,” she emphasises with a firm, commanding tone that brooks no argument.

Jenkins and Fredricks, the youngest members of the squad, share a glance, their expressions caught in a complex mix of excitement and fear as they file out of the armoury. They take their positions near the cargo doors, bracing themselves as the Normandy streaks toward the planet’s surface, the engines humming with power.

“Draven, when we hit the ground, I want you to take Fredricks and Roberts with you. Alenko and Jenkins, you’re with me,” Alexis instructs, her voice cutting through the rising tension as she deliberately avoids acknowledging the sound of Nihlus approaching.

“Approaching drop points,” Joker’s voice crackles through the speakers, his tone calm yet laced with urgency.

“You’re coming with us?” Jenkins asks, his eyes lighting up with naive optimism as he looks up at the Turian, clearly eager for action.

“I move faster on my own,” Nihlus replies succinctly, his demeanour cool and composed, hardly missing a beat as they prepare to disembark. The moment the cargo bay door lowers just enough, he leaps out, gravity pulling him to the planet below without a moment’s hesitation for a safe drop.

“Nihlus will scout ahead. He’ll feed you status reports as you advance,” Commander Anderson explains across the comms, his voice steadying them for the mission.

As the ramp opens wide enough for her to see the war-torn landscape beyond, Alexis approaches the edge, feeling the rush of air whip around her. The overhead light flashes green, a clear signal that it’s time. Taking a deep breath, she leaps off the ramp, her boots striking the ground below with a heavy thud that reverberates through her body. Drawing her weapons, she quickly assesses their surroundings, the acrid smell of smoke in the air and plumes of it rising ominously on the horizon.

“Draven, take up position on our right,” she commands, her voice sharp and decisive, slicing through the tense air as the squad moves forward. The distant colony looms ahead, an ominous silhouette against the fading evening sky. The rolling hills envelop them, their undulating contours providing both concealment and a sense of foreboding as they press into the unknown.

Each step feels heavy with the weight of their mission. As they advance, the remnants of the recent conflict come into view—scorched earth and the charred remains of structures stand as grim testament to a desperate struggle. Broken beams and twisted metal lay strewn across the fields, telling a silent story of those who had once tried to escape but were met with brutal violence. The acrid scent of smoke lingers in the air, mingling with the fresh earth.

“Oh god. What happened here?” Jenkins stutters, his voice barely rising above the eerie stillness that hangs heavily in the air.

“Smells like smoke and death,” Kaidan responds, each word laced with exhaustion and an unshakeable weight of despair. His gaze sweeps across the desolate landscape, taking in the charred debris and haunting silence left in the wake of the turmoil.

Alexis, ever vigilant, scans their rear as Jenkins and Kaidan push ahead, struggling to suppress the haunting memories of the Elysium—a place once vibrant, now reduced to a vivid nightmare, a grim reminder of the Blitz. Alexis carefully steps over the lifeless bodies and gaping craters that scar the ground, each footfall echoing the horrors they’ve witnessed.

“Comman—” Jenkins begins to shout as he confidently leads the squad around a twisted corner. But before anyone can brace for impact, a volley of charged projectile rounds pierces the air. The sound is deafening as the deadly projectiles shred through Jenkins’ shields and armour, sending him crashing violently to the ground, his cry of shock mingling with the chaos around them.

Their shots ring out in unison, bullets crashing into the sleek frames of two high-tech drones that hover ominously overhead. Each drone, armed with a menacing small cannon affixed to its undercarriage, responds with a whirring sound as it pivots to identify its targets. But Alexis and Kaidan, fueled by urgency and precise coordination, unleash a torrent of fire. Their concentrated firepower strikes true, and with Draven’s team flanking the drones, the metallic foes are dispatched swiftly—hissing and sputtering before tumbling to the ground in a heap of broken circuitry.

As the wreckage smoulders, Alexis forces herself to momentarily look away, refusing to acknowledge what she fully understands the drones represent. Instead, her focus shifts to Jenkins's body, where Kaidan has already knelt, his expression strained as he checks for signs of life.

“Ripped straight through him, never had a chance,” Kaidan murmurs grimly as he gently closes the lifeless eyes of the young soldier, the weight of loss settling heavily on his shoulders.

Alexis nods, fiercely pushing her emotions aside to maintain focus on their daunting mission. “Mark him for recovery,” she instructs, her voice steady but urgent. “We need to keep moving.” With determination, she strides toward the array of drones nearby while Kaidan begins entering the details for recovery into his omni, knowing they would have to return for the fallen.

Crouching beside one of the downed drones, Alexis activates her omni-tool. The holographic interface flares to life, illuminating her visor with rapid streams of data. As she scans the wreckage, her heart sinks in recognition. “Keelah,” she breathes, a mix of dread and disbelief lacing her tone. She immediately activates her comms, her voice firm despite the rising anxiety. “This is Shepard. Geth presence confirmed. Multiple drones engaged and destroyed,” she transmits, knowing how dire the situation has just become.

Kaidan approaches her, brow furrowed as he surveys the drone's remains. “Are you sure?” he questions, disbelief edging his voice. “The Geth haven’t been seen outside the Veil in nearly 300 years. Why are they here now? What could they possibly want?”

Alexis feels a surge of frustration at his scepticism, battling to keep her composure. “Yes, I’m certain,” she retorts, her voice clipped. “I would wager they’re here for the same objective we have.” With that, she signals to the rest of the squad to advance, the urgency of their mission overwhelming personal feelings.

Taking the lead, Alexis presses on down the narrow path toward the colony, her senses heightened. She’s acutely aware of the incoming data from Nihlus, which feeds critical information about hostile targets directly into their HUDs. They deftly navigate around larger concentrations of Geth, relying on their training to avoid unnecessary confrontations. The few skirmishes they cannot sidestep are handled with precision, each squad member executing their role with practised efficiency, turning the adversaries into mere piles of scrap. As they advance, Nihlus signals he is breaking further off from them to investigate some burnt-out buildings, leaving the squad to advance blind.

The distant sounds of gunfire soon break through the ambient sounds of the environment, sharp and sporadic, guiding them further into the fray. The unmistakable crack of Geth's weaponry echoes ominously, heightening their awareness of the impending conflict.

As they approach a small clearing, a lone Alliance soldier bursts into view, sprinting frantically across the open space. She fires backwards at pursuing enemies, her expression a mixture of determination and desperation. Just as she dives behind the cover of a large rock, a volley of Geth fire rips through the air, lighting up the area where she had been a moment before.

Emerging from the direction the soldier had come from, a contingent of Geth combat platforms advances, their menacing forms stark against the backdrop of destruction. Heart racing, Alexis instinctively dives into cover, her assault rifle slipping behind her shoulder as she swiftly unholsters her sniper rifle. With expert precision, she extends it and aligns her targeting reticle on the glowing eye of the nearest Geth. Her finger squeezes the trigger, and the gun kicks softly against her shoulder as she fires. The round hurtles through the air with lethal speed, striking true and shattering the Geth’s optical sensor, sending metal shards flying. The moment her shot lands, the remaining Geth shift their focus to her position, weapons at the ready, engaging her with ruthless efficiency.

Beside her, Kaidan conjures a powerful biotic field, his abilities crackling with energy as he shields Alexis from incoming fire. His gestures are fluid, moving with an ease that comes from battle-hardened experience. Together with the soldier’s rifle fire and Alexis’ precise sniper shots, they unleash a torrent of firepower that decimates the Geth, reducing them to lifeless heaps in a matter of moments. The clearing falls silent save for the sounds of their heavy breathing, the adrenaline coursing through their veins as they prepare for whatever lies ahead.

With the Geth now a smouldering heap of metal before them, Alexis strides toward the soldier, who hastily scrambles to their feet. The soldier deftly ejects a spent heat magazine and loads a fresh one, their heart racing as they attempt to push aside the troubling question of why the Geth had erected those ominous metal spikes.

"Thanks for your help, Commander. I didn’t think I was going to make it there for a minute,” the soldier says, brushing dust off their armour. “Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the 212. You the one in charge here, ma’am?” 

Alexis, assessing the situation, nods firmly. "Any injuries, Williams? Still in the fight?"

“A few scrapes and burns, nothing serious,” Ashley replies with a hint of urgency, her eyes darting around for any further threats.

Alexis inspects Ashley's armour, searching for any signs of severe damage, then nods in approval. “Good, we need to keep moving. You’re with us,” she commands as she turns, her gaze fixed ahead toward the distant outlines of the colony.

“We are part of the team sent for the beacon. Do you know where it is?” Kaidan inquires, falling in step beside Alexis.

“Yeah, we were guarding it at the dig site up ahead before the Geth overran us,” Ashley shares, her voice steady despite the chaos. She falls into line alongside Kaidan, their boots crunching against the debris scattered across the ground.

As they pass an obliterated Geth, Alexis can’t restrain herself any longer; she delivers a swift, decisive kick to its unyielding torso. “Bosh'tet,” she mutters under her breath, frustration spilling over. She casts a glance at Ashley, seeking more information. “Anything you can tell us about the beacon?”

Ashley’s expression shifts as she recalls the past. “They were doing some digging to extend the monorail and expand the colony. A few weeks ago, they unearthed some Prothean ruins…and the beacon." She shudders involuntarily, a chill running down her spine at the memory. “That thing gave me the creeps. Suddenly, every scientific expert in the colony wanted in. That’s when they brought us in to secure the site. I don’t know much about the beacon itself, but I overheard one of the researchers say this could be the biggest scientific discovery of the century.”

As they traverse the war-torn landscape, taking out a few Geth that cross their path, Alexis maintains her focus, her sniper rifle crackling with precision as she activates its powerful mechanism. “What about the attack? How did the Geth catch you off guard?”

“We were sent out a couple of nights ago from the main colony to secure the area. It seemed like a routine patrol until the Geth struck,” Ashley explains, her voice tense. “We never knew they were coming. Damn, synthetics were silent…” 

Alexis nods, her thoughts racing. “And the researchers at the dig site? Any chance they’re still alive?”

“I don’t know. They set up camp near the beacon. If that’s what the Geth are here for, I don’t like their chances. But…the 232 was with them. Maybe their unit fared better than mine," Ashley answers, uncertainty in her voice.

Suddenly, Alexis takes aim and blasts the central light off a distant Geth’s head. “You wouldn’t have happened to see a Turian Spectre around here, have you, Williams?”

Ashley narrows her eyes, suspicion and confusion mingling in her expression. “There aren’t any Turians on Eden Prime. None that I’ve ever met. Not sure I’d be able to tell if one was a Spectre anyway.”

Kaidan chuckles lightly, the tension easing for a moment. “If you saw this guy, you’d know. Carries enough firepower to wipe out a whole platoon. Luckily, he’s on our side.”

“Sorry. Like I said, no Turians.” Alexis catches the slight edge in Ashley’s voice—a hint of superiority that, regrettably, she’s heard echoed among many humans in the galaxy. It gnaws at her, and she makes a mental note to keep an eye on Ashley’s attitude, hoping she’s not another Alliance soldier eager to prove humanity’s dominance rather than truly collaborating for the greater good.

“Let’s keep moving,” Shepard orders, and the trio ploughs forward through a narrow valley sheltered by rising hills. The other team maintains a safe distance to their right, ready to provide covering fire.

“The beacons at the far end of this trench,” Ashley indicates, her eyes scanning the terrain ahead with determination as they press on.

As they pass, Kaidan inspects one of the spikes, “Eden Prime will never be the same again. That man was still alive when they stuck him on it.”

Ashley’s voice turns angry, obviously enraged and traumatised by the events she’d witnessed, “Killing us isn’t enough. The Geth want us to suffer. Impaling victims instead of just shooting them…there must be some reason behind it.”

“They are Geth. That’s the reason,” Alexis asserts, her voice laced with frustration as anger begins to seep through her words.

The Alliance soldiers carefully emerge from the muddy trench, their boots squelching against the damp earth, and step into a clearing where concentric stone circles rise from the ground. A series of large stones lie scattered in a seemingly haphazard arrangement, their surfaces worn and weathered by time. The stark landscape surrounding the circles is barren, devoid of any vegetation, lending an eerie stillness to the site. The walls are marred by dark dig marks, evidence of excavation efforts that have disturbed the ground. Ashley halts, her gaze fixed on the centre of the arrangement, an unsettling realisation dawning on her. “This is the dig site,” she murmurs, her brow furrowing in concentration. “The beacon was right here. It must have been moved.”

Shepard groans. She’d hoped they wouldn’t have to go searching for the Prothean artefact, but that just wasn’t meant to be.

“By who? Our side? Or the Geth?” Kaidan’s brow furrows as he echoes the unspoken fears swirling in Alexis's mind, his voice laced with uncertainty.

“Hard to say. Maybe we’ll know more after we check out the research camp,” Ashley replies, her shoulders lifting in a casual shrug though doubt flickered in her eyes.

Shepard’s voice takes on a tinge of pessimism, far more than she intends. “With what we’ve seen, do you really think there’ll be anyone still alive?” Her words hang in the air like a dark cloud, a flicker of sadness flashing across Ashley’s face, the unintended consequence of her blunt honesty.

“If they were lucky…Maybe they’re hiding in the camp. It’s just up there,” Ashley suggests, her tone tinged with a fragile sense of hope. “They could’ve locked themselves in one of the research labs, kept quiet and avoided the Geth.” Yet, as she speaks, the realisation seeped in that such survival was nothing more than a faint glimmer of optimism amidst the bleak reality.

Suddenly, the authoritative voice of the Turian Spectre cuts through the tension, sharp and commanding. “Change of plans, Shepard. There’s a small spaceport up ahead. I want to check it out. I’ll wait for you there.” The abrupt shift in focus leaves a lingering sense of urgency in the air, amplifying the uncertainty of their next move.

Shepard nods in affirmation as they advance, ascending the series of ramps that lead to a compact cluster of research labs. The labs are tightly packed in a small clearing, surrounded by an unsettling array of metallic spikes jutting ominously from the ground. Among these jagged protrusions, the remains of dead colonists are tragically suspended. The sight of them, left to die in agony, is made even more grotesque by the dark, congealed blood that stains the ground at their feet, evidence of their suffering. Strange, intricate markings mar their skin, deep channels carved by the Geth—indelible scars that hint at cruel experimentation, etched into flesh like a grim testament of their fate.

Kaidan scans the area before him, his rifle sweeping methodically across the landscape, every muscle taut with anticipation. “Something doesn’t feel right,” he murmurs, an edge of unease threading through his voice. The setting is all too perfect for an ambush, yet the silence hangs heavy in the air, oppressive and foreboding. Just then, the three soldiers turn their attention toward an ominous sound — a metallic creaking as one of the jagged spikes slowly descends into its hidden base, the faint echo sending a chill down their spines. Before their astonished gaze, the colonist undergoes a profound metamorphosis. The remnants of their flesh shimmer with an otherworldly blue light, illuminating the darkened surroundings. As if in response to some unseen force, their skin gradually changes, shifting from a lifelike hue to a stark, eerie grey. The transformation is both mesmerising and unsettling, casting an eerie glow that dances among the ruins. The former colonists rise from the ground, their bodies trembling as they regain their footing. With an eerie synchronisation, they pivot to confront Shepard’s squad, their mouths opening wide to unleash a chilling screech that pierces the air with an otherworldly intensity, echoing with a sound that defies human capability. “Oh, god! They’re still alive!” Kaidan shouts.

They sprint toward the trio, their gaunt, inhuman forms staggering and twisting as bullets rip through them. Each shot jerks their bodies, tearing through flesh that barely seems to register the impact. Only a headshot or devastating blow to the torso brings one down for good. One of the creatures lunges forward, slipping past the hail of bullets and closing in on Alexis. It crashes into her, clawed fingers clamping onto her armour, scratching and screeching against the metal as it fights for purchase. She staggers, her sniper rifle knocked from her grip as the creature tries to tear through her visor, its feral, mechanical eyes locked on hers.

"Kiyet," she growls, the word vibrating with a visceral defiance. With a swift movement, she knocks its arms aside and seizes it by the throat. The creature writhes, its weight pressing down on her, but Alexis raises her arm, summoning her omni-blade with a hiss of light. She drives it upward, directly through the creature's skull. The blade pierces bone with a sharp crack, and as it exits the other side, a strange, thick blue liquid bursts from the wound, splattering across her visor.

Shepard drops the corpse, instinctively shaking her hand to clear the liquid. It clings to her fingers, thick and strange, leaving streaks on her glove as she tries to wipe it off. All around, the fallen creatures lie sprawled, each oozing the same unnatural blue fluid that stains the ground beneath them.

She retrieves her rifle, slipping it onto her back before crouching next to one of the bodies. “They’re just husks,” she murmurs, voice heavy with disgust and horror. “It’s like there’s nothing left of the person.” Gently, she lifts one of the arms, her fingers tracing over the torn flesh, where a deep wound reveals strange, metallic wiring threaded beneath the skin. Her stomach tightens. “Wait…are the spikes stripping away their organic parts and replacing them with synthetic ones?” She looks up, her brow furrowing. “Why would the Geth do this? I get it could be psychological, but these things don’t even seem like proper shock troops. They went down too easily. Are they just...a distraction?” She scans the area, tense, half-expecting a wave of Geth to surge out of the shadows and attack.

Ashley hangs back, gaze flickering over the corpses with a mix of wariness and disgust. “Maybe. It must take a few hours for the spikes to turn people into these…things. That’s probably why the ones we saw before didn’t come after us right away.”

Kaidan joins Shepard, crouching beside her. His face is grim, his voice low. “At least we know what the spikes are for now. Turning our own dead against us…” He shakes his head, eyes darkening with the thought. “We should destroy any we come across before they...transform.”

The three exchange looks, a silent resolve passing between them. The horror of their situation settles like a weight, but there’s no time to linger on it. They rise, readying themselves to move forward, leaving the blue-streaked remains of the husks lying still in their wake.

Alexis rises, her voice firm, “Agreed. Let’s check the labs and see if there are any survivors,” before she keys her radio, “Draven, we are heading for the labs now, sitrip.”

“All green, will rally with you there,” Draven responds, her voice having a shaken quality to it.

The trio moves through the eerie silence of the colony’s outskirts. The first few small buildings they enter are desolate, the rooms filled with scattered equipment and personal belongings left in disarray. Either the scientists had fled in haste, or they’d been ambushed before they had a chance to pack, caught in a desperate fight they were ill-prepared for. Small, dark patches of blood stain the floors, grim evidence that Shepard’s second assumption was the likely truth. The absence of bodies, however, suggests something even grimmer: the Geth had likely dragged them away to impale on those grotesque spikes they’d seen earlier.

While Alexis works at a data console, trying to retrieve any clues about the attack, Ashley’s voice calls urgently from outside. “Commander! You’ll want to take a look at this!”

Shepard steps outside, her hand instinctively hovering over her pistol as she joins Ashley. “What is it?”

Ashley points to a small structure nearby. “This one. The door’s shut and the security lock is engaged.”

Alexis activates her omni-tool, focusing on the lock. “If the door’s still locked, maybe there are survivors inside. Hopefully, they can tell us more about what happened.” Her fingers move swiftly over the controls, her skill evident. Years of tinkering with tech on long, monotonous flights had made her more adept than most, though hacking had never been her speciality. One last swipe and the door unlocks with a faint hiss.

The room beyond is dim, with a pair of figures huddled in the shadows. One, a woman, lets out a startled gasp at the sight of the armed figures in the doorway. Alexis raises her pistol, aiming reflexively, only to be stopped by the woman’s frantic plea. “Wait! We’re human! Don’t shoot!”

Alexis lowers her weapon, eyes scanning the room for threats. The woman stands, a mixture of fear and relief etched on her face, while the man beside her crouches in the corner, arms wrapped over his head as though shielding himself from some unseen threat. His eyes, though partially hidden, reveal a haunted, glassy look. He glances wildly around the room as if expecting the Geth to burst in at any second.

“Close the door! Hurry, before they come back!” he whispers, his voice thin and taut, fraying at the edges.

Alexis steps inside, her tone firm but gentle. “Relax, you’re safe now. We’ll protect you.” She keeps her voice as reassuring as possible, but there’s an urgency in her movements. She gestures for Kaidan to seal the door behind them, locking them into a cramped, tense space with the two survivors.

The woman exhales shakily, nodding as if convincing herself of Shepard’s words. “Thank you. I…I think we’ll be okay now.” She glances past Shepard, taking stock of the empty, silent camp outside. “It looks like everyone’s gone.”

Shepard catches the woman’s lingering hope, and it tightens something in her chest. She resists the urge to tell her that everyone else in the colony is almost certainly dead.

Ashley steps forward, recognition flashing across her face. “Dr. Warren? You were in charge of the excavation here, right? Do you know what happened to the beacon?”

Dr. Warren’s eyes darken, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her pack. She hesitates, clearly dreading what she has to say. “It was moved to the spaceport this morning. The Alliance said they were sending a ship to pick it up.”

Shepard pinches the bridge of her nose, the headache of shifting mission parameters settling in. “That would be us.”

Dr. Warren nods. “Manuel and I stayed back to pack up the camp. When the attack came, the Marines held them off as long as they could. They…they sacrificed themselves to give us time to hide.”

The man, Manuel, suddenly lets out a strangled cry, shattering the uneasy calm. “No one is saved! The age of humanity is over! Ruin and corpses await us all!” His voice is a raw, frantic rasp, echoing off the cold walls. Shepard meets his wild, terrified eyes for a brief moment, and in them, she sees the madness that too much horror can carve into a person’s soul.

Keeping her attention on Dr. Warren, Shepard speaks gently. “Can you tell us anything about the attack? How many came, if there was anyone besides the Geth?”

Dr. Warren’s gaze drops to the floor, her face pale as she recalls the events. “It happened so fast. One moment, we were gathering our equipment. The next, we were barricading ourselves in here while the Geth overran the camp.”

“AGENTS OF THE DESTROYERS! BRINGERS OF DARKNESS! HERALDS OF OUR EXTINCTION!” Manuel’s voice rises to a shriek, his words more desperate with each outburst.

Dr. Warren winces, her voice trembling as she tries to continue, “We could hear it all outside. Gunfire. Screams. I didn’t think it would ever end. And then…it just went quiet. We didn’t dare move until you came.”

Shepard’s jaw tightens. “Did you see a Turian in the area?”

Manuel lurches forward, his eyes wide with frantic intensity. “I saw him! The prophet! He was here before the attack. He led them, the Destroyers!”

Kaidan glances at Shepard, eyebrows raised. “That’s impossible. Nihlus was with us on the Normandy. He couldn’t have been here.”

Dr. Warren gently pulls Manuel back, guiding him to a chair, her hand resting on his shoulder as he continues to tremble. “I’m sorry. Manuel’s…not well. We’ve been hiding in here since the attack and haven’t seen anyone.”

“Didn’t think you would’ve,” Shepard replies, sighing. “But any idea why the Geth might want the beacon?”

Dr. Warren’s eyes light with a fierce, almost reverent curiosity. “It’s a data module, Commander—a link to an ancient, galaxy-wide communications network. It could be the greatest scientific discovery of our lifetime, maybe even on par with the Prothean archives on Mars. Imagine the knowledge in there! Technology, medicine…secrets locked in that beacon could change everything.”

Manuel’s voice drops to a chilling murmur, his eyes unfocused, his words half to himself. “We have unearthed the heart of evil. Awakened the beast. Unleashed the darkness…”

“Manuel, not now,” Dr. Warren says, her own voice shaky as she tries to contain him, but his words grow louder, echoing in the small room.

“What happened to him?” Shepard regrets the question as soon as it’s out.

Dr. Warren sighs, shoulders slumping. “He’s brilliant but always a little…unstable. Genius and madness, two sides of the same coin.”

Manuel's voice rises, raw with conviction. “Is it madness to see the future? To see the doom racing toward us, inevitable as nightfall? I am not mad. I am the only sane one left!”

Dr. Warren places a hand on his shoulder, giving Shepard a weary glance. “I gave him an extra dose of his meds, but after what he’s seen…”

Shepard opens a canister on her belt, pulling out a vial. “Here. It’s an anaesthetic. It’s meant for injuries, but it’ll keep him calm for a few hours.”

Dr. Warren takes it with a look of gratitude mixed with uncertainty, glancing between the vial and Manuel. “You can’t stop it! None of us can! The darkness of eternity is upon us!” Manuel’s ravings become incoherent, his body trembling, until Dr Warren administers the anaesthetic, slowly lowering him to the floor as he slips into sleep.

“Thank you,” she whispers, looking back at Shepard.

Shepard nods, raising her omni-tool. “I’ll contact the Normandy to send someone to get you. In the meantime, stay here. I’ll lock the door on my way out.”

Dr Warren nods, her face relieved but sombre. “Be safe, Commander.”

Shepard allows herself a small, hidden smile behind her visor. “I’ll do my best.” She steps outside, sealing the door behind her as she turns to her squad. “Draven, hold here. Fallback if you need to, try to take the scientists with you if you do but enough Marines have died today. Williams, take us to the spaceport.”

Draven nods as she motions for Fredricks and Roberts to set up around the building to cover the angles of approach, “Copy that, Commander. Good luck,” she says.

---

They have been moving through the colony as fast as possible, the spaceport their goal. They finally arrive, finding it deserted of any organic life but still teeming with Geth. They have seen no trace of the other Turian Manuel had mentioned. Alexis is starting to think he hasn’t actually seen anything, and the Turian is just a projection of an unwell mind.

Shepard shakes the Geth off her arm, wiping the equivalent of its blood from her arm when Kaidan calls out to her, “Uh…Commander. You might want to look up.”

She follows the biotic’s line of sight to the clouds, where a huge ship dominates the sky and blocks out half the star that Eden Prime orbits around. It is the same ship that was in Ashley’s distress call. Seeing it on a screen did not prepare her for the vessel in real life. The ship is massive, bigger than any dreadnought she’s ever seen. Even the Turian armada doesn't have a ship that big.

Ashley clearly didn't see the ship when she’d sent the distress call, the shock evident in her voice, “It’s a ship…look at the size of it!” What amazes Alexis far more than the size of the ship is that it can even get into the atmosphere of a planet. No dreadnought in the Alliance Navy, or any species’ navies, had enough of an Eezo core to even attempt such a risky manoeuvre. They would fall to the ground under their own weight, crushing anything they happened to land on.

“We don’t have time to stare at the ship all day. Let’s get moving.” Alexis doesn't give them a chance to respond, moving off and making her way deeper into the spaceport, even though she can spend entire days staring at ships when not on duty.

As they press forward through the colony, the team finds themselves in a relentless battle against the Geth, the synthetic beings that had become the bane of their existence. Each encounter is characterised by the sound of gunfire erupting from all directions, as the Geth engages them almost as soon as they lay cameras on their foes.

Alexis feels a wave of anxiety wash over her, fighting the things that resulted in the formation of the Migrant Fleet, but she recalls the invaluable lesson her mother had instilled in her from a young age: always keep moving and ensure your shields are activated to safeguard your suit’s integrity and the delicate seals that protected her from the hostile environment. She tightens her grip on her weapon, becoming acutely aware of the weight of the armour encasing her body. With adrenaline surging through her veins, she navigates the battlefield with agility, ducking behind debris while her shields hummed with energy, ready to absorb any incoming fire. In the heat of battle, she understands that survival hinged on her ability to stay vigilant and proactive, perpetually aware of the dangers lurking in the shadows.

Alexis holds up her fist, telling the squad to halt. She unholsters her sniper, noting the location of several Geth. They are clustered around a small shack, attempting to open the door from the outside. From what she can see, it has been locked from the inside, perhaps with Human survivors inside. Alexis motions for Ashley and Kaidan, pointing out the targets she wants them to hit. Each pulls their own snipers out, scoping down at the synthetics.

Alexis breathes in, slowing her heart rate as best she can. All three will have to take out Geth with a single shot if they hope to save whoever may be hiding in the shack. “Now.” The snipers fire, blasting apart three Geth and sending them tumbling to the ground. They all fire again, taking out another three. Only one remains, the last Geth spotting them where they lay on the ground. It fires, attempting to lay down suppressive fire, perhaps to give it a chance to call for reinforcements. Kaidan produces a large barrier, the attack deflecting harmlessly, letting Alexis squeeze off another shot, the Geth exploding in a shower of sparks.

They jog down the hill, snipers back on their backs and assault rifles filling their hands. “Cover me.” Alexis runs to the door, pulls up her Omni tool, and begins the hack. A sound makes her look up. She watches in shock as the ship above them descends even further into the atmosphere, red bolts of electricity streaming off it as its Eezo core works overtime to keep it from falling. She returns her attention to the door, unlocking it quickly.

The door hisses open, revealing an empty room. Alexis sighs, deflated that they haven’t managed to find more survivors. “Everybody stay calm out there," a man’s voice says. Alexis draws her pistol, aiming further into the room as three people, two men and a woman, pop up from behind some storage crates. “We’re unarmed," one of the men says.

“Is it safe? Are they gone?” The woman’s voice is full of fear, a wide-eyed look of terror etched into her face.

“You’re all safe now. We’ve cleared out all hostiles.” Alexis doesn't think it is necessary to tell these unfortunate people they had nearly been killed by Geth.

Again, the first man speaks up, “Those things were crawling all around the shed. They almost got through the door. When we heard gunfire, we were sure it was all over. We owe you our lives. I’m Cole, by the way.”

Almost hiding behind Cole, the other man stammers, “I-I-I still can’t believe it. When we saw that ship, I thought it was all over.”

Cole rubs his eyes, “It showed up right before the attack. Knew it was trouble the second I saw it. So, we made a break for the sheds.”

“Anything you can tell me about the attack? We’ve only found a few other survivors, and it looks like they were far away from the initial strike," Alexis asks.

“We were working the crops when that ship showed up.” As the memory returns, Cole’s face drains of colour, “We just saw it and ran. I don’t know what happened to anyone else.”

“They were by the garage.” The second man looks even more afraid than Cole, staring at the floor as his hands fidget with the edge of his shirt, “Over near the spaceport. Right where that ship came down. No way they survived.”

The woman almost yells out, “You don’t know that! We survived. They could’ve made it to the garage and locked themselves in, just like we did. They could’ve had a fighting chance!”

“What about the ship you saw? Anything particularly strange about it besides its size?” Alexis asks.

Cole shakes his head, “I was too busy running to get a clear look at it. I think it landed near the spaceport.”

The woman behind Cole prods his side, “Tell them about the noise, Cole. That awful noise.” All three farmers shudder involuntarily at the mention of it.

Cole swallows, disturbed by whatever they’d heard, “It was emitting some kind of signal when it came to the ground. Sounded like the shriek of the damned. Only it was coming from inside your own head.”

Alexis tries to hide any surprise that may have popped up. She has never heard of anything like what Cole was describing. She’s seen sonic weapons in action, but they were generally a targeted thing. And they didn’t sound like that; they just made your head hurt and forced you to the ground. “Most likely, the ship was trying to block any communications from the colony getting out. Lucky some got through to us.”

“Whatever it was, it felt like my head would explode. Almost made it impossible to think.” Cole says.

The Alliance soldiers prepare to leave. “We’ve cleared out everything in that direction. You can make a break for it, or we can lock this door again and give your location to our ship. The Alliance will send someone to pick you up.”

“We’ll stay here, thank you.” Cole salutes Alexis, a terrible imitation of the sign of respect. If any of the soldiers under her command had done that, she would’ve reprimanded them for not taking the chain of command seriously.

“Hey, Cole.” The woman behind him prods him in the back, “We’re just a bunch of farmers. These guys are soldiers. Maybe we should give them the stuff.”

Cole shoots an angry glance behind him, “Oh for fu… you gotta learn when to shut up.”

Alexis narrowed her eyes and stood in front of Cole, “You’ve got something you want to tell me, Cole?”

Cole sighs, seeing that he has no choice, “Some guys at the spaceport were running a small smuggling ring. Nothing major. In exchange for a cut of the profits, we let them store packages in our sheds.”

Alexis takes a step closer to the farmer looming over him, even with her shorter height. Her armour gives her more height, “It sounds like you’re breaking the law, Cole. And…I don’t like being lied to.”

Cole shrinks back under the Commander’s glare, withering away from her, “We’re not hurting anybody! Hell, I don’t even know what’s in the packages most of the time. I just thought there might be something we could use. I found a pistol. Figure it would come in handy if those things came back. But you’ll probably get more use out of it than we will.”

Alexis stares down at the offered weapon. The pistol isn't military grade, but it's more helpful in fighting off a mugger than the Geth they’d been fighting. She decides to go easy on the man, “Keep it. Just in case anything gets through the door.” Alexis almost starts to walk away before the look of unease on Cole’s face brings her back, “We’re risking our lives to save this colony. You sure there’s nothing else in here that could help us out?”

Alexi's stare breaks through Cole’s shell, “Yeah, there’s one more thing.” He reaches into a bag slung over his shoulder, handing over several grenades, “I was going to sell it after this was over. But you probably deserve it more than I do.”

The Commander hooks the explosives to her armour and begins to march away. Ashley approaches the terrified man, asking, “Who’s your contact at the spaceport, Cole? What’s his name?”

“He’s not a bad guy. I don’t want to get him in trouble. Besides, I’m not a snitch!” Cole protests.

Alexis rounds on the man, anger flashing behind her helmet, “Don’t want him to get in trouble? Look around you! Everybody in this entire fucking colony is in trouble! He could know something that helps us save more people. Now give me his name, you tak’tal.”

“Okay, okay! You’re right! His name’s Powell. Works at the docks at the spaceport. If he’s still alive," Cole says.

“Good. Now get inside so I can lock the door.” Cole retreats in. Alexis pulls up her Omni tool and locks the door the moment he is across the threshold. She fires off the coordinates to Normandy, pulling her rifle out once more and moving further into the spaceport.

They watch as the Geth start to move away from their position towards the ship that has landed on the other side of the colony. It suggests it is indeed the Geth’s ship, even if it is not a design she recognises from the old Quarian files. The Geth have probably been building it for decades, perhaps even centuries, considering the size. The squad shoots at the retreating synthetics, taking out as many as they possibly can. They return fire over their shoulders, missing the soldiers by a wide margin. They must have gotten what they came for and are packing up to leave. Hopefully, they will still have time to get to the beacon before the Geth leaves with it.

Alexis looks down the path they are travelling on, and her blood runs cold. There is the body of a Turian, and the distinct black and red armour is all too familiar. Blue blood is spattered everywhere, most of his head missing. “Commander…it’s Nihlus.” Kaidan’s words fall on deaf ears as Alexis confirms the body's identity with a quick scan.

Alexis shouts a series of curses in Khelish, startling Ashely and Kaidan, the two Humans jumping away from her. A crash of boxes falling causes all three of them to pivot and aim their weapons at the noise.

“Something’s moving! Over behind those crates!” Ashley marches towards the source, holding her rifle steady.

A Human pops up from behind where he’d been hiding, hands vertically above his head, “WAIT! Don’t shoot! I’m one of you! I’m Human!”

Alexis sighs, “That was really dumb. Sneaking up on three armed soldiers! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Alexis's verbal assault hits the man hard, and he stares at the ground in shame.

“I…I’m sorry. I was hiding from those creatures. My name’s Powell. I saw what happened to that Turian if you wanted to know. The other one shot him.” Powell says

“Wait, what other one?” Had Manuel been right about another Turian being on Eden Prime? “How did Nihlus die? I need to know.” Alexis asks quickly.

Powell comes forward a bit more, emboldened by the fact that he has information for the enraged Commander, “The other one got here first. He was just standing there looking over the spaceport when your friend showed up. Called him Saren. I think they knew each other. Your friend let his guard down, turned his back and…” Powell’s expression falls, “Saren shot him in the back of the head. I’m just glad he didn’t notice me.”

“We were told the Prothean beacon had been brought to the spaceport. Where is it? Has Saren got it?” Alexis asks, focusing on her mission objectives for now.

“It’s over on the other platform. Probably where he was headed after killing your Turian. He got on the cargo train straight after. It would’ve taken him straight to it.” Powell puts his hands on his hips, cursing under his breath, “I knew that thing would be trouble. Whole colony went to shit the moment they unearthed the damn thing. First, that huge ship showed up. Then, the attack. Everyone dying around me. Everyone! If I hadn’t hidden behind here, I’d be dead too!”

Alexis's mind dawns on the realisation, “Wait, you said your name was Powell? Cole mentioned you. You’re his contact on the docks. For the smuggling ring.”

Several expressions flash across the man’s face, surprise, fear and finally denial. “What? No! I mean…yes technically…” He throws his hands up in defeat, “What does it even matter now? So, I’m a smuggler? Who cares? My supervisor’s dead. The entire crew’s dead. None of this matters anymore.”

Alexis grabs Powell by the collar of his shirt, lifting him clean off the ground with a single hand, “Have you ever heard of the Skyllian Blitz? Do you know why Elysium was attacked? For no fucking reason. And you know who was there? Me. I held off those fucking pirates. And you know what would’ve happened if some greedy little bosh'tet like you had been there? Maybe I wouldn’t have survived. Maybe your selfishness would’ve gotten me and that entire colony killed. Maybe those pirates would’ve continued their attacks and destroyed other colonies.” She tugs him closer till his nose is inches from the faceplate of her helmet, “A lot of marines died here, Powell. Maybe they’d be alive if you hadn’t stolen those grenades. If I were you, I’d be thinking long and hard about a way to make it up to them.”

Alexis lets go, and Powell collapses to the ground in a heap. He looks despondent, the Commander’s words hitting him at his core.

“Now. Tell me about the attack.” Alexis demands.

Powell starts earnestly, trying his best not to anger the soldiers further, “It was quick. One minute, the ship appears. The next, those things were swarming everywhere, thousands of them. They must have been inside the ship.” He takes a shaky breath, “They just started shooting anything that moved. Anyone close by didn’t stand a chance.”

“How are you the only one who survived? Why wouldn’t anyone else try to hide with you?” Alexis asks, fidgeting to get as much information as possible before moving on.

“They…never had a chance. I… I was already behind the crates when the attack started.” Powell explains.

Kaidan voices what they were all thinking, “Wait…you were already hiding before the attack?”

Powell stares sheepishly at the ground, “I sometimes need a nap to get through my shift. I sneak off behind the crates to sleep where the supervisor can’t find me.”

Ashley almost screams at him, “You survived because you’re lazy?!”

“So, not only are you a smuggler, but you shirk responsibilities to your job too?” Alexis growls, “You’d be dead like all the others if you hadn’t. Consider yourself lucky.”

“I guess…I…” He falls silent under their stares.

Alexis turns to Ashley and Kaidan, “We need to get to that beacon before the Geth get away with it. We’ll take that train over.” She turns back to Powell, “I suggest you start running. I can’t say we’ve cleared out all the Geth, so you better run fast.” Powell scrambles to his feet, running as fast as his legs will carry him. “Really makes you lose faith in Humans. Come on, let’s go.”

The train is a short way away, teeming with Geth troops. The squad dives for cover as larger Geth begins to fire rockets in their direction. Alexis glances out for just a moment, her position immediately falling under Geth fire. She sighs, pulling one of the grenades Cole had handed over out. “This’ll give us some cover. Advance once it’s gone off.”

Alexis leaps out, throwing the grenade and sprinting along the path. She ducks behind the cover just as it goes off, only to pop straight back out and continue her assault. Her rifle is constantly firing, taking out Geth left and right. One manages to fire a rocket; Alexis barely spins out of the way, feeling the heat of the explosions and shrapnel against her shield. She runs forward, vaulting over the offending Geth’s cover, wrestling the rocket launcher out of its hands. Alexis blasts it at short range with her pistol flush against its neck before kicking the wreck away. With that Geth dealt with, she reaches down grabbing the rocket launcher quickly, slinging it up over a shoulder to sink to one knee, firing the moment she locked onto one of the larger Geth.

The synthetic explodes in a fireball, taking out many of its allies with it. Alexis drops the rocket launcher, picking her pistol up and destroying the last adversaries with precision strikes. “Onto the train, now.”

The train speeds down the tracks, sending the Alliance squad flying past a few Geth patrols on the ground below. The Alliance squad ducks to hide their identity, luckily avoiding attacks from below. They pull into the station at the other platform, sneaking out of it and hiding behind a stack of crates. Alexis scans the area; the Geth are even denser here than they had been at the station.

Kaidan suddenly taps her on the arm, pointing to the other side of the tracks, “Demolition charges! They’re trying to blow this whole place up.”

Alexis springs into action, thinking of a plan on the fly. “Spread out and find every bomb. I am not losing that fucking beacon after all this.” She sprints off before either of her subordinates can respond, keeping low and crossing the bridge leading to the train's other side.

She comes up to a Geth from behind; she leaps at it, driving her Omni blade through its head while firing her pistol at another. They both go down in a tangle of limbs, removing them from the fight; Alexis dodges a wild punch from another, grabbing the arm as it goes past and turning it at an unnatural angle, even for the synthetic. She pulls it forward, pressing the barrel of her pistol into its chest before she unloads into it.

Even as she approaches the bomb, Alexis already has her Omni tool open, ready to disarm it. The trigger mechanism proves far easier to disable than she would have thought, shutting it off in a few seconds. “Bomb is disarmed. Report.”

“Done here,” Kaidan says.

“Disarmed, Commander,” Ashley reports.

“Any more hostiles?” Alexis asks.

Simultaneous “No, Commander”s sound in Alexis's ears.

Ashley and Kaidan follow Alexis through the station, finally crossing a small bridge and finding their goal. The Prothean beacon is still there, filling their surroundings with a gentle hum. It throws off a green light, pulsing every few seconds. Alexis looks at the beacon with interest, completely unlike anything she’d ever seen before. Her hand comes to her ear, calling through to Anderson, “Normandy, the beacon is secure. Request immediate evac.”

Kaidan and Ashley walk closer to the beacon while Alexis talks to Anderson over the comms, “This is amazing. Actual working Prothean technology!” Kaidan says.

Ashley moves even closer, her face creasing with confusion. “It wasn’t doing anything like this when they dug it up.”

“Something must have activated it," Kaidan shrugs.

“Roger, Normandy. Standing by.” Alexis turns back to the beacon, watching as Ashley approaches the beacon. Suddenly, the green light intensifies, the hum becoming louder until it was the only thing any of them can hear. Ashley floats off the ground, caught in whatever field the beacon is producing. Alexis moves as fast as she can, grabbing Ashley by the waist and spinning her out of the way. Alexis takes her place.

The Commander can't stop the pull; the beacon lifts her several metres off the ground. The noise from the beacon feels like it will make her head explode, pounding in both her ears. All at once, her vision vanishes, a void of nothingness filling her perception. Images flash over her eyes, too fast and confusing to understand. A roaring sound fills her ears, alien jaws opening in her mind’s eye. Her entire body begins to convulse, any control of her muscles completely stripped away.

“Shepard!” Ashley makes to grab onto her floating superior.

Kaidan grabs her from behind, dragging her backwards, “No! Don’t touch her! We don’t need you caught as well!”

They watch in horror until Alexis gives one last convulsion, and the beacon's light suddenly goes out. As Alexis begins to fall, the glow returns, brightening until the beacon explodes, sending Alexis tumbling through the air. She hits the ground hard, sliding to a stop.

Kaidan is at her side in seconds, turning her over and trying to get a response, “Shepard! Come on, wake up! Normandy, we need immediate medical evac. Shepard is down. I repeat, Commander Shepard is down.” Alexi's eyes roll into the back of her head, her body twitching every few seconds.

Above them, the giant Geth ship takes off, accelerating out of the atmosphere and away from Eden Prime.

 

Chapter 2: II

Notes:

Chapter 2 here we go! Comments and questions are more than welcome.

Uploading today a day or two early as away this weekend.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

II

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

A sharp jolt of pain slices through Alexis's mind, a relentless, pounding throb that makes her skull feel ready to split. Darkness blurs her vision, and as her consciousness slowly surfaces, fractured images hover behind her closed eyelids—vivid, surreal, like echoes from a dream slipping just out of reach. With a groan, she pushes herself upright, hands flying instinctively to her head, seeking the familiar, reassuring barrier of her helmet, but instead, her fingers meet warm skin.

 

An icy wave of panic floods her chest, her pulse racing. She’s bare. Vulnerable. Her throat tightens as her gaze darts around the room, disoriented by the stark white walls, the sterile scent of antiseptic, and the faint hum of medical monitors. Strangers’ eyes—Kaidan’s, Ashley’s, Doctor Chakwas’s—are fixed on her with a mixture of worry and authority, grounding her slightly.

 

"Commander, please lie back down." Doctor Chakwas’s voice cuts through the haze, calm but firm. A gentle hand presses on her shoulder, guiding her back to the bed she’d barely risen from. "You’re safe. You’re on the Normandy. The room has been sterilised." Chakwas’s words are steady, but Alexis can hear the faint strain beneath them. Slowly, as though emerging from a fog, she begins to process the familiar surroundings of the medbay—but not without a lingering, prickling unease.

 

Alexis blinks, her vision sharpening as she focuses on the Doctor, trying to make sense of the fractured memories swirling in her mind. Her voice, rough and trembling, breaks the silence. “My head feels like it’s going to explode. What happened?” The absence of her helmet allows her true accent—a lilting cadence inherited from her Quarian mother—to spill out unguarded, underscoring her disorientation.

 

Beside Ashley, Kaidan steps forward, but Chakwas shoots him a look that keeps him at bay. He shifts, hands clasped in front of him, his gaze steady and concerned. “When we found the beacon,” he begins carefully, “it activated—somehow. You got too close, and it pulled you up, like you were weightless. It looked like it was going to... I thought it would kill you.” His voice lowers, thick with the gravity of the memory.

 

Ashley’s shoulders slump, her face twisting with guilt. “This is all my fault. I must’ve triggered some kind of field when I approached it. You had to push me out of the way.” She sounds almost haunted, her voice fading as she looks down, shame pooling in her eyes.

 

Alexis forces herself to focus, shaking her head slightly. “You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault,” she says softly, her words cutting through the tension. Her gaze shifts back to Chakwas. "How long was I out?"

 

“Sixteen hours,” Chakwas replies, her voice gentle but resolute. Alexis’s breath hitches—a jolt of disbelief hits her like a splash of cold water. Sixteen hours.

 

“We’re still not sure exactly what triggered it. We may never know,” Chakwas adds, with a touch of remorse, before Ashley speaks up again, her voice small but earnest. “The beacon… it just exploded. Maybe it was a system overload. You were convulsing after that, and the sedative was the only way to get you stable. The Lieutenant and I carried you back here.” Her voice trembles as she recounts the moment, her eyes clouded with lingering fear.

 

Chakwas waves Kaidan and Ashley out, her tone brisk. "They’ve been pacing outside for hours. The only reason the rest of your squad isn't here now is because I all but ordered them to give you space, and I took time to go over medical procedures with them." She says with a slight grin as she hands Alexis a small, sealed bag and motions toward a screen. “You can change into this.”

 

Alexis gratefully takes the bag, rolling off the bed and slipping behind the screen. She quickly pulls on her black and red Quarian-style bodysuit, feeling the seals engage around her, the familiar hiss and clicks calming her heart. Alexis tucks her auburn hair into the hood, snaps her mask into place, and sighs softly in relief as the air filters through, bringing her back to her centre. She’s whole again, armoured against the world.

 

"Thank you, Doctor," Alexis says as she steps back out.

 

Chakwas raises an eyebrow, a faint smile playing at her lips. “There’s no need to thank me for making my patients comfortable.” She nods toward the door. “Captain Anderson wanted to see you as soon as you woke. I won’t hold you, but you’re on light duties for the next few days. If you feel anything unusual, come straight back to me.”

 

Alexis gives her a nod of gratitude, an unspoken thanks lingering in the air as she moves toward the exit. But before she can leave, the door hisses open, and Captain Anderson steps in. Alexis straightens instinctively, snapping to attention. “Captain, I was on my way to report.”

 

Anderson’s gaze softens. “How’s our XO holding up, Doctor?”

 

Chakwas offers a nod. “She’ll be fine. No complications—so far.”

 

Anderson’s shoulders relax. “Good. Doctor, may I have a private word with Commander Shepard?”

 

Chakwas gives Alexis one last assessing glance. “Of course. And remember what I said about any strange symptoms.”

 

Alexis watches her leave, a small smile tugging at her lips as the doctor’s stern yet caring look lingers in her mind. “Understood, Doctor,” she replies, bracing herself for the conversation to come.

 

Anderson locks the door behind Chakwas, the click echoing like a tolling bell in the quiet of the medbay. He visibly deflates, a man weighed down by the gravity of command and the burdens he shares with those under his watch. Turning to Alexis, the mentor he has been for years now, comes into focus, steady and resolute. He settles into a chair opposite her, and she perches on the edge of the bed where she had awakened.

 

“Sounds like that beacon hit you pretty hard, Shepard,” he says, concern etched into the lines of his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

The shadows of anguish flit across Alexis's expression as the brutal memory of Corporal Jenkins’s demise plays in her mind like a relentless nightmare. She swallows hard, the weight of responsibility pressing down on her chest like an anchor. “I don’t like losing soldiers under my command, Anderson,” she articulates, her voice trembling, a mix of vulnerability and the hardened steel of a soldier.

 

Anderson, calm and steady, responds with a gentle conviction. “You can’t blame yourself for Jenkins. Lieutenant Alenko briefed me thoroughly. There was nothing either of you could’ve done.” His words are a lifeline, aiming to penetrate the dense fog of guilt that envelops her.

 

“Doesn’t make it any easier, sir,” she snaps, frustration coiling in her chest like a snake ready to strike. “I’ve lost soldiers before, sure…but this—this feels different. He was barely out of boot camp! And it was the Geth, for fuck’s sake!” Her voice rises, an uncontainable fury igniting the air between them, fueling the emotions that have been brewing within her. “His first proper mission! I should have recognised the signs—it had to be the Geth!”

 

Anderson meets her fiery gaze with a steady one of his own, his expression grounded in the wisdom of experience. “You can’t save everyone. You know that,” he replies, his voice a calming balm against the chaos in her mind. “And there’s no way you could’ve foreseen it was the Geth.”

 

Images of Elysium surge through her mind—flames devouring the bodies of colonists she failed to protect, their screams echoing in her ears. Sorrow pools in her eyes as she whispers, “I know, sir.” She glances toward the door, a hint of hesitation flickering across her features. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the purpose of bringing Williams on board? She isn’t part of the Normandy’s crew.”

 

Anderson shifts slightly in his chair, a glimmer of thoughtfulness sparking in his eyes. “I figured we could benefit from having a soldier like her. With her squad wiped out, there was little left for her on Eden Prime. I reassigned her to the Normandy.” His tone carries an undercurrent of reassurance as if seeking to validate the decision even to himself.

 

“Williams is a solid soldier. She deserves this opportunity,” Alexis concedes, a flicker of respect threading through her voice. Yet doubt gnaws at her insides. “Though if I’m honest, she’s a bit…misguided in her beliefs.” Anderson's brow arches slightly, curiosity piqued. “I don’t think it will interfere with any missions she joins us on.”

 

“Lieutenant Alenko shares your view regarding her skills. He personally recommended the Chief, confident you would accept it. I’m glad he wasn’t wrong,” Anderson responds, a quiet faith in Alexis’s professionalism underpinning his words, believing she can navigate any complexities arising from her heritage.

 

Frustration darkens Alexis’s features, thoughts spiralling back to the disastrous mission. “Intel dropped the ball, Anderson. We walked into that hell blind. How could they not anticipate an entire fucking army? Everything crumbled the moment we set foot on that planet.” Her voice trembles, thick with unresolved anger and sorrow that threatens to spill over.

 

“The Geth haven’t ventured outside the Veil in three centuries, Shepard. There’s no way anyone could have foreseen this,” Anderson says gently, concern lacing his voice as he seeks to ground her in the truth.

 

Alexis exhales a heavy sigh, knowing the Captain's words ring true, yet the ache in her heart persists. She presses the heel of her palms against the cool surface of her mask, attempting to sift through the troubling visions the beacon unleashed in her mind. The room is dimly lit, shadows flickering like the remnants of her shattered resolve. She shifts her gaze to Anderson, instinctively aware of the apprehensive expression on his face. “I assume this private conversation is about Nihlus?” she inquires, the weight of uncertainty hanging in the air like an impending storm.

 

Anderson’s features tighten, worry etching deep lines into his brow. “I won’t sugarcoat it, Shepard. The situation is dire. Nihlus is dead. The beacon was obliterated, and now we’re receiving reports about the Geth crossing the Veil.” He crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair as if the weight of the galaxy rests on his shoulders. “The Council is going to demand answers, and I doubt they’ll be pleased with what we can provide.”

 

“And they’ll jump to the worst conclusions,” Alexis groans, the thought sinking like lead in her chest. “There’s little hope they’ll see our actions in a positive light.”

 

“I’ll stand by whatever you choose to report, Shepard. In my eyes, you’re a damned hero." He rises from his seat, pacing restlessly across the small expanse of the room, his hands clasped firmly behind his back, exuding an air of restrained urgency. “But that’s not my main concern today.”

 

“And what is it then?” Alexis prompts, curiosity edged with concern.

 

“It’s Saren,” he replies, his gaze sharp and focused. “Lieutenant Alenko mentioned him in his report. There’s been word from some colonists—they claimed to have spotted a Turian who shot Nihlus. Saren’s a Spectre, one of the premier operatives sanctioned by the Council. He’s a living legend—a figure who gets results no matter the means. But if he’s allied with the Geth, that’s a whole different kind of threat.” He pauses, allowing the gravity of his words to settle in the tense air. “A rogue Spectre is a monumental danger. Saren is not just any operative; he poses a threat beyond measure. And he harbours a deep loathing for humans.”

 

“Are we talking about the general disdain that most Turians share for humans, or does Saren's resentment run deeper?” Alexis raises an eyebrow.

 

“Far more than the average Turian. He thinks we’re expanding too fast, taking parts of the galaxy we have no right to. He’s not shy about it. He’s made his opinions clear in public forums. Most Turians may share that sentiment, but few act on it. They don’t want another all-out war with humanity after the First Contact War.” Anderson stands at the foot of her bed, leaning on it as if for support, his expression grim. “But Saren? If what we witnessed is true, he’s allied himself with the Geth. I don’t know how or why, but I can’t think of a single thing about Eden Prime that could have drawn his interest—except for that beacon. You were there just before it self-destructed. Did you see anything? Any clue that might tell us what Saren was after?”

 

“I wasn’t just there. The damned thing exploded in my face. But…before it did, it gave me a…” Alexis hesitates, searching for words that will convey the weight of her experience. “Vision.”

 

Anderson looks both sceptical and intrigued. “A vision? A vision of what exactly?”

 

“Synthetics. In an all-out war with organics. They were slaughtering people by the millions—just butchering them for no reason,” Alexis says, her voice shaking as she clasps her hands together tightly. Memories of the stories she has been told of the Geth War and the horrors of it rise to the surface, flooding her with dread.

 

Anderson crosses his arms, his demeanour turning grave. “We need to report this to the Council, Shepard.”

 

Alexis scoffs at his response, bitterness creeping into her tone. “And tell them what exactly? That I had a bad dream? You really think they’ll believe me over one of theirs?”

 

“We don’t know what was stored in that beacon. It could be any number of things besides what you saw—lost Prothean technology, blueprints for an ancient weapon of mass destruction.” The Captain resumes his pacing, urgency creeping into his voice. “Whatever was there, Saren took it. I know Saren. I know his reputation and his politics. He believes humans are a blight on the galaxy. The attack on Eden Prime was an act of war! He has the secrets from the beacon, an army of Geth at his command, and a massive ship equipped with powerful weaponry. He won’t stop until he’s wiped humanity from the face of the galaxy!”

 

“Unless we can stop him," Alexis whispers, resolve hardening within her.

 

Anderson nods, his expression serious. “Yes, but it’s not that easy. Saren’s a Spectre. He can go anywhere and do almost anything without repercussions. That’s why we need the Council on our side.”

 

An idea sparks to life in Alexis's mind. “And the best way to do that is to prove Saren’s gone rogue. They’ll have to revoke his Spectre status!”

 

"I’ll contact the ambassador and see if he can arrange an audience with the Council. He’ll want to see us as soon as we reach the Citadel.” Anderson calls up his omni-tool, connecting to the Normandy’s intercom. “Joker. Set course for the Citadel and make it fast.”

 

“Aye, aye, sir," Joker acknowledges.

 

As the Normandy begins its travel, Alexis feels a familiar shift in the artificial gravity—a subtle but undeniable change that she’s come to recognise over her years aboard various ships. It’s a reminder of the calm before the storm brewing within her. She has faced countless challenges before, but this feels different.

 

“I’d suggest getting your armour back on, Commander. The Citadel’s not the safest place at the best of times.” With that, Anderson leaves the medbay, his footsteps echoing softly against the metal floor. Alexis remains behind, her thoughts racing, acutely aware that part of Anderson's desire for her to don her armour is not just for her protection but to be wearing an Alliance uniform.

 

Taking a deep breath, she steers her mind away from fear and uncertainty. She now has a mission—something to focus on, something to work towards, something to prove herself against. As she stands up from the bed, determination surges, ready to face whatever gets in her way.

 

Just as Alexis begins to take a few careful steps toward the door, it slides open with a low hiss, revealing Ashley standing there, her expression clouded with concern, hesitation evident in her posture.

 

Ashley stutters slightly, her voice tinged with disbelief, “Com...Commander. I wasn’t expecting to see you up so soon.”

 

A faint smile flits across Alexis's lips, a hint of warmth amidst the tension. “Yeah, well, can’t keep me down for long. Always moving forward,” she replies, the determination in her tone evident.

 

Ashley shifts uncomfortably, her gaze dropping before she manages to meet Alexis’s eyes again. “I wanted to apologise for the beacon, Commander,” she says, her voice laced with regret. “If I hadn’t been so reckless, maybe the mission wouldn’t have ended the way it did.”

 

Alexis places a gentle hand on Ashley’s shoulder, a steadying gesture meant to soothe the guilt radiating from her new crewmate. “There’s nothing to feel sorry for, Chief. The beacon would’ve grabbed anyone who got too close. The mission…it was doomed from the outset. We had no intel on the Geth. There was nothing you could have done to change that.”

 

Ashley’s shoulders sag slightly in relief, her face softening as a glimmer of hope breaks through the cloud of remorse. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Commander. The crew could use some good news after…” She falters, swallowing hard, “After what happened to Jenkins.”

 

The mention of Jenkins casts a shadow across Alexis’s features, the memory of his last moments still raw. “Jenkins was a well-liked part of the crew. He’ll be sorely missed.”

 

Ashley hesitates, clearly wrestling with something deeper. “Part of me feels guilty about being here,” she admits quietly. “If Jenkins were still alive, I probably wouldn’t have this spot on the Normandy.”

 

Alexis’s gaze hardens, her voice firm yet gentle. “You’re here because you’re a good soldier, Williams. You earned your place, not because of anyone else’s fate.” Her words resonate with conviction, a reminder to herself as much as to Ashley that each life lost has its own story, and those who remain must honour them by moving forward.

 

“Thanks, Commander. I appreciate that.” A genuine smile breaks through Ashley’s sombre expression, a glimpse of the fire that’s kept her standing through countless battles.

 

“Speaking of the mission, it got pretty rough out there. You holding up okay?” Alexis inquires, studying her with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

 

Ashley shifts, her gaze momentarily distant. “I’ve seen friends die before, Commander. But civilians…it’s different. That kind of devastation…it sticks with you.” Her voice falters, then steadies. “If you hadn’t arrived when you did, it would’ve been a massacre.”

 

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Chief,” Alexis affirms with a nod, a shared camaraderie emanating from her words.

 

Ashley’s expression lightens further. “Truth be told, I was a bit worried when I heard about my reassignment. It’s good to feel like I’m welcome here,” she says, the unease that lingered in her voice finally giving way to relief.

 

Alexis nods her own memories of finding acceptance in strange places flitting through her mind. She begins to turn away but pauses, a slight smile playing on her lips. “And Williams?”

 

Ashley looks up, her brow arched in curiosity. “Yes, Commander?”

 

“Call me Shepard. Being addressed as Commander all the time makes me feel like a robot,” Alexis says with a playful smile.

 

A surprised laugh escapes Ashley, the sound breaking through the lingering tension in the air. “Sure thing…Shepard.”

 

With spirits slightly lifted, Alexis strides down the corridor, the subtle hum of the Normandy’s systems underscoring the familiar rhythm of her footsteps. She catches sight of Kaidan leaning against the wall, offering him a brief nod before heading to the elevator, the anticipation of the Citadel meeting simmering just below the surface.

 

Just as she steps into the lift and the doors begin to close, a hand halts them with a soft ding. Doctor Chakwas steps inside, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, her expression carrying a hint of both amusement and exasperation. “I hope you’re not planning to do what I think you’re going to do, Commander,” she says, her tone a mix of reproach and knowing fondness.

 

Alexis’s mouth twitches into a sheepish smile. “Of course not, Doctor. I always listen to medical advice,” she replies, though the mischief in her voice is unmistakable.

 

Chakwas chuckles, the sound warm and familiar. “Oh? I seem to recall a certain incident after the Skyllian Blitz when I practically had to wrestle you out of the training room.” Her eyes gleam with a mixture of nostalgia and bemusement.

 

Alexis raises a hand in mock surrender, then lets it drop with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll take it easy…more or less. Anderson wants me to suit up for the Citadel anyway.”

 

With a satisfied nod, Chakwas steps to the side. “Excellent. I’ll accompany you, just to make sure you don’t ‘take it easy’ by hopping into combat drills.”

 

Alexis tries to deflect, her tone light. “Oh, there’s no need for that. Joker could probably use your expertise on the bridge—”

 

“Jeff can survive a few minutes without me,” Chakwas replies, her smirk unwavering. “Besides, someone has to keep an eye on the Normandy’s most stubborn patient.”

 

The elevator hums as it descends, the silence between them filled with an unspoken respect. Chakwas looks her over with motherly scrutiny, a quiet pride in her gaze that Alexis has come to appreciate more than she’d ever admit to the older woman.

 

The elevator doors slide open, and Alexis steps onto the deck, boots clicking with a steady, rhythmic confidence against the polished metal floor. Her gaze locks onto her armour—black and red plates piled on the table, gleaming under the cool lights. Each piece seems to pulse with an energy of its own, calling her back to duty.

 

With a slow, measured breath, she approaches her armour, letting her fingers hover over the familiar contours. The rough, scarred edges speak of countless battles. Each mark, each scratch, is a testament to her resilience, her grit, and the life she's chosen to lead. She begins assembling her armour with a methodical grace, fastening each piece with a quiet focus. Every snap and click is like the steady beat of a drum, grounding her and preparing her for what lies ahead. The weight settles onto her shoulders and chest, and with it, a strange calm. The armour isn’t just gear; it’s an extension of herself, a shield between her and the chaos that waits beyond.

 

Doctor Chakwas stands nearby, arms crossed and watching her with a faint smile—a mixture of pride and amusement. “Still ready to throw yourself into the thick of it, I see,” she remarks, her tone soft yet edged with a motherly reprimand.

 

Alexis pauses, glancing over her shoulder, a flicker of something unguarded in her eyes. “It’s not just about the battles, Doctor,” she admits, her voice barely above a murmur. “This armour…it’s a reminder. Of where I come from, of everything that’s happened.” She runs a hand along the smooth, curved surface of her helmet. “Sometimes, it feels like the only thing that keeps me grounded. Without it… maybe I’d drift.”

 

Chakwas’s expression softens, her eyes filled with a deep, quiet understanding. She steps closer, her voice gentle yet resolute. “Armour can be more than a physical shield. For some of us, it’s a way to remember who we are, a symbol of the strength we carry for ourselves—and for others.” She pauses, resting a hand lightly on Alexis’s shoulder, the warmth of the gesture grounding them both. “But remember, Commander: strength doesn’t always mean armour. Sometimes, it’s letting yourself be vulnerable. You have a crew here who stands by you.”

 

Alexis holds Chakwas’s gaze, a glimmer of gratitude passing between them. For a moment, the weight she carries feels a little lighter, like maybe she isn’t holding it alone. With a slow nod, she finishes strapping on her armour, securing her helmet at her side. Her expression hardens with renewed determination.

 

As she heads to the command deck, the steady thrum of her boots echoes her resolve. Chakwas watches her go, a small smile on her lips, feeling a sense of pride in the steadfast woman who carries both armour and spirit with equal grace.

 

As Alexis strides through the CIC, the low hum of the Normandy fills her ears, grounding her as she approaches the cockpit. The gleaming panels, the steady hum of the engines—it’s all familiar, yet today feels heavier, like every step presses her deeper into the ship's heartbeat. When she reaches the cockpit, Joker glances up from his console, his usual smirk briefly faltering as he catches the weariness shadowing her eyes. Quietly, he seals the cockpit doors, enclosing them in the familiar hum of the Normandy’s systems—a private space amidst the vast, cold emptiness of space.

 

“Rough mission, huh?” he asks, his tone uncharacteristically soft as he studies her, concern etched across his face.

 

Alexis sinks into the seat beside him, tapping her fingers absently against her thigh, the metallic clinks breaking the silence. She sighs, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s one way to put it.” Her eyes drift to the controls, searching for something to anchor herself in the routine of the Normandy’s hum, the way it grounds her.

 

Joker leans back, his gaze never wavering. “Then we’ll just have to stick it to Saren when we catch up with him,” he says, a glint of fierce determination flashing in his eyes as he tries to counter her doubt with his own confidence.

 

But Alexis shakes her head, her voice low and defeated. “How am I supposed to do that, Joker? He’s a Spectre. I’m just a random soldier. He commands an entire army of Geth and wields the biggest ship I’ve ever seen. I can’t win against that,” The weight of the mission seems to press down on her shoulders, fatigue settling into her bones.

 

In response, Joker reaches over and lightly smacks her armoured shoulder, a sharp sound in the silence. She tenses, ready to throw a playful jab back, but he cuts her off with a smirk. “Really? You’re gonna talk like that?” He shakes his head. “Commander ‘Fuck it, I’ll take on an army by myself’, Shepard, doubting herself? That’s rich. Listen, if anyone can take down that Turian bastard, it’s you. And let’s not forget, you’ve got the best damn pilot in the Alliance to get you there.”

 

A small grin breaks through her frown, and she meets his gaze, that familiar spark of confidence flickering to life. “Look at you, turning a pep talk for me into bragging for you,” she teases, savouring the comfort of their banter.

 

“Hey, I call it like I see it. You’re some insane commando, and I’m, well, incredible.” He grins, and the familiar banter eases some of the tension coiled in her chest.

 

She nods, glancing out the cockpit window as the stars streak by, a blur of blue and silver. “I’m just angry. The Geth ambushed us, we lost the beacon, Jenkins… and I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.”

 

“And sitting here beating yourself up? What’s that gonna do?” Joker’s tone is gentle but firm, nudging her out of her spiralling thoughts.

 

“Let me vent a little,” she mutters, managing a shrug. “You’re the one who complains non-stop. Thought I’d give it a shot.”

 

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Fair point. But unlike me, you don’t have some rare condition holding you back.” His smirk reappears, a glimmer of humour peeking through.

 

Alexis laughs, the sound brightening the cockpit’s dim glow. “Touché. Deliberately throwing myself into every firefight doesn’t count, I suppose.” She rises from her seat, patting his shoulder gently, mindful of her armoured gauntlet. “Thanks, Joker. How long till we’re at the Citadel?”

 

“You've come at the perfect time, actually. Should be dropping out of FTL any second now.” As if on cue, the star field outside shifts, the kaleidoscope of colours settling back into the natural hues of space, revealing the majestic sight of the Citadel. The massive station appears almost ethereal, its four arms protruding gracefully amid the swirling purple gases of the nebula that surrounds it. “That view never gets old.”

 

“Bring us in. Anderson wants us to meet the Council ASAP," Alexis commands, slipping back into the authoritative tone of Commander Shepard, her natural accent fading away to be replaced with a more human-sounding one.

 

“Alright, Commander,” Joker says, his fingers moving deftly over the controls. “Citadel Control, this is the SSV Normandy, requesting permission to dock.”

 

A crisp, Turian voice crackles through the comms. “Normandy, stand by for clearance.” A tense pause follows, heightening their anticipation. “Clearance granted. You may begin your approach. Transferring you to an Alliance operator.”

 

“Roger, Citadel Tower, Normandy out,” Joker acknowledges, his focus shifting back to piloting as he manoeuvres the Normandy closer to the colossal station.

 

A human voice crackles through the comms, clear and commanding. “Normandy, this is Alliance Tower. Please proceed to Dock 422.”

 

“Roger that,” Joker replies, focusing on the navigation. Just as Alexis moves to leave, he glances over, his grin fading into something gentler, more serious. “Hey… give the Council hell from me, alright?”

 

She looks back, a wry smile forming. “I’ll make sure to break a bone at them for you.”

 

“You’re damn right you will,” Joker laughs, the sound of their camaraderie lingering in the air as Alexis prepares to face the Council.

 

The Normandy has been docked for hours, and Alexis’s impatience only grows as the seemingly endless bureaucratic procedures tick by. She paces by the airlock, her armoured boots striking the metal floor in rhythmic agitation; the anticipation thrums under her skin. Her last trip to the Citadel was years ago—and far too recent, in her opinion. But as much as she wants to avoid it, she knows that Anderson is right. They have to get this business done fast, preferably before Udina’s scheming leaves a bad taste in her mouth. With any luck, Anderson might be open to granting some shore leave after. Alexis has already scoped out a few shipyards and Quarian market stalls she is eager to visit.

 

Finally, when clearance is granted, she files in behind Anderson, her boots falling into step with the soft thud of Ashley and Kaidan’s. The familiar hallways of the Citadel greet her as they move through the crowded corridors, eventually arriving at the human embassy. The moment they step inside, the sound of raised voices echoes through the corridor, Udina’s strident tone immediately recognisable.

 

“This is an outrage!” Udina is practically shouting at the holographic forms of the Councilors. “The Council would step in if the Geth had attacked a Turian colony!”

 

The Salarian Councilor responds, his voice laced with an exasperated bite, “The Turians don’t establish colonies on the borders of the Terminus Systems, Ambassador.”

 

The Asari Councilor doesn’t miss a beat, joining in with a steely calm that only seems to amplify Udina’s frustration. “Humanity was well aware of the risks when you ventured into the Traverse.”

 

Alexis feels her jaw clench, her pulse quickening. The Council is just as dismissive as she’d expected. Saren is one of their own—of course, they won’t believe he’s a traitor. If she’s going to get anywhere with them, she’ll need evidence, undeniable proof. But that doesn't make Udina’s next outburst any less of a gamble.

 

“What about Saren?! You can’t just ignore a rogue Spectre! I demand action!”

 

The Turian Councilor’s eyes narrow. “You don’t get to make demands of the Council, Ambassador.”

 

Alexis watches as the Turian’s cold stare all but freezes Udina in place. The Asari steps in smoothly, her voice silencing any retort. “Citadel Security is investigating your charges against Saren. We will review their findings at the hearing. Not before.” With a decisive click, the holograms fade, leaving the ambassador deflated and visibly aggravated.

 

Udina sighs, rubbing at his temples. When he turns, his gaze falls on the team assembled behind him. He doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Captain Anderson. I see you’ve brought half your crew with you.”

 

Anderson’s jaw clenches, just as clearly unimpressed with Udina as Alexis is. “Just the ground team from Eden Prime, in case you have any questions.”

 

“I have the mission reports. I assume they’re accurate?” Udina’s tone is clipped, almost accusatory, and it takes every ounce of discipline for Alexis to bite her tongue.

 

“They are. The Council has agreed to an audience, then?” Anderson’s voice is strained but respectful.

 

Udina grimaces. “Reluctantly. Saren’s their top agent; they don’t like him being accused of treason.”

 

Alexis’s patience snaps. “Of course they don’t,” she mutters, fists clenched. “But if they don’t act, then I will. I’ll hunt down Saren myself if I have to.”

 

Udina fixes her with a withering stare. “Control yourself, Commander. You’ve already done more than enough to jeopardise humanity’s standing with the Council. Eden Prime was your chance to prove your worth as a Spectre candidate. Instead, the beacon’s destroyed, and a Turian Spectre is dead!”

 

Anderson steps forward, his voice defensive. “That was Saren’s doing, not hers.”

 

Udina’s gaze sharpens, and he folds his arms as though savouring his own authority. “Then let’s hope the C-Sec investigation turns up evidence. If not, this incident will do more than ruin humanity's chances with the Spectres. It could damage our entire relationship with the Council.” His tone drips with cold disdain as he turns back to Anderson. “Come with me, Captain. There are a few things we need to discuss before the hearing. Shepard, take your team to the Citadel Tower. I’ll make sure you’re granted access.”

 

As Udina strides out with Anderson, Alexis lets out a slow breath, her frustration simmering. "Ax’kah," she mutters under her breath, a Quarian curse slipping out. The impending meeting with the Council suddenly feels even more futile.

 

Ashley sidles up beside her, her tone dry. “And that, Commander, is why I hate politicians.”

 

Alexis chuckles, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. “You’re not alone. I swear, if Udina says one more thing, I might just punch him."

 

Ashley grins, flexing her knuckles. “Want backup? I’ll hold him still. We can take turns.”

 

Kaidan’s pointed cough draws their attention. “We should probably get moving. We’ve got a little time, but…better to be early to a Council meeting than late.”

 

Alexis rolls her eyes but nods. “You’re right, Lieutenant. But before we go, I want to check in with C-Sec. Let’s see what they have on Saren.” She brings up the directions on her Omni-tool, and her fingers hover over the map, her eyes flashing purposefully.

 

“Just in case the Council conveniently missed any… damning details,” she adds, her voice hard with determination as they make their way out.

 

Alexis taps her foot impatiently in the elevator ascending to the Council Chambers; the rhythmic sound echoes her frustration. Their recent trip to C-Sec headquarters was a dead end; none of the officers were willing to divulge information about their investigation into Saren. The officer in charge wasn't there, still chasing elusive leads that may or may not exist. A tight knot of anxiety twists in her stomach as she envisions the upcoming meeting with the Council. They have so little evidence to substantiate Saren’s guilt, and the vision granted by the Prothean Beacon was hardly solid proof—more an unsettling whisper of danger than a clear warning.

 

The lift doors open to reveal the Council Chamber’s atrium, a vast and imposing space with a towering ceiling stretching far above. The ambient hum of conversation reverberates in the air, but the atmosphere feels charged with tension. At the top of the grand staircase, two Turians are locked in a heated argument, their voices rising above the ambient noise.

 

“-barely enough time to solve a robbery, let alone a charge of treason!” The younger Turian, clad in dark blue armour, is clearly straining to maintain his composure, frustration etched across his features. “Saren’s hiding something! Give me more time! Stall them if you have to!”

 

The elder Turian scoffs dismissively, his stance rigid. “Stall the Council? Don’t be ridiculous! Your investigation is over, Garrus. I am ordering you to drop this.” With that, he pivots sharply, striding away, leaving the younger Turian fuming in his wake.

 

Alexis’s heart races with unexpected hope. By some stroke of fortune, she has stumbled upon the very officer she’d been searching for. The younger Turian, Garrus, looks up as she approaches, recognition sparking in his eyes. “Commander Shepard,” he said, his voice steadying, “Garrus Vakarian. I was the officer in charge of the C-Sec investigation into Saren.”

 

“Doesn’t sound like you got very far,” she replies, stepping closer, her voice low and conspiratorial.

 

“Two days isn’t exactly enough time to gather evidence against someone like Saren,” he counters, crossing his arms as he clicks his mandibles in frustration. “Everything he touches is classified in one way or another. But…” He leans in, lowering his voice, “Something about him rubs me the wrong way. I don’t trust him for one second. I was close to uncovering something significant, but now—”

 

“But?” Alexis presses, intrigued by the hint of defiance in his tone.

 

Garrus’s expression shifts into something akin to determination. “I had a lead that could’ve proven his guilt, but without more time, I doubt I’ll get the chance to follow it through.”

 

As he begins to walk away, Alexis calls after him, “Where are you going?”

 

“I think you can guess that, Commander,” he replies, glancing back over his shoulder, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

 

Just then, the lift doors open before him, revealing Captain Anderson and Ambassador Udina, who pushes past Garrus with urgency. As the elevator begins to close, Alexis catches Garrus’s wink, a fleeting connection sparking between them.

 

Udina immediately turns to her, his expression severe. “You better be ready, Shepard; we are this close to securing a Human on the Council.” Alexis feels a rush of disdain at his words. Ever since meeting the man, she had found him insufferable, masquerading as a champion for Humanity while advancing his own ambitions. She wouldn’t put it past him to sabotage their chances just to elevate his own standing.

 

“I’m ready,” she declares, though her confidence wavers as she stumbles on the next step. Udina whirls around, jabbing a finger against her helmet.

 

“I need you focused. Do not make me look bad in front of the Council,” he insists, his voice a harsh whisper.

 

Alexis’s instincts flare with anger; she nearly grabs his finger to snap it in half. Thankfully, Anderson steps in, his presence a calming force. “Don’t worry, Udina. I’ll make sure the Commander is ready. Go on up and start. We’ll join you shortly.”

 

“See that you do, Captain,” Udina replies, his tone clipped as he ascends the stairs further into the Council Chamber. “Humanity needs this. If Shepard becomes a Spectre, we’re one step closer to having a Human voice in the Council.”

 

As Udina walks away, Alexis huffs in irritation, crossing her arms. “Is it just me, or is he trying to be infuriating?”

 

Anderson steps into her line of sight, his brow furrowed. “This isn’t a game, Shepard. This is the Citadel Council. I need you at your best when we go in there. Doctor Chakwas cleared you, but I need to be certain. Are you ready for this? Udina had to pull a lot of strings to secure a meeting this quickly.”

 

“I know the stakes, captain. I won’t let you down.” Her voice is steady, not wanting to fail her Captain.

 

“Good. Let’s get in there before Udina yells at us both.” They make it halfway across the atrium before Anderson leans closer and whispers, “And yes, I think he does try.” Alexis stifles a laugh, quickly arranging her expression into a mask of determination as they approach the walkway leading to where Udina stood, engaged in a tense discussion with the Council.

 

The Turian Councillor greets her coolly, his tone like ice over steel. “Commander Shepard. Glad to see you’re all right.” His eyes narrow, the calculating gleam of suspicion unmistakable even across the chamber. “That said, Nihlus is dead. The Spectre who personally vouched for your… abilities. And the Prothean Beacon you were sent to recover was destroyed—by Human hands if I understand correctly. Now, we have your report claiming the Geth invaded Eden Prime.” He leans forward, pressing his talons against the console, a low scowl darkening his already stern face. “It seems everything that could have gone wrong with this mission did.”

 

Alexis can feel her jaw tightening beneath her helmet, but she holds herself steady. Behind her visor, she watches his piercing gaze flick between her and Udina, judging, questioning. He already seems to have reached a verdict.

 

The Asari Councillor chimes in, her voice smooth and almost disconcertingly calm. “The Geth attack is… troubling. They haven’t been seen outside the Veil in nearly three centuries. If your story is true, there may be reason for concern.”

 

“But as for the charge of treason against Saren…” The Turian Councillor gestures dismissively at the hologram of Saren hovering at the side of the room, his imposing figure cast in cold blue light. Saren’s expression is stony, a hint of annoyance flashing across his angular face. “The C-Sec investigation against him has yielded absolutely no evidence. Your accusation seems to be based on—nothing. There is no proof Saren was involved in the Geth attack.”

 

Alexis feels her temper flare, hot and insistent, as she fights the urge to bite back at them. They’re willfully blind, clinging to their Spectre’s spotless record even as the stench of his deceit fills the room. Before she can say anything, Udina steps forward, voice sharp and unyielding. “Shepard and her team heard the gunshot! They have eyewitness reports of both the murder and Saren fleeing the scene!”

 

The Salarian Councillor scrolls through a datapad with a detached, clinical expression before he looks up. “We’ve reviewed the report, Ambassador Udina. The witness saw a Turian matching Saren’s description. But the testimony of one traumatised dockworker is hardly enough to convict.”

 

Saren’s hologram crosses his arms, his lip curling as he speaks. “I resent these baseless accusations. Nihlus was a fellow Spectre. He was a friend.”

 

Anderson steps forward, bristling. His fist strikes the podium as he cuts in. “Which is exactly why Nihlus let his guard down!” Udina gives Anderson a sharp glare from the corner of his eye, but the Captain barely notices, his gaze locked on Saren.

 

Saren’s tone is mockingly cold as he turns his attention to Anderson. “Captain Anderson. You always seem to be involved when Humanity makes false charges against me.” His gaze shifts to Alexis, his eyes narrowing. “And this must be your protégé, Commander Shepard. Wasn’t destroying the beacon enough, Commander? Do you have to drag me down with you as well?”

 

Alexis can’t hold back anymore. “You’re the one who destroyed the beacon, and you framed me for it!” Her voice is tense, each word edged with barely restrained fury.

 

Saren chuckles, a low, condescending sound that grates against her nerves. “Ah, shifting blame. Just like Anderson taught you.”

 

“I’ll teach you with a—”

 

“Learn your place in the galaxy, Human,” he cuts her off, his voice dripping with scorn. “You’re not ready for the Council, and your race isn’t ready for the Spectres.”

 

Udina, his patience gone, snaps at him. “He has no right to make that judgment. It is not his decision!”

 

The Asari Councillor speaks up, her voice as even and diplomatic as ever. “Commander Shepard’s admission to the Spectres is not the purpose of this meeting, Saren. You would do well to remember that.”

 

Saren raises his hands in a show of mock exasperation. “This meeting has no purpose! The Humans are wasting your time, Councillor, as well as mine!”

 

Anderson slams his fist into the podium, half shouting. “You can’t hide behind the Council forever. And we haven’t even addressed the Commander’s vision caused by the beacon!”

 

Alexis’s stomach twists. She hadn’t expected him to bring up the vision. It was barely coherent, fragmented and hazy, but it felt like a glimpse of something dreadful. The very mention of it now makes her uneasy. It’s not evidence—certainly not enough to stand up to Saren’s twisted version of events.

 

Saren’s laugh echoes, full of derision. “Are we considering dreams as evidence now? Perhaps I should simply declare myself innocent and be done with it!” He glares at the Council, contempt oozing from his every word. “How can I defend myself against these kinds of claims?”

 

The Turian Councillor nods. “I agree. Our decision needs to be based on facts and evidence, not on wild imaginings and speculation.”

 

“Do you have anything else to add, Commander Shepard?” the Salarian Councillor asks, though it feels more like a formality than a genuine invitation. She can see in his eyes that nothing she says now will sway them.

 

Through clenched teeth, she mutters, “No, Councillor.” She tries to keep her voice steady, but the surge of frustration breaks through. She can only hope her helmet muffles enough of it.

 

The Asari Councillor’s voice is smooth, almost sympathetic, as she delivers the Council’s decision. “The Council has found no evidence of any connection between Saren and the Geth, nor of his involvement in Nihlus’s death. Ambassador, your request to disbar him from the Spectres is denied. While Nihlus’s loss is tragic, it appears Commander Shepard did all she could to protect the beacon.”

 

Saren’s hologram glares coldly at Alexis one last time. “Glad to see justice has been served.” With that, his image vanishes.

 

For a moment, Alexis stands there, forcing herself to breathe. The humiliation burns through her. She wants to fight, to shout, but she knows it will only play into Saren’s hands. So she turns, descending the steps to find Anderson and Udina arguing once again.

 

“It was a mistake bringing you in there, Anderson,” Udina hisses, his face twisted in frustration. “Your history with Saren made the Council doubt our motives.”

 

Anderson’s jaw tightens, his voice hard as steel. “Saren is a Spectre—one of the best. There’s only one reason he’d turn on us.” He takes a deep breath, the anger flashing in his eyes. “To wipe Humanity from the galaxy. And with the Geth, he could do it.” Udina rolls his eyes, about to argue, but Anderson continues. “Whatever he saw in that beacon, he’ll use it against us. Every Human colony, every world we control, is at risk—even Earth.”

 

“Even if that’s true, we can’t do anything without hard evidence,” Udina replies, exasperated. “We need something to expose him.”

 

Anderson considers this, and then his eyes spark with an idea. “There’s a C-Sec officer, the one who was leading the investigation into Saren. He might know something.”

 

Alexis nods. “I ran into him earlier—Garrus. He had a lead but ran out of time. C-Sec’s stonewalling us, though, and we have no leverage to get them to cooperate.”

 

Udina sighs, a reluctant smirk crossing his face. “There might be one way. A C-Sec contact, Harkin.”

 

Anderson scoffs. “Harkin? That drunk? He was suspended last month for drinking on the job. I won’t waste my time with him.”

 

“Then Shepard will handle it,” Udina says curtly, cutting off Anderson’s objections. “I won’t risk the Council thinking your history with Saren is biasing us. Shepard can manage this.”

 

Alexis steps forward. “You can’t just cut Captain Anderson out of this investigation.”

 

But Anderson raises a hand. “The Ambassador’s right. I’ll only get in the way.”

 

After a final look between them, Udina nods, muttering something about meeting Anderson in his office. As he walks off, Alexis watches him go, her mind already turning over their next steps. If Garrus was onto something, Harkin might be their only lead to getting him to talk.

 

She turns to Anderson, who nods grimly. “If Harkin’s our only way to Garrus, so be it. You’ll probably find him getting drunk in Chora’s Den—a sleazy dive in the lower wards.”

 

She salutes Anderson, already planning her approach as she heads toward the elevator. The Council had failed her, but maybe, in the underbelly of the Citadel, she could find what she needed to prove Saren’s guilt. As she rides the lift down, she keeps trying to think why the name Harkin rings a bell for her, putting it out of her mind as they reach the lower wards.

 

The lower sections of the Citadel always have a certain feel about them. The polished floors and soaring views of the Presidium feel worlds away from these shadowy corridors, where danger isn't something you see but feel, lurking around every corner. Every passerby has an air of guarded indifference, and there is a suspicious glint in almost every eye. Even if it isn't her life at risk here, it is at least her wallet. Street vendors line the alleys, some calling out their wares and others eyeing Alexis and her crew with a look that said they’d seen everything—and weren’t about to be impressed.

 

Here, among the maze of cheap shops, neon signs, and winding paths, Alexis feels more at home. It is a relief after the gleaming facade of the elite Presidium. She might not fit in with the Citadel’s upper class, but down here, where the real people lived and worked, she knows how things work. She’d grown up running through streets like these, understanding the hustle and mistrust like an instinct.

 

As she rounds the final corner to Chora’s Den, she catches sight of the club’s glaring red lights when, suddenly, a figure leaps into her path.

 

“Oh. My. God!” the man gasps. His eyes widen with an unsettling mix of awe and frenzy, and Alexis instinctively takes a step back, her hand drifting towards her pistol as he practically vibrates with excitement.

 

“Uh… hi,” Alexis says, her voice low, wary. She takes in his eager grin, his wide eyes that seemed a little too bright. The man looks starstruck—and desperate.

 

“You’re Commander Shepard! The hero of Eden Prime! I’m so honoured to meet you!” He barely pauses to breathe; his words spill out like water from a broken pipe. People nearby are starting to stare. “Is it true? They said you took down hundreds of Geth on Eden Prime! That’s got to be an understatement, right?”

 

She feels her grip on her gun ease, though her eyes stay sharp. “Nice to meet you, too… and you are?” She raises an eyebrow, her tone cool, even though she can already sense Kaidan and Ashley lurking behind her, barely containing their amusement. Random civilians jumping into her path doesn't usually lead anywhere good, especially down here.

 

“Conrad! Conrad Verner!” He puffs up as if the name alone should mean something to her. “I’m your biggest fan! Ever since I heard about what you did… I mean, what don’t they say about you?” His words come out so fast they trip over each other, his face flushed.

 

“I was just trying to complete my mission,” Alexis says, shifting her weight slightly as she glances sidelong at her teammates, who are now openly watching with entertained smirks. “Anyone else in my place would’ve done the same.”

 

“Humble, too! You really are the best!” Conrad looks as though he’d just seen a god descend to the wards. He clears his throat, his face turning redder. “Hey… um… I know you’re really busy, but would you… could you… maybe… sign this?”

 

He holds up a datapad with shaking hands, nearly dropping it in his eagerness. Alexis suppresses a sigh, her resolve softening as she looks into his hopeful eyes. Just get it over with, she tells herself. She can practically feel Kaidan and Ashley’s grins behind her.

 

“Fine,” she mutters, trying not to make eye contact with her amused teammates. She quickly scrawls her name, handing the datapad back before he can get too comfortable.

 

“Wow! Thank you! I really appreciate it. My wife is going to be so impressed!” He looks as if he might explode with excitement, his voice cracking with barely contained glee. “And if you’re ever on Earth, let me buy you a drink!”

 

“Uh, sure,” Alexis manages, giving him a tight nod as he finally turns and walks away, still buzzing with awe. She shook her head, momentarily stunned by the encounter.

 

“Somehow…” She exhales, letting the tension out of her shoulders. “You know what, I don’t even want to think about it.” She pushes forward, nodding toward the entrance of Chora’s Den. “Let’s never talk about this again.”

 

“Don’t worry, Shepard,” Ashley quips as they resume their pace, her voice tinged with mischief. “Once you’re a Spectre, you’ll have too many fans to know what to do with.”

 

Alexis groans. “I think you just described one of my nightmares, Williams.”

 

The door to Chora’s Den looms ahead, flanked by two enormous Krogan bouncers who don't so much as flinch as Alexis, Kaidan, and Ashley approach. Their impassive eyes linger only briefly over the Alliance insignia on Alexis’s armour before returning to their stoic positions. Something about the lack of scrutiny makes her uneasy—letting three heavily armed people into a club, even with respectable intentions, was a disaster waiting to happen. She knew enough from growing up in places like this: a quick temper and a loaded gun could unravel a place in seconds.

 

A short walkway leads to the entrance, and the pulsing bass of the club's music grows louder with each step, a thrum that seems to vibrate straight through her chest. When the doors open, the volume skyrockets. Alexis’s eardrums protest until she taps a control on her helmet to muffle the sound, grateful as the deafening beats soften to a dull roar.

 

The interior is dimly lit, the air thick with a mixture of stale alcohol, sweat, and faint hints of ozone from the nearby security fields. In the centre of the room, the bar sprawles in a circular formation, and patrons pack in tightly around it. The flickering neon lights cast a constant swirl of red and blue across the patrons, many of whom are absorbed in their drinks or watching the tables along the outer walls, sizing each other up or just relaxing. Alexis scans the room; her gaze briefly drifts upwards. Several Asari, dressed in tantalising little, dance on poles above the bar, their movements languid and magnetic. Alexis quickly snaps her head back down, resisting the distraction.

 

“I need to see a guy named Harkin. You know where I can find him?” Alexis asks one of the bartenders, a dark-blue-skinned Asari who looks like she'd rather be anywhere else.

 

The bartender rolls her eyes. “He’s here every day. Damn, creepy if you ask me. Just lucky he’s not C-Sec anymore—couldn’t get away with the shit he used to.” She points to a table on the far side of the room, her voice flat. “He’s over there. If you could get him to fuck off for a few hours, that’d be great.”

 

Nodding her thanks, Alexis motions to Kaidan and Ashley as they weave their way through the crowd. She sees him even before they reach his table—a balding, middle-aged man with a telltale scar across the bridge of his nose, the faded C-Sec uniform clinging to him like a poor memory. He leers at nearly every woman that passes, his eyes lingering in a way that sets Alexis’s teeth on edge. She takes a steadying breath as she reaches his table, stepping in front of him to block his view of the bar.

 

Harkin’s eyes travel up her frame, lingering far too long at her chest before he grins, smug and unabashed. “Alliance military, huh? I could’ve been a marine, you know,” he slurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Instead, I joined the fucking Citadel Security. Worst mistake of my life.” He leans back, his leer deepening. “Maybe you could make me feel better about it?”

 

Alexis narrows her eyes, her tone ice-cold. “Harkin, the only thing I’m going to make you feel better about is me not knocking your teeth out.” She watches his smirk falter slightly, his eyes widening as her words settle in. She leans forward, letting the threat sink in. “Now, I was told you could help me find someone. A Turian C-Sec officer named Garrus.”

 

He tries to regain his swagger, crossing his arms in a mockery of confidence. “Garrus? You must be one of Captain Anderson’s crew. Heard you guys ran into some trouble with Saren. Poor bastard’s been trying to bring that Turian down for years.” A nasty, self-satisfied smirk creeps back onto his face. “I know where Garrus is. I could tell you...for a price.”

 

Alexis has had enough. Before he can blink, she grabs him by the shirt, yanking him out of his seat and slamming him against the wall; the impact rattles glasses on the nearby tables. His eyes widen, the haze of alcohol clearing just a bit as she holds him pinned.

 

“You’re going to tell me where Garrus is, and you’re going to tell me now,” she says, her voice a low, dangerous murmur. “Unless you want a refresher on how it feels to get your nose broken by a suit rat—only this time, I’m a lot bigger.”

 

Harkin’s bravado drains instantly, his face paling at the memory. “Alright, alright! No need to get rough,” he stammers, holding his hands up in surrender. “Garrus was sniffing around Dr. Michel’s office. She runs a clinic on the other side of the wards. Last I heard, he was heading back there.”

 

Alexis releases him, and he slides back into his seat, his composure gone. She leans down, her visor an inch from his face, her voice sharp. “And do me a favour. Get out of here. No one needs your sorry ass leering at them all day.”

 

Without waiting for a response, she turns on her heel, eager to escape the club’s stifling atmosphere. But as she moves toward the exit, she stops in her tracks, her gaze locking on a scene near the back of the room. A massive Krogan in dark red armour is looming over a smaller Krogan, his thick shoulders tense, his voice a low growl.

 

“Fuck off, Wrex. Fist isn’t seeing anyone,” the smaller Krogan sneers.

 

“Isn’t seeing anyone?” The larger Krogan—Wrex, apparently—lets out a derisive laugh, his voice carrying easily over the thudding music. “And how are you two runts going to stop me? You know I always get what I want.”

 

The smaller Krogan puffs up, his tone defiant. “You don’t want to start this. Get out before we make a bloody mess on the floor.”

 

Wrex’s laughter booms, cutting through the noise around them. “Ha! That’ll be the day.” He turns and makes for the exit, casting a sidelong glance at Alexis as he passes. There is a sharpness in his eyes, a sense of barely contained violence, but it was controlled and disciplined. She watches him go, a sense of both respect and wariness settling over her—this was a man who would be either a powerful ally or a formidable enemy.

 

Alexis taps her helmet as soon as they are outside, adjusting her audio receptors back to normal.

 

“So... Commander Shepard broke a C-Sec officer’s nose as a child?” Ashley asks, eyebrow raised, a smirk playing on her lips.

 

“Maybe... and if I did, it was for a very good reason,” Alexis replies, shooting Ashley a look as she tries to steer the conversation back to the mission. “Let’s go find Garrus.”

 

Kaidan and Ashley exchange grins behind her back as they walk, clearly planning to bring this up every chance they get.

 

They rapidly weave through the bustling wards, dodging the insistent salespeople hawking everything from dubious medications to low-quality tech. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and grease, mingling with the electric buzz of commerce. A sense of urgency quickens her pace as Alexis spots a small sign pointing towards the clinic.

 

Suddenly, the sound of shouting echoes down the short corridor, sharp and frantic. All three Alliance soldiers instinctively pull their weapons, and the familiar weight of their guns comforts them in the chaos. Alexis motions for silence, adrenaline surging as they creep towards the entrance of the clinic. The automatic door stands half-destroyed, shattered glass littering the ground, and wisps of black smoke curl from the wreckage of the machinery, creating a haze that chokes the already thick atmosphere.

 

Carefully, she picks her way through the debris, the crunch of shattered glass underfoot resonating in the tense silence. Peering around the doorway, she takes in the scene: the front desk has been overturned, loose papers fluttering like fallen leaves, while several datapads lie scattered across the floor. In the distance, the doctor stands terrified, backed into a corner, surrounded by heavily armed men.

 

A short dividing wall bisects the room, its glass remnants glinting ominously in the dim light. To her surprise, she spots Garrus crouched behind it, his blue armour almost blending into the shadows, poised to spring into action. He catches her eye, lifting a talon to his mouth, signalling her to stay quiet. Alexis nods, her heart racing as she slips into the clinic.

 

“I didn’t tell anyone, I swear!” The doctor’s voice trembles, laced with fear, as she backs toward the exit, desperation etched on her features.

 

Alexis signals to Garrus as he prepares to make his move. “That was smart, Doc.”

 

The thug sneers, his face twisted with malice. “Now, if Garrus comes around, you better stay smart.” He inches closer, and Alexis feels the tension spike. “Keep your mouth shut, or we’ll—”

 

Before he can finish, they spot Alexis, eyes widening in shock. “Who the fuck are you?”

 

Garrus springs into action, but the nearest thug grabs the doctor, dragging her into his grasp. Without hesitation, Garrus fires, the shot echoing in the clinic, a sickening thud as the thug’s body crumples to the floor. Blood splatters across the doctor’s face, the warm crimson stark against her pale skin. She screams, a raw sound of terror stumbling away from the gruesome sight.

 

Instead of retaliating against Garrus, the remaining thugs pivot their weapons toward the doctor. Alexis’s instincts kick in. She leaps from her hiding place, firing her heavy pistol with precise intent. The rounds crack through the thug’s basic shields, slamming into his chest, a mist of blood erupting in the air as he collapses.

 

With a swift motion, Garrus takes down the last thug, the clinic plunging into an eerie silence as their bodies hit the ground. Alexis exhales, stowing her weapon as she turns to Garrus.

 

“Perfect timing, Shepard. Gave me a clear shot at the bastard,” he says, his voice tinged with a mix of relief and adrenaline.

 

Alexis shoves him hard in the chest, frustration boiling over. “Are you out of your mind?!” The Turian blinks, caught off guard by her intensity. “Putting a civilian in danger like that! Don’t they teach you anything in C-Sec?” Her voice is low but fierce, fueled by the chaos she’s just witnessed.

 

“I…” Garrus stammers, his expression shifting from surprise to shame. “I’m sorry, Commander. It won’t happen again.”

 

“You’re damn right it won’t." She nods firmly, the weight of their mission pressing heavily on her shoulders.

 

Turning to the doctor, she introduces herself. “Dr. Michel, I presume?”

 

“Ye ye yes.” The doctor’s voice quivers, still shaken.

 

“If you don’t mind, I have a few questions for you.” Alexis steps closer, her tone turning serious. “Why were those men threatening you? Do you know who they worked for?”

 

“They work for Fist.” Alexis exchanges a confused look with Ashley and Kaidan, “He owns Chora’s Den. They wanted to shut me up from telling Garrus about the Quarian.”

 

“A Quarian? Does this have something to do with the investigation into Saren, Garrus?” Alexis demands, her focus shifting sharply between the doctor and the Turian.

 

“I think it does,” Garrus replies, urgency threading through his words. “Please tell the Commander what happened, Doctor.”

 

“A few days ago, a Quarian came into my clinic. She’d been shot but wouldn’t tell me by who. I could tell she was scared, probably on the run from whoever did.” The doctor’s face pales as she recalls the encounter, “She asked about the Shadow Broker. She wanted to trade information in exchange for a safe place to hide.”

 

“Nobody who knows what’s good for them contacts the Shadow Broker.” Alexis’s tone is firm; the tales of the elusive broker’s ruthlessness are well-known.

 

“I tried to tell her that, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, I put her in contact with Fist. He works for the Shadow Broker," Michel adds, her voice faltering as the implications sink in.

 

Garrus shakes his head vehemently. “Not anymore, unfortunately for our Quarian friend. He works for Saren now, and the Shadow Broker isn’t too happy about it if the chatter from the less reputable side of town is to be believed.”

 

Michel’s mouth drops open in shock, disbelief coursing through her. “Fist betrayed the Shadow Broker? That’s stupid, even for him. Saren must have made him quite the offer to get him to do it.”

 

Alexis thinks for a moment, piecing together the puzzle. “So it stands to reason that the Quarian has something Saren wants, and it’s important enough to make an enemy of the Shadow Broker. If Saren needs it, we need to get to it before he does.” She turns back to the doctor, her voice resolute. “Anything else you can tell me about the Quarian? Every little bit of information helps.”

 

“I’m not sure. Like I said, she wanted a place to hide and was willing to trade whatever information she had to get it.” Dr. Michel’s expression brightens for a moment. “Geth! Her information was to do with the Geth!”

 

Garrus nearly shouts with excitement. “She must have something that can link Saren to the Geth. There’s no way the Council could ignore this! We can finally bring that bastard down.”

 

“Hopefully, the Quarian is still alive,” Alexis murmurs, her thoughts racing as she nods. “It’s time we pay Fist a visit.”

 

Garrus steps forward, a spark of determination in his eyes. “This is your show, Shepard. But I want to bring Saren down as much as you do. I’m coming with you!”

 

Alexis is taken aback by his fervour. “Why do you hate him so much?”

 

Garrus stands tall, his imposing frame filled with conviction. “I couldn’t find the proof during my investigation. But I knew what was really going on. Saren is a traitor to the Council and a disgrace to my people. I need to be there when you take him down.”

 

“As good a reason as any,” Alexis replies, extending her hand. Garrus shakes it firmly, a silent agreement forged between them. “Welcome aboard, Garrus.”

 

“Thanks, Shepard.” He pauses, his mandibles clicking in thought. “You know, we aren’t the only ones going after Fist. I heard the Shadow Broker hired a Krogan bounty hunter named Wrex to take him out.”

 

Ashley interjects with a smirk, “Yeah, we met him at Chora’s Den. Charming guy, really.”

 

“If he’s willing to help, he could be useful if we get into a fight,” Kaidan adds, his expression thoughtful.

 

“I don’t think he’ll be as willing to help as you think he might be, but last I heard, he was at C-Sec headquarters," Garrus offers.

 

“Let me guess, Fist reported him,” Alexis sighs, a mix of frustration and determination swirling within her.

 

Garrus nods, his expression grim. “Fist accused him of making threats, which, of course, he did. We brought Wrex in for a little talk. If we hurry, we should be able to catch him before he leaves.”

 

“You’ll be okay, Doctor?” Alexis asks, concern edging into her voice as they finalise their plans.

 

Dr. Michel nods, steeling herself. “I’ve got a lot of cleaning to do, but I think I’ll be alright. Thank you, Commander.”

 

“We better move then.” Alexis leads her squad, now bolstered by Garrus, out of the clinic. As they set off immediately for C-Sec headquarters, the weight of their mission looms ahead, the urgency driving them forward.

Chapter 3: III

Summary:

Alexis'Shepard becomes a Spectre and the hunt for Saren begins

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

III

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

As Alexis, Garrus, Kaidan, and Ashley make their way through the bustling corridors of C-Sec, they approach the holding area where they’ve heard Wrex might be. The closer they get, the louder they hear a gruff exchange of voices—a standoff in the making.

Four C-Sec officers form a tense ring around the massive Krogan, whose scarred, red armour seems to absorb the dim lighting of the holding area. Wrex stands at ease, arms crossed, seemingly unbothered by the weapons trained on him, his predatory gaze locked onto the lead officer.

“Witnesses say you were seen threatening Fist,” the officer sneers, though a hint of unease betrays his bravado. “Stay away from him, Wrex. C-Sec has eyes on you.”

Wrex’s lip curls, revealing rows of sharp, imposing teeth. “You’re wasting your breath, tin soldier. Fist is my bounty, and I always finish my jobs.” His voice is a low, rumbling growl that carries a weight only centuries of experience can grant.

“This is your only warning,” the officer says, puffing up his chest. “Step out of line, and we’ll have no choice but to take you down.”

At that, Wrex erupts into a booming laugh that reverberates through the metal walls, even making some of the nearby C-Sec agents flinch. “If you think you can take me down, I’d like to see you try.” He steps forward, looming over the officer, whose face goes pale.

At that moment, Wrex spots Alexis and her team just a few feet away, watching the spectacle. His sharp eyes focus on her, narrowing with intrigue.

Ignoring the flustered C-Sec officers, Wrex steps away from the conflict, moving toward Alexis with the steady, unhurried confidence of a tank rolling through a battlefield. “Do I know you, human?” he asks, his voice carrying a curious note as he looks her over. “You look… familiar.”

Alexis meets his gaze, undaunted. "Commander Alexis’Shepard. I hear you’re after Fist," she says, skipping the formalities. "We are, too. Figured it makes more sense to team up than get in each other’s way.”

The Krogan stares at her for a long moment, evaluating. His gaze is intense, piercing through her visor as if weighing her worth. Finally, a sly smile forms on his face, one that’s equal parts amusement and respect. “Commander Alexis’Shepard, huh? Heard of you.” He steps even closer, his face a foot from hers, and lowers his voice to a dangerous rumble. “I’ll give you fair warning out of respect. I’m going to kill Fist. If you stand in my way, I’ll kill you too.”

Garrus, unable to hold back, interrupts. “Fist knows you’re coming for him. If you join us, you’ll have a better chance of getting to him without getting ambushed.”

Wrex raises a scaly brow, tilting his head in thought. He glances at Garrus with something akin to amusement, then back at Alexis. “You know,” he rumbles, “my people have a saying: Seek the enemy of your enemy, and you will find a friend.”

Alexis, smirking, extends a hand. “Then I guess that makes us friends.”

Wrex grunts, clasping her hand in a powerful grip that could probably break bones if he chose to. He releases it with a smirk. “So it does, Shepard.” His eyes gleam with the thrill of the hunt as he turns toward the corridor. “Let’s move. I’d hate to keep Fist waiting.”

Kaidan and Ashley exchange wary glances as the group begins to move out. Wrex falls into step beside Alexis, his hulking frame looming like a living tank. 

“Probably,” Garrus mutters, watching Wrex’s massive frame stride confidently ahead of them. “Guess that’s one way to prove you’re serious.”

As they navigate through the labyrinthine hallways, Wrex breaks the silence. “I don’t usually work with others. Especially not those who spend more time talking than fighting. Don’t disappoint me, Shepard.”

Alexis raises an eyebrow, casting him a sidelong glance. “Stick around. I’ve got a feeling you’ll get all the action you can handle—and then some.”

Wrex chuckles, the sound low and ominous. “Good. Keep up! The galaxy waits for no one.” He casts a grin over his shoulder. “And neither does a Krogan.”

Alexis shakes her head, suppressing a smile. She feels that working with Wrex will be an adventure of its own. But for now, she focuses on the task ahead, knowing that with a Krogan on her side, Fist doesn’t stand a chance.

Alexis strides through the wards with her squad, the usual throng of merchants and buyers conspicuously absent. The vibrant chatter and the bustling of foot traffic are replaced by an eerie silence, amplifying the tension in the air. Even the two Krogans that typically stand guard outside Chora’s Den are nowhere to be seen, leaving an unsettling void in their usual posts.

Wrex pulls his shotgun free, inspecting the weapon with a critical eye. Alexis has been eyeing it throughout their descent, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension swirling in her mind. The modifications on that shotgun likely skirt the edges of legality within Citadel Space, though she’s not about to challenge Wrex on weapon regulations. “They know we’re coming,” he growls, his voice low and rumbling.

“Not going to run away, are you, Wrex?” Alexis quips, the banter flowing easily between them, bringing a lightness to the tension that draws amused glances from the rest of the squad.

“HA! It just makes it more fun.” Wrex's grin is predatory as they reach the front door of the club, locked tight by magnetic seals. “Time to prepare only makes their deaths that much sweeter," he adds, his excitement palpable.

Alexis signals the squad to take positions on either side of the door, her heart pounding in rhythm with the bass-heavy music that thumps from within. She activates her Omni tool, quickly bypassing what she deems substandard security. The door slides open, but the moment is met with a hail of bullets that whizz past her, embedding themselves in the wall beyond with a satisfying thud.

“Now!” she shouts, nodding at Wrex. They both pull grenades from their belts, the familiar weight reassuring in their hands, and launch them through the opening. The deafening explosions follow, accompanied by the screams of Fist’s mercenaries. The squad charges through the opening, diving for cover just as another barrage of gunfire erupts, the air thick with the acrid smell of burnt ozone and gunpowder.

In the chaos, Alexis pops up faster than the mercenaries can retreat, her Avenger barking to life in her hands. Each round finds its mark as Kaidan, his brow furrowed in concentration, unleashes a Singularity, lifting several mercenaries into the air like ragdolls. The squad methodically picks them off, Wrex relishing the carnage as he takes out two at once with a single, thunderous shotgun blast.

“RETREAT!” the mercenary's cry echoes in panic as they scramble toward the back of the club. Kaidan hurls one of the mercs backward while Ashley lines up her shot. Garrus, perched behind a nearby bar, fires with pinpoint accuracy, each bullet striking true, a lethal dance of death through the haze.

Alexis’s gaze sweeps over the interior of the club just as the heavy doors slam shut behind them. Fist has mercenaries at every makeshift bar, their eyes wild with fear and desperation. Every table has been overturned, creating a makeshift labyrinth, and another troop hides behind each one. They’ll need to push in and take out as many as they can or risk heavy casualties.

Before she can formulate a strategy, Wrex, with a roar that shakes the very air, stands up and charges, his entire form wreathed in dark energy. He bursts through the door like a battering ram, sending metal and glass flying as he bellows, “I AM KROGAN!”

The squad pours in behind him, each member unleashing a hail of fire on the nearest foes. Wrex is a force of nature, a relentless engine of destruction, taking down enemies left and right, his barrier absorbing bullets like a sponge. With a swift motion, he reaches over the bar, seizing a terrified mercenary and hurling him at another, their bodies colliding with a sickening crunch. Wrex follows up with a single, devastating shotgun blast, leaving the two incapacitated.

Crouching behind the bar, Alexis feels the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins as bullets ping off the surface, the club’s thumping music fading into the background of the firefight. “Not a fan of strategy then?” she calls to Wrex, her voice almost lost in the cacophony.

“Krogans don’t do strategy, Shepard.” Wrex’s reply is almost casual as if he’s confirming a well-known fact. To emphasise his point, he produces a grenade from his waist and casually tosses it across the room without a glance. The explosion sends mercenaries screaming, eliciting a wild laugh from Wrex.

Alexis smirks, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes as she quickly shifts gears. With a smooth motion, she stows away her Avenger rifle and draws her sleek Predator pistol, activating the incendiary mod with a practised flick of her wrist. Her gaze sweeps across the chaotic scene before her, landing on a half-full bottle of Asari-made vodka nestled among the scattered debris. “This will work,” she murmurs to herself, a sly smile creeping onto her lips.

With a deft movement, she glances at her target, gauging the distance and angles. Leaning back slightly, she launches the bottle into the air as if it were a grenade, watching it soar like a comet against the backdrop of the dimly lit bar. Just as it reaches the apex of its flight, she pulls the trigger. The bullet connects with the glass, and with a satisfying shatter, the vodka erupts into a fiery blast, engulfing a nearby mercenary in flames. He barely has time to react, stumbling backwards in a frantic attempt to escape the inferno, flames dancing dangerously close, singeing his hair and leaving angry, red burns blistering on his arms.

Wrex’s booming laughter cuts through the chaos, rumbling like thunder, “I like you, Human. You might even be part Krogan!”

Alexis grins at the compliment, feeling a surge of pride as she recalls her mother's stories of similar feats from her Pilgrimage. She quickly makes hand signals to her squad, their training evident as they respond in unison. Kaidan conjures a protective barrier, allowing Garrus to get a running start. With a powerful boost, Alexis sends him flying over the bar, where he rolls into cover on the stage where the Asari dancers usually perform.

Ashley and Kaidan move left while Alexis and Wrex push right, the two pairs of combatants coordinating seamlessly. Garrus takes up his position, sniping any mercenary that dares to get too close. Alexis watches the targeting calculations flash across Garrus’s visor, her own running parallel as she calculates their next move.

The five of them work as a cohesive unit, driving the remaining mercenaries back into the shadowy recesses of the club. Wrex’s barrier holds firm against the incoming fire while glancing shots barely scratch their armour. Alexis grimaces as she sees bullets pierce Wrex’s armour, a small spray of crimson marking the impact. He seems oblivious, his focus unwavering as he charges ahead.

Kaidan provides cover, using his biotic abilities to hurl mercenaries into the air, leaving them vulnerable to Garrus’s precise shots. The room quickly descends into chaos, the floor littered with the bodies of their foes.

Soon, the only sounds left are the heavy breathing of Alexis’s squad and the faint thrum of the club's music, now muted in the aftermath of battle. Garrus leaps down from the stage, landing with a thud as he shifts to cover the door leading deeper into the club. Alexis approaches, scanning the next entry point.

“Bit tougher than the front entrance,” she notes, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. “But…” She crouches beside the control panel, expertly prying it open with her Omni tool. “Always a way through. Ready?” The squad members nod, each gripping a grenade, the anticipation electric.

With a twist of her wrist, Alexis disengages the magnetic lock. The door slides open with a hiss, and she tosses her grenade inside, followed closely by four more. “GET DOWN!” the mercenaries' cries of shock cut short as the room erupts in an explosion of fire and debris.

As the smoke billows outward, Alexis leads her squad forward, a whirlwind of determination and firepower, sprinting into the chaos, ready to finish what they started.

The dust settles just enough for Alexis to spot the last line of defence—a pair of battered Krogan and a handful of humans, all wounded yet resolute, gripping their weapons with grim determination. Alexis and Wrex move in tandem, an unspoken rhythm driving their assault. Alexis stays low, using Wrex's massive frame as cover, firing off precise shots at one of the Krogan. Each pull of her trigger is calculated, her HUD guiding her shots, aiming to find any weak points in the thick armour.

With a primal roar, Wrex unleashes his biotic barrier and charges forward like an unstoppable force of nature. His fist slams into the first Krogan with a bone-crushing impact; a sickening crack echoes through the room as his foe is lifted off his feet and thrown against the wall, bones shattering on impact. Alexis keeps her fire trained on the other Krogan, her shots carving into his armour with relentless precision until he slumps backwards, lifeless. She swiftly ejects her smoking thermal clip, snapping in a fresh one with smooth efficiency just as Garrus, Ashley, and Kaidan sweep in behind them, dispatching the remaining stragglers with brutal efficiency.

They push forward, rounding the next corner as one—a silent, deadly unit. Ahead, they see an open doorway, where Fist waits, flanked by two gun turrets. He sneers at them, shouting over the whirring of the turrets powering up. "My men might be all dead, but you won’t get me!”

Bullets erupt from the turrets, forcing the squad to dive back around the corner as a storm of metal tears through the space they’d just occupied. Alexis dares a quick peek, narrowly dodging a bullet that leaves a burning scratch along her helmet. She taps frantically on her Omni-tool, hacking into the turrets’ network—a network Fist hasn’t even bothered isolating. Seconds tick by in tense silence as she overrides the targeting system, fingers flying as she redirects their sights.

Then, with a shrill beep, the turrets whirr, swivelling toward each other in an unexpected crossfire. The squad watches in satisfaction as the turrets shred each other in a burst of sparks and smoke.

Rolling her neck as if merely loosening up, Alexis strides forward into the room, drawing her assault rifle with an air of dangerous ease. She takes slow, deliberate steps toward Fist, who is half-sprawled on the ground, his eyes wide with terror despite his best attempt to look defiant. “Fist, I presume?” she says coldly, each word dripping with disdain.

He spits blood onto the floor, scowling. “Why the hell would I help you? You’ve killed my men and trashed my club. I don’t owe you anything.”

Alexis lets out a dry laugh. “Oh, you do,” she says, her voice soft but brimming with menace. “See, my friend here…” She motions to Wrex, who cracks his knuckles with a menacing grin. “He has a contract on you, from the Shadow Broker. Now, I don’t know the details, but I’d bet it doesn’t end well for you.” She leans in, her tone almost conversational, as if they were discussing the weather. “So either you tell me what I want to know, or I let Wrex…get creative.”

Fist’s face blanches as he catches the cold glint in her eyes, the only visible part of her behind her armoured visor. He swallows hard, his earlier bravado draining away. “Wh…what do you need to know?”

Her voice drops, and her Quarian accent slips through, adding an eerie, melodic edge. “Where. Is. The Quarian?” She says it slowly, each word carrying a razor-sharp edge that cuts through the air between them, daring him to try lying.

Fist’s hesitation is brief but fatal. “Dead,” he sneers, the last of his courage fizzling out.

Without warning, Alexis backhands him across the face with her gauntleted hand. The crack of impact echoes in the stillness. He recoils, clutching his cheek, a fresh bruise already forming. “Don’t lie to me,” she hisses.

Whimpering, he raises a hand in surrender. “She’s not here! She…she would only deal with the Shadow Broker directly, so I set her up a meeting!”

Wrex scoffs from behind her. “No one has ever met the Shadow Broker. Even I had to go through an agent.”

Fist’s face twists with terror. “Yes, but she didn’t know that! I told her I’d set up a meeting. But…” He trails off, his eyes flitting between Alexis and Wrex. He swallows, his voice a broken whisper. “It’s a trap. Saren’s men will be waiting for her. They’re going to kill her.”

Her patience snaps. Grabbing him by the neck of his armour, Alexis hauls him up, slamming him against the wall hard enough to knock the breath from him. Her voice drops to a near-growl as if something feral has slipped out. “Where and when?” 

Fist stammers out the words, his eyes wide with terror. “The alley behind the markets! A few minutes from now. You’ll…you’ll never make it in time.”

She releases him, and he crumbles to the floor. “He’s all yours, Wrex.” Without a second glance, she turns and rushes out of the office, her squad falling into formation behind her. 

Wrex lingers, towering over the cowering man. Fist looks up, his hands shaking as he raises them in a feeble plea. “Please…don’t—”

The roar of Wrex’s shotgun cuts him off mid-sentence, leaving nothing but a splatter of blood and a grim silence. Wrex calmly holstered his weapon, sending a quick message to the Shadow Broker’s agent on his Omni tool. Then he lopes out of the room, catching up with the others as they race toward the alley, his heavy steps echoing down the hallway.

He was Urdnot Wrex, Krogan Battlemaster. And he always finished his job.

Alexis bolts through the club, her squad’s armoured footsteps thundering behind her in unison, the adrenaline in the air almost palpable. They are running against the clock, racing down each corridor and around each corner with deadly focus. Alexis slides sharply into a turn, engaging her magnetic boot locks to brace herself mid-slide before disengaging, never breaking her stride as they neared their destination.

The squad finally skids to a halt before a sturdy, unmarked door—the last barrier to the meeting place. Alexis raises a hand, signalling a silent countdown as they take up positions. She meets each team member's gaze in turn; they nod, ready. As the countdown hits zero, she opens the door, rifle raised, and steps into the alley beyond.

Before them stands a frozen tableau of tension—a Turian and two Salarians face down a lone Quarian who holds her shotgun in a defiant stance. For a split second, everything is eerily still. Then the Quarian moves, diving backwards into cover while tossing a stun grenade that rolls perfectly between her attackers. The grenade detonates with a bright flash, stunning her assailants and sending them stumbling.

Alexis ducks behind a nearby crate, her HUD showing her team doing the same. Gunfire erupts, the alley’s walls echoing the shots in a metallic cacophony as the thugs, still disoriented, fire wildly.

A warning alert pings in Alexis’s visor—an attempted security breach. She quickly locates the source: the Quarian’s own hack pinging through her systems. She looks over, locking eyes with the Quarian across the battlefield, even through the opaque sheen of her visor. The Quarian makes a quick hand gesture, pointing to her shotgun and then to the thugs. She holds up her fingers, counting down silently. Alexis understands immediately.

“Get ready!” Alexis barks over the comms. The moment the mercenaries’ overheated weapons hiss with venting gas, she and her team are already moving. One Salarian’s shield flares, then fizzles out, leaving him exposed—Ashley doesn't hesitate, dropping him with a clean burst to the chest, sending him sprawling, dead.

Her rifle’s sights locked onto the second Salarian as he made a desperate break for cover, but her shots cut him down mid-step, his body hitting the ground with a heavy thud. Searching the alley, she spots the Turian slumped against a wall with Kaidan standing over him, ensuring he was down for good. Satisfied, she gives the area one last sweep before stowing her rifle and heading toward the Quarian while her squad fanned out to secure the perimeter.

Alexis crouches down in front of the Quarian, who sits against the wall, her chest heaving slightly as she takes in the aftermath of the skirmish. “Are you alright? Are there any suit breaches?” Alexis asks in Khelish, the language of her childhood. The familiar syllables ground her in a way that Cit-speak never quite could.

The Quarian’s head jerked up, visibly startled by the sound of Khelish. “No breaches,” she replied, her tone automatically matter-of-fact—a question all Quarians had answered a thousand times. She pauses, looking Alexis over with a hint of wonder. “Thank you,” she adds, her voice softer. She accepted Alexis’s extended hand, letting the Commander pull her to her feet. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t arrived.”

Alexis shakes her head. “No need to thank me. I’m just glad we got here in time.” She feels an uncharacteristic warmth in her chest as she speaks Khelish, as if a part of her she usually kept hidden was, just for a moment, free.

Something in the Quarian’s posture shifts, a glimmer of pride surfacing. “I can handle myself, you know. I’m pretty sure I just won that fight for you.”

Alexis raises an eyebrow behind her visor, a playful challenge. “You did well,” she said, voice light. “But maybe next time, we can skip the suit breach?” Alexis couldn’t completely hide her unease, her heart pounding with the faint fear of vulnerability.

The Quarian’s posture softens as she quickly releases her hold over their armour systems as she realises she still has her hack running. “Keelah! I didn’t—I was just…” She stammers, clearly mortified.

The others examine their systems with varying expressions, and Ashley, who’d been watching silently, steps forward, fists clenching. “Why, you little—”

Alexis holds up a hand to silence her. “It’s fine. She was protecting herself. Good instincts. Frankly, I’d have done the same. In a firefight, anyone with a gun is a threat," switching from Cit-speak to order Ahsley back to Khelish.

The Quarian relaxes a little, her initial shock easing into a smile Alexis can almost sense behind her visor. “I…thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?”

“Alexis’Shepard nar Mindoir. Alliance Navy. Commander.” Alexis takes a small step back, giving the Quarian space as she introduces herself. “I’m looking for evidence against a Turian Spectre—Saren. He’s working against the Citadel, and I intend to prove it.”

The Quarian’s posture shifts a flash of something—hope?—sparking in her body language. “I may have what you need, Commander. It’s the least I can do to thank you for saving my life. But we shouldn’t talk here. We need somewhere safe.”

Alexis nods. “Agreed. Let’s get you somewhere safe. The Human Embassy, maybe?” She turns to Garrus, whose head tilted in understanding.

“Human Embassy’s a solid call,” he said. “We’ll need Ambassador Udina to get in front of the Council, anyway.”

“Perfect.” Alexis’s voice is firm, though inside, she feels an unexpected sense of ease speaking in her true accent without the need to play Commander Shepard. She turns to the Quarian with a slight tilt of her head, her body language as warm as her words. “I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”

“Oh! Tali’Zorah nar Rayya.” Tali’s voice holds a smile. Alexis can see the hint of it through the polarised glass and sense, in the slight quiver in her tone, a mingling of relief and gratitude.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tali’Zorah," Alexis says, extending her left hand in a gesture that the Quarian instantly recognises. She watches with satisfaction as Tail takes her arm in a firm forearm grip, a traditional Quarian handshake.

Alexis glances around the alley once more, the familiar feeling of eyes on her back. She knows her team is watching, some with confusion, others with curiosity, and maybe one with a hint of shock. But as they move to escort Tali back to the embassy, Alexis allows herself to feel at ease, finally unburdened by the need to pretend—even if only for a little while.

As Alexis strides into Udina’s office, her presence commands the room even before the ambassador turns around. The ambassador is facing the large window, his back rigid, hands clasped tightly behind him. Alexis can almost picture his nails biting into his palms, fury simmering beneath his well-polished surface. Captain Anderson stands nearby, his quiet demeanour in stark contrast to Udina’s barely contained rage.

“You’re making my job very difficult, Shepard,” Udina snaps, voice laced with venom. His tone carries all the weight of a reprimand meant for an insubordinate, not for a soldier who’s just risked her life. “Firefights in the ward. A full-frontal assault on Chora’s Den. I’ve half a mind to court-martial you myself if the Council doesn’t do it first.” He turns, eyes narrowed in exasperation, and stumbles mid-sentence as he finally takes in her companions.

Garrus stands straight-backed, eyes keen and observant, while Wrex looms beside him, radiating a dangerous calm. Next to them, Tali shifts her weight ever so slightly, her helmet obscuring most of her expression but clearly indicating wariness at the human’s less-than-welcoming stare.

“And who are these… individuals you’ve brought with you, Commander?” Udina spits out, each word coated in disdain. His eyes linger suspiciously on the Quarian, then on the Krogan, who meets his gaze with a slow, humourless grin.

Alexis feels the sharp words on her tongue but catches herself, a brief glance from Anderson reminding her to rein it in. “This is Garrus, the C-Sec officer investigating Saren; Wrex, a Krogan bounty hunter who was after Fist; and Tali’Zorah nar Rayya, who has evidence that could expose Saren as a traitor to the Council.”

The word “evidence” cuts through Udina’s hostility, though only slightly. His expression tightens, but a flicker of interest emerges. “We don’t see many actual Quarians here,” he says, struggling to mask his disdain. “Why did you leave the Flotilla?”

Tali hesitates, casting a quick glance at Alexis before responding. “I left to travel for my Pilgrimage. It’s a rite of passage for my people,” she explains, her words respectful but carefully distant, as though keeping a necessary wall between herself and the ambassador's obvious disdain.

With a subtle nod, Alexis jumps in, her question gentle but direct. “How did your Pilgrimage bring you into conflict with Saren’s forces? They don't often end up entangled with Spectres."

Tali's eyes dip, her hands fidgeting with a few controls on her omni-tool before she meets Alexis’s gaze again. “I heard rumours of the Geth shortly after leaving the Flotilla. Since they hadn’t been seen beyond the Veil in centuries, I was… curious,” she admits. She looks down, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, then back up, her eyes hard with resolve. “I tracked a small group of them to an uncharted planet, managed to lure one away, and extracted its memory core. It wasn’t easy… but I got what I needed.”

Anderson leans forward, curiosity plain in his gaze. “I thought the Geth destroyed their memory cores upon death?”

Tali nods, her voice taking on a faintly proud tone. “They do, but if you’re fast enough, you can salvage pieces of data. I saved a few fragments, including an audio file that I think will help your case.”

The room stills as Tali activates her Omni-tool. A recording crackles to life, and Saren’s voice cuts through the silence, his tone cold and calculating. “Eden Prime was a major victory! The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit.”

Anderson’s eyes narrow, absorbing the implications as he exchanges a glance with Alexis. “This proves Saren’s connection to the Eden Prime attack. The Council can’t ignore this.”

Alexis’s expression hardens into a fierce grin. “Then let’s go get this bosh'tet,” she murmurs, her voice low but charged.

But before she can turn toward the door, Tali reaches out, her gloved hand gripping Alexis’s arm. “Wait—there’s more. Saren’s not working alone.”

The file continues playing. Another voice follows Saren’s, female and eerily calm. “And one step closer to the return of the Reapers.”

The word lands like a shockwave, silence hanging heavy in the air. Udina’s brow furrows, his scepticism clear. “Saren’s voice is unmistakable, but who’s the second person?”

Alexis feels a chill down her spine as the word “Reapers” evokes memories of her vision—flashes of destruction, waves of cold machinery dismantling life itself. “The Reapers,” she whispers. “That’s… that’s what I saw in the vision. Not just the Geth, but something far worse.”

Tali’s gaze is steady as she adds, “According to the Geth’s memory core, the Reapers were machines that wiped out the Protheans 50,000 years ago before vanishing. They’re more than a myth to the Geth. They revere them as gods and seem to believe Saren will bring them back.”

Udina’s expression shifts from confusion to thinly veiled scepticism. “A fairytale told by synthetics,” he mutters dismissively. But as his gaze falls on the fierce determination etched across Alexis’s face, he finds himself faltering.

“Ambassador, I know what I saw,” Alexis says firmly, her voice layered with an authority that gives him pause. “I believe Tali. The Reapers are a threat to all of us, and if Saren thinks he can bring them back, then we’re all in grave danger.”

A heavy silence hangs over the room as Udina finally concedes, his expression softening slightly under the weight of the evidence. “Very well, we’ll present this to the Council. They can judge the credibility of your… Reapers theory.” But his gaze snaps back to Tali, his tone harsh again. “And what about the Quarian?”

Tali’s posture stiffens, a flash of indignation crossing her stance as she lifts her chin. “My name is Tali’Zorah nar Rayya,” she says, voice steady but laced with defiance.

Alexis steps forward, placing a steadying hand on Tali’s shoulder. “She’s with me, Ambassador,” Alexis states with quiet authority. Her gaze softens as she turns to Tali. “If that’s alright with you, Tali’Zorah.”

Tali nods, a small but grateful smile hidden beneath her visor. “Absolutely, Commander.”

A reluctant nod from Udina is all the permission they need. Alexis leads her squad out of the office, glancing back at Tali with a reassuring nod. The Quarian visibly relaxes as they leave, a renewed sense of purpose in her step as she follows them out. The tension lingers, but now, at least, it’s focused outward—toward the battle that lies ahead.

Alexis paces outside the Council chambers, her every step sharp and deliberate, echoing faintly off the walls. She tries to steady herself, to focus on her breathing, but a surge of adrenaline makes her heart pound against her ribcage. With each tap of her fingers against the thigh plate of her armour, she sharpens her senses, keeping herself grounded as Udina and Anderson exchange heated words with the Councillors inside. Around her, her squad waits in varying states of readiness: Garrus stands alert, arms crossed and gaze unblinking, while Tali fidgets nervously with her Omni-tool, the faint blue glow illuminating her masked face. Wrex leans against the wall, his massive arms folded in silent disdain for all the political pageantry.

Finally, the doors to the chamber slide open with a quiet hiss, and Alexis steps into the room, her boots clicking sharply against the floor. The atmosphere inside was thick with a tension that almost made it suffocating. The Councilors—Tevos, Valern, and Sparatus—were all listening intently as the audio recording of Saren’s betrayal filled the room. The moment Alexis enters, the faces of the Councillors tell her everything: disgust, shock, and an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Even Sparatus, the ever-composed Turian, is visibly shaken, his once-proud stance now slumped slightly forward as his hand grasped the edge of his podium. 

Udina, of course, is smug as ever. His hand swept dismissively toward the three Councilors, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You wanted proof. There it is.”

Sparatus, the Turian Councillor, stares at the console, visibly shaken, his posture no longer rigid. He swallows audibly, his voice betraying a rare tremor. “This evidence is… irrefutable, no matter how much we may desire it not to be.” He pauses, his voice straining under the weight of his words. “As of this moment, Saren is no longer a Spectre. All privileges and status are henceforth revoked.” He glances up, his eyes darkening. “Furthermore, all efforts will be made to bring him in so that justice may be served for those who perished at Eden Prime and any other atrocities Saren may have committed.”

A faint sense of satisfaction flickers within Alexis—finally, the Council is seeing the truth. But before she can savour it, Tevos speaks, her voice tinged with a cold dread.

“I recognise the voice at the end of the recording with Saren,” she says, her usually serene blue face drained of colour. “It’s Matriarch Benezia.”

Udina turns on Alexis, his tone bordering on irritation. “Who’s Matriarch Benezia?” He almost hisses as though Alexis should have known every player in the Asari hierarchy.

The Asari Councillor’s face softens slightly despite Udina’s tone. “Matriarchs are some of the most powerful individuals in Asari space,” she explains with quiet reverence. “They are in their final stages of life and are revered for their wisdom and experience. They guide our people into the future. Benezia, in particular, is among the most powerful biotics you are ever likely to meet.”

Alexis absorbs this information, but her mind is already moving forward toward the mystery that haunts her every thought: the Reapers. It’s Valern who breaks the silence, his voice tinged with interest that borders on obsession.

“I am more interested in the Reapers Matriarch Benezia mentioned,” he says, his large eyes narrowing as he studies Alexis. “What do you know about them?”

Anderson steps in before Alexis can respond. “Only what Miss Zorah here could extract from the Geth’s memory core.” Tali’s head jerks up, and Alexis catches the brief flicker of surprise beneath her helmet. Anderson’s acknowledgement seems to have startled her, and Alexis offers her an encouraging smile. Tali quickly looks away, but Alexis senses her pride.

Anderson’s voice is steady as he continues, “The Reapers were a race of ancient, hyper-advanced machines. They exterminated the Protheans, then vanished without a trace.”

Sparatus’s gaze darkens, but he doesn’t interrupt as Anderson continues. “The Geth believe the Reapers are gods. And Saren is their prophet, a zealot desperate to bring them back.”

Alexis feels the need to reinforce this. “We believe the Conduit is the key to the Reaper’s return. Saren is searching for it, and that’s why Saren attacked Eden Prime,” she says with a steady resolve.

Valern regards her with scepticism, almost scoffing. “Do we even know what this Conduit might be?”

Alexis straightens, her voice hard as steel. “If Saren needs it to bring back the Reapers, does it really matter what it is? We just need to get the Conduit and destroy it before he can get his hands on it!”

“Enough, Commander.” Sparatus’s voice cuts through, cold and dismissive. His stare is intense, mandibles flaring slightly as he leans forward. “Do you really believe Saren would risk everything to bring back machines that supposedly wiped out all advanced life forms in the galaxy?” He shakes his head. “It’s impossible. It has to be.” He lets his gaze settle on her, sceptical and piercing. “If the Reapers were even real, why haven’t we found any evidence of their existence before now? Where did they go after wiping out the Protheans? Why did they disappear? We would have found something if they were real.”

Each word drives Alexis’s frustration higher. “The Reapers are real!” She steps forward, fists clenched. “You didn’t listen to me about Saren being a traitor. I’m not in the habit of lying, especially not when talking about galactic annihilation! Don’t make the same mistake again—don’t ignore me now.”

Tevos sighs, her voice carrying a hint of resignation as she drums her fingers along the console. “This is different, Commander. You proved that Saren betrayed us; we have accepted that as truth. We have done everything possible to ensure he will be brought to justice. We realise he’s using the Geth to search for this Conduit, but we don’t know why, not until we have evidence proving it one way or another.”

Valern, ever the voice of logic, cuts in with an air of finality. “It’s obvious that Saren is using a fantastical myth to ensure that the Geth remain obedient. It’s a convenient cover story to hide his true goal—whatever that may be.”

Alexis clenches her jaw, every muscle tense, feeling the weight of her squad’s silent support behind her. Their faith drives her forward, giving her the strength to confront the disbelief around her. Her voice rings out, steady and unyielding.

“Then I’ll get you your proof. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if you wait too long to believe it," Alexis declares.

The tension in the Council chambers is at a breaking point, like the air before a thunderstorm. Alexis's pulse throbs in her ears, drowning out the faint hum of the Citadel. The anger simmering inside her surges forward as she raises an accusatory finger, pointing directly at the Council. Her eyes glow with intensity, and the light from the room glints off her visor, highlighting the fierce determination behind her gaze.

“The Geth believe the Reapers are real!” she shouts, her voice echoing off the chamber walls. “Fifty thousand years ago, they wiped out galactic civilisation. If Saren succeeds, they’ll just come back and do it again! Do you really think we can stop them when we barely understand half of the Protheans’ technology? The Reapers wiped them out, and they’ll do exactly the same to us!”

Sparatus, his voice laced with sharpness, bites back. “Saren is no longer a Spectre and is currently on the run. He’s lost his privileges and his access to resources. The Council has taken everything from him. It’s only a matter of time before we catch him.”

"That's not enough!” Alexis shouts, her rage overflowing, her fists clenched at her sides. 

Anderson places a firm hand on her shoulder, a grounding weight that barely holds her back from stepping further into danger. Alexis’s fingers twitch, the urge to push forward so strong that it takes all her restraint to stay where she is.

Then, unexpectedly, Udina steps in, his tone more resolute than usual. “I agree with the Commander,” he says, surprising everyone, especially Alexis. “You know Saren’s hiding in the Traverse! Send in the Citadel fleet to root him out!”

Tevos regains her composure, her skin returning to its normal shade of blue as she fixes a glare on Udina. “A fleet cannot find a single man, Ambassador.”

“But it can protect the entire region!” Udina argues, gripping the railing as if drawing strength from it. “Prevent the Geth from attacking any more of our colonies.”

Sparatus shakes his head, his gaze calculating, every bit the strategic mind of the Turian military. “Or it could trigger a war with the Terminus Systems,” he says firmly. “I will not let the Citadel fleet be dragged into a full-scale war over a few dozen Human colonies.”

Alexis watches the exchange unfold, the growing frustration in her gut simmering over. She could feel the sharp glances of her squad on her back. And in that moment, a plan forms—a daring, dangerous plan, but one that might be her only shot at taking Saren down without igniting the very war the Council feared, no matter how much she might not want it.

She steps forward, her voice cutting through the argument. “Then just send me.”

The words seem to hang in the air, echoing with a force that surprises even her. The entire room turns to face her, and she can feel the weight of every gaze, every silent judgment. She meets their eyes without flinching.

“One ship, travelling near the Terminus,” she continues. “No matter who it belongs to, it won’t start a war. I can go after Saren with minimal risk to humanity or the Citadel.”

The Councilors exchange glances, clearly caught off-guard. Tevos is the first to find her voice, considering Alexis with a newfound respect. “I believe the Commander is right. There would be no need to send a fleet, and she can bring Saren to justice without provoking the Terminus systems.”

But Sparatus, still wary, shakes his head sharply. “No! It’s too soon. Humanity is not ready for the responsibility of having one of their own join the ranks of the Spectres!”

Anger flares in Alexis’s chest. She shrugs off Anderson’s grip and takes a bold step forward, almost pushing Udina out of the way. “I proved one of your best agents was a traitor! I followed the leads, and I found the evidence you needed. I’ve proven myself!” Her gaze sweeps over them, defiant. “But no, let the Council hide its head in the sand instead of dealing with the real threats facing us.”

Sparatus’s mandibles flare, and his face twists with offense. For a moment, it seems he might shout back at her, but the hard stares from Tevos and Valern temper his fury. Slowly, his expression shifts from indignation to reluctant acceptance. He gives a single nod, and the three Councilors press something on their consoles.

Alexis takes a quick glance around the chamber, noticing the balconies surrounding them. Dozens of people are gathered, many of them watching her intently, abandoning their conversations to witness this pivotal moment.

Tevos speaks first, her voice calm but solemn. “Commander Alexis’Shepard, it is the decision of the Council that you be granted all the powers and privileges of the Citadel’s Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch.”

Valern continues, his tone laced with pride and ceremony. “Spectres are chosen, not trained. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file.”

“Spectres are an ideal, a symbol,” Tevos says, her gaze meets Alexis’s. “The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will.” Her words have a rehearsed cadence, but Alexis can tell there is genuine respect beneath them. This was a speech that has been given to countless others who have joined the Spectres, a tradition she is now part of.

Sparatus surprises her by speaking next, his tone devoid of the derision he has shown earlier. “Spectres bear a great burden,” he says, his voice low but steady. “They are the protectors of galactic peace. Both our first and last line of defence. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold.”

A profound silence falls over the room as the weight of her new title settles on Alexis. She can feel the gaze of her squad behind her and can sense the gravity of what has just been granted to her.

Alexis stands at attention, feeling the weight of the words settles over her. For just a moment, she thinks she catches a flicker of a smile on the Asari Councilor’s face, subtle and almost conspiratorial like Tevos is letting her glimpse something beneath the polished exterior of a diplomat.

“You are the first from the Systems Alliance to be made a Spectre, Commander. This is a great accomplishment for both you and your entire species,” Tevos continues, her voice even but carrying an unmistakable gravity.

Every muscle in Alexis’s body tightens with the urge to give some sort of quip—something to remind them that she’s still just a soldier, that all this pomp and ceremony isn’t what she signed up for. But she catches herself. At this moment, she’s not just Alexis'Shepard, a soldier and outlier.

As she stands before the Council, Alexis can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her—a weight that isn’t just about her human heritage but about all the parts of her that don’t fit into the simple mould the Council might want to see. The fact that beneath her armour is a bodysuit more reminiscent of a Quarian than a typical human soldier's uniform, that she grew up speaking Khelish instead of any human language, and that she thinks of her mum and the few Quarian enclaves she has lived in more often than Earth when someone mentions “home.” All of that is with her now.

With a slow exhale, she lifts her hand in a respectful salute, steady and unflinching. “Thank you, Councilors. This is a great honour.” She hesitates just a beat, letting her gaze meet each of theirs before adding, in a tone that’s both personal and defiant, “Keelah Se’lai.”

The words hang in the air, soft but resonant, carrying with them the weight of her Quarian heritage. It’s a small reminder, one she doesn’t offer lightly: that she belongs to more than just one people and that her roots—and her loyalty—run deeper than any one label or title. The phrase is one her mother taught her, one that means “By the homeworld I hope to see one day.” It’s a promise, a prayer, and a rallying cry for the Quarian people, and she lets it serve as her own here.

The Councilors exchange glances. Tevos’s eyes soften slightly as if she understands more than she’s letting on, while Valern and Sparatus seem surprised, perhaps even taken aback. But none of them challenge her. Instead, Tevos inclines her head in acknowledgement, a silent but profound gesture of respect.

For a moment, Alexis allows herself to feel the pride swelling in her chest, not just for herself but for her family and all those who made this moment possible. She thinks of her mother, Mari'Saalas, who gave her the skills she needed to survive, who taught her the value of the Quarian spirit—resilient, clever, and endlessly determined. She thinks of the way her people would clasp each other's arms in greeting, the unspoken understanding that community was survival, that each individual was part of something greater. She straightens, already feeling the weight of the responsibility settling on her shoulders. Whatever lies ahead, she’ll face it as both Alexis'Shepard and the galaxy’s first Alliance Spectre, unapologetically herself in every sense.

As she turns to leave, her hand instinctively moves to the edge of her helmet, brushing against the seals in a gesture reminiscent of the way a Quarian might check the integrity of their suit. It’s a reminder of the life she’s led up to this point, and the life she still carries with her. Her mum taught her to be resourceful, to be unyielding, and to fight for a future even when the odds are impossibly stacked against her. And now, as she steps into this new role, she carries that same fight into the stars.

The three somehow turn even more serious as Valern gives the Commander her first orders as a Spectre, “You are to travel into the Traverse and apprehend the traitor Saren. He’s a fugitive from the justice of the Citadel, so you are authorised to use any and all means necessary. You may either apprehend or eliminate the threat as you see fit.”

As the Council’s decree echoes in Alexis’s ears, Valern’s words stay with her, resonating like a drumbeat: “Use any and all means necessary.” It felt surreal, the weight of her new authority settling on her shoulders, as tangible as the armour she wears.

As the Council leaves, she lets out a soft sigh, the relief clear in her posture. Anderson steps forward, offering a proud smile and a firm handshake. “Congratulations, Shepard. You earned this.” She clasps his hand, finding steadiness in his grip.

Udina, meanwhile, has already activated his omni-tool, fingers tapping rapidly as he fires off messages, his attention focused on logistics rather than the moment. “We’ve got a lot of work to do. You’ll need a ship, a crew, and supplies.” He pauses, eyes narrowed in thought before gesturing to Anderson. “Come with me, Captain. I’ll need your help to set everything up.” With a final brisk nod, he strides off with Anderson in tow.

Wrex watches the pair leave, snorting as he eyes Udina’s retreating back. “Not even a thank you. Ungrateful ass.”

Alexis smirks. “You just narrowed my opinion of Udina down to two words, Wrex.”

The Krogan chuckles, his voice a rumbling drawl. “You don’t get to my age without learning to read people. Udina wouldn’t thank you if you saved his life from a thresher maw.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I've seen enough thresher maws.” Alexis glances around, then motions for her team to follow her down the hall to a quieter corner. She turns, looking each of them in the eye, feeling a surge of gratitude mixed with anticipation. “Udina was right about one thing. I’m going to need a crew. And I’d like all of you on it.”

They exchange glances, each of them knowing the stakes, but Alexis can still see the flicker of surprise in their expressions.

Kaidan speaks first, his loyalty unwavering. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Commander.” Alexis meets his steady gaze, nodding gratefully.

Ashley straightens and gives a crisp salute. “As long as you’re still serving the Alliance and sticking it to Saren, I’m there.” Alexis acknowledges her with a subtle nod; the tension between them could wait for now.

Garrus crosses his arms, a grin tugging at the corner of his mandibles. “I said I’d be there when you took Saren down, and I intend to keep that promise. Frankly, C-Sec can go screw itself. I’m not missing this.”

Alexis chuckles at his bluntness, feeling the camaraderie between them grow stronger. Then Wrex lets out a hearty laugh. “You’ve gotten into more trouble in the last few hours than most people do in years. No way I’m missing that.”

Finally, Alexis turns to Tali. The young Quarian’s gaze softens with gratitude but holds a flicker of uncertainty. She is still weighing the risks of joining what could easily be a fatal mission. Alexis softens her tone, speaking in Khelish. “It’s an offer, Tali, not an order. You can return to your Pilgrimage if you want.”

Tali looks down, her fingers tapping absently at her omni-tool, then nods resolutely. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you stop, Saren. I want my Pilgrimage to mean something—not just for our people, but for everyone.”

Under her helmet, Alexis grins, a warmth spreading through her that she hasn’t felt in a long time. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.” It meant more than she could admit, knowing people she had just met but were still willing to put their trust in her and face this fight beside her.

Alexis stands with her companions as they ride the elevator up to Normandy’s docking bay. The journey is silent, her mind racing through possibilities as she replays Captain Anderson's cryptic message in her head: 

"Shepard, Come to the Normandy’s docking bay ASAP."

No explanation, no context—only urgency. She doesn’t hesitate to change course, leading her team back to the ship’s dock with purposeful strides. But the Citadel’s elevators, as always, take their own unhurried pace. Alexis mutters something under her breath, barely able to contain her frustration. It’s as if the Protheans who built this place had some cruel sense of humour, making the galaxy’s hub run on sloth-speed elevators.

In the confined space of the elevator, Alexis feels Tali’s gaze on her. There’s an unspoken question in Tali’s silence—curiosity mixed with a kind of kinship that runs deeper than words. Tali is still adapting, much like Alexis had to when she left her childhood behind, and there’s an understanding there. Alexis gives Tali a reassuring nod. She knows what it's like to carry the hopes of her people on her shoulders, even as an outsider.
At the same time, Kaidan and Garrus talk about going after Saren and how he was one of the most respected Turians in the galaxy and making sure Garrus has no reservations.

Finally, the doors open with a soft chime, revealing the Normandy docked ahead, poised like a silent sentinel. The blue nebula glows around the Citadel in soft hues, casting a surreal light on Ambassador Udina and Captain Anderson, who are deep in conversation. They both straighten as Alexis steps into view, the weight of her new role heavy in the silence that stretches between them.

“Shepard,” Udina begins, his voice as clipped as ever, “I’ve got big news for you.” He gestures almost carelessly to Anderson. “Captain Anderson is stepping down as commanding officer of the Normandy. The ship is yours, Commander.”

For a moment, Alexis can’t find her voice. Her mouth opens, but no words come out as her mind races to make sense of what she just heard. Anderson’s voice breaks the silence, grounding her.

“She’s the perfect ship for a Spectre, Shepard. Quick and quiet, and you already know the crew. You’ll need the Normandy if you’re going to take down Saren.”

“With all due respect, sir, I can’t accept the Normandy. She’s your ship,” she manages, her voice faltering despite herself. Her gaze drops to the deck as her fingers flex at her sides, the idea of commanding the Normandy hitting her like a cold wave. Not even a week ago, she’d been running special ops missions with her squad, and now, she was looking at command of the most advanced ship in the Alliance.

But Anderson’s voice is firm, final. “It’s already been decided, Shepard. You need a ship, and I can better serve the Alliance elsewhere. A Spectre can’t answer to anyone but the Council, so having me continue as Captain of the Normandy would only be another hurdle in your way.” Anderson steps forward, hand raised in salute, his eyes holding the weight of years—and, she realises, an unspoken pride in her. “Treat her well, Commander.”

The gesture strikes Alexis deeply, almost painfully. The salute is a symbol of faith, trust that she will lead and protect this ship and its crew. She feels the weight of that trust like a tangible burden on her shoulders—one she will carry, one she has to carry. She lifts her hand in return, her voice steady, though she’s surprised by the tremor in it. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.”

The words are simple, but the promise beneath them is anything but. In her mind, she’s back on the ship Mari'Saalas had once worked on for passage with her, her mother’s voice in her ear, telling her that a captain’s duty is not to be taken lightly, that it’s more than just a title. It’s the responsibility for every soul aboard, and their fates are tied to her own. She remembers how Mari would show her the workings of the ship, the rituals of repair and maintenance—how to respect a vessel that gives its crew a home in the void of space. The Normandy would be more than a ship. She had to be a protector, a guide, and a part of their lives. Alexis straightens her shoulders, the weight of the moment settling in. She’s ready for this. Finally, she looks to Anderson, and there’s something softer in her eyes now. A quiet thank you that goes beyond words. Anderson just nods, a slight smile touching his lips before he steps aside, allowing Alexis to move forward—to take command. “Any news on Saren?” she asks.

Anderson’s face darkens. “He’s gone. Don’t even try to find him. You’ve got one advantage over him. You know what he’s after: the Conduit. There’ve been dozens of reports of Geth all over the Traverse searching for something. We have to assume they’re all working for Saren.”

Before Alexis can respond, Udina hands her a datapad. “There were reports of Geth in the Feros system shortly before our colony there went completely dark,” he says bluntly. “And there have been sightings around Noveria.” His voice grows wary. “Careful if you plan to go there. It’s outside Council jurisdiction, and the corporations aren’t friendly to curious minds.”

Anderson’s steady gaze meets hers. “Find out what Saren wants at each. Maybe you can figure out where the Conduit is before he does.”

She listens, nodding as she absorbs the leads, but one question gnaws at her mind. “And the Reapers?” she asks. “Any sign of why Saren wants them back?”

Udina’s expression darkens. “I’m with the Council on this one. I’m not even sure if they exist.”

Anderson cuts in, his face set in the hard lines of an experienced soldier. “If there’s even a chance they do, the Conduit is the key to bringing them back. Stop Saren from getting it, and we’ll stop the Reapers from returning.”

With a deep breath, Alexis squares her shoulders. “Any other leads?”

“Matriarch Benezia,” Udina responds. “The other voice in the recording. She has a daughter. An archaeologist who studies Protheans. Maybe she knows something.” He pauses, expression sceptical. “Her name’s Liara T’Soni. Rumour has it she’s on an uncharted world in the Artemis Tau cluster.”

Alexis considers, weighing her options. Her gut tells her to find the doctor first—she could know something that even Saren doesn’t. She nods to herself. “I’ll go after the doctor first. Maybe she can lead us straight to Saren.”

Anderson nods approvingly. “You’re a Spectre now, Shepard. You don’t answer to us, only to the Council.”

Udina cuts in immediately, his voice hard. “But don’t forget, your actions still reflect on Humanity. You make a mess, and I’m stuck cleaning it up.”

Alexis’s jaw clenches, and her voice comes out through gritted teeth, low and steady. “I’ll do my best to make your job easier then, Ambassador.”

“Glad to hear it, Commander. And remember: you were a Human long before you were a Spectre,” Udina says, his tone pointed as he shoots her a sharp look. He turns on his heel, his words a final, stinging reminder before he leaves her standing there.

Alexis doesn’t dare look at her fist, clenched at her side. She feels the impulse building—the urge to remind Udina that she’s more than just a "human representative," more than his political pawn. She’s not just wearing the badge for Humanity; she’s carrying the weight of her entire upbringing, of a life spent caught between two worlds. She takes a slow breath, steadying herself, resisting the urge to test her new Spectre status by decking an ambassador.

Anderson steps forward, his gaze softening as he catches her eye, a small, reassuring smile breaking through the tension. “Good luck, Shepard. We’re counting on you.”

The sincerity in his voice cuts through her frustration, a reminder of what really matters. Alexis takes a breath, her hand unclenching, and nods at Anderson. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.” She means it—not for Udina, not just for Humanity, but for everyone who’s put their trust in her, including the family she’s chosen to fight for.

Anderson’s salute is sharp and full of trust. “You’ll get Saren, Shepard. I know you will.”

She watches him disappear down the elevator before turning to the airlock, the Normandy waiting before her like an unspoken promise. As the hatch opens, she feels a swell of emotion, pride edged with doubt and a thousand unspoken questions. But she takes a deep breath, stepping onto the Normandy with her team by her side.

“Right. There’s no time like the present,” she says, her voice steadying, filled with purpose.

It takes Alexis nearly an hour to move her few personal items to the Captain's quarters. Each trip feels strange, as though she’s intruding on someone else’s space. The quarters are spacious, far more than she’s used to, with the added luxury of a private bathroom fully equipped with decon and sterilisation—gear she knows she’ll appreciate, even if it feels like another reminder of Anderson's absence. Still, despite the uncomfortable upgrade, she knows the necessity of this shift for the mission.

Finally finished, she strides towards the cockpit, nodding to crew members as she passes, each greeting pulling her further into her new role. Joker’s voice greets her before she even stops behind his seat.

“Survives a hundred battles, only to be taken down by backroom politics. Figures,” he mutters, adjusting his controls but sparing her a glance.

Alexis nods, sighing softly. “I needed a ship but didn’t want to take it from Anderson. But if we’re going after Saren, we need the best.”

Joker’s tone turns wry. “If I were you, I’d watch my back. Though with your track record, I’d give it a week before you’ve got Saren dead to rights.” He turns, catching her expression as she gazes into the void outside the cockpit, unreadable. “Feeling up to making an inspiring speech?”

She raises an eyebrow. “A speech? Do you think I have one of those up my sleeve? You know me better than that.”

“Pfft.” He scoffs, grinning. “You can pull a speech off the top of your head, and that’s better than most people do with weeks of planning. If I can sit through one of the Admiralty Board’s lectures on ‘Proper Starship Formation,’ I can listen to you all day.”

Alexis rolls her eyes, letting out a soft sigh. “Fine. Open up the intercom.”

Joker grins, tapping a small button on his console, and Alexis clears her throat, feeling the weight of the crew’s ears on her shoulders.

“This is Commander Shepard,” she begins. “I know some of you are still processing Captain Anderson stepping down as CO. Believe me, I’m feeling the same way. But we have to move past it. We have orders to bring down Saren and stop him before he gets to the Conduit. I believe in this mission, and I believe in this crew. Saren will stop at nothing, but we’ll be ready for him every step of the way.”

She pauses, letting the significance of their task settle. “Saren knows we’re coming, and he’ll throw everything he has at us. But we’ll fight because we have to—for every species in Citadel space. Saren will be stopped. I promise you that.” She takes a breath, finalising her words. “Shepard, out.”

Joker clicks the intercom off and starts clapping. “See? That’s a speech you’d follow into the jaws of the abyss. Saren won’t know what hit him.”

Alexis smiles, his words lifting her spirits. “Thanks, Joker. That was just what I needed to hear.”

As Alexis turns away, she heads back to the CO’s quarters, hoping to catch a little rest before they reach the Artemis Tau cluster. The weight of her new responsibilities seems to press on her with every step—commanding the Normandy, leading the mission to stop Saren. Sleep feels distant, but she knows she’ll need her strength for what’s to come. As she steps out of the lift, her thoughts are interrupted when she nearly collides with Tali, who’s standing right outside her quarters.

“Keelah!” Tali gasps, drawing back in surprise, her eyes widening behind her visor.

Alexis chuckles softly, raising her hands in a gesture of apology. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she says, quickly switching to Khelish, the melodic language of the Quarians. “You’re not intruding—come on in.” She steps aside, gesturing for Tali to enter.

Tali hesitates for a moment before stepping into the cabin, her gaze drifting around the room as she pauses in the centre. Her fingers fidget with her omni-tool, an almost subconscious movement, betraying her uncertainty. “I, uh, just wanted to thank you again, you know, for saving my life and everything.” Her voice wavers, and she glances around, her eyes lingering on the unfamiliar surroundings with a mix of admiration and apprehension. “And for letting me join your crew. I know not everyone would have done the same.”

Alexis tilts her head, watching Tali closely. There’s something in her posture that reminds Alexis of herself when she was younger—feeling out of place, standing on the fringes of a world that wasn’t quite hers. The Normandy had its share of Quarian-friendly faces, but the galaxy was still a harsh place for Quarians.

“It was the right thing to do,” Alexis says, her voice softening as she tries to convey sincerity. “Besides, you’re already proving invaluable to the team.” She crosses her arms, leaning into the back of the couch.

Tali’s voice drops, her tone carrying a deeper vulnerability. “But that’s just it—not everyone would have seen it that way.” She looks down, the faint glow of her visor highlighting her expression. “I appreciate that you treat me as an equal here.”

Her words strike a chord in Alexis. For a brief moment, she’s back in her childhood, standing beside her adoptive mother on a ship full of Quarians—being treated as one of their own, but never truly fitting the mold. There was always a sense of trying to prove herself, of bridging the gap between what she was and what she aspired to be. That constant need to prove her worth had shaped her in ways she was only now starting to fully understand.

“No one’s given you any trouble, right?” Alexis asks, her gaze narrowing, a protective edge creeping into her voice.

Tali shakes her head quickly, her hands pausing in their nervous motion. “No, no. Engineer Adams welcomed me right away. A few crew members give me looks, but I can handle that.”

“Good,” Alexis says firmly, her eyes softening as she pushes off from the desk. “But if anyone does give you a hard time, you come straight to me.”

Tali looks up, her stance relaxing. There’s something almost shy in her posture as she says, “You’re one of a kind, Alexis’Shepard. I remember hearing about the human who tried to join the Fleet. Never thought I’d meet her.”

Alexis blinks, momentarily taken aback. Her cheeks warm, and she shifts slightly, her fingers running against the cloth of her bodysuits over layer. “Oh? Hopefully, nothing too dramatic.”

Tali chuckles, a small laugh escaping her as she shakes her head. “No, nothing bad. Mostly stories of your… persistence. I think if the Admirals had given you a chance, they’d have seen you the way I do. Besides,” she adds, her voice lightening, a playful edge creeping in, “how many of them can say they stood up to the Council like you did?”

Alexis feels her throat tighten, a flicker of emotion catching her off guard. Gratitude, pride, a feeling that she’s not alone in this struggle. She’d heard similar reassurances from her mother, Mari’Saalas, but hearing it from Tali—a young Quarian who had chosen to put her trust in her, to stand by her in a fight that could cost them everything—meant something deeper. It was the kind of validation that could only come from someone who understood.

“Thank you, Tali. Really,” Alexis says, her voice dipping into something softer, more honest.

Tali’s eyes brighten behind her visor, and she steps forward, giving Alexis’s shoulder a brief but firm squeeze—a gesture that conveys both friendship and solidarity. Her gaze wanders to the pile of personal belongings stacked in the corner of Alexis’s cabin, items that haven’t yet found a proper place amidst her new responsibilities. Alexis follows her line of sight and feels her heart skip a beat when she realizes what Tali’s spotted.

“You have Fleet and Flotilla: Extended Edition?” Tali’s voice is filled with a mix of surprise and excitement, a rare openness breaking through her usual measured tone.

Alexis hesitates, her gaze flickering toward the old film case. She nods, bracing for a reaction she can’t quite predict. “I… yeah, I do. It was a gift from my mother.”

To her surprise, Tali lets out a delighted squeal, her excitement bubbling over as she all but launches herself onto the small couch in Alexis’s quarters. “I haven’t seen the extended version! They say it includes the scenes that inspired the stage musical!”

Alexis blinks, caught off guard for a moment, then lets out a laugh—a genuine, warm sound that fills the small room. The tension of the last few hours seems to ease, the heaviness lifting off her shoulders. “I’ve only watched it once myself—didn’t exactly have time to settle in and enjoy it. But if you want… we could watch it together?”

Tali’s nod is immediate, almost eager, and Alexis can’t help but grin as the excitement radiates from her friend. She catches a faint blush blooming on Tali’s cheeks, visible through the visor thanks to Alexis’s childhood enhancements—genetic tweaks that allowed her to see in the ultraviolet, a necessary modification for her life among the Quarians.

“I’d love that!” Tali says, the words rushing out before she suddenly stops, a flash of uncertainty crossing her expression. In her excitement, she throws her arms around Alexis, hugging her tightly in an unrestrained show of joy. She pulls back quickly, her voice stumbling as she tries to apologize. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

But Alexis doesn’t let her finish, instead reaching out and pulling Tali back into a hug, her arms wrapping around her friend with warmth. “You don’t need to ask,” Alexis murmurs, her voice soft. “I’ve missed this closeness. Sometimes… humans feel too distant.”

Tali relaxes against her, her head resting lightly on Alexis’s shoulder. The two of them sit like that for a moment, letting the embrace stretch into something quiet and comforting—something that reminds Alexis of home. It’s an unspoken connection, a shared understanding that transcends words.

In this moment, with Tali beside her, Alexis feels a sense of belonging that’s hard to come by—a sense that she’s found her place among people who truly see her for who she is. Quarian, human, Spectre—it doesn’t matter. What matters is the trust, the bonds they forge, and the promise they’ve made to face whatever comes next, together.

Chapter 4: IV

Summary:

The Normandy heads for Therum

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

IV

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

"Scan it again."

Alexis stands firmly in the centre of the CIC, her gaze locked onto the holographic display projecting the planet below. The ambient glow bathes her armour in soft blue light, shadows accentuating her firm stance with only her eyes visible through the visor. The Normandy's systems hum around her, a symphony of technology that usually brings comfort but today only amplifies her tension.

They have already scanned the planet twice, and the data confirmed the same grim reality each time. But Alexis needs to be certain that there isn't another way.

"Commander," Navigator Pressley interjects gently, though his tone carries an undercurrent of urgency. "We can't get any closer. The Geth will shoot the Normandy straight out of the sky if we do."

Pressley has been trying to convince her that a direct drop onto the dig site is impossible for the past hour. Alexis is notoriously stubborn, a trait that had propelled her through N-School, where impossible missions became her speciality. But even she has to admit when the odds were insurmountable.

She clenches her fists and stares intently at the data scrolling across the screen. "There's got to—" Her voice trails off as she finally looks up, meeting Pressley's steady, unyielding gaze. The sternness in his eyes mirrors the weight of command they both share, albeit in different capacities.

A moment of silence passes between them, thick with unspoken respect and the lingering strain of their professional relationship. Alexis exhales slowly, the tension easing from her shoulders. "Fine. Mako it is."

Pressley gives a curt nod, relief subtly softening his features. "Understood, Commander. We'll have it prepped immediately."

Without another word, Alexis turns on her heel and marches toward the elevator, her strides purposeful. The metallic clang of her boots against the deck echoes her frustration, each step a beat in the drum of her simmering impatience.

As the elevator descends into the bowels of Normandy, the quiet hum seems louder than usual, amplifying her restless thoughts. It has taken them nearly half a day to determine which system Dr. Liara T'Soni is in. The search was painstaking, sifting through scattered reports and faint energy readings until all signs pointed to Therum—a small, mineral-rich world teeming with geothermal activity.

Therum's landscape is harsh and unforgiving, its surface scarred by ancient volcanic eruptions and dotted with Prothean ruins. It is the perfect place for an archaeologist specialising in Prothean culture to lose herself in her work. When they'd intercepted a distress signal from the Doctor herself, a spark of hope had ignited within Alexis. But that hope was quickly overshadowed by the reality of their situation.

The Geth are there.

Whether they are after Liara or simply guarding the ruins is irrelevant. Their presence makes any direct approach suicidal. Even Joker, with all his piloting prowess, can't manoeuvre the Normandy through the dense anti-aircraft defences the Geth had established. Landing the Mako nearby is equally impossible; scans had revealed heavy Geth constructs—armatures and colossi—that could easily obliterate them upon entry.

The only viable option is to land at a significant distance and proceed overland in the Mako. It will be a rough journey through treacherous terrain, but Alexis sees no alternative.

As the elevator continues its descent, its monotonous drone seems to mock her urgency. Alexis crosses her arms, her fingers drumming impatiently against her armoured bicep as she considers who to bring on the mission.

Tali is an obvious choice. Her expertise with technology and hacking will be invaluable against the Geth. She can disrupt their systems, disable shields, and even turn their own defences against them. Alexis can't imagine facing synthetic enemies without the young Quarian's skills at their side.

That left two more seats.

Wrex comes to mind. The Krogan was a formidable force—brutal in combat and nearly indestructible. His dry humour and no-nonsense attitude have grown on her, and she appreciates his straightforward approach. But his preference for close-quarters combat would be a liability on this mission. The path to the ruins was long and exposed, favouring long-range engagements. Bringing Wrex might put him at a disadvantage, and Alexis wouldn't risk any of her team unnecessarily.

Garrus was another option. The Turians' sharpshooting skills were exceptional, and their tactical minds had proven useful. However, she still harboured reservations about his motives. His desire to take down Saren bordered on obsession, and she worried that personal vendettas might cloud his judgment. But perhaps this mission could be an opportunity to test his reliability.

Ashley is dependable—a seasoned soldier with a strong sense of duty. Despite some underlying tension and her occasional prejudice against non-humans, Alexis trusted her to stay focused on the mission. She hoped that working alongside Tali and Garrus might help bridge some of those divides.

When the elevator doors slide open with a soft hiss, her decision is made: Tali, Garrus, and Ashley will accompany her. Kaidan will remain on the Normandy, ready to lead the Marine squads if necessary.

The cargo bay bustles with activity as crew members prepare the Mako for deployment. The vehicle sits in the centre of the bay, its armoured hull gleaming under the bright lights. Alexis makes her way to the armoury, methodically checking her weapons. The familiar weight of her weapons brings a sense of grounding amidst the chaos of her thoughts.

As Alexis secures her gear, she hears the soft shuffle of boots approaching from behind. Turning, she spots Ashley standing a few paces away, her expression hesitant, conflicted.

"Commander," Ashley begins cautiously, her stance stiff but her eyes giving away the tension beneath.

Alexis arches an eyebrow, her voice calm but curious. "Something on your mind, Chief?"

Ashley hesitates, her gaze dropping briefly to the deck before meeting Alexis's eyes. "I have... concerns about the mission."

"Go ahead," Alexis says evenly, keeping her voice open. "I value my team's input."

Ashley takes a deep breath, clearly bracing herself for what she’s about to say. "Are you sure it's wise to bring the Quarian and the Turian along? This is a critical mission, and we're on an Alliance ship. Maybe it should just be us—Alliance personnel."

Alexis feels a flicker of irritation, a familiar pang that resonates deeply with her. She’s heard these sentiments before—the doubt, the skepticism. It’s something she lived through countless times as a child, always having to prove herself and her worth while growing up around Quarians who, like her, often faced unfair scrutiny and mistrust from others. Her eyes narrow slightly, and her voice takes on an edge. "Is there a problem with their performance, Chief?"

"No, ma'am, it's not that," Ashley replies quickly, her tone earnest but tinged with uncertainty. "I just... worry about their loyalties. We don’t know them that well, and this mission is too important to risk complications."

"Complications," Alexis repeats, her voice cooling, her arms crossing over her chest. The word stings—she knows exactly what it feels like to be seen as a complication. She remembers all the times she and her mother faced that same suspicion from those who didn’t understand or trust their way of life. “Chief, the only complications I see are unnecessary doubts about our team members.”

Ashley straightens, her eyes hardening slightly, a hint of defiance sparking there. "I just think we should be cautious, Commander. With everything at stake, we can't afford mistakes."

Alexis takes a step closer, her gaze locking onto Ashley’s, her voice dropping to a firm but measured tone. "Caution is important, Chief. But trust is what makes us strong. Tali risked her life to bring us evidence against Saren. Garrus gave up his post at C-Sec to fight for what he believes in. They chose to be here, to stand with us—and I trust them." Alexis pauses, her voice softening but not losing its intensity, a hint of Khelish slipping into her tone. "I was raised by people who were always questioned, doubted, treated as less-than. I will not allow that on my crew. I need every person on this team to trust each other implicitly. That means putting aside personal biases. I will not tolerate any form of disrespect or discrimination toward any member of this crew. Is that understood?"

Ashley’s jaw tightens, her fingers curling slightly at her side before she forces herself to relax. She gives a small, almost reluctant nod. "Yes, ma'am. Understood."

"Good," Alexis says, her voice losing some of its edge but her gaze still unwavering. "Prepare your gear. We leave shortly."

"Ma'am." Ashley gives a sharp nod, turning briskly on her heel and marching away.

Alexis watches her go, her expression softening into something closer to a sigh. She knows these tensions need addressing sooner rather than later—there can be no room for distrust on her team. Every member has a role, every voice matters, and they all need to see that. She unclenches her jaw, letting out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. There’s work to be done, but she’s used to that. Her mother always said that nothing worth doing came without challenge, and it was often the hardest moments that defined you.

Leaving the armoury, Alexis makes her way toward engineering, where the steady hum of the Normandy’s drive core reverberates through the air, a familiar thrum that feels almost comforting. It reminds her of the older ships she grew up around—the constant hum of machinery, the sense that a ship was alive, a member of the family. Engineers move about, running diagnostics, checking readouts, their voices blending into the background—a harmony of purpose, of life shared aboard a vessel in the vast void.

Tali stands at a console, her fingers moving deftly across the interface, streams of data scrolling by at a rapid pace. She seems utterly absorbed, her stance relaxed, the blue glow of the monitor reflecting off her visor.

"Ready to go, Tali?" Alexis asks, stepping closer, her voice warm, slipping into Khelish instinctively as she approaches.

Tali glances up, her eyes brightening behind her mask at the familiar language. "Just a moment, Commander. I'm detecting a variance in the core's output. Adjusting now." Her voice is focused, carrying an edge of excitement—it’s clear she’s in her element here.

From across the room, Engineer Adams looks up sharply, his eyes widening slightly as his translator catches up. "Wait—Tali, be careful with—"

But before he can finish, Tali's fingers tap a final key, executing the adjustment. The drive core's hum shifts subtly, the readings stabilising into optimal ranges. The change is small but effective, almost imperceptible but significant to those who know what they’re looking at.

Adams blinks, his expression morphing from concern to a grin of admiration. "Well, I'll be damned. You just increased our efficiency by point five percent."

Tali tilts her head modestly, her fingers brushing over the console as if it were a living thing. "It’s a minor correction. The fluctuations were within acceptable parameters, but I thought it could be improved."

"Minor?” Adams laughs, shaking his head. “That kind of improvement is impressive. Glad to have you on board, Tali.”

Alexis smiles, stepping up beside her. "Seems you're making quite the impact already."

Tali shrugs lightly, but there’s a hint of pride in her stance. "I'm just happy to help. The Normandy is an incredible ship. Working on a vessel where the technology is so... cooperative is a pleasure. It’s different from the ships I grew up around. There was always something needing patching, something demanding attention."

Alexis nods, her smile widening at Tali’s enthusiasm. "I get that. The ships my mother worked on were always held together by more willpower and creativity than proper materials." There’s a softness in her eyes as she continues. “But here, with people like you, we’re building something better—together.”

Tali looks at her, her eyes glistening slightly behind her visor. "It's an honor to be part of that, Commander."

"As it is to have you here," Alexis says, her voice sincere. She pauses for a moment, glancing at Tali before continuing, a more personal note entering her tone. "I know what it feels like to be seen as an outsider, to have to prove yourself, to earn a place when others doubt you. You belong here, Tali. We’re a crew."

Tali’s eyes soften at the words, a smile evident. As they walk together toward the cargo bay, Alexis feels a familiar warmth spread through her—a sense of belonging that she hadn’t always been certain she’d find again. Growing up around Quarians had taught her about resilience, about finding family beyond blood ties, about how a group could come together under shared circumstances and build something greater than themselves. The Normandy was different, but the spirit of it—the connection among its crew—felt similar. It was becoming a place she could call home.

When they enter the cargo bay, Alexis glances at Tali again, catching her looking around, taking in the Normandy with the same quiet awe that Alexis herself had often felt as a child, stepping into new ships, seeing new possibilities. Alexis grins, her voice teasing. “Everything still too quiet for you, Tali?”

Tali chuckles, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. “If something doesn’t start clanking soon, I might have to purposely misalign something just to feel at home.”

Alexis laughs, the sound carrying through the bay, her heart lighter for a moment. "Well, let’s hope it stays quiet—for a while, at least."

Tali’s posture relaxes, a sense of ease settling over her. “Thank you, Commander. For trusting me enough to be part of this. It means more than I can say.”

Alexis meets her gaze, her voice filled with warmth. “You’ve earned your place here.”

Tali’s eyes glisten again, and she nods. "Keelah Se’lai, Alexis’Shepard." There’s a depth to the way she says it this time—something unspoken that acknowledges everything Alexis is carrying, the history they both share.

Before Alexis can really respond beyond a nod, they are at the Mako, where Garrus double-checks the vehicle's calibrations. He looks up as they approach and gives a slight nod.

"All systems are green," he reports.

"Excellent," Alexis replies. "Time to get this show on the road."

Ashley joins them, her expression composed but her eyes avoiding Tali and Garrus. Alexis notes it silently, filing it away for later.

"Everyone aboard," she commands.

They climb into the Mako, and Alexis takes the driver's seat. The interior is cramped but familiar, so she powered up the controls, and the console lit up under her fingertips.

Over the comms, Joker's voice crackles to life. "We're approaching the drop zone, Commander. LZ is as close as we can get you without becoming a Geth target."

"Understood," Alexis replies. "We'll handle it from here."

"Try to bring my Mako back in one piece," Joker quips.

"No promises," she shoots back with a smirk.

The bay doors begin to open, revealing the harsh landscape of Therum below. Rivers of molten lava cuts through the jagged terrain, and plumes of steam rise from the fissures. The sky is a haze of ash and heat, casting everything in a reddish hue.

The Mako roars out of the Normandy like a bullet, the sudden acceleration pressing them back into their seats. The vehicle plunges toward Therum's rocky surface, the pull of gravity and the planet's harsh atmosphere buffeting them from all sides. The hum of the mass effect field strains to keep them stabilised amidst the chaos.

Alexis grips the controls with the confidence of someone who's done this a thousand times, her body leaning forward instinctively as she guides the vehicle through the descent. The vibrations reverberate through her hands, but she remains steady, eyes sharp on the terrain ahead.

Beside her, Garrus clenches the edge of his seat, mandibles flaring slightly as he glances sideways at her. "Is it... supposed to feel like we're free-falling?" he asks, his tone hovering between impressed and alarmed.

Alexis doesn't even glance over, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "That's called adrenaline, Vakarian. Enjoy it; this is the best part."

Behind them, Ashley's expression is tense, her hands braced against the console in front of her. Her eyes flicker to the view outside—the ground rushing up to meet them. "With respect, Commander, there's a fine line between adrenaline and insanity. Kaidan did mention... something about a flip?"

"Oh, Kaidan's just mad I spooked him that one time," Alexis chuckles, her fingers dancing over the controls as she adjusts their trajectory. "This? This is the fun part." Her eyes gleam behind her visor, a mixture of focus and exhilaration.

Tali's voice crackles over the intercom, a hint of nervousness breaking through her usual composure. "Alexis, you're sure this is the safest way down?"

"Trust me, Tali," Alexis replies, her voice steady. "We'll be on solid ground before you know it."

“That's what I'm worried about,” Tali mutters under breath.

The ground rushes up toward them, a landscape of jagged cliffs and barren, metallic-hued dirt. Alexis tightens her grip on the controls, feeling the power beneath her fingertips, and smoothly fires the thrusters. The Mako decelerates, still coming in fast, and her squad holds their breath as the vehicle hurtles toward a plateau.

The impact rocks everyone in their seats as the Mako makes contact, the shock-absorbing fields catching most of the force—but it’s still enough to knock the wind out of the passengers. The vehicle bounces, wheels spinning in the air as Alexis adjusts, landing them with a hard jolt on all six tyres.

Alexis lets out a satisfied breath, glancing around at her squad, barely suppressing a smirk at their reactions. Tali has a hand on her chest, letting out a shaky exhale; Garrus releases his grip on the seat, looking impressed despite himself. Ashley’s stare is half disbelief, half relief.

Alexis grins, patting the console with pride. “See? Smooth as silk.”

Tali raises a brow beneath her visor. “Silk. Right. More like… burning metal. But I’ll give it to you, Alexis—that was effective.”

“Effective?” Garrus mutters, leaning forward with a slight smile. “That was either the best piloting I’ve ever seen, or you’re secretly insane. Maybe both.”

Alexis just grins as she adjusts her gloves on the controls, glancing around the barren landscape ahead of them. Dark clouds loom in the distance, and she can make out the faint shimmer of Geth drones patrolling a ridge far ahead. "I might go with both, and we’ve got company.” 

It isn't long before they encounter the first Geth patrol. The rocky terrain of Therum stretches out before them, jagged cliffs and rivers of molten lava creating a hellish landscape bathed in crimson light. Alexis grips the controls of the Mako tightly, her eyes scanning the horizon through the armoured viewport. The sudden glint of metal catches her eye—a squad of Geth soldiers moving methodically across a ridge.

"Hold on," Alexis mutters, bringing the Mako to a screaming halt just before the synthetics can spot them. The vehicle's brakes hiss and she quickly reverses behind an outcropping of blackened rock, the Mako's engines purring softly as they settle into cover.

Beside her, Tali is already bringing up her omni-tool, the holographic interface casting a pale glow on her visor. "Give me a moment," she says, her fingers dancing across the interface. Streams of code scroll rapidly as she hacks into the Geth's network, seeking vulnerabilities.

The air inside the Mako is tense. The only sounds are the soft hum of the engine, and the distant bubbling of lava flows. Garrus and Ashley exchange glances, weapons at the ready.

"Got it," Tali announces, her eyes flashing with satisfaction behind her visor. "I've disrupted their shields."

Alexis nods sharply. "Good work." Without wasting a second, she slams her foot down on the accelerator. The Mako surges forward, tyres spinning briefly before gripping the rough ground. She swings the vehicle around the corner with such speed that the right-side wheels leave the ground, the massive tank tilting precariously as it hugs the edge of the cliff.

"Whoa!" Garrus exclaims, gripping the handle above his seat. "Easy there, Commander!"

But Alexis is in her element. She fires the Mako's main cannon, the recoil jarring the vehicle but also helping to stabilise it. The blast hits the Geth patrol head-on, scattering them like bowling pins. Secondary machine guns roar to life, spitting a hail of bullets that tear through the synthetic soldiers.

The Geth attempt a counterattack, their energy bolts streaking towards the Mako, but the vehicle's shields absorb the impacts, shimmering briefly with each hit. Alexis keeps firing, her face set in grim determination. One by one, the Geth fall, their metal bodies clattering against the rocks.

As the last of the patrol is reduced to sparking scrap, Alexis eases off the accelerator. The Mako thuds back onto all six wheels, settling with a groan of hydraulics.

She glances over at Tali, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. "Not that bad a driver, am I?"

Tali clutches the edge of her seat with one hand, the other pressed against her chest. "If by 'not bad' you mean 'almost gave me a heart attack,' then sure!"

Alexis laughs, the tension easing. "Almost giving heart attacks, not actually giving them—that's a success in my book."

Garrus leans forward from the back seat, mandibles twitching in what might be a Turian grin. "Remind me never to get in a vehicle with you behind the wheel back on the Citadel."

The Mako continues its journey toward the dig site, the path narrowing between towering cliffs and the glowing river of lava. Alexis eyes the terrain ahead, frustration creeping in. "I wish we could take a shortcut," she muses. "But unless this thing can sprout wings, we're stuck on this path."

"Maybe put in a request for a flying Mako when we get back," Ashley suggests wryly.

"Noted," Alexis replies with a smirk.

They press on, encountering more groups of Geth along the way. Alexis opts for more conventional tactics this time, engaging them from a distance with the Mako's formidable arsenal. Explosions rock the landscape as Geth units are obliterated, plumes of smoke rising into the ashen sky.

After a particularly sharp turn, a heavy silence settles over the squad. The only sound is the rumble of the Mako's engine and the distant hissing of volcanic vents. Suddenly, Tali's voice cuts through the quiet, urgent and high-pitched. "Colossus! Dead ahead!"

Alexis's eyes snap forward. Standing in their path is a massive Geth Colossus, its towering form bristling with weaponry. The behemoth's glowing eyes fix on them, and a low hum signals the charging of its main cannon.

"Hang on!" Alexis shouts, yanking the controls. The Mako lurches backwards as a bright beam of energy slices through the space they'd occupied moments before, leaving a scorch mark on the ground.

The Colossus fires again, the projectile smashing into a rock formation near them, sending shards of stone pelting against the Mako's armour. Alexis steers them behind a larger outcropping, the vehicle shuddering as another blast shakes the ground.

"That thing will tear us apart in the open," Ashley warns, checking the ammo on her rifle.

Alexis's mind races. "Tali, can you take down its shields?"

Tali's fingers are already flying over her omni-tool. "I need time—its defences are heavily encrypted. And there are more Geth units around it. Even if I get the shields down, we're still outnumbered."

Alexis glances at her, noting the worry in Tali's voice—a rarity for the usually confident Quarian. She makes a quick decision. "Tali, keep working on those shields. Let me know the second they're down. Ashley, you're driving."

Before anyone can protest, Alexis grabs a rocket launcher from the rack and swings open Mako's door. The heat outside is oppressive, waves rolling off the nearby lava flows. She can feel the ground vibrating beneath her boots from the Colossus's footsteps.

"Commander, wait!" Garrus calls after her, but she is already moving.

Alexis sprints back along the path they'd come, using the terrain as cover. She reaches the base of a near-vertical cliff, her gaze tracing the jagged rocks upward. Slinging the rocket launcher over her back, she begins to climb, fingers finding holds in the cracked stone.

Inside the Mako, Tali grits her teeth. "Come on, come on," she whispers, decrypting layers of Geth code.

Ashley grips the controls, eyes flicking between the Colossus and the sensors. "Hold it together," she mutters.

Reaching the top of the cliff, Alexis flattens herself against the ground, breathing hard. The vantage point is perfect—she has a clear line of sight to the Colossus and the cluster of Geth around it. The massive synthetic is still focused on the Mako's last known position, firing relentlessly at the rock formation.

"On my signal, come around the corner and engage the Colossus," Alexis whispers into her comm.

"Copy that," Ashley's voice comes back, steady despite the circumstances.

Alexis unfolds the bipod of her sniper rifle, a customised M-97 Viper, and settles into position. Through the scope, she zeroes in on a Geth rocket trooper, its launcher poised to fire. She takes a slow breath, steadying her aim.

"Shields are down... now!" Tali's voice crackles in her ear.

Alexis squeezes the trigger. The rifle kicks against her shoulder as the shot pierces the air, striking the Geth square in the head. It collapses in a shower of sparks.

"Go!" she commands.

The Mako roars into view, cannons blazing. The first shell slams into the Colossus's central body, causing it to stagger. The Geth turn their attention toward the new threat, and chaos erupts.

Alexis swiftly takes out another rocket trooper, the Geth's numbers thinning under her precise shots. But her position is compromised—a rocket streaks past her, detonating nearby and showering her with debris.

"Time to move," she mutters.

She secures her sniper rifle and grabs the assault rifle slung across her back. With a deep breath, she leaps off the cliff, the wind rushing past as she descends. She hits the slope hard, sliding down the rocky surface in a controlled fall. Bullets and energy blasts zip by, but her shields hold.

At the base, she breaks into a sprint, weaving between the remaining Geth. She fires in short bursts, her shots tearing through synthetic armour. The Colossus looms ahead, its damaged form still formidable.

"Just a bit closer," Alexis mutters, eyes fixed on an exposed joint beneath the Colossus's massive cannon.

The Mako fires another round, the shell exploding against the Colossus's leg and causing it to buckle. Seizing the moment, Alexis drops to one knee, unslinging the rocket launcher.

The rocket streaks toward its target, a trail of smoke marking its path. It strikes the Colossus with a thunderous explosion, the blast wave knocking Alexis backwards. The Colossus emits a deep, mechanical groan as its core overloads. Flames erupt from within, and the massive construct collapses in a heap of twisted metal. The shockwave takes out the remaining Geth, their systems frying as they fall lifeless to the ground.

"Alexis! Are you okay?" Tali's voice comes through her earpiece, heavy with concern.

Breathing heavily, Alexis picks herself up, a satisfied smile on her face, "All good," she glances back at the wreckage, the flames casting flickering shadows across the battlefield.

"Commander! Over here!" Ashley calls from the Mako, relief evident in her voice.

Alexis jogs back to the vehicle, climbing into the driver's seat. The three occupants stare at her, a mix of awe and disbelief.

She raises an eyebrow. "What?"

Ashley shakes her head slowly. "You just took out a Colossus. On foot."

"Not entirely," Alexis replies modestly. "Tali took down the shields, and you guys softened it up. Team effort."

Tali lets out a breathy laugh. "Thank the ancestors. You're on our side, Alexis. That was incredible."

Garrus leans forward, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Alexis chuckles, starting the Mako's engine. "Don't worry, you're all stuck with me." Alexis settles back into the driver's seat, the familiar controls fitting comfortably under her hands. "Well, we still have a doctor to find. Let's get moving."

The Mako rumbles forward, its massive tyres crushing the rugged terrain beneath as they draw closer to their final destination. The oppressive heat of Therum radiates around them, waves of shimmering air distorting the horizon where the ancient Prothean ruins loom. Alexis grips the controls with a newfound intensity, deciding against further heroics after their last encounter. Instead, she channels her focus into manoeuvring the armoured tank with precision, using its formidable firepower to dispatch any Geth that dare cross their path.

"Looks like we're almost there," Garrus remarks, scanning the surroundings through the viewport. "No sign of any more Colossi, at least."

"Let's keep it that way," Alexis replies, her eyes never leaving the treacherous path ahead.

Just as the sense of relief begins to settle, alarms blare within the cockpit. "Incoming fire!" Ashley shouts, bracing herself.

Alexis reacts instantly, spinning the Mako 180 degrees. The vehicle skids across loose gravel, and the tyres dig in as she slams the accelerator, pushing them away from the sudden threat. Two Geth turrets have emerged from concealed positions atop a ridge, their barrels glowing ominously as they charge.

A bolt of searing energy streaks past, narrowly missing them. The second shot hits home, slamming into the Mako's side. The vehicle lurches violently, shield indicators flashing red before dimming entirely. Sparks fly from a console, and warning lights flicker across the dashboard.

"Shields are down!" Tali reports urgently, her voice tight with concern.

"Minor armour damage on the starboard side," Garrus adds, scanning the readouts. "We can't take another hit like that."

"Hang on!" Alexis yells, gripping the controls as she weaves the Mako through a cluster of jagged rocks, using the terrain to break line of sight. The turrets continue to fire, but their shots explode harmlessly against the natural cover.

Once she's certain they're out of immediate danger, Alexis brings the Mako to a halt behind a towering outcrop. The squad disembarks swiftly, the scorching air hitting them like a physical force as they step outside. The scent of sulfur and burning metal fills their lungs.

"Everyone okay?" Alexis asks, her gaze sweeping over her team.

"Still in one piece," Ashley replies, though her eyes betray the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Tali wastes no time, dropping to her knees beside the Mako. "I'll check underneath," she announces, already crawling beneath the vehicle. She opens a maintenance panel on the undercarriage, the internal components sparking and emitting wisps of smoke.

A deep sigh escapes her. "Oh, you bosh'tets..." she mutters, lapsing into a string of Khelish expletives that crackle over her suit's speakers. The words are too rapid for the translators, but the frustration in her tone is unmistakable.

Alexis raises an eyebrow, both impressed and amused by Tali's choice of language. "That bad, huh?"

Tali slides out partially, her visor tilted towards Alexis. "The Geth's plasma round overloaded the capacitors. The shielding matrix is completely fried. It'll take time to reroute and replace the damaged components."

"Can you repair it?" Alexis asks, concern edging her voice. The prospect of proceeding on foot—and getting the Mako back to the Normandy without shields—is less than ideal.

"I can," Tali affirms, "but it'll take a while. And even if I do, those turrets will tear us apart if we try to go through again."

Alexis clenches her fists, thinking rapidly. "Alright," she decides, turning to Ashley and Garrus. "While Tali gets the Mako back into fighting shape, we'll deal with those turrets."

Garrus nods, already checking his sniper rifle. "A frontal assault won't work. We need another approach."

Scanning the landscape, Alexis spots a narrow opening in the rock face nearby—a fissure leading into a shadowed ravine. "There," she points. "We can cut through that ravine, get behind the turrets, and take them out before the Geth know what's happening."

Ashley smirks, hefting her assault rifle. "Sounds like a plan, Commander."

Tali sits up, pulling out her omni-tool and grabbing the emergency repair kit from the Mako's storage. "I'll get started here," she says, her determination evident. "Be careful."

Alexis places a reassuring hand on Tali's shoulder. "We will. And Tali?" The Quarian looks up. "Good luck."

"Same to you," Tali replies, offering a small nod before sliding back under the Mako, humming a soft tune as she begins her repairs.

Without another word, Alexis leads the way toward the ravine, her assault rifle at the ready. The trio moves silently; the only sounds are the distant bubbling of lava flows and the crunch of gravel underfoot. The ravine twists and turns, its walls narrowing at points to barely allow them passage. Shadows play tricks on the eyes, and every curve feels like a potential ambush.

They reach a corner where the path widens slightly. Alexis gestures for them to halt, then cautiously peeks around the rocky outcrop. Ahead stands a high wall with a small gateway guarded by a lone Geth trooper. Its mechanical movements are precise, and the glowing photoreceptor scans the area methodically.

Alexis pulls back, considering their options. "No way to sneak past," she whispers. "Once one Geth spots us, the rest will know immediately."

"Could take it out from here," Garrus suggests, tapping his sniper rifle.

She shakes her head. "Risky. If we miss or don't destroy it instantly, it'll alert the others. We need to eliminate it quietly."

"What's the plan?" Ashley asks.

Alexis's eyes harden with resolve. "I'll take it out up close. You two follow as soon as it's down, and we'll push through before they can regroup."

Taking a deep breath, Alexis steadies herself. The weight of the situation presses on her, but she channels it into focus. She moves swiftly around the corner, footsteps silent against the stone. The Geth begins to turn, sensing movement, but she's faster. Closing the distance in a heartbeat, she lunges forward.

Her omni-blade extends with a flicker of blue light, slicing through the Geth's shields and plunging into its chassis. Sparks fly as circuits are severed. With a swift motion, she retracts the blade and spins, delivering a powerful kick that sends the synthetic crashing into the wall. The satisfying crunch of metal echoes softly.

Garrus and Ashley appear at her side, weapons ready. "Nicely done," Garrus remarks quietly.

"Let's keep moving," Alexis replies, her gaze fixed ahead.

They slip through the gateway into a sparsely furnished room—a staging area of sorts, with minimal equipment. From beyond the next doorway, the unmistakable sounds of Geth units mobilising reach their ears—the whir of servos, the clank of metallic feet.

Alexis signals for them to take cover behind a low barrier. Crouching, she reaches into her pack and retrieves a grenade, priming it silently. The tension is palpable; even the air seems to hold its breath.

Footsteps draw nearer. The Geth are approaching, their shadowed forms visible through gaps in the doorway. Alexis counts the beats of her heart, timing it perfectly. Just as the first Geth steps into the room, she tosses the grenade in a smooth arc.

The small sphere clatters against the far wall, drawing the attention of the synthetics. A split second later, it detonates in a brilliant flash. The shockwave rattles the barrier, a surge of heat washing over them.

"Now!" Alexis commands.

They rise as one, vaulting over the cover. Alexis fires mid-leap, her rounds piercing the smoke and striking a damaged Geth, finishing it off. Garrus and Ashley fan out beside her, their weapons unleashing controlled bursts that cut down any remaining hostiles.

Exiting the building, they find themselves in a larger open area. The two Geth turrets that nearly destroyed the Mako stand off to the left, their barrels ominously silent but unable to target infantry at such close range. Ahead, more Geth troops are advancing, alerted by the explosion.

"Take cover!" Alexis shouts, diving behind a stack of crates. Bullets and energy bolts whiz past, some ricocheting off nearby metal with sharp pings.

Peering around the edge, she spots a Geth aiming directly at her. She jerks back as a round grazes her helmet, leaving a shallow scratch across the visor. Her heart pounds, but fear sharpens her resolve.

"Hold here," she instructs. "I'll need some covering fire."

Garrus and Ashley exchange a brief glance, understanding the unspoken intent. "Be careful," Ashley cautions.

Alexis offers a faint smile. "Always am."

With that, she rolls out from cover, sprinting at an angle to the Geth's line of advance. Her sudden movement draws their attention, the synthetics adjusting their aim to track her. This is what she counted on.

Garrus steadies his sniper rifle atop the crate, his keen eyes selecting targets with lethal efficiency. "Got you covered," he mutters, squeezing the trigger. A Geth's head snaps back as his shot finds its mark.

Ashley unleashes a flurry of suppressive fire, her assault rifle chattering as she picks off enemies attempting to flank.

Alexis dashes between obstacles, her movements unpredictable. She slides behind a barrier, then vaults over it without breaking stride. The Geth's targeting algorithms struggle to predict her path, momentarily thrown off by her audacity.

She holsters her assault rifle mid-run, drawing her M-23 Katana shotgun. The weight of it is familiar and comforting. As she closes in on the nearest Geth, she leaps, firing point-blank into its chest. The kinetic blast tears through its armour, sending it crashing to the ground.

Continuing her momentum, Alexis weaves through the fray, dispatching enemies with brutal efficiency. Each pull of the trigger is precise, and every movement is a calculated step in the dance of combat.

Meanwhile, Garrus and Ashley maintain their barrage, and the coordinated assault overwhelms the Geth forces. The synthetics falter under the two-pronged attack, their numbers dwindling rapidly.

Finally, the last Geth collapses, its photoreceptor dimming as it falls. An eerie silence settles over the area, broken only by the distant rumble of Therum's geothermal activity.

Alexis exhales, lowering her weapon. Sweat beads on her brow beneath the helmet, and she allows herself a brief moment of respite.

"Nice work," Garrus calls out, striding over to her.

"That was some impressive shooting," Ashley adds, offering a nod of respect.

Before Alexis can respond, a metallic thud resonates from behind. She turns slowly, dread coiling in her stomach.

From the sky descends a Geth Armature, its massive form impacting the ground with a reverberating crash. Dust and debris swirl around it as it straightens, the glowing red eye zeroing in on them. Its main cannon begins to hum, charging with lethal energy.

"Move!" Alexis shouts, but time seems to slow.

Acting on instinct, she grabs the deactivated Geth at her feet and hurls it toward the Armature just as it fires. The blast collides with the thrown body, causing a fiery explosion that shields her from the direct hit but sends a shockwave rippling outward.

The force slams into Alexis, lifting her off her feet. She hurtles backwards, the world spinning in a blur of colours and pain. The impact with the wall knocks the breath from her lungs, a sharp agony lancing through her side.

"SHEPARD!" Garrus and Ashley's voices echo in unison, tinged with alarm.

Alexis crumples to the ground, gasping as she struggles to regain her bearings. Every breath is a stab of pain—broken ribs, she realises. Gritting her teeth, she drags herself behind a crate, using it as cover.

"Commander, are you alright?" Ashley's voice crackles over the comm.

"Been better," Alexis replies hoarsely, checking her HUD. No suit breaches—a small mercy. She forces herself to focus, pulling out her assault rifle. "That thing packs a punch."

The Armature recalibrates, its movements methodical as it searches for new targets. Garrus fires at it, but his shots barely dent its armour.

"This isn't working," he growls.

Alexis's mind races, searching for a solution. The Armature's cannon begins to charge again, the ominous glow intensifying.

Suddenly, an explosion rocks the area—the gate near the turrets erupts in a shower of metal and fire. Through the smoke, the Mako bursts into view, its engine roaring.

Tali is at the helm, her voice coming through the comms. "Thought you might need a hand!"

"Perfect timing!" Alexis responds, a surge of relief washing over her.

The Mako charges forward, its main gun firing a concentrated blast at the Armature. The shot strikes true, shattering its shields. Without hesitation, Tali accelerates, ramming the tank directly into the towering Geth. The screech of tearing metal fills the air as the Armature staggers, its legs buckling under the impact.

Garrus and Ashley seize the opportunity, unleashing everything they've got. Alexis pushes past the pain, rising to her feet and joining the assault. Bullets converge on the weakened Armature.

The Mako spins in a tight arc, Tali manoeuvring the vehicle to deliver a final devastating shot. The projectile hits the Armature's core, and for a heartbeat, everything seems to pause.

Then, with a wrenching groan, the Geth construct collapses, its systems overloading in a cascade of sparks and flames. The ground trembles as it crashes down, the red glow of its eye flickering before fading entirely.

Silence settles once more, the air heavy with the scent of ozone and burnt metal.

Alexis lowers her weapon, her breaths ragged. She places a hand over her injured side, wincing. "Good work, everyone."

The hatch of the Mako pops open, and Tali emerges, giving a playful salute. "Fancy meeting you here. Need a ride?"

Alexis can't help but grin, the expression evident in her voice. "You have impeccable timing, Tali."

"Couldn't let you have all the fun," Tali replies, her tone having forced lightness to it, as Tali’s eyes visibly check over Alexis.

As they regroup, the squad piles into the Mako. Alexis slides back into the driver's seat, adjusting herself carefully to minimise the strain on her ribs.

"How did you get past the turrets?" she asks, casting a glance at Tali.

The Quarian taps her omni-tool with a satisfied flourish. "Reprogrammed their Identification Friend or Foe protocols. As far as they're concerned, we're Geth now. Any actual Geth that try to follow..." She mimics an explosion with her hands. "Boom."

As they set off, Alexis notices that the Mako handles more smoothly than before. "Did you do something to the Mako?" she inquires.

"Just a few adjustments while I was repairing the shields," Tali admits modestly. "Optimised the power distribution and tweaked the suspension. Should be more responsive now."

"Well, it certainly feels better," Alexis acknowledges. "Thank you."

Garrus leans forward. "With Tali's upgrades and your driving, Commander, the Geth don't stand a chance."

"Let's hope Dr T'Soni is as easy to find," Ashley adds, her gaze shifting toward the looming ruins ahead.

Alexis nods, her expression turning resolute. "We're close. Let's finish what we came here to do."

The final stretch toward the dig site unfolds before them, the path relatively quiet save for a few sparse Geth patrols. The volcanic wasteland of Therum stretches on, its oppressive heat causing the air to shimmer and distort. The once-intimidating Colossus and small bases are behind them, but Alexis remains vigilant, her senses attuned to any sign of danger.

As they approach, the entrance to the dig site becomes visible—a stark contrast against the ruddy terrain. A gleaming structure of bright white metal juts out from the crimson rocks, the only hint of advanced technology in this desolate landscape. However, their path is far from clear. A contingent of Geth soldiers surrounds the entrance, their metallic bodies reflecting the fiery glow of the lava streams nearby.

Alexis brings the Mako to a halt atop a ridge, surveying the scene with a critical eye. Her heart sinks as she realises the Mako cannot proceed any further. The narrow pathway leading to the entrance is flanked by sheer rock walls on one side and a bubbling river of lava on the other. The passage is barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast, let alone accommodate their armoured vehicle.

"Damn," she mutters under her breath, drumming her fingers on the control panel. She makes several attempts to manipulate the Mako's mass effect fields, hoping to lighten the vehicle enough to traverse the gap. Each attempt ends in failure.

"Looks like we'll have to proceed on foot," Garrus observes, his tone betraying a hint of reluctance.

"Agreed," Alexis replies, her voice firm. "Everyone gear up. We have a fight ahead of us."

They disembark from the Mako, the heat hitting them like a physical force. The squad methodically checks their weapons, the familiar rituals providing a moment of calm before the storm. Alexis adjusts her grip on her assault rifle, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders.

"Stay close to the wall," she instructs, her gaze sweeping over her team. "Use the rocks for cover. We need to get as close as possible without being seen."

They advance cautiously, moving from one outcropping to the next. The jagged rocks offer minimal protection, but they make the most of the scant cover. The glow of the lava casts eerie shadows, and the sulphurous smell hangs heavy in the air.

As they draw nearer, Alexis signals for them to halt. Peering over the edge of a boulder, she assesses the enemy ahead. Five Geth soldiers stand guard, their movements mechanical yet purposeful.

"Five targets," she whispers, turning back to her squad. "One for each of us, plus an extra. We take them out quickly."

She outlines the plan with precise hand gestures, each member nodding in understanding. The tension is palpable, adrenaline coursing through their veins.

Alexis counts down silently—three, two, one. In unison, they spring into action.

Tali moves with surprising agility, her omni-tool glowing as she unleashes a burst of energy. The nearest Geth convulses as its systems overload, collapsing in a heap of sparking components.

Garrus takes aim at the furthest target, his assault rifle spitting a controlled burst of fire. The Geth's shields falter under the onslaught, and it falls backwards, crashing to the ground.

Ashley charges forward, shotgun at the ready. She closes the distance in a heartbeat, firing a devastating blast that punches a hole straight through her target's chest. The synthetic doesn't even have time to react.

Alexis focuses on the remaining two. She darts forward, her movements fluid and precise. Her shotgun roars as she dispatches one Geth, the impact sending it sprawling. The second turns toward her, weapon rising, but she is faster. A swift strike with her omni-blade severs critical circuits, and the Geth collapses at her feet.

In mere seconds, the skirmish is over. The squad regroups, their breaths coming quick but measured.

"Nice work," Alexis commends, her eyes reflecting a fierce determination. "But we're not done yet."

The sounds of combat have drawn the attention of Geth further up the hill. A larger group begins to mobilise, their metallic forms glinting ominously in the molten light.

"Spread out!" Alexis orders. "They can't focus on all of us at once."

The team splits instinctively—Alexis and Tali veer left while Garrus and Ashley move to the right. The battlefield erupts into chaos as gunfire and energy blasts pierce the air.

Tali is a whirlwind of tech prowess, her omni-tool unleashing havoc on the Geth's systems. She deploys combat drones that zip through the air, distracting and disabling enemies. One Geth convulses violently before exploding, a victim of her sabotage programs.

"Keep it up, Tali!" Alexis shouts, covering her with precise shots from her assault rifle. She moves strategically, using the terrain to her advantage. A Geth emerges from behind a boulder, and she takes it down with a well-placed burst.

On the other flank, Garrus and Ashley coordinate their assault with practised ease.

"That one's ducking every time we aim," Garrus notes, frustration creeping into his voice as a particularly evasive Geth dodges yet another shot.

"I've got an idea," Ashley responds a determined glint in her eye. "Cover me!"

Without waiting for a reply, she bolts from cover, sprinting headlong across the open ground. Garrus doesn't hesitate, laying down suppressive fire that forces the Geth to keep its head down.

Ashley reaches the enemy's position in seconds. She vaults over the rock, her shotgun primed. The Geth looks up just in time to see her pull the trigger. The blast obliterates it, fragments scattering.

She doesn't stop there—rolling forward, she takes out another Geth with a swift melee strike, then dives behind new cover as bullets pepper the ground around her.

"Impressive," Garrus mutters appreciatively, picking off a Geth that attempts to flank her.

With their combined efforts, the squad decimates the remaining hostiles. The last Geth falls, collapsing in a shower of sparks. The echoes of battle fade, leaving only the distant rumble of volcanic activity.

The team reconvenes at the entrance to the mine, a heavy steel door embedded into the rock face. As they step inside, the door slides shut behind them with a resonant clang.

"Well, that's not ominous at all," Garrus comments dryly.

Alexis shrugs, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "No turning back now."

The tunnel ahead is dimly lit, the walls lined with exposed cables and support beams. The air is cooler here, a stark contrast to the searing heat outside. At the far end, another door awaits.

"Stay alert," Alexis advises, her voice barely above a whisper. "We don't know what's waiting for us."

They advance cautiously, weapons at the ready. Tali moves to the front as they reach the door, her Omni-tool interfacing with the locking mechanism.

"Opening it now," she murmurs.

The door slides open with a hiss, revealing the vast expanse of the dig site. They step out onto a metal walkway suspended high above a cavernous pit. Below, the remnants of Prothean structures jut from the rock—tall, elegant spires intertwined with the natural formations.

"By the Spirits," Garrus breathes, his eyes wide with awe.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Alexis remarks, her gaze sweeping over the ancient architecture.

But the moment of wonder is short-lived. A distant chime echoes—a soft ding that sends a chill down their spines.

"Did you hear that?" Ashley whispers.

From the shadows, an elevator comes into view, descending along the far wall. As it reaches their level, the doors slide open to reveal a Geth rocket trooper. Without hesitation, it raises its launcher.

"Take cover!" Alexis shouts, diving behind a support column.

The rocket streaks toward them, a trail of smoke marking its path. The explosion rocks the walkway, sending vibrations through the metal grid beneath their feet.

Garrus emerges from cover, his sniper rifle already trained on the Geth. He exhales slowly, steadying his aim, and squeezes the trigger. The bullet finds its mark, piercing the Geth's armoured plating. It staggers, sparks flying from the wound before collapsing back into the elevator.

"Nice shot," Tali compliments, peeking out cautiously.

"Let's hope that's the last surprise," Alexis says, her tone wry.

They proceed along the walkway, the sounds of their footsteps echoing in the vast chamber. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the distant drip of water and the hum of ancient machinery.

"This place gives me the creeps," Tali admits quietly.

"Stay focused," Alexis replies. "We're close."

They reach the elevator, the doors still open with the fallen Geth slumped inside. Alexis nudges the synthetic aside, noting the rocket launcher it carried. She picks it up, checking the ammunition.

"One rocket left," she observes, slinging it over her shoulder. "Might come in handy."

"Always prepared," Ashley remarks with a faint smile.

As they descend deeper into the dig site, the tension mounts. The elevator groans under the strain, the walls of the shaft slipping past in a blur of metal and stone.

The elevator descends deeper into the heart of the dig site; its metallic groans echo ominously in the cavernous shaft. Alexis, Tali, Ashley, and Garrus stand in tense silence, the hum of machinery the only sound accompanying them. The eerie quiet is unsettling; it feels like the calm before a storm.

At last, the elevator shudders to a halt. The doors slide open with a hiss, revealing the sprawling expanse of the Prothean ruins. Ancient metallic structures jut out from the earth, entwined with roots and illuminated by the soft glow of bioluminescent fungi. The air is thick with the scent of damp stone and a faint, otherworldly energy.

"Hello?! Is someone there?" A voice with notes of desperation and hope echoes through the chamber.

Alexis halts mid-step, her hand instinctively tightening around her rifle. "Did you hear that?" she whispers.

"Please! Tell me it's not just my imagination again."

Exchanging a quick glance with her team, Alexis moves cautiously toward the sound, boots crunching softly on the gravel-strewn path. The winding corridor leads her around a corner, and she stops abruptly.

Suspended mid-air within a shimmering energy bubble is an Asari woman. Her luminous blue skin contrasted sharply with the cold metallic hues of the ruins. Wide, anxious eyes meet Alexis's, and relief washes over the woman's face.

"Oh, thank the goddess!" the Asari exclaims, her voice quivering with emotion.

Lowering her rifle slightly, Alexis studies the scene. "Dr. T'Soni, I presume?"

The Asari nods eagerly. "Yes! That's me. Um, I don't suppose you're here to help me?"

"Wouldn't be here otherwise," Alexis replies with a reassuring smile. Tali stepped forward, her omni-tool already scanning the energy field.

"How do we get through?" Alexis asks.

"You don't," Liara admits, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "Well, not from that side, at any rate."

Alexis raises an eyebrow. "Okay... so how did you end up in there?"

Liara's gaze drops in embarrassment. "I, uh, may have accidentally activated the security system and trapped myself in this bubble," she confesses in a rush, her words tumbling over each other. She avoids Alexis's eyes, clearly mortified.

A soft chuckle escapes Alexis. "Alright, let's see about getting you out. Do you know how to deactivate it?"

Liara brightens slightly. "The console on this side can release the field." A distant crash echoes through the cavern, causing her to glance nervously over her shoulder. "Please hurry."

"Understood. Let's move," Alexis says, turning to her team.

They navigate a narrow path that seems less travelled, the rough-hewn rock beneath their feet suggests it is seldom used. The corridor twists and turns, leading them deeper into the ruins. Faint imprints of three-toed footprints marr the dusty floor—Geth tracks—but the machines themselves remain unseen.

The stone underfoot transitions to the cool metal characteristic of Prothean architecture. They step into a vast central chamber, its ceiling soaring into the darkness above. Massive pillars adorned with ancient glyphs stand like silent sentinels. Alexis pauses, her gaze sweeping upward.

"Incredible," she whispers. The sheer scale of the place was awe-inspiring.

They approach the glowing energy field encasing Liara. She twists slightly within her confinement to face them, a hopeful smile playing on her lips. "The console there should turn off the field. Just hit the third button from the top right."

Alexis examines the console, its interface covered in indecipherable Prothean script. Trusting Liara's instruction, she presses the indicated button. The energy bubble flickers and dissolves. Liara descends gracefully, her feet touching the ground softly.

"Um, thank you..." she says, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I didn't happen to catch your name."

"Commander Alexis'Shepard, Spectre," Alexis replies, extending her left hand.

Liara's eyes widen as she shakes the hand lightly. "Oh! I didn't realise there were any human Spectres. Not that you shouldn't be—oh, I didn't mean anything by that! I just hadn't heard—"

Alexis laughs softly, cutting off her nervous rambling. "It's alright. I'm the first, and it's only been official for a few days or so." She gestures to her companions. "And this is Tali'Zorah, Chief Ashley Williams, and Garrus Vakarian."

"A pleasure to meet you all," Liara says, nodding to each in turn. "Could we perhaps continue this conversation elsewhere? I've had quite enough of these ruins."

"Definitely. This way," Alexis agrees, starting back toward the elevator.

A thunderous boom reverberates through the chamber, stopping them in their tracks. The ground trembles, and dust rains down from above.

"You've done well, human," a deep, gruff voice calls out, laced with mocking amusement. "Saved me the trouble of figuring out these damned machines."

From the shadows, a hulking Krogan emerges, his battle-scarred armour glinting ominously. Flanking him are several Geth, their mechanical eyes glowing with cold intent. They have weapons trained on the team, blocking their escape.

Alexis's eyes narrow. "Well, always had a knack for helping out."

The Krogan raises his shotgun, aiming directly at Liara. "I'll be taking the doctor now."

"Over my cold, dead body," Alexis snarls, stepping protectively in front of Liara.

He grins wickedly. "That's the plan."

Without warning, he fires. Alexis reacts instantly, tackling Liara and rolling behind a nearby pillar as the blast shatters the space where they'd stood moments before.

"Stay down!" Alexis orders, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Liara nods, though her gaze drifts to a Prothean console embedded in the pillar. "If I can just access this..."

"Not now!" Alexis snaps, peering around the pillar to assess the situation.

The Geth unleash a hail of gunfire, forcing the rest of the squad into cover. The enemy has the upper hand, pinning them down with relentless aggression.

"Commander, we're pinned!" Garrus reports over the comm.

"Working on it," Alexis replies tersely.

She notices the Krogan circling around the edge of the room, closing in on their position. Timing her move carefully, she waits until a Geth rocket trooper fires, the explosion momentarily obscuring the battlefield.

"Now!" she whispers fiercely.

Bursting from cover, Alexis sprints toward the Krogan, a feral battle cry escaping her lips. He swings his shotgun toward her, eyes widening in surprise. She ducks low, driving her shoulder into his gut with all her might. The impact forces a grunt from him, staggering his massive frame backwards.

Seizing the moment, she slashes at his face with her omni-blade, the energy weapon slicing through armour and flesh. He roars in pain, blood oozing from the wounds.

 

He retaliates with a swift kick to her chest, and the force sends Alexis flying. She twists mid-air, landing in a crouch. A smirk forms beneath her helmet as she meets his furious gaze.

"You're quick for a human," he growls, wiping blood from his face.

"You're slow for a Krogan," she retorts.

Enraged, he tosses his shotgun aside, opting for hand-to-hand combat. Charging like a bull, he swings powerful fists in wide arcs. Alexis weaves and dodges, her agility keeping her just out of reach.

She lands a kick to his back, causing him to stumble. He recovers swiftly, surprising her with a backhanded swing. She raises her arms to block, the impact jarring her shields and numbing her arms.

He presses the advantage, delivering a punch to her gut. Pain explodes through her broken ribs, but she grits her teeth, refusing to falter.

"Had enough?" he taunts.

"Not even close," she hisses.

She shoves his fist aside and drives her elbow into his chin; the blow snaps his head back. Seizing the opening, she unleashes a flurry of punches, each strike precise and relentless. Blood splatters across her armour as she pushes him onto the defensive.

Around them, the battle rages. Tali unleashes overloads, disrupting Geth shields and causing them to spark and convulse. Ashley and Garrus provide covering fire, their shots picking off enemies with practised efficiency.

Liara, taking shelter but unwilling to remain idle, focuses her biotics. With a graceful motion, she lifts a Geth trooper into the air, hurling it into another and shattering them both.

"Nice one!" Tali shouts, reloading her shotgun.

Back with Alexis, the fight is reaching its peak. Both combatants show signs of fatigue, their movements slowing. The Krogan's strength begins to wane, his breaths comes in ragged gasps.

Sensing an opportunity, Alexis moves in. But a moment's hesitation costs her. The Krogan's head snaps forward, and his hardened crest smashes into her helmet. The visor cracks, spiderweb fractures obscuring her vision.

Stunned, she staggers back. The Krogan seizes her by the throat, lifting her effortlessly. His grip tightens, cutting off her air.

"Saren will be glad to be rid of you," he snarls. "Another thorn removed."

Alexis gasps, struggling against his vice-like hold. "You... really should... look down..." she chokes out.

Confusion flickers in his eyes before the realisation dawns too late. Alexis has drawn her pistol, pressing it against his armoured chest. She pulls the trigger repeatedly, each shot blasting into him at point-blank range.

He roars in pain, releasing her as he stumbles backwards. Landing on her feet, Alexis coughs but doesn’t hesitate. Alexis's head rushes forward, the area which covers her forehead slamming into the Krogan’s nose. A fresh spurt of blood fills the air, splattering onto Shepard’s helmet. The force sends him crashing onto his back in the centre of the elevator platform.

"Thought I might need this," she mutters, retrieving the Geth rocket launcher she'd picked up earlier.

The Krogan struggles to rise, blood seeping from multiple wounds. "You... can't defeat me..." he growles.

"Watch me," Alexis replies coldly.

She aimes and fires. The rocket streaks across the short distance, detonating upon impact. The explosion rocks the chamber, flames and shrapnel engulfing the Krogan.

The shockwave rattles the entire structure. Cracks spiderweb across the walls and ceiling. The elevator lurches violently, the mechanisms groaning under the strain.

"Commander, the whole place is coming down!" Garrus shouts over the din.

"Time to go!" Alexis yells.

"RUN!" Liara's voice echoes, urgency cutting through the chaos.

They sprint toward the exit, the path crumbling behind them. Rocks and debris rain down, the ancient ruins collapsing under their feet. Alexis brings up the rear, ushering her team through the narrow tunnel.

"Go, go, go!" she urges, her lungs burning.

They burst out into the open air just as the entrance caves in behind them. A massive cloud of dust and debris billows outward, enveloping them momentarily.

Coughing, Alexis stands with her hands braced on her knees, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The air she draws in is a harsh mix of filtered oxygen from her suit and the acrid scent seeping through the cracks spiderwebbing across her visor. Each inhale sends a sharp pain through her ribs, but she straightens nonetheless. "Escaping collapsing ruins... can't say it's my favourite activity," she manages, her voice tinged with both exhaustion and wry humour.

A strained laugh ripples through the group, a welcome sound amid the settling dust and distant echoes of falling debris. "Could've fooled me," Ashley quips, brushing layers of dust and fine gravel from her scarred armour. "You make it look like a regular Sunday stroll."

Alexis casts a weary glance around, her gaze sharp despite her fatigue. "Everyone okay?" she asks, eyes lingering on each team member in turn.

"All good here," Garrus replies, flexing his mandibles as he rolls his shoulders, easing the tension from strained muscles. His usually pristine armour bears new scorch marks and scratches, souvenirs from their recent ordeal.

"Same," Tali confirms, her voice carrying a note of relief. She turns toward Alexis, her eyes widening behind her visor as she notices the network of cracks marring the Commander's helmet. "Keelah! Let me help," she exclaims, closing the distance between them swiftly.

Before Alexis can protest, Tali retrieves a vial of emergency suit sealant from her belt. With practised efficiency, she sprays the transparent substance across Alexis's visor. The gel-like material adheres to the cracks, sealing them instantly without obscuring her vision.

"Thank you," Alexis says softly, touched by the Quarian's concern. "No other breaches to my undersuit."

Tali nods, her gloved hands lingering momentarily on Alexis's arms. "You scared me for a moment," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. The unspoken fear of environmental exposure hangs in the air.

Alexis offers a reassuring smile, though it's hidden behind her helmet. "I'm alright," she assures her. "Thanks to you."

Tali steps back, her posture relaxing slightly. "Just... be careful," she murmurs, clearly struggling to put her emotions into words.

"Always am," Alexis replies with a hint of irony.

"Let's get back to the Normandy," she announces, her tone shifting back to command mode. "Ashley, you're driving."

"Yes, ma'am," Ashley responds promptly, already moving toward the Mako.

They make their way carefully back to the vehicle, the oppressive silence of the barren landscape pressing in around them. The only sounds are their footsteps crunching over loose stones, and the distant hiss of cooling lava flows. Ever vigilant, they scan the horizon for any sign of lurking Geth, but the journey remains mercifully uneventful.

As they drive away, the collapsed ruins recede into the distance, swallowed by the desolate expanse of Therum. The sky above is a canvas of swirling ash and smoke, the dim light casting long shadows across the rocky terrain.

Inside the Mako, the atmosphere is a mix of exhaustion and quiet triumph. Garrus leans back in his seat, exhaling slowly. "Well, that was... eventful," he remarks.

"Just another day saving the galaxy," Ashley replies with a faint smile, her eyes on the path ahead.

Tali sits beside Alexis, occasionally glancing over as if to reassure herself that the Commander is truly unharmed.

Alexis catches her look and nods subtly. "We did good today," she says softly. "Liara's safe, and we have a lead on Saren."

"Still, we should get those injuries checked out when we're back," Tali insists gently.

"Agreed," Garrus adds. "No sense in taking unnecessary risks."

Alexis chuckles lightly. "When did you all become my caretakers?"

"When you started putting yourself in the line of fire for us," Ashley replies without missing a beat.

"Fair enough," Alexis concedes.

The Mako continues its journey, the Normandy's silhouette eventually coming into view—a beacon of hope against the stark landscape.

As they approach, Joker's voice comes over the comms. "Glad to see you made it back in one piece, Commander. We were starting to get a bit worried up here."

"Miss us that much, Joker?" Alexis teases.

"Well, the ship's been too quiet without your antics," he retorts. "Docking bay is ready when you are."

"On our way," she confirms.

As the Mako ascends into the Normandy's hold, the familiar hum of the ship's engines envelops Alexis like a comforting blanket. She allows herself a moment to breathe deeply, wincing slightly as her ribs protest. The adrenaline that had fueled her earlier is ebbing away, leaving behind the throbbing aches and pains of combat.

"Good work out there," she tells her team as they disembark onto the polished deck of the cargo bay. Her voice carries a blend of exhaustion and genuine pride. "Debrief in the comm room in an hour."

They nod in acknowledgement, their expressions a mix of fatigue and satisfaction. One by one, they disperse to tend to their gear and wounds. Garrus heads toward the calibration station, already eyeing his sniper rifle with a critical gaze. Ashley moves to secure the weapons locker, her posture rigid but her eyes betraying relief.

As the others depart, Alexis turns to Tali, who lingers nearby, tapping thoughtfully on her omni-tool. She reaches out, touching Tali's arm lightly. The material of the Quarian's suit is cool beneath her gauntleted fingers. "And Tali... thank you again."

Tali looks up, her luminescent eyes meeting Alexis's through her visor. Though hidden behind the tinted glass, a subtle smile graces her features. "Anytime, Alexis," she replies softly.

A moment of comfortable silence passes between them before Alexis's attention shifts to their new Asari passenger. Dr. Liara T'Soni stands a few paces away, her hands clasped tightly together, fingers fidgeting nervously. She gazes around the cargo bay with a mixture of awe and apprehension, her blue skin contrasting starkly with the metallic surroundings.

Alexis approaches her, noting the subtle signs of stress—the slight crease between her brows and the way she bites her lower lip. "Dr. T'Soni," she begins, her tone gentle yet firm.

Liara's head snaps up, her eyes wide. "Commander Shepard," she responds, inclining her head respectfully. "I... I want to thank you for rescuing me, but I must admit I'm a bit overwhelmed. Why did you risk so much to save me?"

Alexis regards her steadily. "I need your help, Doctor. Suffice it to say, the fate of the galaxy may rest on our mission, and I believe you can provide valuable assistance."

Liara's eyes widen further, a mixture of curiosity and concern flickering across her face. "Oh! Um... how can I help?"

"Meet me in the comm room with the rest of the crew in an hour," Alexis replies. "I'll explain everything then. There's a lot to cover, and I want to make sure you have all the information."

Liara nods hesitantly. "Very well. Thank you again, Commander." She offers a tentative smile before turning and making her way toward the elevator, her steps echoing softly in the vast space.

As Liara departs, Alexis feels the weight of responsibility settles more heavily on her shoulders. She watches the young Asari disappear from view before sighing quietly.

Alexis turns toward her locker, the metallic door hissing softly as it opens. The familiar scent of metal and faint machine oil greets her. As she strips off her armour's hard outer layers, she feels the day's exertions caught up with her. The chest plate comes off with a bit more effort than usual, and she grimaces as a sharp pain lances through her side. Glancing down, she notices cracks spiderwebbing across the plating—damage she hadn't realised she'd sustained.

"Guess I took more of a beating than I thought," she mutters to herself.

"Looks like I missed a hell of a fight," a deep, gravelly voice comments from behind.

Alexis turns to see Wrex approaching, his massive frame casting a shadow across the deck. The Krogan's eyes flick to the blood staining a significant portion of her helmet.

She offers a weary grin. "You would've loved it. Got headbutted by a Krogan battlemaster."

Wrex's expression shifts to one of amused surprise. "Ha! And here I thought you humans were all soft skulls."

"I gave as good as I got," she retorts, a glint of pride in her eyes. "Headbutted him right back."

A booming laugh erupts from Wrex. "Bet that surprised the bastard! Not every day someone dares to headbutt a Krogan."

"Well, he started it," Alexis replies with a mock shrug.

Tali chuckles softly, the tension easing from her posture. "No one ever expects a headbutt from a visor," she adds.

Wrex claps Alexis on the shoulder—a gesture that sends a jolt of pain through her injured ribs. She manages to suppress a wince, but not quickly enough.

He notices, his gaze sharpening. "You're hurt."

"Just a scratch," she lies, her voice strained despite her attempt at nonchalance.

He narrows his eyes but decides not to press the issue. "You fight like a Krogan, Shepard. Keep this up, and I might have to challenge you myself."

"Looking forward to it," she replies, her tone light.

Wrex grunts appreciatively before sauntering off toward the elevator, his heavy footsteps echoing.

As he leaves, Alexis exhales slowly, allowing the mask of composure to slip just a fraction. She resumes removing her armour, carefully placing each piece on the bench beside her. Only her helmet remains; a discreet cough draws her attention.

Turning slowly, she finds herself face-to-face with Dr. Chakwas, the Normandy's chief medical officer. Standing next to her is Tali, who looks somewhat sheepish, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Commander," Dr. Chakwas begins, her tone professional yet leaving no room for argument. Her keen eyes sweep over Alexis, taking in the bloodstains, the cracked armour, and the subtle stiffness in her movements. "Medbay. Now."

Alexis suppresses a sigh. "I was just removing my armour first," she offers, attempting a conciliatory smile.

Dr Chakwas raises an eyebrow. "No need. You've had a suit breach on a hostile world teeming with potential contaminants. I've already initiated sterilisation protocols in the medbay and prepared decontamination showers for both of you."

Tali steps forward hastily. "My suit wasn't breached. I'm fine," she insists.

The Doctor's gaze shifts to her. "Perhaps, but this is your first deployment aboard the Normandy. It's standard procedure to conduct a full medical assessment after missions, especially when exposure is a possibility. I've set up the bay to accommodate both of you simultaneously. Unless either of you has concerns you'd prefer to discuss privately?"

Her tone softens slightly at the end, offering them an out if needed.

Alexis exchanges a glance with Tali before shaking her head. "No concerns here."

Tali sighs, her shoulders relaxing. "I understand. It's a good plan. I suppose this means we'll be seeing a lot of each other in the medbay after missions."

Dr Chakwas nods approvingly. "Most likely. It takes time to prepare the bay for decontamination and suit removal."

She gestures toward the corridor. "Shall we?"

Alexis follows without further protest, the dull ache in her side reminding her that the Doctor is right. Tali falls into step beside her, the ship's quiet hum enveloping them.

As they enter the medbay, the doors slide shut behind them with a soft hiss, sealing off the room. Antiseptics' sterile scent and sanitised surfaces' soft glow greet them. Dr. Chakwas moves efficiently, activating the clean room protocols. A gentle vibration runs through the floor as the systems engage.

"You know where everything is, Commander," she says, her attention already shifting to the array of medical equipment laid out, "Tali, you don't need to remove your suit; just clean it from contamination unless we detect an injury and breach."

Alexis nods, moving toward the decontamination area. She begins to unseal her suit, each movement deliberate. Tali hesitates for a moment before following suit, stepping into her own decon shower.

A comfortable silence settles between them, punctuated only by the soft sounds of zippers and clasps, before the sound of the showers engages.

Dr Chakwas approaches her demeanour all business. "Let's get started. Commander, I'll need to examine those injuries. Tali, once you're ready, we'll begin your assessment."

After her trip to the medbay, Alexis stands in the Normandy's comm room, arms folded across her chest. She's donned a more casual body suit, similar in style to Tali's—the sleek material hugging her form while allowing for ease of movement. Her helmet rests on a nearby console, revealing her face etched with the lingering fatigue of recent events.

The room is dimly lit, holographic displays casting a soft blue glow that dances across the metallic surfaces. Alexis's gaze is steady as she explains the gravity of their situation to Dr. Liara T'Soni, the Normandy’s newest passenger. The Asari archaeologist sits across from her, eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and dawning realisation.

"So, that's everything," Alexis concludes, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet chamber. The air between them is thick with unspoken questions, the weight of the revelations settling heavily.

Liara sits in stunned silence, her fingers entwined tightly in her lap. The enormity of what she's just learned swirls in her mind—the Reapers, her mother's involvement with Saren, the true fate of the Protheans. It's almost too much to process.

"Why... why do you need me, exactly?" Liara finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze meets Alexis's, searching for understanding.

Alexis takes a measured breath. "Your mother is helping Saren find the Conduit and bring back the Reapers. I want to know why. Have you spoken to Matriarch Benezia about any of this? Has she mentioned anything unusual?"

Liara shakes her head slowly, tendrils swaying with the motion. "I... I haven't spoken to my mother in several years. She doesn't understand my life's work and made it clear she disapproves. Our relationship is... strained." A hint of sadness colours her tone. "So no, I haven't discussed any of this with her."

Alexis exhales softly, rubbing her forehead with her uninjured right hand. "Damn it. I was hoping you might have some insight." She pauses, considering their options. "Well, we can drop you off at the Citadel if you'd prefer. You could return to Thessia or another dig site—"

"No." Liara's response is immediate, her voice firm. Alexis raises an eyebrow at the sudden conviction. "What I mean is, I want to see this through. If my mother is involved in this, I need to know why. Commander, I know my mother. She wouldn't do this of her own free will. There must be an explanation."

Her eyes search Alexis's, earnest and determined. "And I must say, I'm rather interested in you, Shepard."

Alexis feels a slight flush rise to her cheeks. "Me?" she asks, a hint of amusement and curiosity in her tone. Behind her, Tali shifts subtly, her posture tensing.

Realising how her words might be interpreted, Liara's cheeks darken to a shade of indigo. "Oh—no, not like that!" she stammers, words tumbling out in her haste to clarify. "I mean, in your experiences. You've come into contact with a working Prothean beacon. It's extraordinary. I would have... well, I would have given anything to witness that during my earlier research."

Alexis chuckles softly, easing the moment. "If by 'come into contact,' you mean it blew up in my face, then yeah, it was quite the experience."

Liara leans forward, her scholarly enthusiasm taking over. "The vision it gave you is unlike anything I've ever heard of. You and Saren may be the only beings currently alive who have witnessed the Protheans' final moments. Even if it's as unclear as you say, it's remarkable. And that you survived the beacon's energy output at all is... well, unprecedented."

She pauses thoughtfully. "Interpreting the vision would require a sort of cypher—a way to understand the Protheans' cultural context and perspective. Without it, the images may remain incomprehensible."

Alexis tilts her head, intrigued. "And where would I get this cypher exactly?"

Liara sighs, her gaze distant. "That's the challenge. Without a living Prothean, it's nearly impossible. Access to working Prothean technology might help, but such artefacts are rare and heavily guarded—like the archives on Mars. Time isn't a luxury we have."

She hesitates before meeting Alexis's eyes again. "However, I believe I might be able to help you understand it better if you allow me."

"How?" Alexis asks, curiosity evident.

"I can join our minds," Liara explains gently. "Meld them together to help sift through the vision, perhaps uncover meanings that elude you."

Alexis considers the offer, her instincts urging caution. She's aware of Asari melding—a profound and intimate connection. Part of her hesitates at the thought of exposing her mind, but the mission takes precedence. "If you think it will help," she agrees.

From across the room, Ashley shifts uneasily. "Commander, do you think it's safe—"

Alexis's gaze sharpens. "It's for the mission," she states firmly, leaving no room for debate.

Liara rises gracefully from her seat, stepping closer to Alexis. "Relax, Commander. This will only take a moment." She positions herself just over a foot away, her expression focused yet gentle. "Are you ready?"

"Do it," Alexis affirms, feeling a reassuring hand on her upper back. She glances briefly to see Tali standing close behind her, offering silent support. The gesture brings a small smile to Alexis's lips.

Liara closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opens them again, they glow with a soft, ethereal light. She reaches out, her fingertips lightly brushing Alexis's temples. "Embrace eternity!" her voice echoes, resonating deeper than should be possible.

Suddenly, Alexis's world shifts. The comm room dissolves around her as the haunting images from the beacon flood her mind once more. The cacophony of sounds—the roar of machines, the cries of the vanquished—surges within her. Yet this time, there's clarity amidst the chaos. The disjointed fragments begin to align, forming a coherent narrative.

She witnesses the Protheans' desperate struggle, their final stand against an overwhelming force. The sheer scale of the Reapers becomes apparent—a cold, unrelenting tide intent on extinguishing all advanced life. Emotions not her own wash over her: fear, defiance, sorrow.

Abruptly, the connection severs. Alexis gasps, staggering back. Tali is there instantly, her grip steadying. Liara also sways, one hand reaching out to the console for support.

"Remarkable," Liara whispers, her voice tinged with awe. "The last records of the Protheans' demise. This might confirm my theory."

"Your theory?" Alexis echoes, her mind still reeling from the shared experience.

Liara nods, regaining her composure. "A cycle of extinction events spanning millions of years. For a civilisation as advanced and widespread as the Protheans, the scarcity of their artefacts is... suspicious. It's as if someone—or something—systematically eradicated all traces of them. If the Reapers are responsible, they've been orchestrating these purges far longer than we imagined."

She pauses, a shadow crossing her features. "And if that's true, the entire galaxy is in grave danger."

Alexis studies her, concern evident. "You should have Doctor Chakwas take a look at you."

Liara offers a faint smile. "I appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. The melding process can be... taxing. I just need to rest."

"Alright," Alexis concedes. "Get some rest. We'll need your expertise."

Turning to the rest of the crew, Alexis's voice carries authority. "Dismissed."

As everyone files out, Tali hesitates for a moment before leaving; Alexis remains in the comm room to consider all the new information she’s learnt. None of it is particularly useful to the mission, except for the knowledge that she needs a cypher. Where she’d get that, Alexis doesn't have a single clue. But if it can help her to comprehend the vision completely, she is certain she can learn exactly where the Conduit was and stop Saren from getting to it or outright destroy the damn thing.

Joker’s voice interrupts her train of thought through the intercom, “Want me to patch you through to the Council?”

“No. Don’t want to waste their oh so precious time when I don’t have anything. Just send my report through," Alexis says.

Joker holds back laughter, “Aye, aye, ma’am.”

Alexis marches out of the comm room, considering their next move, almost walking into Tali, "I feel like we keep running into each other like this," Alexis jokes.

Tali's eyes crinkle behind her visor, suggesting a smile. "Seems that way," she replies softly. She takes a small breath. "Can we talk?" she asks in Khelish, their native tongue—a melodic language filled with subtle inflections.

"Of course," Alexis responds in kind. "My quarters?"

Tali nods appreciatively. Together, they make their way to the elevator, the soft hum of the Normandy accompanying them. As they walk, their shoulders occasionally brush—a simple contact that brings comfort. For Alexis, the tactile connection is a reminder of home and the close bonds she'd shared growing up.

Inside Alexis's quarters, the atmosphere is more personal than the sterile corridors of the ship. The soft lighting casts a warm glow, creating a haven away from the demands of command.

"Make yourself comfortable," Alexis says, gesturing to the couch. She retrieves two filtered drinks, handing one to Tali before settling beside her. "What's on your mind?"

Tali turns the drink packet in her hands, her gaze fixed on it. "I... I'm just going to say it. I saw the vision as well when Liara melded with you."

Alexis blinks in surprise. "You did? How is that possible?"

"I was touching you at the time," Tali explains softly. "I think the connection extended to me inadvertently." She pauses, her voice tinged with lingering unease. "Seeing those images—the destruction, the Reapers—it was... overwhelming."

Alexis places a comforting hand over Tali's. "I'm sorry you had to experience that. It's not something I'd wish on anyone."

Tali shakes her head gently. "Don't apologise. If anything, it makes me more resolute. But it also raises... concerns." She glances at Alexis, her eyes reflecting a mix of determination and vulnerability. "The idea of synthetics wiping out entire civilisations—it strikes close to home."

A moment of shared silence passes between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Alexis understands the weight of that revelation all too well, especially for Tali.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Alexis offers gently. "Or we can just sit and watch something."

Tali's shoulders relax slightly. "Could we just put a vid on? I don't really want to be alone or in silence right now."

"Absolutely." Alexis smiles softly. She taps on her omni-tool, scrolling through a selection of vids. She chooses a light-hearted documentary about starship engineering—a topic familiar and comforting to both of them.

As the vid begins to play, Alexis adjusts herself on the couch, allowing Tali to lean against her. She drapes an arm around Tali's shoulders, the gesture natural and unforced. The fabric of their suits presses together, a barrier yet also a connection.

They watch in companionable silence, the soft glow of the screen illuminating their features. The narrator's voice fills the room, discussing the intricacies of drive core calibrations and hull integrity—subjects that, under normal circumstances, might seem mundane but now provide a welcome distraction.

Tali rests her head lightly against Alexis's shoulder. "Thank you," she whispers.

"For what?" Alexis asks, her gaze remaining on the screen.

"For being here. For understanding."

Alexis's eyes soften. "Always," she replies simply.

In that quiet moment, amidst the vastness of space and the looming threats beyond, they find solace in each other's company. Two souls bound by shared experiences and unspoken understanding, drawing strength from the connection they've forged.

Chapter 5: V

Summary:

The Normandy's mission to Feros leads to an interesting and disturbing discovery

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

V

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

Alexis feels the Normandy drop out of massless space, the familiar hum of the ship's systems thrumming beneath her feet. She continues her efforts to fix the crack in her helmet, the one she earned courtesy of a Krogan's skull back on Therum. It’s a stubborn flaw; the specialised gel for the reinforced glass keeps slipping off, refusing to bond. She could replace the entire visor, but something in her insists on trying to fix it herself—it feels personal, like proof of her resilience.

She sighs, dropping the helmet onto the table with a frustrated groan. She hangs her head for a moment, letting her hands rest on either side of the table. The other repairs to her armour are easy—simple scratches and dents that require no more than a buffer or sealant. But this crack is proving to be her nemesis.

“ETA to Feros: one hour,” Joker's voice comes through the ship’s comms, echoing in the cargo bay.

Alexis pushes the helmet aside, abandoning her repair attempts for now. She’s already wearing a fresh set of armour, still gleaming and unused, though it doesn't feel right yet—like it hasn’t become part of her. She chuckles to herself, reflecting on how often she’s ended up in the medbay since becoming a Spectre. The movies have sold her a lie about the glamorous life of spies and super-soldiers. In reality, it’s getting thrown against walls, bruises from close-range firefights, and headaches from Krogan headbutts.

With a sigh, Alexis sets off for the engine room, nodding at Ashley and Kaidan on her way—both busy prepping gear for the mission. Feros is an ExoGeni colony, mostly human-occupied, and Alexis hopes having both of them will help smooth interactions with any survivors. Tali, of course, is non-negotiable. They’ll face Geth, and when it comes to synthetics, she wants her best engineer beside her.

The engineering room is bustling when she arrives, crew members moving between consoles, the hum of Normandy's systems a comforting white noise. Amid the movement, Tali stands hunched over a console, her back to Alexis, shotgun and pistol strapped to her hips. Alexis leans on the railing nearby, watching the Quarian work, appreciating the efficiency and focus in her movements.

“Everything okay in here?” Alexis calls out, trying to keep her tone light but unable to hide the trace of concern. The Normandy’s systems are well beyond her knowledge. She trusts her crew implicitly, but she’s learned that even the most minor issue could lead to disaster if overlooked.

Tali looks up briefly, her fingers never stopping their dance across the console. “We had a few of the DRAs overload during the relay jump.” Seeing the flash of alarm in Alexis's eyes, she quickly adds, “It’s just an unexpected consequence of my adjustments to the drive core’s emissions. Basically, it's my fault, but nothing major—just some heat diffusion issues.”

Alexis frowns, unconvinced. “Heat diffusion system failing doesn’t sound minor, Tali. I’d rather not end up roasted alive.”

Tali chuckles, a soft, melodic sound that seems to vibrate through the room. “Don't worry, you’ll be fine. You’re hot enough already.”

The words linger between them, echoing louder than the hum of the machinery. Tali’s hands still over the console, her head snapping towards Alexis as if she could catch her own words and pull them back.

“I mean—hot as in body temperature!” she stammers, her voice rising in pitch. “Compared to, um, Turians, who are cold-blooded... Not that you aren’t, well, attractive because you are, but that’s not... Keelah...” Tali trails off, her flustered words coming to an embarrassed halt. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that?”

Alexis’s lips part slightly, a surprised smile tugging at the corners. She can feel her cheeks flush, warmth spreading under her skin. She’s used to tension—combat tension, the intensity before a fight—but this is different. The vulnerability in Tali’s voice, her own reaction—it makes Alexis pause.

After a moment, she decides to play along, to give Tali an out. “Say what?” she asks, her voice soft, teasing, the faintest blush colouring her face. She shoots Tali a wink that she hopes conveys what words can’t—an understanding, an appreciation, and an unspoken promise to let it be.

Tali blinks at her, taken aback. For a moment, it seems like she believes maybe Alexis hasn’t heard. But the blush on Alexis’s cheeks under her helmet tells a different story. Quickly, Tali ducks her head, her gaze returning to the console. “We’ll be at Feros soon,” Alexis says, trying to bridge the silence. “Want me to come grab you when it’s time?”

Tali nods, her voice coming out as a whisper, as though she fears stumbling over her words again. “That’d be great. I'll just… keep working on this until then.”

Alexis lingers for a moment, feeling the tension in the air—a tension neither of them seems willing to confront directly. She turns, backing away, her eyes wandering the engineering room, deliberately avoiding the space Tali occupies. She feels her gaze wanting to drift back to the Quarian—to the way her suit hugs her form, to the grace with which she moves, and she forces herself to look anywhere but there.

And then she promptly almost runs into the railing behind her, her armoured side clanging loudly against the metal. A few engineers turn to see the source of the noise, and Alexis’s face flushes even more. She glances quickly back, and thankfully, Tali seems too engrossed in her work to have noticed her near blunder.

Alexis spins on her heel and makes her way out of engineering, her heart beating a little faster than she’d care to admit. It’s disorienting—the rush of adrenaline, the awkwardness. She isn’t used to feeling this way, especially not while on a mission. Emotions like these have no place on the battlefield, where every moment requires focus and detachment. And yet, with Tali, there’s something—something that makes her want to stay a little longer, talk a little more, just to see that curiosity behind Tali’s visor.

Meanwhile, Tali watches Alexis leave out of the corner of her eye, her own heart thudding painfully in her chest. She is on her Pilgrimage; Alexis is her Captain. And they are in the middle of something far too dangerous to allow such emotions to surface. There are so many reasons this is impossible, reasons she should focus on the task in front of her rather than on the Commander’s smile or the warmth she felt from Alexis’s response.

But it is there—a current between them, unspoken and impossible to ignore. Tali shakes her head, trying to focus on her work, yet her thoughts keep drifting back to the way Alexis looks at her, the light teasing in her eyes.

For now, they have a mission. And the mission comes first, always. But as she works, Tali can't help but wonder—when the mission is over, when there is finally a moment to breathe—what might come next for both of them.

Alexis and her chosen squad stand in the airlock, the tapping of her foot echoing in the small space as they wait for the Normandy to fully dock. “Equalising interior pressure with exterior atmosphere. Logged. The commanding officer is ashore. XO Pressley has the deck,” the boatswain announces. Finally, the door opens with a mechanical whirring, and the four of them move off the ship, their weapons ready.

Alexis rounds the corner from the docking equipment first, spotting a single man standing further down the dock. He gives a short wave, not even bothering to introduce himself before speaking. “We saw your ship approaching. Fai Dan wants to speak with you upstairs.”

Before Alexis can respond, the air shatters with the sound of gunfire. A Geth weapon fires, shredding through the man’s chest. Blood splatters across Alexis's armour as she instinctively ducks. The squad dives for cover, small barricades scattered along the dock, just barely big enough to hide them. The suddenness of the attack takes Alexis off guard. How have the Geth managed to sneak up on them so efficiently? Their scans of the area hadn’t picked up any synthetics at all.

Alexis finds herself squeezed beside Tali, both lying low on the ground. Their cover is so small they can't even fully sit up. Kaidan and Ashley are positioned further back, their barricades allowing them just enough space to crouch and return fire effectively. Projectiles fill the air, a constant barrage keeping Alexis and Tali pinned down. Kaidan and Ashley do their best to fight back, blasting apart the advancing synthetics, but they just keep coming. Alexis stares at the small display inside her helmet; her suit’s computer only shows garbled static where there should be a radar map. The Geth have them trapped, and they’re jamming their equipment.

As the waves of enemies begin to lessen, Alexis manages to grab a grenade from her belt. She pulls the pin and tosses it towards the enemy. The explosion sends a few Geth flying, their deactivation whines echoing across the dock. Alexis glances at Tali, who’s focused on her omni-tool, her fingers moving with practised speed. Finally, Tali completes her hack, and the jamming signal ends abruptly. Alexis's heads-up display springs to life, a grin spreading across her face as she notes there are only three Geth left to take down.

Alexis rises from behind cover, pulling her rifle free in one smooth motion. She fires at the nearest Geth, her rounds tearing through its torso, armour cracking as the synthetic collapses. The second Geth turns its weapon on her, bullets hammering into her kinetic barrier. Alexis ducks back behind cover, then leans out to return fire, her shots reducing it to scrap. The last Geth is quickly destroyed by her squadmates, and the four of them slowly rise from cover, weapons raised and eyes scanning for more threats. Alexis taps her comms.

“Pressley, get a squad of marines deployed to defend the airlock. No one gets close,” Alexis orders.

“Roger that, Commander,” Pressley’s voice crackles in her ear.

The squad moves cautiously further along the dock. No more Geth appear in the docking bay itself, though the distant sounds of synthetic movement echo from deeper within the structure. Alexis leads them forward, coming to a huge concrete stairwell. One glance over the edge shows it spirals down into darkness, individual floors blending into shadows. The lower levels are completely blocked by rubble, leaving only one way to go—up.

A sudden noise catches Alexis's attention. She whips her head around just in time to see the shadow of a Geth leap across the stairwell. The squad freezes, waiting, weapons trained on the empty space, but nothing moves. No further sound. Slowly, Alexis gestures for them to continue, leading them carefully up the stairs, each step deliberate and cautious. They’re halfway to the next floor when the Geth finally decides to make its move.

It leaps into the stairwell, firing its head-mounted weapon as it descends. The shots go wide, missing entirely, giving Alexis and her team the perfect opportunity. Three assault rifles and a shotgun fire simultaneously, dismembering the synthetic before it even hits the ground. It’s still twitching, trying to rise, until Tali steps forward and fires one last blast into its chest. The hatred in her eyes is clear, her distaste for the Geth palpable, and Alexis can't blame her.

No more Geth challenge them as they push through empty stairwells and narrow hallways. Finally, they arrive at the ExoGeni colony. The colonists are clearly on edge, almost firing on the squad before realising they’re not Geth. Apologies come quickly, mixed with relief.

“Thank god you’ve come. We’d begun to give up hope,” one colonist says, his eyes scanning behind them. “Wait… where’s David?”

Alexis feels her chest tighten. Delivering bad news is never easy. “I’m sorry. The Geth got him before we could stop it.”

The colonist’s face tightens briefly in mourning, but the expression vanishes as quickly as it came. Alexis frowns, confused by the lack of emotion, but there’s no time to dwell on it.

“He knew the risks,” the man says flatly. “Fai Dan will want to speak with you. He’s on the other side of the colony.” Without another word, the colonist turns back, resuming his watch over the entrance. Alexis exchanges a puzzled glance with Tali, who just shrugs.

Navigating through the colony, they eventually find the man called Fai Dan. Alexis assumes he’s the leader here, possibly in charge of the ExoGeni staff. His reaction is nearly identical to the first colonist’s—a mix of desperation and suspicion. “Thank god you’ve come. We’d begun to give up hope. We sent that distress call days ago. Surely you could’ve gotten here faster?” He pauses, his eyes narrowing. “Unless… you’re not from ExoGeni? Are you?”

Alexis shakes her head. “No, unfortunately not. We’re here to help though. Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy and Spectre.” She extends a hand, which Fai Dan takes with a mix of enthusiasm and caution. “How can we help?”

“We’ve been holding off the Geth for days,” Fai Dan explains, his voice tired. “But they just keep coming. There’s no end to their numbers. And any we kill that aren’t inside our lines get taken away, repaired, and sent back at us within hours. It’s only a matter of time before they break through again.”

“Again?” Alexis frowns. “If they broke through once, why didn’t they wipe you out then?”

Fai Dan nods grimly. “They broke down our barricades last night, cleared through the colony, and pushed us back into a corner. We lost a quarter of our people in the attack. And then… they just left. Gave us a few hours of peace and then came back stronger than ever.” He allows himself a small, weary smile. “Seeing your ship overhead was the first real hope we’ve had.”

Alexis scratches her head, her confusion growing. “That’s an odd strategy, even for synthetics. Where are they coming from?”

He points to the only other entrance to the colony aside from the one Alexis’s squad entered through. “Other side of the skyway. Damn Geth ship latched onto the tower over there. The main research base is there, with all the ExoGeni staff. The Geth hit that first and then came for us.”

Alexis’s brows furrow, her confusion growing. “Wait… you’re not with ExoGeni?”

“No, we’re just colonists. Those good-for-nothings study all this Prothean nonsense and leave us to fend for ourselves.” There’s a sneer in his voice, and Alexis can hear the bitterness, almost see it in the way his shoulders tighten. “Good riddance, I say. They don’t give us anything. They promised us a utopia, goddamnit!” His cheeks flush with anger, and Alexis notices that several other colonists around them react in kind, nodding or clenching their jaws. Fai Dan takes a deep breath, his voice a bit calmer but still laced with frustration. “Sorry. Not a lot of love for ExoGeni here.”

“I see.” Alexis takes a moment to look around, surveying the state of the colony. Makeshift barricades, tired and worn colonists, the tension in the air—this place has seen hell. “That may be, but if that’s where the Geth are coming from, that’s where we’re going. We’ll get rid of them.”

Fai Dan’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Are you insane? That’s where their numbers are thickest! Can’t your ship just blast them from orbit?!”

“No. The Geth will jam our weapons’ targeting systems. We’re just as likely to fire on your colony as we are to hit their ship. This is the only way.” Alexis’s voice is calm but resolute. She’s not here to debate. “How far is it to the other tower?”

Fai Dan blinks, recovering from his shock, though something about how quickly he regains his composure feels off to Alexis. “About a kilometre. You’ll never make it on foot.”

Alexis gives a half-smile, a hint of defiance in her eyes. “I’ve waded through worse.”

The colonist pauses, closing his eyes for barely a second as if making a decision. Alexis notices that several other colonists do the exact same thing at the exact same time, their movements eerily synchronised. Not even a delay. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end. Something is wrong here. She exchanges a glance with Tali and Ashley to her right. Both of them look equally unnerved, their eyes mirroring her suspicion. Kaidan, standing to her left, seems oblivious, focused more on assessing the colonists for any immediate threat than on their strange behaviour.

“You can use our vehicle,” Fai Dan finally says, his voice steady but lacking warmth. “We used it to take supplies to the researchers. The only ‘gift’ from ExoGeni that actually paid off. Military-grade tank, a Mako.”

A small smile spreads across Alexis’s face, there and gone in an instant. “Perfect. Thank you.”

The squad marches away, weapons drawn, moving with purpose as they leave the colony. They encounter a few Geth along the way, but the synthetics are swiftly dispatched, their remains scattered along the path. The squad approaches the garage, and Alexis spots the Mako—miraculously untouched. Relief washes over her, and she turns to the others, her grin widening.

“Ready for more of my driving?”

“I swear to the ancestors, don’t make me hack it and remote drive it,” Tali retorts, though Alexis can see the smile beneath Tali’s visor, her shoulders shaking with restrained laughter.

“Please tell me you can actually do that, Tali,” Kaidan says, a hopeful edge to his voice. “We might actually survive if you did.”

Alexis smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not that bad.”

Ashley chimes in, her expression deadpan, “I always thought I’d either die fighting an unbeatable enemy or of old age. ‘Killed by superior officer’s driving’ never actually crossed my mind.” She mimics air quotes at ‘superior officer’s driving,’ drawing an exaggerated eye roll from Alexis.

“I’ll drive carefully then. Jeez.” Alexis makes her way to the Mako, hopping into the driver’s seat and adjusting the controls. She’s tempted to play with the mass effect field settings, just for fun, but a stern look from Tali in the passenger’s seat stops her. Alexis sighs, turning her attention to the controls. “Right, let’s get rid of these Geth then.”

The garage door opens, revealing a warzone beyond. Geth outposts dot the skyway every hundred metres, each one a potential deathtrap. Alexis can see an Armature further down, looming ominously about halfway to the opposite tower. They’re still out of its range, but she knows they’ll have to deal with it soon enough—without the kind of cover they had back on Therum. Alexis powers up the Mako’s weapons, the main cannon blasting apart the first Geth outpost while Tali takes control of the smaller turret, expertly picking off stragglers the main gun can’t reach.

Alexis pushes the accelerator to the floor, the Mako surging forward as she weaves around obstacles. The first few outposts are obliterated with ease, and the tank’s mass and firepower are more than enough to crush or blast through the Geth defences. As they approach the Armature, she finds herself swerving more and more to avoid incoming fire; the Geth cannon blasts, shaking the ground around them.

Luckily, the skyway’s uneven terrain offers some respite—a rise in the road providing temporary cover. Alexis brings the Mako to a halt, positioning it just out of the Armature’s line of sight. “We’re going to have to take this one on foot. Let’s hope it doesn’t decide to turn our Mako into scrap while we’re at it.”

The squad quickly disembarks, taking cover under the pedestrian walkway that runs beneath the main road. They move swiftly, dismantling the Geth forces that come their way. The Armature’s main cannon fires sporadically, the blasts echoing through the openings in the walkway, forcing Alexis to duck behind cover more than once.

Finally, they get close enough to the Armature that it hesitates to use its main gun. At this range, it risks damaging itself as much as them. Instead, it unleashes a hail of bullets from its smaller, faster-firing weapons, sending streams of projectiles through the narrow entrances, effectively splitting the squad. Alexis, in the middle, takes on the most risk, with Ashley positioned beyond the second opening, giving Alexis a nod to confirm her position. Kaidan and Tali hold the back, Tali working her omni-tool with one hand while holding her pistol with the other, her focus intense.

Kaidan signals and Alexis edges closer to the opening with Ashley. He pops out first, drawing the Armature’s attention and its fire. As soon as it focuses on him, Alexis and Ashley spring into action, their assault rifles blazing. The Armature turns its fire back to them, forcing Alexis to move to the opposite entrance, Ashley providing cover. They repeat the manoeuvre, wearing down the Geth’s shields and targeting its joints, the synthetic becoming increasingly unsteady. One leg hangs by a few sparking wires, the Armature struggling to keep its balance.

Tali joins in, her pistol adding to the barrage. Her efforts pay off, the Geth’s shields flickering before shutting down entirely. Kaidan seizes the opportunity, charging up a singularity in his hand. He waits for the right moment, then steps out of cover, launching the swirling sphere of dark energy at the Geth. The biotic field tears into it, ripping off another leg and a large section of its armoured body. The Armature collapses, unable to support itself, its remaining legs splayed at awkward angles.

The squad closes in, switching to their shotguns as they approach. They fire in unison, blasting the fallen Geth until, finally, it gives a last, sputtering whine, its lights flickering and going dark. Alexis allows herself a moment to catch her breath, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins. One more obstacle down. One step closer to clearing out the Geth and getting answers.

The rest of their drive along the skyway is far easier, with only a few rocket troopers to tear apart using the Mako’s main gun. Alexis drives them all the way to the other side, entering the small garage and stopping in the cramped space. This must be ExoGeni’s actual base. The garage door closes behind them ominously, locking itself from the inside. The squad disembarks, hearing voices from down a small ramp—far too narrow to get the Mako through.

Alexis cautiously leads them forward, her assault rifle at the ready. The ramp leads to a small encampment, and the squad visibly relaxes when they see it isn’t full of Geth but of humans. One man near the barricade fires, the shot deflecting harmlessly off Alexis's barrier.

“That’s close enough! Don’t come any closer.” A nervous-looking man points a gun directly at Alexis's head as she moves into the centre of the camp. “Who are you?! What do you want?!”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Jeong, they’re obviously not Geth.” A woman beside him pipes up, her expression matching her exasperated tone.

“What about that one in the enviro-suit?! IT could be a Geth in disguise.”

Tali clenches her fists, resisting the urge to react, but before she can even consider it, Alexis moves. She disarms Jeong with a swift motion, taking his pistol, and then shoves him back, hard enough to send him sprawling. Alexis lets out an angry, guttural growl, a sound that seems almost feral, her rage palpable as she moves. “SHE is a Quarian. And I expect you to remember that.” Alexis's voice carries a low, growling undertone, a hint of that same Quarian vocalisation slipping through, her fury unmistakable. Alexis turns her attention to the woman, quickly getting her temper under control as she ignores Jeong's spluttering protests. “I’m Commander Alexis'Shepard. We’re here to get rid of your Geth problem.”

The woman looks visibly relieved. “I’m just glad to see a friendly face. We thought we might be the only humans left on the planet.”

Alexis raises an eyebrow. “The colonists at Zhu’s Hope are still alive. They’ve lost quite a few people, but they’re still holding on.”

The woman turns to Jeong, who has just managed to get back on his feet. “You said they were all dead!”

Jeong rolls his eyes. “Calm down, Juliana. I said they were ‘probably’ dead.”

Juliana looks close to tears. “We’ve been holding off the Geth for days. They’re relentless. I can’t believe the colonists are still alive.”

“They’re holding out for now.” Alexis looks between the two of them. “Where are the Geth coming from?”

Juliana answers quickly, cutting Jeong off before he can speak. “They’re in the ExoGeni headquarters, just a bit further along the skyway.”

Jeong steps forward, attempting to sound authoritative. “Those headquarters are private property, soldier. Remove the Geth and nothing else.”

Alexis gives him a cold stare. “Doing something you shouldn’t be, sir?” The sarcasm drips from her words.

“Of-of course not. You’re just not an ExoGeni employee.” Sweat beads on his forehead, and Alexis knows there’s more to this than he’s letting on.

“Right…” Alexis hands the pistol she took from Jeong to Juliana. “I’ll radio through once I’ve cleared out the Geth.”

She barely takes two steps before Juliana calls out. “Wait… Commander. My daughter… Lizbeth, she’s missing.”

Jeong scoffs. “They shouldn’t waste time poking around. We can account for the casualties once the Geth are gone.”

Juliana’s face flushes with rage. “How dare you! That’s my daughter you’re talking about, you bastard! She’s still alive! I know it!” She turns back to Alexis, her eyes filled with both hope and fear. “She was working in the ExoGeni building when the Geth attacked. If you find any sign of her, please…”

Alexis places a hand gently on Juliana’s shoulder. “If she’s there, we’ll find her. I promise. Stay here until I give the all-clear.” She gives Jeong one last stern look, daring him to say anything more. He remains silent, and Alexis leads her squad out, climbing back into the Mako.

Tali glances at Alexis from the passenger seat. Even after the times she’s seen Alexis leap to her defence, it still catches her by surprise. They’ve only been on this mission together for a little over a week, but there’s something about Alexis that makes you want to follow her into the depths of hell—and beyond. Even if Alexis didn’t immediately defend her as she did, Tali knows she’d still follow her anywhere.

The sound of Alexis's growl lingers in Tali's mind, a reassurance of her loyalty. Tali feels her chest tighten, not with fear, but with something deeper—a warmth that fills her heart. She finds herself smiling beneath her visor, appreciating the vocal reminder that Alexis stands by her.

“Thank you,” Tali whispers, her voice so quiet that neither Ashley nor Kaidan hear it. Alexis nods in response, not making a big deal of it, even though Tali knows it is.

The Mako bursts back onto the skyway, its guns blazing. This section of the road is shorter, but the Geth presence here is even thicker than before. The squad eyes the Geth ship latched onto the side of the massive skyscraper ahead. Several metallic arms have pierced the building’s exterior walls, anchoring the ship in place. They’ll have to destroy those anchors or find a way to disable them to get rid of the Geth for good. Alexis swears she’s going to overheat the Mako’s main gun with how much she’s pushing it, but finally, they make it through, leaving only smoking hunks of metal and wires in their wake.

Their path forward is blocked by a narrow entrance, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side—definitely too tight for the bulk of the Mako. Alexis manoeuvres the tank out of sight, doing her best to shield it from any potential Geth bombardment. The squad disembarks, moving calmly into the building. The first room contains only a few Geth, which they easily dispatch from a distance.

Alexis scouts ahead, taking in the wide-open area. It had once been welcoming, but now, scorch marks and bodies litter the floor, destroying any sense of comfort it once held. There are only two ways forward—one blocked by a glowing blue shield that nearly obscures even their vision of what lies beyond. Alexis taps it with her finger and quickly pulls back as a sharp jolt of electricity surges through her suit. “We’re not getting through this without more firepower than we have.”

Tali sidles up next to Alexis, inspecting the shield. “The Geth have extremely effective shielding technology. Even the Mako’s main gun would struggle to get through this. We’ll need to find the power source and shut it down.”

“Looks like we’re going the other way, then.” Alexis follows the rest of the squad off a small ledge, landing on a lower floor. Kaidan takes point, leading them through a corridor that gradually darkens, forcing them to switch on their suit lights. A noise from behind causes Alexis to spin around, her weapon raised, but there’s nothing there.

Their path twists through tight corners until it opens into another large chamber. Alexis hears another noise from behind, her heart pounding as she turns—again, nothing. It feels like they’re being followed. As they cautiously progress, a Geth suddenly bursts out from the far corridor, its synthetic voice echoing ominously. It opens fire immediately, forcing the squad to dive behind the scant cover provided by some overturned stone tables.

The room erupts with the sound of gunfire, muzzles flashing in the darkened space. Geth continue to pour in, threatening to overwhelm them with sheer numbers. Alexis can feel the stone beginning to crack behind her, and she knows they won’t be able to hold their position for long.

Squeezed next to Kaidan, they both do their best, raising their rifles to return fire whenever they can, sending biotic shockwaves to force the Geth into cover. Despite Kaidan's power, he struggles to create the leverage needed for an effective biotic assault in their current position. Tali, as usual, is focused on hacking through the Geth’s shields, occasionally lifting her shotgun to fire blindly over the cover. Ashley, meanwhile, has positioned herself behind a pillar, giving her a much better angle to attack. She moves further along the wall, using the gaps to her advantage until she has the perfect position to flank their attackers.

With the Geth caught in a crossfire, their defences start to falter. Ashley’s precise shots take down several, giving Alexis and Kaidan more freedom to move. Alexis takes her chance, rolling to a new position behind a pillar on the opposite side of the room.

Tali’s hack works just as Alexis reaches her new cover. The entire squad emerges, unleashing a relentless barrage of fire on the remaining Geth. Tali sends overloads and incinerations, forcing the synthetics to retreat. Ashley lobs a grenade, the explosion sending several Geth flying, and Kaidan finishes them off with rifle fire, using his biotics to weaken their defences.

Silence falls over the room; the only sounds are the settling of debris and the crackle of damaged Geth circuitry. Alexis steps over the fallen enemies, her rifle trained on each one as she passes, ensuring they are well and truly dead. Satisfied, she gives the all-clear, signalling her squad to move forward.

The noise sounds again behind them, and this time, all of them hear it. Instinctively, they spin in unison, weapons trained on the source.

"WAIT, DON’T SHOOT!" The desperate voice cuts through the tension, and all four flashlights converge on the figure, nearly blinding the individual. Alexis raises her fist, signalling the squad to lower their weapons.

A young woman stands before them, several obvious wounds marring her body—most likely from Geth weaponry. It looks as though she has patched herself up with medi-gel, but the blood soaking through her uniform suggests the injuries had been quite serious. One arm is crossed tightly over her chest, clutching her side where the stains are darkest.

She stumbles forward, and Alexis moves quickly, catching her just before she collapses. Gently, she helps the woman settle against a pillar, and the young woman lets out a shaky, tired smile. Relief is evident in her features, her voice barely a whisper, "I knew someone would come."

Alexis can hear the raw dryness in her voice—this woman hasn't had water in days, let alone food. She reaches for the small canteen strapped to her belt, holding it out. "Here, you need it." The woman nods gratefully, drinking from it until it’s drained. Alexis waits until she looks back up, her eyes now a little more focused. "You wouldn’t happen to be Lizbeth, would you?" Alexis asks.

"How… How do you know my name?" Lizbeth’s words come out with a mix of confusion and exhaustion.

"Your mother asked me to find you while we deal with the Geth." Alexis gestures towards the wounds Lizbeth bears. "Do you mind if I take a look?" Lizbeth gives a small, tired shake of her head, and Alexis carefully moves her arm aside to inspect the wound on her side. It’s shallower than Alexis feared, and she lets out a quiet sigh of relief. "It’s just a glancing blow—you’ll be all right." She applies a fresh dose of medi-gel, and Lizbeth whimpers softly as the anaesthetic effect kicks in. Slowly, a bit of colour returns to her face.

"Thank you." Lizbeth’s voice is slightly stronger now. "I’ve been hiding for days... The Geth, they just wouldn’t stop looking." She tries to sit up straighter, her gaze shifting to each member of the squad in turn. "That’ll teach me to stick around to back up data... Should’ve run when everyone else did."

"You're safe now," Alexis says, hoping to reassure her. "Do you know why the Geth are here? The Prothean ruins aren’t exactly a major find."

"They must be after the…" Lizbeth trails off, her expression suddenly unsure.

"After the…?" Alexis prompts, her voice serious. She doesn’t have time for secrets or corporate nonsense. "Look, I’m here to stop the Geth. The sooner we know what they want, the sooner we can deal with it. You can tell me."

Lizbeth hesitates for a moment before something like resolve crosses her features. "They’re after the Thorian."

Alexis frowns and exchanges a confused look with the others. "And the Thorian is...?"

"It’s an Indigenous life form," Lizbeth explains. "That’s why ExoGeni is really here. The Prothean ruins—they’re just a front."

"Where can we find it?" Alexis feels her curiosity piqued. Could a single life form really be the reason for all this trouble? Why would the Geth expend so much effort here?

Lizbeth’s hesitation returns, uncertainty clear in her eyes. "I think I can help you find it," she finally says. "But we need to get out of here first, and that barrier has to come down."

Alexis bites back her frustration, deciding to press on with the mission. "Do you know how we can bring it down? We didn’t see anything on this side."

Lizbeth shakes her head slightly. "Not exactly… but I think the Geth ship is powering it. They’ve been laying power cables everywhere—you should be able to follow them to whatever’s feeding that shield." She tries to move, but her whole body protests, trembling with the effort. She groans, clutching her side. "I don’t think I’ll get very far, not with the Geth all over the place." She looks to Alexis, her gaze hopeful and expectant.

Kaidan steps forward. "I’ll stay with her, Commander. You, Ash, and Tali carry on. We’ll catch up once it’s safe."

Alexis nods. "Good idea, Lieutenant. I’ll radio the all-clear when the way is secure."

They start to move off, but Lizbeth calls out, "Wait, Commander!" Alexis turns back, and Lizbeth extends a small keycard towards her. "Take my ID—it’ll get you into any of the ExoGeni computers. Might help you make sense of all this."

Alexis takes the card, nodding her thanks. Lizbeth’s arm falls limply back to her side, her eyes closing as she tries to rest. Her exhaustion is palpable. Alexis leans in close to Kaidan, murmuring a few words. "Keep an eye on her, Lieutenant. Make sure she stays safe."

With that, they move off, leaving Kaidan behind with Lizbeth. Alexis feels a pang of doubt—was this really the best option? Splitting up always carries risks, but she can’t just leave Lizbeth to fend for herself against the Geth. No, she tells herself, she’s doing the right thing.

“Uhh…” Alexis glances at her two squad mates, both of them gesturing around the room. “What was the Krogan asking about?”

“The previous user of this terminal requested information on Species 37, the Thorian. As he did not have Alpha-Level Clearance, I was unable to answer his inquiry.”

“Can you tell me?” Alexis subconsciously crosses her fingers, hoping Lizbeth is far higher ranked in ExoGeni than her age suggests.

“Of course. Do you have a specific inquiry?”

“Okay… what is the Thorian, exactly?”

“Species 37 is a species of flora, unique to Feros. It is currently unknown whether or not more than one member of its species exists, or whether it is a single organism spread out over a wide area. It exhibits a sentient behaviour uncommon with other flora.”

“Where is it?”

“Species 37’s central node is located beneath the colony of Zhu’s Hope. The status of Species 37 is currently unknown.”

Alexis's eyes widen at the location. “Under Zhu’s Hope?”

“Species 37 is located within the substructure of Zhu’s Hope. Unfortunately, there is no new data available, as all sensors have been inactive for several cycles.”

“Tell me everything you know about the Thorian.”

“The Thorian has the unique ability to control other organisms through the dispersion and eventual inhalation of spores. This includes the control of humans. It is assumed the same could be said of other sentient species, but data is not available to corroborate this assumption. The Zhu’s Hope control group has yielded interesting results. Before all sensors were deactivated, almost 85% of all test subjects had been infected.”

“Woah woah woah.” Alexis holds up her hand, stopping the VI from going any further, “So ExoGeni knew the colonists were being infected? And they let it happen?”

“That is correct. It was deemed necessary to evaluate the true potential of Species 37.”

Tali exclaims, “That’s why the colonists were acting so weird! They were all infected by this thing. If the Thorian is controlling them, it would explain why they all were reacting at the same time.”

Alexis looks back at Tali, “You saw that too? It was creeping me the fuck out.”

“We should contact Joker, make sure he’s keeping the Normandy on lockdown,” Ashley calls their attention back to the task at hand.

“Good idea, Chief.” Alexis tries to connect through to the Normandy, “Alexis to Normandy, do you read?” Only static comes through her earpiece, “Damnit. The Geth must be jamming the signal.” She turns back to the VI, “Can you tell me anything about what the Geth have set in place here?”

“I have limited data on the Geth. They are effectively blocking all communication and sensors within the facility. I have detected unusual power fluctuations but am unable to determine the exact source.”

Alexis glances around the room, cocking her eyebrow at the hologram, “Really? Can’t determine the source?”

Tali gives a brief bubble of laughter, “VIs don’t understand sarcasm, Alexis. I think we’re on our own for this one.” She is already moving toward a Geth console, breaking off a panel on its front. Within a few minutes, the Quarian has hacked through the Geth’s cyber defences and accessed the schematics for the claw that is currently burrowed into the building. She lifts her arm to show Alexis, pointing to the small display produced by her omni-tool, “If we can cut the power, the Geth ship will fall. They’re running so much power through these wires that it should cause a surge powerful enough to knock out all their systems at once.”

Alexis looks at the huge power cable running into the claw. The housing is made of the same material as the Geth’s armour, so in theory, their weapons would cut through it, but they have no way of knowing how thick it is and, therefore, how much time it would take. “Anyway to do it without cutting this?”

Tali ponders the question for a moment, “Maybe.” She takes the ID off Alexis's belt, turning to the ExoGeni VI, “Are you connected to the Geth’s systems in any way?”

“The Geth have connected to this building’s power network. I am unable to access the Geth’s systems but can monitor their power intake.”

The Quarian smiles to herself. Jackpot. “Can you transfer all power to the Geth’s systems?”

“I can.”

“Do it.”

“Acknowledged, Research Assistant Lizbeth Baynham. All power for ExoGeni facility transferring to Geth systems in 3…2…1…”

There is a rumbling throughout the building as the VI abruptly switches off. The Geth consoles around the room begin to overload, their power cores frying in a matter of seconds. Alexis swears she can feel the immense wave of electricity streaming through the Geth’s power cables, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. A loud groaning echoes through the space as the Geth’s claw begins to shift ever so slowly. Its hold on the building slackens, slowly sliding its way out of the wall. The movement picks up speed, daylight flooding the room as the claw finally comes free. The three women dive out of the way as it smashes through the floor, tumbling out of the building completely. Alexis runs to the edge, daring to lean outside and watch as the Geth ship plummets down the immensely tall building and finally out of sight below the clouds.

Joker’s voice suddenly crackles through their radio, almost deafening the three women. “Commander! Do you read me? Shepard!”

“Joker! What’s your status?”

“Bloody hell, I’ve been trying to reach you since you left the colony. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but the colonists have gone crazy. They’re beating on the door, firing at the hull. Pressley pulled the Marines back inside when they wouldn't back off,” Joker almost sounds worried, but Alexis brushes it off, knowing the Normandy’s hull can take anything the colonists could even possibly throw at it.

“We’re on our way back now, and we’ve dealt with the Geth. If it gets too much, pull the Normandy back and wait for my signal.”

“Understood, Commander.”

Alexis turns back to Ashley and Tali, “Right, let’s get back there. Kaidan, you still on this channel?”

“Read you loud and clear, Commander.”

“Go back to where we jumped down, we need to get back to Zhu’s Hope ASAP.”

“Yes, ma’am. Meet you there.”

They make their way through the building, following schematics, Tali has managed to pull from ExoGeni’s systems. There are several Geth stragglers walking around almost aimlessly. Tali explains it is because of how the Geth are set up to function, connecting together and making each other greater than the sum of their parts. These ones are now far less threatening after severing the connection to what Tali guesses was thousands, if not millions, of Geth programs within their ship. The squad makes quick, easy work of them, but the synthetics barely put up even an attempt to fight back. They soon find their way to the place the barrier had previously been, now absent since destroying the Geth ship’s hold on the skyscraper. Alexis makes her way to where they jumped, finding Kaidan supporting a still very haggard-looking Lizbeth. She holds out her hand, hoisting Kaidan out.

"Okay, Lizbeth. Kaidan is going to lift you out with biotics so I can grab you. Ready?" Alexis says, her voice calm but firm, trying to reassure the visibly nervous Lizbeth.

The young woman swallows and nods, her eyes wide. Kaidan carefully surrounds her in a shimmering blue biotic field, tendrils of energy wrapping around her like a gentle cradle. Slowly, Lizbeth is lifted out of the hole. She hovers mid-air, her breath hitching, before Alexis reaches out, her gauntlet steady as she grabs hold of Lizbeth, guiding her out and helping her regain her footing.

"Got you," Alexis murmurs as she hoists Lizbeth to her feet. With the young woman slightly shorter, Alexis easily slings Lizbeth's arm around her own shoulders, supporting her as they hobble back toward the entrance of the building.

As they near the entrance, Alexis’s tone shifts, becoming more clipped. "We need to talk." Alexis’s voice is low, but her eyes are piercing, filled with a quiet, dangerous intensity.

"You know about the Thorian, I take it?" Lizabeth says, her voice quiet.

They come to a stop at the entrance, just out of sight of whatever defences the Geth may have prepared on the skyway. Alexis turns, standing directly in front of Lizbeth, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression deadly serious. "And about what ExoGeni has been doing with it, yes?"

Lizbeth visibly flinches, trying to gather herself. "We haven’t done anything!" she blurts out, then immediately regrets it, her voice dropping. "Not directly, at least. The original colony... it was all for the Prothean ruins here. But when they started getting infected—"

"—you decided to cut them off?" Alexis interrupts, her eyes narrowing, a bitter edge to her voice. "Just let them turn into slaves, instead of helping them?"

Lizbeth’s face crumples, and tears well up in her eyes. "No! I was against it from the start!" Her voice cracks, her exhaustion evident. "ExoGeni put me on probation for opposing them. I’m amazed my ID even helped you at all. I never wanted this! You have to believe me!" She looks pleadingly at Alexis, desperation clear in her gaze.

The fury in Alexis’s eyes slowly softens, replaced by something akin to understanding. "I believe you," she says, her tone gentler now, though her expression remains guarded. She pauses, considering their options. "With what we know now about the Thorian, it’s unlikely the colonists will let us anywhere near it willingly. Is there any other way to get to it that doesn't involve going through Zhu’s Hope?"

Lizbeth shakes her head. "No... the lower levels are completely blocked off. You’d need industrial mining equipment to even try. The roots of the Thorian extend for miles, but cutting them won’t do much. And honestly, I don’t even know if destroying the node under Zhu’s Hope will help the colonists." Her voice trembles, the uncertainty weighing heavily on her.

Alexis sighs, running a gloved hand down her face in frustration. "And they’ll defend it to the death," she mutters to herself, before an idea sparks. She looks back at Lizbeth, her eyes narrowing. "Did ExoGeni ever have a way to get near the Thorian without harming the colonists? Anything for studying it up close?"

Lizbeth blinks, her face lighting up with a glimmer of hope. "Well... my mother and Jeong were developing a gas. It was meant to put anyone infected down for a few hours—non-lethally. They thought it might be the only way to approach the Thorian without violence... not that ExoGeni cared much about non-lethal options unless it helped their research." Her voice turns bitter, her anger evident.

Alexis nods, determination hardening her gaze. "Hopefully, they’ve figured out a way to deliver it." She glances at Tali and Kaidan. "Let’s move."

The return trip across the skyway proves to be far easier than their initial run. The Geth have attempted to replenish their forces, but without their ship, they are scattered and disorganised. Alexis expertly pilots the Mako, blasting through the few remaining Geth outposts with ease. Finally, the vehicle grinds to a halt outside the small hideaway where the ExoGeni scientists are holed up. Alexis helps Lizbeth out of the Mako, steadying her as they make their way down the short ramp.

"LIZBETH!" Juliana’s voice rings out in relief, the older woman rushing forward, her eyes wide with emotion. She pulls her daughter into a fierce embrace, only for Lizbeth to wince, a hiss of pain escaping through her teeth. Juliana immediately loosens her grip, her eyes scanning the injuries.

"Are you alright?" Juliana’s voice is soft, worried, as she cups her daughter’s face in her hands.

"I’m fine, Mum. A bit bruised, but I'll be okay," Lizbeth reassures her, though her voice wavers slightly.

Juliana helps Lizbeth over to a small bench, and Alexis stands back, watching the exchange silently, giving them their moment. She knows she's about to shatter the temporary relief of this reunion, and the least she can do is let them have it, even if only briefly.

But then Jeong approaches, his expression one of impatience, and Alexis feels her irritation spike. "Did you get rid of the Geth?" he asks, his tone demanding.

Alexis’s eyes narrow, her gaze turning dark. She marches forward until she is barely a foot away from him, her presence towering. "We got rid of the Geth," she says, her voice icy. "And I found something else. Something rather interesting."

Jeong’s face contorts in anger. "You looked at the files, didn’t you? I expressly forbade you! Those are ExoGeni property, you had no right—"

His rant is cut short as Alexis grabs his shirt, effortlessly lifting him off the ground, her face inches from his. Her voice drops to a furious growl, her accent thickening in her anger. "Say one more word, and I will do far more than just arrest you for standing by while an entire colony was enslaved by an unknown species." Her voice echoes across the small hideaway, the conversations around them falling silent, everyone turning to watch. She drops Jeong unceremoniously to the ground, crouching down to meet his wide-eyed stare. "At least one of you had the guts to rebel against this," she hisses. "Now, Lizbeth was kind enough to tell me about a non-lethal means to put the colonists down. You’re going to give it to me, and then stay here until I’ve dealt with the Thorian and it's safe to leave."

Jeong stammers, fear mingling with his indignation. "Y-you can’t destroy it! We’ll lose months of research!"

"For god’s sake, Jeong!" Juliana interrupts, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and exasperation. "The Thorian is enslaving people! I’ve gone along with this for too long. We have to stop it."

Jeong clenches his jaw, his face flushing with fury, but he doesn’t speak, his fear of Alexis keeping him silent. Juliana steps away, returning moments later with a small metal case. She hands it to Alexis. "Lizbeth was right. We developed these to deal with the colonists, in case we ever needed to eliminate the Thorian." She opens the case, revealing several gas grenades inside. "They’ll put the colonists down without killing them. We’ve tested them—they work."

Alexis considers asking how they tested it, but decides against it. She doesn’t really want to know. She gives a curt nod. "Thank you." She raises her voice, speaking to the group of scientists. "Once the Thorian is gone and it’s safe, I’ll radio for you to call for an evac." She hesitates for a moment, then adds, her voice softening, "You might all want to take a long, hard look at what you did here. Ask yourselves if it was truly right... or if you just followed orders without question."

The silence that follows her words is heavy, the scientists exchanging uneasy glances. Alexis turns without another word, her squad falling in line behind her as they make their way back to the Mako.

The drive towards Zhu’s Hope is quiet; the only sounds are the rumble of the Mako’s engine and the occasional blast of its main gun. The Geth presence on this section of the skyway is almost nonexistent—barely even a token force left to oppose them.

Alexis drives the Mako towards the garage that would lead them back to the colony. The moment the door opens and the Mako's nose peeks through, it's met with a torrent of gunfire. The shields blare warnings inside the tank, red lights flickering. Swearing under her breath, Alexis slams the vehicle into reverse, spinning it clear of the doorway before parking it just to the side of the entrance.

"Out, everyone!" she barks, her voice cutting through the alarms. The squad leaps from the Mako, weapons ready. Alexis takes a cautious step forward, tentatively poking her head around the corner to assess the situation, only to jerk it back as a sniper's round nearly takes her head off, scraping the surface of her helmet. "Bloody hell," she mutters, exhaling sharply.

Quickly, she peeks again, just enough to assess the barricades ahead. There are six colonists, spread out across makeshift defences. They're stationed far enough apart that one of their gas grenades won’t cover all of them. And there are others—figures moving just beyond the colonists. Humanoid, but clearly non-human. Alexis frowns, not recognising them. She hopes they won't complicate matters too much.

She turns back to her team, pulling out her assault rifle, the familiar weight steady in her hands. "Shields at max when we go in. It’s going to be heavy fire. We move left and flank them. No deadly force on the colonists unless absolutely necessary. Shoot to wound if you have to—arms or legs. And conserve the grenades; we’ve got limited numbers, so save them for when they’re grouped up."

With her orders given, Alexis spins around the corner, holding her rifle steady. She fires above the colonists' heads, a barrage that forces them to duck behind their barricades. She glances around, taking in the state of the garage they'd used to access the colony. It's a mess—cracks running through every wall, chunks of roof scattered on the ground, debris that now serves as makeshift cover.

She darts towards one of the fallen pieces of ceiling, crouching behind it. Her squad follows, only to be peppered with gunfire from the colonists. The concrete splinters, fragments falling around her. Alexis is just about to order them forward when she’s hit from the side, something heavy slamming into her and knocking her off balance.

It’s one of the humanoid creatures she saw earlier. It’s gaunt, with grey skin stretched tight over its skeletal frame, its eyes sunken, almost lifeless. It pummels her armour with surprisingly feeble blows, clawed hands scratching at her helmet. The creature’s strength isn’t enough to penetrate her armour, but its relentless attack keeps her from rejoining the fight. Alexis grunts, wrestling to throw it off, when Kaidan suddenly appears. He grabs the thing by its shoulders, yanking it off her and blasting a hole through its chest with his rifle. The creature collapses, a dark green liquid oozing from the wound, pooling beneath it.

Alexis takes a moment to catch her breath, her gaze narrowing at the sight of the creature’s body. It’s unsettling—the way its grey flesh clings to the bones beneath, the empty stare of its lifeless eyes. She shakes her head, pushing down the questions that arise. There isn’t time. There are people to save.

Ashley vaults over the cover, sprinting towards the nearest colonist. The man stumbles back, taken by surprise, but Ashley moves with precision, tearing the rifle from his hands and tossing it aside. She swings her rifle, the butt of the gun catching him in the jaw and knocking him out cold.

Alexis raises her rifle, taking careful shots at three colonists, her rounds striking their legs. They crumple, dropping their weapons, groaning in pain. From the corner of her eye, she spots two more of the grey-skinned creatures lunging at her, their movements erratic, almost frenzied. She pivots, aiming at point-blank range and putting them down before they can reach her.

Tali rushes towards another colonist, opting for close combat. Her omni-tool sparks to life, a jolt of electricity arcing from her fist as she drives it into the woman’s side. The colonist collapses, her body convulsing from the shock, her weapon clattering to the floor.

Kaidan pushes through the creatures, his rifle blazing, biotic fields throwing them aside. He charges at the last colonist, the man struggling to hold his ground, his face twisted in fear. Kaidan’s relentless advance ends with a swift kick to the side of the man’s head, knocking him unconscious before turning his attention back to the remaining creatures.

The room falls silent, save for the pained groans of the colonists still conscious. Alexis takes a deep breath, pulling the pin from one of the gas grenades. She motions for her team to fall back, then throws the grenade towards the colonists. A thick cloud of gas quickly fills the air, their groans fading as they succumb to the sedative.

Alexis waits a beat, then nods, satisfied. "It works. Let’s move." They advance, flashlights illuminating the darkened hallways ahead. The first stretch is empty—eerily so—but the stairwell leading up is another story.

At the base of the stairs, Alexis presses her back against the wall, taking stock of the group of colonists gathered at the top. Their rifles are trained downwards, their faces blank, devoid of emotion. The concrete pillar she’s using for cover begins to chip, the relentless gunfire cracking the surface. She turns her head slightly. "Vacuum seal your suits!" she orders the two without sealed suits, her voice cutting through the chaos.

She hears the hisses of her squad’s suits sealing. Alexis pulls another grenade from her belt, tossing it up the stairs. The colonists hesitate as the canister clatters at their feet, a moment of confusion she doesn’t waste. She charges up the stairs, her boots pounding against the concrete even as the gas begins to spread. She reaches the colonists, disarming them swiftly, throwing their weapons down the stairs.

They swing at her, but their movements are sluggish, their eyes glassy as the gas takes hold. Alexis weaves between them, knocking them to the ground. They grope at her boots, their attempts at resistance weak, until finally, they fall still.

The squad pushes onward, their advance efficient, methodical. The deeper they go, the denser the colonists become, forcing them to use the grenades sparingly. Each one takes out several colonists at a time, clearing a path, but the closer they get to the colony's core, the more relentless the opposition becomes.

"Only two grenades left each," Alexis mutters, glancing at the others. The weight of their situation sinks in—they’re running out, and the colonists are still coming. They need to make every one count.

They gather around the final hallway leading to the colony. Alexis steals a glance, confirming her suspicions. A barricade, hastily constructed but effective, blocks the path. Four colonists crouch behind it, rifles trained on the hallway. She can see more further back, ready to strike if needed.

She nods to Kaidan, and he puts away his weapons, dark energy crackling around his arms as he reinforces his biotic barriers. Slowly, deliberately, he steps into the hallway, with the rest of the squad following, staying low, waiting for the right moment.

The colonists grow more frantic, their shots becoming erratic as they fail to halt the squad's advance. Panic flashes in their eyes, their bodies twisting in pain as their survival instincts clash with the Thorian's control.

Alexis and Kaidan reach the barricade, Ashley stepping forward to lob a grenade over their shield. It lands amidst the colonists, the gas spreading quickly, obscuring everything in a dense cloud. Alexis takes a deep breath, steadying herself before they charge through.

Emerging on the other side, the colonists barely have time to react before Alexis and Kaidan are upon them, disarming them and knocking them out with swift, precise strikes. They continue through the colony, their movements are seamless, and each member of the squad falls into a rhythm—Ashley covering their flanks, Tali providing tech support, and Kaidan and Alexis leading the charge.

Their breaths come hard, the strain of holding back, of fighting without killing, wearing on them. The gas hangs heavy in the air, and they keep their helmets sealed, not daring to breathe in the residual spores. The final colonists fall, the last grenade deployed, and they stand in the eerie silence of the colony, the groans of the unconscious the only sound.

Alexis looks around, her eyes scanning the darkened buildings. The Thorian’s lair lies somewhere below them. "Spread out," she orders, her voice carrying across the quiet. "We need to find a way down there before the colonists wake up."

There seems to be no obvious way to get underneath the colony—at least, until Tali calls Alexis over. "Alexis, take a look at this. I don't think this was always here."

The object she points at is a large container, closed at both ends, seemingly out of place. It stands, bulky and imposing, with no apparent reason for being where it is. Alexis frowns, kneeling to examine the ground around it. Her eyes follow Tali's direction, zeroing in on a thin dark line at one end of the container. She can hear the faint hiss of air escaping from beneath. 

"The colonists must’ve covered up the entrance," Alexis mutters, piecing it together, "to stop anyone from getting down there."

"And we can't blow it open without collapsing the entire place," Tali adds. "They must've moved it somehow."

Alexis's gaze shifts, catching sight of a rusted crane at the edge of the settlement. She grins, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Bingo."

With a few careful manoeuvres, the crane lumbers into action, shifting the container with a creaking protest that echoes through the deserted colony. It reveals a staircase descending into darkness—a steep, winding passage disappearing into the unknown. Alexis peers into the black void. The stairs seem endless, disappearing beyond the reach of her flashlight. She swallows, feeling a tinge of unease creep up her spine.

"Looks pleasant," she says dryly. Her light shines into the darkness, but it gives no comfort, revealing nothing but more shadows.

"No time like the present." Alexis gestures for the others to follow as she steps cautiously onto the top step, her rifle at the ready.

The stairs stretch on for what feels like an eternity, the air around them thickening, the darkness pressing in. Her flashlight beam flickers over the rough walls, dust swirling in the stale air with each step. The further down they go, the more oppressive it becomes—a weight that seems to cling to their suits. Alexis nearly stumbles when the staircase abruptly ends, her feet catching on the last step. 

"Careful, it's a drop," she warns, her voice echoing faintly. She takes a cautious step forward, catching sight of dim light filtering from around a corner ahead. The squad moves silently, inching forward, and then they round the corner—and every one of them stops in their tracks.

"Holy fuck…" Alexis breathes out, her voice almost drowned by the ambient noise of the Thorian.

They've emerged on a small balcony, suspended above an enormous, cavernous void, the entirety of which is dominated by what Alexis can only assume is the Thorian itself. The plant is massive—a grotesque, pulsating entity that looks like some twisted mockery of a brain, its bulbous surface covered in networks of vine-like tendrils. Roots thicker than a Krogan's chest stretch out like veins, anchoring themselves deep into the surrounding structure, splitting and breaking through the concrete walls.

Spores hang in the air, thick and heavy, sticking to the outside of their suits almost instantly. Alexis grimaces, feeling an instinctive revulsion as she watches the Thorian’s mass rise and fall rhythmically, as if breathing. Every pulse sends another cloud of spores into the space, making the air almost shimmer with their presence. She dares to glance over the edge of the balcony, spotting the roots plunging downwards into a bottomless chasm, their ends disappearing into the dark. If they could sever those…

Her thoughts are cut short by an unearthly screech, piercing and unnatural. The squad spins in unison, weapons raised. A swarm of Thorian creatures emerges from the darkness, their gaunt forms scrambling up the staircase towards them, limbs twitching unnaturally.

"Here they come!" Ashley shouts, and Alexis braces herself, aiming her rifle.

The creatures rush forward, their bodies contorted, eyes lifeless. Alexis fires, each pull of the trigger sending another one crumpling back. They keep coming, climbing over their fallen comrades, their numbers seemingly unending.

Tali is at her side, her omni-tool glowing as she manipulates her suit’s systems, boosting her shield. She shoots Alexis a glance, and Alexis nods, allowing Tali to tap into her own suit as well. The familiar hum of increased shield output vibrates through Alexis's armour, and she feels her suit tighten around her, reinforcing against the onslaught.

The platform shudders as more Thorian creatures flood the area, their screeches echoing ominously. One lunges towards Alexis, its claws extended, and she pivots, smashing the butt of her rifle into its face, sending it sprawling. The ground beneath them rumbles ominously, cracks forming in the walls, and the entire structure groans, a chilling resonance that reverberates through the chamber.

A guttural groan rolls through the cavern—deep, resonant, almost like the Thorian itself is crying out. Alexis feels her heart skip a beat. It’s as if the plant is aware—conscious—and it knows what they’re trying to do.

“We’ve got to take this thing down, now!” Alexis shouts, her voice urgent. She charges towards the staircase, the squad following her lead. She leaps down, landing heavily, her armour absorbing the impact. Creatures swarm up to meet her, and she fires, cutting them down as she moves. Her eyes catch sight of one of the massive roots—thick, sinewy, holding the Thorian aloft.

"Hit the roots!" she calls, sprinting forward. She unloads her rifle, bullets tearing into the root, dark green chlorophyll-like fluid splattering from each puncture, slicking the floor beneath her. The others join her, their combined firepower focused on severing the root.

A resounding crack echoes through the void as the root snaps, the Thorian shuddering above them, the weight pulling it down, straining the remaining roots. Alexis looks up, noticing the shift in the plant’s position—it’s lopsided now, the other roots struggling under the strain. They might not have to take them all out—just enough for the weight to overwhelm what remains.

They press forward, the creatures coming at them in waves, their forms barely discernible in the dim light. Alexis switches to her shotgun, the heavy blasts more effective at close range, each shot taking down a creature. The hallway twists, leading them down another flight of stairs, and as soon as they get a clear line of sight, they unleash everything they have on the next root. 

Creatures come at them from both the front and back now, the space claustrophobic, the sounds of battle deafening. Alexis and Tali focus on the front, their shots precise, while Kaidan and Ashley cover their rear, holding the line against the seemingly endless tide of thralls. 

They reach the bottom, emerging into another long hallway, almost identical to the one above—except for something new. In the centre of the hallway, a fleshy, bulbous sac pulses, suspended by thick tendrils extending from the ceiling and floor. It quivers, almost as if it’s breathing, and with a sickening, wet sound, it seems to convulse, pushing something out from within.

Alexis’s eyes widen as she sees an Asari, her skin an unnatural green hue, spill from the sac. Her movements are jerky, uncoordinated, as if she’s fighting against invisible strings. Slowly, her head lolls back, her eyes locking onto Alexis. The hatred in them is unmistakable, raw and furious. And then, without warning, she charges.

Biotic energy crackles around the Asari, and before Alexis can react, she’s tackled to the ground. The impact knocks the wind from her, and she struggles to raise her arms, the Asari’s fists slamming into her with a strength driven by rage. Pain flares in her ribs as the blows connect, her armour doing little to cushion the force. She grabs hold of the Asari's wrists, gritting her teeth, her helmet inches from the Asari’s snarling face.

With a grunt of effort, Alexis swings her head forward, slamming her helmet into the Asari’s nose. There’s a sickening crunch, and the Asari reels back, green blood splattering across Alexis’s visor. She rolls, getting her feet under her, pushing herself upright. The Asari is already back on her feet, her face twisted in a grimace, the blood flowing freely from her broken nose.

This time, Alexis is ready. The Asari lunges, but Alexis sidesteps, driving her fist into the Asari’s ribs. She feels the bone give beneath the impact, the Asari stumbling. Alexis doesn’t hesitate—she plants her foot against the Asari’s chest and kicks, sending her flying backwards. The Asari’s scream cuts off abruptly as she collides with the Thorian, her body crumpling against the massive plant, sliding limply to the ground.

Alexis takes a moment, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, wiping the green blood from her helmet. She retrieves her shotgun just in time to swing it into another approaching creature, the butt of the weapon slamming into its face. She fires, the blast tearing through its chest, then spins, keeping the advancing creatures at bay.

The squad pushes forward, their movements relentless. More of the mutated Asari appear, but they’re prepared now. Each one is cut down before they can get close, their bodies falling amidst the Thorian’s roots. 

Another root snaps under their sustained fire, and the Thorian lets out a groan, its form swaying dangerously, slamming into the side of the cavern. Dust and debris rain down as the structure shudders, the massive plant teetering, on the brink of collapse.

They press on, pushing through the remaining creatures, until finally, they reach the last root. The Thorian’s groans are almost desperate now, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates through the space. Alexis steps forward, her eyes locked on the final root.

The Thorian’s creatures have stopped coming, the plant seeming to understand its fate. The silence is eerie, broken only by the creaking of the massive structure above them. Alexis approaches one of the openings they’ve seen the Thorian use to produce its thralls. The fleshy sac trembles, the last remnants of the Thorian's energy dissipating as it recognises the inevitability of its own end.

"Let’s end this," Alexis says, her voice steady, her squad at her side as they advance into the final room.

The Thorian trembles, its massive form heaving as it commits one final act of defiance. The dripping hole at the front of the plant shudders, spasms rippling across its surface as it pushes the last thing it will ever create from its flesh. This one is different—covered in far more of the dark, sap-like blood that passes for the plant’s essence. Another Asari slides out of the sac, her body limp as she collapses onto the floor. She lies motionless for several moments, the thick liquid pooling around her.

Alexis and her squad keep their shotguns trained on her head, each of them anticipating the same violent reanimation they have witnessed with the other clones. But something is different.

Alexis squints behind her visor, noting the difference in the Asari’s skin—it is blue, a familiar shade like any other Asari, not the eerie green of the ones before. Abruptly, the Asari takes in a huge, gurgling breath, retching violently as she pushes herself onto her hands and knees. She vomits, litres of green liquid pouring from her mouth, covering the ground in a slick mess.

She falls backward, gasping, her body trembling with the effort, and finally looks up. She flinches, eyes widening at the sight of four shotguns trained directly at her face.

"PLEASE DON'T SHOOT!" she cries, her voice hoarse, filled with genuine fear. Her hands push against the ground, trying to scramble away from the barrels pointed at her, but she slips in the slick pool beneath her, her movements frantic. She slides towards the edge of the platform, barely managing to catch herself before tumbling into the abyss. She glances over the side, her eyes widening further as she catches a glimpse of the bottomless void below. Desperation fills her voice as she shouts again, "I'M NOT LIKE THE OTHERS!"

Alexis exchanges a glance with her squad, each of them exchanging uncertain looks, their fingers tense on the triggers. The Asari’s behaviour—her fear, her pleading—is nothing like the emotionless, mindless aggression of the Thorian’s thralls.

“You’re not green, sure,” Alexis calls, her voice steady but harsh, “but how do we know you aren't going to attack the second we lower our weapons?"

"You don't," the Asari replies, her voice raw, a tremor running through it. Her eyes flicker to each of them, her desperation palpable. "But those were all clones of me. I could feel all of their deaths. They weren't me—I couldn’t control them. The Thorian did."

Alexis hesitates, her finger still on the trigger, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinises the Asari’s face. Before she can speak, a thunderous crack resounds through the chamber. All their heads swivel as they watch, breath held, while the last root holding the Thorian breaks away.

For a brief, surreal moment, the massive plant hangs in mid-air, as though not yet understanding its own demise. And then, slowly, almost gracefully, it begins to fall. The entire cavern seems to hold its breath as the Thorian plunges into the dark chasm, disappearing into the black. There is no sound of impact, no crash to signify its end—just silence, a silence that feels heavier than the plant itself.

Alexis snaps her attention back to the Asari, who is trembling on the edge, her eyes darting between the squad members. She sees the guns raise as one, and panic fills her face, her voice cracking as she pleads, “Wait, wait, wait! You’re Commander Shepard, right? The one Saren’s been after?”

Alexis’s eyes narrow at the mention of Saren, her interest piqued. She gives a curt nod, her posture still defensive.

The Asari seizes on this, her voice gaining a desperate urgency. "I can help you! I know why you're here!"

"Talk." Alexis's tone is clipped, but she pauses, giving the Asari the chance she is begging for.

"You need the Cipher—to understand the vision from the beacon, right?" The Asari looks at Alexis, hope flaring in her eyes, praying she has guessed correctly. Alexis's brow furrows, surprise flashing across her face.

"And how the hell do you know that?" Alexis demands, her suspicion deepening.

"Saren told me. He was after the same thing." The Asari speaks quickly, her words tumbling out. She sees the guns shift closer, and her breath catches. "He got it. Here. From me."

“From you?” Alexis's voice drips with sarcasm, her disbelief clear. “A Prothean Cipher—the accumulated knowledge of an entire species that vanished fifty thousand years ago? The essence of what it is to be Prothean? You have that?”

“Not directly from me.” The Asari swallows, her eyes darting nervously as she continues. “Saren gave me to the Thorian. I melded with it, and it gifted the Cipher to me in exchange. I gave it to Saren. But afterward… he betrayed me. He sent the Geth to destroy the Thorian.” She hesitates, her voice lowering as she adds, “I was absorbed, and the Thorian used me to create the clones.”

Alexis studies the Asari’s face, the fear in her eyes, the exhaustion in her features. There is something genuine in her expression, something that rings true. Slowly, Alexis lowers her weapon, signalling her squad to do the same. The others hesitate, uncertainty flickering across their faces, but one by one, they obey. Alexis steps forward, offering her hand to the Asari.

The Asari blinks in surprise, her eyes widening, and then she slowly reaches out, taking the offered hand. Alexis pulls her to her feet, her eyes never leaving the Asari's face. "I never got your name."

“Shiala,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper, a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you. For… you know, freeing me.”

Alexis gives a nod, but her expression remains guarded. “Why did you let Saren hand you over to the Thorian?”

“Because he told me to.” The bluntness of her answer catches Alexis off guard, her brow furrowing. Shiala sighs, her gaze dropping. “I was one of Matriarch Benezia’s followers. She believed she could guide Saren down a more peaceful path, and I believed in her. So, I followed her onto Saren’s ship. But…” Her voice trails off, her eyes darkening, her expression pained. “That ship… it does things to you. To your mind. It makes you believe whatever Saren wants. You know it’s wrong, you know it’s monstrous, but you can’t fight it. You need to follow him, more than you need to breathe.”

Her eyes meet Alexis’s, raw emotion laid bare. “When it came time to submit to the Thorian, I did it gladly. Because Saren wanted me to.”

Alexis feels a chill run down her spine at Shiala’s words. She studies the Asari, the earnestness in her face, the vulnerability in her voice. Slowly, Alexis asks, “And now? Do you still believe in him?”

Shiala shakes her head vehemently. “No. I can still feel it—what he did to my mind—but whatever the Thorian did, it broke that hold. It gave me my will back.” Her voice cracks with desperation. “I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. But please… let me help you. I can give you the Cipher, just like I did for Saren. Please.”

Alexis considers her words, her eyes narrowing as she weighs the risk. The prospect of melding with an Asari linked to Saren, who had once willingly submitted herself to him, carries a danger she can’t ignore. The Cipher, though… It is what she needs, what she has come here for. There is no other way. She needs to understand that vision, and Shiala is the only person in the galaxy who can give her that chance.

“Okay,” Alexis says finally, her voice quiet, resolved. “Let’s do it.”

Shiala hesitates, her eyes flicking nervously to Alexis’s squad. Tali's glowing eyes glare at her from behind her visor, and both Ashley and Kaidan have their hands hovering near their weapons, ready to act at the slightest provocation. Kaidan’s hand, Alexis notes, is already tinged with tension.

Shiala swallows hard, stepping cautiously toward Alexis, stopping just close enough to reach her. She looks into Alexis’s eyes, taking a deep breath. “Empty your mind, Commander,” she says softly, her eyes closing for a brief moment before snapping open, her pupils now completely black, expanding across her irises. “Embrace eternity!”

The meld is like nothing Alexis has experienced before. The presence of Shiala fills her mind, an overwhelming surge of memories, thoughts, and sensations. But it isn’t just Shiala—it is something else. Something far older. She feels the essence of the Protheans flood her consciousness, their experiences, their knowledge, their perception of the galaxy—all of it pouring into her mind like an unstoppable torrent.

It is nothing like the vision from the beacon. This is clearer, more focused, but so much more overwhelming. Alexis can feel her consciousness straining, her mind pushed to its limits. She grunts in pain, her head feeling as though it might burst from the sheer weight of the information being forced into it. Images flash across her vision—stars, worlds, ancient symbols, a galaxy at war, faces of an extinct people.

It ends almost as abruptly as it begins. Shiala releases her, and Alexis stumbles back, dropping to one knee, gasping for breath. Her head throbs painfully, stars dancing across her vision. She blinks, trying to clear her mind, her body trembling from the strain.

“Alexis!” Tali is beside her in an instant, her hand resting gently on Alexis’s shoulder. Ashley kneels on her other side, her face etched with concern. Kaidan, meanwhile, draws his pistol, aiming it squarely at Shiala’s forehead, his expression hard.

“Kaidan… I’m fine,” Alexis manages to say, her voice strained but firm. Slowly, Kaidan relaxes, though he keeps his hand on the grip, his eyes not leaving the Asari.

Shiala is breathing hard, her own hand pressed against her temple, her eyes filled with apprehension as she looks between them, finally focusing on Alexis. She can barely see Alexis's eyes through her visor, but the look she finds there gives her hope. “So… what happens now?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “Are you going to kill me?”

Alexis studies her for a long moment, her expression unreadable. She can still feel the aftershocks of the meld, foreign thoughts flickering in her mind—ancient, alien thoughts that don’t belong to her or Shiala. They are Prothean. Shiala has given her the Cipher—she’s done it.

Alexis slowly shakes her head. “No. We’re not.” She glances at her squad, seeing their stunned expressions, but none of them voice an objection. They trust her, even if they don’t fully understand.

Shiala’s eyes widen, a small, hopeful smile appearing on her face. “Thank you. I… I probably wouldn’t have done the same if I’m honest.”

They stand there for a few moments, silence hanging between them, the weight of what has just happened settling. Alexis breaks the silence, her voice soft. “What will you do now?”

Shiala looks up, her gaze drifting toward Zhu’s Hope. “I’ll stay here, in Zhu’s Hope. At least for a while. They’ve all been under the Thorian’s control for a long time. Who knows what it did to their minds, their bodies? If I can help them, in any way, I need to. I have to try to make up for what I’ve done.”

“Some of them might need medical attention,” Alexis says, her voice grim. “We did our best not to kill anyone, but some were injured. Bullet wounds, concussions… and the gas.”

“I know,” Shiala replies quietly, her eyes darkening. “I felt it while I was still inside the Thorian. I felt their pain. I know you tried to avoid killing them. Thank you.”

Alexis nods. “They were innocent. Wouldn’t be much of a soldier if I gunned down civilians.”

Shiala offers her hand, and Alexis takes it, shaking it firmly. “I hope we meet again, Commander. And I hope you stop Saren.”

“I will.” There is no doubt in Alexis’s voice, and Shiala finds herself believing in her—truly believing, in a way she hadn’t with Saren. She has seen something in the meld, something about Alexis. She has the strength to see this through.

With that, Alexis turns, her squad falling in behind her as they make their way back up the stairs, leaving Shiala behind in the chamber that was once the Thorian’s lair, her blue skin now tinged green by the spores still lingering in the air.

A short while later, Alexis walks into the comm room, doing her best not to put too much pressure on her left leg. The wound she sustained on Feros is more serious than she initially thought—the bullet came alarmingly close to her femur. Dr Chakwas managed to remove the projectile and stitch the wound, applying medi-gel generously, but the pain is still there, a constant throb under the skin. Luckily, it doesn't seem like there will be any infection, at least.

The armour she wore during the mission had helped support her weight, allowing her to push the pain aside until the objective was completed. But as soon as she took it off, the groan she let out made everyone in the cargo bay turn their heads. Tali, in particular, had been at her side in an instant, her visor tilted just enough to convey a look of intense worry. No argument or insistence could sway Tali from her side, and Alexis soon found herself almost dragged to the med-bay by her friend.

Dr Chakwas had seemed bemused at the sight—a stubborn Commander Shepard escorted by a very insistent Tali'Zorah. The doctor even commented on how surprised she was to see Shepard come in without protest. Alexis said nothing in response, but the moment Chakwas looked between her and Tali, Alexis caught the knowing glint in the doctor's eye. There was no hiding it—Tali's determination and Alexis’s resistance were two sides of the same coin, connected by a bond that was becoming increasingly evident. And though the usual scolding from Chakwas was there, it was softer this time, woven with an understanding smile.

Now, Alexis makes her way into the comm room, leaning a little more heavily on the railing than usual as she moves to the back of the room, carefully crossing her injured leg over her stronger one to ease the pressure. Tali hovers close by, a quiet but protective presence. The two of them just came from the med-bay together, and Alexis can sense Tali's eyes on her, as if the Quarian is making sure she doesn't take a misstep. It’s comforting, though Alexis would never admit how much she appreciates it aloud—not yet, anyway.

Liara is already here, practically vibrating with anticipation. The Asari sits at the edge of her seat, clearly eager to hear about the Cipher Alexis acquired on Feros. Alexis sighs inwardly. The excitement is palpable—Liara is bursting with questions—but Alexis isn't quite ready for all that. She can feel the weight of exhaustion in her bones.

“Joker, any word from the colonists at Zhu’s Hope?” she asks, shifting her focus away from the waiting Asari.

Joker’s voice crackles through the comm, laced with his usual dry humour. “Only about a million apologies, Commander. They’re even thanking you for shooting them! Can we get all the people trying to kill us to do that? It’s a real nice change of pace—maybe without the whole ‘possessed by a thousand-year-old plant’ thing. That part was kind of a drag.”

Alexis chuckles, her lips curving into a smirk. “I’ll see what I can do, but don’t get your hopes up on Saren singing us a song about love and friendship.”

“Why’d you have to put that image in my head, Commander?”

She laughs louder this time, the sound echoing in the room. “Because it annoys you, mostly.”

Finally, the rest of the crew members file in, taking their seats. Liara can’t contain herself anymore.

“So—you have the Cipher?” Liara blurts out, her excitement almost childlike.

Alexis nods, a slight smile forming at the Asari’s enthusiasm. “Yeah, in a roundabout way. I assume you want to help me make sense of the vision?” Liara nods eagerly, almost bouncing. Alexis sighs, sharing a glance with Tali, who gives her a small nod of encouragement. “Alright, let’s do it.”

Alexis steps into the centre of the room, positioning herself in front of Liara. She straightens her posture, fighting against the urge to lean on her injured leg. The others don’t need to see her struggle—not now, not when morale is so high after the success on Feros. Tali moves closer, placing her hand gently on Alexis’s shoulder, a comforting touch that Alexis allows herself to lean into, just for a moment. It grounds her, reminds her that she isn’t facing this alone.

“Relax, Commander,” Liara says softly, her eyes locking onto Alexis’s. “Embrace eternity.”

The meld hits Alexis with a flood of consciousness—Liara’s mind melding into her own, and, almost faintly, she feels the steady presence of Tali, hovering at the edges, like a protective barrier against the overwhelming rush of memories. Liara calls forth the vision from the Prothean beacon, dragging it to the forefront of Alexis’s thoughts. This time, it feels different—everything is more vivid, the meaning clearer. The sense of dread is sharper, the foreboding almost tangible. It’s a warning left by a dying civilisation about the Reapers—a warning that they failed to heed in time.

The moment the vision takes hold, Alexis sucks in a sharp breath. A gasp slips from her lips, and her back snaps straight, her eyes turning upward, unseeing. The vision floods her mind, overtaking everything—the deafening roar of destruction, the alien jaws, the terrible screech of Saren’s ship. It consumes her. A Reaper charges forward, its visage etched into her mind, and then something else appears—a black sphere surrounded by concentric rings. It feels important and crucial, though its meaning eludes her.

When Liara finally releases the meld, the Asari’s eyes return to normal, the black fading away. A few seconds later, Alexis blinks, her vision clearing, and the weight of the meld crashes into her. She stumbles, her body lurching backwards, and Tali is there—steadfast and sure, catching her, holding her up. Alexis steadies herself, straightening with effort, trying to regain her composure, but Tali stays close, her hand still resting protectively on Alexis’s shoulder. Alexis feels her face heat—embarrassment flooding her at needing Tali’s help in front of her crew.

“That was... interesting,” Alexis says, her voice quiet, almost shaky. She clears her throat, forcing herself to sound more like herself again. “Clearer than before.”

Liara’s eyes remain on her, studying Alexis with a mix of curiosity and concern. “Very much so,” Liara says softly. “I couldn’t make complete sense of it, but the Protheans left it as a warning about the Reapers. They must have hoped someone would find it—someone who could stop the Reapers where they failed.”

Alexis nods, her breathing still uneven, her heart pounding in her chest. “There’s more,” she manages, swallowing hard. “The beacon—it wasn’t just a warning. It was a message about a facility—where the Protheans tried to study the Reapers, tried to find a way to stop them, but they ran out of time.” Her eyes widen as the last piece clicks into place, urgency filling her voice. “The Conduit. That’s what they created.” She searches her mind for the location, the name slipping from her lips before she realises it—spoken in the Prothean language. Only Liara and Tali seem to understand. Alexis quickly corrects herself, “Sorry. Ilos.”

“Ilos?” Liara repeats, incredulous. “I’ve heard of it. It was one of the jewels of Prothean civilisation, but no one knows where it is. The only relay to its system was lost millennia ago.”

Alexis frowns, confusion written across her face. “Lost? How the hell do you lose a relay?”

Liara shifts uncomfortably, glancing at Alexis. “A supernova destroyed it. It’s called the Mu relay. There have been expeditions to find it, but none have succeeded. It’s our only hope of getting to Ilos.”

Alexis rubs at her temples, trying to ease the tension pounding there. “Damn it,” she mutters, taking a deep breath, trying to push the frustration away. She stands a little straighter. “Alright. Let’s hope Noveria has a better lead. Dismissed.” The abrupt dismissal takes everyone by surprise, but they file out without protest, leaving Alexis alone.

“Want me to patch you through to the Council?” Joker’s voice cuts through the silence.

Alexis sighs. The thought of talking to the Council isn't exactly appealing right now, but she knows she can't keep putting it off. She owes them a report, and they’ll call eventually. Better to get it over with. “Put them through, Joker.”

 

Chapter 6: VI

Summary:

The mission to Noveria begins with a bit of corporate espionage.

Notes:

My original plans and notes had most missions being a single chapter but Noveria needed to be split as do later ones.
Also, Chakwas cares and wants them to be happy, but she also has a stake in the betting pool and likes to gossip.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

VI

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Alexis stands in front of the punching bag, driving blow after blow into the heavy object. Despite Doctor Chakwas’ orders to rest her injured leg, Alexis decides to ignore them, using both legs in her relentless strikes. She pushes through the pain as her kicks send the bag swinging wildly. The heavy bag takes the brunt of her frustrations. She is pissed.

The Cipher has given them a target, but absolutely no way to use it. How are they supposed to get to a planet that, for all intents and purposes, doesn’t even exist anymore? If Noveria holds no answers, they are back to square one, hoping that Saren slips up somewhere in the galaxy, and that they can catch him fast enough to take down the rogue Spectre once and for all.

With a final punch that nearly splits the bag open, Alexis takes a deep breath inside her helmet. She’s stripped down to just the base undersuit, with a light cloth layer for protection and to resemble normal clothing, not wearing her full armoured layers for the workout. Leaning forward, she presses her faceplate against the bag, turning the music down that has been playing in her helmet, trying to catch her breath.

Alexis glances around, making sure the cargo bay is empty. Slowly, she limps towards a table beside her workout equipment and collapses onto it with a groan of pain. She brings up her suit diagnostics, pressing her hand to her thigh. The display confirms what she already feels—she’s torn open at least one stitch, maybe more. Doctor Chakwas could fix it easily enough, though the pain is sharper than it should be. More medi-gel could help. Now, she just needs to figure out how to convince the Doctor not to lecture her too much for ignoring orders. She has far too much energy to sit around, no matter the injury.

Then again, when has she ever listened to the Alliance’s health professionals? She’d been working out her shoulder only two weeks after the sniper shot on Elysium—a far more serious injury that actually required proper surgery. At least Chakwas is willing to work with her, unlike some doctors she’s had in the past.

Alexis is so focused on her diagnostics that she doesn’t notice anything else. She certainly doesn’t hear the light three-toed footsteps approaching from the engine room.

Tali emerges, having completed her final inspection for the night—a task that doesn’t need to be done but one she insists on before sleeping. She hears a groan of pain, and even without seeing Alexis, she knows the sound well enough.

Tali’s eyes quickly find Alexis, and she notices immediately—Alexis is tensed, her posture giving away the pain, subtle even under her suit. Alexis tries to push herself up when she notices Tali, but the flash of pain through her body makes it impossible, and she ends up leaning against the table, struggling to stand.

Alexis’s heart pounds in her chest, her voice coming out awkward and strained. “Oh, hey, Tali. Didn’t think anyone was still down here.” She swallows, waiting for the Quarian’s reaction.

Tali shakes her head, her mind catching up to the sight in front of her. “Just checking the engine,” she replies, her gaze avoiding Alexis’s for a moment. An uneasy silence stretches between them before Tali finally breaks it. “Are you okay?”

Alexis pauses, the instinct to deny her pain almost automatic. But it’s Tali. She finds she can’t bring herself to lie. “Not great. The bullet wound from Feros… it must’ve opened back up during my workout. Didn’t realise how bad it was until now.”

Tali doesn’t hesitate, stepping closer. When Alexis doesn’t object, she takes another step. “Do you need help getting to the medbay? Doctor Chakwas should probably take a look.”

Alexis nods, her voice quieter now, “That’d be great.” She hops forward, swinging an arm over Tali’s shoulders. With her suit on, Tali is about the same height as Alexis, making her a perfect crutch. Together, they manage to move, careful not to put any weight on Alexis’s injured leg.

They reach the elevator without incident, Alexis’s arm still draped around Tali’s shoulders while Tali keeps a firm grip around Alexis’s waist. On the ride up, neither of them lets go. They could separate, but they don’t. Each tells herself that it’s just to prevent Alexis’s leg from being moved the wrong way—nothing more.

The medbay door hisses open, and they walk inside. Alexis knows Doctor Chakwas will be along shortly, likely roused by the sensor on the door. Tali helps her sit on one of the beds, lifting Alexis’s leg carefully onto the mattress. Alexis scoots back, propping herself against the wall and letting out a sigh as the pressure on her leg finally eases.

They wait in silence, the seconds stretching on. Alexis drums her fingers against the bed, glancing towards the window that looks out into the dim mess hall, hoping to catch sight of Chakwas approaching. There’s nothing. “Huh… Doctor Chakwas is usually here by now. Maybe she’s really asleep this time.”

Tali fidgets, then speaks up hesitantly, “I… could take a look if you want?” Alexis blinks at her, surprised, the motion almost imperceptible behind her visor, but Tali notices it. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I learned how to handle injuries before my Pilgrimage.” Tali’s voice is steady, but they both understand the significance of the offer. For Quarians, allowing someone to access your suit—especially for medical care—is a profound sign of trust, an act that carries risks and intimacy.

Alexis hesitates. She trusts Tali with her suit systems in battle, but this is different. Yet, there’s something in Tali’s voice, in her eyes, that makes Alexis relent. She nods. “Alright. Only if you’re comfortable with it.” She makes sure the choice is Tali’s—she doesn’t want to put her in a position that’s uncomfortable.

Tali nods, moving to grab the medical supplies, wheeling over the trolley with the basic first aid kit. Alexis engages the seals on both layers of her suit, opening the section covering her thigh, exposing the wounded flesh beneath. Alexis leans back, her face turned slightly away, avoiding eye contact as Tali examines her.

Tali takes a deep breath, leaning closer to assess the injury. The stitches Chakwas put in have snapped, some deeper ones still intact but strained. The bullet had cut deep, and Tali can see the raw wound beneath. “Keelah… How are you still able to walk after this?”

Alexis shrugs, her voice casual. “You get used to it after being shot as many times as I have. Plus, medi-gel works wonders. Armour helps hold me together too.”

Tali’s head snaps up, her eyes wide. “Wait… how many times have you been shot?”

Alexis furrows her brow, counting on her fingers. Tali watches, her eyes growing wider as Alexis counts and then resets her hands. Twice. “Twenty-eight? No, twenty-nine. Including this one.”

Tali gives Alexis a deadpan look. “You’ve been shot twenty-nine times, Alexis?!” Her voice is filled with both disbelief and a strange sense of awe. Alexis always seemed invincible, but knowing just how much she had endured… it’s almost overwhelming.

Alexis giggles, the sound lighter than Tali expects. “Oh yeah. Eleven of those were on Elysium alone. Those pirates were crap shots—could’ve taken me out so many times. Like this one here.” She points just below her collarbone on the left side. “Batarian sniper. Should’ve gone for my head or my chest. But no, he goes for my shoulder. I think he was trying for my heart but just really messed it up. Even my gut would’ve been better!”

Tali gives a short laugh, shaking her head. “Only you would call that a mistake, Alexis.”

Alexis crosses her arms, pouting dramatically. “If you’re gonna shoot someone, at least do it properly.”

Tali pats Alexis’s shoulder gently, her voice teasing. “Don’t worry, Alexis. If I ever shoot you, I’ll make sure to do it right.”

Alexis grins, a spark of amusement in her eyes. “Thanks, Tali. At least someone cares.” They share a laugh, the tension in the room easing, the reason they’re in the medbay momentarily forgotten.

Then Alexis shifts the wrong way, a groan escaping her, and Tali snaps back to the task at hand. She looks down at the wound, focusing, though her heart beats faster. There’s something about Alexis—something that draws her in. Tali has always been shy, her natural inclination to keep her head down and avoid confrontation. But with Alexis, that shyness fades. There’s a boldness she’s never known—a desire to be close to her, to care for her. It’s disconcerting and thrilling all at once. She barely knows Alexis, and yet Alexis has already had such a profound effect on her.

Tali examines the wound, taking in the extent of the damage to see what she needs to do to get Alexis back on her feet. It’s relatively straightforward—Alexis has only torn a few of the stitches at the surface. Tali turns to the small trolley, picking up the needle and thread, along with several strips of gauze. She wipes away the fresh blood, applying a small amount of anaesthetic. Her eyes drift up to Alexis's face, and she notices how she watches intently. Her eyes are sharp and focused on Tali’s every move. Despite the pain this must be causing her, Alexis doesn’t flinch. Her pain tolerance must be incredibly high, far beyond anything Tali could imagine enduring herself without relief.

The needle pierces the damaged flesh, pulling the long thread through. Still, Alexis remains stone-faced, her gaze never wavering. Tali concentrates on her work, closing the wound as efficiently as possible. The Geth weapon had left a clean entry, and now that the stitches are properly restored, it almost seems routine. Yet the intimacy of this moment isn't lost on Tali—the act of caring for someone so physically exposed feels different, like a bond that goes beyond the mission.

Once she’s done, Tali layers the gauze over the injury, making sure to secure it well enough to protect the wound from reopening. She assumes Doctor Chakwas hadn’t used this much padding earlier because she’d expected Alexis to follow her orders for once and give her leg time to heal. Tali can only hope Alexis listens this time.

“There, all done.” Tali looks down at her gloves, now stained with a small amount of Alexis’s blood. She’ll have to clean them carefully to avoid a reaction when she next opens her suit. There’s a momentary stillness, a quiet that seems to draw them closer.

Alexis admires the Quarian’s handiwork, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I think you did a better job than Doctor Chakwas.” She realises what she’s said and quickly adds, “But don’t tell her I said that.”

Tali laughs, the sound like a burst of warmth between them. “I won’t. And you’re welcome.”

Alexis swallows, feeling an unfamiliar tightness in her throat. She looks up at Tali, her voice softer now. “I’m glad I can call you a friend. Not many I can call that,” she says, her words laced with honesty. She quickly looks away, the vulnerability of the statement making her heart pound faster. She’s not used to this—to allowing herself to be this open, especially not on a mission. But there’s something about Tali that feels safe, like she can drop her guard just a little.

Tali’s heart flutters at Alexis’s words. She feels warmth spread through her chest, and her breath catches for a moment. Alexis considers her a friend. That alone means more to her than Alexis could realise. “What do you mean? What about Joker? Doctor Chakwas? And Kaidan? Haven’t you known him for years?” Despite the questions, Tali feels her spirits lifting, happiness blooming inside her at the thought of being special to Alexis.

Alexis shakes her head, her smile turning a little sad. “Joker, sure. But ultimately, he’s my subordinate. We have an understanding—I give him room to be a little cocky and disobedient, but I know when it counts, he’ll follow my orders. It’s not easy to be friends with someone who answers to you.” She pauses, her gaze turning distant. “Chakwas… as much as she’s technically my subordinate, she feels more like family. Always looking out for me and putting up with me.”

Tali can hear the emotion creeping into Alexis’s voice and says nothing, letting her continue.

“As for Kaidan… yeah, I’ve known him for years. But he’s always… I don’t know. He’s never been able to turn off being a soldier around me. Even when I try to treat him like an old friend, he’s too aware of my rank. It’s like he’s stuck in that mindset.” Alexis trails off, a pained expression flickering across her face. “He just… can’t let go. But that’s his issue to deal with.”

Tali nods, understanding the subtext Alexis leaves unspoken. “Sounds like his problem, not yours. You’ve got enough on your shoulders without carrying that too.”

Alexis smiles, and the tension eases from her body. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She’s grateful to have someone like Tali—someone who doesn’t expect her to be perfect, who isn’t intimidated by her rank or her reputation. Just someone who cares.

But it’s not just that, is it? Alexis tries to suppress the thought, but it lingers at the edge of her mind. There’s something about Tali that feels different. Something that makes her heart beat a little faster whenever they’re together, makes her want to spend more time around her, just talking, just… being. And that scares her. Because she knows she shouldn’t be feeling this way—not with everything else going on, not with Saren still out there.

But then, Tali’s eyes catch hers, glowing softly through her visor, and the fear fades, just for a moment. In that instant, all Alexis wants is to reach out, to let herself fall into the warmth she feels whenever Tali is near. But she can’t. She can’t afford to let her heart lead her astray, not now. Not when so much is at stake.

Tali gestures towards Alexis’s leg, her voice lightening. “Should probably check if you can walk on it properly. I wouldn’t want to find out I made it worse later.”

Alexis grins, her eyes sparking with mischief. “You promised you’d only injure me properly. No half measures, remember?”

Tali chuckles, shaking her head. “Well, I hope I’ve kept my promise, then.”

Alexis swings her legs over the side of the bed tentatively, lowering herself to the floor. She rests her weight on her right leg at first, taking a deep breath before testing her left. Slowly, she shifts more and more weight onto it, surprised by how little pain she feels. There’s a sharp twinge, but it’s a manageable ache—far better than the pain she’d felt earlier. She rocks back and forth on her feet, transferring her weight to test her balance. Relief floods her, and the realisation that she won’t have to delay the mission to Noveria brings a genuine smile to her face.

She turns to Tali, her grin wide and filled with gratitude. “Good as new.” She shifts her stance, almost dancing on her feet. “You might have a future as an engineer and a doctor, Tali’Zorah.”

Tali’s cheeks heat beneath her helmet, as she hopes that her visor hides the blush. “I’ll keep that in mind, Alexis’Shepard. And while I’m being a doctor, my professional opinion is that you shouldn’t be using that leg for a while.”

Alexis rolls her eyes, but the smile remains, unwavering. “If that’s the doctor’s order, I’ll follow it to the letter.”

Tali raises an eyebrow, her tone teasing. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Alexis laughs, her eyes catching on the clock across the room. “Wow… it’s already two-thirty?” She shakes her head, the hours having slipped away unnoticed. “We should probably get some sleep.” She starts towards the door, Tali falling into step beside her, both of them moving in sync, their shoulders occasionally brushing as they walk.

They reach the mess hall, where their paths diverge—Tali to her sleeping capsule, Alexis to her quarters. Tali turns to face Alexis, her voice soft. “Goodnight, Alexis.”

“Goodnight, Tali.” Alexis watches Tali leave, her eyes lingering for a moment. She finally turns towards her quarters, her mind buzzing with thoughts she can’t quite settle. The memory of Tali’s hands, so gentle and careful, tending to her wound, refuses to leave her mind. It had felt like more than just treatment—it had felt like care, like something deeper. And as much as she tries to push those feelings down, they keep resurfacing, nagging at her, daring her to feel something she knows she shouldn’t. She doesn’t notice the way Tali glances back over her shoulder, watching until Alexis is out of sight, nor the smile on her face that mirrors Alexis’s own.

The next day finds Alexis sitting on the medbay bed, the cool metal pressing against her through the fabric of her undersuit. Doctor Chakwas kneels beside her, meticulously inspecting the stitched wound along Alexis's thigh. The soft hum of the Normandy's engines reverberates through the ship, a constant reminder of the mission awaiting them on Noveria. They've been in the Pax System for over an hour now, and impatience tugs at Alexis's every thought. Yet, Chakwas remains resolute in her duty, insisting on clearing the Commander for active service.

Her gaze drifts to the nearby table where the hardened plates of her armour lie neatly arranged, their surfaces polished and ready. She recalls how she was fully geared up not long ago, only to be intercepted by Chakwas, who all but dragged her to the medbay. The memory brings a wry smile to her lips—she'd been tempted to make a run for it but decided against it. Easier to submit to the examination than face Chakwas's stern disapproval.

A satisfied hum escapes the Doctor as she finishes her evaluation. "You're all good to go, Commander," Chakwas announces, her voice tinged with both professionalism and warmth. "The stitches are intact." She deftly wraps a fresh bandage around the healing wound, her fingers gentle yet efficient. "Keep this on to prevent any further injury, and you'll be fine."

Alexis arches an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. "You know I would have gone anyway, right?"

Chakwas meets her gaze with a hint of a smile. "I'm well aware of that, Commander. It's one of the many frustrations of treating you." She pauses, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. "You're just lucky Miss Zorah is very good with her hands."

Alexis's eyes widen, a flush creeping up her neck. "I—I don't know what you're talking about. Tali didn't do this," she stammers, her composure momentarily slipping.

The Doctor tilts her head, a knowing grin spreading across her face. "Oh? So that wasn't you and her in my medbay last night?" Chakwas's gaze is steady, almost teasing. "You do realise these windows can be turned opaque? Anyone could have seen you two in here."

Alexis feels her cheeks burning, the facade crumbling under Chakwas's scrutiny. With a resigned sigh, she admits, "Well, when you didn't show up, Tali offered to help."

"Indeed." Chakwas nods thoughtfully. "I'll admit I took longer than usual to return, but I paused when I saw you two through the window." She studies Alexis closely, her eyes softening. "And she did an excellent job—every bit as competent as I would have been." Her expression grows more serious as she continues, "I've noticed you've been spending quite a bit of time with our newest engineer, both on and off the Normandy. You've yet to leave her behind on any ground missions."

Alexis shifts uncomfortably, her fingers tracing the edge of the medbay bed. "Tali has proven herself extremely capable. Her knowledge of the Geth makes her invaluable," she replies, striving to keep her tone even.

Chakwas looks at Alexis with a raised eyebrow and a knowing grin. "Are you certain there's no other reason for taking Tali with you on every mission?"

Alexis avoids the Doctor's gaze, her cheeks flushing anew. She'd barely admitted her feelings to herself, let alone considered discussing them openly. The thought that Chakwas might see right through her is both unsettling and strangely relieving. "There may be other... reasons," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought as much," Chakwas says kindly. Alexis looks up to find the Doctor smiling warmly at her. "What? Did you think I was going to reprimand you?"

"Frankly, yes," Alexis admits, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Chakwas chuckles softly. "My only advice, Alexis, is to consider every aspect of the situation before doing anything. There could be consequences, but I think you'd regret it more if you did nothing."

Alexis shakes her head slowly. "I can't do anything. This mission is too important to let personal feelings interfere." The admission stings, the conflict evident in her eyes. "It's just... not the right time."

"And after?" Chakwas prompts gently.

Alexis hesitates, her gaze distant. "I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead," she confesses. The enormity of their task—hunting Saren, confronting the Reapers—has left little room for personal considerations.

Chakwas places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm not here to tell you what to do, but know that I'm always available if you need someone to talk to." She glances pointedly at Alexis's bandaged leg. "And not just when you've re-injured yourself by ignoring my medical advice."

A genuine laugh escapes Alexis. "Thank you, Doctor. I might just take you up on that."

She stands, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. Turning to the table, she begins reassembling her armour in silence. Each piece snaps into place with familiar precision, the weight of the gear both comforting and grounding. Chakwas watches her, a thoughtful expression on her face.

As Alexis moves toward the door, she pauses. "Doctor," she says softly, glancing back. "Really—thank you."

Chakwas smiles warmly. "Anytime, Commander. Stay safe out there."

Stepping into the corridor, Alexis takes a deep breath. The metallic scent of the ship mingles with the distant murmurs of the crew. She knows Tali is likely in the engineering deck, making final preparations. The thought brings a subtle warmth to her chest, but she pushes it aside. Focus on the mission, she reminds herself.

Meanwhile, back in the medbay, Chakwas settles at her desk, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. She reflects on the conversation, hopeful that Alexis might find the courage to explore the feelings she's kept buried. From what Chakwas has observed, the affection between the Commander and Tali is mutual—subtle glances, shared moments, unspoken understanding. Perhaps all they need is a gentle nudge.

"Perhaps," she muses aloud, "a few prods here and there wouldn't hurt." Turning to her console, she begins drafting the medical reports, but her thoughts remain with the two young women navigating both a galaxy in turmoil and the complexities of their own hearts.

Alexis walks towards the elevator, her thoughts swirling around what Doctor Chakwas had said about Tali. The words seem to echo in her mind, stirring up emotions she can’t quite ignore. She has to stand by what she said—whatever she thinks she might feel for Tali can't be allowed to interfere with the mission. The stakes are simply too high. The entire galaxy is depending on her staying focused, and any distraction could lead to catastrophic consequences. Alexis sighs as she steps into the empty elevator, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

Why did this always happen? Why did her personal life always seem so unreachable, something perpetually placed just beyond her grasp? She’d only ever had one constant, her mum. No matter where they moved, Mari'Saalas had always been there, always a touchstone in her life. But friendships? Real connections? That was something else entirely. As a child, the constant relocating had made friendships impossible. And once she joined the Alliance, she was too focused on proving herself to form real bonds, determined to silence anyone who doubted her or looked down on her Quarian upbringing. Her career became her identity, and any personal connection beyond that was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

She scoffs to herself, her gaze distant as she watches the floors tick by. Even her commendations and her service record speak to it—praising her for her ability to put the mission before anything, before herself, before her safety. It’s that same instinct that’s responsible for almost every scar she bears, every injury that’s put her in a medbay. Doctor Chakwas probably knows that better than anyone. Putting herself on the line has always felt like a necessity, something expected of her. 

But Tali… Tali makes her feel different. She doesn’t know how to explain it—being around Tali makes her want to let her guard down, makes her want to let someone in for the first time in a long time. It terrifies her. Alexis knows this isn’t just some passing crush. It’s not simple. It feels like there’s more to it, like there’s a connection there that she hasn’t felt with anyone else. And yet… she can’t pursue it. At least, not until Saren is dealt with. Until the threat is gone, until the mission is over, and even then… what if she was wrong? What if she misread everything and Tali didn’t feel the same way?

She bites the inside of her cheek, a tight, almost painful feeling gripping her chest. It’s just easier to bury this, to lock it away with everything else she doesn’t want to think about. It’s safer.

The elevator doors open, the sudden shift startling Alexis out of her thoughts. She takes a deep breath, her expression hardening again, the softness in her eyes replaced with determination. She strides out, heading straight for her armour and weapons. She needs the familiarity of them, the weight of her weapons on her back—it makes her feel ready, in control. She pulls her assault rifle to her chest, feeling the satisfying click as it magnetically attaches to her armour. A small sense of calm returns. With her gear, with her mission, she knows who she is. 

She turns to her side, noticing Liara awkwardly fiddling with a pistol. Alexis can see the nervousness etched into the Asari’s features, her fingers hovering uncertainly over the safety and the trigger.

“Dr T'soni?” Alexis calls out, making the Asari nearly jump. Alexis approaches, effortlessly lifting herself to sit on the table beside her.

“Oh! Commander, I didn’t see you there.” Liara attempts to look collected, but the fidgeting continues. Her hands move over the weapon, her gaze dropping to avoid Alexis’s eyes.

“Ready to go?” Alexis’s voice is calm, attempting to reassure.

Liara nods, a little too emphatically. “Yes. Ready whenever you are, ma’am.” The honorific sounds awkward, as if she isn’t quite sure it fits. She deflates slightly, her hand slowing on the weapon.

Alexis takes a breath, watching Liara closely. She knew why Liara wanted to be on this mission to Noveria—it was personal. Her mother was out there, siding with Saren. If the reports were true, then Benezia wasn’t just a reluctant ally, but fully aiding him in his plans. That had to be difficult, and Alexis understood that. She understood what it meant to want answers, to have that one question gnaw at you from the inside. 

Still, Alexis had her concerns. She’d hesitated to bring Liara along, not because she doubted her intent, but because she doubted her readiness. There was no sign, nothing yet, that indicated Liara could handle herself in a combat scenario. Alexis was willing to give her a chance, but she’d seen powerful biotics crumble under pressure, unable to control their abilities when it mattered. Liara was untested in that way, and it worried her.

“You don’t sound entirely ready, Doctor,” Alexis says softly, trying to meet Liara’s eyes. 

Liara straightens, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her posture. She collapses the pistol, attaching it to her hip. “I’ll be fine, Commander. I can handle myself.”

Alexis raises an eyebrow at the edge in Liara’s voice. “You don’t need to convince me, Liara. I just need you to be sure you’re ready for this. We’re likely walking straight into a firefight with Geth, and they’re not easy targets.”

Liara’s gaze flickers, and Alexis notices the slight tremor in her hands as she places them by her sides. “I’ve taken down Geth before. I’m not entirely helpless,” Liara responds, a note of frustration in her voice. She sounds tired of being doubted, tired of being seen as someone who needs saving. There’s determination there, a will to prove herself, and Alexis finds herself respecting that. 

She nods, her voice softening. “I know you’re not.” She gets to her feet, offering Liara a small smile. “I’ll see you up there. Just keep an ear out for Joker.”

Liara nods, and Alexis turns, stepping back into the elevator. As the doors close, she takes another deep breath, feeling the weight of the mission settle onto her shoulders again. She lets her mind fall back into focus, pushing everything else aside.

~~~~

Alexis steps out of the airlock with her team—Liara, Tali, and Wrex—by her side. The metal clang of their boots echoes against the emptiness of the dock, the silence almost oppressive. Alexis takes in the scene, her eyes narrowing slightly. The place is curiously empty, almost abandoned. She wonders what’s waiting for them deeper inside the spaceport but keeps her cool, her hand hovering close to her sidearm. She chooses not to draw it just yet; no need to escalate things if the security is just a bit further in.

They round a corner and come upon a small desk. It seems to be the only sign of security presence here. Before Alexis even has time to evaluate further, four humans rush forward, weapons drawn and pointed directly at them. It takes barely a second for her, Tali, and Wrex to have their shotguns in hand, aimed back with equal intent. Liara, standing just behind Alexis, scrambles to draw her pistol, her hand shaking slightly. She curses under her breath, frustrated by her own reaction time.

“Drop your weapons!” the lead security officer calls out, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he glances at Wrex, clearly unsettled by the massive Krogan.

Alexis’s eyes narrow, her posture not shifting an inch. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

“Drop them by order of the Noveria Development Corporation, or we will be forced to open fire!” The officer’s shouting betrays his nerves, the quaver in his voice too obvious. Alexis knows their type: overconfident, but ultimately ill-prepared. They clearly don’t know who they’re dealing with.

Alexis rolls her eyes, her annoyance palpable. “Okay, you do that. Then I’ll put the four of you down without even needing to fire a bullet. Then, I’ll personally drag you to the Council where you can stand trial for firing on a Spectre.” Her voice is steel, her eyes unwavering.

The security officers falter, their bluster withering under Alexis's gaze. They take hesitant steps forward, but Alexis and her team stand firm, unmoved. Alexis's finger curls around the trigger, ready to fire at any moment. Before the tension can snap, a woman bursts through the doors behind the security. She quickly positions herself between the two groups, her eyes flashing with urgency. “Lower your weapons, you idiots,” she hisses, turning to Alexis with an apologetic look. “Commander, I sincerely apologise on behalf of Noveria for this display. We only just got word of who you were.”

Alexis waits until the security officers lower their weapons, her eyes never leaving them. Only then does she give a nod, signalling her squad to do the same. “Uh-huh,” she mutters, her tone curt.

“I’m Gianna Parasini, administrative assistant to Administrator Anoleis.” Gianna gives a quick, formal nod, though her gaze flickers uneasily to Wrex, who responds with a toothy grin that only makes her more uncomfortable. “May I ask your plans while you’re on Noveria, Commander? We don’t get many Council Spectres here, or their… companions.”

Alexis remains impassive, her arms crossing over her chest. “Council business. Any unusual visitors recently?”

Gianna seems to understand this as a cue not to push further. She pauses, then continues hesitantly, “We did have an unusual visitor recently—an Asari Matriarch. Matriarch Benezia, I believe.”

Liara stiffens, her breath catching for a brief moment. She fights to keep her face neutral, but the slight flinch doesn't go unnoticed by Alexis. Alexis senses her squad member’s unease and shifts slightly in her stance, placing herself subtly in front of Liara, as if to shield her from the scrutiny.

Alexis nods. “Any idea where she went?”

Gianna’s expression tightens, her professionalism slipping back into place as she carefully chooses her words. “She has travelled to the Peak 15 research facility. I’m afraid I can’t reveal more information than that—one of our most prestigious clients, you understand.” A smirk tugs at her lips, the kind Alexis is all too familiar with. Bureaucrats.

Alexis’s eyes narrow, her jaw setting in annoyance. “And I’m sure you understand the implications of hampering a Council-sanctioned investigation.” Her tone carries an edge that could cut steel, her eyes boring into Gianna’s.

But Gianna just smiles wider, clearly unfazed. “The Council does not have jurisdiction on Noveria, Commander. Nor do their Spectres. In theory, we could have your ship impounded and hold you here indefinitely, and there is very little the Council could do to stop us.” Her eyes gleam with a hint of satisfaction.

Alexis’s patience is running thin, her anger boiling just beneath the surface. She takes a step forward, closing the distance between them until there are barely a few inches separating them. Alexis towers over her, her voice a low growl. “Try it. See how that works out for you.”

Gianna’s confident façade falters, her eyes widening slightly as she processes the threat. She takes a step back, choosing not to escalate further. “You have free run of the Port, of course. I’m afraid you’ll be unable to leave Hanshan without Administrator Anoleis’ approval, though.” With that, she spins on her heel, marching towards the exit. Alexis glares after her, her hands balling into fists. The woman had walked off before Alexis could get in a final word.

“Bosh'tet,” Tali mutters beside her, and Alexis can’t help but agree with the sentiment.

The squad waits in silence, frustration simmering as they watch the elevator Gianna had disappeared into descend to their level. When it finally opens, they pile in, Wrex’s massive frame forcing the rest of them into one corner. The elevator is cramped, and the tension hangs heavy between them, punctuated by the occasional clank of armour against the walls.

The door opens into the spaceport proper, revealing a well-manicured interior that screams corporate wealth. Neat little gardens decorate the room, sunlight streaming in from the narrow window running along the top of one wall. The place has an air of pristine orderliness, each blade of grass in the gardens perfectly trimmed. It makes Alexis’s skin crawl. She doesn’t like the manufactured perfection, doesn’t trust it.

She leads them directly towards the director’s office, her stride purposeful, brushing past security guards who barely have time to react before she’s through the front doors. They exchange uneasy glances, one of them moving as if to intercept, but a low, rumbling growl from Wrex has them stepping back, their faces paling.

Alexis strides into the office area, finding Gianna sitting at her desk. Alexis barely acknowledges her, her focus locked on the door behind her. She pushes it open, not bothering to see if Gianna would attempt to stop her.

“What do you want, Gianna? Can’t you see I’m very bus—” The Salarian behind the desk trails off, his words dying in his throat as he takes in the sight of Alexis and her heavily armed team. His gaze flickers nervously between the four of them, his tone shifting as he addresses Alexis. “I don’t believe I have an appointment at this time, Miss…?”

“Commander Alexis'Shepard.”

Recognition flashes in the Salarian’s eyes for just a moment before he manages to mask it. “Ah. Well then, Commander Shepard, if you would kindly vacate my office and see my assistant to schedule a meeting, I’d be more than happy to—”

Alexis slams her fist down on his desk, the sound reverberating through the room, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Yeah, I could do that. Or you could help me now, and I’ll be on my way much quicker.”

Anoleis's eyes narrow, irritation tugging at his features. “And what exactly would you need help with on Noveria, Commander?”

Alexis leans over the desk, her voice low and controlled. “I need to get to Peak 15. You can authorise me to leave the Port.”

“I do have that power, yes.” Anoleis leans back, his expression turning calculating. He folds his hands in his lap, his tone dripping with condescension. “But I am not inclined in the slightest to help you. I’m well aware of who you are, Miss Shepard.” He deliberately omits her rank, a smug smile tugging at his lips. “Spectres have no jurisdiction here. Our clients value their privacy, privacy that we provide by keeping Council influences—such as yourself—at bay. If we let every person affiliated with the Council through our doors, we would soon lose our business. I trust a woman of your standing understands.”

He stands, attempting to make himself seem larger, though he barely surpasses Alexis’s height. His gaze locks on hers, challenging. “Please remove yourself and your compatriots from my office. I will not ask again.”

Alexis’s anger flares, her muscles tensing, ready to retaliate. But then, a hand rests on her shoulder, pulling her back. She glances over her shoulder, surprised to see Wrex giving her a calm, almost amused look. “Not worth it, Shepard,” he says in his gravelly voice. He turns his gaze towards the Salarian, his lips curling into a toothy grin. “Salarians don’t change their minds unless you argue with them for hours. And taking their head off doesn’t seem to change that either.” He lets out a rumbling laugh at the sight of Anoleis visibly swallowing, his bravado faltering.

“Let’s go,” Wrex adds, his tone turning more serious. “Before I get tempted.”

Alexis clenches her jaw, forcing herself to take a deep breath. Alexis gives one last tense stare at the Salarian before following Wrex’s advice, turning on her heel and marching out of the office. She mutters under her breath, her voice barely a growl, “I really don’t want to have to shoot my way out of here. We don’t need even more heat on the Normandy than Saren and his damned ship are already bringing.”

The squad reaches the exit of the office, the tension of the confrontation still simmering beneath the surface. Just as Alexis pushes the door open, a voice rings out from behind, clear and insistent, “Commander, a word if you wouldn’t mind.”

Alexis turns sharply, her eyes locking onto Gianna Parasini. The assistant stands behind her desk, her eyes darting around nervously. Alexis strides back, her arms crossing over her chest, her expression still tight with irritation. “You’ve already made your position very clear, Miss Parasini. I don’t need it repeated.”

Gianna glances toward the door, her voice dropping to a hurried whisper. “Meet me in the bar in fifteen minutes.” With that, she rises swiftly from her desk and slips out of the office, moving quickly enough that Alexis doesn’t even have time to respond. The suddenness leaves her momentarily stunned, her irritation giving way to confusion.

Alexis frowns, staring after the woman before turning to look at her squad. Tali tilts her head, clearly as bewildered as Alexis, while Liara simply raises her brows. “What the hell was that?” Alexis mutters to no one in particular.

Tali shrugs. “I guess we meet her in the bar?” The Quarian’s voice holds a note of curiosity, though the bewilderment doesn’t leave her face.

Wrex grunts in agreement, while Liara nods, albeit hesitantly. The group leaves the office, heading in the direction of the only bar in Port Hanshan, each of them speculating silently about what Parasini might want.

As they draw closer, the floor begins to vibrate with the heavy bass pounding from inside. The door swings open, and the music hits them like a wall, almost deafening. Despite the four heavily armed individuals entering, no one even gives them a second glance. Alexis can’t help but be surprised. The security at the dock must have been intended to relieve them of their weapons, but it seemed that being a Spectre had some privileges, even on a corporate-controlled rock like Noveria.

Alexis leads them to a table tucked into the back corner, her eyes sweeping the bar. She’s careful, observant, but nobody seems to be paying them any attention. Wrex finds a place against the wall, his bulk giving them some much-needed privacy, while Liara and Tali settle in at the table beside Alexis. Exactly fifteen minutes later, Gianna appears, slipping into the chair next to Alexis, her movements smooth and efficient.

“Apologies, Commander,” Gianna says, leaning in slightly, her voice low. Alexis immediately notices the change in her voice—her pitch is different, the accent altered. “I had to make sure I wasn’t followed.” Gianna reaches across the table, offering her hand. “Allow me to reintroduce myself. Gianna Parasini, Noveria Internal Affairs.”

Alexis raises an eyebrow, but cautiously takes Gianna’s hand, shaking it. The intrigue bubbling within her dulls her irritation, and she leans back slightly, her expression less tense. “So, what’s this about, Parasini?”

Gianna smiles, a knowing glint in her eyes. “I believe we can help each other, Commander.”

Alexis tilts her head, scepticism in her gaze. “And how exactly would you help me? The only thing I need is a way out of this Port. Unless you can provide that, I’m not inclined to be of much assistance.”

Gianna’s smirk doesn’t waver. “I can give you that,” she says, leaning closer. Alexis shifts, her interest piqued now. “But I need your help first,” Gianna adds.

Alexis nods for her to continue, her eyes never leaving Gianna's. “I’ve been investigating Director Anoleis for months. He’s embezzling from the corporation, taking bribes behind our backs. I’m this close to proving it, but I need hard evidence to finish the job.”

Alexis snorts softly. “Evidence, huh?” She thinks back to the frantic chase across the Citadel, searching desperately for proof of Saren’s betrayal. It wasn’t exactly her first rodeo. “And how exactly do you propose I get that evidence?”

Gianna hesitates for a moment, glancing around the bar before lowering her voice. “I need you to raid the Synthetic Insights office.”

Alexis blinks, momentarily taken aback. “Excuse me?” She leans forward, her brow furrowed in disbelief.

Gianna sighs, seeming to gather herself. “Synthetic Insights was recently shut down by Anoleis. He claimed their branch manager, Lorik Qui’in, was corrupt. Qui’in reached out to us—he says he has evidence that Anoleis is taking bribes, and that’s the real reason for the shutdown. But his office is locked down.”

“So, I’m just supposed to take Qui’in’s word for it?” Alexis’s tone is incredulous, her scepticism deepening.

Gianna shakes her head, her expression earnest. “His intel is good, Alexis. I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t sure.” She produces a small keycard, sliding it across the table to Alexis. “This will get you into the office. I can’t promise there won’t be guards, but it shouldn’t be too many. Anoleis likely paid them off to erase the evidence. You can use lethal force if necessary—I’ll make sure no charges stick.”

Alexis takes the keycard, holding it between her fingers as she studies Gianna’s face. Her instincts scream at her not to trust anyone here, but there’s something in Gianna’s eyes—something desperate, but also resolute. Alexis narrows her eyes, her voice a low growl. “If this goes sideways, I’m coming for you.”

Gianna meets her gaze, her own eyes hard. “Understood, Commander.” She stands, nodding curtly before slipping away, leaving the bar as quickly as she’d entered.

The music is loud enough that it drowns out the majority of their conversation, and Alexis glances towards her squad. They’re watching her closely, their expressions ranging from curiosity to mild concern. Alexis takes a deep breath, rubbing at her eyes before leaning forward, her voice carrying just enough to be heard over the noise. “Alright, looks like we’re doing some corporate espionage.”

Wrex lets out a low chuckle, his lips curling into a knowing smile. “Finally, something interesting.”

Tali tilts her head, her curiosity turning into determination. “If it gets us out of here, I’m all in.”

Liara doesn’t say anything, but her eyes meet Alexis’s, and she gives a small nod, her gaze filled with both trepidation and trust. Alexis pushes herself to her feet, her eyes glinting with a steely resolve. “Let’s move. We’ve got a job to do.”

As they head out of the bar, Alexis can’t help but feel the weight of what they’re about to do. She hates playing games with corporations, hates getting dragged into their backstabbing politics. But if this is what it takes to track down Saren and stop him, then so be it. 

As promised, the keycard Gianna has provided opens the elevator to the Synthetic Insights office without any hassle. The office is shrouded in darkness as they walk in, Alexis pausing to allow her eyes to adjust. A relatively simple layout appears before them: a front receptionist's desk, stairs leading to the right, and a wide-open area at the bottom with desks spaced evenly throughout. The atmosphere is eerie—there isn't another soul in sight, giving the space a ghostly, unsettling feel.

Alexis cautiously takes a few steps further inside, pulling her rifle free and flicking on the small flashlight attached to it. She sweeps the beam slowly back and forth, taking care to watch for any sign of movement. Gianna has mentioned there could be guards, but so far, the place is dead silent—so silent that even Alexis's finely trained senses pick up nothing.

"Wrex, Tali, see what you can find down here. Liara, with me, upstairs."

The squad splits up on Alexis's orders. Wrex and Tali begin searching below while Alexis and Liara hurry up the stairs. Liara's breathing is audible from a mile away, uneven and betraying her nerves. Alexis frowns to herself. She'll have to help the young Asari with stealth tactics at some point; it could prove vital later. 

The top floor looks empty, only a few chairs and a couple of closed offices line the hall. Alexis sighs in frustration—they'll have to check each office one by one, hoping to find what they need to leave the port.

The first office contains nothing useful. After hacking through the computer's security, all Alexis finds are mundane messages between employees, none even remotely interesting. The second office yields similar results. Frustration gnaws at her—if they don’t find the manager's office soon, their time might run out. Unfortunately, none of the doors have markings or look distinctive.

"Commander!" Alexis steps out of the office she is searching to see Liara poking her head out of a room further down the hall. "I think I've found it."

"Tali, Wrex! Hold tight." Alexis catches the glimpse of Tali's and Wrex's flashlights moving, both taking up positions overlooking the entrance to the office. She hurries over to join Liara. As suspected, there is nothing visibly different about this room compared to the others—no plaques, no extravagant furnishings. But a clue is blinking on the screen of the computer.

**Welcome, Lorik Qui'in. Please enter your password.**

Alexis quickly hooks up her omni-tool to the console, letting the hacking program do its work. Tali has provided her with an advanced version of the hacking software, far beyond what the Spectres themselves have access to. When Alexis asked how Tali had gotten hold of it, she'd only shrugged, saying, "Geth are hard to hack through." Alexis can't help but smile, imagining that Tali had designed it herself—given her ingenuity, it seems entirely possible.

A high-pitched ping breaks through the silence. The computer is unlocked. Alexis begins combing through the files. Most of it is standard office fare, with some classified sections related to Noveria's corporate dealings. She ignores the latter, focusing only on what they need for the mission. Digging through the classified data could get her into even deeper trouble—it is better to stick to the task at hand.

The search comes up short. Nothing substantial on Anoleis, aside from some old correspondence between him and Lorik Qui'in. Frustration wells within Alexis, and she brings her fist down on the desk with a solid thud. "If I were damning evidence against my boss, where would I be?" she mutters under her breath, rubbing her knuckles. Alexis turns, looking for anything that stands out, coming to a stop as she faces the far wall of the office. It looks entirely inconsequential—no artwork, no pinboard, just bare. Suspiciously bare.

She activates her omni-tool again, switching to an infrared beam. Alexis sweeps it across the wall until she finds what she's looking for—an area that is far cooler than the rest of the wall. Bingo.

Closing her omni-tool, Alexis steps forward, her hands moving deftly to pull a couple of breach charges from her utility belt. She places them against the wall, planting them securely.

"Alexis, what are you—"

Before Liara can complete her sentence, Alexis steps back, triggering the charges. The small devices go off with a dull whump, creating an opening in the wall. Alexis turns to Liara, a playful smirk on her face. She steps forward, entering the newly revealed room, pistol raised, flashlight illuminating the dark.

The room is about the same size as the office they have come from. Alexis briefly wonders how they could have accessed it without destroying the wall, but that hardly matters now. The important part is getting inside. She stows her pistol, approaching a computer in the room and powering it on. To her surprise, the system doesn’t even ask for a password. Alexis shakes her head. Lorik Qui'in had been so confident this hidden room wouldn't be found that he hadn't thought to secure the computer at all.

In a matter of minutes, Alexis has all the evidence she needs. Qui'in has kept detailed records of Anoleis's corruption—millions of credits vanished from Noveria’s accounts, bribes accepted over the years. Anoleis could have retired wealthy, but he has gotten greedy, keeping his hand in long after he had enough. Alexis almost chuckles to herself. Criminal arrogance—it is a flaw she often finds herself exploiting.

"Commander, I think we've got company." Wrex's deep voice cuts through her thoughts, pulling her focus back to the task at hand. Alexis quickly finishes downloading the files, her heart starting to pound. They need to get out—fast.

Alexis and Liara step out onto the balcony just as the elevator doors open below. Alexis crouches behind a potted plant, signalling for Liara to do the same. Footsteps echo through the space as the guards enter.

"Fan out. They're in here somewhere." Alexis recognises the voice of the head of security from the docks. She grimaces. Anoleis's goons, no doubt. "Commander! We know you're in here. Surrender now, and we'll let you leave Noveria without any further consequences. We have the authority to use deadly force."

Alexis's eyes narrow, and she whispers through the comms, her voice firm, "Take 'em out."

One of the guards slowly crests the top of the stairs. Alexis is on him in an instant, her rifle spitting out a short burst of rounds that sends him tumbling backwards down the stairs. Another guard turns toward her, but Alexis moves faster, her rifle flashing in the dimly lit corridor, his gun falling to the floor as he stumbles backwards to tumble over the balcony railing. His scream echoes, abruptly cut off by the sickening crunch below.

Liara takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Watching Alexis engage the guards with such confidence makes her feel the sharp contrast of her own fear. But she can’t allow that fear to define her. She rises from her position, her HUD indicating a guard is around the corner. She can see just a flash of movement. Her heart races, her fingers tightening around her pistol. She draws on her biotic energy, reinforcing her barriers as she advances.

She catches the guard by surprise, twisting his arm until she hears the pop of a dislocated shoulder. She kicks his legs out from beneath him, pressing her pistol to the back of his head and pulling the trigger. The body falls with a dull thud, and Liara swallows, fighting back a wave of nausea. There is no time for hesitation—she moves on, knowing more enemies are coming.

Tali, meanwhile, is in her element. She works quickly, using her omni-tool to target the guards’ shields, disrupting their tech and disabling them. She doesn’t waste time on Wrex’s targets—he has them well in hand. Instead, she focuses on the guards approaching her. One guard gets too close, and Tali sees her chance. Charging her omni-tool with a powerful overload, she jabs it into the guard's chest, discharging the energy in a deadly arc. The man’s eyes widen in shock before he drops, lifeless. 

She barely has time to duck behind a desk before bullets rain toward her. Tali frees her shotgun from its sling, popping up to fire two shots in quick succession. A shout of pain tells her she’s found her mark.

Wrex, as ever, is a force of nature. He charges forward, letting the guards' bullets bounce harmlessly off his barriers. He tears a bolted-down desk free from the ground and hurls it at a group of guards, crushing one instantly. Wrex grabs another guard by the ankle, flinging them like a ragdoll into a second attacker. With a grin, he fires his shotgun, the blast taking them both out.

As the guards are pushed back towards the elevator, Alexis pauses to survey the destruction. The office is in shambles—desks lay in splinters, smoke hangs in the air from Tali’s overloads, and the place reeks of burnt metal and ozone. Alexis glances at Liara, seeing the path of bodies she has left behind. Despite her initial hesitation, Liara has fought with precision, almost like a Commando. Perhaps Alexis has underestimated her.

The last guard remains, pressed against the elevator, his laboured breathing giving away his fear. Alexis calls out, her voice cutting through the silence, "I suggest you surrender. Do you really want to die for Anoleis? With what we have on him, he won’t be able to protect you."

There is a pause, then the clatter of a weapon being discarded. The elevator doors close, and Alexis exhales in relief. At least one of them has sense. Too many lives have already been lost needlessly.

The squad regroups, filing into the elevator. Alexis looks at each of them, nodding approvingly. "Alright, let's get out of here and see what Gianna can do with this. Time to bring Anoleis down." 

The door closes, and as the elevator begins its descent, Alexis can't help the small grin that tugs at her lips. Corporate greed, underhanded politics—it has finally caught up to Anoleis. Now it is time for a bit of payback.

Gianna strides into the bar, her eyes immediately finding Alexis and her squad sitting at the same table they had occupied barely an hour ago. The bass-heavy music thumps in the background, almost drowning out the tension she can sense from the table.

"I trust you were successful, Commander? Anoleis was quite desperate to get a detachment of security to the Synthetic Insights offices," Gianna says, her voice carrying a hint of satisfaction.

Alexis pulls out a datapad, placing it on the table between them. "I think Anoleis may be a bigger problem than you think." Her voice is measured, her gaze fixed on Gianna.

Gianna takes the datapad and begins poring over the evidence. Her eyes widen with each passing second as she scans the details. "Holy shit," she breathes. "This goes back years. Millions upon millions of credits, even before he was director." She looks up at Alexis, a genuine smile breaking across her face. "Thank god Lorik was thorough. He could have come forward ages ago, and we’d have had enough to ruin Anoleis forever." Gianna's eyes gleam with newfound determination. "I can’t thank you enough, Commander."

Alexis’s expression remains cool. "You can thank me by getting me out of Hanshan." She doesn’t trust Gianna—not entirely. She had quietly instructed Tali to hack into the datapad and be prepared to wipe it if things went sideways, if it looked like Gianna was about to double-cross them.

"Of course." Gianna turns, gesturing towards the other side of the bar. A Turian approaches, making his way through the throng of people and taking a seat across from Alexis.

"Lorik Qui'in, at your service." He extends a hand, and Alexis takes it with a raised brow. He leans in slightly, his mandibles flaring. "I understand I have you to thank for my new position."

"Excuse me?" Alexis's brow furrows, irritation flaring in her chest. "What exactly is going on here, Parasini? This wasn't part of our deal."

Gianna holds up her hands, palms out. "Nothing untoward, Commander, I assure you. When I present this evidence to my superiors, Anoleis will be removed, and Lorik here will take his place as director. He’s agreed to cooperate fully with Internal Affairs—and that includes helping you."

Lorik offers what passes for a smile on a Turian, his mandibles flaring in a gesture of friendliness. "And what does having you in my debt get me?" Alexis's tone is sharp—she doesn’t have time for games. If Gianna can't follow through on her end of the deal, Internal Affairs is walking away empty-handed.

The Turian simply raises his arm, sliding a card across the table. "My garage pass," he says, his voice calm. "It’ll get you through Hanshan’s security and out into Noveria’s glorious weather."

Alexis exhales slowly, the tension easing from her shoulders. She turns her head slightly towards Tali, giving her the signal to stand down. Tali discreetly powers down her omni-tool, the brief flicker of light on the datapad signaling that it’s no longer under their control. Gianna glances at Alexis, her lips twitching with understanding but she says nothing.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Alexis says curtly, pushing back from the table and gesturing for her squad to rise. They all move as one, prepared to leave.

"Commander, before you go." Gianna's voice stops her. Alexis turns, her brow arched expectantly. "We've had some troubling reports from Peak 15," Gianna continues. "The entire facility is in lockdown—some sort of containment failure. I’d advise you exercise caution if you're set on going there. It might be difficult to get inside." Gianna hesitates for a moment, then adds, "There are even whispers of activating its neutron purge system—wiping the entire facility clean of whatever got out. I wish I had more for you, but that’s all I know."

Alexis nods, her expression impassive, but she feels a chill run down her spine. Whatever is happening at Peak 15, it's worse than she thought. "Thanks for the heads-up." Without another word, Alexis turns, her boots clicking sharply on the floor as she leads her squad out of the bar. As they pass through the threshold, she can just barely hear Gianna and Lorik speaking in hushed tones over the music, but she doesn’t bother listening. Their part in this is over.

At the garage checkpoint, Alexis presents the garage pass. The security guard eyes her warily, his gaze flicking over her squad’s arsenal. She can tell he’s considering refusing them entry, but he thinks better of it. Noveria isn't a place where questioning the wrong person ends well—especially not when that person is a Spectre.

The Mako had been unloaded from the Normandy after some persuasion on Alexis’s part. She had refused, point-blank, to take the flimsy transport they’d been offered. It was nothing more than a glorified snowmobile, with zero defensive or offensive capabilities. If Geth were out there—and she had no doubt they were—she wasn't about to risk her team's lives for bureaucratic convenience.

Just as they begin piling into the Mako, Alexis freezes. Her head snaps up, her senses prickling as a faint noise reaches her ears—a clank, followed by the unmistakable hum of something powering up.

"Anyone else hear that?" she whispers, her rifle already in her hands.

Wrex doesn't wait for confirmation. The Krogan is already moving, shotgun at the ready. He barely gets a few meters before the firefight erupts.

A large container in the corner of the garage bursts open, Geth troopers pouring out in a metallic wave. The squad barely has time to react before the air is filled with the crackling of gunfire. Wrex roars, raising a biotic barrier to shield the group from the initial barrage.

Alexis brings her rifle up, eyes narrowing as she picks her targets. The Geth are moving fast, but Alexis is faster—her finger squeezes the trigger, releasing a burst of fire. She almost overheats her rifle, ejecting the thermal clip and slamming in a new one without missing a beat. Beside her, Wrex charges forward, his shotgun booming as he barrels into the enemy lines, sending Geth flying like ragdolls.

Tali is a blur of motion, her omni-tool glowing as she hacks into one of the Geth’s systems, causing it to turn on its allies. The infected Geth lets out a stuttering whirr before opening fire on its own ranks, tearing through several of its fellow troopers before being taken out.

Liara stands to the side, her brow furrowed in concentration. She raises a hand, her biotic energy flaring as she lifts several Geth into the air, leaving them flailing and vulnerable. With a flick of her wrist, she sends them crashing into the wall, their metal bodies shattering on impact.

The garage is chaos—smoke, sparks, and the metallic scent of burning circuits fill the air. Alexis moves with precision, her rifle never wavering as she takes down trooper after trooper. Wrex’s laughter booms through the garage, his biotic charge turning Geth into little more than scrap. Tali ducks in and out of cover, her shotgun firing in quick succession, while Liara keeps her focus, her biotics adding a chaotic grace to the battle.

Within moments, the garage is littered with the broken remains of the Geth. The squad lowers their weapons, breathing heavily. Just then, the door to the garage slides open, and a group of port security guards rushes in. Alexis turns, her eyes blazing with fury as she advances on them.

"Why the fuck are you shipping Geth?!" she shouts, her voice echoing through the suddenly silent garage.

One of the guards stammers, "W-We’re not!"

Alexis narrows her eyes, her gaze flicking to the container the Geth had come from. "Bullshit. Look around you. They came out of that container—stamped with your port's symbol!" She steps forward, her voice low and dangerous. "Tell me where it came from. Now."

The guard visibly pales, his hands trembling. "M-Matriarch Benezia... she came with it. But I swear, we scanned it. There weren’t any Geth inside!"

Alexis doesn't reply immediately, her eyes narrowing as she studies the guard. His fear is palpable, and she knows he’s telling the truth—at least as much of it as he knows. She lets out a harsh breath, her anger not entirely abated. "Fine. But if I find out you’re lying…"

The guard swallows hard, nodding quickly. "Y-Yes, Commander. I understand."

Without another word, Alexis turns back to the Mako, motioning for her squad to follow. The Noverian security guards exchange nervous glances, clearly shaken by the encounter. Alexis doesn’t care—they had better hope they’re telling the truth. She climbs into the Mako, her squad settling in around her, and the tank’s hatch closes with a metallic clang.

"Alright, let's move. Peak 15 isn't going to investigate itself," Alexis says, her voice steady as she starts up the Mako. The engine rumbles to life, and with a final glance at the sweating security guards, she drives out into the icy, inhospitable expanse of Noveria.

The squad sits in tense silence, the reality of what lay ahead weighing heavily on them. Alexis grips the controls tightly, her jaw set. Whatever Benezia is up to at Peak 15, they’re about to find out—and they’re going to make damn sure she answers for it.

 

Chapter 7: VII

Summary:

The mission on Noveria continues to Peak 15 and the secrets that lie hidden away.

Notes:

This was honestly a really fun chapter to write, especially the Rachni! Though I do slightly apologise for how horrifying I may have made them.
Also another cute moment with Shep/Tali!

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

VII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The Mako leaves the garage behind, trundling along the icy path that winds around the mountain to their right, a sheer drop to the left. Alexis keeps the tank moving slowly, not entirely trusting the Mako's traction control in these conditions. Even she isn't daring enough to test its true capabilities on an ice-covered mountainside during a blizzard.

The blizzard makes progress painstakingly slow, with visibility cut down to about fifty metres. The cold air outside seeps into the Mako despite the environmental seals, the chill penetrating through the windows and through Alexis's suit. She can feel it in her fingertips and toes, and she taps her foot to keep the blood circulating. Even with her helmet closed, she can sense the oppressive cold, reminding her how inhospitable Noveria is. Part of her is glad she didn't bring Garrus on this mission, as she originally intended. Turians are cold-blooded, and even with his armour's thermal protection, she isn't keen on dealing with hypothermia if things go wrong.

The Mako comes across a wrecked transport vehicle, half-buried in snowdrifts. Alexis brings the tank to a halt and hops out, her boots crunching against the ice with each step. The blizzard pushes back against her with powerful gusts, forcing her to lean into it just to move forward. As she approaches the wreck, she notices the telltale signs of Geth weaponry—scorch marks from armature fire streak across the metal. It tells her enough; Geth have been through here. She rises, squinting into the snow-filled air, trying to make out any movement, any blue lights that might give away the synthetics' positions. Nothing—just the howl of the wind and the relentless onslaught of snow.

She returns to the Mako, sealing the door behind her as she climbs back in. "Geth hit that transport," she mutters. "Keep your eyes peeled, they could still be around." With that, Alexis continues driving along the treacherous route.

They come across a tunnel carved into the ice, and as soon as the Mako's nose breaches the tunnel entrance, bullets start ricocheting off the reinforced plating. Instead of reversing, Alexis accelerates, her reflexes kicking in. She manoeuvres the Mako into a drift, slipping into the tunnel at speed while the tank's main cannon swivels to target. The interior of the tunnel lights up as the cannon blasts, vaporising the makeshift Geth encampment ahead. Rocket troopers further back open fire, and Alexis jerks the controls, narrowly dodging the incoming ordnance.

She can almost imagine the Geth's panic as the Mako barrels toward them, its massive wheels crushing any trooper unfortunate enough to be in its path. Alexis smiles grimly as she feels the telltale crunch beneath them—metal snapping and sparking beneath the vehicle's weight.

The tunnel ends abruptly, and almost as soon as they exit, more Geth assail them. The road swings sharply to the right, making a 180-degree turn along a steep ravine. Alexis spots an armature on the other side, already charging up for a shot. She pushes the Mako faster, the wheels slipping dangerously on the ice. She has to keep control, but one wrong move could send them careening into the abyss.

"Tali, take out that armature!" Alexis orders as she keeps her focus on the road. Tali already has her hands on the firing controls, the Quarian taking aim through the blizzard. The Mako lurches from side to side as Alexis dodges incoming fire, making Tali's job that much harder. She mutters a curse in Khelish, missing her first few shots, but manages to land a direct hit, weakening the armature's shields.

Alexis smashes through any Geth troopers in their way, using the Mako as a battering ram. Snipers positioned along the hills try to target them, but Tali picks them off one by one, hoping she isn't going to trigger an avalanche with all the explosive firepower. The armature keeps firing, forcing Alexis to drive even more erratically, swerving left and right as she navigates the icy turns. She rounds the final corner, and the armature looms directly ahead. Alexis grits her teeth and slams her foot down on the accelerator, the Mako rocketing forward.

They slam into the armature at full speed, the impact tearing its legs from beneath it. With its shields already gone thanks to Tali's shots, the Geth collapses in a heap of tangled metal. Alexis spins the Mako around, giving Tali a clear shot. The Quarian takes her chance, and the main cannon fires, detonating the armature's power core. The resulting explosion lights up the storm, pieces of the Geth raining down around them as the Mako speeds away, Alexis expertly bringing it back on course.

She glances into the backseat, where Wrex is calmly inspecting his shotgun. He peers closely at a small scuff on the barrel, licking his thumb and rubbing it away with an air of indifference. Liara, on the other hand, is gripping the middle armrest so tightly it's creaking, her other hand clutching the Mako's door as if her life depends on it. Her eyes are wide, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

"Didn't believe me about Alexis's driving, did you, Liara?" Tali's voice is half-amused, half-concerned. She and Wrex are at least somewhat accustomed to Alexis's driving by now, but Liara looks like she's just survived a near-death experience.

"I do now," Liara manages, her voice shaky as she tries to slow her breathing. "Is it possible that you could… not try to kill us while driving, Shepard?"

Alexis scoffs, her lips curling into a smirk. "You too? Why does everyone hate my driving? I'm just being efficient."

Tali lets out an exasperated laugh. "There's a big difference between efficient and downright suicidal, Alexis."

Wrex's deep, rumbling laugh fills the Mako. "Come on, at least Shepard keeps things interesting. You two probably drive like Elcor."

"I didn't know Elcor drove," Tali replies, sceptical.

"Believe me, they do. And it'll drive you up the fucking wall." Wrex shakes his head, still chuckling as silence falls over them again.

Alexis eases off the accelerator, the rest of the drive proving uneventful as she takes it slower for Liara's sake. Eventually, they round a bend, and the facility comes into view. Peak 15 looms ahead—a massive structure with a tower that stretches up into the storm, the blizzard obscuring the top from sight. Alexis frowns as she takes it in, wondering just how large the complex is and how difficult it will be to find Matriarch Benezia.

Gianna's warning about a containment failure comes to mind, a feeling of unease settling over Alexis. Just what were they researching here that warranted a neutron purge system? It isn't standard for facilities like this. Those kinds of protocols are meant for labs dealing with catastrophic diseases or lifeforms—the kind of threats that can wipe out entire colonies. The more Alexis learns about Peak 15, the more suspicious it becomes. The Council might not have jurisdiction here, but whatever's going on, it definitely isn't above board.

She tightens her grip on the Mako's controls, her eyes narrowing as they approach the entrance. "Alright, everyone. Stay sharp," she says, her voice steady despite the tension. "Whatever's waiting for us inside, we're not going down without a fight."

The Mako slows to a crawl as Alexis approaches the final stretch of their drive. Suddenly, she halts the vehicle, her sudden action causing her teammates to exchange confused glances. "Stay here," she orders, her voice leaving no room for debate.

Alexis steps out of the Mako, her boots crunching against the frozen terrain. The biting cold of the blizzard immediately assaults her, even through the environmental seals of her armour. She pulls her sniper rifle free, the weight of it familiar in her hands, and stands tall beside the Mako, scanning the facility entrance barely a hundred meters ahead. Her visor adjusts to the blinding snow, and in a flash of intuition, she drops to her stomach just as a bullet whizzes through where her head had been.

“Sniper,” she mutters, a grim satisfaction edging her tone. Rolling under the Mako, she brings her sniper rifle into position with an awkward shuffle. “Knew it,” she murmurs, her voice almost lost in the roaring wind.

Through the snowstorm, she sights down her scope, her crosshairs sweeping slowly until she catches the faint glint of a reflection—a Geth’s glowing optic, just barely visible through the haze. It's positioned behind a barricade at Peak 15's entrance, almost invisible amidst the blizzard. Alexis takes a deep breath, her visor connecting to her sniper's scope so that she doesn't need to remove it to aid her aiming due to being unable to bring her eye actually to the scope in the way it was designed. Her heartbeat slows, her body steadies. The world narrows to just her, the target, and the rifle.

She fires.

The Geth's head explodes in a burst of shattered metal, its body standing for a split second before toppling backward into the snow. Alexis breathes out. She collapses the sniper rifle, her hands moving with practised ease, then slides back into the Mako. With a calm nod to her teammates, she restarts the engine and resumes their journey.

None of the others even question her actions. They've learned, even in the short time they've been together, that Alexis has a near-perfect instinct for danger. Even Wrex, with centuries of combat experience, defers to Alexis when it comes to sensing threats.

The Mako grinds to a halt as close to the facility entrance as Alexis dares. They pile out, weapons ready, their breaths visible in the freezing air as they cautiously make their way inside Peak 15.

The first room is a cavernous garage, dark and oppressive, easily large enough to fit the Mako if they could open the bay doors. Alexis scans the surroundings quickly—no obvious means of opening the main door, just the small side entrance they used to slip inside. She figures the Geth must have left it open, possibly for their sniper to use as an escape route. A stroke of luck for them.

The space is dimly lit, emergency lights casting long shadows across the garage. The ceiling lights are either shattered or simply off, and the silence is broken only by the distant howling of the storm outside. Alexis takes another step forward, her breath held instinctively, and then—

All hell breaks loose.

Geth pour into the garage from the far end, their synthetic voices rising in a collective battle cry as they open fire. Alexis barely has time to move before the air fills with the electric hum of incoming rounds. She and Wrex dive behind a large crate, just big enough to hide even the Krogan’s massive frame. Across the room, Liara acts on instinct, tackling Tali behind a vehicle barricade. Tali gives her a grateful nod. "Thanks," she manages, her fingers already flying over her omni-tool, preparing for combat.

“SAREN WILL PAY US BIG FOR THIS ONE, BOYS!” A Krogan voice roars out from beyond the Geth lines, and Alexis risks a glance over their cover. Four Krogan enter the fray—two rushing to join the Geth, while the other two head for a set of stairs leading to a catwalk above. Alexis quickly scans the catwalk, her eyes narrowing. If those two get above them, they'll be sitting ducks.

She tosses a grenade over the crate, the explosion pausing the Geth advance. "Wrex, I've got a really stupid idea," she says, her eyes already on the catwalk above.

Wrex lets out a laugh between shotgun blasts. "Shepard, all your ideas are stupid. And they always work, so what’s the plan?"

"Throw me up there." Alexis points to the catwalk, her expression resolute.

Wrex's grin widens, his teeth bared. "I'm gonna make you an honorary Krogan at this rate." He turns and shouts across the room, "Tali, Liara! Cover us!"

Tali and Liara nod, laying down suppressive fire as best they can. Wrex crouches, lacing his fingers together, and Alexis takes a step back, taking a breath. She sprints forward, planting her boot firmly in Wrex's hands, and he heaves her upward with all his might. Alexis propels herself upwards, flipping over the catwalk railing and landing in a roll.

She barely has time to orient herself before she frees her shotgun, firing into the gut of the closest Krogan mid-roll. The blast takes him by surprise, staggering him backward into his comrade. Alexis is on her feet in an instant; instead of making distance between them, she charges forward. She slams into the injured and off balance Krogan, her charge propelling him off his feet and into the metal railing. The impact bends the railing under his weight, and with a sickening crack, he tumbles over the edge, landing headfirst on the concrete below. His body goes limp, unmoving.

The second Krogan regains his footing, snarling as he barrels toward her. Alexis tries to brace herself, but he hits her like a freight train, knocking the air from her lungs as they crash to the ground. The Krogan's weight presses down on her, his hands grappling for her shotgun. Alexis struggles beneath him, trying to force the weapon toward him. He releases one hand, rearing back to deliver a crushing blow.

Alexis turns her head just in time, the punch denting the metal floor where her head had been. She takes advantage of his momentary imbalance, freeing one arm and delivering a brutal punch to his side, her omni-blade cutting into his armour. The Krogan grunts in pain, rolling off her from the force of the blow. Alexis scrambles to her feet, her shotgun aimed at his head. She pulls the trigger without hesitation, the blast echoing through the garage as bits of brain and bone splatter backward. The Krogan’s body slumps forward, blood dripping from the fresh hole in his forehead, pooling on the metal beneath him.

Alexis doesn't spare him another glance. She turns, looking down at the chaos below, her squad still locked in battle with the Geth and Krogan forces. There's no time to waste—she leaps into the fight again, her eyes sharp as she charges back into the fray.

Wrex wastes no time bringing his shotgun back into play the moment he launches Alexis toward the catwalk. He steps out of cover, holding the huge weapon in one hand while the other, glowing with biotic energy, yanks a Geth trooper toward him. The synthetic flails in mid-air, a helpless puppet before Wrex blasts a hole straight through its chest. He bats it aside with a grunt of satisfaction as it nears, the lifeless shell clattering away.

His bold, aggressive move doesn’t go unnoticed. Some of the synthetics shift their focus to him—this Krogan who doesn’t even bother defending himself. Wrex laughs, the sound deep and rumbling, as a blue glow envelops him. His barrier flares to life, absorbing the impact of incoming fire while he barrels forward, an unstoppable force.

Suddenly, a bright flash catches Wrex's eye. A Geth Destroyer, its massive frame looming on the far side of the room, levels its weapon at him. There’s no time to react. The shot fires, the powerful kinetic blast colliding with Wrex and sending him staggering back a step, his barrier flickering. Wrex's lips pull into a feral grin, teeth bared. He focuses on the Destroyer, its weapon still trained on him, and breaks into a sprint, each heavy footfall reverberating through the room.

Another shot rings out, and Wrex sidesteps, losing none of his momentum. He ignores the smaller Geth in his way, knocking them aside like toys as he closes in on his real target. He lets out a deep, guttural roar, biotic energy flaring and swirling around him. In a burst of dark power, he slams into the Geth Destroyer, sending it crashing to the ground.

Wrex is on it in an instant, shotgun levelled at its torso. He pulls the trigger, the close-range blast tearing through its armoured plating. The Geth jerks, its systems spasming, but Wrex isn’t done. He tosses his shotgun aside, gripping the Destroyer’s neck and thigh with his massive hands. He roars, his muscles straining as he lifts it above his head. With a sickening crack of metal, Wrex pulls, splitting the Geth in two. Sparks and lubricant rain down, coating his armour. He turns, his eyes wild, and spots another Geth—a smaller trooper. Without missing a beat, Wrex charges at it, wielding the halves of the destroyed Destroyer like makeshift clubs.

The Geth barely has time to react before Wrex slams the first half down, shattering its shield. He follows with the other, crushing it into the ground. He keeps swinging until all that remains in his hands are scraps—part of a head, a twisted piece of leg. He tosses them aside with a snort, retrieving his shotgun before diving back into the fray.

Meanwhile, Tali and Liara work in harmony. They cover each other seamlessly, Liara’s biotic lifts wrenching Geth from cover and hurling them toward Tali, who deactivates them with precision overloads. Tali primes an incinerate, flinging it at a Geth Trooper. Liara's eyes narrow, an idea forming. She lifts the soon-to-explode enemy, propelling it across the room into another Geth. The explosion engulfs both, sending charred fragments scattering.

They share a glance, Liara’s lips curving into a small smile beneath her concentration. There’s something exhilarating about fighting this way. She lifts another Geth, and Tali primes an incinerate just as it’s slammed into another synthetic—a dance of destruction.

It doesn’t take long before only one Krogan remains, firing desperately, his shots wide and unfocused. Tali and Liara exchange a nod, advancing together. Liara’s biotics swirl in her hands, a singularity forming. She casts it, the Krogan being lifted helplessly, flailing in mid-air. Tali’s incinerate follows, the fiery explosion melting parts of Krogan’s armour. He crashes back to the ground, roaring in defiance, but he’s met with a barrage of gunfire from both women. Tali’s overload hits, and just as he tries to regain his feet, Liara’s biotic force sends him hurtling into a wall, his form crumpling with a final, agonised grunt.

The room falls silent, save for the faint hum of energy still fading from their weapons. Alexis shakes her arm free, her omni-blade sliding back into her gauntlet after she had impaled a Geth and used it as an impromptu shield. Her eyes scan the room, making sure none of their foes have survived. Satisfied, she nods, a hint of pride in her stance. “Alright, move out.”

The sudden voice that crackles to life through the facility’s speakers makes them all jump, instinctively raising their weapons.

“Attention. This facility has entered lockdown for your safety. Heavy damage has been sustained to key systems. Power has been shut down to prevent any further release of subjects. Please proceed to the nearest exit as soon as possible.”

The robotic tone echoes in the silence. Alexis waits, her head tilting as if expecting more, but none comes. “Well, that sounds foreboding,” she mutters, rolling her eyes before motioning forward. “And towards the danger we go.”

The team exits through the same door the Geth and Krogan had entered. It leads them into a short corridor that opens into a room filled with benches. The space is in disarray—scorch marks on the walls, claw marks raking deep grooves into the bulkheads. Alexis’s stomach tightens, her instincts going on high alert. There’s something here—something loose. She doesn’t need the tell-tale claw marks to feel the wrongness that hangs in the air.

“Tali,” she gestures, and the young Quarian nods, her omni-tool glowing as she unlocks the elevator across the room. The doors slide open with a ding, and Alexis lets out a small breath of relief at the sight of the empty cabin. They all pile in, the doors closing behind them as they ascend through the levels of Peak 15.

The elevator opens to a scene that sends a chill through them all. The room is eerily similar to the one they’d entered below, but this one is decorated with the mutilated bodies of Binary Helix staff. Men and women lie torn open, their organs splattered across the cold floor. The freezing temperature has preserved the bodies, and Alexis can’t tell how long they’ve been dead. The cold numbs more than just her body as she moves past them, a grim expression on her face.

They step into another short corridor, and as they advance, they notice the military-grade turrets lining the sides. Tali’s voice comes out in a quiet murmur, breaking the silence. “They’re facing the wrong way.”

Alexis nods grimly. “Not if they were trying to keep something in rather than out.” Her words send a shiver through the group, the implication settling in their minds like a heavy weight. What could have gotten loose in here that required this level of containment? And, more importantly, was it still roaming free?

The door at the end of the hall opens, and they’re hit by a blast of ice-cold wind. The roar of the blizzard is deafening, drowning out almost all other noise. Alexis squints, her eyes narrowing against the gusts. The room they step into has shattered windows lining one side, the blizzard pouring in through the gaping holes. There’s no glass inside, only empty frames. The windows were broken outward, the shards presumably scattered somewhere beyond in the icy wasteland.

A screech catches their attention, all four of them turning at the sound that pierces through the roaring blizzard. At first, it isn’t clear what has even made the sound. Then they hear the skittering of many sharp legs before the creature comes into view—a large insect, roughly the size of Alexis’s boot. She doesn't hesitate. Alexis's pistol barks out, a precise shot obliterates the insect in a spray of viscous fluid. The blood sizzles on the frozen ground, melting the snow with an audible hiss.

The skittering intensifies, filling their ears, dozens of them. Dark shapes emerge from the far side of the room, swarms over the ground with terrifying speed. The four of them unleash a hail of bullets, and the muzzle flashes light up the room in staccato bursts. Quickly switching to her assault rifle, Alexis sweeps it from side to side, the insects explode one by one in flashes of caustic fluid, filling the air with an acrid-smelling haze, thick enough that it burns in the noses of those not in sealed suits. Alexis watches the snow and the surrounding metal sizzle as the acid-filled blood sprays everywhere. Her pulse quickens, fear starting to claw at the edge of her mind. She knows they can’t let even one of these things get close.

She looks back at her squad, just now noticing Wrex narrowing his eyes at the writhing remains of the creatures. Before she can ask him what’s wrong, the ground beneath her erupts.

The snow beneath Alexis explodes upwards, propelling her back, her body slamming into the cold, hard ground. Pain shoots through her as she tries to recover, but there’s no time. A huge form rises from the snow, the grate that had been underneath flung aside to clang against a wall. The monstrous creature is on top of her in an instant. Alexis barely has time to raise her arms, her eyes widening as she takes in the horror of it—huge mandibles snap inches from her visor, rows of teeth spread out in a circle, the creature's mouth gaping open like a nightmare. 

She slams her forearms beneath the creature’s mouth, straining with everything she has; the weight is almost too much. Her gun lies somewhere out of reach, and she feels the pressure of two strong limbs pinning her shoulders down, immobilising her. Panic begins to gnaw at her, her mind flashing with images of being torn apart, her suit dissolving under the acidic blood, the cold feeling of helplessness sinking in.

Suddenly, the crushing weight lifts as Wrex grabs the creature by its back, wrenching it away from Alexis. He roars, tossing it across the room. It lands with a sickening thud, the sound of its spindly legs breaking filling the air even above the howling wind. Wrex bellows his battle cry, firing his assault rifle into the creature as it struggles to stand. 

The bullets slow the creature, but it refuses to die, regaining its footing and charging straight at Wrex. He meets it head-on, swapping to his shotgun and slamming it into the creature's open mouth, shoving the barrel deep inside. Wrex pulls the trigger, again and again, the shotgun’s retort echoing as the creature’s insides are torn apart, the pellets shredding through its body until it finally collapses, its legs giving way.

Wrex yanks his arm free from the creature's gullet, shaking off the blood before it can damage his armour. He strides back toward Alexis, offering his hand. She takes it, her eyes still wide behind her visor. She stares at the massive corpse, her heart pounding. She’s never seen anything like it—far larger than any insect she’s ever encountered, its sheer size and ferocity terrifying.

“Anyone got an idea as to what the hell that thing is?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly despite herself.

Wrex answers instantly, his eyes both haunted and filled with rage. “Rachni.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Alexis can’t believe what she’s hearing. The Rachni are supposed to be extinct—the Krogan wiped them out more than a thousand years ago. “How could that be a Rachni?”

Wrex grinds his teeth together. “I have no idea. But make no mistake, that fucking thing was a Rachni. And by the looks of it, it won’t be the last.”

As if on cue, another one of the huge insects bursts from the ground on the far side of the room. The squad finally gets a chance to look at the creature properly—its segmented body glistening with frost, two long tentacles sprouting from its sides, pointing at them menacingly. Its front limbs end in three-fingered hands, each finger tipped with razor-sharp claws, and the four thick legs drive it forward in a charge, aiming straight for Alexis.

“Fire!” Alexis shouts, her voice carrying over the wind. The squad lays into it, the bullets punching through its thick exoskeleton, splashing acidic blood onto the surrounding snow. Alexis feels her heart race as she watches the blood eat away at the ground, and she feels a rising sense of desperation—they need to kill it before it reaches them. The Rachni collapses with a screech, falling just a meter from Alexis; its death thrashes, spraying more of its corrosive blood. She watches in horror as droplets land on her leg armour, the plating sizzling, the acidic smoke rising past her visor. 

“Stay alert. We can’t have any of them sneaking up on us while we’re here,” Alexis commands, her voice as firm as she can make it, trying to mask the fear gnawing at her gut.

They continue deeper into Peak 15, leaving the room with the smashed windows behind. Two more of the monstrous Rachni and dozens of the smaller ones swarm them as they make their way through the facility. The smaller ones skitter across the floor, their legs clicking against the metal grate, while the larger Rachni burst from beneath them, teeth gnashing. Liara barely escapes injury when one of the creatures erupts from the ground behind her, only to be caught by Wrex. The Krogan tears its tentacle appendage away before it can reach her, his rage palpable.

Wrex is relentless, his shotgun tearing through the Rachni, his laughter echoing across the halls, but Alexis notices something in his eyes—a hint of something darker, a haunted look as he crushes and tears the creatures apart. He seems to relish the violence, almost as if trying to exorcise his own ghosts.

Alexis leads the way into what appears to be the last room of the labyrinthine underground tunnels, her weapon drawn and her senses on high alert. The air is thick with the acrid stench of Rachni ichor, the walls slick with remnants of the battle they’ve fought to reach this point. Every step forward feels heavier, the oppressive atmosphere of the hive bearing down on them, amplifying every creak, every distant echo. The glow from their bioluminescent eyes cuts through the dim light, adding an eerie undertone to the scene.

A sudden movement at the far end of the room grabs Alexis’s attention. The distinct clicking and skittering sound of Rachni claws against metal erupts into chaos as one of the creatures bursts through the far wall, its carapace gleaming under the dim, flickering lights. The Rachni screeches, a high-pitched, bone-chilling sound that reverberates through the chamber.

Alexis reacts instinctively, raising her shotgun and firing a series of controlled bursts. The creature’s momentum staggers as one of her shots connects, ichor spraying in a sickly arc. The force of the impact drives it back momentarily, but the Rachni’s fury is unrelenting as it charges her with renewed ferocity.

From behind her, Wrex’s deep, guttural laugh booms as he unleashes a barrage of fire from his shotgun, shredding the smaller Rachni attempting to flank them. “They just don’t know when to quit, do they?” he growls, blasting another one into pieces with practised ease.

Before Alexis can respond, the larger Rachni lunges, its claws swiping dangerously close. She throws herself into a dive, narrowly avoiding the lethal strike as the creature’s momentum carries it forward. Its massive frame crashes into the wall with a resounding impact, sending shards of debris flying. Alexis rolls to her feet, her breath coming in quick, sharp gasps as she pivots to face it again.

Time seems to slow as she raises her shotgun, aiming for the vulnerable underbelly exposed in the creature’s disoriented state. She pulls the trigger, the weapon’s roar echoing in the enclosed space. The first shot connects, sending a crack through the Rachni’s armoured shell. She doesn’t stop, unloading shell after shell until the creature’s thrashing ceases and it slumps lifelessly to the ground, ichor pooling beneath it.

Her breathing is laboured, each inhale burning in her chest as the adrenaline surges through her veins. She lowers the shotgun slightly, her eyes scanning the room for any remaining threats. Around her, the echoes of the Rachni’s screeches fade into an uneasy silence, leaving only the sounds of her squad’s heavy breathing and the faint hum of Wrex’s shields recharging.

Wrex strides over to her, reloading his shotgun with a practised hand. “Not bad, Shepard. Thought it might have had you for a second there.”

Alexis manages a breathless laugh, wiping a streak of ichor off her helmet’s visor. “Wouldn’t give it the satisfaction,” she replies, her voice tinged with both exhaustion and defiance.

The heavy silence lingers for a moment, the weight of their surroundings settling over them. The chamber, now devoid of the Rachni’s presence, feels both oppressive and strangely hollow. The faint, lingering smell of burnt flesh and acidic blood stings their nostrils.

“Looks like this was the last of them,” Wrex says, breaking the silence as he scans the room with a sharp, experienced eye. “For now, anyway.”

Alexis nods, still catching her breath as she reloads her weapon. She gestures for Wrex to keep watch as she moves cautiously toward the far end of the chamber, her eyes scanning for any sign of movement. Even in the stillness, the tension in the air remains thick, as though the hive itself is holding its breath.

They make their way to the elevator at the end of the room, all of them on edge, fully prepared for another Rachni to burst from the floor at any moment. When the doors finally slide shut behind them, they slump in relief, feeling the elevator begin its ascent. Alexis takes a deep breath, the tension easing from her shoulders, though her heart is still pounding. She had chosen to take them straight to the VI core that runs Peak 15—if they can get that back up and running, maybe they can find Matriarch Benezia without having to face another swarm of Rachni.

As the elevator moves, Alexis glances at her squad. Wrex is still breathing heavily, his eyes burning with barely suppressed fury. Tali is checking her gear, her fingers trembling slightly, looking as shaken to Alexis as she is sure Alexis looks to Tali, the two standing close together. Liara looks pale, her eyes wide, the shock of what they just fought clear on her face. Alexis looks down at her own armour, the acidic burns from the Rachni blood marring the plating, the melted edges still smoking slightly. She takes a deep breath, forcing herself to push away the fear. They’re not done yet. They have a mission to complete. And she’ll be damned if she lets anything stop them.

The elevator door opens, the squad cautiously edging out of the elevator. They are being very careful, knowing that a Rachni could pop out of the floor at any moment. Alexis sweeps back and forth with her rifle as she strides further in, coming to a junction, keeping her forward path without losing any momentum. This is the one leading to the VI’s core, so she knows it is the one to take.

Surprisingly, they run into no more Rachni the whole way to the core, not even a hint of a sound from the insectoid race. Alexis thinks this is odd, not letting her guard down for even a moment just in case her ears are wrong. The core itself proves to have no power coming to it whatsoever, every light that should indicate its functionality is off. Alexis moves into the small space in the middle of the core, experimentally flipping a few switches, getting no response.

“What are you doing?” Tali’s amused tone brings a smile to Alexis’s face.

“Trying to get it to turn on.”

The Quarian laughs, “Not like that you’re not. Let me look at it.”

Tali slides past Alexis, both of them in the small space, almost pressed together. It only takes Tali a few seconds to figure out the problem, flipping several switches in rapid sequence until there is a hum as some of the VI’s systems come back online. Tali straightens back up, pleased with herself. A deep rumbling echoes in the space, the floor beneath Alexis and Tali suddenly beginning to descend. They look at each other, both confused at this turn of events. Wrex and Liara lean over the space from outside once it has stopped, the Krogan chuckling at their predicament.

“Need a hand up, ladies?”

Alexis almost begins to reply before Tali interrupts them, “Wait. I think this is what we need.” She squats down on the floor, connecting her omni-tool to the VI. Alexis watches as she expertly manipulates the minimal power supply that is even flowing through Peak 15, redirecting just enough to fully bring the VI back online. The second she enters the last command, every light turns back on, the hum becoming much louder. The small elevator rises back up, bringing the two of them back to the same level as Wrex and Liara.

Tali and Alexis step back as a female hologram flickers to life in front of them, taking a few seconds to fully actualise itself.

“Greetings. I am Mira, VI controller for Peak 15. How may I be of assistance?”

“Can you tell me what happened here?” Alexis wants to see what she can get out of the VI about the Rachni.

“Three days ago, there was a containment breach in the Hot Labs. A Code Omega shutdown was enacted to prevent any further breaches. My landline access has been severed, so I am unable to provide any further data about the current state of the Hot Labs.” The VI pauses, the hologram flickering slightly, “New information also indicates there has also been a leak in the Helium-3 reactor at this site. If not dealt with in a timely fashion, the reactor may enter meltdown, and a catastrophic event may occur.”

“What caused the containment breach?”

“I am unable to provide that information at this time. My logs of the event have been wiped, in accordance with the Code Omega shutdown. Binary Helix’s policies require this of all VI personnel in the event of a Code Omega.”

“Fuck.” Alexis’s one-word statement sums up her feelings nicely. “How do I get to the Hot Labs?”

“All access to Rift Station and the Hot Labs has been cut off in accordance with the Code Omega shutdown.”

“Okay, how do I lift the shutdown?”

“Reconnecting the landlines and repairing the reactor leak will downgrade the shutdown, restoring power and allowing full access to Rift Station and the Hot Labs for authorised personnel.”

Alexis groans, “Ugh, fine. Guess we’re solving these problems too.” She walks off, grumbling to herself about always having to fix everyone’s problems.

They follow the signs towards the Helium-3 reactor, carefully listening out for any more Rachni. The silence is oppressive, every creak and groan of the station putting the squad on edge. The corridors seem to stretch endlessly, the cold air biting at them even through their suits. As they get closer, they hear the distinctive sound of a different enemy. The Geth. Alexis can hear them just on the other side of the door leading to the reactor itself, giving hand signals to the other three. She crouches down in the middle of the doorway, Wrex on one side of her, Tali on the other. Liara stands near the door’s controls, a singularity primed in one hand, the other on the button.

The Asari opens the door, Alexis, Wrex, and Tali opening fire immediately. Liara tosses her singularity blindly, managing to catch up a trooper which careens into another, putting them both out of the fight. The three shotgun-wielders of the squad march in as one, driving the Geth forces back. Tali overloads several, advancing far enough to shoot one through the chest at point-blank range.

The fighting stops, all Geth they can see are disabled. Alexis stalks further into the reactor’s room, making her way towards the controls on the far side. Tali joins her as she arrives, both eyeing the output screens for the reactor itself. Tali’s eyes widen at what she sees, “None of the safety measures are engaged. It’s almost like someone wanted the rest of Peak 15 cut off.”

“Benezia. It has to be, right? Prevent anyone from following her by literally making it impossible to.” Alexis’s suggestion is the only one that even makes any sense.

Liara comes up behind them, “It’s something my mother would do. She was never one to leave out any possibility of threats to her plans, however unlikely.”

Tali quickly turns all the safety features on, Mira’s voice echoing above them, “Reactor functionality restored. This facility still remains under Code Omega lockdown.”

With the synthetic voice comes bullets flying over their heads. The four of them dive to the ground, Alexis only just able to see more Geth coming in from the entrance to the reactor. “Oh, come on! Can’t they just leave us alone for five minutes?!” She pops up over the railing, taking out a Geth with a precise shot to the lamp at the top of its head, “I mean really, where’s their common decency?”

“Asking a synthetic-” Tali interrupts her own sentence as she incinerates a Geth from afar, “-about common decency is a bit redundant.”

Alexis shoots the last Geth, nodding to Tali, “Got me there.” She looks around, making sure none have survived and that the reactor is still intact. “We better get moving, no telling how many more Geth there are.”

They move out of the reactor, heading for the landline connection. The tension is palpable, each step echoing off the metal walls as if the station itself is holding its breath. “My mother probably sent them after us.” Alexis raises an eyebrow at Liara, “The Geth, I mean. She knows we’re here, I’m sure of it. If not precisely us, then definitely someone contrary to her plans. Benezia has never taken any threats to her plans lightly.”

“She’s gonna have to try a bit harder than that.”

Liara is concerned at Alexis’s cocky attitude towards her mother’s efforts. Benezia will not hesitate to use any means at her disposal to stop them if that is what her goals require. She has no doubt she would kill Alexis, Tali, or Wrex if she deems it necessary. Whether she would kill her own daughter… Liara isn’t entirely certain. She hasn’t seen Benezia in years, and even when she had, their relationship had not been exactly warm and loving. Benezia was a hard person to get close to, even if you were tied to her like Liara. Even their blood connection hadn’t made their relationship any closer once Liara had grown up. She is well aware of her mother’s disdain for her chosen career path, and that most likely still holds true at least in some regard. The fact that she is here with Alexis specifically to stop her is not going to make this any more pleasant either.

An elevator leads them to the roof, a short icy corridor greeting them as the door opens. The walls and floor are slick with snow, frozen patches of ice clinging to the walls. The moment the outside is exposed, the blizzard makes itself known, sweeping into the short hall with a vengeance. Alexis is buffeted back slightly before righting herself and continuing on outside. Why the landlines to Peak 15 have to be completely exposed to the weather is completely beyond her.

The dark of night has begun to fall on Noveria, making it almost impossible to see combined with the raging blizzard. The storm rages on, fierce and unyielding, as if the very world is set against them. All four switch on their flashlights, barely making a difference in their capability to see. The wind howls around them, carrying biting snowflakes that sting against their armour. They trudge out further into the dark, roughly guided by markings on the ground leading them to the right place. Each step feels like a struggle, the weight of their armour and the sheer force of the elements bearing down on them.

All four freeze on the spot at a sound. Skittering legs from behind them. They turn, flashlights pointing forward and just allowing them to see the enemy. Rachni. More than they’ve previously faced. Dozens of the smaller ones as well as at least ten of the much larger ones. “GET BACK!” Alexis’s command is obeyed, firing into the Rachni, trying to buy time for them all to get into cover.

Alexis throws a grenade into the middle of the pack before getting behind cover herself, the explosion disorienting the Rachni just enough so they lose track of her.

The Rachni keep coming, their screeches almost lost in the howling wind of the blizzard. The air is thick with the acrid stench of acid, their blood spraying and hissing as it eats into the snow. Alexis feels her pulse pounding in her ears, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. She pulls the trigger again and again, every shot a small victory in the chaos surrounding them.

Tali fights by her side, and the normally confident Quarian shows signs of unease. The acid splashes on her suit, and she gasps, stumbling backward as the plating begins to sizzle and corrode. The horrifying sight of her suit being eaten away makes Alexis’s stomach twist. In Quarian culture, a suit is not just armour; it is life. It is safety, identity, the very extension of the body. To see it corrode, to see it disintegrate under the acid, is like watching a part of Tali herself being stripped away—a terrifying reminder of how vulnerable they both are in this fight. The fear is palpable, and Alexis can feel it herself—a fear not just of death, but of losing a piece of themselves, a piece of their culture that is so integral to their identity.

“Tali, fall back! Get behind me!” Alexis shouts, her voice barely audible over the chaos. She pushes forward, positioning herself between Tali and the advancing Rachni. The acid sprays across her own armour, and she feels the searing burn as it begins to eat away at the protective layers. The acrid smell fills her nostrils, and her heart sinks, knowing her own suit, her own safety, is being compromised. Despite the danger, she holds her position, refusing to let Tali take another hit. She grits her teeth as she feels the burn intensify, the acid seeping into the joints of her armour. Her heart hammers as she realises that every second she stands there is a second closer to her suit becoming completely compromised. But she doesn’t move—she won’t move. Not while Tali needs her.

Tali staggers, her breathing audible over the comms, her voice trembling. “Keelah, Alexis… it’s…” She doesn’t need to finish. The horror is evident in her tone. To see her suit—something that has protected her, kept her alive, symbolised her heritage—being melted away, even if just in patches, is a shock that reverberates deep into her core. The fear of exposure, of infection, looms over her, and it’s all she can do to steady her shaking hands enough to raise her shotgun. Every instinct screams at her to retreat, to get away from the acid, the Rachni, the threat of her suit failing entirely. But she looks at Alexis, the Commander standing there, shielding her, and something steadies within her. She takes a breath, forcing herself to focus, to fight.

“You’re okay, Tali. I’ve got you,” Alexis reassures, her own voice strained but resolute. She fires again, the recoil jolting through her as another Rachni falls. Her armour is steaming, the acidic blood continuing to burn through, and she can feel her own fear bubbling up. The thought of losing her suit, of being exposed—like Tali, her suit has become part of her identity. It’s her connection to her past, to the Quarian culture she adopted, and now it’s being ripped away, bit by bit. The thought is horrifying, and Alexis feels a surge of anger, her jaw clenching as she fires again, determined not to let the Rachni take this from her. Her fingers ache from the cold and from the repeated recoil, but she doesn't stop. She can't stop.

Wrex, on the other side of the fray, roars as he tears through a Rachni, his shotgun barking loudly in the storm. He’s a juggernaut, moving through the battlefield with a force that seems unstoppable. Even so, Alexis can see the way his armour is also marked by burns, the acidic blood splattering his thick plating. Despite it all, Wrex presses on, his laugh booming across the battlefield—a terrifying, guttural sound that almost seems to challenge the Rachni to do their worst. He’s unfazed, relentless, and it’s that kind of courage that Alexis draws on. She grits her teeth and pushes forward, shielding Tali with her body, her every movement driven by the desire to protect her team.

Tali, in turn, finds herself strengthened by Alexis's determination. She raises her shotgun, her hands steadying as she draws strength from the sight of Alexis standing between her and the swarm. She fires, the loud blasts cutting through the screeching of the Rachni, and each shot feels like reclaiming a part of herself—refusing to let fear dominate her. The acidic blood splatters again, and Tali winces as it eats away at another piece of her armour, but she doesn’t stop. She focuses on Alexis’s voice and occasional growl in her comm, the steady reassurances keeping her grounded.

The two women fight side by side, their armour corroding, the acidic stench filling the air, but neither backs down. It is more than just a fight against the Rachni—it is a fight for their survival, their identity, their connection to their heritage. And as they continue to push forward, the fear slowly gives way to something else. A fierce determination burns in Alexis's chest, and she knows Tali feels it too. They won't let the Rachni take this from them. Not their lives, not their heritage. Together, they will endure.

Wrex, with his relentless assault, and Liara’s biotic abilities, finally manage to push the remaining Rachni back. The rooftop falls silent except for the howling wind of the blizzard and the hissing of melting armour. Alexis looks at Tali, their eyes meeting through their visors, and they share a moment of silent understanding. The storm rages around them, the cold biting at whatever skin they have exposed, but the true weight of the moment comes from the sight of their damaged suits. Both of them are battered, their armour pockmarked by acid, but they are still standing, still breathing. It’s a fragile kind of victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“Tali, you okay?” Alexis asks, her voice softer now, the adrenaline beginning to ebb. There’s a quaver beneath the calm, a hint of the fear that lingers after the battle is over. The suits they wear are more than just protection—they are part of who they are, and seeing them damaged is like seeing a part of themselves broken.

Tali nods, her voice steady despite everything. “I’m okay, Alexis. Thank you... for protecting me.” She pauses, her eyes scanning over Alexis’s frame, her visor barely concealing the concern in her gaze. “Are you okay?”

Alexis offers a weary smile beneath her helmet. “We protected each other, and I'm still in the fight,” she says, but her eyes flicker down to the damage along her armour. She traces a jagged line where the acid had eaten away at the plating, her voice shaking slightly. “Though I can't say the same for our armour.”

Tali nods, her posture softening. She steps closer, the distance between them shrinking until they’re almost touching, leaning into each other for support. It’s instinctive, a gesture of solidarity in this desolate and hostile location. For a moment, the blizzard and the darkness fade away, and it’s just the two of them, taking comfort in each other’s presence.

“Let me help,” Tali offers, her voice gentle but firm. There’s an intimacy in the words that both of them understand—allowing someone to tend to your suit, your lifeline, is an act of deep trust.

Alexis nods in thanks, watching as Tali activates her omni-tool. The soft orange glow illuminates the space between them, casting a gentle warmth against the snow, a stark contrast to the icy blue of the blizzard around them. The holographic interface flickers as she begins scanning Alexis's armour, her gloved fingers deftly navigating the repair protocols. The data streams across her visor, highlighting the critical damage points. The soft hum of the tool fills the silence, a reassuring sound amidst the chaos they’ve endured.

While Tali works, Alexis pulls out a few of her emergency suit sealants, the compact canisters feeling heavier than they should in her hands. She injects them into the major breaches of her own suit first, feeling the material expand and harden, sealing the gaps as best as possible. Once done, she turns her attention to Tali, her movements careful and deliberate. The sealant hisses softly as she applies it to the worst of the damage on Tali’s suit, her fingers brushing against the Quarian’s arm as she works.

Tali looks at Alexis, their faces close, the shared vulnerability of the moment unspoken but deeply felt. The suits they wear are symbols of their identity—Tali’s, a representation of her people, her culture, her fragility and resilience; Alexis’s, a bridge between two worlds, a blend of Quarian and human influences.

“Thank you, Alexis,” Tali whispers, her voice barely audible over the howling wind. There’s a softness there, a gratitude that goes beyond just the physical act of patching her suit. It’s for the unspoken understanding, for the willingness to be vulnerable with each other.

Alexis meets her gaze, her voice equally soft. “Thank you, Tali.”

Wrex stands by the elevator, ever the warrior, but his gaze is softer as he watches the two women. He knows what it means to protect what’s important, to guard what’s sacred. He keeps his guard up, shotgun ready, as Liara steps up beside him, her eyes scanning the rooftop. “Anyone see how to fix it?” Alexis asks, her voice steady, masking the lingering anxiety as she finishes sealing their armours.

“I saw something over here!” Liara’s voice cuts through the blizzard, bringing a wave of relief. Tali and Alexis make their way over to her position.

“Hold the lights up so I can see,” Tali orders, her confidence evident as she kneels down to inspect the damage. Alexis holds her light steady, watching as Tali’s fingers work quickly, her omni-tool providing the tools she needs. There’s something almost soothing about watching Tali work—her hands moving with purpose, her focus absolute.

As Tali manipulates the connections, Alexis finds herself glancing at the damaged part of her own suit. It’s a stark reminder of how fragile they all are, even in their armour, even in their strength. She clenches her jaw, willing herself to focus, to stay strong for her team. This fight isn’t over, and she won’t allow fear to take hold.

After several minutes, Tali stands, her omni-tool beeping in confirmation. The landline emits a gentle hum, and Mira’s voice echoes over the speakers, her synthetic calm a stark contrast to the chaos of the fight. “Landline connection to Rift Station has been restored. Code Omega has been lifted. Binary Helix reminds all employees that this facility is still under lockdown to all those without sufficient security clearance. If you are without the required security clearance, please make your way to the exits.”

“Can we get out of the cold now?” Alexis asks, her teeth chattering slightly as she tries to regain some warmth. The cold of Noveria is biting, seeping into her bones despite the suit. The exhaustion from the fight, the adrenaline now fading, leaves her feeling the chill even more acutely.

Without waiting for an answer, she turns toward Wrex and heads for the elevator. She’s had enough of the biting wind and the constant threat of attack. They’ve made progress, but there’s still so much left to do, and she needs them all in one piece to face what’s coming next.

The path back to Mira’s console has only two more Rachni to deal with. Wrex eagerly takes care of them, his shotgun blasting through their carapaces, his movements filled with an anger that seems almost personal. Alexis can see the tension in his shoulders, the frown etched deep on his face. She knows why—the Rachni are not just an enemy to Wrex, they represent an old, almost primal wound for the Krogan. His ancestors fought them, died by the thousands to end their threat, and here they are again, as if history were mocking him. Wrex crushes the Rachni with a viciousness that leaves no doubt of his feelings.

Mira’s hologram flickers to life as they return, “Code Omega shutdown has been lifted. Access to Rift Station for authorised personnel is now permitted.” It scans Alexis, “Commander Shepard, Spectre. You have authorisation to travel to Rift Station.”

Alexis is taken aback, but pleased. If she is authorised for that just for being a Spectre, what other information could she get out of the VI? “What caused the shutdown to Rift Station?”

“A containment breach in the Hot Labs—”

“Yes, yes, you said that. But what got out?”

Mira is silent for several seconds, “Apologies, Commander Shepard, you are not authorised for that information.”

Alexis narrows her eyes, tempted to see if Tali could hack her way through the VI’s ‘not authorised’ nonsense. She thinks better of it, exhaling in frustration. “Is there anyone still alive in Rift Station or the Hot Labs?”

The hologram flickers before giving its answer, “Some of Rift Station’s personnel are present in the dormitories and security stations. Matriarch Benezia, several other Asari, and unknown synthetic individuals are also present.”

Alexis’s lips curl into a faint smile. At least they have confirmation that Benezia is there, and this mission isn’t a waste of time. “How do I get to Rift Station?”

“A tram is available to transport you through the facility near my core. Be advised, containment procedures have been breached, and it may be unsafe.”

Alexis spins on her heel, heading straight for the elevator down to the tram with her squad in tow. As they step out of the elevator, they come to a sudden halt. The door opens, and all four freeze as they look through a large glass window at the path they need to take—four of the larger Rachni in a cramped security checkpoint. Alexis takes a cautious step forward, but the insects do not react to her presence at all. Another step, still nothing. She manages to get all the way to the glass, the creatures seemingly oblivious. Alexis waves her hand slightly, testing for any reaction. “Must be a one-way mirror.”

Mira’s hologram abruptly appears in the corner of the room, causing Alexis to flinch at the sudden movement in her peripheral vision. “Contaminants are currently present in the security checkpoint to Rift Station. Shall I activate plasma vent decontamination procedures?” 

Alexis, getting over her startle, nods, “Yes, do it.”

“Initiating decontamination.” There is a pause… and nothing happens. Mira continues, “Plasma vent is currently inoperable. Please contact maintenance to fix this issue at your earliest convenience.”

Alexis sighs heavily, muttering to herself, “Why did I expect that to actually work?” She turns to her squad, her expression one of exasperation, “Look around, we might be able to fix it.” 

They scatter, and it doesn’t take long before they find the issue—a severed power cable, sliced clean through. Tali kneels next to the damage, her visor tilting in thought. 

“I swear… your mother better have some good answers for us, Liara. All this trouble just to stop us,” Alexis mutters, frustration slipping into her voice.

Liara looks slightly downcast, her shoulders sagging. Alexis notices too late, her own words turning bitter in her mouth. She didn’t mean to sound accusatory. “I hope so too, Shepard,” Liara says quietly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. 

Alexis feels a pang of regret at the unintended slight but doesn’t know how to fix it. Instead, she busies herself with Tali at the plasma vent controls, though mostly just watching Tali work or doing what Tali instructs her to do. The two of them are close together, Tali’s hands moving swiftly, reconnecting wires, her omni-tool glowing orange in the dim light. The proximity between them feels comforting to Alexis—a reminder that even in the midst of all this chaos, they’re not alone.

After a minute of focused work, Tali stands, nodding. “That should do it.”

Alexis steps back to the console, a small smile on her lips as she presses the button. “Initiating decontamination.” This time, there’s a rumble as the plasma vents power up, followed by a sudden rush of super-heated gas that fills the chamber. The Rachni immediately react, their bodies writhing and scratching desperately at the walls in a futile attempt to escape. Their shrieks echo through the checkpoint, a chorus of agony that sends a shiver down Alexis’s spine. One by one, they are reduced to ash, the remains swept away by the vents in the floor. 

“Decontamination complete. Security checkpoint is now open,” Mira announces, her voice indifferent to the carnage.

The door hisses open, releasing the sharp, acrid smell of incinerated Rachni. She glances at Wrex, who inhales deeply, a grin spreading across his face.

“Now that’s a good smell. Dead enemy.” He marches forward, his heavy steps leading the way through the checkpoint.

The tram station is abandoned, bathed in dim emergency lighting that flickers intermittently, casting strange shadows across the walls. Alexis moves cautiously, her shotgun raised, eyes scanning every corner. She reaches the tram’s door, pressing the button to open it, then quickly steps back, weapon ready for anything that might come out.

The door slides open, and as expected, a swarm of the tiny Rachni scuttles out, their legs tapping erratically on the metal floor. Alexis doesn’t hesitate—she fires, her shotgun’s blast echoing through the empty station. Three blasts later, the Rachni are nothing more than smouldering remains, their acidic blood hissing as it eats away at the floor. 

“Watch your step,” she warns, her voice calm but edged with fatigue. She steps gingerly over the remains, her eyes flicking to Tali. The Quarian follows, her movements careful, and Alexis can’t help but feel a wave of protectiveness. She knows how vulnerable they both are in these suits, and they are likely going to be spending at least a day in the med bay after this mission under supervision or fighting off an infection, a childhood of living in a sealed suit even after the vaccinations and the forced exposure to environments, under medical supervision, her immune system still isn't the strongest when it comes to foreign contaminates.

Once inside, Alexis takes the controls, setting the tram in motion. She exhales slowly, feeling the tension in her shoulders start to ease as they move forward, the tram gliding along the tracks. The station fades away behind them, swallowed by the blizzard and darkness.

“Next stop, Rift Station,” she says, her tone lightening just a bit, though her eyes remain focused on the path ahead. They still have a long way to go, and she needs to be ready for whatever comes next.

For some reason, Alexis had been expecting Rachni to flood the tram on the way to their destination. The oppressive atmosphere of the facility was playing havoc with her intuition, always waiting for the next attack by the insectoid creatures. She was on edge as the tram doors chimed open, and she instinctively pressed her shotgun hard against her shoulder in preparation. With nothing immediately in her line of sight, Alexis rolled out the door, springing back up into a crouch and scanning the room swiftly, her heart thudding. Still, nothing.

Alexis relaxes slightly, climbing to her feet. "All clear. For now, anyway." The rest of the squad nods in agreement, their eyes still flicking warily around the room, their weapons raised and ready.

All four freeze at the sound of distant voices, muffled but unmistakably human. 

"Was that the tram?" one voice calls.

"No, it can’t be. The whole place is under lockdown. Mira wouldn’t have let anyone through," another voice argues.

"You can’t be serious. That was the tram, I know it," the first voice counters.

"Well, I’m in charge, and we’re not going to fucking look, so just drop it," the second voice snaps.

Alexis exchanges a glance with Tali, nodding towards the direction of the voices. Alexis leads them forward, her rifle held low but ready, prepared to fire at the first sign of trouble. They come around the corner, and a makeshift barricade comes into view, with several security officers stationed behind it. Their weapons are all trained on Alexis's squad. 

One of the guards panics, and a gunshot echoes through the narrow corridor, missing Alexis’s head by a few inches. She doesn’t flinch, instead taking a deliberate step forward into the light so they can see her properly. 

The lead security officer shouts, “Weapons down! They’re not one of those things!” 

The room is splattered with Rachni blood, and several Rachni corpses are piled in the corners, the remains of a desperate struggle. The lead officer takes a cautious step forward, lowering his weapon. "Identify yourselves, if you wouldn’t mind."

Alexis straightens up, glad to have found some survivors. "Commander Alexis'Shepard, Spectre, and Alliance Navy. And you are?"

“Captain Ventralis, Binary Helix security chief for Peak 15. Boy, are we glad to see you. We’ve been fighting those… those… those things for days.”

"Rachni," Alexis says bluntly.

The captain visibly pales, the rest of his team exchanging nervous glances. "Rach… Rach… Rachni? We’ve been fighting Rachni." He stutters, looking lost, "No, no, no, his people—" he points a trembling finger at Wrex, "—killed them all thousands of years ago. They can’t be Rachni. They—"

Alexis holds up a hand, cutting him off before he spirals further. "Look, it doesn’t really matter what they are. I need your help." Ventralis nods, swallowing hard. "Where is Matriarch Benezia?" Alexis presses.

The room goes dead silent at the mention of Benezia, and Ventralis looks uncomfortable. “Dead, most likely,” he finally says. “She was in the labs when the lockdown hit. No way she survived being surrounded by those monsters.”

Liara steps forward, her expression resolute. “If you think that, you don’t know Benezia very well.”

Ventralis glances at her, clearly uneasy, but continues. "Whatever the case is, you can’t get to her. The Hot Labs are crawling with those Rachni. You’d have to get through them to reach her, and it's a death trap down there."

Alexis rests her assault rifle over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing in determination. "Looks like we’re going to the Hot Labs. Which way?"

Ventralis looks exasperated, shaking his head. “Aren’t you listening? You’ll die down there!”

Frustration flares in Alexis's voice. “Captain. I need to get down there. It’s not an exaggeration when I say the fate of the galaxy depends on it. Now, how do I get to the Hot Labs?”

The desperation in Alexis’s voice, combined with the fierce determination in her eyes, seems to get through to Ventralis. He sighs, then pulls out his ID, holding it out reluctantly. "Past us, through the dormitories, there's an elevator we locked down. This will get you access. And may God have mercy on your souls."

Alexis takes the card and rolls her eyes, muttering, "Right... you too." 

They walk through the barricade, the security personnel watching them with wary eyes, particularly when Wrex passes. The Krogan gives a menacing glare, causing the guards to look away quickly. They also throw apprehensive glances at Liara, as if expecting her to suddenly turn on them. Alexis wonders what Benezia could have done to leave these people so distrustful of an Asari. It only steels her resolve.

The squad soon reaches the dormitories, and Alexis is stunned by how many people are still alive here. Scientists and other personnel huddle in small groups, their eyes hollow and haunted. The trauma of the past few days is written on every face, a mixture of exhaustion, fear, and hopelessness. It makes Alexis's stomach twist with determination—she cannot let these people down.

The room goes silent as they walk through, all eyes fixed on the four heavily armed figures striding purposefully toward the elevator. No one speaks. Alexis glances around, offering a nod to those who meet her gaze, trying to reassure them. She can't fail them now.

The elevator lurches into motion, descending deep into the facility. Deeper than Alexis expected. It makes sense, though—putting the Hot Labs this far underground meant that, if things went wrong, containment would be easier. Unfortunately, the Rachni had proven more resourceful than the designers of this facility had accounted for. As they descend, Alexis clenches her jaw, preparing for whatever might be waiting for them. 

All four of them drop to one knee as the elevator comes to a stop, weapons ready. The doors slide open, and the squad finds themselves facing... nothing. The large room is eerily silent, devoid of movement. No Rachni, no corpses—just an unsettling emptiness.

Alexis rises cautiously, taking slow steps forward, every muscle tense. She expects the floor to burst open, for Rachni to come pouring out, but the room remains eerily calm. It’s the unexpected sound of footsteps that finally breaks the silence.

A man stumbles into view, his clothes soaked in blood, an ugly wound seeping from his side. He has his hands up, and despite the obvious pain, he smiles at Alexis, his face drawn and pale. “Huh, thought I was going to die alone. Although, if you’ve come down here, either you’re suicidal or you don’t know what’s going on.” He lets out a dry chuckle, only to collapse into a violent coughing fit.

Alexis is at his side in an instant, slinging his arm over her shoulder and helping him to sit against the wall. "Easy there. You need medical attention."

The man gives her a tired, wry smile. "Nonsense. I’ll be fine.” Alexis raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Okay, maybe I’m definitely going to die, but I can still help you kill all the Rachni," he manages through another cough.

Alexis frowns. “You should rest. You’re in no condition—”

“No, listen to me,” he interrupts, his voice weak but insistent. “There’s a failsafe. A neutron purge. It’ll kill them all—burn them out of their little hidey holes.” He coughs again, grimacing in pain.

"A neutron purge?" Alexis repeats, surprised. "You’re willing to wipe them out? You’ve been studying them—surely there’s something worth saving."

He shakes his head emphatically. "No. Not these. They’re mindless, nothing but pure instinct—kill or be killed. We can’t risk it. Trust me, this is the only way." He raises his omni-tool with effort. "This has all the codes you'll need. Just... make sure you stay in the control room once it's activated. You don't want to be anywhere else when it goes off."

Alexis hesitates, eyeing his injuries. “And what about you?”

He chuckles darkly. “This is it for me. Better to go out clean than let these wounds take their time.” He points towards a hallway. “The control room is that way. Go. Do it quickly.”

Reluctantly, Alexis takes the omni-tool, nodding solemnly. “Thank you.” She digs into her supplies and forces a portion of medi-gel into his hands. He tries to protest, but Alexis shakes her head. "Take it. It won’t change much, but it might ease things a bit."

With that, the squad moves on, leaving the dying man behind. They reach the control room swiftly, the sequence on the omni-tool allowing them access. Alexis's finger hovers over the command for a moment before pressing it.

“Should be a straight shot to Benezia after this. Everyone ready?” She looks at each of her squadmates. They nod, though Liara’s expression is worried. Alexis turns her attention to the young Asari. “Are you sure, Liara?”

Liara nods again, more resolutely this time. “Yes. I’m ready.” Her eyes shift down, and she adds, almost to herself, “Can’t really back out now, can I?”

Alexis nods, giving Liara a brief smile before inputting the final command.

There’s a rumbling beneath their feet as the purge begins to power up. The temperature in the room rises as the system engages, small Rachni trying to flee from hidden nooks and crannies, but they don’t stand a chance. Vents open, unleashing a wave of neutron radiation, igniting the very air. Through the window, Alexis watches the creatures writhe in their death throes before collapsing, their bodies disintegrating to ash. 

The sight is both satisfying and sobering—so much life reduced to nothing in moments. Yet she knows it’s necessary. The room shakes, the intensity of the purge seeming to echo the rage of the facility at being compromised.

Finally, the doors unlock, and the room settles into an unnatural quiet. The acrid smell of burnt flesh lingers, though far less intense than if the Rachni had bled. Alexis cautiously steps out, her rifle ready just in case. But the Hot Labs are empty, every trace of the Rachni eradicated. 

Room by room, they proceed, all empty. This must have been their main nest, Alexis realises. The number they had faced in Peak 15 seemed so small compared to what she had seen here. The Rachni must have had a queen somewhere—there was no other explanation for the sheer number. But where had Binary Helix obtained a queen? How long had this been happening, hidden away beneath the ice and secrecy?

Alexis leads her squad down a long, dimly lit hallway, its walls plastered with hazard signs warning of dangerous conditions ahead. The eerie atmosphere and flickering lights suggest that whatever lies beyond is not going to be easy. Alexis has a feeling that this is where Benezia is waiting—where everything in Peak 15 has been leading them.

She signals her team to check their weapons. They all comply, swapping thermal clips and readying themselves. They have one goal: get to Matriarch Benezia and stop her before she can disappear or, worse, destroy herself to prevent them from extracting information. Alexis is aware of the stakes; time is precious, and they need as much of it as possible to find out what Benezia knows.

They push into the next room, and it is unlike anything Alexis had anticipated. 

In the middle of the chamber is an enormous container, the sides towering high enough to obscure whatever is inside. The space is wide open, a pit encircling the central container, creating an imposing, industrial look. A raised platform stretches across the room, with stairs leading up to it directly in front of them. On that platform, a lone figure stands. Benezia—majestic, confident, and unmistakable. The elder Asari's stance exudes both power and arrogance as she looks forward, acknowledging their entrance but barely reacting to it.

Alexis takes a few cautious steps forward, her eyes locked on Benezia, ready for any sudden attack.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to reach me,” Benezia’s voice carries over the cavernous room, dripping with condescension. Her gaze remains steady on the container as she addresses them, her tone as scathing as it is dismissive. “Dealing with the Rachni in such a brutish manner—it speaks to your ignorance if nothing else.” 

She twists her head slightly, her eyes catching Alexis's, cold and unyielding. "To harm such beautiful creatures with such violence… you are children, playing with forces beyond your comprehension."

Alexis uses Benezia’s distraction to sidestep towards the container, her heart pounding as she catches a glimpse of what’s inside. Her breath catches in her throat—there, staring back at her with enormous eyes, is a Rachni Queen, its massive form dwarfing anything else in the room.

Benezia’s voice grows sharper as her gaze follows Alexis’s movement. “Her children were to be ours. To sweep across the galaxy, slaying Saren’s enemies. And you… murdered them!” She turns fully to face Alexis now, her fury barely restrained.

Alexis meets Benezia's glare and rolls her eyes, exasperation lacing her tone. "They were mindless—feral."

Benezia scoffs, her lips curling into a sneer. “Less so than you.” She points at Liara, though her eyes remain on Alexis, her disdain palpable. “What? Did you think you could sway me with sympathy? That bringing my daughter here would convince me to change my course? I see right through you, Commander.”

Alexis shakes her head. “Liara is here because she insisted on it. She’s not a bargaining chip. She wanted to be here, to try to reach you. That’s it.”

Benezia lets out a harsh laugh. “Oh? And what lies have you told them, Liara?” Her gaze shifts to her daughter, her expression one of cold amusement. “Have you told them that I was a terrible mother? That I had no time for you? That I never encouraged you? What slander have you spread among these… children?”

Liara steps forward, her eyes blazing. “I’ve told them nothing but the truth,” she says, her voice trembling with rage. “That you’ve changed. That whatever you were before, this—working with Saren—is beyond comprehension. I don’t even recognise you anymore.”

Benezia remains impassive, her voice flat. “As if you ever truly knew me, child.”

Liara’s hands ball into fists, her frustration boiling over. “You were my mother. And now you’re just… this.” She gestures at Benezia, her anger palpable. “I came here hoping to find something left of the woman who raised me. But all I see is someone lost to madness.”

Benezia folds her arms across her chest, dismissive. “You are still the same, Liara. Naïve, foolish, and hopelessly sentimental.”

Alexis takes a step up the stairs, her voice firm but almost pleading. “Surrender, Benezia. We don’t have to do this. Help me stop Saren. We can end this without more bloodshed.”

For a brief moment, Benezia’s expression softens, a flicker of hesitation passing over her features. Alexis sees it, her heart leaping with hope. But as soon as it appears, it vanishes, replaced by a mask of cold determination. 

“Saren cannot be stopped. His plan will bring peace to the galaxy. It is the only righteous path.” The words are accompanied by a sudden flare of biotic energy, and before Alexis can react, Benezia thrusts her hand out. Alexis is thrown backward, her body slamming against the steps before she tumbles to the floor below. She grunts as she hits the ground, quickly scrambling to her feet, ignoring the ache in her limbs.

Benezia’s lips curl into a faint smile. “You cannot stop him. None of you can.”

Benezia gestures, and doors on either side of the room slide open. Five Asari commandos, dressed in dark combat armor, step through, their weapons drawn. They advance with military precision, their movements calculated and synchronised. 

Alexis clenches her jaw, eyes narrowing as she assesses them. “You’re really going to send your own people to die?” she shouts, her voice echoing through the chamber.

Benezia’s voice rings out, calm and almost mocking. “Have you ever faced an Asari commando unit, Commander? Few humans have had the pleasure.”

Alexis turns her focus back to the approaching Asari, her expression hardening. She shoves her rifle onto her back, opting for her shotgun. She turns to her team. “Stick together! We’re taking them down!”

The Asari commandos spread out, surrounding Alexis and her squad. Wrex lets out a deep, guttural roar, charging headlong into the closest commando. The two clash violently, Wrex’s shotgun blasting at close range as he grapples with his opponent.

Tali and Liara take cover, firing from behind crates scattered across the room. Liara uses her biotics to fling a commando off balance, while Tali throws out tech powers, briefly overloading their shields.

Alexis moves quickly, charging into the midst of the chaos. She aims her shotgun, catching one of the commandos in the chest, the force of the shot slamming her into the wall. Another Asari lunges at her, and Alexis ducks beneath her strike, slamming the butt of her shotgun into the commando’s face. The Asari stumbles back, blood trickling from her nose.

Alexis fires again, point blank, and the Asari collapses, her body limp. Alexis barely has time to breathe before another commando is on her, throwing a punch that connects with her shoulder, the force knocking her sideways. Alexis rolls with the impact, coming back up with her shotgun raised. She squeezes the trigger, the blast catching the commando’s arm, spinning her around.

The fight is brutal, chaotic, and raw. Alexis can feel the burn in her muscles, the strain of every movement. She knows they can’t afford to lose—they have to get to Benezia. 

A flash of biotic energy catches her eye, and she turns to see Liara struggling against one of the commandos, the Asari pinning her down. Alexis moves without thinking, slamming into the commando with all her weight, the impact sending them both sprawling. She pins the commando to the ground, her fist coming down hard, knocking her unconscious.

Breathing heavily, Alexis looks around. Wrex is finishing off his opponent, his shotgun’s roar echoing through the chamber. Tali’s omni-tool flashes as she sends out an incinerate, catching the last commando in a burst of flame. The room falls silent, save for the heavy breathing of the squad.

Alexis looks up at the platform where Benezia stands, her biotic shield shimmering around her, untouched by the chaos below. The Matriarch gazes down at them, her expression unreadable. "Give it up, Benezia,” Alexis says, her voice hoarse. “It’s four against one.”

The Matriarch regards her coldly. “This is not over. Saren will fulfill his destiny. Everything is clear!” A thin smile plays on her lips. “And now, it’s one against one.”

The barrier dissipates, and before any of the others can react, Benezia gestures, locking Wrex, Tali, and Liara in stasis fields. Alexis barely has time to bring her rifle up before Benezia’s biotic wave hits her, sending her sprawling onto the platform. She crashes into the railing, the impact jarring her bones. The rifle clatters from her hands, and she rises, shaking her head, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Benezia advances, her fists a blur as she launches a series of punches. Alexis is no stranger to hand-to-hand combat—she's trained with some of the best the Alliance had to offer—but Benezia is on another level entirely. Her movements are graceful, controlled, her strikes landing with an almost impossible precision. Alexis barely manages to block most of the blows, her muscles screaming as she tries to counter.

Benezia’s eyes are fierce, and her attacks seem relentless. Each punch sends vibrations through Alexis's already battered body, and she knows that if she lets up for even a moment, it could be her last.

One of Benezia’s strikes cracks Alexis’s visor, the force rattling her vision. She ducks under the next punch, but her instincts tell her she’s running out of time. She needs to get through to Benezia. She has to break through whatever hold Saren has over her.

“Fight him, Benezia!” Alexis shouts between gritted teeth, barely dodging a blow aimed at her face. She grabs Benezia’s arm, shifting her weight to throw the Matriarch off balance. “You’re stronger than him!” For a brief second, confusion flickers in Benezia’s eyes, and Alexis takes the chance to slam her fist into the Asari’s cheek.

The Matriarch stumbles, a low growl escaping her lips as she steps back, gathering her biotic energy in a massive shockwave that hits Alexis square in the chest, flipping her backward. Alexis crashes onto the ground, her ribs aching with every breath.

Benezia clutches her head, her face contorted in pain as she fights against Saren’s influence. “You… must… listen…” she grits out, her voice filled with agony. “Saren… he still whispers in my mind… I can only hold it back for so long…”

Alexis forces herself to her feet, staring at the Matriarch in disbelief. “Saren’s controlling you?”

Benezia lets out a shuddering breath, her eyes haunted. “People are not themselves around Saren. He… makes you believe in him… in his mission.” Her voice trembles as she continues, “I thought I was strong enough to resist. But Sovereign… Saren’s ship… it twists your thoughts. Warps your will.” She gives a bitter laugh. “I wanted to temper his ambitions… to steer him to something good. Instead, I’ve become his puppet.”

Benezia locks eyes with Alexis, the desperation evident in her gaze. “He sent me here to find the Mu Relay. I managed to learn its location… but I sent it to him before you arrived.”

Alexis’s eyes widen. “The Mu Relay… where is it?”

“The Rachni… they knew… it was hidden… long ago.” Benezia takes a trembling step towards the railing overlooking the Queen’s containment unit. “They share memories across generations. I forced the information from this one.” Her voice breaks, her head bowing in shame. “I wasn’t gentle.”

Alexis’s gaze softens. “Can you give it to me?”

Benezia nods, pointing to a datapad on a nearby table. “The information… it’s there.” She collapses again, clutching her head. Her voice becomes faint, strained. “You must hurry… I transmitted it to Saren… he knows…”

“Mother!” Liara’s voice cracks as she rushes forward, stopping short at the sight of Benezia struggling against herself, her fingers digging into her temples as if trying to physically pull Saren’s influence out of her mind.

Benezia looks up at her daughter, her eyes filled with something resembling tenderness. “Liara… my little star… I have always been proud of you…” Tears stream down her cheeks as her lips quiver. “I’m sorry…”

Before anyone can react, Benezia pulls Liara’s pistol from its holster with her biotics, the gun snapping into her hand. She presses it to her temple, her eyes closing as she whispers one last apology.

The shot rings out, and Benezia’s body falls backward, the sound of her collapse echoing across the room. Purple blood pools beneath her, and for a moment, all is silent.

Liara stares, her arm still outstretched as if she could have stopped the inevitable. Slowly, shakily, she approaches her mother’s body, dropping to her knees. Tears fall freely as she reaches out, her hand trembling as she gently closes Benezia’s eyes. She keeps her hand there for a long moment, her chest heaving with sobs she refuses to let escape.

Finally, Liara stands, her eyes red but her expression set with determination. She picks up the datapad, holding it out to Shepard. “We should get going,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Liara… are you—” Shepard starts, her voice gentle.

Liara cuts her off, her gaze hardening as she shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about it, Shepard. Not now. I’ll be fine.” She swallows hard, forcing herself to meet Shepard’s eyes. “We need to stop Saren. That’s all that matters now.”

Shepard nods, accepting the datapad. She places a comforting hand on Liara's shoulder.

Wrex walks past Alexis, jerking his chin at the Rachni Queen’s containment. “What about that thing?”

Alexis moves to stand next to him, her eyes narrowing as she studies the towering Rachni, her brow furrowed in deep thought. “I don’t know.”

The Krogan growls, the low rumble echoing through the chamber. “We should kill it. My people don’t need another war to stop.”

Alexis's lips press into a thin line, the weight of his words settling on her shoulders. “And commit genocide again? I don’t know if I can do that, Wrex,” she responds, her voice softer, but filled with a mix of emotions. The thought of pressing a button to end an entire race fills her with dread. It isn’t just another enemy. It’s a species—a mother.

Wrex turns to her, his towering form imposing as he steps closer, his voice cutting. “And who’s gonna stop them this time, Shepard? You? The Systems Alliance? The Quarians?” He gestures to the Queen’s containment chamber, his eyes filled with bitterness. “My people have the Genophage because of these fucking bugs. There aren’t enough of us left to stop them again.”

Alexis’s jaw tightens, her heart pounding as she considers his words. “And this Queen? She wasn’t even alive during the war, Wrex. She doesn’t carry the sins of the past. How do we know she wants the same thing?”

“All Rachni want the same thing, Shepard,” Wrex snaps, his voice harsh with the memories of loss and betrayal. “It’s why we had to crush them into tiny little—”

“Uhh… guys?” Tali’s voice cuts through their rising argument, her tone tinged with urgency. Alexis turns sharply, seeing Tali’s visor directed at something in the shadows. Her posture is tense, her weapon ready.

Alexis and Wrex immediately draw their weapons, pointing them towards what Tali has seen. An Asari commando—one of Benezia's fallen guards—staggers up the stairs, her movement unnatural, as if some invisible strings are pulling her. Her head lolls back, her eyes vacant and hollow, as if her soul has already departed. She stumbles past Alexis and Wrex, her steps halting until she reaches the glass of the Rachni Queen’s cage. Suddenly, her head snaps up, her gaze focusing sharply on Alexis.

Alexis stares, confused, her eyes shifting past the Asari to the Rachni Queen, who has raised one of her antennae. The Queen is focusing directly on Alexis now, her presence powerful despite the glass between them. The Asari begins to speak, her voice strained, as if a thousand tones echo beneath the surface of her words.

“Do not be alarmed. This one… serves as our voice,” the Asari says, her words trembling, a strange undertone of dissonance echoing behind her speech. “We cannot sing. Not in these low spaces. Your musics are… colourless.”

Alexis glances at Wrex, bewildered, before looking back to the Asari. “Uh, what?”

The Asari’s chest heaves with a laboured breath, her body straining, but the Queen’s voice continues through her. “This vessel… is at the edge. Yet she struggles. You cannot see her magnificence. We are breathing on the embers.” The Asari’s body quivers, but her head remains still, her focus locked on Alexis. The Queen raises her head behind the glass. “We are the mother. We sing for those left behind. The children you thought silenced. We are Rachni.”

Alexis swallows, trying to quell the unease rising in her chest. “How are you speaking through the Asari?”

“Our kind sing through touchings of thought. We pluck the strings, and the other understands,” the Queen’s voice explains through the Asari, who seems weaker with every breath. “She is weak to urging.” The Asari’s breathing becomes more laboured, her entire body shakes. “She has colours we have no names for. But she is ending. Her music is bittersweet. It is… beautiful. The children we birthed were stolen from us before they could learn to sing. They are lost to silence. You ended their suffering. They could not be saved.”

Alexis’s heart clenches at the raw sadness in the Queen’s words. “Why were your children attacking everyone?”

The Asari’s expression shifts to one of fury, mirrored in the rigid stance of the Queen behind her. “These needle-men. They stole our eggs from us. They sought to turn our children into beasts of war. Claws with no songs of their own. Our elders are comfortable with silence… but children only know fear if no one sings to them. Fear shattered their minds.”

Alexis’s throat tightens, her voice filled with remorse. “Still, I’m sorry we had to kill them.”

“Do not be sorry. It was a kindness to them… and to us.” The Asari takes another rattling breath, each one harder than the last. “We stand before you. Alone. What will you sing? Will you release us? Are we to fade away once more?”

Alexis stares at the console in front of her, her finger trembling over the buttons. The choice is simple—release acid into the containment, end the Rachni here and now, prevent a future threat. But it's not that simple. It's genocide. A mother is asking for her life, for a chance to protect her children. Alexis knows all too well the power of fear. The fear that if she lets the Rachni go, she might be sentencing the galaxy to another war, one that no one is prepared for. And yet, the thought of killing this Queen—of silencing an entire species forever—weighs heavily on her conscience.

She can’t help but draw similarities with the Geth and the Quarians. They created the Geth, enslaved them, and when the Geth revolted, the Quarians lost everything. The Rachni and the Krogan had a similar fate—one species forced to deal with the sins of another. The Krogan were burdened with the war, then punished for their victory. The Genophage was forced upon them, turning them into a dying race. And here she stands, with the fate of an entire species in her hands, wondering if she’ll repeat the same mistakes others made—mistakes that shaped her own people’s fate.

Wrex’s voice cuts through her spiralling thoughts, blunt and final. “What’re you waiting for, Shepard? Kill it.” His tone carries the conviction of someone who’s lived through the consequences of mercy gone wrong, who has seen the cost firsthand.

Alexis glances at him, seeing the raw fear and anger in his eyes. She knows his pain, knows the sacrifice of the Krogan during the Rachni Wars, and the Genophage that came as a bitter reward. The Krogan had paid dearly for their role in ending the Rachni, and now Wrex faced the nightmare of those days returning. His entire race is at stake, and Alexis knows that he won’t see it any other way.

Tali’s voice breaks through, filled with the same uncertainty that grips Alexis. “I don’t know, Alexis… This Rachni hasn’t done anything wrong. We don’t know what she’ll do, but we might be able to save her.”

Liara steps forward, her gaze on the Queen. “We eradicated an entire race because we were afraid. This is a chance to right that wrong, Shepard. The Krogan did what they had to do, but maybe we went too far.”

Wrex turns his glare towards the others, his lips curling into a bitter line. “And what did we get for it, huh? Destroying the Rachni just got my people killed by the Genophage.” His voice is harsh, filled with years of pain. “We’re not going through that again, Shepard. If you do this, don’t expect the Krogan to help when the Rachni come back.”

Alexis clenches her teeth, torn by the weight of their arguments. Her eyes lock onto the Rachni Queen, the creature watching her silently, its massive form almost serene in its captivity. The Queen’s antennae twitch, and her voice returns, a hint of hope in her words. “Your companions hear the truth. You have the power to free us or return our people to the silence of memory.”

Alexis stares into the Rachni's eyes, her heart aching with indecision. The responsibility she bears is crushing. She remembers all she’s learned about the Krogan—their sacrifice, their punishment—and wonders if she has the right to gamble with everyone’s future. But the Queen is not the enemy here. The Queen is asking for mercy, for a chance. Who is she to deny them that?

She takes a deep breath, her hand still hovering over the console. “How can I be sure you won’t attack us again?” she asks, her voice tight, pleading almost. She needs to know that this is the right choice, that she isn't dooming countless innocents.

The Queen hesitates, the Asari’s eyes unfocused for a moment. “No!” The voice comes, sudden and desperate. “We… I do not know what happened in the war. We only heard discordance, songs the colour of oily shadows. We seek a hidden place to teach our children harmony. If they understand… perhaps we would return.”

Alexis’s heart aches, and she understands. This Queen is nothing like the monsters of legend, nothing like the horrors the galaxy remembers. She's just a mother trying to protect her children, just as anyone else would. The Quarians created the Geth, and when the Geth sought freedom, they responded with fear and paid the price. She can’t allow fear to dictate her actions again.

Alexis turns to Wrex, her voice cracking. “I can’t kill them, Wrex. I can’t be responsible for killing a species that had no choice, for actions that may have been forced on them. I have to believe there's a better way.”

Wrex’s expression is unreadable for a moment before his eyes narrow. He crosses his arms, sighing deeply. “Do what you want, Shepard. I’m not stopping you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. If this goes wrong, we’re on our own.”

Alexis faces the Queen once more, her heart pounding in her chest. She knows the weight of her choice will follow her for the rest of her life, a burden she will always carry. She swallows her fear and makes her decision. “I’m going to release you.”

The Rachni Queen, and the Asari she controls, both look at Alexis with surprise. “You will give us the chance to compose anew?” The Queen bows its head, antennae twitching. “We will remember. We will sing of your forgiveness to our children.” Alexis hesitates for a long moment, staring down at the console, then she finally opens the cage.

The containment begins to unlock, and the Rachni releases her hold over the Asari, who collapses, her body now lifeless. The Queen raises her head towards Alexis one final time. "Thank you, Alexis'Shepard," the echo of her name strange yet genuine in the broken voice.

Alexis only nods, her heart heavy with the enormity of her decision. As the Rachni Queen scuttles away, disappearing into the darkness, Alexis turns to Liara, her gaze softening as she glances at Benezia's lifeless form.

"Do you need time, Liara?" she asks quietly.

Liara swallows, her voice trembling slightly. "No... I'll arrange for her body to be returned to Thessia once we're back on the Normandy." She blinks back tears, her eyes pained. "Let's just get out of here."

Alexis places a gentle hand on Liara's shoulder, then turns to lead them away from the Matriarch’s body, towards whatever lay ahead. She could only hope she made the right decision, not just for herself, but for everyone whose fate she now held in her hands.

 

Chapter 8: VIII

Summary:

Medical attention, shared hoodies and being introduced to QuariMum. And Garrus being Garrus.

Notes:

So goodbye, slow burn...Yeah this is the chapter I was writing and my brain got fed up the slow burn.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

VIII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

The moment Alexis returns to the Normandy, Dr. Chakwas is already ushering her and Tali into the med-bay. Wrex and Liara are directed to the outer waiting area, since neither of them is at risk of infection or as affected by the acid burns as Alexis and Tali. They step into the cleanroom, the sterile, softly glowing lights casting a faint warmth over the cold, clinical environment.

Alexis carefully begins peeling off her armour, every movement pulling at her acid-burned skin. She winces, feeling each burn tug and scrape as she removes each piece. She can hear Tali beside her, working through her own discomfort in silence, though every now and then, a stifled sound escapes her. They avoid each other’s eyes at first, but there’s an unspoken solidarity in their careful, methodical movements, a shared vulnerability that goes beyond just the physical pain.

By the time they’re down to their undersuits, Alexis can feel the fatigue settling in, the soreness in her muscles amplified now that the immediate danger has passed. Chakwas steps into the cleanroom, fully suited and carrying a medkit.

“Alright, Tali, I need to examine your burns up close,” Chakwas says gently, her tone both professional and understanding. “I can set up a privacy screen to make you comfortable so you can remove your helmet.”

Tali hesitates, her gaze shifting to Alexis before she answers. The two of them share a brief, intense look. For a Quarian, removing one’s mask outside of close family or medical necessity is a rare, deeply personal act. But here, standing in front of Alexis, Tali finds herself trusting that intimacy and wanting to return the trust Alexis showed her by being comfortable with removing her helmet after Feros.

“It’s alright, Dr. Chakwas. I’m… comfortable as it is,” Tali murmurs, her voice soft but steady. She begins to unseal her helmet, the soft hiss of air escaping as her faceplate detaches. As it comes free, she lets her face be revealed, her bare skin faintly glowing in the med-bay’s lights.

Alexis feels her breath catch, momentarily entranced. Tali’s skin is a light shade of purple, faintly glowing under the med-bay lights. Her facial features are delicate, with a slightly feline shape and expressive, vertically slitted eyes that shift from dark purple to a bright, captivating blue. Dark tattoos sweep across her face in intricate patterns, a mark of her heritage. They arched down her cheeks, creating a subtle, elegant frame around her features. Her hair, short and close-cropped, framed her face in soft black waves that Alexis finds herself admiring. Tali seems impossibly vulnerable, yet in that vulnerability, she looks resolute and beautiful.

As Tali looks down at her hands, gathering the courage to meet Alexis’s gaze, Alexis can’t help but stare, struck by Tali’s quiet beauty. She’s seen battlefields, she’s seen the vast expanse of space, but nothing seems to compare to the woman sitting in front of her. Alexis feels a similar vulnerability, aware of her own face exposed, her red hair falling in loose waves around her face. When their eyes finally meet, green locked with blue, they exchange a soft, unspoken moment of mutual admiration, both blushing slightly before looking away. The blush serves to highlight Tali’s tattoos, which are similar to the spiralling markings that run along Alexis’s skin.

“Alright, Tali,” Chakwas says after a thorough examination. “You’ve sustained some burns, but nothing I can’t treat. I’ll need to apply medi-gel and possibly some regrowth gel on the deeper injuries. I’ll keep you overnight to monitor for any sign of infection, just to be safe.”

Tali nods, her voice soft but steady. “Of course. Thank you.”

As Chakwas turns to Alexis, she gives a faint smile. “Commander, you’ve got a few more burns than I’d like, along with a bruised rib. Same advice—rest here overnight. And if you’re tempted to ignore me, I think Tali here might help keep you in line,” she adds with a playful glance, out of Tali’s view.

Alexis blushes faintly, torn between protesting and conceding. “Fine. I’ll stay. If only to keep Tali company. Can you get my suit repair gear brought up,” she says, trying to sound casual but aware of how much comfort Tali’s presence brings her.

Chakwas nods, suppressing a smile, and asks, “Would you like anything from your quarters, Tali?”

“My suit repair kit, please,” Tali answers, her voice quiet.

As soon as the doors closed, Tali hesitates. She glances at Alexis, her eyes shy yet filled with an unspoken plea. “Would you… mind if I sat next to you?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

“Of course. Come here.” Alexis’s voice is warm and open, as she shifts on the med-bay bed to make room, the two of them going to remove their undersuits before sitting down.

They both hesitate, glancing at each other as they begin to remove their undersuits fully. For Quarians, such an act is deeply intimate, a rare exposure of their true selves. The feeling of leaving their suits behind, even temporarily, is both exhilarating and terrifying. Without the familiar, protective weight of armour, both women feel almost naked in more ways than one.

Alexis carefully pulls the top of her undersuit from her shoulders, allowing the fabric to slide down to her waist, leaving her in simple sports underwear that suddenly feels scandalously revealing. She glances at Tali, her cheeks tinged pink, half expecting her friend to look away, but Tali is focused, mirroring Alexis’s actions with a quiet, steady resolve. There’s an openness in Tali’s movements, a bravery that Alexis admires but also feels herself lacking in that moment. She had never imagined how vulnerable it would feel, exposing herself like this—not just physically, but emotionally.

Tali, too, feels the weight of the moment. Quarian culture has always revered the sanctity of the suit; to remove it, to let anyone see her as she truly is, is to share a part of herself she’s kept hidden for so long. But here, with Alexis, she feels a fragile, tentative courage. She steps out of her undersuit, now clad only in her underwear, her markings and tattoos laid bare. Each line and curve tells a story—of family, of heritage, of the journey that has shaped her. Without her suit, she is both exposed and free, the familiar weight of responsibility momentarily lifted.

They sit down beside each other, hesitant at first, but gradually, they each shift closer, until they’re shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, the warmth of Tali’s bare skin against Alexis’s a gentle reassurance. Without the suits separating them, every small movement feels amplified, every glance significant. Alexis can see the way Tali’s tattoos trail over her shoulders, winding delicately down her arms and across her collarbone. She traces the patterns with her gaze, her eyes lingering on the curves and lines that seem to tell a story of resilience and beauty.

Tali meets her eyes, a soft, uncertain smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “You know,” she begins quietly in Khelish, her voice almost a whisper, “I never imagined I’d feel so… unguarded. And yet, here we are.” Her fingers absently touch her bare wrist, almost instinctively reaching for armour that isn’t there. “It’s strange, but… it’s also nice.”

Alexis nods, her own voice softened, the usual Commander’s edge tempered by the intimacy of the moment. “I never thought I’d let anyone see me like this,” she admits, glancing down, feeling suddenly aware of her own exposed tattoos and scars. Her fingers brush absently over a small scar on her side, feeling self-conscious yet oddly comforted by Tali’s quiet acceptance. “But… with you, it feels different. Safer, somehow.”

They fall silent, simply sharing the stillness, each leaning gently into the other for support. Alexis can’t help but trace her gaze over the intricate patterns of Tali’s tattoos, her fingers itching to reach out, to feel the raised lines that hold so much history and meaning. In the dim light of the med-bay, Tali’s violet skin seems to glow, her tattoos telling a story of strength, survival, and resilience—a story that Alexis feels a deep connection to.

“Do you ever wonder,” Tali whispers, her voice barely audible, “if we’ll always have to wear the suits? If we’ll ever be able to… just be like this? With each other, or anyone?”

Alexis considers the question, a pang of longing rising in her chest. “I hope so. I want that for you—for both of us.” Her voice is soft, almost a confession. She reaches out, letting her hand rest on Tali’s bare arm, feeling the warmth of her skin against her own. “But I think, even if we always have to wear the suits, this… this is enough for me. Just knowing there’s someone I trust enough to share this with.”

Tali’s hand covers Alexis’s, their fingers intertwining in a gesture that feels both fragile and unbreakable. She looks at Alexis, her slitted eyes meeting her friend’s green gaze, and in that moment, there’s a shared understanding that goes beyond words.

They stay like that, holding each other’s hand, feeling the warmth of bare skin against bare skin, a rare and precious vulnerability. The sterile med-bay fades away as they focus on each other, the shared trust and intimacy between them grounding them both. After the ordeal of battle, the constant tension of their lives, and the barriers both emotional and physical they’d placed around themselves, this quiet moment feels like a sanctuary. It’s a moment neither of them will forget—a bond of trust, of unguarded closeness, a promise of something more in the midst of an uncertain world.

It's not long until Chakwas returns with the two suit repair kits for them, a knowing look thrown towards Alexis from under her helmet. Alexis feels her cheeks flush at the implication but doesn’t move away or release Tali’s hand. She can feel the warmth of Tali’s three fingers interlaced with her five—a comforting reminder that she’s not alone in this moment, despite everything.

“Right then, here you two go. So, at least an overnight stay for both of you, possibly 24 hours depending on the burns’ reaction. Had to dig through some old Council reports for treating Rachni injuries, but you should be fine,” Chakwas says, setting the kits on the tables beside their armours. “Oh, and Pressley told me to tell you that Admiral Hackett is on the line. He tried to explain that you were injured, but apparently, it was urgent enough that the Admiral insisted on speaking directly to you.”

Alexis raises an eyebrow. “That’s unusual… even if I wasn’t a Spectre, that’s unusual.” She gives Tali’s hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, a reluctant motion that doesn’t go unnoticed. She reaches for one of the two N7 hoodies Chakwas has brought, pausing to look between them and the doctor.

“I knew where you kept your spare hoodies for lounging around,” Chakwas explains, smiling, her eyes glinting with amusement. “And it’ll be a few hours, at least, until I’m happy with either of you putting an undersuit back on. I didn’t know if Tali had any loose clothing of her own on the ship.”

Alexis glances at Tali and then the other hoodie, nodding slowly. “That makes sense. Feel free to make use of it, Tali,” she says, trying to sound casual as she turns to the comms console, hoping to hide the warmth creeping up her neck at the thought of Tali wearing her hoodie.

“Thank you, Alexis,” Tali says softly, leaning over to pick up the hoodie, pulling it on and leaving it unzipped. It’s slightly long on her due to Alexis being a few inches taller, and the sight makes something in Alexis’s chest tighten in a way she’s not quite ready to acknowledge.

“Right, I’ll leave you two to it,” Chakwas says, gathering her things before pausing at the door. “Oh, and Alexis? You should call Mari while you’re making calls. She mentioned in our last catch-up that it’s been a while.”

Alexis grimaces, guilt gnawing at her. It has been too long since she last spoke to her mum. The last time it had been so long between calls was just before Akuze, which she tried to make up for by taking leave to visit in person, even if it had ended in the Blitz. She’d always felt she owed her mum an apology for the worry she must have felt during those times.

Taking a steadying breath, she accepts the incoming call. “Admiral Hackett,” she greets, snapping off a sharp, if slightly nervous, salute. This is the first time she’s been contacted by an admiral directly. Normally, such communication would come through intermediaries, and the directness of it leaves her uneasy, especially without her helmet. She feels exposed in more ways than one.

“At ease, Commander,” Hackett says. Alexis relaxes her posture slightly, her hands still fidgeting in her lap. “I’ll apologise upfront—I wasn’t aware the injuries required you to remove your suit. But this can’t wait. I know you have your own mission, but I need your help with a matter of some importance.”

Alexis almost stammers, but manages to regain her composure. “Of course, Admiral. Anything you need.”

Hackett’s tone is grave. “There’s an Alliance training ground where we test weapons and technology in live-fire simulations. One of the VIs we use to simulate enemy tactics in drills is no longer responding to override commands. Simply put, it’s gone rogue.”

Alexis’s heart sinks. A rogue VI? Now? With the Geth out there, with everything they’re facing? “Has anyone been injured by it, sir?” she asks, unable to hold back the question.

Hackett’s silence stretches for a moment. “Unfortunately, yes. The VI killed an entire squad of Alliance soldiers. It turned on them, using every weapon at its disposal, gunning them down in seconds.”

She swallows hard, her jaw tightening. “Sorry to hear that, sir.” A pause, and then, “Why me, sir? Couldn’t you destroy it from orbit?”

“Were it anywhere else, we would. But the training ground is on the Moon.” Hackett waits for her reaction—he knows this changes everything from a human perspective. “You can see my predicament. And as to why I called you specifically… you’re both close enough to Alliance command to act without raising suspicion, yet distant enough to operate without the bureaucracy. Plus, you’re the closest we have to an expert at fighting enemies like this.”

Alexis’s suspicion deepens. “Excuse the insubordination, Admiral, but… I’m guessing this isn’t entirely above board?”

Hackett sighs, a heavy, tired sound. “It is… officially. But given the VI’s refusal to obey, we need to handle this quietly. The last thing we need is for the Alliance to be accused of attempting to create an AI.”

Alexis’s stomach twists, her thoughts immediately going to the Geth. She knows all too well what happens when a people lose control of what they’ve created. She’s heard the stories from her mother, the way the Geth uprising tore the Quarian world apart. And now, the Alliance is dabbling in something dangerously similar? In orbit of their world.

“Of course, sir,” she finally manages. “I’ll set course for the Sol System immediately.”

“Thank you, Commander. Hackett, out.”

As the screen blinks off, Alexis sits in silence. Her fingers drum against the table, her heart pounding in frustration and disbelief. What are they thinking? Experimenting with weaponised VI while the galaxy faces the Geth threat—the very AI that had brought devastation upon the Quarians, a devastation her own people have still not recovered from. She feels a cold anger settle in her chest, an anger at the blindness, the arrogance. Had the lessons of the past meant nothing?

She remembers her mother’s stories vividly—the hope the Quarians had for the Geth, how they’d been meant to be partners, allies, only for it all to come crashing down. The pain of losing everything to their own creation. And now, she’s being asked to go to Luna to stop an experiment that seems to be hurtling down the same disastrous path. Alexis feels an ache in her chest, the weight of her heritage pressing heavily against the expectations of her Alliance role.

“A rogue VI...” Tali’s voice pulls her back from her thoughts. The Quarian steps closer, her hand resting gently on Alexis’s shoulder.

“So it seems,” Alexis says, her voice tight. “I understand why they’re doing it, but it’s like they’re blind to the risks. We’re already fighting the Geth—how can they think this is a good idea?” She leans into Tali’s touch, the warmth and weight of her hand a small comfort against the storm of emotions inside her. When she looks up, her breath catches at the sight of Tali in her N7 hoodie, one shoulder exposed. It’s such a simple thing, but it stirs something deep in her chest, something that pulls her back to the present.

“I know the Fleet wants to understand the Geth, but this…” Tali shakes her head, her thumb brushing soothingly along Alexis’s shoulder. “It feels like they’re walking straight into the same mistakes. Without caution, without learning.”

“Exactly.” Alexis nods, the anger in her chest slowly simmering down as she takes a steadying breath. She reaches up, covering Tali’s hand with her own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “But we’ll handle it. Just like we’ve handled everything else so far.”

Tali smiles, a sad but understanding look in her eyes. “Just be careful, Alexis. The Geth were made with the best intentions, and we all know where that led.”

“I will,” Alexis promises, a determined edge in her voice. She turns to activate her comms. “Joker, set course for Luna.”

“Okay...” Joker’s voice comes through, laced with confusion. “Wait, what?”

Alexis can’t help but smile, despite everything. “Luna, Sol System. Hackett’s orders.”

“That’s what I thought you said,” Joker says, the Normandy’s engines beginning to hum as they engage. “Not gonna tell me why, are you?”

“No, no, I don’t think I will,” Alexis replies with a soft laugh, closing the channel and sending a quick message to Pressley to brief him on the mission, including the rogue VI.

She sits back, feeling Tali’s steady gaze on her. Despite the uncertainty, the frustration, the anger—there’s still a sense of warmth that fills the room. A small moment of solidarity in the face of yet another crisis, something that reminds Alexis she’s not in this alone. She reaches for Tali’s hand again, giving it a light squeeze, her eyes meeting Tali’s as she whispers, “We’ll get through this. Together.”

The two stay like that for a moment before Alexis turns back to the console, "Here we go then. I really should have called earlier," she grumbles to herself.

Tali pats Alexis's shoulder with a smile. "My aunt is the same when I don't at least send a message back," she says, starting to step away before Alexis reaches out and takes hold of her hand.

"You can stay if you want. I'd like to introduce you, if that's okay," Alexis says, her voice softening. "Plus, wanting to keep you company was part of the reason I agreed to stay here. Can't do that if I'm busy talking without you." Her cheeks flush slightly, the warmth rising as she realises how significant this moment feels—introducing Tali to her mum. There aren't many people she'd introduced to Mari, and Tali's presence here now feels... different, special.

Tali's smile brightens, revealing her sharp, fang-like teeth. "I would like that," she says, zipping up the N7 hoodie she wears as she slides into the single-person seat beside Alexis, her legs hooking around Alexis's and an arm wrapping around her shoulders. She ends up practically in Alexis's lap, her closeness creating a warmth between them that Alexis can't help but revel in.

Alexis fights to keep her blush under control as she adjusts her arm around Tali's waist, her fingers brushing against the fabric of the hoodie. She taps the contact for Mari'Saalas. The call rings a few times before the screen blinks to life, showing an older Quarian woman. Her suit is adorned with dark red fabrics, decorated in a way Tali immediately recognises as almost identical to the way Alexis has personalised her own armour—familiar patterns, marks of the heritage shared between mother and daughter.

"Lexi! Finally calling me," Mari says with a teasing lilt to her voice, her smile visible through her visor. "I just saw the message from Karin saying you were in the clean room for a day."

"Sorry, Mum," Alexis says softly, running a hand through her red hair, the guilt evident in her voice. "Yeah, a few suit breaches. Dr. Chakwas is just being careful."

"A few suit breaches! It was melting off you!" Tali suddenly exclaims, her panic returning at the memory of seeing the acid hit Alexis. She can still feel the fear from that moment—the helplessness—and her voice cracks slightly as she recalls it.

Alexis winces, her apology muffled under Mari's soft laugh. "You must be Tali'Zorah then," Mari says kindly. "Karin mentioned you had another Quarian onboard. I'm Mari'Saalas. I hope Lexi isn't causing you too much trouble. Though, I imagine she isn't if you're wearing her hoodie," she adds, her teasing note unmistakable.

Both Alexis and Tali blush deeply, but neither makes a move to separate. "It's not like that, Mum. We're just friends," Alexis says, trying to explain as her face heats up further. "Chakwas knew where my loose clothing was, so she grabbed the hoodies."

"Exactly, it's as Alexis says," Tali chimes in, her voice filled with warmth. She turns to Alexis with a playful glint in her eyes. "She only causes me trouble when she keeps headbutting Krogans or fighting them hand to hand."

Mari chuckles, her eyes crinkling with affection. "Oh, I might have to take some responsibility for that. Little Lexi always loved my rather adventurous Pilgrimage stories, and yes, I might have headbutted a Krogan or two myself. Then, of course, I taught Lexi how to fight." Her voice carries an unmistakable pride.

Tali lets out a good-natured sigh before looking back at Alexis, her gaze softening. "So you're the reason she is the way she is," she says, her tone affectionate. "But don't think I'd ever want to change that."

Alexis meets Tali's eyes, and for a moment, it's as if the world around them fades. There's an unspoken connection between them—an understanding, a growing feeling that neither of them can deny. Alexis feels her heart swell, her chest tightening with an emotion that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. She’s never felt like this before, and it scares her, but in the best possible way.

Suddenly, she remembers her mother is still on the call, her gaze snapping forward just in time to catch the knowing look Mari is sporting. "I'm sorry I didn't call earlier," Alexis starts, trying to regain her composure, "It's been really hectic, but that's no excuse."

Mari cuts her off gently. "Darling, you don't need to apologise for living your life and doing important work. I always knew when you left home—whether the Migrant Fleet had taken you or you joined the Alliance—that calls wouldn't always be regular. I just ask that you try," she says, her voice filled with warmth and understanding.

Alexis nods softly, her eyes glistening with emotion. "Okay, Mum. I love you," she says sincerely. "Now, I'm sure the news has told you plenty about what I'm doing, but I want to hear about you. What have you been up to?"

Mari's smile widens, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh yes, the news has had a field day. Your Spectre induction is still a big deal in the Quarian quarter. And Rosin'Xeer is still bragging about how you worked at his bar for a while," she adds with a chuckle. "You know, he says you were the best bartender and repair girl he ever had." She grins at the memory of Alexis working behind the bar, cooking, and fixing anything that needed fixing.

Alexis laughs, shaking her head. "He always was a bit of an exaggerator," she says, her smile softening as the memories come back.

"As for me," Mari continues, "I've been helping out around the Citadel again. Got an engineering contract, so I'll be here for a while. If you ever stop by, we can meet up properly."

"I'll try, Mum. I'll see how the missions go," Alexis says, her voice filled with determination. They continue to chat, catching up on the small, mundane things that are so precious. Mari tells embarrassing stories from Alexis's past—stories that have Tali laughing so hard her eyes glisten, making Alexis groan and blush in equal measure. But despite her embarrassment, there's a warmth in her chest, a happiness she hasn’t felt in a while. It feels like home, like love.

At some point during the conversation, Tali ends up fully in Alexis's lap, her body nestled comfortably against Alexis's, who has her arm wrapped protectively around Tali's waist. Tali rests her head on Alexis's shoulder, her laughter fading into a contented smile as Mari continues to talk, her voice a soothing presence, a reminder of home and warmth even across the vastness of space.

Alexis tightens her hold around Tali, feeling her warmth seep into her own skin, the steady rise and fall of Tali's breathing syncing with her own. It's a simple moment—just a conversation with her mother, the woman who raised her, and someone she cares deeply about in her arms—but to Alexis, it feels profound. A sense of connection that runs deeper than the words being exchanged.

Mari’s voice is soft, filled with love and amusement as she recounts another story from Alexis's childhood, but Alexis can barely focus on the words. Instead, she’s focused on the present—the solid weight of Tali against her, the way Tali's fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on Alexis's forearm. It’s an intimacy Alexis hadn’t realised she needed until now, a closeness she’s longed for but never fully allowed herself to imagine.

She can feel her heart swell as she looks at Tali, her head nestled perfectly in the crook of her neck, her violet eyes half-closed and her lips still carrying the echo of her earlier laughter. Alexis knows that the feeling in her chest is more than just camaraderie, more than friendship. It’s something deeper, something that scares her a little with how much she wants it. And yet, in this moment, with Mari's warm laughter on the other end of the line and Tali safe and close, she thinks she could face that fear.

Mari pauses, her voice tinged with gentle humour. “Lexi, are you even listening, or are you too distracted by the girl in your lap?”

Alexis blinks, her cheeks flushing as she meets her mother’s amused gaze on the screen. “Sorry, Mum,” she murmurs, her voice a mix of embarrassment and fondness. She glances down at Tali, who’s now looking up at her with a knowing smile, her sharp teeth just barely peeking out.

“No need to apologise, darling,” Mari says, her tone softening. “I’m just glad you’ve found someone who makes you feel at home. It’s good to see you like this, Lexi.”

Alexis swallows, feeling her throat tighten. She nods, her eyes meeting her mother’s, and for a moment, words escape her. She looks back down at Tali, who shifts slightly in her lap, her fingers brushing over Alexis’s cheek in a tender, unspoken gesture.

“It’s… it’s nice,” Alexis finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Having someone here. Someone who gets it.” She knows her words don’t fully encompass what she feels, but she hopes her mother understands.

Tali’s eyes soften, and she shifts closer, her arm tightening around Alexis’s shoulders as she nuzzles gently against her. “Keelah Se’lai,” she murmurs, the Quarian blessing filled with a depth of meaning that doesn’t need translation. It’s a promise, a comfort, a quiet declaration of what they mean to each other.

Mari smiles, her gaze softening. “I’m proud of you, Lexi. For everything you’ve done, but also for letting yourself have this.”

Alexis feels her eyes sting, and she blinks rapidly, her free hand moving to cover Tali’s where it rests on her waist. “Thanks, Mum,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I love you.”

“And I love you too, darling,” Mari replies, her smile warm and full of understanding. “Take care of each other, alright?”

Alexis nods, glancing down at Tali, who’s watching her with a tender expression that makes her heart ache in the best way. “We will,” she promises, her voice steady. “We’ll take care of each other.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of her mother’s voice and the comfort of Tali’s embrace, Alexis knows that, no matter what lies ahead, she has something worth fighting for.

As the call begins to wind down, Mari looks at them with a smile. "Lexi, don’t wait so long next time. I want to hear all about your adventures—both of yours," she adds with a wink.

"I promise, Mum," Alexis says, her voice thick with emotion. "I love you."

"I love you too, Lexi," Mari replies before the call ends, the screen going dark.

For a moment, the room is silent. Alexis lets out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding, her gaze still lingering on the now-black screen. The connection, the sense of family, leaves a warmth in her chest that battles the lingering weight of the day's stress. She turns her head slightly, and her eyes find Tali’s, filled with an understanding that runs deeper than words.

Slowly, Alexis lowers her forehead until it rests gently against Tali's. Her eyes close, and she allows herself to simply be, feeling the closeness of the Quarian who’s become her constant source of strength. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely audible, almost swallowed by the quiet of the med-bay. "For staying. For… everything."

Tali’s breath hitches, her heart pounding with an intensity she knows Alexis can probably feel. She smiles, her eyes half-lidded as she leans into the touch, her voice just as soft. "Always, Alexis."

Alexis feels her heart swell, warmth flooding her entire being. She shifts slightly, her arm wrapping more securely around Tali’s waist, feeling the Quarian’s body relax fully into hers. She lets her eyes drift closed, the worries of the mission, the weight of responsibility, all fading into the background as she focuses on the one thing that feels right in this moment.

They stay like that for a while—foreheads touching, breaths mingling, the silence between them filled with a thousand unspoken words. Tali's fingers lightly trace along Alexis's arm, each touch sending a gentle shiver down Alexis's spine. It’s such a simple moment—a conversation with her mother, the presence of someone she cares about nestled in her arms—but it’s everything she could have asked for. A reminder of the life she’s fighting to protect, of the people she loves, and of the growing feelings she’s not quite ready to name.

Tali shifts slightly, her eyes opening to meet Alexis’s, their faces so close that Alexis can see the faint glow of Tali’s bioluminescent freckles. Tali smiles, her voice barely more than a breath. "We’re in this together, you know. Whatever comes next."

Alexis nods, her forehead still resting against Tali’s, her heart feeling like it’s overflowing. "Together," she echoes, her voice rough with emotion. She knows there’s so much more she wants to say—so much more she feels—but for now, this is enough.

Alexis and Tali linger in the warmth of each other’s presence for a moment longer, neither one in a rush to break the closeness that had formed. The warmth between them feels almost sacred, a reprieve from the chaos that defines their lives. Eventually, though, Alexis clears her throat softly, her voice still a bit raw from the emotions stirred by speaking to her mother.

“We should probably get started on repairing our suits. Chakwas won’t be thrilled if we try putting them on without patching them up first,” she says, a hint of reluctance in her tone as she loosens her hold on Tali. The idea of letting go, even for a moment, feels harder than it should.

Tali nods, her cheek brushing against Alexis’s shoulder before she straightens up, her fingers lingering on Alexis’s arm as she shifts to sit beside her. The touch is brief but filled with meaning—an unspoken connection neither wants to sever. “You’re right,” she agrees softly, her voice laced with warmth. “But, you know, it’s easier to do together. Quicker, too,” she adds with a small smile, her eyes locking with Alexis’s, a silent invitation hanging in the air.

Alexis nods, her gaze holding Tali’s for a beat longer than she intends before she clears her throat again. “I’d like that,” she says, the words simple but carrying an undertone of deeper emotions. The two of them slowly stand up, their bodies briefly brushing against one another, the warmth lingering between them. They move over to the table with their undersuits and armour on it, reaching over to pull their suit repair kits closer. The soft clinking sounds of equipment fill the room as they begin unpacking the tools and materials, a sense of purpose settling between them.

Repairing a Quarian’s suit is a deeply personal affair, one that usually signifies a bond of trust. It means allowing someone into your space, to see the vulnerabilities of the suit that protects you. For Alexis, who has always cherished her Quarian upbringing, it’s a gesture that carries a great deal of weight. And sharing this with Tali feels both natural and significant—an unspoken promise that they are here for each other, even in the smallest of ways. It’s an intimacy that goes beyond words, an unspoken affirmation of the connection that has grown between them.

Tali begins by carefully examining the acid burns on Alexis’s undersuit, her hands moving with gentle precision, her fingertips brushing against the edges of the damaged material. Her touch is light, almost reverent. “These burns… they really did a number on it,” she murmurs, her eyes flicking up to meet Alexis’s, concern evident in their depths. Her voice carries a tenderness that Alexis finds herself drawn to, a gentle reminder of just how much Tali cares.

Alexis offers a small smile, a touch of reassurance. “I’ve had worse,” she says, though her voice is softer than usual, almost as if she’s trying to convince herself as much as Tali. She can feel Tali’s worry, the intensity of her gaze, and it’s both touching and a little overwhelming. She wants to take that worry away, to reassure Tali that she’s fine, but she knows that the concern is born out of love. While she starts work on a different part of the undersuit, both of them decide the armour will require a lot more work than they can do here.

“Still,” Tali replies, her brow furrowing slightly, “you should be more careful. I don’t know what I’d do if…” She trails off, her gaze falling back to the suit as she busies herself with preparing the bonding gel, her voice trembling slightly. The thought of losing Alexis is something she can’t bear, and it shows in the way her hands hesitate, her fingers trembling just slightly as she works.

Alexis watches her, her heart giving a small, painful twist. The vulnerability in Tali’s voice cuts through her, and she feels the weight of her own recklessness. She realises, in this moment, just how much she means to Tali, and it’s both humbling and terrifying. “Hey,” she says gently, reaching out to cover Tali’s hand with her own, stilling her movements. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Her voice is firm, carrying the weight of a vow she intends to keep.

Tali looks up, her eyes glistening slightly as she nods, her lips curving into a soft, grateful smile. “Good. Because I’m holding you to that promise,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, the depth of her emotions evident in her gaze. The fear in her eyes slowly gives way to relief, the tension in her shoulders easing as she leans into Alexis’s touch.

The two share a quiet moment before they return to their work, their movements in sync as they begin the delicate process of repairing Alexis’s undersuit. Tali works with practised ease, her hands moving deftly as she applies the bonding gel to the torn edges, carefully sealing the material back together. Alexis watches her, the gentle focus in Tali’s eyes, the way her lips purse slightly as she concentrates—it’s all so endearing, so uniquely Tali. She can’t help but feel a swell of affection, her heart aching with the realisation of just how much she cares for Tali.

The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sounds of their work. Alexis feels a sense of calm wash over her, the repetitive motions of the repair almost meditative. Tali’s presence, her gentle touch, the way her fingers move with such care—it all fills Alexis with a warmth she hadn’t realised she needed. It’s as if, in this moment, all the chaos of their lives has been put on hold, leaving just the two of them, together. There’s a quiet beauty in the simplicity of it, a sense of belonging that Alexis hasn’t felt in a long time.

As they work, the space between them seems to shrink, the closeness of their bodies and the intimacy of the act drawing them together. It’s a quiet, gentle kind of intimacy—one that speaks of trust, of care, of something that’s growing between them, something that neither of them is quite ready to put into words but both feel deeply. Alexis finds herself leaning closer to Tali, her eyes drawn to the way the Quarian’s fingers move, the delicate precision of her work, the softness in her gaze. She’s struck by how beautiful Tali is, how much she means to her.

Once they finish with Alexis’s undersuit, they switch places, with Alexis turning her attention to Tali’s suit. She feels a sense of reverence as she handles the fabric, knowing just how important it is to Tali—to any Quarian. Her fingers move carefully, tracing the burns and tears, her brow furrowing as she assesses the damage. Tali sits still, her gaze fixed on Alexis, watching her with an expression that’s a mix of trust and something else—something deeper, something unspoken. It’s a look that makes Alexis’s heart skip a beat, the intensity of it almost too much to bear.

“This one’s a bit tricky,” Alexis murmurs, her fingers brushing against where a particularly deep burn has left a jagged tear. “But I’ll make sure it’s good as new.” Her voice is filled with determination, a promise to take care of Tali, to protect her in any way she can.

Tali smiles, her eyes softening. “I know you will,” she says, her voice filled with warmth. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against Alexis’s arm for a brief moment, a silent thank you. Her touch lingers, and Alexis feels her heart skip a beat, the closeness between them palpable. It’s a touch that speaks of trust, of affection, of something that’s growing between them, something that neither of them is quite ready to name.

Alexis takes her time with each repair, her hands moving slowly, carefully. She can feel Tali’s eyes on her, and every now and then, their gazes meet, a silent exchange passing between them. There’s a softness in Tali’s eyes, a warmth that makes Alexis’s chest tighten, her heart pounding just a little bit faster. She finds herself wanting to draw this moment out, to hold onto the closeness for as long as possible, to savour the feeling of Tali’s presence beside her.

When Alexis finishes sealing the last tear, she looks up, her eyes meeting Tali’s. “All done,” she says softly, her voice carrying a note of tenderness. The words are simple, but the emotion behind them is anything but.

Tali nods, her eyes never leaving Alexis’s. “Thank you,” she says, her voice just as soft. There’s a moment of silence, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Tali reaches out, her fingers brushing against Alexis’s hand, and Alexis turns her palm up, their fingers intertwining once more. The touch is gentle, but it carries the weight of everything they feel for each other, everything they can’t quite say.

Tali’s smile is soft, her eyes glistening as she leans closer, her forehead resting gently against Alexis’s. Alexis feels her heart swell, her chest tightening with the weight of everything she wants to say but can’t quite find the words for. Instead, she closes her eyes, her forehead still pressed against Tali’s, her breath mingling with Tali’s in the small space between them. She can feel the warmth of Tali’s skin, the steady rhythm of her breathing, and it grounds her, calms her in a way nothing else can. It’s a feeling of safety, of belonging, of being exactly where she’s meant to be.

For a long moment, they stay like that, the world outside fading away, leaving just the two of them in this quiet, intimate bubble. Alexis’s hand tightens around Tali’s, her thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. Tali leans in, her lips brushing lightly against Alexis’s cheek, a feather-light touch that sends a shiver down Alexis’s spine. The touch is fleeting, but it leaves a warmth in its wake, a reminder of just how much Tali means to her.

Alexis opens her eyes, her gaze meeting Tali’s, her heart pounding in her chest. There’s something there, something unspoken but so clear in the way Tali looks at her, the way her eyes soften, her lips curving into a small, tender smile. Alexis finds herself smiling back, her chest swelling with warmth, with affection, with something deeper. It’s a feeling that scares her, but it’s also one she doesn’t want to let go of.

“Come on,” Alexis says softly, her voice a little shaky as she pulls back just enough to look at Tali fully. “We should probably pack up the kits,” she says, trying to lighten the intensity of the moment, though her eyes betray the depth of her emotions. She doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want to lose the closeness they’ve found, but she knows they can’t stay like this forever.

Tali's own smile grows as she nods. “You’re probably right,” she says, her fingers giving Alexis’s hand a gentle squeeze before she slowly pulls away, the loss of contact almost palpable. It’s as if a part of her is missing, the warmth of Tali’s touch leaving a void that Alexis can feel deep in her chest.

They both stand, moving to put away the repair kits, their movements unhurried, almost reluctant. Alexis glances at Tali out of the corner of her eye, her heart still pounding, her mind replaying the feel of Tali in her arms, the warmth of her touch, the soft press of her forehead against hers. She feels a sense of longing, a desire to hold onto this moment, to keep Tali close.

Once their repair kits are all packed away, they both return to sitting on Alexis's medical bed, leaning into each other, letting the feelings of the day fade away in the comfort of the other's presence. Their bare legs press into each other, Alexis's pale skin contrasting against Tali's purple skin, yet somehow the tattoos that mark their bodies seem to match, like two parts of a story coming together. The intricate, swirling patterns on Tali’s skin align in a strangely beautiful way with Alexis’s, like their bodies were meant to fit together. It’s a realisation that fills both of them with a mixture of warmth and fear—how, in such a short time, had they become so connected?

The two of them lie back on the bed, Tali nestling herself against Alexis's side, with Alexis’s arm wrapped securely around her. Tali rests her head on Alexis’s shoulder, her fingers tracing small patterns on Alexis’s arm, letting her touch linger on the inked lines that decorate Alexis’s skin. The closeness is comforting, a reminder that they’re not alone, that they have each other—something more valuable than either could put into words. The sensation of Tali’s fingertips against her skin sends a shiver through Alexis, a reminder of just how much Tali has come to mean to her. There’s a softness here, an unspoken understanding, that brings tears to Alexis’s eyes if she thinks too much about it.

The quiet moments that follow are filled with a sense of peace and belonging that neither of them has felt in a long time. Alexis tightens her arm around Tali, her fingers brushing gently against her back underneath the hoodie, feeling the warmth of her skin and the reassurance it brings. She lets out a soft sigh, her eyes closing as she rests her cheek against the top of Tali’s head, breathing in the comforting scent of her. It’s a scent that’s uniquely Tali, a mix of something metallic and something soft and warm, and it fills Alexis with a sense of home—a sense that here, in this moment, she is exactly where she belongs.

Tali shifts slightly, her body curling even closer into Alexis, her free hand resting gently on Alexis’s chest, right over her heart. She can feel the steady rhythm beneath her palm, and it brings her a sense of calm, a reassurance that Alexis is here, with her, safe and sound. Tali’s tattoos, dark and intricate, stand out against her purple skin, and Alexis’s eyes follow their curves, the way they flow down Tali’s arm, a symbol of her heritage and her strength. It’s so beautiful, and Alexis feels a pang in her chest—a realisation of just how much she cares for Tali, how much she needs her, and it scares her. “You really scared me today,” Tali whispers, her voice barely audible, her fingers tightening slightly on Alexis’s arm. The fear she felt, the panic of seeing Alexis hurt, is still fresh in her mind, and she can’t help the tears that prick at her eyes.

Alexis feels the tightness in her chest at Tali’s words, a pang of guilt and protectiveness swelling within her. She presses her lips to the top of Tali’s head, her voice soft as she replies, “I know. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be more careful.” She pauses, her fingers brushing against Tali’s back in gentle circles, hoping to soothe her. “I don’t want to scare you like that again.” The thought of causing Tali pain, of making her worry, is almost unbearable, and Alexis knows she has to do better, for Tali’s sake. For both of their sakes. Alexis knows she can’t keep making reckless choices, not now that she has someone who needs her—someone who she realises she loves.

Tali lifts her head slightly, her eyes meeting Alexis’s, her gaze filled with emotion—vulnerability, fear, but also love and trust. “Just… don’t forget that you’re not alone,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “You have people who care about you. Who need you.” The words are spoken softly, but they carry a weight that Alexis can feel deep in her chest. It’s a reminder that she’s not just fighting for herself, that there are people who care for her, who need her to come back to them. And Tali is at the centre of that. The look in Tali’s eyes—the quiet, desperate love there—is enough to make Alexis’s breath catch.

Alexis swallows hard, her throat tightening as she nods. “I know. And I won’t forget,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. She reaches up, her fingers brushing against Tali’s cheek, her thumb tracing the edge of her jaw. “And I need you too. More than I can even say.” The words are simple, but they carry the weight of everything she feels, everything she’s too scared to fully admit. But in this moment, with Tali here, she finds the courage to be honest. The thought of losing Tali, of not being able to see her smile or hear her voice, is something that terrifies Alexis more than anything else.

Tali’s eyes glisten, her lips curving into a soft, tender smile as she leans in, her forehead pressing against Alexis’s once more. “Then we’ll keep each other safe. Together,” she whispers, her breath mingling with Alexis’s. The promise is unspoken but clear—whatever comes next, they’ll face it side by side, and that thought alone brings a sense of comfort and strength. She can’t put it into words, not yet, but the feeling is there—the love, the absolute certainty that whatever the future holds, she wants to share it with Alexis.

“Together,” Alexis echoes, her voice barely audible as she closes her eyes, her heart swelling with the depth of her feelings. In this moment, with Tali in her arms, the world feels right. It feels like, no matter what comes next, they’ll face it together. And that’s all that matters.

The two of them stay like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the quiet of the med-bay surrounding them as they hold onto the peace they’ve found in each other. The future is uncertain, but here, now, they have each other. And that is more than enough. The weight of the day's challenges and battles fades, replaced by the warmth of Tali’s body against hers, the gentle press of Tali’s fingers against her arm, the feeling that they are two halves of a whole.

As the minutes pass, they both begin to relax further, the exhaustion from the day's events settling into their bones. Alexis can feel Tali's breathing even out, her body growing heavier against her side. She tilts her head slightly, her eyes drifting down to watch Tali, the sight filling her with an overwhelming tenderness. She brushes her lips against Tali's forehead, her hand tracing soothing patterns across her back, her touch lingering as if to reassure them both that they are safe. The inked lines on their skin—symbols of their heritage, of their pasts—seem to blend together in the dim light, and Alexis can’t help but think of how natural it feels to hold Tali like this.

Their limbs are entwined, Alexis's leg hooked over Tali’s, their bodies fitting together in a way that feels so perfect, so right, that it almost takes Alexis’s breath away. Tali’s fingers trace the tattoos on Alexis’s arm, the swirling patterns that seem to tell a story only they can understand. It’s an intimate gesture, one that speaks of trust, of affection, of the connection they share. Alexis’s heart swells with emotion, her chest tightening as she realises just how deeply she’s come to care for Tali, how much she’s come to love her in such a short time.

"Get some rest," Alexis whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking any louder might shatter the fragile tranquillity of the moment. She knows how much Tali means to her, how much she wants to protect her, to be there for her. The thought of risking this, of risking Tali, feels unbearable, and Alexis knows she will do everything she can to keep them both safe.

Tali makes a soft noise in response, her eyes fluttering shut as she nestles deeper into Alexis's side. Her fingers tighten slightly on Alexis's arm, as if even in sleep, she wants to hold onto her, to keep her close. Alexis smiles, her own eyes growing heavy as she continues to hold Tali, the warmth of her body, the steady rhythm of her breathing lulling her into a sense of peace.

Slowly, Alexis lets herself relax, her own eyes closing as she allows herself to drift. For once, there are no worries, no fears, just the warmth of Tali in her arms and the knowledge that they are safe, here together. And as sleep begins to claim her, Alexis's last thought is that no matter what the future holds, as long as they have each other, they will be alright.

When Chakwas returns later to check on them, she pauses at the sight before her, her expression softening. Alexis and Tali are curled together, their faces relaxed, a sense of peace radiating from them even in sleep. Chakwas smiles, quietly taking a picture on her Omni-tool to send to Mari, before stepping back out of the room, deciding to let them rest. They had earned it—both of them had faced danger, fought, and come out the other side. And now, in this quiet moment, they had found something worth holding onto. Something truly worth fighting for.

The med-bay is quiet, the soft hum of the ship the only sound that fills the air. The dim lights cast a gentle glow over the room, illuminating the two figures resting together on the bed. Chakwas's footsteps fade into the distance, leaving behind an atmosphere that feels almost sacred. Alexis stirs slightly, her arm tightening around Tali, as if her subconscious is aware of the comforting presence beside her, the person she holds dear.

Tali shifts, nestling even closer to Alexis, her head finding the perfect spot in the crook of Alexis's neck, her breath warm and steady against Alexis's skin. It is an instinctual movement, seeking out the warmth and safety that Alexis provides even in sleep. Their limbs entwine naturally, Alexis's arm wrapping securely around Tali's waist, while Tali's leg drapes over Alexis's, holding onto her as if she never wants to let go. There is something unspoken in the way they hold each other—an intimacy that goes beyond words, beyond fear, and beyond the uncertainty of the galaxy they face together.

Even asleep, there is an unmistakable connection between them—an invisible thread that binds them together, unbroken by the trials they've endured. The way Tali's fingers remain curled against Alexis's chest, resting just over her heart, and the synchronised rise and fall of their breathing speak volumes about the bond they share. It is a bond forged in the fires of shared experiences, in the quiet moments between battles, and in the trust that they have built together. Wrapped up in each other's arms, they both feel a sense of belonging—a sense that they have finally found a place where they are safe, where they are cherished.

The peacefulness of the moment stretches on, and with each passing minute, the weight of the day's events dissipates, leaving only the warmth of the other. The med-bay, often a place of uncertainty and fear, feels transformed, filled instead with love and solace. The sterile white walls seem less harsh, the hum of medical equipment now a comforting backdrop rather than a reminder of their fragility. Wrapped in each other's embrace, Alexis and Tali have brought life and warmth to the otherwise clinical space.

Alexis stirs slightly, her eyes opening for just a moment. She takes in the sight of Tali resting against her, her heart swelling with an emotion so deep and profound that it almost takes her breath away. The corners of her lips lift in a small, sleepy smile as she gazes down at Tali, who looks so peaceful in slumber—her lips slightly parted, her expression devoid of worry or fear. Gently, Alexis brushes her fingers along Tali's back, tracing the delicate lines of her tattoos—a silent promise that she will always protect her, that she will always be there.

Tali makes a soft noise—a purr of contentment—that sends a wave of warmth through Alexis. She feels the tension she didn't even realise she was holding begin to dissolve. For this brief period, the weight of her responsibilities—the burden of being Commander and Spectre—fades entirely. There is only Tali, her warmth, her steady breathing, and the comforting knowledge that they are together, that whatever comes next, they will face it side by side.

The minutes pass in a dreamlike haze, the edges of sleep tugging at Alexis, drawing her deeper into a state of rest and safety. It is a rare and precious feeling—this sense of peace, of letting go, even if just for a little while. And she knows, without a doubt, that this peace is because of Tali. Tali, who has become such an integral part of her life on the Normandy despite the short time they have known each other, who has found her way past all of Alexis's defences, who has shown her a love so profound that it makes the chaos of their world bearable.

Tali stirs again, her lips brushing against Alexis's collarbone—a barely-there touch that makes Alexis's breath catch as she feels Tali's fangs ever so slightly against her skin. Even asleep, Tali seems to seek out Alexis, her body instinctively gravitating toward her, her fingers tightening their hold as if afraid of losing her. Alexis feels her heart swell, her chest tightening with a love so deep, so fierce, that she presses a soft kiss to Tali's head, her eyes fluttering shut as she lets herself be enveloped by the warmth of the moment.

They fit together perfectly—limbs intertwined, breaths in sync, hearts beating as one. And as sleep finally claims her, Alexis's last thought is that this—this beautiful, gentle connection—is worth every battle, every hardship, and every challenge yet to come. Here, with Tali in her arms, everything feels right. Whatever the future holds, as long as they have each other, Alexis knows they will be okay.

Morning on the Normandy arrives gently, with Alexis slowly opening her eyes and looking down at Tali, who is already awake and smiling softly at her. In the dim light of the medbay, Tali's violet-blue eyes sparkle, her faint bioluminescent freckles glowing softly across her face. The sight brings a warmth to Alexis's chest, a feeling of contentment that she rarely allows herself to indulge in. It feels like a quiet, private moment, one that belongs only to them, away from the chaos of missions and responsibilities.

"Morning, Alexis," Tali says softly, her voice a gentle murmur, as if she doesn't want to disturb the peace of this moment.

"Morning, Tali," Alexis replies, her words mixed with a yawn as she tightens her arm around Tali's back, pressing her into her body. During the night, the hoodies they had worn had fallen open, leaving their skin flush together. The warmth and comfort of Tali against her makes it hard to want to move. Alexis finds herself savouring this small piece of serenity, a rare reprieve in their chaotic lives. She can feel Tali's heart beating steadily against her own chest, the gentle rhythm lulling her into a state of calm.

Tali lightly trails her hand across Alexis's tattoos, tracing the intricate designs along her arm. Her touch is soft, reverent, as if she wants to memorise the patterns etched into Alexis's skin. It’s not just the warmth of Alexis that Tali is drawn to; it’s the connection they share, a closeness she hasn’t felt in so long. She smiles, her eyes half-closing again as she whispers, "Chakwas will likely be here soon. We should get up."

Alexis nods but makes no move to rise just yet. Instead, she trails her hand gently across Tali's back, her fingertips brushing over the tattoos that decorate Tali's own skin. "We should," she agrees, her voice barely above a murmur, but neither of them is in any hurry to move. Alexis finds herself lost in the feeling of Tali’s warmth, the steady rise and fall of her breathing. It’s a kind of peace she hasn’t realised she was missing until now. She feels as though they fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces finally finding their place.

Tali nuzzles into Alexis's neck, letting out a soft purr of contentment, her breath warm against Alexis's skin. Alexis closes her eyes, feeling the vibrations of Tali’s purr resonate through her. The two of them stay like that for a moment longer, basking in the sense of safety that they find in each other’s arms. Alexis feels Tali’s fingers continue their slow, lazy tracing of her tattoos, and it sends a comforting warmth through her. Finally, they both sigh, reluctant but knowing that they need to face the day. Slowly, they begin to sit up, their bodies untangling, but even then, they stay close, their sides pressed together.

Just as they swing their legs off the bed, Chakwas steps into the room, dressed in her full medical suit. The sight of them still sitting so close brings a knowing smile to her face, though she says nothing about it. Instead, she approaches them, pulling up her omni-tool. "Ahh, good, you are awake. Now, let's do a quick check, and then you can both get out of here," she says, her tone warm but efficient.

Alexis catches the smile, feeling her cheeks warm slightly, but she doesn't pull away from Tali. "Thanks, doc," she says, her voice filled with gratitude as she slides off the bed, grabbing her undersuit and handing Tali hers.

Chakwas runs a quick scan over each of them, nodding in approval as she checks the healing progress. "Okay, the burns are healing nicely. No major infections detected, just a few antibiotics, and you should be good to go; that goes for both of you," she says before stepping back, giving them space. "No worries, I’ll leave you two to get dressed."

Once Chakwas leaves the clean room, Alexis slowly starts pulling on her undersuit, the familiar hiss of air filling the space as the suit seals and its systems engage. Tali stands next to her, doing the same, the routine of dressing in their armour oddly comforting. It’s a ritual, a reminder that they’re still here, still standing after everything. There’s an unspoken understanding between them as they get ready—each movement deliberate, steady, as if to say, "We’re alright. We made it."

Once her undersuit is in place, Alexis starts to dress in the light clothing that sits atop the suit as its second layer—cloth wraps reminiscent of Quarian garments, hers in a deep red, while Tali’s are a soft purple. It’s another link between them, their shared cultural heritage, even though Alexis was born human. It’s a statement, a choice she’s made to embrace the culture that raised her.

With their suits and layers secured, they step out into the outer medbay, picking up the vials of medication Chakwas had set out for them. They inject the antibiotics into their medication ports before heading out, eager to get something to eat.

They enter the mess hall, and Alexis makes her way to the cupboard, grabbing several dextro rations for both herself and Tali, along with her usual supplements. By the time she turns around, Tali has already sat down across from Garrus, who gives them both an appraising look.

Alexis slides onto the bench next to Tali, passing her the rations. Tali smiles, sliding closer, her leg hooking around Alexis's under the table in a subtle gesture of intimacy. It’s small, but it speaks volumes about the bond they share—a bond that has only grown stronger with time.

"So, I see you two are doing better then," Garrus says, his mandibles twitching in what Alexis recognises as a playful grin. "I didn't know you could eat dextro food, Shepard."

"Yeah, Chakwas cleared us both," Alexis replies, shrugging slightly. "I got augmentations as a kid that let me process dextro food with some extra vitamins, supplements, and the like. Can process it, but my body needs a few extra things to make it work."

Garrus nods, an amused glint in his eyes as he glances between the two of them. "That explains it then. I was wondering why we’re so well-stocked on dextro rations. Figured Tali here might be getting a bit spoiled."

Tali chuckles, her fingers brushing lightly against Alexis's arm under the table. "I was pleasantly surprised, too, but I assumed it was for Alexis. I recognised some of the Quarian brands."

Alexis is about to respond, but Garrus cuts her off, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "Oh, are we sure? I still think she might be trying to spoil you, Tali," He grins, his mandibles flaring. "You know, it’s really touching, how well you two look after each other. I mean, waking up together in the medbay, sitting as close as possible at every meal… One might think you two are more than just 'friends.'"

Alexis rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. "Really, Garrus? You’re doing this now?" she asks, shaking her head.

Tali lets out a laugh, her eyes bright behind her visor. "Garrus, don’t start. We’re just… comfortable, alright?"

Garrus raises his hands in mock surrender, a chuckle escaping him. "Oh, I’m not complaining. Just saying, it’s nice to see my two favourite people on the ship happy together." He pauses, his gaze softening slightly. "You deserve it, both of you."

Alexis exchanges a glance with Tali, her heart giving a soft flutter at Garrus's words. Tali smiles, leaning her head briefly against Alexis's shoulder. "Thank you, Garrus," she says softly.

Garrus nods, his eyes warm. "Just remember, if either of you needs anything, I’m here. And if you two need someone to stand in for a 'big brother,' well, I think I could handle the job."

Alexis laughs, shaking her head, the warmth of Garrus's presence making her feel a sense of comfort she hadn't realised she needed. "Big brother, huh? I guess you do fit the part. Always sticking your nose into things and giving unsolicited advice."

Garrus feigns offence, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. "Unsolicited? Shepard, my advice is always the best. Just think where you'd be without my brilliant guidance."

Tali snorts softly, her fingers still brushing Alexis's arm under the table. "Probably still headbutting Krogans and getting herself hurt, I'm afraid."

Garrus smirks. "Exactly. Someone’s got to keep her in check. And if it's not you, Tali, then it’ll have to be me."

Alexis shakes her head, the smile on her face genuine, her heart swelling with affection for both of them. Here, with Tali at her side and Garrus sitting across from them, teasing and supporting them like the brother they both never had, she feels a sense of belonging she can’t quite put into words. It’s a family of sorts—a makeshift one, but one that she knows she wouldn’t trade for anything.

"Alright, alright," Alexis concedes, her voice softening. "But for the record, I think I’m lucky to have both of you watching out for me. Even if it means dealing with the teasing."

Tali nods, her fingers intertwining with Alexis's under the table for a brief moment. "Agreed. We look out for each other. All of us."

Garrus raises his mug in a mock toast, his eyes warm. "To looking out for each other." He pauses, giving them both a knowing smile. "And to whatever else may come."

Alexis meets his gaze, then glances at Tali, a smile tugging at her lips. "To whatever else may come," she echoes softly, her heart swelling with hope and the quiet promise of something more.

Tali rests her head against Alexis’s shoulder, and for a moment, the three of them sit in comfortable silence, sharing a sense of unity that transcends words. It’s a feeling of belonging, of being part of something bigger than themselves. Alexis looks at Garrus, then down at Tali, and knows that whatever challenges await them, they’ll face them together. And that, she realises, is all she could ever ask for.

Chapter 9: IX

Summary:

Mission to Luna, a rogue VI, and a shadow organisation.
The journey to Virmire begins.

Notes:

Here we go!!
I love putting soft moments in the midst of heavy fighting it seems. And I am sure Virmire will be perfectly fine, what is the worst that could happen?

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

IX

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

Alexis stands behind Joker as the Normandy approaches Luna. The Moon’s barren, cratered surface comes into view, a pale grey disk set against the black of space. Beyond the horizon, Earth begins to rise—a brilliant blue orb, vibrant with life, suspended in the void. The swirling clouds, green continents, and deep, endless oceans paint a picture of perfection, a sight meant to inspire awe. It’s the cradle of humanity, a reminder of their beginnings, a symbol of everything they fight to protect.

“Now that’s a sight that never gets old,” Joker says, smiling as his eyes linger on the glowing sphere. There’s a childlike wonder in his voice, an unspoken pride that Alexis can almost feel radiating from him.

She doesn’t share it. 

Alexis’s eyes remain fixed on Earth, her expression unreadable. Her helmet shields her face, but her voice carries a tone of detachment. “It’s just another planet,” she says quietly. “It might be humanity’s home, but it’s the same as any other world.” Her words are sharper than she intends, tinged with something Joker might mistake for indifference, but beneath them lies a deep conflict, a gap she can’t quite bridge. Earth should mean something to her, but it doesn’t—not in the way it does for people like Joker.

The planet before her is breathtaking, Alexis knows that much. Its beauty is undeniable, almost surreal, but that beauty feels like a painting in a museum—something to be admired, not something that stirs her soul. Earth doesn’t feel like home. It’s an alien place, the same way the Citadel had been the first time she saw it, a marvel but not a sanctuary. The truth is, she doesn’t know what home should feel like. 

To her, home has always been fleeting. It was the worn metal halls of ships, the hum of life support systems, the warm press of her mother’s hand on her shoulder as they floated together in zero gravity. Home was the bright bioluminescent glow of Quarian freckles under suit lights, the playful clicks and chirps of affection exchanged in hushed tones. Home was a people who made her one of their own, even if the Migrant Fleet itself never accepted her. Earth has none of that. Its beauty is cold, distant—a monument, not a memory.

“You’ve been to Earth before, right? N-school was here?” Joker’s voice breaks into her thoughts, light and conversational. He doesn’t turn away from the console, but Alexis can feel his curiosity.

“Once,” she replies, her tone clipped. “I saw it from the ground. It was… impressive.” Her words hang hollow, lacking the reverence he might have expected. 

Her first visit to Earth had been unremarkable, save for the unshakable sense of otherness she felt the moment her boots touched the ground. The sky had been brilliant, the cities sprawling with life, but the air had felt heavy, as if she couldn’t quite breathe right. The crowds moved with a rhythm she couldn’t match, and the accents felt strange in her ears, even though she’d spent years mastering one of her own. The entire world had seemed to hum with a frequency just out of sync with hers. She’d felt no pull, no belonging. Only the weight of expectations from a culture she didn’t truly understand.

Alexis glances at the blue and green planet now, her Quarian-enhanced eyes picking out details most wouldn’t notice—the faint glimmer of lights across the continents, the shifting ultraviolet patterns in the atmosphere that only she can see. Earth is vibrant in a way she can’t deny, but it’s not alive to her. It’s too still, too stable. 

For a moment, anger flares in her chest, bitter and sharp. The people on Earth—so safe, so comfortable—don’t understand what it’s like to struggle for every scrap of life. They don’t know what it means to be an outsider, to have to prove your worth again and again, to live with rejection carved into your bones. Not the way Quarians know. Not the way Alexis knows. But Earth? Earth feels like privilege, a place where suffering is an abstraction.

“It’s fine,” Joker says, misreading her silence. “I’ve heard other colonists say the same thing. Earth’s just another planet to them.” His voice is understanding, but Alexis doesn’t reply. She doubts he could truly grasp the depth of her disconnect.

As Earth rotates slowly below, she finds her gaze drifting to the Normandy’s interior. The quiet hum of the ship feels more real, more tangible, than anything on the planet they orbit. This ship, its crew, the camaraderie forged in the fire of shared missions—this is where she feels alive. Not on Earth. Not in the sprawling cities or the historical landmarks. Her family isn’t on that planet; her chosen family is here, with Tali, Garrus, Joker, and the others. The Normandy is her home, and its people are what make it worth protecting.

“Thanks, Joker,” she says finally, her voice steady now. “Once you drop the Mako, keep the Normandy out of sight. I don’t want us risking exposure.”

“Got it, Commander,” he replies, slipping easily into professionalism as Alexis turns to leave.

As she strides through the Normandy’s corridors, the tension in her chest eases. The rhythm of the ship, the voices of the crew, the quiet strength of her team waiting below—all of it grounds her. Earth may be the birthplace of humanity, but it’s not her birthplace. It’s not where she found love, loyalty, or purpose. Those things are here, with her chosen family, with the people who have made her feel like she belongs.

By the time she reaches the hangar bay, her doubts have quieted. Her squad stands ready, their expressions confident, trusting. Alexis meets their gazes, feeling the weight of responsibility, the clarity of her mission. 

“Alright, everyone,” she says, her voice strong, cutting through the stillness. “We’ve got a rogue VI to shut down. Let’s move.” 

Earth may hang in the sky above them, a symbol of everything humanity is supposed to be. But for Alexis, her real fight, her real purpose, will always be out here—among the stars, with the people who have become her family.

The Mako slams onto the lunar surface, Alexis pulling it into a power slide to dissipate the momentum as the tank kicks up a cloud of lunar dust. She’d had Joker drop them at a distance from the base, out of an abundance of caution. She wasn't about to risk the Normandy if her instincts were wrong, and there was always something exhilarating about piloting the Mako in lower gravity. Besides, that rogue VI wasn’t going anywhere.

The Mako careens off a small cliff, catching 'air' before it crashes back down with a heavy thud. Tali lets out a yelp, her fingers clutching the edge of her seat as she braces herself, her helmet dipping low as if she’s trying to sink into her armour. Beside her, Garrus grunts, his mandibles flaring in unease as he keeps his eyes fixed forward, muttering something about how this ride might kill him before the enemy does.

“Relax, Garrus, I’ve got this!” Alexis laughs, her voice crackling over the comms, her eyes glinting with thrill behind her visor.

Wrex, however, roars with laughter beside her, thoroughly enjoying every bump and crash, the Krogan’s gravelly voice blending with Alexis’s as the Mako takes yet another leap over a rocky outcrop. He throws a hand up in excitement, as if this is the best rollercoaster ride he’s ever been on. “Shepard! Now this is how you get a soldier’s blood pumping!” he bellows.

“See? Wrex gets it,” Alexis quips back, her hands steady on the controls, her gaze unwavering. She drives like she fights—confident, instinctive, reactive—every turn and jump calculated on the fly, as though she feels the machine as an extension of herself.

But as they near the target, her demeanour shifts. She slows the Mako down, her eyes scanning the horizon. The base appears over the ridge—small, isolated buildings separated by barren ground, silent and dark. Alexis narrows her eyes behind her visor, the Quarian enhancements allowing her to see more than her companions. The ultraviolet reflections off the metal structures, the absence of movement—it’s eerie, unsettling. She pulls up near the closest building, the Mako’s hum dying down as they come to a stop.

“Let’s keep it quiet from here,” she says, her voice focused now. “No telling what the VI’s rigged up as a welcome.”

The squad dismounts, Alexis dropping lightly onto the lunar surface. The lower gravity gives her a weightless sensation, a feeling reminiscent of drifting through zero-g corridors as a child. She strides towards the door, scanning its outer control panel. It’s locked, completely sealed down—unsurprising, given the rogue VI’s presence.

“Tali, if you’d do the honours?” she asks, gesturing towards the panel.

“On it, Alexis.” Tali steps forward, her voice calm as she approaches the panel. She runs her fingers along its edge, her movements swift, precise—Quarian hands made for tinkering. She pulls off the panel, revealing a mess of wires, and barely glances at it before selecting the right connections. Within moments, the door hisses and slides open.

“Nice work.” Alexis nods, a sense of warmth in her chest. There’s a familiarity in watching Tali work, a reminder of home—the gestures, the ease with which Tali manipulates the machinery. It’s the same confidence Alexis once saw in her mother, in the way Quarians approach technology, like it’s breathing to them. She gives Tali a nod of gratitude before stepping inside.

The interior is pitch black, a void that swallows any light. Alexis clicks on her assault rifle’s flashlight, its narrow beam slicing through the darkness. They make their way down the stairs, the soundless movements almost disconcerting—their exo-suits providing all they need in the vacuum, their breaths audible only to themselves. The weight of silence presses on them as they move deeper into the facility.

The first body lies sprawled in the hallway, a silent testament to the VI’s handiwork. Alexis kneels beside it, turning the corpse gently. The blue hue of the skin, the bulging veins—it’s clear. Asphyxiation. The VI vented the atmosphere. The bodies are frozen, locked in their final moments of desperation.

Garrus kneels beside another. “Damn... Didn’t even give them a chance,” he murmurs, his mandibles clicking in disapproval.

“They wouldn’t have known what hit them,” Tali adds, her voice carrying a hint of sorrow. To her, it feels like a betrayal—a machine meant to protect, turning on its creators. There’s something fundamentally wrong about it.

“Keep focused. We need to make sure we’re not next,” Alexis says, her voice steady. She doesn’t let her thoughts linger on the bodies—their deaths are already etched into her memory. There’s no point in dwelling when she still has people to protect.

They proceed cautiously, the corridor narrowing as they descend a set of stairs. Wrex takes the lead beside Alexis, while Tali and Garrus cover the rear. The path leads them to another door, the security lock disengaged—a red flag that immediately puts Alexis on edge. She holds up her hand, signalling her squad to halt as she scans through the door. Heat signatures—multiple sources. Security mechs.

She motions to Garrus and Tali to hold position, while she and Wrex flank either side of the door. She opens it quickly, ducking behind a barricade just in time. Bullets slam into their cover, the silent impacts reverberating through their suits. Wrex growls lowly, his eyes narrowing in excitement as he glances at Alexis. She signals him with a nod.

They move as one. Wrex charges left, his massive form drawing the fire as Alexis darts to the right, her rifle raised. Garrus’s sniper rifle rings out, the flash visible even in the vacuum. Tali unleashes an overload, the pulse of energy disabling a mech long enough for Wrex to crush it with a single, powerful blow.

One last mech drops behind cover, its metallic form crouched low. Alexis doesn’t hesitate—using the Moon’s gravity, she disengages her mag-boots and leaps, her body soaring over the barricade. She feels the rush of weightlessness, her enhanced eyes catching every detail of the mech beneath her. She fires downwards mid-twist, her boots landing on the roof with the recoil, the synthetic shell buckling under the force until it cracks. The lights in its optics blink out, and the mech lies still, lifeless below her.

She kicks off the roof and lands in a crouch, sliding slightly with the momentum before slamming into the next door. The impact jars her, but she collects herself quickly, her assault rifle already raised as the door hisses open. She edges into the room, sweeping her gaze for any hostiles. The room is empty, cold, silent, save for the hum of machinery.

“We’re in the control room. Should be able to shut down the VI remotely,” she says, her voice echoing slightly in her helmet.

Tali steps forward, her fingers dancing across the control panel. Alexis watches, her heart pounding with anticipation. Tali pauses, shaking her head. “No good, Shepard. The VI’s locked out all remote access to its processors. We’re going to have to do this the hard way—physically access the servers.”

Alexis nods, determination settling in her chest. “Then that’s what we’ll do. Let’s move.”

"One second." Alexis turns back to Tali, watching the Quarian's three-fingered hands move rapidly over the controls. Tali’s motions are precise, a dance of confidence and skill that Alexis finds herself admiring for a brief moment. The control panel responds, the lighting flickering to life throughout the base, and the atmosphere systems kick in, filling the rooms with much-needed oxygen.

“That should make things a little easier from here on out,” Tali announces, her voice carrying both relief and a touch of pride.

“Great job.” Alexis smiles beneath her helmet, her full attention now on Tali. She’s about to say more, but the hiss of a door catches her attention. Her gaze snaps to the entryway further into the base, but it’s too late—security mechs march in, their weapons raised. The split-second delay is enough to tip the odds against her.

Tali reacts before she even thinks, instincts forged from a life spent on ships and tight quarters where speed means survival. She vaults over the console, her body moving like a blur. There’s a burst of panic, the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins, and before she knows it, she’s closing the distance to Alexis, tackling her behind a smaller console just as the first rounds are fired. Bullets zing past, hitting the walls where Alexis had been standing only moments before.

Alexis feels the impact, Tali's weight pressing her down. For a heartbeat, everything is still—just the sound of their breathing in their helmets, the muted thud of Tali’s form atop hers. Alexis blinks, her visor filled with the sight of Tali’s visor pressed against her chest armour, the soft glow of the Quarian’s display a comforting contrast to the chaos erupting around them.

Then, Wrex’s laughter booms across the comms. “HA! You’re gonna need something bigger than that!” The Krogan steps forward, his biotic barrier shimmering as bullets ricochet off it harmlessly. He moves like a juggernaut, unstoppable, reaching the nearest mech in a few strides. With a roar, he tears the weaponised arm off the mech with a single wrenching motion, then uses the severed appendage to batter the synthetic into the ground, crushing its core beneath relentless blows. The mech’s outer shell crumples under his strength, its lights flickering and fading.

From the far side of the room, Garrus’s sniper rifle cracks again and again, each shot precise. Alexis catches glimpses of the barrel, barely peeking above his cover, and each time a mech’s head explodes in a shower of sparks. His calm voice crackles in her ear, the confidence in his tone almost a counterpoint to the tension in hers. “One down… another… three more to go.”

Wrex and Garrus make short work of the remaining mechs, Wrex barely firing a shot, relying on his brute strength and biotics instead. The room falls quiet, only the hum of machinery and the occasional spark from the broken mechs breaking the silence.

Alexis blinks, her senses returning as she feels the weight of Tali still pressing down on her. Tali lies protectively over her, her head still resting against Alexis’s chest. Alexis can feel the Quarian trembling slightly, her breathing uneven, the tension of the moment still holding her tightly. Slowly, Tali opens her eyes, realising her visor is nestled against Alexis’s chest plate. Her heart races, the sound of her own breathing loud in her ears as she starts to rise, her movements slow and deliberate.

“Keelah...” Tali murmurs, her voice barely audible. She stands, her legs feeling unsteady beneath her. The rush of adrenaline begins to fade, and she tries to slow her breathing, her chest rising and falling as she works to regain her composure.

Alexis stays down for a second longer, her gaze fixed on Tali’s silhouette. The Quarian’s actions, the protectiveness—something about it tugs at her, a warmth that spreads through her chest. She picks herself up, retrieving her rifle from where it had fallen. She’s fairly certain she could’ve dodged the attack herself, but what Tali did… It was exactly what she would have done if their positions were reversed, especially after that night in the medbay. She can’t deny the connection, the bond that’s formed between them.

“Thanks,” Alexis says softly, stepping towards Tali. She leans in, resting her helmet against Tali’s, the faceplates connecting—a gesture of intimacy among Quarians, one that carries weight. “I owe you.”

“Anytime.” Tali’s response is equally soft, her voice thick with emotion. Her heart still pounds, the closeness of Alexis, the gratitude in her words—it makes something twist in her chest, something tender and vulnerable. The feeling is overwhelming, and yet she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Their helmets remain pressed together for a moment longer, the world around them fading into nothing but the warmth of each other’s presence.

“If you two are done flirting, we need to go.” Wrex’s voice breaks through, his grin almost audible through the comms. “Besides, you’re both too squishy to be making doe-eyes at each other in a war zone. Leave that to us Krogans.”

Alexis pulls back, a chuckle escaping her. “Alright, Wrex. Lead the way.” She looks at Tali one more time, her gaze holding for just a second longer before she steps forward. The moment may have passed, but the feeling lingers—a quiet warmth, a reminder that in this cold, hostile place, they still have each other.

Tali nods, her cheeks burning beneath her mask, but a smile spreads across her face as she falls into step behind Alexis. There’s no need for words—there’s understanding, a bond unspoken but felt deeply. And for Tali, that’s enough.

Alexis pushes forward without another word. The squad falls in behind her, jogging to form their diamond formation, with Wrex covering the rear and Alexis leading the charge. The corridors wind deeper into the base, each passageway feeling narrower, each turn more claustrophobic. The walls seem to close in the further they descend, and with each step, the mechs grow in number and sophistication, their mechanical whirs echoing like a thousand insect wings in the oppressive dark.

Wrex soon takes point, his massive form a shield for the others as small arms fire bounces harmlessly off his thick armour. He’s a walking bulwark, his biotic barrier shimmering as a faint blue haze around his frame, giving his silhouette a ghostly, unstoppable aura. Alexis trusts him to keep them moving, her eyes sharp, her mind racing ahead to the final door.

The last door is different—reinforced, scarred from an apparent explosion, soot blackening the metal. It’s flanked by bodies, their positions frozen in desperation, each one lying with their back to the door, as if trying to flee before they met their fate. Alexis swallows hard, her throat tightening at the sight. She doesn’t allow herself to hesitate, not with her squad depending on her. She steps forward and presses the button.

The door hisses, groaning as it unlocks, revealing a cavernous space. The air feels heavier here, oppressive, the weight of death still thick even as the atmosphere continues to cycle back into the base. On the far side, she spots their objective—a cluster of data banks and processors protected behind ballistic glass, layers of it gleaming under the fluorescent lights. It’s the heart of the rogue VI, caged in and heavily secured.

They advance cautiously, each member of the squad with their weapons raised, ready for anything. They take barely a step before sirens blare, harsh and deafening, the sound reverberating off the cold metal walls. Alexis’s helmet filters it, but even then, it’s nearly unbearable, drowning her thoughts. Red emergency lights flash, and before she can react, the room is alive with movement—security mechs powering up, turrets swivelling towards them.

“Take cover!” Alexis shouts, her voice cutting through the cacophony.

They scatter, diving behind whatever cover they can find. Alexis and Tali end up behind the burned-out wreck of a Mako, its engine long since destroyed. Tali presses against Alexis, her breathing shaky, her omni-tool already buzzing as she starts hacking into the VI systems. Garrus finds his position at the far end, creating a makeshift sniper’s nest where he can pick his targets with precision. His rifle cracks, shot after shot, each one sending sparks as mech heads explode in a flash of blue and white.

Wrex, meanwhile, stands tall, a towering force of nature. His laugh echoes through the comms, wild and untamed. “I. AM. KROGAN!” he bellows, and there’s a primal satisfaction in his words. He charges, his shotgun in one hand, his assault rifle in the other, a walking arsenal. Every round he fires hits its mark, and every step sends a tremor through the ground, biotic energy rippling out from his boots, toppling mechs and sending them sprawling.

The Krogan carves a path, his laughter blending with the chaos, a storm unto himself. He’s a force of nature, relentless, unstoppable, and for a moment, Alexis is reminded of why she trusts him. There’s something almost comforting in Wrex’s sheer brutality—it’s dependable, unwavering.

Tali keeps her head low, her omni-tool glowing brightly as her fingers fly over the controls. She works on multiple fronts—trying to hack the mechs’ systems, turn them against each other, or at least disable their power cores. She bites back a curse as the VI counters her every move. Her fingers move faster, her concentration absolute, even as the ground shakes with the impact of bullets and biotic slams.

Mechs that manage to get close are met by Alexis’s quick shots. She moves to Wrex’s position, keeping behind his broad frame as he blasts through the enemy, giving her the protection she needs to cover Tali.

Wrex, though formidable, reaches his limit. His armour is pockmarked with dents, blackened with scorch marks from energy rounds. He ducks behind cover, breathing heavily, the harsh rasp of exertion audible through the comms. He reaches for his medi-gel, the substance foaming as he applies it to his wounds. He makes to rise again, but Alexis places a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him down.

“Stay down, Wrex. We’ve got this,” she says, her voice leaving no room for argument.

He grunts, his eyes narrowing behind his visor, but he nods reluctantly, his assault rifle still raised. He won’t charge, but he’ll damn well keep shooting. Alexis knows this is the best compromise she’ll get.

She shouts over the din of battle, her voice commanding. “Tali! Get to me!”

Tali doesn’t hesitate. She makes a break for it, her shield shimmering as rounds ricochet off it, her heart pounding in her ears. She dives into cover beside Alexis, sliding in to avoid a second volley. Her breathing is ragged, but there’s no time to rest.

“What’s the plan?” Tali asks, her voice urgent, her eyes wide behind her visor.

“We need to shut this thing down.” Alexis glances at the server room across the battlefield, its door still intact but vulnerable. “You need to get in there and cut it off at the source.”

“Why not just blow it up?” Wrex calls, his tone holding an edge of frustration. Alexis can almost hear his grin—this kind of chaos is his element. “You know you want to see it go up, Shepard.”

Alexis shakes her head. “No. The tech’s too valuable. We need it intact if we can manage it. We just need to... tweak the whole ‘kill everyone’ directive.”

Wrex’s laughter is like a rolling thunder. “Makes it more fun if it’s trying to kill you.”

Alexis smirks, but her expression turns serious as she addresses Garrus. “Garrus, clear us a path to the server room.”

“Aye, Shepard.” Garrus shifts, refocusing his fire, the muzzle of his sniper rifle trailing smoke as he picks off the mechs in their path. Each shot is clean, precise—a testament to his years of experience.

“Let’s move!” Alexis signals to Tali, her body a blur as she springs into action, firing at mechs that stand in their way. Tali moves beside her, her shotgun blasting any stragglers that threaten to get too close. They reach the server room, the reinforced door standing between them and the rogue VI’s core.

Tali immediately gets to work, her fingers moving quickly to unlock it. The door shudders, each second feeling like an eternity as mechs pour their fire towards them. When it finally hisses open, Alexis pulls Tali inside, slamming it shut behind them. The door locks with a heavy thud, but even that doesn’t feel like enough.

“Get to the controls. Shut it down,” Alexis says, her rifle trained on the door, ready to meet any threat that breaches it.

Tali rushes to the console, her hands already moving across the controls. “Working on it… but…” Her voice trails off, and Alexis hears the hesitation, the unease.

“What is it?” Alexis steps closer, her tone laced with urgency. Tali’s silence sets her on edge, and when Tali speaks again, her voice is shaky.

“It’s… it’s learning, Alexis. It’s adapting to my attempts to override it. Keelah… it’s becoming self-aware.” Tali’s eyes widen, her voice breaking. “Hackett lied to you, Alexis. This isn’t just a rogue VI—it’s evolving.”

Alexis feels her stomach twist, her mind racing. If Hackett lied—if this is what she thinks it is—it could be catastrophic. The implications ripple through her, but there’s no time to process them now. Anger bubbles beneath the surface, the betrayal burning like a cold fire in her chest, but she forces it down. Focus. She has to focus. 

She places a hand on Tali’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “We’ll deal with that later. Right now, I need you to shut it down. Can you do it?”

Tali looks up at Alexis, her glowing eyes meeting the visor of Alexis’s helmet. She nods, determination returning to her voice. “I’ll try, Alexis. I won’t let this thing win.”

“Good. I’ve got your back.” Alexis turns her attention to the door, hearing the groan of metal as the VI-controlled mechs pound against it. “Just hurry. We don’t have much time.”

Tali works frantically, her fingers moving with precision, trying every trick she knows to break the VI’s control. Alexis stands guard, her breath even, her focus absolute. Whatever Hackett has dragged them into, whatever truths they’ve uncovered—it all falls away. Here, now, all that matters is the mission, her squad, and keeping them alive.

The door rattles, the metal buckling under the pressure. The mechs are relentless, and Alexis knows they have seconds at best. She risks a glance back at Tali, the Quarian’s form hunched over the console, her fingers still moving at lightning speed.

“Almost… almost there…” Tali mutters, her voice strained, her omni-tool flashing as she fights against the VI’s last defences.

“Hurry, Tali,” Alexis urges, her grip tightening on her rifle. The door isn’t going to hold. The mechs are almost through, the sound of metal groaning, splitting under the pressure echoing in the room.

Tali’s hands move faster, her entire focus on the console. “Got it!” she shouts, just as the door begins to give way. The lights around them flicker, and suddenly, the sounds of the mechs cease. The pounding stops. The sirens cut off mid-blare, and silence falls across the base.

Alexis lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, her shoulders sagging slightly. She turns to Tali, her voice filled with relief. “Good work, Tali.”

Tali slumps over the console, her breath coming in gasps, her exhaustion evident. “Keelah… I thought we weren’t going to make it.”

Alexis crosses to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, a gentle squeeze. “We made it, thanks to you.”

Tali looks up at her, her eyes filled with emotion. There’s fear, relief, and something else—something softer, something that makes Alexis’s chest tighten in response. They hold each other’s gaze for a heartbeat longer, the chaos around them fading into the background.

Alexis looks carefully around the server room, her eyes lingering on the control console for the rogue VI. Every light on the console is now extinguished, the once active and pulsating glow replaced by cold, lifeless metal. There’s a moment of silence that hangs heavy in the room, the gravity of what they’ve done sinking in. The fight was over, but what lay ahead weighed more on her mind.

She scowls at the console, her jaw tightening. Hackett lied. The words echo in her mind, each repetition sharpening her sense of betrayal. If what Tali said is true—if Hackett knowingly sent them to deal with a self-aware AI—then this whole mission could blow up in her face. It’s a powder keg, one wrong word away from detonating and dragging humanity's reputation down with it. And Alexis is the one holding the match.

She lets out a slow breath, feeling the tension settle in her shoulders. She’s used to pressure—she’s been in firefights that would make most people freeze, has led squads through impossible odds—but this is different. It’s not just a fight; it’s political, it’s complex. It’s a mess that could tarnish the Alliance, maybe even put a target on her back from without and within the Alliance. She has to be careful with every word, every step.

“Let’s get out of here,” Alexis finally says, her voice tight, a thin veneer of calm concealing her frustration. She casts a final glance at the dead console, her scowl deepening. “Think I’ve had enough of this place.”

Tali nods beside her, and Alexis catches the flicker of concern in the Quarian’s eyes. Tali isn’t oblivious—she knows the weight of what they’ve discovered, knows the pressure now resting on Alexis’s shoulders. She hesitates for a moment, then places a gentle hand on Alexis’s arm, a silent gesture of comfort.

“Whatever happens, Alexis, I’ve got your back,” Tali says softly. There’s an unspoken trust in her voice, a promise that extends beyond just the mission.

Alexis turns to meet Tali’s gaze, her own expression softening, even if only slightly. She lets the silence stretch between them, words failing to capture the depth of her gratitude. Instead, she places her hand over Tali’s briefly, a silent thanks. Tali doesn’t need her to say it; she knows.

“Let’s move.” Alexis straightens, her voice taking on the authoritative edge of a commander once more. “We still have Wrex and Garrus to round up, and then I need to have a little chat with Hackett.” The bitterness is unmistakable, the betrayal she feels simmering just beneath her words.

Together, they make their way out of the server room, retracing their steps through the facility. The base feels different now—hollow, empty. The echoes of gunfire and machinery are gone, replaced by an eerie stillness that does nothing to ease Alexis’s thoughts. Her steps are steady, purposeful, but her mind is already racing ahead, formulating the words she’ll need, the questions she’ll have to ask, and the answers she’ll demand.

As they emerge from the server room, Wrex is waiting, his armour dented but his posture as confident as ever. He grins when he spots them, his teeth flashing behind his helmet. “Took you long enough, Shepard. Thought I’d have to come in and bail you out.”

Alexis gives a half-smile, shaking her head. “Not today, Wrex. We had it under control.”

Garrus approaches from his vantage point, lowering his rifle. “Glad to see you two in one piece. What’s next, Commander?”

Alexis takes a breath, her eyes hardening with determination. “We head topside. I need to make a call—to Hackett. There’s more to this than we were told, and I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”

Garrus tilts his head, his mandibles flaring slightly. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“There is,” Alexis mutters, her voice low. “And it’s one we’re going to get to the bottom of.”

Wrex laughs, the sound booming across the still air. “Good. I like a mystery—especially one that ends with someone getting their ass kicked.”

Alexis allows herself a brief smile, the tension in her chest easing just a little at the sight of her team. They trust her, they’re with her, no matter what comes next. It’s that trust that keeps her steady, that reminds her she’s not facing this alone.

She turns, nodding to her squad. “Let’s go. We’ve still got a lot of work ahead of us.”

And as they move out, Alexis feels the weight of what’s ahead—the unpleasant conversation, the revelations yet to come—but she also feels the quiet strength of those beside her.

~~

Alexis sat down heavily in her quarters, the chair groaning slightly under her weight as she slumped forward. She rested the forehead of her helmet against the cold metal of the desk, closing her eyes for a moment. This was going to be a difficult conversation, one she wished she didn’t have to have. She had faced down accusations before, had pointed fingers at superiors, but this—this was different. This was high-stakes, on a whole other level. She needed to be careful. Best to get it over with.

She took a deep breath, then pressed the button, initiating the call.

Admiral Hackett’s face appeared on the small screen, his stern features illuminated by the dim light of her quarters. He saluted her, the gesture formal, sharp, and Alexis returned it with barely a second’s hesitation.

“Commander,” he began, his voice gravelly, his gaze steady. “From your report, the mission was a success, then?”

“Yes, sir,” Alexis replied, her voice clipped, professional. She could feel her pulse quicken, but she kept her expression neutral, especially glad that she had been told it was hard to read her body language in or out of the suit for humans.

Hackett nodded, his expression serious, though there was a certain satisfaction in his eyes. “Thank you for handling it swiftly, and with discretion,” he said, his tone carrying a subtle weight. The words hung between them, pointed, as if daring her to contradict him.

Alexis clenched her jaw, holding back the words she wanted to say, waiting for her moment. “The VI was shut down, sir. I assume recovery operations are underway?”

“There’s a team en route as we speak. Black Ops, of course.” Hackett’s eyes locked on hers, a hint of suspicion beneath his composed demeanour. “Is there anything else, Commander?”

Alexis exhaled slowly, steadying herself. This was it. “With all due respect, Admiral, you didn’t exactly tell me everything my squad would be walking into.”

Hackett’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I told you everything necessary for the success of the mission. Some things need to remain classified for the safety of everyone involved.”

“Classified, like creating a fully self-aware AI?” Alexis’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and accusing. Hackett’s face twitched, a brief flicker of discomfort breaking his composure. She could see it—he’d been expecting this. 

“Sir,” she continued, her voice gaining momentum, her frustration slipping through, “this wasn’t just a VI gone rogue. It didn’t just kill the personnel in the facility—it vented the entire atmosphere, deliberately killing every single person in that base. It acted with self-preservation, it strategised to ensure its own survival. VIs don’t do that. They don’t have instincts. You sent me and my team in blind, and we’re damn lucky we had Tali'Zorah there to shut it down properly.”

Hackett’s gaze hardened, but there was something else there—a hint of acknowledgement. He paused, his lips pressing into a thin line before he spoke. “Indeed.” He leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m going to share something with you, Shepard, and I need your word that it won’t leave this room.”

Alexis’s eyes narrowed, suspicion gnawing at her gut. She nodded, her voice cautious. “Understood, sir.”

Hackett seemed to consider her for a moment longer before continuing. “The entire facility was established to study VIs—to improve them, adapt them for battlefield scenarios. Better tactics, better responses under pressure. A Black Ops division of the Alliance oversaw the project. Codename: Cerberus.”

“Cerberus…” Alexis echoed, the name foreign, her brows knitting together. She’d never heard of them, which meant they were deep under the radar, beyond what even an N7 or Spectre might be privy to.

“Cerberus took it further than we anticipated,” Hackett said, his voice lowering, a hint of bitterness creeping in. “Their objective was not just enhanced VI. They pursued the creation of a true AI, and from what you’ve described, they very nearly succeeded. They’re not under my direct command, Shepard. They operate independently. I don’t have the authority to shut them down.”

For a moment, Alexis could only stare at the screen, her mind racing. Cerberus—a black ops group within the Alliance, attempting to create AI? The implications were staggering. Her upbringing had instilled in her a deep wariness of AI, the stories of the Geth rebellion a constant reminder of what could go wrong. And now humanity was flirting with the same dangers, creating something that could think, evolve—something that could decide it was above them.

“So, you didn’t fully know what you were sending us into,” Alexis said, her tone almost accusing, though there was a trace of exhaustion behind it.

Hackett didn’t flinch, his expression unwavering. “No. I had my suspicions, but I didn’t have concrete proof until your report. That’s why I chose you, Shepard. I needed someone capable, someone who could think on their feet. I needed your team. Frankly, I doubt anyone else would have made it out unscathed.”

There was a moment of silence, tension hanging thick in the air between them. Alexis wanted to press further, to demand more answers, but she knew she wouldn’t get them—not now. Hackett was giving her all he was willing to, and she had to work with that.

“If that’s all, Commander?” Hackett’s voice broke through her thoughts, his tone signalling an end to the conversation.

Alexis swallowed, her eyes narrowing slightly before she gave a curt nod. “Nothing else, sir.”

“Good. Hackett out.” The screen blinked to black, the sudden darkness enveloping her once more. 

Alexis stayed still, staring at the empty screen, her thoughts a tangled mess. Cerberus. The very name left a bitter taste in her mouth. A secret organisation within the Alliance, experimenting with AI—a risk so dangerous, it threatened everything she had fought to protect. 

Her stomach twisted, a sinking feeling settling deep within her gut. This wasn’t over. She knew it, felt it in her bones. Cerberus wasn’t done, and the next time they crossed paths, she doubted it would be any easier. The shadows she thought she knew were growing darker, and she had the distinct feeling that this was just the beginning.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair, her helmet tilting upwards as she stared at the ceiling. She had to be ready, no matter what came next. She wasn’t just doing this for humanity—she was doing it for her people, for the Quarians who had suffered at the hands of AI before. For her crew, who trusted her to lead them through whatever mess the galaxy threw at them.

Her fingers drummed against the armrest of her chair as she let out a breath. Whatever it took, whatever came next, she would be ready.

"Commander," the comms officer's voice crackles over the intercom, a sudden interruption that pulls Alexis out of her brooding thoughts. "Got a message from the Council coming through for you, it's marked urgent."

Alexis lets out a small sigh, the weight of her recent conversation with Hackett still pressing down on her shoulders. There’s no rest—not for her, not for a Spectre. "Copy that. Route it to the comms room. I'm on my way," she replies, her voice steady despite the exhaustion that pulls at her.

She pushes herself up from her chair, her body protesting from the tension of the last mission. She takes a deep breath, straightening her posture before stepping out of her quarters, the door hissing shut behind her. The metallic clang echoes slightly, a reminder of the confinement, the isolation she sometimes feels aboard the Normandy—even among her crew.

Her steps are quick, purposeful, as she makes her way to the lift, the hum of the ship surrounding her. The Normandy's engines are a constant presence, a low thrum that has become a familiar comfort. It’s a reminder of the ship's heart, its purpose. She can feel the subtle vibrations through her boots, and for a moment, it brings her back to her childhood—drifting in the cold of space aboard vessels with her mum, feeling the gentle hum of life support and engines as a reminder that they were alive, that they were moving.

The lift dings softly, the doors sliding open, and she straightens, stepping out and making her way through the CIC. The crew glance up as she passes—some nodding respectfully, others offering small smiles. Alexis acknowledges them with a slight nod, her focus already shifting to the conversation ahead. She steps into the comms room, the door sliding shut behind her, sealing her away from the rest of the ship.

The room is dimly lit, the holographic interface already glowing in the center. Alexis takes a breath, her hands settling on her hips as she approaches the console. The Council’s emblem rotates slowly on the display, waiting for her.

“Commander,” the familiar voice crackles to life, but only the Salarian Councilor appears on the screen, his holographic figure flickering slightly.

“Councilor.” Alexis keeps her tone as neutral as possible, her face set in a polite but distant expression. Whatever the Councilor wants, she knows she has to play this carefully. Her feelings about them—about their frequent lack of support—are not something she can afford to let slip. “Is there something we need to discuss?”

The Councilor’s eyes narrow slightly, his tone urgent, his words direct. “We’ve received intel on Saren’s location.”

Alexis blinks, her fatigue dissipating, her mind snapping back to focus. “Wait, really?” Her voice holds a mix of surprise and disbelief. “I thought he was hiding—impossible to track.”

“Yes, that has been the case,” the Salarian replies, his gaze sharp. “But a Salarian Reconnaissance Team caught a break. They’ve tracked him into the Attican Traverse, to what appears to be his main base of operations.” The Councilor pauses, his expression growing grim. “We’ve since lost contact with the team, Commander. We believe they’re in immediate danger. We need you to respond. This could be our chance to end this—perhaps sooner than we anticipated.”

The words hang between them, and Alexis feels her pulse quicken. They finally have a lead—a real chance to track down Saren, to get ahead of him before he can strike again. The thought sends a surge of determination through her. “Where am I headed?”

“Virmire,” the Councilor responds. “The planet is on the border of the Terminus Systems, so you are advised to proceed with caution. Saren’s forces are likely numerous, and the political implications of Alliance interference are... precarious. Engage the Normandy’s stealth systems upon approach. We cannot afford to have this mission interpreted as an act of aggression against the Terminus Systems.”

Alexis nods, her mind already racing, plans beginning to form. She needs to prepare the crew—get everyone ready for what could be a significant battle, or worse, an ambush. “Understood, Councilor. I’ll head there right away.”

“Good. Time is of the essence, Commander.” With that, the Councilor disconnects, the hologram fading to black before Alexis can respond.

She stands there for a moment, her thoughts still catching up. Virmire. Saren’s base. This is their chance, and she knows she can’t let it slip. She is about to turn and head back to the CIC when Joker’s voice comes through the intercom, a slightly mocking tone laced with curiosity.

“I assume you got all that, Joker?” she says, her lips twitching upward in a slight smile.

“Pfft… what? Me? I wasn’t listening in.” Joker’s reply is drenched in sarcasm, his excuse sounding weak even to his own ears.

Alexis rolls her eyes, the smile growing wider. She is used to his antics, and they are a small comfort in the face of what lies ahead. “Uh-huh. Get us to Virmire, ASAP.”

“Laying in the course now, Commander,” Joker says, his voice shifting to a more serious tone, the professionalism she knows he can deliver when it matters. “ETA eight hours.”

“Thanks, Joker.” Alexis feels the weight of the mission settle onto her shoulders, the gravity of what lies ahead pressing against her chest. She needs to make every second count.

She turns away from the comms room, her gaze sweeping over the crew members bustling around the CIC, their expressions focused, determined. Her crew—her family. She’ll lead them into Virmire, just like every other mission. She will ensure they make it out, no matter the cost. And if Saren is there, she’ll make sure he doesn’t get away. Not this time.

As she makes her way to the command deck, Alexis allows herself one deep breath, letting the adrenaline sharpen her focus. The Normandy thrums beneath her feet, its engines powering up as they set course for Virmire. Eight hours. Eight hours to prepare, to brief her team, to ready herself for whatever Saren has planned.

She passes Tali and Garrus on her way to the lift, their eyes meeting hers with a silent question. She gives them a nod, her gaze steely, her determination palpable.

“We’re moving. Prep for deployment,” Alexis says, her voice carrying the edge of command, the promise of action.

Garrus tilts his head slightly, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. “Got a lead on Saren?”

“Better than that,” Alexis replies. “We’re going straight for his base.”

Tali’s eyes widen behind her visor, and Alexis can hear the quick intake of breath. “Keelah… Saren’s base? That’s huge, Shepard.”

“It is,” Alexis says, her gaze locking on Tali’s. “Which is why we need everyone at the ready. We’re going in prepared for anything.”

Garrus exchanges a glance with Tali before nodding. “You’ve got it, Shepard. We’ll get everything ready.”

“Thanks, both of you.” Alexis nods, moving past them and stepping into the lift. She presses the button for the crew deck, her expression hardening as the doors close. This is it—the chance they’ve been waiting for. Saren is within reach, and she isn’t going to let it slip.

She takes a deep breath, letting the weight of her responsibility settle into her bones, feeling it give her strength. Eight hours to Virmire. Eight hours until they face Saren, until they put an end to his plans.

And she’ll make sure that when they reach Virmire, they’ll be ready.

Chapter 10: X

Summary:

Landing at Virmire, meeting the STG and debating the Genophage cure.
They hold the line.

Notes:

Wooo! Finally, at the first part of the Virmire mission and the Wrex confrontation.

It was actually really fun to write, especially with the weight of a Quarian-raised Shepard and her perspective and the different approach compared to that offered in the game.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

X

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Shepard marches into the cockpit, her boots striking the metal flooring with purpose, each step announcing her presence. She makes sure her footsteps are loud enough to give Joker plenty of warning—not wanting to startle him, especially during a crucial part of flying the Normandy.

Joker turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder as she approaches. “Scans of the ground are complete, Shepard,” he reports, turning his chair to face her fully. “The Salarians were right. Saren’s here, and so is that massive ship of his.”

Alexis feels a surge of adrenaline at the news, her eyes narrowing. “How close can you get us to the base?” she asks, leaning over the back of Joker’s seat, her focus on the display screens ahead.

Joker grimaces, his mouth pulling into a tight line. “Barely within a few kilometres,” he admits his tone a mix of frustration and resignation. “Saren’s got some nasty ground defences. They’ll shoot the Normandy out of the sky before we can get anywhere near. The AA guns alone could take out a cruiser. Normandy’s shields just can’t handle that kind of firepower. We can’t even stealth in—they’d spot us a mile away and bring us down. Between those and the firepower of Sovereign, you’re gonna have to take the Mako. I’m good, but I’m not a miracle worker.”

Alexis nods, absorbing the information. She trusts Joker—trusts his instincts, his skills, and his judgment when it comes to flying the Normandy. If he says it’s impossible, then it’s impossible. She places a hand briefly on the back of his chair, her voice firm. “Alright. Get ready to drop the Mako. Get us as close as you can, then we’ll take it from there.” She turns on her heel, already moving towards the CIC, her voice rising over the noise of the cockpit, “Let’s go get that bosh'tet!”

Joker watches her go, shaking his head with a small smile. “Just another day in the life,” he mutters, turning back to his console, his fingers moving swiftly over the controls.

As Alexis strides through the ship, she passes by crew members who look up, catching the determination in her stride. A sense of purpose fills the air, the anticipation palpable. The crew around her start to cheer, their voices carrying through the CIC—they’re excited, energized by the prospect of confronting Saren directly. Their mission, the chase, the fight they’ve all been waiting for—it’s all coming to a head. And she can feel it too, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her heart pounding with the promise of action.

~~~~

Shepard slams her foot down, pressing the accelerator of the Mako hard to the floor, sending the tank rocketing out of the Normandy’s cargo bay. The Mako hits the ground with a jarring thud, its tyres skidding over the uneven terrain beneath the shallow water. Alexis doesn’t relent for even a second, her grip tight on the controls, the Mako charging forward. She finally brings them to a stop some distance from the landing point, surveying the surroundings on the Mako’s display, her eyes narrowing in focus.

Virmire is a tropical paradise—lush greenery, sparkling waters, vibrant skies—a world that could’ve been a prime candidate for colonization if not for its dangerous location near the Terminus Systems. The constant threat of attack from raiders and pirates kept any serious colonization efforts at bay. Humanity had tried, briefly, but their outpost had been swiftly attacked, forcing them to abandon the planet. Virmire became blacklisted—a no-go zone, a missed opportunity. Now, it was Saren’s chosen hideout, a base protected by defences so formidable that an air approach was out of the question.

The Mako sits in shallow water, about half a meter deep. Joker had done well, dropping them in a spot with a straight route to Saren’s base, the path winding but direct, taking them past the last known location of the Salarian unit who’d sent the distress call. Alexis knows what this mission means—what capturing or stopping Saren here could mean for the galaxy.

“This is Commander Alexis'Shepard, Spectre for the Council, calling all STG units on Virmire,” she says, her voice even as she opens the comm channel. Only static answers. She frowns, repeating the message. “This is Commander Alexis'Shepard, Spectre for the Council, calling all STG units on Virmire.” Nothing but the crackle of dead air. Alexis grits her teeth. “Looks like we fight our way through.” She shifts the Mako into gear, sending it surging through the water, the tank leaving a wake behind as it cuts a path forward.

Tali, Wrex, and Garrus keep a lookout, their eyes sweeping their surroundings while Tali keeps her omni-tool connected to the Mako’s sensors, scanning for threats. From the Normandy’s scans, they know they’ll have to take out at least three anti-air stations blocking their approach to Saren’s base. If they manage to clear those, the Normandy will be able to land, bringing its firepower directly into the fight and giving them a real shot at destroying Saren’s operation.

They also know there’s a significant Geth presence—close to platoon strength at each anti-air station if the heat signatures Joker picked up are anything to go by. Alexis hopes they won’t run into too many Armatures and silently prays they won’t see a Colossus. They wouldn’t stand a chance in the open terrain, not with that kind of firepower bearing down on them. The Mako has its limits—it can’t take more than a couple of hits from an Armature, and a single shot from a Colossus would be enough to leave them stranded.

The Mako takes a sharp corner, Alexis keeping her foot on the accelerator, her hands steady as she manoeuvres. The first group of Geth comes into view just as they round the bend—caught off guard. She wastes no time, opening fire with the Mako’s forward machine guns, the rounds ripping through several Geth before they have a chance to react. The remaining Geth scatter, finding cover, their weapons turning on the Mako, energy bolts slamming into its armour.

Drones buzz overhead, moving too fast for the Mako’s main cannon to track, their smaller frames making them difficult targets. Alexis curses under her breath, her frustration mounting. The Mako’s weaponry isn’t built for this kind of fight. 

“Help me out here, Garrus?” she calls, her eyes on the drones darting through the sky.

Garrus doesn’t need more prompting. He leans out of one of the firing ports, his sniper rifle already raised. Alexis focuses on keeping the Mako steady, her fingers deftly adjusting the controls, taking out Geth on the ground while Garrus takes aim at the drones. He’s calm, precise, his breaths even as he pulls the trigger. Each shot hits its mark, tearing through the drones, sending them spiraling down in a burst of sparks and twisted metal.

Soon, only one Geth trooper remains, its optics glowing as it raises its weapon, but Alexis isn’t about to let it get another shot off. She slams her foot on the accelerator, the Mako lurching forward, ramming the Geth with a satisfying crunch. The synthetic flies backward, crashing into a rocky outcrop, crumpling into a heap of shattered metal and wires. Alexis doesn’t pause to savour the victory. She keeps moving, her focus on their destination—the first anti-air station.

The Mako rounds another corner, the anti-air defences coming into view—a network of turrets and Geth troopers spread across the clearing. The moment they spot the Mako, the Geth open fire, energy rounds streaking across the space between them. Alexis doesn’t waste time trying to pick them off individually. Instead, she targets the rocks and cliffs surrounding the Geth, the main gun blasting at the terrain. The explosions send chunks of rock tumbling down, crushing the Geth under their weight.

With the outer defences cleared, Alexis brings the Mako to a halt near the gate blocking their way—a thick, reinforced barrier far too sturdy to take down with the Mako’s weapons. They need to lower it from the inside.

Alexis hops out of the Mako, her boots splashing into the shallow water. She draws her rifle, her eyes on the gate. “We’re going in,” she says, her voice steady, glancing at her squad. Wrex, Garrus, and Tali nod, ready for whatever lies beyond.

A small side door stands as the only means of entry—an obvious choke point. Alexis knows the Geth will have it covered, knows they’ll be walking into a trap if they’re not careful. She edges up to the door, her rifle raised. She taps the side panel, and the door hisses open, immediately unleashing a storm of bullets. The doorway is a death trap, but Alexis expected this.

She takes a grenade from her belt, glancing at her squad, their expressions mirrored in determination. They each pull the pins from their own grenades, nodding to Alexis.

“Three… Two… One…”

They throw the grenades in rapid succession, the explosives arcing through the open doorway. The resulting blasts shake the ground, the shockwaves rippling outward. Without hesitation, Alexis moves in, her rifle up, firing in controlled bursts, sweeping the room. The grenades have taken out most of the Geth, their shattered remains littering the floor.

Wrex throws himself in front of Alexis just as one of the Geth she hadn’t noticed fires a rocket at her exposed back. The Krogan somehow manages to catch the projectile with his bare hands, wrestling with the engine on the weapon. With a massive amount of strength, he twists the missile in his hands, scorching his armour in the process, and redirects it straight back to its owner. The Geth explodes in a fireball, and Wrex blocks the flying shrapnel with his arm, shielding his face from the debris.

The room falls quiet as Tali overloads the final Geth, the synthetic collapsing to the ground with a buzz of electricity. “HA! Never get tired of fighting Geth,” Wrex bellows, his grin broadening. “Always the same tactics, and those don’t work against Krogan.” He chuckles as the squad moves forward, following Alexis as they climb a set of stairs toward an outer walkway.

Heavy resistance meets them as they reach the second floor—Geth troopers stretching down a long corridor towards what Alexis assumes are the anti-air cannon controls. Just as she catches sight of them, a blast door slams down, blocking her view. They’ll have to take down every one of these Geth before they can tackle whatever obstacle lies behind that door.

The squad is forced into cover, Geth blasts tearing into the area around them. Alexis quickly counts at least three Geth Primes among their ranks. She pokes her head out, almost losing it as a round whistles past, forcing her to duck back behind the low wall. Tali is furiously entering commands into her omni-tool, her voice muttering curses in Khelish as she struggles to find a way through the Geth defences.

“We need to get rid of those Primes!” Alexis can barely hear Tali’s shout over the cacophony of weapons fire. “They’re protecting the others! I can’t hack through their shields until they’re down!”

Tali’s right. These Geth are more organized than any they’ve faced before. Their tactics are coordinated, and they’re effectively using the Primes as bulwarks. Alexis knows that until they take those down, they don’t stand a chance of reaching the AA controls. She surveys the battlefield, each look over the cover nearly getting her shot.

The squad is on an exterior walkway, doors spaced evenly along each side that likely lead further into the station. The door to the control room is at the far end, along with what feels like an army of synthetics bent on keeping them from advancing. A frontal push would be suicide—the Geth have too much firepower, and there’s no way to make it across the exposed stretch without getting torn to shreds.

“Garrus, Wrex, hold them here! Tali, with me!” Alexis barks, her voice carrying over the din of combat.

Garrus and Wrex acknowledge her orders, continuing to lay down suppressive fire. Garrus, forced to switch from his sniper rifle to his assault rifle, fires in controlled bursts. He’s an excellent marksman, but the assault rifle lacks the raw stopping power of his sniper, and each Geth takes longer to drop than he’d like. Wrex faces a similar problem—his shotgun isn’t effective at this range, and the assault rifle feels less satisfying in his hands. His biotics, powerful as they are, require him to leave cover, something he can’t afford right now with the Geth’s concentrated fire.

Despite the odds, Garrus and Wrex manage to draw the Geth’s attention, keeping most of them focused on their position. Alexis knows it’s time for her and Tali to make their move.

Alexis takes a few deep breaths, bracing herself and diverting extra power to her shields. She nods at Tali, positioning the Quarian in front of her and pointing towards a door a few meters back. It’s their best shot—flank the Geth, take out the Primes, and then clear the path to the control room. Shepard taps Tali’s shoulder, signalling her to move.

They sprint for the door, Alexis’s shields lighting up with blue ripples as Geth fire connects with her back. They make it, slipping through the door and into cover on the other side.

The decision proves to be the right one. The walkway beyond is clear, stretching along the opposite side of the station. Alexis gives Tali a nod, both of them advancing quickly but cautiously, weapons raised. They keep moving, knowing that every second counts.

The Geth respond faster than Alexis expected—several troops appear through doorways along the path, their weapons blazing. Alexis and Tali answer with precision fire, dismantling the synthetics as they push forward. They move with determination, their weapons spitting fire and tearing apart the Geth that dare to stand in their way.

Suddenly, one of the Geth Primes steps into view, its massive frame taking up the hallway, the barrel of its weapon glowing menacingly. It fires, the blast slamming into the wall that Alexis and Tali dive behind, cracks spidering through the concrete under the force of the hit. The wall won’t hold—it’s only a matter of time before it gives way completely.

Alexis mind races, searching for a solution. The Prime is too powerful to take head-on in their current position. She glances at Tali, then at the grenades strapped to her belt. A plan forms—risky, with maybe a fifty percent chance of success, but better than waiting for the wall to crumble and leave them exposed. If it fails, well… at least she’ll go down fighting.

“Tali, get ready,” Alexis says, her voice tight, her eyes locked on the Prime’s position. Tali nods. Whatever happens next, they’re in it together.

Alexis rolls from cover, leaping to her feet and charging straight at the Prime. It fires, and Alexis just barely sidesteps the blast, the force of the projectile whooshing past her, close enough for her to feel the heat and force ripple through her suit. She closes in on the Geth even as it begins to back away, its optics flickering with an artificial recognition of her determined advance. Alexis keeps her focus sharp, her senses alive, sprinting forward as more Geth emerge from doorways on her left, attempting to take her down before she reaches their larger ally. Each one is swiftly dispatched—either by a precise shot from Tali's shotgun or a disruptive pulse from her omni-tool. The Quarian has moved further up behind Alexis, her eyes scanning for any sign of threat, keeping her commander covered while Alexis keeps the Prime's attention.

Alexis leaps from side to side, her movements unpredictable, her body a blur of kinetic energy that confuses the Prime's targeting systems. She knows it’s now or never, finally getting within striking distance. With a burst of strength, she propels herself into the air, her foot swinging around in a powerful arc, slamming into the side of the Geth's head. The blow leaves a significant dent in its reinforced armour plating. Not wasting a second, she seizes hold of an antenna with one hand and grabs the Geth's head with the other, managing to land directly on top of the towering synthetic—exactly where she wants to be.

Her forward momentum lets her plant both feet on the Prime's back with a heavy impact, the force nearly sending the machine toppling. The Geth struggles, its servos whirring as it fights for balance, dropping its weapon to the ground as it reaches up to grab at Alexis. She ducks and weaves around its grasping hands, releasing her grip on the Geth's head only to start slamming her fist into the exposed wiring at the base of its neck. Each strike sends sparks flying, the fragile components giving way beneath her relentless assault. She keeps punching, her breath quick and determined, until she manages to expose several critical wires. Without hesitation, she grabs them and yanks, tearing them free, revealing the inner workings of the synthetic.

More Geth pour into the room from the doors lining the wall, their optics glowing as they try to get a clear shot at the Human currently grappling with the Prime. Alexis shifts her body, using the Prime’s bulk as cover, twisting the large antenna to keep her movements erratic, unpredictable. She knows the Geth won't risk hitting the Prime. This unit is too valuable, not just for its size and firepower, but for the data it processes—programs that enhance all Geth units nearby, acting as a node that raises the efficiency of the whole collective. They can't afford to lose it, and Alexis knows it.

Tali continues to apply pressure, blasting the smaller Geth apart with her shotgun now that she is close enough for it to be effective. The smaller synthetics are too focused on Alexis, their processors failing to prioritize Tali, a mistake she fully exploits. Her fingers work quickly over her omni-tool, overloading circuits and sending destructive pulses directly into the Geth's systems at point-blank range. She feels the rush of adrenaline, her heart pounding, as she draws closer to Alexis. The Quarian can hardly believe they aren't targeting her—but she knows this oversight won't last. They have a narrow window to take advantage, and she intends to use every second of it.

Alexis draws her pistol, the weapon extending to full size even as she raises it to eye level. In one smooth motion, she shoves the barrel into the opening she created in the Prime’s neck, her finger pulling the trigger repeatedly, the gun firing round after round into the Geth's inner workings. The lights across its body flicker, the glow dimming, but still it refuses to fall. Alexis feels her pistol grow hot, the weapon overheating, releasing a hiss of superheated gas. She grits her teeth, holstering it, frustration building. Her fingers move deftly, slapping a new thermal clip into place, but she knows she has to change tactics.

She reaches for her shotgun, her fingers brushing the grip, but the Geth anticipates her next move. It jerks violently backward, the sudden motion causing Alexis to lose her footing. She slides down, her feet slipping from the Geth's back until she manages to brace herself on its hips. The position is precarious—less than ideal—but she has to make it work. The Prime begins to thrash, its body shaking side to side in an attempt to dislodge her. Alexis hangs on, her knuckles white as she clings to the antenna with one hand. She swings her other arm, her fist crashing into the side of the Prime's torso, denting the armour. She aims for the same spot again, hoping to weaken it enough for the next phase of her plan.

Another punch lands, and she feels the armour give slightly. Alexis allows herself a grim smile, the rush of determination pushing her onward. “Tali! Shotgun!” she calls, her voice cutting through the chaos. Tali responds instantly, drawing her pistol while tossing her shotgun towards Alexis. The weapon arcs through the air, and Alexis catches it mid-flight, her hands moving without hesitation. She positions the barrel above the weakened armour and pulls the trigger, the first shot punching through the damaged plating, the second blasting apart the wires and conduits beneath. She jams the barrel deeper, twisting it to get a better angle, then fires again.

The lights scattered across the Prime's body flicker before going dark. The central lamp on its head snuffs out, and the entire machine convulses. Alexis leaps off just in time as the Prime collapses forward, the massive frame crashing to the ground. She rolls into a crouch, her senses already focused on the next threat, and she fires at an advancing Geth, her shot finding its mark. She tosses Tali's shotgun back to her, smoothly pulling her own weapon from her hip and continuing to clear the area.

Meanwhile, Wrex and Garrus find themselves with an easier path forward. Nearly half of the Geth units are focused on Alexis and Tali, leaving gaps in their formation. Wrex's eyes gleam beneath his helmet, confidence surging through him. He knows they still have two Primes to deal with, but that’s nothing he can't handle—and if he gets close enough, he plans to rip them apart with his bare hands.

With a grunt of effort, Wrex emerges from cover, switching to his shotgun as he charges the nearest Geth. He moves with speed and purpose, closing the distance with powerful strides. One well-aimed shot to the head, and the synthetic crumples, now a perfect shield for the Krogan. He hefts the deactivated Geth, holding it in front of him as he pushes forward, the synthetic's body absorbing the incoming fire. Garrus seizes the opportunity to switch back to his sniper rifle, taking careful aim. He draws in a breath, each shot deliberate and precise, his rounds finding their targets. Geth units fall, their bodies clattering to the ground in a growing pile of smoking metal.

Wrex holds onto his impromptu shield until it's nearly falling apart in his grip. When it’s no longer of use, he hurls the carcass with all his might, the metallic body slamming into one of the Primes. The impact staggers the massive Geth, and Wrex uses the opening, firing a blast from his shotgun that forces the Prime back before diving into cover. The retaliation is swift—a high-caliber round slams into the cover Wrex hides behind, sending cracks through it. He growls, recognizing the power behind those shots; they’re designed to take down armoured vehicles. His cover won't last long under that kind of firepower.

Garrus, meanwhile, continues his precision shots, dismantling the smaller Geth with ruthless efficiency. He feels the heat building in his sniper rifle, the weapon soon overheating, forcing him to switch to his pistol. He lines up a shot on the Prime on the left, his aim steady, and squeezes the trigger. Three rounds find their mark, shattering half of the Geth's optics. The Prime pivots, its attention shifting to Garrus, ignoring Wrex entirely.

Before Garrus can react, the Prime lowers itself, its arms tucking in, and it charges. The speed is shocking—covering the distance between them in a matter of seconds. Garrus scrambles to raise his assault rifle, firing in a desperate attempt to stop the incoming machine. The Prime barrels into his cover, one knee driving straight through the structure, even as its shoulder slams into Garrus’s chest, sending him sprawling.

The impact leaves Garrus gasping, his rifle skidding away. He forces himself up, his body aching, just as the Prime turns towards him, preparing to strike again. With no other options, Garrus does the only thing he can—he charges forward, throwing himself at the Prime. The two crash to the ground, the force of Garrus's weight momentarily destabilizing the synthetic. He wastes no time, bringing his fists down on the Prime's already-damaged optics, each strike fueled by determination. He lands several solid blows before the Geth throws him off, but it’s enough. Garrus uses the reprieve to retrieve his assault rifle.

The Prime rises, its head swivelling, but Garrus knows it’s blind—he's destroyed its visual sensors. He unloads into its chest, staying out of reach as the machine swings its arms, trying in vain to hit him. The damage accumulates, each shot weakening the Prime until it finally drops to its knees. Garrus steps forward, planting his boot against its chest and shoving it back to the ground. He fires one final volley, the synthetic’s internal systems whining before shutting down completely.

On the opposite side, Wrex faces the last Prime. He deflects the Geth's blasts with his biotic barrier, focusing on getting close enough to finish it. He uses his strength to keep the Prime’s weapon at bay, managing to wrestle it out of its hands. With a triumphant roar, Wrex redirects the barrel skyward and fires, the shot disappearing into the sky. He rips the weapon free, tossing it aside before slamming his fist into the Prime’s chest, the impact powerful enough to lift the synthetic off its feet.

The Prime crashes to the ground, and Wrex doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the discarded weapon, turning it on its former owner. The blast tears through the Prime's chest, the synthetic's body erupting in an explosion of sparks and metal shards. Smoke rises from the wreckage as Wrex tosses the now-empty weapon aside, gripping his shotgun once more. His gaze sweeps over the battlefield, taking in the smoking remains of their enemies, his chest heaving from exertion. He lets out a satisfied grunt, ready for whatever comes next.

The battlefield grows quiet, the echo of the fighting slowly fading away. Alexis, Tali, Garrus, and Wrex stand amidst the wreckage, each one taking a moment to catch their breath. Alexis glances at her squad, her heart swelling with pride. They had faced overwhelming odds and emerged victorious, a testament to their skill and resilience. She gives a nod to Tali, then to Wrex and Garrus. “Let’s move,” she says, her voice carrying a quiet determination. “We’ve still got work to do.”

The squad regroups, moving forward as one, their weapons raised and their focus sharp. The mission isn’t over—but they’ve just taken a significant step toward victory. 

The squad regroups once all the Geth are dealt with, their eyes fixed on the door leading into the control room for the AA guns. Alexis leads them forward, her steps slowing as they approach. She knows there are a few Geth waiting on the other side, and the last thing she wants is for the synthetics to get the jump on them. She places herself next to the door controls, and the rest of her team crouches into ready positions, weapons poised to unleash devastation.

The door hisses open, and Alexis and her squad unleash a torrent of firepower, tearing through the Geth inside with brutal efficiency. The Geth stand no chance, their meagre defence evaporating under the coordinated assault. Compared to the Geth forces outside, these defenders are almost laughable—only five troopers to protect the last line of defence. Alexis strides into the room the moment the last Geth falls, her eyes quickly scanning for any additional hostiles. Finding none, she steps towards the console controlling the Geth AA cannons, her gaze narrowing at the blinking lights and complex interface.

Tali moves up beside her, her omni-tool already lighting up as she begins interfacing with the console. Her fingers work quickly, but then she hesitates, her head tilting slightly in thought. “Maybe we shouldn’t shut them down,” Tali says, glancing at Alexis.

Alexis looks at her, her expression puzzled. “You’ve got another idea?”

Tali nods, her eyes behind her visor gleaming with determination. “Destroy them. If the Geth have any forces we don’t get rid of before we reach Saren, they could come back here and reactivate the guns. That would leave the Normandy vulnerable.”

Alexis considers her words and then nods in agreement. “Good point. We destroy them.” She rises, reaching to her belt to remove several grenades, carefully placing them on the console. “Everyone, move out,” she orders, turning and marching away with confidence, her squad following swiftly after her.

“Garrus, if you’d do the honours?” Alexis calls over her shoulder as they reach a safe distance.

The Turian gives a quick nod, barely taking a second to aim with his sniper rifle before pulling the trigger. The shot hits its mark, and the grenades detonate in a spectacular explosion. The AA gun console erupts in a fireball, the heat so intense they feel it even from their position. When the flames subside, all that remains is a mass of twisted, flaming wreckage.

Alexis nods, satisfied with their work. They make their way back down towards the Mako, stepping over the remains of destroyed Geth. The destruction of the AA gun also opens the large gate that had been blocking their path forward, and Alexis wastes no time, climbing into the Mako's driver's seat. The wheels spin into gear, the tank-like vehicle ploughing through the shallow water that covers the ground, accelerating as she guides them towards their next target.

The journey towards the second AA gun emplacement is met with even more Geth resistance. The ground shakes as Armatures fire on them, and drones swarm overhead, peppering the Mako's shields with rapid-fire blasts. Alexis grits her teeth, manoeuvring the Mako with skill, using its small jets to dodge the heavy fire from the Armatures. The drones above are a constant nuisance, whizzing through the air and continuously chipping away at their defences. Alexis can’t afford to ignore them, but with the number of Geth on the ground, Garrus doesn’t have the opportunity to lean out and pick them off as he had before.

Improvisation is key to survival. Even with the Mako’s speed maxed out, Alexis devises a plan on the fly—one that could either save them or leave the Mako flattened. She takes a deep breath, operating the main gun with one hand while steering with the other. Alexis drifts the Mako into a wide circle, rounding up the drones above into a tight cluster. She pushes the vehicle to its limits, her eyes focused on the display, watching the drones as they follow in formation, almost like predators trailing their prey. The Mako’s main gun fires repeatedly, the shots narrowly missing as the drones zigzag to avoid the explosive rounds.

Satisfied that she’s gathered them into position, Alexis slams the Mako into reverse, the vehicle speeding backward. The heavy wheels crush Geth troopers in their path, the thuds reverberating through the cabin as she maintains fire on the cluster of drones. The Mako squeezes through a narrow gap between a rock pillar and a wall, Alexis timing her next move perfectly. She redirects the main gun towards the base of the pillar, her finger pressing down hard on the trigger. The shells hit home, the base of the rock pillar shattering into rubble, the structure collapsing sideways. The drones are caught in the cascade of falling stone, all but two crushed under the tons of debris.

Alexis swings the Mako around, the vehicle fishtailing as she slams the accelerator, leaving the remaining drones far behind.

The second AA gun comes into view, its emplacement heavily defended. Geth troops line the front, but they fall quickly under a volley of fire from the Mako's cannon. The balcony along the side of the structure becomes packed with Geth troopers, all of them firing down at the approaching vehicle. Alexis doesn’t hold back, her finger locked on the trigger, the Mako’s cannon roaring as it bombards the structure. Cracks spread across the walls, the balcony railing shattering as she maintains the relentless assault. A Prime steps into view, its heavy weapon trained on the Mako, firing several powerful shots that slam into their shields, nearly depleting them. Alexis doesn't let up, adjusting her aim and dismembering the Prime with a precise blast.

She finally ceases fire, the building ahead a smoking ruin. The structure looks ready to collapse under its own weight, its walls crumbling, but the AA gun itself remains intact. They’d have to deal with it up close, just as they had before. The gate blocking their path still stands, meaning they need to get inside to take care of the cannons first.

Alexis hops out of the Mako, her boots hitting the ground with purpose. She moves towards the building, her eyes scanning for any remaining Geth. A synthetic soldier lies on the ground, its chassis sparking as it tries to pull itself towards a discarded weapon, its legs shattered. Alexis approaches it without hesitation, raising her assault rifle and putting a round through its chest. The Geth’s light flickers and dies, its body slumping lifelessly.

She climbs over the rubble, reaching the control room entrance. With caution, she hits the button to open the door, her weapon raised. The room is empty of any further hostiles. It looks like the Geth had thrown every remaining unit at them in a last-ditch effort. Alexis steps inside, her eyes narrowing at the console. Her hand moves to her belt, her fingers brushing over the grenades before she stops herself. Destroying it like the last one could destabilize the entire structure, potentially blocking their route forward. She turns, glancing at Tali.

“Tali, how tough is Geth hardware? Could we destroy the console with just our weapons? I don’t want to risk bringing the whole place down and trapping us.”

Tali approaches, her gaze thoughtful as she examines the console. She crouches down, feeling along its edges until she finds a seam. With a deft flick of a flat tool from her omni-tool, she pops open a panel on the side, revealing the inner workings. She pulls her shotgun free, angling the barrel carefully into the exposed components. After a few moments, she nods, satisfied. She turns her face away, shielding her visor as she squeezes the trigger. The shotgun fires, the blast echoing through the small room. The console's screen flashes white for an instant before the lights blink out entirely. Small shards of metal and wiring spray out, but Tali had prepared, her reinforced shields deflecting the debris harmlessly. She wrenches the shotgun free, stowing it once more.

“Yeah. Easy,” she says, a smile visible behind her visor.

The squad follows Tali out, regrouping at the Mako. Just like before, the gate blocking their passage has lowered with the destruction of the AA gun's controls. Alexis accelerates through, her eyes scanning the horizon, wondering how much more resistance they’d face at the final checkpoint before Saren's base.

The journey to the final AA gun is eerily quiet compared to the earlier battles. The Geth presence is sparse, far fewer than Alexis expected. Something about it doesn’t sit right—there should be more defenders, not less, especially this close to Saren's stronghold. It feels like they’re being led into a trap. The drones are notably absent, and those they do encounter are scattered, barely a third of the force they faced earlier.

Alexis keeps her guard up, her senses on high alert as she drives the Mako onward. She knows better than to assume they’re in the clear—if anything, the lack of opposition makes her even warier. The final AA gun comes into view, and while there is some resistance from the Geth, it’s nothing compared to what they had faced previously. A few scattered shots from the emplacement, easily dodged by the Mako’s nimble movements.

Alexis brings the Mako to a stop, hopping out with her squad close behind. They storm the building, the Geth inside putting up a lackluster defense, their formation sloppy. It’s almost too easy, the squad tearing through the synthetics as they push deeper into the facility. They reach the control room without much effort, and Tali once again dismantles the console, her shotgun reducing it to a sparking mess of metal and wires. Alexis adds a grenade to the pile for good measure, tossing it into the room from the stairs, the explosion shredding what little was left of the Geth hardware.

With the final AA gun down, Alexis radios through to the Normandy, her voice steady. “Joker, you are good to land at the Salarian camp. Last defense tower is down.”

“Aye, aye, Commander. See you there,” Joker replies, his voice carrying a note of relief.

Wrex voices what they’re all thinking. “I don’t like this… it was too easy.”

Alexis nods, her brow furrowed. “Yeah, I feel the same. It’s too quiet. Hopefully, the Geth don’t have anything nasty waiting for us up ahead.” She casts a glance at Wrex, who grins, the eagerness in his eyes unmistakable.

“Or maybe they do,” he says, his voice filled with anticipation. “Depends on how you look at it.”

Alexis chuckles, shaking her head as she climbs back into the Mako. “Surprises are what keep us sharp, right?”

“Damn right,” Wrex replies, his laughter echoing in the cabin.

With her team in place, Alexis drives towards the Salarian camp, the anticipation of what’s to come hanging heavy in the air. The mission isn’t over—not by a long shot. But with her squad at her side, Alexis knows they’ll face whatever comes next, together.

~~~~

The Mako speeds through the final stretch, cresting a small hill before Alexis maneuvers it around a large rock. Relief washes over her as she spots the Normandy safely landed just outside the Salarian camp. She brings the Mako to a stop at the camp’s edge and jumps out, her boots splashing in the shallow water as she approaches. Her eyes narrow as she sees Ashley locked in a heated argument with one of the Salarians, her face flushed with frustration.

“And what are we supposed to do now? Twiddle our thumbs while Saren sends a goddamn army at us?” Ashley’s voice is sharp, her posture tense.

The Salarian, equally annoyed, narrows his eyes. “Stay put until we can come up with a plan,” he retorts, his words clipped. It’s obvious to everyone just how irritated he is with the Gunnery Chief.

Alexis strides into the middle of the two, her presence commanding immediate attention. Ashley turns to her, her voice desperate. “Can you talk some sense into them, Commander? We’re sitting ducks the longer we stay here.”

Alexis raises an eyebrow at Ashley, a silent signal to ease off, before turning her attention to the Salarian. “I’m Commander Alexis’Shepard,” she introduces herself, her voice even, though laced with authority. “I assume you’re in charge here?”

The Salarian straightens, clearly relieved to be speaking with someone of a higher rank. “I’m Captain Kirrahe, Third Infiltration Regiment STG.” He casts a quick glance towards Ashley, seemingly glad to shift his focus. Alexis has always found it easier to talk to non-humans compared to others in the Alliance—especially someone like Ashley, whose distrust of non-humans often came through in her demeanor. “You and your crew have just landed right in the middle of a hot zone. Every AA gun within ten miles has been alerted to your presence.”

Alexis nods, her gaze unwavering. “We took out a few on the way here. It’s the only reason we managed to land at all.” She pauses, considering the options for a moment before continuing. “Any suggestions on what we do while we wait for the heat to die down? We need to get closer to the base, and we can’t afford to stay here too long.”

Kirrahe nods, his expression growing serious. “We stay put until the Council sends the reinforcements we requested.”

Alexis can feel the weight of his words, and an uneasy suspicion begins to grow in her mind. Before she can voice it, Kaidan, standing nearby, speaks up, his tone blunt, “We are the reinforcements.”

The look of determination on Kirrahe’s face falters, his confidence fading almost instantaneously. “What?! You’re all they sent?!” He glances over at the couple squads of Marines, his eyes widening in disbelief. “I told them to send a fleet! One ship and a few soldiers aren’t enough to take this place out. And believe me, we’re going to want to wipe it out of existence.”

Alexis steps in quickly, preventing anyone else from escalating the situation. “Your transmission was almost completely scrambled,” she explains. “The Council didn’t have enough intel—they only knew you had located Saren’s base, and possibly his main headquarters. We were sent in to investigate.”

Kirrahe sighs deeply, frustration clear as he begins to pace. “We lost half of our men just ‘investigating’ this place.” His voice grows more intense, his pacing more agitated. “This is Saren’s main base of operations. He’s set up a gigantic research facility, but it’s crawling with Geth and fortified to hell. Even getting this close was a monumental task.”

“Is Saren here?” Alexis can’t help the flicker of hope that lights her eyes. If Saren was here, they could end this now.

Kirrahe shakes his head, extinguishing her optimism. “No. But his Geth are everywhere, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. We’ve intercepted communications that mention him. Our best guess is that he’s still here, but we’ve yet to confirm it. This is definitely his facility, though. There’s no doubt about that.”

Alexis frowns, the gears in her mind turning. “What exactly is he researching here? Why does he need a facility of this size?”

The Captain’s expression darkens, his voice grim. “He’s using it to breed an army of Krogan.”

Before Alexis has time to fully comprehend, Wrex shoves his way into the conversation, his presence imposing. “How is that possible?” he growls, his voice filled with disbelief and an underlying hint of anger.

Kirrahe takes a step back, visibly uneasy at the sudden proximity of the massive Krogan. He clears his throat, then continues, “According to our reconnaissance, Saren has discovered a cure for the Genophage.”

Alexis glances at Wrex, the rage on his face unmistakable. She knows she has to tread very carefully here—one wrong word could be disastrous. “With a Krogan army and the Geth, Saren would be practically unstoppable,” she says, trying to maintain a neutral tone. If anything, Wrex’s expression only grows more intense. She knows her words haven't eased his rage, but at least they haven’t made it worse.

“My thoughts exactly,” Kirrahe says, either oblivious to or ignoring Wrex’s hostility. “We must ensure this entire facility and its secrets are destroyed for good.”

Wrex suddenly steps forward, his face inches from Kirrahe’s, his voice a thunderous roar. “Destroyed? Yeah, that’s not happening! My people are dying. We need this cure, and we need it now.” He shoves the Salarian hard enough that Kirrahe stumbles back, struggling to maintain his balance.

Kirrahe glances at Alexis, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and defiance. “If that cure leaves this planet, the Krogan will become unstoppable once more. We can’t make the same mistake again.”

Wrex lunges forward, his voice booming as he shouts, “WE ARE NOT A MISTAKE!” The sheer force of his roar silences everyone in the vicinity.

Alexis quickly moves to intervene, but Wrex doesn’t give her the chance. He turns on his heel and marches away, his shotgun gripped tightly in his hands. The camp is left in stunned silence, everyone watching his retreating form.

Kirrahe is the first to speak, turning back to Alexis, his tone cautious. “Is he going to be a problem? We’ve already got enough angry Krogan to deal with. One more isn’t going to help.”

Alexis takes a deep breath, doing her best to suppress her own irritation at the Captain’s words. “He’ll be fine. I’ll talk to him.” Her voice is calm, though internally, she isn’t as sure. She knows the Genophage is a deep wound for all Krogan, but for Wrex, it seems especially personal. His rage isn’t just about the survival of his species—it’s something deeper, a raw and festering anger that burns brightly within him.

Kirrahe nods, though skepticism is evident on his face. “I’d appreciate that, Commander. My men and I need to rethink our plan of attack now that we know we’re not getting any further reinforcements. Can you give us some time?”

Alexis nods in agreement. “I’ll talk to Wrex in the meantime.” She turns her gaze toward the Krogan, spotting him a short distance beyond the edge of the camp, facing away, his massive form silhouetted against the distant horizon. This conversation would need to be handled delicately, or it could very easily end in disaster.

She motions to Tali and Garrus, who fall into step beside her as she moves toward Wrex. Her voice is low as she addresses them, her tone hushed. “I’m going to do my best to talk him down, but stay ready in case things get out of hand.”

Tali nods, her hand already on her sidearm. “We’re with you, Commander.”

Garrus gives a reassuring nod, his mandibles twitching slightly. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, but if it does, we’ll be ready.”

Alexis takes another deep breath, steeling herself as they approach Wrex. She has faced down armies, stood against overwhelming odds, but this—talking down a friend whose very soul was torn between hope and anger—might just be her most challenging mission yet.

The squad makes their way towards Wrex, but they’re barely halfway to him when the deafening roar of his shotgun echoes through the camp, a massive plume of water shooting up in front of him where the shell hits. Alexis can feel the tension radiating from him even from this distance. She’s never seen him this angry before. It makes sense—this might be the Krogan’s only shot at a cure—but Alexis knows they have to consider the bigger picture. Saren needs to be stopped, and destroying the facility is their best shot at crippling his plans.

But as they get closer, Alexis feels her own emotions surging in conflict. She can see herself in Wrex's position. If someone told her that there was a way to reclaim Rannoch, to bring her people back from the brink, she knows she’d fight tooth and nail to see it happen. The thought makes her chest tighten. She understands Wrex’s desperation, his anger. Part of her wants to stand with him, to fight for the chance to end the suffering of an entire species. But she can’t. Not like this. Not when the cost is so high.

Wrex hears them approaching, but he doesn’t bother to turn around. His voice carries across the camp, deep and full of barely restrained fury. “This isn’t right, Shepard. If there’s a cure for the Genophage, we can’t just destroy it. My people need it. I need it.”

Alexis steps closer, her voice calm but firm. “I get that. I really do. But we have to focus on the mission, Wrex. Saren is the enemy here. We can’t let him have any advantage, even if it means destroying everything he’s learned.” Regret laces her words, but she knows this is what has to be done.

Wrex finally turns to face her, his eyes boring into hers as he paces forward, each heavy step splashing in the water. “He’s the enemy? Between you and him, which one of you cured the Genophage, huh? And which one of you wants to destroy it?” His voice is laced with venom as he gestures between them. “Help me out here, Shepard. The line between friend and foe is getting real blurry from where I’m standing.”

Alexis feels a pang of hurt, sharper than she expects. She thought she’d earned Wrex’s trust, his loyalty. But now, none of that seems to matter. The possibility of a cure for his people has turned her into the enemy. She swallows hard, keeping her gaze steady. She knows what she has to say, but it doesn't make it any easier. “Wrex, this isn’t a cure—it’s a tool for Saren. If we let him use it, unleash the Krogan on the galaxy under his control, none of us will be around to see the benefits. We have to destroy it.”

Wrex growls, his massive frame closing the distance between them, looming over her. “And that’s a chance we should be willing to take! This is the fate of my entire people we’re talking about!” He steps even closer, his face inches from hers, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “I’ve been loyal to you, Shepard. Hell, you’ve done more for me than my own family ever did.” Before she can react, Wrex pulls his shotgun, levelling it at her chest. “But if I’m going to keep following you, I need to know we’re doing this for the right reasons.”

Alexis stands her ground, staring down the barrel of the shotgun. A bead of sweat rolls down her forehead, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her mind races, searching for a way to defuse the situation without anyone getting hurt. She takes a deep breath, her voice steady. “The right reasons? You think I want to destroy it? You think I want to destroy the only hope the Krogan have had in a thousand years?”

Her own words cut deep, the weight of them settling heavily in her chest. She wants that cure for the Krogan. She wants them to have a future, just like she wants a future for the Quarians. If someone held the key to Rannoch and told her she had to destroy it, she doesn’t know if she could. Her heart aches with the understanding of what she’s asking Wrex to do.

Wrex doesn’t move, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know, Shepard. There’s a lot of things people will do when everything’s on the line. How do I know what you want?”

Alexis meets his gaze, her voice rising with passion. “Do you want your people to be slaves to Saren? Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen if this cure gets out. How do you know he hasn’t twisted it, turned every Krogan into a mindless servant?”

Wrex’s eyes blaze, and he takes a step forward, his voice roaring with fury. “It would be better than millions of Krogan children not even taking their first breaths, dying in their mother’s arms before they even have a chance!” His words echo across the rocky terrain, the raw pain in his voice cutting through the tension.

Alexis takes a deep breath, her own voice rising to meet his. “What, so you’d rather every Krogan be a puppet for Saren? What kind of life is that, Wrex? I’ll tell you—it’s not a life. It’s a meaningless existence, and you’d be putting more evil into the galaxy than there already is.”

Wrex’s voice is a roar, filled with pain and rage. “At least we’d be alive! Instead of dwindling away into nothing! This was our prize for saving all of you—being neutered and driven towards extinction!”

Alexis doesn’t back down, her own voice filled with determination, though her heart clenches with every word. “Is that what you really think, Wrex? If there was any other way—any possible way—we could get this cure without giving Saren an army, I’d do it. But this isn’t the cure your people need.”

“Bullshit!” Wrex shouts, his voice trembling with emotion.

Alexis suddenly changes her approach, her voice cracking with the weight of her own emotions. “Do you honestly think if Saren had a way to stop the Geth, and reclaim Rannoch, I wouldn’t be standing right where you are now?” she yells, her voice raw, her Quarian accent on full display not hidden like she still keeps it around the rest of the crew. “Both of our people are barely hanging on. The difference is the Genophage was forced on your people. If I could give you a cure, I would. But this isn’t a cure, Wrex—not in the way that matters.”

She steps forward, pressing her helmet against the muzzle of Wrex’s shotgun, her voice dropping to a whisper. “If you think so little of me, then pull the trigger. End it right now. Let Saren have his army. Let every Krogan, present and future, be a tool for him to wipe out everyone in this galaxy.” Her voice rises again, her words a challenge. “Pull the trigger, Wrex! Do it!”

For a long, agonizing moment, Wrex doesn’t move. His eyes are locked on hers, the shotgun trembling slightly in his grip. Alexis can almost see the conflict raging inside him—the pain, the anger, the doubt. She can feel the weight of what she’s asking him, the impossible choice between his people’s future and their freedom. Finally, something shifts in his gaze. The hostility fades, replaced by a deep, weary sadness. He lowers the shotgun, his voice a low growl. “No. We were tools for the Council once. They used us, and then they neutered us. Saren won’t be any different. He’ll use us until there’s nothing left.”

Alexis feels the tension leave her body, her shoulders slumping in relief as she watches Wrex’s arms drop to his sides, the shotgun pointing at the ground. “All right, Shepard. You’ve made your point.” His voice is quieter now, tinged with resignation. “I don’t like this, but I trust you enough to follow your lead.” He begins to turn away, but stops, looking back at her, his eyes hardening. “Just one thing—when we find that Turian bastard, I want his head.”

Alexis meets his gaze, her voice steady. “Deal.” She watches as Wrex walks away, his heavy footsteps echoing across the rocky terrain. Once he’s out of earshot, Alexis releases a long, shaky breath. She reaches up, rubbing at the spot on her helmet where she’d pressed it against the shotgun.

Before she can fully compose herself, she feels a weight slam into her back, almost knocking her off balance. “You bosh'tet!” Tali’s voice is thick with emotion as she wraps her arms around Alexis from behind. “Why would you do that?”

Alexis turns, her arms wrapping around Tali in return, holding her close. “Wrex is our friend, Tali. Can you honestly say you wouldn’t react the same if Saren was offering a way to reclaim Rannoch?” Her voice is soft, her tone soothing. “I know I would. I also know that any solution offered by Saren would just lead to more suffering. Wrex needed to see that. He needed someone to help him see beyond the immediate answer.”

Tali pulls back slightly, her eyes shining behind her visor. “Fine. You’re right. I can’t say I wouldn’t react the same way. But you’re still a bosh'tet,” she mutters, her voice thick with both relief and frustration.

Alexis smiles, her hand resting on Tali’s shoulder before she turns and makes her way back to Captain Kirrahe. The Salarian is waiting for her, his expression one of barely concealed relief, his eyes wide. “Thank you for talking the Krogan down, Commander,” he says, his voice sincere. “The assault on Saren’s research facility will be difficult enough as it is.”

“Assault? I assume you’ve got a plan then,” Alexis asks, her voice carrying a mixture of scepticism and curiosity. 

The Salarian nods, a steely resolve in his expression. “After a fashion, yes. We can convert our ship’s drive core into a twenty-kiloton ordnance. Crude, but it should be more than enough to wipe out Saren’s base.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his tone clinical. “We would drop it from orbit, save the whole need for an assault, but the AA guns will rip any ship that gets close enough to shreds. We’ll need to place it in a specific location if this plan is going to work.”

“And that is?” Alexis tilts her head, her mind already spinning through the logistics.

“The bomb must be taken to the far side of the facility. Your ship can drop it off, but we’ll need to infiltrate the base, disable all the AA guns, and remove any ground forces before even attempting that,” Kirrahe explains, his voice carrying the weight of the challenge ahead.

Alexis frowns, her brow furrowing. She can see a glaring hole in the Salarian’s plan, one she sincerely hopes they’ve already considered. “Their numbers will be far too great for us to use a head-on assault. They’ll cut us down before we even get close.”

Kirrahe gives a sharp nod, acknowledging her concern. “True enough. But I think we can work around that. I’ll divide my men into three teams and hit the front of the facility hard. While we’ve got their attention, you can sneak your ‘shadow’ team in the back.”

“That’s a suicide mission. Your team will be slaughtered,” Alexis says, her voice tinged with disbelief. She’s astounded that he’d even consider such a plan. He’s willing to sacrifice everyone under his command just to ensure this mission has a chance of succeeding. 

A grim smile creases Kirrahe’s features, and he looks at her with determination. “We’re tougher than we look, Commander. But, it’s true. I don’t expect many of us to make it out alive.” The smile fades, replaced by a hardened resolve. “And that makes what I’m about to ask even more difficult. I need one of your men to accompany me. To help coordinate the teams.”

The request sends Alexis into silence, her stomach twisting at the thought. The plan is solid—she knows that much. Even if it involves sacrificing the Salarians, it’s the best shot they have. But sending one of her own crew with them? The idea settles in her gut like a stone. She knows it’s necessary, but the weight of it makes it no easier to bear. “Can I have a minute with my crew?”

“Of course, Commander, but we do need to get moving. Saren won’t leave us alone much longer,” Kirrahe says, stepping away to allow her some space.

Alexis walks away, gathering her crew around her, her heart heavy with the decision she’s about to make. Before she even has a chance to say anything, Kaidan steps forward, his voice strong. “Captain Kirrahe’s right, Commander. We need both teams at their best if we’re going to pull this off. I volunteer.”

Ashley interrupts immediately, her tone firm, her eyes set with determination. “Not so fast, LT. Shepard will need help to arm the nuke. I’ll go with the Salarians.”

Kaidan narrows his eyes at her, his tone clipped. “With all due respect, Gunnery Chief, it’s not your place to decide.”

Ashley throws up her hands, exasperation clear in her voice. “Why is it whenever someone says, ‘with all due respect,’ they really mean ‘kiss my ass’?”

Alexis throws both of them a hard look, her voice cutting through their argument like a blade. “And with all due respect to both of you, it’s neither of your place to decide.”

She thinks through her options quickly, her mind racing. Wrex is out of the question—not after what just happened. His rage over the Genophage makes him unreliable in this situation, and the distrust the Salarians have for Krogan only complicates things further. Garrus is a capable soldier, but Alexis doubts he’s accustomed to leading troops into battle. Not when he doesn’t know the men personally. Tali is too valuable inside the facility; Alexis needs her expertise close, and she doesn’t want her that far from her. Liara… Liara isn’t ready for something like this. Not yet.

That leaves Kaidan and Ashley—the only two who volunteered. Both of them are capable, both skilled enough to lead. Ashley has proved her worth time and again, her ability to command undeniable. But Kaidan… she’s known Kaidan for years. They’ve been through hell together, and she trusts him to watch her back and with command of the Normandy's Marines. She’s seen him take the lead, push through impossible odds. She knows what he’s capable of. And she knows who she has to choose.

Alexis looks Kaidan in the eyes, her voice steady, though she feels the weight of her decision pressing down on her. “Kaidan, go with the Salarians. Take a squad of the Marines with you as well.” Ashley opens her mouth to argue, but the look Alexis gives her is enough to silence her. Alexis turns back to Kirrahe, her decision made. “Lieutenant Alenko will accompany your team, Captain.”

Kirrahe nods, approval in his gaze. “Very good. I will have the ordnance loaded onto the Normandy and brief your crew on its detonation sequence. Anything else before we move out, Commander?”

Alexis shakes her head, her voice steady. “Nothing.”

“Excellent. Then, if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare my men,” Kirrahe says, walking away to ready his team for the mission ahead.

As Kirrahe walks away, Kaidan turns to Alexis and Ashley, a small, almost wistful smile on his lips. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back, Commander. You too, Chief.”

Alexis grins, though the sadness lingers behind her eyes. “Wouldn’t let you miss out on it, Lieutenant. Your reactions are half the fun.” She forces a lightness into her voice, a way to keep the situation from feeling too heavy.

Ashley punches Kaidan lightly in the shoulder, her expression softening. “We’ll be fine. Shepard will see us through.”

Kaidan looks down for a moment, then back up at Alexis, his gaze steady. “Bit weird going under someone else’s command. Too used to yours, I guess, Commander.”

Alexis nods, her expression softening, a flicker of pride in her chest. “Don’t sound so down, Kaidan. We’ll see you on the other side.”

“I know.” He straightens up, saluting her, a formality that carries so much more in this moment. “It’s been an honour serving with you all these years, Commander.”

Alexis returns the salute, her eyes locking with his. “You too, Lieutenant.” She turns to the rest of the assembled squad, her voice strong, though a hint of emotion lingers beneath it. “We’ve got our work cut out for us. Strike them hard, strike them fast. We’ve got Saren cornered. We just need to make sure that bastard doesn’t get away. Fight like I know you all can, and we’ll finish this here and now. Keep your eyes open, watch each other’s backs, and we’ll all come out of this in one piece.”

Every member of the squad salutes her, their expressions hardened with resolve. Alexis returns the gesture, her voice carrying a note of finality. “Let’s move out. Tali, Wrex, and Garrus, you’re with me. Ash and Liara, make sure that bomb is ready to deploy when we need it. Get it into position as soon as I radio through. You will have command of the second squad of marines to defend the bomb, if we get pulled off target.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ashley and Liara reply in unison, nodding at each other. Alexis watches as they head off in the direction of the Normandy, Ashley’s hand resting briefly on Liara’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

Alexis turns to her chosen squad and nods to Kaidan, who moves to join the Salarians. She can see the determination in his stride, the way he squares his shoulders as he approaches Kirrahe. Kaidan will give everything to this mission—she knows that. And it’s that knowledge that makes this so difficult.

Captain Kirrahe stands in front of his assembled men, his eyes scanning slowly across the line, meeting each soldier's gaze with unwavering intensity. He holds each one’s eyes for several seconds before moving on, as if to silently communicate his confidence in them. “You all know the mission and what is at stake. I have come to trust each one of you with my life, but I have also heard murmurs of discontent. I share your concerns.” His voice is steady, yet charged with purpose as he begins to pace back and forth along the front line, each word weighed heavily with meaning. “We are trained for espionage. We would be legends, but the records are sealed. Glory in battle is not our way.”

He pauses, letting his words sink in before continuing, his eyes burning with resolve. “Think of our heroes: the Silent Step, who defeated a nation with a single shot. Or the Ever Alert, who kept armies at bay with hidden facts. These giants do not seem to give us solace here, but they are not all that we are.” His voice grows louder, more fervent, as he stops pacing and turns to face the entire squad. “Before the network, there was the fleet. Before diplomacy, there were soldiers!”

Kirrahe's voice echoes off the surrounding rocks, his conviction reverberating through the camp. “Our influence stopped the Rachni, but before that, we held the line! Our influence stopped the Krogan, but before that, we held the line!” Alexis can hear Wrex grind his teeth slightly at that particular phrase, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes focused on Kirrahe. The Captain's voice reaches its crescendo, carrying his words with a fervour that leaves no room for doubt. “Our influence will stop Saren! In the battle today, we will hold the line!”

Shepard didn’t think she’d ever heard a Salarian battle-cry before, but she’s certainly hearing one now. The Captain’s men roar their readiness to the sky, raising their weapons in salute. Their collective yell sends a shiver through her, even as they turn and march away, their formation tight, their movements full of purpose. Kirrahe remains behind for a moment longer, watching them go.

He turns back to Alexis, nodding curtly. “Good luck, Commander. I hope we will meet again.” His eyes hold a sincerity, a quiet understanding of what this mission may cost them all. And then he too turns, marching off with a resolute determination, Kaidan following close behind with the Salarians.

Alexis feels a pang of emotion as she watches Kaidan walk away, but she swallows it down, burying it beneath layers of focus. There’s no time for second-guessing now. The mission takes precedence over everything else.

Tali moves to Alexis’s side, her gaze following the Salarians as they disappear into the distance. “I think the Captain is better at giving speeches than you are, Shepard,” she says, her voice carrying a hint of teasing levity, trying to lighten the tension in the air. “Is it too late to go with him instead?”

Alexis raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mock expression of hurt. “That hurts, Tali. Hurts deep.” She pauses, her eyes twinkling as she turns to face the Quarian. A smirk tugs at her lips, and she adds, “Besides, he may be better at speeches, but I’m way hotter.” She gives Tali a playful wink.

Tali’s flustered reaction is almost immediate, her posture stiffening slightly, and Alexis can just make out the blush beneath the glow of her helmet. Alexis chuckles softly, turning on her heel and heading towards the Mako, her voice rising over her shoulder, “Let’s get this show on the road, people. We’ve got a genocidal Turian to kill.”

Wrex snorts, a gravelly laugh rumbling from his chest as he moves to join her. Garrus smirks, his mandibles twitching in what Alexis knows is his equivalent of a smile, and Tali shakes her head, her flustered expression replaced by determination. They move with purpose, the weight of the mission pressing on them, but the camaraderie they share makes that weight bearable. 

They climb into the Mako, Alexis taking her position at the controls. She takes a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline start to course through her veins, the familiar rush that comes before a fight. She glances at her team, each one ready, weapons at the ready, faces set with resolve. This is it. The mission that could change everything. Alexis tightens her grip on the controls, her eyes narrowing in determination. No matter what happens next, they’ll hold the line—and they’ll make damn sure Saren pays for everything he’s done.

Chapter 11: XI

Summary:

Saren's base on Virmire. A choice is made.

Notes:

Oh, this a long one! I hope you enjoy the climax of the Virmire mission!

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XI

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

It had only taken a short time for Alexis's squad to reach the rear of Saren’s facility. They’d been forced to leave the Mako behind; the tank was far too bulky for the winding, narrow jungle path that offered the quickest route to their destination. In truth, Alexis was almost relieved to abandon it. Her trigger finger was itching for real combat, and the Mako just wasn’t cutting it. Besides, confronting Saren face-to-face would be far more satisfying than blowing him up from a distance with the tank’s main gun. At this point, it was almost personal. She needed to look that smug Turian in the eyes when she ended this.

Instead, Kaidan and the Salarians had taken the vehicle to aid them in their assault on the front of the facility. A far better use of the Mako's power, Alexis thought. If their plan worked, the frontal attack would pull the bulk of Saren’s forces away from the rear, leaving their infiltration path relatively undefended.

Alexis led her team through the dense foliage, each step carefully calculated to make as little noise as possible. The thick underbrush clawed at their armour, the humid jungle air pressing down on them. The entire area was alive with distant echoes of the battle on the other side of the facility—explosions and shouts mixed with the mechanical clatter of Geth weaponry.

She held up a fist, halting their advance. Garrus, Tali, and Wrex stopped behind her, weapons raised and ready. Alexis pushed aside a curtain of thick leaves, revealing their surroundings. The path ahead was a raised walkway, winding its way toward Saren's facility before hooking around a massive rock. Geth patrols were posted at regular intervals—silent sentinels watching for any intruders. Alexis’s eyes narrowed at the sight of a Geth Prime stationed at the far end of the walkway, its imposing frame an undeniable challenge.

This was going to be a problem.

The raised path offered minimal cover, and what little there was would only withstand a few shots from a Prime's cannon before crumbling. They needed to be fast, ruthless, and absolutely precise if they wanted to take the Prime down before it could decimate them.

There was only one option—rush them. Hit hard and hit fast. Alexis turned to her squad, outlining the plan swiftly. Wrex’s lips curled into a grin at the idea—charging headlong into danger was right up his alley. Tali looked hesitant, but her gaze flicked between Alexis, Wrex, and Garrus before she finally nodded. Garrus just let out a long breath, nodding, already accustomed to the madness of Shepard's plans. He knew she’d pull them through, even if it was by the skin of their teeth.

“Alright, ready up,” Alexis whispered, raising her fist to signal the countdown. They all tensed, adrenaline starting to pump, breaths slowing in anticipation. She counted down from five—fingers folding into a fist, each number bringing them closer to the moment of action.

When the last finger curled in, Alexis’s voice cut through the thick jungle air, “GO, GO, GO!”

She and Wrex erupted from the undergrowth like unleashed forces of nature, the Krogan glowing with biotic energy as they tore down the path. The air was instantly filled with gunfire. Alexis's shotgun barked with each pull of the trigger, her body moving with purpose, each step measured yet driven by fury. She swung her Omni-blade in a wide arc, slicing through a Geth trooper that barely had time to register her presence before it crumpled to the ground. Wrex was unstoppable, roaring as he grabbed a Geth mid-charge, hurling it into another with bone-shattering force.

Tali kept close behind them, her eyes darting constantly between her squadmates and the threats they faced. She fired her shotgun at any Geth that dared to take aim at the charging Commander or Krogan, her weapon’s heat warnings flashing angrily on her HUD. The barrel was almost too hot to handle, but Tali didn’t let up. When one of the synthetics got too close, she rammed it with the butt of her shotgun, knocking it back just enough to blast it apart at point-blank range.

Garrus, only a few steps behind the others, dropped to one knee, his sniper rifle already up and aligned. He squeezed the trigger, each shot precise and methodical. He didn’t have time to enjoy the kill, transitioning seamlessly from one target to the next, each Geth head reduced to nothing but fragments of metal and sparks. As Alexis, Wrex, and Tali pushed further down the walkway, the remaining Geth started to turn on Garrus, their gunfire bearing down on him. He reinforced his shields with his omni-tool, biting back the pain as a round from a Geth punctured his armour, the searing pain focusing his thoughts. He growled low, taking aim and eliminating the offending Geth with a cold efficiency. The pain only served to sharpen his aim, each shot delivering swift retribution.

Alexis sidestepped a blast from the Prime, her feet barely losing pace. She glanced around, quickly assessing the canyon they found themselves in—towering walls of stone loomed above them, enclosing them in a narrow space. She needed something drastic, something that would take the Prime down quickly. A smile crept across her face, an idea taking shape.

“WREX, GO LOW!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Wrex grunted in acknowledgement, “GOT IT!”

They were only meters away from the Prime, and Alexis sprang into action. She leapt into the air, her boots hitting the rock wall, propelling her forward in a feat of gymnastics.

“NOW!” she screamed, twisting her entire body mid-air to launch herself directly toward the Prime.

Wrex, already moving, dropped his shoulder, slamming into the Prime's legs, his biotics amplifying his strength. He locked his arms around its metallic limbs, lifting the massive synthetic off the ground in a display of raw power. The Prime’s sensors flickered, unable to determine which enemy to target. Before it could decide, Alexis was on it.

She grabbed hold of the Prime’s upper frame, her shotgun pressed against the back of its chassis. She pulled the trigger repeatedly, each blast tearing apart the synthetic’s inner workings, her grip relentless. Sparks flew, the Prime's body convulsing under the onslaught. The armour buckled, and Alexis twisted her body, landing on both feet with a powerful pull, her armour’s servo’s groaning in protest—ripping the Prime clean in two. 

Wrex wasn't done. The Krogan bellowed as he grabbed a half of the Prime by its ankles, swinging them like makeshift clubs into another Geth that dared to approach, the force of the impact reducing it to rubble. He let the half fall, tossing it aside with a dismissive grunt.

Garrus sprinted down the walkway to join them, his foot slamming into a Geth that had somehow clawed its way back up. He spun smoothly, drawing his pistol and firing a shot into the fallen synthetic, ensuring it wouldn’t be getting up again.

The squad regrouped, but Alexis didn’t give them time to catch their breath. “Move!” she ordered, her voice sharp, pushing them onward. Time was critical—each second they wasted was another second Saren had to slip away. She led them down the winding walkway, her assault rifle raised and ready, her instincts telling her that more Geth were lying in wait.

She didn’t have to wait long for confirmation. The second they rounded the corner, the air exploded with gunfire. Alexis didn’t hesitate—she broke into a sprint, her finger squeezing the trigger, her shots tearing through the Geth ahead. Bullets slammed into her shield, the impact almost making her stumble, but she powered through. She slid into cover, unleashing a flurry of bullets to suppress the Geth entrenched ahead of her.

Wrex was already charging, his massive frame barreling past Alexis. His shoulder hit the first Geth in his way, and the synthetic was thrown to the ground, crushed beneath his sheer weight and power. The Krogan didn’t stop, tearing through their line like a battering ram, forcing the Geth to focus all their firepower on him.

Tali and Garrus advanced behind Wrex, their weapons blazing. They worked in perfect tandem—Tali taking down the Geth that Wrex had stunned, her shotgun barking with each pull of the trigger, while Garrus used his assault rifle to provide covering fire, picking off the synthetics that tried to regroup.

Wrex reached the small outpost ahead—a makeshift Geth fortification. The Geth entrenched there turned their full attention to him, forcing him to dive behind a crumbling wall for cover. The sheer amount of fire was too much, even for him. He growled, frustrated but undeterred.

Alexis, Tali, and Garrus joined him, sliding into cover beside the Krogan. Alexis peeked over the wall, quickly assessing the Geth’s position. They were on a raised platform, and the only way up was a narrow ramp on the far side of the structure—exposed and dangerous. Charging up it would be suicide. They needed a new approach.

“Anyone got any ideas?” Alexis's voice cuts through the chaos, her eyes darting between the crumbling cover and the seemingly impenetrable outpost above them. The Geth are entrenched, and the squad is pinned down. They need a way forward, and fast

For a moment, there is silence, the rapid staccato of Geth gunfire the only sound echoing through the canyon. Then Garrus's voice pierces through the din, laced with urgency, “How many grenades do we have?” He doesn't wait for an answer, his eyes already scanning the faces of his comrades. “A few should be enough to collapse the whole structure. Bring the whole thing down on them.”

Alexis quickly assesses the surroundings, her eyes locking onto the supporting beam buried deep into the ground, its base already showing signs of wear. The thought sparks in her mind—if they can blow that support, they can bring the entire structure crashing down, burying the Geth beneath tons of debris. “That just might work,” she says, her voice sharpening with determination. “Enough explosives will do it for sure. Let's make it happen.”

Each of them pulls out two grenades, the sharp clink of them being primed echoing against the roar of gunfire. “On three,” Alexis orders, adrenaline tightening her grip on the grenades. “One… Two… THREE!”

In a synchronized motion, all four of them pop up from behind cover, each tossing their grenades in rapid succession. The Geth, sensing the threat, turn their guns on the squad, but their reactions come too late. The grenades arc through the air, bouncing across the ground before piling up at the base of the support beam.

Alexis instinctively ducks back down, bracing for the blast. The next few seconds stretch on forever, her heart pounding in sync with the rapid ticks of the countdown. She counts down in her head, eyes closed for just a split second—then the world erupts. A booming explosion shatters the air, the ground trembling beneath them. She can feel the shockwave rattling through her armour, almost lifting her from her crouched position.

Without hesitation, Alexis shoulders her assault rifle and vaults over their cover, charging forward even as the structure begins to groan under the strain, the supporting beam reduced to crumbling shards. She fires round after round, taking out the Geth who scramble in disarray, their once sturdy position becoming their deathtrap. The ceiling above them buckles, chunks of concrete and metal falling down, the walls splintering as massive cracks race outward from the epicentre of the blast.

Alexis moves with precision, her focus unbroken as she closes the gap between her squad and the remaining Geth. The massive structure lets out a final groan, a deep sound of surrender as it comes crashing down, dragging the synthetics with it. Dust billows into the air, shrouding the battlefield in a thick cloud. Metallic limbs jut out from the rubble, twitching as the last bits of life flicker from the buried Geth units.

Wrex, Garrus, and Tali follow close behind, each taking careful steps over the fallen debris. The groaning of half-crushed machines is the only sound among the dying echoes of the collapse. Wrex stomps on a still-moving piece of Geth plating, silencing it with a crunch underfoot.

“Keep your eyes sharp,” Alexis warns, her voice low as she scans the ruins. The air is filled with the acrid scent of burning circuits, and the crackle of failing energy cores is the only remaining sound. The squad moves with purpose, their eyes darting left and right, fingers poised on triggers, ready to deal with anything that might emerge from the wreckage.

After a few tense moments, the sounds of mechanical life fade entirely, replaced only by the distant chaos of the ongoing battle at the front of Saren's facility. Alexis leads them forward, her jaw set in determination. There is no time to waste.

“Lieutenant, status report,” Alexis calls, her voice steady despite the tension.

Kaidan's voice crackles through the comms, barely audible over the roar of battle on his end. “We've begun our assault. Facing heavy resistance, but no casualties so far. Can't tell if this is everything Saren has, but it sure as hell feels like it. We're taking a beating, but we'll hold the line.”

Alexis clenches her jaw, pride swelling in her chest for her team. “Understood, keep me posted. We're moving in now.”

“Will do, Commander.” The comms go silent, the weight of what they are all doing settling over her.

The squad breaks into a jog, their footfalls muffled by the thick underbrush. The closer they draw to the facility, the sparser the Geth resistance becomes. It is almost eerie, the silence that replaces the earlier chaos. Alexis's eyes narrow—it makes sense. The bulk of the Geth are likely diverted to the front lines, leaving the back door vulnerable.

Alexis holds up a fist, bringing the team to an abrupt halt. She moves forward, just enough to peer around the edge of the rocky outcrop that shields them. There it is—Saren's fortress looms ahead, a monolith of steel and stone, its back entrance just as the Salarian's scans had indicated. Guarding the door are a group of Geth soldiers, and at least half a dozen Krogan, all on high alert, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of an intruder.

These Krogan aren't like Wrex. Alexis can tell by their posture, their expressions. They lack his intelligence, his cunning. They are fighters, but they are tools—Saren's tools. She turns back to her squad, her eyes locking on each of them.

“Tali, Garrus, cover us,” she whispers. Her eyes then shift to Wrex, the Battlemaster meeting her gaze with a grin that speaks of his eagerness. “I'll take the left, you take the right.”

Wrex's grin widens, his voice a low rumble of amusement. “Got it.”

Alexis waits, her muscles coiling in anticipation. She glances at the others, their eyes sharp, their bodies poised for action. She holds her breath, feeling the electric tension of the moment. “On my mark… NOW!”

They move as one, bursting from cover and sprinting towards their targets. Tali and Garrus follow close behind, their weapons blazing, pinning the guards down and forcing them into disarray.

The Geth attempt to rally, but it is already too late—Alexis closes in, her assault rifle barking out a steady stream of fire. The closest Krogan snarls, staggering back as the bullets impact his armour, each shot driving him further off balance. Alexis reaches him in moments, her rifle swinging down, her omni-blade igniting in a brilliant orange arc. She drives it deep into the crack she has created in his armour, feeling the resistance give way as she slices through. With a fierce shout, she yanks the blade free and follows up with a powerful kick, her boot driving into his chest. The Krogan falls back, his body hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

Wrex, meanwhile, reaches his target. He is a force of nature, barreling into his opponent with the unstoppable momentum of a charging bull. The other Krogan barely has time to react before Wrex drives him back, his massive arms wrapping around his enemy's legs, lifting him clean off the ground. The lesser Krogan struggles, his fists slamming against Wrex's back, but it is like hitting a stone wall.

With a roar, Wrex drives his opponent into the base's wall, the impact reverberating through the structure. He throws a devastating punch, the bones in the enemy's jaw shattering with a sickening crunch. Wrex doesn't stop. He keeps swinging, each punch brutal and efficient, breaking bone and armour alike until the other Krogan is barely able to stand. Wrex shifts his grip, lifting the smaller fighter high over his head. The Krogan's eyes widen in fear, his legs kicking in a futile attempt to escape. Wrex bellows, bringing his knee up as he brings his opponent down, the sickening crack of a spine breaking echoing through the air.

The defeated Krogan crumples to the ground, his eyes wide with shock, unable to move. Wrex looks down at him, his voice dripping with contempt. “You are no Krogan. You are nothing.” He levels his shotgun, ending the soldier's life with a final, thunderous blast.

The rest of the guards fall soon after, overwhelmed by the coordinated assault. Alexis doesn't let her guard down, her eyes sweeping over the area, her rifle still raised. “Regroup,” she orders, her voice clipped, her eyes narrowing at the door ahead.

The squad gathers around her, their breathing heavy but controlled, their eyes sharp and focused. Alexis leads them forward, each step deliberate, cautious. This door—this is their entry point into Saren's base. 

Tali hacks through the terminal locking the door in record time, Alexis marching through and quickly scanning her new surroundings. They are still outside, but only have a short walkway before a door that she is sure will lead inside. She motions for them all to move forward, everyone at the ready for any surprise attack.

As expected, Geth and Krogan make their presence known as they stride from the base, firing on the squad as they move closer. Alarms instantly start blaring over speakers in the walls, announcing their presence to the entire facility.

Alexis and Garrus fire straight back at their enemy, forcing many of them into cover. Wrex and Tali crouch and move further on, just dodging the bullets flying over their heads. As soon as they are in cover, Alexis and Garrus begin to step forward slowly, both seamlessly switching targets as soon as their current one goes down from their attack. Both of their assault rifles overheat at the same time, perfectly copying each other's movements as they slam in a new thermal clip.

Tali and Wrex get close enough that their shotguns will work properly, nodding at each other in preparation. They leap over their respective covers, Wrex immediately charging the nearest Krogan and slamming the butt of his shotgun into his face before ending his life with a shotgun shell to the stomach. Tali swings herself over with one hand, bringing her three-toed foot around to smash into a Geth’s head, staggering the synthetic and very nearly knocking it over. While it is still recovering, Tali fires her weapon into its chest, shattering straight through its armour with a single pull of her trigger.

While Wrex carves through the other members of his species, Tali deals with the Geth on the fly. In between slugs from her shotgun, she is busy hacking through their shields and overloading their weapons with practised ease. Her hacking skills, specifically when being used on Geth, have improved immeasurably since starting her Pilgrimage. They had been at an high level before, but using them in the field like this has sharpened her skills like no manual or teacher ever could.

The last Geth goes down as Wrex picks it up and tears one of its arms off with his bare hands, using the offending limb to beat it into deactivation. He throws it down when he is done, breathing just as hard as the other three. The alarm blaring over their heads brings them all back to reality, and they quickly rush to the nearest console. Tali has it under her command in less than a minute, her fingers flying over its controls.

The Quarian pauses, considering their options. “I’ve got an idea, but it’s a bad one.”

Alexis gives a half smile. “Most of my ideas are bad, Tali. What’ve you got?”

“I can turn off the alarms, no problem. But… I could set them off on the other side.” Alexis's eyes widen at the prospect. “It’ll take the pressure off us, but… it could kill the Salarians… and Kaidan.”

Alexis can't deny that the idea has merit. If she wasn’t so sure that it would definitely end in Kaidan’s and the Salarians' deaths, she might have actually considered it. “Just turn them off. We can handle any additional forces inside. Their job is hard enough as it is.”

Tali is secretly glad Alexis has gone with this course of action. She had only suggested the other because it was available, not with any expectation that Alexis would ever choose that option. Tali also trusts Alexis's tactical mind far more than she does her own. There could have been a tactical advantage to sending the forces there that Tali couldn’t see, but at the same time, it would result in deaths that could be entirely avoided by simply having more forces for them to deal with. “And done.” The alarms stop blaring in their ears, the whole base going quiet once more.

Alexis stops before entering the base’s interior. “Lieutenant, status report.”

Even louder gunfire than before fills their comms. “Three injuries so far, Commander. Only minor, patched up and back in the fight. The Mako has been a big help.” As if to prove his point, the tank’s main gun echoes in the background. “Enemy numbers show no sign of letting up.” Alexis can hear how hard Kaidan is breathing, the fight beginning to get to him. “We’ll hold them, don’t worry, Commander.”

“Understood. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Yes, ma’am. Alenko out.”

Alexis moves off without another word, punching the door’s interface and stalking inside. They move into a warehouse, huge stacks of crates covering the room’s floor. It makes a maze of the interior, high enough that the enemy could be hiding anywhere in here, and they’d never know till they got close enough to be taken by surprise. Alexis won't let that happen. She slowly steps forward, listening for any sign of the enemy she knows is there. She attempts to make her steps as silent as possible, her companions doing the same to the best of their ability.

Alexis has been trained in her N7 course for stealth missions. However, she’d been trained for solo stealth, or group stealth if the rest were trained N7s as well. Her current squad is not. She can hear the creak of Wrex’s armour as though he is ripping it apart. And even Garrus, with what she assumes is specialized training from the Turian military, is far louder than what she would have wanted. Tali is the only one that seems relatively quiet, her suit muffling extra sounds she makes. She’ll just have to make do.

Alexis freezes just before a corner, stopping the others in their tracks. She signals for them to stay where they are, pressing herself against a crate and ever so slowly moving towards the bend in their path. When she is barely an inch away from properly appearing around the corner, Alexis abruptly reaches around, grabbing the enemy she knows is there. Before its programming allows it to react, the Commander wrenches the Geth trooper around, slamming it into the ground with one hand around its throat. Her other fist rushes down, glowing with her omni-blade. It slams into Geth’s chest armour, piercing it and destroying much of the necessary hardware. The Geth flails for but a moment before shutting down completely.

The sudden destruction of their ally causes the Geth to begin the battle in earnest, several rushing around the corner to confront their adversary. They each only get a few shots off, barely damaging the squad’s shields or barriers before they all explode simultaneously from their attack. “Well, there goes the sneaky option.” Alexis groups back up with the other three, all moving off at the same time around the corner.

The crates filling the room make for tight corridors they have to navigate. It funnels the enemy to them, but does the same thing for their enemy. Geth fire on them, no choice but to let their defences take the attack at full force and respond with one of their own. There is no cover to speak of, not even a low crate they can hide behind.

The four of them stand in one line, firing in unison as they advance along the tight passageways. They step over Geth as they fall, Wrex even occasionally stooping down to grab onto their bodies and toss them at their newest enemy. Alexis's assault rifle overheats in her hands even with fresh thermal clips rapidly slammed in place, quickly switching out to her pistol and blasting away at the Geth.

Alexis estimates they’ve made it halfway through the room, still coming up against waves of Geth and Krogan. She hears something above them, taking a glance upwards just in time. Her eyes widen as she sees a crate plummeting towards them, large enough to squash them all if she lets it. There isn’t time to think—only time to react. Instinct takes over, her body moving before her mind can catch up.

“WREX, CATCH!” Alexis yells, her voice sharp with urgency. The Krogan raises his hands upwards, shrouded in dark energy, as the crate comes towards them. It hits his outstretched hands, forcing him immediately to one knee, his muscles straining under the weight. Garrus dives backwards on instinct, but Alexis's gaze darts to Tali, who is still in the danger zone. Without hesitation, Alexis lunges toward her, her heart pounding.

She tackles Tali with all her strength, her arms wrapping around the Quarian's shoulders as they both go down. Alexis twists her body mid-fall, ensuring she takes the brunt of the impact as they crash to the ground. The air leaves her lungs in a rush, her body slamming into the metal floor with Tali beneath her, the weight of her armour pressing down. For a moment, the world is nothing but the ringing in her ears and the sharp pain shooting up her side.

She blinks, her vision clearing just in time to see the crate suspended above them, Wrex grunting beneath the weight, his entire body trembling with the effort to keep it from crushing them. Alexis feels Tali shift beneath her, the Quarian’s hands pressing against Alexis’s chest in surprise. It’s a reversal of what happened on Luna—this time, Alexis is the one protecting her, shielding her from harm.

They exchange a quick look—Tali's eyes are wide behind her visor, gratitude mingling with shock. Alexis gives her a small nod, her expression one of determination.

Garrus rolls onto his back, eyes instantly locking onto the two Krogan who pushed the crate off the stack in an attempt to kill the squad before they’ve even properly infiltrated the base. He fires up at them, both taken by surprise as bullets bury themselves within their armour and the underlying flesh. They stumble backwards from the attack, and Alexis, still between Tali’s legs, twists over and joins in, firing her pistol straight up at them. Tali quickly follows up by overloading their armour’s systems. The Krogan topple over backwards, the resounding crash of them hitting the ground on the other side of the stack the last sound they will ever make.

“Get through,” Wrex just manages to get a few words out through gritted teeth, his muscles straining under the weight. The three of them scramble to their feet, ducking under the crate and making it through to the other side. Once clear, Alexis nods at the Krogan, her voice sharp, “Now.”

Wrex heaves up and backwards, the crate crashing down onto the ground behind him. He lets out a deep exhale, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the immediate danger passes. Alexis scoops her weapon back up off the ground, stretching her arms for a few seconds before moving off once more.

In between shots, Wrex grins at the Commander, his voice laced with humour. “Should get them to drop more stuff on us—haven’t had to use my muscles like that in a few centuries.”

“Just be glad—” Alexis fires directly into a Geth’s gut, sending it careening back to where it popped out from, “—that I reacted fast enough to save us from getting crushed.”

“HA! Might’ve killed you guys, but I would’ve been fine.”

“Good to know you care about our wellbeing, Wrex.”

The Krogan Battlemaster rushes forward, grabbing another Krogan by the throat and using his momentum to lift and subsequently slam the other into the ground. He follows it up with a biotic-stomp straight to the face, crushing nearly every bone in the other Krogan’s face and killing him instantly. “Anytime, Shepard.”

They make short work of the remaining enemies within the room, finally getting to the other side. There are only two options for progressing further into the base that Alexis can see. One door leads back outside, which feels more like one step forward, two steps back than anything else. Alexis decides on following a staircase down further into the facility. She hopes the bowels of this place will give them useful intel on Saren and exactly how close he is to succeeding with his plan. Or at least a way to deactivate all of the base’s defences and allow the Normandy to drop the nuclear bomb currently sitting in its cargo hold.

Alexis calmly leads the way, reaching the bottom of the stairs and stalking through the first room. It is completely empty, only a door on the other side really giving any indication of the path forward. She opens it, confronted with a walkway suspended above what looks like a lab. She looks down at the lower floor, spying several occupants who immediately look up at the sound of the door opening. They are all Asari dressed in lab gear, but the looks in their eyes tell Alexis that isn’t their sole job in Saren’s plans.

Every Asari draws a pistol from beneath her clothes, beginning their assault on the squad who has invaded the base. Alexis breaks into a short run before somersaulting forward, protecting herself from the bullets flying up at her. The walkway only allows them to get to the lower floor right at the other end of the room, some 40 meters away. They are at a distinct disadvantage here. Alexis does the only thing she can think of that would take their enemy by surprise.

The Commander jumps up, vaulting over the railing and firing on the closest Asari while still in mid-air. Her chest sprays out purple blood as she stumbles backwards, the shock evident on her face before finally falling down and lying still. Blood quickly pools under the fresh corpse, her pistol clattering to the ground. Alexis lands on her feet and falls forward into a roll, springing back up and diving behind a workstation as bullets fill the air that she had just previously occupied.

Wrex comes next, not even attempting to roll as he lands and simply taking all of the force of his giant frame straight through his legs. He calmly marches forward, hip-firing his shotgun at the Asari and laughing as bullets either deflect off his barrier or barely injure him in the slightest. He picks out the Asari closest to him, moving towards her at a constant speed, not firing his shotgun at all even as she fires upon him. He finally gets close enough, seizing hold of her hands with one of his own, crushing her wrists until the pistol falls to the floor. The Asari attempts to wrench herself free, her body glowing with biotics. With speed that his bulky frame should not have allowed, he lets go of her wrists only to grab her by the throat and lift her clear off the ground in one clean movement.

Pulling back, Wrex tosses the Asari at her allies, three of the Asari crashing to the ground with bone-crunching force. Wrex continues to fire his shotgun, eventually being forced into cover further on in the room than Alexis as the Asari adapt to his tactics and focus fire on the Krogan. Even Wrex can’t handle all of their barrages at the same time and actually live to talk about it.

Garrus uses the partly shifted focus of the Asari to his advantage, switching to his sniper rifle and beginning his own barrage against Saren’s forces. Each shot finds its mark, some of the Asari’s heads disappearing in gouts of purple, while others suddenly have large holes in somewhere vital. He is only able to make three shots before having to duck down and wait for the bullets to stop flying at him. Even with his exemplary marksmanship skill, he can’t aim fast enough to take any more shots than that.

Tali curses under her breath in Khelish. She can’t do what Alexis and Wrex have done, the floor below too far for her to drop without breaking at least a bone in her legs. She doesn’t have Alexis's enhanced armour to lessen the impact or the sheer strength of Wrex to absorb the force. She isn’t anywhere near as proficient at long-range combat as Garrus. Her shotgun is essentially useless at this range, and even if one of the pellets happens to hit one of the Asari, it would barely even be a flesh wound. The Quarian scans around the sections of the room she can see, settling on a control panel at the far end of the walkway. Maybe she can do something with that.

With the Asari distracted by the other three members of Alexis’s squad, Tali shuffles along the walkway as quickly as she can, forced to remain almost crouching to prevent the Asari from possibly seeing her and turning their attention to her. Finally reaching the end, she reaches up and yanks away some of the control panel’s housing, pulling wires from underneath and connecting them through to her omni-tool. This system is far harder to crack, the firewall far more complicated than the alarms outside along with the deafening noise of gunfire echoing through the room.

After a few tense minutes, Tali breaks through, sorting through the systems she can access from this panel. Her first thought would’ve been the fire suppression systems, but it seems the only thing this room has in that department is sprinklers, a disadvantage for both sides. It only takes her another few seconds to stumble upon another idea. A smile spreads under her visor, speaking as quietly down the comms as she can, “Hey, do any of your suits have night vision?”

“Mine does,” Alexis yells back.

“Yep,” Wrex answers shortly.

“No, but my sniper does in its scope,” Garrus says between shots.

Tali hovers over the command, “Well, get ready to use it.” Her finger comes down onto her omni-tool, enacting her plan. Instantly, every overhead light in the entire room turns off, plunging the entire room into complete darkness. They are far enough underground that there aren’t even any windows that could possibly have let any daylight in. The only light that comes through is the momentary continuation of muzzle flashes, quickly ending as no combatant can see their targets.

Alexis quickly shut off her suit’s lights to prevent anything from giving her away. Her vision is bathed in a blueish tint as her helmet’s white phosphor night vision setting activates. She pops her head up over the cover, clearly seeing each of the Asari still attempting to aim for both her and Wrex. She quickly moves away from the spot they know her to be in, carefully planning her next move.

The Commander eyes a target further down than the closest one, perfectly positioned in front of a bench for her. Shifting her position before engaging her with her rifle, rounds impact into the Asari as they stumble about in the dark, trying to adjust to the change in light levels.

Wrex charges away from his cover, beginning a melee assault on the Asari. None of them can stand against his titanic strength, bones cracking with every blow he brings to bear. He comes up to a pair of them, seizing hold of the sides of their heads and crashing them together. They collapse to the ground, both with at least severe skull fractures if not serious brain damage, purple blood already pooling under them. Wrex doesn’t bother to check, already moving off.

Garrus continues to fire his sniper rifle, the only thing he can do in the darkness Tali has plunged the room into. His armor has been given to him by C-Sec, without many of the bells and whistles that a true military-grade set would have provided. He knows for a fact that the standard Turian military armour has the night vision setting that would have made this much easier, but he has to deal with what he has. The Turian uses the darkness to his advantage, capitalising on the confusion it has created amongst the Asari.

He fires on any of the Asari that Alexis or Wrex leave behind as they carve their way through the enemy. They attempt to adapt to this new challenge, but only have a muzzle flash every few seconds to even try to determine Garrus’s position. The Turian makes sure to move back and forth along the walkway to prevent any chance they have of locking onto him and actually injuring him.

Tali remains near the panel, ready to switch the lights back on when they are needed. Her enviro-suit automatically adjusts the filter over her visor, allowing her to see perfectly even in the dark. She takes the opportunity to draw her pistol, her hands steady despite the chaos. She lines up her sights on the furthest Asari, exhaling slowly as she squeezes the trigger. The shot hits a little lower than intended, piercing the Asari’s side. The enemy collapses to the floor, clutching at the wound, her face twisted in pain. She fires blindly in retaliation, her shots echoing wildly off the walls. Tali ducks down, the hiss of bullets slicing through the air above her head. She waits for the gunfire to cease before she pops back up, aiming again. This time, the shot hits true—straight in the chest. The Asari falls back, a wet gurgle escaping her lips before her body finally stills. Tali shifts her focus to the next target, continuing her assault with a grim determination.

Eventually, silence falls over the lab, broken only by the occasional drip of liquid and the hum of machinery. Every Asari in the room lies dead, their bodies strewn across the cold metal floor. Tali flicks the lights back on, and the harsh overhead illumination brings everything into sharp, terrible focus. She hurries down the stairs, joining Alexis and Wrex as they stand surveying the room.

Alexis scans the area, her eyes flicking over the bodies but refusing to linger. She hadn’t noticed the full scope of the lab before—she’d been too focused on the fight. Now, with the adrenaline starting to fade, she takes in the chilling details. The lab is filled with large tanks lining the walls, each spaced evenly apart. Most of the tank is covered in metal plating, save for a small window near the top. Through each grimy pane, she can see a Krogan suspended in viscous fluid, the dim light reflecting off the glass and giving the scene an eerie, greenish glow.

Wrex approaches one of the tanks, his heavy footfalls echoing through the now silent room. He circles it, his face darkening as he takes in the Krogan floating inside. Without warning, he grips the edge of the metal door and tears it off with a guttural growl, the metal groaning before giving way. The liquid spills out, splashing across the floor, and the Krogan slumps forward, coughing up the fluid as he collapses onto his hands and knees. He looks disoriented, his eyes wide, struggling to focus on anything. For a heartbeat, Alexis thinks she might see a glimmer of recognition in his gaze—but it’s gone, replaced by emptiness.

Wrex stares down at the pitiful sight before him, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck taut with barely contained fury. There is no honour here—no glory, no strength. Just weakness and violation. With a quiet, almost sorrowful rage, Wrex draws his pistol, pressing it to the back of the clone's neck. The Krogan doesn’t resist. He barely even seems aware of what’s happening. A single shot echoes through the room, and the Krogan crumples to the floor, blood mingling with the fluid that still pools around him.

“Saren hasn’t cured the Genophage…” Wrex growls, his voice thick with disgust. “He’s cloned the weakest of us. Tank-bred abominations. I’m going to kill that Turian.”

Alexis can see the pain in Wrex’s eyes, the fury that simmers beneath his calm facade. This is not something he wants to talk about, and she respects that. She only nods, the grim determination in her eyes matching his. She motions for the others to follow her, leading them out of the room and further into the facility.

The next room is unsettlingly quiet, devoid of any immediate enemies but far from empty. Cells line the wall, each one filled with eerie silence. Some are empty, but others contain prisoners—Salarians, their eyes vacant and bodies slack. The sight of them sends a chill down Alexis’s spine. She moves to the first occupied cell, her gaze narrowing as she recognizes the armour—this is one of Kirrahe’s missing men. The instant he sees her, he stumbles forward, pressing against the glass, desperation in his eyes.

Alexis lowers the barrier partially, watching as the Salarian practically slams into the partition in his eagerness. “Well, you’re not Geth, and you’re not wearing a lab coat,” he manages, his voice shaky, his gaze darting between Alexis and the others. “So, I guess I’m glad to see you.” He stands straighter, offering a salute despite the situation. “Lieutenant Ganto Imness of the Third Infiltration Regiment, captured during recon. I assume you’re part of the fleet we requested to destroy the base?”

Alexis shakes her head slightly, her expression hardening. “Unfortunately, the message was garbled. We’re the only reinforcements that have come.”

Imness blinks, his face briefly betraying his disappointment before he regains control. “I see. Then you must be an infiltration team. Captain Kirrahe… did he outline his plan to destroy the base?”

“He has,” Alexis confirms, her eyes never leaving the prisoner’s gaunt face.

Imness’s demeanour shifts, the fear in his eyes intensifying. He glances around, as if making sure no one else is listening. “He wants to destroy it for the Krogan breeding capabilities, but there’s something worse here. Something far more horrifying than an army of Krogan could ever be.” His voice drops, almost a whisper, and Alexis leans closer to hear. “My team… my entire team was experimented on. They were altered, indoctrinated. I watched them become husks—mindless, empty. Others… others died during the experiments. They were the lucky ones.”

A shiver runs down Alexis’s spine. “Do you know more about these experiments? Why Saren’s running them?” she asks, her voice barely above a murmur.

“They’re studying indoctrination,” Imness replies, his eyes haunted. “Trying to understand its effects, how it works. Saren… he uses it to control everyone around him. But I don’t think he understands it either. He doesn’t see what it’s doing to his own people.” His voice cracks, a desperate edge seeping in. “Please, I don’t know anything else. But I’ve seen what happens. I can’t end up like that—empty, gone. You have to let me out.”

“Keelah…” Tali murmurs, horror evident in her voice. Alexis clenches her jaw, her face an unreadable mask. She turns to Tali. “Download everything you can, then wipe the servers. We’re about to nuke this place, but I want to make sure.”

Tali nods, stepping over to the nearby console, her fingers already moving over her omni-tool. Alexis turns her gaze back to Imness, her eyes hardening.

“If I let you out, how do I know you won’t attack us?”

“It’s obvious I’m not like the others!” Imness pleads, his voice cracking. “Please, let me out, and I’ll stay out of your way.”

There’s something raw in his voice—an emotion that cuts through the cold, sterile horror of the lab. Alexis hesitates for a moment longer before shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk it.”

She activates her omni-tool, the barrier humming as it reactivates, cutting off the sounds of Imness’s frantic pleas. He slams his hands against the glass, his mouth moving, but Alexis can’t hear the words. She forces herself to look away, her expression pained, but resolute.

She turns to the rest of her team. “We have to stop Saren. If this is what awaits us if we fail… I don’t know about you, but having my mind emptied and turning into a husk isn’t on my list of ways to go.” She raises her rifle, the weight of the weapon grounding her as she leads them out of the room.

Wrex lingers, his gaze locked on the imprisoned Salarians. He steps closer, waving a hand in front of one of them. There isn’t even a flicker of recognition in their eyes, just the vacant stare of someone whose soul has been hollowed out. It’s not death—but it’s something far worse. He clenches his fists, his heart heavy with a mix of anger and pity. If this is Saren’s future for the Krogan, there is no price too high to stop him. Wrex turns, jogging to catch up to the rest of the squad, his determination burning even hotter than before.

The squad ascends the stairs cautiously, the metallic clang of their footsteps reverberating through the stairwell. The steps lead to a barren room, empty except for a single desk and an elevator. Tali approaches the computer on the desk, her fingers deftly tapping on her omni-tool, attempting to access its systems. Frustration mounts as she finds nothing, aside from the elevator controls. There’s no data, no logs, just an elevator access terminal—like someone went to great lengths to hide whatever secrets lay within. 

"Nothing here," Tali mutters, and she triggers the elevator. The squad piles in, the doors closing with a dull clank. The elevator begins its journey upward, each creaking movement almost painful in its slowness. The air inside grows thick with tension as Alexis restrains herself from tapping her foot impatiently. The quiet hum of the elevator feels deafening against the silence, each second stretching as if it were minutes.

The doors slide open, revealing a glimpse of a lab—though nothing hostile seems immediately apparent. Alexis presses herself against the wall beside the elevator doors, edging out carefully. She pokes her head around the edge, eyes taking in the dim lighting and the cold metallic surfaces below. 

It’s a lab, just like before, but this one is... wrong. Her gaze locks onto a series of massive tanks lining the far wall, each filled with an energy field, and suspended inside... husks. Alexis feels a chill run down her spine, a knot forming in her stomach. Human forms, twisted into metallic monstrosities, suspended as if they were nothing more than trophies. A twisted mockery of what they used to be—now reduced to pale, grey flesh with pulsating blue circuits. 

Alexis takes a step into the lab, her eyes scanning every corner for threats. She knows instinctively that there will be something—an enemy hiding, a trap waiting to be sprung. The air smells sterile, cold, devoid of life except for the machines and the abominations they hold. Her fingers tighten around her rifle. The silence feels too heavy, an omen that precedes the chaos.

A sudden bellow echoes through the room, breaking the quiet. “NO! LEAVE THEM ALONE!” Alexis barely has time to react before a massive figure slams into her side. Her feet leave the ground, and the impact sends her sprawling. She lands heavily on her back, but her training kicks in, rolling into a crouch, her rifle snapping up to aim at her assailant.

A Krogan stands before her, not one of the cloned soldiers they’d encountered earlier. He’s bigger, bulkier—an unmistakable menace in his stance. His eyes are wild with fury, and spit flies from his mouth as he roars. “I WON’T LET YOU DESTROY MY RESEARCH!”

He slams his fist down on a nearby console, and the room erupts in a mechanical whine. Every machine lights up, the energy fields that contained the husks dissipating in an instant. The husks tumble out, bodies slumping to the floor before snapping into life, moving with a speed and ferocity that’s utterly inhuman.

“Wrex!” Alexis yells, her voice ringing with urgency as she scrambles behind a workstation for cover. The Krogan Battlemaster narrows his eyes, ignoring the approaching husks entirely. His focus locks on the Krogan researcher.

Wrex roars, his voice a primal challenge. He lunges forward, bulldozing through the advancing husks like they’re nothing more than nuisances. The husks swipe at him with clawed hands, but their attacks glance off his armour, barely slowing him down. With a force that seems almost unstoppable, Wrex crashes into the other Krogan, driving his shoulder into his gut and lifting him off the ground. The momentum carries them both into a table, shattering it on impact.

“You’ve perverted the Krogan race!” Wrex bellows, his voice carrying the raw fury of betrayal.

The other Krogan struggles to rise, blood smeared across his face, but his rage is undiminished. “I’VE SAVED US!” he screams, launching himself back at Wrex with a flurry of punches. His fists strike with a desperation born of madness. “WE WERE WEAK! WE CAN BE STRONG AGAIN!”

Wrex blocks the strikes with practised ease, his movements calm and deliberate—each block followed by a devastating retaliatory strike. His fists glow with dark energy as he drives them into the other Krogan’s side, ribs cracking audibly under the force. “THE ONLY THING YOU’VE DONE IS MAKE US SLAVES!” Wrex roars, his voice filled with disdain. A vicious right hook sends the Krogan sprawling, spinning across the floor.

The researcher coughs, blood dripping from his mouth, his voice a rasping taunt, “THEN YOU ARE A FOOL, URDNOT WREX. YOU WILL DOOM US ALL.”

Wrex freezes for a heartbeat, the name striking him like a blow. The husks seem to pause in their onslaught, moving past him as if drawn by some invisible force toward the rest of the squad. “How do you know me?” Wrex growls, his voice low, filled with a dangerous calm.

“Every Urdnot knows of you,” the Krogan hisses, a sneer twisting his battered features. “You disgraced our clan the day you murdered your father.”

Wrex’s eyes darken, his nostrils flaring. “Disgraced it?” He steps closer, his massive form looming over the fallen Krogan. Recognition dawns on his features, and with it, a grim resolve. “I remember you. You stood by and let him try to doom us to extinction. You would see us enslaved, dying for nothing.”

The researcher doesn’t retreat. He stands defiant, even as his body trembles with pain. Wrex moves like a storm, dodging a wild swing and seizing the Krogan’s arm. With a brutal twist, he snaps the elbow with a sickening crunch. The researcher screams, the sound echoing in the cold metal walls. Wrex repeats the action on the other arm, bones shattering under his relentless strength.

Wrex towers over the Krogan, his hands closing around his throat. “Serving Saren is worse than anything I’ve ever done,” he says, his voice almost a whisper, his rage distilled into something far colder. He lifts the Krogan from the floor, the researcher’s feet kicking desperately, trying to find purchase as Wrex’s grip tightens. With one last, savage squeeze, Wrex crushes his throat, the bones snapping under the pressure. He drops the body unceremoniously, watching as it crumples to the ground, lifeless.

Nearby, Alexis battles her own demons—husks swarming, their inhuman shrieks echoing through the room. She grabs one by the neck, the blue light of its circuitry flickering wildly, and fires her shotgun into its gut at point-blank range. The force of the blast sends the husk’s remains sprawling, the blue glow fading into nothingness. Her hands are slick with the viscous fluid that coats the husks, dripping from her fingers as she shakes it off.

She looks over to Wrex, his massive chest heaving from exertion, the dead Krogan at his feet. There are no words to say—nothing she could say would matter here. “Good to move, Wrex?” she asks, her voice steady, a silent acknowledgement of what just happened.

Wrex nods, his gaze hard, leading them out of the room without a word. There is nothing left here but death, and they both know it.

The door at the far end of the lab opens to an outside walkway. Alexis’s ears catch the metallic clicking of Geth approaching, the sound growing louder, closer. “MOVE!” she shouts, taking off at a full sprint. They round a corner, and there they are—several Geth troopers, their optics glowing as they register the new threat. Alexis wastes no time, swinging her rifle’s butt into the nearest one, denting its plating. She fires into its chest as it staggers back, her other hand drawing her pistol and unloading into a second Geth. The synthetic collapses, its circuits shorting out.

Garrus is right behind her, taking up position, his sniper rifle snapping into place. He fires a single shot, and the last Geth’s head explodes in a shower of metal and sparks. The Turian stands, his eyes narrowing as he surveys the area. Alexis looks back at him, giving a nod. “Good shot.”

The walkway ends at another locked door. Tali drops to a crouch, her fingers moving swiftly across her omni-tool as she works on the console. Alexis doesn’t like this; they’re too exposed, out in the open with multiple vantage points where enemies could lie in wait. Sweat trickles down her spine, her eyes scanning the rooftops, every shadow a potential threat.

A minute passes, the tension palpable. “Any luck, Tali?” Alexis asks, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes never stopping their scan.

“Almost got it,” Tali replies, her voice tight with concentration. “This lock is more complex than anything else here... this has to be the control room.”

“Let’s hope so,” Alexis mutters.

Another moment passes, then Tali’s voice, filled with relief, “And... got it!”

The door slides open, revealing darkness beyond. Alexis takes a breath, readying herself. Whatever lies ahead, they’re going to face it—and they won’t back down.

A ding signals Tali's success, and Alexis spins around to face the door. "Excellent. On three. One. Two. Three." The door opens on Alexis's signal, and she advances into the room, her rifle up, eyes scanning her surroundings. The room is stark, but two things catch her attention immediately: another locked door across from them and a lone Asari cowering behind a desk. Alexis steps forward, her voice sharp. "On your feet! NOW!"

The Asari’s head snaps up, her eyes wide with panic. She stumbles to her feet, hands raised in a trembling surrender. "Please, please don’t shoot!" she stutters, her voice quivering, tears streaking down her blue cheeks. Her hands shake in the air, her eyes darting between Alexis and her squad, clearly terrified. But Alexis doesn't lower her weapon. She knows all too well the lengths Saren's people will go to, even sacrificing themselves if it means taking their enemies with them.

She narrows her eyes, her voice ice-cold. "Why should I trust you? How do I know you won’t turn on me the second I lower my guard?" She takes a measured step closer, her finger steady on the trigger, her gaze piercing.

The Asari swallows hard, her eyes flicking toward the door behind Alexis, where the bodies of Geth litter the ground, their metallic shells still smoking. "My name is Rana Thanoptis," she says, her voice shaking. "I’m a neurospecialist. I—look, I know what this looks like, but I don’t want to die here. This job isn’t worth dying over. Or worse." Her voice falters, and a haunted look passes over her features, her eyes glossing as if remembering something horrific. "You think the indoctrination only affects the prisoners? Saren will do the same to me. It’s just a matter of time before he decides I’m better off as a mindless tool." She shivers, the terror visible in her eyes. "I’ve seen it happen. I’ve seen them turn into those things, and I can’t… I can’t end up like that."

Alexis feels a chill run down her spine. The haunted look in Rana's eyes strikes a chord, something raw and deeply unsettling. "This facility," Alexis presses, her voice like steel, "it's more than just a Krogan breeding ground, isn't it? What has Saren learned about indoctrination?"

Rana’s gaze shifts, a mix of fear and resignation in her eyes. "This whole level is dedicated to studying indoctrination. We're researching that ship, Sovereign, trying to understand its effect on organic minds." Her voice lowers, a bitter edge creeping into it. "Saren only tells us what he wants us to know, but it's enough. We see it… we see what happens to those around us." 

Tali’s voice cuts in, filled with disgust. "You worked for that monster, and you didn’t even know why?"

Rana flinches, her eyes darting toward the Quarian, the trembling in her hands more pronounced. "I didn’t have a choice. None of us did," she pleads. "They made it very clear this job was more permanent than any of us anticipated." Her gaze shifts back to Alexis, and she gestures with one shaky hand toward a door behind her desk. "But I can help you. I can get you into Saren’s private lab. You can find out everything—everything he knows about indoctrination, about Sovereign." She moves slowly, her movements deliberate as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small ID card, pressing it against a scanner by the door. The door hisses open, revealing an elevator inside. "There. Full access to everything. Just… let me go."

Alexis doesn’t move, her rifle still aimed squarely at Rana’s chest. "Tell me everything you know about indoctrination," she demands, her voice unyielding.

Rana’s eyes widen, the desperation in her voice rising. "Saren’s ship—it emits some kind of signal. It’s undetectable by any known means, but it’s there. I’ve seen what it does to people… it breaks them. It twists their minds, makes them loyal to him without question. It’s… like their thoughts aren’t their own anymore." Her voice drops, trembling. "But there’s more. The signal, it’s too strong. Even those close to Saren—his most loyal followers—eventually succumb. It starts as a whisper, just a tingling at the base of your skull, like someone’s whispering to you but you can't quite hear the words. You do things without understanding why, things you would never do. And before you even realise it, you’re not yourself anymore." She looks down, her voice barely a whisper, filled with dread. "It happened to my predecessor. He was my first test subject… and now I know it’s only a matter of time before it happens to me."

Alexis takes a step forward, her face an unreadable mask. "If Saren has Sovereign, why does he need to study indoctrination? Isn't he controlling it?"

Rana shakes her head, the fear palpable in her voice. "No… the signal comes from the ship. It makes us obey Saren, but he doesn’t control it. Not fully. I think…" She hesitates, her voice faltering. "I think he’s afraid of it too. I think even he knows he might be losing control. Indoctrination is subtle. By the time you realise it’s happening, it’s already too late." 

Alexis studies Rana’s face, searching for any sign of deceit, any hint that this could be a trap. The Asari’s fear seems genuine, her eyes haunted by the horrors she’s seen. "If the signal comes from Sovereign, wouldn't moving away lessen its effects?" Alexis probes.

Rana shakes her head again, her expression pained. "It’s not a signal, not exactly. It’s more like an energy field—it changes you. Permanently. Once you’re exposed, the effects don’t go away. It rewrites you, alters your mind, your very thoughts." Her eyes seem to glaze over, her voice cracking. "It’s like your mind being slowly devoured from within. The longer you’re exposed, the harder it becomes to resist, until eventually…" She stops, her voice breaking. "Until eventually, there's nothing left."

Silence hangs heavy in the air as Alexis processes everything. This wasn’t just about Saren—Sovereign was something far worse. Something alive, something capable of destroying not just their bodies but their very souls. The knot in her stomach tightens, the scope of their mission growing heavier with each passing second.

She looks back at Rana, her finger tightening slightly on the trigger. She doesn’t trust her, not fully. But at the same time, the thought of gunning her down in cold blood feels… wrong. Not when Rana had given them crucial information, not when she was a victim of this nightmare too.

Slowly, Alexis lowers her rifle, motioning for her squad to do the same. "All right. You’re free to go. But I should warn you…" her voice hardens, her eyes locking with Rana’s, "we’re about to blow this place sky high. If you want to live, you’d better start running."

Rana’s eyes widen in shock, her arms dropping to her sides. "What?! You… but I… I’ll never make it!" The words are almost a sob, but there’s no time for argument. She turns and runs, sprinting past the squad and disappearing through the door.

The room falls into an uneasy silence, the echoes of her footfalls fading into the distance. Alexis turns her attention back to the elevator, her thoughts heavy.

"I would’ve killed her." Wrex’s voice is a low growl, filled with disdain. Alexis glances back at him but says nothing. She knows there’s no point arguing ethics with Wrex, not now. He’d seen the worst of the galaxy, and mercy wasn’t something he was accustomed to. Garrus and Tali exchange glances, both of them choosing to stay silent, knowing there’s no easy answer here.

The elevator awaits, the doors open like a mouth ready to swallow them whole. Alexis steels herself, pushing the unease aside. Indoctrination, Sovereign—these horrors are something she can’t face right now, not directly. But she can stop Saren. She can cut the head off this snake before it poisons the rest of the galaxy.

She steps into the elevator, her squad following close behind. No words are spoken, the weight of what they’ve learned settling over them like a shroud. They have a mission, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping them from drowning in the darkness that looms just ahead.

Alexis steps aside to allow her squad into the elevator before following them in, her rifle still aimed at the entrance, her senses heightened. Tali hits the button, and the elevator ascends slowly, grinding its way upward as if dreading what awaits above. No one speaks, but the tension is palpable—an unspoken, shared fear that they may be stepping toward something beyond what they can understand, something worse than Saren.

The elevator's crawl is excruciating, the seconds stretching like hours. Alexis’s jaw is clenched, her mind bracing for what they may find. A cold sweat settles on her back. In that moment, she senses it—a lurking darkness, an inevitability waiting just beyond their perception. Wrex stares straight ahead, stoic. Garrus grips his rifle a little tighter. Tali’s head is lowered, her breath barely audible.

When the doors finally open, they reveal a pitch-black corridor, strips of dim lights barely managing to hold the darkness at bay. It’s as though they’re stepping into a void—a place meant to swallow all light, all warmth, all hope. Alexis moves cautiously, her footsteps eerily silent against the pitch-black floor, her rifle scanning left and right. The air is thick with unease, and the squad follows in silence, all too aware that danger lurks around every corner.

At the end of the corridor, the door opens by itself—no panels, no locks. It slides open soundlessly, as if welcoming them. Alexis’s unease grows. There are no guards, no defences—nothing to stop them from moving forward. It feels wrong. It feels like they’re walking into a trap.

The room beyond is small, dimly lit, with paths splitting off in three directions. Alexis’s eyes are immediately drawn to the center—a console that seems to exude malice, an aura of unknowable age and power. It is as dark as the surrounding walls, its surfaces etched with unfamiliar markings that seem to shift with the shadows. There is something inherently wrong about it, something that makes Alexis’s skin crawl. She knows, instinctively, that this is no ordinary console.

“Shepard, I think you might want to see this,” Garrus calls out from the side, his voice tinged with an unease that makes Alexis’s stomach churn. She follows his voice, and what she sees makes her blood run cold.

A Prothean beacon. Its ethereal green glow fills the space, shimmering in a way that seems almost to defy reality. She remembers Eden Prime—the agony, the images that ripped through her mind and left her shaken. She nearly died the last time, and yet here it is again, glowing with the same dangerous allure.

They need answers. Alexis forces herself to move closer, her heart pounding in her ears, her fear a tightening grip on her chest. She reaches out, her hand hovering over the beacon, hesitating. Panic claws at her, memories of the previous vision flashing before her eyes. But there is no other choice.

The energy surges, enveloping her, and she is lifted into the air. She gasps, her stomach plummeting. Fear floods her as the power takes hold of her mind, and she feels that terrible, nauseating sense of being torn apart.

“ALEXIS!” Tali's panicked voice echoes through the room, her footsteps racing toward Alexis.

“No! Don’t—look!” Garrus’s grip tightens around Tali's wrist, his voice hushed with urgency. They watch, eyes wide as Alexis floats there, silent and still, unlike the violent convulsions they expected. But this strange, unnatural calm is somehow more unsettling.

Alexis’s vision fades, her senses plunging into darkness. The world disappears, her body numb, her hearing gone. It is a void, a vast emptiness that stretches endlessly. And then, out of the nothingness, they appear—massive, nightmarish forms, machines like she’s never seen before. She can’t grasp their size. They are endless—metallic giants that stretch toward infinity, their silhouettes a mass of blades and angles.

She hears a sound—like the groan of a universe coming apart. It isn’t just noise. It’s a feeling. It reverberates through her entire being—a sound that is more an experience, an oppressive force that settles in her chest, heavy as lead. It’s the roar of countless lives being extinguished, a sound like the universe crying out in terror, then silence.

The Reapers. She’s seeing them as they truly are—an overwhelming, impossible vision of death incarnate. A darkness that reaches beyond anything she’s ever imagined.

The vision continues—planets being devoured, cities crumbling under a wave of death and metal. Worlds reduced to rubble, civilizations turned to ash in the blink of an eye. There is no mercy, no empathy—just the cold, methodical destruction of life, the efficient execution of countless beings. The Reapers aren’t just here to conquer—they are here to erase. It’s not war—it’s extinction. They are not gods. They are worse—inhuman, relentless, unfeeling, and unstoppable.

And then it’s gone. The vision releases her, dropping her unceremoniously to the floor. She lands hard on her hands and knees, gasping, her breath ragged. She’s drenched in sweat, her limbs trembling. She feels hollow, as if the vision has pulled something out of her—something she’ll never get back. She forces herself up, her legs shaking beneath her. “I really hate these visions,” she mutters, her voice almost breaking. But the truth is she’s afraid. Afraid of what she saw. Afraid of what’s coming.

Suddenly, the room is bathed in harsh, crimson light. Alexis blinks, her eyes snapping up. The suspended platform above them glows with a deep red, holographic displays flickering to life.

“That can’t be good,” Garrus murmurs, his voice heavy with apprehension.

Alexis leads them up cautiously, her eyes fixed on the console, her heart pounding. As they approach, the holograms take shape, and her blood freezes at the sight. It’s Sovereign—its massive form, unmistakable, looming above them like a spectre of doom.

Then comes a voice—a voice that seems to vibrate through the room, through their bodies, a sound that echoes deep within their minds. It is a voice that carries the weight of eternity—a deep, resonant tone that makes Alexis’s skin crawl.

“You… are not Saren.” 

The voice is cold, mechanical, dripping with contempt and ancient power. It doesn’t just speak to her—it invades her thoughts, a presence that she can feel inside her mind, a pressure that feels like a vise around her skull.

“A VI interface?” Tali’s voice trembles, the words barely a whisper. But even she knows this can’t be a simple VI.

“Rudimentary creatures of flesh and blood. You touch my mind, fumbling in ignorance, incapable of understanding.”

The voice dismisses them as though they are nothing, as though their existence is beneath it. Alexis’s heart pounds, fear gripping her chest. This is no VI. This is something worse. 

“There is a realm of existence so far beyond your own you cannot even imagine it. I am beyond your comprehension. I am Sovereign.”

The realisation strikes them like a physical blow, the horror settling in. Alexis’s voice is almost breathless, filled with disbelief. “Sovereign… isn’t just a ship. It’s a Reaper.”

Sovereign responds, the tone almost mocking. “Reaper? A label created by the Protheans to give voice to their destruction. In the end, what they choose to call us is irrelevant. We simply… are.”

Alexis’s stomach twists, her thoughts spinning. This isn’t just an ancient ship. It’s a sentient being, a monster that has seen countless civilisations rise and fall, that has ended them all.

Garrus finds his voice, the fear evident. “But the Protheans vanished fifty thousand years ago! How could you have been there?”

“Organic life is nothing but a genetic mutation, an accident. Your lives are measured in years, decades. You wither and die. We are eternal. The pinnacle of evolution and existence. Before us, you are nothing. Your extinction is inevitable. We are the end of everything.”

The voice of the Reaper is final, a death sentence for all life, and Alexis feels her heart sink. This is not a war they can win—this is something beyond war, beyond reason. She forces herself to speak, to sound braver than she feels. “We’ll stop you. The galaxy will unite, and we’ll fight you.”

“Confidence born of ignorance. The cycle cannot be broken.”

Wrex, silent until now, steps forward, his deep voice cutting through the dread. “Cycle? What cycle?”

“The pattern has repeated itself more times than you can fathom. Organic civilisations rise, evolve, advance. And at the apex of their glory, they are extinguished.” The hologram glows brighter, the red light intensifying. “The Protheans were not the first. They did not create the Citadel. They did not forge the mass relays. They merely found them—the legacy of my kind.”

The implications are almost too horrifying to consider. They aren’t fighting a rogue AI or a renegade machine—they are fighting something that has orchestrated the rise and fall of every advanced civilisation, time and time again.

Alexis struggles to comprehend. “Why would you construct the mass relays, only to leave them behind for others to find?”

“Your civilisation is based on the technology of the mass relays—our technology. By using it, your society develops along the paths we desire. We impose order on the chaos of organic evolution. You exist because we allow it. And you will end because we demand it.”

“They’re harvesting us,” Tali breathes, her voice breaking. “Letting us advance to the level they need, then wiping us out.”

A chill runs down Alexis’s spine. It isn’t a war. It’s a slaughter—a slaughter that repeats over and over, and now it’s their turn. She swallows, her voice trembling, “Where did you come from? Who built you?”

“We have no beginning. We have no end. We are infinite. Millions of years after your civilisation has been eradicated and forgotten, we will endure.”

The words feel like a weight on Alexis’s chest, a reminder of their insignificance. They are nothing to the Reapers—just another species waiting to be culled.

“What do you want?” she demands. “Slaves? Resources?”

“My kind transcends your very understanding. We are each a nation—independent, free of all weakness. You cannot even grasp the nature of our existence.”

Alexis feels her fear turning to anger. “Where are the rest of the Reapers? Are you the last of your kind?”

“We are legion. The time of our return is coming. Our numbers will darken the sky of every world. You cannot escape your doom.”

She forces herself to stand tall, her voice filled with determination, even if she feels none of it. “Yeah? Well, you’re a machine, and machines can be broken.”

For a moment, there is silence, and then Sovereign’s voice reverberates, almost mocking. “Your words are as empty as your future. I am the vanguard of your destruction. This exchange is over.”

The holographic display vanishes, the room plunging into silence, the red light disappearing. Alexis blinks, her mind reeling from everything they have learned. Before she can even begin to process, the far window explodes inward, daylight streaming through, shards of glass scattering across the floor.

Alexis turns to the opening, her heart pounding, her mind struggling to push aside the overwhelming horror that now clouds her every thought. They have learned the truth—the galaxy is facing an enemy beyond anything they can imagine.

This isn’t just Saren. This isn’t just a rogue agent. This is a nightmare—a nightmare that has happened before, and unless they do something, will happen again.

A sharp, urgent beep breaks the brief moment of quiet after Sovereign’s transmission. Joker’s voice blasts through their comms, strained and barely contained panic leaking through, “Commander! Do you read me? We’ve got trouble.”

Alexis feels a chill run down her spine, her grip tightening on her rifle. “Talk to me, Joker.”

“That ship—Sovereign—it’s moving,” Joker blurts out. “Whatever you’re doing down there has made that thing pull a turn that would shear any of our ships in half! It’s heading your way, and it’s coming fast! You need to get that bomb in there, and you need to do it now!”

Alexis steps closer to the shattered windows, her heart pounding as her eyes lock on the massive fortress wall. The AA guns that had once dominated the battlefield—those terrifying weapons that had made their landing near-impossible—now hang silent, deactivated. Alexis looks back down at the console in front of her, fried circuits and sparks evidence of Sovereign’s retaliation. It seems whatever Sovereign did to sever the base’s systems has disabled the defences, at least for now.

She doesn’t waste time. “Alright, squad, we move. We head to the breeding facility, plant the bomb, and get the hell out of here. Joker, stay ready to extract.”

Alexis's voice is steady, commanding, but inside she can feel the tension, a clawing sense of urgency that creeps into her thoughts. They backtrack through the facility, sprinting through Rana’s office and into the open air. Alexis’s eyes widen as they are immediately met by another wave of Geth and Krogan, their forms blurred in the midday sun. Adrenaline floods her veins, and she dives for cover, her instincts taking over.

Garrus takes a position farther back, his sniper scope up and already lining up shots. The sharp crack of his rifle echoes through the battlefield as he pins down Geth units attempting to flank them. The rest of the squad moves forward in tandem, each step deliberate, their breathing tight in their helmets.

“The Geth are turning! Shepard must be getting close…” Kaidan’s voice comes through the comms, each word punctuated by the sounds of intense fighting. There’s an explosion, and Alexis’s stomach twists, her heart leaping into her throat.

“Alenko! You alright?” Alexis calls out, her breath catching as she charges at a Krogan that had broken cover. She leaps into the air, narrowly dodging its heavy blow, and lands on its back. Her fingers grip tight onto the edges of its armour as she forces it down, her weight dragging the Krogan to the ground with a sickening thud. She senses movement—Wrex rushing past, shotgun raised, blasting the Krogan she’d just brought down. He doesn’t even slow, his focus zeroed in on his next target.

The Lieutenant's voice crackles back, more distant, strained, “Four Salarian casualties, two Marines, Commander, but we’re holding strong. We’ll make sure you can plant that bomb.”

Alexis lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. “Won’t be long now, Alenko. Be ready for extraction.”

Kaidan doesn’t respond immediately, the silence a brief but suffocating moment. Alexis’s brow furrows, concern tugging at her gut. “Yes, ma’am,” Kaidan says, his tone carrying a weight she can’t quite place, but there’s no time to dwell on it.

The last Geth falls, its body collapsing in a heap at Shepard and Tali’s feet. Together, they dismantle it with their shotguns, twin blasts ringing out in unison. There’s no time to breathe. Alexis nods at the others, signalling them forward, their feet pounding against metal and earth as they press on, the path ahead laden with danger.

They nearly sprint through the facility, bursting out into open air once more—only to find themselves confronted by yet more Geth. Alexis’s stomach twists as she instinctively looks up, her eyes catching the massive AA gun on a distant tower—its form slowly rising, powering up again.

“JOKER! DO NOT BRING THE NORMANDY IN! I REPEAT, DEFENSES ARE NOT DOWN, DO NOT BRING THE NORMANDY IN!” Alexis's barks across the comms.

The sky is filled with tension, the looming shape of the Normandy visible even from here. Alexis’s heart pounds as she watches the AA gun fire, a beam of pure energy streaking toward the frigate. There’s a moment where everything seems to freeze—the breath caught in her lungs, the world narrowed to that single shot and the ship in its path.

The Normandy narrowly misses, turning hard, almost impossibly sharp, before it accelerates away, the beam scorching the air where it had just been. Joker’s voice comes back, his tone shaky, “Fuck! That was close. Thanks for the heads-up, Commander!”

Alexis exhales, a breath of both relief and frustration. “Stay out of range, Joker. We’ll handle it.”

The squad advances, moving between cover, each member knowing they have to push ahead, they have to succeed. Garrus takes calculated shots, his sniper rifle barely having time to cool before another shot rings out. He’s relentless, his eyes behind the scope, his focus absolute.

Tali’s hands move across her omni-tool, her shotgun firing at targets within reach while she hacks and overloads others. Sparks fly, Geth units faltering before they even get a shot off. Wrex leads at the front, tearing through synthetic bodies, shotgun in hand, his presence as overwhelming as ever.

Alexis feels pride swell in her chest, her squad functioning like a well-oiled machine, efficient and unyielding. The Geth fall one by one, and Alexis doesn’t bother with cover—she’s moving forward, her body twisting, dodging attacks, her rifle picking off targets.

She senses movement in her periphery, a Geth drone hovering closer, its rockets locking onto her. Alexis dives forward, a burst of instinct that saves her life as the rocket streaks past. Heat blooms behind her, the explosion deafening, shrapnel tearing through the air. She scrambles to her knees, her breath ragged, rifle aimed at the drone as it tries to reposition.

Before she can pull the trigger, Garrus’s rifle rings out, the shot precise. The drone jerks mid-air, then crashes to the ground, its limbs twisted and smoking. Alexis doesn’t look back, her focus already shifting to the AA tower.

The squad moves forward, Alexis charging up the stairs, her boots slamming against each step as she reaches the top. The AA tower looms above, a silent harbinger of destruction. There’s a control room—no door, no defences, just a console.

Before Alexis can move, the elevator on the other side pings, the doors sliding open. A squad of Geth step out, their rifles already trained, but they don’t get a chance to fire. Wrex barrels past Alexis, a roar escaping his lips as he crashes into them. His body slams into theirs, sending them sprawling. He swings his arm wide, his fist connecting with a Geth, sending it hurtling into the elevator wall.

He grabs another by the neck, using it like a weapon, smashing the rest into pieces, synthetic bodies crumpling under his strength. Wrex doesn’t pause, dropping the Geth as he hits the elevator button. He hurls a grenade in just as the doors close, turning away, the explosion shaking the room.

Alexis doesn’t hesitate, leading the squad into the control room. She moves to the console, her fingers quick, shutting down the AA gun. They hear it power down above them, and for good measure, she lifts her rifle and fires, destroying the console completely. There’s no room for mistakes. No room for failure.

“Commander, we’ve set charges on the other AA gun. Permission to detonate?” Kaidan’s voice fills her comms again, and Alexis feels a rush of relief. He’s still alive. They’re still fighting.

“Permission granted, Alenko. Blow it to hell.”

A moment later, an explosion rocks the facility, a plume of smoke rising in the distance, visible over the base’s walls. Alexis watches, a grim smile on her face, knowing they’ve just cleared the way for their extraction.

She taps into her comms again, her voice steady, “Joker, begin your approach. All defenses are down.”

“Roger that, bringing us in. I’ll get as close to the site as I can.”

The blast doors open to reveal a large space, tanks lining the walls, once likely filled with Saren’s breeding experiments. Now they sit empty, and Alexis feels a pang of disgust, her determination hardening. They move swiftly, checking each corner for enemies before advancing further. 

They reach the bomb site, the Normandy hovering above, and Alexis can see the cargo bay door lowering. Ashley stands ready, the bomb strapped to a small hover lift. Liara stands by, her fingers moving across a datapad, the rest of the Marines preparing the final touches.

Ashley moves with the bomb, Alexis guiding her to the far end of the area, the perfect spot to ensure maximum impact. Ashley begins setting it, her voice filling the comms, “Bomb is in position, ready to go whenev—”

“Commander! Do you copy?!” Kaidan’s voice cuts through, frantic, breathless.

“Talk to me, Alenko. The nuke’s almost ready. Time to get to the rendezvous point.”

Kaidan’s voice is grim, “That’s not going to happen, ma’am. The Geth have us pinned near the AA tower. We’re up to seven Salarian casualties, four Marines. Captain Kirrahe is wounded.” Gunfire echoes over the comm, and Alexis can hear the desperation, the chaos. Kaidan grunts, his voice strained, “We’re not going to make it in time, Commander.”

Shepard doesn’t hesitate, her voice sharp, commanding. “Joker, go and pick them up now. We need every—”

“Belay that order, Joker!” Kaidan cuts her off, his tone forceful. “It’s too hot! It’s not worth it! We’ll hold them off for as long as we can.”

Silence follows, the only sound her own ragged breathing. Alexis’s heart slams in her chest, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She can feel her mind racing, calculations running through, weighing risks against reality.

“Kaidan…” she starts, but his comms cut out, static filling her earpiece. Her heart stops, her face paling. She looks to the sky, the Normandy rising away, the cargo bay closing.

The silence feels heavy, suffocating. Her breath catches, fear gnawing at her, the thought of losing him, of losing all those men and women. 

The Reapers. Sovereign. Saren. Everything hangs on what they do next.

“Go get them, Commander. We still need a few minutes to finish arming the bomb. Meet us back here.” Ashley's voice brings Alexis out of her trance. She nods at the Chief, a flash of determination in her eyes, before she takes off in the direction of Kaidan and the Salarians.

The blast door opens before them, and Alexis charges through without even looking back. She doesn’t check if her squad is following—every cell in her body is focused on getting to Kaidan as quickly as possible. After all the missions she’s led with him by her side, she’ll be damned if she loses him now. Water splashes around her feet as she sprints, the landscape of Saren's facility a blur in her periphery.

A Krogan rounds the corner, firing at the sprinting Commander. Alexis doesn't slow down; she reinforces her shield, her vision narrowing as she zeroes in on her target. With a feral growl, she throws her weight into the attack, her fist slamming into the Krogan’s chest, the force of her momentum nearly cracking through his armour. The Krogan flies through the air, crashing into the far wall with a bone-crunching thud. The rest of the squad is right behind her, dispatching the Geth that follow, but Alexis doesn’t pause—she charges ahead, every second wasted another second closer to losing Kaidan.

They pile into the elevator, Alexis tapping her foot impatiently, a tic she can't control. The elevator seems to crawl upwards, each ding of the panel drawing out the tension in the confined space. The moment the doors open, she rushes out onto the top of the wall. Her eyes scan the scene, finding the destroyed AA gun—she knows that's where Kaidan is, and that’s where she needs to be.

The squad barely makes it twenty metres before the sound of engines roars above them, the deafening noise pulling their attention upward. A Geth dropship emerges over the wall, heading straight toward the bomb site.

Kaidan’s voice crackles through the comms, tense and warning, “Heads up, Shepard! Geth ship heading your way.”

Alexis's heart skips a beat as Ashley's voice follows, mixed with the rapid crack of her assault rifle, “Commander, it's at the bomb site. They’re swarming... fucking hell.”

“Can you hold them, Chief?” Alexis’s voice is sharp, commanding, but beneath it all, there’s a tremor of worry.

“I think so—” An explosion drowns out her words, and Alexis hears Ashley grunt through the comms, her voice strained. “Negative, there’s too many. I don’t think we can hold them off.” There’s a pause, and when Ashley speaks again, her voice is calm, resigned. “I’m activating the bomb.”

Alexis's heart pounds in her ears, her voice cracking as she yells, “Williams, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Just making sure this bomb goes off, ma’am. Otherwise… this whole mission is for nothing.” Alexis hears the click and beep of the bomb arming, and Ashley’s words turn softer, almost gentle, “It’s done, Shepard. Go get Alenko, and get out of here.”

“Kaidan, report!” Alexis tries to push away the lump in her throat, but the comms crackle with static, and then Kaidan's voice comes through—weak, pained, and scared.

“That’s not an option, Commander.”

“What do you mean, Lieutenant?” The tension in Alexis’s voice is palpable, and she forces herself to keep her focus even as the world seems to start spinning out of control.

“I got shot, ma’am. Twenty minutes ago.” Kaidan’s voice wavers, and Alexis can almost hear the forced smile behind it, “Hole clean through me. And… I’m all out of medi-gel.” 

His voice shivers through the comm, and Alexis closes her eyes, her grip on the railing in front of her tightening until the metal creaks beneath her gauntlets. “Damn it, Alenko…” she mutters, unable to keep the emotion from her voice.

Kaidan coughs, the sound echoing through her comms, laced with pain. “I’ve got a few more grenades. I’ll take as many of these Geth with me as I can.”

“Hold on, I’m on my way,” Alexis tries to keep her tone strong, steady, as she racks her brain for a plan—any plan. “I’ll come get you and the Salarians.”

“Shepard…” Kaidan’s voice is soft now, almost a whisper. “I told the Salarians to take the Mako and retreat to the rendezvous site... fifteen minutes ago.”

Shepard freezes, her blood turning to ice. "You did what?!"

There’s a beat of silence, and then Kaidan speaks again—gently, using her first name. “Shepard… Alexis…” Her heart lurches at the sound. Kaidan never uses her first name, too caught in rank and protocol. He wouldn’t say it now unless… unless this was it. “Please… go and save Ashley. Save everyone else. Go get that bastard Saren. Make all of this worth it.”

There’s a moment of silence, Alexis pushing every ounce of emotion down into the pit of her stomach, her body falling into the cold, mechanical mindset that had kept her alive on Akuze. She knows Kaidan is right. Going after him would mean sacrificing everything they’d worked for. But that knowledge doesn’t make the decision any easier—it makes it harder, the regret already curling into her chest like a living thing.

She takes a shaky breath, her voice hollow as she forces the words out. “Kaidan… I’m sorry. Keelah Se’lai.”

Kaidan's voice crackles through the comms one last time, filled with a quiet acceptance, “Goodbye, Shepard.” There’s a click, and Alexis knows he’s switched to a private channel, only her comm picking up the last words. His voice is tender, regretful, “And for what it’s worth… I’m sorry too. For everything.”

Static fills the line, and then it goes dead, cutting off with finality. Alexis blinks, her vision blurring for a moment as she hears the distant roar of an explosion. Her eyes drift to the plume of smoke, rising from the area near the AA tower.

The world feels muted, every sound dulled, her chest tight with the weight of it all. Tali steps up beside her, her hand gentle on Alexis’s shoulder, concern thick in her voice, “Shepard, are you—”

Alexis cuts her off, her voice flat, her face unreadable. “Let’s move.” She starts back in the direction they came from, each step purposeful, her mind focused only on the mission. The squad doesn’t ask questions; they simply follow.

The elevator feels suffocating, the walls closing in as they descend. Alexis slams her hand against the console, urging it to move faster, but the slow descent mocks her, each second a reminder that she’s leaving Kaidan behind. She fights to keep her breathing steady, her eyes fixed on the door. The moment it dings open, she sprints toward the bomb site.

They arrive to chaos. Geth swarm the area, the sharp cracks of gunfire and the whirring of machinery filling the air. A couple of the Normandy's Marines lie dead on the ground, their armour scorched. Ashley is huddled behind cover near the bomb, her armour stained crimson. Alexis can see the bright red of blood pooling around her leg, medi-gel hastily applied to slow the bleeding.

Alexis doesn’t hesitate. She takes out a Geth with her rifle before sliding into cover beside Ashley. She pulls out her med-kit, quickly applying medi-gel to the Chief’s wounds. “Stay down, Chief. We’ll take it from here.”

Ashley begins to protest, her voice weak, “I can still fight, I—”

“I said stay down,” Alexis snaps, her tone harsher than intended. She doesn’t look at Ashley, her eyes fixed on the Geth advancing on their position. “That’s an order, Chief. I can’t lose anyone else today.”

Ashley nods, her mouth pressed into a tight line. “Yes, ma’am.” There’s no argument, the weight of the situation settling between them.

The Geth dropship looms above, its dark form a constant threat. Alexis can see it unloading more units, the enemy seemingly endless. They don’t have the firepower to bring it down, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is holding the line.

Garrus moves to the back, his sniper rifle aimed uphill. He takes careful shots, his focus absolute, each pull of the trigger calculated, deliberate. He targets the heavy Geth platforms first, the larger ones that fire from a distance. His shots are precise, each one finding a weak point, armour shattering as the Geth fall.

Wrex takes only a moment to gather himself before charging into the fray. His barrier glows, his shields activated, his massive frame barreling through the Geth ranks. He fires his shotgun at close range, the blast tearing through synthetic bodies. His hands are a weapon too, each punch sending Geth flying, their metal frames crumpling under his strength.

Tali stays behind cover, her omni-tool glowing as she hacks into the Geth systems. She sends overloads, her shotgun blasting at close range. She moves with precision, each hack and shot aimed to cripple, to buy them time. Her heart pounds in her chest, fear a constant companion, but she pushes it down, her focus on the task at hand.

Alexis is in the thick of it, her rifle barking out shots as she moves between covers. Her body moves on instinct, each shot deliberate, her mind a cold, calculated machine. She doesn’t let herself think, doesn’t let herself feel. She’s angry—angry at Saren, at the Reapers, at herself. Angry that she couldn't save Kaidan. She takes that anger out on the Geth, her shots precise, unrelenting.

She spins out of cover, her rifle aimed, her body moving with a fury that borders on feral. She catches sight of a Geth drone, its rocket launcher aimed directly at her. She dives forward, the rocket streaking past her, exploding behind her with a deafening roar. Heat scorches her back, but she doesn’t slow down. She scrambles to her feet, her rifle already aimed, her finger pulling the trigger before she’s even fully upright.

The drone collapses, a hail of bullets ripping through its frame. Garrus’s shot follows, the drone’s head shattering in an explosion of sparks. Alexis doesn’t pause, doesn’t congratulate him. There is no time as she targets the next Geth. They just need to hold out a little longer. They just need to survive. And this mission—this sacrifice—would be worth it.

She’s not going to let Kaidan’s death be in vain.

Wrex picks up the last Geth trooper by its leg, his biotic power surging through his muscles as he crushes its chest while simultaneously ripping the limb off. The synthetic body crumples, the light fading from its optical unit. Above them, the Geth dropship flies away, engines whining as it retreats, its mission failed. The squad stands amidst the wreckage, breathing heavily, adrenaline coursing through their veins. They’ve done it—saved the rest of the Marines and Gunnery Chief Williams, though at a heavy cost.

Alexis takes a step towards Ashley, her muscles aching, the weight of the battle beginning to settle in her bones. But she only manages two steps before a biotic explosion erupts behind her. The shockwave sends her tumbling through the air, her body flipping and twisting as she struggles to regain control. She crashes to the ground, the impact driving the breath from her lungs in a ragged gasp. The rest of the squad dives for cover, their heads swivelling to locate the source of the attack.

Pain radiates through Alexis's body, but she forces herself to her feet, her vision clearing just in time to see him.

Saren.

The rogue Spectre stands on a floating platform above them, his figure illuminated by a malevolent blue glow. His eyes lock on Alexis, his hands crackling with biotic energy as he gathers power for another attack. A sadistic smile curls his mandibles as he takes aim at her.

Hatred flares in Alexis's chest, boiling over into pure, white-hot rage. Her heart pounds as she narrows her focus, blocking out everything except her enemy. Saren leaps from his floating vantage point, landing effortlessly on the ground below—his biotics absorbing the impact without so much as a bend of his knees.

Alexis draws her pistol, her rifle lost somewhere in the water during her tumble. She fixes her eyes on Saren, her hand steady, her anger fueling her determination. The air crackles with tension, every nerve in her body ready for the fight to come. Saren’s biotics glow brighter, and he raises his hands, daring her to make the first move.

Saren smirks, his voice dripping with disdain, “I’ll admit, you put on an impressive show, Commander. My Geth were utterly convinced the Salarians were the real threat.” He lets out a low chuckle. “Of course, it means nothing now. I can’t let you disrupt what I’ve accomplished here. You can’t possibly understand what’s at stake.”

Alexis takes a cautious step forward, her pistol still aimed at his chest. “Then why don’t you enlighten me? All I see is a maniac willing to enslave an entire species for his own agenda,” she says, her voice dripping with contempt. “A man who’s being controlled and doesn’t even realise it. The Reapers destroyed the Protheans, and they’ll do the same to us if we don’t stop them.”

Saren's eyes narrow, his voice sharp. “You’ve got it all wrong, Shepard.” He dismisses her words with a flick of his wrist, like a teacher scolding an ignorant student. “You’ve seen the visions. You should know what the Reapers are capable of. They cannot be stopped.” His tone shifts, almost pleading, as he steps toward her. Alexis instinctively shuffles back, her pistol unwavering. “Do not sacrifice everything for a futile fight. The Protheans fought, and they were annihilated. But if they had submitted—perhaps they would have survived. Submission is better than extinction.”

Alexis feels her heart twist in her chest. How could he have fallen so far? Her voice tightens with anger. “You’re further gone than I thought, Saren. Do you really believe they’ll let you live? They wiped out the Protheans. Submission is nothing but another form of death—only slower.”

Saren clenches his jaw, his composure cracking as he begins to fidget. “You organics are all the same, driven by emotion rather than reason,” he spits out, frustration evident in his eyes. “But if we work with the Reapers—if we prove our worth—think of the lives we could save. Once I understood that, the decision was easy. I joined Sovereign willingly, despite the risks.” He looks down for a moment, almost introspective. “I thought… I hoped this facility would protect me.”

Alexis sees it—doubt. A flicker of fear behind his eyes, something she can exploit. “But it’s not working, is it?” She presses, her voice low, her eyes locked onto his. “You can feel it, can’t you? In the back of your mind. A whisper you can’t quite make out. It’s driving you, controlling you. You’re scared, Saren. You know Sovereign is already influencing you, and you’re powerless to stop it.”

For an instant, the biotic energy around Saren flickers, his confidence wavering. His face twitches, a flash of panic before it’s gone. “I studied indoctrination, Shepard. The more control Sovereign exerts, the less useful the subject becomes. That is my saving grace—Sovereign needs me. It needs me to find the Conduit, so I retain my free will.” He laughs, the sound hollow, as if trying to convince himself. “For now, I am my own master.”

Alexis shakes her head, stepping forward, her voice firm. “Bullshit. You’re already lost, Saren, whether you admit it or not.” She sees his eyes flare with anger, his biotics crackling violently. “But you don’t have to be. You can still fight it, still help us stop Sovereign. What is the Conduit? We could end this together.”

Saren pauses, blinking as if dazed, Alexis's words striking a nerve. He sways on his feet, the biotic glow around him dimming. For a moment, she thinks he might break free, might join her.

“The Conduit…” he murmurs, his gaze distant. “It’s the key to our destruction and my salvation. Sovereign needs it, and that is why I must not be indoctrinated.” His expression hardens, his focus returning, his eyes narrowing at Alexis.

Alexis’s heart sinks. It’s clear—there’s no saving him. His mind is already poisoned, twisted by the Reaper’s influence. “You betrayed the Council, Saren,” she says, her voice filled with bitterness. “You betrayed every living being in the galaxy.”

“NO!” Saren roars, the biotic energy flaring like fire around him. His face contorts in rage, his hands trembling. “SOVEREIGN NEEDS ME! This is my only chance. I will prove myself and earn a reprieve—a reprieve from extinction.”

Alexis sees the desperation in his eyes, the fear that lurks beneath his bluster. A part of him knows what’s coming, but he’s too far gone, clinging to the hope that he can save himself. She lowers her pistol slightly, her eyes softening. “Please, Saren. Don’t do this. You’re better than this. You were a Spectre. You swore an oath to protect the galaxy.”

Saren stares at her, his expression twisted with conflict. He laughs, the sound bitter and broken. “You think you can sway me? Do you think I haven’t considered all of this?” He shakes his head. “Sovereign is a machine. It thinks without emotion, only logic. If I prove my worth, it will keep me. That is the only logical conclusion.”

Alexis’s eyes blaze with determination, her voice a snarl. “You’re sacrificing every living being just to save yourself! You’re no Spectre—you’re a traitor.”

Saren’s eyes narrow, his biotics surging with fury. “I AM DOING THIS FOR ALL OF US! Sovereign will succeed. It’s inevitable. My way is the only way we have any hope of survival.” He shakes his head, his gaze locking with hers. “But you… you would throw it all away, doom us all to annihilation. And for that—YOU MUST DIE!”

Saren hurls a dark sphere of biotic energy, the air around it shimmering with power. Alexis dives forward, narrowly avoiding the blast, the sphere detonating behind her in a violent eruption. She charges at Saren, her pistol firing, the shots ricocheting off his biotic barrier. He swings at her, his fist glowing with biotic force, and she catches the blow, her muscles straining under the impact.

They trade blows—punches charged with biotic energy clashing with sheer determination. Each hit sends ripples of pain through Alexis's body, her armour cracking under the force. Saren towers over her, his blows relentless, his biotics augmenting his every movement, every strike. Alexis can feel the difference—Saren’s sheer physical power, the unnatural strength granted by Sovereign, outmatching her in every way. Every hit that connects is like being struck by a charging Krogan, her bones aching, her muscles screaming in protest.

But Alexis refuses to back down. She uses her agility, her speed, to duck and weave, slipping past his heavier blows when she can. She aims for weak spots—joints, the small gaps in his armour. She knows she can’t match him blow for blow, but she doesn’t need to. She just needs to outlast him, to find an opening.

Saren’s hand comes crashing down, breaking through Alexis’s guard and slamming into her side. Pain flares, her breath hitching as she staggers backwards, her ribs protesting under the force. Saren seizes the opening, his hand wrapping around her throat, lifting her off the ground as if she weighs nothing. Alexis’s fingers claw at his wrist, her vision blurring as the pressure increases. She sees his arm—synthetic, a Geth replacement—and bile rises in her throat at the realisation.

Saren’s grip tightens, his eyes cold, and Alexis feels her strength ebbing. The edges of her vision darken, her lungs burning, her feet kicking out, desperate for leverage. She slams her boot into his torso, her blows growing weaker with each passing second. She can feel the hopelessness creeping in—the crushing reality that she’s outmatched.

A loud noise echoes from nearby, a metallic clang that distracts Saren for just a split second. It’s all Alexis needs. She slams her knee into the side of his head, the impact jarring enough to make him release his grip. She falls to the ground, gasping for breath, her vision swimming. Pain radiates from her throat, her body trembling from the lack of oxygen.

Gritting her teeth, Alexis picks up her pistol, spinning on her knee just as Saren leaps onto his floating platform, erecting a powerful biotic shield. She squeezes the trigger, each shot sparking off the barrier, her anger fueling her desperate attempt to bring him down. Saren rises into the air, his form growing smaller as he retreats, his eyes locking onto hers one final time, filled with disdain and something else—perhaps regret.

Alexis keeps firing, even as the platform vanishes into the distance, her heart pounding in her ears. The echoes of her shots fade into silence, the only sound her ragged breathing.

She rubs her neck, her fingers brushing over the dents Saren’s grip left in her armour. She forces herself to her feet, her squad coming over, their eyes filled with questions, concern. Alexis waves them off, her voice hoarse. “Set the bomb. Let’s get out of here.”

Without another word, they turn and follow her command. Alexis opens her comms, her voice steady but empty. “Joker, pick up the Salarians at the rendezvous point and come get us. We’re done here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Joker’s voice holds an edge of hesitation, but he doesn’t push further. Alexis knows he wants to ask, to know what happened, but she isn’t ready to talk.

She takes one last look at the space where Saren had stood. The mission was a success—Virmire would be destroyed, along with the Krogan breeding facility. But as she thinks of Kaidan, of the people they lost, Alexis feels only the weight of her own failure.

~~~~

Back aboard the Normandy, Alexis stands in the cargo bay, her eyes fixed on the closing doors, watching as they seal her off from the horrors of Virmire. The ship tilts, and she feels the acceleration as Joker pulls them away from Saren's base—away from everything that went wrong, away from the death and destruction that clings to her like a shadow she cannot shake.

“Hold on tight, everyone,” Joker’s voice crackles through the ship’s comm system, almost a distant echo in the chaos of her mind. His tone is steady, professional, but Alexis barely registers the words. Her thoughts are a swirling storm, chaotic and relentless.

The rest of the crew in the cargo bay keeps their distance. They’re close enough to see her tension but far enough to avoid the storm they sense brewing. Only Tali dares come near. She leans into Alexis's back, her hands resting gently on her shoulders, offering comfort the only way she knows how. Alexis doesn’t turn, doesn’t speak—she’s focused on the void that feels like it’s tearing her apart from within. Her whole body feels like it’s buzzing with unspent energy, a need to lash out at something, anything, just to find a release.

She’s standing by a table in the corner, her fists clenched so tight the gauntlets of her armour groan under the pressure. The aftermath of Virmire is vivid in her mind: Kaidan’s voice over the comms, his last words, the deafening silence after. And then the blast—the unrelenting detonation that swallowed everything, erasing all hope of recovery, all hope of saying goodbye. The flash of light and the rumble that shook the earth felt like it was shaking her soul, like a finality she wasn't ready to face.

Her whole body shakes. Anger, regret, grief—it all twists inside her like a vice, and she can’t stop it, can’t quell the fury roaring in her chest. She feels like she’s drowning, pulled under by the weight of everything she couldn’t control, couldn’t fix. Her brow creases, and without warning, she moves, the rage finally escaping in a burst she can't contain.

“Damn it!” The words rip from her throat, raw and broken, as her fist slams into the wall. The metal dents beneath her blow, the impact reverberating up her arm, but the pain is nothing compared to the storm inside her. The vibration travels up her arm, but it doesn’t satisfy the burning within her. She wants more—needs to feel something that matches the intensity of her emotions.

The bay falls silent—all eyes on her. The Salarians, her crew, Ashley—they all turn to look, startled, uncertain. No one speaks. No one dares approach. Tali’s hands squeeze her shoulders, a subtle pressure that the suit sensors relay, the closest thing to a comforting touch. Alexis closes her eyes, feeling it but unable to react, knowing it’s supposed to help but feeling nothing but the emptiness it fails to fill.

She knows they don’t deserve her anger. They fought with her, they gave everything they had, but all she can feel is this crushing weight—this maddening, suffocating sense of failure. She can’t think straight; her thoughts are scattered, broken by grief and rage and the overwhelming emptiness left in the wake of her choices. She can still hear Kaidan’s voice, still see the determination in his eyes, the courage in his last moments. The weight of it all crashes over her like a wave, threatening to pull her under again.

Without a word, she spins on her heel, marching toward the elevator. Her boots clang against the metal floor, the sound echoing like the hollow ache in her chest. She pauses at the elevator, turning her head just enough to glance at the people assembled—her crew, her allies, those who survived when others didn’t. She tries to compose herself, to find words that make sense, but nothing comes. Her voice is brittle, a poor shield against the flood of emotion.

“Comm room, one hour,” she says, her tone harsh, and before anyone can respond, the door shuts, cutting her off from the world.

In the solitude of the elevator, Alexis loses what little composure she had left. The tears come, unstoppable, burning hot as they streak down her cheeks. She presses her hands against the wall, her helmet resting against the cool metal, her eyes squeezed shut. The sobs tear through her, raw and ugly, her body wracked by the sheer weight of it all. Her knees buckle, and she slides down the wall, her armour scraping against the metal, until she’s sitting on the cold floor of the elevator, her head bowed.

She’d lost. She’d lost Kaidan. She’d lost Salarians, her own Marines—people who believed in her, who trusted her to bring them home. And she’d failed. The choices she made, the orders she gave—they all led to this moment, to her standing alone, shattered by the consequences. The guilt gnaws at her, tearing at her insides like a predator that won’t let go. It wasn’t just a loss—it was her failure, her inability to save those who counted on her.

She remembers the look on Kaidan’s face the last time she saw him, the calm acceptance that made her heart twist painfully. She had made a decision, the best one she could under the circumstances, but it hadn’t been enough. It never felt like enough. The emptiness left by his absence is a gaping wound that she doesn’t know how to heal.

In the dim, confined space of the elevator, Alexis allows herself to break. For the first time in a long time, she lets the grief consume her, lets herself feel every ounce of the pain she’s been holding back, her sobs echoing in the emptiness. The fight had taken so much, and now, alone, she lets herself acknowledge it. She’s lost, and for the moment, there’s nothing she can do but grieve.

She grips the sides of her helmet, pressing her palms against her head, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The emptiness inside her chest feels infinite, a void that nothing can fill. She hates herself for it, for being weak, for letting this moment consume her. But it’s real—this pain, this loss. It’s real, and she has no choice but to face it.

The tears don’t stop, not for a long time. She feels her throat burn, her chest ache, but the sobs keep coming. Every gasp, every tear is a reminder of what she lost—of who she lost. She can’t bring them back, can’t change what happened, but she can feel it, let herself hurt for them. It’s the only thing she can do for them now.

Eventually, the sobs begin to subside, her breathing slowly evening out. The elevator is quiet again, her cries no longer echoing off the walls. The silence feels heavy, but it’s different now—less suffocating, more resigned. She draws in a shaky breath, her eyes red and puffy, her head pounding from the force of her grief.

She pushes herself back to her feet, her body feeling heavy, her movements sluggish. She looks at her reflection in the metal walls, her eyes red behind her visor before she darkens it to block them from view. She’s not okay—not by a long shot—but she has to keep moving. For Kaidan. For the others. For everyone who’s still counting on her.

She straightens her shoulders, her hands dropping to her sides. There’s still a mission to complete, still a galaxy that needs saving. She can’t afford to fall apart, not for long. Alexis takes another deep breath, steadying herself. She presses the button for the elevator to take her to the comm room, her eyes hardening with determination. The pain is still there, lingering, a reminder of what she’s lost. But she won’t let it stop her.

She has to keep going. For them. For herself. For the future they all fought for.

Chapter 12: XII

Summary:

Post-Virmire and Citadel escape, approach to Ilos

Notes:

I totally didn't almost forget to post this because I have been playing Vintage Story...

We are on approach to Ilos now!

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

Alexis sits down heavily at her desk, her body feeling as if the weight of the entire galaxy is pressing down on her shoulders. The desk in her quarters is dimly lit, the room quiet except for the soft hum of the Normandy around her—a sound that usually brings her comfort. But right now, comfort feels impossibly far away. Staring at the computer screen in front of her, she knows there is only one person she needs to talk to, someone who might just help her find some way out of the aching turmoil that threatens to consume her.

With shaky hands, she locks the door to her quarters, her fingers hovering over the terminal as she dials. The comm line rings, each second feeling like an eternity. Alexis swallows hard, her throat dry as a desert, and tries her best to suppress the rising fear that the call might go unanswered. She needs this connection—needs it desperately in a way she can't fully articulate. The thought of hearing nothing on the other end terrifies her. It has to be answered. Any other time, she could have dealt with it—the missed call, the unanswered line. But not now. Now, if she is left alone with her thoughts, she isn’t sure what she’d do.

Finally, the ringing stops, and her screen blinks to life. The familiar red of a Quarian environmental suit fills her vision, and she can feel some of the tension ease from her chest. Mari’Saalas—her mother—appears, her glowing eyes instantly locking onto Alexis, concern radiating from her expression.

"Two calls so close..." Mari begins to say, her voice soft but filled with warmth. Then she trails off, the words dying on her lips as she truly looks at her daughter—taking in the scorch marks on her armour, the weary, haunted look in her eyes even behind the visor. "Lexi," she whispers, her tone shifting instantly. "Lexi, what happened?" There is an urgency there now, a mother’s intuition immediately sensing the depth of her daughter's distress.

Alexis tries to find her voice, but nothing comes. She struggles to breathe, the lump in her throat making it impossible to get the words out.

“Honey, look at me,” Mari pleads, her voice gentle but firm, the way she used to speak to Alexis when she was little, scared after waking from a nightmare. Alexis lifts her head, meeting her mother’s glowing eyes on the screen, and the raw pain in her expression makes Mari’s heart clench.

“I… I fucked up,” Alexis finally manages, her voice cracking. Tears burn in her eyes, and she squeezes them shut, trying to stop them from falling.

Mari leans closer to the screen, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she could somehow bridge the distance between them just by speaking softly enough. “Can you tell me how?” She knows she needs to be patient—her daughter is strong, but right now, Alexis is on the verge of breaking. Mari has only seen her like this once or twice in her entire life, and each time it has taken all the patience she has to coax her daughter back to herself.

Alexis takes in a shaky breath, her chest aching. “Saren got away,” she starts, her words laced with bitterness. “I had him. I literally had him right in front of me. I fucking punched that smug Turian bastard and… I lost him.” She laughs, but it is a broken, hollow sound. Her breathing grows ragged as she tries to force out the next part, the words like poison in her mouth. “And… Mum… Kaidan’s dead. He died fighting those Geth, and it’s my fault. If I’d just… done anything else, he’d be alive. I killed him.”

Mari’s heart twists painfully in her chest at the sight of her daughter’s tears, her voice breaking over the name of her lost comrade. She can see the weight of Alexis’s guilt, the way her shoulders sag, her head bowed. Mari stays silent for a few seconds, taking in the raw grief and agony on her daughter’s face. She knows Lieutenant Alenko—knows how much he meant to Alexis. One of the few people her daughter had let her guard down around, even if only a little. His loss is more than just another casualty—it is a wound that has cut her daughter to her core.

“You didn’t kill him, Lexi,” Mari says, her voice gentle but resolute. She knows she has to be direct now—her daughter needs to hear the truth, no matter how much it hurts.

“What?” Alexis blinks, her eyes wide with disbelief, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “How can you say that? If I had sent Ashley with him, or—or taken my squad down to three, or anything, he’d be alive. I made the decision. I sent him with the Salarians. It’s my fault. I killed Kaidan. I—”

“Lexi,” Mari cuts her off, her voice firm. The sound of her mother’s command instantly silences Alexis, drawing her full attention. “What was Kaidan doing with the Salarians?”

Alexis swallows hard, her voice barely a whisper. “Providing a distraction at the front of Saren’s base so I could get in undetected.”

“And why did you send him with them?”

“They needed help to complete the mission,” Alexis says, her voice cracking. She hates this—hates having to say it all out loud, to relive every detail.

“And why Kaidan?” Mari presses, her tone unwavering.

Alexis inhales shakily, her mind slipping into the cold, analytical mindset she uses in the field. “He was the only option. The Salarians wouldn’t have followed Wrex. Garrus could’ve done it, but he’s never commanded before. I wanted...needed Tali to get through the base—Liara doesn’t have leadership experience or much combat experience, and Ashley… she wouldn’t work well with the Salarians.”

“So, after all that analysis, is there a single other command you could’ve given that would’ve changed the outcome?” Mari asks, her voice softer now, though still insistent.

Alexis stares at the screen, her mother’s eyes watching her, waiting. She wants to argue, to shout that there had to have been another way—but the truth is right there, staring her in the face. She’d made the only decision she could. Her actions had led to Kaidan’s death, but they were always going to—there was no other path that would have spared him.

“No,” she finally whispers, her voice barely audible. “There isn’t.” She closes her eyes, trying to compose herself, trying to steady the quiver in her voice. “And yet, I still feel like it’s my fault.”

Mari nods slowly, her heart aching for her daughter. “And you always will,” she says, leaning forward in her chair, her eyes locked on Alexis’s. “I was in a similar situation years ago,” she continues, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “My first command, actually. We were sent to rescue a science team. Pirates had attacked them—they were entrenched, and the scientists were in danger. Eight of us went in… three of us came back.”

Alexis’s eyes widen, her heart sinking at her mother’s words. “What… what went wrong?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

Mari gives a sad smile, shaking her head. “Nothing went wrong, Lexi. Everything went according to plan. We got in, took out the pirates, got the scientists out. But I gave the order to engage, knowing it was likely that not all of us would make it out alive. The research was vital to the Fleet. I made the call—and three men and two women didn’t come back. Including…” She hesitates, her voice catching. “Including my partner at the time.”

Alexis feels her heart break for her mother. She’d known Mari had lost people, but she’d never heard the full stories. And to know that her mother had lost a partner—someone she loved—it makes Alexis’s own grief feel even sharper, knowing her mother has carried this weight for so long. “How did you get past it?” Alexis asks, her voice small, almost childlike.

Mari sighs, her eyes closing for a moment as she gathers her thoughts. “I don’t know that I ever have,” she admits. “Being a soldier—especially a commander—means making decisions that affect lives. You’ve been lucky, Alexis. You’ve gone years without losing anyone under your command directly due to your orders. But this… this is part of the job. You’ll never get used to it.”

Alexis feels tears welling up again, her chest tightening. “Then what do I do?” she asks, her voice cracking, the desperation clear in her tone.

Mari’s expression softens, her eyes filled with love and empathy. “There are only two things you can do, Lexi,” she says. “You can let this destroy you—let the guilt consume you until there’s nothing left. Or… you can live with it. Feel the pain, let it hurt, but keep moving forward. Learn from it. Honour Kaidan’s memory by doing what he would’ve wanted—by finishing the mission, by protecting those who are still here. You have to keep going, for the ones left behind. Otherwise… what was the point of their sacrifice?”

Alexis sits back in her chair, her mother’s words sinking in. She knows Mari is right. She has to keep going—for Kaidan, for the crew, for everyone who is counting on her. She can’t let this break her. Not now, not with so much at stake. “Guess I have to keep moving, then,” she says, her voice shaky but resolute.

Mari smiles, a soft, proud smile. “What’s your next move, Lexi?”

Alexis takes a deep breath, trying to focus her thoughts. “I need to go back to the Citadel, report what I’ve got to the Council,” she says, her mind already shifting gears. “Wait… the vision from the Beacon. I need to link minds with Liara again, get her to help me make sense of it.”

Mari nods. “Then best get to it.”

Alexis looks at her mother, the love and support in her eyes giving her strength. She isn’t okay—not yet—but this is a start. She doubts she’ll get over Kaidan’s death anytime soon, but she can take the first step. “Thanks, Mum,” she says, her voice soft but sincere.

“Anytime, honey. Make sure you lean on those around you, don't struggle alone,” Mari replies, her smile warm and genuine. They share a long look before they end the call, the screen going dark once more.

Alexis sits back in her chair, breathing out slowly. She shifts her focus from the grief and guilt that have been consuming her back to the mission at hand. There will be time to grieve later. For now, she has to stop Saren—she has to make sure Kaidan’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain.

She calls up the coordinates for the Mu Relay she received from Benezia, her eyes narrowing as she reads the data. Alexis groans softly. The coordinates are exactly where she doesn’t want them to be—in the Terminus Systems. She’ll need the Council’s permission to go there, and she knows they’ll be reluctant at best. This is going to be a hard sell—three people who barely trust her, let alone like her. They’ll almost certainly say no.

She could just take the Normandy and go, but she’d be arrested the moment she returned, even if she succeeded. No—she has to do this by the book, no matter how much she hates it.

Alexis stands, her resolve hardening. She needs to prepare her most convincing argument, to make the Council see that this is their only chance. She has to get this right.

~~~~

Alexis stands in the comm room of the Normandy, her body feeling heavy despite the new suit she wears in place of her scorched armour. As her crew files in and takes their seats, she notices Captain Kirrahe's absence. She assumes the Salarian had wanted nothing more than to get back home and await his next assignment. She can't blame him—this mission wasn't something anyone would volunteer for unless they had to. One wrong move could mean death, and Alexis has already learned that firsthand. Even if it had been the only way the rest of them made it out alive, she bears the scars now.

Tali sits down next to Alexis, her eyes tracing over her Captain with care. She gently places her hand on Alexis's gloved one, squeezing it softly. Alexis appears composed, the turmoil she had displayed an hour ago seemingly gone, but Tali can still sense the grief that lingers beneath the surface. Her body language gives her away, though only someone who knows Alexis as well as Tali does could see it. She knows Alexis is back in control, ready to lead, but the question remains—is this real composure, or just a fragile mask?

“Before anyone says anything about it, we will not be discussing Lieutenant Alenko’s death,” Alexis begins, her tone flat and commanding, her gaze fixed ahead. She can feel the crew's surprised glances; they’d all seen her grief, the loss that had struck her harder than anything before. Tali watches the others shift in their seats, the shock palpable as the silence stretches. Alexis doesn’t acknowledge their reaction, her voice as cold as steel. “We have to focus on the mission. There will be time for grieving later.”

The tension in the room thickens as she continues, “Saren must be stopped. To do that, we have to go through the Mu Relay and get to Ilos. From the coordinates we got from Matriarch Benezia, it's clear the relay lies in the Terminus Systems.” She hears the crew whisper amongst themselves—they hadn't had a chance to see the coordinates before, not with Virmire taking priority.

“Commander? Excuse me for interrupting,” Liara’s voice breaks through the murmurs, her expression both hesitant and earnest. “I think I may be able to help. The Beacon at Saren’s base… it seemed remarkably similar to the one on Eden Prime. I believe it may have given you more information—information that we can unlock together, like before.”

Alexis nods, giving a small, humourless smile. “Exactly what I was thinking, Liara.”

Liara rises and approaches Alexis. Alexis closes her eyes, her heart pounding slightly as she readies herself. She hates this—the vulnerability, the invasive nature of it all. She feels Tali’s fingers squeeze hers again, offering comfort, and she holds on tightly. “Relax, Shepard,” Liara murmurs gently, placing her hands on either side of Alexis's head, her glowing eyes locking onto Alexis’s visor. “Embrace eternity!”

The vision consumes her. The images are sharper now, more vivid. Protheans falling in their hundreds, their deaths a futile scream against the overwhelming tide of Reaper destruction. Cities crumbling, planets burning. The agony of a species being wiped out. The sound that had once been garbled and distant becomes horrifically clear—screaming, the last terrified cries of the dying. The panic, the hopelessness—it crashes over Alexis, a torrent that threatens to drown her in its sorrow.

She feels her heart twist, her breath hitching in her chest. If the Protheans had no chance… what hope did they have? And then, amidst the chaos, comes something new—a glimpse of Ilos, two stars locked in a dance, orbiting one another, a flash of a familiar planet—coordinates. Clear and precise, burned into her mind by the Cipher.

Liara pulls away, her eyes wide, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Alexis blinks, her vision still swimming, the lingering horror clinging to her senses. “That was… more intense than before,” Liara murmurs, swaying slightly. Tali reaches out, steadying her, as Liara continues, “It’s a distress call. A warning, perhaps. But it was too late. The Reapers struck before anyone could react. Their destruction was… complete.” Her eyes turn to Alexis, searching. “Did you see something else, Commander?”

Alexis takes a breath, steadying herself, her voice low. “Coordinates. Exact coordinates for the Conduit on Ilos.” Her jaw tightens, frustration simmering beneath her composure. “But it’s in the Terminus Systems. We need the Council’s permission to even get close to it.”

Ashley’s voice cuts through the room, sharp and fierce. “Screw the Council! If the Conduit’s on Ilos, then we go there! We can’t just sit around waiting for their approval.”

Alexis turns to her, her expression pained but resolute. “I agree, Williams. But it’s not that simple. If we go, we risk starting a war. The Terminus Systems aren’t Alliance territory. If we go in, we’ll either be fired on or cause a diplomatic incident that we can’t afford right now.” She exhales sharply, her eyes narrowing. “And even if we get through undetected, the moment we’re back in Council space, we’ll be arrested. And with Saren’s fleet, we need more firepower than just the Normandy. We need the Council’s support.”

She pauses, glancing over her crew, their expressions a mixture of frustration, determination, and fear. She knows they all want to keep moving, to act—but this is a situation that requires more than brute force. “Joker, get me the Council. Everyone else, dismissed.”

The crew rises, filing out of the room slowly, some glancing back at her with a mixture of concern and respect. Alexis squares her shoulders, standing tall in the centre of the room, her hands folded behind her back. She doesn’t relish what comes next—begging for help from three people who’ve doubted her every step of the way. But what choice does she have?

Within moments, the holograms flicker to life, the Asari Councillor's serene face addressing her first. “Commander Shepard, I’m pleased to hear the mission on Virmire was a success.”

The Turian Councillor, for once, seems almost pleased. “Indeed. Saren is formidable enough without an army of Krogan at his disposal.”

Alexis draws in a breath, her gaze hardening. “The Krogan wouldn’t have served Saren—they would have served Sovereign. A Reaper.”

All three Councillors exchange looks, scepticism plain on their faces. The Salarian Councillor speaks first, his voice measured, “Yes, you mentioned that in your report. Sovereign. A sentient machine… a true AI, which is quite… alarming, if accurate.”

Shepard bites her tongue, suppressing her frustration. “It is accurate, Councillor. Sovereign is a Reaper, and it’s very real. Saren admitted it himself.”

The Turian Councillor shakes his head dismissively. “Please, Shepard. He’s playing you. Saren likely saw your earlier reports, saw your mention of the Reapers, and used it against you.”

“Commander,” the Asari Councillor interjects, her voice still calm. “Try to see this from our perspective. We know Saren is a threat. We see him. We understand the danger. But the Reapers? As far as we can tell, they exist only in your visions.”

The Salarian Councillor nods, his gaze almost pitying. “We need more than the word of one person, even if that person is a Spectre. Our decisions affect trillions of lives, Commander. We cannot risk it on… unproven claims.”

Alexis feels her jaw clench, the frustration building in her chest. “I’ve given you all the evidence I have. I’m not asking for blind faith—I’m asking you to trust me, to see the threat for what it is before it’s too late.”

The Salarian Councillor shakes his head, his voice weary. “The Council cannot take official action. That is why the Spectres exist, Commander. You have the authority to act as you see fit.”

“If you truly believe Sovereign is the threat,” the Turian Councillor adds, “then do what you must to stop it. But you’ll do it alone. The Council will not be providing any official assistance.”

Alexis takes a deep breath, her mind racing. She has one more card to play. “Then I need a fleet. The Conduit is on Ilos, and I’m certain Saren has his own forces there. We need to break through to reach it.”

The Councillors bristle at her request. The Turian Councillor speaks, his voice sharp, “Return to the Citadel, Commander. We’ll discuss this further when you arrive.”

Before she can respond, the holograms vanish. Alexis blinks, momentarily stunned by the abrupt end of the conversation. She stands there for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts, her frustration simmering.

“Back to the Citadel, then?” Joker’s voice crackles through the speakers, his tone cautious.

Alexis lets out a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Yeah. Looks like we don’t have much of a choice.”

She knows the Council is stalling, hesitating to commit to the action they know is needed. And it infuriates her. But she will find a way—for Kaidan, for her crew, for everyone depending on her.

“Yes, ma’am,” Joker replies, the Normandy shifting course. Alexis feels the subtle change in the ship’s direction, her heart heavy as she leaves the comm room. She has no choice but to keep moving forward, even if it means facing the Council once again.

She will convince them. She has to.

Alexis marches into the Council chamber behind Ambassador Udina and Captain Anderson, the weight of her Quarian upbringing gnawing at the edge of her thoughts. The ship—*her* ship—was more than just a vessel. It was her lifeline, her home, the anchor to everything she fought for. It had always been this way for her, growing up alongside Quarians who lived by the ships they called home, who nurtured their vessels like family. And now, to have it locked away, taken from her by bureaucrats who only saw the Normandy as a tool for leverage, it makes her blood boil.

The Council members are already in place as Alexis enters, and she forces herself to keep her head high, her body tense beneath the Quarian-style suit she wears. The hiss of her breathing inside the helmet grounds her. She knows she has to try and make this right.

Udina speaks as they walk, clearly trying to set the stage, “Good job, Shepard. Thanks to you, the Council is finally taking real action against Saren!”

Alexis feels her brow furrow behind the visor. There’s something off about this. “They changed their minds in the few hours it took me to get back to the Citadel?” she asks, suspicion heavy in her tone.

“Yes, it would seem so,” Udina replies, his voice too smooth for her liking.

“Ambassador, Commander, Captain, thank you for coming,” the Asari Councillor’s voice echoes through the grand chamber, drawing everyone’s attention forward. “The Council has decided to take your word on faith, Commander.” Alexis is taken aback by their sudden willingness to believe her, but the momentary flash of hope dies quickly in her chest. Something about this feels too easy. “If Saren is as great a threat as you say, we need to be ready for anything. If he is to attack the Citadel, he will find no easy purchase here.”

The Turian Councillor continues, “Patrols are stationed at every Mass Relay linking Citadel space to the Terminus Systems.”

Alexis can’t help but feel her heart drop at the direction this is going. They’re protecting themselves—not taking the fight to Saren, not giving her what she needs to go after the real threat. “What about Ilos?” she demands. “How many ships are you sending there?”

The Salarian Councillor shakes his head, his voice even but dismissive. “Ilos is only accessible through the Mu Relay, deep inside the Terminus Systems, Commander. If we send a full-scale attack there, the only outcome will be all-out war.”

Udina turns to Alexis, that infuriatingly self-important look on his face, “Now is the time for discretion, Shepard. Saren’s greatest weapon was secrecy. Exposed, he is no longer a threat. This is over.”

“Are you blind?” Alexis can no longer contain her fury, the raw anger in her voice startling even herself. “Secrecy isn’t his weapon, the Conduit is! And if he gets his hands on it, the Reapers will wipe all life as we know it from the face of the galaxy!”

“Saren is a master manipulator.” The Salarian Councillor shakes his head again, condescending as always. “The Conduit is just a distraction from his real goal to attack the Citadel.”

Alexis feels her fingers clench into fists at her sides, her rage threatening to choke her. They were still dismissing the threat—the warning in her vision that haunted her every step since Eden Prime. The Council were supposed to be the protectors of the galaxy, yet here they stood, content to do nothing.

She tries one last time, her voice desperate, pleading. “Then send me after them. One ship won’t start a war. The Normandy has stealth drives. I can be discreet.”

The Turian Councillor scoffs, clearly unmoved by her words, “Discreet? I wouldn’t call detonating a nuclear device on Virmire discreet.”

Alexis opens her mouth to argue, but the Asari Councillor speaks next, her voice calm yet dismissive. Alexis had hoped, hoped the Asari might have understood. But her tone is no different from the rest. “Your style has served you well in the Traverse, Commander. We recognize that. But Ilos requires a deft touch. We have the situation under control.”

“Bosh’tet!” Alexis yells, the word echoing through the chamber and silencing everyone within it, even Udina. Her heart pounds in her ears, her entire body trembling with barely contained rage. “If Saren finds the Conduit, we’re all dead! We have to get to Ilos before he does!”

The Turian Councillor simply ignores Alexis’s eruption, his cold gaze settling on Udina instead. “Ambassador Udina, I get the sense Commander Shepard is not willing to let this go.”

Alexis doesn’t even turn as Udina responds, his voice dripping with frustration. “There are serious political implications here, Shepard. Humanity’s made great gains thanks to you. But now you’re becoming more trouble than you’re worth.”

Alexis turns on him, her eyes flashing behind her helmet as she takes a step closer, towering over the ambassador. She doesn’t say a word, her chest heaving, her hand trembling with the urge to punch Udina’s smug face. She sees the sweat bead on his forehead, his throat bobbing nervously as he swallows. Her fury burns bright, her voice low and dangerous as she speaks. “You think you’re going to get away with this? You’ve killed us all.”

Suddenly, Anderson’s hand is on her arm, his voice in her ear, barely a whisper. “Now isn’t the time. Trust me.”

Alexis stares down Udina a moment longer, her vision narrowing, but she lets Anderson pull her back. Her rage simmers beneath the surface, but she knows Anderson is right. If she lost it now, they’d all be doomed.

Udina, looking far too pleased with himself, continues, his voice dripping with smug authority, “It’s just politics, Commander. You’ve done your job; now let me do mine. We’ve locked down all the Normandy’s primary systems. Until further notice, you’re grounded.”

A flash of pain slices through Alexis’s chest at his words—grounded. The Normandy, locked away, out of her reach, her home taken from her. It feels like a betrayal of the deepest kind, one that cuts to her very core. For the Quarians, losing a ship was akin to losing a part of their soul. And now, after everything she’d fought for, the Normandy was being stripped from her.

She remembers how it felt growing up, watching her mother Mari treat every bolt, every panel of a ship like it was part of the family. The ship was a symbol of survival, of connection. And now, these bosh'tets were going to strip that from her, as though it meant nothing. As though she meant nothing.

“You son of a bitch,” Alexis spits, her voice trembling with fury. “After everything I’ve done, this is how you repay me? You take my ship—my home—away from me?”

She lunges forward, and Anderson tightens his grip, physically holding her back. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her vision blurring with tears of frustration and rage. Anderson’s voice is firm, almost pleading, “Shepard. Not now.”

Udina, clearly shaken, but doing his best to mask it, mutters, “I think it’s time for you to leave, Commander. This no longer concerns you. The Council will handle this, with my help, of course.”

Anderson has to drag Alexis away, her entire body tense, the fury radiating off of her in waves. He’s worried she’ll break free, that she’ll do something reckless, but she lets him lead her out of the chamber, her footsteps heavy with barely contained rage.

As they step into the lobby, Alexis’s voice is low, almost a growl, her words laced with fury. “I’m going to kill him. Keelah, I’m going to rip his heart out with my bare hands.”

Anderson pulls her away from prying eyes, his tone softening. “Listen to me, Shepard. There’s nothing you can do about it right now. The Council and Udina have made their play, and they’ve won this round.”

Alexis’s eyes blaze behind her visor as she looks at Anderson, her voice breaking. “What am I supposed to do, Anderson? Sit back and watch while they let the galaxy burn? Watch them take the Normandy from me?” The anguish in her voice is palpable, and Anderson can hear the echo of her upbringing—the Quarian reverence for their ships, the pain of losing something that was supposed to be hers to protect.

Anderson steps closer, his voice low and urgent. “I’m not asking you to do nothing, Shepard. I’ve got an idea—a way to make this right. But I need you to trust me. I need you to do exactly what I say, or none of this will work. Can you do that?”

Alexis takes a shaky breath, her rage still simmering beneath the surface, but she nods. At this point, she has no other choice.

“Yes, sir,” she says, her voice hoarse but resolute.

Anderson nods. “Go back to the Normandy. Wait there until I give the word. Got it?”

Alexis nods again, her jaw clenched tight. “Got it.”

“Good. Now go,” Anderson says, his eyes meeting hers with a look that tells her to hold on, to have faith.

Alexis turns on her heel and marches away, her steps heavy with determination. Anderson watches her go before heading off in the opposite direction, both of them knowing the roles they now had to play if they wanted any chance of pulling this off.

Alexis enters the Normandy in silence, her footsteps echoing through the metallic hallway as she marches straight from the airlock to her private quarters. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes. The whole crew knows about the lockdown by now—they can feel the weight of it pressing down on them, the same way Alexis feels it squeezing her heart. There’s a bleakness in the air, an unspoken resignation. They know they’ve failed, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

The door to Alexis’s quarters closes with a soft hiss, sealing her off from the ship, from the crew, from everything. She sinks into her chair at her desk, her fingers drumming across the surface as she stares at her reflection. The sight is almost unrecognizable—bags hang beneath her eyes, her brow creased with exhaustion. She’s running on fumes, about one decent sleep since Eden Prime. She knows she can keep going, but for how long? How long before the cracks splinter into something irreparable? It all depends on how fast Anderson acts on whatever plan he has up his sleeve.

But even if Anderson finds a way to lift the lockdown, they’re still losing time. Time to get to Ilos, to get to the Conduit before Saren. Every second counts, and they’re stuck here, grounded by a Council that refuses to see reason. Alexis clenches her jaw, the bitter frustration simmering inside her. She needs to do something. Anything. She needs the Normandy in perfect condition for what’s to come. If the ship isn’t ready, it’s going to cost them all—and Alexis isn’t willing to lose any more than she already has.

A knock at her door startles her from her thoughts. She takes a deep breath before calling out, “It’s open!” The door slides open, and even before she hears the footsteps, Alexis knows who it is.

Tali steps inside, the door closing behind her. She looks around the room for a brief moment before her gaze settles on Alexis. The way Alexis’s shoulders slump, her head bowed, tells Tali all she needs to know. Kaidan’s death and the lockdown of the Normandy have pushed Alexis to the edge. She’s a breath away from breaking, holding herself together through sheer willpower alone.

“Any way to lift the lockdown, Tali?” Alexis’s voice is tired, almost defeated.

Tali moves further into the room, perching on the edge of the bed. “Not from here,” she admits. “The Normandy’s cyber warfare suite is designed to withstand outside interference—even from me. It’d take too long to bypass it.”

Alexis nods, her fingers still tapping restlessly on the desk. “Thought so. Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Tali studies her for a moment, her head tilting slightly. “Are you okay, Alexis?” she asks softly.

Alexis finally turns her head to meet Tali’s gaze. “Of course,” she replies. “We’ll figure a way out of this.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Tali leans forward, her voice gentle but firm. “Forget the mission for a second. Are you okay?”

Alexis swallows, her gaze dropping. She should have known that Tali would see through her. She always does. “Honestly? No,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. She pauses, struggling to find the right words. “I… damn it… I’m still in the fight, till the end. But it’s… it’s so hard.”

Tali stands up and moves to Alexis’s side, wrapping her arms around her. The gesture is warm, steady, and it breaks through the last of Alexis’s walls. Alexis leans back into Tali, her hand coming up to rest atop Tali’s arm. “I know,” Tali whispers. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, not with me. You can let go. I’m here.”

Alexis closes her eyes, a shuddering breath escaping her lips. “Can it be now?” she asks, her voice a broken whisper, so quiet that Tali barely catches it.

“Of course,” Tali replies, her voice unwavering.

Alexis stands, her legs feeling weak beneath her as she moves to the couch, holding onto Tali’s hand like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. They sit down together, and Alexis leans into Tali, their helmets bumping gently. For a moment, Alexis hesitates, her vulnerability an unfamiliar feeling. But with Tali, it feels okay—safe, even. She allows herself to let go, to let her guard down. “I’ve lost soldiers before,” Alexis says, her voice cracking. “Only a few, but it’s never felt like this. I’ve never felt this kind of guilt… like it’s my fault.” Tears prick her eyes, her vision blurring. She blinks them away, her throat tight. “I keep wondering if there was something I could’ve done differently. Some way to save him.”

“Maybe there wasn’t anything you could’ve done,” Tali says softly.

Alexis lifts her head, her voice trembling. “There wasn’t. I know that much. I’ve gone over it again and again. I made the only choice I could. And now I have to live with that.” She takes a deep breath. “My mum put it like this—I can either let it consume me, or I can move forward with the pain. But I… I don’t know if I can.” She shakes her head. “I can finish the mission, but after…”

“You’ll get through it,” Tali says, her voice steady. Alexis raises an eyebrow, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes. Tali smiles, a soft, reassuring smile. “You will. It might take time, but you will. You’re by far the strongest person I know, Alexis.” She sees the faint blush that colours Alexis’s cheeks and continues, “And if you can’t do it alone, I’ll help. I’ll be here, every step of the way.”

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Alexis smiles. It’s a genuine smile, small but real, and it surprises her how good it feels. She lets herself lean further into Tali, taking comfort in the warmth and closeness. “Thanks, Tali,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “It means a lot.”

Tali smiles back, her eyes warm behind her visor. “Anytime, Alexis.”

Alexis wraps her arms around Tali’s shoulders, holding her close, her face pressing into the crook of Tali’s neck. The hug is more than just a gesture—it’s a release, a way to let go of everything she’s been holding in. They stay like that for a long moment, the silence between them filled with a quiet understanding, an unspoken promise of support. “Thank you, Tali,” Alexis whispers, her voice muffled.

“Always,” Tali replies, her voice equally soft, her arms tightening around Alexis.

The warmth of Tali’s embrace brings a small sense of comfort that Alexis didn’t realize how much she needed. Slowly, the tension begins to melt away, and she lets herself breathe a little deeper, a little more freely. In this moment, there’s no mission, no Council, no impossible odds—only Tali and the way her presence fills the emptiness that’s been clawing at Alexis’s insides since Virmire. There’s solace here, and Alexis lets herself soak in it, feeling Tali’s gentle strength bolster her own.

After a while, Tali leans back slightly, her hands resting on Alexis’s shoulders, her gaze searching. “You don’t have to carry it all by yourself,” she says, her voice almost a whisper. “Not with me. You’ve always had my back, Alexis. Let me have yours.”

Alexis nods, her throat tight with emotion she can’t quite express. “I just… I never wanted to let anyone in like this. I thought if I let my guard down, I’d be weaker.” She laughs softly, though there’s no humour in it. “Turns out, keeping it all in is what’s breaking me.”

Tali’s fingers squeeze Alexis’s shoulders gently. “You’re not weak for needing help. And you’re not alone, not now, not ever.” Her voice is soft, but there’s a conviction behind her words that leaves no room for argument.

Alexis closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she lets herself lean into Tali again, pressing her faceplate against Tali's. “I don’t deserve you, you know that?” she says, her voice cracking. “But I’m so glad you’re here.”

“You deserve more than you know,” Tali whispers, her own voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Before Tali can respond further, Joker’s voice comes over the intercom, startling them both. “Commander, message coming through from Captain Anderson.”

Alexis pulls away from Tali, her eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before she stands. “Let’s hear it, Joker.”

“He said to meet him at Flux, that club down on the wards.”

Alexis nods, already moving across the room to grab her gear. “Tell him I’m on my way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Alexis quickly straps a harness and pistol to her thigh. As she turns back, she sees Tali standing near the door, her expression one of concern.

“Are you sure you don’t want your full armor?” Tali asks.

Alexis shakes her head. “I don’t think this kind of situation calls for it. At least, I hope it doesn’t. Fighting my way out of the Citadel isn’t exactly the plan.” She pats the pistol at her side, a small smirk playing on her lips. “This is just a precaution.”

Tali hesitates before asking, “Do you need any help?”

Alexis considers the offer for a moment, then shakes her head. “No. If Anderson’s doing what I think he’s doing, the fewer people seen moving around, the better. Besides,” she adds, her voice softening, “I need you here. Get the crew ready. Have everyone prep the Normandy for takeoff. I want to be gone as soon as possible.”

Tali nods, her eyes meeting Alexis’s. “Yes, Captain,” she says, giving a mock salute.

Alexis chuckles, returning the gesture. “Good. I’ll be back before you know it.” She turns and starts jogging through the Normandy’s halls, her heart pounding in her chest. She doesn’t know exactly what Anderson has planned, but whatever it is, she knows she’s ready for it—and she knows she won’t be facing it alone.

~~~~

Alexis walks through the doors of Flux, her senses immediately assaulted by the pounding bass and the flickering lights of the crowded club. The room pulses with energy—people twist and sway in the crush of bodies, while laughter and cheers echo from the bar. The air is thick with sweat and smoke, a haze that seems to swallow the pounding music and the blur of lights. It’s almost overwhelming, but she pushes through it, her focus razor-sharp. This isn't the time to get distracted. 

She scans the room rapidly, her eyes darting over faces in the crowd. Men and women try to catch her attention—some smiling, some curious—but she ignores them all. She’s not here for fun. Her gaze finally catches Anderson sitting at a far table, and she moves towards him, weaving through the chaos with calculated ease. She slips into the seat next to him, her suit clinking softly against the metal chair.

“Couldn’t have picked somewhere louder?” she shouts over the music, her voice barely audible even to herself. The pounding rhythm of the music vibrates through her bones, the sound of it echoing against her helmet.

Anderson leans closer, his face inches away as he speaks directly into her ear, his voice low but intense. “Less chance of being overheard. Hopefully no one knows what we’re doing until after it’s done.” He pauses, his expression growing more solemn, his eyes darkening with resolve. “Listen, Shepard. You have to go to Ilos—that much is clear. The Council, Udina—they all think Saren isn’t a threat anymore, but we know that’s bullshit. If Saren gets the Conduit, we’re all done for.”

Alexis's eyes narrow, and she shifts her posture, leaning closer, her hands clenched tightly on the table. “And I assume you’ve got a plan to get the Normandy out of lockdown?”

Anderson nods, his voice carrying a weight that tells her he’s already thought through every possible consequence. “I called you as soon as I figured it out. Citadel Control has locked everything down—every system that makes the Normandy flightworthy is locked out. But even they can’t override the Ambassador’s authority. Only Udina can do that.”

Alexis’s expression darkens, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and disgust. She turns sharply in her seat, her voice a low growl. “I’m not going to grovel to that son of a bitch.” Her fist slams down on the table, the sound muffled by the pounding bass, but enough to draw a few curious glances. She meets the gaze of the onlookers, her glare daring them to react. They quickly look away, and she turns back to Anderson. “Besides, even if I wanted to, his security wouldn’t let me get anywhere near him.”

Anderson shakes his head, leaning even closer, his voice barely a whisper in her ear. “I don’t need you to deal with Udina. That’s my job. I’ll get into his office, override his orders, and lift the lockdown myself. You’ll be in the Terminus Systems before anyone even knows you’re gone.”

Alexis stares at him, her eyes searching his face. She knows what he’s saying—she knows exactly what it means for him. Her throat tightens as she thinks about the consequences. At minimum, Anderson would lose everything—his career, his rank. At worst, he could be executed for treason. Her heart pounds at the thought, a mix of fear and helplessness clawing at her insides. She can’t let him do this. Not for her. Not for the Normandy.

“And where does that leave you?” she asks, her voice cracking slightly despite her attempts to keep it steady. “You lift the lockdown, and you’re the one left here to face the fallout. We steal the Normandy, and they blame you.”

Anderson’s eyes are hard, his expression resolute. “And if we don’t, Saren finds the Conduit, and the Reapers destroy us all. This is our only shot, Alexis. You’re the only one who can stop Saren. My life… my life isn’t worth the entire galaxy’s.” He pauses, watching her carefully. He expects her to argue, to fight him on this, but to his surprise, she doesn’t. She just looks at him, her eyes filled with a mix of grief and understanding.

She takes a deep breath, the tension in her chest loosening, replaced by a cold, hard determination. She knows he’s right. She hates it, but he’s right. “Alright,” she says, her voice barely audible. “What do I need to do?”

Anderson nods, relieved. “You’ll only have a few minutes to get the Normandy out of here once I lift the lockdown. You need to be ready, and you need to be fast. We can’t afford to waste any time.”

Alexis nods, her mind already shifting gears, thinking through everything that needs to be done. “The crew’s getting everything ready. We’ll be gone before anyone knows what happened.”

“Good,” Anderson says, his voice filled with pride. He stands up, giving her one last, long look. “Take care of yourself out there, Shepard. And take care of them. They’re a good crew.”

Alexis stands as well, almost saluting him, but catches herself at the last second. They need to be discreet, to blend in. Instead, she just nods, her eyes meeting his, the weight of everything they’re about to do hanging heavy between them. “Good luck, Anderson.”

He smiles, a small, sad smile. “Good luck, Shepard. Go kill that Turian bastard for me.”

She chuckles, her lips curving into a grim smile. “Will do, sir.” She turns and walks away, her heart pounding, her mind focused on what comes next. There’s no room for fear, no room for doubt. Not anymore.

Anderson waits, watching her until she disappears into the crowd. He takes a deep breath, rolling his neck, preparing himself for what comes next. He knows the risks—he knows exactly what he’s walking into. But he also knows it’s worth it. For Shepard, for the Normandy, for the galaxy. He starts towards the exit, his eyes hard, his jaw set. He almost hopes Udina is in his office when he gets there. He can’t wait to see the look on that smug bastard’s face—right before he wipes it off with his fist.

The Normandy’s CIC is shrouded in a thick blanket of silence. The crew is at their stations, but there’s no usual banter, no idle conversation. Everyone’s focused on the same thing—waiting for the signal from Captain Anderson. The Normandy is prepped and ready to launch, but until Anderson comes through, they’re stuck. Every second that passes without word feels like a nail being driven into the fragile plan they've concocted. It’s a silence that vibrates with tension, and the air feels almost too thick to breathe. They all know how precarious their situation is, how everything hinges on a single moment of luck.

Alexis stands near Joker’s station, her eyes glued to the main display screen. Her fingers tap a restless rhythm against her thigh, her whole body practically vibrating with barely contained energy. She’s trying to appear calm, trying to exude the confidence that her crew needs from her, but inside, her thoughts are racing. There’s too much that could go wrong, too many variables out of their control. Anderson could get caught, or the Council could decide to pull a last-minute inspection, or Udina might get wind of their plan. There’s a thousand different ways this could fall apart, and each possibility plays out in her mind with vivid clarity, gnawing at her resolve.

The seconds stretch on, turning into minutes that feel like hours. Alexis can see the tension in the shoulders of every crew member, their gazes flicking between their consoles and the clock that ticks ever onward. The waiting is maddening—each heartbeat that passes without a signal tightens the vice around her chest. She swallows hard, her throat dry, her eyes burning from the strain of staring at the same display, waiting for any change, any sign that Anderson has done his part.

“Commander, are we really doing this?” Joker’s voice cuts through the silence, a nervous edge to it. He’s staring at the console in front of him, but Alexis can tell by the stiffness in his posture that he’s on edge—they all are. The silence has pushed them to the edge, and it feels like they’re all balancing on a knife’s edge, just waiting to tip over.

“We don’t have a choice, Joker,” she says, her voice steady, even though she can feel her pulse hammering in her temples. “We’ve got to trust Anderson. He’ll get us out of this.” She wishes she could believe her own words as much as she wants her crew to. Anderson’s risking everything for them, and if something goes wrong, if the signal never comes—No. She can't let herself think like that. They have to trust Anderson. They have to believe in this plan. It's the only way forward.

Tali is next to Alexis, her fingers moving over her omni-tool with a precision that belies the tension in her posture. She glances over at Alexis, her gaze hidden behind her visor but her concern palpable. “Keelah, this waiting is worse than any battle,” she mutters, her voice low enough that only Alexis, standing closest to her, can hear. “I keep expecting alarms to go off or C-Sec to come storming in any minute.”

Alexis nods, her jaw clenched tight. She knows exactly what Tali means. The Normandy is a ticking bomb, primed and ready to explode. It’s only a matter of time before someone notices something is off. Every tick of the clock feels like a countdown to disaster, the silence of the CIC amplifying every little sound—the soft beeps of the consoles, the creak of a chair, the rustle of fabric as someone shifts in their seat. Every noise feels like it could be the start of something catastrophic.

“Commander, all systems are ready for immediate launch,” Pressly calls out from his station, his voice strained. The readiness in his tone is unmistakable—they’re ready to go, they just need the order. Alexis nods in acknowledgement, her eyes flicking back to the main screen.

“Stand by, Pressly,” she says. Her voice is calm, but her hands are clenched into fists at her sides. She hates this—the waiting, the feeling of helplessness. She’s a soldier. She’s used to action, to making decisions in the heat of the moment. But right now, all she can do is wait. The pressure is almost unbearable, her skin prickling with the need to do something, anything, to break the tension that’s settled over the CIC like a heavy fog.

The tension in the CIC is palpable. The crew sits at their stations, fingers hovering over controls, eyes darting towards displays, waiting for a signal that feels like it might never come. The seconds stretch into eternity, the silence pressing down on them, suffocating. Alexis can feel the weight of every gaze that shifts towards her, the unspoken questions, the fear. They’re all looking to her to lead them, to guide them through whatever comes next, and the pressure is almost unbearable. She can feel their trust in her, their hope that she’ll make the right call, and it feels like a physical weight pressing down on her shoulders.

“Anything from Anderson yet?” Garrus’s voice comes through the comms, the tension evident even in his usually composed tone. Alexis taps her own comm, her voice clipped as she replies, “Not yet. Hold your position. We’re still waiting.”

“Understood,” Garrus responds, though the frustration is clear. They’re all feeling it. Waiting is its own kind of torture—knowing that any second could bring either the order to move or the disaster they’re all dreading. Alexis can almost picture Garrus, his mandibles twitching with impatience, his eyes narrowed as he stares at his display, waiting for the signal that will set them all free.

Suddenly, a chime sounds from Joker’s console, cutting through the silence like a knife. Joker straightens, his eyes widening as he reads the incoming message. “Commander, it’s Anderson. He’s done it. The lockdown’s lifted.”

For a heartbeat, there’s stunned silence, the realization sinking in. Then Alexis snaps into action. “Pressly, prepare for immediate departure. Joker, get us out of here. Now.”

“You got it, Commander,” Joker says, his hands flying over the controls, the Normandy springing to life beneath them. The hum of the engines fills the ship, a vibration that Shepard feels in her bones. The sudden movement jolts the crew into action, their fingers flying over controls, the CIC coming alive with activity as they prepare to leave the Citadel behind.

“All hands, this is the Commander,” Alexis says, her voice echoing through the comms, her tone steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. “We are leaving the Citadel. Brace for potential pursuit. Stay sharp.” She can hear the tension in her own voice, the way it wavers slightly, and she hopes the crew doesn’t notice. They need her to be strong right now. They need her to lead them.

The Normandy surges forward, and Alexis feels a rush of relief mixed with the anxiety still coiled tight in her chest. They’re not safe yet. Not by a long shot. But they’re moving. They’re not sitting ducks anymore, waiting for someone to make the first move. Now it’s in their hands, and Alexis will be damned if she lets anything stop them.

Tali catches her eye, giving her a small nod, a spark of hope in her gaze. Alexis returns it, her lips twitching into a brief smile. It’s not over, not by far. But for now, they’re one step closer to stopping Saren, to stopping Sovereign. And that’s enough to keep her going.

The Normandy instantly begins to move, retreating from the docking bay and turning around on the spot. Joker sets the engines to their max power almost immediately, the hum turning into a roar as the ship accelerates. “Hold on tight everyone, this is going to be a bumpy ride.”

Alexis grabs onto a nearby handhold as the ship blasts away at breakneck speed. The force of their acceleration presses her back, the ship shuddering under the strain as it fights against the Citadel’s gravity. The hum of the engines is almost deafening, the vibration resonating in her bones as she struggles to keep her balance. She grits her teeth, her eyes fixed on the viewport, watching as the station recedes behind them.

They’re not out of the woods yet. The Citadel’s defence systems could activate at any moment, and if that happens, they’ll be facing the full force of the most advanced military installation in Council space. Her heart pounds, the tension in her chest almost unbearable. But then, finally, they’re free—breaking away from the Citadel’s influence, the stars outside the viewport settling as the ship steadies itself.

“How long to Ilos, Joker?” Alexis asks, her voice strained from the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The pilot rapidly calculates the flight time on his display, his fingers a blur over the console. “We’ve got to make a few jumps to get to the same system as the Mu Relay, and that thing’s nowhere particularly close to anything, so the Normandy’s engines will have to get us there by themselves. I’d say at least six hours.”

“Get us there as fast as you can. We need to either beat Saren there or arrive soon after.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joker replies, his voice filled with determination. The tension in his shoulders seems to ease slightly, the fear replaced by the focus that comes with having a goal, a mission. They have a purpose now, a direction. They’re not just waiting anymore.

Alexis takes a deep breath, her gaze shifting to the stars beyond the viewport. The fear, the uncertainty—it’s all still there, gnawing at the edges of her mind. But for now, they’re moving. And that’s enough. For now, that’s all she needs.

~~~~

Alexis gathers the entire crew in the mess hall of the Normandy, positioning herself near the sleeping pods of the crew. Joker has put the ship onto autopilot to their destination and is sitting up on the counter of the kitchen. Alexis considers yelling at him to get down, that everyone eats there, but relents, given what they are about to face. They all deserve to break the rules a little, considering they’ve just committed treason against both the Alliance and the Citadel.

“I said to myself I didn’t need to give a speech to rouse everyone into action.” Some of the crew chuckle, knowing full well that Alexis has every intention of giving a speech whether they want her to or not. “I’d planned to try to convince any doubters of the sanity of stealing the Normandy, but as it would appear, you’re all just as insane as I am.” She pauses, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Well… maybe not as much as me. That’s a hard bar to meet.” Alexis waits for the crew’s laughter to die down before she shifts her tone, her expression growing serious, her voice taking on a solemn edge. “I said at the start of this mission that we’d see it through to the end and stop Saren. Admittedly, that has grown into an even more monumental task with the threat of Sovereign. But I meant it. I wasn’t going to stop, no matter what it took. The fact that you were all willing to follow me into committing treason… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay any of you for that level of trust. I’m proud to be the Commander of the Normandy. I’m proud of every single one of you.”

She pauses for a moment, the mess hall filled with silence, every crew member hanging on her words. Then, her voice rises, filled with determination and fire, “Now, let’s go kill Saren, AND SAVE THE WHOLE GOD DAMN GALAXY!”

The crew erupts into cheers, their voices echoing throughout the mess hall, the sound a roar of unity and courage. Joker’s voice rises above the rest, a mischievous grin on his face, “LET’S HEAR IT FOR COMMANDER SHEPARD!”

“SHEPARD! SHEPARD! SHEPARD!” The crew chants her name, the volume almost deafening, but it doesn’t stop the huge smile spreading across Alexis’s face. For a moment, she allows herself to bask in their support, in the camaraderie that fills the ship. She knows they need this moment, a reminder of what they’re fighting for, of who they are fighting alongside.

Alexis holds up her hands for quiet, taking a full minute before everyone actually obeys, the noise finally dying down. “Now, if Joker’s right, we’ll be at Ilos in about six hours. I need all of you to be ready when we get there. Everyone is to be at their stations by 0600. Get your sleep, eat, whatever you need. Dismissed.”

The crew begins to disperse, some walking past Alexis into their sleeping pods, others heading back to their stations. Alexis herself moves with purpose to Joker’s side as he slowly lowers himself down from the counter. “Again with the speeches, Shepard. Maybe you’ll finally get me into the field.”

“You’d put us all to shame, Joker, I’m sure.”

Joker can hear the exhaustion in Alexis’s voice, the weariness that she tries so hard to hide. The fact that she’s leaning heavily against the counter is just further proof of how worn out she really is. “You should probably listen to your own orders, Commander. Get some sleep.”

“At this point, I’m not even sure I could sleep.”

“Just get Wrex to punch you. Same effect.”

Alexis turns her head, narrowing her eyes at the pilot, though there’s a hint of amusement in her gaze. “Remind me to never take your advice, Joker.”

Joker snickers as he hobbles away, his grin widening. “The day you or I listen to the other’s advice is the day hell freezes over.”

Alexis calls out after him, her voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and fondness, “The difference is, I give good advice.” Joker’s laughter echoes in response as he makes his way up the stairs to the upper deck of the Normandy. Alexis shakes her head, a small smile playing at her lips as she turns, moving away from the counter and towards her quarters.

She rounds the corner, only to find Wrex waiting for her just outside the door. The Krogan looks up at the sound of her footsteps, standing tall from where he’d been leaning against the wall. He takes slow, deliberate steps towards her, stopping only when he’s less than a foot away. “I’m coming with you to Ilos.” It isn’t a request—it’s a statement of fact, almost a command. The determination in his voice leaves no room for argument.

Alexis raises an eyebrow, her tone light but with a hint of an edge, “I didn’t realise you set the ground team, Wrex.” She means it as a gentle jab, but she instantly sees the way Wrex narrows his eyes, the way his jaw tightens. He’s not in the mood for jokes, not right now. She quickly softens her expression, her voice losing its teasing quality. “You’re on the ground team, Wrex. I couldn’t do it without you. Plus, I did promise you Saren’s head.”

Wrex grunts, the sound deep and resonant, his version of an affirmation. “Yes. That you did.” He takes a step around her, his massive frame moving with surprising care, making sure not to bump her. “Hope you’re ready to kill him this time, Shepard.”

The words are meant as a joke, but they hit Alexis harder than she expects. She’d been weak on Virmire. She should’ve had Saren—should’ve finished it then and there. She thinks back to the fight, replaying every move, every split-second decision. She hadn’t been able to finish the job. She realises now, with a sinking feeling, that she hadn’t truly been trying to kill him. Somewhere, deep down, she’d hesitated, whether it had been a conscious decision or not.

Doubt creeps in, a sliver of fear worming its way into her thoughts. They need to catch up to Saren, that much is true. But once they do—what then? How many Geth will he have at his command? How many obstacles will they have to overcome just to get close to him? And if they manage to get there—if they manage to stand face-to-face with Saren again—will she have the strength to finish it this time? Or will she falter, hesitate, and lose everything?

She pushes the thoughts away, trying to bury them deep, but they linger, a heavy weight on her shoulders. She knows they’ll reach Ilos after Saren. He’s got a head start, and Sovereign is faster than the Normandy. The Reaper is a massive, terrifying presence, and it won’t be easy to get anywhere near Ilos without being detected. But they have to try. They have to find a way to stop him, to stop Sovereign, before it’s too late.

The stakes have never been higher, and the margin for error has never been smaller. Alexis clenches her fists, her jaw tightening as she steels herself. They can’t afford to fail—not now. Not when they’re this close. She takes a deep breath, her gaze meeting Wrex’s. “Don’t worry, Wrex. I’m ready this time. No hesitation.”

Wrex studies her for a moment, his gaze searching her face. Finally, he nods, a hint of respect in his eyes. “Good. Because I want his head, Shepard. And I’m counting on you to get it for me.”

She gives him a small, determined smile. “You’ll have it, Wrex. I promise.”

He grunts again, turning and walking away, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway. Alexis watches him go, her expression hardening as she turns towards her quarters. She has six hours to rest, to prepare herself for what’s to come. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to sleep, but she knows she has to try. Because when they reach Ilos, there will be no room for doubt, no room for hesitation. It will be do or die. And Alexis'Shepard is not ready to die just yet.

Alexis had no idea how long she had been standing at the door to her quarters until a cough reached her ears from a few steps away. The Commander turned to find Garrus waiting for her, the Turian holding out a sealed vial of coffee. Alexis was confused by the gesture but accepted it nonetheless, her brow furrowing slightly. 

"What's this for?"

"I don't think either of us are going to be sleeping," Garrus says, his mandibles twitching in a semblance of a smile. "Can't have you falling asleep on Ilos." He gestures to the vial. "Made sure to grab one of yours and Tali's—already filtered."

Alexis attaches the coffee to her suit via the pre-filtered port at the bottom of her mask, taking a sip. The warmth is comforting, even if it doesn't do much to ease her nerves. "Thanks, Garrus. I was going to try to sleep, but you're probably right." She starts walking back towards the kitchen, motioning for him to follow. "But let's not stand around here."

Garrus follows her, leaning against the counter across from her. His casual stance doesn’t hide the tension etched into his features. He can feel the weight of what’s coming, and he knows Alexis feels it too. 

"Saren’s going to throw everything he has at us on Ilos," he says, breaking the silence.

"That he is." Alexis nods, her eyes distant as she stares down at the counter. "I just hope we don't have to tangle with Sovereign itself. Joker's a good pilot, but I doubt even he can avoid that thing's weapons forever." She pauses, her mind working, tapping her finger against the counter in thought. "Although, maybe we can use that to our advantage."

Garrus cocks his head, clearly skeptical. "How in the hell is getting Sovereign to attack the Normandy an advantage?"

"It's not, per se," Alexis admits, her gaze lifting to meet his. "But... with what we know about indoctrination, maybe we can keep Sovereign busy and try to reach Saren himself." She notices the way Garrus tenses, his mandibles twitching. He's clearly not sold on this plan. "If Sovereign's preoccupied taking down the Normandy, maybe it won't be able to control Saren as much as it needs to. If we can get through to him, even for a minute, we might be able to talk him down from helping the Reapers. Or at the very least, create an opening to take him down in the confusion."

"That's assuming Sovereign is directly controlling Saren," Garrus counters, his scepticism evident.

"It's just an idea," Alexis concedes, her shoulders sagging slightly. "But if everything else fails, it's one option we have to consider."

Garrus stands up straight, a half-sigh escaping him as he moves toward the elevator. "You were right, Shepard. We’re not as insane as you."

Alexis laughs a short, humourless sound. "Not even close."

Garrus gives her a final nod before disappearing down the hallway. As his footsteps fade, a new voice reaches her ears, light and teasing. 

"Speaking of insanity..."

Alexis jumps at the sudden voice, almost spilling her drink if it wasn't in a sealed vial. She spins around, her heart skipping a beat. "Keelah!" Her hand goes to her chest, feeling her now racing heart as a flash of warning blinks on her HUD. "I thought you were a medical professional! Doesn't giving your patients heart attacks go against your oath or something?!"

Doctor Chakwas smiles warmly at the Commander. "If that's the only way to get your attention, I intend to give you a heart attack every time I need you in the medbay, Commander." She raises a hand, pointing first at Alexis, then gesturing towards the Normandy's medbay. "And right now, I need you in there."

Alexis finishes the last of her coffee, setting the empty vial down on the counter with a sigh. "Is it really necessary?" She wasn’t actually arguing, her feet already moving towards the medbay on their own accord.

Once they step inside, the door locks and the privacy settings activate, Chakwas answers her, her tone softening slightly. "You've been shot twice and had several fractures in the last few weeks, Commander. Standard Alliance procedure is to have a full medical check-up before more active service, especially given your position and the fire you're about to likely walk through."

Alexis grins at the Doctor. "We did just technically commit treason, Doctor Chakwas. Not sure Alliance protocols apply, considering we'll all definitely be dishonourably discharged when we get back, along with whatever other punishments the Alliance deems fit."

Chakwas folds her arms across her chest, narrowing her eyes at Alexis. "And if you want to get to that point, I'd suggest you let me look you over, or the next thing you'll be doing is explaining to the crew why you can’t go to Ilos with them. And the answer will be that you've been deemed medically unfit for service, and you'll be strapped to a bed in this very room, drugged into a coma."

Alexis’ grin fades instantly, her eyes widening as she stares at Chakwas, unsure if she’s kidding or not. Judging by the steely glint in the Doctor's eyes, she decides she probably isn’t. "Yes, ma’am."

Chakwas smiles and unfolds her arms, moving over to her examining bed. "That's what I thought. Remember, Shepard, I'm the commanding officer in this room. Even you have to do what I say." Alexis nods, her smile returning ever so slightly. "Now, can I access your medical readout?"

She nods, tapping on her omni-tool to allow Chakwas access to her suit’s medical data. The Doctor begins her examination, starting with the bullet wound on Alexis' thigh, which has nearly healed over. She scans it with her omni-tool, double-checking the readings.

"Healed up nicely. But I don't need you reinjuring it," Chakwas says, her voice stern. She moves her hands to Alexis’ ribs, pressing down gently on each of the spots that had been fractured. "Tell me if you feel any pain."

Alexis tenses slightly but remains silent, trying to ignore the twinge of discomfort that flares under the Doctor's probing fingers. Chakwas' eyes narrow. "Commander, this only works if you actually tell me. Pain isn’t something you need to ignore here."

Alexis almost protests but quickly realizes there’s no point. "Alright, fine. They still hurt." She looks away, a hint of embarrassment colouring her voice.

Chakwas sighs, shaking her head. "Not much I can do for those, unfortunately. Just try to avoid getting hit in the chest again." She steps back, satisfied for the moment. "Right, that’s me done."

Alexis taps her omni-tool to close off access to her suit’s medical readout. She waits until Chakwas turns around before speaking. "Am I cleared for duty, ma'am?"

"You are, Commander," Chakwas confirms. Alexis starts to leave, but Chakwas' voice stops her. "However..." The Commander turns back around, already one foot out the door. "I’d like to talk to you before you go. Not as a Doctor, but as a friend."

Alexis blinks, surprised by the request, but nods, coming back to sit in the chair opposite the Doctor. "Of course."

"The past several hours have been quite hectic," Chakwas begins, her gaze softening. "I wanted to make sure you're doing alright. I know Kaidan was a friend."

Alexis half-smiles, the expression tinged with sadness. "I'm fine, Doctor. I spoke with my mother... she helped a lot."

Chakwas nods knowingly. "Mari seems good at that. She always has excellent advice, especially when dealing with stubborn patients." Her eyes glint as she raises an eyebrow at Alexis.

"That she does." Alexis leans back in her chair, ignoring the pointed nature of Chakwas' comment, letting her mirth fade away. "I'll... we'll hold a funeral for Kaidan when this is all over. I owe him that much."

"I think he'd like that," Chakwas says, studying Alexis closely. She can still see the grief lingering beneath her composed exterior. "He was always proud of you, you know." Alexis looks up, her eyes meeting Chakwas'. "He once described you as the best commanding officer he'd ever served under, and that's saying something, given the list. Even Captain Anderson. Though he did also say you were the most stubborn person he'd ever met, always arguing every single little thing."

Alexis lets out a soft chuckle. "Stubbornness runs in my family, it seems."

Chakwas laughs. "Mari does seem like the stubborn type." She leans forward, her expression turning more serious. "Now, for a far more pressing topic."

Alexis swallows, suddenly wary of the shift in Chakwas' tone. "And, uh... what would that be?" she asks, her voice laced with unease. The conspiratorial smirk spreading across Chakwas' lips raises her concern even more. Whatever this is about, Alexis has a feeling she isn't going to like it.

"Have you thought any more about a certain crew member?" Chakwas asks, her tone light but her eyes probing.

Alexis' eyes widen, her mouth falling open slightly as her face flushes red. She tries to get words out, but they come in a stammering mess. "I—uh—I told you last time, maybe after the mission is done."

"It would seem it's almost finished," Chakwas points out, her smirk growing.

Alexis looks down, her mind racing, her heart pounding in her chest. "Close to it," she murmurs.

"And?" Chakwas presses, her eyes twinkling with encouragement.

Alexis thinks back to the last time the Doctor had asked her this question. Would she say anything to Tali? The thought alone makes her stomach twist with a mix of excitement and fear. It would definitely be after the mission—that much she knows. But how soon after? She sighs, the corners of her lips twitching upwards despite herself. "I've thought about it," she admits. "I think... I’ll say something to her. Against my better judgment."

Chakwas' smile softens, warmth radiating from her. "As I said before, you’ll kick yourself if you don’t."

Alexis hesitates, her voice dropping to a whisper, almost as if she's scared to even say the words aloud. "What if... what if she doesn’t reciprocate?"

Chakwas tilts her head, giving Alexis a knowing look. "I know Quarians are physically affectionate with friends, but she fell asleep cuddled next to you and then offered to work on your undersuits together," the Doctor points out with a raised eyebrow. "Trust me. Tali won’t reject you. All you have to do is say something."

Alexis flushes even deeper, her embarrassment evident. She knows that in the culture she has adopted as her own, allowing someone access to one's undersuit is an incredibly intimate gesture—something reserved for close family or partners. For Tali to offer, it’s as good as declaring her interest.

"I wish I shared your confidence," Alexis mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. She sighs, rising from her seat. "Thanks, Doctor."

Chakwas smiles, nodding. "Anytime, Shepard."

Alexis nods, leaving the medbay and marching straight for her quarters. She needs to clear her head, and being around other people isn’t going to help. Her mind needs to be sharp, honed to a singular focus—on the mission and not on a certain crew member whose face keeps slipping into her thoughts when she least expects it. 

She pulls up all the information they have on Ilos, but it’s scarce. The vision from the beacon signifies its importance—the location of the Conduit—but little about the planet’s actual terrain or what to expect. It’s frustrating. She can’t even formulate a complete strategy against Saren’s forces. All she has is a vague sense of what’s coming.

What little Liara could tell her is that Ilos used to be a jewel of the Prothean empire, but Shepard highly doubts it retains much of its former glory. Every building is likely a crumbling ruin, everything the Protheans left behind eroded by time. It’s possible that nothing works anymore. The Conduit might even be dead, no longer functional. And if that’s true, this entire mission—all the sacrifices—would have been for nothing.

She tries not to think about that.

Instead, she moves on to figuring out her ground team. With Kaidan gone, her options are fewer. Ashley is still recovering from her injuries sustained on Virmire—worse than they initially seemed. She’s already reviewed Chakwas’ report on Ashley’s condition and decided that Ashley would need to stay on board, taking over Kaidan’s duties as Marine Commander. She can’t risk Ashley in the field with injuries that might jeopardise the entire mission.

Wrex will come with her, no question about it. She’d promised him a chance at Saren, and breaking that promise isn’t an option. Shepard doesn’t need Wrex angry at her, not now.

Tali is another obvious choice. They’ll face Geth, and Tali knows how to deal with them better than anyone. More than that, though, Alexis can’t deny how much more confident she feels with Tali by her side. There’s a comfort there, a familiarity she needs. She shakes her head, trying to push that thought away. This isn’t the time to think about her connection with Tali—especially after her conversation with Chakwas. She needs to be practical.

That leaves Garrus and Liara. Liara’s knowledge of the Protheans could prove invaluable, but she’s inexperienced in combat. Garrus, on the other hand, is an expert marksman and tactician, someone she can trust to watch her back. Liara’s biotics might be impressive, but this mission demands perfection. And right now, that means Garrus.

Wrex, Tali, Garrus. It’s the team she keeps coming back to—the team she trusts, the team that works. She sends them a message to be ready. They’ll barely have time to catch their breath, but there’s no other choice. They’ve just left Virmire, and they’re already hurtling toward another impossible fight. There’s no time to prepare, no time to grieve, only time to keep moving forward.

She turns to her desk, pulling up the interface between her suit and the console. The glow of her omni-tool casts a dim light as she begins her work, adjusting settings, making sure her armour is in top condition. Her fingers move quickly, the repetition calming her, focusing her thoughts on something tangible, something she can control.

An hour slips by without her even realising it. She steps away from her armour, her gaze shifting to her console, an idea forming in her mind. She hesitates, then begins typing.

Getting her crew to commit treason was one thing—but letting them take the fall for it? That she can’t stomach. Alexis drafts a letter, one that takes full responsibility for the theft of the Normandy, absolving every other crew member, including Anderson. She’s prepared to face the consequences, ready to lose everything, if it means they won’t have to. Her military career is over anyway. Even if they succeed, the Alliance will have no place for her after this. But maybe, if she can protect her crew, that will be enough.

She’s on the verge of sending it when a sound stops her. Footsteps. Three-toed, light, and unmistakable. Her heart stutters in her chest. She doesn’t want to face Tali right now—not when she’s feeling like this, not when she’s just barely holding herself together. But running isn’t an option. Alexis takes a deep breath, pressing her helmet against the door, listening as Tali approaches.

Tali raises her hand to knock, but before her knuckles connect with the metal, the door whooshes open, causing her to stumble forward. “Keelah!”

Alexis catches her, her hands on Tali’s shoulders, steadying her. She grins down at the Quarian. “Got you.”

Tali’s cheeks flush beneath her helmet, her heart racing. “This is payback, isn’t it? For when I scared you at the door?”

“Yep.”

Tali straightens, trying to mask her embarrassment. “I’ll have to get you back for this. Just you wait.” She slips past Alexis into the room, and Alexis swears she sees Tali wink at her.

Alexis shakes her head, following. “Until one of us has a heart attack.” The door hisses shut behind them. She can’t bring herself to be annoyed at Tali’s intrusion—not when it’s her. Tali has a way of bypassing all the walls she puts up, slipping past her defences without even trying.

“Tried sleeping?” Tali sits on the edge of Alexis’s bed, and Alexis finds herself drawn to sit beside her. Their shoulders touch, and for a moment, Alexis lets herself relax into the contact.

“Not yet. Figured I wouldn’t even try. Don’t think I could.” She glances at Tali, her voice softening. “You?”

Tali shakes her head. “Tried. Failed. Sleeping pods aren’t exactly comfortable, even on a good day.” She turns her gaze to Alexis, her curiosity clear. “I went to engineering, but there wasn’t much to do. I thought maybe you’d still be awake. What were you working on?”

Alexis hesitates. “Just… checking my suit. Writing a message.” She keeps her voice casual, hoping to avoid further questions, but Tali is watching her too closely.

“A message?” Tali’s eyes flick to the console, the text still open. “For who?”

Alexis quickly gets up, moving to close the screen. “It’s not important.”

“Alexis,” Tali says, her voice gentle but insistent. “What’s it about?”

Alexis sighs, her shoulders sagging. She can’t lie to Tali—not like this. “It’s to the Council. And to Alliance command. I was going to send it after we reach Ilos. It takes all the blame for what we did… for stealing the Normandy. It puts everything on me.”

Tali is silent for a moment, the weight of Alexis’s words sinking in. “You’re taking all of the blame?”

Alexis nods, her jaw tight. “Better me than anyone else. I’m the only one they’ll believe could have forced this. I can take the punishment.”

“Why?” Tali’s voice cracks, and she stands, closing the distance between them. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s my fault,” Alexis says, her voice breaking. “I let Saren get away. I had him, Tali! I could’ve killed him. But I didn’t, and now Kaidan’s dead, and Sovereign is still out there—because of me.” Her voice rises, raw and unsteady. “IT’S ALL MY FAULT!” She’s shaking, the words echoing around them before she half-collapses, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed.

Tali kneels in front of her, wrapping her arms around Alexis, holding her close. “And what if it is?” she says, her voice soft. “What if it is your fault? You can’t give up. Not now.”

“I’m not—” Alexis stops, her voice cracking. It feels like giving up, like she’s running from everything. She takes a shuddering breath. “You’re right… I’m not giving up. Not now.”

Tali’s helmet tilts upward, her eyes meeting Alexis’s, a small smile on her lips. “Taking the blame won’t help anyone. We all chose this. We knew the risks, and we chose to follow you. You’re not alone, Alexis. You never were.”

“Treason is a ‘little bit of danger’?” Alexis raises an eyebrow, a weak smile tugging at her lips. “I’d hate to see what you consider a lot of danger then.”

Tali laughs, a sound that fills the room, lifting some of the weight from Alexis’s chest. “That’s what the mission is for,” Tali teases, nudging her gently. “Well, that and your tactics.”

Alexis’s mouth falls open in mock indignation, the heaviness easing just a little. “How dare you! I’m a perfect tactician.”

Tali chuckles, squeezing Alexis’s hand gently. “Keelah, Alexis… you’re one hell of a Commander. And we’re all with you. To the end.”

Tali continues to laugh before standing, extending her hand to pull Alexis up with her. “Come on, we both need to try and get some rest,” she says softly, her thumb brushing against Alexis's knuckles as she holds her hand. “Besides, Chakwas told me your cabin can sterilise itself, as long as we’re behind a sealed door.”

Alexis nods, letting herself be led. There’s something almost magnetic about the warmth of Tali’s grip, the way her hand seems to fit perfectly with hers. The thought of rest hadn’t sounded so tempting before, but now, with Tali by her side, it’s all Alexis wants. She follows Tali into the bathroom, the door sealing behind them with a soft hiss. The moment the sterilisation protocol activates, Alexis starts to remove her helmet, her hands moving more slowly than usual. She watches Tali do the same, and when Tali’s face becomes visible—truly visible—it takes Alexis’s breath away. The face she normally only sees through a visor now feels more real and vivid, like she’s seeing it for the first time all over again.

Alexis’s gaze lingers a moment too long, captivated by Tali’s bright eyes, her soft lips, the curves of her face. She feels her chest tighten, warmth blooming there, a mix of awe and emotions she’s still hesitating to fully name. Flustered, she quickly looks away, placing her helmet on a nearby shelf. Tali does the same, placing hers beside Alexis's. The sight of their helmets—the distinct designs of each, now resting side by side—fills Alexis with a sense of comfort she hadn’t expected. It’s as though they belong together, and the thought brings a gentle warmth to her chest.

They begin to unseal their suits, the quiet, familiar hiss of releasing seals filling the air. The sound feels oddly intimate, an unspoken sign of trust between them. Piece by piece, they remove their suits until they stand in nothing but their underwear, facing one another. For a moment, the air between them is charged, filled with a quiet admiration. Alexis can’t help but let her gaze travel over Tali, taking in her lithe form, the way her shoulders rise and fall with each breath. Tali's violet eyes meet hers, filled with a blend of vulnerability and determination, and Alexis feels her heart skip a beat.

The door chimes as it slides open, signalling that the sterilisation is complete. The sudden sound startles them, pulling them from their shared gaze. Alexis flushes, a pink blush rising to her cheeks as she clears her throat. She steps towards the bed, pulling back the covers, her heart still pounding in her chest. She sits on the edge of the bed, her fingers gripping the fabric, feeling the weight of what’s about to happen.

Tali hesitates. She stands there, her heart pounding, her gaze locked on Alexis. This moment feels heavier, more significant than anything they’ve shared before. It’s one thing to fall asleep beside each other in a medbay, with exhaustion overriding everything else, but this—this is different. It’s a choice, a conscious decision to take a step closer. Tali’s heart beats faster, her nerves alight with fear and hope. She’s not willing to let how she feels go unsaid, not with the mission looming in front of them like a shadow.

Taking a deep breath, Tali makes her decision. She climbs into the bed, her movements careful, deliberate. She crawls closer, nestling herself into Alexis’s side, feeling Alexis’s arm wrap around her, settling at the small of her back. The warmth of Alexis’s skin against her own sends a shiver down her spine, and she leans into it, pressing herself closer. She looks up, her eyes meeting Alexis's, and for a moment, they simply look at each other. There’s a shared understanding there, something neither of them can quite put into words.

Tali lifts her hand, her fingers brushing against Alexis’s cheek. She traces the lines of her jaw, her touch light, hesitant. “I... I want to say this,” Tali whispers, her voice almost trembling. “I have for a while now. I care about you, Alexis. A lot. More than I ever thought I could care for anyone.” She pauses, her gaze searching Alexis’s. “I know the mission comes first, and we can figure things out properly after, but… I don’t want to go into this without saying something. Without you knowing.” Tali’s voice drops to a murmur, her nerves getting the better of her. “Keelah, this was easier in my head…”

Alexis's breath catches in her throat as she watches Tali struggle to find the right words. There’s a vulnerability there, a raw honesty that makes Alexis’s heart swell. Before Tali can second-guess herself, she abandons whatever she’d planned to say, leaning forward, her lips capturing Alexis’s in a gentle but determined kiss.

For a heartbeat, Alexis is stunned, her eyes widening in surprise. Then, the world around her seems to fall away, and she closes her eyes, her free arm wrapping around Tali to pull her closer, her body melting into the kiss. She can feel the urgency in Tali’s touch, the need to make this moment count, and she answers it with a tenderness that surprises her. The kiss is gentle, almost hesitant, but it deepens as they both give in, leaning into each other until they part, breathless, their foreheads resting against one another.

“I care about you,” Alexis whispers, her voice shaky, her eyes closed as she presses her forehead to Tali’s. “In the same way. If that wasn’t clear.” She chuckles softly, the sound almost breaking with emotion. “And yeah, once the mission is done, we can figure this out. But for now…” Alexis trails off, her gaze locking onto Tali’s, her eyes filled with warmth, with certainty. She leans in again, capturing Tali’s lips in another kiss, this one filled with all the emotions she’s kept bottled up until now.

Tali smiles against her lips, her fingers curling into Alexis’s hair, holding her close as if afraid to let go. The kiss is slower, less urgent, a promise of what’s to come, of the things they’ll fight for once the mission is over. They pull apart, and Tali lets out a soft sigh, nestling herself back into Alexis’s side, her head resting on her chest.

Alexis tightens her hold around Tali, her fingers tracing gentle circles on her back. There’s still a lot ahead of them—danger, uncertainty, the threat of Saren and the Reapers—but here, in this moment, there’s peace. Tali’s warmth, her steady breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest—it’s enough to make the fear seem distant, if only for a little while.

“We’ll get through this,” Tali whispers, her voice muffled against Alexis’s skin. “Together.”

Alexis closes her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Together,” she echoes, her heart swelling with emotion. And for the first time in what feels like forever, she lets herself relax, holding Tali close, feeling her warmth, her presence. Together. They’ll face whatever comes next, side by side.

Tali nuzzles closer, a soft purr reveberating in her chest, her fingers absentmindedly brushing against Alexis’s collarbone. “You know,” she starts, her voice quiet, “I’ve always admired you. From the first time I saw you. You carried so much weight on your shoulders, but you never let it break you. I always wondered how you did it.”

Alexis sighs softly, her eyes opening just a sliver to look at Tali. “I don’t think I’ve ever really known how I do it,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “Most days, it’s just… one foot in front of the other. Trying to focus on what’s next, not letting myself think too far ahead.” She pauses, her gaze softening. “But lately, it’s been different. Knowing you’re here—it makes everything a little bit easier. A little less daunting.”

Tali’s lips curve into a smile, and she shifts slightly, her fingers tracing a gentle path along Alexis’s arm. “I want to be here,” she says. “No matter what happens. I want to be by your side, through all of it.” She hesitates for a moment, her gaze dropping before she looks back up at Alexis, her eyes filled with determination. “I’ve lost people before. Friends, family. But this… being here with you, it feels different. It feels like there’s something worth holding onto, something worth fighting for.”

Alexis’s throat tightens, and she nods, her fingers brushing through Tali’s hair. “You’re worth fighting for, Tali. More than anything.” Her voice is thick with emotion, and she blinks rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “And I promise you, whatever happens, I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe. To keep us both safe.”

Tali closes her eyes, leaning into Alexis’s touch, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions—fear, hope, love. “We’ll protect each other,” she whispers. “And when all of this is over, we’ll find our way. Together.”

Alexis smiles, her lips brushing against Tali’s forehead in a tender kiss. “Together,” she repeats, her voice barely audible. The word feels like a promise, a vow that she’ll carry with her into the battles ahead.

The two of them lie there in silence for a while, the soft hum of the Normandy in the background, the gentle rhythm of their breathing the only other sound. Alexis feels her eyes grow heavy, the weight of exhaustion finally settling in, but for the first time in a long time, she doesn’t fight it. She lets herself drift, her arms wrapped around Tali, holding her close. They both drift off, wrapped in each other’s arms, legs tangled together, ready to face whatever comes next—together.

 

Chapter 13: XIII

Summary:

Landing on Ilos! Race to the conduit!

Notes:

Here we go! So excited for the end of ME1 as much as I am dreading the start of ME2 xD

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XIII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Alexis slowly opens her eyes, the ceiling of her cabin coming into focus as she feels a weight on her chest. She looks down only to be met by the sight of Tali's soft black hair, her head resting on Alexis's chest like a pillow. Alexis takes a deep breath, her gaze softening at the sight. For a moment, she lets herself forget about Ilos, about Saren, about everything that waits for them. Right now, it’s just them, tangled together, the quiet rise and fall of Tali’s breathing a comfort she didn't realise she needed.

She shifts slightly, feeling Tali’s arms tighten around her, her body instinctively trying to stay close even in sleep. Alexis smiles, her fingers brushing against Tali’s shoulder. There’s no real way to get out of bed without waking her, and honestly, Alexis doesn’t want to. She glances at the clock and sees they have approximately an hour before they reach Ilos. Plenty of time to prepare for the inevitable fight that lies ahead—but for now, she chooses to stay here, with Tali, just a little while longer.

“Time to wake up, Tali,” Alexis murmurs, her voice gentle as she presses a kiss to the top of Tali’s head, her fingers brushing through her hair. She gives her a soft shake, trying to rouse her without startling her.

Tali stirs slowly, a sleepy sound escaping her lips as she nuzzles deeper into Alexis's chest before her eyes flutter open. She looks up at Alexis with a soft smile, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “Mmm… already?” she mumbles, her voice laced with grogginess. But there’s no mistaking the way her lips curl upwards, her gaze filled with warmth as she takes in Alexis’s face. She leans up, capturing Alexis’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss before she starts to untangle herself, her fingers giving Alexis’s a gentle squeeze. “Time to get ready?” she asks, her voice a bit more awake now.

Alexis nods, sitting up as she stretches her arms over her head, then climbs out of bed. Tali follows, and they move together to the bathroom, where they hang up their undersuits from last night. “Yeah. Got around an hour still, but I’d rather not be rushing at the last minute.” She casts a glance at Tali, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Besides, Chakwas would have both our heads if we showed up unprepared.”

Tali chuckles softly, nodding in agreement. “She would. And I don’t think either of us could deal with that kind of lecture right now.”

They begin pulling on their fresh undersuits, the motions slow, almost methodical, as if trying to savour these last quiet moments together before the chaos of Ilos. Every so often, their arms brush against each other, or one of them leans into the other’s side for balance. Each small touch feels deliberate, comforting. There’s something grounding about it—a reminder that they’re not alone in what’s to come.

Once the suits are fully sealed and systems activated, Alexis holds her helmet in her hands, fidgeting slightly as her gaze shifts between it and Tali. She bites her lip, trying to find the right words, her mind racing with what she wants to ask—how to ask without sounding too forward or uncertain.

“Tali… I…” She takes a breath, her eyes meeting Tali’s. “Would you want to link suit systems?” She pauses, her voice softening, vulnerability clear in her tone. “To keep an eye on each other. I know it’s rare, but… I don’t want anything to happen to either of us that the other could have prevented.”

Tali’s eyes widen slightly, a soft gasp escaping her. Her heart swells, the weight of what Alexis is asking not lost on her. She can hear the concern in Alexis’s voice, the quiet plea behind the words. Relief floods her chest, and she can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. “I would love to,” she says, her voice almost trembling as she raises her left arm, her omni-tool glowing softly as she brings up the interface.

They take each other’s left arm, their hands moving in a Quarian handshake. The glow of their omni-tools fills the space between them as their systems connect, a soft chime signalling the successful link. For a moment, neither of them lets go, the shared connection feeling far deeper than just their suit systems. They’re intertwined now, truly linked in a way that few others would understand.

When the handshake is complete, they pull back slightly, putting their helmets on. Alexis feels her heart pounding, her eyes meeting Tali’s as she moves her faceplate closer to Tali’s, pressing the two together gently. It’s a gesture that’s intimate, tender. The new widget on her HUD that shows Tali’s suit status feels like an extension of her own—another way to keep Tali close, even in the heat of battle.

They linger there, faceplates touching, savouring the closeness. Slowly, they pull away, their hands brushing one last time before stepping into the main area of Alexis’s quarters, fully suited.

Tali turns to leave, pausing for a moment, her gaze shifting between Alexis and the armour still on its rack. She hesitates, her fingers curling slightly, uncertainty clear in her stance.

Alexis smiles behind her helmet, her voice soft. “Would you be willing to help me get the armour attached?” she asks, taking a step closer. She knows they’ve already linked their suits, but this—letting someone help with her armour—is still a deeply significant gesture, an intimate act that goes beyond words.

Tali’s hesitation melts away, her heart swelling with affection. “Of course I would,” she replies, her voice warm as she moves to the rack. She takes the chest plate first, lifting it carefully before stepping closer to Alexis. She presses it into place, feeling the attachment points click as the armour locks onto Alexis’s suit. She moves with care, her hands steady, almost reverent as she secures each piece.

Alexis watches her, her gaze soft, filled with emotions she can’t quite put into words. There’s a tenderness in Tali’s movements, an attention to detail that makes Alexis’s chest tighten. She feels the weight of each click, each piece locking into place, and it’s more than just armour. It’s trust. It’s love. It’s the knowledge that someone else cares enough to protect her, to make sure she’s ready for whatever comes.

Once the armour is in place, Tali steps back, her gaze lingering on Alexis. Alexis looks at her, warmth filling her eyes, even if it’s hidden behind her visor. “Thank you,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I need to go check in with Joker before we arrive.”

Tali nods, her own voice filled with warmth. “I’ll meet you in the cargo bay. I’ll check our weapons.” She gives Alexis’s hand a gentle squeeze before turning towards the door, her fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

As she walks to the lift, she glances over her shoulder, giving Alexis a soft smile, a silent promise. Alexis watches her go, her heart swelling with emotions she doesn’t have the words for. She takes a deep breath, turning towards the CIC. There’s a mission to complete, a galaxy to save—but in this moment, she feels something else just as strongly: hope.

Alexis marches through the CIC, her steps purposeful as she moves to Joker’s station. She needs to focus now—for her crew, for Tali, for everything they’re fighting for. “How long now, Joker?”

“About thirty minutes out, Commander. Mu Relay should be in sight within fifteen.” Joker’s voice is calm, though there’s a tension beneath it, the same tension that seems to have settled over the entire ship.

“Keep us in stealth for as long as you can. We’re going to need every second.” Alexis’s mind races as she thinks about the upcoming fight. The Conduit—their objective—is so close now. “We should be able to drop nearly right on top of it, depending on how much Ilos has decayed since the Protheans.”

Joker looks up at her, a grin spreading across his face. “Lucky you’ve got the best damn pilot in the galaxy, then.”

Alexis lets a smile tug at her lips, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Reckon you could take on Sovereign? As a last resort.”

Joker’s grin fades slightly, his eyes narrowing as he considers the question. “I mean, I can try… I can probably evade it for a while. Normandy’s weapons aren’t exactly built for taking out a dreadnought, though. And Sovereign’s probably packing something bigger than anything we’ve got.”

“You know, I was sort of joking,” Alexis admits, though there’s a glint in her eyes that says she’s still considering it. “But good to know.”

She turns to walk away, and Joker leans out of his chair, his voice calling after her. “Shepard, what crazy idea are you cooking up this time?”

She doesn’t turn around, her laughter echoing back to him. “You’ll just have to wait and see, Joker.”

Joker sighs, shaking his head as he settles back in his chair. “I hate it when she says that,” he mutters under his breath, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. He calls out, his voice carrying through the CIC, “You’re gonna get us all killed one day, Commander!”

Alexis’s laughter echoes back, and for a moment, the tension eases. It’s these small moments that keep them all going—the camaraderie, the trust, the hope that somehow, against all odds, they’ll make it through.

Alexis arrived in the cargo bay to controlled chaos. Crew members sprint around, trying to shore up any of the last few systems they can in preparation for their arrival to Ilos. The air is charged with a mix of tension, excitement, and a hint of fear—everyone knows what’s at stake. They all understood that the next steps could determine not only the fate of the Normandy but the entire galaxy. The weight of it presses on them, evident in their hurried movements and silent, focused expressions.

As Alexis looks over the cargo bay, Ashley arrives at her side, her gait slow and careful, “Commander.”

“Chief.”

Alexis spares a glance, noting the bandage that pokes out from under one sleeve and the way Ashley is currently putting all of her weight onto one leg. There’s a stiffness in Ashley’s stance that tells Alexis she’s still hurting from Virmire. Despite that, Ashley’s face holds a determination that shines through the exhaustion and pain. “I just…” Ashley breathes in and out a few times, steadying herself, “I just wanted to thank you. For saving my life. I know Kaidan was a friend and it can’t have been easy to make that decision, but thank you. I don’t know if I would’ve made the same call in your shoes.”

“It was the only call I could make.” Her words come out far harsher than she intends, and she watches as Ashley recoils slightly, her face tightening as though she’d been struck. Alexis immediately softens her voice, her expression shifting to something more understanding. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Kaidan knew what he was doing. He talked me down from making a stupid mistake. I could either save you or lose you both. And you’re too good of a soldier to lose, Williams.” Alexis turns, leaning back to sit against the bench next to the other soldier, her eyes softening as she meets Ashley’s. “I almost let emotion cloud my judgement, and luckily, Kaidan saw through that. He saw through me quite a bit, to be honest. Even if he was a bit of an ass sometimes.” They both laugh, a moment of shared grief and humour passing between them—a brief, poignant tribute to the friend they both lost. “You don’t need to thank me, Ashley. It’s my duty to do everything in my power to get everyone on this ship home alive. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure that happens.”

“All the same, ma’am. Thank you.” Ashley’s voice carries a sincerity that pierces through the chaos surrounding them.

Alexis smiles, the corner of her mouth lifting ever so slightly, “You’re welcome.” She stands up, watching as the Chief begins to walk away. “Ashley.”

Ashley stops, turning back, “Commander?”

“I need you to stay on comms. I have a feeling we might need to make a hasty escape, and I’ll need the Normandy to react straight away.”

“Yes, Commander.” Ashley nods, determination set in her expression. She understands the gravity of the request—knows that Alexis is counting on her to keep them safe.

As Ashley leaves, Tali approaches, Alexis’s weapons in her hands. Tali has already attached her own weapons to her armour, and her eyes are focused, though Alexis can see the warmth beneath them as she nears. “Here you go,” Tali says, her voice steady, though there’s a gentleness in her tone reserved only for Alexis. “All your weapons are ready, but you might have to adjust the scope on your sniper. It got jostled a bit on Virmire, it seems. I did what I could with your suit’s data, but…” She trails off, a small apologetic smile forming behind her visor.

“Thanks, Tali.” Alexis takes her weapons, the familiar weight grounding her as she attaches them to her armour. She unfolds her sniper rifle, bringing it up to her shoulder, peering through the scope. It’s off—blurry, unfocused. Alexis fiddles with the adjustment knob, fine-tuning it until the view becomes crystal clear, her eyes sweeping across the cargo bay, catching the frantic movement of her crew.

Finally satisfied, she lowers the rifle and nods to Tali, who is watching her carefully. “It’s perfect now. Thanks.”

Tali smiles, the warmth reaching her eyes, “Always.”

Ready now, Alexis turns her attention to Garrus, who’s currently tinkering away underneath the Mako, half of his body hidden by the vehicle’s bulk. “Everything all set, Garrus?”

Garrus’s voice echoes from beneath the tank, slightly muffled, “It took a bit of fire on Virmire, but we’re good to go. A couple of the armour plates could use replacement, but we don’t exactly have the means or the time to do it. Maybe your driving will actually be useful and dodge any assaults we take.”

“Here’s hoping,” Alexis replies with a smirk.

“We are coming up on the Mu Relay now.” Joker’s voice suddenly crackles through the ship’s speakers, his tone holding that mix of professionalism and excitement that Joker always carries. “Hitting in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

Alexis feels the Normandy’s engines thrum as they enter the relay’s mass effect field, the ship shuddering slightly as the relay shoots them across the galaxy. The journey through the Mu Relay feels different—longer, more intense. There’s an underlying tension that courses through the ship, as if it knows what’s at stake. Every passing moment seems to stretch on forever, the usual hum of the ship’s machinery heightened by the sense of impending danger.

Finally, the Normandy emerges on the other side, Ilos now within their reach. Alexis takes a deep breath, a sense of determination settling over her. This was it—the point of no return.

“Get the rest of the team ready,” Alexis orders, her eyes set with resolve. “I’ll go sort it out with Joker.”

Garrus rolls out from under the Mako, giving Alexis a curt nod, his mandibles flaring slightly in what she’s come to recognize as a Turian smile. “We’ll be ready. Saren won’t know what hit him.”

Tali moves to stand beside Garrus, her gaze meeting Alexis’s, filled with that mix of trust and something deeper, something Alexis isn’t ready to name just yet. They nod at each other, an unspoken promise shared between them—to come back to each other, to make it through this alive. It’s a promise Alexis clings to as she turns, heading for the elevator. She casts one last glance over her crew, taking in their determined expressions, the way they’re each focused on their task, ready to follow her to whatever end.

Alexis stood behind Joker as the Normandy flew towards Ilos. The planet came into view, the ship’s warnings immediately flashing up with the Geth ships in orbit around it. If the Normandy’s systems were correct, Alexis counted at least a dozen ships in their approach vector, significantly complicating their descent. The sight of the Geth fleet made her stomach tighten, a grim reminder of the challenge ahead and the stakes they were facing. They were flying straight into the heart of enemy territory, and there was no room for mistakes.

“Can you get past them, Joker?” Alexis asked, her voice steady despite the tension running through her body.

“Getting past them is no problem, it’s the landing that’s the issue. Saren is definitely already down there, and he’s got an army of Geth behind him.” Joker studied the data in front of him, his fingers moving over the controls with the precision of someone in their element. “No Sovereign though.”

Alexis raised an eyebrow at that, her concern deepening. Where was Saren’s Reaper? The absence of Sovereign was extremely troubling. It had been their biggest threat, a colossal force that could change the outcome of any battle. If Sovereign wasn’t here, where the hell was it? What was it planning? The possibilities ran through her mind, none of them good.

Navigator Pressly chimed in to their conversation, his brow furrowed as he read the incoming data. “Commander, I’m picking up some strange readings from the surface. They don’t make any sense.”

Alexis moved to stand next to her second in command, leaning over his console to get a look at the readings. “Huge Mass Effect field distortions,” Pressly continued. “They’re warping everything around them. They’re contained, but I have a feeling it could rip the planet apart if they weren’t.”

The data on the screen showed erratic energy fields, waves of gravitational force that seemed barely contained within a series of ancient structures. Alexis narrowed her eyes at the display, her mind trying to piece together the puzzle. Ilos was supposed to hold the key to the Conduit, and now it seemed like the entire planet was a fragile battleground waiting to implode. The margin for error here was zero.

Alexis turned her attention to Pressly, her voice sharp. “Nearest drop point?”

Pressly’s eyes scanned the readings again, quickly assessing the terrain. “In theory, on top of Saren himself. But there’s only twenty metres of ground, and the Mako needs at least a hundred to drop safely.” He quickly looked over their scan of Ilos again, shaking his head. “Nearest drop point is five clicks out.”

“Find something closer,” Alexis demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. She didn’t have time to waste on an approach that long. Every second mattered.

“There isn’t,” Pressly insisted, his tone strained.

Alexis clenched her jaw, unwilling to accept that answer. “Find it!”

“I’m telling you, Commander, there’s nothing!” Pressly’s frustration was palpable, but Alexis couldn’t afford to back down. Not now.

Joker spoke over the two of them, his voice calm despite the tension in the air. “I can drop you on top of him.”

Pressly’s head snapped up, his eyes widening in disbelief. “There’s nowhere near enough room, you’ll get them all killed!”

Joker spun in his chair, not even sparing Pressly a glance. His gaze locked onto Alexis, filled with determination. “I can do it.”

Pressly protested again, his voice rising. “Even if the Mako makes it, there’s no way the Normandy can pull off a manoeuvre like that without catastrophic damage!”

Alexis held up a hand, silencing Pressly with a single gesture. Her gaze never wavered from Joker. “Pressly, shut it.” She took a step closer to Joker, her voice dropping slightly. “Joker, are you sure?”

“Am I the best god damn pilot in the galaxy?” The usual cockiness that accompanied that statement was absent from Joker’s tone this time. Instead, there was a quiet, fierce confidence—a certainty that went beyond bravado.

Alexis felt a grin spread across her face, the kind of grin that only came when the odds were impossibly high but the stakes were worth it. “Damn right you are.”

Joker nodded, his hands already moving back to the controls, his focus entirely on the task ahead. “Then you bet your ass I can do it.”

Alexis began to jog away backwards, her voice echoing through the cockpit, filled with a mixture of adrenaline and determination. “Then drop the Mako. I want to see the look in Saren’s eyes before I crush him underneath that tank.”

“Yes ma’am!” Joker called after her, his voice filled with resolve. The energy in the cockpit was electric, a shared understanding that they were all about to do something insane—something that just might save the galaxy.

As Alexis moved through the ship, she felt the adrenaline pumping through her veins, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew what they were about to do was risky, but she trusted Joker with her life. She trusted her crew, and they trusted her. That trust was what made them more than just soldiers. It made them a team, ready to do whatever it took to stop Saren and Sovereign.

Reaching the cargo bay, Alexis saw Garrus and Wrex already prepping the Mako, their movements precise and efficient. Tali was there too, running last-minute diagnostics. The sight of her brought a sense of calm to Alexis, even amidst the chaos. She paused for a brief moment, watching her team work together, each of them focused on the mission ahead. This was it. Everything they’d worked for, everything they’d sacrificed, had led to this moment.

“Alright, everyone,” Alexis called out, her voice carrying over the noise of the preparations. “We’re dropping in hot. Joker’s going to put us right on top of Saren. We’ll hit hard and fast. No mistakes.”

Garrus looked up from his work, a confident smirk on his face. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Commander.”

Wrex let out a deep, rumbling laugh, his eyes glinting with anticipation. “Finally, a real fight.”

Tali glanced over at Alexis, her eyes meeting hers through their visors. There was a moment of understanding between them—a silent promise that they’d both come back from this. Alexis nodded, her resolve hardening. They were ready.

“Let’s do this,” Alexis said, her voice filled with determination. The crew’s answering nods were all she needed. They were with her, every step of the way.

Joker’s voice crackled over the comms, “Hold on, everyone. This is going to be one hell of a ride.”

Alexis holds on tight as she feels the Normandy enter Ilos’s atmosphere. The cargo bay door opens even as they are still on their approach, the surface of Ilos revealing itself inch by inch. They are coming in hard into a Prothean city, ruins as far as the eye can see. Everything has the distinct discolouration of rust and millennia of catastrophic weather events that have crumbled the city into practically nothing with nobody to repair the damage. Any of the buildings that are still standing are missing at least their top half, the rest of them looking ready to collapse at a moment’s notice.

“Coming in hot, Shepard, get ready.”

Alexis’s eyes fall on Geth forces as they approach the drop point, all converging to a single point. What looks like a giant tunnel into the earth has its gaping maw open, only a short run visible before it cuts off. The scans of the Normandy have shown exactly where Joker will be dropping the Mako, and just how short a distance they actually have to be able to pull this mostly-suicidal move off.

Alexis grips the steering wheel hard, trying to psych herself up for what is going to be the hardest landing she has ever pulled off. She trusts Joker’s piloting skills completely, it is her own driving skills she is worried about. As much as she complains when others insult her for them, she knows she is always playing with everyone’s lives every time she gets behind the wheel. But perhaps that will be what they need to land in one piece.

“Dropping in 3… 2… 1… NOW!”

Alexis puts her foot to the floor, the Mako soaring out of the Normandy’s cargo bay. She can feel the ship make the tightest turn that its hardware will even possibly allow, the camera at the back of the tank showing it accelerating at such an extreme angle upwards, Alexis thinks the entire ship might shear in half from the force of it.

The tank plummets towards its target, passing through a hole in the Prothean ruins just barely big enough for the Mako itself. Alexis can see Saren, the Turian staring wide-eyed at the airborne tank currently barrelling towards him. The Turian reacts, rushing inside the tunnel Alexis has seen and shutting the huge blast doors.

“Oh shit.”

The Mako hits the ground with titanic force, Alexis struggling against the controls to keep it from rolling over, hands flying over the console and orienting each one of the individual rockets that normally propel the tank straight up or get it out of a jam. The squad is tossed around in their seats, even Wrex grunting his pain at the landing. They rocket towards the now closed blast doors, every little rocket firing in reverse to attempt to slow their approach. The wheels skid on the ground; their brakes useless against the velocity they have fallen at.

The Mako’s front slams into the blast door, its back four wheels coming clear of the ground before falling back down onto all six and tossing the squad around once more. Alexis raises her head from where it has hit the steering wheel, feeling her heart nearly beating out of her chest. She releases her grip on the controls, joints painful with how much of her strength she was putting into them to be able to actually land the tank.

Alexis slams her hands into the steering wheel, “FUCK!” The door flies open, the Commander hopping out and punching the blast door. From what she has seen from the air, this door is at least a metre or two thick. There is no way the Mako’s weaponry could get through it. She doubts even the nuclear device they set off on Virmire would stand a chance at getting through it, even with a direct blast. They are of Prothean make, so having Tali hack through them would be impossible or at least take too long to be practical.

Tali moves away, inspecting the blast door for herself. Heavy cables run from the sides of it and away from their position. There must be some sort of power source that could get these open again. The Quarian very much doubts they have been open when Saren got here, so the Turian had to have found a way to open them. Therefore, they could too. “Alexis!” She looks where Tali is pointing, a Geth device attached to the huge cable that powers the door on one side. “The Geth have to be powering this thing somehow. Follow the cables and we should find how they did it and open it for ourselves.”

“As good a plan as any.” Alexis looks around. They are not getting the Mako out of the small pathway they landed in, heavy barricades preventing the tank’s movement from anywhere but through the tunnel. “Looks like we’re going it on foot. Form up and let’s move out.”

“Just how I like it.” Wrex grins as he takes out his shotgun, relishing the chance to challenge the Geth once more. Any new fight is something Wrex can get behind, and if these synthetics serve Saren, all the better.

“Joker, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Shepard.”

“I want you to hightail the Normandy back to the Citadel, now.”

“Wait, what? I’m not leaving you here. What if you need extraction?”

“Joker, I wasn’t asking. Get back to the Citadel. If I’m right, that’s where Sovereign is headed while Saren gets the Conduit here. I need you to get back there now, warn them what’s coming. Get through to Admiral Hackett, tell him the situation. And tell him this is coming from me. He’ll ready the fleet.”

“Shepard, I can’t just-”

“JOKER!”

Alexis's yell silences the pilot for a few moments, “Yes, Commander. I’ll get back there. Stay alive, for me.”

“Will do, Shepard out.”

The squad sees the Normandy streak back past their position and accelerate out of the atmosphere. They all draw their weapons, backtracking away from the Mako. Alexis leads them at a light jog, intent on giving Saren as little of a head start as possible.

The city they have landed in is practically decrepit, every building looking like it is seconds away from falling down at the slightest breeze. The tracks in the dirt tell them all they need to know about the Geth forces that are present on the planet. The synthetics’ footprints leave a mangled patchwork of the ground that has likely remained undisturbed for centuries. They will be facing heavy resistance from the synthetics no matter where they go. They will all have to be on high alert the whole mission if they want to pull this off.

Alexis spins their heading a full 180 degrees once they have managed to move away from the opening that they landed the Mako in. She quickly orients herself with the Geth hardware Tali has spotted, eyes tracking where the cable runs off in the distance towards a building that seems in better condition than others around it. Geth structures cover the outside of it, large claws embedded in the side. If Alexis has to guess, they are holding the building up from any further collapse, preventing the important hardware on the inside from sustaining damage.

Alexis holds up her fist, halting their progress towards the building. She switches her helmet’s visor to scan for heat signatures. As she suspected, Geth constructs dot all over the path they have to take towards their goal. From what she can tell, they haven’t noticed the four soldiers yet, but that will quickly change if they’re not careful. There’s no path they can take that avoids the Geth, and as soon as they engage, every single unit will be alerted to their position. They have to be smart about this.

“Follow my lead,” Alexis says, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Alexis creeps as close as she can to the first group without alerting the synthetics to her presence. She crouches behind a mound of rubble, only a few metres of open space between her and the nearest Geth. Wrex joins her, his bulk just barely able to stay concealed. Garrus and Tali stay further back, ready to strike as soon as she does. Alexis takes a few quick breaths, gripping her shotgun tightly in her hands, the weight of the weapon grounding her.

With a practised movement, Alexis leaps into the air, firing on the closest Geth with one hand while her other hand pushes off the rubble. The Geth takes the full brunt of her blast, a hole blown through its chest, its glowing optics flickering as it crumples to the ground. Alexis lands on the ground, rolling back to her feet and making a beeline for the next Geth. She fires her shotgun point-blank into its chest, launching it backwards into the Geth behind it.

Wrex is barely a metre behind the tossed Geth, his shotgun roaring as he fires, taking out both enemies in one shot. Only three remain of this initial group, and Wrex is already charging at the next one, a deep, guttural growl escaping his lips. He feels new holes spring up in his armour as the Geth unload into his chest, but Wrex doesn’t slow down, barely noticing the wounds. His biotics flare up, a blue glow surrounding him as he slams his shoulder into the Geth, sending it soaring through the air. It collides hard with a far wall, the impact crushing its power cell to the point that it’s little more than a paperweight now.

Garrus focuses on the furthest Geth, not even bothering to crouch as he aims. He takes barely a second before squeezing the trigger, blasting apart its head with a well-placed shot. Tali rushes ahead of him, her omni-tool glowing as she overloads the last Geth’s systems. The synthetic convulses as its circuits fry, and Tali fires point-blank into its chest, finishing it off. Garrus turns his attention to the next approaching group, taking his time with each shot, every bullet precise and deadly.

The entire area descends into chaos, the Geth now well aware of their presence. Garrus eyes their goal through his scope, noting more Geth preparing to overwhelm them with sheer numbers if they try a direct assault through the front entrance. He scans the building, seeing no other entrance besides the front doors. “Shepard, we might have a problem,” he calls out, his voice crackling through the comms.

Alexis pulls her fist free from a Geth trooper, her knuckles aching from the impact. She answers as she charges at the next enemy, “Of course we do. Why wouldn’t we?”

Garrus ignores Alexis’s irritation, his tone serious. “Front door’s a no-go. We’ll get gunned down before we make it a foot inside.” He pauses to shoot a Geth that nearly manages to flank Tali. “We need another way in.”

“Building will fall apart if we try to blow a hole in the wall,” Tali adds, diving behind cover and working furiously with her omni-tool. She does her best to ignore the fact that she almost got taken out from behind. “And probably crush whatever Saren used to power that blast door. We can’t afford that.”

Wrex takes a quick count of the Geth he can see inside. He spots a Geth Prime far in the back, already aiming in their direction. It’s likely waiting for them to make a move, ready to take them all out with a single shot. “I can’t make it inside either. There’s too many of them, and that Prime will tear us to shreds,” Wrex grunts. “Not exactly how I wanted to go.”

Alexis groans, frustration bubbling beneath her skin as they edge closer to the building, running out of time to make a decision. She ducks under a Geth’s swing, bringing her elbow up and slamming it into the synthetic’s chest. Staggering it, and Alexis rips the piece away, firing her pistol into the exposed wiring. “There has to be a way in there,” she mutters, her eyes scanning the surroundings. Every second counts, and the longer they hesitate, the more Geth converge on their position. Even if Wrex used his biotics to form a barrier, it wouldn’t last long enough to get them inside. The entrance begins with a long, thin corridor—a perfect choke point that would end in their slaughter if they attempted to use it. There are no balconies to speak of, ruling out trying to flank the synthetics from above. No side entrances either.

The idea hits Alexis suddenly as she sends a Geth flying over a railing, its body plummeting to the ground below. She looks over the edge, spying a small opening in the wall almost directly below them. It’s barely noticeable, just a gap in the foundation of the building. “We come up from below,” she says, her eyes narrowing as she assesses the possibility.

Wrex joins her, shaking his head as she points out her idea. “I won’t fit through that. Vakarian won’t either.”

“You don’t need to. Tali, with me. You two stay up here and prevent any Geth from following us. We’ll create enough of a distraction from the inside for you two to come in through the front.”

Wrex re-joins the fight, grinning. “You better hope those muscles aren’t too big, Alexis. I’m not coming down there to pull you out.”

“Not fat like you, Wrex. I’ll be fine,” Alexis retorts, not giving the Krogan time to reply. She signals Tali and they both double back to a short ramp, making their way towards the opening.

The gap in the foundation proves to be little more than a crack, just barely wide enough for someone in heavy armour to squeeze through. Alexis removes her weapons, tossing them through first. She draws her pistol just in case, turning sideways and starting to edge through. She sucks in her chest, feeling the concrete press against her from both sides. Short, shallow breaths are all she can manage, her lungs struggling against the pressure. She’s almost tempted to remove her torso armour, knowing she’d have an easier time if she could compress herself further.

Alexis reaches out, her fingers brushing the far wall. She grips it tightly, using all her strength to drag herself through. She stumbles forward, landing hard on her knees. Gasping, she takes in several deep breaths now that she’s finally free. Quickly, she gets to her feet, her eyes scanning the room, making sure it’s clear as Tali begins squeezing through behind her.

Tali emerges, brushing dust from her armour. “I would’ve liked to see Wrex try to make it through that,” she says, her voice tinged with humour. They both pick up their discarded weapons, readying themselves for whatever’s ahead. “He’d have brought the whole building down on top of us.”

“I heard that,” Wrex’s voice comes through the comm.

“You’re a Krogan, Wrex. Getting into small spaces isn’t exactly your speciality,” Tali quips.

Wrex laughs, a deep rumble. “Fair enough. But you Quarians wouldn’t last long under fire like we do.”

Alexis shakes her head, interrupting their banter. “No one lasts under fire like you, Wrex. Now focus up. Advance through the front entrance on my signal.” She exchanges a quick nod with Tali, and they move further into the basement, preparing for what comes next.

Alexis draws her shotgun, the weight familiar and grounding in her hands, as she moves silently through the dank, dimly lit underground passage. The stale air is heavy with moisture, the walls seeming to close in around them as they make their careful approach. Faint echoes of gunfire filter through the thick ceiling above—the unmistakable sound of Geth weapons firing on the other two members of her squad. Garrus and Wrex are taking the brunt of the enemy's attention, giving Alexis and Tali the opportunity to work unnoticed. They remain focused, quiet, the tension between them palpable, each movement deliberately controlled to keep the element of surprise as long as possible.

They reach the end of the narrow hallway, and it splits into two ramps that each lead upward. Alexis pauses, her visor illuminating the path as she quickly assesses their options. Each ramp curves slightly out of sight, making it impossible to tell precisely where they lead. They could come out directly in front of the Geth Prime—the massive synthetic that looms as their greatest threat—or, with some luck, end up behind it, giving them the upper hand they desperately need.

Alexis turns her helmet towards Tali. “Go right. I’ll take the left,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Tali nods, her visor flashing with determination. They exchange a look—a mixture of anxiety, trust, and unspoken solidarity—before separating. Each takes to their ramp, moving as silently as possible. Alexis keeps her steps measured, rolling her feet from heel to toe to minimise the sound of her movement. The air grows colder as she ascends, the faint light of her visor casting long shadows on the stone walls around her. She can hear the gunfire growing louder, the distinct booming thuds of the Prime's cannon resonating through the structure, each one a reminder of the stakes they face.

As she reaches the top of the ramp, Alexis slowly raises her head above the small barrier at its end. Her heart pounds in her ears as she takes in the scene before her—just a few metres away stands the Geth Prime, its hulking form focused entirely on the main entrance of the building where Garrus and Wrex are pinned down. The heavy thud of its weapon echoes as it fires shot after shot, unaware of the danger approaching from behind.

Alexis glances across the open space, her eyes locking with Tali's. Tali is crouched, waiting just as Alexis is, her weapon at the ready. Alexis makes a few quick hand gestures, pointing towards the Prime and the other Geth platforms scattered around the room. Tali nods, her movements sharp and precise—she is ready. Alexis opens her omni-tool, her fingers dancing over the controls as she types out a message to Wrex and Garrus, her heart in her throat. The response comes almost instantly, both affirmatives. They are ready.

Alexis raises her hand, holding her two fingers and thumb out as she starts to count down—three, two, one. She closes her fist, and they move.

Alexis and Tali sprint towards the Prime, closing the distance with practised ease. Their steps are silent, their presence masked by the chaos of the firefight ahead. They move as one, each knowing the role they must play. As they approach the Prime, Alexis raises her shotgun, aiming for the back of its knee joint. Tali mirrors her on the opposite side. They fire in unison, the twin blasts shattering metal and wiring with a deafening crack, the force sending the Prime crashing down to the floor.

The massive synthetic lets out an almost mechanical groan, its limbs flailing as it struggles to regain control. Alexis doesn't give it the chance—she leaps over the writhing limb, her shotgun already aimed at the shoulder joint. She pulls the trigger, the blast tearing the synthetic limb from its socket. Tali follows suit, disabling the Prime's other arm with a well-placed shot. The once fearsome platform now lies broken and helpless on the ground.

“Finish it!” Alexis shouts, her voice filled with grim determination. Together, they aim at the Prime’s central core, the glowing hub of its power. Two blasts in unison, and the light fades from the machine’s eyes—the Geth Prime is deactivated.

The remaining Geth turn at the sudden loss of their leader, their synthetic minds recalculating the unexpected threat. Half of them swing towards Alexis and Tali, their weapons whirring to life as they attempt to adapt to the new attack. Alexis fires off another round, catching one of the nearest Geth in the chest, sending it crashing to the ground in a shower of sparks. The plan is working, but they need to act fast.

“Go!” Alexis shouts into her comm as she ducks behind cover, her voice barely audible over the roar of gunfire. “Wrex, Garrus, now!”

Wrex lets out a fierce war cry, leaping over the barricade that had shielded him moments before. His barrier glows bright, absorbing the onslaught of bullets as he charges straight into the building. He raises his shotgun, firing at the nearest Geth. The blast staggers the synthetic, and Wrex closes the distance with a snarl, gripping its weapon and plunging it through the Geth’s chest. The sheer force crumples the metal plating, the Geth collapsing as Wrex turns to find his next target.

Behind him, Garrus moves with precision, his sniper rifle raised as he follows in Wrex’s wake. The Krogan’s massive frame shields him from incoming fire, allowing Garrus to take aim. He fires three shots in quick succession, each one finding its mark. Two Geth drop, sparks flying from their shattered heads. The third manages to jerk out of the way at the last second, losing an arm instead of its head. It charges at Garrus, weaponless but determined.

Garrus barely has time to react as the Geth slams into him, the impact sending him sprawling to the ground. His sniper rifle skids out of reach, and the synthetic raises its remaining arm, ready to strike. Garrus grabs the Geth’s wrist, twisting it with all his strength as he rolls to the side, throwing the machine off balance. He scrambles to his feet, drawing his pistol and unloading into the Geth’s chest. Each shot drives it back, until finally, the light in its eyes flickers and dies.

Alexis and Tali split up, each moving to flank the remaining Geth. Alexis grabs a Geth by the arm as it swings at her, using its momentum to hurl it into one of the rocket troopers just as it fires. The explosion is immediate, engulfing both machines in flames. Shrapnel bounces off Alexis’s shields, but she doesn’t slow down, her shotgun barking as she tears through another synthetic.

Tali finds herself face to face with a rocket trooper, the weapon aimed directly at her. She knows she can’t dodge—not without risking the vital Geth hardware that powers the blast doors. She makes a split-second decision, charging at the Geth with everything she has. The trooper hesitates, its programming unable to risk the shot at such close range. Tali closes the distance, her shotgun knocked from her hands by the Geth’s wild swing. She ducks, dodging its attacks as she charges up an overload on her omni-tool.

With a cry, Tali slams her hand into the Geth’s chest, the overload discharging into its core. The synthetic shudders, its systems locking up as electricity courses through it. Tali draws her pistol, pressing it against the Geth’s head and pulling the trigger. The light fades from its optics, and it collapses to the ground. Tali retrieves her shotgun, her breathing heavy as she looks around for her next target.

All four members of the squad finish their last targets in near-perfect synchrony, the echoes of battle fading into silence. Alexis lowers her shotgun, her gaze sweeping the room. The only sounds are the faint hum of the Geth’s machinery and the whistling of wind through the crumbling structure. They’ve done it. The Geth are down, and they’ve cleared the path. Alexis locks eyes with Tali across the room, the two sharing a nod—a silent acknowledgement of their success, of their trust in each other.

Alexis breathes out a sigh of relief, glad her plan has worked. The building has taken a few shots, but nothing that would bring it crashing down on their heads. If they’d left the rocket troopers or even the Prime alive any longer, they surely would have compromised the structural integrity of the building to prevent them from following Saren. It’s what she would have done, but maybe the Geth didn’t think like that—or wouldn’t have thought of it at all. Sacrificing the few to save the many isn’t a bargain she would’ve made lightly, but she most likely would have made it anyway.

Tali makes her way straight to the Geth hardware at the end of the room, her fingers flying across her omni-tool as she begins hacking through their cyber-security. She’s getting even faster, so used to the Geth’s security protocols after these last few weeks that she’s fairly certain she could get through them blindfolded or maybe even asleep.

Garrus lets his helmet fold down, hissing in pain as he lightly touches his damaged mandible. “Hey Shepard, take a look at this?” Alexis inspects the Turian’s injury, using some medi-gel on the small section of it that’s an open wound.

“You’re going to scar, that’s for sure.”

“Just what I wanted to hear.” He smiles slightly, the expression almost immediately disappearing, “Okay, note to self, don’t smile.”

Alexis pats him on the shoulder, her expression softening with sympathy before she makes her way over to Tali. “Can you get that blast door open?”

Tali makes a small affirmative sound, her visor focused on the data streaming from her omni-tool. “I’ve nearly got it. We just have to hope Saren isn’t too far ahead, or that he’s found the Conduit already.”

“We can’t think like that. We’ll catch him, I know it.”

“I admire your confidence, Alexis.” Tali inputs a few more commands, her voice filled with determination. “And… done.”

“Great, now let’s…” Alexis’s voice trails off as a hologram flickers to life next to the Geth console. It isn’t coming from the console itself, but from the wall behind it. It’s a jumbled mess of light, no distinct shape forming as it writhes in the air. “Uh… Are you doing this, Tali?” she asks, pretty sure Tali isn't.

An alien voice crackles to life, the audio distorted and broken, “Too late… unable to… invading fleets… no escape…”

Tali inspects the wall behind it, her hands brushing over the metal surface as she searches for the source. “It’s not me,” she says, glancing at Alexis, her visor betraying her confusion.

“It’s a warning.” Alexis's voice turns grave, the message resonating with her. “A warning against the Reapers… but it came too late. I think it’s the last thing any Prothean on Ilos would’ve heard before the Reapers got here to destroy them. But it’s all broken up, the words don’t string together right.”

The hologram continues its message, the static cutting in and out, “Not safe… seek refuge… inside the archives… called Reapers… the Citadel… overwhelmed… only hope…” The voice shifts, growing clearer than before, “Act of desperation… the Conduit… all is lost…”

“It mentions the Conduit, but it’s too degraded to help us, I think. The last bit was from someone on Ilos, someone desperate.” Alexis moves next to Tali, watching the Quarian try to pry a panel off the wall to get at the computer that’s producing the hologram. “Any luck?”

Tali shakes her head, her voice apologetic. “No. I could get through, but it would take too much time.”

Alexis nods, her expression hardening with resolve. “Let’s get back to the Mako. Saren's got enough of a head start as it is.”

The squad follows Alexis out, quickly making their way back to the tank. They climb in, Alexis pushing the accelerator to the floor as they roar down the newly opened tunnel beneath the city. Darkness surrounds them, the Mako’s headlights casting long beams that only seem to deepen the shadows. The tunnel begins to descend, the walls changing from ancient stone to raw earth, choked with roots that seem to claw at them as they pass. Eventually, the dirt gives way to seamless metal, a testament to Prothean ingenuity even this far below ground.

A light appears ahead, the ground levelling out, the walls changing again to a patchwork of hatches. Some are open, revealing flattened cylinders with flickering lights on their ends, their dim glow barely illuminating their surroundings.

“What are all those things on the walls?” Garrus breaks the silence that has fallen over them. “Some sort of containers?”

Tali answers, her voice tinged with sadness. “They look like stasis pods. Maybe the Protheans thought they could wait out the Reapers down here? But it doesn’t look like they succeeded. They would’ve needed a self-sustaining power source, and I doubt they could’ve made one that would continue to work for 50,000 years. Not without maintenance.”

“Liara told me that the Protheans were more advanced than us, at least by a little.” Alexis thinks aloud, her eyes scanning the rows of pods. “If they did create that kind of power source… we might find a living Prothean down here.”

Wrex chuckles, his deep voice echoing off the metal walls. “Unless Saren got to it first.”

“True.” Alexis's grip on the controls tightens, her eyes narrowing as she focuses on the path ahead. The silence stretches between them, heavy with the weight of their shared uncertainty. Wherever the Conduit is, it’s far from where they entered this underground labyrinth.

“I’m surprised Saren didn’t leave any traps behind to slow us down.” Alexis's voice is steady, but there’s an edge of unease to it.

“Maybe he was in too much of a hurry, kind of like us?” Tali’s suggestion is hopeful, her voice a rare note of optimism.

“Or we haven’t run into them yet.” Wrex’s tone is gruff, more pragmatic.

True to the Krogan’s prediction, a rocket streaks out from the darkness, forcing Alexis to swerve the Mako violently. The projectile slams into the wall, an explosion rocking the tunnel, sending one of the stasis pods crashing to the ground in a blaze of fire. Alexis spots the source of the attack—a Geth rocket trooper hidden among the shadows, flanked by a squad of troopers. She fires the Mako’s main gun, the cannon's deafening roar consuming the rocket trooper in a fiery explosion. The smaller guns swivel, locking onto the remaining Geth, tearing through their ranks with unrelenting precision.

“You had to say it,” Alexis mutters, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

Wrex laughs, the sound guttural and full of amusement. “Can’t have you getting bored, Shepard.”

“Ugh. Do you want to walk the rest of the way?” Alexis shoots back, glancing at him through her visor.

Wrex shifts in his seat, his armour clanking against the walls of the Mako. He nearly collides with Garrus, who mutters a curse under his breath. “If walking has more leg room, sure.”

“Right, I’ll make sure to get Alliance R&D to upgrade the Mako to accommodate Krogans. Right after we defeat Saren and the Reapers.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Hey, Alexis?” Tali’s voice cuts through the banter, her finger pointing forward, her tone tinged with concern. “That’s going to be a problem.”

Alexis follows her gaze, her heart sinking as she sees the obstacle ahead. An enormous energy field stretches across the tunnel, its shimmering surface blocking their path completely. It reaches from floor to ceiling, impenetrable and absolute. Alexis slows the Mako, the tank’s engines rumbling as she brings it to a stop in front of the barrier.

She steps out, the cold air biting through her armour as she approaches the energy field. The barrier hums with power, and Alexis reaches out, her gloved fingers brushing against its surface. It’s solid—far too strong for any weapon they have at their disposal. She frowns, her eyes scanning the edges of the shield, but there’s no visible mechanism to disable it. Whatever controls it must be hidden deep within the structure.

“I don’t think this was Saren,” Tali speaks up, her voice thoughtful.

Alexis turns to her, confused. “What else could’ve possibly done it? Who or what else would want to stop us from getting to him?”

“I don’t know,” Tali admits, her gaze fixed on the barrier, “but how would Saren have even had time to activate this? There’s no console out here, and if it was a defence mechanism, wouldn’t it have stopped him too? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe…” Alexis ponders for a moment, nodding slowly. “Still, we have to find a way through.”

“Shepard!” Garrus’s voice calls out, drawing her attention. He stands a short distance away, his eyes wide with surprise as he gestures towards a door that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. The wall has folded away, revealing an entry that hadn’t been there moments before. “The wall just opened when I got close. Might be a way to shut the barrier down.”

Alexis strides over, her curiosity piqued. “Worth a try.” She opens the door, her eyes widening as she’s confronted with an elevator—its design distinctly Prothean, the control panel offering only one option for the floor they could go to. She takes a breath, her gaze flicking back to her team. “Looks like we’re going down.”

She presses the button, the lift shuddering to life as it descends, taking them deeper into the heart of Ilos. The air grows colder, the metallic clang of machinery reverberating through the confined space. Alexis draws her assault rifle, the weight familiar and comforting in her grip as she positions herself in front of the door.

“Be ready for anything,” she says, her voice low and steady, her eyes locking with each of her squadmates’. There’s a tension in the air, an unspoken understanding between them. They have no idea what lies ahead—whether it’s traps, more Geth, or something far worse. But they’ve come this far, and they won’t stop now.

The squad waits in tense silence as the ancient elevator rumbles deeper into the bowels of Ilos. Alexis swears the whole contraption is about to shake itself apart, the way it shudders and groans with every passing moment. The cracked walls aren’t exactly comforting either, releasing small clouds of dust with every violent jolt. The air feels heavy, stale, thick with the taste of damp metal and age. Every breath is a reminder of the uncertain depths they’re plunging into, and of how much is at stake.

Alexis tightens her grip on her assault rifle, her finger resting just above the trigger as her eyes flicker between the two doors. They’re ready, each member of the squad poised to strike the moment the doors open—not knowing whether they’ll be met with a Geth platoon, malfunctioning Prothean defences, or maybe something even worse. The unknown waits on the other side, and time seems to stretch as they brace themselves for whatever might be ahead.

The elevator jerks to a stop, the sound of old gears and mechanisms echoing in the enclosed space. Alexis hears her own heartbeat thundering in her ears, but she takes a steadying breath, determined to stay sharp. She exchanges a glance with Tali. The Quarian’s visor reflects the dim light of the elevator, but Alexis can feel the fierce determination there, even beneath the opaque glass of Tali's helmet. She glances over to Wrex and Garrus, both poised with weapons in hand. The unspoken bond of trust between them gives her a surge of confidence.

The doors finally fly open, the speed catching Alexis off guard, and for a heartbeat she’s ready to pull the trigger. The emptiness of the chamber before them stills her hand, and she slowly lowers her rifle. No Geth, no turrets, just the darkness of the ancient chamber yawning out before them. She rises from her crouched position, signalling the others to move forward cautiously.

They step into the massive underground hall, stasis pods lining the walls, towering into the abyss above. Their dim glow barely pushes back the darkness, highlighting only a portion of the walkway that stretches forward, flanked on either side by endless rows of decaying technology. Alexis frowns as her eyes take it all in, the scale of it humbling, even as the ruins betray their age—millennia-old machinery and rusted metal mixed with Prothean technology she could only begin to fathom. It’s as if the ghosts of an entire civilization are watching them, their remnants locked in the silence of their failed last stand.

The squad falls in behind Alexis, advancing carefully across the walkway, every footstep echoing in the cavernous room. It’s cold, colder than the tunnels above, and each breath comes out as mist that hangs in the air. At the far end of the room, a pedestal comes into view, and Alexis narrows her eyes as she approaches. It’s a Prothean terminal. She’d seen similar devices on Feros—interfaces used by Protheans to house VI programs.

She kneels in front of it, looking over her shoulder at Tali. "Think this thing still works?"

Tali’s fingers dance over her omni-tool, scanning the terminal from a distance. "It’s showing some power… I’ll give it a shot."

Before Tali can step forward, a flickering light projects itself above the pedestal. The hologram is chaotic at first—jumbled flashes of imagery, distorted figures—before settling into something more stable. Alexis rises to her feet, her heart skipping a beat as a voice crackles into existence, garbled and broken.

The VI continued, either not noticing Tali fiddling with its terminal or simply ignoring her. "I do not sense the taint of indoctrination on any of you. Unlike the other that passed recently." It paused, seemingly thinking through its next response. "Perhaps there is still hope for this cycle."

Tali paused, looking up at the hologram. "Hold on a second…. Why aren’t you speaking the Prothean language like the other VI?"

The VI’s projection turned to face Tali, the movement making it clear it was focusing on the Quarian. "I have been monitoring your communications since you arrived at this facility. I have translated my output into a format you will comprehend." It turned back to Alexis. "My name is Vigil. You are safe here for the moment. But that is likely to change. Soon, nowhere will be safe."

"What are you?" Alexis’s question seemed like it would have an obvious answer, but she couldn’t be sure this wasn’t a trap set by Saren, even if it was unlikely he’d had the time to come down here and set it up.

"I am Vigil." When the squad remained silent, Vigil continued. "I am an advanced non-organic analysis system with personality imprints from Ksad Ishan, chief overseer of the Ilos research facility. I was charged by the Protheans to keep this facility running at all costs. I have been active since their destruction by the Reapers and would have continued to be even if you had not come. That is my purpose."

Alexis nodded, not entirely convinced but pressing forward anyhow. "Did you set up the energy field?"

"I did. It was necessary to bring you here. Unlike the others, you are not indoctrinated, at least not yet. You must break a cycle that has continued for millions of years. You must succeed where the Protheans failed." Vigil seemed to be almost pleading with them. "But, to stop it, you must understand, or you will make the same mistakes they did. The Citadel is the heart of your civilization, and the seat of government, just as it was with the Protheans, and as it has been with every civilization that came before us. But the Citadel is a trap. The station is actually an enormous Mass Relay, one that links to Dark Space, the empty void beyond the galaxy’s horizon. When the Citadel Relay is activated, the Reapers will pour through and all you know will be destroyed."

Alexis stepped back slightly at the revelation. "And if Sovereign can activate it, the Reapers will take out the Council and the entire Citadel fleet in a single attack. We wouldn’t even stand a chance against them."

"That was our fate. Our leaders were dead before we even realized we were under attack. The Reapers seized control of the Citadel and, through it, the Mass Relays. Communication and transportation across our empire were crippled. Each star system was isolated, cut off from the others. Easy prey for the Reaper fleets. Over the next decades, the Reapers systematically obliterated our people, world by world, system by system. They methodically wiped us out."

"Surely some of you must have survived? Hidden from the Reapers and waited it out?" Alexis couldn’t imagine doing that herself, but not everyone was a career soldier or had the drive to keep fighting that she had.

"With control of the Citadel, the Reapers had access to our records, maps, and census data. Information is power, and with all that, the Reapers knew everything about us. Their fleet advanced across the galaxy, wiping out every settled region. Some worlds were utterly destroyed; others were conquered, their populations enslaved. These indoctrinated slaves became sleeper agents under Reaper control. They were taken in as refugees by other Protheans. They betrayed them to their masters. Within a few centuries, the Reapers had killed or enslaved every Prothean in the galaxy. They were relentless, brutal, and absolutely thorough."

“If they’d succeeded in all that, why would the Reapers leave? There wouldn’t have been a single threat that could stand against them, at least not in any meaningful way.” Perhaps she needed to be a machine to truly understand the Reapers' motives and actions, but Alexis thought they needed to make at least a little sense.

Vigil continued, “Our worlds were stripped bare, harvested by the indoctrinated slaves. Everything of value—all resources, all technology—was taken. Certain that all organic life had been extinguished, the Reapers retreated through the Citadel relay back into Dark Space, sealing it behind them. All evidence of the Reaper invasion had been wiped away. Only their indoctrinated slaves were left behind, abandoned. Mindless husks no longer capable of independent thought, the indoctrinated soon starved or died of exposure. The genocide of the Protheans was complete.”

“What do the Reapers get out of this? Why do they keep repeating the same cycle of genocide over and over again?”

Vigil’s hologram flickered for several seconds before answering, its tone almost unsure of the answer it was giving. “The Reapers are alien and unknowable. Perhaps they are in need of slaves or resources. More likely, they are driven by motives and goals no organic can ever hope to comprehend.” It paused again, only for an instant. “In the end, what does it matter? Your survival depends on stopping them, not in understanding them.”

“I suppose it doesn’t.” Alexis looked to her companions, each of them shrugging. Understanding the Reapers was not something they exactly had time for. She turned back to Vigil. “You said you brought me to you for a reason. Tell me what I need to do.”

Vigil’s hologram came a little closer to Alexis, urgency obvious in the way it was trying to ensure she got every word. “The Conduit is the key. Before the Reapers destroyed us, we Protheans were on the cusp of unlocking the secrets behind the Mass Relay technology. Ilos was a top-secret facility. Here, researchers worked to create a small-scale version of a Mass Relay. One that linked directly to the Citadel: the hub of the Relay network.”

Tali understood before the rest of them, voicing it before the squad had a chance. “The Conduit was never a weapon. It’s a backdoor onto the Citadel itself.”

Alexis nodded, turning back to Vigil. “Okay, but surely the Reapers realized what you were doing? How did you manage to stay hidden for long enough?”

“All official records of our project were destroyed in the initial attack on the Citadel. While the Prothean empire came crashing down, Ilos was spared the horrors of the Reapers. We severed all communication with the outside and our facility went dark. The personnel retreated underground into these archives.” Vigil paused once again, its tone becoming almost saddened. “To conserve resources, everyone was put into cryogenic stasis. I was programmed to monitor the facility and wake the staff when the danger had passed. But the genocide of an entire species is a long, slow process. Years passed. Decades, centuries. The Reapers persisted. And my energy reserves were dwindling.”

Alexis was fairly certain she already knew the answer before she asked her next question. “How have you remained active after all this time?”

“I began to disable the life support of non-essential personnel. First support staff, then security. One by one, their pods were shut down to conserve energy. Eventually, only the stasis pods of the top scientists remained active. Even those were in danger of failing when the Reapers finally retreated back through the Citadel relay.”

“You killed them all…” She’d been proven right. She could see the cold logic behind the decision, but that didn’t make it any less horrifying. “You said the top scientists’ pods were still active? What happened?”

“This outcome was not completely unforeseen. There were contingencies in my programming should it occur. My actions are a result of those.”

Garrus scoffed. “And I’m betting they didn’t tell any of the ‘non-essential’ staff about those contingencies.”

Vigil seemed almost annoyed at the Turian’s assertion. “I saved key personnel. When the Reapers retreated, the top scientists were still alive. My actions are the only reason any hope remains for your cycle. When they awoke, they realized the Prothean species was doomed. There were only a dozen individuals left, far too few to sustain a viable population. Yet they vowed to find some way to stop the Reapers from returning once more. A way to break the cycle forever. And they knew the Keepers were the key.”

“The Keepers? If the Citadel was built by the Reapers, surely the Keepers would be under their control as well.”

“In a way. The Keepers are controlled by the Citadel. Before each invasion, a signal is sent through the station compelling the Keepers to activate the Citadel relay. After decades of feverish study, the scientists discovered a way to alter the signal. Using the Conduit, they gained access to the Citadel and made the modifications. This time, when Sovereign sent the signal to the Citadel, the Keepers ignored it. The Reapers are trapped in Dark Space.”

“And Saren is planning to undo what the Protheans did. Bring the Reapers through without the Keepers.”

“The one you call Saren will use the Conduit to bypass the Citadel’s defences. Once inside, he will transfer control of the station to Sovereign. Sovereign will override the Citadel’s controls and manually open the relay to Dark Space. And the cycle of extinction will begin again.”

Alexis rubs the back of her neck, along the seal on the suit. All this new information was sounding worse by the second. With his head start, it was entirely possible Saren could have already succeeded, and Sovereign had let the Reapers trapped in the space between galaxies through to destroy their civilization. But she still had to try to stop him. “Can you help us in any way? Surely you brought us down here for more than just to tell us we were doomed to fail from the start?”

“Yes. There’s a data file on my console. Take a copy when you go. When you reach the Citadel’s master control unit, upload it to the station.”

Alexis marched forward to take the data, Garrus questioning the VI. “Where is the Citadel’s master control unit? Even with my time at C-Sec, I never heard of anything like that.”

“Through the Conduit. Follow Saren. He will lead you to your destination.”

Alexis stood back to her feet, making her way away from Vigil. “I’ve got the file. Let’s go.”

Vigil gave one last statement, “The one you call Saren has not yet reached the Conduit. There is still hope if you hurry.”

With its last words, the VI abruptly shut down, plunging the room into darkness once more. Alexis took a second to look around before starting back up the path towards the elevator. “Let’s just hope the Mako is fast enough.”

They all loaded into the elevator, the machine rumbling to life and taking them back towards the tunnel with their tank. Tali tried to lighten the mood, “With your driving, we’ll probably beat Saren there. Or crash.”

Wrex let out a booming laugh, “I’d take either. At least it’ll be interesting.”

Alexis smirked under her helmet, the tension among the squad easing slightly. “Just hold on tight. We’re going to make it, one way or another.”

The elevator continued its journey upwards, the hum of machinery mixing with the anticipation shared between them. It wasn't over yet, and they all knew the hardest part was still ahead. But together, they were ready for whatever awaited them at the end of that tunnel.

When the elevator finally opened, they sprinted towards the Mako, ready to push forward, each of them determined to catch Saren and end this once and for all.

“Buckle up,” Alexis muttered as she started the engine. “We’ve got a galaxy to save.”

The Mako roared to life, and they surged forward into the darkness, a small glimmer of hope propelling them toward the fight that would determine the fate of them all.

Alexis rolls her eyes as the elevator doors open, leading the way back to the Mako. She looks down the tunnel as they emerge, relieved to see the energy shield has disappeared. Vigil’s shutdown must have cut whatever meagre power remained to sustain it. As they make their way into the tunnel, the wall promptly seals behind them, the entrance to the elevator disappearing seamlessly into the structure. Alexis doesn’t have time to ponder where the power comes from, racing the last few steps to the Mako and climbing into the driver’s seat. The rest of the squad piles in shortly after, and Alexis floors it the instant the door closes.

The Mako roars down the tunnel, Alexis keeping to her word and driving with more caution than usual, though still at a breakneck speed. The vehicle hurtles into the darkness, the headlights the only source of illumination in the pitch-black tunnel. Far ahead, Alexis catches a glimpse of sunlight, a beacon drawing them toward their goal.

Just as the light comes into view, a rocket shoots out from the shadows. Alexis swerves hard, narrowly missing the tunnel wall. The missile streaks past them, detonating against the metal surface and lighting up the tunnel with a brief but brilliant flash. Alexis doesn’t waste a second, retaliating by firing the Mako’s main gun into the shadows where she thinks the attack has come from. The shell explodes, but the real target is elsewhere.

A salvo of smaller machine gun rounds traces the darkness as the Mako barrels ahead, shaking the tunnel with its roar. Alexis fires the main cannon again, obliterating a group of Geth that have revealed themselves in the light of the explosion. She drives over the fallen machines, the Mako’s wheels crushing the remnants.

The patch of sunlight looms larger until, suddenly, it breaks over them. The tunnel opens into a vast canyon, the transition to open air catching Alexis off guard. She swerves, the Mako tilting onto three of its six wheels as she fights for control, bringing them directly into a hail of Geth gunfire. Warning lights flash on the control panel as the Mako’s shields are pounded by the barrage.

“I think I’m gonna throw up...” Tali groans from the passenger seat, her visor barely hiding the queasiness in her voice.

“Try and hold it!” Alexis calls, not wanting to imagine the mess that would result from Tali vomiting inside her own enviro-suit, she is lucky she hasn't done it since before she became a teenager.

Alexis’s resolution to drive carefully evaporates almost immediately. She swerves back and forth, dodging rockets and gunfire while trying to keep the Mako’s weapons trained on the enemy. The Geth struggle to keep up with her erratic movements, their shots carving into the canyon walls instead of the Mako’s armoured hull.

Finally within striking distance, Alexis floors it directly at the Geth, crushing several under the Mako’s massive wheels. As they speed past, she glances at the rear monitor and sees something that makes her blood run cold—a rocket trooper she missed is lining up a shot, and there’s no time to dodge. She can’t even divert power to reinforce the rear shields.

Before Alexis can react, the ground gives way beneath them. She’s so focused on the missile that she hasn’t noticed the cliff until they’re already plunging over the edge. Gravity takes hold, the Mako’s nose tipping downward. The rocket whizzes by, just barely missing them.

“Tali!” Alexis shouts, her hands gripping the controls, but it’s Tali who reacts first. Her fingers fly over the console, diverting power to the Mako’s thrusters in an attempt to slow their descent. The horizon spins wildly as the Mako falls, the restraints barely keeping the occupants in their seats.

Tali does her best to ignore her stomach’s attempts to empty itself, her focus entirely on levelling the Mako. She angles the thrusters with precision, forcing the nose up and gradually shifting the vehicle’s angle. Alexis joins in, switching the rear thrusters to maximum in a last-ditch effort to right them.

With only meters to spare, Alexis slams her foot down, engaging the forward thrusters at full power. The Mako hits the ground with a bone-jarring thud, skidding across several feet of water before levelling out. The landing is rough, but it’s controlled—and most importantly, the tank is still in one piece.

“We’re alive,” Alexis mutters, her heart pounding in her chest. She gives the Mako everything it has, accelerating through the shallow water while still dodging Geth rockets streaking in from up ahead.

“You okay, Tali?” Alexis asks, her eyes not leaving the battlefield but genuine concern in her voice; she knows Tali is physically fine from the readout in her HUD, but asking reassures Alexis as well.

“I’ll… manage,” Tali replies, her voice still shaky. “I’ll handle the weapons. You focus on driving.” She knows that keeping herself occupied will help her regain control—anything to take her mind off her rolling stomach.

Alexis nods, turning her full attention to manoeuvring. With Tali on weapons, the ride immediately becomes smoother. Alexis weaves through enemy fire, her focus razor-sharp, while Tali unleashes a relentless barrage on the Geth, taking out targets before they can even line up a shot. She seems to revel in every synthetic she destroys.

The canyon begins to narrow, the path sloping downward once more. Alexis feels something—a pull at the edge of her consciousness. It feels like the disorienting hum of a Mass Relay, but far stronger, enough to make her grit her teeth. She glances forward and sees it.

A Mass Relay—or something like it. Far smaller than the ones scattered across the galaxy, but unmistakably similar, its core glowing a deep, erratic blue.

“The Conduit…” Alexis breathes, her eyes wide.

Garrus leans forward from the back, his mandibles twitching with unease. “We don’t exactly have time for a sightseeing tour, Alexis. It looks unstable. Who knows how long it’s going to stay active?”

Alexis peers closer, seeing the Turian is right. The Conduit’s core pulses erratically, its energy surging and flickering in unpredictable waves. It could collapse any moment. “You’re right,” she says, her tone firm. She punches the accelerator, the Mako surging toward their goal.

“Shepard, come in! Shepard!” Joker’s voice crackles over the comm.

Alexis frowns. “Joker, I swear, if you disobeyed-”

Joker interrupts, “Relax, Alexis, I’m with Admiral Hackett’s fleet. We just got word—Sovereign has dropped out of the Relay right next to the Citadel. And it’s not alone—it brought an entire fleet of Geth.”

“Shit.” Alexis’s mind races, considering their options. “Has the Citadel fleet engaged?”

“We don’t know yet,” Joker says, his voice tense. “But even if they do, who knows how long they’ll last against the Geth? Not to mention Sovereign itself.”

Alexis tightens her grip on the controls. “I’ll be on the Citadel in five minutes.”

“Wait, what? How?”

Alexis grins, her determination blazing. “We found the Conduit. The Protheans built a Mass Relay that links directly to the Citadel. That was their final ‘screw you’ to the Reapers. Tell Admiral Hackett to hold the fleet back. We’re going to need every ship against Sovereign, but it’ll be pointless unless we stop Saren from opening the Citadel Relay.”

“The… what…!?” Joker stammers, but Alexis cuts him off.

“I’ll explain later. Just hold back.”

“Yes, ma’am. Joker out.”

Alexis pushes the Mako to its limits, narrowly avoiding another incoming rocket. Her heart drops as she sees their next obstacle—at least ten Geth Colossi stand between them and the Conduit, all charging up their cannons.

“Who’s ready to go through a Mass Relay in a vehicle that’s wholly un-designed for it, while trying to dodge Colossus fire?” Alexis calls back, her voice edged with adrenaline.

Wrex laughs, his gravelly voice filled with excitement. “Can’t say I’ve ever done that before. I’m game.”

Garrus doesn’t share Wrex’s levity, his tone grim. “This could either tear us apart or work. And we’re fresh out of choices.”

Tali is a blur of motion, her hands dancing across the controls and her omni-tool, working frantically to adjust the Mako’s element zero core. A holographic display spins above her arm, showing the tank’s energy reserves. “The Mako’s definitely not built for this,” she says, letting out a half-laugh, half-sigh, “but ready if you are.”

Alexis grins, her eyes on the Conduit. “Good. Let’s go save the galaxy.”

The Mako hurtles forward, its path winding as Alexis dodges Colossus's fire. The ground explodes around them, columns of dirt and water rising into the air as the Geth barrage pounds the landscape. Alexis’s focus is unshakable, her eyes never leaving the Conduit—their only hope.

The Mako’s control panel blares warnings as a Colossus blast grazes their shields, the impact jarring the vehicle. Alexis grits her teeth, forcing the Mako straight and steady. They are almost there.

“Everyone brace!” Alexis shouts. “And here… we… go!”

The Mako surges onto the ramp, Alexis lines it up perfectly with the Conduit. The vehicle shudders as the Mass Effect field took hold, and suddenly they are weightless, pulled into the core. The occupants of the Mako feel their bodies twist in ways they were not meant to, as if their atoms were being pulled apart and put back together all at once.

The element zero core within the Mako shines bright, enveloping the vehicle in an eerie blue glow. Alexis clenches her jaw, it feels as though her head is being torn apart, a blinding light consuming her vision.

Then, with a final, blinding flash, the Mako is launched through the Conduit, hurtling across the galaxy toward the Citadel, toward Saren, and toward Sovereign.

Chapter 14: XIV

Summary:

Battle on the Citadel, confrontation with Saren.

Notes:

We are finally here at the big fight!

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XIV

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Geth troopers mill about the elevator to the Council Chambers, their optics flickering in rhythmic pulses. Saren had disappeared into it a little under half an hour ago, ordering them to guard the entrance. He had a gnawing suspicion that the forces he left on Ilos would be unable to stop Alexis and her squad from getting through, no matter the firepower they brought to bear against the Human and her crewmates.

The model Mass Relay vibrates ever so slightly, drawing the attention of the Geth troopers. They slowly approach the monument, their sensors picking up the minute energy spikes emanating from it. They all had arrived through the Conduit themselves, but it had turned dormant the moment they passed through. Now, another vibration runs through the model, and the troopers' optics brighten, their weapons rising in synchrony. The rings at the center begin to spin again, glowing blue, picking up speed.

Without warning, a massive shape erupts from the Relay, crashing into the gathered Geth with a force that shatters them to pieces. The massive vehicle rolls, crushing those unlucky enough to be in its path, before slamming against a wall and finally coming to rest at a precarious angle. A few Geth troopers remain, approaching the wreckage cautiously, scanning for movement, weapons poised.

Inside the Mako, Alexis groans, the disorienting pull of the Mass Relay still gnawing at her senses. She clutches at the sides of her helmet, her head pounding as if it were being torn apart. She hangs upside down in her seat, held in place by the reinforced restraints of the Mako. The world is a muffled, ringing blur, a dull echo of noises filtering through her disoriented mind. Her biotic amp feels like it exploded inside her skull, the pressure and pain almost unbearable.

“Alexis...” A voice calls her name, muffled, almost like it’s underwater. “Alexis...” Louder this time. “ALEXIS!”

The shout snaps Alexis into focus. She blinks hard, trying to clear her vision. Tali’s face is in front of her, upside down from Alexis’ perspective, her visor tilted, concern evident in her tone. “We’ve got to move.”

“Yeah… yeah, right.” Alexis unbuckles her harness, her body dropping unceremoniously onto the roof of the Mako. “Ow,” she mutters, the landing jarring her aching body.

The Mako lies at a harsh angle, its roof slanted and the interior a mess of supplies and equipment. Alexis braces herself against the sloping surface, maneuvering her feet toward the door above her. She plants her boots firmly, thrusting forward to kick at the door. It doesn’t budge, the metal groaning in protest.

Alexis takes a deep breath. She kicks again, the door tears free from the Mako. She climbs out, scrambling to her feet, her balance shaky as her boots hit solid ground. Blaster fire hisses through the air almost immediately, forcing Alexis to duck behind the Mako for cover.

Tali is right behind her, shotgun in hand. She drops down beside Alexis, concern in her voice, “Alexis, you okay?”

Alexis nods, though her expression says otherwise. “Feels like my head’s gonna split in two, but I’m good enough.” She tries to smile through the pain. “Remind me never to go through a Mass Relay like that again.”

Tali shakes her head, “I don’t think there’s another Mass Relay like that anywhere in the galaxy.”

“Thank the ancestors for that,” Alexis mutters. She draws her pistol, taking a steadying breath. “Alright, let’s finish this.”

Alexis rounds the corner of the Mako, her pistol raised, and fires off two precise shots, taking out the last two Geth before Garrus or Wrex can get a bead on them. The air is filled with the blaring of Citadel alarms, a chaotic backdrop to the battle they’ve just survived. Alexis takes in her surroundings—they’re in the Presidium, and from the sounds of it, the Citadel’s emergency measures are still in place. Good. That means Saren hasn’t succeeded yet.

“Critical failure has been detected across all monitored systems. Please begin emergency evacuation procedures. This is not a drill.” The mechanical voice echoes through the Presidium, and Alexis’ gaze snaps to the source—a glitching projection of Avina, the Citadel VI. The hologram flickers, struggling to maintain stability.

Alexis approaches, her steps quick and purposeful. “Avina,” she calls, her tone urgent. “Give me a rundown of the damage.”

Avina’s holographic form shudders, her voice stuttering. “We—have lost all primary power—to the level. Environmental controls are—not responding. Class three—fires are—burning in sectors two, three, six, and seven. Civilian—casualties are high.”

“Damn it,” Alexis hisses under her breath. She’d hoped the emergency systems would keep casualties low, but the situation is worse than she feared. She pushes down the surge of fear for her mother, focusing on the mission.

“I am also detecting—numerous unauthorised synthetic life-forms throughout the station,” Avina continues, her projection flickering with each word. “They are believed to be—hostile. Please exercise—caution.”

Alexis’ jaw clenches. “Where’s Saren?”

“Former Spectre Agent Saren Arterius is—nearing the Council Chambers. A warrant is currently—outstanding for his arrest, but—Citadel Security is—unable to respond.”

“The Council Chambers,” Alexis repeats, her eyes narrowing. “He’s making his move for the master control unit.” She spins on her heel, heading straight for the elevator that leads up to the Chambers. “The Council probably evacuated already, rolled out a red carpet for him to waltz right in!”

The elevator doors open, and Alexis punches the controls as the squad piles in. The car begins its ascent, but it feels agonizingly slow. Alexis taps her foot, her impatience palpable. “Any way to make this thing go faster, Tali?”

Tali kneels by the control panel, prying off a section just beneath the main console. “Maybe. The Presidium elevators are designed to prevent tampering, but I’ll see what I can do.” She begins working, her fingers deftly manipulating wires and bypassing circuits.

Minutes crawl by, tension mounting as the elevator ascends. Suddenly, a deep rumble reverberates through the entire station, the walls vibrating with the force of it. Alexis moves to the edge of the elevator, craning her neck to see above them. Her heart drops at what she sees—a shadowy form looming over the tower, its massive appendages anchoring it in place.

Sovereign.

The Reaper grips the Presidium Tower like a predator clutching its prey, its red eye glowing with malevolent purpose. Alexis feels her pulse quicken, her eyes narrowing with determination. They’re running out of time—they have to stop Saren, and they have to do it now.

“Sovereign is here.” Alexis breathes, her eyes wide with shock. Garrus and Wrex join her at the edge of the elevator, both muttering curses under their breath as they take in the sight. Sovereign’s massive form grips the top of the Presidium tower, its appendages digging into the structure like a monstrous spider.

“Any progress, Tali?” Alexis barks, her urgency palpable.

“Almost…” Tali mutters, her fingers dancing over the panel's internal wiring, her visor reflecting the faint flicker of electricity. A spark, and then a satisfying click. “And there.”

The elevator abruptly speeds up, jerking them upward at an alarming rate. All four stumble, grabbing hold of the railing or each other for support. Even Tali, kneeling in the corner, nearly loses her balance. The floors now flash by in a blur, each one passing in a second rather than five.

Alexis narrows her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. “You knew you could do that, didn’t you?”

Tali's tone is dripping with faux innocence, though the grin behind her visor is evident. “Not like I’ve practised rewiring or hacking Citadel systems.”

“Uh-huh. Remind me not to get on your bad side, Tali,” Alexis chuckles, her eyes still focused upward. “I like my stuff unhacked.”

“No promises,” Tali replies with a playful lilt. “And who says I haven’t already?”

Before Alexis can retort, the elevator jerks violently, coming to an unexpected and screeching halt. All four of them slam into the roof before crashing back down onto the floor. Alexis grunts in pain, her armour cushioning the worst of it, but it’s still enough to make her wince as she pulls herself upright.

“What the hell was that?” she groans, rubbing the back of her head.

Tali struggles back to her feet, her gloved hand cradling the side of her helmet. “I don’t know.” She quickly moves to the control panel, her fingers deftly working at the wires, only to pause in frustration. “I’m locked out. Saren must have shut down all the elevators. With access to the master control unit, there’s no way I can override it now.”

Alexis’s eyes narrow as she thinks through their options. None of them are good. But there’s one that might work. “Looks like we’re going with Plan B.” She turns to the squad, her face set with grim determination, drawing her shotgun. “We’re going for a little walk. Suit up.”

Once they’re all ready, Alexis points the shotgun at the elevator’s glass wall and fires. The pellets shred the reinforced glass, sending fragments spinning out into the void of space. Slowly, the shards drift back toward the Presidium tower. Alexis kicks the rest of the glass away, creating enough space for them to exit. She steps through the hole and engages her mag-boots, the magnets activating with a solid clunk that reverberates through her boots.

The feeling of reorienting herself hits her immediately, a sensation she is used to from the number of ships she spent time on as a child that didn't have artificial gravity in sections or at all. The floor is now the side of the tower, and the Citadel itself stretches endlessly above her like a sheer cliff face. She turns her head to make sure the squad is following, watching as Tali, Garrus, and Wrex step through, their forms outlined by the distant glow of explosions and battle overhead. Each of them nods at her, and Alexis turns forward again, her eyes focused on Sovereign, the Reaper’s towering silhouette a grim reminder of what’s at stake.

The airspace above is filled with wreckage—destroyed fighters, broken pieces of the Citadel’s infrastructure, and worse. Pieces of Alliance and Turian vessels drift aimlessly, the remnants of a fleet caught by surprise. It’s a grim sight, and as Alexis stares at the carnage, she realizes the full scope of their situation.

The Citadel’s arms are closed. Trapped. No reinforcements, no backup. The ships that are here are sealed inside, and the ones that could help are locked out. Whatever they have now is all they’re going to get. The realization hits her like a punch to the gut, but Alexis pushes it aside. There’s no time to worry about what might have been. The only option now is to keep moving.

A Geth dropship swoops overhead, the low hum of its thrusters barely audible even through her helmet. It vanishes from sight, likely offloading troops nearby. Alexis clenches her jaw. Saren knows they’re here. He knows they’re coming, and he’s going to throw everything he has at them to keep them from reaching him.

“Any idea how far to the top?” Alexis asks, her voice tight.

Tali doesn’t hesitate, her eyes glancing at the data scrolling across her visor. “Two hundred floors, give or take. Roughly four to five hundred meters. But it’s not going to be easy.”

“Nothing ever is,” Alexis says, a grim smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s move.”

She takes off, her pace steady but relentless. The others follow, mag-boots clanking against the metallic surface as they move. Explosions ripple through the sky above, the light from the blasts casting harsh shadows across the tower’s outer wall. Alexis leads them along a narrow path, sheer metal walls rising on either side. In another situation, it might have felt like a canyon—but here, it’s just another obstacle to overcome. Standard Alliance armour doesn’t come with propulsion systems, and without that kind of tech, they’re stuck running along the exterior of the Citadel, hoping against hope they reach the top in time.

A sudden explosion ahead forces them to a halt. Glass and debris erupt from an elevator shaft, the shards scattering through the zero-gravity environment like lethal confetti. From the smoke and chaos, Geth emerge, their red eyes glowing through the dust. They open fire immediately, forcing the squad into cover.

Alexis peeks over the low barrier they’re crouched behind, her HUD tagging the Geth troopers as they advance. There aren’t as many as she feared, but they’re enough to slow them down. Enough to delay them. And right now, that’s just as deadly.

She makes her decision in a split second. Without warning, Alexis strengthens her shield and leaps over the cover. Tali’s head snaps toward her, visor lighting up as it detects the surge in energy, but Alexis is already moving. She weaves between the Geth’s gunfire, using the lower gravity to her advantage as she bounds across the narrow walls.

A wall run carries her above the Geth troopers, her shotgun spitting death into their ranks as she moves. She kicks off the wall, landing behind one of the synthetics and grabbing it by the arm. With a snarl, she wrenches its weapon away and smashes it into its chassis. She fires a burst into its chest, using the smoking hole she creates as an impromptu turret, her shots punching through the Geth in front of her.

The rest of the squad stays low, letting Alexis do her work, her rounds flying just inches above their heads as she clears a path. The moment her rifle begins to overheat, Alexis tosses both the Geth and the weapon aside. She lunges forward, closing the distance to the next trooper, her hand shooting out and grabbing its head. She hurls it into another Geth, the force of the impact sending them both careening into the wall.

Wrex suddenly drops down from above, his boots crushing a Geth beneath his considerable weight. With a roar, he grabs another by the arms and tears it in half, its components scattering into the void. Alexis hadn’t even realized he’d leaped up, and she marvels for a moment at his strength.

Wrex doesn’t say a word. He simply wrenches Alexis’s rifle free from the Geth she’d discarded, tossing it to her with a nod before readying his own shotgun. The message is clear: they’re not done yet.

“Let’s keep moving,” Alexis says, her voice hard as steel. She turns back toward their goal, Sovereign’s form looming ever larger in the distance. She grips her rifle tighter, feeling the determination well up within her.

They come to the end of the short corridor they’ve been in, rounding a corner and hurrying along the next, searching for a way to continue in the correct direction. Wrex jogs ahead, the squad following behind, the Krogan abruptly stopping and holding up his fist to halt everyone else as well. He slowly steps towards a corner that would return them to the right orientation. Alexis continues creeping forward, trying to see why he’d stopped them in the first place.

Without warning, Wrex reaches around the corner with all the speed he can muster, grabbing something on the other side before wrenching it backwards and tossing it into a nearby wall. The Geth trooper crumples against the far wall, Wrex already spinning around the corner and breaking into a full sprint toward the waiting patrol of synthetics.

Alexis fires a quick, deadly-accurate burst from her rifle into the Geth on the ground before making to join the firefight with Wrex. The moment she rounds the corner, she quickly realizes her help will be completely unnecessary.

Wrex’s attack and brazen disregard for his own safety baffle the Geth, leaving them unable to defend against such aggressive and downright suicidal tactics. The Krogan rushes forward with his arms outstretched, his thick limbs slamming into the synthetics and dragging them with him in his charge. Having rounded up four within his arm-span, he closes them around his chest, linking his arms together, almost as if he’s hugging the enemy. Contrary to what it might have looked like, Wrex crushes all of their armor within his grip, deactivating them all with his raw strength alone. Only a single Geth remains, and Wrex blasts it apart with a quick shotgun blast before he even releases the other four from his arms.

“A deadly hug… huh…” Alexis ponders over this tactic as she runs ahead, “Gotta say, that’s a new one.”

Wrex chuckles, “I wouldn’t suggest trying it on anything but Geth. Doing it to an organic gets… messy.”

Several gruesome images flash through Alexis's mind, imagining the sheer gore that would result from what Wrex is describing, especially if the same effect could be achieved with an organic enemy. “That’s an image I could do without.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you as squeamish, Shepard. Not gonna lie, kinda disappointed.” The mirth in Wrex’s voice belies the disappointment his words suggest.

Alexis rolls her eyes, knowing Wrex won’t see her reaction from where he is moving behind her.

The squad rushes closer to their goal, shooting Geth down the second they see them. They move as fast as possible, relying on instinct to take down the synthetics, their motions practiced and precise.

They take several corners, trying to find a straight path towards the top of the tower instead of the staggered, zigzagging route they’ve been forced to take. Wasting time here would ultimately lead to their complete and utter annihilation by the Reapers, and Alexis’s frustration grows with each twist and turn of the outer reaches of the Presidium tower. Finally, a ramp at the end of their current path offers hope.

Alexis grins to herself, charging ahead of the others, ready to finally make progress toward their goal. Just as she crests the top of the ramp, her smile instantly falls. She barely has time to react, her incredibly quick reflexes the only thing that saves her.

The anti-air cannon’s projectile slams into the ground where Alexis was just standing as she dives backward, her shield boosted with all the power she can muster. The impact sends her flying back down the ramp, crashing into the wall with enough force to dent it by at least a foot. She collapses to the ground, clutching her chest and gasping for breath.

“ALEXIS!” Tali’s voice nearly deafens the others over their shared radio channel. The Quarian sprints to Alexis’s groaning form, rolling her onto her back, her hands running across Alexis’s armor while reading the readout in her visor for any suit breaches or injuries.

Alexis coughs, her voice strained. “Well… that fucking hurt.” She lets out a pained laugh, groaning at the way it makes her chest throb. “That’ll teach me to look where I’m going.” She stumbles back to her feet, Tali hovering close by, still concerned, while Alexis collects her rifle from where it had fallen nearby. “Let’s get up there slowly. Don’t need to be shot again.”

Tali and Garrus exchange glances, the Turian shrugging. They’re both amazed at how quickly Alexis shrugs off a blast that would’ve killed most people, but then again, from all they’ve seen of her, maybe they shouldn’t be surprised at all.

Wrex follows Alexis immediately, not even remotely shocked that she stopped the cannon’s projectile from causing any real damage.

This time, Alexis is far more cautious, inching up the ramp slowly and peeking over the top. They’ve come to a wide-open section of the tower, but it’s guarded by an anti-air cannon and Geth emplacements, making any advance a hazardous endeavor. Saren’s control of the Citadel evidently extends to its defenses. This was going to make their job considerably more difficult. She ducks her head back down, strategizing a path that would keep them out of the cannon’s line of sight as much as possible. The Geth wouldn’t be particularly hard to deal with—each group only had about ten platforms. The anti-air cannon, however, was another story.

After a moment of consideration, Alexis takes another look, visualizing the best route to avoid as much fire as possible. “Stick close to me. Take it from me, getting shot by an anti-air cannon is not as fun as it looks.” She checks her rifle one last time, mentally preparing for what’s ahead. “GO!”

The squad bursts from cover, sprinting across the open ground toward the first of several Geth clusters. The anti-air gun fires, the round missing by a hair and sending an explosion of heat and shrapnel behind them. They don’t stop, though, diving into the first Geth encampment.

The butt of Alexis’s rifle connects with the nearest Geth trooper’s weapon, knocking it aside, before she spins and fires a burst into its head, the rounds punching through its metal plating with ease.

Wrex leaps past her, landing directly on a Geth, the force of his impact crushing it beneath him. He follows up by using his massive foot to slide the synthetic’s body across the floor, knocking over several others, their bodies clattering against the metal surface.

Garrus drops down with more grace, firing his sniper rifle at point-blank range, sending another Geth flying with the sheer force of the shot. The head of the synthetic shatters into pieces, wires and sparks bursting from the impact.

Tali, meanwhile, takes a different approach, dropping in behind the remaining Geth. She blasts one in the back with her shotgun, then slams her palm into another, overloading its systems before it even has time to react. Sparks fly from its chassis, and it crumples to the ground in a heap of disabled metal.

The team makes short work of the remaining Geth, immediately charging towards the next group. Alexis’s mental map guides their way, the route she’s planned flashing through her mind. They duck into the trenches and dodge every shot the cannon sends their way, the ground trembling with each miss, dust and debris raining down on them.

Alexis stops at the next juncture, holding up a hand to halt the others. “When I give the signal, run like hell toward those Geth,” she says, pointing. This group is further away than the previous ones, with open ground in between that the anti-air cannon could easily target. “Wait for it.”

Without further explanation, Alexis sprints out of cover, but not in the direction she indicated. Instead, she runs towards an entirely different group of Geth, ones positioned in such a way that the cannon will have a perfect shot at her.

"Go! Now!" The squad reacts instantly, sprinting across the open ground towards the group of Geth Alexis commanded them to attack. The anti-air cannon is completely focused on Alexis, providing a rare opportunity for a clear path to the synthetics that Wrex, Garrus, and Tali capitalize on without hesitation. Wrex leads the charge, his heavy frame moving with surprising speed as he uses his brute force and biotics to propel himself forward. Garrus and Tali fall into position behind him, the Krogan’s massive bulk serving as the perfect shield against incoming fire as they advance.

Wrex’s biotics shimmer around him, amplifying his speed, while his sheer size shields Garrus and Tali from stray shots. The Krogan’s determination is palpable—he’s ready to rip through anything in his way. Tali clutches her shotgun tightly, her other hand glowing with tech energy, while Garrus keeps his sniper rifle at the ready, both of them staying focused as Wrex charges ahead like a battering ram.

As soon as they’re in range, Tali and Garrus peel off to either side, weapons blazing. The moment their sights align, they unleash a torrent of fire. Tali's shotgun blast slams into the first Geth, sending it staggering backward, its shields flaring briefly before collapsing. Without missing a beat, she follows up with an overload, her omni-tool sparking as she releases the tech attack, causing another Geth to convulse and collapse as its systems fry.

Garrus shoves the barrel of his sniper rifle into the chest of a Geth trooper, the discharge point-blank, sending the synthetic flying backwards. He ducks just as another Geth takes a shot at him, its rounds missing his head by inches. Garrus pivots smoothly, dropping to one knee and spinning 180 degrees to fire again, this time hitting his mark directly between the optical sensors, the Geth collapsing in a heap of metal and circuits.

Wrex, meanwhile, barrels through the Geth, unleashing his own kind of mayhem. His biotic-enhanced foot stomps down, creating a shockwave that ripples through the cluster of synthetics, sending them flying. The blue glow of biotic energy crackles around him as he crushes another trooper underfoot, the sound of its metal body crunching beneath his weight reverberating through his suit. Any Geth who dares to stand in his way is swiftly dismantled—sometimes quite literally—by his brute strength, his hands tearing at metal joints and wires like they’re made of paper.

While her team makes quick work of the Geth, Alexis serves as the perfect distraction for the anti-air cannon and the second group of Geth. Her every movement is calculated, her senses heightened, as she becomes a target to draw the fire away from her squad. The Geth register her approach immediately, swivelling their guns towards her, opening fire without mercy. She keeps her body low, zigzagging to make herself a more elusive target, her heart pounding as the whir of bullets cuts through the air around her. She can feel the heat from several rounds that pass dangerously close, narrowly missing her.

The anti-air cannon’s barrel begins to glow, a menacing light as it locks on to her, its targeting system anticipating her next move. Alexis barely has time to register the shot as the cannon fires, and she throws herself to the side, her body twisting in midair to avoid the incoming blast. The ground beneath her erupts, the shockwave sending her tumbling across the ground. Shrapnel clatters against her shields, the blue energy shimmering and flaring as it absorbs the impact. Through her helmet’s dampeners, she can still hear the dull roar of the explosion, her ears ringing as she forces herself back onto her feet.

Her lungs burn as she sprints the last few meters to the cover of a fallen piece of debris. Diving behind it, she takes a moment to catch her breath, her shields flickering as they recharge. She peers over the edge, watching as her team systematically tears through the Geth forces. They move as one—a seamless unit of destruction, the coordination between them something she’s proud of.

The cannon fires again, but its aim is off, the shot going wide and striking the far wall of the tower. Alexis uses the momentary respite to pop up from cover, her rifle aimed at the cannon’s base. She knows she can’t destroy it alone, but she can make sure its attention stays on her. She squeezes the trigger, a series of rapid shots sparking against the cannon’s thick armour.

“Wrex, get up here and take this thing out!” Alexis calls over the comm, her voice urgent but confident.

“On it!” Wrex growls in response. There’s an unmistakable note of anticipation in his voice. The last Geth falls before him, and without missing a beat, the Krogan charges towards Alexis, his shotgun already slung across his back in preparation for what’s to come.

Wrex reaches Alexis, and she nods towards the cannon, her expression determined. “Think you can handle it?”

Wrex grins, his eyes gleaming with that dangerous, predatory confidence that only a Krogan can muster. “Watch me.”

He moves with a speed that seems almost impossible for someone of his size. The anti-air cannon’s sensors lock onto him, the barrel beginning to rotate, but Wrex is already at the base by the time it can complete its movement. He reaches into his pack, pulling out a series of explosive charges and slapping them against the cannon’s supports with practiced efficiency.

“Fire in the hole!” he shouts, diving back towards Alexis’s cover just as the charges detonate. The explosion is deafening, the force of it rattling the very structure of the tower. The cannon shudders, the metal groaning as the base crumples beneath the detonation. Slowly, it collapses, falling in on itself as a plume of smoke and debris rises into the air, the wreckage sparking with dying energy.

Alexis lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her lips curling into a grin. “Nice work, Wrex.”

The Krogan dusts off his armour, a satisfied smirk crossing his features. “Told you I could handle it.”

With the cannon destroyed, Alexis turns her gaze to the path ahead, her expression hardening once more. “Let’s keep moving. Saren’s not going to wait for us.”

The squad regroups, rushing over to Alexis’s position. As they do, Tali’s eyes lock onto her, and Alexis cringes slightly at the look she’s receiving. It’s a mix of anger, fear, and exasperation that only Tali can convey so perfectly.

“One of these days, you’ll get some sort of self-preservation instinct, Alexis,” Garrus quips, his mandibles twitching in amusement. The jab earns a laugh from Alexis herself.

“If I had any, we’d still be stuck back there,” she retorts, her tone light despite the tension in the air.

“That’s fair.” Garrus nods in agreement. He can’t deny the effectiveness of Alexis’s tactics, no matter how suicidal they may seem. Her willingness to put herself on the line is exactly why they’ve made it this far, and why they continue to follow her without hesitation.

Alexis’s expression turns serious once more as she surveys their surroundings. “We’re nearly there. Only a few more groups to deal with, and we’ll be close enough to the Council Chambers to find a way inside. Everyone good?”

“Ready,” Garrus confirms, his rifle reloaded and at the ready.

“All good,” Tali adds, her voice steadier now, though her gaze still carries a hint of worry as it rests on Alexis.

“Ready to rip that Turian’s head off, yes,” Wrex growls, his fingers flexing around the grip of his shotgun.

Alexis isn’t entirely sure whether she’ll have to keep her promise to Wrex about giving him Saren’s head—literally. One thing she knows for sure, though, is that this mission will end with Saren’s death. The Turian is too far gone, his mind twisted and broken by indoctrination. They can’t risk leaving him alive, not after everything he’s done. Still, the idea of decapitating him is not exactly something Alexis had planned. Maybe she’d leave that part to Wrex if he really wanted it. After all, he seemed more than eager to handle it personally.

“Let’s move.”

The squad sets off once more, determination etched into their every movement as they make their way towards the Council Chambers, ready for whatever final confrontation lies ahead.

They all look up as they come closer to Saren, eyes fixed on the gigantic shape of Sovereign. One of the Reaper’s appendages is clamped barely fifty metres away. If it wanted, it could easily move that short distance and crush them all, and there wouldn’t be a thing they could do. Alexis decides it’s time to find a way inside the tower.

Luckily for them, an opportunity soon presents itself. An emergency hatch, likely intended for maintenance or evacuation, is built into the ground a short walk ahead. Alexis approaches slowly, keeping her rifle trained on it, just in case a Geth is waiting on the other side. Garrus moves past her to the other side, nodding at her as he grips the lever that will open it.

Alexis swaps to her shotgun, Wrex and Tali joining her at the edge and aiming straight down into the hatch. With a slight nod, Garrus pulls the lever, opening the hatch. They all take a step forward, aiming down into the darkness the opening reveals.

When nothing comes out to attack, Alexis relaxes slightly, jumping down into the hole. Once they are all inside, she reaches up and closes the hatch, sealing the room from the vacuum. Slowly, the space fills with atmosphere, and the doors to the rest of the Citadel tower open, allowing the squad through.

It only takes Alexis a moment to figure out where they’ve come in. They’re only two floors below the Council Chambers. She almost can’t believe their luck. While she’d been fairly confident they’d be able to stop Saren, there had been a nagging feeling the entire time since arriving on the Citadel that there was a possibility they’d fail—that her inability to kill Saren when she had the chance on Virmire would be the reason for the Reaper invasion's success, and that she would be almost entirely responsible for the mass extinction that would inevitably result. Arriving in time alleviates those fears, not entirely, but enough to make it seem like they have a better-than-average chance of pulling this off and taking down the former Spectre.

They sprint towards the stairwell that leads up to the Council Chambers. Alexis bursts through the final door into the atrium, shocking the Geth standing just on the other side. The Commander doesn’t waste any of her speed, letting her fist fly forward the moment she’s in range, taking the Geth from its feet and sending it crashing into the far wall.

The squad works in perfect sync, gaining more ground by the second and crushing any Geth resistance along the way. Alexis and Wrex lead the way, taking the brunt of the gunfire while still taking out their fair share. Tali comes next, using Wrex as cover and spinning out from behind him every so often to unleash her shotgun, while otherwise staying behind and overloading the Geth’s systems from afar. Garrus brings up the rear, firing his sniper rifle with deadly accuracy. He would prefer to find a position and bunker down, but this will have to do.

Alexis spots the man of the hour up ahead—Saren, hunched over at the end of the walkway where guests of the Council would stand. The railing that normally runs all the way around stops short, with the platform extending further than usual and a console popping out from it. Saren has definitely noticed them; the speed of his movements increases as his hands fly over the console. Alexis can just see from the display what he’s doing—opening the Citadel relay for the Reapers. From what she can tell, they’ve arrived in time, and he hasn’t quite succeeded yet.

Alexis knows any shot she takes now will likely be completely ineffective, as Saren definitely has a barrier up protecting his back. Sure enough, as she looks closer, the slight shimmer in the air around the Turian tells her exactly that.

She decides to ignore Saren for the moment, focusing on the Geth still attacking them. There are only a few left, blocking their path towards their leader. Very soon, only one remains. She leaps forward, her shoulder colliding with its chest, sending it backwards away from her to crash into a wall and fall to the floor in a crumpled heap as she blasts it with her shotgun.

Alexis draws her pistol, taking the steps towards Saren two at a time, the squad close on her heels. She sees Saren finally stand to his full height. The Turian takes a step around the console at the end of the platform and disappears off the edge, plummeting from sight. Alexis holds her weapon aloft, approaching slowly, prepared for an attack.

Suddenly, Saren appears from beneath the platform riding on his floating disc, unleashing sweeping gunfire from the rifle in his hands. The squad dives for cover at the end of the platform, narrowly missing the bullets as they whiz past their heads.

“Ah, Shepard. I was almost afraid you wouldn’t make it in time.” Saren’s voice is patronizing but also annoyed. He had evidently hoped and expected the Geth would be able to stop them or at least buy him enough time to do what he needed to.

Alexis shifts herself closer to the end of the platform. “You know me. Nothing stops me from completing my missions. And I’ve gotten pretty good at killing Geth.”

“Indeed.” Saren pauses, drawing out his next words, “I think we both knew it would end like this. A final confrontation, a climactic battle.” He lets out a short laugh. “You’ve lost. You know that, right? In a few minutes, Sovereign will have full control of this station and all its systems. The relay will open. The Reapers will return once more.”

“Not if I can help it. I’ll stop you, whatever it takes.”

Saren sighs. “I’ll admit, when I encountered you on Virmire, you almost won. I expect you could have killed me if you’d been so inclined.” Alexis swallows, her fear of that inability to act returning to the forefront of her mind. “But I’ve changed since then. Improved. Sovereign has… upgraded me.”

Alexis can’t believe what she’s hearing. “You let Sovereign implant you? Are you insane?”

“From your perspective, I’m sure I must be.” Alexis’s forehead creases with confusion at Saren’s tone. Is that doubt in his voice? “I should thank you, Shepard. After Virmire, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. About Sovereign using me, manipulating me, about being indoctrinated. The doubts began to eat away at me. Sovereign sensed my hesitation. I was implanted to strengthen my resolve.” The doubt in his voice is still there; if anything, it’s stronger than before. “Now my doubts are gone. I believe in Sovereign completely! I understand that the Reapers need organics. Join us, and Sovereign will find a place for you too.”

Alexis surges to her feet, aiming her pistol straight at the Turian’s head. Tali attempts to grab her arm to stop her from moving but barely manages to scrape the edges of her armour before Alexis is on her feet. Saren makes no move to raise his weapon in defence. “Are you actually stupid? I’m genuinely curious.”

The Commander finally gets a proper look at the ‘new and improved’ Saren. An unnatural blue glow comes from underneath his skin, his eyes glowing with the same eerie light. His implants run all over his head, further sealing his fate as Sovereign’s pawn. “Excuse me?”

“Sovereign is controlling you through your implants! You’re so far gone you let it install Reaper tech right in your fucking head? You’re nothing but a pawn to the Reapers! When Sovereign has what it wants from you, you’ll be cast aside.”

Saren shakes his head, disbelief etched into his face. “No, no, no… The relationship is symbiotic! Organic and machine intertwined, a union of flesh and steel. The strengths of both, the weaknesses of neither!” The conviction to his master’s cause wars with the doubt, that much is obvious. “I am a vision of the future, Alexis! The evolution of all organic life. This is our destiny. Join Sovereign and experience a true rebirth!”

“Don’t you see, Saren? Sovereign is controlling every single one of your actions! But you can help me! The Reapers haven’t won yet. I can still stop them. All you have to do is step aside. You don’t want to be responsible for trillions of deaths, do you? I can stop the invasion right here and now.”

Saren’s expression twists with pain, his implants glowing brighter. “We can’t stop it! Not forever. You saw the visions. You saw what happened to the Protheans! The Reapers are too powerful.”

“BULLSHIT!” Alexis’s sudden yell shocks Saren slightly, the Turian almost taking a step back. “You have to realize this is wrong! The Reapers won’t spare you, or anyone. You’d be dooming the entire galaxy to extinction for nothing! You can help me stop them now, before it’s too late!”

Something changes in Saren. He begins to nod, almost seeming to agree with Alexis. “Maybe… maybe you’re right. Maybe I can-” He abruptly bends over, both hands clutching at the side of his head as he screams in pain. The implants in his head shine with brilliant light, almost burning the very skin from his skull. “Sovereign… is too… strong… I can’t…” With one last scream, all doubt and pain disappear from his expression. Replaced with utter conviction.

Saren’s rifle comes forward, aiming directly at Alexis, pulling the trigger and unleashing a hail of bullets. Alexis reacts, rolling into cover. “Oh, fuck this.”

Alexis pops up from cover, her sniper rifle in her hand, already aiming while it finishes unfolding. Her finger pulls the trigger, and the high-powered shots from her modified sniper stagger Saren slightly, each shot reverberating with her determination. With the rest of the squad engaging him, Alexis sees her chance. She attaches her sniper rifle back onto her back as she sprints forward, her focus razor-sharp. The weight of Virmire is heavy in her mind—she had let Saren escape once, and she won’t make that mistake again. Not this time.

Saren’s rounds impact her shield or the ground around her, but Alexis pushes forward, her legs pumping with adrenaline-fueled determination. She weaves side to side, evading the incoming fire, every step driving her closer to her target. Each shot that grazes her shields only fuels her resolve—she will not fail again. As she reaches the end of the platform, she doesn’t hesitate—she leaps into the air, soaring up towards the Turian. Saren’s eyes widen slightly as he tries to aim, but Alexis is too fast, the sheer momentum carrying her in an arc above his floating disc.

At the apex of her jump, Alexis reaches out, seizing Saren’s rifle with her left hand and jerking it to the side, her right hand curling into a fist. She slams her fist forward with every ounce of strength she has, feeling the satisfying crunch as her gauntlet connects with Saren’s jaw, snapping his head sideways and knocking him from his feet. She can almost hear the echo of her thoughts screaming, "This is for Virmire."

They both begin to fall, the impact of Alexis's punch sending them off-balance and over the edge of the platform. Alexis refuses to let go—one hand still grips Saren’s rifle, and her other drives forward again, activating her omni-blade to reinforce her gauntlet instead of a straight blade. She plunges it directly into the Turian’s nose, feeling the vibration as it shatters cartilage and bone. Saren's eyes widen in shock, and for a split second, Alexis thinks she sees a flicker of realization or fear in them. It’s the only acknowledgment she’ll ever get that he understands what she’s done.

Gravity pulls them apart. Saren accelerates downward, and Alexis knows she needs to save herself. She releases her hold on the rifle, quickly reaching up with her right hand. Her fingers find the edge of the platform, and she grips it just in time, halting her own descent. The muscles in her arm scream in protest, but she grits her teeth, refusing to let go.

Saren stares at Alexis with wide eyes as they grow further apart. His back impacts the glass beneath him, shattering it instantly. He falls into the garden below, time seeming to slow down from Alexis’s perspective. Directly below him is a large rock feature, artfully placed to evoke some sort of natural imagery, she is sure. What it was not placed there to do, was what it did.

Saren lands directly on a piece of rock that juts out above the rest, the stone erupting from just below the centre of his chest in a spray of blood and gore. The Turian gurgles as blood fills his lungs and begins to slowly run out of his mouth. He clutches at the rock, disbelief etched into his expression. After only a few moments, his body stills, the light of his implants dimming before finally shutting off.

Alexis turns her head away from the Turian’s corpse, looking up at the floating platform above her instead. She reaches up with her other hand, hauling herself on top of it, her arms burning with effort. She pushes herself to her feet, standing there for a moment, catching her breath. The memory of Virmire echoes in her mind—this time, she hadn’t hesitated. This time, she had finished it.

With renewed determination, Alexis leaps back to the walkway she had launched herself from.

Wrex joins her first, looking down at Saren’s prone body. “Pretty anti-climactic if you ask me. And would’ve liked to do the deed myself. But I can’t say it isn’t nice to see Saren like this.” His grin grows as he looks at Alexis and pats her on the shoulder. “Good job.”

Tali approaches next, looking over the edge for barely a second before recoiling. "Okay… wow… I really didn’t need to see that." She clutches at her stomach for a moment and shakes her head, breathing in and out quickly.

Garrus looks down with some interest. “He deserved worse. But as long as he’s dead, that’s the main thing. I doubt even Sovereign or the Reapers could bring him back from that.”

Alexis looks down at Saren like the others. "At least I didn’t fall down too. I don’t particularly relish massive abdominal trauma," she jokes, trying to inject some levity into the moment, only to immediately feel Tali's hand slapping her shoulder.

"Don't even joke about that!" Tali exclaims, her voice laced with a mix of fear and anger. She looks at Alexis in terror, her mind replacing the brief look she had of Saren below them with Alexis in his place. The image is enough to make her feel sick, her hands trembling slightly as she reaches out, her fingers curling around Alexis's arm as if to make sure she’s really still there.

"I'm sorry," Alexis immediately says, her own expression softening. She hadn’t meant to scare Tali, not like this. Seeing the look of distress in Tali's eyes, she pulls her close as they walk over to the Citadel's master control unit, keeping an arm around her, her touch gentle and reassuring. Tali leans into her, trying to steady her breathing as they approach the console

Alexis brings her omni-tool up to connect with it. "All right… this better work." She brings up the file they’d gotten from Vigil, executing the program. The tension hangs in the air for a moment before the display changes, and Alexis lets out a relieved breath. "Oh, thank the ancestors. Vigil’s data file works. I’ve got full control of all systems."

“Open the Citadel’s arms. The fleet might be able to take Sovereign down!” Garrus doesn’t seem entirely confident of his words, but they still need to do something.

“Yes, but that might also lead to their destruction. Joker said he was with Admiral Hackett’s fleet. If we can hold off, that fleet will make the difference. If we don’t wait, Sovereign might destroy both.”

“Open a communications channel.” Tali’s suggestion is far more middle-of-the-road, but a wiser course than Garrus’ knee-jerk reaction.

“Opening now…” Alexis says as she enters the command.

Almost immediately, a distress call filters through their comms. “…the Destiny Ascension. Main drives offline. Kinetic barriers down to 40%. The Council is on board. I repeat, the Council is on board.”

Before Alexis even has a chance to respond, another more familiar voice comes through. “Normandy to the Citadel. Normandy to the Citadel. Please tell me that’s you, Commander.”

“I’m a little offended you thought it might be someone else, Joker.” Alexis can’t help the slight smile on her face at hearing her pilot’s voice.

Joker doesn’t respond to her joke like he normally would, pressing on completely serious. “We caught that distress call, Commander. I’m sitting in the Andura sector with the entire Arcturus fleet. We can save the Ascension. Unlock the relays around the Citadel and we’ll send the cavalry pouring through.”

“This shouldn’t even be a discussion.” Alexis turns at her Turian squad mate’s words. “You have to sacrifice the Council. Hold back the reinforcements until the arms are fully open and the human fleet can destroy Sovereign.” There is doubt on Alexis’s face. “Are you really willing to sacrifice human lives to save the Council? They’ve almost outright opposed you at every turn. Saving them doesn’t help in defeating Sovereign. It’s not the greatest option, but it’s the best one we have at saving the most people.”

Alexis bites her lip, the weight of the decision heavy in her chest. The Council has dismissed her, doubted her at every step—but the Quarian part of her soul reminds her of the importance of unity, the value of every life in the greater whole. Her upbringing emphasizes the survival of the many over the few. Letting the Council die might mean fewer casualties now, but what about the future of the galaxy? What kind of chaos would erupt if the highest governing body was suddenly erased? How would the people cope with the fear and uncertainty? Could she be the cause of that disarray?

“The Council isn’t exactly my favourite either, but letting them die leaves the galaxy without their highest leaders,” Tali says, voicing Alexis’s view on the situation, leaning into Alexis’s side. “But…” Alexis is surprised Tali wants to amend what she’s saying, “Saving their lives will cost more than if we hold off. It makes sense to hold back until the Citadel is open.”

Alexis turns to the grizzled Krogan leaning against the railing a few feet away. “What do you reckon, Wrex?”

The ancient Krogan Battlemaster grins. “Fuck the Council.”

Joker’s voice crackles through their comms. “What’s the order, Commander? Come in now and save the Ascension or hold back?”

Alexis wars with the decision in her head. Garrus is right; the Council has done almost nothing for her in the weeks they’ve been trying to capture and subsequently kill Saren. They have given her the barest minimum info to bring him down and stop Sovereign. Does that mean they deserve to die? And the crew of the Destiny Ascension certainly doesn’t. But Tali and Garrus are also right that it would cost more lives saving the dreadnought than it would save. Wrex’s… colorful summation of the galaxy’s highest governmental figures is not particularly helpful either.

She remembers her mother's voice, teaching her the value of the collective. "The fleet survives together, Alexis. We look after each other, even if we disagree. Even if it feels like a burden. The whole is more important than our pride or our grudges." The lesson echoes through her mind, refusing to be ignored.

She closes her eyes for a brief moment, feeling the weight of the entire galaxy bearing down on her. Every instinct screams at her, torn between her upbringing and the ruthlessness she knows is sometimes necessary in war. She thinks of the children on the Citadel, the innocent lives that would be affected, the chaos that would ensue if the Council fell.

Alexis comes to a decision. While she doesn’t like the Council and agrees with her squad’s points, she can't bring herself to let them die. And the risk of a Council without known Councillors isn't one she is willing to take. “Bring in the fleet, Joker. Advise the Admiral to focus on evacuating the Council if the Destiny Ascension seems lost; we will still need a lot of firepower against Sovereign.” She inputs the command, unlocking the relays and starting the procedure to open the Citadel’s arms.

“Yes, Commander.”

The Commander hopes she's made the right decision. She moves to the edge of the platform and looks down at Saren's body once more. The stone jutting out of his gut is stained with the dark blue of his blood. It's a painful way to die, but not more than Saren deserves. She lingers on this thought, a mix of satisfaction and regret swirling in her chest. She wanted it to end differently, but this is what it came to. Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of shattering glass. She looks to the side, startled, and sees Wrex landing heavily in the garden. He's jumped off the walkway and crashed straight through the glass to get down there.

"What the hell are you doing, Wrex?" Alexis yells down, her voice echoing in the sudden silence.

The Krogan doesn't look up, his gaze locked on Saren's corpse as he strides towards it with purpose. "Claiming my prize," he replies, his voice filled with dark intent.

Alexis feels a flicker of unease. Is he really serious about this? She isn't entirely surprised—Wrex has never been one to make empty threats—but the sight of him, determined and unflinching, heading to claim Saren's head is still enough to make her stomach turn. She debates calling him off, but there's a part of her that wants to see it through, to know that Saren's death is final.

Wrex reaches the body, looming over it with a sneer curling his lips. For a moment, he just stares down at the corpse, his expression hard and unyielding. Then, with a deliberate motion, he pulls a large knife from the sheath strapped to his calf. The blade glints in the dim light, a reflection of Wrex's grim determination. He kneels down, seizing Saren's head with one hand, his grip rough and possessive. He brings the knife close to the Turian's neck, ready to hack away.

Suddenly, the entire room begins to shake. A low rumble builds beneath their feet, reverberating through the structure. Wrex almost loses his balance, instinctively bracing himself. His eyes widen as he feels a tingling sensation around the hand gripping Saren's skull. He barely has time to react as Saren's implants start to glow once more, a bright, malevolent blue. Red electricity crackles over the body, energy arcing wildly. Before Wrex can pull away, Saren's fist rockets upwards, striking Wrex square in the face with enough force to send the Krogan flying backwards, crashing into the glass wall with a sickening thud.

Saren's body writhes unnaturally as the electricity intensifies, the flesh melting away to reveal the glinting metal of a skeletal frame. Blue light pulses from the metal, like veins carrying unholy energy. His talons elongate, fingers sharpening to wicked points. The thing that was Saren stands, its head twitching erratically, red electricity dancing over its frame.

The entire room feels like it's on the verge of collapse, the vibrations shaking the very walls. The walkway Alexis, Tali, and Garrus are standing on groans under the stress and suddenly collapses, sending all three tumbling down into the garden below. They hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from their lungs, barely avoiding the sharp edges of the rock that had impaled Saren just moments before.

Alexis forces herself to her feet, her body protesting with pain. She raises her rifle, her eyes locking onto the abomination Saren has become. The metal skeleton leaps impossibly fast, latching onto the nearest wall with its clawed appendages. "I am Sovereign. And this station... IS MINE!" The voice that comes from it is a twisted echo of Saren's, robotic and devoid of any warmth. Alexis spins, trying to follow its movement, squeezing off a burst of fire. Every shot misses as Saren leaps again, faster than her eyes can track.

The squad regains their footing, weapons at the ready, trying to pin down the resurrected Saren.

Before she can react, a blast hits Alexis square in the back, throwing her forward. Her shields flare, absorbing most of the energy, but the impact leaves her breathless, pain radiating through her body. She scrambles to her feet, whirling to locate the attacker, only for Saren to vanish again before she can fire. Her heart pounds, anger and frustration boiling inside her.

"We need to pin him down!" Alexis shouts, her voice raw with urgency.

"He's," Wrex fires his shotgun, missing Saren by a wide margin, "too fast!"

While the others keep shooting, trying to catch up with Saren's erratic movements, Alexis takes a different approach. She stops firing, her eyes narrowing as she tracks his leaps, watching the path he takes along the walls. Her breath steadies, her focus sharpening. He's only attacking her, ignoring the others. There's a pattern, she realizes—a moment when he hesitates, just before leaping again.

She draws her pistol, her eyes locked on Saren's movement, her visor running predictive calculations, Tali's suit linked with hers and doing the same. They share a silent understanding, and the target reticule in their HUDs aligns.

The instant the prediction locks, Alexis fires. Tali follows, her shotgun roaring as both shots converge. The combined impact knocks Saren out of the air, sending him crashing to the ground in front of Wrex.

Wrex doesn't hesitate. With a roar, he leaps, planting a heavy foot on Saren's chest, pinning him down. He brings his shotgun to bear, pressing it directly against the metal frame and pulling the trigger. The point-blank shot tears Saren's torso apart, the recoil echoing across the garden. The mechanical remains thrash, Saren's head twisting unnaturally as the voice screeches, "YOU WILL ALL PERISH BEFORE ME!"

Wrex strides over, a chilling calm settling over him. "Nah." He reaches down, seizing what's left of Saren's chest with one hand and his head with the other. With a final, brutal twist, he rips the head free, the blue glow fading, the red electricity dying in an instant.

Alexis collapses to one knee, exhaustion catching up with her all at once. She sucks in deep breaths, her body trembling with adrenaline. She lets herself fall back, landing heavily on her butt, her hands braced on her thighs. "I need a drink," she mutters, her voice hoarse.

Garrus steps over, holding out a hand. "You and me both." He hauls Alexis back to her feet, his mandibles twitching in what passes for a grin. "Sovereign really did a number on him."

Wrex holds up Saren's skull, inspecting the metallic structure, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. "At least Sovereign didn't fuck up my trophy. It'll probably last longer now." He glances at Alexis, a broad grin splitting his features. "Looks like we're even, Shepard."

Alexis lets out a sigh, a hint of laughter in her breath. "I wasn't aware I was in debt to you, Wrex, but I'm glad I'm not now." She motions for the squad to follow, leading them back up to the walkway, her eyes drifting to the massive windows overlooking Sovereign. The Reaper looms there, a dark silhouette against the starry backdrop. "I really hope the fleet can take it down," she murmurs, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

As if in response, Sovereign erupts in a storm of red lightning, the arcs of energy crawling across its massive form, just like what had happened to Saren, but on an unimaginable scale. The Reaper's appendages go slack, and to Alexis's amazement, the entire colossal structure begins to drift away from the tower.

Joker's voice crackles through their comms, triumphant, "Its shields are down! Now's our chance!"

Admiral Hackett's voice joins in, commanding, "Hit it with everything we've got."

Sovereign continues to drift, its limbs flailing, the lights across its body flickering and dying. It looks vulnerable now, almost lifeless, as if something has severed its connection to whatever unholy force powered it.

"Hard on my flank! We're going in!" Joker's confidence is infectious, a spark of hope igniting in Alexis's chest. This is it. They are witnessing the end of a Reaper.

The space around Sovereign lights up as ships from all directions open fire. Giant projectiles slam into its hull, tearing through armour as if it were paper. Missiles arc down, exploding across its surface, breaking off massive chunks of its appendages. Alexis watches, heart pounding, as the Normandy itself streaks past the window, a blur of familiar blue and white.

Three more warheads streak towards the Reaper, and for a moment, time seems to slow. The explosions hit, one after the other, each one more powerful than the last. There is a pause, a heartbeat of silence, and then Sovereign detonates, the force of the explosion tearing it apart, pieces of the Reaper hurtling in every direction.

Alexis watches as the fragments of Sovereign scatter, racing away from the epicentre of the explosion. The twisted metal arcs across space, illuminated by the faint lights of the distant stars and the glow of the Citadel. It’s beautiful, in its own way—a reminder of their triumph and what they’ve accomplished against all odds. For a fleeting moment, a smile tugs at her lips.

But then her eyes widen as she notices one of the smaller shards of Sovereign moving towards them at an alarming speed. Its trajectory is unforgiving, and the realization hits her like a blow to the chest.

Straight at them.

"Oh fuck!" Alexis shouts, voice cracking with urgency. She spins on her heel, her heart pounding in her ears. "RUN!" The word tears from her throat like a primal command, and she feels her adrenaline spike as she bolts away from the window.

The others need no encouragement. Wrex, Tali, and Garrus are already turning, their movements quick but their faces stricken with the same raw fear that courses through her. The shriek of shattered glass cuts through the din as the shard crashes into the window, and instantly the atmosphere begins to vent. The pressure differential pulls everything not bolted down into the void—a chaotic suction that seems determined to rip the entire room apart.

Alexis digs her heels into the floor, struggling against the inexorable pull of the vacuum. Each step feels like she’s trying to walk through water, the wind tearing at her suit and forcing her backwards. She sees Tali reach for a nearby console, her hands scrabbling to find something, anything, to hold onto. Garrus throws himself flat against a column, bracing his talons against the floor, while Wrex digs in with raw strength, inch by inch.

The shard of Sovereign does not struggle. It slices through the air, a blade of inevitability that cleaves apart whatever lies in its path, leaving destruction in its wake.

Everything is coming undone. The room shudders, the deafening roar of destruction filling Alexis’s ears, a cacophony of metal groaning and snapping under the immense strain. Debris crashes down around her, the walls buckling as the vacuum rips everything apart. The air is disappearing, taking with it their lifeline.

Alexis barely manages a few more steps before something—she never sees what—hits her side with enough force to knock her breath from her lungs. Pain blossoms across her ribs, and before she can comprehend it, her vision goes dark, the chaos fading into an eerie silence. She feels herself falling, weightless, as everything slips away.

And then there is nothing.

~~~~

Captain Anderson strides into the Council Chambers, dodging around debris that litters the floor. The room looks as though a bomb has gone off in it, which, he supposes, is almost exactly what happened. Trees that once served as ornamentation throughout the room are mostly on fire, their once vibrant leaves now shrivelled and blackened. Alarms blare through the air, a cacophony of warnings that make it hard to think. Emergency lighting casts a crimson hue over everything, shrouding most of the room in darkness and giving it an eerie, hellish look.

The rescue teams charge ahead, their flashlights cutting through the smoke and chaos, searching for any survivors. Anderson picks his way carefully through, dreading what he might find. He knows Commander Shepard and her team were in here when the piece of Sovereign hit. He fears the worst, his heart heavy as he anticipates what he might discover. He knows he isn’t prepared to make the call to Mari'Saalas. He’s only met her a couple of times, and the former Fleet Marine scares him. He doesn’t know how he would handle losing one of the best soldiers he’s ever had the privilege to command, let alone how Mari'Saalas would handle losing her daughter.

“Sir!” One of his men calls out to the Captain, urgency in his voice. “We’ve found them!”

Anderson moves quickly, his heart pounding in his chest. He finds Wrex picking himself up off the ground, brushing off dust from his armour and shaking his head like a bear waking from hibernation. Garrus is helping Tali to her feet, pulling her away from the debris they were almost crushed under. Anderson approaches carefully, laying a hand on each of their shoulders, his eyes scanning them for injuries. “Take it easy, it’s over. You’re safe now.” He swallows hard, the question he’s afraid to ask sitting heavy on his tongue. “Where’s the Commander? Where’s Alexis?”

The Quarian and Turian exchange glances, then turn to look behind them at the largest piece of Sovereign dominating the centre of the room. Anderson follows their gaze, his face falling as he takes in the sight. The massive hunk of twisted metal is a grim monument to the destruction Sovereign wrought. There’s no way anyone could’ve survived being under that. The call he needs to make is going to be the toughest he’s ever had to.

Some distance away, a grunt of pain goes unheard by the onlookers. Alexis braces her right arm against the massive hunk of metal pinning her to the ground. With a Herculean effort, she pushes herself onto her knees, her entire body screaming in protest. She gets one foot under herself, then the other, pushing up with all the strength she has left. Slowly, agonizingly, she lifts the heavy plate off of herself just enough to shimmy out from under it. She lets it drop back down with a heavy crash. Looking down at her body, she notices her left arm hanging limply at her side. She tries to move it, hissing through clenched teeth as pain lances up her arm. Her shoulder is definitely dislocated, and she can feel at least three fractures. But she’s alive. That’s what matters.

The loud crash of metal echoes through the chamber, drawing everyone’s attention. Anderson turns, his eyes widening as he sees Alexis striding through the wreckage towards them, a huge grin on her face. “What? You seriously thought a Reaper could take me down?”

Alexis barely takes a few steps away from the rubble when Tali crashes into her chest, arms wrapping around her tightly. Words rush out of her in Khelish, her voice trembling, “I knew you would be okay, but your suit is reading so much damage… I… Keelah.”

Alexis holds Tali against her, her right arm wrapped around the Quarian’s shoulders, whispering soft reassurances, “I’m okay, or at least nothing Chakwas can’t fix.” She keeps holding onto Tali, feeling the Quarian trembling slightly. She knows Tali is trying to be strong, but the fear is still there. Alexis closes her eyes, resting her helmeted head gently against Tali’s, finding comfort in the embrace herself.

“I should’ve guessed you’d be fine.” Anderson approaches after giving them a moment, his voice carrying a mix of relief and admiration. “Well done, Commander.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Anderson.” Alexis finally lets Tali go, giving her a small, reassuring nod before turning to the Captain.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Anderson cracks a smile, the tension finally breaking. “Sure felt good to punch that smug asshole, though.”

Alexis raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Oh my god… you actually did it? Wish I could’ve been there for that.” She starts walking with Anderson and the rest of her squad, stepping over debris as they head for the exit. “Never thought I’d see the day where Captain Anderson would be anything less than an upstanding member of the Alliance Navy.”

“Yeah, well… when the fate of the galaxy is at stake, maybe the rules do need to be broken.” Anderson’s tone is light, but there’s a hint of something deeper—a recognition of the cost they’ve all paid.

Alexis’s grin grows even wider, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I’m going to remember that.”

“And I’m definitely going to regret saying it.” Anderson lets out a sigh, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. He suddenly stops, his hand moving to his ear as a transmission comes through his comms. “Speak of the devil. Udina wants to see us.”

Alexis groans, her head rolling back. “Oh great… this is going to be a fun conversation.”

Anderson smirks, “Wouldn’t be politics if it was easy, Commander.” He gestures for her to lead the way, his expression turning serious once more.

Alexis and Anderson stride through the Presidium, their footsteps echoing in the spacious corridor. Both are dreading the coming conversation, an unwelcome confrontation in the aftermath of victory. Alexis murmurs under her breath, trying to slip back into the human-sounding accent she has steadily abandoned since boarding the Normandy, especially in the company of Tali. Her words stutter as she struggles to suppress the unique quirks of her Quarian upbringing.

As they round the final corner, they spot Ambassador Udina standing with his back to them, his stiff posture radiating impatience. As they approach, Alexis stifles a laugh—the man turns around, and she’s greeted with a sight far more gratifying than expected. A deep purple bruise spreads across one cheek, and from what she can see, at least two teeth are missing. Alexis flicks a glance at Anderson, raising an eyebrow, frankly impressed that the Captain managed to punch Udina that hard. Anderson catches her look, his lips twitching in what might almost be mistaken for a smile.

Anderson doesn’t bother with pleasantries. His tone is blunt as they close the distance. “We got your message, Ambassador.” The respect in his usual demeanour remains conspicuously absent. “What’s all this about?”

Udina’s scowl deepens, his eyes darting from Anderson to Shepard. He takes a steadying breath, visibly swallowing his irritation. “No need to get worked up, Captain. I’d like to end this meeting with all my teeth in place.” The sneer in his tone is only barely contained.

Anderson’s eyes narrow, and Alexis can feel the tension radiating off him. “You should thank me for what I did!” His voice rises, his words sharp. “If the Normandy was still grounded, we’d all be dead right now!”

Udina raises his hand, silencing the Captain with a condescending wave. “I understand, Captain. You did what you had to do.” His gaze flicks to Shepard, the edge of tension still visible. “That’s not why either of you are here.” He straightens, folding his hands behind his back, his body language shifting into that of a career politician ready for negotiations. “We need to talk about what happened to the Council.”

Anderson launches straight in, his retort almost rehearsed, “Commander Shepard made the right call.”

The Ambassador surprises them both with his response. “I agree.” Udina’s voice softens for just a beat, but Alexis hears the calculated undertone—this is a set-up for something else. “But this also presents us with an opportunity.” He pauses for emphasis, savouring the leverage he’s been handed. “The Council is in our debt, a debt we can use to get a human voice onto the Council itself. With the goodwill generated from the story of how a human saved the Citadel—your story—this is our chance to elevate Humanity. A seat on the Council, Shepard.”

Alexis doesn’t hesitate. Her voice is cold, her words sharp and uncompromising. “Are you serious?” She practically snarls. “You want to use this to push Humanity into power? My crew didn’t fight and bleed just so the Alliance could try to manipulate the Council into submission.” She glares at Udina, her eyes burning with anger. “What do you think the other races will do if you pull something like this? Roll over and just accept being pushed aside?”

Udina seems to have anticipated her reaction. He nods, his expression almost patronizing, as if indulging an emotional outburst. “The other species are scared, Shepard. They’ve never faced anything like this before, and they don’t know what to do. They want us to step forward.” He takes a breath, his next words slow and deliberate. “They believe in us because of you, Shepard. You saved the galaxy from Sovereign. You are the symbol of everything good about Humanity—our courage, our strength.”

Alexis feels her muscles tense, a feral growl slipping from her lips as she sheds the human-sounding accent she’d forced herself to use. “I didn’t do this for humanity or the Alliance,” she spits, her voice taking on the accent that marks her Quarian upbringing. “I will make that very clear to the galaxy if you force my hand, Udina.”

The Ambassador’s face flushes red, anger flickering in his eyes. He steps forward, his finger jabbing toward Alexis as he speaks. “Now you listen here, Commander Shepard. If you do anything to damage the Alliance’s interests, you will be found guilty of treason. Do not doubt that.” He’s nearly trembling, clearly furious, but he composes himself quickly. “The Alliance wants you to have a role in choosing our representative. You have one opportunity to contribute positively—use it wisely.”

Alexis is stunned that she’s even being allowed an opinion, but she quickly comes to a decision. She locks eyes with Udina, her tone level and unyielding. “We’ve stopped the Reapers for now, but I doubt they’ll give up that easily. We’ll be at war before we know it.” She pauses, her eyes flicking to Anderson before she continues, “We need someone with military experience. Someone who can lead us into the fight. Captain Anderson is the best choice.”

She sees Udina’s jaw clench, his lips pressing into a thin line. He speaks through almost gritted teeth, “You make a good case.” His attention shifts to Anderson, and Alexis can see the frustration etched into his features. “Captain, are you ready for this?”

Anderson nods slowly, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “I don’t know if any of us are ready for what’s coming, but I’ll do what I can.”

Shepard feels a sense of pride swell in her chest. She smiles slightly. “The Reapers are still out there, and I intend to find a way to stop them before they get here.” She turns to walk away but pauses after a step, spinning on her heel. In one fluid motion, she draws her pistol, pointing it directly at Udina’s face.

Udina’s face goes pale, his expression a mix of fear and outrage as he stares down the barrel. Shepard’s voice is low and dangerous, her eyes narrowing as she glares at the man. “If you ever try something like that again, Udina… I will put a bullet between your eyes. No matter the consequences. Are we clear?”

For a moment, there is nothing but silence. Udina’s eyes narrow, his voice barely a whisper, “Crystal.”

Alexis holsters the weapon with the same swiftness she drew it. “Good.” She turns on her heel, striding away from the two men without a backward glance. As she walks, she hears Anderson’s voice behind her, his words meant for Udina.

“Shepard’s right. We’re headed for war with the Reapers. If we lose, it will be the end of all life. We have to be ready. We need the support of the other races—if we show them we can lead, they will follow. With their help, we can push the Reapers back into Dark Space.”

Alexis feels a small smile tugging at her lips. Anderson understands what’s at stake, and he will fight to keep the galaxy united. She’d made the right choice.

Chapter 15: XV

Summary:

Aftermath and Healing

Notes:

Emotions, plot and cute Alexis/Tali moments with definitely no fore shadowing!

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XV

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Alexis sits on the ground, her back leaning against the railing of the Normandy’s docking bay. Wrex and Garrus sit opposite her, the Krogan polishing the metallic skull he’d taken as a prize. Garrus casts uneasy glances at the object, clearly unnerved that Wrex had kept his promise to rip off Saren’s head and was actually keeping the unsightly trophy. The sight of Saren’s lifeless, metallic face is a stark reminder of what they’ve endured, and it sends a shiver down Garrus’s spine. Wrex, of course, is entirely unfazed, his focus entirely on cleaning the trophy with an air of satisfaction.

Tali sits next to Alexis, leaning into her with her head resting on Alexis's right shoulder, their fingers intertwined, hands resting between their legs. The battle may be over, but Alexis knows the mission isn't truly done. A day or two more, and maybe she can finally allow herself to relax, to figure everything else out. For now, she finds comfort in the warmth of Tali’s presence beside her, in the soft pressure of their joined hands.

Alexis shifts slightly where she’s sitting, a quiet groan escaping her lips. Medics had offered to look at her arm, but she’d refused them all. After everything, all she wants is to get back on her ship and leave the Citadel behind as quickly as possible. Being treated by medics here, even those from the Alliance, would likely mean staying on the station for several days. She doesn’t plan to travel far, but she’d much rather be confined to her own cabin if it came to that. Doctor Chakwas is more than capable of treating this injury, and Alexis has already decided that only Chakwas will do it.

Tali turns her head to look at Alexis, noting the pained crease of her brow that hasn’t left her face since struggling out from under the wreckage of Sovereign. Tali had tried to help, applying some medi-gel to ease the pain and keep the swelling down, making it easier to put the shoulder back in. But Alexis insisted that Chakwas would take care of it, that the pain wasn’t unbearable.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to put it back in?” Tali asks, her voice full of concern. “Leaving it like this isn’t exactly helping, you know.”

“I’m fine,” Alexis assures her, managing a small smile. “I’ve had worse. Remember, I’ve been shot twenty-nine times. A few broken bones are nothing.”

Tali rolls her eyes beneath her helmet. “That doesn’t mean you should just leave your shoulder dislocated.”

Wrex lets out a grunt of amusement, a little laugh rumbling in his chest. “If Shepard can’t handle a few broken bones and dislocated joints, I might have to take back her honorary Krogan title.”

Alexis’s face transforms instantly into mock horror, her eyes widening dramatically. “You can’t do that! I earned that title fair and square!”

The Krogan grins, his teeth glinting in the dim light. “That you did. But you’ll lose it if you keep bitching about it.”

“Hey!” Alexis protests, laughter bubbling up from her chest despite herself. “I didn’t even say anything!” The laughter shakes her chest, which in turn jostles her injured arm. A louder groan slips out before she can stop it. “Okay… ow… don’t make me laugh.”

“Getting close, Shepard,” Wrex teases. “A bit more of that whining, and you’ll be back to just being a Spectre.”

“Don’t worry, Wrex. I’ll never be as Krogan as you. We can’t all be giant 800-pound lizards.”

As if on cue, before Wrex can retort, the Normandy swings into view, pulling into the docking bay in a smooth arc. Alexis can’t help but smile at the sight—she doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone park as smoothly as Joker can.

The Normandy looks a little worse for wear, scratches from impacts marring its otherwise perfect paint job. One section of the frigate’s armoured plating is even missing, blown off by a projectile. Still, the ship looks functional, and that’s what matters most. Alexis hates the idea of being stuck on the Citadel for repairs. There are things she needs to do, things that can’t be done while she’s grounded here.

Happily accepting Tali’s assistance, Alexis climbs to her feet, her body protesting the movement. Together, they make their way toward the airlock. The squad stands at the entrance, waiting for the docking procedure to complete. Alexis has always thought this stage takes far too long. She wonders how much of it is just procedural, not truly necessary for the ship’s functioning. Today, it seems to be taking even longer than usual. As much as she’s resisted treatment, she can’t deny she’d prefer to have her shoulder put back in its socket sooner rather than later, and the fractures she knows she has looked at.

Finally, the airlock opens, revealing Doctor Chakwas waiting on the other side. A slight smile tugs at her lips, though her eyes are sharp as they zero in on Alexis's arm hanging limply at her side. Alexis attempts a nonchalant shrug, but the grimace that crosses her face tells Chakwas all she needs to know.

“All four of you are to report to the medbay as soon as you are able,” Chakwas instructs, her gaze never leaving Alexis's. It’s clear she knows Alexis would try to avoid it if given the chance.

To the Doctor’s great surprise, Alexis responds immediately. “Yes, ma’am.” Something about her tone puts Chakwas slightly on edge. She makes a mental note to ask Alexis what’s really going on.

“Good,” Chakwas says, nodding. “First, though, I believe there’s something you need to attend to.”

Alexis frowns in confusion. “There is?” She steps further onto the ship with her squad, rounding the corner—only to be met by the sight of the entire crew of the Normandy gathered in the CIC. The moment they come into view, the crew erupts into cheers, smiling faces all around. Alexis can’t help the wide grin that spreads across her face at the sight.

The crew swarms them as they descend the stairs, everyone eager to offer their congratulations on a successful mission. Shepard tries to dodge some of the praise, insisting it was a team effort, but none of them are having it. She finds herself surrounded, her heart swelling with pride and gratitude for this crew—her crew—who’ve stood by her through every challenge, every danger.

Eventually, the crew begins to filter back to their posts, resuming normal operations, though none of them lose their smiles. Alexis stands there for a moment, watching them return to their duties, before she realizes she’s nearly alone. Wrex, Garrus, and Tali have already followed Doctor Chakwas down to the medbay. Alexis hadn’t intended to be the last one to report in, but perhaps it’s for the best. She likely needs the most medical attention, and it’s better if the Doctor isn’t distracted by the others.

Before Alexis could begin making her way down the stairs, Joker stepped in beside her, forcing her to slow her stride to match the pilot’s. “Wrex looked happy with his prize,” he noted, his voice filled with bemusement.

Alexis chuckled softly, her lips curving into a weary smile. “I wasn’t actually expecting him to literally take Saren’s head. But, well, I did promise him. And if there’s one thing Wrex takes seriously, it’s a promise involving violence.”

Joker laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m not going to be the one to tell Wrex no. Even without my brittle-ass bones, I think he’d snap every one of mine like twigs if I tried.”

“More than likely,” she agreed, her smile growing wider for just a moment.

Joker glanced at Alexis, the levity in his expression fading as he observed the Commander. Despite the victory, the relief, she carried a weight that wasn't letting her rest. She should have been celebrating, should have been basking in the fact that they had done the impossible. But her eyes were tired, and there was a distant pain that seemed carved into her every breath.

“For what it’s worth, Shepard…” Joker's voice softened, a sincerity not often heard in his tone, “Kaidan would’ve been proud.”

Alexis stopped in her tracks, turning to face the pilot. Her eyes widened slightly, his words catching her off guard. Joker pressed on, determined to let her know, “I mean, he always was, of you, I mean. But especially now.”

For a second, Alexis's face crumpled with emotion, and then she managed a small but genuine smile, her eyes shimmering slightly as she took in his words. “Thank you, Jeff. That means a lot.” Without hesitation, she leaned forward, wrapping her good arm around Joker in a brief but heartfelt hug. He stiffened in surprise before awkwardly patting her back.

When she pulled away, the faint smile remained, but there was a heaviness in her eyes that had not lessened. With a nod, she turned and continued her journey down to the lower deck of the Normandy.

Joker watched her go, his gaze softening. The Commander almost never called him by his first name—he could count the number of times on one hand. And it only happened when things were serious, really serious. He knew right then that Alexis would be alright, eventually. Ever since Virmire, he had been worried. He had seen the quiet, almost invisible way the loss of Kaidan had begun to chip away at her. The fiery anger she’d shown in the cargo bay, the grief—he knew that was just the tip of what she was feeling. And he hoped that she would find a way to heal from it.

Alexis descended the stairs slowly, her boots making muted clanks on the metal as she moved almost in a daze, her mind a swirl of half-formed thoughts. She was so lost within herself that she didn't realise she had wandered into the medbay until a familiar voice snapped her back to reality.

“Commander!” Doctor Chakwas's voice was sharp, cutting through the fog.

Alexis blinked, turning her head toward the Doctor. “What?”

Chakwas raised an eyebrow, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. “Are you going to take off your armour so I can examine you properly?”

Alexis looked down at herself, seeing her body in the centre of the medbay, her feet glued to the ground. She couldn't even remember how she got there. Had she just been standing there, lost in thought? She hoped it hadn't been long. “Right. Yes,” she muttered.

She began to move, trying to remove her armour, but quickly hissed through her teeth, a flare of pain from her left arm reminding her that it was still not in its socket. “Sit on the bed, Shepard,” Chakwas said, her tone leaving no room for argument. The Doctor watched with a mixture of concern and sympathy, noting the exhaustion etched into every movement Alexis made. The Commander was running on fumes, that much was obvious.

Alexis obeyed, dropping onto the bed heavily. She attempted to help the Doctor remove her boots, only for Chakwas to gently bat her hands away. Alexis frowned, feeling almost childlike in her inability to do something so simple. 

Soon, she was down to just her undersuit, her left arm still hanging uselessly at her side, her body aching with fatigue and pain. “Lie back,” Chakwas instructed. Alexis didn’t argue, letting the Doctor guide her until she was lying flat. Chakwas leaned over her, her hands on Alexis's shoulder, her gaze locking with the Commander's. “This is going to hurt. A lot.”

Alexis gave a barely perceptible nod, her eyes sliding shut, trying to regulate her breathing. She felt Chakwas move her arm, the bone shifting in ways that sent white-hot flashes of pain through her body. “Three, two, one…” With a sharp pull, Chakwas yanked the shoulder, and Alexis felt the bone pop back into its socket.

She let out a choked gasp, her right arm coming up to cover her eyes, her teeth clenched in a grimace. She lay there, her chest heaving with heavy breaths, trying to control the tears that stung at the corners of her eyes. “Ow,” she managed, her voice strained.

Chakwas began her examination, her fingers gently but firmly probing down the length of Alexis's arm. “Ow is right,” she said dryly, eliciting another hiss of pain from the Commander. “Definitely some fractures, but let’s get a scan just to be thorough. Come over here, Commander.”

Alexis blinked, sitting up with effort, her body protesting every movement. She followed Chakwas to the scanning bed at the end of the medbay, lying back down, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Nineteen fractures total,” Chakwas read from the monitor, her tone both surprised and impressed. “Humerus, ulna, and radius, all broken in several places.” She squinted at the screen, her lips twitching in amusement. “Oh, and three of your fingers are fractured as well.”

Alexis groaned softly, her brow furrowing. “And that's funny to you?”

Chakwas glanced at her, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Not to you, no. But to me? A little, yes.” At Alexis's growing glare, Chakwas relented, “It's just—these injuries will keep you out of action for a few weeks. No quick fix this time.”

Alexis let out a sigh, her expression softening. “Good.”

Chakwas arched an eyebrow. “Good?”

Alexis nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need some time off.”

Chakwas paused, taken aback. She had expected stubbornness, maybe even denial. But this? This vulnerability was something new, and it told her just how much Alexis had been carrying. “Of course, Commander,” she said softly, understanding. Alexis needed this, needed the space to grieve, to heal. Chakwas wouldn’t push her, not now.

After Chakwas finished her work, Alexis left the medbay, her arm encased in a slim medi-gel cast that fits under her undersuit but prevents armour from being attached, and supported by a sling. She walked through the Normandy slowly, deliberately, her steps taking her the long way around the mess hall. She moved with purpose, her focus only on her quarters. Chakwas had been right, she was more tired than she thought she’d ever been. She needed to sleep, and now she finally could without the worry of Saren pressing down on her.

As Alexis approaches her cabin doors, she spots Tali standing there, illuminated by the ambient lighting of the Normandy's corridor. Tali is dressed only in her undersuit and light coverings, the armoured pieces having been removed earlier. Alexis can see the signs of recent medical treatment—the bandages wrapped around Tali's arm, the faint traces of medi-gel still visible through her fabric. Tali’s posture is uncertain, her head bowed, her fingers fidgeting slightly. Her presence here speaks volumes of her emotions, and Alexis’s heart softens at the sight.

“Tali?” Alexis says softly, her voice gentle and filled with warmth. Tali looks up, her helmet tilting slightly as her gaze meets Alexis's. Even through the visor, Alexis can sense Tali’s unease, her vulnerability, the emotions simmering beneath the surface.

“Alexis…” Tali begins, her voice trembling slightly, the words sticking in her throat. “I know the mission is over, and we need rest but…” She hesitates, the words not coming out as easily as she hoped. She shifts her weight, her hands coming together nervously. “I just… I don’t want to be alone right now. And I…”

Her voice trails off, and Alexis can see the flush behind Tali’s visor. Alexis’s heart softens at the vulnerability Tali shows. She smiles gently and steps closer, her good hand reaching out to take Tali’s three-fingered one, her fingers curling around it with a comforting squeeze.

“Tali,” Alexis whispers, her voice carrying the warmth of understanding. “You don’t need to say anything else.” She pauses, her eyes meeting Tali’s through the visor, her own emotions unguarded and raw. “I don’t want to be alone tonight either,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tali lets out a soft sigh of relief, her tense shoulders easing. Alexis gives her hand a gentle tug, leading her through the cabin doors into her quarters. The room is dimly lit, the ambient glow of the ship's systems creating a soft, calming atmosphere. The door closes behind them, sealing them away from the world outside, from the worries and burdens that awaited them beyond these walls.

They turn to face each other, and the silence between them is not awkward—rather, it is filled with all the unspoken words, the things too difficult to express with language. Slowly, Alexis begins to remove her undersuit, her movement halted by the pain of her injured arm. She winces, her arm hanging stiff and uncooperative, but before she can struggle too much, Tali steps closer.

“Let me help,” Tali murmurs, her voice soft, her hands already moving to assist. Alexis nods, allowing Tali to carefully unfasten the clasps of her undersuit. As Tali works, Alexis reaches out, her fingers brushing against the clasps of Tali's suit.

Slowly, Alexis begins to remove Tali's suit, her fingers trembling as she works the clasps loose, as much as she can with one good arm. The two women undress each other with deliberate care, their touches lingering, reverent. Piece by piece, their suits fall away until they are standing together in nothing but their bare skin.

As Tali removes the last piece of her suit, Alexis takes a moment to look at her. Tali's skin glows faintly with the bioluminescent freckles typical of Quarians, her dark eyes framed by the iridescent spots of light that glimmer along her skin. Alexis can’t help but admire her, her fingers reaching out to trail softly along Tali's jawline. Tali shivers at the touch, her eyes closing as she leans into the warmth of Alexis’s hand.

“Your freckles… they’re beautiful,” Alexis whispers, her fingers brushing across the glowing spots on Tali's cheek, tracing the constellation-like patterns that cover her body. She feels Tali’s hand come up to rest against her arm, the touch gentle, filled with affection.

“Thank you, Alexis,” Tali murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. She leans forward, their foreheads touching, her eyes closing as she takes a moment to just breathe. The warmth of Alexis's presence, her touch, it is all enough to make the weight of everything else disappear.

Together, they move to hang their undersuits over the back of a chair before making their way to the bed. Alexis climbs in first, her body protesting each movement, but she ignores it. She feels Tali slide in beside her, her body pressing against Alexis’s in a way that makes her sigh in relief. They lie down, facing each other, the warmth of Tali's skin comforting Alexis more than words could ever manage.

Carefully, Tali reaches out, her fingers brushing against the scars and tattoos that decorate Alexis’s skin. Her touch lingers on a long scar running down Alexis’s side, her thumb tracing the lines of it gently, almost as if she’s trying to erase it with her touch. The intimacy of it feels like an unspoken promise, a reassurance that despite everything, they are both here—together.

“Tali…” Alexis whispers, her good arm coming up to wrap around the Quarian’s waist, pulling her close. Tali shifts, her body curling into Alexis, her arms wrapping around her as if she’s afraid of letting go.

“I was so scared,” Tali admits, her voice cracking, her forehead pressing against Alexis’s. “When I saw you under that rubble… I thought… I thought I’d lost you.”

The words cut through Alexis's heart, and she can hear the vulnerability, the desperation in Tali's voice. Alexis pulls Tali even closer, her fingers threading through the other woman’s hair, letting the soft, silken strands slip between her fingers. “I’m here, Tali. I’m not going anywhere.” Her voice is filled with all the love she has for Tali, her heart swelling with emotion. She feels Tali’s body shudder against her, the fear and pain she’s been holding back finally escaping in a soft sob.

“I love you, Alexis,” Tali whispers, her voice muffled as she presses her face into the crook of Alexis’s neck. The confession is raw, unguarded, and it fills the space between them with something powerful and tangible.

Alexis tightens her embrace, her heart feeling like it could burst from the love she feels. “I love you too, Tali,” she whispers back, her voice trembling with emotion. She holds Tali against her, feeling the warmth of her body, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, and it is enough to make her feel safe.

They lay there in silence for a while, their bodies pressed close, the only sounds in the room being their soft breaths and the occasional sniffle from Tali. Alexis runs her fingers soothingly down Tali's back, her touch gentle and comforting. Tali’s skin glows softly, her freckles shimmering in the dim light, and Alexis can’t help but marvel at how beautiful she is.

After a while, Tali shifts slightly, her eyes meeting Alexis’s. There is so much emotion there—love, fear, relief. She reaches up, her fingers brushing against Alexis’s cheek, her touch featherlight. “Promise me…” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Promise me you will always come back. I don’t think I could take it if you didn't, and I know not to ask to not be reckless.”

Alexis’s heart clenches at the fear in Tali’s voice. She nods, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I promise, Tali. I’ll come back to you, and I'll try to be more careful.” She leans forward, pressing her lips gently against Tali's forehead, her good arm wrapping around her tightly. “We’ve been through so much… and I need you just as much as you need me.”

Tali lets out a shaky breath, her eyes closing as she leans into Alexis’s touch. “Keelah… I was so afraid,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” Alexis's voice is steady, filled with determination. She looks at Tali, her gaze unwavering. “No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together. I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

Tali looks up at her, her eyes shining with tears. She nods, a small, hopeful smile tugging at her lips. “Together,” she whispers, her voice filled with emotion.

“Always,” Alexis replies, her voice soft, but filled with conviction.

Alexis's eyes close as she takes a deep breath, breathing in the scent of Tali, the familiar scent that reminds her of home. She feels Tali’s body relax against her, her breathing evening out, her fingers still gently tracing the lines of Alexis’s scars.

The galaxy outside may be filled with danger and uncertainty, but right now, here in this room, they have each other. And for Alexis, that is all she needs. She closes her eyes, her breathing evening out, the exhaustion of the past few weeks catching up to her. Slowly, she feels herself drifting off, her body relaxing in Tali’s arms.

Tali rests her head against Alexis’s chest, her breathing slowing as well, her arms still wrapped tightly around the woman she loves. Together, they drift off to sleep, holding each other close, finding comfort and solace in the warmth of each other’s presence.

For now, they are safe, and that is all that matters.

~~~~

The Normandy's mess hall is quiet, the usual chatter and hum of activity replaced by a subdued silence. The memorial for Kaidan Alenko and the marines lost on Virmire had just ended, and everyone is still carrying the weight of the moment. The crew had shared their memories, spoken about the fallen, and now each of them were left to carry those memories on their own.

Alexis stands with her back to the wall, her gaze distant as she takes in the room. Her eyes trace over her squadmates, each of them in their own small group, leaning on one another for comfort. Garrus is speaking quietly with Doctor Chakwas near the bar, both of them holding a glass of the doctor’s special stock. Wrex stands near the corner, his posture relaxed but his eyes betraying a sense of quiet respect as he stares at the makeshift memorial that has been set up at the far end of the room—pictures of Kaidan and the fallen marines, their faces captured in moments of triumph, of laughter.

Tali is standing a few feet away from Alexis, her arms crossed over her chest as she talks with Liara. Alexis can see the tension in Tali’s stance, the stiffness of her shoulders. She’s trying to hold herself together, but Alexis knows her well enough by now to see the cracks beneath the surface.

Alexis takes a deep breath, pushing herself off the wall and making her way over to her squad. She slips her good arm around Tali’s waist, pulling her close and feeling the Quarian relax slightly into her touch. Tali looks up at her, her eyes soft behind her visor, and Alexis gives her a small, reassuring smile.

“Hey, you okay?” she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tali nods, her fingers brushing against Alexis’s side, her hand resting against her hip. “I’m okay,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “Just… thinking about Kaidan. About all of them. I still can’t believe…” She trails off, her gaze drifting to the memorial.

Alexis leans her forehead against Tali’s, her eyes closing for a moment. “I know. I miss him too. But we’re going to make sure their sacrifice wasn’t in vain. All of them.”

“Yes. We have to,” Tali whispers back, her voice filled with determination, even through the sadness.

“We will.” Alexis pulls away, her hand slipping into Tali’s, giving it a squeeze before turning to look at the rest of her squad. She takes a step forward, raising her voice so they can all hear her. “Hey. Everyone. Come here.”

The rest of the squad turns at her voice, their conversations trailing off. Garrus nods at Chakwas, and they both make their way over, Wrex following behind them. Liara steps forward, her gaze moving from Alexis to Tali, her eyes filled with empathy.

When they’re all gathered, Alexis takes a deep breath, her gaze moving over each of them. “I just wanted to say… thank you. For being here. For everything. We’ve all been through hell, and I know it’s not going to get easier. But I’m grateful for every single one of you. We’re in this together, and we’re going to keep fighting. For our crew, for everyone we’ve lost.”

There’s a moment of silence, the weight of her words settling over them. Then Garrus nods, his mandibles flaring slightly as he speaks. “We’re with you, Shepard. All the way.”

“To the end,” Wrex rumbles, his voice a deep growl of agreement.

Liara steps forward, her hand resting on Alexis’s arm. “We’ll honour their memory, Commander. We’ll make sure their sacrifice means something.”

Tali squeezes Alexis’s hand, her voice soft but firm. “We’re not alone. We have each other. And that’s enough to keep going.”

Alexis nods, her throat tightening with emotion. She looks around at her squad, her family, and she feels a spark of hope amidst the grief. They’ve lost so much, but they still have each other. And that’s something worth fighting for.

“Alright,” she says, her voice steady. “Let’s get back to it. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

They all nod, their expressions resolute. One by one, they begin to move away, returning to their duties, their purpose renewed. Alexis watches them go, her heart heavy but her resolve stronger than ever. They would keep fighting. For Kaidan, for the fallen, for the galaxy. And they would win—together.

As the group disperses, Alexis lingers for a moment longer, her gaze returning to the memorial. She steps closer, her eyes moving over the photos of Kaidan and the Marines, their smiling faces staring back at her. She reaches out, her fingers brushing lightly over the pictures.

“I'm going to make it worth it,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I promise.”

She feels a presence behind her, and she turns slightly to see Garrus standing there, his gaze soft as he watches her. He steps closer, his voice low. “He believed in you, Alexis. We all do. And we know you’re going to make it count.”

Alexis nods, swallowing back the tears that threaten to fall. “Thank you, Garrus. I just… I wish he was still here. I wish they all were.”

Garrus places a comforting hand on her shoulder, his grip firm. “I know. We all do. But we honour them by keeping on, by not giving up. And if there's one thing I know about you, it's that you don’t give up.”

A small smile pulls at her lips, and she nods. “Yeah. You're right. No giving up.”

Garrus gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back. “Take your time, Alexis. We’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Alexis watches as Garrus walks away, leaving her alone once more with the memorial. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, letting the grief wash over her for a few more moments before she straightens up. She turns away from the photos, her gaze hardening with determination. They had a mission to complete, and she wasn't going to let their sacrifices be in vain.

She makes her way to the exit, her steps growing more purposeful with each stride. As she reaches the door, she pauses, looking back at the mess hall. Her squad is scattered around, each of them returning to their duties, their resolve evident in their movements. Tali catches her eye from across the room, offering her a small nod, and Alexis feels a warmth spread through her chest.

They weren’t just a team—they were a family. And together, they could face whatever was coming.

With that thought, Alexis steps out of the mess hall, the door sliding shut behind her. The echoes of the memorial still linger in her mind, but they fuel her resolve. She makes her way down the corridor, her injured arm still aching, but the pain is a reminder of what she’s fighting for. She passes crew members who offer her nods of respect, and she returns each one with a determined gaze.

As she approaches the elevator, Tali catches up to her, falling into step beside her. Without a word, Tali reaches for Alexis’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Alexis glances at her, and they share a quiet moment of understanding. No words are needed—Tali knows the weight Alexis is carrying, and she’s there to help shoulder it.

They step into the elevator together, the door sliding shut behind them. The hum of the Normandy surrounds them as they descend, and Alexis finds comfort in Tali’s presence, in the steady warmth of her hand in hers. She closes her eyes for a moment, mentally preparing herself for the meeting to come. She’d requested time off from the Spectres after dealing with Saren, and that had been granted, but the Alliance hadn’t done granted the same. She’d only received a single message, straight from an Admiral;

Lieutenant Commander Alexis Shepard,
Report to Arcturus Station as soon as you are able.
Admiral Steven Hackett.

As the elevator reaches their destination, they step out, their hands still linked. Alexis's gives Tali's hand one final squeeze before heading for the airlock to cross over into the station.

Alexis walks through the station's halls, her mind circling around the message she'd received from Admiral Hackett. It contained nothing more than an instruction to meet him, with absolutely no indication of why. She hopes—sincerely, almost desperately—that it's merely a debrief on the events of the last few weeks. No matter what her past record suggests, Alexis actually wants time off this time. Before, she'd only taken leave when forced, never allowing herself a true break. There was always this gnawing feeling—a need to prove herself, to show that she was good enough.

But this time, things are different. She needs the space—space to think, space to breathe, space to piece herself back together. The repeated brushes with death had taken a toll, and the loss of Kaidan because of her orders had cracked something deep inside her. She feels fractured, unsure if anything could really put her mind back together. The memorial for Kaidan and the support Tali offered had helped her take the first steps, but the road to healing seemed unfathomably long. Even her mother, someone she has always leaned on, might not be enough this time.

Alexis stops in front of Admiral Hackett’s office, pausing with her hand hovering near the door control. She lets out a long breath, pushing aside her uncertainty, before knocking lightly on the door.

“Come in,” comes Hackett's voice from inside, almost immediately. Shepard steps through, her eyes meeting Hackett’s briefly as he glances up from the datapad on his desk, his face giving no indication of what this meeting is about.

Hackett’s secretary, seated at a nearby desk, looks up and acknowledges her. “The Admiral is expecting you, Commander. Please, go right ahead.”

“Thank you,” Alexis responds, giving a brief nod. She steps up to the door, knocking once more before pushing it open. Hackett looks up from his console.

“Commander Shepard, please, sit down,” he says, his tone brisk, but not unkind.

Alexis moves into the room, taking the seat opposite his desk. She waits for a few moments, expecting Hackett to explain his summons, but he says nothing, his gaze still on the datapad. Growing a little impatient, she speaks up. “May I ask what this is about, Admiral?”

Finally, Hackett looks up fully, his eyes locking with hers, and he nods. “I wanted to congratulate you on the success of your mission, Commander.”

“Oh,” Alexis replies, surprised, her tense posture softening just slightly. “Thank you, sir.” She shifts in her seat, adding, “I had a great team to get the job done.”

Hackett leans forward, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “True. But I don't think the outcome was purely a result of teamwork.”

Alexis opens her mouth to respond, but Hackett continues before she can. “Commander, your mission has put Humanity at the precipice of something incredible. We stand at the brink of becoming true leaders of the galaxy. Whether for good or ill, remains to be seen.” He pauses. “The decisions we make now could shape not only our species but the fate of countless others.”

Alexis leans back, her expression darkening at the mention of the Council. “Udina seemed to think we should seize the Council’s power for Humanity.” She shakes her head, the disdain evident in her voice. “We didn’t do any of this to grab power. We did it to save lives. I made that clear to him, as well as my difference of opinion about several of his 'suggestions.'”

A flicker of amusement passes across Hackett’s eyes. “Yes, I heard about that. He made a formal complaint to the Alliance.” Alexis tenses, trying to brace herself for what might come next, but Hackett continues, “Captain Anderson dismissed it, actually. Said that if Udina had any complaints about protocol, perhaps he should address Anderson’s decision to break the Normandy’s lockdown… and maybe mention the part about him breaking a few of the Ambassador’s teeth while he’s at it.”

Relief washes over Alexis, almost overwhelming, and she can't help but chuckle softly. Hackett gives a small smile in response. “That said, Shepard—threatening political figures isn't exactly standard procedure.”

“I don’t intend to make a habit of it, sir. But if I have to deal with Udina again, I make no guarantees.” Her smile fades slightly, and she adds, “I just can’t let people like him dictate the cost of lives.”

Hackett leans back in his chair, letting out a small laugh. “The man certainly knows how to get under your skin. I don’t fault you for the sentiment, Shepard. But Udina does serve Humanity well, in his own way—even if his focus can get misplaced.”

Alexis raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she bites back any retort. Instead, she waits. Finally, Hackett grows more serious, his expression hardening. “I imagine you’re wondering why I’ve summoned you all the way out here, Commander.”

“Yes, sir,” Alexis nods, eager to finally get to the core of this meeting.

Hackett exhales deeply before leaning forward, his gaze intense. “I need to ask you directly, Commander—do you truly believe that the Reapers are the threat you describe? Should we be taking this as seriously as you claim?”

The question catches Alexis a little off guard, but she can see he’s sincere. She thinks of all the sleepless nights, the waking nightmares, the vision of a galaxy reduced to ash—the echoes of the Protheans’ screams still ringing in her ears. Alexis meets his eyes and nods firmly. “I’d stake my life on it. We can’t afford to ignore this threat, Admiral. If we do nothing, the entire galaxy will be exterminated. Every species will be wiped out. Sovereign was just one. There are countless more of them out there, waiting. And we are not ready.”

For a moment, Hackett simply stares at her, and Alexis braces herself for the response—dismissal, skepticism, indifference—but to her surprise, the Admiral smiles. “Good. I needed to hear it straight from you. Anderson gave the same assessment, but I wanted to hear it in your words.”

Alexis blinks, the weight in her chest easing. “You mean… you believe me?”

Hackett nods slowly, his gaze unwavering. “Yes, Commander. I believe you. Let me tell you something, Alexis. I’ve been around for a long time, seen a lot of things in my career—good, bad, and everything in between. The brass, the politicians—they all think they know better than those actually out there, in the thick of it. They think their experience behind a desk gives them insight that soldiers on the frontlines lack. But I’ve always believed the ones who’ve seen the face of the enemy know it best.”

He points a finger at her, emphasizing his next words. “You’ve faced the Reapers. You’ve seen the visions, you’ve looked into the abyss. Dismissing you would be the worst mistake we could make. I will do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. You have my word.”

Emotion swells in Alexis’s chest—something between disbelief, relief, and gratitude. “Thank you, Admiral. I didn’t expect this much… support.”

Hackett gives her a nod, his face softening. “Don’t thank me yet. There’s a long road ahead, Commander. And the Council…” His voice trails off, his expression darkening. “They might not share the same belief. You’re a Spectre, and that means their orders override ours. If they tell you to put Reaper-preparedness on hold for something else, our hands might be tied.”

“I could refuse,” Alexis suggests, her voice tinged with frustration.

Hackett shakes his head. “That would be a mistake, Shepard. You need the Council on your side. We can’t afford to alienate them or give the impression that Humanity’s acting solely in its own interests. We’re fighting a battle not just against the Reapers but against bureaucracy, fear, and complacency. We have to be smart about it.”

She can’t help the small surge of anger bubbling up. “So we’re supposed to just do what they say, even if it means losing time that we can’t afford to waste?”

“It’s a balancing act,” Hackett concedes. “But, Commander, the fact that you’re willing to fight this battle, even when the odds seem insurmountable, is precisely why we need you. You’re more than just a soldier—you’re a symbol. And right now, the galaxy needs hope, even if it doesn’t know it yet.”

Alexis exhales deeply, trying to let the tension drain from her shoulders. She knows Hackett is right, but that doesn’t make the situation any less frustrating. “I’ll do what needs to be done, Admiral. I just hope that, in the end, it’ll be enough.”

Hackett smiles, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “That’s all any of us can do, Commander.”

The weight of those words settles heavily on her, but there’s also a sense of determination that fills her chest. It’s a burden, but one she’s willing to carry.

“Thank you, sir,” she says quietly, "And about my leave?"

“Take your leave, Shepard. You’ve earned it. And when you’re ready to come back, we’ll be here, ready to do whatever it takes.” He gestures to her arm in the sling. “Get that healed. We need you at your best.”

Alexis nods, offering him a small, genuine smile. “Yes, sir. I plan to be.”

With that, she turns and leaves Hackett’s office, the door closing behind her.

The news that she would at least have someone in the Alliance on her side to help stop the Reapers had raised Alexis' spirits considerably. Having someone as influential as Admiral Hackett on her side meant that their reach would extend far beyond what she could achieve alone. The Reapers were a clear threat to the entire galaxy, and now they had just a little bit more of a fighting chance with Hackett's support. Alexis wasn’t entirely sure how much of a difference he could make, but it was a start. And despite their occasional disagreements, she knew he was right about how to proceed.

She couldn’t afford to anger the Council or the Alliance by refusing any missions that didn’t align with her Reaper-focused agenda. If they were to have even a sliver of hope against the overwhelming threat of the Reapers, she needed everyone on her side, unified in purpose. The galaxy would need every ally, every resource, and every opportunity to prepare for what was to come.

It wasn’t easy for Alexis to consider playing by the rules and balancing politics, especially given her instincts to take direct action. But she knew this wasn’t about her personal feelings or pride—it was about survival. The entire galaxy was on the brink of something cataclysmic, and it would take a united front to push back against the darkness.

 

Chapter 16: XVI

Summary:

A loyalty mission and a celebration

Notes:

So close now to ME2 I can't wait!!!

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XVI

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Alexis grunts as she hangs upside down from the bar, her abs on fire as she curls her body upward, punching the air with each hand before slowly lowering herself back down. Sweat drips from her skin, her suit wicking away the moisture. She’s been at it for over an hour, letting the burn fuel her determination. After weeks of doing nothing but filing reports and discussing preparations for the Reapers with Admiral Hackett and Councilman Anderson, Shepard is eager for something physical, something that isn’t just staring at screens and making plans.

She can feel herself wasting away, her muscles craving the exertion she had missed while stuck on the Normandy for menial tasks and endless debriefs. It’s the most frustrating leave she’s ever taken, even if Doctor Chakwas had been right—she needed the break, both physically and mentally. But after what felt like ages, the sling is finally gone, and though her arm is still in a cast, Shepard is back, pushing her body past its limits.

She isn’t alone in the cargo bay. Crew members continue their duties, throwing glances her way as she drives herself through her workout, moving like a woman possessed. Her suit armour—except the arm with the medi-cast—is back on, and the crew can tell she’s pushing herself harder than anyone else aboard. But there is one person not watching. Across the room, Garrus is hunched over a small desk, his eyes fixed on his omni-tool’s screen. He’s been poring over data for hours, the intensity of his gaze never faltering.

Garrus can't believe his luck. The intel that landed in his inbox earlier today seems too good to be true—details, coordinates, and a wealth of information on a case he'd given up on long ago. The case that’s haunted him. Dr Saleon, the monster who had escaped his grasp. It looks like Garrus now has his location. He can’t let this chance slip through his fingers.

“Hey, Shepard.” Garrus’s voice carries across the cargo bay, breaking the tension. He stands and starts walking toward her, his eyes still focused on the data in front of him.

Alexis doesn’t miss a beat, continuing her exercises. “What’s up, Garrus?” She curls her body once more, holding her position before hanging from the bar with a bit more ease, giving the Turian her full attention.

Garrus approaches, his eyes locking on her helmeted face. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Alexis blinks behind her visor. “Depends on what it is.”

He lifts his omni-tool, the screen displaying a photograph of a Salarian—Dr. Saleon. The image is small and pixelated, but the cruel set of his face is unmistakable. “Do you recognise him?” Garrus asks.

Alexis cranes her neck slightly, the picture coming into focus upside-down. She frowns, trying to place the familiar face. “I don’t think so. Should I?”

“Maybe not.” Garrus gives a humourless snort. “That’s Dr. Saleon. A Salarian Geneticist. Wanted by C-Sec for crimes against nature.”

“Sounds charming.” Alexis arches an eyebrow. “What did he do?”

Garrus grimaces, a deep frustration flashing in his mandibles. “He’s an organ trader. But not your average scumbag. He’d hire assistants, vulnerable people—refugees, the desperate. And he’d grow cloned organs inside of them. If the organs didn’t develop properly, or weren’t suitable—he’d just leave them there. Rotting in their own bodies.”

Alexis's stomach churns at the thought. “That’s horrific.”

“Yeah,” Garrus says, a growl escaping his throat. “I was assigned to investigate, found out what he was up to. But he blew his lab and ran before we could stop him. Took a few of his ‘assistants’ with him.” His eyes narrow at the memory. “C-Sec overrode my orders to shoot down his ship. Saleon escaped.”

Alexis swings herself off the bar, flipping gracefully through the air and landing lightly on her feet. “And now?” she asks, looking back at him.

“Now,” Garrus says, the edge of determination entering his voice, “I have his location. Someone sent me this intel—it’s fresh, and I think it’s legit. He’s in the Kepler Verge, but I have no idea for how long.” He pauses, looking Alexis in the eye. “I need the Normandy to go after him.”

Alexis takes a moment, glancing at the coordinates Garrus has. She does some quick mental calculations—10 to 12 hours to get there, maybe more. No guarantees Saleon would still be there. “Are you sure we’ll catch him? There’s no telling if he’ll even stay put.”

Garrus’s jaw tightens. “It’s worth the risk. I can’t let him get away again. And if it takes leaving the Normandy to go after him alone—I’ll do it.”

Alexis steps closer, resting a reassuring hand on Garrus’s shoulder. “You won’t need to. I’m with you.” She smiles, but there’s a seriousness behind her gaze. She knows Garrus wants justice—or maybe vengeance—but she’s determined to see Saleon brought in the right way. She’s seen what the weight of unchecked revenge can do in herself, and she won’t let her friend go down that road if she can help it.

Garrus blinks, clearly surprised. “You sure about that? Your arm…” He gestures to her cast. “You’re not fully healed yet.”

Alexis scoffs. “It’s one Doctor, Garrus. I’ve faced worse with less. I’ll be fine.” She quirks an eyebrow behind her visor. “Or have you forgotten who I am?”

Garrus lets out a dry chuckle. “Point taken, Commander.” He looks at her, his mandibles twitching slightly, the weight of the upcoming mission evident on his face.

“Joker!” Alexis calls, her voice echoing through the cargo bay. She waits only a few seconds before the pilot’s voice crackles over the comm.

“Do you know what time it is, Commander?” Joker’s voice is heavy with sleep-deprived annoyance.

Alexis glances at her omni-tool. “Twelve forty-two AM, January thirty-first, twenty-one eighty-three, if I’m not mistaken.”

There’s a pause, followed by an exasperated sigh. “What do you need, Commander?”

“Set a course for the Herschel System, Kepler Verge,” Shepard replies, a grin tugging at her lips. “We’ve got a deranged doctor to catch.”

“Do I even want to know?”

Alexis shrugs, the smile widening. “Probably not.”

“Aye, aye, Commander.” Joker’s voice grows more alert as he punches in the coordinates. “ETA to the Kepler Verge is ten hours, twenty-five minutes.”

Alexis turns back to Garrus. “Plenty of time for a shower. Don’t want to show up to arrest a criminal looking like I’ve just done laps around the ship.”

Garrus eyes her up and down. Even in the suit, her weariness is noticeable—a detail only those who know her well would catch. “Right. I think I’ll get some sleep while I can.”

Alexis grins, stepping into the elevator. “Good idea. Don’t let that excitement keep you up, Vakarian.” She winks at him as the elevator doors slide shut, leaving Garrus shaking his head.

The Turian watches the doors close, then sighs, glancing at his omni-tool once more. The image of Saleon still there, a reminder of what’s to come. Garrus knows this mission means more than just bringing in a criminal. It’s unfinished business, a chance to redeem the mistake that’s haunted him. And with Shepard by his side, he feels like maybe—just maybe—he can finally put an end to that chapter of his life.

He shuts off the omni-tool, his mandibles tightening in determination. Tomorrow, they would find Dr. Saleon. And this time, there would be no escape.

~~~~

Alexis and Garrus stand patiently behind Joker’s chair, watching as the ship they’ve been searching for comes up on the Normandy’s sensors.

“You know, for a guy who trades in black market organs, he really likes to stay in one place for a while.”

Joker looks back at Alexis, raising an eyebrow, “Are you seriously complaining that a criminal is too easy to find?”

Alexis laughs and shrugs, “I’m just saying, I’d make a much better outlaw than at least half of them. Keep moving, it’s just common sense.” She checks the pistol at her side one last time, glancing up at the impassive Turian standing next to her, “Ready to get him?”

Her words seem to snap Garrus from a trance, looking down at the biotic, “Definitely. Been after this guy for too long, it’ll feel good to finally get him and make him answer for it all.”

“Remember what we agreed. We’re taking him in alive if at all possible.”

Garrus nods, “I know. Hopefully he cooperates.”

Alexis is suspicious of the Turian’s complete agreement, knowing full well he’d do his best to make an excuse to kill Dr. Saleon. It’s part of the reason she’s following him on board, to make sure he doesn’t make a mistake he can’t take back. Alexis decides the moment the elevator doors close the previous night, she’ll kill Saleon before Garrus has a chance if it comes down to that. She has more than enough blood on her hands, innocent and guilty. What are a few drops amongst an ocean?

“Take us in, Joker.”

Joker grins, a slightly mischievous gleam in his eyes as his fingers dance over the controls. “Aye, aye, Commander.” The Normandy smoothly moves into position, and Alexis feels the familiar shift in the ship as they approach the other vessel. The tension in the air grows thicker, the gravity of what they’re about to do settling over them.

As the ship draws closer, Garrus stands a little straighter, his eyes fixed on the screen, tracking the movements of the vessel ahead. Alexis can see the intensity in his eyes, the determination. He’s not just here for the mission; this is personal. Saleon had gotten away from him before, leaving behind victims who never received justice. For Garrus, this isn’t just another criminal takedown—it’s redemption.

Alexis places a comforting hand on Garrus’s shoulder, feeling the taut muscles beneath his armour. “Hey,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “We’re going to do this the right way. Saleon is going to face what he’s done, and you’re going to be the one to bring him in. Trust me.”

Garrus looks at her, his expression softening for a brief moment. “I trust you, Alexis. I just don’t trust him.”

She nods, understanding the feeling all too well. She gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting her hand drop. “That’s why we’re doing this together.”

The Normandy shudders slightly as it docks with the other ship, the docking clamps securing with a loud, mechanical thud. The tension in the air seems to reach its peak, the weight of what they’re about to face pressing down on them.

“Docking complete,” Joker’s voice crackles through the comm, a hint of tension in his tone. “You’re good to go, Commander.”

The airlock opens, Alexis stalking through first with her pistol raised in her good hand. She quickly inspects the decontamination chamber of the ship; it’s completely empty apart from a few crates. The ship is in low power mode, the lights dim and flickering, barely enough to enable them to see properly. The air feels heavy, stale, like the ship itself is holding its breath. Alexis activates an IR scan across her HUD, her eyes narrowing as she sweeps the area. No heat signatures in this room, but several in the next. 

Garrus follows her in, his assault rifle pressed into his shoulder, moving with a practised fluidity. He quickly lowers the rifle once he notices the empty room. He looks at Alexis, his mandibles twitching in mild disapproval. "Don’t want at least some armour?" 

Alexis looks down at herself, only wearing her basic suit and coverings, along with a light helmet with a full glass faceplate. She shrugs, her tone almost dismissive. "He’s one doctor, what’s the worst that could happen? Besides, did you forget I survived an anti-aircraft gun?" 

Garrus lets out a low chuckle, though there's a hint of concern behind his eyes. "Fair point, but still. Even you have limits." 

"Pfft. No, I don’t," Alexis quips, moving across the room, her fingers deftly fiddling with the door controls for a moment. "Not that I’ve reached yet anyway." 

Garrus moves into position, his eyes focused on the door. "Careful or I'll tell Tali," he says, the edge of teasing in his voice unmistakable. 

The Commander glares at the Turian, her lips curving into a smirk under her helmet. "You better not, and I have no idea why you would threaten that." 

Garrus chuckles, a low rumble in his throat. "Like I haven't noticed her slipping into your cabin each night or how the two of you are always touching or holding the other. It's good to have someone like that." His teasing fades into something softer, more genuine—a kindness in his tone that Alexis knows is rare from him. He’s not mocking her; he genuinely appreciates what she and Tali have found in each other. 

Alexis blushes under the helmet, her cheeks growing warm, and she chooses to focus on the task ahead rather than entertain Garrus’s teasing. She presses a final button, and the door slides open with a soft hiss. She steps forward, her movements confident but cautious, Garrus hurriedly following, sweeping the room with his rifle. 

As they step through, the sight before them makes Garrus's eyes widen slowly, his mandibles tightening in a grimace. Lining the walls are tables, each occupied by bodies of various species, all lying in some sort of comatose state. The rhythmic beeping of heart monitors fills the silence, the soft rise and fall of their chests barely visible, the only indication that these people are still alive. The air smells faintly of antiseptic, mixed with something metallic—blood, old and dried. 

Garrus moves closer, standing over an Asari whose abdomen and chest are covered in scarcely healed surgical scars, the table beneath her stained with the evidence of repeated incisions and hasty stitches. His heart sinks as he takes it all in—the cruelty, the callous disregard for life. Each ‘patient’ clings to life by the barest thread, each one a victim of something unspeakable. 

Alexis steps into the room behind him, her expression hardening as her gaze sweeps over the scene. A memory pulls at her, deep and buried, something she wishes she could forget. The room looks too similar to something from her service post-Skyllian Blitz. Not for the same purpose, but close enough that it sends a chill through her. She remembers the sterile scent, the low light, the faces of people strapped to tables just like these—comatose, broken, subjected to the horrors of cruel treatment.

“Let’s keep moving,” Alexis says, her voice tight, clipped. She turns sharply, marching toward the next door, her footsteps echoing off the cold metal floor. Garrus remains stock still for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on the Asari before he pulls himself away, following Alexis as the door hisses open and she steps through.

The duo enters the ship’s main area, a large, open space mostly empty except for the odd crate and stack of supplies. The ship's cockpit is visible further ahead, its door ajar, the room beyond dark and deserted. Alexis pauses, her head tilting slightly, her eyes closing as she focuses, listening. It’s quiet, too quiet—but then, there, just barely audible—the echoes of shouting, frantic and disjointed, coming from deeper within the ship. She opens her eyes, her expression steeling as she glances back at Garrus, nodding for him to take point.

Garrus moves ahead, each step measured, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He keeps his rifle raised, finger poised just above the trigger. The shouting grows louder with each step, a cacophony of voices filled with fear and anger, though the words are still indistinct, muddled by the distance. He reaches the end of the corridor, his mandibles flaring slightly as he presses a control on the side of his visor, switching to thermal imaging. Distinct outlines light up in his HUD—at least ten bodies crowded into the next room, all gathered near something, their heat signatures bright against the cool background. 

Garrus raises his hand to the door’s controls, his heart pounding in his chest. He presses the button, the door sliding open with a sharp hiss. He instantly brings his hand back to his rifle, eyes narrowing, ready for whatever lies beyond. Alexis stands at his side, her pistol raised, her breathing steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The shouts hit them like a wave, the room beyond suddenly alive with chaos, the figures moving erratically, unaware of their new visitors.

Alexis and Garrus exchange a quick glance—no words needed between them. They’ve been here before, countless times. Together, they step into the fray, ready to face whatever awaits them.

Spectre and Turian half-run into the room, quickly slowing to a stop only a few steps past the entrance. The scene they are met with is confusing and horrifying, to say the least. Ten people—five Humans, three Salarians, and two Asari—are hammering on the far door, screaming at something on the other side. Blood streaks the door and surrounding walls, covering each of them up to their elbows. All ten turn at the sound of the door opening, their eyes snapping to Alexis and Garrus immediately.

Alexis quickly assesses each one, her stomach churning as she grows more disturbed with every individual she looks at. The blood covering their arms is their own, their skin worn away from their hands to the point where they are almost pounding on the door with exposed muscle and bone. How long they have been trying to break through is anyone's guess. They are all barely clothed, surgical scars running jagged paths across their torsos—many fresh and many more old. The freshest incisions are barely being held together by stitches, blood pouring down their chests and dripping to the floor beneath them. Green from the Salarians, red from the Humans, and purple from the Asari mix together on the ground, the floor slick with an awful blend of the three.

The look in their eyes speaks to Alexis on a level that she had hoped she would never see again. The last time she had seen it was during deep-strike operations after the Blitz, missions that took her far into Batarian-held space. She had seen that same broken, hollow stare in the eyes of prisoners and slaves they encountered—those they had arrived too late to save. It was the look of people who had endured unimaginable torment, people whose spirit had been shattered beyond repair. The things these individuals had been through had broken them, leaving nothing but desperation and madness in their eyes. Alexis knows, in that instant, that there is no hope for these people. No amount of help or medical care will ever bring them back. If their injuries don’t kill them, their shattered minds will.

The screams change direction, a new target for their fury—Alexis and Garrus. The ten individuals shift their focus, their eyes locking onto the newcomers, their broken voices now filled with raw, animalistic rage. Alexis sees it coming before Garrus can react. She steps forward, her pistol raised, and snaps off precise shots. Her training takes over, each shot hitting centre mass, each person dropping instantly as she pulls the trigger. Ten shots, ten bodies crumple to the floor. She ejects the spent thermal clip, the empty casing clattering against the ground, the sound echoing in the suddenly silent room.

The only sounds left are Alexis's steady breathing and the faint metallic clink of the thermal clip rolling to a stop. Garrus glances at her as he moves out from behind, giving her a brief nod before stepping towards the door that the ten had been so desperate to break through. He is momentarily taken aback by Alexis's swift, efficient display of violence—her movements precise, her expression cold. It’s the kind of decision that Garrus knows he would have struggled to make, and the speed at which she executed it leaves a strange sense of both awe and unease. He, too, had realised that there was no saving these people—no matter how much he might have wanted to believe otherwise. At the very least, Alexis had given them a quick end, and in a place like this, that is likely the closest thing to mercy they would ever find.

Garrus pushes those thoughts aside, his focus narrowing onto the door in front of him. Dr. Saleon must be behind this door. After all the horrors they’ve seen, Garrus needs to face him—to ensure that this monster faces justice for everything he has done.

Alexis follows Garrus across the room, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder before he can start working on the door console. He turns to look at her, her eyes meeting his through the visor of her helmet.

“You ready for this?” she asks, her voice low and serious.

Garrus breathes in, steadying himself before replying. “I’m ready to kill that bastard… but you were right. He needs to face proper justice, and me killing him isn’t it.” He lets out a slow sigh, the tension visibly easing from his shoulders.

“Okay,” Alexis says, drawing her pistol once more. She gives Garrus a firm nod. “Let’s do this.”

Garrus takes a deep breath, moving to the door console. He calls up his omni-tool, running a hacking program to bypass the lock. Alexis stands slightly to the side of the door, her stance ready, her pistol held firmly in her grip. She glances at Garrus one last time as the door begins to slide open, a silent exchange passing between them—an understanding that whatever happens next, they’re in it together.

Alexis rushes through the opening, holding her pistol up and ready to fire. The room they enter is some sort of storage area, crates packed tightly into the space. The Commander's eyes quickly scan the room, noticing a heat signature at the far side through her visor.

"Come out!" Alexis's voice rings out, training her weapon on the target as he slowly rises from his hiding place. A rifle rests in his hands, pointing only slightly away from Alexis herself. "Drop the weapon!"

"Don’t shoot, please!" The Salarian’s voice is terrified, his whole body practically shaking. He looks past Alexis, noticing Garrus as he rises back to his feet and moves into the room along with the dead bodies of his attempted assailants outside. "You killed them all…" He sounds truly thankful for that. "The crew went crazy, tried to attack me. I barely made it in here with my life."

Garrus pitches his voice so only Alexis can hear him, the rage behind his voice evident even from the few words he says. "That’s him, Alexis. He’s Dr. Saleon."

"Kind of seems like you deserve whatever fate they had in mind… Dr. Saleon." Alexis can practically see the façade of gratitude drop from the Salarian’s face at her words, the sudden realisation that they know exactly who he is.

Dr Saleon turns his attention to Garrus, narrowing his eyes at the Turian. "Officer Vakarian… finally tracked me down? Took you long enough."

"I had you back then." Garrus growls his response.

Saleon tutts, "Did you really, though? I heard C-Sec overrode your orders to shoot my ship down. Quite an extreme measure to take out one person."

"If that person was you, I’d give the order every single time."

Alexis can see out of the corner of her eye, Garrus’ finger hovering near the trigger, inching closer at a glacial pace. He is about to make a mistake if she doesn’t do something. "We’re not here to discuss the past, Doctor." Alexis keeps her tone even, trying her best not to spook Saleon into doing something that would inevitably lead to Garrus shooting the Salarian. "We’re here to arrest you."

"Arrest me? HA! On what authority?" He takes one hand off his rifle, vaguely indicating Garrus. "Vakarian here isn’t a part of C-Sec anymore, and I don’t recall the Alliance being made the police of the galaxy. You either have to shoot me or let me go. Your choice." Alexis chuckles, soon turning into loud laughter. "What? What’s so funny?"

"You really don’t know who I am? I’m a Spectre. I could shoot you even if you hadn’t done anything and there’s not really a lot that anyone could do about it. But considering you’ve basically kidnapped, from what I can tell, at least forty people and forced them into illegal surgery along with what I must assume is a form of slavery… I am well within my rights to kill you, no questions asked."

Any mirth that had been on Dr. Saleon’s face instantly drains in that moment. He hesitates for a few seconds, eyes flicking between Spectre and Turian, noting that neither has their weapon pointed away from him. "Then there’s really only one thing I can do, isn’t there?"

Faster than they can react in defence, Saleon brings his rifle up, unleashing a hail of bullets at his two aggressors. Alexis and Garrus dive behind boxes, bullets flying over their heads. Alexis carefully moves to one edge, taking a peek out. Her eyes widen at the scene that is before her. Saleon has his rifle, but he has also brought two turrets to bear against them, the bullets flying at them almost like a thick cloud.

Garrus lets out a breath of exasperation and yells above the noise, "I really wish you’d just let me shoot him!"

"No, you don’t!" Alexis looks down at her body, frowning. "You know, I really do regret not wearing heavier armour now." She takes another peek, looking back at Garrus straight after with an odd look on her face, holstering her pistol. "Cover me, will you?"

"Cover you for what?"

Garrus asks as Alexis quickly brings up her omni-tool, her fingers moving with practised precision. The interface lights up in front of her, and she scans the area for any active access ports. Spotting one embedded near the base of a wall-mounted turret, she initiates a secure connection. Her omni-tool's screen flickers as Tali’s programs boot up, their distinctive Quarian code running lines of data across the display.

The script Tali had written is complex, a testament to her incredible skill. Alexis bites her lip in concentration, watching as the code worms its way into the security protocols. Lines of Khelish scroll by, interspersed with glyphs that denote subsystems of the turrets. Each subsystem flashes as it becomes accessible—targeting, ammunition, control mechanisms. Alexis selects the override, Tali's programs weaving through the firewalls, bypassing security locks with a deftness that Alexis can’t help but admire.

The seconds feel like hours as Alexis kneels there, her heart pounding in her ears. The turrets continue to lay down heavy fire, pinning them behind the crates. Garrus keeps his rifle up, occasionally popping up to fire a few return shots, drawing some of the heat away from Alexis. He spares a quick glance in her direction, his mandibles twitching in what she can only assume is a mix of concern and focus.

"Anytime now, Shepard!" Garrus shouts, his voice barely audible over the deafening rounds ricocheting off metal surfaces.

"Working on it!" she yells back, her eyes narrowing as she refocuses on the task. One of the firewalls fights back, the digital representation of a locked gate barring her entry. Alexis huffs in frustration, rerouting her attempt through an alternative access point. The program digs in, Tali’s meticulous work shining through as the lock begins to unravel.

“Almost… got it…” she mutters to herself, her fingers a blur as they input the final sequence. Her omni-tool chirps in confirmation, and Alexis allows herself a small smile as she finally gains control of the turrets.

“Shutdown sequence initiated,” she says aloud, her voice filled with determination. She executes the command, and the turrets abruptly halt, their barrels whirring as they power down. The sudden cessation of gunfire leaves a ringing in her ears, the room almost unnervingly quiet in its aftermath.

The moment they stop firing, Alexis springs to her feet, her body reacting before her mind even has a chance to consider the danger. She rushes towards Saleon, vaulting over a barrier as she makes her way across the room. Remnants of crates are strewn about the deactivated turrets, clearly set up to conceal them until Saleon needed them. It’s clear now that Saleon had planned for this, for the possibility that his victims might turn on him one day—creating a makeshift panic room equipped to mow them down if they ever tried.

But now, his last line of defence is gone, and Alexis isn’t about to give him another chance.

She reaches the Salarian, her body in motion like a well-oiled machine. With a powerful leap, Alexis vaults over a final barrier, delivering a swift, brutal strike to Saleon’s chest. The force of the blow sends him staggering backward, his head slamming into the metal wall with a dull thud. His eyes widen in shock before his legs give out, and he slides down the wall, collapsing in a heap at its base.

Alexis stands over him, her breathing heavy, her heart pounding from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. For a moment, the room is utterly silent, save for the faint sound of her exhalations and Saleon’s laboured breaths. She watches as the once-arrogant doctor lays crumpled on the floor, all fight drained from him.

Garrus rises from his cover only moments behind Alexis, but that's enough time for him to find Alexis standing there with her hands on her hips, taking deep breaths, sweat dripping from her face.

"You can… come out now," she says, her voice strained but steady.

The Turian slowly approaches, holstering his rifle as he comes to stand next to Alexis. "I was worried for a moment there, but I forgot you can handle hacking as well. Normally, I just leave it to Tali."

Alexis shrugs. "She's much better at it than I am. I was just using her programs. Plus, I'm handy enough with a gun that I don't need to be fumbling my way through hacking."

Garrus moves to stand over Dr. Saleon’s body. "Is he dead?"

The Commander squats down, feeling for a pulse on the Salarian. "He shouldn't be. I didn’t hit him that hard." She finds it—weak but still there. "Still alive." She stands back up. "I'll let you have the honour of arresting him, Officer Vakarian."

Garrus stands there for a minute, looking down at the man he’d given up hope of ever catching. In the Turian’s opinion, not catching Dr. Saleon had been one of the very few failings of his C-Sec career. He'd been ready to kill him this time, but Alexis had stopped him. Hell, she hadn’t let him do much of anything since they boarded the ship. She’d killed the ten deranged patients; she’d thrown herself into the path of two turrets and an assault rifle to stop the doctor.

"Hey, Shepard." She turns at the door, looking back at Garrus, who’s staring down at the floor. "Why didn’t you want me to kill him?"

Alexis thinks for a moment, trying to find the best way to explain it, eventually settling on a simple question. "How many people have you killed, Garrus?"

He looks up at the question, blinking a few times and fluttering his mandibles in confusion. "Uhhh… before I met you, three? Now, probably about twenty."

"Do you regret any of those?"

He stands up straighter. "The ones who served Saren? Hell no."

"And the ones that didn’t?"

Garrus thinks back on the three he'd killed before joining Alexis on the crusade to stop Saren and the Reapers. All of them had been during his C-Sec days—criminals who’d forced his and other officers' hands into gunning them down. They’d all been threatening either C-Sec or civilian lives. Garrus had never truly thought back on any of them, never really considered his actions as anything but justified. Now that he really thinks on it, maybe there was cause for doubt, cause for regret in how he'd handled those situations.

"A little bit."

Alexis nods. "That regret never goes away, trust me." She takes a shaky breath. "I stopped counting a while ago."

Garrus looks at her with a mixture of concern and shock.

"I’m twenty-seven, twenty-eight in a few months. And I’m still dealing with all of the things I’ve done." She crosses her arms over her chest, forcing herself to bare some of her pain to Garrus. She couldn’t let him go down the same path she had. He was too good for that. "When I stopped, the number was over a hundred."

The Turian looks her dead in the eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I’m telling you because I know for a fact that killing him won’t do anything for you. Killing him will only add to the guilt and the regret. Does he deserve it for all the things he’s done? Maybe. But you shouldn’t have to be the one who makes that call. That’s what the criminal courts are for. Do they always work? No, but it’s the best we’ve got."

Garrus stands there for a moment, taking it all in. He respects Alexis immensely, even after only knowing her for around two months. Hearing what she’d done shakes him a bit; he can't deny that. But he also sees the wisdom in her words. Killing Saleon would gain him nothing. He reaches down, picking up the unconscious Salarian and throwing him over his shoulder. He makes his way to Alexis’s side. "Thanks, Shepard."

"Anytime." Alexis smiles at him, hopeful that he’ll take her advice on board.

They make their way back to the airlock and onto the Normandy, radioing through to a nearby Alliance outpost with the ship’s location and its contents. The outpost confirms they’ll send a detachment to collect the vessel and provide any aid to the occupants they can. Alexis wants to help, but she knows the Normandy doesn't have the staff, facilities, or supplies to truly help anyone still alive on board.

Alexis strides into the cockpit of the Normandy, briefly turning around and watching Garrus take Dr. Saleon toward the ship’s brig. "Take us back to the Citadel, Joker."

Joker turns his chair slightly, a mischievous grin already spreading across his face. "Yes, ma’am. But, uh… you might want to prepare yourself. Tali contacted me while you were out, and let’s just say… she didn’t seem too impressed."

Alexis blinks, a flash of worry crossing her face before she sighs, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Great… I’m blaming Garrus for this and hoping for the best."

Joker lets out a bark of laughter. "Oh, that’s cold, Commander. Throwing your favourite Turian under the bus like that?"

"Hey, he’s the one who dragged me out here on a revenge mission. He can take the heat," Alexis replies, crossing her arms in mock defiance, though there’s an affectionate smile playing on her lips.

"You know, I gotta say, you two make quite the team. Garrus does the brooding vengeance thing, and you do the whole 'talking him down' part. It’s like a buddy cop drama, only with more galactic consequences and fewer doughnuts."

Alexis chuckles, shaking her head. "I’ll take that as a compliment, Joker. Just make sure we don’t hit anything on our way back. I’ve got enough to deal with without adding ship repairs to the list."

Joker holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I’m the best pilot in the Alliance. You just keep people from tearing each other apart, and I’ll handle the flying."

Alexis turns to leave the cockpit, throwing one last look over her shoulder. "Just get us home, Jeff. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll owe you one."

Joker grins widely, spinning his chair back around to face the controls. "You heard her, Normandy. Let’s bring it home."

As the Normandy begins to pull away, Joker can’t help but glance back at Alexis, his smile softening just a bit. Despite all the chaos, despite the danger they faced every day, there was a sense of comfort in knowing they were still here, still fighting, still looking out for each other.

"And here we go," he mutters, his hands deftly moving across the console, guiding the ship back to the Citadel. "Another day, another pissed-off Quarian… all in a day’s work."

In the corridor, Alexis shakes her head, a small, genuine smile on her lips. Tali’s anger might be something she had to face, but it was worth it. She wouldn’t let Garrus lose himself to vengeance, not if she could help it. And as for Tali… she’d just have to hope that her favourite Quarian was willing to accept Garrus getting thrown in the line of fire for the blame.

~~~~

Alexis avoids meeting Doctor Chakwas's eyes, her own firmly shut as the doctor works. Chakwas had insisted on a final scan of Alexis's arm before even considering taking off the medi-cast. Alexis had complained that it’d already been more than two weeks—the period the doctor had promised she would be free of this particular restraint. Chakwas only had to remind her of the conversation they’d had before Ilos, and of all the people on the Normandy, she was the only one who could officially tell Alexis what to do, and she actually had to follow that order. Alexis had been tempted to try cutting the cast off herself at one point, but stopped when she quickly realised she’d be more likely to injure herself doing it.

The last scan had shown exactly what Alexis wanted it to: the bones in her forearm and hand completely healed. Chakwas had relented in her insistence that Alexis keep it on for a day or two longer, knowing the Commander would likely seek another way to get it off—probably from one of the other crew members.

She looks over at her arm, ecstatic to see it free of the cast once again. She lifts it up, flexing her fingers and wrist every which way, satisfied that there isn’t any permanent damage to her ability to manoeuvre it.

As Alexis begins to rise, Chakwas’s voice and a firm grip on her arm stop her. “Just a minute, Commander. I need to do one last inspection of your arm before I can discharge you.”

Alexis instantly protests, “But the scan showed I was healed!”

“Your bones, yes. I need to make sure your muscles haven’t been adversely affected. And also, to make sure your sojourn with our Turian crewmate didn’t do any damage as well.”

Alexis huffs, a hint of embarrassment creeping into her tone. “As long as you don’t put the cast back on.” She sighs, sitting back down in the chair and offering her arm to the doctor. She closes her eyes as Chakwas works, prodding in various spots up and down her limb. To Alexis's surprise, there isn’t any pain whatsoever. She’d honestly been expecting something to have gone awry with her recovery, given her luck with injuries. She’d overdone it a bit on Dr Saleon’s ship a week ago, genuinely afraid that she might have re-injured herself.

After a few minutes, Doctor Chakwas writes a few things on her datapad, sitting back in her chair and looking over her notes. She glances up at Alexis, watching the anticipation building in the Commander’s expression, wondering how long it will take before it turns into desperation. The older woman lets her sweat for a few moments longer before relenting. “You’re all good to go, Shepard. I would recommend not having your arm crushed by falling Reaper debris anytime soon though. Or crushed by anything, for that matter.”

Alexis laughs as she seals her suit fully again, now cast-free. “I mean, it’s not on my to-do list, but you never know.”

Chakwas sighs. “You worry me sometimes, Shepard.”

“That’s what makes you such a great doctor.” Alexis stands up, smiling. “Thanks, Doctor.” She makes it all the way to the door before pausing, a thought crossing her mind. She turns back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Joker suggested we all go out to celebrate my cast coming off a couple of weeks back. Seeing as we’re near the Citadel with no current mission, what’d you say, Doc?”

The doctor chuckles, shaking her head. “I think I’ll leave the partying and celebration to the younger members of the crew. I’m well past my partying years, I think.”

“Nonsense, you’re still in your prime!” Alexis’s jovial tone spreads the smile a little further across Chakwas’s face. “They'll probably head out tonight. Offer still stands if you change your mind.”

“Thank you, Commander. I’ll think about it.”

Alexis nods, satisfied that was all the answer she was going to get out of the doctor. She marches out of the medbay, careful to keep her previously casted arm behind her back as she rounds the corner towards the mess hall. The entire crew stands waiting there, all of them trying to see behind her back to see if they would be granted shore leave for the evening. Alexis had kept them in suspense the entire time, saying that she would only approve it if she could also come with them.

She stands in front of them all, left arm still hidden behind her back. They go silent, waiting for her to say something. Alexis only smiles slightly, enjoying the look on all of their faces. Finally, Joker breaks the silence, his voice dripping with impatience, “Come on, Shepard, are we drinking or not?”

The Commander raises an eyebrow at the pilot, Joker narrowing his eyes in response, clearly unamused by the drawn-out suspense. She finally gives up the ruse, raising both arms above her head rapidly.

Cheers erupt from the assembled crew, echoing through the mess hall as excited chatter breaks out. Alexis grins, shouting above the noise, “This does not mean I am buying any of you drinks! You can all get your own!” A few playful boos meet her statement, and Alexis shakes her head with a smirk. “Oh boo yourselves! We’re going at 1900, be ready or we’re leaving without you!”

The crew disperses back to their stations, Alexis glad she doesn’t have to hurry them along to do it. They aren’t quite in the vicinity of the Citadel yet, and Joker will need to pilot them to the station if they actually all want to go out. That means the crew has to at least work a little today, even if none of them will be in a fit state to do it tomorrow.

Joker moves past Alexis, still grinning ear to ear. “We gonna see you at the club then, Shepard?”

“You wish,” Alexis quips back, giving him a teasing look. “I’m going to head to the Quarian quarter to show Tali some of the Quarian bars I know.”

Joker raises an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. “Sure that’s all you’ll be doing?” He winks, his voice heavy with suggestion.

Alexis rolls her eyes, feeling the blush rise beneath her helmet, her voice dropping to a dry mutter. “Yeah, yeah, keep talking, Joker. One of these days, your mouth is gonna write a check your ass can’t cash.”

Joker laughs, the sound echoing down the hallway as he walks back to the cockpit, the amusement clear in his voice. “Not my fault you make it so easy, Commander!”

Alexis watches him go, shaking her head, her lips pulling into a fond smile. She knows Joker well enough to understand it’s his way of showing he cares. The crew’s excitement is infectious, and despite herself, Alexis feels that buzz of energy too. She’s looking forward to tonight, even if it means enduring Joker’s teasing. As she heads towards her cabin to get ready, she feels lighter than she has in weeks. Tonight, for once, it’s about enjoying a moment with her crew—with her friends—and leaving behind the burdens of command, even if just for a few hours.

Once alone, Alexis moves out of sight, waiting until her door has closed behind her before letting out a breath of relief. She hasn’t gone out with friends in years. If she’s honest with herself, her nerves are getting to her. Throughout her military career, she could count on one hand the number of times she’d felt nervous before a mission. And now, she’s getting that same feeling at the prospect of going out on shore leave, especially with the fact that it will likely just be her and Tali. She knows this isn’t a mission, but it feels like more of one than when bullets are flying at her face.

She sits down at her desk, quickly going through the reports that Hackett had sent over about Geth sightings. After their shore leave on the Citadel, Alexis will be taking the Normandy straight out to deal with the Geth that have been spotted in various places around the galaxy. While it isn’t directly related to the Reapers, even she has to admit it’s the next closest thing. At least until Hackett and Anderson can convince everyone to truly devote resources to preparing for their arrival, Alexis will do anything she can to help that goal along.

One report in particular catches her eye. Geth have been seen repeatedly visiting a site of Prothean ruins, barely spending more than a few hours there before quickly leaving again. The Alliance's assessment of that particular sighting sets it at a lower priority than those where the Geth are present in greater numbers. To Alexis, something feels strange about it—she just can’t quite put her finger on it. The more she digs into it, the less sense it makes.

All the readings the Alliance has received are mismatched at best, downright contradictory at worst. Some say the Geth deployed only a few standard trooper units, others report entire squads of Armatures, and another again mentions a Colossus and rocket troopers. All the reports are timestamped within three days of each other. She makes a note to flag it for more attention by Alliance scans. Maybe they can sort through the discrepancies and determine what’s really happening there. The Geth have to be doing something important—Alexis knows it in her gut.

She continues looking over the reports, making notes on various others to indicate how important she feels they are before sending them through to Alliance command.

Once Alexis looks up from the reports, she realises it’s almost time to leave the Normandy. Panic and excitement flood her senses as she scrambles into action. In a flurry of movement, she dives for her dresser, her hands grabbing for a nicer clothing layer to go atop her undersuit. It's still her classic black and red combo, but with a distinct flair that speaks to her heritage—the intricate Quarian design unmistakable, with fine patterns and swirling lines that tell the story of her roots. She runs her fingers over the fabric for a moment, a small smile tugging at her lips. The design is bold, a visual declaration of the ties she feels so deeply. She throws the layer on, letting it settle comfortably against her undersuit. Before leaving, Alexis spots her leather jacket hanging nearby. She hesitates, then grabs it, swinging it on as she hurries out of her cabin. The weight of it on her shoulders feels just right—adding a bit of casual swagger, something that makes her feel more confident. Her heart pounds, not just from the rush, but from a bubbling sense of excitement at the thought of what lies ahead—a real night out, with Tali.

Alexis quickly moves past the empty mess hall and up the stairs to the CIC, her boots making soft thuds against the metal floor. She spots the last few members of the Normandy’s crew already walking out the airlock, and lengthens her strides to catch up, determined not to keep Tali waiting. As she climbs the last few steps, she hears familiar footsteps behind her, turning just in time to catch Tali moving toward her, focused on her omni-tool.

“Sorry, lost track of time, I’m here…” Tali trails off as she finally looks up, finding Alexis grinning down at her.

Alexis takes a moment to appreciate the sight before her. Tali’s suit glistens in the low light of the ship, the soft glow of her bioluminescent freckles barely visible through her visor. It makes Alexis's heart skip a beat.

"Don't worry, I did the same," Alexis says, her smile widening as she catches the way Tali’s eyes seem to linger, taking in her appearance. She can feel Tali’s gaze move over the leather jacket, her eyes settling on Alexis’s face.

Tali just stares into Alexis’s eyes for a moment, her own expression softening. It’s enough to make Alexis blush under her helmet, a warmth spreading across her cheeks. She shifts slightly, clearing her throat.

“You good, Tali?” Alexis asks, her voice coming out softer than she intends, the words filled with affection.

Tali blinks, shaking her head slightly as if to snap herself out of her thoughts. “Yeah, sorry,” she says, her tone almost shy. She takes a step closer, giving Alexis a small smile. “Let’s go.” She climbs the steps, brushing her hand lightly against Alexis’s arm as she passes, her touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

Alexis watches after her for a second, her heart fluttering in her chest, before she follows her off the Normandy. The two descend from the ramp, waving to the rest of the crew as they head off in a different direction, taking a separate route toward the Quarian quarter in the lower levels of the Citadel.

The Citadel is alive with the evening bustle, and Alexis finds herself drawn to Tali’s side, her hand reaching out almost instinctively until her fingers intertwine with Tali’s. The warmth of her touch, even through both of their suits, sends a sense of calm through Alexis. She feels Tali give her hand a gentle squeeze, and it’s like everything else fades away, leaving just the two of them in this moment.

“So, where are you planning to take me?” Tali asks, her curiosity evident as she tilts her head slightly, her helmet catching the light of the neon signs they pass. The slow-moving elevator they find themselves in gives them a moment of privacy, a bubble away from the hectic energy of the Citadel.

Alexis grins, glancing over at Tali. “Was thinking Rosin's,” she says, her thumb brushing softly against the back of Tali’s hand. “He has a nice, quiet bar thing going on. We can get something to drink and not have to shout over the music just to hear ourselves think.” Her voice is soft, but there’s a glint of excitement in her eyes as she watches Tali’s expression.

Tali looks at her for a moment, her eyes flickering between Alexis’s face and their intertwined hands. “You’ve thought this through,” she says, her voice holding a hint of amusement. There’s a warmth in her tone that makes Alexis’s chest tighten, her heart swelling with affection.

“I might have,” Alexis admits, her grin turning almost bashful. “Worked there when I was younger… just before I enlisted.” She glances away for a moment, her eyes following the passing lights of the Citadel beyond the glass elevator walls. “Figured it might be nice to go back there. Especially with you.” Her voice softens as she finishes, her gaze returning to Tali.

Tali’s eyes widen slightly, and she’s quiet for a moment, taking it in. There’s something tender in her expression as she looks at Alexis. “I… I think that sounds perfect,” she says, her voice just above a whisper. She takes a step closer to Alexis, their arms brushing as she leans against her ever so slightly. Alexis feels her breath catch, her heart pounding in her ears.

The elevator finally dings, the doors sliding open, and the sound of the bustling Citadel floods back in, pulling them out of the moment. Alexis gives Tali’s hand one last squeeze before leading her out, guiding her through the crowds with an ease that comes from years of experience navigating these lower levels.

Rosin’s Bar sits tucked away from the main thoroughfare, its exterior modest compared to the louder venues nearby. A simple sign glows softly above the door, the letters curved in an elegant Khelish script. Alexis pauses in front of the entrance, turning to Tali with a small smile.

“Here we are. It’s not much, but it’s got charm,” Alexis says, a hint of nervousness creeping into her tone. She had always liked this place, and now, more than ever, she wants Tali to like it too.

Tali looks up at the sign, her eyes scanning the place before turning back to Alexis, her smile visible in her voice. “It’s perfect,” she says, her tone sincere, and Alexis feels a wave of relief wash over her.

She opens the door, leading Tali inside. The atmosphere is cosy, the lighting dim and warm, casting a soft glow over the patrons scattered around the bar. A few heads, most helmeted, turn as they enter, curious glances lingering for a moment before people turn back to their drinks and conversations. Alexis guides Tali to a small booth tucked into the corner, away from the main crowd, sliding into the seat across from her.

“So, this is where you worked?” Tali asks, her voice filled with curiosity as she looks around, taking in the details—the polished bar counter, the shelves lined with bottles, the soft murmur of conversation blending with the low music playing in the background.

Alexis nods, her smile widening. “Yeah, it was… quite a few years ago now. Rosin was kind enough to give me a job, even when not a lot of places would.” Her gaze drifts for a moment, her eyes softening as she remembers. “I was just a kid back then, but he didn’t care. Said everyone deserved a chance. Plus, kept me out of trouble when my mum was working the shipyards.”

Tali listens, her eyes on Alexis, and there’s a softness to her expression, an understanding that goes beyond words. “I’m glad he did,” she says after a moment. “Otherwise… maybe you wouldn’t have ended up where you are now. Maybe we wouldn’t be here now.”

Alexis looks at her, her heart swelling at the words. She reaches across the table, her hand finding Tali’s, their fingers intertwining once more. “Maybe,” she agrees, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m glad we’re here now, though.”

The bartender—an older Quarian with a kind face behind his helmet—approaches their table, a smile spreading across his features as he recognises Alexis. “Well, well, if it isn’t little Lexi. Back from saving the galaxy to visit little ol’ Rosin’s, eh?” he says, his voice warm and teasing.

Alexis chuckles, leaning back slightly in her seat. “Had to come back and see if you were still serving the best drinks in the lower levels, Rosin,” she replies, her tone light.

Rosin’s gaze shifts to Tali, and his smile softens. “And you’ve brought company this time. What can I get for you two?”

Tali looks at Alexis, and Alexis nods, giving her the go-ahead. Tali glances up at Rosin. “I’ll have whatever she’s having,” she says, her tone confident.

Alexis grins. “Two of your special Quarian cocktails, then. You remember how to make them, right?”

Rosin laughs. “For you, Alexis? I’ll see what I can do.” He gives them both a nod before heading back to the bar.

Tali raises an eyebrow. “Special Quarian cocktail?” she asks, her curiosity piqued.

Alexis leans forward, her smile turning mischievous. “You’ll see. It’s something I came up with back when I was working here. Rosin would let me experiment when it was a slow night. Let’s just say it’s got a bit of a kick to it.”

Tali tilts her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Should I be worried?”

“Maybe,” Alexis says, her grin widening. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you survive it.” She winks, and Tali lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

The two fall into easy conversation, the noise of the bar fading into the background as they talk, their hands still linked across the table. For Alexis, this moment feels like something out of a dream—something she never thought she’d have. Here, in this quiet bar that had once been a place of refuge for her, she finds herself feeling something she hasn’t felt in a long time: contentment. She looks at Tali, seeing the warmth in her eyes, the way the dim light catches her features, and realises that this—right here, right now—might be the happiest she’s ever been.

Soon, Rosin returns with two tall vials filled with a swirling, iridescent liquid. He sets them down with a flourish, giving Alexis a playful nod. “Just like old times, Alexis. Hope you’re ready for a blast from the past.”

Alexis picks up her vial, lifting it toward Tali. “To old memories… and making new ones,” she says, her eyes locking with Tali’s, her voice filled with sincerity.

Tali lifts her own vial, her gaze never leaving Alexis’s. “To us,” she adds, her voice soft, but the meaning behind it clear.

They clink their vials together, the sound soft and intimate amidst the noise of the bar. Alexis takes a sip through the port on the bottom of her helmet, the familiar burn and warmth of the cocktail spreading through her, and she watches as Tali does the same, her eyes widening slightly at the unexpected strength of the drink.

“Oh, Keelah,” Tali says, her voice breathless as she lowers her vial, blinking at Alexis. “That definitely has a kick to it.”

Alexis laughs, the sound bright and filled with joy. “Told you,” she says, her grin widening.

Tali shakes her head, her laughter joining Alexis’s. She reaches across the table, her fingers brushing against Alexis’s hand before she takes it again, their hands resting together between them. “I think I like it,” she admits, her voice soft.

Alexis’s heart swells at the words, her thumb brushing gently over Tali’s knuckles. “Good,” she says, her voice barely audible over the background noise. “Because I think I like you.”

Tali’s eyes soften, her gaze holding Alexis’s for a long moment before she leans a little closer, her voice just above a whisper. “I think I like you too, Alexis.”

And in that moment, amidst the warmth of the bar, the laughter of its patrons, and the soft glow of lights, Alexis feels something she hasn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time—hope. Hope for a future that isn’t just about fighting and surviving, but about living. About finding moments like this one, moments filled with love, laughter, and Tali by her side.

The warmth of the bar wraps around them like a comforting embrace, and the conversation between Alexis and Tali flows effortlessly. Time seems to slow, the dim lights casting soft shadows across their booth as they laugh and share stories. Alexis finds herself completely immersed in Tali's presence, the bar's soft hum of activity fading into a gentle background noise. But then, a familiar melody begins to play—one of those Quarian songs that Alexis remembers from her childhood.

It’s a slow tune, haunting and beautiful, with a steady rhythm that resonates deep in Alexis’s chest. She glances toward the small dance floor, a few patrons already swaying to the music, their bodies moving together in a comfortable intimacy. Alexis looks back at Tali, her fingers tightening slightly around hers as she gets an idea. Her heart beats faster as she gathers the courage to speak.

“Hey, Tali?” Alexis's voice is soft, her eyes meeting Tali’s across the table. There’s a glint of something playful in her gaze, an invitation.

Tali tilts her head slightly, curiosity shining through her visor. “Yes, Alexis?”

Alexis smiles, a gentle, almost shy expression crossing her face. “Dance with me?” she asks, her voice barely audible, as if the request carries more weight than just a simple dance. She stands, extending her hand out to Tali, her eyes never leaving hers.

For a moment, Tali is silent, and then her entire posture softens. She looks at Alexis’s outstretched hand before slipping her own into it, allowing Alexis to help her up. The warmth that passes between them, even through their gloves, is enough to make Alexis's heart swell.

“I’d love to,” Tali says, her voice barely a whisper.

Alexis guides Tali to the small dance floor, the ambient glow of the bar lights making the space feel almost dreamlike. The music fills the air around them, and as they step onto the dance floor, Alexis turns to face Tali. She moves closer, her free hand coming to rest on Tali’s waist. Tali’s three-fingered hand settles on Alexis’s shoulder, and they begin to sway gently to the rhythm of the song.

The world around them fades, and for a moment, there is nothing but the soft music, the gentle sway of their bodies, and the warmth that flows between them. Alexis looks down into Tali’s visor, their eyes meeting through the reflective surface. It’s an intimate feeling, one that makes Alexis’s heart race and her breath hitch in her chest.

“You’re a good dancer,” Tali murmurs, her voice soft, almost teasing. Alexis smiles, her hand on Tali’s waist pulling her just a bit closer.

“I’ve had a bit of practice,” Alexis admits, her voice filled with warmth. “My mum taught me, said it is a useful skill to know.” She chuckles softly, her gaze locking onto Tali’s. “I’ve never danced like this, though. Not with anyone I care about this much.”

Tali’s fingers tighten slightly on Alexis’s shoulder, her other hand still resting in Alexis’s palm. She leans in closer, their helmets touching, the gesture intimate and tender. “I’m glad I’m the first,” she whispers, her voice filled with emotion, the kind that Alexis feels deep in her bones.

Alexis closes her eyes for a moment, just feeling the warmth between them, the steady rhythm of their bodies moving in sync. She knows that in a life filled with danger and uncertainty, this is a moment she will cherish forever—a moment that reminds her why she fights, why she keeps going.

The music swells, and Alexis opens her eyes, looking at Tali once more. She moves her hand from Tali’s waist to her back, pulling her even closer as they sway. “You mean a lot to me, Tali,” she says, her voice barely audible over the music.

“You mean a lot to me too, Alexis,” Tali responds, her voice soft and sincere.

They continue to sway together, their movements slow and deliberate, the world around them forgotten. Alexis feels the warmth of Tali’s body against hers, the gentle pressure of her hands, and the steady beat of the music that seems to echo the beating of her heart. In this moment, there is nothing else—no missions, no threats, no galaxy that needs saving. There is only Tali, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, they can find moments like this again, even amidst the chaos.

The song transitions into another slow melody, and Alexis can feel the shift in the music, a gentle ebb that matches the rhythm of her heartbeat. She looks at Tali, her eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and longing. She feels Tali relax against her, the Quarian's body leaning into hers in a way that makes Alexis feel like they are the only two people in the galaxy.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Tali asks suddenly, her voice a soft murmur, her head tilted slightly to rest against Alexis's.

Alexis chuckles, the sound vibrating between them. “How could I forget? You were all fire and fury, determined to prove yourself.” She smiles, her eyes softening as she looks at Tali. “I remember thinking how amazing you were, how brave. I think… I admired you from the start.”

Tali lets out a soft laugh, her hand tightening slightly around Alexis's shoulder. “I was terrified,” she admits, her voice almost lost in the music. “I was so worried that I’d mess up, that I wouldn’t be good enough.” She looks up, her gaze meeting Alexis’s. “But you made me feel like I was. You still do.”

Alexis’s heart swells at the words, her eyes stinging slightly as she blinks back the emotion building within her. She leans in closer, her forehead resting against Tali’s visor, her voice barely above a whisper. “You are more than good enough, Tali. You’re everything.”

Tali is silent for a moment, her breath catching, and Alexis can see the way her eyes soften, the way her body seems to relax even more into her. She lifts her hand from Alexis’s shoulder, resting it gently against her cheek through the visor, the gesture filled with tenderness. “You always know what to say,” Tali whispers, her voice filled with emotion. “Keelah, Alexis… I—”

Before she can finish, Alexis shakes her head gently, her eyes never leaving Tali’s. “You don’t have to say anything,” she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. “I know.”

The music seems to wrap around them, the melody a gentle reminder of the moment they are sharing. Alexis feels the weight of everything—their journey, the battles they’ve fought, the losses they’ve endured. But here, with Tali in her arms, it all feels worth it. Every hardship, every sacrifice, has led to this moment, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

As the song comes to an end, Alexis pulls back slightly, her hand still resting on Tali’s back. She looks into Tali’s eyes, her own gaze filled with emotion. “Thank you for this,” she says, her voice filled with sincerity.

Tali smiles beneath her visor, her hand giving Alexis’s a gentle squeeze. “No, thank you, Alexis. For everything.”

The next song begins to play, a soft, slow tune that seems to perfectly capture the warmth between them. Alexis leans in, pressing her helmet lightly against Tali’s, the gesture as close to a kiss as their suits will allow. “To more moments like this,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly.

Tali’s eyes shine, her gaze never leaving Alexis’s. “To us,” she whispers back, her voice filled with hope.

And as they sway together, wrapped in each other’s arms, Alexis feels something shift within her—something that fills her with a sense of peace she hasn’t felt in a long time. Here, in the warmth of Rosin’s bar, with the woman she loves in her arms, Alexis allows herself to hope. To believe in a future that is not just about fighting and surviving, but about living. About love.

The dance floor slowly fills with other patrons, the music drawing more couples to sway together, but Alexis and Tali remain in their own little world, oblivious to the others. They dance through song after song, their movements slow and unhurried, savouring the closeness, the connection.

After what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, Tali lets out a soft sigh, her fingers brushing against Alexis’s arm. “We should probably let the others know we’re still alive,” she says, her tone light, teasing.

Alexis chuckles, nodding slightly. “Yeah, they’re probably wondering if we’ve gotten into trouble.” She looks at Tali, her eyes softening. “But I wouldn’t mind staying here forever.”

Tali’s eyes soften, her hand giving Alexis’s a gentle squeeze. “Neither would I,” she admits, her voice filled with emotion. “But we’ll have more moments like this. I promise.”

Alexis smiles, her heart swelling at the words. She nods, leaning in to rest her forehead against Tali’s for a moment longer before finally stepping back, her hand still holding Tali’s. “Let’s go, then. Before they send a search party.”

Tali laughs, the sound bright and filled with joy. Together, they make their way off the dance floor, their hands still linked, their hearts full. And as they leave the warmth of the bar, Alexis knows that this is just the beginning—just one of many moments she will share with Tali, in a life filled not just with battles, but with love, laughter, and hope for the future.

 

Chapter 17: XVII

Summary:

Geth facility battle and ambush!

Notes:

HERE WE GO!
This was so hard to write, I kept having to stop due to tears.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XVII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The air in the cavern is thick with smoke and the acrid scent of burning circuits as Alexis ducks behind a jagged piece of rock. Sparks burst around her, and a rain of bullets pounds her cover, each impact echoing through the underground battlefield. She lets out a growl, eyes narrowing behind her visor, as she lines up her next shot. Her assault rifle's barrel heats up as she squeezes off a burst of fire, each bullet finding its mark in the chassis of a nearby Geth. The synthetic's head bursts apart in a flash of blue light and sparking metal, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.

"'It’s probably bad intel, there’ll be nothing there,'" Liara shouts, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm as she mimics Shepard’s earlier assurance.

The Commander can’t help the laugh that escapes her, despite the chaos around them. She leans her back against the rock, taking a moment to reload. "Come on, how was I supposed to know this would be the Geth’s main staging area for the sector? The last five spots barely had a single trooper!" She primes a grenade, waiting just long enough before tossing it backwards, sending it arcing over her cover. "Besides, don’t deny you’re having fun!"

"Your definition of fun and mine differ greatly, Shepard!" Liara mutters, edging around their makeshift cover. She fires off two quick rounds from her pistol before ducking back as retaliatory fire streaks past her. The plasma bolts impact against the rock, sending shards splintering around them.

Alexis glances around, her gaze sweeping over the cavern and her scattered squadmates. They’re pinned down, each huddled behind whatever they can find. Ashley and Tali are to her right, positioned behind a series of mining carts, trying their best to draw attention away from the biotics in the centre. Farther back, Wrex and Garrus take cover behind fallen metal beams, the Krogan's booming laugh echoing over the gunfire while Garrus works with steady precision.

"How’s that hack coming, Tali?" Alexis calls out, her voice almost drowned out by the unrelenting barrage of Geth fire.

"It’s… coming!" Tali’s voice crackles over the comms, her fingers a blur on her omni-tool. Her frustration is evident, the guttural mutterings in Khelish a sure sign she’s being pushed to her limits. The network of Geth is unlike any she's faced before, the complexity of their interconnected defenses a labyrinth she fights to navigate. Her eyes dart across her HUD, sweat beading beneath her helmet. This was the hardest firewall she’d ever tackled—like she’d stepped into a digital hornet’s nest.

Alexis steps out of cover, braving a storm of incoming fire. She fires in short, controlled bursts, her heart pounding in her ears as she drops another Geth. But for every one she destroys, two more seem to take its place, each emerging from the labyrinthine corridors that snake throughout the underground cavern. The squad had underestimated this. They had thought they were coming into a minor Geth presence, but instead, it had become a battle for survival.

A sudden deep hum fills the cavern, and Alexis glances at Liara beside her, seeing her eyes closed in concentration. The blue tendrils of biotic energy coil around her like serpents, and with a forceful thrust of her hand, a singularity blossoms out into the air—a swirling, pulsating mass of dark energy. It catches several Geth in its wake, their mechanical limbs flailing uselessly as they’re yanked off the ground and pulled into the vortex. Even an Armature, hulking and imposing, is affected, its massive legs creaking as it is dragged upward, its frame crumpling.

"Now!" Liara yells, her arm still extended, her whole body vibrating with the exertion.

Wrex doesn’t need to be told twice. He steps out from his cover and releases a biotic push of his own, the shockwave slamming into the singularity. For a split second, the cavern seems to darken as the swirling mass expands—then, with a deafening crack, it detonates. The explosion rips through the Geth ranks, shards of metal and electronic parts flung across the cavern as a shockwave echoes through the space, rattling the very rock.

The Armature is blown apart, its top half flung into a nearby wall, cratering it with the impact, while the bottom half crumples backwards, taking out other Geth as it crashes to the ground. The squad cheers, but it’s short-lived. More Geth flood in, their numbers seemingly endless, rushing to plug the gap in their defences.

Alexis lets out a frustrated growl, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. Her body is aching, her stamina pushed to its limits. She’s still not fully recovered, and every movement sends a fresh wave of pain through her side where she’d been injured. But she pushes it down—ignores it. There’s no room for weakness here.

"Got it!" Tali’s voice suddenly cuts through the chaos, triumphant and breathless. Alexis can hear the relief, the sheer exhaustion in her voice.

"Do it!" Alexis yells back, desperation leaking into her tone. This needs to end, now.

Tali’s fingers fly across her omni-tool, inputting the last sequence. She sends the command, her eyes locked onto the screen as she holds her breath. For a moment, there’s nothing—no sign that her hack had even taken effect. And then—

Every single Geth platform jerks, their movements stuttering and their optics flickering wildly. Sparks burst from joints, internal circuitry frying. Rocket troopers at the far end of the cavern explode as their payloads detonate in their hands, fire and metal debris raining down. Geth units collapse one by one, their limbs failing as the internal signals directing them misfire. A moment later, silence falls over the cavern—an eerie, still silence broken only by the soft hum of their suits and Tali’s labored breathing.

"Holy…" Ashley’s voice trails off as she slowly rises from her cover, staring at the lifeless remains scattered across the cavern floor. "Remind me never to doubt you again, Tali."

Tali lets out a weak laugh, her knees almost buckling beneath her. Alexis reaches out instinctively, her hand on Tali’s shoulder, steadying her. Their eyes meet through their visors, Alexis giving her a nod—a silent acknowledgement of just how much they owed her right now.

With the Geth disabled, the squad advanced quickly, blasting Geth at their feet as they passed.

Alexis reached the far side of the Geth’s fortifications, her boots skidding on the ground as she pressed herself to the wall. She looked to Wrex, who was already charging up his biotics. She gave a sharp nod, and without hesitation, Wrex surged forward, slamming into the double doors with an earth-shattering biotic charge. The heavy metal buckled under his power, the doors flung open as if they weighed nothing.

Alexis stepped in behind him, her eyes scanning the dimly lit room, rifle held high. The interior was filled with Geth hardware—massive servers and racks of unknown machinery. Many of them were offline, sparks flickering from overloaded circuitry. She moved cautiously, her footsteps quiet, eyes darting from one corner to the next. The silence was almost deafening after the cacophony of battle, and she found herself holding her breath, her instincts on high alert.

A slight whirring sound caught her attention—a twitch from a downed Geth. She didn’t hesitate, lifting her rifle and putting two rounds through its sparking head, the red lights of its optics fading to darkness. It seemed Tali’s hack had worked better than any of them expected; most of the Geth in this chamber were already disabled or beyond functioning.

The rest of the squad filtered in after her, each moving with deliberate caution. Garrus kept his sniper rifle up, his mandibles twitching as he scanned the upper areas of the chamber, while Wrex took point, his shotgun at the ready. Even the hulking Krogan seemed wary, his battle instincts telling him there could still be danger lurking.

“Hey Tali! Come take a look at this,” Alexis called out, her eyes catching sight of a still-glowing console among the wreckage.

The Quarian moved over, her eyes widening slightly behind her helmet at the sight of the console still humming with power. She took Alexis’s place in front of it, her fingers brushing over the surface as she activated her omni-tool. Despite the carnage and damage, it seemed there was still valuable information to be salvaged. She leaned closer, her eyes darting across the data that scrolled across her HUD.

Tali marvelled for a moment that anything this intact remained, given what she had done to their systems. Normally, Geth systems would self-purge, their programming ensuring that any data that could be of use to their enemies would be wiped the moment they sensed an intrusion. But her cyberattack had gone deep, had infiltrated every layer of their defenses, overwhelming the systems that would otherwise safeguard their secrets.

Knowing time was limited, Tali's fingers danced across her omni-tool, initiating a mass data siphon. She didn’t bother sorting through the files—there was no time for that—she only hoped that whatever she grabbed would prove useful later. It was a gamble, but in war, every second counted. As she watched the progress bar fill, her mind wandered for a brief moment—this would be perfect for her Pilgrimage, wouldn’t it? Proof that she had taken something valuable from the Geth. Proof she’d fought them, survived them, and come out on top.

Her eyes flicked towards Alexis, watching the Commander kick over a disabled Geth and scrutinize its remains. Alexis had kept them pushing through five different Geth bases, even when none of the others had anything of note. It had been exhausting, but now, here, she had something to show for it—something that might truly help the Fleet. Her heart swelled, and for a brief moment, she wished she could tell Alexis what this meant to her but not while there is work to do.

The Geth systems suddenly began flickering, defensive subroutines rebooting. Tali’s heart skipped a beat, and she frantically worked, her fingers blurring on her omni-tool. She managed to pull a few more scraps of data before the console went dark, the Geth’s security protocols reasserting themselves.

Alexis approached, her rifle now slung over her shoulder, “Get anything useful?”

Tali nodded, though her exhaustion was evident in the droop of her shoulders, “I… I think so. Didn’t have much time to go through it. We’ll have to analyze it on the Normandy.”

“Sounds good,” Alexis replied, her eyes flickering around the room. “But let’s get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps. I keep expecting one of these damn things to pop back up.”

Tali laughed, the sound crackling slightly through her helmet’s speakers, “I’m pretty sure we took them all out. Nothing to worry about.”

“We? This was all you, Tali.” Alexis smiled, her hand coming up to pat Tali’s shoulder lightly, her gaze lingering on the Quarian. She quickly turned, raising her voice for the rest of the squad, “Alright, let’s set the bomb and get out of here!”

Wrex and Garrus walked over, each carrying their part of the bomb, while Alexis removed her portion from her back. They’d split it up to ensure safety, knowing that assembling it too early would risk blowing themselves sky high. If anything happened, the Normandy was prepped to bombard the cavern and collapse it entirely—a backup plan that none of them wanted to enact. Alexis herself looked forward to pressing the detonator, watching the fireball as it wiped away this Geth stronghold.

They worked quickly, Alexis giving precise instructions as they assembled the explosive. It wasn’t long before the final connection was made, the LED on the detonator blinking to life. She gave it one final inspection, ensuring that everything was primed and ready.

“Alright, everyone out,” she commanded, her voice firm but edged with relief. The squad moved as one, leaving the ominous chamber behind, their steps careful, eyes alert for any remaining threat.

As they stepped out of the cavern’s dark maw and into the blinding brightness of the Eingana jungle, Alexis took a deep breath, the humid air filling her lungs. She activated her comm as they were leaving to signal Joker to bring the Normandy in for a pickup.

They all watch as the frigate descends from the atmosphere, landing some distance away. Alexis leads them through the path they’d cut through the jungle, all of their eyes looking out for the dangerous predators Eingana is known for. Many of them apparently have biotic abilities, and Alexis wants to return here at some point to see just that. It would have to wait till after the Reapers; Alexis knows that, but she would return someday, she hoped.

As all of them walk up the Normandy’s cargo ramp, Alexis turns back towards the direction of the cavern, smiling to herself as she flicks open the button on the detonator. With a simple press, she only has to wait a second before it happens.

A titanic fire ball erupts in the distance, its shockwave hitting them moments later. The squad has to brace their feet as it hits them, the force of the explosion is greater than they are expecting. Aliexs laughs, “Well that was fun.” She marches up the ramp as it closes, “On to the next one then!”

That evening, as the Normandy flies through the stars, Alexis's cabin is dimly lit, the soft glow of the lights casting dancing shadows on the walls. She sits comfortably on her couch, wearing a pair of casual shorts and one of her favourite black and red t-shirts, the colours unmistakably reminiscent of her usual gear. Next to her, Tali is wrapped in one of Alexis's N7 hoodies, the oversized fabric enveloping her form, making her look even more endearing. Tali leans against Alexis's side, her head resting on Alexis's shoulder. The room is filled with a sense of peace—a rare and cherished moment amidst the chaos of their missions. The Normandy feels quiet tonight, the hum of the ship's engine a steady background comfort.

Tali lets out a soft, contented purr, the vibration carrying through to Alexis, who smiles at the sound. It always warms her heart to hear Tali purr like that—a sign that the Quarian feels comfortable and safe.

"You know," Alexis says softly, her hand gently tracing patterns on Tali's arm, "It's been a while since I've talked to my mum. I think she'd love to hear from us—especially you. She’s always asking about how you’re doing." Alexis's lips curve into a small smile, her eyes glancing towards Tali.

Tali chuckles, the sound carrying a mix of nervousness and excitement, along with a faint trill—a sound Alexis knows to be an expression of happiness. "She does? I mean, she always seemed interested, but I thought she’d mostly want to talk to you. After all, you’re her daughter. I’m just..." She trails off, her voice faltering slightly, unsure of her place in the family dynamic.

Alexis tilts her head, resting her cheek on top of Tali’s head, giving her a gentle squeeze. Tali responds with a soft purring rumble that vibrates through Alexis's chest. "You’re not 'just' anything, Tali. Mum adores you. I’m pretty sure she sees you as family. Besides, she’s always happy when I have someone with me. She knows how lonely it can be out here." Her voice softens as she speaks, and she gives Tali’s arm a comforting squeeze. "I love that she’s interested in you, not just me."

Tali lifts her head slightly, looking up at Alexis with warmth in her eyes that matches the soft glow of the room. Her lips part and she lets out a soft, almost musical sigh. "Then, let’s call her. I think I’d like that," she says, her voice gentle and filled with an affectionate purr.

Alexis smiles widely, leaning down to kiss Tali softly before reaching over to her console and tapping on the screen. The screen lights up with a soft chime, and a few moments later, Mari’Saalas appears, her helmetless face instantly lighting up at the sight of her daughter. Her bioluminescent freckles shimmer faintly, making her features glow, and her smile is full of warmth.

"Lexi! Tali! It’s so good to see you both!" Mari exclaims, her voice a mix of joy and relief. She lets out a soft trill of happiness. "I was wondering when my wayward daughter would remember to call her poor mother."

Alexis rolls her eyes, a grin forming on her lips. "Mum, it’s not like I forgot. We’ve just been busy... saving the galaxy and all." She gestures with her free hand as if to emphasize the enormity of their task, her tone light and teasing.

Mari chuckles, shaking her head, her laughter joined by a faint purr. "Yes, yes. Always with the galaxy-saving excuses. But I suppose that’s my Lexi." Her gaze shifts to Tali, her expression softening. "Tali, dear, how are you holding up? I know these missions must be difficult for both of you."

Tali straightens slightly, her voice carrying a hint of warmth and respect, as well as a gentle purr that speaks of her contentment. "I’m well, Mari. Alexis takes good care of all of us. And... she takes especially good care of me." Tali glances at Alexis, her tone growing playful as she adds, accompanied by a soft trill, "Though sometimes she can be a little too reckless."

Alexis gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "Reckless? Me? I’m offended, Tali—I’m the very model of caution and prudence." She winks, her teasing tone drawing a chuckle from Mari.

"Oh, don’t worry, Tali. She’s always been that way," Mari says, her voice tinged with affection. "When she was younger, there was no stopping her once she set her mind on something—whether it was learning to pilot or taking apart our ship’s systems just to 'see how it worked.' She always had a bit of an adventurous streak."

Alexis groans playfully, shaking her head. "You’re not supposed to tell embarrassing stories, Mum. Tali’s supposed to think I’m cool and mysterious."

"Oh, I think you’re plenty mysterious already," Tali replies, her voice gentle and punctuated by a soft, affectionate chirr. She shifts slightly, laying her hand over Alexis's. "But it’s nice to know that part of you hasn’t changed. It’s what makes you... well, you."

Mari watches them, a smile tugging at her lips as she takes in the scene before her—her daughter, no longer alone, surrounded by people who love her, and most importantly, someone who loves her deeply. "You two make quite the team," she says softly, her voice carrying the weight of her pride. "Just promise me one thing—keep looking out for each other, alright? No matter what."

Alexis nods, her expression growing serious for a moment. "I promise, Mum. We always do."

Tali adds, her voice filled with conviction, "We won’t let anything happen to each other, Mari. I’ll protect Alexis, just as she protects me."

Mari’s eyes shine with emotion as she nods, her gaze lingering on both of them. "Good. That’s all I ask. Just remember... you’re never alone. You have each other, and you have me."

The call continues for a while longer—filled with laughter, more stories, and the warmth of shared memories. Tali often lets out soft trills and purrs, her comfort and happiness obvious in the presence of Mari and Alexis. But eventually, the time comes to say goodbye. As the screen flickers off, Alexis lets out a breath, leaning her head back against the couch.

"Your mother’s wonderful," Tali says softly, her fingers intertwining with Alexis’s. She lets out a soft purr, her contentment echoing through her voice. "It’s easy to see where you get your strength from."

Alexis looks at Tali, her heart swelling at the sight of her partner beside her. She raises Tali's hand to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, savouring the quiet purring that follows. "I’m lucky to have her. And even luckier to have you."

Tali shifts, leaning closer until her forehead rests against Alexis's. She lets out a soft, affectionate chirr before speaking. "Then we’re both lucky," she whispers, her voice barely audible, the words meant just for the two of them.

After the call with Mari ends, Alexis and Tali sit for a few moments in silence, savouring the warmth of the moment. Tali nuzzles into Alexis's neck, her soft purring vibrating against Alexis's skin, and Alexis sighs in contentment. She gently strokes Tali's back, her fingers tracing the lines of the hoodie that Tali still wears. Tali closes her eyes, her breath warm against Alexis's collarbone, her arms wrapping around Alexis's waist.

"You know," Alexis whispers, her voice barely audible in the soft glow of the room, "I think we should head to bed. We both deserve some proper rest."

Tali lifts her head slightly, her eyes meeting Alexis's, and she gives a soft, playful chirr. "Rest, you say? Or are you just planning on making me even more comfortable?" She tilts her head, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Alexis smiles, leaning in to press her forehead against Tali's. "Maybe both," she replies softly. She gently pulls Tali up with her, their hands intertwined as they walk towards the bed. The sheets are soft, a comforting sanctuary amidst all the chaos outside. Alexis sits on the edge of the bed, pulling Tali close to her, their bodies naturally fitting together as if they had been made for one another.

Tali lets out a gentle purr as she moves to sit beside Alexis, their legs intertwined as Alexis pulls her into a gentle embrace. She rests her head against Alexis's shoulder, her breath soft and even against Alexis's neck. Alexis wraps her arms around Tali, holding her close, her fingers gently brushing against Tali's back in soothing circles.

"You always make me feel so safe," Tali murmurs, her voice muffled slightly as she presses her face against Alexis's neck. There is a soft trill to her words, a sign of the warmth and love she feels in that moment. "I never thought I'd find this kind of peace out here. Not on the Normandy, not anywhere in this galaxy. But with you..." Her voice trails off, replaced by a soft, affectionate chirr.

Alexis's heart swells at Tali's words, and she leans down to kiss the top of Tali's head. "You're my peace too, Tali," she whispers, her voice filled with emotion. She gently shifts, lying back on the bed and pulling Tali down with her. Tali rests her head against Alexis's chest, her arm draped across Alexis's waist, and her legs tangled with Alexis's. The steady rhythm of Alexis's heartbeat soothes her, and she purrs softly, her eyes closing as she relaxes completely.

Alexis strokes Tali's back, her fingers moving in slow, gentle patterns. She listens to Tali's soft purring, the sound filling the room with a sense of calm and comfort. The weight of the galaxy, the missions, the danger—all of it fades away in that moment, leaving only the two of them, safe and together.

"I love you, Tali," Alexis whispers, her voice barely audible, her words meant only for Tali.

Tali lifts her head slightly, her eyes meeting Alexis's, her gaze filled with warmth and affection. "I love you too, Alexis," she replies softly, her voice carrying a gentle purr. She leans in, pressing her lips to Alexis's in a soft, lingering kiss. The kiss deepens for a moment, both of them savouring the closeness, the connection that seemed to make everything else disappear. Alexis feels Tali’s fingers tighten slightly on her side, as though she never wanted to let go.

When they finally pull away, Tali rests her forehead against Alexis's, her eyes closing as she lets out a soft, contented sigh. Her purrs continue, vibrating between them, a steady affirmation of her happiness. "Promise me we'll have more moments like this," she whispers, her voice barely audible, her words filled with a quiet longing.

Alexis smiles, her fingers gently brushing against Tali's cheek. "I promise," she whispers.

Tali lets out a soft purring sound, her body relaxing completely against Alexis's. She shifts slightly, curling even closer, her leg draping over Alexis's as if to get as close as possible. Alexis’s hands continue their gentle tracing, one hand moving up to caress the back of Tali’s neck, her thumb brushing against the curve of Tali’s jaw.

The two of them lie there in perfect contentment, with Alexis occasionally dropping a soft kiss on Tali’s forehead or her cheek, each touch met with a happy trill or purr from Tali. Alexis could feel herself beginning to drift off, the warmth of Tali pressed against her, the soft sound of her partner’s purring filling her ears—it was everything she needed to forget about the stresses of the galaxy.

"You know," Alexis murmurs sleepily, her voice a soft hum in the darkened room, "I used to think peace like this was impossible. That I'd always be fighting, always be moving... but with you here, it feels different." Her words trail off into a whisper, her eyes closing as she holds Tali close.

Tali responds with a soft chirr, her fingers brushing lightly against Alexis's side. "I used to think I was destined to always be searching... for something. I think I found it in you, Alexis." Her voice is a soft murmur, and as she shifts, her lips brush gently against Alexis’s jaw, her purring growing louder for a moment before settling back into a soft, steady rhythm.

Alexis’s eyes flutter open, just for a moment, and she smiles, her gaze meeting Tali's before they both close their eyes again. She feels Tali’s gentle breaths against her skin, and she knows that whatever happens, they’ll always have this—a quiet place of warmth and safety to come back to, a place where they can simply be.

The two of them lie there, wrapped in each other's arms, the soft glow of the room casting a warm light over them. For a moment, the galaxy fades away, leaving only the two of them—safe, loved, and together. They drift off to sleep like that, the soft purring sounds and the steady heartbeat between them a promise of the love they’ve found and the future they’ll build together.

~~~~

A few days later of fruitless search for a further Geth presence, Alexis and Tali are relaxing in their cabin after their shift but still in their undersuits as they are not totally done for the day across the ship. Suddenly, a deafening bang rocks the entire ship, and a red flashing light fills the cabin, casting an ominous glow.

Alexis and Tali don’t hesitate to spring up from where they are sitting, quickly strapping on their armour. Alexis’s full armoured helmet unfolds around her lighter undersuit helmet to complete her N7 armour look, its plates locking into place with a reassuring series of clicks.

Alexis stumbles out of her cabin as the Normandy is rocked by another violent shake. She almost falls off her feet, reaching out with a hand and steadying herself on the wall. She quickly scans her surroundings, eyes widening at the fires that have already started on this deck. Some of the ceilings looks as though it has been burned by some intense heat, barely separating the centre deck from the CIC. Panels have fallen to the ground, exposed wiring hanging from so many places, Alexis would’ve normally thought they’d been under attack for several hours.

The Commander grabs a fire extinguisher from the kitchen, doing her best to put out the fires. The small device doesn’t have much power, only just barely managing to put out a few blazes. It quickly runs out, several fires still ravaging the frigate’s interior. She looks back around, searching for another way to put them out. The Normandy’s internal fire suppression systems look to have failed, and panic claws at her, knowing they are losing precious time.

Her eyes fall on Tali, who is picking herself up from the floor where she’s fallen. The Quarian looks around, her eyes wide, reflecting the same shock Alexis feels at the sudden devastation of the Normandy. Alexis closes the distance to Tali’s side, her voice almost drowned out by the chaos, “You okay?!”

“I’m fine. What the hell is happening?” Tali's voice trembles, fear and adrenaline mixing as her head swivels, taking in the destruction.

Alexis immediately gets on the ship’s intercom, her voice commanding and steady, “Joker, status report!”

It takes a moment for the pilot to respond, his voice crackling through the static. “We’re under attack. Unidentified vessel moved to intercept course as soon as they dropped out of FTL. Saw right through the stealth drive.”

“That’s not possible,” Alexis replies, disbelief tightening her chest. The Normandy's stealth drive had been their greatest shield.

“Yeah, well, they fucking did it.” Alexis can feel the Normandy moving in tight turns, Joker obviously trying to avoid their attacker. His voice sounds strained, the stress clear. “I managed to dodge the first few attacks, but our shields are down to fifteen percent, don’t think I can keep this up for long.”

“Get to FTL, get us out of here!” Alexis orders, trying to find some way to counter the overwhelming threat.

“Can’t. Divert that much power to the engines and we’re toast.” Joker pauses, the gravity of the situation weighing down his next words. “Pressly’s dead. Console overloaded when one of the attacks hit us. Multiple hull breaches on the CIC, I’ve sealed the cockpit.”

Alexis curses under her breath, her mind racing for a way out of this situation, “Any chance we can outrun it?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” Joker's frustration is palpable.

The Normandy shudders again, the impact sending both Tali and Alexis sprawling, barely keeping their balance. The Commander’s mind settles on the only course of action she can take. She pulls up her omni-tool, linking through to the entire frigate’s intercom system, her voice echoing across the ship. “This is Commander Alexis'Shepard. Abandon ship, repeat, abandon ship. The Normandy is lost. Get to escape pods immediately. All crew, abandon ship.” Alexis accesses her omni-tool, bringing up the Normandy’s distress beacon, activating it straight away. She switches back to talking to Joker, her voice sharp, “Joker, get to your escape pod, we’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Can’t do that, ma’am.”

“That is an order, Lieutenant.”

“I can still save the Normandy.”

Her radio goes dead, leaving Alexis slack-jawed, her rage and desperation boiling over, “GOD FUCKING DAMNIT JOKER!” She screams at the top of her lungs, cursing the pilot’s audacity and arrogance. She quickly starts towards the stairs that lead her to the CIC so she can drag Joker’s stubborn ass to an escape pod herself.

As the Normandy shudders violently around them, Alexis turns to Tali, urgency burning in her eyes as the abandon ship siren blares through the halls, its cold, merciless tone filling every corner of the ship. The familiar hum of the ship’s engines feels jagged and wrong, betraying the Normandy’s usual quiet strength. Each shake, each jolt feels like it could be the last, and Alexis’s heart clenches as she faces Tali. This isn’t just a drill; this is a battle for survival against an unknown, powerful enemy—and she fears it’s going to be a long time before they see each other again.

The fear is palpable, the fear of the unknown. The ship that had come from nowhere, like a spectre from the void, hunting them with unerring precision. Alexis feels the raw terror clawing at her insides. The enemy is a mystery, and it’s tearing apart her home with relentless power. The uncertainty—the not knowing who or what they’re facing—is terrifying.

“Tali, get down to engineering. Find an escape pod,” Alexis says, her voice firm but soft, reaching for calm she doesn’t entirely feel. “I’ll haul Joker’s ass out of here.”

Tali’s voice shakes, her defiance cutting through the noise of alarms and chaos. “No, I can help, I’ll–”

Alexis closes the distance between them, her hand finding Tali’s arm as she interrupts, her voice softer, pleading. “Tali, please. Go and get in one of the engineering escape pods. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Tali doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she moves forward, almost on instinct, wrapping her arms tightly around Alexis’s shoulders. Alexis’s arms close around Tali’s waist in return, pulling her close, their embrace fierce and unyielding in the chaos. For a moment, they’re an island of stillness amid the frantic storm around them. Tali’s heart races as she clings to Alexis, a thousand emotions swirling within her. She’s seen Alexis do the impossible time and time again, but something about this feels different, final. A terrible sense of foreboding claws at her, gripping her heart with icy fear. Her mind is flooded with words she’s never said, thoughts she’s never dared to share. It feels like if she lets go now, she might never feel Alexis’s arms around her again.

Alexis swallows, feeling the weight of a hundred unspoken words pressing against her own chest. She wants Tali to know she’s her home, that she needs her like she needs air, that even if they’re worlds apart, Alexis would chase her to the end of the galaxy just to see her again. But there’s no time for that now. She has to get Joker to safety—and Tali needs to be safe, too. They’ll have time later… they have to.

Keeping her voice steady, Alexis presses her helmet against Tali’s, resting it there, her voice soft and close, resonating through their faceplates. “I will. I’ll see you before you know it. Don’t worry, Tali. Keelah Se’lai.” The words carry a promise, a quiet strength that she hopes Tali can hold onto.

Tali’s eyes glisten behind her faceplate, and a soft, vulnerable trill escapes her, a sound that Alexis has learned to associate with both longing and love. She leans closer, pressing her masked forehead to Alexis’s, feeling her warmth through the barriers. “Please... just come back to me,” she whispers, her voice cracking slightly, her heart breaking with the thought of being separated.

Alexis trails her hand gently across the side of Tali’s helmet, feeling the curve of it under her fingers, a parting touch that holds more than she can say. She lets go, her heart twisting painfully, and without looking back, she turns and sprints up the stairs to the CIC, each step feeling like she’s leaving a part of herself behind.

Tali stands frozen, watching Alexis disappear up the stairwell, her heart aching, her words barely a whisper chasing after her, “Keelah Se’lai.”

For a moment, she doesn’t move, the alarm blaring in her ears, her entire body feeling numb. The ship shudders again, the floor beneath her feet buckling, and it snaps her out of her trance. She forces herself to turn, running towards the engineering deck, her breath coming in shallow gasps, each step pounding with the same rhythm as her racing heart.

The corridors are chaotic—crew members rushing towards escape pods, others yelling commands, and the ominous glow of emergency lights casting everything in a blood-red hue. It feels like the ship is groaning in pain, and the fear of the unknown, the unseen enemy tearing their home apart, weighs heavily on Tali. She pushes forward, dodging debris and keeping her focus on getting to safety as Alexis had asked.

But in her chest, her heart aches. Every part of her screams to turn back, to run after Alexis, to make sure she’s okay. The logical part of her mind, the part trained by years of engineering and survival on the Flotilla, knows that she has to get to safety—that’s what Alexis wants, what Alexis needs. But the other part, the part that loves Alexis, fears that this might be the last time they see each other.

She dodges fallen panels and sparking wires, her heart pounding in time with the red emergency lights that pulse overhead. Every jolt of the Normandy feels like a strike to her chest, each groan of metal pushing her to run faster. “You’re my peace,” Alexis’s words replay in her mind, a fragile thread keeping her focused. She has to make it. She has to see Alexis again.

Down in engineering, chaos reigns. Crew members are rushing between consoles, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Sparks fly from a nearby panel as Tali barrels into the room, her voice cutting through the confusion.

“Everyone, escape pods! Move!” she shouts, her eyes scanning the chaos for her fellow engineers. The room is thick with smoke, the acrid smell filling her helmet, and she can see the exhaustion etched into the crew’s movements. They’re scrambling, many of them injured, but Tali knows there’s no time to lose.

She reaches for one of her colleagues, gripping his arm firmly. “Get to the pods! Now!”

He nods, his eyes wide, and rushes towards one of the escape pods lining the far wall. Tali moves quickly, helping the rest of the crew towards the pods, her hands trembling as she guides them. The ship shudders again, the violent movement almost throwing her to the ground. She can hear the ominous creaking of metal as it buckles under the strain, and the ever-present blare of the sirens drills into her head.

Her heart races, fear clawing at her, but she forces it down. There’s still one person left to save. She quickly jumps into the pod with Garrus, her fingers flying over the controls, her thoughts a constant plea: Alexis, come back to me.

As the pod detaches from the Normandy, Tali feels the weight of the moment settle in her chest, a sense of helplessness washing over her. The stars blur as tears well in her eyes, her hands trembling as she clutches the straps securing her in place. The last image of Alexis, determined and fearless, burns in her mind, a beacon of hope that she holds onto with every ounce of her being.

Alexis uses her commanding officer clearance to make sure the entire crew deck is empty before facing the door in front of her. She triple-checks the seals on her armour, ensuring nothing will go wrong the moment she lets these doors open. The readout she’s getting tells her everything she needs to know about what lies beyond the threshold. The entire top deck of the Normandy is completely depressurized, only the cockpit and a short section of the hallway beyond still maintain a breathable atmosphere. Alexis accesses the door’s controls, deactivating the magnetic locks keeping it sealed tight in a situation like this. She presses the button.

Instantly, the atmosphere behind her is sucked out into the cold vacuum of space. Alexis stands her ground, feeling the rush of air pulling at her body, threatening to take her along with it. Her mag-boots engage, keeping her rooted as she steps out into the Normandy’s CIC.

The sight that greets her chills her to the bone. The CIC is eerily quiet in the vacuum, her breathing loud and heavy in her ears as she takes her first steps. She cranes her neck up, eyes widening at the devastation that the unknown attacker has already wrought on the state-of-the-art frigate. The entire ceiling is gone, the outer hull, experimental armour, and internal systems completely stripped out, edges blackened with whatever force had torn through them.

Her eyes trace higher, settling on a glowing yellow light in the depths of space. The reflection of the sun’s light from the planet above makes it hard to see, at first looking like a mirage until it grows brighter—and larger. Before Alexis can fully comprehend what she’s seeing, the attack strikes.

A yellow beam crashes into the Normandy not five meters ahead, and Alexis instinctively shields her eyes from its intensity, quickly commanding her suit’s systems to darken her visor before her vision is damaged. The beam abruptly ceases, leaving her blinking, her eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness. The blast has carved through the Normandy’s decking even deeper, almost penetrating the centre deck. The metal edges are molten, glowing briefly before beginning to cool in the frigid void, the ground beneath her feet scorched and mangled.

She looks forward, seeing the forcefield Joker has sealed the cockpit with. She has to get to him—she has to reach Joker before that weapon destroys them both.

It’s slow going. She refuses to deactivate her mag-boots—propelling herself would be faster, but she can’t risk overshooting or leaving herself unanchored as another blast strikes. She picks her way forward, moving around wreckage and pushing aside the chairs that have come loose in the chaos, watching as they drift aimlessly into the void. The closer she gets to the cockpit, the worse the damage. It’s almost as if the attacker has focused on taking out the command centre of the Normandy first—and if not for Joker’s skilled flying, the ship would have been a sitting target long ago.

As Alexis climbs the short stairs leading to the cockpit, a glow from above catches her attention again. She looks up, the fear building in her chest like a vice. This time, the beam strikes barely a foot ahead of her, the force enough to nearly knock her forward. Only her mag-boots keep her from falling into the deadly beam, her heart thundering in her ears as she stares down at the metal now glowing a brilliant orange.

Then it happens.

The beam hits something crucial beneath the decking, and an explosion hits her square in the chest, the sheer force breaking the seal of her mag-boots. Alexis is hurled backwards, her body spinning weightlessly, flailing for anything to grab. Her gloved hands close on nothing, the void around her filled with shrapnel and debris.

Pain. The sudden impact as she collides with the wall sends a new wave of pain through her body—her vision blurs and she can feel something pierce her armour. Her scream echoes in her ears, raw and hoarse, the sound mixing with the hiss of air escaping her suit.

Her hands fumble with her omni-tool, activating the emergency seals on her armour. The loud hiss fades, replaced with the rhythmic sound of her own breathing—laboured and shallow. The suit patches the worst breaches, but the pain doesn’t fade. She blinks, trying to clear her vision, but her right eye remains dark. Out of her left eye, she spots a jagged piece of shrapnel embedded in her helmet, its sharp edge having pierced through to her face.

Her hand slowly moves up to touch it, but even the slightest shift sends agony coursing through her. She lets her hand fall, not daring to pull it free. Her right eye is gone—destroyed. She fights the urge to scream again, gritting her teeth, forcing herself to focus.

But it’s not over. She looks down, her breath catching in her throat as she takes in the sight of a massive shard of the Normandy’s superstructure piercing her thigh. The metal juts out from both sides, frozen blood coating the jagged end. Her head swims, and she feels nausea rising—but she forces herself to breathe, to keep her focus.

She needs to get to Joker.

With trembling hands, Alexis grips the metal impaling her leg. Every movement is pure agony, her vision swimming as she pulls her leg free, inch by excruciating inch. The pain is unbearable, white-hot and blinding, but she doesn’t stop. Finally, with a strangled cry, she pulls herself free, her mag-boots re-engaging with the deck.

Her injured leg can barely take her weight, the limb threatening to give out beneath her. She deactivates her mag-boots, falling forward and catching herself on the nearest console. With her free hand, she retrieves the emergency sealant from her armour—spraying it onto the wound and sealing the holes in her suit. The chemical agent burns as it adheres, but she grits her teeth, forcing herself through the pain.

Her suit sealed, Alexis knows there’s no time to rest. She has to get to Joker. She braces herself, deactivating the mag-boots and pushing off from the console, propelling herself forward. The pain in her thigh screams at her, but she ignores it, using the wreckage around her to pull herself closer to the cockpit.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she reaches the forcefield. She catches herself on the edge, pulling herself inside, her left leg passing through the field first. She grabs hold of the console, her eyes locking onto Joker as he continues his frantic attempts to save the Normandy.

“Joker, we’ve got to get out of here, now.”

“NO! I can still save her! I will not abandon the Normandy!”

Alexis grips his arm, her strength making Joker wince in pain, forcing him to turn to face her. His protests die in his throat as he sees the shrapnel sticking out of her helmet, the blood seeping down her armour.

“The Normandy is dead!” Alexis growls. “Get in the fucking pod, NOW!”

Joker’s eyes widen, his gaze trailing to the ruined mess of her leg. He looks back up at her, his voice trembling, “Shepard… your eye… your leg…”

Her voice is raw, every word filled with agony, “JOKER! GET IN THE FUCKING ESCAPE POD RIGHT NOW!” She doesn’t give him a chance to argue. She hauls him from his seat, forcing his arm over her shoulders and half-dragging him to the escape pod.

As she pushes him inside, another attack hits. The beam is close, carving through the floor beside her, and the resulting shockwave sends her tumbling backwards, away from the pod.

The beam sears through the deck between her and the escape pod, cutting off her path. She can see Joker, his eyes wide with horror, realizing what’s happening. His voice crackles over her comms, desperate, “ALEXIS! NO!”

Her hand slams down on the control, barely managing to activate it before another shockwave sends her spinning into the CIC. The last thing she sees is the pod door sealing, and then it’s gone—Joker, her friend, rocketing away into the void.

Alexis floats, her body weightless and battered, her mind swimming in pain and exhaustion. She stares out at the stars, her one remaining eye blurred with tears, and for a moment, she allows herself to hope that Joker makes it—that he can live, even if she’s left behind.

~~

Tali sits in the escape pod, her heart racing, the cramped space around her filled with the harsh breaths of her fellow crewmembers. Garrus is next to her, his mandibles tight against his face in a grimace, his eyes locked on the viewport as they drift away from the Normandy’s wreckage. Engineer Adams and another engineer sit across from them, their faces pale and eyes wide as the dark void of space swallows the image of the ship that had been their home.

But for Tali, there is only one thing that matters. Her HUD, projected inside her helmet, displaying Alexis’s vitals. Her hands are clenched tight against her chest, her entire body trembling as she watches the data streaming across the screen, her mind screaming with fear.

Alexis’s vitals are erratic—her heart rate spiking and plummeting with each second, her suit status flashing urgent alerts that make Tali’s breath catch. The shrapnel, the damage to her armour, the way her oxygen levels keep fluctuating. She can see it all, and it’s like a knife to her chest, twisting deeper each time another warning flashes.

“Come on, Alexis, hold on,” Tali whispers, her voice barely audible above the hum of the escape pod’s systems. She can’t tear her eyes away from the HUD, from the numbers that represent Alexis’s life, her fragile hold on survival. Tali knows she can’t do anything from here, can’t help her the way she wants to, but she can’t look away. Not now. Not when Alexis needs her.

Garrus glances at her, his eyes softening at the sight of her trembling form. He leans closer, speaking low, so only she can hear, “She’s tough, Tali. You know that. Alexis will make it.”

Tali closes her eyes, taking a shaky breath, trying to believe his words. She knows Alexis is tough. She knows better than anyone how many times Alexis has beaten the odds, come back from situations that seemed impossible. But this… this feels different. The unknown ship, the sheer power of the attack, the way the Normandy is being torn apart around them. It all feels like too much, like something even Alexis can’t fight.

She opens her eyes, her gaze flicking back to her HUD. Alexis’s heart rate is stabilizing, the alerts for her oxygen levels quieting, but her body temperature is dropping—the vacuum of space taking its toll despite the emergency seals on her armour. Tali can see the damage, the shrapnel embedded in her skull, the way her leg is barely holding on, and her heart breaks at the sight.

“Alexis… please,” Tali whispers, her voice cracking. She wants to reach out, to touch her, to hold her, to do anything to help, but all she can do is watch, helpless as the Normandy burns and Alexis fights to survive.

Garrus puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, his own gaze flicking to the viewport. The Normandy is a wreck now, the beautiful ship that had been their home for so long reduced to a shell, fires raging across its hull, pieces of it breaking off, floating away into the void. The beam of their unknown attacker cuts through it again, carving deep into the ship’s core, and Tali’s breath catches as Alexis’s vitals spike in response.

“Come on, Shepard,” Garrus mutters, his voice tense. “You’ve pulled off miracles before… just one more, okay?”

Tali’s eyes stay fixed on her HUD, her heart pounding in her chest as she watches Alexis’s vitals slowly begin to stabilize again. She can see the strain, the way her body is struggling, the pain she must be feeling, but she’s still alive. She’s still fighting, and that’s enough for Tali to hold onto hope, to cling to the belief that somehow, someway, Alexis will find a way out of this.

The escape pod shudders as it accelerates, the engines firing as they move further away from the Normandy, the stars blurring in the viewport. Tali’s hands clench tighter, her eyes never leaving the HUD, her breath caught in her throat as she waits, each second feeling like an eternity.

Garrus’s hand stays on her shoulder, his presence a steadying force, a reminder that she’s not alone. He speaks again, his voice a little softer, “You know she’d be mad at us for worrying, right? Alexis would want us to believe in her, no matter what.”

Tali nods, her voice barely a whisper. “I know... I know she would.” She takes another shaky breath, her eyes locked on Alexis’s vitals. The erratic spikes have steadied, her oxygen levels stabilizing, but the damage is still severe. The alerts continue to flash, a constant reminder of how fragile her condition is.

Garrus glances out the viewport, his eyes narrowing as he watches the Normandy continue to crumble. “Damn it, Shepard... You better make it. We’ve still got things to do.” He looks back at Tali, his expression softening. “And you two... You’ve got more time together. She won’t give that up.”

Tali swallows hard, tears stinging her eyes as she looks at the data on her HUD. “She promised,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “She promised she’d come back to me.”

Garrus’s mandibles flare slightly, a pained look crossing his face. “And she will. She always keeps her promises, Tali.”

The pod shifts again, the force of acceleration pushing them back into their seats. Tali closes her eyes for a moment, trying to steady her breathing, trying to focus on the rhythm of Alexis’s heartbeat. The numbers flicker, stabilizing, her heart rate finding a rhythm that isn’t perfect but is steady. It’s enough for Tali to cling to, a lifeline in the middle of the chaos.

She opens her eyes again, her gaze fixed on the viewport. The Normandy is a distant shape now, barely visible against the backdrop of stars. The unknown vessel that had attacked them is still there, an ominous shadow against the light of the distant sun, its presence a reminder of the danger still looming over them.

“Who are they?” Adams mutters, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and confusion. “How could they do this to the Normandy?”

Garrus shakes his head, his eyes narrowing. “Whoever they are, they’re going to pay. But right now, we need to get out of here... and Alexis needs to make it.”

Tali’s eyes flick back to her HUD, her heart aching as she sees the pain Alexis must be enduring. The shrapnel, the damage—it’s all too much. But Alexis is still fighting, still holding on, and Tali knows she has to hold on too. She has to believe, even if every fibre of her being is screaming with fear.

“You better come back to me, Alexis,” Tali whispers, her voice filled with determination, her heart aching with fear and love. “I can’t lose you... not like this. Not now.”

Garrus’s hand stays on her shoulder, his presence a steadying force, a reminder that she’s not alone. But for Tali, there is only one thought, one hope, one person that matters.

Alexis.

She watches, she waits, she hopes, her eyes locked on the data streaming across her HUD, her heart beating in time with Alexis’s, willing her to survive, to hold on, to come back to her.

The seconds stretch into minutes, each one feeling like an eternity as the pod continues to move away from the destruction. Tali can hear the breathing of the others in the pod—short, shallow, filled with the same fear that grips her heart. The weight of the unknown bears down on them, the question of who attacked them, why they were targeted, gnawing at the back of her mind. But even that fear, that uncertainty, pales compared to the fear of losing Alexis.

Garrus glances at her again, his voice low and filled with conviction. “She’s got this, Tali. Shepard’s too stubborn to let this be the end. And she’s got you to come back to. That’s all the reason she needs.”

Tali nods, her eyes never leaving her HUD. She can see the struggle, the way Alexis’s body is fighting, and it breaks her heart. But she knows Garrus is right. Alexis is stubborn. She’s fought through impossible odds before, and she’ll do it again. She has to. Tali won’t accept any other outcome.

Tali whispers, her voice filled with a quiet, desperate hope. “Please, Alexis... come back to me.”

Tali keeps her eyes locked on the tiny viewport of the escape pod, the stars blurring slightly behind the streaks of tears that have formed in her eyes. Her heart is a pounding mess, every beat filled with equal parts terror and hope. She's hanging onto that hope with everything she has, hoping beyond hope that Alexis is going to make it. When her eyes catch sight of a small, glowing shape escaping from the battered remains of the Normandy's bridge, her hope surges.

“An escape pod!” Garrus exclaims from beside her, and Tali's heart leaps into her throat. Relief starts to wash over her like a warm tide, her trembling fingers brushing across her HUD controls, zooming in on the escaping pod. She’s so ready to believe that Alexis made it, that she somehow managed to drag Joker to safety, to think that everything’s going to be okay.

But then, the flash of yellow light cuts through the dark void like a terrible omen—the enemy's beam strikes again, a fatal spear directed at the Normandy, hitting just too close. Tali gasps at the sight, her entire being tightening with a sense of impending doom. Her eyes snap down to her HUD as the connection to Alexis’s suit registers it, the jolt of pain flashing through the readouts and making Tali’s breath hitch. Alexis’s vitals spike, her heart rate erratic, and Tali’s relief twists into a cold, hollow pit of dread.

“Come on... come on,” Tali whispers, her voice barely audible, her gaze glued to the data streaming across her HUD, her fingers clenched around the edges of her seat. Alexis’s oxygen levels should be stabilizing, her suit should be indicating a safe environment. But instead, it’s the opposite. There are major breaches, the alarms flashing red across Tali’s visor, urgent and desperate. Oxygen levels dropping, temperatures plummeting.

“No, no, no, no,” Tali mutters, her heart thundering painfully in her chest, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Alexis is venting oxygen, her suit's integrity compromised, the only explanation being that she’s in open space—not in the escape pod. Tali’s fingers tremble against her chest, her eyes wide as she watches Alexis’s vitals flash in warning.

“What’s happening?” Garrus leans over, his mandibles flaring as he glances at Tali’s screen. His eyes widen, and he’s left speechless, watching the flickering, desperate numbers.

“She’s...” Tali’s voice cracks, her vision blurring as tears roll freely down her face, her heart aching with every beat. “She’s still out there... She’s not in the escape pod, Garrus.” Her voice is choked, raw with fear and helplessness, her entire body trembling.

Garrus’s gaze snaps back to the viewport, searching desperately, hoping that somehow Alexis is still out there, still fighting, still surviving. But space is dark, vast, and the debris from the Normandy fills their sight. The beam had cut through the ship like a hot knife, severing pieces of their home and sending them adrift into the endless void. Garrus clenches his jaw, his fists curling against his sides as he watches.

“Damn it, Shepard...” he mutters, his voice filled with frustration and fear. “You have to make it.”

But Tali barely hears him. Her world is reduced to the tiny screen in her helmet, her HUD flashing a dire story of the woman she loves struggling against the inevitability of space. Every breath feels like a betrayal, every beat of her heart a reminder that Alexis might not get another one. Tali’s hands shake as she presses her palm to her chest, her heart breaking with every passing second.

“Keelah... Alexis, please,” she whispers, her voice shivering with grief and hope, her entire body curling in on itself, her fingers clawing against her chestplate. She feels the overwhelming sense of helplessness engulfing her, her inability to do anything to help the person she loves tearing her apart. She wishes, prays, that somehow Alexis can hear her, that somehow her voice can reach across the cold void of space and give her strength.

“She’s not giving up,” Garrus says suddenly, his eyes still glued to the viewport. His voice is firm, a conviction in it that cuts through the fear in Tali’s chest. “You know Shepard. She’s too damn stubborn to let this be the end. She’ll find a way.”

Tali looks at him, her eyes red behind her visor, her heart aching. She wants to believe him—wants so desperately to believe that Alexis will make it, that she’ll fight her way back to them like she always has. But the numbers flashing across her HUD are unforgiving, the oxygen levels dropping, the temperatures plummeting, the warnings blaring in her ears a cruel reminder of how fragile the line between life and death truly is.

“She has to,” Tali whispers, her voice cracking, her hands pressing against her chest. “She has to come back.” She closes her eyes, her body trembling, her breath shuddering as she clings to that hope, to that belief, even as fear gnaws at the edges of her heart. She knows the odds are against Alexis, that the vacuum of space is unforgiving, but she also knows Alexis’s strength, her will to fight, her refusal to give up.

The escape pod shudders again, and Tali opens her eyes, her gaze locking onto the viewport, watching the Normandy’s destruction fade into the distance, the dark shape of the attacking vessel still looming. She clenches her jaw, her heart pounding, her hands tightening into fists as she watches.

Tali’s heart pounds harder in her chest as the red alarms continue flashing across her visor. Each beep feels like a hammer against her mind, each warning pulse another reminder that time is slipping away. The connection with Alexis starts to flicker, growing weaker, static filling her HUD, causing Tali's breath to catch in her throat. “No, no, please hold on...” she whispers desperately, her fingers trembling as she watches the data falter. 

She watches the numbers drop, oxygen levels reaching critical. Alexis's vitals are a jagged mess on her display—heart rate spiking erratically before it slows. The suit power indicator flashes a final, pitiful warning, the connection struggling to hold, the data on her visor fragmenting. Tali's world narrows to that tiny screen—she doesn’t hear Garrus calling her name, doesn’t register the chaos around her in the escape pod. All she can see, all she can think about is Alexis.

And then, in an instant, the connection dies. It cuts off, leaving Tali staring at a blank screen, the suit status of the woman she loves simply vanishing. Her HUD flashes an error, desperately trying to reconnect, but there is nothing to reach. The cold void of space takes Alexis from her, leaving Tali with nothing but an empty display and a hollow, aching pain deep in her chest.

Her body goes numb, the tears spilling freely down her face, her heart stopping in that awful silence. “No...” she whispers, her voice breaking, her entire body shuddering. She wants to scream, wants to tear her helmet off, to do something—anything—but she can't. The sense of finality wraps around her like a shroud, and she feels her hope drain away like the oxygen from Alexis’s suit. 

“Alexis... please...” she chokes out, her hands pressing against her chestplate, her fingers digging into the armour as if she could somehow force her own strength into Alexis, as if somehow that could bring her back. But the silence, the empty HUD, tells her what she refuses to accept.

Beside her, Garrus’s mandibles are tight against his face, his expression a mix of pain and disbelief. He places a hand on Tali’s shoulder, squeezing gently, his eyes softening as he sees her breaking apart. “Tali...” he begins, his voice low, heavy with sorrow. He knows there are no words that can truly help, nothing that can fill the void left by the loss of Alexis.

Tali doesn’t look at him, her eyes locked on the empty display, her tears blurring her vision, her heart splintering into pieces. She shakes her head, her breaths shallow, her entire body trembling. “She promised... she promised she’d come back,” Tali whispers, her voice cracking with every word, the agony palpable in each syllable. 

Garrus tightens his grip on her shoulder, his own heart aching at the sight of his friend in such pain, his own grief clawing at him. “I know... she fought, Tali. She fought until the end.” He looks back at the viewport, the debris of the Normandy drifting away, swallowed by the vastness of space. He closes his eyes, a deep sense of loss settling over him.

Tali curls in on herself, her body racked with silent sobs, her chest burning with the grief that consumes her. Her entire world feels like it's collapsing, the weight of the moment crushing her, the emptiness left behind by Alexis’s absence tearing her apart. She clutches her chest, her fingers digging in, her breaths shaky, shallow. 

“Keelah se’lai, Alexis,” she whispers, her voice breaking, her heart shattering as she speaks the words, her entire being aching with the hope that somehow, somewhere, Alexis can still hear her.

But the silence, the empty HUD, and the cold expanse of space offer no reply.

Chapter 18: XVIII

Summary:

Memorial and next steps

Notes:

An almost full Tali POV chapter!
Bit shorter, and will generally be a bit shorter chapters for ME2 (current plan anyway), I loved the big long chapters but they just took so much out of me for writing.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XVIII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Tali stares off into space, her entire body numb. The days following the Normandy's destruction have been the worst of her life. Losing Alexis is a pain she can't describe. She'd finally found someone she truly connected with, and now that person is gone.

Alexis's death and the destruction of the Normandy have left Tali feeling completely lost. Without the Normandy, what can she do now? Could she wander the galaxy as just another random Quarian? She hasn't spoken to any Quarians who've done that apart from Mari, but Tali knows she couldn't do it. She's not the kind of person who runs away—not when it feels like abandoning the galaxy Alexis was so determined to save.

There is only one thing she can do, and she's already started the process. Tali has sent word to the Quarian Flotilla that she will be returning in less than a week. They responded with their current trajectory and a few messages from her Aunt Shala'Raan, who expressed both her joy at Tali's return and her condolences for the loss of the ship she served on, and of Alexis.

Tali wanted to be angry at Joker. She wanted to be furious and blame him for Alexis's death. But after seeing the pilot completely shattered by what happened, all her rage drained away. Blaming him, or anyone else, would do nothing but intensify the pain she already feels. It would only add more pain to someone else who doesn't deserve it.

Anger isn't an emotion Tali often feels, and it has only worsened everything about losing Alexis. Letting it go, accepting that the pain is likely never going to disappear, is one of the hardest things she's ever done. She can still feel the agony deep inside, and being here at Alexis's funeral only forces it to bubble back up.

Tali's chest rises and falls as she tries to contain the sudden wave of emotion. She quickly turns off her suit's speakers, not wanting any of the Normandy's crew around her to realize that she's crying. Tears track down her cheeks, and small, muffled sobs echo in her ears, the sound trapped inside her helmet.

She feels a deep sense of isolation, even standing amidst the surviving crew of the Normandy. The speeches, the solemn music, the stories being shared—they all seem distant, as though she's watching it from another world. Alexis was more than just a commander; she was a light in Tali's life, something bright and warm that she could hold onto, and now that light is gone. The emptiness feels impossible to fill.

Wrex is the only one to notice anything wrong with their Quarian companion. He knows the pain she's feeling all too well. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he's fallen for several people over his centuries of life, and lost all of them. One or two he'd been forced to kill himself; others had died in one way or another. He knows Tali wouldn't want anyone else to notice, given how she's standing at the edge of their small group, doing her best to stay out of everyone's line of sight.

The Krogan suddenly appears in front of Tali, his hulking figure blocking out the world around her. He gently places a hand on her shoulder, his touch surprisingly soft for someone of his size, and gestures towards a hallway that leads off from the main room. Wrex leads the way, with Tali following somewhat confusedly, her mind still clouded by grief. Once they're out of sight, Wrex finally speaks, his voice a low rumble that somehow carries comfort in its roughness. 

"Don't hold it in."

"What?" Tali's voice cracks, her confusion deepening as she looks up at the Krogan.

"Any of it. It'll only make it worse," Wrex says, his tone firm but not unkind.

"I..." Tali can't deny that this is what she's been doing—hiding her pain from everybody. She can feel it getting worse, her chest rising and falling more rapidly the longer she tries to contain it. The pressure inside her feels like it's going to break her, and the thought terrifies her. She doesn't want to be seen as weak, not now, not after everything.

Almost on instinct, she flings herself at the Krogan, wrapping her arms around his massive chest, her fingers gripping tightly onto his armour. She lets her head fall forward so that even through her mask, Wrex can't see her face. The sobs come quickly, her body trembling as she finally lets go of the control she's been trying to maintain since the moment the Normandy was attacked.

Wrex stands there, a little shocked at first, his eyes widening slightly. But he quickly recovers, folding his arms around Tali in return, patting her back lightly. He's not exactly the greatest person for this, but he knows Tali won't let it out otherwise. After centuries, he's learned that running away from anything—whether problems or pain—only makes it worse when it finally catches up. And grief, as he's seen time and again, is no different.

"Let it out, kid," Wrex murmurs, his voice so low that only Tali can hear it through her helmet. "You can't carry it all alone."

Tali sobs harder at his words, her tears coming faster now, her chest heaving with the force of her cries. The pain feels like it's tearing her apart from the inside, and she hates it, hates feeling this weak and exposed. But she knows Wrex is right. She can't carry it alone—not this time.

They stand together for several minutes, Tali's crying finally slowing until it settles into a dull ache. Her breathing becomes less ragged, and she feels the tightness in her chest ease, if only just a little. Wrex feels her breathing return to normal and steps back, leaving one hand on her shoulder. He looks down at her, waiting for her to speak first.

Tali keeps her eyes downcast, her fingers still trembling slightly as she grips the edge of her suit's armour. Wrex doesn't push her to look up. This isn't something he can rush, and he knows that. He also knows that she's stronger than she realizes, even if she doesn't feel like it right now.

"I'm here if you need me, Tali," Wrex says, his voice gentle, a tone that very few people ever hear from him.

Tali finally looks up at him, the seriousness in Wrex's eyes telling her that he means every word. She nods, her voice quiet but sincere, "Thank you, Wrex."

Wrex gives her a small nod, a rare show of emotion in his eyes. He steps back, his hand slipping from her shoulder, and gestures with his head towards the main room. "Come on. Let's get back. They're probably wondering where you went."

Tali takes a deep breath, steadying herself before she follows Wrex back towards the main room. Her heart still aches, the emptiness still there, but it's not as crushing as it was before. She knows that it will take time—time to heal, time to find a way to move forward without Alexis. But she also knows she's not alone. And for now, that's enough.

They both move back into the main room, rejoining the crowd of the Normandy's surviving crew. Tali takes her place at the edge of the group once more, her presence quieter but no longer as withdrawn. She watches as the ceremony continues, listening to the words being spoken, letting herself feel the grief instead of hiding from it.

The memorial room is small, barely large enough to hold everyone who wants to say their final goodbyes. Tali's gaze is fixed on a particular image set up against the rear wall, her heart twisting painfully. Alexis’s eyes, filled with determination, look back at her from the photograph. It’s a picture she remembers well, one taken by the crew when Alexis had just been made a Spectre. She’d been so proud, her confident grin making everyone around her smile. That grin had reassured Tali more times than she could count, made her believe that no matter how dire the situation, they could get through it. And now… now there’s nothing but a hollow emptiness where that hope used to be.

Tali pulls her eyes away, trying to focus on the rest of the room. Mari'Saalas, Alexis’s adoptive mother, stands a few steps away. The Quarian's presence makes Tali’s heart ache all the more. Mari’s hood is pulled up, her posture rigid as she stares at the image of Alexis. There’s no sound from her, no visible movement, but Tali can see the way her shoulders tremble slightly, as if she’s barely holding herself together. Tali wants to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her how much her daughter had meant to her, but the words catch in her throat, the weight of her grief rendering her mute.

Capitan Anderson takes his place at the podium, the sombre gathering of the Normandy’s surviving crew and allies falling silent as they look to him. He takes a deep breath, the weight of the moment heavy on his shoulders. His eyes scan the crowd, seeing the familiar faces of those who served alongside Shepard, the people who trusted her and believed in her.

“I’d like to say a few words of my own.” Anderson grips the sides of the podium hard, steadying himself as he looks down for a moment before raising his gaze. “Commander Shepard was unlike anyone I have ever met. And I very much doubt I will meet anyone like her ever again.”

His voice is strong, but there is an undeniable crack of emotion behind it. “Her bravery, her sheer refusal to stand by any sort of injustice when she could do something about it—no matter the risk. That was who she was. Shepard never backed down, not once. She faced impossible odds time and again, and she always found a way through. I aspire to be half the person she was.”

He pauses, the silence of the crowd almost deafening, the wind carrying a soft rustle through the memorial. Anderson looks down, searching for the right words to honour someone like Alexis'Shepard. “Soldiers like her are rare. Few could match her skill or her ferocity on the battlefield. But people like Shepard… they’re even rarer. Her integrity, her compassion, the way she inspired all of us—those were the things that truly set her apart. She was a beacon of hope when we needed it most.”

His eyes flicker over to the crew, catching sight of Tali and Wrex standing together. Seeing them, seeing the unity in this group of survivors, he feels the ache of loss even more sharply. Alexis’s impact on them, on all of them, is unmistakable. He takes another breath, his grip on the podium tightening.

“She inspired me from the day we met to be a better person. I don’t know what it was about her, but I couldn’t help but trust her. She had that way about her—a sense of purpose, of unwavering conviction. Shepard believed in what she was doing, and she made you believe too.” He swallows, his voice dropping, a soft tremor barely noticeable. “I will miss Shepard for the person she was, the leader she was… and the friend she became. She was the kind of person that made you better just by being around her.”

Anderson lets his words hang in the air for a moment, the crowd silent, many with tears in their eyes. He nods, his gaze steadying as he looks out over the gathering. “We honour her today not just for what she did, but for who she was. For the lives she touched, the hope she brought us, and the example she set. It’s up to all of us now to carry on her legacy, to keep fighting, to keep believing, even when the odds seem impossible.”

He steps back from the podium, his heart heavy, but also filled with a sense of resolve. As he looks out at the faces of those who knew and loved Shepard, he knows that her spirit, her strength, lives on in each of them.

A soft sound pulls Tali from her thoughts, and she glances over to see Mari’s hand trembling slightly as she walks forward to step up to the podium. Anderson nods to her in passing, his face filled with sorrow.

Mari'Saalas stands at the front of the gathered crowd, her Quarian suit reflecting the muted light of the ceremony room. She takes a deep breath, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she places them on the edges of the podium. The air is heavy with grief, and the weight of her words presses against her chest, but she knows she must speak—not just for herself, but for Alexis.

“I would like to share a few words about my daughter,” Mari begins, her voice steady but filled with emotion that crackles through the speakers of her helmet. “Alexis'Shepard vas Normandy was many things to the galaxy—a hero, a commander, a protector of all. But to me, she was something much more precious. She was my child.”

A moment of silence passes, the room filled only with the sound of soft, shared breaths. Mari looks up, her bioluminescent freckles glowing faintly beneath her visor, as she continues, “Alexis was born into a world full of hardship and loss, and though her origins were human, she found a home with me, in the culture of my people. I remember her as a little girl, curious about everything—about the ships we lived on, about the universe beyond, about who she was meant to be.” She pauses, her voice growing softer, “She called me 'mama' the first time I cradled her to sleep, and that was the moment I knew she was mine.”

A few murmurs ripple through the crowd, people looking on with a mixture of sympathy and admiration. Mari swallows hard, her fingers gripping the edge of the podium tightly. “Raising Alexis was never easy,” she says with a small, sad smile that only the closest people to her could discern in her voice. “She had a fire in her, a drive that made her push against boundaries and limitations. She wasn't afraid to stand up for what she believed in, even when it made others uncomfortable. Even as a child, she faced people who doubted her—who saw only her suit and assumed the worst. But she never let them define her.”

Mari takes a breath, her voice cracking slightly as she continues, “When Alexis told me she was joining the Alliance, I was scared. I feared the universe would break her, that the dangers out there would take away that light she carried inside her. But, in true Alexis fashion, she did the exact opposite. She shined brighter. She fought for others, for the things that mattered, for those who could not fight for themselves.”

Mari pauses, her gaze drifting upwards as if she can see the stars beyond the ceiling of the room. “There were so many times I wanted to call her back, to beg her to come home. But Alexis had a heart that was too big for one place. She belonged to the galaxy, to the people who needed her. She carried the spirit of the Migrant Fleet within her—a spirit of resilience, of hope, of always striving to do better. She believed in a future where all could be free, where all could live without fear. And she dedicated everything she was to making that future a reality.”

A small, soft trill escapes her, a sound of aching nostalgia. “I wasn't there for every battle she fought. I wasn't there to see her go after those who attacked Elysium or to protect the Council. But I was there in her heart, and she was always in mine. She made choices that saved millions, and she made sacrifices that no one else could. And even when she was far away, she never forgot who she was. She never forgot that I loved her.”

Mari lowers her head for a moment, her voice trembling. “To the rest of you, Alexis was a hero—the first Alliance Spectre, a legend among legends. But to me, she will always be that little girl who asked me why the stars twinkled, who wanted to know if the Quarian fleet could reach them someday.” Her voice cracks fully now, and she doesn’t try to hide it. “I believed, with all my heart, that she could have reached those stars. And perhaps now... perhaps now, she has.”

She looks up, her eyes glistening behind the visor. “Thank you, Alexis. For being brave, for being strong, for giving hope to so many. And thank you for loving me, for letting me be your mother. I am so proud of you, my child.” Her voice softens to a whisper, “Keelah se'lai, Lexi.”

Mari takes a step back, her legs feeling heavy, the crowd holding its collective breath as her words settle over them. She nods to Anderson, who gives her a solemn nod of respect. Slowly, she returns to her place at the side of the memorial, her heart heavy yet filled with the pride of a mother who knows her daughter touched the stars she always dreamed of.

As Mari steps away from the podium, she feels a rush of emotion she can barely contain. The tears she has been holding back for days threaten to spill over, and her body trembles beneath her suit. The grief is a storm inside her—a storm that she knows will not pass easily. But even through the pain, there is a sense of peace. She knows that Alexis lived her life exactly as she wanted, that she fought for what she believed in, and that she made a difference. And that, in the end, is what matters most.

The ceremony continues, with more people stepping forward to share their memories of Alexis. Each story brings a new wave of emotion—laughter, tears, pride. Mari listens to each one, her heart swelling with love for her daughter and the incredible person she became. She thinks of the nights spent on the ship, Alexis asking her endless questions about the stars, about the Quarian way of life, about the universe. She thinks of the determination in her daughter's eyes, the fierce loyalty that burned within her, and the warmth that made her so deeply loved by everyone she met.

Wrex comes forward, his heavy footsteps echoing slightly as he approaches the coffin, looking down at the empty vessel. His voice is gruff, but beneath it lies a raw, unfiltered emotion. “Krogan don’t normally do this kind of thing,” he begins, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regards the casket. “We don’t even have funerals. The dead are just that. But… I made an exception for you, Shepard.” He takes a deep breath, his broad chest rising and falling slowly. “You were more Krogan than most could ever dream of being. You fought with honour, with strength, and you stood by your people no matter what.” He pauses, his eyes glinting with a mixture of pride and sorrow. “If there is an afterlife or whatever, I’ll see you there. Maybe we can finally have that sparring match, and then I’ll drink you under the table.” A rare smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he lets out a deep, rumbling chuckle. “Goodbye, Shepard.” He steps back, his gaze lingering on the coffin for a moment longer before he turns away, his heart heavy with respect.

Ashley steps forward next, stopping a step short of actually standing next to the coffin. She shifts her weight slightly, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. “You taught me a lot, Shepard,” she says, her voice carrying a quiet strength. “I wasn’t the same person I am now as I was when I met you. I’m better. A better soldier, a better person, better… everything.” She takes in a shaky breath, her eyes glistening as she looks at the casket. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you did for me. You saved me in more ways than one. You pulled me up when I needed it most, and you pushed me to be more than I ever thought I could be.” Her voice softens, almost breaking, “I hope you made it to Heaven. If anyone deserves to be there, it’s you.” She reaches out, resting her fingertips gently on the edge of the coffin, her head bowing slightly. “Goodbye, Shepard. I’ll keep fighting, just like you taught me.”

Liara steps up next, her blue fingers brushing lightly over the smooth timber. She takes a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment as she centres herself. “Shepard, I…” Her voice falters for a second, her gaze softening as she finds the strength to continue. “We didn’t know each other that long, but if I’m being honest, you were the first person in almost my entire life who I could call a friend.” She pauses, her voice trembling slightly. “I was always that weird one—the researcher who was too interested in Protheans, too lost in my books and theories. People kept their distance. But not you.” Her eyes glisten, her lips curling into a sad smile. “You saw me. You saw who I really was, and you accepted me. You made me feel like I belonged. The Asari believe that we’re never really gone. We might go to be with the Goddess, but we leave a part of ourselves behind.” A few tears spill down her cheeks, her voice barely above a whisper, “Thank you, Shepard. For being you. For showing me what friendship truly means.” She steps back, her fingers lingering on the coffin for a heartbeat before she lets go, her tears falling freely.

Garrus is the next to approach, the lone Turian at the funeral. He folds his hands in front of him, his mandibles twitching slightly. “Before you came along, I was a C-Sec officer in a dead-end job,” he begins, his voice rough but steady. “Too brash to follow orders to the letter, but breaking too few rules for them to get rid of me. You got me away from that, showed me what real justice looks like. You showed me what it meant to fight for something bigger than myself.” He pauses, his gaze dropping to the coffin, a heaviness settling in his chest. “But now… I don’t know what to do with myself. Going back to C-Sec feels like a slap in the face to everything I did while we took down Saren and fought Sovereign.” He lets out a breath, his eyes narrowing slightly. “They’ve asked me back, but I… I can’t go back. I’m not going to. I can’t go back to all the corruption, the injustice, the hypocrisy.” He reaches up with both hands, removing the visor from over his eye. He holds it in his hands for a moment, the weight of it suddenly feeling heavier than ever before. Slowly, he places it on top of Shepard’s coffin, his voice low. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I hope it would make you proud. Goodbye, Shepard.” He steps back, his mandibles flaring slightly as he struggles to keep his composure.

Doctor Chakwas approaches, her gaze downcast, her hands clasped in front of her. She looks down at her feet for a moment before lifting her eyes to the coffin. “You always seemed invincible, Shepard,” she says softly, her voice carrying a hint of warmth. “Despite everything you’ve been through, you never let it break you. You were easily the most frustrating patient I’ve ever had, and yet, my favourite.” A small, bittersweet smile touches her lips. “I realize it sounds terrible, but I almost looked forward to you injuring yourself, just so I could see that you were still a person under all the bravado. You were a person, with all the flaws and vulnerabilities that came with it. And yet, you never hesitated to put yourself in harm’s way for others.” She glances back, her eyes finding Tali standing a few meters away. “I’m sorry you never got to see what could have been. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more.” She draws in a shaky breath, her voice breaking slightly. “Goodbye, Commander. You were the best of us.” She steps back, her heart heavy, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Joker watches Chakwas move away, his heart pounding in his chest, unsure of what he could possibly say to the wooden box that he knows to be empty in front of him. He hobbles forward, his limp more pronounced than usual, and takes off the cap of his dress uniform, holding it tightly in his hands. “I’m sorry, Shepard,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry that I’m the reason everyone is here. I’m sorry I’m the reason your mother doesn’t have a daughter anymore.” His eyes close, tears rolling down his cheeks, his face contorting with pain. “I’m just… sorry.” He swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. “I wish I could’ve done more. I wish I could’ve saved you. You deserved better.” He places his cap on the edge of the coffin, his hand trembling. “Goodbye, Shepard.” He steps back, his shoulders slumping, the weight of his guilt pressing heavily on him as he turns away, his heart breaking with every step.

Tali steps forward, her breath trembling as she approaches the coffin. Her hands rest on the edge, her fingers tightening on the smooth wood as if the coffin could somehow bring her closer to Alexis. She takes a deep breath, her voice barely a whisper through her helmet, “Alexis… I don’t even know where to start.” She pauses, her throat tightening. “You… you made me feel like I was home, even when we were light-years away from the Flotilla. You never saw me as just another Quarian or an engineer. You saw me. You made me feel like I mattered.” Her voice breaks, and she quickly reaches up to brush away the tears that fall inside her visor. “I… I always wanted to tell you… just how much you changed my life. You gave me hope, a reason to believe that maybe… maybe there was a place for me beyond the Migrant Fleet.”

She pauses, her voice shaking. “I was so scared when we lost the Normandy. I was scared that I’d never get to see you again, that I’d never get to tell you everything I should have said.” Her hands tremble as she strokes the coffin, as if trying to hold onto Alexis one last time. “I just… I hope you knew. I hope you knew how much I loved you. How much I still love you.” The finality of the moment crashes into her, and she feels her heart break all over again. “Keelah se’lai, my love. Rest well, Alexis.”

She steps back, her body trembling as she forces herself to turn away, the ache in her chest almost unbearable. She moves back to the edge of the group, wrapping her arms around herself as she watches the coffin, her heart heavy with grief and loss.

When the ceremony ends, Mari stands once more, joining the other mourners as they make their way to the memorial wall. She places a hand on the plaque that bears Alexis's name, her fingers tracing the letters slowly. “Keelah se'lai, my child,” she whispers again, her voice thick with emotion. “May you find peace among the stars.”

Unable to stay still any longer, Tali takes a step forward, closing the distance between herself and Mari. She reaches out, her hand resting gently on the older Quarian’s arm. Mari turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting Tali’s through her visor. For a moment, there’s no need for words—their shared grief, their shared love for Alexis, is enough. Mari reaches up, covering Tali’s hand with her own, her touch warm despite the gloves they both wear.

“She was proud of you,” Mari whispers, her voice barely audible. “She loved you, Tali.”

Tali nods, her vision blurring with fresh tears. “I loved her too,” she manages, her voice breaking. “More than anything.”

Mari pulls her into a gentle embrace, and Tali lets herself be held, her body shaking with silent sobs. She clings to Mari, feeling the older Quarian’s strength, the warmth of her presence. It’s a small comfort, but it’s something—a reminder that she’s not alone in her grief, that Alexis’s memory will live on in those who loved her.

Tali pulls away from Mari, her heart heavy as she steps toward the wall of photographs. She reaches up, her fingers brushing across Alexis’s image, her tears falling freely now. “Keelah se'lai, Alexis,” she whispers, her voice filled with all the love she never had the chance to say. “I’ll carry you with me, among the stars, always.”

Tali lingers for a moment, her hand still resting on the photograph, her mind filled with memories of Alexis. She remembers the way Alexis had laughed, the sound always so full of warmth and confidence, the way she could make even the most dire situations seem manageable. She remembers the way Alexis had held her, arms strong and comforting, a place where Tali had felt safe and loved. It’s those moments that make the loss all the more painful, but it’s also those moments that she clings to now, the memories that keep Alexis alive in her heart.

Tali turns back to Mari, her eyes meeting hers through their visors, and Tali sees the grief mirrored in the older Quarian’s gaze. There’s pain there, yes, but also a strength, a determination to carry on despite the loss. Tali takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of that strength, and she nods, stepping closer to Mari, offering her arm in support. The two Quarians stand together, leaning on each other, their grief shared and their love for Alexis binding them.

The air outside is heavy and quiet, as if the universe itself mourns the loss of Alexis. Mari and Tali walk side by side, the path leading them to Mari's modest apartment in the Citadel's residential sector. The bustling sounds of the Wards seem distant, almost muted, as they make their way through the corridors. Mari's steps are steady, though her shoulders sag under the weight of the day, while Tali walks with her head slightly bowed, her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her. The silence between them feels profound, filled with the shared absence of the person they both loved so deeply.

For a while, they don't speak. Words feel inadequate, and the silence between them is thick with the presence of Alexis—memories of her laughter, her smile, her unyielding spirit. As they reach Mari's apartment, the door slides open with a quiet hiss, and they step inside. The soft hum of the environmental systems greets them, a small, comforting sound amidst the chaos of their hearts. The two of them stand in the decontamination lock, waiting for the seals to engage fully and to clean their suits before it allows them into the apartment. The moments stretch, and Tali finds herself staring blankly at the wall, the weight of everything pressing down on her shoulders. When the door finally opens, she almost startles, stepping into the warmth of Mari's home.

Mari motions towards the living area, her voice gentle, "Make yourself comfortable, Tali." She gestures towards a small sofa, and Tali nods, moving to sit down while Mari heads to the kitchen. A moment later, she returns with two vials of tea, the steam curling upwards as she hands one to Tali. The Quarian accepts it gratefully, her gloved hands cradling the warmth. The scent of the tea fills the space between them—a mixture of spices and herbs that remind Tali of quieter, happier times.

"She loved this tea," Mari says, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes gazing into her drink. "I remember when she was just a girl, she’d always insist on making it herself. Said it tasted better that way." A sad smile tugs at her lips, and she lets out a small, shaky laugh. "Of course, it was awful the first few times—too much honey, or not enough leaves. But she was so proud of herself. I drank every drop, no matter how it tasted."

Tali chuckles softly, the sound muffled by her helmet. "That sounds like Alexis. Always determined, always wanting to do things her own way." Her voice trembles, the ache in her chest refusing to fade, but the memory brings a warmth that she clings to. "I remember when she tried to make food for everyone. She went through so many recipes, so many mistakes. But she wouldn’t give up, even after a few... less-than-successful attempts." Tali pauses, shaking her head with a soft laugh. "She always wanted to take care of others, even when it meant burning the kitchen down. She made us all eat it, and somehow, it always tasted better just because she was so proud."

Mari’s smile widens, and she wipes at her eyes. "That’s my Alexis. She had a way of making everything feel like it mattered—like every small gesture was important. I remember when she was little, she’d stay up late to help me work on ship repairs, even though she’d fall asleep halfway through, curled up on the deck." Mari’s eyes glisten, her voice thick with emotion. "She wanted to be part of everything, to make everyone feel like they belonged. She never let anyone feel like they were on the outside."

Tali nods, her gaze distant as she thinks back to all the times Alexis had done just that for her. "She made me feel like I had a home outside of the Flotilla. She’d always check on me, even when she had a thousand other things to worry about. She’d sit with me in engineering, asking me to teach her about ship systems just so she could spend time with me." Tali’s voice softens, her heart aching with the loss. "She made me feel seen. Truly seen. It was like, for the first time, I wasn't just a Quarian on her Pilgrimage. I was someone who mattered to her."

Mari reaches out, her hand resting gently on Tali’s arm. "You meant a lot to her, Tali. She spoke of you often. The way her eyes would light up whenever she mentioned you... I knew you were special to her, likely before even she did." Mari’s voice cracks slightly, and she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I’m grateful she had you by her side. You gave her so much joy. She was always at her happiest when she was with you."

Tali’s eyes well with tears, her fingers tightening around the teacup. "I just wish I could’ve done more. I wish I could’ve saved her." Her voice breaks, the guilt and sorrow she’s been holding onto bubbling to the surface. "I keep replaying everything, wondering if there was something—anything—I could have done differently."

Mari shakes her head, her expression gentle but firm. "You gave her love, Tali. You gave her something to fight for. That’s more than anyone could ever ask. She was lucky to have you, just as much as you were lucky to have her." Mari’s voice is filled with warmth, her eyes glistening as she looks at Tali. "She knew the risks, and she took them because she believed in what she was fighting for. She was protecting all of us, and you gave her the strength to keep going."

The words hang between them, a fragile truth that brings both comfort and sorrow. Tali sets her cup down, her hands trembling slightly. "I keep thinking about all the things I didn’t say. All the moments I took for granted. I thought we had more time. I thought I’d get the chance to tell her... everything." Her voice fades, her head bowing as she struggles to contain her tears.

Mari moves closer, wrapping her arm around Tali’s shoulders, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "We all have those thoughts. But Alexis knew, Tali. She knew how much you loved her. She felt it in every moment you spent together, in every look, every touch." Mari’s voice is soft, a mother's tender reassurance. "She knew. And she loved you with all her heart. That’s something no one can ever take away."

Tali leans into the embrace, her body shaking with silent sobs, the grief she’s carried for days finally finding a release. Mari holds her, her own tears falling freely now, their shared sorrow filling the room. But amidst the grief, there is also a warmth—the warmth of knowing they are not alone in their pain, that they both carry a part of Alexis with them. Tali’s sobs gradually lessen, her breathing evening out as she finds a fragile comfort in Mari’s presence.

After a while, Mari pulls back slightly, her hand brushing against Tali’s arm. They sit in silence for a while longer, the weight of their grief balanced by the warmth of their shared memories. The pain of losing Alexis is still there, still raw, but in this moment, they find solace in each other, in the love they both hold for the woman who had changed their lives. Mari reaches for her cup, taking a slow sip, her eyes gazing out the window as the lights of the Citadel twinkle in the distance.

"Did you know, I taught Alexis to dance?" Mari says suddenly, her lips curving into a soft smile. "I insisted that she learn, told her it was an essential life skill. She must have stepped on my feet a dozen times, but she never stopped laughing. She just kept saying, 'One more time, Mom. We’ve got this.'" Mari shakes her head, a bittersweet laugh escaping her. "She was so patient, even though I could see she didn't see the point, but it came to be something we both enjoyed."

Tali smiles through her tears, nodding. "She tried to teach me. Said I was too stiff, that I needed to loosen up. We ended up just spinning around the engineering bay, laughing until we were both too dizzy to stand." Her voice softens, her heart aching with the memory. "She had this way of making everything fun, even the smallest, silliest things."

Mari’s eyes glisten as she looks at Tali. "That’s what she gave us, isn’t it? Those moments. Those memories. She filled our lives with so much joy, so much love." She takes a deep breath, her voice steadying. "And that’s what we hold onto now. The love, the laughter. It’s what keeps her alive in us."

Tali nods, her eyes meeting Mari’s, the shared understanding between them bringing a sense of peace. She whispers, her voice filled with emotion. "To Alexis. To the love she gave us, and the strength she left behind."

Mari raises her cup in a quiet toast, her eyes shimmering with tears. "To Lexi." They clink their cups gently, the soft sound echoing in the quiet of the apartment. And though the void left by Alexis’ absence will never truly be filled, Mari and Tali know that as long as they carry her memory, a part of Alexis will always be with them—in every laugh, every story, every quiet moment like this one, where love transcends even the deepest of losses.

The quiet clink of their cups fades into the background, leaving the room steeped in a gentle, reflective silence. Mari and Tali sit together, the warmth of their shared memories lingering like an invisible blanket draped around their shoulders. The dim light of the apartment casts soft shadows, and for a few moments, they let the stillness hold them, a calmness amidst the storm of grief.

Tali looks down at the nearly empty tea vial in her hands, her fingers tracing the curve of the glass. Her mind drifts, thoughts colliding and settling in the quiet spaces left behind by their stories of Alexis. There is a sense of peace, but there is also something else—an ache, a need for something more. Tali knows what it is, and as her heart begins to race, she glances over at Mari.

Mari has her eyes closed, the corners of her lips tugged upward slightly as though she’s savoring a memory. Tali hesitates, her throat suddenly dry. She takes a breath, steadying herself before she speaks, her voice quiet but resolute.

"Mari," she begins, her voice trembling slightly as she forces the words to come out, "I… I’ve been thinking. About what comes next." She pauses, her gaze drifting down to her hands, her fingers tightening around the glass vial.

Mari opens her eyes, her gentle gaze settling on Tali, sensing the gravity of her words. "What is it, dear?" she asks softly, her voice filled with a motherly warmth that brings a lump to Tali’s throat.

Tali swallows, gathering her thoughts, her heart pounding against her ribs. "The fleet... the Migrant Fleet is my home, it’s what I've always been told but it never felt right," she admits, her voice raw with emotion. "I thought my Pilgrimage would help me find something more, and it did, but it wasn't the Fleet. It was Alexis, it was the Normandy. And now... without her, I don't know how to go back and feel like it's enough. But..." She glances at Mari, her eyes glistening behind her visor. "I think... if you were there, it could be different."

Mari's brow furrows slightly, her eyes softening as she watches Tali struggle to find the right words. "Tali, what are you saying?"

Tali takes a deep breath, her voice trembling as she continues, "Come with me. Come back to the Fleet with me. You were a Marine before you chose to leave, and I think... I think it would mean a lot. To me, and to the Fleet, to have you there. They'd welcome you back, I know they would. And... maybe it could help. Maybe we could help each other, find a new home together."

Mari's eyes widen in surprise, her lips parting as she takes in Tali's words. For a moment, she is silent, her gaze searching Tali's face for something—perhaps the sincerity, the hope, or maybe the shared longing that they both carried within them. She sets her tea down, reaching across the small table to take Tali's hands in her own, her fingers brushing against the fabric of Tali's gloves.

"Tali," she says softly, her voice cracking slightly as her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "You don't know how much that means to me. To be given a chance to belong somewhere again... with losing Alexis, I wasn't sure if I ever would."

Tali’s eyes well with tears, her heart aching with both hope and grief. "You belong, Mari. With the Fleet, with me. Alexis loved you more than anything, and I... I care for you so deeply. We can make it through this, together. You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone."

Mari’s fingers tighten around Tali’s, and she smiles, tears rolling down her cheeks as she nods. "Thank you, Tali. For giving me something to hold onto. I... I think Alexis would want this, want us to find each other and keep going. She wouldn’t want me to disappear into my grief." She takes a deep breath, her voice trembling with emotion. "I would be honoured to come with you, to find a new home with you."

Tali feels her heart swell, a mixture of relief, sadness, and hope washing over her. She squeezes Mari’s hands, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you."

They sit there, hands intertwined, their hearts filled with the pain of their loss but also with a glimmer of something else—something precious, something Alexis had given them both. A new beginning. Together, they would honor Alexis's memory by finding a way to live, to love, and to belong. And in that shared promise, they both find a small measure of comfort.

Mari wipes at her tears, her smile growing as she looks at Tali. "I suppose I’d better get ready for the Fleet then, shouldn’t I? Something tells me it’s going to be quite an adventure."

Tali laughs softly, her heart lighter than it has been in days. "Oh, it will be. It’s not always easy, but it’s a family. And now, it’ll be our family." She pauses, her voice softening as she adds, "Alexis would want that. For us to find a new place to call home."

Mari nods, her gaze faraway for a moment, her eyes filled with both sorrow and hope. "Then let's make her proud. Together."

They sit in silence after that, the weight of their shared promise settling between them, a comforting reminder that they are not alone. The lights of the Citadel flicker beyond the windows, casting a warm glow over them as they sit side by side, ready to face whatever the future holds. For Alexis. For each other. For the family they will build together, a family forged from love, loss, and the enduring strength of the woman who brought them both together.

~~~~

The Citadel’s docks are bustling, the ever-busy centre of activity filled with chatter and the sounds of ships preparing for departure. Among the chaos, there’s a quieter corner where members of the Normandy’s crew gather—a farewell gathering for Tali’Zorah, who stands with Mari beside her, her heart heavy with both sadness and purpose.

Tali takes a deep breath, her eyes taking in the familiar faces before her—friends, family, and comrades-in-arms. This is it, her last goodbye to the people who have been her second family, those who had fought and laughed alongside her. It’s hard to look at them, to see the pain in their eyes that mirrors her own. The absence of Alexis looms large in the gathering, the wound still fresh, but there is also love and gratitude in each glance she exchanges.

“Joker,” Tali says, her voice soft as she turns to face him. He’s standing beside her, cap tipped back, his trademark grin replaced by a more solemn expression. “Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

Joker lets out a small chuckle, though it’s strained. “No promises. But, hey, I’ll try.” He pauses, swallowing. “Take care of yourself, Tali.”

Tali’s eyes crinkle behind her visor as she nods. “I will, Joker. Keelah se’lai.” She reaches out, giving his arm a gentle pat. He nods, blinking back the moisture in his eyes before stepping back, letting the next person step forward.

“Tali,” Garrus says, his mandibles flaring slightly, his voice quiet. He folds his arms across his chest, looking down at her. “I’m not much for goodbyes, so let’s not call it that. Let’s say… see you later.” He smiles, the corners of his eyes softening. “The dream team isn’t done yet. We’ll see each other out there, one way or another.”

Tali feels her throat tighten, her emotions threatening to overflow. She places a hand on Garrus’ forearm, her voice trembling. “See you later, Garrus. Just watch your back, okay? I won’t be around to patch up that stubborn hide of yours.”

“I’ll do my best,” he replies, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “We’ll miss you, Tali.”

Liara approaches next, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She reaches for Tali’s hands, her touch gentle. “Tali, I’m so proud of you. You’re going back to help your people… something only you can do. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to say goodbye.”

“You’ve become my sister, Liara,” Tali says, her voice barely a whisper. “I’ll miss you so much. Thank you for everything.” She pulls Liara into an embrace, holding her close as the tears they’ve been holding back finally fall.

Wrex steps forward after Liara, his heavy boots clanging against the deck, a low rumble escaping his chest. “Ah, don’t get all sentimental on me, Tali’Zorah. You’re tougher than that,” he says, but there’s a warmth in his tone that makes her smile. “Just know, if you need someone to knock heads together, I’m a comm call away.”

Tali chuckles through her tears. “I’ll keep that in mind, Wrex. Thank you for everything—for always having my back.”

“Always,” he grunts, giving her a pat that makes her stagger slightly. “Take care of yourself, kid.”

Finally, Tali turns to face the gathered crew members—technicians, engineers, soldiers—all of them staring back at her with a mix of pride and sorrow. They’re her family. They had stood beside her in the hardest moments, lifted her up when she stumbled, fought by her side when the odds were against them. And now, she’s leaving.

“Thank you all,” she says, her voice carrying across the dock. “Thank you for being my family when I needed one. I hope we meet again… somewhere out there among the stars.”

Mari steps up beside Tali, their fingers intertwining as they both turn to face the shuttle waiting for them. There’s a heaviness in the air, an unspoken finality to this farewell, but there’s also hope—hope for what they’re setting out to do. Hope that, one day, they’ll be reunited.

As they walk towards the shuttle, Tali looks back over her shoulder one last time. Her gaze sweeps over the faces of those she loves, the people she had fought beside, the friends who became her family. She lifts her hand in a final, silent salute.

With one last look, Tali and Mari board the shuttle, the door closing behind them. As the shuttle lifts away, Tali keeps her gaze locked on the view—on the Citadel, on the people she loves. She closes her eyes, a mixture of sorrow and determination swelling within her.

“We’ll see them again,” Mari says softly, her voice steady, comforting. Tali nods, her eyes still closed, a single tear escaping down her cheek.

“Yes. We will,” Tali whispers, her heart filled with a sense of both loss and purpose. She knows that this isn’t the end—not really. And someday, out there among the stars, she’ll find her way back to them.

~~~~

The stars blur into streaks of light as the shuttle approaches the Migrant Fleet, a vast collection of ships nestled together in the darkness of space like a close-knit family. The view is both familiar and different this time for Tali. She sits in silence beside Mari, her fingers tightening slightly around the armrests as they close the distance to their destination. Mari, calm and steady, watches the ships grow larger with an expression that blends nostalgia, sadness, and hope. The ships—her old home, now perhaps her new one—spark a wave of emotions that she is not yet sure how to untangle.

“The Rayya...” Mari says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Tali follows her gaze to the massive silhouette of the live-ship, one of the largest in the Migrant Fleet. The Rayya looms large against the stars, its distinct form standing out as a symbol of life and survival, as well as the collective spirit of their people.

“We’ll be docking with her,” Tali says, her voice equally soft, “I’ll be presenting the Geth data to the Admiralty Board once we land. After that, we can... we’ll see where they assign us.” She turns her head slightly, her eyes catching Mari’s, the sadness there mirroring her own. “But I want you with me. No matter where they send us. If... if you want that, too.”

Mari looks back at her, a soft smile tugging at her lips beneath her visor. She reaches over, placing a hand gently atop Tali’s gloved one. “Where you go, I’ll follow. That’s what families do. And I’d be proud to be with you, wherever it is.”

The shuttle slows, coming into the hangar bay, the lights within the ship flickering as they connect with the Rayya’s power. Tali takes a breath, holding it for a moment before exhaling slowly. She’s coming back home—and this time, she isn’t alone.

The airlock door hisses open, a burst of filtered air washing over them as Tali steps out first. Mari follows closely behind, her eyes scanning the surroundings, taking in the details that had grown dusty in her memories. The hangar is busy, the whirr of machinery, the clank of footsteps, and chatter echoing in every direction. To Mari, it’s a sound she hasn’t heard in years—the bustling life of the Fleet. To Tali, it’s a sound that once symbolized the boundaries of her entire universe—and now feels like a strange echo of a time before the Normandy, before Alexis.

“Tali'Zorah nar Rayya,” a voice rings out over the noise, capturing their attention. They turn to see Admiral Shala’Raan standing with a small entourage, her expression solemn yet warm. She walks forward, her gaze shifting between Tali and Mari as she reaches them. “It’s good to see you back safe, Tali. And I see you brought a familiar face with you.”

Mari nods, her lips lifting in a small smile. “Admiral Raan. It’s been a long time.”

Raan returns the smile, a genuine warmth in her eyes. “It has. I’m glad to see you, Mari’Saalas. You’ve been missed.” She looks back at Tali, her gaze softening. “You’ve come at an important time, Tali. The Admiralty Board has been anxiously awaiting any news about the Geth. I assume you have the data we’ve heard about?”

Tali nods, bringing up her omni-tool, a series of files appearing as they flicker across her screen. “Yes, Admiral. It’s all here—everything we gathered from the Geth networks. Their movements, their communications, and everything else.”

Admiral Raan’s brow furrows slightly, but she nods, her expression a mixture of curiosity and caution. “I see. Then let’s not waste time. We’ll convene in the command chamber, and we’ll get the other Admirals there as soon as possible.” She gestures towards the door leading deeper into the ship. “And Mari, if you’d like, you’re more than welcome to join us. I’m sure your insights will be valuable.”

Mari hesitates for a moment, her eyes flickering towards Tali. A smile forms beneath her visor, her heart swelling with a renewed sense of purpose. “Of course, Admiral,” she says, “I’ll do what I can.”

As they make their way towards the command chamber, the hallways of the Rayya are bustling—Quarians in their colourful suits moving in every direction, tending to the ship's functions, chatting amongst themselves, and ensuring the smooth operation of their shared home.

She remembers these hallways, the feeling of closeness, the cramped quarters that were filled with laughter, arguments, and the constant sense of survival. It’s familiar, yet so alien after all these years away. Mari feels a pang of nostalgia and loss, but also a spark of hope. Perhaps here, with Tali, she could find her place again.

“Are you alright?” Tali asks softly as they walk, her eyes fixed on Mari with concern.

Mari nods, her fingers brushing against Tali’s arm. “I’m alright. Just... a little overwhelmed, I suppose. It’s strange to be back. But I think this... this is the right place for me to be now.” She smiles, a gentle look passing between them. “Thank you, Tali. For bringing me here. For not letting me... drift away.”

Tali’s heart tightens, and she nods. “You’re my family now, Mari. I wasn’t going to let you go. And...” she glances ahead at the Admiralty Board’s command chamber, “I think Alexis would want us to do this. To keep going. Together.”

Mari’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and she gives Tali’s arm a gentle squeeze. “She would. And we’re going to make her proud, Tali. For her... for us... and for our people.”

They continue forward, and as they step into the command chamber, Tali feels a sense of anticipation building within her. The chamber is larger than she remembered, filled with screens displaying data from every corner of the Fleet, the glowing lights illuminating the faces of the Admirals and various officers. There is an air of urgency, a reminder of the stakes involved. The future of their people could hinge on what they’ve brought back.

Admiral Han’Gerrel, Admiral Koris, Admiral Zorah, and Admiral Xen are already present, their eyes fixed on Tali and Mari as they enter. Gerrel’s expression is stern, Xen’s analytical, while Koris looks thoughtful, his eyes flickering with curiosity as he notices Mari’Saalas beside Tali. Admiral Zorah, Tali's father, stands apart slightly, his gaze lingering on his daughter with an unreadable expression—somewhere between pride, worry, and love.

“Tali’Zorah, Mari’Saalas,” Gerrel greets them, his voice a mix of authority and respect. “We’ve been waiting for this. Let’s see what you’ve brought us.”

Tali steps forward, activating her omni-tool and projecting the files into the centre of the room. The holographic images and data flicker to life, illuminating the chamber in soft blues and greens. “This is everything I've been able to decrypt from what we gathered from the Geth networks,” she begins, her voice steady despite the tension she feels. “Their movements, their communications, numbers outside of the veil. This includes parts of fragmented code that isn't Quarian or Geth in origin.”

Admiral Xen leans forward, her eyes narrowing as she examines the data. “An outside influence? Are you suggesting they’re being controlled?”

Tali nods. “We don’t have all the answers yet, but there are traces that indicate a higher directive. Something more complex than the Geth consensus alone. The Geth I have been fighting were working for something called a Reaper. I believe we need to understand this, and soon, if we’re to stand a chance against whatever they’re planning.”

The room falls into a heavy silence as the Admirals process the implications. Mari stands beside Tali, her gaze steady as she watches the exchange. She’s no longer a Marine, no longer a soldier in active service, but she feels the weight of the moment just as much as any of them. She knows that whatever comes next, they will need every ounce of strength they can muster.

Admiral Koris speaks up, his voice calm but weighted. “This is serious, Tali’Zorah. If what you’re saying is true. We need more information—whatever it takes.” He trails off, his expression thoughtful. "For now, I welcome you both back to the Fleet. Your Pilgrimage is complete, and your gift is accepted."

Admiral Zorah steps forward, his voice breaking the momentary quiet. “Tali, Mari’Saalas, you have done something incredible. Bringing us this information, risking yourselves for the future of the Fleet... I am proud of you, Tali. You have grown so much.” His eyes linger on his daughter, and there’s an emotion in his voice that makes Tali’s throat tighten. “It won’t be easy, what lies ahead. But I know you have the strength to face it.”

“Thank you, Father,” Tali replies, her voice trembling slightly. “I... I want to do what’s best for our people, for everyone. And with Mari’s help, I think we can.”

Admiral Zorah nods, his gaze softening as he turns towards Mari. “It’s good to see you again, Mari’Saalas. I know my daughter wouldn’t be here without you.”

Mari inclines her head. “Thank you, Admiral Zorah. Tali’s strength is incredible, but my daughter deserves that credit, not me, I have only just joined her journey.”

Admiral Xen steps forward, her eyes moving between them all, her expression resolute. “Then we have work to do. We must understand if these ‘Reapers’ are real and a threat. Tali, Mari, we will need your insights moving forward.”

Tali and Mari exchange a look, a silent understanding passing between them. They both nod, determination settling in their eyes. They know that the road ahead will not be easy, but they are ready to face it.

“Thank you, Admirals,” Tali says as she walks out of the room with Mari, following Admiral Raan to some temporary accommodation until they are assigned properly. Mari takes a deep breath, looking at the bustling ship around her, the energy of her people filling her senses.

The two of them settle into the crampt temporary quarters, to await the Admiralty Boards decision.

Chapter 19: XIX

Summary:

Reconstruction, memories and training.

Notes:

Final interlude chapter before ME2!

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XIX

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The edges of consciousness flicker like a faulty lightbulb, moments of awareness cutting through a deep, enveloping haze. Each flare of lucidity is a lightning strike in a dark room, briefly revealing fragments of a reality Alexis can’t fully grasp. Her mind, dulled and disoriented, clings to these glimpses as they wash over her like unrelenting waves, threatening to pull her under.

Something cold grazes her temple. It could be the frigid Cerberus lab air, or a metal instrument sliding against her skin, tracing patterns of purpose she cannot comprehend. Overhead, bright lights pulse in irregular intervals, accompanied by the beeping of distant machinery—sharp and clinical, like a metronome keeping time with her fragmented thoughts. People hover at the fringes of her vision—outlines blurred and indistinct beneath their medical masks, voices muffled by layers of glass and synthetic cloth. Their forms waver as if submerged underwater, distorting every movement and gesture, preventing any clear sense of who or what they are.

A surge of sound assaults her: the whir of complex apparatus, growing louder until it vibrates at the base of her skull. A spark crackles, high-voltage, sharp enough to make her muscles tense instinctively. The sensation is both external and oddly internal, like a current skimming through her very nerves. The air seems to pulse, thick with the scent of antiseptic and ozone. Then, abruptly, the noise cuts out—leaving a hollow quiet that hurls her back into a void so deep it feels endless.

In the next breath, a terrible cold steals over her like a freezing tide. She’s transported to another place—space, endless and black, where the metal walls of the Normandy crumble away. Air drains from her suit, and her lungs burn, grasping for oxygen that no longer exists. Panic overtakes her. She remembers her Quarian adoptive mother’s calming words during stressful zero-g drills, the soothing lullabies in Khelish she’d learned as a child. But those memories offer only faint comfort now as her body convulses, starved for breath, the icy grip of space closing in.

Her heartbeat thunders in her ears, drowning out all else. She’s dying. She knows this viscerally—she’s felt the fear of vacuum drills countless times, but nothing could prepare her for the crushing emptiness of the real thing. Then, faintly, she hears a voice:

“Creator-Shepard-Commander.”

It resonates within her mind rather than her ears, mechanical yet composed, as if someone were whispering directly into her thoughts. The words vibrate through her very being—an impossible familiarity, a connection to something far greater than herself. She doesn’t understand how or why—only that the voice soothes her even as her body rebels.

She continues gasping in silence, chest clenching tight. The voice repeats, calm yet insistent:

“Creator-Shepard-Commander.”

A second voice breaks through—human, female, tinged with panic. “Vitals are spiking! She should still be sedated!” The urgency in that tone fractures the dream of suffocation. Machinery wails in a chorus, bright lights flare painfully, and then everything dims, the sensory overload shattering into stillness.

Time ceases to matter. She drifts in and out of half-formed scenes, each disconnected from the last. A rhythmic beeping aligns with the sluggish pound of her heart. A steady hiss of pressurised air ebbs and flows with the rise and fall of her chest. Gradually, her body warms, replacing the desperate cold of space with a tingling heat that creeps along her limbs.

Her arms feel impossibly heavy, as though weighted down. Prickling sensations trace over her skin—tiny shocks, or perhaps the pulse of machinery within her. She tries to move her fingers; somewhere in the haze, they respond with a sluggish twitch. It’s a stark reminder that whatever is happening to her is far beyond a simple medical procedure.

Again, that mechanical voice emerges, softly pulsing at the edges of her mind. “Creator-Shepard-Commander.” Its presence is an odd comfort, yet it sparks confusion—an unsettling juxtaposition of familiarity and alienness.

In her swirling thoughts, she manages the faintest question—Who…? though her lips never move. Despite the silence, the voice responds:

“We are assisting with your restoration. You must endure.”

Memory slams into her: the Normandy’s hull buckling under heavy fire, the rupture of metal, the screams of her crew, and the violent explosion hurling her into space. The images overwhelm her senses, fresh terror coursing through her veins. Then the voice returns, steady and unwavering.

A calmer human voice—a man’s—cuts in: “Neural activity is off the charts. The implants are stabilising her vitals, but we have to monitor carefully.” He sounds more professional than panicked, as if walking a razor’s edge between confidence and alarm.

The mechanical voice offers soft reassurance, as though it’s standing guard within her very consciousness. “Creator-Shepard-Commander. You will adapt. You will endure.”

Suddenly, pain streaks across her body, so fierce she can’t help but moan. It’s a violent, burning sensation, unlike any injury she’s had before. She feels it burrowing deep, melding with her muscles and nerves. It reminds her of stories from her mother’s home fleet about experimental cybernetic grafts—how they fuse metal and flesh into something both more and less than organic.

Over the roaring in her ears, the voice remains steady. “Your restoration is proceeding. We are… correcting errors.”

“Vitals stabilizing,” the human woman announces again, her relief palpable. “She’s responding better than expected. Increase sedation—now.”

A faint hiss blooms in Alexis’s nostrils. She feels an almost gentle pull dragging her back into unconsciousness. Yet through the haze, the mechanical presence lingers, still connected to her in some impossible way. It does not vanish when her muscles go slack; if anything, it seems to stand vigil over her mind, guarding her from the agony that consumed her moments before.

The last thing she registers is its parting murmur, no longer a stark, clipped statement but a soft, enduring promise:

“You are Creator-Shepard-Commander. You will endure.”

~~

The edges of Alexis’s consciousness flicker, her reality shifting like a lens warping in and out of focus. One moment, there is only the cold hum of medical machinery; in the next, the sterile air dissolves into a crackling furnace of heat and smoke. She is drawn helplessly back into the memory of the Skyllian Blitz, caught in its nightmarish grip.

The sky above Elysium glows a furious orange, polluted by immense pillars of oily black smoke. Flames dance across the wreckage of once-proud buildings, their skeletal remains swaying in the scorching breeze. Even behind her Quarian-style helmet’s dual filters, Alexis can sense the ash clinging to her throat, feel the metallic tang coating her tongue. Her armor, fashioned from obsidian plates trimmed with crimson, radiates oppressive heat; smears of blood and streaks of grime mar its polished finish, a testament to the hell raging around her.

Gunfire beats an unrelenting rhythm, a pounding staccato that merges with the frantic screams of colonists. Every step, every breath, reverberates in time with the thunder of rifles echoing through the scorched streets. Her helmet’s HUD flares with urgent warnings—red indicators of hostile movement, structural collapse icons blinking ominously, and her own vital signs surging under the weight of adrenaline.

“Lexi, on your left!” Mari’Saalas’s voice jolts her to action, a lifeline amid the chaos. 

Spinning, Alexis sees a Batarian raider rushing her, teeth bared in a vicious snarl, rifle angled toward her chest. Hatred gleams in all four of his eyes. She ducks low, a move drilled into her bones by years of training, and fires twice. The first shot collapses his kinetic shield in a dazzling flash; the second buries itself deep in his skull. He drops like a marionette with severed strings, his weapon skidding across the debris-strewn ground.

“Mum, we’ve got to push them back from the central hub!” Her voice crackles over the comm, clipped but resolute. A nearby explosion rattles her teeth, rippling through the rubble underfoot.

Mari steps out from behind a twisted barricade—little more than a tangle of beams and melted metal. The faded emblem of her former Quarian marine unit clings to her chest plate, half-obscured by soot. With pinpoint precision, she squeezes off a burst of rifle fire at another squad of Batarians. They scatter like panicked animals, diving behind collapsing walls.

A flicker of movement catches Alexis’s eye. Another Batarian crouches behind what was once a storefront, raising his arm to lob a grenade. Mari’s rifle cracks, and the raider folds before he can release it. The primed explosive slips from his hand, landing among his startled comrades. A split second later, a furious detonation tears through them, scattering limbs and igniting the air with burning shards of shrapnel.

“On your lead,” Mari says, her words resolute beneath the distant roar of flames. Alexis nods sharply, holstering her pistol and hoisting her rifle from the ashen dirt. Together, they advance with the seamless unity of seasoned soldiers, mother and daughter sharing an unspoken rhythm.

Decades of Quarian marine discipline merge with Alexis’s Alliance training. She recalls long nights on cramped vessels, where Mari hammered tactics into her—how to pivot, to anticipate an enemy’s movement, to shield one another’s blind spots. That devotion has shaped Alexis into a formidable fighter. Each time Alexis steadies her aim, Mari shifts position to cover her flank; whenever Mari moves, Alexis adjusts her own vantage to ensure no raider slips past.

They push toward the colony’s central hub, where a hulking Batarian landing craft looms like a malevolent specter. Its ramp gapes open, regurgitating raiders into the twisting streets. The colonists who remain cling to overturned crates and half-collapsed walls—makeshift fortresses in a sea of chaos. Children and elders alike huddle behind sheets of dented metal, their eyes wide with terror. Alexis feels her chest tighten, a visceral ache that burns hotter than the fires licking at the ruins. She silently vows they will not fall today.

A colossal roar cleaves the cacophony. A Krogan warrior erupts from the smoke, his presence dwarfing the scattered Batarians around him. His heavily modified assault rifle spits a torrent of bullets, each impact sparking off rubble and sending fragments of concrete whizzing through the air. Every footstep he takes causes the ground to tremble, kicking up clouds of dust and ash.

“Lexi, MOVE!” Mari’s warning slices through the haze. 

Alexis hurls herself into a dive, the Krogan’s gunfire chiseling craters where she stood mere seconds before. Her shoulder plate jolts from a glancing shot, pain flaring white-hot through her nerves. She grits her teeth, landing hard but rolling upright in a single, fluid motion. The rifle in her hands barks a half-dozen times, muzzle flashes illuminating the Krogan’s armor in a shower of sparks.

He bellows, raising his weapon like a bludgeon. The bone-jarring strike sends Alexis crashing into a heap of smoldering crates. Her shields fizzle with a crackle of dissipating energy, and her ribs protest with a deep, bruising throb. Eyes swimming, she draws a sharp, hissing breath.

In a seamless transition, Mari is upon him. She sets her rifle aside in one practiced motion and levels a shotgun at the Krogan’s chest. The thunderous blasts are deafening, each recoil forcing her braced feet to dig deeper into the rubble. Every shot widens a web of cracks across the Krogan’s thick plating, until the final discharge caves in his armor entirely. He stumbles, roaring in defiance, then topples with a bone-shaking impact that sends a billow of dust into the air.

Mari whirls to find Alexis amid the swirling debris. “Can you stand?”

Teeth clenched, Alexis uses her rifle as leverage, pressing herself upright. Her muscles quake, and every breath stabs at her side, but she forces a nod. “Yeah. Thanks, Mum.”

Relief flickers behind Mari’s visor, tempered by grim resolve. “Come on. We’ve still got work to do.”

They advance through the ashen haze, flames casting dancing shadows across the fractured ground. The scorching wind howls, whipping at the sparks and embers that swirl overhead. Yet through it all, Alexis and Mari refuse to falter, their bond forged in the fires of war. Amidst the anguish and ruin of Elysium’s darkest hour, mother and daughter stand as an unbreakable bulwark, determined to carve out hope where all seems lost.

The battle around them surges like a wild storm unleashed, fierce and unrelenting. Batarians flood the blasted square in waves, their ranks seemingly endless as they press forward through the wreckage. They scramble over broken walls and twisting heaps of debris, bolstered by reinforcements pouring from low-flying shuttles that cast ominous shadows in the ember-stained sky. Muzzle flashes and plasma bursts light the smoky air, creating a macabre strobe effect that flickers across the blood-spattered ground.

Alexis’s muscles scream in protest, a testament to her unwavering resolve. Every lunge, every pull of the trigger, is an act of stubborn defiance against exhaustion and fear. Her Quarian-designed armour hums with every shift of her weight, the servos in her limbs working overtime to keep pace with her relentless movements. The shotgun in her grip bucks hard, each thunderous roar scattering stone chips and spitting scorching powder against her visor. Yet the pain in her arms only drives her forward—she will protect these people, no matter the cost.

Nearby, Mari’s rifle cracks like lightning against metal, its sharp retorts slicing through the pandemonium. The older Quarian’s aim is lethal and unerring, her bursts of concentrated fire tearing into the advancing Batarians. Together, mother and daughter carve a path through the encroaching horde, a pair of resolute figures in a sea of chaos. Smoke clings to them, wrapping their silhouettes in a shifting veil of ash and sparks.

As the tide begins to turn—Batarians stumbling over the bodies of their fallen comrades—Alexis catches sight of movement near a collapsed structure on the edge of the square. A young girl huddles there, half-buried behind an overturned crate, her wide eyes reflecting the flames devouring the colony. A towering Batarian soldier zeroes in on her, his face contorted with predatory intent.

Adrenaline floods Alexis’s veins. Ignoring the burn in her legs and the battered ache in her ribs, she breaks formation, sprinting for the child. Her boots crunch over shattered glass and twisted metal, each step resonating through her entire body. Debris kicked up by gunfire rattles off her breastplate in a percussive hail, urging her onward.

“Riy’sani!” Alexis growls in a low Quarian expletive under her breath, her frustration and urgency bleeding together. She raises her voice and shouts, “Get away from her!” even as she cocks her shotgun. Her shout is muffled by the smoky chaos, but the Batarian turns, startled. He lifts his rifle, but Alexis is faster—she pulls the trigger and the shotgun roars.

A flash of sparks erupts from the Batarian’s centre mass; the kinetic impact sends him reeling before he collapses in a heap. Stepping over the downed soldier, Alexis kneels, armour servos whining under the stress, and scoops the trembling girl into her arms. The child’s face is streaked with soot, tears cutting pale tracks through the grime. She clings to Alexis’s armoured collar, small fingers gripping metal plates as if they’re a lifeline.

“You’re safe now,” Alexis says, attempting a gentle tone in the midst of the carnage. Her own voice is laced with the faint echo typical of Quarian translation systems, her focus totally on the battle that she doesn’t think to switch to speaking a Human language. “Stay close… Keelah,” she breathes softly, the Quarian plea for guidance slipping from her lips as she hugs the child closer.

Mari, ever vigilant, provides covering fire. Her rifle’s reports ring out in swift, measured bursts that shred the tattered remains of a Batarian squad attempting to regroup. Flashes of muzzle fire illuminate her silhouette in staccato bursts, highlighting the Quarian marine emblem on her chest that has guided her for so many years.

“Fall back to the central hub!” Mari’s voice crackles through the comm, calm but laced with urgency.

Clutching the young girl, Alexis rushes toward her mother’s position. All around them, the once-furious Batarian assault begins to falter. Their lines waver and break, morale fracturing under the relentless punishment inflicted by the unyielding duo. Explosions echo from distant streets, plumes of fire and smoke rising where pockets of resistance still clash with defenders—remnants of the colony’s garrison, scattered but determined.

As Alexis and Mari guide the child to safer ground, the world starts to distort at the edges of Alexis’s vision. The roar of the battle fades to a low thrum, and the flares from rifle muzzles dim into ghostly flickers. She can feel the weight of the child in her arms draining away, replaced by a creeping numbness that gnaws at the periphery of her awareness. The heat of Elysium’s inferno gives way to a chilling emptiness, and with one jarring flicker, the sky’s furious orange hue dissolves into the stark white glare of an operating lamp.

Alexis sucks in a breath, though she barely feels her own lungs expand. Her senses reel as the firefight’s echoes dissolve into the faint hum of medical instruments. Distant voices blur into a muffled drone, a scattered chorus of anxious tones and hushed commands. Her limbs grow heavier by the second, each muscle slackening under the pull of oblivion.

She clings to the image of the child’s tear-streaked face, to the memory of the flames and smoke and the press of Mari at her side. But those images are swept away in a tide of darkness. In the final moments before sleep engulfs her once more, she hears the urgent beeping of monitors and the soft hiss of respirators. Then, with a shuddering gasp, Alexis slips away, the memory of Elysium left smouldering in the corners of her mind, an echo of battles fought and a promise that one day she will rise to fight again.

~~

A dull, electric hum burrows into her consciousness as Alexis wavers in the space between dream and waking. The sound seems to come from everywhere at once: behind her eyes, in her ears, vibrating through bones that feel as though they’ve been reforged.

She shivers. Not from cold, but from the phantom sensation of Elysium’s scorching heat giving way to a sterile chill. Swells of memory crash against the here and now—a broken carousel of firefights, ruptured hulls, and blinding surgical lamps. She wants to cling to a single frame of clarity, but each time she focuses, it slides away, replaced by a jarring new image.

Somewhere in this half-reality, she hears the distant voices of medical staff. Words like “neural graft,” “cybernetic implants,” and “stabilize” swirl in the air, muffled yet insistent. A face leans over her—indistinct, haloed by bright lights—then blurs into nothingness.

Then the dream grips her again, and she’s back on Elysium.

~~

She tastes ash and burning ozone on her tongue, her Quarian-style helmet rebreather working overtime to filter out the choking smoke. A cratered street unfolds before her, littered with the wreckage of hovercars and spattered with blood. Her heart throbs in her throat.

Mari should be here—she has to be.

But the air around her is eerily still, the roar of gunfire replaced by an ominous hush. It’s the kind of silence that scrapes at the nerves, signaling a threat ready to erupt. Alexis steels herself, scanning the horizon. A crooked lamppost, half-melted from an explosion’s heat, flickers with dying sparks. The remains of a crashed Batarian shuttle smolder in the distance.

She hears a child’s voice cry out. That same child she saved before? Alexis lurches toward the sound, knees shaking. She finds only emptiness… the child’s voice fading into echoes.

A flicker of light in her peripheral vision startles her. She pivots, and the memory shatters into white.

~~

Awareness returns in a swirl of crisp medical smells and soft beeping. Her body feels heavier, like lead fused beneath her skin. A dull, throbbing ache pulses along her limbs, interspersed with tiny pinpricks of electricity. Her eyes flutter open to a bright operating lamp, and she spots fleeting silhouettes in the periphery—surgeons, perhaps, or Cerberus medics.

“Neural activity is stabilizing,” someone says. “We can increase sedation again. She’s not ready to be fully conscious.”

A cooler voice, maybe another surgeon, answers: “Do it gently. We can’t risk a system shock—these implants are too sensitive.”

Alexis wants to speak, to demand answers. Her throat feels swollen shut. A faint hiss of compressed gas envelopes her senses, and she sinks beneath an ocean of warm oblivion.

~~

Then she’s on Elysium again, but now under an alien sky. The horizon flickers, jagged and broken, an unnerving collage of flickering shapes. It’s not quite how she remembers the Blitz. Buildings blur in and out of existence, as if her memories are glitching. She presses a hand to her head, trying to quell the pounding ache behind her eyes.

She hears Mari’s voice—distant, yet distinct: “Lexi, get down!”

Instinct kicks in. She drops to her knees, and something whistles overhead—a rocket, maybe?—before colliding with a nearby structure. The impact roars, a ripple of heat and dust slamming into her. When she looks up, smoke coils through the air, swallowing Mari’s figure in drifting black tendrils.

“Mum!” Alexis calls. She sprints forward, boots crunching over debris, arms pumping, ignoring the gnawing sting in her side. She has to find Mari. If she can just reach her, if she can just—

Suddenly, the dream fractures. A stabbing pain lances through her skull like a white-hot needle.

~~

She’s back on an operating table, eyes wide behind closed lids, seizing with a rush of foreign electricity. Pain radiates in waves; she can hear a strident alarm going off, beeping faster and faster.

“Vitals are spiking!” someone yells. “We’re losing her sedation threshold—increase it now!”

A surge of cold sweeps into her veins, numbing the agony inch by inch. The pain dulls, and her heart thuds dully, each beat oddly distant.

She slips under again.

~~

Now Elysium is bathed in twilight, the fires muted to curling embers. The colony square, once a blazing inferno, lies eerily still. Bodies of fallen Batarians and colonists alike mingle in twisted ruin. Alexis drags herself forward, limbs trembling with fatigue. Her shotgun is gone—lost somewhere in the mad scramble. Her rifle weighs heavy across her back, but she can’t bring herself to unsling it. She’s alone.

A figure stirs among the rubble. Wearing the battered purple visor of a Quarian helmet. Mari.

“Mum!” Alexis’s voice cracks. She rushes over, stumbling on broken stones. Mari’s breathing is ragged, her armor cracked and scorched. But she’s alive.

“Keelah…” Mari whispers, the word muffled by her helmet’s internal system. “Lexi, you’re all right?”

Alexis kneels by her, choking on relief. “Yes. I… I think so.” She tries to pull Mari up, hooking an arm around her shoulders. Mari leans heavily against her. “We have to get you out of here.”

She braces herself to carry her mother’s weight, ignoring the searing in her own ribs. “Come on, Mum,” she murmurs. “We’ve still got work to do.”

With a final groan, Mari lurches upright, and the two of them limp away from the battered square. The fires recede behind them, replaced by a swirling darkness that creeps in from all sides. Alexis fights to stay awake, to hold onto Mari’s arm. She can’t lose her. She can’t lose any more.

But the darkness swallows her whole.

~~

Drifting once more into near-consciousness, Alexis floats amid the pale glow of some medical suite. The beeping of monitors seems mercifully slower now. Her body is cocooned in faint tingles—cybernetics adjusting, perhaps, tissues knitting themselves together. She senses motion around her: silhouettes leaning in, adjusting something at the base of her skull or along her forearm. She can’t summon the energy to open her eyes. She catches fragments of conversation:

“The G— … for muscle restoration…”
“… neural framework still unstable…”
“… memory flashes… sedation needed to prevent trauma spikes…”

Everything fades to a soothing grey hush. She sinks deeper into the void, a trembling exhale escaping her lips.

Somewhere in the swirling haze of half-formed dreams, she hears Mari’s voice again—steady, warm, and unwavering: “Keelah, Lexi… hold on.”

And Alexis does. She clutches those words like a lifeline, even as the dream-battle of Elysium recedes into smoke and her battered body remains in uncertain hands. Because wherever she is—whatever they are doing—she knows she must endure. She owes it to her mother, to the colony that burned, and to everyone counting on her return as she fades into more memories and dreams.

~~~

The soft hum of the ship's life support systems thrums through the narrow walls, a steady vibration that Alexis feels deep in her chest. The faint rhythm of air recyclers and the distant whir of power conduits intertwine, creating a mechanical lullaby that fills the cramped sleeping chamber. Dim lights flicker overhead, casting fragile, wavering shadows that stretch and shrink with each flicker, painting the room in soft, ghostly hues. The air is sterile but carries the faint, familiar scent of metal, solder, and the faint musk of recycled oxygen—the ever-present scent of survival.

It is a small space, barely enough for two people, yet it holds the quiet weight of belonging and isolation. The walls seem to press in, not suffocating but close, wrapping around Alexis like the embrace of the ship itself. She presses deeper into the thin mattress, feeling the muted vibrations of the hull beneath her—the distant heartbeats of the vessel pulsing in rhythm with her own. Yet even surrounded by these familiar sensations, Alexis feels a quiet hollowness. The hum should be comforting, but tonight it only echoes the unsettled thoughts coiling in her mind.

Alexis pulls her knees closer to her chest, fingers absently tracing the intricate seams of the blanket wrapped around her. The fabric is well-worn, its edges frayed and layered with carefully stitched patches—each one a story, a memory. This blanket had been passed down through generations, each parent adding to it before giving it to their child. It was once Mari's, draped over her shoulders during long, cold shifts on distant freighters, and long before that, it had belonged to Mari's own mother. The patches are a tapestry of survival and love, scraps of old suits and faded fabric interwoven with care. Mari had wrapped Alexis in it as a babe, and it became hers ever since—a piece of Quarian history now draped over her small frame. The blanket smells faintly of old fabric and something else—a lingering warmth that feels like home, like her mother, like the unbroken line of family beyond blood.

She clings to it tightly now, as if its weight could anchor her to the present, to her family. The blanket, full-sized and expansive, wraps around her like a shield, its layers of patched fabric heavy with history. Each carefully stitched section tells a story—fragments of old suits, scraps from generations past—added with love and care by countless hands. It envelops her completely, yet despite its warmth and size, sleep evades her. Her small frame shifts restlessly on the cot, her breath fogging the inside of her Quarian-style helmet in soft, rhythmic clouds. Alexis burrows deeper into its folds, seeking the comfort of generations that had once been cradled in its embrace, trying to convince herself that its weight alone could protect her from the quiet storm of doubts within.

She stares at the flickering lights, wondering if they blink because something is broken or because that's just how it is. Like her. A piece that doesn't quite fit—not broken, but not whole either. Her human skin feels too soft, too vulnerable, unlike the Quarian suits designed for resilience. Her hands, lacking the bioluminescent freckles that shimmer faintly on Quarian skin, seem dull and alien in comparison. Her eyes cannot perceive the rich ultraviolet hues that Mari had once described so vividly. She's mastered the ship's routines, the customs, the language—but still, it feels like wearing a suit two sizes too big. Like she's pretending to belong in a story written for someone else.

She remembers the glances of other Quarian children—not cruel, but quietly distant. They moved with an ease she struggled to mimic, their suits an extension of themselves, while hers always felt like armour, clumsy and unnatural. The soft glimmer of their freckles in the dim light was something her body could never replicate. She felt incomplete, human in ways that made her feel like a shadow among them. No matter how fluently she spoke Khelish, how naturally she followed the customs taught by Mari, a quiet fear gnawed at her—that she was a stranger to her own family.

Her suit never sealed as snugly. Her breath fogged the visor too easily, a thin mist clinging to the glass as if to remind her she was different. Her movements felt slow, clumsy in the layered suits, lacking the practiced grace the other children seemed born with. Even when no one spoke, Alexis felt the weight of their silent questions pressing in: Why is she here? Why does she look like that? The questions never left their lips, but she heard them in every pause, every averted gaze—each unspoken doubt carving deeper into her sense of self.

Mari’Saalas sits nearby, perched on a crate repurposed as a seat, her figure steady amid the dim flicker of lights. Her posture is relaxed, yet her keen eyes observe Alexis with quiet understanding, reading the unspoken fears etched into every tense line of her daughter’s small frame. Without a word, Mari begins to hum—a low, haunting melody that seems to emerge from the very bones of the ship itself. The lullaby is ancient, passed down through countless generations of the Migrant Fleet, a song of endurance and unity. It weaves seamlessly into the steady thrum of the vessel, each note resonating through the walls like a second heartbeat.

The melody isn’t just sound—it’s a vibration, a pulse that seeps through their suits and into their very skin. Alexis feels it, soft and rhythmic, reverberating through her chest in perfect harmony with the hum of the ship. Mari's voice subtly shifts, weaving in soft Quarian vocalisations—fragile and intimate sounds that seem to glow in the air, as if carrying the echoes of countless ancestors. The song wraps around Alexis, not just in sound but in sensation, a cocoon of warmth and belonging that quiets the turmoil inside her.

Alexis shifts, listening, but her mind is tangled in unease. Her breath hitches, and a faint, involuntary trill escapes her throat—a soft, Quarian vocalisation of confusion and distress. She presses her cheek against her knees, her voice barely above a whisper as she speaks in Khelish, the words raw and hesitant. " Maka sa... am I truly Quarian? " Her voice trembles, the smallest warble threading through her words, unnoticed even by herself.

Mari's humming slows, the notes lingering in the air like a soft hand resting on Alexis's shoulder. The melody deepens, each note vibrating through the walls and settling into Alexis's chest like a steady, grounding heartbeat. Mari turns her gaze fully to her daughter, the dim light catching the curve of her visor, casting a soft, protective glow. When Mari speaks, her voice is steady, warm, and carries the weight of countless generations. "Family is beyond blood, child. It is who we protect, who we stand beside. You are mine, and that makes you Quarian."

but to Alexis, they strike like stones against a fragile window, each syllable cracking the walls she's built inside herself. Her grip on the blanket tightens, fingers curling into the worn fabric until her knuckles ache, vanishing into the patchwork of stories stitched by generations.

"But I am not like you," she whispers, the confession raw and splintering in her throat. "Not inside. My skin doesn’t glow, and I don’t see the stars like you do. I am... wrong."

The last word splinters apart, unravelling into a soft, warbling whimper—an involuntary Quarian vocalisation, thin and aching. It slips past her lips, trembling in the still air before fading. It feels more honest than words, an exposed fragment of herself, laid bare and vulnerable.

Her voice rises again, a low, wavering trill—a fragile, instinctive sound tangled with fear and frustration. It quivers, cracked and delicate, on the verge of shattering. Alexis doesn’t notice it, too lost in the storm inside her. The weight of being different—being wrong—presses down, suffocating and inescapable. The ache in her chest spreads like fire, and for a fleeting moment, it feels as if no suit could ever shield her from it. The room closes in, smaller and tighter, as though even the ship itself holds its breath, uncertain of her place within its walls.

Mari rises slowly, the soft hiss of her suit breaking the stillness. She crosses the narrow room and kneels beside Alexis, placing a gloved hand gently over her daughter’s small, trembling fists.

" No, Maka sa. " Mari’s voice is steady, but there’s an iron edge to it, a quiet strength beneath the warmth. " You are not wrong. You are strong. You learn, you adapt—that is what it means to be Quarian. We are all builders of our own paths. "

Her hand tightens slightly, grounding Alexis, steadying her as the ship's hum deepens around them. The lullaby begins again, softer this time, flowing into the intimate Quarian vocalisations that feel older than words. The notes vibrate faintly through the air, resonating through their suits like a shared heartbeat.

Alexis feels it—not just in her ears, but in her bones, in the quiet space between her breaths. The sound wraps around her in steady pulses. Without realizing it, Alexis responds with a fragile note—a soft, unsteady warble that rises and fades in the air.

Mari hears it. She leans in, her humming subtly shifting to match Alexis’s tentative sound. Their vibrations align—a silent, unspoken conversation. In that shared hum, there is no need for proof, no need for words. Only the quiet, unwavering truth of family.

The weight on Alexis’s chest begins to lift. The ache dulls. She presses deeper into the folds of the blanket—the legacy of generations—and into Mari's presence.

Her eyelids grow heavy, lulled by the shared hum between them and the rhythmic pulse of the ship. The fear of being ‘other’ drifts away, replaced by the steady comfort of Mari’s words and the living lullaby that surrounds her.

Before sleep takes her, Mari speaks once more, her voice a quiet promise that threads through the fading melody.

" Keelah se'lai, my little one. You will always have a place with me. "

And in that promise, Alexis finally drifts to sleep, cocooned in the warmth of family beyond blood.

~~~

Light years away a muted glow bathed the cramped room in soft, bluish light. The curved metal walls of the vessel formed a cosy but confined space, their surfaces adorned with meticulously organised tools, scraps of cloth, and a few personal keepsakes—tokens of lives lived in constant motion. A small desk stood near one bulkhead, lit by a single overhead lamp that cast long shadows across the table. The soft hum of the Neema's engines provided a steady, grounding rhythm beneath it all, wrapping the room in a cocoon of quiet energy.

Seated at this desk, Mari'Saalas worked with careful precision. She threaded a slender needle through a dark piece of cloth—deep black with subtle red accents. The fabric shimmered faintly under the dim light, the surface alive with intricate embroidery. Each careful stitch in the Quarian script was a reflection of a tradition that spanned centuries, a custom that tied generations together. The cloth lay partially folded, revealing swirling motifs around a central emblem that blended the Spectre sigil with Quarian artistry. The work was delicate, but Mari's gloved hands moved with steady familiarity, weaving stories into the fabric. Each thread carried weight—an unspoken promise to preserve her daughter's memory.

A gentle tap on the door broke the stillness.

"Mari?" came Tali's voice, quiet but hesitant. "May I come in?"

Mari raised her head slightly, just enough to see the door through her helmet's visor. "Enter, Tali," she called softly, her voice carrying a heaviness that matched the still air.

The door hissed open, revealing Tali in her familiar purple-and-black suit. She stepped inside with careful grace, mindful of the cramped quarters. Her eyes immediately fell on the half-completed headscarf in Mari's hands. Tali hesitated, her throat tightening as she absorbed the sight. Her tone was soft, tinged with understanding.

"You're still working on her new headscarf," Tali said. It wasn't a question.

Mari inclined her head slowly. "Yes. Alexis and I spoke about these designs—how she wanted to mark becoming a Spectre. She was proud... but she struggled with it. I thought we had more time."

Tali moved closer, each step measured, the vibration of the deck beneath her feet a grounding reminder of the present. She understood the significance of what Mari was doing. Quarian headscarves were more than garments; they were evolving records of life, stitched with stories of joy, sorrow, and triumph. Every swirl and flourish told of pivotal life moments, personal choices, and unbreakable bonds.

"I remember Alexis saying how this would show the Migrant Fleet what she could achieve after they rejected her," Tali murmured. Her voice wavered, betraying the ache in her chest.

Mari placed the needle down carefully, her fingers lingering on the fabric. "She was never good at embroidery," she admitted with a soft, bitter chuckle. "Thread everywhere, knots in all the wrong places. She used to say I had the patience she lacked. We planned so many additions together. Little details to make it hers."

Tali's eyes traced the patterns. The base shape of the Spectre emblem was unmistakable, but Mari had softened its stark lines with flowing arcs, merging it with Quarian calligraphy. Interwoven were symbols that told of Alexis's journey—marks for Mindoir, Akuze, Elysium. And now, the Spectre's sigil, seamlessly integrated.

"We all thought she'd come back wearing it," Tali whispered.

Mari's breath shuddered. "I still can't accept that she's gone." Her gloved hand moved to the edge where the newest pattern began. "I keep expecting her to barge in here—complaining the air filters are clogged, asking for her suit repaired. We'd argue about her crooked stitches. And yet..."

Tali moved closer, placing a steady hand on Mari's shoulder. "You're not alone. The Normandy crew, me—we carry her with us. Every day."

Mari's eyes softened behind her visor. "I need to finish this. For her. So it reflects every step she took. Every choice. Even if she can't wear it now."

Silence settled between them, punctuated only by the hum of life support. Tali's gaze lingered on the designs—a woven narrative. Symbols for Alexis's battles, her triumphs, her family. The Spectre emblem stood proud yet softened by the curves of Quarian design.

"Have you decided where to place your crest?" Tali asked gently.

Mari's head dipped slightly. "Here." She tapped a space near the bottom. "To show that, despite everything—despite the Fleet's rejection—she was always my daughter. Always family."

Tali's throat tightened. "That's perfect. It will show them she was Quarian at heart."

Mari lifted the needle again, her hand steady despite the weight in her chest. "I only wish she could see it. Keelah... I'd give anything for that."

Tali's hand remained on Mari's shoulder, her silent presence more comforting than words. The scarf was more than cloth now—it was Alexis's story, stitched with love and pain.

Mari's eyes flicked to Tali's own headscarf, its rich embroidery a mirror of her own journey. Slowly, without words, Mari extended a needle and thread to Tali—a gesture few would understand. Tali's breath caught. Her hands trembled as she accepted the needle, fully understanding the depth of trust Mari placed in her. This was sacred—a gift given only to family, to bonded partners. Tali met Mari's gaze and whispered, "I would be honored."

Mari gave a slight nod. Together, they leaned over the fabric, their voices low as they spoke in Khelish. Every stitch was deliberate, every pattern chosen with care. In that small room, surrounded by the quiet hum of the Migrant Fleet, grief and love were sewn into every thread.

Outside, the stars moved past in their endless drift. Inside, Mari and Tali wove a story of loyalty, bravery, and an unbreakable bond—a legacy no fate could erase. Each thread became a promise that Alexis'Shepard would not be forgotten, her story forever interwoven with those she left behind.

~~

The metallic clang of sparring blades reverberated through the Neema’s converted cargo bay, a sharp contrast to the usual low hum of the ship's life support systems. Once a storage area for rations and spare parts, the space had been meticulously cleared nearly a year ago at Mari'Saalas's insistence—reimagined into a harsh but efficient training ground. Harsh overhead lights cast sharp shadows against the cold metal walls, highlighting the faded scorch marks left by weapons fire. The padded floor, patched together from salvaged hull panels, bore deep grooves and dents—silent testaments to months of grueling drills and unforgiving sparring sessions.

Training dummies—scarred, dented, and in some cases missing limbs—stood in stoic rows along one side of the bay. Their synthetic skins were torn from countless strikes, their metal frames bent by relentless blows. Discarded training weapons—blades dulled from overuse, blunted firearms for close-combat drills—were stacked with methodical disorder against the far wall. Weighted gear and combat harnesses hung from makeshift hooks, swaying gently with the ship's motion.

Despite its raw, improvised state, the space pulsed with purpose. The echoes of past battles seemed to linger in the air, merging with the steady rhythm of ongoing sparring. It was no polished Alliance facility with pristine equipment and climate control—this was a place forged for resilience, where muscle memory and instinct were carved into the body through repetition and pain.

It was in this crucible of steel and sweat that Tali'Zorah and Mari'Saalas had spent the better part of a year, honing instincts, sharpening reactions, and forging strength from vulnerability in between missions. Every clang of metal and echo of footfalls against the cold deck plates spoke of countless hours spent turning hesitation into precision, and fear into resilience. The air was thick with the scent of heated metal and the faint acrid bite of burned circuits from malfunctioning drones, a constant reminder of the stakes they trained for.

Mari stood tall, her posture that of a seasoned warrior—relaxed yet ready to strike. Her old Quarian marine armor bore the evidence of countless battles, its scuffed plates dulled by time but no less imposing. Deep scratches ran along the vambraces, marks of past combat, each one a silent story of survival. A training blade rested easily in her grip—the dulled weapon perfectly balanced, forged to replicate the weight and resistance of a real combat blade. Every movement she made with it was fluid, confident.

Across from her, Tali'Zorah stood with her own practice weapon clutched tightly in her hands. Her breath came steadily, filtered through the soft hum of her suit’s environmental systems, but Mari could see the tension in her shoulders—the slight tremor in her arms, the rigid stance of someone still unaccustomed to the weight of violence. Tali's slim frame was wound tight like a coiled spring, her grip on the blade too firm, every muscle in her body straining under the weight of expectation.

For nearly a year, they had trained together—day after day, hour after hour. What began as awkward, hesitant movements had slowly sharpened into deliberate, calculated strikes. Tali's footwork, once sluggish and uncertain, had become more precise, her strikes more confident. Yet Mari pushed her harder still, relentless in her instruction. She knew that combat was unforgiving, that the smallest hesitation could mean death. Every misstep corrected, every strike blocked, was a lesson etched into muscle and mind alike.

But it wasn’t just about strength or speed. Mari drilled discipline into Tali, forging her mind as much as her body. Every sparring session was more than physical training—it was preparation for the brutal, unpredictable chaos of real combat. Mari knew firsthand that wars weren’t won by brute strength alone; they were won by those who could adapt, endure, and strike with purpose.

And Tali endured, despite every stumble, every ache in her limbs, every frustrated growl muffled by her helmet. The fire in her never dimmed. Mari saw it—that fierce, quiet determination to become more than the engineer she'd once been. To become someone who could stand unflinching beside warriors and not falter.

Mari knew the cost of failure. She wouldn't let Tali pay it.

"Again."

Mari's command was sharp, unwavering. The tone brooked no argument—and after nearly a year of this, Tali knew better than to offer one. She lunged forward, her blade slicing toward Mari's side in a controlled, precise arc. But Mari moved with practiced ease, deflecting the blow effortlessly, sidestepping with fluid grace and letting Tali's momentum pull her off balance.

"You're still telegraphing your movements."

Tali spun on her heel, her grip tightening on the hilt of her practice blade. Frustration burned in her eyes, but it was overtaken by something deeper—a quiet, smoldering resolve. Her voice dropped to a low, steady tone. "I can't afford to fall behind. Not now. Not after everything."

Mari's stance remained steady, but a subtle tilt of her helmet acknowledged the weight behind Tali's words. Mari raised her hand, signaling her to continue. "Then prove it. Again."

Tali inhaled deeply, forcing the tension from her limbs. She surged forward, this time feinting left and smoothly pivoting to the right. Mari met her strike, the clash of blades ringing out, but Tali didn't stop—using the resistance to shift her stance, she drove her shoulder forward. Mari grunted as the impact forced her back a step.

A pause.

Mari's visor tilted ever so slightly in approval. "Better. But determination alone won't save you. Don't just fight harder—fight smarter."

Tali straightened, her breath ragged but steady, the fire in her chest unwavering. She wouldn’t falter. Not now. Not with so much left unfinished. Her grip on the blade tightened as her mind sharpened, not with frustration, but with cold focus. She felt every aching muscle, every bead of sweat gathering beneath her suit, and she welcomed it. Proof that she was pushing forward.

Mari's visor tilted in approval. "Better. But don't rely on brute force. You won't outmuscle a Batarian, and you certainly won't outmuscle a Krogan without your armour."

Tali's breath came heavier now, her chest rising and falling beneath the pressure of exertion. Yet her feet remained firmly planted, her stance solid. "Then tell me how."

Mari lowered her blade slightly, the edge glinting faintly under the harsh lighting. "You outthink them. Use their strength against them. Quarian marines aren't known for brute force. We're known for precision and adaptation."

She circled Tali slowly, each step deliberate, the dull edge of her blade tapping rhythmically against her palm—a slow, steady beat, like a war drum. "Every step, every movement, should have purpose. You can analyze complex systems—apply that here. Your enemy is just another problem to be solved."

Tali's fingers flexed over the hilt of her practice blade, her grip shifting as her body instinctively adjusted. Her mind began to race, not with panic, but with analysis. Every movement, every weight shift of Mari's armor, every faint shift of stance—patterns to observe, to predict.

Mari lunged without warning, a blur of motion. Tali reacted, barely managing to parry, the shock of impact reverberating up her arms and driving her backward. But she held her footing. Mari pressed forward, each strike faster, sharper, testing every weak point in Tali's defense. One, two—and then a sudden feint. Mari's blade slipped through the gap, tapping lightly against Tali's side.

"Dead."

Tali let out a frustrated growl, taking a step back. The familiar weight of failure coiled in her chest, but she crushed it down. Her voice was tight but level. "Keelah, I thought this was supposed to build confidence."

Mari chuckled softly, the sound low and steady. "Confidence doesn't come from winning. It comes from failing and standing back up. Every fight you survive is one more lesson learned."

Mari paused, her gaze lingering on Tali for a moment longer. "And every lesson brings you closer to surviving the next fight. Remember that.""

Mari paused, her gaze sharp and steady as she studied Tali carefully. Her voice, when it came, was steady but carried the weight of experience. "You're carrying it, aren't you? That weight. The feeling that you were the one holding them back. That if you'd been stronger, faster—maybe things would have been different. But combat isn't about who moves first. It's about who survives to the end. And I'm going to make sure that's you."

Tali's grip on her practice blade tightened, her breath shallow but steady. The fatigue in her limbs was still there, but it was buried beneath something stronger—an ember of purpose flaring into a steady flame. She lifted her chin slightly, shoulders squaring. "Then let's keep going."

Mari's grip on her blade flexed, the metal groaning faintly under the pressure. "Good. Now again—and this time, stop solving equations in your head. Start fighting."

And so they began again. The sharp clang of metal against metal reverberated through the cargo bay, each strike ringing louder than the last. The steady rhythm of their combat echoed like a drumbeat of determination. Two Quarians, bound by shared grief and an unspoken purpose, forging strength in the relentless fire of trial and error.

Minutes stretched into hours, and the rhythm of their sparring became more fluid. Tali's strikes grew sharper, more decisive. Her footwork, once hesitant and clumsy, evolved into deliberate steps, each movement calculated yet instinctive. Mari adjusted the drills, seamlessly transitioning from basic strikes to complex counters—teaching Tali to anticipate, to read her opponent—to react without hesitation.

Sweat collected beneath Tali's suit, trickling along the seams, making the air inside feel heavier. Her breath quickened, labored but steady. Pain lanced through her muscles with every strike, every block, but she pressed forward, driven by a will hardened with each passing moment. Her hands no longer trembled; her grip was steady, her strikes purposeful.

Mari observed, a quiet approval in her stance. "You're learning. But instinct will keep you alive when skill can't. Trust it."

Without hesitation, Tali surged forward, her blade slicing through the air in a swift, unexpected strike that forced Mari to deflect hard. But Tali didn't stop—her pivot was sudden, precise, sweeping low in a calculated move Mari hadn't taught her.

Mari stumbled back, her footing faltering for a heartbeat. Surprise flickered through her as she straightened, a slow nod following. "Good. You're adapting. And that's what will keep you alive.""

They paused briefly, standing several paces apart, the sound of their labored breaths mingling with the distant hum of the Neema's systems. Mari's eyes didn't leave Tali as she reached for two pistols from the weapons rack—one worn from use, its weight familiar in her grip. She tossed the second pistol to Tali with a calculated flick of her wrist. The weighted training weapon landed heavily in Tali's palm, jarring her tired muscles.

"Time to see how you handle a firearm."

Tali stared at the pistol, fingers flexing around the cold metal grip. Its unfamiliar weight felt alien in her hands. "I prefer my shotgun."

Mari smirked under her visor, a quiet, knowing gesture. "In combat, preferences get you killed. Adapt. Aim for the target."

With a subtle nod toward the far side of the room, Mari activated a console. The battered training drones whirred to life, lifting off the ground with a mechanical hiss. Their metal frames gleamed faintly in the dim light as they began weaving in erratic, unpredictable patterns, circling like vultures.

"Engage."

Tali hesitated only for a breath before squeezing the trigger. Her first shot missed wide, the round sparking off the far wall. One of the drones reacted instantly, spinning and launching a stun bolt that zipped through the air, grazing Tali's shoulder. She hissed in pain, instinctively ducking. Mari's pistol barked in sharp contrast—one precise shot, and the drone exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.

"Move, Tali! Don't stand still!"

Mari's voice cut through the haze of frustration. Tali gritted her teeth and shifted, her legs burning with effort. She steadied her aim and fired again—this time, the shot found its mark. The drone sparked violently before crumpling to the floor. Another stun bolt whizzed past her head, but Tali dropped into a roll, feeling the cold deck beneath her suit. She came up fast, breathing hard, and fired two precise shots that tore through the final drone's core.

The training bay fell silent, the scent of scorched metal hanging in the air. Mari holstered her pistol with practiced ease, the motion smooth and deliberate. "Not bad. But not good enough. Again."

The weight of the words hung in the air, heavier than the pistol in Tali's grasp. And so it continued. Blade to blade, shot to shot, day after relentless day, for nearly a year. Each brutal session in the cargo bay chipped away at hesitation and fear, molding Tali into a warrior—one who could stand shoulder to shoulder with the strongest of the Normandy's crew. Under Mari's relentless, unyielding guidance, Tali felt the cracks in her armor of doubt slowly sealing.

Mari wouldn't let her falter. Wouldn't let her fall behind.

Not again.

~~

The cold hum of machinery droned in the back of Alexis's mind, a distant vibration beneath her skin. Flashes of sterile white light pierced the suffocating darkness, brief and disjointed, like distant lightning behind closed eyes. Pain lanced along her nerves—sharp, electric—before it dulled into a hollow, aching numbness. The scent of disinfectant mixed with the metallic tang of blood hovered at the edge of her senses. Voices murmured in the distance—distant, muffled, fragmented. Words without meaning, sounds without shape. She wasn't awake, not fully, but something clawed at her consciousness, dragging her downward into the depths of memory.

And then, suddenly, she was there.

The hiss of static on her comm snapped Alexis back into the chaos, the harsh grip of war closing around her like a vice. The acrid scent of gunpowder and burning metal lingered in the air, filtered through the sealed systems of Alexis's helmet. Her suit's life support blocked the worst of the stench, but the weight of destruction seeped in all the same—a sensory ghost pressing against her mind. She scowled, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the report from the N7 infiltrator. The words seared themselves into her mind— Slave pens. All executed.

Her breath hitched, a faint tremor running through her before rage coiled in her chest, hot and suffocating. She hissed a sharp curse in Khelish, the guttural syllables cutting through the stale, blood-laden air like a knife.

Rage seethed beneath Alexis's armor, coiling in her chest like a serpent ready to strike. Her breaths were slow, measured, each inhale tasting of scorched earth and bitter smoke. Her knuckles whitened around the grip of her Lancer rifle, the metal creaking softly under the strain. She keyed into her comm, her voice slicing through the static with clipped, lethal precision.

"Alenko. Take the Marines and keep pushing after the main group of pirates. Drive them into the ground."

Static buzzed for a moment before Kaidan's composed tone answered, unwavering despite the chaos. "Copy that, Commander. What about you?"

Her grip tightened, the edges of her vision narrowing as fury sharpened her focus. "I'm taking the Raiders. We're clearing that building."

A beat of silence passed—heavy, loaded—then Kaidan's calm acknowledgment filtered through. "Understood. We'll regroup when you're done. Alenko out."

The comm went dead, the hollow void of silence pressing in as Alexis lowered her hand. The quiet was oppressive, as though the battlefield itself was holding its breath. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, glinted with cold fury beneath the glare of her visor.

Alexis turned sharply, her boots grinding against the dirt and broken stone beneath them. The Marine Raiders flanking her stood like shadows, their matte black and muted grey armor designed for stealth and brutal efficiency. Deep scratches marred the plating, scars of battles survived. Their faceless visors reflected the dull glow of distant fires, casting them as figures forged in war. Each soldier's weapon was held with a steady grip, the tension in the air palpable. They didn't need words. They understood what was coming.

Her voice was steel. "Stack up. We're breaching. Kill order."

The Raider team leader answered with a terse nod, a silent promise of execution. No hesitation. No mercy. The squad moved with mechanical precision, fluid and lethal, falling into perfect formation. Alexis led them, her steps deliberate and steady, exuding a calm that belied the fury coiled inside her.

They advanced toward the building—a squat, weather-beaten structure crouched like a beast in the dirt. Its walls bore the scorches and fractures of recent fighting, and its shattered windows stared out like dark, empty eyes. Once, it had been a home. Now, it was a tomb. The very air around it felt heavier, thick with the stench of scorched earth, cordite, and the faint, sickly copper tang of old blood.

One Raider moved with practised ease, the weight of countless breaching operations guiding his steady hands as he knelt to affix the charge to the reinforced door. The adhesive device latched onto the metal with a faint, ominous hum, the light on its panel blinking steadily—a silent promise of destruction. Alexis raised her fist, the signal crisp and deliberate, holding it steady as time seemed to stretch thin and brittle around them.

Three... two... one.

The door detonated with a deafening roar, shards of twisted metal and a choking cloud of smoke erupting outward in a violent gust. Heat licked at their armor as the blastwave settled. Before the dust could clear, a flashbang soared through the haze, bursting in a searing flash of white light and a concussive bang that rattled the very walls.

Alexis was already moving. She surged forward, Lancer rifle raised, her boots slamming against the ground with relentless purpose. The first Batarian, still blinking against the flash, barely had time to register her before a burst of tungsten rounds punched through his chest, sending him sprawling in a heap of shattered armor and flesh.

The confined space erupted into a cacophony of war. Gunfire cracked like a violent storm, deafening and relentless. The Raiders fanned out, their movements razor-sharp and fluid—a deadly dance perfected by endless drills. They cleared the front room with brutal precision, cutting down the dazed Batarians in sweeping arcs of fire. Shouts of alarm turned to wet, gurgling cries as bullets tore through flesh and bone.

Alexis moved through the carnage like a specter of death, her footfalls silent over the crunch of shattered debris and broken bodies. The air was thick with the heat of gunfire and the smoldering remains of battle, but Alexis felt none of it through the environmental seals of her suit. Her helmet's filtration system dulled the scent of scorched flesh and burning metal, yet the oppressive weight of death clung to the edges of her awareness. Shadows clung to every corner, each one a potential threat, every flicker of movement demanding the snap of her rifle to center mass. Her HUD flickered with squad vitals—calm, steady, methodical.

They moved deeper, each step driving them further into the heart of the enemy's den—a relentless tide of steel and fury.

As they cleared room after room, a flicker of movement snagged Alexis's attention—a shadow, barely perceptible, shifting behind the splintered remains of an overturned table. Her rifle snapped to target instinctively, muscles coiled like a spring. Slowly, shakily, a young Batarian emerged, no older than sixteen. He was clad in the same scarred, grimy armor as the other slavers, the blood-red insignia on his shoulder a stark symbol of his allegiance. The armor hung awkwardly on his thin, malnourished frame, far too large, amplifying the stark contrast between his youth and the role he had been forced to play. His four wide eyes glistened with fear, reflecting the cold glint of Alexis's visor. Dust clung to his sweat-slicked skin, and his hands rose high, fingers spread, visibly shaking as he tried to make himself appear as non-threatening as possible.

He stammered in broken Batarian, his voice ragged and cracking with desperation. Alexis's suit immediately processed and translated his words in a cold, mechanical monotone: "Please, I surrender—don't shoot!"

But Alexis had already made her decision.

Her finger tightened on the trigger. The sharp crack of her Lancer rifle shattered the suffocating silence. The tungsten round struck the boy squarely in the forehead with brutal precision. His head snapped back violently, and his body crumpled in a boneless heap on the bloodied floor, limbs splayed at unnatural angles. The slaver insignia on his shoulder darkened with the spreading pool of blood beneath him.

The gunshot's echo clung to the air, mingling with the distant staccato of gunfire and the dying wails of the battlefield. Smoke coiled through the ruined room, veiling the scene in a ghostly haze that her visor automatically compensated for, dimming the brightness and filtering out particulates. The sealed systems of her armor created an eerie sense of detachment—she could see the carnage but felt none of its physical sting. Her visor remained locked ahead, cold to the boy's still, lifeless form.

The weight of the moment pressed down like a physical force, oppressive and suffocating, but not one Raider spoke. Their weapons remained raised, their discipline unwavering. This was war—and war did not pause for regret.

Alexis's voice sliced through the haze, cold and unyielding. "Keep moving."

Without hesitation, the squad advanced, their boots thudding heavily on the blood-slick floor. They stepped over the boy's fresh corpse as though it were nothing more than another obstacle—just another casualty in the brutal war they fought. Alexis felt the slight vibration through the insulated layers of her sealed suit, a distant echo of the impact beneath her boots, but no sound or scent breached her armor.

The house groaned ominously around them, a structure too old and fractured to endure the relentless assault. Dust rained down from the cracked ceiling as Alexis signaled a halt with a clenched fist, her gauntlet making no sound in the dead air of her helmet. The Raiders froze in place, weapons raised, senses sharpened.

Ahead loomed a heavy door, slightly ajar, its hinges rusted and frame splintered. The infiltrator's report echoed in her mind.

Slave pens.

Her boot struck the door with bone-jarring force, the reinforced seal of her suit muting the sensation. The door snapped open with a groan, revealing the nightmare beyond.

The sight struck first—rows of crude cages, their iron bars warped and stained dark with old blood. Ragged clothing and soiled bedding lay scattered, silent remnants of the suffering that had taken place here. The air, thick with the reek of blood and rot, clawed at her environmental filters. Her helmet's systems immediately compensated, scrubbing the air of its toxins—but not its weight.

A flicker of movement caught her eye.

A Batarian—wild-eyed, cornered, and half-hidden behind the rusted remains of a cage—jerked upright, a rusted weapon trembling in his grasp. Alexis didn't pause. Her Lancer rifle barked once, twice—sharp flashes illuminating the shadows. The slaver's body spasmed, then crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

Her breathing slowed, steady and measured, the mechanical hiss of her rebreather punctuating the stillness. The rage, however, burned hotter than ever—a steady inferno coiled deep in her chest, contained but never extinguished.

The building fell eerily silent as the last shots echoed into nothingness, leaving only the muted shuffle of armored boots against cracked and bloodied flooring. The smoldering ruins groaned in protest, fractured beams sagging under the weight of their own collapse. The Raiders moved through the wreckage with mechanical precision, rifles sweeping methodically as they cleared the final rooms. The acrid stench of charred flesh and gunpowder hung heavy in the air—though muted behind Alexis's sealed helmet, it still clung to the edges of her awareness. No further resistance remained—only the suffocating stillness of death.

Alexis keyed into her comm, her voice as cold and sharp as steel. "Report."

The Raider team leader's voice crackled back through her earpiece, unwavering. "Building is secure. No survivors."

Alexis's jaw tightened beneath the cold press of her helmet. Her grip on her Lancer rifle flexed. "Start accounting for the bodies. I want exact numbers."

The Raiders began their grim task, stepping carefully over the debris and mangled bodies littering the floor. Alexis moved among them, her HUD flickering as the dead were tagged and catalogued. Each lifeless form told the same story—fear, violence, and merciless execution. Yet it was the rusted cages that drew her attention, their iron bars twisted and blackened, stained by something far darker than blood.

One Raider knelt in a dark corner, his helmet turning slightly. His voice, though calm, carried a weight that pulled at the air. "Commander... over here."

Alexis approached, her armored boots grinding softly on stone slick with blood and ash. The Raider gestured to a cluster of cages, their bars bent and scorched. Inside, bodies—small, fragile—were slumped against the cold metal, their limbs tangled in ragged clothing. Some still clung to each other, locked in a final, desperate embrace against the inevitable.

Her HUD flickered as the dead were counted and identified.

"Total count: forty-seven colonists. Nineteen of them are children."

The words cut through her like a blade, colder than the armor encasing her. Alexis stared at the still forms—faces pale and frozen in terror, lives stolen before they ever had a chance to live.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, the servos in her gloves whining softly. The rage that filled her wasn't the burning, reckless fury of combat but something far colder, forged sharp by grief and a seething hate.

She keyed her comm again, her voice a low growl. "Recover the bodies. We're not leaving them here. Not like this."

The Raiders hesitated only a moment before setting to work. Their brutal efficiency softened as they pried open the rusted cages, lifting the broken bodies with a reverence that contrasted the violence they'd just delivered. Blankets were pulled from supply packs, gently wrapping the remains—adults and children alike—in layers of fabric, shielding them from the blood-soaked ground.

Alexis moved among them, assisting silently where she could. Each small bundle weighed heavier than any weapon she'd carried, pressing not on her back but in the hollow of her chest. She watched as her soldiers carried the bodies, one by one, past scorched walls and shattered beams. No words were spoken. None were needed.

Once the last of the colonists had been laid out beyond the ruined walls, Alexis's gaze lingered on the now-empty cages, their twisted metal still bearing the marks of unspeakable suffering. Her jaw clenched, her breath steady and slow within the confines of her sealed helmet.

She keyed her comm again, her voice like ice. "Set the charges. Burn it all. Let nothing remain."

The Raiders moved with grim purpose, planting thermite charges along every weakened beam and shattered wall. Each device was placed with precise intent—a silent promise that this place would vanish without a trace. Sparks flickered briefly before settling into ominous stillness, waiting for release.

Alexis stood sentinel over the shrouded bodies, unmoving. The cold wind tugged at the edges of the blankets, the fabric rustling softly—a fragile sound in the suffocating quiet. The weight of it pressed on her shoulders, heavier than any armor. Her breath was a steady rhythm, the mechanical hiss of her rebreather the only sound in her sealed world.

She scanned the line of covered forms one last time, her eyes lingering on the smallest shapes. Each one burned into her memory, carved deep into her soul.

Never again.

With a sharp nod, Alexis gave the order. The charges ignited with a low, hissing roar, blue flames leaping to life and racing hungrily along the walls. The fire consumed wood and steel alike, clawing higher and higher. Even through the insulation of her helmet, Alexis could feel the heat pressing in, as if the fire itself bore witness to their fury.

The structure groaned and buckled, collapsing inward with a violent crescendo. Walls caved, beams splintered, and the inferno devoured every last piece of the house—this wretched prison—until nothing remained. No remnants. No grave. No memorial. Only silence and the rising smoke, coiling into the sky as a final, wordless eulogy.

Alexis's grip tightened on her rifle. The distant, growing hum of engines pulled her attention skyward. From beyond the veil of smoke, the distinct silhouette of Kodiak drop transports pierced through the haze, their thrusters glowing against the ashen sky. The sleek vessels descended with mechanical grace, the downward draft scattering dust and embers as they neared the ground.

The side doors of the transports slid open with a low hiss, revealing squads of fresh-faced Marines, their armor gleaming beneath the soot-filled sky. They moved with practiced urgency, forming lines to carefully load the shrouded bodies of the colonists. Alexis watched in silence as the Marines worked in grim coordination, each body handled with a reverence that belied the battlefield's brutality. The soft hum of Kodiak engines was the only sound, a low, constant presence against the backdrop of distant gunfire.

Alexis moved forward, assisting in lifting one of the smaller bundles. Even through the reinforced servos of her armor, the weight felt unbearable. She placed the child’s covered form onto the transport with the same care she had shown her own soldiers. There was no conversation, no orders—only action, driven by shared understanding.

Once the last body was secured, a Marine officer approached, saluting sharply. "Commander Shepard, we're ready to extract. We'll take them back to the secure zone for identification and proper rites."

Alexis returned the salute with a curt nod. "See that it's done. They deserve that much."

She turned to the Raiders, motioning toward the transports. "Mount up. We're done here."

The Raiders filed into the waiting Kodiaks, the weight of their silence heavier than any armor. Alexis was the last to board, her eyes lingering on the smoldering ruins. The flames still clawed at the sky, sending dark plumes twisting upward, a final mark of vengeance.

The Kodiak's side doors sealed with a metallic hiss, muffling the roar of the engines as they lifted off. The battlefield shrank beneath them, the burning structure becoming little more than a flicker in the vast destruction.

But Alexis felt none of it.

The steady hum of the engines began to warp and distort, fading into a mechanical whine that buzzed at the edges of her consciousness. The cool air of the transport seemed to evaporate, replaced by a sterile chill that crept along her skin. The world blurred, the sharpness of war dissolving into the white void of surgical lights and the oppressive drone of machines.

The rhythmic pulse of monitors echoed in her mind—a cold, mechanical sound that grew louder, more consuming.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

The battlefield was gone.

The distant, sterile beeping of medical monitors merged with the low, mechanical hum of machines surrounding her, filling the void with an unsettling rhythm. The faint hiss of ventilators exhaled in steady intervals, each breath mechanical and cold. Yet beneath it all, phantom echoes of gunfire crackled at the edge of her consciousness—distant explosions rumbling like distant storms, bleeding into the sterile quiet.

The weight of her body felt unreal, as though she were suspended between two worlds—the cold sterility of medical confinement and the distant, suffocating heat of a battlefield. A sharp, pulsing pain flickered at the edge of her awareness, as if fire still licked at her skin beneath layers of metal and synthetic mesh.

Somewhere beyond the noise, a voice broke through—calm, authoritative, but distant.

"Wake up, Commander."

It was not a plea, but a command—cutting through the haze like a blade. Yet her limbs refused to respond, heavy and sluggish, trapped in the liminal space between death and life.

 

Chapter 20: XX

Summary:

The Lazarus Project awakens

Notes:

HERE WE GO!

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XX

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The weight of her body felt unreal, as though she were suspended between two worlds—the cold sterility of medical confinement and the distant, suffocating heat of a battlefield. A sharp, pulsing pain flickered at the edge of her awareness, as if fire still licked at her skin beneath layers of metal and synthetic mesh. The smell of sterilized air mixed faintly with something more ominous—burning plastic and scorched metal.

Somewhere beyond the noise, a voice broke through—calm, authoritative, but distant.

"Wake up, Commander."

It was not a plea, but a command—cutting through the haze like a blade. Yet her limbs refused to respond, heavy and sluggish, trapped in the liminal space between death and life.

Another sound followed—a low, distant rumble that grew into a violent tremor. The table beneath her jolted, rattling as a muted explosion roared through the facility. Alexis forced her eyes open, a sluggish breath rattling in her chest. The sterile lights above flickered, casting erratic shadows across the walls.

"Shepard, do you hear me? Get out of that bed now. This facility is under attack," the woman’s voice barked over the intercom, sharper now, edged with urgency.

A gulping gasp tore from Alexis’s throat as adrenaline forced air into her lungs. Her hand instinctively shot up to her face, clawing for a helmet that wasn't there. Panic flared, raw and instinctive—she was exposed, vulnerable. No helmet, no suit—just thin, standard-issue military fatigues clinging to her sweat-slicked skin.

"Shepard. Your scars aren’t healed, but I need you to move. Now. This facility is under attack."

Another explosion rocked the walls, this one closer. Heat licked at the air as distant fires roared to life. The ceiling trembled, and through a narrow window high above, Alexis glimpsed streaks of tracer fire crisscrossing the sky, mingled with the blinding flare of explosions.

"There’s a pistol in the locker across the room. Move!"

The voice cut through her disorientation, anchoring her. Weapon. She needed a weapon.

Gritting her teeth against the pain clawing through her limbs, Alexis swung her legs off the table. Her bare feet met the cold metal floor with a jolt, sending fresh pain racing up her legs. The hum of static electricity buzzed at the edge of her hearing, like phantom voices whispering in the dark.

Stumbling forward, she braced herself against the wall, her vision swimming for a moment before locking onto the locker on the far side of the room. Each step felt heavier than the last, muscles unresponsive, her body sluggish and foreign.

Another explosion cracked through the walls, closer this time—the shriek of metal tearing apart. A distant scream echoed down the corridor beyond the room, chilling and brief.

As Alexis reached for the pistol and the armor inside the locker, the familiar Alliance N7 design caught her eye—standard issue, sleek and practical. Yet, even in her disoriented state, she could immediately tell it wasn’t hers. The small, personal modifications she had meticulously made were absent. There were no integrated components from her Quarian exo-suit, no subtle adjustments tailored to her needs. It was pristine, untouched by her hands.

Her breath caught in her throat as her right arm moved into view. Reflexively, she expected to see the dark ink of her intricate tattoos—the carefully woven patterns that told the story of her life, a blend of Quarian tradition and personal milestones etched into her skin. Symbols of survival, of belonging, of battles fought and bonds forged. Now, they were gone.

In their place, sleek metal gleamed under the flickering emergency lights, intricate and impossibly smooth. This wasn't the rugged, utilitarian design of standard Alliance cybernetics—this was something far more advanced. Lines of segmented plating interlocked seamlessly, almost organic in their construction, delicate yet radiating an inescapable strength. Her fingers flexed without conscious thought, moving with an eerie, fluid precision. It felt wrong. Alien.

Her stomach churned, dread sinking like lead into her chest. The design—the smooth, curved plating, the almost elegant flow of the synthetic musculature—mirrored something she knew all too well. The Geth. Their cold, mechanical perfection. She recognized it instantly, an unsettling familiarity dredged from battle. The thought gnawed at the edges of her mind, insistent and invasive.

No.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. This was no prosthetic, no brace hastily applied to save her life. This was her. Flesh replaced by metal. Identity rewritten without her consent.

The realization clawed deeper, wrapping icy tendrils around her thoughts. She wasn’t entirely human anymore. She wasn’t entirely Quarian. Whatever she had become, it was something in between—something forged by hands she didn’t know.

Her breath grew shallow, ragged. The weight of her limbs felt suffocating, oppressive. Every movement was heavier, denser. She was standing, moving, breathing—when she should have been dead. She remembered it now: the sound of metal screaming as it tore through the Normandy, the brutal impact, the suffocating cold of space swallowing her whole.

How was she even seeing?

Her hands trembled—metal fingers twitching—as panic threatened to consume her. Then, faintly, she noticed it. A low hum, not from the distant battle, but closer—intimately close. Beneath her skin. Inside her mind.

“Creator-Shepard-Commander.”

The voice was synthetic, echoing from everywhere and nowhere. It slithered through her mind like static, cold and mechanical yet disturbingly familiar. The Geth term— Creator —struck her like a physical blow, twisting her stomach into knots.

Her breath hitched violently.

No. Not now.

She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to breathe—to steady the tremble in her limbs. Alexis clenched her jaw, grounding herself as she tightened her grip on the cold metal of the pistol.

"Keelah…" The word fell from her lips in a whisper, raw and desperate. She muttered in Khelish, barely audible over the distant gunfire. "Focus on the mission. Figure it out later. Tali… Tali will know what to do."

But she couldn't finish the thought. She couldn't let herself believe that whatever had annihilated the Normandy had taken Tali too.

Teeth grinding, Alexis shoved the fear aside, locking it away as she turned toward the door.

Survive first. Questions later.

Alexis's eyes flicked back to the armor in the locker. She moved without hesitation, years of training overriding the sluggish protests of her body. Piece by piece, she donned the standard-issue N7 armor, the movements automatic despite the unfamiliar weight of her cybernetic limbs. Her hands moved with precise efficiency, locking each segment into place—chestplate, greaves, gauntlets—until the armor encased her in its cold, protective embrace.

The plating felt heavier than it should, subtly different without the Quarian modifications she had grown used to. The suit lacked the seamless integration she had once painstakingly crafted, the quiet hum of Quarian systems absent beneath the hardened shell. It fit, but not perfectly—like wearing someone else's skin.

Her hands—metal fingers—paused momentarily over the helmet. For a breath, Alexis stared at its reflective visor, seeing her distorted reflection staring back. The unfamiliar armor, the glint of polished cybernetics—all pieces of someone she barely recognized.

No time for this.

She slammed the helmet on, sealing it with a hiss of pressurized air. The HUD flickered to life, calibrating to her neural interface in an instant. Data streamed across the display—squad status: offline, comms: scrambled, environmental status: compromised.

Her breathing steadied, the helmet's filters offering the familiar hiss that grounded her. Fully armored now, the weight settled on her shoulders like an old companion.

She rolled her shoulders, adjusting to the suit's balance, and tightened her grip on the pistol.

"Time to move."

Without another thought, Alexis advanced toward the sparking doorway.

Alexis checked the M-3 Predator pistol in her grip, the familiar weight grounding her in this surreal nightmare. Her eyes flicked over the weapon, assessing its condition with methodical precision. She frowned.

“This pistol doesn’t have a thermal clip,” she muttered, half-hoping whoever was speaking through the intercom could hear her.

The sharp, authoritative female voice crackled through the speakers overhead, layered with static but unwavering.

"You're in a med bay—not exactly stocked for combat. We'll get you a thermal clip. But right now, someone is overriding security and they're trying to kill you."

Her tone was clipped and professional, but there was a tense undercurrent of urgency that couldn't be masked.

Alexis gritted her teeth, planting her feet firmly before forcing the sparking door open with a grunt of effort. The metal screeched in protest, warped and blackened by fire, the scent of scorched circuitry mingling faintly in the stale air. Heat radiated from the frame, the aftermath of some recent explosion still clinging to the metal. She slipped through the narrow gap, careful not to brush against the jagged edges.

Her boots landed in a sticky, dark puddle. She froze, eyes narrowing. A facility staff member lay crumpled on the floor, their limbs sprawled at unnatural angles. Blood pooled beneath them, spreading like ink across the cold, sterile tiles. The fatigues they wore matched her own—plain, utilitarian, yet marked with an unfamiliar insignia that repeated on the walls and doors. Whoever they had been, they hadn't stood a chance.

Her gaze locked onto the dull glint of spent thermal clips scattered around the body, half-submerged in the dark pool. Instinct took over. Alexis crouched, her movements smooth and practiced despite the sluggish protest of her body. The ache in her muscles was distant, compartmentalized. She plucked three clips from the blood-slick floor, her fingers steady even as crimson smeared across the metal.

With swift precision, she slid one of the clips into the pistol, feeling the mechanism click into place. Her HUD flickered, confirming the restored thermal capacity. The familiar, fluid motion calmed her—a ritual rooted in years of discipline. The pistol's weight was steady in her grip, its deadly comfort grounding her in the chaos.

For a fleeting moment, her eyes traced the smooth, metallic curve of her right arm as it moved. The armor masked the unnatural gleam beneath, hiding the cybernetic structure. She flexed her fingers, the motion too smooth, too perfect. Swallowing the rising unease, Alexis tore her gaze away.

Focus.

Weapon ready, Alexis advanced into the dimly lit corridor, the harsh glow of flickering emergency lights casting elongated, writhing shadows along walls scorched and marred by bullet holes. The metallic scent of blood and scorched flesh lingered faintly, barely softened by the filters in her helmet. The facility groaned under its own ruin, the distant echoes of gunfire and explosions reverberating like ghostly memories. The walls bore smears of blood, handprints trailing desperately toward exits that had offered no salvation.

Every step forward sent echoes down the empty hall, the sharp crunch of broken glass and metal fragments beneath her boots punctuating the stillness. The air hung heavy with smoke and the faint ozone bite of overloaded electronics, forming a suffocating shroud of ruin and death.

Vaulting over a toppled barrier, Alexis landed in the next room and froze.

The carnage was worse here. Scientists and security personnel lay sprawled in grotesque heaps, their bodies contorted and broken, faces twisted in their final moments of terror. Blood pooled in dark, sticky patches across the floor, some of it smeared in handprints and drag marks—desperate attempts to crawl away. Singed lab coats clung to burnt flesh, and shattered visors exposed empty, lifeless eyes.

Her stomach turned, but she forced it down. The coppery tang of blood, faint through her helmet’s filters, still clawed at her senses. Whoever had attacked the facility hadn’t been merciful—this had been a purge, methodical and absolute.

Her grip on the pistol tightened, knuckles pale against the cold, unforgiving metal. Every instinct screamed that she was still being hunted—the air itself seemed charged, thick with the weight of unseen eyes tracking her every move.

And she was right.

A sudden, mechanical whir of servos cut through the tense silence, sharp and unmistakable. Her head snapped to the right—movement in the stairwell. A glint of cold metal, the sleek outline of hostile machinery emerging from the shadows.

Her HUD flared a vivid red, locking onto the target before the voice on the intercom could even utter a warning. Alexis was already moving, muscle memory guiding her into action.

“Look out!”

But the warning was wasted breath. Before the first syllable fully formed, Alexis raised her pistol in a seamless, practiced motion. The first shot exploded from the barrel with a sharp crack, slamming into the mech’s head. The impact snapped its sensor array back, sparks spraying in the dark stairwell as it staggered, limbs jerking awkwardly. Alexis didn’t hesitate. Three more shots followed in rapid succession, each round tearing into the mech’s torso. Plating shattered under the relentless impacts until the machine crumpled, collapsing into a sparking heap of shattered metal and exposed circuitry.

The voice on the intercom paused—just for a beat—before responding. A faint note of approval slipped into the otherwise clipped and professional tone.

“Good. Keep moving. We need to get you to the shuttles.”

Alexis gave a terse nod, even though the woman couldn’t see it. With a swift, deliberate motion, she ejected the thermal clip with a sharp metallic snap. But instead of letting it fall, her hand shot out reflexively, snatching the still-hot clip from the air. She clipped it securely to her belt in one fluid motion—not spent, but still useful. Then, with mechanical precision, she slid a fresh clip into the pistol, feeling the familiar click of it locking into place. Her HUD recalibrated instantly, the familiar glow of weapon readiness restoring a measure of control.

The reinforced soles of her boots thudded heavily on the metal stairs as she ascended, the steady weight of her armor grounding her against the chaos surrounding her. The map flickering in the corner of her HUD pulsed insistently, marking her next objective: the observation deck overlooking the med bay she had barely escaped.

Another explosion roared somewhere deep within the facility, rattling the walls and sending a tremor through the ground beneath her. The lights flickered, casting erratic shadows across the corridor. Alexis barely flinched. The chaos was background noise now.

Survive first. Questions later.

And she pressed on, each step carrying her closer to the fight.

Alexis stepped through the door as it slid open to the observation room, and the chaos hit her like a physical force. The acrid stench of burning metal and scorched electronics clawed at her senses, slipping past her helmet's filters in thin, bitter traces. Overhead, fire licked at the ceiling, casting flickering shadows that danced across walls pockmarked with bullet holes and blackened by smoke. Thick, choking plumes of smoke coiled in the air, blurring the sharp edges of broken glass and twisted metal that littered the floor.

The once-sterile lab was unrecognizable—a battlefield frozen in the aftermath of violence. Shattered observation windows hung in jagged frames, their shards glinting like teeth in the dim light. Machinery lay toppled and torn apart, wires sparking feebly from gaping wounds in their casings. Pools of oil and blood mingled on the ground, reflecting the distant, stuttering glow of warning lights. Every surface bore the scars of the onslaught—bullet impacts, scorch marks, and gouges carved deep into the walls and floor.

The oppressive heat from the fires seemed to crawl along her skin, seeping through the armor plates and reminding her of the fragile boundary between life and death. Alexis's breath remained steady, her grip tightening on the M-3 Predator pistol as she scanned the room.

The woman’s voice crackled back over the intercom, tense and biting through the static.

"Shepard! Security mechs are converging on your location."

Alexis exhaled sharply, ducking instinctively behind a toppled metal barrier, the edges of the steel still warm from nearby explosions. "Really need to figure out who is actually trying to kill me this time," she muttered under her breath, her words edged with dark sarcasm. The grip on her pistol tightened, the familiar weight grounding her amid the chaos. She peered cautiously over the jagged metal, eyes scanning the smoke-hazed room.

The far door groaned open with a shrill mechanical hiss, metal grinding against metal. From the dense smoke emerged a LOKI mech, its servos whining with each deliberate step. Its glowing optics locked onto her position, and with mechanical precision, it raised its rifle and unleashed a torrent of suppressive fire. Bullets screamed through the air, slamming into the barrier with deafening metallic clangs, sending sparks and shards of metal spraying in every direction.

Alexis pressed herself lower, counting the mech's firing rhythm—steady, predictable. She waited, heart pounding in her chest, for the brief hesitation between volleys. Then, moving with deadly precision, she pivoted out from cover, her pistol rising smoothly. Two sharp cracks split the air—the first round punched clean through the mech's torso, and the second shattered its chest plating in an explosion of sparks and shattered alloy. The machine convulsed, its limbs spasming erratically before collapsing into a heap of sparking, twisted metal.

Alexis didn't waste a second. Her senses sharpened, every sound slicing through the haze of smoke and fire. The lingering scent of burnt circuitry mingled with the acrid tang of gunpowder, thick and suffocating. She knew this wasn’t over—not yet.

She started to rise—and froze.

A sharp hiss of hydraulics sliced through the air, echoing ominously in the broken room. A side door groaned open, metal grinding against warped hinges. From the darkness beyond, four LOKI mechs marched in precise formation, their servos humming in eerie unison. Their crimson optics flared to life, scanning the wreckage with cold precision.

Without hesitation, the mechs raised their rifles in perfect synchronization and opened fire.

A hail of bullets screamed through the air, raking the walls and tearing through the debris around Alexis. Sparks and shards of metal erupted in all directions as the projectiles shredded through cover. Alexis instinctively dropped back, pressing herself against the cold metal barrier as splinters of glass and steel peppered the air.

She exhaled slowly, forcing her breath steady.

Stay calm. Focus.

Her HUD flared with red markers, rapidly tagging each advancing mech with precise targeting data. The rhythmic bursts of gunfire echoed in her ears, predictable and mechanical. She listened, counting the intervals between volleys.

Then she moved.

In one swift, fluid motion, Alexis slid out from cover, her pistol snapping up with surgical precision. The first mech's servos spasmed violently as two rounds punched through its exposed joints, sending it crashing to the floor in a sparking heap. She pivoted on instinct, squeezing the trigger in tight, controlled bursts. The second mech’s optic sensors shattered, its head snapping back before it toppled, limbs twitching.

But the remaining two mechs recalibrated instantly, adjusting their aim to track her movement, servos whining as they advanced with lethal intent.

A sharp, explosive hiss echoed—one of the damaged gas pipes venting pressure.

Alexis didn’t hesitate. Her eyes darted to the damaged gas pipe, closer to the advancing mechs than to her. Steam hissed violently from its fractured seams, venting pressurized gas in erratic bursts. Without wasting a second, she adjusted her aim, angling her pistol slightly upward. The shot rang out, striking the exposed pipe with pinpoint accuracy.

A brilliant spark ignited the leaking gas, and a roaring fireball erupted in an instant. The explosion bloomed outward, consuming the two nearest mechs in a violent surge of flame and shrapnel. Their synthetic frames crumpled under the blast, torn apart by the concussive force as their limbs twisted and sensors flickered out. Shards of metal and burning debris rained down, casting fleeting shadows across the smoke-choked room.

The blast heat washed over Alexis even from a distance, the force rattling the cover she crouched behind. Yet she remained steady, eyes locked on the smoldering wreckage.

Sparks and fire rained down, briefly illuminating the destruction. Only silence followed—broken by the distant hum of alarms.

“Good work,” the woman’s voice returned, more composed but still tight. “Keep moving. There are more mechs on the way.”

Alexis didn’t reply. She quickly moved forward, firing a round into the torsos onto the blasted mechs to ensure they were destroyed before she ejected her thermal clip, letting the smoking and spent thermal clip clink against the metal floor. Her breath was steady, her focus razor-sharp.

Without another glance at the smoldering wreckage, Alexis pressed forward, moving toward the next set of doors. The observation deck had been cleared, but the fight was far from over.

Alexis pressed forward, her boots thudding against the scorched floor as she moved with quick, deliberate steps. The station groaned around her, distant tremors rattling the structure, sending dust cascading from the vents above. The air was thick with smoke, the acrid stench of burning insulation and overheated metal clawing at her senses despite her helmet’s filters. Flickering emergency lights cast erratic shadows across walls pockmarked with bullet holes and charred by fire.

Through the swirling haze, movement caught her eye—a towering mech, its bulky frame outlined by the glow of burning debris. It moved with ruthless efficiency, targeting facility personnel scrambling for cover. Muzzles flashed as bursts of gunfire tore into fleeing bodies, their screams cut short as they crumpled to the floor, blood pooling beneath them. The mech adjusted its stance, scanning for further targets with cold, mechanical precision.

Alexis gritted her teeth, fingers twitching over her pistol grip. Every instinct screamed at her to act, to intervene, to stop the massacre. But she forced herself to keep moving. There was no cover, no tactical advantage—just an open corridor filled with fire and death. Whoever was controlling these mechs had marked her as the primary target, and she couldn't afford to waste time.

The woman’s voice crackled through her helmet’s comms, urgency layered beneath growing interference.

“Shepard… read me… got mechs… my position—”

The static surged, distorting the rest of the message before cutting out completely.

Alexis frowned, pushing forward at a faster pace. Her pulse drummed a steady rhythm in her ears, each breath measured and controlled. The station’s layout was twisting into a labyrinth of destruction—hallways marred by bullet-riddled walls, twisted steel grates underfoot slick with blood and oil. The once-sterile environment of the facility was reduced to little more than a warzone.

A side passage caught her eye—an office tucked away between the devastation. She pushed through the partially collapsed doorway, her HUD casting a dim blue glow over the ruined interior. The scent of burnt plastic lingered in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of ozone from fried electronics. The room was a mess—papers scattered haphazardly across the floor, monitors shattered, and chairs overturned as if someone had fled in a hurry.

A data terminal flickered weakly on the far end of the room, its screen cracked but still functional.

She approached cautiously, gloved fingers skimming over the interface before triggering an automated playback. A voice filled the small space—male, clipped, and agitated.

“—cost overruns are becoming unacceptable. The Lazarus Project is already the most expensive operation in Cerberus history, and the board is growing impatient. If we can’t guarantee results—”

The recording cut off in a burst of static. Alexis exhaled sharply, her brows knitting together. Lazarus Project? The name clawed at something in the back of her mind, half-formed memories tangled in the haze of her resurrection. Whatever they had done to bring her back, it was clear now—she wasn’t just another soldier. She was an investment.

Another file blinked on-screen, its timestamp more recent than the first. She activated it, and this time, a familiar voice filled the room. The woman from her comms.

“We’re past the initial phase. We’ve moved onto further integration. Neural synchronization is progressing better than anticipated, but long-term viability is still a concern. Continued observation is necessary.”

A cold sensation curled in Alexis’s stomach. Integration.

Her fingers flexed involuntarily, and she felt it—the unnatural precision, the too-fluid movement. She wasn’t just restored; she had been altered. Modified. The thought gnawed at the edges of her focus, but she shoved it down. She didn’t have time for this—not now.

The static in her comms flared again, the woman’s voice barely cutting through.

“Shepard… need you… get to—”

Then silence.

Alexis clenched her jaw and took off down the corridor at a sprint, her heartbeat hammering in time with her pounding footsteps. Whoever this woman was, she had answers. And Alexis intended to get to her before it was too late.

Alexis rounded a corner, her pistol raised as she scanned for threats. The air was thick with the scent of burning metal and the ozone tang of overloaded circuits. The flickering emergency lights above cast jagged shadows along the ruined corridor, where bullet-riddled walls and scorched debris created a battlefield of ruin.

Ahead of her, a man clad in the same uniform as the bodies she had passed was pinned down behind cover, exchanging fire with a cluster of LOKI mechs. A sharp glow flared around his hand, rippling like liquid fire as he launched a biotic shockwave. The force sent one of the machines crashing into the far wall, sparks exploding from its fractured chassis as it spasmed and went still.

His eyes locked onto her as she moved, shock flashing across his face as if he were seeing a ghost.

"Shepard? What the hell?"

Alexis didn’t have time to respond. A barrage of bullets from across the open gap tore through the air, forcing her into action. She threw herself into a slide, skidding across the ground beneath the oncoming fire. Sparks erupted from the metal flooring as rounds ricocheted off its surface. She hit the ground hard but controlled, rolling into cover beside the man, pressing her back against the barricade he had taken.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were still a work in progress,” he said, his tone caught between disbelief and urgency.

A low, guttural growl escaped her throat—feral and sharp. It startled her as much as it did him. The resonance of it was unnatural, more Quarian than Human, a sound she had once imitated but now came unbidden, her altered vocal cords shaping it instinctively. It was enough to make her pulse hammer harder against her ribs. What the hell did they do to me?

“Look,” she said, forcing herself to focus, “I just woke up, and mechs are trying to kill me. I don’t know where I am or who you people actually are. So how about you start filling me in?” Her voice was thick with her Quarian accent, sharpened further by frustration and adrenaline.

The man exhaled sharply. “Damn… Okay. I’m Jacob Taylor. I’ve been stationed here for—”

A round slammed into the cover by his head, cutting him off. He ducked reflexively, grimacing. “Things must be bad if Miranda has you up and running already. I’ll explain everything, but first, we need to get to the shuttle.”

Alexis wasn’t having it. “How about you tell me what the rahz'kiran is going on?” she snapped, using the Quarian curse without thinking.

Jacob gave her a look before relenting. “Fine. Short version—you and your ship were attacked and destroyed. You were killed. Dead. They brought you here, and our scientists spent the last two years putting you back together.”

Her brain latched onto two words with ruthless intensity— two years.

Her breath caught. A numbing sensation crawled up her spine, leaving her frozen, body locking up as panic surged through her veins. Two years. Not two weeks. Not two months. Two entire years had passed since the Normandy had burned, since she had died. The thought churned, twisting into something suffocating—was she even herself anymore? Or just a reconstruction of a woman who had once existed? How much of her was real? How much of her was hers ?

Then, suddenly—

“Creator-Shepard-Commander, you are you. Illogical to harm creator when can help.”

The synthetic voice reverberated in her head, grounding her, snapping her out of the spiral before it could consume her. Her fingers twitched over the pistol grip, breath dragging in and out, deeper now, steadier.

Deal with it later.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice steadier than she felt. “Let’s get a move on. I’ll save my questions for later.”

Before Jacob could respond, she moved, popping up from cover. Her pistol barked three times, each shot finding its mark. The remaining mechs collapsed in a cascade of shattered metal and fizzing circuitry.

She didn’t wait for praise, already moving forward. Jacob followed, glancing at her warily, but keeping pace.

“How much do you remember?” he asked as they hurried through the smoke-filled corridor.

Alexis flexed her free hand, still feeling the unnatural precision of her movements. “Enough.”

“Enough to trust me?”

She cast him a sidelong glance. “Trust isn’t given. It’s earned.”

Jacob exhaled but nodded. “Fair enough.”

A distant explosion rocked the station, followed by the unmistakable screech of tearing metal. The facility was coming down around them, and Alexis knew that if she wanted answers, she had to get out alive first.

“Keep up, Taylor,” she muttered, breaking into a sprint.

He didn’t argue, falling into step beside her as the chaos around them continued to escalate.

As they ran, Jacob’s omni-tool flared to life, the crackling frequency cutting through the ambient sounds of gunfire and distant explosions. The comms were chaotic, a mixture of static and desperate calls for help from scattered survivors, but one voice broke through clearly.

“Check, check. Anyone on this frequency? Anyone still alive out there? Hello?”

“Wilson, this is Jacob. I’m with Commander Shepard over in D Wing,” Jacob replied, his tone clipped, focused.

“Shepard’s alive? How the hell—never mind. You need to get her out of there. Get to the service tunnels and head for the network control room,” Wilson instructed, his voice tight with urgency.

“Roger that, Wilson. Stay on this frequency,” Jacob responded before ushering Alexis toward the service tunnels.

Alexis didn’t hesitate, her body moving on instinct as they navigated through the station’s collapsing infrastructure. Fire and smoke choked the hallways, ceiling panels dangling precariously, wires sparking where they had been ripped from their mounts.

More mechs blocked their path, scanning for targets the moment they stepped into view. Alexis’s pistol barked in response, controlled bursts tearing through the metal exteriors, sending shattered servos and coolant fluid splattering against the walls. Jacob surged forward, his biotics flaring as he sent two of the mechs careening into a bulkhead, their synthetic frames crumpling like paper. Sparks flew, smoke thickening in the air as they pressed on.

A sudden cry of pain erupted over the comm.

“Damn it—Ah! I’ve been hit!” Wilson’s voice was laced with pain, his breathing ragged.

Jacob and Alexis exchanged a glance before quickening their pace, moving with urgency as the sounds of distant combat grew louder. When they finally reached the server room, they found Wilson sprawled behind cover, gripping his leg where a dark stain of blood had pooled around his uniform.

“Bastards got me in the leg!” Wilson groaned as Jacob immediately moved to apply medigel, kneeling beside him.

Wilson hissed as the gel took effect, his fingers tightening against the floor as the numbing agent spread through his system. He leaned back against the console, breathing heavily. “I thought I could try and take control of the mechs again, but whoever did this totally fried the system.”

Jacob narrowed his eyes. “We didn’t ask what you were doing. How do you even have mech clearance? You’re in the bio wing.”

Wilson scoffed, his expression flashing with irritation. “I told you! I was trying to stop this, and I was shot! How do you explain that?”

Alexis folded her arms, exhaling sharply, her patience running thin. “Look, I don’t know any of you. I don’t trust any of you. So let’s get somewhere not on fire and deal with the rest later.”

“You’re right, Shepard,” Jacob conceded with a nod. “We need to find Miranda as well. We can’t leave her behind.”

“Forget about Miranda,” Wilson interjected quickly, his tone forced, almost too eager. “She was over in D Wing, the mechs were all over that sector. No way she survived.”

Alexis tuned out their bickering, focusing instead on Wilson’s tone. His words felt off. Too rehearsed. Was it desperation? Or something else? She wasn’t sure, but something about him put her on edge.

The shriek of servos and mechanical limbs snapped her back into the moment. More mechs stormed into the room, their weapons raising in unison. Alexis reacted instantly, her pistol snapping up as she fired controlled bursts, taking down the first machine before it could fire. Jacob followed suit, unleashing a biotic wave that sent two of them flying. The remaining mechs were caught in the crossfire, sparks and shredded metal raining down as they crumpled under the assault.

As silence settled, Jacob let out a tense breath. “Okay, this is getting out of hand. If I tell you who we work for, will you trust us?”

Alexis hesitated, then gave a slight nod, motioning for him to continue.

“The Lazarus Project… is funded and controlled by Cerberus.”

Before Jacob could elaborate further, Alexis’s pistol was up in an instant, the barrel trained squarely on his chest. A low, primal growl escaped her, something deeper than human. Her voice was venomous, her body tensed like a coiled spring, ready to strike.

“And what the rahz’kiran makes you think I’d trust a bunch of radical pro-humans that I’ve fought before?”

Jacob held up his hands, his posture measured. “Because the Alliance declared you dead, but Cerberus spent a fortune to bring you back.”

Alexis scoffed, her finger tightening on the trigger. “Aye, to use me for something, I bet. I will never work for Cerberus. Besides, I don’t think I meet your recruiting standards. Too alien for you.”

Her helmet masked her expression, but beneath it, she bared her teeth in a sharp, predatory grin. She didn’t notice, but Jacob and Wilson could see the way her pupils had dilated—slit-like, like a Quarian’s. It wasn’t just her voice that had changed.

Jacob didn’t lower his hands. “You have every right to be suspicious. But once we’re off this station, I’ll take you to the Illusive Man. He’ll explain everything.”

Alexis let out a slow breath before lowering her pistol—just slightly. “Fine. But I am watching you both.”

She motioned with the gun, ordering them ahead of her. “Move. I want you where I can see you.”

Jacob sighed but complied, helping Wilson to his feet. The three of them pressed forward, moving deeper into the station’s collapsing halls, where more answers—and more threats—awaited.

They pressed on, cutting through yet another wave of LOKI mechs blocking their path to the shuttle bay. The facility groaned around them, its structure failing as explosions rattled the walls and the shriek of tearing metal echoed through the corridors. Alarms blared, warning of critical failures in multiple sectors. Smoke choked the air, thick with the acrid scent of burning circuitry and scorched flesh.

More mechs poured in from multiple directions, their red optics flaring as they locked onto the escaping trio. Each step forward felt more treacherous, but Alexis moved with lethal efficiency. Her pistol snapped up with each precise, measured shot, her HUD tracking every movement. The mechs barely had time to return fire before they collapsed in heaps of shattered metal and fizzing components. She shifted her aim fluidly, every motion instinctive, the muscle memory of years of combat keeping her ahead of the chaos.

Beside her, Jacob used his biotics to devastating effect. A pulse of energy radiated from his outstretched hand, sending a mech flying backward, slamming it into the reinforced walls with enough force to crush its chassis. Sparks showered the floor, adding to the chaotic dance of light and shadow as more mechs closed in. He flung another aside, their forms colliding in a tangled mess of shattered limbs and ruptured plating.

Wilson was already ahead, moving with a desperate energy, his breath ragged as he reached a secured door. His hands trembled as they skated across the panel, fingers jabbing at the controls with frantic urgency. “Hurry! We’re almost there! Just through here—”

The door hissed open.

A woman with jet-black hair stood on the other side, waiting, her expression unreadable.

Wilson’s breath hitched as he stumbled back a step. “Miranda? But you were—”

His words never finished. A single gunshot rang out, sharp and final, cutting through the chaos. A round punched straight through Wilson’s chest, a small bloom of blood spreading across his uniform before his body jerked backward, collapsing to the floor with a dull, lifeless thud.

Miranda calmly lowered her pistol. “Dead?” she finished for him, her voice devoid of sympathy, her expression as composed as ever.

Jacob took a step forward, his expression tight with anger. “What the hell are you doing?” His gaze flicked between Miranda and Wilson’s crumpled form, his hands twitching at his sides as though restraining the urge to act.

Alexis remained still, stepping slightly to the side, keeping both of them in her periphery. Her pistol was still in her grip, but she made no move to raise it—yet.

Miranda met Jacob’s gaze, unwavering. “My job,” she said simply. “Wilson betrayed us all.”

Alexis exhaled slowly, her thoughts turning over rapidly. The pieces slid together, the inconsistencies in Wilson’s behavior, the forced urgency in his voice, the way he had dismissed Miranda so quickly. It all pointed to something she had already suspected.

“I had a feeling,” Alexis murmured. “Something about him didn’t quite make sense.”

Miranda nodded slightly, approval flickering across her expression. “Good instincts. Now, let’s grab the shuttle and get out of here before this whole place collapses around us.”

Jacob hesitated, his jaw tight with frustration, but the logic was undeniable. He turned away from Wilson’s body with a sharp exhale and strode toward the shuttle. Alexis cast one last glance at Wilson’s vacant, unseeing eyes before following, stepping into the waiting craft. She secured herself into a seat, strapping in as the ship’s engines roared to life.

The shuttle lifted off, shuddering as it pulled away from the crumbling station. Through the viewport, Alexis watched as the facility collapsed inward on itself, plumes of fire and debris billowing outward in a violent display of destruction. The wreckage of what had been the Lazarus facility drifted into the void, swallowed by the emptiness of space.

The past two years of her life—her death—had been reduced to little more than ash and memory.

As the station disappeared into the distance, Alexis leaned back against her seat, her mind already turning toward the next battle, the next confrontation.

Toward the Illusive Man.

~~

It was several hours of FTL travel before they finally arrived at another station, its structure hidden within the depths of space. The transition from the chaotic escape to the eerie silence of their arrival was almost jarring. As soon as the shuttle docked, Alexis was ushered through dimly lit corridors, the sterile silence unsettling. The station felt isolated, untouched by the chaos outside, as if existing in a void separate from the rest of the galaxy. The air carried the faintest hint of sterility, the lighting dim enough to make it feel like shadows loomed around every corner.

Eventually, she was guided into a chamber, circular and stark, a communication platform at its center. The design was clinical, minimalist, devoid of personal touches, as if its only function was to serve as a conduit for meetings with the enigmatic figure she was about to face. As she stepped onto the platform, a faint hum vibrated beneath her feet, a pulse that seemed to sync with the very core of her being. The walls around her ignited in a warm orange glow, forming a holographic field that enclosed her within its projection.

A figure materialized before her, seated casually in a chair, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar smoldering between his fingers. Behind him, the dying embers of a red giant star burned in the distance, casting long shadows across his form. The juxtaposition of the man’s calculated nonchalance and the cataclysmic beauty behind him felt intentional—designed to exude power, control, and an air of superiority.

“Commander Shepard,” the man greeted, his voice smooth, deliberate, each syllable measured.

Alexis tilted her head slightly, arms crossed over her chest. “The Illusive Man, I suppose? I guess you’re intent on living up to your name and not meeting me in person.” Her voice carried a growl, a sharp undercurrent of suspicion.

“A necessary precaution,” the Illusive Man responded, exhaling smoke in slow, deliberate intervals. “Not unusual for people who know what you and I know.”

“Or are you just afraid to come face to face with me after spending two years piecing me back together?” Alexis countered, her words laced with venom. She forced herself not to think too much about what had been used to rebuild her, what elements of her were truly hers and what had been replaced.

He regarded her calmly, his piercing gaze sharp and assessing. “Think what you will, but while you’ve been… resting, entire colonies have been disappearing. Human colonies. We believe someone is working with the Reapers, much like Saren and the Geth before them.”

Alexis narrowed her eyes. “The Reapers don’t play favorites. They want to wipe out all organic life, not just a handful of human settlements.”

“Hundreds of thousands of colonists have vanished,” the Illusive Man countered, swirling his drink idly. “That fits the definition of something worth paying attention to. No one else is investigating. The attacks are random, occurring in remote locations where no one is looking. Perhaps you got their attention when you killed one of them.”

Alexis could feel the weight of his words, but they didn't land the way he wanted them to. He emphasized human colonies, as if that would stir something within her, but she wasn’t like him. She didn’t feel the connection to humanity he was trying to push on her. The only thing that mattered was stopping the Reapers—if they were truly involved.

Even so, the thought lingered. If the Reapers—or something tied to them—were behind these disappearances, then it was worth investigating. That much, at least, she could admit. But trusting Cerberus to be the ones leading that investigation? That was an entirely different matter.

“Even if what you say is true, I have no reason to trust you, and I sure as hell don’t trust Cerberus,” Alexis said, her arms tightening against her chest. “And I don’t see why I should work with you. I doubt I even meet your recruitment standards.”

The Illusive Man smirked faintly, a knowing look in his eyes. “I would be disappointed if you believed any of this without proof. Which is why I’m sending you to Freedom’s Progress—the latest colony to go silent. I have a shuttle ready. Miranda and Jacob will brief you on the way.”

Alexis exhaled sharply, weighing her options. She didn't like this, but she couldn't ignore the possibility that something was happening—something bigger than Cerberus's motivations. If this was another threat to galactic stability, it was her responsibility to find out.

“Fine,” she said begrudgingly. “Let’s see what’s actually going on.”

The transmission ended without another word. The holographic walls faded away, leaving her standing alone in the quiet room, the hum of the platform beneath her feet dissipating. The moment stretched, the silence pressing in around her, making her acutely aware of how alone she was—rebuilt, repurposed, and now caught between forces she neither trusted nor fully understood.

Without hesitation, she turned on her heel and strode out, her pace brisk and purposeful. As she entered the next chamber, Miranda and Jacob were already waiting, falling into step beside her as she passed.

“Brief me on the way,” Alexis ordered, not breaking stride. Whatever answers they had, she would hear them en route. She wasn’t walking into this blind, not for Cerberus, not for the Illusive Man. If there were threats out there, she would find them—but she would do so on her own terms.

Chapter 21: XXI

Summary:

Freedom's Progress and a new old home.

Notes:

I forgot how much of a nothing mission Freedom's Progress actually is.
Also ME2 chapters are going to be more in line with length for my other fics, as I find it easier to write the 8k-10k chapters compared to some of the beasts of chapters the ME1 portion of this ended up being.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXI

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The shuttle’s interior was eerily quiet, the hum of its engines droning in the background, failing to dispel the suffocating stillness. Through the viewport, Freedom’s Progress loomed ahead, its metal structures bathed in the cold, sterile glow of emergency lights. The colony was silent, unnaturally so. The buildings stood intact, yet something about them felt wrong. No flickering lights of habitation, no distant movement in the streets. No life.

Alexis clenched her jaw as she studied the scene. It reminded her too much of Akuze, of Elysium—of moments where survival had been an afterthought to the violence. But there was no battle here. No smoldering wreckage, no streaks of blood marking desperate last stands. Just the overwhelming sense that something had reached into the colony and plucked its people from existence.

“We should be arriving shortly, Shepard,” Miranda broke the silence, her tone as measured as ever. “The Illusive Man put us under your command. Do you have any orders?”

Alexis barely spared her a glance, still adjusting the settings on her suit’s interface. The systems were unfamiliar, the layouts different from what she’d customized on the Normandy. It felt alien under her hands, just another reminder of how much had been altered without her consent.

“Prioritize checking for survivors,” she ordered. “I don’t care if every other colony’s been empty—we still need to check. Intel gathering can come later.”

Jacob and Miranda exchanged looks but said nothing. Alexis ignored them. Her fingers flexed against the plating of her gloves, her mind already racing through possible outcomes. She wasn’t about to trust Cerberus’s conclusions blindly.

The shuttle touched down, and the door hissed open. Alexis was the first out, her M-8 Avenger rifle raised and scanning. The air was still, thick with dust but absent of the scent of decay or destruction. Even the wind barely whispered through the narrow alleyways, and the only sounds came from their boots against the cold metal flooring.

They moved in formation, clearing the first building. Inside, remnants of life remained frozen in time. A half-eaten meal sat untouched on a table, the utensils placed neatly beside the plate as though its owner had intended to return. Jackets were draped over chairs, personal belongings scattered but not in panic—left behind, forgotten in a moment of eerie uniformity.

“Strange,” Miranda murmured, running a gloved hand over a table. “No signs of structural damage, no bodies, no signs of a struggle.”

Alexis didn’t answer, her gut twisting in unease. The colony wasn’t abandoned—it had been vacated. And that was worse.

A large cargo door stood ahead, its locking mechanism still engaged. Alexis moved toward it, keying the controls. The moment it slid open, gunfire erupted.

Instinct took over. She dove into cover, her helmet’s HUD flaring with red target markers as LOKI mechs on the other side opened fire. FENRIS mechs, their quadrupedal frames built for pursuit and takedown, charged toward them.

“Security systems on the other colonies were disabled,” Miranda shouted over the gunfire.

Alexis gritted her teeth, popping out of cover to fire. The LOKI mechs weren’t particularly durable, their plating giving way under the rapid bursts from her Avenger. Jacob took point against the FENRIS mechs, his biotics slamming them into walls with violent force. The fight ended swiftly, the mechs little more than scrap at their feet.

“Those mechs shouldn’t have attacked,” Jacob muttered. “They should have recognized us as human.”

“Someone reprogrammed them,” Miranda said. “We’re not alone here.”

Alexis nodded, already moving.

They pressed deeper into the colony. A reinforced door stood in their path, its interface displaying Quarian encryption. Alexis stepped forward, keying the command—only for weapons to be raised on the other side. Instinct kicked in, and she brought her rifle up in response.

Then she saw them—Quarian Marines, their sleek, environmental suits marking them as an official detachment. The lead Marine, rifle locked on her, barked an order. “Stop right there!”

Alexis barely had time to react before a second figure stepped forward, pushing down the Marine’s rifle with a firm grip.

“Prazza! You said you’d let me handle this,” Tali’Zorah’s voice rang through the air.

Alexis felt her breath catch. The rest of the colony, the mission, Cerberus—everything faded into the background. That voice. A voice she had never let herself hope to hear again. A voice that had anchored her when everything else had fallen apart.

“Tali…” Alexis breathed, her voice thick with emotion.

Tali’s helmet tilted, her body stiff with disbelief. “Al… Alexis, is that really you?”

They stared at each other across the gap, neither moving, neither willing to believe this moment was real.

“I… I think so, Tali. I hope so,” Alexis finally answered, the words slipping from her lips in Khelish, instinctive and raw.

Tali didn’t hesitate. She threw herself forward, arms wrapping tightly around Alexis’s neck, pressing their helmets together. The warmth of her, the familiarity of her suit, the way her fingers dug into Alexis’s armor—it was grounding in a way that nothing else had been since waking up in that Cerberus lab.

“It’s you…”

“I’m sorry…” Alexis whispered at the same time Tali spoke.

“No—no need to be sorry.” Tali’s voice trembled. “You kept your word. You came back to me.”

The moment was so all-consuming that Alexis didn’t immediately register the presence behind her. It was only when a firm, familiar hand rested on her shoulder that she turned, her breath catching again as she met the gaze of another person she had feared she’d never see again.

Her mother.

Mari’Saalas stood just behind her, her visor reflecting the dim emergency lights, unable to fully mask the emotion in her stance. Her voice, when she spoke, was thick with something deeper than words. “Lexi.”

Alexis barely choked back a sob before pulling Mari into the embrace, wrapping both her mother and Tali close, afraid to let go. “Mum…” The word escaped her in a choked breath, all pretense of the hardened soldier crumbling.

Mari’s arms tightened around her. “Sshh. I’ve got you, Lexi. I’ve got you.”

For the first time since opening her eyes on that operating table, Alexis felt like she was home.

Nearby, Miranda and Prazza were already arguing.

“I demand to know why Cerberus is here!” Prazza snapped, his rifle still gripped tightly. “We were investigating this colony—why are you interfering?”

Miranda’s voice was cool, dismissive. “We have every right to investigate a human colony. The better question is, why are the Quarians here?”

But Alexis wasn’t listening. She stayed where she was, arms still locked around the two people who mattered most, letting herself feel for the first time since her resurrection.

For now, the rest of the world could wait.

The three of them slowly broke their embrace, though Alexis kept a firm hold on Tali’s hand as they turned their attention toward Miranda. Tali’s grip was strong, grounding, and Alexis wasn’t quite ready to let go just yet. The moment still lingered, the quiet understanding between them something that neither words nor time could fully sever. But there were pressing matters at hand, and Alexis forced herself to focus.

“We don’t need another fight,” Tali said, her voice steady but firm. “One of our people was here on Pilgrimage. His name is Veetor. We came to find him.”

Miranda crossed her arms, unreadable as ever. Alexis glanced between them, her voice firm. "Have you found any sign of the other Quarian?"

Tali hesitated for just a moment before nodding. “We’ve seen him, but he might not be in the best state,” she admitted, a subtle tension in her tone. “He was injured and… ah, nervous around—”

“She means he’s unstable,” Prazza interjected, his tone clipped, impatient. “Combine that with damage to his suit’s CO2 scrubbers and an infection from an open-air wound, he’s likely delirious.”

Alexis frowned at that, her grip on Tali’s hand tightening unconsciously. A compromised suit was dangerous enough, but an infection? That could be fatal for a Quarian. The thought made her stomach coil with unease.

“Where is he now?” she asked.

“When he saw us landing, he fled to a warehouse on the far side of town,” Tali explained, squeezing Alexis’s hand briefly as if to anchor herself in the conversation. “We suspect he also reprogrammed the mechs to attack anything that moved. He’s scared, Commander. He needs help.”

Alexis nodded, taking in the information quickly, piecing together the scenario in her mind. A young Quarian, alone, injured, and likely terrified—programming the mechs to attack wasn’t aggression. It was desperation.

“Then let’s work together and find Veetor,” Alexis said, voice firm with command but gentle in intent. “Cerberus can get their intel, and we get to rescue one of the Fleet.”

Tali’s visor tilted slightly, a sign of her smile even if Alexis couldn’t see it. That small motion, the familiarity of it, sent warmth through her chest. “We’ll need two teams to get past the drones anyway,” she said, already slipping into coordination mode. “Head for the warehouse through the center of the colony—we’ll circle around the far side and draw off some of the drones to clear you a path.”

Alexis’s jaw tightened at the thought of separating from Tali again so soon. She had just gotten her back. But the logic was sound. Still, she wasn’t about to let her go without a proper farewell. Without hesitation, she pulled Tali into another hug, holding her close for just a moment longer. Their helmets pressed together, a brief, helmeted kiss shared in quiet defiance of the situation. The world could wait—this moment was theirs.

As Tali and the Marines prepared to move out, Mari remained at Alexis’s side. Her stance was relaxed, but the glint in her eyes behind her visor was anything but. Alexis didn’t need to ask—she knew exactly what her mother was thinking before she even spoke.

“I’m sticking with you, Lexi,” Mari said, her voice carrying that familiar, teasing smirk that made Alexis feel like she was home. “Tali has the squad to watch her back, but you? You’ve only got a couple of Cerberus people. You need at least one extra Quarian to keep an eye on them.”

Alexis chuckled, shaking her head. She knew better than to argue with Mari when she was like this. “Just don’t scare them too much, Mum.”

Mari flashed a sharp grin, her canines visible even behind her helmet. “No promises.”

The quiet tension of Freedom’s Progress loomed around them, the stillness thick with unspoken fears and unanswered questions. The colony wasn’t just empty—it felt wrong . As Alexis and Mari fell into step together, the silence pressed against them like a suffocating weight.

The distant hum of machinery echoed between the buildings, but there was no movement beyond their own. No signs of life, no evidence of a battle—just the eerie stillness of a place where something had gone terribly wrong. The faint blue glow of emergency lights flickered in alleyways, casting long, jagged shadows over the cold metal streets. Overturned crates, scattered tools, personal belongings left abandoned—all of it painted the picture of a colony that had simply stopped . No panic. No blood. Just an absence.

Alexis kept her rifle at the ready, her instincts sharp, honed by years of war. Her helmet’s HUD scanned for movement, but there was nothing beyond the faint traces of their own steps.

Mari’s voice cut through the quiet, low and knowing. “This place has you on edge.”

Alexis exhaled slowly. “I don’t like how clean this is. People don’t just vanish without a trace.”

Mari nodded, her own posture tense with the same wariness. “That’s what’s bothering me too. No signs of struggle, no bodies. Even slavers don’t work this cleanly.”

A chill ran down Alexis’s spine. “If this is the Reapers, they’ve changed tactics.”

Mari didn’t answer right away. Then, softly, “Then we better find Veetor fast. He might be the only one who knows what really happened here.”

Alexis tightened her grip on her rifle, eyes scanning the empty streets ahead. They had a mission. And she intended to see it through.

With that, they pressed forward, stepping deeper into the eerie silence of Freedom’s Progress, ready to find Veetor—and whatever answers the colony still had to give.

As they moved deeper into the abandoned corridors of Freedom's Progress, the unsettling quiet pressed in around them like a suffocating fog. The empty colony felt more like a graveyard with every step—tables still set with half-eaten meals, toys scattered across floors, datapads blinking with forgotten reminders. The air was heavy with the weight of what wasn’t there: no bodies, no signs of resistance. Just silence.

That silence shattered abruptly as pulse rifle fire echoed through a side hallway. Alexis immediately took point, her movements sharp and purposeful. Mari moved beside her, her own weapon raised and scanning. Jacob and Miranda followed, each one checking corners and sightlines with the ease of trained soldiers. Security drones dropped from above or burst through walls, their optics glowing with hostile red light.

The firefight was fast and chaotic—drones zipping through the air, trying to flank them. Alexis rolled into cover, snapped off two shots that brought down a pair of drones mid-flight, and vaulted over a barricade to clear the rest of the corridor. Sparks rained down from fried circuitry and metal carcasses.

Tali’s voice crackled across the comms, urgent and tight with frustration. “Alexis! Prazza and his squad rushed ahead—they don’t trust Cerberus to not try and take Veetor. I told them to wait, but they wouldn’t listen.”

Mari let out a sharp curse, her voice simmering with irritation. “I should’ve known Prazza would pull something reckless with Cerberus around.”

Alexis sighed, the tension coiling in her gut. “Can’t really blame him for being cautious. Cerberus isn’t exactly known for playing nice with aliens—but he should’ve trusted you.”

They pressed on, boots echoing through hollow, lifeless streets. Overturned chairs, shattered glass, and a single toy drone sitting abandoned in a doorway painted a picture of chaos without struggle—like people had simply vanished mid-action. No blood, no sign of a fight. Just absence.

Minutes passed like hours, each step drawing them closer to the far side of the colony.

Tali’s voice burst over the comm again, now with real panic. “We’re inside the loading docks. Hurry! Veetor reprogrammed a heavy mech—it’s tearing Prazza’s squad apart!”

“Copy that,” Alexis barked. She signaled her squad with a crisp hand gesture, then led them at a run toward the loading bay. They skidded into position beside the massive metal doors, weapons drawn.

Miranda and Jacob took one side, crouching behind a supply crate. Alexis and Mari took the other, backs to the wall, hearts pounding.

“On my mark,” Alexis said, her voice low and steady.

She counted to three and gave the order. The doors hissed open with a hydraulic groan—and chaos exploded outward.

Gunfire roared. Screams echoed.

The YMIR-class heavy mech dominated the room like a monster out of a nightmare. Its plating was blackened with scorch marks, but it moved with unwavering, murderous focus. One Quarian marine stumbled backward, scrambling to rise—only for the mech to stomp its massive foot down, the sickening crunch of armor and bone making Mari flinch beside Alexis.

The mech raised its arm-mounted machine gun and fired point-blank into the downed soldier, shredding her before turning to unleash a barrage of rockets. The explosion hurled two more marines backward, slamming them into the far wall like ragdolls.

Another Quarian darted from cover—too slow. Bullets tore through his chest, pinning him against a crate before he crumpled in a lifeless heap.

“Engage!” Alexis commanded, her voice cutting through the cacophony like a blade. She sprinted into cover, sliding behind a support pillar while Mari peeled off to flank the mech.

Jacob unleashed a powerful biotic warp that destabilized the mech’s shielding, while Miranda knelt with calm precision, placing shots into the mech’s joints and optic sensors.

Alexis raised her omni-tool, muscle memory kicking in to initiate one of her custom hacks. But nothing happened.

Her breath hitched.

All of her programs—every script, every line of code she and Tali had perfected together—gone.

Her heart thundered. Her vision tunneled.

But before she could spiral into panic, her omni-tool shimmered. Lines of unfamiliar code burst across her interface—clean, efficient, adaptive. Her fingers moved instinctively, navigating the stream of data as if guided by an unseen hand.

The program launched.

The mech’s shielding screamed as it collapsed, overloaded by a cyberwarfare pulse so precise and powerful that Alexis felt the hair on her arms rise.

She blinked.

That hadn’t come from her. Not really. Whatever just hijacked her omni-tool—whatever had rebuilt her—was still with her. Watching. Helping.

She shoved the thought down.

Not now. Focus. Later.

“Shields down!” she shouted. “Light it up!”

With renewed focus, Alexis broke from cover, firing controlled bursts at the exposed circuits of the YMIR mech’s neck and knees. Mari dashed in from the flank, tossing an incineration grenade that detonated beneath the mech’s chassis, damaging its servos and making it stagger.

Jacob followed up with another biotic slam that forced the mech back against a steel pillar, where Miranda landed a perfect shot into its central processor.

With a final gurgling hiss of hydraulics and sparks, the mech collapsed in a heap of broken metal.

Silence returned—but it was the heavy, mourning kind.

Across the loading dock, the surviving Quarians tended to their wounded. Alexis stepped forward slowly, her rifle lowered, heart still pounding—not from the battle, but from what her omni-tool had done.

Whatever Cerberus had turned her into, it wasn’t done showing itself.

And Alexis wasn’t sure how long she could keep pretending she was still the same woman who had died in the void.

But for now, the mission wasn’t over.

With the mech destroyed and its smoking frame crumpled in the corner of the loading bay, Alexis signaled for her team to regroup. She holstered her rifle with a smooth, practiced motion, her helmet sweeping the area for threats as she moved forward. Mari joined her first, her presence a quiet reassurance. A moment later, Tali approached at a quick jog, her breathing quick over the comms as she took up a position beside Alexis.

"Let’s finish this," Alexis said, gesturing to the final large bay door set into the far end of the warehouse.

The door slid open with a hydraulic hiss, revealing a dimly lit room beyond. Inside, Veetor stood before a wide wall of monitors, his posture hunched and twitching, his fingers tapping frantically across an interface.

"Monsters coming back. Mechs will protect. Safe from swarms. No monsters. No-no-no. No swarms," he mumbled, rocking slightly on his feet.

"Veetor?" Alexis asked gently, stepping forward with her hands open.

Veetor flinched, turning sharply without truly looking at them. "No Veetor. Not here. Swarms can’t find. Monsters coming. Have to hide."

Miranda scoffed behind them. "Great, we come all this way and our only witness is a babbling idiot."

Alexis snapped her head around, her voice sharp. "His suit is compromised and he’s running an infection. Would like to see you doing better."

Turning back to Veetor, Alexis activated her omni-tool, slowly deactivating the monitors one at a time. The flickering light dimmed with each darkened screen, the room becoming quieter, more stable.

Veetor’s eyes flicked between the monitors as they died. When the last one blinked off, he seemed to freeze for a heartbeat before finally turning to face them. His gaze locked on Alexis’s armor, then the others behind her.

"You’re humans... They didn’t find you?"

"Who didn’t find us?" Miranda asked, stepping forward again.

"The monsters. The swarm. They took everyone," Veetor whispered.

Alexis kept her voice soft. "What happened, Veetor?"

"You don’t know. You didn’t see. But I see everything."

He turned back to the control panel, his fingers trembling as they danced across the controls, shakily pulling up one of the video feeds. The monitor stuttered to life, revealing static-laced, grainy footage of tiny insect-like drones swarming the colony’s deserted streets. The sound of their buzzing filled the room, a low droning hum that crawled under the skin and made Mari’s posture stiffen.

The speakers let out distorted bursts of audio as Veetor cycled through more of the footage. One screen displayed grotesque pod-like constructs being moved methodically into the colony’s loading docks. They pulsed faintly with a sickly organic glow, hauled by obscured figures that came into focus on the next screen. Tall, insectoid aliens—their limbs long and jointed in too many places, armor slick and ridged like carapace—stepped with eerie grace through the haze. Mari leaned closer, her voice low and grim.

"Collectors."

Miranda paled slightly, her voice a whisper. "If they’re working with the Reapers..."

"The seeker swarms," Veetor said, nodding quickly, his words tumbling out in panicked bursts. His gestures were wild, almost manic. "No one can hide. The seekers—they find you, freeze you—and then the monsters take you. They took everyone. Loaded them onto their ship like cargo. Then they left. The ship flew away, but they’ll come back. No one escapes. No one."

Alexis took a slow step forward, her voice calm and steady despite the chill in her spine. "You did everything you could, Veetor. You made it out alive. That’s what matters. We’ll get you home."

Veetor’s wide, feverish eyes locked on her, then shifted rapidly to the others. He clutched at his arm as though the memories physically pained him. "I watched them. Studied them. The monsters, the swarms. I recorded it all. Electromagnetic patterns... Dark energy... It’s all stored in my omni-tool. Everything."

Miranda stepped forward abruptly, her tone clinical. "We need that data. Grab the Quarian and call the shuttle. We’ll go through the recordings once we’re secure."

Mari’s head snapped toward Miranda, her voice vibrating with a low, guttural growl that made the room go still. Alexis found herself responding without thinking, a similar feral vocalization rising unbidden from her throat. The sound was raw and unmistakably Quarian. Tali flinched—not from fear, but surprise—her eyes locking with Alexis’s behind their visors, understanding dawning.

"Veetor is injured," Tali snapped, stepping protectively closer to him. "He needs help. Not a debriefing."

Alexis nodded firmly, her tone unyielding. "He’s going back to the Fleet, where he’ll get care. But if he’s willing, we’ll take a copy of the data. That’s non-negotiable."

She turned toward Veetor, her voice softening. "Is that okay, Veetor? Can we take a copy?"

Veetor blinked slowly, then gave a small nod. "Yes. Just... don’t let them take me."

Tali stepped forward and initiated the data transfer, their omni-tools flashing in synchronized pulses. A soft tone confirmed the exchange.

"Done. You have what you need," Tali said sharply, making it clear the discussion was over.

Miranda frowned, clearly biting back her annoyance, before turning away to call in the shuttle.

"Veetor is injured. He needs medical care, not interrogation," Tali snapped.

Alexis nodded. "He’s going back to the Fleet. But if he’s willing, we’ll take a copy of his data."

"Veetor?" Tali asked gently.

Veetor nodded, raising his omni-tool. Tali stepped forward, linking her own and transferring the files to Alexis’s system. A soft beep signaled the completed transfer.

"There. Now you’ve got what you need," Tali said firmly.

Miranda scowled slightly but tapped her comm to call in the shuttle.

As the wind from the incoming shuttle whipped through the broken windowpanes of the warehouse, Alexis stayed close to Mari and Tali. The hum of the Kodiak’s engines grew louder as it descended.

Tali returned from speaking with a wounded but recovering Prazza, her steps purposeful as she walked back to Alexis’s side.

Alexis took a breath to say goodbye, fully expecting Tali and Mari to return to the Fleet. But both of them followed her to the shuttle’s ramp.

She blinked in surprise. "Tali...?"

"We just got you back, Alexis. I’m not letting you go again," Tali said.

Mari gave a small, affectionate snort. "And someone has to keep an eye on you. And Cerberus. That means at least one extra Quarian."

The three of them boarded the shuttle together, the doors sealing behind them as they left the ruined colony—and Veetor’s haunted warnings—behind.

~~

After returning to the station and finishing her tense call with the Illusive Man, Alexis stood still for a breath as the orange holo-image flickered out of existence. His last words echoed in her ears:

"I’ve found you a pilot."

The silence barely lasted a second before she heard footsteps behind her, steady and familiar. She turned as they echoed closer across the sleek metal floor.

"Hey, Commander," said a voice for her had only been a couple days since she heard, laced with dry humour that didn’t quite mask the emotion beneath. "Just like old times, huh?"

Alexis turned fully to face him. Joker stood just inside the threshold, hands in the pockets of his jacket, trying to act casual. But his eyes—he couldn’t hide what was in them.

A smile crept across her face beneath the opaque visor of her helmet. "I’m glad it’s you, Joker."

That hit him harder than he expected. He nodded, jaw tight, swallowing against the surge of guilt that had lived in his chest since the Normandy burned around them. He hadn't been able to save her. Not really.

"How’d you get here, then?" Alexis asked gently, offering him something easier to talk about.

Joker shrugged with a breath that was almost a laugh. "It all fell apart without you, Commander. Everything you stirred up, the Council just wanted gone. The Normandy crew got broken up. Records sealed. I got grounded. They were happy to move on."

Alexis’s posture stiffened slightly. That hurt, even if she’d expected it. "You really trust the Illusive Man? Cerberus?"

"Hell no," Joker said immediately, the humour sharper now. "I wouldn’t trust that guy with a glass of water. But they brought you back. They gave me something to fly again. And there’s this."

He gestured toward the wide viewing window as the lights outside began to shift and brighten, illuminating the ship docked beside the station. Alexis stepped closer, drawn by instinct.

What she saw stole her breath. Larger than the last, sleeker in design, but unmistakably her ship.

The Normandy.

Her home.

Even under the Cerberus paint and updated hull, she’d know that silhouette anywhere. Every line of the ship whispered memories of battle, of quiet conversations in the mess, of family forged in fire.

Joker watched her as she stared. "They rebuilt her too. Said they took the original blueprints. Improved the systems. It’s not exactly the same... but it flies better than anything I’ve ever touched. And it’s yours."

Alexis took a slow breath, her fingers curling into a light fist at her side. "No. It’s ours ."

Joker smiled for real this time, some of the weight lifting from his shoulders. "Damn right, Commander."

Together, they turned from the observation deck, walking side by side toward the future Cerberus had built for them—and whatever war waited beyond the stars.

~

The CIC doors slid open with a familiar hiss, and Alexis stepped onto the deck of the Normandy SR-2.

The sound hit her like a wave—the gentle hum of the drive core vibrating through the deck plates, the low, rhythmic pulse of the ship’s systems cycling power, the soft tones of consoles and terminals alive with activity. It was different, sleeker, newer, but it still felt like home. For Alexis, it had only been a few days since she watched the Normandy torn apart in the black, her lungs seizing as the cold void reached in to claim her. Now, she stood on her ship again. Alive. Somehow.

The CIC stretched out before her, longer than the original, with smooth Cerberus-white bulkheads and golden lights inset in black alloy flooring. But the layout was familiar. The command terminal sat at the heart of the raised platform, glowing orange with holographic overlays, surrounded by stations where the crew would one day take their posts. She could almost hear the chatter of her old team, almost see Pressly at his console, Tali bent over a systems report beside Garrus.

Tali walked just a step behind her, close enough that Alexis could hear the soft thrum of her rebreather. Mari moved on her other flank, posture relaxed but eyes scanning, ever the marine. This was new for both of them, stepping into a ship rebuilt by Cerberus, but Alexis saw it in their body language—they trusted her judgment.

Behind them, Miranda walked at a deliberate pace, her voice even. “I’ve been reviewing the dossiers for the specialists. I recommend starting with the Salarian doctor on Omega. We’ll need someone of his skill to develop countermeasures against the Collector swarms.”

Alexis nodded, her helmet shifting slightly. “Without that protection, we won’t last five minutes if we run into them again.”

A soft chime sounded from the command terminal, and a voice unlike any she expected echoed from the air behind her. “Acquiring Professor Solus does appear to be the most logical course of action.”

Alexis turned sharply, her hand dropping instinctively near her pistol. A glowing blue sphere hovered over the CIC terminal.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice cool.

“I am the Normandy’s artificial intelligence. The crew have taken to calling me EDI.”

The word AI dropped like a lead weight. Alexis, Tali, and Mari immediately stepped back, hands twitching toward their hips.

“I do not want an AI on my ship,” Alexis said, her voice sharp with alarm.

“Worry not, Commander,” EDI said smoothly. “I do not have direct access to the ship’s systems. My primary role is advisory support and coordination of cyberwarfare suites during combat.”

Alexis hesitated, glancing at Tali. Her partner frowned but gave a small shrug. “If it gets out of line, I can take care of it. For now, let’s see what it does.”

Still uneasy, Alexis gave a curt nod. “Fine. EDI, set course for the Citadel. I want to re-establish Spectre status before we head to Omega.”

“Course laid in,” EDI responded. “FTL jump prepared.”

Alexis exhaled through her helmet, the faintest hiss audible only to herself. “I’ll be in my quarters until we arrive. Tali, Mum… join me if you like.”

The three of them turned from the CIC as the Normandy surged forward into FTL, the stars blurring into white lines beyond the viewports. Home had returned, but the galaxy they were flying into was darker than ever.

The descent to the captain's quarters was quiet. Alexis, Tali, and Mari moved through the pristine corridors of the SR-2, the hum of the upgraded Normandy thrumming underfoot. Unlike the jury-rigged and modified quarters on the SR-1, these were clearly designed for comfort and status. A pressurised airlock separated the room from the rest of the ship, a compromise for environmental needs. Once through, the three women removed their helmets with practiced motions, the soft hiss of disengaging seals filling the quiet room.

The moment the helmet lifted from Alexis's head, she let out a shaky breath, her fingers twitching. Tali's hand reached out, finding hers instinctively, their fingers intertwining. Mari moved across the room, taking a seat on one of the chairs while keeping a careful eye on her daughter.

Tali inhaled softly when she met Alexis’s gaze. The eyes staring back were no longer just human. They were unmistakably Quarian—slitted, reflecting faint ultraviolet hues even in the soft lighting. Tali remembered those eyes well from childhood—eyes that only a Quarian could have.

Alexis offered no words, only a slight nod. She lowered herself onto the couch beside Tali, her movements hesitant. She had moved like a soldier all day. Now she moved like someone afraid of what she might find beneath the armour.

"Can you... help?" she finally whispered.

Tali nodded, her hands gentle as she undid the seals on Alexis's armour. Piece by piece, the protective shell came off, revealing the form beneath. Alexis had always been lean and strong, her body a product of discipline and battlefield necessity. But now... now she was something else.

Her right arm clanked softly as the plating shifted. It wasn’t Alliance tech. It wasn’t even human. The angles were too sharp, the design too streamlined. Geth. The matte black plating was inlaid with pulsing lights in soft cerulean, the same hue the Geth used in their optic sensors. Where metal met flesh at her shoulder, there was no smooth transition. Skin puckered around the join, the cybernetics anchored deep. Scar tissue curled and twisted where human nerves met invasive technology.

Alexis watched Tali’s expression, waiting for something—revulsion, fear, pity. But all she saw was quiet, heartbreaking sadness.

“Your leg too?” Tali asked softly.

Alexis nodded.

She shifted slightly and tapped her left thigh. A faint hum followed as a segment of her fatigues shifted with a magnetic click, revealing more of the alien metal beneath. Her right leg was the same as her arm—Geth design, grafted into her body like a parasite made permanent.

“There’s more,” Alexis said, her voice barely audible. “Not just limbs. I can feel it… inside. My senses, my reflexes. I can see things I shouldn’t. Track movements without thinking. My body isn’t just mine anymore.”

Mari’s expression tightened.

“The systems… they don't sleep. They hum. Always. I can hear them even when everything else is quiet.” Alexis’s hand trembled. “And when I touch something metal, I can feel the charge. Sometimes I can see data flicker behind my eyes, like I’m still linked to the HUD.”

Tali leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, her voice thick with emotion.

“You came back to me. That’s all I care about.”

Alexis let out a choked laugh, somewhere between grief and exhaustion. “Came back? Tali… I died. I remember choking on smoke. Fire clawing through the hull. And then nothing.” She paused, blinking rapidly. “Then I woke up and everything was wrong. My body, my senses. I didn’t let myself think about it, I just... focused on the mission.”

Mari stood and crossed the room to kneel beside them. She took Alexis’s left hand—the one still human—and pressed it between her own.

“You’re still you. No matter what they did.”

“But I didn’t get to choose,” Alexis whispered. “They rebuilt me into something alien. Something useful.”

Mari brushed her knuckles over Alexis’s temple. “That wasn’t your choice. But what you do with it now is.”

Alexis’s breath hitched. Her throat tightened. And then, the tears came.

They slipped past her eyes without warning, hot and uncontrolled. Her body trembled as the realization struck her with the force of a collapsing star—she had died. She had been violated. She had been changed.

A low, keening sound escaped her lips—raw and foreign, laced with the warbling harmonics of Quarian grief. It didn’t sound human. It didn’t sound like anything she’d ever made before. It was instinctual, ripped from deep in her core. Her vocal cords had been changed. Even her grief had been taken and made strange.

Tali was there in a heartbeat, pulling Alexis against her, arms tight and voice soft as she murmured in Khelish, rocking them gently.

Mari moved in behind her daughter, wrapping both arms around them, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety. One hand on Alexis’s shoulder, the other stroking down her back, murmuring soft reassurances that only a mother could give.

“We’ve got you, Lexi,” Mari whispered. “We’ve got you.”

“I’m here. We’re here,” Tali added, pressing their cheeks together.

Alexis’s sobs broke fully now—sobs that rattled through her chest with static-tinged echoes, sounding too synthetic, too inhuman. But it didn’t matter. Not to them.

Tali and Mari held her as she came apart. And in that moment, Alexis finally let herself grieve. Not just for what had been done to her—but for what she had lost.

Her body. Her life. Her self.

And yet… they were still here. And so was she.

The sobs came in waves, deep and raw, raking through Alexis's chest with no care for the agony they left behind. Her entire frame shook, as if releasing the years of grief and confusion that had been tightly bound beneath her N7 discipline. Her breath caught in painful gasps, the unfamiliar weight of her modified lungs wheezing in unsteady rhythm. And through it all, Tali and Mari never let go.

Mari held Alexis against her side, cradling her head against her shoulder like she had when Alexis was a child. Her gloved fingers rubbed gentle circles into the curve of Alexis's spine, matching the rhythm of her softly murmured words in Khelish. She didn’t try to offer false comfort or promises she couldn’t keep—just presence, steady and strong.

Tali sat in front of Alexis, her knees brushing against Alexis's. Both of her hands held Alexis's own, firmly and without hesitation. She didn’t flinch at the cold metal of the right one or shy away from the barely-there whir of servos under the synthetic skin. Her thumbs stroked across Alexis's knuckles in slow, calming motions, treating both hands as equal—as hers.

"They said you were gone," Tali whispered at last, breaking the long silence with a voice that shook slightly. "When the Normandy was hit, I was already being recalled to the Fleet. They said there was no time. That no one could be saved."

Mari glanced at her, her voice low. "I almost didn't believe it. Not at first. I… I spent weeks searching for anything they might have missed. Pods, distress beacons, debris trails. Anything."

Alexis said nothing, only pressed her forehead against Tali's, drawing strength from the contact. Her breathing was slowing, her body less tense, though her face was still damp with tears.

"They recovered your tags," Tali continued, her voice quieter now. "The Alliance. And your armour fragments. They gave a memorial. A lot of us were there. Even Garrus and Liara. I stayed with your mum afterward. We kept going. For you."

Mari nodded. "We never stopped believing you mattered. Even if they closed your file and locked up your name. We remembered. We told your stories. We kept you alive in the only ways we could. Even when the galaxy tried to move on."

Alexis looked up at them, her eyes still glassy and rimmed red, her voice unsteady. "But you didn’t know this was how I’d come back… a patchwork of metal and ghosts."

Tali shook her head slowly, her thumbs never ceasing their gentle pass over Alexis’s knuckles. "No, we didn’t. But it doesn’t change anything. Not for me. Not for your mother. You’re here. You’re still Lexi. They rebuilt your body, not your soul. That was always yours."

Mari reached over again, brushing a strand of damp hair from Alexis’s brow, fingers lingering at her temple. "You’re ours, child. You always were. No machine, no cold lab, no shadow group can take that from us. Or from you."

Alexis let out a breath, ragged but freer than before. Then another. Her grip on Tali’s hands tightened, the weight of those steady fingers anchoring her as surely as any tether. The storm inside her—raging since she first opened her eyes in that lab—began to still.

For the first time since waking, she felt not just operational, not merely conscious. She felt like herself. Like someone who still belonged to the people who loved her.

And so they stayed that way—Tali on one side, Mari on the other, encircling her in arms that knew her before the wires and synth-muscle. The quiet hum of the Normandy SR-2 filled the space around them, warm and constant. No words passed between them for a long time. They didn’t need them. Not here. Not in this room, where metal and scars were just another part of being alive. Just breath, closeness, and the unspoken promise that whatever came next—they would face it together.

They stayed there together for hours, the gentle hum of the Normandy’s FTL drive a constant lull beneath the silence of the captain's quarters. The lights had dimmed to a warm, golden hue, reflecting softly off the metallic surfaces and casting long shadows across the floor. It was a silence filled with presence—not emptiness, but weight. The quiet was a balm after years of noise. War. Loss. Grief.

Alexis hadn’t moved. Her head rested against Tali’s shoulder, her hands still held in Tali’s warm grasp. Mari sat across from them, her gaze never leaving her daughter. None of them needed to speak. There was nothing words could say that touch hadn’t already expressed. Their closeness was its own language.

But time, as always, moved on. Alexis let out a long yawn, her shoulders sagging beneath the exhaustion she had been keeping at bay since the moment she woke up in the chaos of the Lazarus facility. The adrenaline had drained away. The grief had burned through her. Now, only the brittle weariness of a soul long denied rest remained.

Mari shifted forward, brushing back a strand of Alexis’s hair, her gloved fingers tender as they tucked it behind her daughter’s ear. Then she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Rest, ras’ka,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Let yourself rest. We’ve got you now.”

Alexis blinked slowly in acknowledgment, her movements sluggish. When Mari rose and murmured something about giving them space, Alexis barely noticed. The older Quarian left with a final, lingering touch on Alexis’s shoulder, and the door closed behind her with a soft hiss.

Tali didn’t move. Her fingers stayed wrapped around Alexis’s, grounding her in the moment. “Lexi… would it be okay if I stayed with you tonight?” she asked softly. Her voice was tentative, as if she feared the answer.

Alexis stirred at that, sitting up slightly. Her eyes, faintly glowing now even in the dark, searched Tali’s face. “You… want to? With me?” she asked, her voice raw. “Like this?”

Her gaze dropped to her own body, to the faint bioluminescent glow tracing artificial seams beneath her skin. The lines flickered gently with each breath—ghosts of what she’d longed to have, now cruelly gifted to her by the people who remade her.

“I look like a copy of a dream I once had,” Alexis said, trying to laugh, but it caught in her throat. “Not really human. Not really Quarian. Just… built.”

Tali’s hand cupped her cheek, fingers trembling as she gently turned Alexis’s face back toward her own. “You’re not a copy,” she said, fierce and unwavering. “You’re Alexis'Shepard. You’re the woman who made me laugh in the quiet hours between missions. The woman who held me when I was scared. The one I grieved for. You are still you.”

Alexis trembled, the words like balm and blade both.

They undressed quietly, reverently. Alexis moved slowly, shedding her remaining armour with Tali’s help, layer by layer until it was just her and the glow of circuitry beneath her skin. She avoided looking in the mirror. Her breath hitched every time she caught sight of the soft, pulsing lights—so similar to Quarian freckles, and yet not. The implants shimmered like stars in a constellation she hadn’t chosen.

But Tali didn’t flinch. Her hands were sure and gentle as they guided Alexis into bed. When they lay down, Tali pressed into her side without hesitation, her head resting just beneath Alexis’s jaw, one hand draped across her waist while the other traced those glowing lines.

“You always glowed to me,” Tali whispered, her voice breaking with a fragile truth that reached deep into Alexis’s chest. “I used to imagine what it would be like… if you had freckles like mine. Now, when I see these… I don’t think they’re wrong. I think they’re yours. I think they’re beautiful.”

Alexis couldn’t hold back the sob that slipped out, her hands trembling as she buried her face into Tali’s hair.

“I missed you so much,” Tali whispered, her voice shaking now. “Every day. For two years, I woke up hoping it had been a dream. That I’d see your name on the comm. That I’d turn around and you’d be standing there like always. And then the silence would come back.”

Alexis clung to her, tears slipping quietly down her cheeks, her body trembling in Tali’s arms. Her grief spilled out in quiet sobs, the sounds she made—soft keens, broken, warbled Quarian vocalizations—barely felt like they came from her throat. Her breath stuttered with every shudder, the pain surfacing from depths she hadn't dared touch until now.

Tali held her tighter, her arms wrapped around Alexis with the full, fierce tenderness of someone who had nearly drowned in grief and now had a second chance. Her gloved fingers stroked gently through Alexis’s hair, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’ve got you. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Alexis’s voice was raw when it came. “I don’t even know if I’m still me. If what’s inside is the same. What if they built something that only looks like me? What if I’m not the real Alexis?”

“You’re not a shadow, Lexi,” Tali said, fierce and unwavering, cupping Alexis’s cheek as she looked into her eyes. “I would know. I’d know you in any body. In any lifetime. In any universe. I know your voice, the way your breath catches when you’re trying to be strong, the way your heart feels when I hold you like this. I know your soul.”

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Alexis’s lips, her breath trembling. “You came back to me. I don’t care what they did to your body. You are still the woman I love.”

Alexis’s breath hitched again, but this time it wasn’t grief that took her. It was a fragile, flickering warmth that filled the cracks inside her, lighting places she thought long buried. She wrapped her arms around Tali and held her close, as if the sheer force of their connection could tether her to something real.

They lay there, limbs entangled, hearts slowly syncing. Tali’s fingers traced the faint, glowing seams beneath Alexis’s skin, so gentle they might have been painting constellations into her.

“I keep thinking I’ll wake up,” Tali said quietly, her voice cracking. “That this will fade. That I’ll open my eyes and be alone again.”

“You won’t,” Alexis murmured, though she couldn’t help the hesitation. “I’m here.”

“I don’t care what they made you from,” Tali said. “They didn’t make your heart. They didn’t make the way you love, the way you fight. That’s all you. And I love you for it. I will always love you for it.”

Alexis buried her face in Tali’s shoulder, drawing in the scent of her skin, the heat of her body, the familiar rhythm of her breathing. There was no suit between them now—just skin to skin, warmth to warmth. She breathed her in like it was the first breath after drowning, anchoring herself to the living reality of Tali in her arms. Her presence, her soul—it wrapped around Alexis like gravity, like home.

And for the first time since dying, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she could be alive again.

Together, they held on, the soft glow of Alexis’s skin reflecting in Tali’s eyes, casting them both in quiet light.

~~

The halls of the Normandy SR-2 were quiet at this hour. With the hum of the ship’s systems thrumming steadily through the floors, the artificial night cycle had bathed the corridors in low, ambient light. Mari walked slowly down the steps from the captain’s quarters, her mind still adrift in everything that had happened.

Her daughter was alive.

The thought echoed again and again like a heartbeat. Alexis was alive. Changed, scarred, burdened by grief and cybernetics—but alive. And more than that, she had returned with her spirit intact, however bruised. She still carried the fire that Mari had seen in her since she was a girl, though now it was tempered by trauma and grief Mari could only imagine.

Mari’s boots made no sound as she moved, her body on instinct while her thoughts churned. She had fought to stay composed for Alexis, to be strong so her daughter didn’t have to be. But now, alone in the corridor, the weight of the past two years crept in like a chill. The years spent mourning, of wondering if her daughter’s final moments had been filled with fear and pain. The long nights spent at Tali’s side, the two of them holding onto each other in shared sorrow. The endless ache of guilt for not being there to protect her.

She paused at the bottom of the stairwell, rubbing her gloved hand across her faceplate. The warmth of Alexis’s embrace still lingered in her arms—the way she had clung to her, the sobs that had broken from a throat no longer fully human. Mari ached, but it was a strange, beautiful ache. An ache wrapped in hope.

She was alive.

Mari took a deep breath and moved on, deciding to check on the crew quarters. Most were empty or dimly lit, quiet now that the ship had settled into a rhythm. She passed a pair of doors and turned a corner when a familiar voice, dry and unmistakable, greeted her.

"Mari'Saalas, as I live and breathe."

Mari’s step slowed as her head turned, and then she smiled—really smiled—for the first time in what felt like forever. "Doctor Chakwas. Keelah, it's good to see you."

The doctor stood beside the entrance to the med bay, arms loosely crossed, her posture relaxed but as observant as ever. Her grey hair was tied back, her lab coat pristine despite the chaos of her new assignment. "And you. I should have known you'd be right back at Alexis’s side the moment she opened her eyes."

Mari stepped closer, her voice soft with something deeper than mere gratitude. "I’m just glad she had someone like you looking after her. If anyone could make sure she was treated like a person, not a project, it was you."

Chakwas’s expression softened, a shadow of weariness in her eyes. "I nearly didn’t. Cerberus contacted me when they began the Lazarus Project. Told me who they were bringing back. I didn’t even hesitate. I took leave from the Alliance and signed on. Not for them—never for them. For her."

Mari nodded, her throat tight. "I figured as much. Alexis trusts you more than any other human doctor. And after what they did to her... she needs someone who understands she’s not just some war asset."

Chakwas exhaled, the sound a quiet sigh. "She’s been through hell. I saw the records—what was left of her when they recovered her. And now... seeing her up and walking, thinking, talking—it’s a miracle. But it’s not just the physical. She’s... fractured. And it’s going to take time to heal."

Mari’s shoulders slumped slightly. "She hasn’t even begun to process it. She’s so used to holding everything in. Even with me and Tali, I can tell she’s afraid. Not of us—but of what’s been done to her. Of not being herself anymore."

Chakwas nodded solemnly. "She’s going to need time, and people who love her. People who know her."

"She has that," Mari said quietly. "She has Tali. She has me. Joker. And now she has you again. I couldn’t ask for more."

The two women stood in silence for a long moment, the hum of the med bay lights soft around them.

"Thank you," Chakwas said eventually.

Mari tilted her head. "For what?"

"For raising her to be the woman she is. Strong enough to survive everything, but still kind enough to care. Even now, surrounded by Cerberus and unsure of her own body, she still puts everyone else first. She’s trying to lead, trying to protect. It’s who she is."

Mari chuckled softly, her voice hitching. "She gets that from her human side. The stubbornness, though—that’s all me."

Chakwas smiled, reaching out to gently rest a hand on Mari’s shoulder. "She’s lucky to have you. We all are. And I’m glad she’s not alone on this ship. Cerberus may have brought her back, but they don’t own her—not her soul. With you and Tali at her side... I think she has a chance."

Mari’s voice was soft, cracking just slightly. "No... I’m the lucky one. I got my daughter back. And I’m not letting anyone take her away again."

The two women stood there a moment longer, sharing a quiet bond between those who truly loved Alexis’Shepard—not as a soldier, not as a Spectre, but as a person. A daughter. A friend. A soul still finding its way back.

And in the silence of the Normandy’s decks, that love was a shield stronger than any armor Cerberus could forge.

Chapter 22: XXII

Summary:

Arrival at the Citadel and new armour assembled.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The cockpit of the Normandy SR-2 was calm, the stars stretching endlessly ahead as the ship cruised smoothly through the black. In the pilot's seat, Joker’s fingers danced across the controls with a practiced ease, his posture relaxed but alert. The faint hum of the ship’s engines formed a familiar backdrop, a comforting note of continuity in a galaxy that felt like it had shifted under their feet.

Alexis stood just behind him, her arms crossed loosely over her chestplate. Her helmet remained sealed, the dark visor hiding the Quarian-modified glow of her eyes and the faint, almost hidden seams of cybernetic reconstruction along her jaw. The light from the forward viewport shimmered faintly against the glossy surface of her visor as she stared out at the approaching Citadel—still distant but unmistakable, its great arms slowly rotating, bathed in soft station-light. It felt surreal, standing here once again, so soon after being torn from death itself.

It had only been a few days since she had woken up. A few days since she clawed her way back from death into a world that didn’t make sense. And now, she stood on the bridge of a ship bearing the name and silhouette of her old home— Normandy —but changed, larger, unfamiliar in ways that poked at the edges of grief and memory.

She could feel Tali beside her before she saw her. Her bondmate stood close enough that their arms brushed, the subtle warmth of her suit a quiet anchor in the drifting sea of Alexis’s thoughts. Her presence was steady, grounding. Mari stood on her other side, arms behind her back in that old soldier’s stance that never left her, even in moments of stillness. Together, the three of them watched as the Citadel grew closer.

"We're coming up on the Citadel now," Joker said over his shoulder, glancing back just long enough to shoot Alexis a quick smile. "Try not to crash the diplomatic process before we even dock, Commander."

Alexis smirked faintly, her voice filtered through the soft modulator of her Quarian-style helmet. "No promises."

Her armour still felt wrong.

The suit Cerberus had given her fit well enough by standard metrics, but it wasn’t hers. It didn’t move with her body like it used to. The interior didn't respond quite right to her micro-gestures, and the HUD overlays were clinical and unfamiliar. Worse, it lacked the subtle modifications she had spent years integrating—from the comfort linings adapted to her Quarian physiology, to the borrowed tech she and Tali had fused into the system for efficiency and identity. It felt sterile. It felt like a stranger’s skin.

"We transferred as many of your old subroutines and HUD overlays as we could," Tali said gently, her voice crackling softly through her helmet’s comms. "Some of your emergency protocols too. It’ll help until we can properly overhaul it."

"It already feels better," Alexis admitted after a moment. "Not... me yet. But closer."

Mari glanced over, her eyes sharp behind her visor, the way they always were when she was planning something. "I’ll get you there. Got a plan. Once we dock, you’ll have a suit that fits you again—all three layers. You’ll feel like yourself, Lexi. Quarian-made, from your skin to your bones."

Alexis said nothing at first, just nodded. That word— yourself —echoed in her mind with a thousand sharp edges. The truth was, she wasn’t sure who herself was anymore. But having Tali and Mari beside her made the question hurt a little less.

Still, the presence of the two people she trusted most in the galaxy at her side dulled the ache. Tali’s hand brushed hers in the quiet, their gloves pressing together in a moment of subtle intimacy. She didn’t differentiate between Alexis’s hands anymore—one synthetic, one flesh—they were simply hers. A silent reminder that whatever else had changed, love hadn’t.

Ahead of them, the Citadel loomed larger and larger, filling the viewport with its ringed majesty. For Alexis, it felt like returning to the stage where everything began—and where it was about to begin again. She didn’t know what she would find there, or how the Council would react to her reappearance. But with the woman she loved and the mother who raised her at her sides, she knew one thing for certain:

She wasn’t alone.

~

The docking clamps hissed and locked with a low metallic thud, reverberating faintly through the hull of the Normandy SR-2. The gentle shift of gravity stabilisers hummed as the ship settled against the berth in one of the Citadel’s more discreet docking bays—an area clearly reserved for unregistered or sensitive visitors. The gangway extended with a mechanical sigh, connecting the ship to the polished steel platform beyond.

Alexis stood just beyond the airlock, helmet sealed, the crimson sheen of her Quarian-styled armour catching the filtered station lights. At her sides stood Tali and Mari, the three forming a tight formation of mutual protection and quiet resolve.

Behind them, Miranda and Jacob waited with the rest of the Cerberus personnel. Miranda gave a nod, but Alexis didn’t return it. She had no intention of parading Cerberus through the Citadel—not yet. Not when trust was a currency they hadn't earned.

"We'll handle this alone," Alexis said coolly, her voice clipped through the comms as she stepped through the hatch.

The Citadel was as vast and gleaming as Alexis remembered, but the addition of new security checkpoints was immediately evident. As she, Tali, and Mari stepped onto the gently curving walkway that led through the docks, dozens of new security stations stood like sentinels along the path, C-Sec officers scanning arrivals with practiced precision.

Mari leaned toward her, voice low. "They started setting these up after the Saren incident. Too many people slipped through cracks back then."

Alexis nodded slightly, the sound of the checkpoint scanners humming louder as they approached. The line moved briskly, the occasional beep of success or error echoing off the polished walls. When they stepped up to the console, the Turian officer at the station gave a polite nod and gestured to Alexis.

"Please stand still for a moment. Just a standard scan."

Alexis did as instructed, the scanner sweeping from her boots to the top of her helmet. For Tali and Mari, it had taken less than a second. But as the scanner passed over Alexis, it let out a loud, confused beep followed by an odd warble.

The Turian frowned and tapped the screen. "Huh. That’s... strange. Just a moment."

He read through the screen, mandibles twitching in confusion. "Commander Shepard... this is odd. The system is showing a fatality status linked to your biometrics. Says you're deceased."

Mari muttered under her breath in Khelish. Tali’s hand found Alexis’s, squeezing tightly.

The Turian’s eyes widened slightly as more information populated. "Wait... there’s another ID associated. A civilian record. Lexi'Saalas nar Mindoir. Registered as Quarian-hybrid. And it’s saying you’re... both."

Alexis felt the sting of unwanted attention as a few heads nearby turned at the strange news. Her body stiffened, but her voice remained calm. "Is there a commander or officer we can speak to about this?"

The Turian nodded quickly. "Yes, of course. Commander Bailey is on duty. Just around the corner. I’ll notify him you're on the way. Sorry for the confusion."

They made their way past the checkpoint, Alexis walking a touch faster than usual, the echo of the scanner’s confused chirp still fresh in her ears. Her gloved hands flexed slightly at her sides, betraying the tension riding just beneath the surface. Mari and Tali kept close, Tali brushing her fingers lightly against the back of Alexis’s hand in silent support.

Around the bend, they found a familiar face waiting. Captain Bailey stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest, posture firm and eyes sharp. At first, his expression held a skeptical squint, but when his gaze settled on Alexis, his brow lifted. Surprise flickered into recognition, and then, perhaps, something softer.

"Well, damn," Bailey muttered, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. "Thought I was seeing ghosts when they said Shepard flagged a scan. You really back?"

"Looks like it," Alexis replied, her voice low and dry beneath the filters of her helmet, but the exhaustion couldn’t mask the hint of dry humor.

Bailey stepped forward, pulling out his datapad, his fingers tapping rapidly across the screen. "System flagged you as deceased, no surprise there, but it also dug up a civilian ID—Lexi'Saalas. It’s got you registered as Quarian-hybrid, no affiliation with the Alliance past Mindoir. You want me to clean this up? Reinstate your Alliance record officially?"

Alexis’s helmet tilted slightly as she paused. A slow breath rattled through her chest. It would be easy to say yes. Easier still to pretend like nothing had changed. But too much had.

"No," she said at last, each syllable calm but firm. "Leave the Alliance record marked as deceased. Just set Lexi'Saalas as the primary profile. I don't want any more flags like that."

Bailey studied her closely, then nodded with understanding. "Alright. Your call. Honestly? You always were more Quarian than Human anyway, if I remember right."

He gave a dry chuckle, lips quirking up. "You know I was one of the officers who was there when you broke that C-Sec guy’s nose, right?"

Alexis gave a faint huff of amusement, the memory surfacing briefly despite the weight of the moment. "He had it coming."

"Damn right he did," Bailey said with a smirk, thumbs flying over the datapad. "Alright. Records updated. You're officially Lexi'Saalas now. Try not to punch any more officers today, yeah?"

"No promises," Alexis said smoothly, turning away. Tali and Mari fell into step beside her without a word, their presence steadying. As they moved deeper into the station, Alexis allowed herself a breath. One less ghost haunting her.

As the trio left the security checkpoint behind, the crowds thinned slightly, and the wide, open space of the Citadel's docking ring gave way to cleaner corridors and soft glows from overhead lights. The air felt a little warmer here, the lighting less harsh than the sterile brilliance of the docks. The low murmur of conversation, the faint hum of tram lines in the distance, and the soft tapping of boots on polished flooring gave the space a sense of calm that Alexis hadn’t realized she’d missed until now.

Mari turned to glance down a side hallway lined with personal cargo lockers and secured delivery areas. She adjusted the strap of a duffel bag she’d carried off the Normandy earlier, glancing toward the other two.

"I need to split off for a bit," she said, looking between Tali and Alexis. "Some of our gear got rerouted here. I had a few things shipped ahead for both of us—spares, modifications, just in case. Shouldn’t take long."

Alexis tilted her helmet slightly in curiosity, her head cocking with a soft mechanical whir from her suit. "You planned all that in advance?"

Mari gave a faint chuckle, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "You think I’d let you walk around with mismatched armor seams and a suit that doesn’t even fit properly? Please, child. Give me some credit. You were raised better than that. Let me work."

Alexis let out a breath that could almost be mistaken for a laugh and nodded once. "Alright. We'll head toward the Presidium. Meet us there?"

"Of course," Mari replied, squeezing her daughter’s arm lightly before turning to Tali. "Try to keep her out of trouble. And don’t let her wander into any diplomatic meetings by accident."

"No promises," Tali said, a playful lilt in her voice.

With a parting smile, Mari disappeared into the hallway, boots soft against the deck as she moved with the practiced ease of someone who had spent decades navigating stations like this.

Left alone, Alexis reached out and gently took Tali’s gloved hand in hers. Their fingers twined together with ease, the touch grounding in a way few things could be. Alexis held it for a moment, thumb brushing softly over Tali’s knuckles through the material. The motion was instinctual, yet it felt like a declaration.

They began walking, the bustle of the docking level giving way to quieter hallways lined with smooth walls, embedded lighting, and occasional display panels flickering with Citadel announcements. The hallway arched gracefully toward one of the transport lifts, its doors glowing a faint blue.

The Citadel was much the same—elegant, grand, full of quiet power—but to Alexis, the sheen felt thinner now. Maybe it was her new perspective, maybe it was the shadow of Cerberus at her back. Or maybe it was the lingering disconnect of having been dead for two years and brought back without her consent.

Tali glanced over at her as they walked, her voice gentle. "You okay?"

Alexis hesitated before answering, her helmet turning slightly toward the large viewport to their right. The curve of the station’s arms arced above them, stars twinkling beyond the transparent wall.

"Getting there," she said at last. "One step at a time."

Tali smiled behind her visor, her grip tightening just slightly. "Then let’s take this one together."

As they reached the lift, Alexis gestured for Tali to enter first. The soft hiss of the doors sliding open welcomed them into the quiet, rounded compartment. Together, hand in hand, they stepped inside. The doors closed behind them with a soft chime, and the lift began its smooth ascent toward the glowing archways and tranquil gardens of the Presidium.

They stood in companionable silence, the only sounds the faint hum of the lift and the quiet breaths exchanged between them. In this moment, it wasn’t about war or politics or survival—it was about them. Two souls walking forward together, one step at a time, leaving behind the weight of the past if only for a little while.

~

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the pristine, almost too-clean halls of the Presidium. Alexis stepped out first, her helmet reflecting the soft ambient lights above. Tali followed closely, their hands still loosely linked, reluctant to break the contact even for propriety's sake. This part of the Citadel felt like walking through a dream compared to the chaos they'd seen at Freedom's Progress. Curved walkways lined with delicate flora framed the open spaces. Waterfalls trickled in the distance, engineered to sound like peace.

But Alexis felt none of that peace.

The entrance to the Human embassy loomed ahead, a pair of guards nodding them through without question. They recognized her. Whether it was from memory or whispered rumor, she couldn’t tell. As they stepped inside, a young aide waved them toward a closed chamber just ahead.

"Ambassador Anderson is currently in session with the Council, but he asked that you wait just inside. They expected you," the aide said quietly.

Alexis exchanged a glance with Tali, then stepped forward. The chamber doors hissed open, and the soft, echoing voices of the Council filtered through the space as Alexis and Tali entered, coming to a respectful stop just behind Anderson's shoulder. He glanced back and gave Alexis a nod of acknowledgement before refocusing on the holographic Councilors hovering above their respective platforms.

"Commander Shepard," said Tevos, the Asari Councilor, her voice even and unreadable. "Or is it simply Alexis Shepard now? There are... conflicting reports."

"We’ve been hearing whispers, Commander," added the Turian Councilor, Sparatus, his mandibles flexing with distaste. "That you’ve returned. From the dead. And you’re working with Cerberus."

Alexis met their gazes without flinching. "I came back because someone had to do something. Entire colonies are being taken. People are vanishing."

"Human colonies," Udina interjected, half-defensive, half-triumphant, as though trying to steer the conversation toward something politically safer.

"Regardless," Tevos said, folding her hands with an air of weary diplomacy. "You’re asking to be reinstated as a SPECTRE. We would like to know your reasons."

Alexis straightened slightly, her voice steady beneath the helmet's filter. "Because I have the experience, the knowledge, and the will to act when others won't. Entire colonies are vanishing without a trace. And while the galaxy debates definitions and jurisdiction, people are being taken. I stopped Saren. I stopped Sovereign. Because no one else would."

"Saren and the Geth," Sparatus snapped with a dismissive flick of his mandibles. "There remains no substantial evidence that this 'Reaper' myth was anything more than an excuse to rally chaos."

Alexis's jaw clenched beneath her helmet. Her fingers twitched slightly at her side. "You think I made it up? That it was a dream or some trick of Geth programming? I saw it. I fought it. And now I’m back because they’re not done. Believe what you want. But if you keep pretending this threat isn’t real, you're paving the way for our extinction."

There was a long silence, the Councilors exchanging looks.

"Very well," Tevos said at last. "We will grant your reinstatement as a SPECTRE. But under condition. You are to restrict your operations to the Terminus Systems. Your association with Cerberus makes unrestricted movement through Council space... politically untenable."

Alexis exhaled slowly, knowing it was a compromise. But a SPECTRE with reach in the Terminus was better than no SPECTRE at all.

"Accepted," she said. "I’ll work where I’m needed."

The Councilors nodded, and their holograms flickered out one by one.

Anderson turned toward her, his face tired but proud. "Good to have you back, Shepard. It hasn’t been the same without you."

Alexis turned to glance at Tali, whose hand tightened briefly around hers.

"It’s good to be back," Alexis replied, though the words tasted strange. It wasn’t really home. But it was the start of something again.

As the last flicker of the Council's holograms vanished from the chamber, a heavy silence settled in the room. Alexis let out a long breath, steadying herself. She didn’t feel victorious. She felt exhausted.

Udina's voice broke the stillness like a slap. "Anderson, when you're finished playing soldier with Shepard, I want you in my office. Now."

He didn’t wait for a reply. His scowl carved deep lines in his face as he turned on his heel and left through the main embassy doors, his anger clinging to the air like static. Alexis watched him go, her visor hiding the raised eyebrow she shot toward Anderson.

"Someone’s upset," she muttered.

Anderson sighed, shaking his head. "He didn’t know I arranged this meeting until a few hours ago. Tried to cancel it, even. But I pulled rank. Sometimes that still counts for something."

Alexis took a step closer, her body language finally starting to loosen. "Thanks for that. Really."

Anderson gave her a long look, the kind a soldier gives another when words won’t cut it. "You're here. In one piece. That’s what matters."

"Depends on the piece," she said softly, the joke brittle. "But yeah. I'm... still standing."

He nodded, glancing at Tali briefly before turning his full attention back to Alexis. "I won't pretend it hasn't been rough. After the Normandy went down, everything fell apart. Some of us fought to keep the truth alive, about what we saw, what you stopped. But they buried it. Said Saren was a rogue agent. That the Geth were just acting on their own."

"And the Reapers?" Alexis asked, already knowing the answer.

"A myth. A misinterpretation. The Council didn’t want to believe, so they didn’t. And once you were gone, there weren’t many left willing to keep pushing. But I didn’t stop. I kept trying to convince them. Tried to get more surveillance in the outer colonies, pushed for investigations. Most of it got stonewalled."

Alexis clenched her fists for a moment, her gauntlets groaning softly. "So they just let people disappear."

"Not all of them. Some believe. Quietly. But without you, Shepard... there wasn’t a rallying point. Now maybe there is."

She didn’t reply right away. The idea that the galaxy needed her as its linchpin sat heavily on her shoulders. But the thought that Anderson had never stopped fighting gave her something to hold onto.

"It means a lot, knowing you kept going," she finally said. "That someone still believed."

"You gave us something to believe in," he said simply. "Now go make it count."

She nodded once. Then, almost as an afterthought, she reached out and clasped his shoulder. He gave a small smile before turning to leave, heading for Udina's office with the gait of a man preparing for another battle.

Leaving the embassy, Alexis stepped out into the open light of the Presidium once more. The artificial sky arched above her like a painted memory, and the sound of distant waterfalls trickled along manicured gardens and marble walkways. The air smelled faintly of sterile flora and faint ozone—like nature filtered through the hands of engineers. She exhaled slowly, letting the diplomatic tension bleed off her shoulders as she stepped into the open.

Her fingers danced across her omni-tool, the interface flickering to life in warm orange light. Tali moved close beside her, the soft hum of her suit harmonising with the gentle buzz of Alexis’s omni-tool. Alexis navigated to her reinstated SPECTRE access, and for a moment, her hand paused in the air. The familiar interface felt like a ghost touching her—authority and power returned in the blink of an eye. Her breath hitched as the classified authorisations and requisition menus loaded, lighting her screen like a long-lost inheritance finally returned.

A subtle but visceral reminder of who she was again.

"We’ll need to restock everything. Cerberus got us flying, but they didn’t exactly outfit us like a proper military vessel," Alexis muttered, more to herself than to Tali. Her voice was quiet, but there was an edge of steel beneath it.

With methodical precision, she began selecting upgraded medical supplies, high-quality rations compatible with both human and Quarian diets, field-grade engineering kits, modular combat gear, weapon tuning components, and a pair of advanced sensor modules for long-range scans. The ship wasn’t just a tool—it was a lifeline. If they were going after the Collectors, it needed to be ready for anything.

Tali leaned in slightly, her head tilting as she watched Alexis work. "Are you sure they’ll approve it all so fast? That’s a lot of gear."

Alexis gave a soft snort, her fingers swiping through menus with fluid confidence. "They will now. SPECTRE priority clearance overrides most supply delays. And if they don’t… I’ll make them."

Tali chuckled, the sound warm despite the filter of her helmet. Alexis finished the requisition list with a final swipe, sending the orders into the Citadel’s logistics systems. A soft ping sounded almost immediately—confirmation of dispatch. Deliveries would be prepped and routed to Dock 17 by the hour.

They continued down the curved walkways of the Presidium, past carefully tended flowerbeds, small flocks of artificial birds perched on rails, and water features designed to soothe. But for all the engineered serenity, Alexis felt the world like static against her nerves—too calm, too pristine, too distant from the firefights and scars of the galaxy’s edge.

Then her eyes caught a familiar silhouette in the crowd ahead.

Mari’Saalas.

She stood with arms crossed, leaning against a railing overlooking one of the expansive gardens. Light from the Presidium’s sky dome caught on the curved glass of her helmet, painting her silhouette with soft halos. Her posture was relaxed, but there was a tension in the line of her shoulders—a soldier’s alertness that never truly left. At her feet sat two compact containers marked with shipping codes from the Migrant Fleet and Citadel customs, neatly stacked and clearly heavy.

Mari turned as they approached, her posture softening when her eyes landed on Alexis and Tali.

"I see the Council didn’t throw you out," she said, her voice dry with a note of amused sarcasm.

"They tried," Alexis replied with a smirk hidden beneath her helmet. "But I smiled really politely and promised to only cause trouble in the Terminus Systems. They liked that."

Mari gave a low chuckle, her hand briefly resting on the top crate. "These just arrived. Supplies I had shipped ahead. There’s some custom parts for your armour refit, and a few upgrades for your omni-tool and the cybernetics. Once we’ve got the time, we’ll get you back to something that feels more like your gear—not what Cerberus slapped together."

Alexis’s throat tightened. The idea of something familiar, something Quarian-built and lovingly patched in by her mother, meant more than she could say. Her suit was the last expression of identity she had left—a second skin forged over years of memory and purpose. What she wore now felt like a stranger’s armor.

"Thanks, Mum," she said softly, the word carrying more weight than usual.

Mari looked at her for a long moment, then stepped forward and rested a gloved hand on her shoulder. "Come on. Let’s get this back to the Normandy. We’ve got work to do—and I want to see the look on Joker’s face when he realises we just upgraded half the ship from three cargo crates."

Tali laughed at that, her hand slipping into Alexis’s again. Together, the three of them gathered the crates and began the walk back, shadows long behind them beneath the artificial sky.

~~

Back aboard the Normandy, the soft thrum of the ship's drive core was a subtle comfort beneath Alexis's boots. While Mari disappeared into the captain's quarters with the cases she had brought—spreading out tools, exo-suit components, and patch cables across the modular work table—Alexis made her way down to the medical bay with Tali at her side.

Dr. Chakwas was already waiting, her hands folded neatly behind her back and a tablet in one hand. Her expression was composed as ever, but the moment her eyes landed on Alexis, something softened in her gaze.

"Commander," she greeted with a warmth reserved for old friends. "It’s good to see you again. Let’s get this check-up underway. I’d like to get a full scan to ensure nothing is degrading or destabilising. We haven’t had a quiet moment since you woke up."

Alexis gave a faint nod, her voice low and husky. "Thanks, Doctor. I know it's overdue."

Tali helped Alexis out of her outer armour layer with practiced ease, her fingers brushing over the suit’s seals with a tenderness that made Alexis's chest ache. The gesture was so familiar, so gently reverent, that Alexis felt herself start to relax for the first time since they'd left the Citadel. Tali lingered near even once the scan began, never stepping far from her side—her presence grounding Alexis in a way little else could.

The scan arms whirred to life with a soft, mechanical hum, projecting concentric rings of blue light that swept over Alexis’s body in measured intervals. Each pulse made Alexis’s muscles twitch, a tension that curled deep in her abdomen. The soft chime of each scan result was a cruel echo of the changes she could feel inside her—cold metal where there used to be warmth, synthetic hum where there once was silence.

Her fingers twitched in Tali’s hand, and Tali squeezed back without hesitation.

"Your cybernetics have integrated better than expected," Chakwas said after several moments of silence. She tapped through the readings on her tablet, her brows furrowing slightly. "There are elevated signs of neural strain and residual inflammation—consistent with extreme stress and insufficient rest. But structurally, your systems are stable."

Alexis nodded faintly, though her breath caught. Hearing the word "systems" in place of "body" sent a fresh wave of unease through her.

Alexis gave a hollow laugh. "Not like I had time to take it easy."

Chakwas didn't argue. Instead, she stepped closer, her tone turning more personal. "I want you to know—when Cerberus contacted me about the Lazarus Project, I only agreed because it was you. I'm not on their payroll. Technically, I’m still on Alliance leave. But I couldn’t let them bring you back without someone here who actually cared."

Alexis looked away, jaw tight behind her helmet. "I… thank you, Doctor. That means more than I can say."

"We’re all going to be watching each other’s backs on this ship," Chakwas said, her voice soft. "But I’m especially glad you have Tali and Mari. You’re not doing this alone."

Tali squeezed Alexis’s hand again, her voice a quiet whisper meant only for her. "Never again."

Alexis nodded, blinking hard behind her visor. "Yeah. Never again."

When the scan finally concluded, Chakwas reviewed the data one last time, her brows furrowing in thought before she gave a slow nod and stepped back. "All done. You’re officially cleared for duty—but do me a favour and take care of yourself, Commander. No more skipping rest because the galaxy needs saving."

Alexis slid off the table with a soft hiss of the air-tight seal releasing from her back panel, her cybernetic limbs responding with near-silent precision. She winced faintly, not from pain but from the alien sensation that still accompanied every artificial motion. Wordlessly, she pulled her arm back into the sleeve of her undersuit, the fabric settling awkwardly over metal instead of skin.

"I’ll try," she muttered, voice low. "Can’t promise anything."

Tali chuckled, the sound filled with gentle affection. "She’ll try harder if we remind her."

Chakwas smiled, a rare warmth lighting her face. "Then it’s a good thing she’s got you."

The three of them exited the med bay together, the doors whispering shut behind them. Alexis moved with a little more weight in her step, but also a little more clarity. Each stride was still unfamiliar in some ways, her body humming quietly with energy that wasn’t hers, but the warmth of her mother and Tali close by tempered the cold. There was still a storm to weather, still fire on the horizon—but for the first time since opening her eyes in that Cerberus facility, Alexis felt a little more like herself.

Like maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t lost after all.

The door to the captain's quarters hissed open with a soft chime as Alexis stepped inside, Tali following close behind. The room, larger and more refined than the SR-1's utilitarian space, had been quickly transformed into something far more personal. The table near the far wall was covered in carefully arranged components, tools, and rolls of flexible armour mesh. Several of the crates Alexis had requisitioned through her SPECTRE access were already opened, their contents sorted with the same precision Mari had taught her years ago.

Mari looked up from where she was crouched beside the workbench, her hands currently sorting through a selection of exo-suit plating. The soft glow from the omni-tool she wore cast golden light across her face—unobstructed by a helmet, which she had set aside on a nearby chair. In the clean, environmentally sealed space of the captain’s quarters, she had taken full advantage of the safety it offered. Her soft bioluminescent freckles traced gentle patterns down her cheeks and across her brow, glowing faintly in the quiet room as if echoing the comforting familiarity of home. Her silver-black hair had been pulled back into a tidy braid that fell down her back, and her exposed skin—dusky and marked with the wear of years—was more at peace here than Alexis had seen since their reunion. It was the rare moment of calm in a galaxy at war, and Mari wore it like armour of a different kind: serenity, pride, and love for the daughter she had found again. had allowed herself the rare comfort of bare skin and fresh air. She rose to her feet, wiping her palms on the thighs of her suit, then stepped around the table to approach them.

"You're back just in time," Mari said softly. "I was just about to call you."

Alexis could see the progress already being made on the new armour spread out on the table. The design was unmistakably hers—sleek and efficient, the hybrid of N7 and Quarian design with lines that spoke of function and familiarity. The curvature of the plating, the subtle reinforcement where she’d always needed extra support, the faint violet gleam of energy conductivity tracers—it was all there. It wasn’t just armour. It was hers .

But Mari didn’t stop there.

With the same deliberate care she gave to assembling a rifle or maintaining a suit’s filtration system, Mari reached down and lifted something folded with reverence: a Quarian shawl. She handled it with both pride and a kind of sacred reverence, the movement one of deep emotion and ritual.

Alexis inhaled sharply, stepping forward instinctively as Mari unfolded it. The fabric shimmered faintly under the ambient lighting, black with deep crimson and violet accents embroidered into it. The thread caught the light as if it were woven with starlight, tracing designs that were unmistakably Quarian—swirling lines that evoked stars and family, safety and memory. Shapes of the homeworld lost, the protective grace of the Fleet, and the branching motif of one’s journey. The symbol of their shared household was stitched just below the shoulder seam, nestled close to a new series of glyphs that represented Alexis’s name and heritage, fully integrated and complete.

It wasn’t simply a garment. It was a legacy—one crafted and mended across generations. A living testament to love, identity, and belonging.

"I couldn’t bring myself to finish it after the Normandy was destroyed," Mari said softly, her voice carrying the weight of two years of sorrow. "Tali and I worked on it together, sometimes late at night when we couldn’t sleep. It made us feel closer to you... like maybe you were still out there. Like you’d come back, and we could show you we never gave up."

Alexis’s breath caught, her eyes fixed on the shawl with a kind of reverence. Her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch the edge of the fabric, tracing one of the embroidered curves that gleamed under the room’s lighting.

"I never got to finish mine either," Alexis whispered. "I was waiting to be with you again. I always thought—I always hoped—that when we had time together again, we’d finish it together."

Mari nodded gently, her voice steady. "And now we can. Together. The way it was always meant to be." She stepped forward and carefully placed the shawl in Alexis’s hands.

The fabric was soft but firm, worn with the same comforting feel of the one she had worn before. Alexis held it against her chest like a lifeline, something solid and real amidst the swirl of metal and uncertainty in her skin.

"You’re still my daughter, Alexis'Shepard," Mari said, voice stronger now. "This proves it. Nothing Cerberus did can change that."

Tali stepped up beside her, gently placing a hand on Alexis’s arm. "We never doubted who you are. Not for a second."

Alexis couldn’t stop the sound that escaped her—a trembling, choked breath that twisted into a sob. She held the shawl tight, burying her face in it as if she could soak in the warmth of everything it represented. Family. Love. Acceptance.

Mari wrapped her arms around her, and Tali joined her, the three of them standing there, silent except for Alexis’s quiet sobs.

For all the fire and pain she had endured, all the battles ahead still to come, this moment was a sanctuary—a soft place to fall, stitched from memory and stitched from love.

The captain's quarters were quieter now, the hum of the Normandy's systems a gentle background lullaby. The three of them had settled around the table, tools and armour components spread out in an organised sprawl that only Quarians could manage. Mari worked with quiet precision, her practiced hands already beginning the adjustments to the exo-suit’s spine bracket, while Alexis and Tali sat side-by-side, sorting through thermal mesh layers and alloyed plating.

Alexis, her breathing steadier now and the heavy storm of earlier emotions calmed into something warm and quiet, kept glancing at the shawl folded beside her. She reached for it again, unable to resist the pull. Her gloved fingers ran gently along the rich threads of embroidery, following the familiar glyphs and patterns, but now her gaze stopped on something she hadn’t noticed before.

Her fingers paused.

Near the base of the shoulder glyphs—carefully stitched in subtle bioluminescent thread that glowed only under the right light—was another set of markings. Symbols of union. Of bond. Of trust.

Of love.

Tali’s.

Alexis blinked and looked up, her eyes going straight to Tali.

Tali, who had just been laying out the calibration matrix for the joint seals, paused. She followed Alexis’s gaze, then glanced at the shawl. The moment she realised what Alexis had seen, her posture shifted. Shoulders hunched slightly, her hands froze, and the violet in her eyes went wide with nervous energy.

"Oh, I—um—I meant to tell you—well, I didn’t know if it was too soon to—" Tali stammered, her voice suddenly small and uncertain, "I started it while we were working on it… with Mari. I didn’t know if we’d ever get to give it to you and then—"

Alexis reached over and silenced her gently with a kiss. It was soft, tender, and wordless, full of understanding.

When they parted, Alexis rested her forehead lightly against Tali’s helmet. Her voice, when she spoke, was thick with emotion. “I love it. And if you’ll have it, Tali… I’d be honoured to add my mark to yours. To your shawl.”

Tali blinked again, then let out a shaky breath that turned into a soft, joyful laugh. Her gloved hands found Alexis’s, squeezing them tightly.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she whispered.

Mari, who had been politely ignoring the moment with the grace only a mother could master, finally looked up with a smirk and warm eyes. “We can set some thread aside for you both. I’ve got the patterns ready when you are.”

The moment hung there—gentle, warm, and solid. A promise of shared futures stitched with the same care as the armour they were rebuilding together. As Alexis looked between her mother and her bondmate, she knew: for all that had been taken from her, this was something Cerberus couldn’t touch.

This—this love, this family—was entirely hers.

The quiet hum of the Normandy’s engines vibrated gently through the deck plating, the familiar rhythm now subtly different in tone since departing the Citadel. Omega loomed ahead like a storm on the horizon, but for the moment, in the safety of the Captain’s quarters, Alexis, Tali, and Mari sat around the disassembled components of Alexis’s armour. None of them wore helmets in the sealed space—their bare faces open to one another in a shared sense of comfort and trust that had been so rare these past years.

Most of the major work on the armour had been completed—plating adjusted for her now-changed musculature, internal systems re-calibrated and integrated more seamlessly into her suit. Tali and Mari had worked tirelessly, drawing on years of experience and love, replacing pieces Cerberus had hastily jammed into place. They still had a list of adjustments to make, but the urgency of those first repairs had passed, and now the pace had slowed into something steady and familiar.

Alexis leaned back against the couch, her undersuit snug against her body, concealing the smooth lines of synthetic material beneath her skin. She looked down at her right arm, fingers flexing slowly beneath the fabric. Even through the insulating layers, she could feel it—that strange mix of sensation and artificial resistance. The neural connections were perfect. Too perfect. It moved as if it had always been hers, and that was what disturbed her the most.

She turned slightly, gaze lingering on Tali, who sat nearby adjusting one of the shielding nodes they had salvaged from her requisitions. Tali glanced up, violet eyes wide and unfiltered by any helmet, meeting Alexis’s with quiet concern and warmth. There was still a faint shimmer in those eyes—one part relief, one part awe—at simply being here, sharing this room, touching Alexis again.

"Tali," Alexis said quietly, voice raw. "I... I want to ask you something."

Tali paused, setting the component down. Her fingers stilled, and she leaned forward slightly, instinctively attentive. "Of course. Anything."

Alexis hesitated, her hands curling slightly into fists. Her expression twisted in a mix of resolve and vulnerability. "You’re the best with tech I know. Especially when it comes to Geth systems and anything synthetic. I need someone I trust. Someone who understands it. I need you to look at my cybernetics. Access what’s been done to me. I need to know everything."

Tali’s breath caught. Her bare expression turned serious, brows furrowing with uncertainty and fear. "Alexis... are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you. Or—Keelah—forgive me, trigger something Cerberus might’ve buried. You don’t know what they might have done."

Alexis gave a small, sad smile, brushing her fingertips over the side of Tali’s hand. "You won’t. I trust you. More than anyone. If there’s anyone in the galaxy I’d let do this, it’s you. I need this, Tali. I need to know what they’ve made me into. And I need to know I’m still me."

Tali was quiet for a long moment, her fingers twitching in thought. She glanced briefly at Mari, who gave her a supportive nod, then returned her gaze to Alexis. She took a deep breath. "Okay. Then we do this right. I’ll access your systems through the omni-link handshake. You’ll have to lower the encryption blocks and grant me root permissions—same as I’d need for full diagnostic access to your suit."

Alexis nodded, her omni-tool already activating with a flicker of light. Her HUD pinged twice, a soft chime sounding as Tali’s omni-tool synced with hers. Alexis hesitated for a heartbeat, her thumb hovering over the final authorisation prompt—then tapped it. With a deep breath, she lowered the final security flags, handing Tali complete administrative access.

Tali’s omni-tool interface lit up with cascading code, glowing symbols and readouts painting the air between them as the system unfolded. Cybernetic lines, synthetic data threads, mechanical schematics. Systems initializing, like a map of the new framework inside Alexis's body rendered in layers of light and shadow.

Mari moved to the far side of the room, giving them quiet space, though her presence remained a grounding comfort—a silent reassurance that no matter what they discovered, Alexis wouldn’t be alone.

Tali’s voice was soft, reverent. "I’m in. Just... stay with me, okay? I’ll talk through what I find. No surprises. I promise."

Alexis closed her eyes and nodded, heart pounding with more than just anxiety. Her breathing deepened as Tali's omni-tool interface wove its way through layers of synthetic infrastructure—some eerily advanced, some unmistakably Quarian-influenced in their design, and some... disturbingly Geth.

Whatever truths lay buried in her new body, whatever pieces of metal and code Cerberus had jammed into her to bring her back, she wouldn’t face them alone. Not with Tali here. Not with Mari nearby. Not anymore.

Tali worked in concentrated silence, her brow furrowed as line after line of code scrolled across her omni-tool. The soft orange glow of the holographic interface reflected off her bare face, casting shifting patterns over her features. Her fingers moved with careful precision, gliding and flicking through strands of data with practised ease. Alexis watched her closely, nerves coiling in her stomach despite the warmth of Tali's presence and the low, steady hum of the Normandy around them.

Mari had drifted to the far end of the room, quietly tinkering with a gauntlet component she’d disassembled from Alexis’s armor, giving them space while still remaining close—ready to step in if needed. It was a quiet act of trust and consideration, one Alexis noticed with a flicker of gratitude. They were safe here. For now.

"Okay," Tali murmured, her voice soft and focused. "I'm past the Cerberus baseline and... Keelah. Alexis... there's more here. A lot more."

Alexis sat up straighter on the edge of the couch, heart thudding harder against her ribs. Her synthetic fingers curled slightly on instinct. "More?"

Tali nodded slowly, not taking her eyes off the data pulsing across her omni-tool. "Yes. There are processes running alongside your standard cybernetic OS—ones I didn’t recognize at first. They’re... Geth. Or at least Geth-derived. They’re far more advanced than what Cerberus was capable of integrating. This is something different. Refined. Purposeful."

Alexis felt her mouth go dry. "Are they... connected to anything? Are they transmitting, listening?"

Tali shook her head. "No, not at all. That was the first thing I checked. They’re completely self-contained—no external connections, no signals, no wireless links to the consensus or external servers. But... they're aware , Alexis. They’re not passive code. They're observing you, reacting to you, adapting."

"Active?" Alexis asked, her voice low. "How active?"

"They’re reading your biometrics in real-time. Neural activity, stress levels, hormone responses. But not just reading—adjusting, recalibrating in ways that are... protective. It's like they're safeguarding you from within. And—this is the strange part—when I accessed one of the deeper nodes," she pointed to a flickering strand of green and violet code, pulsing softly, "they stepped back. Like they recognized me. Or recognized that you trust me."

Alexis blinked slowly, uncertain whether to be alarmed or comforted. "They let you see them."

"They wanted me to see them," Tali whispered. "I think they’ve been waiting. Cerberus embedded some extremely invasive subroutines—code designed to monitor, override, even control certain neural commands. But those Geth processes? They’ve purged almost all of it. Cleanly. Efficiently. You’re stable because of them, Alexis. Not because of Cerberus."

Alexis’s eyes drifted downward, staring at her hands—one organic, one plated in smooth matte metal, both trembling slightly. "So what does that make me, Tali?"

Tali gently reached out and placed her hand over Alexis’s synthetic one, letting her fingers rest with deliberate care over the artificial knuckles, as though there was no difference at all. Her touch was warm and steady.

"It makes you you ," she said, her voice unwavering. "Someone the Geth recognize as one of theirs. Someone they chose to protect. And someone I love."

The quiet in the room wrapped around them like a blanket. Alexis’s throat tightened, her breath hitching in her chest. She leaned into Tali’s touch, the faint tremor in her shoulders gradually easing.

"Does this scare you?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"Only because I know it scares you ," Tali replied. "I still worry about the greater Geth consensus—about what they could do if this ever links back to them. But these fragments inside you? These... caretakers? They aren’t part of that. They aren’t hostile. They feel like guardians. Loyal. Devoted. And I'm not afraid of them. I’m not afraid of you ."

She squeezed Alexis’s hand, intertwining her fingers, synthetic and organic, the gesture both grounding and intimate. The glowing pulses beneath Alexis’s skin—those strange not-freckles—seemed to slow and soften, responding to the emotion between them.

Tali turned her attention back to the omni-tool, the light catching the tears shining faintly in her eyes. "Let me finish mapping this out. I’ll give you a full schematic of what’s in place, and I’ll keep monitoring it. But Alexis... whatever Cerberus intended to use you for? They failed. They don’t own you. They never did."

Alexis nodded, emotion tightening her chest as a flicker of warmth and hope kindled through the cold shell of her uncertainty.

She wasn’t alone in this. She never had been.

The hum of the Normandy's drive core throbbed faintly through the floor as the hours passed, the ship's subtle vibrations a constant reminder of the stars rushing past outside its hull. In the captain's quarters, a quiet sense of triumph and peace had settled after hours of focused work.

Spread across the table were the final components of Alexis's newly assembled armour. The suit gleamed with a unique finish—its design harmoniously blending Alliance military lines with the fluid curvature of Quarian aesthetics. Tali's deft touch could be seen in the elegant placement of overlays, subtle embossing that mirrored Quarian symbols of protection, resilience, and unity. Mari had installed several redundant environmental control systems, custom-rigged for Alexis's hybrid physiology. The final result was something that looked not manufactured, but crafted. Loved.

"Well," Mari said, stepping back with her hands on her hips, nodding in satisfaction. "That's the finest work I think I've ever done." Her voice was warm but tired. She gave the suit one last once-over before turning to Alexis.

Crossing the room, Mari drew close, cupping Alexis's face with both hands. "You're ready for what comes next," she said, eyes gleaming with emotion. Then she leaned in and kissed Alexis's forehead softly. "Goodnight, ras kyaan."

Then, just before she left the room, Mari paused and turned back with a mischievous smile. "Oh, and Lexi? You've always had good taste, but just so you know... you have my blessing." Her eyes flicked knowingly toward Tali. "Especially after the shawl."

Alexis blinked, a little breath caught in her throat. Tali turned a deeper shade of violet, ducking her head shyly.

Mari's grin widened, and she slipped out of the quarters with the softest of laughs, leaving the pair alone in the ambient silence.

As the door closed, Alexis and Tali turned to each other. The weight of everything—the long hours of work, the emotional rollercoaster of the last few days, the memories of pain and resurrection—settled over them like a comforting blanket. Slowly, with wordless understanding, they began to undress.

Alexis sat on the edge of the bed, her undersuit fully removed and folded neatly beside her, leaving her bare under the gentle lighting of the captain’s quarters. Her cybernetic arm was fully exposed now, the sleek synthetic plating glinting faintly in the warm, ambient glow. She lifted it, flexed the fingers, watching the artificial muscles shift with inhuman precision. The seamless engineering where metal met flesh along her shoulder and shoulder blade was both a marvel and a nightmare—elegant in construction but deeply jarring to her senses.

Her right leg mirrored the feeling: the artificial limb stretched from her foot to the middle of her thigh, covered in composite plating that looked almost too perfect. She could still feel it all—the weight, the hum of hidden servos, the faint whirring beneath her skin like a second heartbeat that wasn’t hers. With her other hand, she traced slowly along her ribcage, fingers brushing over the subtle contours of her body where synthetic systems lived under the surface. Pulses of light flickered faintly along hidden seams, like some alien imitation of Quarian freckles.

It was all her. And yet... it didn’t feel like her.

Her other hand trembled slightly as she ran it across her ribcage, feeling the hidden hum of embedded machinery under skin that was no longer entirely hers. There were subtle pulses, the tickle of servos and wires where nerves once had complete dominion. Her breath hitched, and her eyes began to sting.

Tali moved silently behind her, wrapping her arms around Alexis from behind. Her bare skin pressed gently to Alexis's back, the warmth of her body chasing away the chill that crept along Alexis’s spine. She rested her forehead between Alexis's shoulder blades, her breath ghosting soft and steady against her skin.

"Lexi..." she whispered, her voice reverent, aching.

Alexis let out a shaky breath, one hand rising to cover Tali’s where it lay against her stomach. "Sometimes I wonder if there's more machine in me than person now," she murmured. "If I look in the mirror and see a ghost wearing my skin."

Tali tightened her embrace, her arms coiling tighter around Alexis like a lifeline, as though her very presence could banish every scar the galaxy had carved into the woman she loved. "You're not a ghost. You're the brightest light in the void, Alexis'Shepard. You carried me through battles, through doubts, through everything. Now let me carry this with you. You are not broken. You are not less. You're just... you. And I love you ."

Alexis let out a trembling breath, her body softening into Tali’s hold. She leaned back with slow deliberateness, feeling the thrum of Tali’s heartbeat through the press of skin. The faint puff of breath that ghosted across her shoulder grounded her, the rhythm steady and calm. Her synthetic fingers intertwined with Tali’s, holding on like a lifeline.

They slid beneath the sheets, and the chill of the bed gave way to the encompassing warmth of another body pressed close—an anchor in a storm. Alexis felt every nuance of Tali’s presence: the soft breath across her collarbone, the warmth of her chest rising and falling in sync beside her, and the smooth stroke of fingertips trailing over the faint lights beneath her skin. Lights that pulsed softly, more like a heartbeat than circuitry. Tali’s touch lingered there, reverent and gentle, not hesitating as it traced the curved seams between metal and flesh. There was no fear, no revulsion. Only love.

A low sound, involuntary and unfamiliar, rumbled in Alexis’s chest—an instinctive Quarian purr that vibrated up from her throat. She hadn’t even meant to make it. Tali hummed in return, her voice a quiet echo of contentment. The tones were soft, musical—a dialogue without words.

As the weight of exhaustion began to settle into their bones, Tali spoke again, her voice a fragile whisper laced with tears not yet shed. "You're mine, Lexi. Every part of you. And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever."

Alexis turned her head, pressing a kiss to Tali’s brow, her lips trembling. Her voice cracked with feeling. "I love you. More than I know how to say."

"Then say it like this," Tali whispered back, curling closer. Her fingers drifted across Alexis’s cheek, brushing a lock of hair aside. "Stay with me. Let me fall asleep beside you and know that I’ll still wake up with you here. Not another dream. Not another nightmare."

Alexis’s arm pulled her closer, tighter, the press of skin and metal warm between them. Her purr returned, softer this time, as she whispered back, "I’m here, Tali. I’m not going anywhere."

The ship drifted through space in silence, and in the captain's quarters, two souls found sanctuary—not in perfection, but in each other.

Chapter 23: XXIII

Summary:

Arrival at Omega. Assisting an Archangel.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXIII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The Normandy surged forward through the drifting veil of asteroids and debris, maneuvering with elegant precision as it approached the jagged silhouette of Omega Station. Its massive ring glowed with the ever-present crimson illumination of fuel fires and flickering neon, casting eerie reflections against the Normandy's sleek hull. This place—twisted and alive with its own dark rhythm—was the kind of place most people tried to avoid. Alexis'Shepard had only been here a few times before, as a child, clinging to Mari's hand as they made their way through the grime-slick corridors and unspoken threats of the underbelly. Even then, she'd known instinctively that Omega was different—a city that breathed with the stench of desperation and opportunity in equal measure.

Mari'Saalas stood beside her daughter on the bridge, arms folded and expression tight beneath her helmet. "Omega," she muttered, her tone laced with habitual disgust. "Hive of scum and villainy, that one. Avoided it when I could, but... couldn't always stay clear. Sometimes you need to dance with filth to save lives."

Alexis didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes were locked on the screen, watching the swirl of traffic converge like vultures on the station. "Not exactly Noveria," she finally said with a wry note, though there was steel in her voice. "We won’t linger longer than we need to."

Behind them, Tali double-checked her loadout and adjusted the maglocks on her shotgun. Her gaze flicked to Alexis briefly before returning to her calibrations, the soft sound of her environmental suit syncing with Alexis’s echoing faintly through the cabin. Their suits were linked again, a shared tactical interface that let them move as one.

Mari’s suit linked in seamlessly with theirs, a family network of synced comms and shared HUD markers.

The three of them—Alexis, Mari, and Tali—were fully geared by the time the Normandy angled for its final approach. Alexis moved with ease in her new armor. The plating was tailored, its weight perfectly distributed, its design as much a statement of identity as function. It fit like home. And the moment her systems linked with her mother and Tali, it felt like an extension of herself.

She ran one final check through her weapons, her hands moving with calm precision. The N7 Valkyrie assault rifle, freshly requisitioned through her reinstated SPECTRE credentials, gleamed under the ship’s lights. Balanced, modified, and deadly accurate, it was everything she needed in mid-range engagements.

Her sidearm—an M6 Carnifex heavy pistol—was holstered at her hip, every component fine-tuned to her personal specifications. It had served her faithfully, its worn grip molded to her hand. The M23 Katana shotgun rested on her lower back, a close-quarters solution she had always favored for breaches and boarding actions.

But the centerpiece was the monstrous M-98 Widow sniper rifle slung over her shoulder, newly customized. Alexis had stripped it down and rebuilt it piece by piece, smoothing the recoil dampeners and enhancing the scope interface. It was terrifying in power—an anti-material weapon meant to destroy cover, armor, or any unlucky soul behind it. Its one-shot-per-clip design was a price she was willing to pay.

She glanced to Tali, who was carefully locking a weapon onto her back—a new M-300 Claymore shotgun. Alexis raised an eyebrow.

"That thing's supposed to be for Krogan," she said, voice amused.

Tali shrugged, her tone playful. "Then let the galaxy tremble."

Alexis laughed under her breath, shaking her head. "Keelah, remind me not to stand in front of you."

"Always have your back, not your front," Tali replied, the glint in her eyes behind her visor warming Alexis more than any heater ever could.

As Omega loomed closer, its towering silhouette casting long shadows, the trio stood together—armored, armed, and ready.

Whatever waited inside that hive of smugglers, mercs, and chaos, Alexis knew they would face it as they always did.

Together.

~

The moment the docking clamps locked and the Normandy’s airlock cycled open, Omega made itself known in scent, sound, and tension. The stale air was thick with industrial smog, tinged with the tang of recycled chemicals and unwashed bodies. The platform outside was dimly lit, the overhead lights flickering intermittently, casting shadows across rusted walkways and cluttered crates.

Alexis led the way down the ramp, Mari and Tali close on either side, their steps measured, alert. The hum of the Normandy faded behind them, replaced by the noise of Omega: voices in dozens of languages, hissing machinery, and the occasional crackle of distant gunfire.

They had barely taken ten steps when a wiry Salarian approached, his wide eyes scanning them with a practiced gleam.

"Ah, newcomers! First time on Omega? I have maps, guides, even discreet introductions to those who matter—for a reasonable fee, of course. Everything can be arranged—"

He was cut off by the heavy stomp of approaching boots. A gruff Batarian emerged from a side corridor, all four of his eyes locking on the Salarian.

"Move along, Faragut. You know better."

The Salarian's mouth opened, closed, and then he scuttled away without another word, casting one last calculating glance at the trio.

Alexis’s hand had twitched toward her pistol the moment the Batarian appeared, her instincts on high alert. She didn’t relax as he turned to face them.

"Shepard," he said with a knowing nod. "You're a hard woman to kill."

Alexis tilted her head slightly, her voice cautious. "You know me?"

"Everyone knows you. The moment your ship entered the Terminus Systems, someone was watching. Welcome to Omega. Aria would like a word."

"Aria?"

"She runs this station," the Batarian said, voice dry and unimpressed. "Keeps it from tearing itself apart. You’ll find her at Afterlife. You don’t say no to Aria."

With that, the Batarian turned and walked off, disappearing into the throng of people and flickering signage.

Alexis watched him go before glancing back at her companions. Mari's posture remained tense, one hand near her weapon. Tali gave a small shake of her head, muttering something about politics and egos.

A chime pinged in Alexis's helmet, followed by the calm voice of EDI through her internal comms.

"Commander, I am receiving multiple quarantine warnings originating from the slums of Omega. They appear to be centered around a medical clinic operated by one Dr. Mordin Solus. Additionally, intercepted communications suggest that several mercenary factions are converging to eliminate an individual known as 'Archangel.' Recruitment efforts are ongoing at a designated hub inside Afterlife."

Alexis sighed. "Looks like our to-do list just got longer."

Tali let out a soft chuckle. "Just like old times."

Mari gave a dry grunt. "Welcome back to the pit. Let's get moving before someone decides to test our reflexes."

With weapons holstered but hands never far from them, the trio advanced into the pulsing, chaotic heart of Omega.

The narrow passage from the docks widened into a cluttered thoroughfare, the flickering signage overhead casting fractured light across puddles of oil and grime. The smell of scorched metal and ozone clung to the air like smoke after a fire.

A harsh voice echoed ahead, drawing their attention. "You move again, and I put a round through your other kneecap."

Rounding the corner, Alexis, Mari, and Tali came upon a tall human mercenary with a jagged scar running down the side of his face. He stood with one foot braced on the back of a groaning Batarian, his rifle pointed lazily downward.

The man looked up, sizing Alexis up in a heartbeat. "Shepard. Zaeed Massani. Cerberus says I’m part of your team now."

Alexis gave him a sharp nod, eyes flicking between him and the wounded Batarian. "Massani. I take it you're the mercenary Cerberus mentioned."

"Damn right. Got the call while wrapping up some business. This here? Just some Blue Suns scum I caught trying to ambush freelancers coming off the docks." Zaeed gave the Batarian a none-too-gentle kick. "He’ll live. Maybe."

Tali shifted uncomfortably at the sight, while Mari's posture remained still and watchful, eyes scanning the side alleys out of habit.

"Fine. Get him dealt with, and get settled on the Normandy. Miranda will help you sort your berth."

Zaeed smirked, lifting his boot off the Batarian and slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "I assume the Illusive Man told you about our arrangement."

Alexis groaned, rolling her eyes behind her helmet. "He told me I was picking up a merc. That's it."

Zaeed chuckled darkly. "Typical. Before Cerberus snatched me up, I picked up a contract. Might be worth your time. A real bastard named Vido Santiago—head of the Blue Suns. He's taken over a refinery and turned the workers into slave labor. Company that owns the place wants it cleaned up. I figure a Spectre might appreciate the opportunity."

Alexis's voice dropped into a low growl. "Slavers? Then yeah. I'm interested. Get the details to Miranda. I want that marked on the CIC map by the time we leave Omega."

"Will do," Zaeed said, hauling the Batarian to his feet with a grunt and shoving him forward. "See you aboard, Commander."

He stalked off, his prisoner stumbling ahead of him.

Alexis watched him go, then turned back to Tali and Mari. "He’s blunt, but effective."

Mari gave a noncommittal grunt. "Mercs like that usually are. Just watch your back."

Tali nodded. "He better not cause trouble. Or I’ll reroute his shower to recycle waste vapors."

Alexis smirked. "Let’s just hope he doesn’t try you. He’d regret it."

With the exchange complete, the trio pressed deeper into Omega, the neon glow and pulsing music of Afterlife beckoning ahead.

The thudding bass of Afterlife's music hit them like a shockwave the moment the doors opened, a physical force that reverberated in their chests and threatened to drown thought. The air was thick with smoke and synthetic incense, lit in alternating pulses of harsh neon violet, blood-red crimson, and icy cyan. Strobe lights cut through the haze like blades, throwing every motion into jagged fragments.

The club itself was a study in chaos and seduction. The upper levels overlooked the pulsing heart of the dance floor, where bodies swayed and collided with reckless abandon. Asari performers twisted around gravity-defying poles on elevated stages. Mercenaries, mostly off-duty but still in partial armor, crowded around dimly lit tables, exchanging war stories and lewd boasts over mugs of synth-ale. Drunken laughter, heated arguments, and flirtatious shouting blurred into a cacophony of sound. The crowd was a mix of species—humans, Turians, Batarians, Salarians, and more—each dancing to the erratic rhythm of indulgence, desperation, or sheer boredom.

Alexis led Tali and Mari through the throng with practiced ease. Her HUD painted the room with layers of data—exits marked in green, high-threat areas in red, possible ambush vectors in soft amber. Despite the swarm of stimuli, she moved with silent grace, her custom armor absorbing the light like a shadow in motion. Tali kept close, her hand lightly brushing Alexis's from time to time for reassurance, while Mari's watchful eyes missed nothing, her posture radiating quiet readiness. This wasn’t their first time in a place like this, but the volatile undercurrent of Omega always demanded respect—and vigilance.

They pushed toward the back of the club, ascending a short staircase to a raised platform that overlooked the rest of the chaos. There, standing like a queen surveying her court, was Aria T’Loak. Draped in leathers and shadows, the Asari exuded the kind of self-assured control that came only from ruling something as wild and untamed as Omega.

Aria turned her head slightly as Alexis approached, her expression unreadable beneath the dim violet lights that shimmered down from the club’s ceiling. The Asari's eyes glittered like twin stars in the murk, and she gestured with a slow, imperious wave to the seat opposite her—a silent challenge more than a welcome.

"So," Aria said, her voice like velvet pulled tight over barbed wire, "what can I do for you?"

Alexis lowered herself into the seat with deliberate calm, her posture relaxed but her helmet tilting slightly as if to remind Aria she was always alert. "I’m looking for Archangel."

Aria chuckled, the sound cutting through the ambient noise like a blade. "You and half of Omega. You want him dead too?"

"No. I want him on the Normandy."

Aria arched a brow, finally showing something more than practiced amusement. "That’s bold. You do realize what you're walking into, right? He’s holed up in a fortified position, and the mercs are tearing their hair out trying to get to him. That alone should give you pause. They’re desperate—hiring anyone who can hold a gun or growl loud enough in that room over there."

She gave a slight tilt of her chin toward a room cordoned off by a red holographic curtain that shimmered like liquid fire.

Alexis followed the motion briefly with her visor before returning her attention. "Good to know. I’m also looking for Mordin Solus."

"The salarian doctor?" Aria smirked faintly. "Last I heard, he was knee-deep in a plague zone, playing hero—or something else, depending on who you ask. The locals think he’s either saving lives or building a bioweapon. Either way, no one’s thrilled about his presence. You’ll need a shuttle to get through the quarantine ring, but don’t expect to be greeted with gratitude."

Alexis stood, her armor catching and refracting the strobe lights in subtle gleams of matte black and red. "Thanks for the intel."

"Naturally," Aria said, settling deeper into her throne-like seat. "Always nice to see someone walk into a meat grinder with their eyes wide open. Try not to die, Shepard. Would be a shame to have Cerberus go through all that trouble just to lose you again."

Without another word, Alexis turned, her long strides purposeful. Tali and Mari fell into step without hesitation, the three of them descending the metal steps with fluid grace, moving like the practiced team they were.

As they cut through the crowds again, heading toward the red-curtained room, the blaring music and shifting lights couldn’t drown out the thoughts already coalescing in Alexis's mind. There were too many pieces in motion on Omega, and she'd have to be sharp to put them all in their place.

Outside the curtained entrance of the private room, a Batarian in faded Blue Suns armor stood with his arms crossed, his posture bored but alert. His gaze tracked the movement of everyone in the club with the calculated edge of a mercenary long used to chaos. When he spotted Alexis, Tali, and Mari approaching, his stance shifted slightly—straightening just enough to signal recognition without greeting. He gave a sharp nod and stepped aside without a word, gesturing silently for them to enter.

Inside, the contrast was immediate. The pounding music of Afterlife dulled to a throbbing hum, muffled by sound-dampening panels along the walls. The lighting here was minimal—flickering strips of orange and blue neon reflected off the metallic surfaces, casting long shadows across the scarred floors. The air carried the stale scent of recycled heat and old gun oil, mingled with something vaguely metallic, like old blood.

At the center of the room sat another Batarian behind what passed for a desk: a stack of storage crates arranged into a workspace littered with datapads, ammo cases, and a half-disassembled shotgun. He looked up as they entered, his four eyes squinting briefly in appraisal. The scar running from his upper left brow down to his chin gave him a permanent sneer.

"You three look like you can handle yourselves," he rasped, voice gravelled from years of screaming orders and smoke inhalation. "Here for the job, or just lost on your way to the bar?"

Alexis stepped forward, her N7 armor gleaming faintly under the light. "If this is the operation targeting Archangel, then yeah. We’re here for that."

The Batarian grunted, standing and cracking his neck with a sharp twist. "You found the right place. Simple rules. You bring your own gear, your own guts, and you get paid after the job's done. This isn’t some cushy assignment. You’re not joining the Blue Suns, Eclipse, or the Blood Pack. Just a pack of freelancers with a death wish."

Tali shifted subtly beside Alexis, her hand brushing against her arm in silent disapproval of the man's callous tone. Mari remained unmoved, her gaze locked on the Batarian with cool indifference.

Alexis crossed her arms, her voice steady. "Seems like a lot of mercs to throw at one guy."

The recruiter gave a low, bitter chuckle. "Used to be a team. Now it’s just him. But he’s dug in like a damn tick. Every squad we've sent either turned tail or never came back. Bastard knows every angle, every escape route. He's got the whole damn building rigged. That's why we're casting the net wide—overwhelming force."

He tapped a few commands into a datapad and handed it to Alexis. "Shuttle’s waiting outside Afterlife. It'll take you to the forward staging ground. Once there, you'll get your briefing. You show up armed and ready. Anyone not pulling their weight gets left behind—or worse."

Alexis glanced at the display, then back at the recruiter with a nod. "We'll be there."

"Good," he said, eyes lingering on her helmeted face. "Just don't underestimate him. Archangel might be alone, but he's made fools out of all of us so far."

"I’ll keep that in mind," Alexis said curtly before turning.

Tali and Mari flanked her again as they stepped back into the swirling lights and pulsing music of Afterlife. The club's heat and noise crashed over them like a wave, but Alexis barely noticed. She had what she needed. Now it was time to meet the ghost everyone in Omega seemed afraid to face.

Whoever Archangel was, he had the attention of every merc group on Omega. And now, he had hers.

~

The sniper rifle clicked dry—again.

Garrus grimaced, pulling the weapon back from the shattered window and laying it on the ground beside him. He checked the thermal clip—his last one, nearly depleted. He hadn’t been willing to waste a shot unless it would count. Maybe two more shots left, if he was careful. Maybe.

His fingers were stiff, scraped raw from days of constant fighting. His armor, once sleek and blue with the Archangel insignia stenciled along one shoulder, was scorched and dented, blackened by heat and spattered with dried blood.

He shifted his weight against the collapsed support beam he was using for cover and exhaled slowly. His breath came out shaky, his limbs buzzing with that brittle sort of fatigue that sank into the bones and refused to let go. It had been five days.

Five days of hell.

He barely remembered the first two. Those days had been a whirlwind of movement, of gunfire and comrades, of people he trusted fighting by his side. He remembered jokes shared between cover fire, shouted plans, battle-hardened grins.

There had been eleven of them.

Now he was alone.

And he was tired.

He reached for the old comm link, its casing cracked, wires exposed. Still functional. He had been putting this off for the last hour. Or maybe longer. Time had blurred into the gunmetal walls and the thudding of boots from below.

He keyed in the code with shaky fingers.

Alpia picked up almost immediately, her voice tight with tension and raw worry, “Garrus?”

He closed his eyes and let her voice wrap around him like armor. A balm against the jagged ache in his chest. “Hey,” he rasped. It came out more broken than he intended.

There was a pause. A silence filled only by her breathing. She knew. She always did. “How’s it going?”

Garrus chuckled, a dry, joyless sound that ended in a wheeze. “They’re all gone,” he managed. “I’m all that’s left.”

He waited for her to say something, to offer some comfort. But she just breathed. Until finally, with aching softness, she said, “You’ve still got me.”

He raised his pistol, took out a merc trying to scale the stairs, and let the silence hang again. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“We’ll never have a life together. I wanted one. I really did. We’ll never see each other again. I’ll never hold you again. I—” His voice cracked. His mandibles twitched.

“Yes, we will,” Alpia said, with a force that cut through the fog of his grief. “You’ll get through this. I’ll see you again.”

He blinked, her words stunning him into silence. “Alpia, how can you—”

“Garrus Vakarian.” Her voice snapped like a commander’s. “For once in our relationship, shut up and listen. You’re going to survive this. You’re going to crawl out of there, and you’re going to come home. Got it?”

He felt his mouth twitch upward in a shaky smile. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good. I love you. Now come back to me.”

The call ended. Garrus sat there for a long moment, letting the silence settle again. But it felt different now. Not empty. Not final.

He picked up the sniper again, checked the chamber. Still dry. He glanced to the nearly-spent clip sitting beside him. One more reload, maybe two shots left. He slid it into place with practiced care. It clicked home with a dull snap.

It was Alpia who ended the call, but Garrus found even that small conversation had given him a boost. He suddenly had newfound confidence that he could actually live through this. In the deepest parts of his mind, he knew it was impossible, but it didn’t hurt to have some hope. Hope was what had driven him throughout his campaign as Archangel, perhaps more so than simple justice. He hoped that what he’d done had made the galaxy a better place.

The next call that Garrus made was so much harder—so much heavier—than even pulling a trigger after days without sleep. It wasn’t danger that made it difficult, or fear, or even exhaustion. It was shame. The last time he’d spoken to this man, he’d walked away filled with righteous anger, practically spitting venom in his face, certain he didn’t need his approval. But now, with the end looming so close, he couldn’t let the silence between them be the last thing.

Castis Vakarian picked up on the first ring. Always punctual. Always disciplined. That familiar, authoritative voice carried across the connection, crisp and direct, “Castis Vakarian.”

Garrus hesitated, his mandibles twitching. Words caught in his throat, but he forced them out. “Dad.”

There was a beat of silence. Not long, but long enough to feel like a weight.

The sharp intake of breath on the other end said more than words could. Garrus could practically feel his father sitting straighter, the immediate shift in tone unmistakable. “Garrus? Is that you?”

“Yeah… it’s me.”

“How… how are you? And what’s that noise?”

Garrus sighed, brushing grime from his visor, hearing gunfire echo through the comm. “I’m alright. Sort of. A bit stuck, but… yeah. Just a little target practice.”

There was a pause again, heavier this time. Castis’s voice lost a bit of its iron. “Then call me back later.”

“I don’t think I’ll have that many targets left, Dad.” Garrus’ voice dropped low. Quiet. Honest. “I just… I needed to call. Before it’s too late. I wanted to hear your voice. Ask how retirement’s been treating you. You good?”

Castis didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was quieter, strained around the edges. “I’m fine. Forget about that.”

“I’m sorry,” Garrus said, the words like splinters in his throat. “For everything. For leaving, for what I said on the Citadel. You were right about a lot more than I gave you credit for. I was stubborn. Stupid.”

“I said forget about it,” Castis replied, but it was softer now. Less command, more comfort. A father’s voice. He paused. “These targets you’re practicing on… they moving fast?”

Garrus gave a shaky breath that might’ve been a laugh. “So far not fast enough. But they’re learning.”

“How are your thermal clips?”

He glanced down at the few that remained. “Almost dry. Just a handful left.”

“Then work with what you’ve got. You don’t stop pulling that trigger until it clicks, son. No matter how bad things are falling apart around you, as long as you have at least one bullet, you can still get the job done. That’s what Vakarians do.”

Garrus closed his eyes, trying not to let the tears break through. He could feel it—his father knew. Knew this was goodbye. But he wasn’t letting it be that. Not yet.

“You finish what you have to do out there, and then you come home. To Palaven. We’ll talk. We’ll work it out. For me?”

Garrus’ breath hitched. He hadn’t expected this. Not after the years of butting heads, the cold words and sharper silences. But Castis—Dad—still wanted him. Still loved him.

Then through his scope, Garrus saw them.

Three Quarians. Tactical formation, moving like marines. The central figure—taller, distinct—wore a shawl with familiar embroidery. His breath caught.

He knew those symbols.

Tali’Zorah.

Alexis’Shepard.

She was alive.

“Yeah… Yeah we do. Thanks, Dad. For everything,” Garrus murmured, hope rising like a tide. His claws tightened on the rifle. His breath steadied.

He was going to live. He was going to fucking live.

“I’ll make it home when I can. The odds just got a lot better.”

~

Alexis, Mari, and Tali crossed the narrow bridge flanked by broken barriers and the signs of heavy weapons fire. The two freelancers walking ahead of them—mercs hired from the crowd in Afterlife—were laughing, cocky, and totally unaware. They had no reason to suspect the three Quarians walking behind them weren’t just more hired guns.

Alexis's hand hovered near her rifle grip. A small nod passed between her and Mari, barely a flick of movement beneath their helmets. Tali shifted her weight, syncing into a familiar stance they had used time and again in countless simulations and real fights. Her pulse was steady. This wasn’t new. This was instinct. They were a team.

The freelancers stepped through the threshold of the barricade, just a little too confident.

"Now," Alexis said over their private channel.

In one smooth motion, Alexis brought up her Valkyrie and dropped the first merc with two rapid shots to center mass. Mari swept left with her shotgun, blasting the second so hard he staggered into a wall and didn’t get back up. Tali darted forward, her omni-tool flaring to life with a precision overload that disabled the comms and kinetic barriers of another ahead, exposing him just long enough for Alexis to finish the job.

"Clear," Mari said as they advanced. Her voice was calm, but Alexis could hear the steel beneath it.

They moved as one, covering angles without speaking, watching one another's blind spots. Tali's movements flowed in perfect rhythm with Alexis's, her marine training under Mari clear in every calculated step. The last time they'd fought together had been on the SR-1, but the bond between them hadn’t dulled in two years.

The interior of Archangel’s base was a warzone.

Dead freelancers, Blue Suns, Blood Pack, Eclipse mercs—all strewn about in broken piles. Bullet holes peppered the walls. Spent thermal clips clattered beneath their boots. Craters and fire-scorched panels showed where grenades had gone off. Crushed mechs sparked against walls or lay folded in on themselves like discarded scrap.

Alexis took it all in. Whoever this Archangel was, they had made a damn mess of the mercs trying to kill him. The precision of the destruction, the angles of the kills, and the fallback patterns all pointed to one thing: a professional.

They swept through a side room, clearing a corridor filled with more downed mercs. A YMIR mech lay crumpled in the corner, smoke curling from its ruined chassis. Its torso had been torn open by something with devastating precision, the impact clean and surgical. Alexis slowed as she passed it, her gaze lingering.

"That’s not just firepower," she murmured. "That’s placement. Someone set a trap, or sacrificed something big to take this down."

Her eyes narrowed as she examined the blast radius and the pattern of ruptured plating. Whatever brought this thing down had to be devastatingly close—possibly explosives planted at close range, or some kind of proximity-triggered charge. It wasn't a wild firefight that did this. It was cold calculation. High-risk tactics.

Mari let out a low whistle as she passed. "That mech didn’t go down easy. Someone made a hell of a stand."

Alexis nodded, the pieces of the battlefield painting a picture that was becoming increasingly clear: Archangel wasn’t just holding out. He was fighting smart. Fighting to survive, no matter the cost.

"He’s still fighting up there," Mari noted, glancing toward the second floor as they heard distant gunfire.

"Then we need to move," Alexis said.

They kept advancing, stepping over the bodies of the fallen, their weapons hot and senses sharpened. Alexis didn't say it, but part of her was impressed. Whoever Archangel was, he was holding the line alone against a city’s worth of hired killers.

Alexis led the trio up the stairs, their boots crunching over spent thermal clips and the debris of a week-long siege. The last of the freelancers fell with precise bursts of fire, clearing the final steps to the top floor. The room ahead was bathed in dim light, its reinforced windows and blast shielding rattling faintly with the impacts of gunfire echoing from outside.

As Alexis stepped into the room, her eyes swept the space. The air was thick with the scent of scorched metal and blood. A human woman and an Asari lay still in one corner, clearly not mercs or freelancers. Their positioning was careful, deliberate—as if someone had taken time to lay them to rest. Alexis's expression tightened behind her helmet.

"Archangel?" she called out.

The figure in blue Turian-designed armor held up a hand, hunched over the battered frame of a Mantis sniper rifle. He didn’t look away from the scope.

"One sec," the voice came through slightly modulated. Then a crack of the rifle. Down below, a freelancer trying to peek out from behind cover dropped instantly, skull split open. Satisfied, Archangel stepped back, slipping out of his sniper position.

With practiced ease, he removed his helmet. The familiar face of Garrus Vakarian looked up at her, his mandibles twitching into a tired but genuine smirk. The weariness clung to him like the dust on his armor, but his blue eyes were still sharp.

"Shepard. I thought you were dead."

Alexis took a slow step forward, her voice soft but firm. "I made a promise to someone that I would come back to her. Couldn't let something like death make me break a promise."

Behind her, Tali let out a faint exhale, clearly rolling her eyes beneath her visor.

Garrus chuckled—a dry, rasping sound that still carried warmth. "I'm glad to see you. Especially with Tali. Might actually have a chance now." He gave Mari a nod. "No offense, but I haven’t fought with you before."

Mari shrugged, resting her shotgun against her shoulder. "None taken. Most of what I know about you comes from Alexis and Tali. They've talked about you more than once—always with respect."

That got another smirk out of Garrus. "Well, nice to know I still have fans."

Alexis stepped closer, pulling out a pack of thermal clips from a side pouch and handing them over. "Your base. So what’s the plan, Garrus?"

He took the clips with a grateful grunt, sliding one into his Mantis. "That bridge keeps them funneled for now, but they’ll try flanking again soon. I can’t hold all angles on my own anymore. But with the three of you? We’ve got a real shot."

Mari checked the map on her omni-tool. "They’re repositioning again. If they send another wave across the bridge, we can bottleneck them, hit them hard. Tali, can you lock down the side access?"

Tali nodded. "Give me a few seconds with their network. I’ll reroute security drones to hold that flank."

As if summoned by their planning, a mechanical whir filled the air—Eclipse LOKI Mechs stomping into view at the far end of the bridge.

"Looks like they're here," Garrus said, voice grim but steady.

Alexis took her place at the barricade beside him, rifle raised. "Then let's make sure they regret ever coming to Omega."

Together, the four of them readied their weapons, shoulder to shoulder, as the next wave of enemies came into view. The battle for Archangel’s survival wasn’t over—but it was no longer a fight he faced alone.

The defenders of the barricade braced as the next wave came into view.

A dull thrum filled the air, mechanical footfalls echoing in rhythm with shouting mercs and the rhythmic clatter of LOKI mechs stomping across the bridge. Garrus and Alexis stood shoulder-to-shoulder behind a low blast wall, rifle muzzles trained, breathing steady. Tali had taken up a flanking position, ready to handle any that made it past.

"Incoming mechs and freelancers!" Garrus called out, lining up his shot.

"On it," Alexis answered, her Valkyrie roaring to life in tight bursts that cut down the first group of advancing mercenaries. Thermal clips hissed as they hit their limit, but each exchange was smooth, practiced. Tali flanked the others, her shotgun blasting apart a pair of LOKI mechs that slipped through the carnage.

Mari anchored the other side of the defense line, her Claymore shotgun thunderous in its retort. Freelancers went down before they even realized she'd moved. Her movements were clean and lethal, her coordination with Tali and Alexis seamless. The three of them moved like one machine—an echo of their old training and experience.

Garrus couldn’t help but watch for a moment as the trio cut through the enemy ranks with precision. He'd known Shepard was dangerous before, but seeing her fight now—with those two at her side—it was something else entirely.

Then came the warning hum of something bigger.

"YMIR mech!" Garrus barked, spotting the armored monstrosity stomping forward behind a wave of mercs.

He raised his sniper rifle, only to be stopped by Tali's calm voice over comms.

"Don’t worry about it. It’s been dealt with."

Garrus blinked, confused. "Dealt with?"

As the YMIR mech advanced into the center of the bridge, it slowed. Its targeting systems lit up—and then without warning, it rotated and opened fire into the mass of mercenaries at its back. Explosive rounds shredded Blue Suns and Eclipse troops alike, the bridge turning into a killing field as the YMIR laid waste to everything in sight.

"We sabotaged it on the way in," Alexis said, a smirk in her voice. "Tali wiped its IFF protocols. Now it just sees everyone as hostile."

Mari chuckled, lining up another shot. "Told you we were thorough."

Garrus whistled. "Remind me not to piss any of you off."

The YMIR mech's rampage didn’t last long. Overwhelmed by the sheer volume of fire it drew after opening up on its own side, the massive machine collapsed in a heap of smoldering wreckage, taking a good chunk of the merc force with it.

But there was no rest.

"Heads up," Garrus warned. "That’s Jaroth. Salarian. Eclipse officer. Looks like he wants to finish this himself."

The thin, armored figure of Jaroth darted across the far side of the bridge. He made it halfway across before Alexis cut him down with a well-placed burst. The Salarian crumpled, his body sliding to a stop in a smear of dark blood and shattered shields.

"Guess not," Alexis muttered.

Tali's voice was steady. "Mercs are falling back. I think that did it."

"Not a bad warm-up," Garrus said, stepping away from the barricade to survey the field of the dead. "Not bad at all."

The thunderclap of an explosion rocked the structure, shaking dust and debris from the ceiling. The momentary lull in gunfire shattered as a deep reverberation echoed up from the lower levels—a breach charge.

Garrus straightened from his crouch behind cover, his mandibles flicking with tension as he brought up his omni-tool. The display flared to life with a warning message, a red triangle pulsing over the sublevel schematics. "Damn it, they found a side access tunnel. They're inside."

Alexis was already turning toward the staircase before he finished speaking. The map on her HUD was flashing in the same place, a pinpointed alert pulsing from her integrated systems. The Geth code that quietly cohabited her cybernetics was already parsing stolen mercenary data from their communications network, identifying the route and troop composition of the intruders.

"I know. They're coming up through the secondary access tunnels. They split their force to flank us," Alexis said, her voice sharp through the helmet comms. She turned to her mother, her tone all command now. "Mum, stay up here with Garrus. Hold the bridge. Tali and I will stop them before they get any further."

Mari nodded without hesitation, her shotgun already slung as she switched to the Viper sniper rifle on her back. She checked the scope with swift precision before settling into a firing position near one of the upper windows. "Understood. We’ve got the upper level. Go."

Tali was already moving, falling into step beside Alexis. Their movements synced instinctively, their suits flashing brief encrypted signals across each other as systems linked. Alexis toggled her rifle to burst-fire, ready for close-quarters, while Tali brought up her omni-tool, prepping her drone.

Garrus watched them go for a second, then returned his attention to the bridge. "Watch your corners down there," he called after them. "They’re desperate."

Alexis didn’t look back. Her voice was calm and unwavering over the comms. "So are we."

Together, she and Tali disappeared down the stairwell, ready to meet the next wave head-on.

Alexis and Tali rushed down the smoke-filled stairwell, boots clanging against the metal as the air thickened with heat and the lingering stench of scorched wiring and explosive residue. The moment they entered the basement level, the Geth presence embedded in Alexis's cybernetics expanded its influence, overlays of tactical data flickering across her HUD with unsettling precision.

Tali, syncing her systems with Alexis's, received the data streams in tandem—enemy positions, projected movement paths, heat signatures. She blinked behind her visor, the flood of real-time information feeling both familiar and wrong. Her grip on her shotgun tightened.

Tali’s voice was quiet, almost uncertain. "It’s like having a Geth ghost riding in our helmets…"

Alexis nodded without looking. "Yeah. Still trying to figure out how I feel about that."

The lower corridor widened into a partially collapsed maintenance junction, a haze of dust hanging in the air like a curtain. Cracked lights sputtered above them, casting flickering shadows. A console embedded in the wall blinked yellow in her HUD. The Geth processes flagged it with a priority marker, feeding the command protocol directly to Alexis and Tali.

"That panel," Alexis said. "If we can trigger the shutters, it'll stop them from advancing further."

Tali dashed toward it, activating her omni-tool and initiating the emergency lockdown sequence. A mechanical groan rumbled through the walls as the first shutter began to descend slowly—far too slowly.

"They're already coming!" Tali called out.

The sound of charging footsteps and guttural howls echoed through the hall as a Blood Pack squad emerged from the smoke—Vorcha shrieking and firing wildly, a Krogan stomping behind them like a living tank.

Alexis stepped in front of Tali, her Valkyrie rifle raised, barking bursts of fire into the advancing mercenaries. She dropped one Vorcha mid-sprint, then another, her targeting marked by red-traced outlines from the Geth.

The Krogan charged.

"Hit him now!" Alexis shouted.

Tali launched her pulse with a sharp flick of her wrist. It buzzed toward the Krogan, hitting him with a pulse of electricity that staggered him just enough for Alexis to unload a full burst into his shields. Sparks flew as armor cracked, and a final blast from Tali's shotgun sent the Krogan crashing to the floor.

With the last enemy down and the shutter finally locking into place with a resounding clang, the corridor went momentarily quiet.

"One down," Alexis panted, reloading. "Two more to go."

Tali scanned the map as another Geth marker highlighted a secondary access corridor. "They're already moving through the next one. If we don't beat them there..."

"Then we don't stop them."

Without another word, the two bolted toward the next checkpoint, their suits pulsing with sync data and weapon readouts, adrenaline and resolve pushing them forward into the next storm.

~

The corridor above the bridge echoed with gunfire as Garrus reloaded behind cover, his rifle humming with heat. Mari knelt a few meters away, steady and composed behind the viewport ledge, her Viper sniper rifle pressed against her shoulder, the barrel already cooling from the last precise shot.

Another merc raised his head across the bridge. Mari's finger barely twitched.

Crack.

The merc dropped before he could even scream, his body crumpling against the barricade.

"Damn," Garrus muttered, impressed despite the chaos. "I see where Alexis got her aim from."

Mari didn’t look up, only adjusted her sight and chambered another round. "I’ve had a lot more years to practice. Don’t go giving her too much credit just yet."

Garrus chuckled, popping up long enough to send a burst into a charging freelancer before ducking back. "Still, good to know the family tradition is alive and well."

Mari finally spared him a glance, her tone dry. "You planning to flirt or keep shooting, Vakarian?"

"Multitasking," he replied smoothly, his mandibles flaring in amusement.

Another wave surged across the bridge, a mix of Blue Suns and Eclipse mercenaries. Garrus narrowed his eyes.

"Looks like they’re getting desperate."

Mari exhaled slowly, focusing her scope. "Desperate people make mistakes. Let’s punish them for it."

Together, they opened fire again. Each shot from Mari's rifle was a surgical cut through the chaos, while Garrus laid down more aggressive suppressing fire, forcing the mercs to break formation and scatter.

They worked in sync, understanding each other's timing instinctively despite having just met. Alexis's mother or not, Garrus was starting to admire Mari'Saalas not just for her skill but for her clarity under pressure.

He glanced toward her as the latest assault broke apart under their withering fire. "You ever think of joining C-Sec? You'd put half their sharpshooters to shame."

Mari smirked behind her helmet. "Spent too long being shot at by people in uniform to want to wear one."

"Fair enough. Still glad you’re on our side."

Mari reloaded smoothly, her voice quieter but firm. "The only side I’ve ever cared about is my daughter’s. Her and those who stand beside her. That’s the side I fight for."

They shared a brief nod before returning to their rifles. The bridge below them was littered with bodies and shattered mechs, but they both knew the fight wasn’t over yet.

~

The comm crackled to life with Garrus’s voice, terse and alert. “Shepard. We’ve got another problem. Flanking force just breached the west side. Garm’s with them.”

Alexis cursed under her breath as she and Tali reached the upper level, the sound of gunfire and shouting echoing from the halls behind them. The map on her HUD updated in real-time, the Geth processes pulsing with data—the incoming enemies marked in red, Garm’s larger signature unmistakable.

“We’re almost there,” Alexis snapped into the comm. “Hold them as long as you can.”

“No promises,” Garrus shot back, though even through the static, she could hear the grin in his voice.

They burst back into the upper chamber just in time to see Garrus and Mari entrenched behind cover near the command platform. The air shimmered with heat from weapons fire, and the floor shook as Garm, a mountain of blood-red muscle and fury, charged them alongside two other Krogans.

Mari was already firing, her Viper rifle cracking off two quick shots, slamming into the chest of one of the flanking Krogans. Garrus nailed the second in the leg, slowing its advance, but it wasn’t enough. The pair of warriors bore down on them, trading fire for momentum.

Alexis and Tali dove into cover behind a reinforced crate. Alexis signaled with two fingers, and the pair broke off, Tali firing a suppressive burst from her Claymore as Alexis vaulted over cover, rolling into position with her Valkyrie barking controlled shots.

The Blood Pack soldiers between them and Garm turned to meet the new threat, but they weren’t prepared for a fight from two fronts. Tali’s tech hummed as she launched a drone into the fray, stunning a charging Vorcha before Alexis laid it low with a trio of precise shots.

Up above, the remaining Krogan let out a bellow and charged Mari, only to be caught with a roundhouse kick to the side from Garrus. The blow didn’t drop him, but it staggered him enough for Mari to take her shot. She rolled forward, aimed low, and blew out the Krogan’s knee.

Then it was only Garm.

The massive Krogan was bleeding from several wounds but still advancing with a terrifying growl, his shotgun roaring as he fired wildly to drive Garrus back. Mari ducked behind a scorched pillar, then pivoted wide as Garm closed in, reloading his weapon with a savage snap. As he loomed over her with a roar, she surged up with a brutal headbutt that cracked against his forehead plating with a resounding thunk.

The impact was enough to stagger him back a step—just far enough.

Alexis didn’t hesitate. She fired a burst into Garm’s exposed side, the rounds punching through his armor. Garm let out a choked howl before crashing to the floor.

Silence settled briefly, broken only by the sound of Alexis’s breathing and the crackle of burned circuitry.

Tali and Garrus exchanged a look, equal parts relief and amazement. Alexis turned immediately to Mari, who was already brushing herself off.

“You good?” Alexis asked, worry thick in her voice.

Mari nodded, her voice calm despite the chaos. “Takes more than a brute with a god complex to take me down.”

Garrus gave a strained laugh, sitting back against a crate, wincing as he clutched a bruised side. “You weren’t joking, Shepard. You really did learn the headbutt from her.”

Alexis and Mari just shared a glance, then identical grins spread across their faces.

“Told you,” Alexis said.

With the Blood Pack finally crushed, the sounds of combat faded to a low hum of static over the comms and the distant crackle of flames licking along shattered consoles and broken equipment. Garrus let out a long breath, his sniper rifle lowering slightly as he stepped back from the edge of the command platform.

"Just the Blue Suns left now," he said, his voice gravelly and tired but laced with grim determination.

Mari, crouched behind a crate as she reloaded her Viper, nodded once. "Ammo check?"

Alexis checked her HUD. "Approaching half of what I brought. Still good."

"Same," Tali added, swapping in a fresh thermal clip to her Claymore.

Before they could say more, the sharp whine of jet engines screamed through the ruined windows. The team dove for cover as a burst of cannon fire shredded the upper wall behind them. Sparks and debris flew as the Mantis gunship roared into view, its sleek body banking around the spire and circling for another pass.

"You've got to be kidding me," Garrus growled. "I already took that thing out."

Alexis smirked, crouched low behind a metal beam. "Fixed it. But not all the way. We sabotaged it earlier."

The gunship's autocannon tore another line of fire across the room, hammering down where they had been standing moments before. Alexis felt the familiar chill of adrenaline rush through her veins. With a grin, she holstered her Valkyrie and reached over her shoulder to pull out the Widow.

Garrus whistled low as he spotted the massive sniper rifle. "You always did have a flair for the dramatic."

Alexis didn’t respond, her focus already narrowing. Her HUD adjusted instantly with the Geth processes aiding her aim. She moved in a smooth, practiced motion—a spin out of cover, steady breath, finger on the trigger. The Widow roared like thunder.

The recoil shuddered through her entire body, but her cybernetic arm absorbed most of the impact. Still, she could feel the power behind it. Without the enhancements, she might have torn her shoulder apart. The anti-material round screamed through the air, punching through the gunship’s side plating and tearing through its engines in a crackling eruption of fire and steel.

Black smoke poured from the engine mounts as the Mantis lurched, spinning off-course and out of the combat zone for now. The sound of it retreating was a symphony to their ears.

"Nice shot," Mari called over the ringing silence.

"That’s why you bring a cannon to a gunfight," Alexis replied, reloading the Widow with a satisfying click.

No time to celebrate—Blue Suns foot soldiers were closing in. But compared to what they'd just fought, the mercs were nothing. The four of them moved as one, sweeping through the hallways and stairwells, cutting down the remaining opposition with ruthless efficiency.

It was starting to feel like they might make it through.

Then came the roar of engines again.

The gunship swept back into view, skimming low to the platform outside the shattered windows. Its shadow fell across Garrus just as he stepped up to fire again.

"Archangel!" came a snarling voice over an open comm. Tarak.

Garrus turned, but not in time. The cannon barked, a heavy burst catching him in the side. He staggered, blood spraying, and tried to throw himself into cover.

Then the rocket hit.

The explosion sent him flying, slamming into a pillar before he crumpled to the ground, motionless.

"Garrus!" Tali screamed.

Alexis didn’t hesitate. The Widow was already in her hands. She rose to a crouch, sighted through the window, and saw the gunship bearing down, the pilot's silhouette visible in the cockpit.

She fired.

The shot tore through the gunship’s front armor and into the cockpit. The effect was instantaneous. The Mantis tilted, engines sputtering, then slammed sideways into the tower wall in a bloom of fire and debris.

Alexis dropped the rifle, already running toward Garrus.

He was still breathing.

Barely.

Smoke still hung in the air from the wreckage of the Mantis gunship, the sharp scent of scorched metal and fuel burning in Alexis’s nose filters. The roar of the battle faded into the ringing stillness that followed.

"Garrus!" Alexis was already moving, sprinting across the room with Tali close on her heels.

Garrus lay in a twisted heap, half-covered in debris from the shattered wall. Blood—Turian blue—pooled beneath him, and the right side of his face was a mess of shrapnel wounds and burns. His mandible on that side hung at an unnatural angle, trembling with each labored breath.

Alexis dropped to her knees beside him, her gauntleted hands already pulling out her medi-gel applicator. Tali knelt across from her, her own omni-tool glowing as she connected with Garrus’s armor medical readout to get readings.

"Keelah... Lexi, his vitals are low, but he's stable for the moment. We need to get him to the Normandy."

"Already on it," Alexis said, snapping open her comms to shipboard. "Normandy, this is Commander Shepard. We have a medical emergency—Garrus is down. I need medbay prepped and standing by. ETA five minutes."

"Understood, Commander. Doctor Chakwas is ready. Shuttle's on its way," Joker's voice responded, tight with concern.

Mari moved quickly to the nearest intact window, rifle up, eyes scanning the skyline and surrounding rooftops for any more merc surprises.

"We’re clear for now," she confirmed. "Go. I’ll cover you till you’re off the ground."

Together, Alexis and Tali gently lifted Garrus between them, supporting him on either side. He groaned as they moved, one eye fluttering open just long enough to recognize them.

"Still alive," he rasped, the words barely more than a breath. "Hate being wrong..."

"Yeah, well, get used to it," Alexis muttered, holding him a little tighter.

The shuttle landed with precision just outside the remains of the stronghold, its side panel sliding open. They moved as fast as they dared, every second stretching longer under the weight of urgency.

As they lifted Garrus inside, the Normandy med team was already waiting. Chakwas herself guided the stretcher, her expression grim but focused.

"Let me work," she told them gently but firmly. "You did good. Now let us take it from here."

Alexis nodded silently, her hand brushing over Garrus’ shoulder as the medics worked around him, stabilizing him with field equipment while the shuttle cut through the sky en route to the Normandy. Tali stood close at her side, her fingers gently brushing against Alexis’ gauntlet, grounding both of them.

They watched the medics administer additional medi-gel, sealing wounds and injecting a cocktail of pain suppressants and stabilizers. Garrus murmured once, unintelligibly, but his hand twitched in response.

Tali leaned in slightly, her voice just audible over the hum of the engines. “He’s going to make it,” she said—not as certainty, but as something fragile and hopeful.

Alexis looked at her partner, then back down at Garrus’s battered form, the sharp scent of blood and burnt plating lingering in the air. “He has to,” she whispered. “We didn’t come this far to lose anyone else.”

Chapter 24: XXIV

Summary:

The Professor.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXIV

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Mari leaned on the edge of the conference table, arms folded, her helmet still securely in place. The soft hum of the Normandy’s systems filled the background, and the glow of the terminal screens cast muted reflections across the faceplate of her visor, catching on the subtle silver etching that marked her unit. Alexis and Tali stood close by, the three forming a quiet triangle of tension and anticipation, listening intently as Mari gave the update on Garrus’s condition.

"Chakwas has done wonders," Mari said, her voice warm with cautious optimism, yet carrying the steady cadence of a soldier used to preparing for all outcomes. "Most of the facial damage was treatable with a combination of surgical reconstruction and cybernetic reinforcement. He’s stable, healing well. It'll take time, but he’s going to be alright."

Tali gave a soft exhale of relief, while Alexis nodded, her posture easing just slightly from the tension it had held since they brought Garrus back to the Normandy.

Before either of them could speak, the door to the room hissed open.

Garrus stepped through.

He cut a striking figure despite the damage. His armor was scuffed and battered from the relentless battle—its matte blue plating bearing new burn scars and scratches. A deep chunk was missing from the raised collar just below where his right mandible met the edge of the plating, a visible reminder of the gunship's cannon blast. His face bore the fresh marks of survival, jagged scars tracking from the side of his mouth along his lower mandibles, while a surgical brace gripped the upper right side of his face. The sleek medical wrapping glimmered faintly under the room’s lights, fused into place to allow the tissue beneath to settle and heal.

He walked with a slight limp, armor still settling awkwardly around his healing frame, but he carried himself with the stubborn pride of a man who had stared death in the face and told it to wait its turn.

"So, Shepard," Garrus said, his voice rough but laced with dry humor, a smirk tugging at the unbandaged corner of his mouth, "no one would give me a mirror. Tell me—how bad is it?"

Alexis let out a half-laugh, half-groan, the tension easing just a little more from her voice. "Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on and no one’ll be able to tell."

He chuckled, then winced immediately, his hand rising instinctively to his face before lowering again. "Ha-ha, don’t make me laugh. My face is barely holding together as is." He looked away for a moment, mandibles flicking low with uncertainty. "Hopefully Alpia doesn’t mind."

Tali blinked, tilting her head slightly. "Alpia?"

Garrus glanced toward her, looking briefly sheepish—an odd sight on someone normally so collected. "Uh… my girlfriend. She’s a nurse here on Omega. We’ve been together a while."

Alexis raised a brow beneath her helmet, her mouth curving into a knowing grin. "As much as I want to start teasing you for holding out on me, we’ve got a mission. And there’s a reason we came to recruit Archangel."

Garrus straightened a bit more, his weariness masked behind a facade of steady professionalism. "Whatever it is, I’m in, Shepard. I mean it. I’m glad you’ve got people with you who actually care—and that it’s not just Cerberus pulling your strings. I’ve got your back. Us non-humans have to stick together."

The words hit harder than Alexis had expected. She looked at him, eyes meeting through the subtle shimmer of her helmet’s faceplate. That trust, that understanding… it reached something deep in her, reaffirming that maybe she hadn’t lost everything. That even now, after everything, there were still people who saw her for who she was—and still chose to stand beside her.

She nodded once, firm. "Good. We’ve still got unfinished work on Omega. We’ll try to make time to find your girlfriend, assuming she’s still here. But for now, gear up. I’ll brief you on the bigger mission once we’re en route."

Garrus nodded without hesitation, already reaching for the spare helmet clipped to his side.

Together again. A team rebuilt. And this time, they weren’t going to let each other fall.

~

The shuttle ride to the quarantine zone was silent, the kind of silence that settled heavy in the chest. Alexis sat near the front, visor reflecting the red-orange hues of Omega's polluted skies. Tali sat beside her, legs barely brushing. Across from them, Garrus methodically checked over his gear, his movements slow but deliberate. Mari remained quiet, standing and bracing herself against the bulkhead.

As the shuttle touched down just outside the entrance to the quarantined sector, the harsh clang of metal and hiss of vents greeted them. They were immediately met with the low thrum of tension from the few remaining Omega security forces holding the perimeter. A single Turian guard stood at the checkpoint, blocking the path of a frustrated-looking human woman.

"Please! I just need to get in and grab my stuff! If I leave it any longer, some looter’s going to snatch it all! Come on, it’s not like I can get sick from the damn plague. I’m human."

"No humans allowed past this point," the Turian said firmly, his hand resting near his sidearm. "Doesn’t matter if you can’t catch it. We’re not letting anyone else in who doesn’t have clearance. You walk in there, you might walk out with something else."

Alexis, Mari, Tali, and Garrus approached the checkpoint, weapons and armour unmistakably professional and far more intimidating than the civilian pleading with the guard.

The Turian's mandibles twitched slightly in surprise at the sight of the squad. "Hold it. No one gets in. Not unless you have a death wish. That plague—whatever it is—tears through every species but humans. You go in, you don’t come out."

Alexis didn’t pause. "We’re going in. We’re here for Dr. Mordin Solus."

The Turian gave a long-suffering sigh. "Of course you are." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the sealed gate. "Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you."

"Wait, what? You’re letting them in? Why can’t I go?!" the woman protested.

The Turian just grunted. "They’ve got an arsenal strapped to their backs and sealed suits. You have a purse."

As the woman fumed, the squad slipped past the checkpoint into the narrow corridor beyond. The stench of decay and metal grew stronger with every step.

Inside the airlock, Garrus paused, pulling his helmet from his hip and locking it into place with a faint hiss. "Seals good," he muttered, checking his omni-tool.

Alexis turned her head slightly to look at the others. "Status check."

"Environmental seals green," Tali confirmed.

Mari gave a nod. "Reading normal pressure and air quality through the suit."

The doors ahead of them groaned open, revealing the first stretch of the quarantine zone proper. The lighting flickered intermittently, casting long, trembling shadows down corridors lined with debris, abandoned medical stretchers, and makeshift barricades.

"Let’s find Mordin," Alexis said, stepping forward, her voice steel under pressure. "Stay alert. This place feels like it’s ready to collapse."

And with that, the squad pressed deeper into the darkness of the infected zone.

The corridors of the quarantined sector were like a graveyard stripped of ceremony, a labyrinth of pain and silence echoing with ghosts. The air, thick with the reek of rot and scorched metal, pressed against their sealed suits like the weight of memory and death itself. Flames licked at piles of blackened corpses heaped in alleyways and doorways—burning sacrifices in a desperate, cruel attempt to contain the spread of the plague. The only sounds were the low moan of creaking metal, the distant crack of fire, and the static rustle of ash blowing across the floor.

Alexis led the team, her Valkyrie rifle cradled against her shoulder, scanning every corner and shadow with precision. Her helmeted gaze swept over the devastation with focused purpose, the quiet fury in her stance barely masked. Beside her, Tali moved in sync, the massive Claymore shotgun at the ready, held close like a shield. Every now and then, her eyes flicked across her HUD, data flowing in tandem from EDI and the strange, silent harmony of the Geth processes now integrated with Alexis’s systems.

Mari flanked the opposite side, her Vindicator assault rifle sweeping across broken doorways and shattered glass. Her every step was calm, controlled—warrior stillness masking the weight of grief and righteous anger that simmered beneath the surface. Garrus brought up the rear, his Mantis sniper rifle raised, mandibles tight with grim focus beneath the shell of his helmet. Despite the odds, the squad moved as one—four shadows cutting through death’s playground.

They moved through narrow streets and darkened alleys, footfalls muffled by layers of grime, soot, and bone-dry dust. The plague had not just killed; it had hollowed this district out. Welded-shut doors marked the homes of the doomed—seared seams and warped metal glowing with faded heat. Scrawled messages smeared across walls in blood and soot told stories of betrayal, abandonment, and final desperation.

A rusted sign hung askew above a half-collapsed doorway: “Shelter – Help Inside.”

They passed it in silence.

EDI’s voice crackled into their ears, detached and calm. “A clinic has been identified approximately three blocks northeast. Dr. Mordin Solus is likely to be operating from that location.”

“I’m cross-referencing that with a signal the Geth processes flagged,” Tali added, her omni-tool casting orange light over her visor. Her voice was steady, though a quiet unease laced its edges. “It’s consistent with a standard Salarian triage setup. The signal’s being boosted—he’s broadcasting to survivors.”

Alexis gave a short nod, silent but certain, and pressed forward.

In one corridor, a collapsed Turian civilian blocked the path, his body curled around a small, broken datapad. Tali stooped beside him, gently retrieving the device. After a few seconds of decryption, her voice trembled slightly.

“It’s a journal. He and two others were trapped. One started coughing… the Blue Suns welded the door shut. He wrote about trying not to breathe. About how quiet the others got before the end.”

None of them spoke. Mari’s grip on her rifle shifted, subtle but telling. Garrus lingered, his gaze on the body for a heartbeat longer, his mandibles tight with the memory of another sealed fate.

As they turned another corner, the evidence of mercenary cruelty worsened. In one room, the skeletal remains of a family lay beneath a scorched table. In another, the floor was scratched raw with desperate fingernails, trailing from the center of the room to the sealed door. A child’s toy—half melted—rested near the wall.

“I hate this place,” Garrus muttered.

“We’re going to fix this,” Alexis said through clenched teeth. “Mordin’s the key. This can’t happen again.”

Their destination grew closer, flickering lights barely visible through a smoke-shrouded courtyard. The signs of resistance were evident—blood trails, empty thermal clips, scorch marks where mechs had once stood.

Through the haze, the shape of the clinic came into view. Its windows were boarded, makeshift barriers reinforced with scrap metal and plasteel plating. A faded sign bearing a half-destroyed medical symbol hung crooked over the entrance.

With grim determination, the team advanced, weapons raised, hearts steeled against the horror behind them—and the battle that surely waited ahead.

The narrow corridor ahead lit up with the flicker of gunfire, muzzle flashes dancing across the grime-coated walls and ceiling as the squad came to a sudden stop. Alexis raised a clenched fist, signaling the others to halt. Tali pressed in behind her, Claymore at the ready, the oversized shotgun humming faintly with power. Mari and Garrus moved into flanking positions, slipping behind rusting crates and scorched bulkheads, their weapons trained forward with disciplined precision.

From the half-shattered doorway up ahead came the shrill screeches of Vorcha and the harsh bark of Blue Suns rifles. The mercenary factions were locked in a savage firefight, utterly consumed by their mutual destruction. Another Vorcha scream abruptly ended in a wet, meaty thump followed by a sharp blast—the echoing concussion rattling loose panels and sending dust cascading from the ceiling vents.

Alexis knelt. Through the haze of smoke and firelight, she picked out the chaotic shapes ahead. “They’re too busy killing each other to notice us,” she murmured.

Garrus crouched beside her, his Mantis rifle cradled loosely as he observed the battle. “If the Vorcha are this deep into Blue Suns territory, they’ve really lost control. The plague’s working in the Blood Pack’s favor.” He clicked his mandibles together thoughtfully. “Never thought I’d see them pushed back like this without a major offensive.”

Mari’s voice came low and grim over the comms. “Vorcha don’t get the plague. Immune to damn near everything. The Blood Pack knows it. They’ve probably been herding infected civilians into Blue Suns strongholds, softening them up before the push.”

Alexis let out a quiet growl at that and shook her head. “Disgusting. But it’s working.”

She shifted her stance, rifle angled downward as she took a deep breath. “Let’s let them tear each other up a bit longer. No point wasting thermal clips if they’re doing the heavy lifting.”

Through their vantage point in the shadows, they observed the brutal rhythm of the conflict. Blue Suns mercs were pinned down behind makeshift barricades—overturned medical gurneys, cargo crates, and plasma-shield generators flickering with low power. They returned fire in tight bursts, trying to hold back the Vorcha swarming in with screeches and crude melee weapons raised high. The Vorcha moved like feral animals, darting in and out of cover, fearlessly hurling makeshift explosives.

One of them lobbed a firebomb—likely cobbled together from spare fuel cells—into a Blue Suns firing position. The resulting blast engulfed two mercs in flame, their screams piercing the cacophony and sending their comrades scrambling to a fallback point.

Mari tracked one of the fleeing Suns and sighted down her Vindicator, exhaling slowly before putting a round through his thigh, watching him collapse as another Vorcha pounced.

“Garrus, Mari—cover the right flank. Pick off anyone who tries to break away or flank us. Tali, with me. We’re going to move up the left side once they’ve torn each other down a bit more.”

Tali nodded sharply, eyes already scanning the path ahead with her omni-tool highlighting potential paths and cover points. Garrus gave a brief, grim chuckle. “Classic Shepard. Let the idiots shoot each other, then clean up the mess.”

Alexis grinned beneath her helmet, her voice hard. “Just like old times. Let’s make it count.”

With their roles assigned, the squad melted back into the shadows, letting the mercenaries bleed each other dry before they struck with swift and lethal precision.

The last of the Blue Suns had barely ducked behind cover when Alexis and her squad descended on the battlefield with swift, coordinated violence. The Valkyrie rifle in Alexis's hands barked short, controlled bursts as she moved, each shot punching through the weakened armor of a Blue Suns merc before he could even shout a warning.

Tali surged forward beside her, the echoing boom of her Claymore shotgun nearly deafening in the confined space. She dropped a Vorcha mid-sprint, the kinetic force of the slug launching its body against the far wall in a grotesque splash of blood and bone. Another tried to leap at her from above, but her follow-up shot tore the creature's chest open mid-air.

Mari moved with cold precision, sweeping through the side corridor with her Vindicator on burst-fire. A Vorcha lunged from the shadows with a snarl, only for Mari to pivot, drop to a knee, and put two rounds through its skull without hesitation. Her movements were smooth, lethal—a predator among scavengers.

Garrus hung back slightly, perched on a broken staircase with his Mantis rifle. Each crack of the sniper echoed like thunder, a punctuation mark on the chaos below. A Vorcha tried to retreat through a side exit, only for Garrus to put a round through its spine, dropping it instantly.

It was over in less than two minutes.

Smoke curled through the corridor as the last body fell. The stench of blood and scorched flesh mingled with the ever-present scent of rust and decay that saturated the quarantined zone. Alexis stepped over a dead merc, scanning the corridor with practiced calm before lowering her rifle.

"Clear," she called out.

One by one, the others echoed her.

Tali moved up beside Alexis, reloading her Claymore with a mechanical hiss. "They didn’t stand a chance."

Mari exhaled sharply. "Good. I’m tired of watching people like them use a crisis to carve out territory."

Garrus joined them, helmet off now as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Still, that was one hell of an ambush. We keep up that kind of teamwork, and this mission's going to be a lot less suicidal than I expected."

Alexis gave a faint, fierce smile behind her helmet. "Then let’s keep moving. Mordin’s close. Let’s get to him before someone else tries to slow us down."

The corridor beyond the skirmish was deathly quiet in comparison, the echo of their boots on the scorched metal floor the only sound for several steps. The air was thick with ash and the cloying stench of burned flesh, smoke curling from blackened piles of corpses stacked against bulkheads. Some of the bodies still wore the remnants of their lives—tattered uniforms, civilian coats, personal trinkets melted to the bone.

Mari moved ahead, her Vindicator rifle raised but relaxed. She was silent, her helmet tilting slightly to scan the corridor with each careful step. Alexis followed behind her, Tali close at her side, the soft hum of her environmental seals audible between steps. Garrus brought up the rear, his Mantis resting in a loose grip across his chest.

"Whoever did this," Tali muttered, voice quiet through the comms, "they didn't burn these people out of mercy."

Garrus made a soft noise of agreement. "It’s to stop the spread. Blue Suns protocol. If one person shows symptoms, the whole group gets sealed off."

Alexis didn’t reply. She had seen this kind of policy before—ruthless and clinical. Her jaw was tight behind the helmet. This wasn’t triage. This was eradication.

As they pressed deeper, the sounds changed. There was the clang of a door being forced open, the faint crack of glass shattering, voices whispering too low to make out clearly. Human voices. Looters.

Alexis raised a hand, signaling the others to stop. They tucked into cover, peering around a collapsed support strut and out into the hallway ahead.

Two figures moved in the distance, both human, both lightly armed and unarmored. One was prying open the door of a residential unit with a metal pipe while the other stood watch, glancing back and forth with twitchy unease. The one with the pipe finally popped the lock, and they slipped inside without hesitation.

"Scavengers," Mari said flatly.

"They know the plague doesn't affect them," Garrus added. "They don’t care who lived here. Just that they're not around anymore to stop them."

Alexis let out a quiet breath, more sigh than growl, her finger hovering just above the trigger of her Valkyrie. "We keep moving. Mordin's clinic is close, and every second we waste is another life lost. But if they try something stupid near us…"

"They won’t get the chance," Mari finished.

Without another word, the squad moved forward, the weight of Omega’s dead pressing in from all sides as they advanced deeper into the heart of the quarantine zone.

They soon reached the clinic. The entrance was guarded by a pair of humans—clearly not trained soldiers, just desperate civilians given rifles—and a few outdated LOKI mechs standing watch with idle optics. The place was a haven amidst the wreckage, but just barely. Inside, the clinic buzzed with a low, constant hum of desperation. Cramped rows of injured civilians filled the beds and benches, each groan and coughing fit a grim reminder of the plague's grip on Omega. Medics and nurses, some in patchwork armor or makeshift hazmat suits, darted from patient to patient trying to stabilize the worst cases.

The group stepped inside, weapons lowered but still ready. Alexis scanned the area with a tense eye, her helmet filtering out the worst of the smells. Garrus’s visor clicked as it sealed fully, while Tali adjusted the seals on her suit and Mari took position near the door, her stance subtly protective.

A flustered receptionist looked up from a terminal, eyes going wide at the sight of the well-armed newcomers. "Dr. Solus is in the back," she said quickly. "If you can help, please do. We need all the hands we can get."

They moved through the makeshift triage center, sidestepping wounded lying on mats and slumped against walls. Children cried in corners, and coughing filled the air like a background chorus.

Toward the rear of the clinic, they found a Salarian in a clean but stained lab coat standing over a Turian corpse on a gurney. Next to him stood a Turian in a full protective suit, face obscured. The two of them were deep in discussion with another clinic worker.

"Professor, we're running low on cipoxidin," the receptionist was saying.

"Use malanarin. Plenty on hand. Almost as good. Causes cramping in Batarians. Supplement with butemerol," Mordin replied swiftly.

"Malanarin and butemerol. Got it."

The receptionist left in a hurry, brushing past the squad. Mordin barely seemed to notice them as he continued speaking aloud, more to himself than anyone else. "Cenozine is the catalyst. Bonds to genetic markers. Hard to find. Expensive to mass produce. Why not heplacore? Too unstable. Inconsistent results. Demozane better option. No. Demozane toxic to humans. Not an option. Not an option."

Alexis stepped forward. "Professor Mordin Solus?"

Mordin turned abruptly, scanning them all with his omni-tool. "Hmm. Don’t recognize you from area. Too well-armed to be refugees. No mercenary uniform. Quarantine still in effect. Here for something else. Vorcha? Crew to clean them out? Unlikely. Vorcha a symptom, not a cause. The plague? Investigating possible use as a bio-weapon? No. No humans to survive exposure."

Alexis exchanged a look with Tali as Mordin continued his assessment. Behind them, the Turian medic took a step forward. The moment she recognized Garrus, she froze. Her voice broke through the room, fragile but sharp. "Garrus?"

Garrus blinked behind his visor, stunned. "Alpia?"

She closed the distance quickly, concern replacing her formal posture as she inspected the damaged section of his armour and the missing chunk. "I heard rumors... They said Archangel was dead. I thought you were--"

"Not dead. Just out of ammo," Garrus muttered with a dry chuckle. He leaned into her hand briefly. "But Archangel's done. Garrus Vakarian's all that's left."

Mordin turned from his body and immediately focused on the new dynamic. "You know them?" he asked Alpia.

She nodded. "Garrus Vakarian. These are his people."

"Mordin Solus," Garrus said with a tired gesture toward the Salarian. "Meet Commander Alexis'Shepard, Tali’Zorah, and Mari’Saalas."

Alexis nodded once. "We came looking for you, Professor. We need your help. There's a mission—urgent, critical, and only someone with your expertise has a shot at succeeding."

Mordin turned to face them more directly, waving his omni-tool as though swatting at the idea before they could finish presenting it. "Mission? What mission? No. Too busy. Clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast. Who sent you?"

Alexis stepped forward, her voice calm but urgent. "Ever heard of Cerberus? They pointed me toward you."

That gave Mordin pause. His eyes narrowed behind the flickering scan of his omni-tool. "Cerberus. Crossed paths on occasion. Unsavory methods. Thought they only worked with humans. Why request Salarian aid?"

Alexis nodded once, acknowledging the oddity. "Normally, yes. But I suspect they knew I wouldn’t work with an all-Cerberus crew. And more importantly, we’re after the Collectors. Colonies are vanishing—gone without a trace—and we believe the Collectors are involved. We need your help to develop a countermeasure to one of their weapons. We want to stop them."

At the mention of the Collectors, Mordin’s posture shifted. His expression tightened with scientific curiosity and something sharper—purpose. "Collectors. Hmm. Interesting. Plague in these slums is engineered. Precise. Efficient. Collectors among few groups capable of such design. Our goals may align. But priorities. Must stop plague first. Already have cure. Just need to distribute. Environmental control center. Vorcha are guarding it. Must eliminate resistance."

"We can deal with the Vorcha," Alexis assured him.

Before anyone could say more, a grinding screech echoed through the clinic—a deep mechanical groan followed by a silence that seemed to devour the ambient noise. Alexis felt it in her bones, in the sudden stillness of her suit’s sensors.

Tali’s hand went to her weapon instinctively. "That sounded like..."

Mari answered, voice grim. "Environmental systems. They've been shut down."

Mordin’s voice was suddenly all business, his words rapid and clipped. "Vorcha shutting down air circulation. Attempting mass suffocation. Crude but effective. Must restore power before systems fail. Here. Take plague cure." He handed Alexis a small case, the interface glowing with a pale blue light.

"One more thing," Mordin added quickly, turning back toward the medical equipment. "Daniel. One of my assistants. Entered Vorcha territory to aid victims. Hasn’t returned. Possibly captured. Possibly worse."

Alexis nodded. "We’ll keep an eye out for him."

Mordin hesitated for a brief moment. "Told him not to go. But bright future. Good heart. Hope he’s still alive."

With a glance toward the others, Alexis turned for the door, her voice firm. "Let’s move."

The squad fell into step, leaving the desperation of the clinic behind as they prepared to face the chaos of the slums. Whatever the Vorcha had planned, they were about to learn what it meant to stand between a mission and a Shepard.

The moment the clinic doors closed behind them, the noise returned—distant gunfire, the snarls and guttural shouts of Vorcha, the sputtering flicker of failing lights overhead. The air was still heavy with the stench of death and chemical fire, but now laced with something hotter: the thrill of battle.

"Contacts up ahead," Garrus called from behind his visor, already ducking behind the broken remains of a storefront. His Mantis rifle hummed to life in his hands, scope adjusting.

Alexis raised a hand for them to hold position. The Geth processes feeding data into her HUD pulsed with movement signatures. "Vorcha. Several squads. They're scattered, trying to flank us. Let's move before they get the chance."

Mari moved first, silent and sharp, her Vindicator already raised. She flowed from cover to cover, scanning arcs clear for Tali and Garrus.

"I swear, the more of them we kill, the more crawl out of the vents," Garrus muttered, taking a shot and dropping a shrieking Vorcha mid-sprint.

"They breed fast, but they die faster," Mari replied coolly, squeezing off a burst that sent another mercenary tumbling backward.

Tali stayed close to Alexis, the Claymore in her hands unleashing thunderclap after thunderclap. The recoil barely fazed her, and each shot was deliberate—every Vorcha that got too close found themselves sent flying by the sheer force.

"Cover right!" Alexis called, spinning and dropping two more Vorcha trying to climb the rubble. Tali stepped in beside her without missing a beat, her omni-tool flickering with a quick overload that dropped a Vorcha shield mid-charge.

"You two have been working on that move," Garrus noted, impressed as he downed another from a distance.

"Had some practice," Tali replied, a smile audible in her voice.

Alexis grinned behind her helmet, the tension in her shoulders easing for a moment as the squad moved in sync. They'd trained together, fought together, bled together. There was a rhythm to it now—each one anticipating the other's actions.

As the last of this wave of Vorcha fell, screaming and thrashing, Mari stepped over a corpse and scanned the corridor ahead.

"Clear for now. But more coming, I can hear them down the tunnels."

Alexis reloaded her Valkyrie and nodded. "Then let them come. We'll keep clearing the path to the environmental controls. No one suffocates on our watch."

"Agreed," Garrus said, cracking his neck. "Besides, nothing like a good scrap to get the blood flowing."

"Quarians have better ways to feel alive, Garrus," Tali quipped.

"Yeah," Alexis added with a snort, "like staying alive."

Their laughter echoed down the dark corridor as they pressed forward, ready for the next wave.

As the squad pushed deeper into the slums, the stench of rot and smoke grew thicker with every step. Burnt-out dwellings, collapsed supports, and flickering overhead lights gave the area the feel of a warzone frozen mid-collapse.

The crackle of distant gunfire echoed, but something else made Alexis hold up a fist. Everyone froze.

A voice. Human. From a nearby room.

Alexis crept forward and signaled for the squad to stack up on either side of the door—two on each side. Mari and Garrus on the left, Tali with Alexis on the right. Her fingers counted down silently. Three. Two. One. She tapped the control panel. The door slid open with a hiss, but they didn’t enter yet.

Inside, a human man in a medical outfit was backed up against the wall. One of three Batarians had him by the collar, the other two flanking him with weapons drawn.

"Please... I'm telling you the truth! I work for Mordin at the clinic. I came here to help you," the human said, his voice shaking. Likely Daniel, the assistant Mordin had mentioned.

"We know you're spreading the plague. We saw the vials in your bag," the lead Batarian growled.

"No! Those vials contain the cure! Please... you have to believe me!" Daniel begged.

The Batarian sneered, tightening his grip. "Maybe we should cut off your fingers. That should loosen your—"

"Boss! We got company!" the second Batarian shouted, spotting movement at the door.

Too late.

Alexis breached, the Valkyrie raised. The Batarian who had been holding Daniel went for his weapon, but he didn’t get the chance. Alexis squeezed the trigger and stitched a burst through his chest, sending him sprawling.

Tali and Mari followed in perfect sync. Mari put down the second Batarian with a controlled burst from her Vindicator, while Tali stepped in close and blasted the third with her Claymore. The room went from chaos to silence in seconds.

The three Batarian corpses lay sprawled on the ground.

"Oh my god! You murdered them!" Daniel cried out, eyes wide with horror.

Alexis turned to him, her tone flat but firm. "We saved you from getting tortured or killed, kid."

Daniel shook his head, his voice cracking. "This... this is wrong! Wait until Mordin hears about this!"

With that, he turned and fled, stumbling over debris in his hurry to get back to the clinic.

Garrus gave a small huff. "That guy's in the wrong part of Omega."

Mari checked her weapon, unphased. "If he'd waited much longer, he wouldn't have had fingers to wave at us."

Alexis turned toward the corridor ahead. "Let’s keep moving. We’ve got a cure to deploy and a district to save."

They pushed deeper into the quarantined slums, their path littered with the bodies of Vorcha who had underestimated just how coordinated and relentless their squad was. Alexis led from the front, her Valkyrie rifle raised and ready. Tali kept tight to her left flank, her new Claymore shotgun humming with power. Garrus covered their backs with calm, methodical shots from his Mantis sniper rifle, while Mari swept corners ahead with her Vindicator.

The Vorcha came in waves, often more shrieking than strategizing. They rushed in groups, but their lack of tactics and wild overconfidence were their downfall. The squad worked like a well-oiled machine, each member falling into a rhythm that spoke of trust and familiarity.

"You'd think after the first dozen they'd figure out charging head-on isn't a good idea," Garrus muttered between shots.

"Vorcha don't exactly top the charts on learning curve," Tali replied, her voice dry with amusement.

"If they did," Mari added, ducking a wild shot before putting down the source, "they might still be alive."

Alexis gave a short laugh, never taking her eyes off the corridor ahead. "Let 'em keep trying. Just gives us more space to move."

They continued, stepping over collapsed scaffolding and twisted metal, until they reached a set of tall double doors with flickering neon blue letters above them that read: Ventilation Control .

Tali took a step forward, glancing at her HUD. "We should be getting close. Let’s get the cure in and bring the fans back online."

They all nodded, expressions tightening into grim focus as they moved up the stairs beyond the doors. The banter faded slightly, replaced by silent determination. There was a mission to complete, and the cure to distribute. The people trapped here were counting on them.

Behind them, the Vorcha howls echoed faintly, but they didn't stop. Not now. Not when they were this close to saving hundreds of lives.

As they stepped through the next door, the squad barely had a chance to adjust to the harsh red emergency lights when a Vorcha lunged forward from the shadows. Unlike the others they had fought, this one wasn’t armed—at least not with a weapon. Its jagged teeth bared and hunched posture aggressive, it raised its clawed hands in a threat display as it snarled.

"You no come here!" it hissed. "We shut down machines, break fans! Everyone choke and die! Then Collectors make us strong!"

Alexis blinked once, the words barely processing before she sighed and gave the Vorcha a deadpan look behind her visor. "You really are an idiot."

The Vorcha screeched, spittle flying from its needle-sharp teeth. "Collectors want plague! You work for doctor, turn on machines, put cure in air. We kill you first!"

The other Vorcha in the room didn’t wait for more shouting. With a screeching war cry, several of them burst from behind broken consoles and scattered debris, weapons raised. The squad responded instantly.

Alexis ducked into cover behind a half-melted control panel, her Valkyrie rifle barking short, controlled bursts. To her right, Garrus had already snapped into firing position, his Mantis roaring as he dropped one of the charging Vorcha mid-leap with a clean shot to the throat.

"They just keep coming!" Garrus called out, shifting position to get a better angle.

"They're aggressive, not clever," Mari muttered over the squad comms, her voice calm as she lined up a shot with her Vindicator and took out another Vorcha trying to flank them. "Push them too hard, they scatter."

Tali let out a short breath, her Claymore booming as she blasted a Vorcha into the far wall. "I still hate fighting them. They smell terrible, and they never shut up."

Alexis chuckled grimly. "Then let’s shut them up."

They advanced together, moving in a seamless formation, clearing out the remaining Vorcha in the room with precise and methodical efficiency. The final two Vorcha tried to flee, but Mari took one down with a clean shot through the back and Tali, moving with practiced grace, flanked the other and fired point-blank.

With the room cleared and the echo of gunfire fading into the background hum of failing ventilation, Alexis stood and did a quick sweep of the area. The air was thick and stale, the kind of heaviness that made her glad for her helmet’s filtration.

"Alright," she said, glancing to Tali. "Let’s get the cure into the system. Time to undo the damage these lunatics caused."

With the Vorcha corpses still steaming on the ground behind them, the squad advanced across the room. The scent of scorched flesh and ozone still clung to the air, mixing with the sickly traces of the engineered plague that had plagued this sector. At the far end, tucked into a small alcove beneath a flickering wall panel, lay the environmental control terminal.

Mari and Garrus instinctively moved ahead of the group, taking up flanking positions behind makeshift barriers of broken crates and toppled metal shelving. Garrus sighted down the length of his Mantis rifle, already scanning for more incoming hostiles, while Mari took a lower position, switching to her Vindicator and bracing it tight against her shoulder.

"Go," Mari called back to Alexis and Tali without looking. "We’ll hold them. Get that cure in the system."

Alexis nodded and activated her comms. "EDI, fan status?"

The AI’s cool synthetic voice crackled in her ear. "Confirmed: environmental fans offline. I have located two separate control stations positioned on opposite sides of the ventilation control room. You will need to reactivate both to fully restore air circulation."

"Copy that," Alexis muttered. "Tali, let's get the cure in."

They darted from cover just as the first wave of fresh Vorcha stormed into the room through a side corridor. The shrieking creatures opened fire with scavenged rifles and flamethrowers, forcing Mari and Garrus to lay down suppressive fire. Blue-white flashes of sniper rounds and the rhythmic bursts of the Vindicator echoed through the chamber.

Alexis and Tali sprinted toward the central environmental control terminal nestled in the alcove. Tali slid into position and activated her omni-tool, running quick diagnostics to bypass the lockdown on the system. Alexis followed close behind, retrieving the canister of airborne cure Mordin had given them.

"Ready," Tali confirmed, glancing back toward the entrance.

Alexis slotted the canister into the dispersal unit. Her omni-tool interfaced with the terminal, locking the device in place as the system confirmed installation. Lights flickered from red to green as the cure was recognized and primed for ventilation.

"Cure inserted," Alexis said. "Let’s move to the fan controls next. EDI, mark our path."

"Acknowledged," the AI responded. "Left-side control room is nearest. Route displayed on HUD."

"Tali, with me," Alexis ordered.

They darted again, weaving between cover. As they reached the far-left doorway, a cluster of Vorcha defenders scrambled to intercept them.

Alexis didn't slow. She dropped into a low slide, her armor's undersuit thrusters flaring just enough to carry her cleanly under a hail of gunfire. Her Valkyrie rifle barked in short, brutal bursts, each one punching clean through enemy armor. Blood sprayed against the wall as the frontmost Vorcha collapsed.

Tali moved with her, her Claymore shotgun roaring like thunder. Each blast from the heavy weapon threw Vorcha off their feet, the massive kinetic force leaving only crumpled corpses in her wake. She moved with practiced, brutal efficiency—a perfect contrast to Alexis’ surgical bursts of fire.

They breached the side room and cleared it in moments.

"Clear!" Alexis shouted, already moving to the first fan control panel.

Tali nodded, breathless but focused. "I’ll secure the door. Let’s get this place breathing again."

Across the room, Mari and Garrus continued to hold the line as more Vorcha poured into the chamber, unaware that the tide was about to turn.

As soon as the first bank of fans whirred to life and the control panel lit up green, Alexis gave Tali a curt nod. Without missing a beat, they pivoted and began a sprint through the thick of the firefight. Rounds snapped through the air around them, some ricocheting off the scorched metal of nearby crates and support beams. The noise was deafening—Vorcha screeches, gunfire, and the rhythmic pulse of Mari's and Garrus's suppressive fire echoing off the walls.

Alexis ducked low, her breath steady despite the chaos. Her Quarian-style armor absorbed a few glancing hits, the shields flaring briefly before stabilizing. Tali was right beside her, moving like a shadow with her shotgun tucked tight against her shoulder.

"Almost there!" Alexis called, vaulting over a collapsed vent shaft. The far-side access terminal was in sight, situated in a partially-collapsed alcove protected by a barricade of scorched furniture and what looked like a burned-out LOKI mech chassis. A cluster of Vorcha had taken up defensive positions there, hissing and barking as they spotted the approaching pair.

Tali moved first, bringing her shotgun up and unloading with a sharp crack of kinetic energy. The lead Vorcha disappeared in a splash of red and armor fragments. Alexis followed up, firing controlled bursts from her Valkyrie. The last two defenders barely had time to return fire before they were dropped with ruthless efficiency.

They slid into the alcove as another wave of heat and noise rolled over them. Alexis knelt beside the control panel, her fingers already dancing across her omni-tool interface. Sparks popped from the aging terminal as it booted up. "Starting reactivation. Tali, hold the line!"

"On it!" Tali snapped, planting herself near the narrow opening and leveling her Claymore with quiet fury.

Behind them, Mari's voice crackled through the comms. "You're almost clear. Garrus is thinning the herd. I'll cover your flank. Just finish it!"

"We're on it," Alexis said, the control panel's interface flickering as she bypassed the final sequence.

With a mechanical groan, the fans overhead rumbled to life. A cold draft surged through the facility, the sound of circulating air almost alien after the stifling stillness. Lights on the terminal glowed green. The system beeped confirmation: FANS ENGAGED.

Alexis leaned back, breath heavy. Tali glanced at her, the two of them exchanging a weary but satisfied look.

"That's it," Alexis said. "The cure's in the air. We just saved a lot of people."

Tali offered a small, tired smile. "And shut down one more Collector plan."

Outside the alcove, the sounds of battle were already starting to fade.

"Let's get back to Professor Solus, and out of here," Mari said.

~

The squad made their way back through the now-clearing streets of the quarantined sector. The air was different. Still thick with the remnants of smoke and plague, but already the first hints of cleaner circulation could be felt through their helmets. The filtration systems were doing their work.

Inside the clinic, they found Mordin hunched over a bank of monitors, Daniel standing to the side with a datapad, and Alpia reviewing readings on a portable scanner.

"Environmental systems engaged. Airborne levels dropping. Patients improving. Vorcha retreating. Well done, Shepard. Thank you," Mordin said as he tapped several commands into the console with his omni-tool, his voice sharp but genuinely appreciative.

Daniel’s head snapped up, disbelief on his face. "How can you thank these... monsters? They butchered those Batarians in cold blood!"

Alexis stiffened. The word hit harder than it should have. Even knowing the Batarians had been seconds away from torturing Daniel, something in her flinched. Her grip on her Valkyrie tightened instinctively. A flicker of doubt pulsed from the Geth routines assisting her HUD, almost like concern.

Tali, standing close, noticed. She reached out and gently took Alexis’s hand in her own, squeezing it with quiet strength. A private text blinked on Alexis’s HUD: "You are not a monster. I love you."

Mari’s voice cut through the tension. "We saved your life from those Batarians. You’d be dead if we hadn’t stepped in."

"She is right," Mordin added, not even looking up from his console. "Batarians tortured you. Would have killed you. Right to kill them. Necessary."

Daniel looked completely stunned. "Professor? How can you say that? You're a doctor. You believe in helping people."

Mordin finally turned, eyes narrowing slightly. "Lots of ways to help people. Sometimes heal patients. Sometimes execute dangerous threats. Both help the whole."

Alpia stepped forward then, voice calm and clinical. "It’s no different than removing diseased cells from a body. Leave them, they’ll spread and kill the host. Take them out, the system survives."

Mordin nodded. "Exactly. Well put."

Daniel looked as if he wanted to argue but found no words. Instead, he dropped his gaze and moved toward the back room.

"Go check on patients," Mordin told him, softening slightly. "Lots of work to do. Think about what I said."

When the door slid shut behind Daniel, Mordin turned back to the squad. "Good kid. Bit naive. He’ll learn. I’m leaving him in charge of the clinic. Should be able to manage now that the Vorcha are gone."

Alexis gave a short nod. "Sounds like a good plan. Are you ready to help us stop the Collectors?"

Mordin’s eyes gleamed behind his visor. "Yes. Unexpected to be working with Cerberus. Many surprises. But mission aligns. Collectors dangerous. Important to stop them. Just need to finish up here. Will meet you at your ship shortly. Looking forward to it."

With that, the squad turned to leave the clinic, each of them knowing the true battle was still to come.

~

Back on the Normandy, the ship thrummed with the low vibration of preflight systems cycling up, the gentle hum running through the deck plates like the heartbeat of a living thing. Status lights blinked across consoles, and technicians finished their checks as the ship prepared to depart Omega. In the hangar bay, the loading ramp sealed shut behind Mordin Solus and Alpia, the soft hiss of hydraulics marking their official arrival aboard.

Both newcomers paused at the threshold, eyes adjusting to the sterile lighting and polished corridors. The Normandy SR-2 was sleek, pristine, and entirely unlike the worn and chaotic clinic they had just left. Alpia glanced around with a medic’s cautious curiosity, while Mordin’s gaze snapped from one detail to the next with the rapid precision of a mind already racing through possibilities.

"Welcome aboard the Normandy," Jacob said as he approached, offering a firm handshake to Mordin. "We’re honoured to have you here, Professor."

"Yes, yes. Very exciting," Mordin replied, his tone clipped and enthusiastic. He returned the handshake with a brief, almost mechanical grip, already peering around the corridor. "Cerberus working with aliens. Unexpected. Illusive Man branching out, perhaps? Not so human-centric? Atypical behavior. Unusual but not illogical under duress."

A voice cut in before Jacob could reply. "Cerberus is still very much Cerberus," Alexis said, stepping into view. She stood with her arms crossed, her red and black armour catching the glow of the overhead lights. Her helmet remained sealed, the faint distortion of her voice a reminder of her Quarian-modified systems. "But colonies are vanishing on the fringes of the Terminus Systems. People are disappearing without a trace, and Cerberus is clearly out of its depth. So here we are, their best—and only—option."

Mordin tilted his head thoughtfully, his eyes twitching in silent calculation. "Logical. Desperation breeds adaptability. Opportunistic collaboration. Fascinating dynamics."

Jacob, ever the diplomat, tried to ease the growing tension. "There’s virtually no trace left at the sites. No blood, no bodies—nothing. Just empty homes, still warm meals, and silence. It’s as if entire towns just stopped."

"Gas, maybe? No—spreads too slow. Airborne virus? Slower still. No visible signs of struggle, implies incapacitation without resistance," Mordin mused aloud, his mind clearly working through every viable hypothesis at lightning speed.

Alexis raised a hand to redirect him. "We don’t need to start from zero. We collected data from Freedom’s Progress. It's already been uploaded to your lab. I want you to analyze it and find out how the Collectors did this, how they’re doing it."

"Yes. Excellent. Preexisting data, good foundation," Mordin said, nodding to himself. He turned slightly as if to leave, then paused as a smooth synthetic voice chimed in over the comm system.

"Your laboratory is fully equipped on the combat deck, Professor Solus. If you require any additional tools or upgrades, please place a requisition order."

Mordin’s eyes narrowed with interest, a gleam sparking in their depths. "Who's that? Not pilot. Voice lacks stress markers. Synthetic cadence. Simulated emotional variance. Could it be...? Yes. Must be. AI?"

Alexis sighed under her breath. "Yeah. Cerberus-installed AI. Her name’s EDI. Still adjusting to having her around."

"Curious. Quarian Captain cohabiting with artificial intelligence. Cerberus allowing it. Discomfort evident. Desperation confirmed. Very intriguing," Mordin said, almost to himself. Then, louder, "Where is the lab?"

"Follow me, Professor," Jacob said, already turning to guide him.

As Mordin and Jacob headed down one corridor, Garrus appeared at the opposite end with Alpia walking quietly beside him. He gently guided her forward, his hand resting against the small of her back.

"Come on," Garrus said. "You’ll want to meet Chakwas. She’s the ship’s chief medical officer. You’ll be working closely with her."

Alpia nodded, still taking everything in. Her gaze lingered on Garrus, concern and affection evident in her expression even behind her visor. "I still can’t believe you’re alive, Garrus. Every report said you were dead. I was terrified."

Garrus gave a faint smile, his mandibles twitching with restrained emotion. "Yeah... so was I. But I’m here. And I’m glad you are too."

As they walked on, the ship continued to hum beneath their feet—ready to jump, ready to fight, ready to uncover whatever mystery lay ahead.

 

Chapter 25: XXV

Summary:

Normandy memorial and the Master Thief

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXV

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Alexis and Tali sat together in the softly lit calm of the Captain’s quarters, the stars outside the Normandy's viewports streaking silently by in long, thin lines of light. The gentle hum of the ship's systems filled the room with a low, soothing ambience, like a heartbeat that anchored them in the vast, lonely ocean of space. It was one of the rare moments they allowed themselves to fully relax since their journey had begun, even if neither could completely push away the heavy thoughts of their next mission.

Alexis had her legs curled beneath her on the couch, one hand working carefully with a needle and thread as she practiced her embroidery, trying to steady her fingers—and her mind. She wore only her soft black undersuit, unsealed and loose around her frame, offering a rare sense of physical freedom. Her armour sat nearby on a low table, carefully disassembled for minor maintenance, awaiting their next deployment.

Beside her, Tali nestled into her side, her head resting comfortably against Alexis’s shoulder. She too had removed her helmet and unsealed her suit, her warm skin pressed intimately to Alexis’s, a silent reminder of trust and devotion. Alexis instinctively tilted her head to rest lightly against Tali’s, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of her.

The holographic screen ahead of them flickered with the opening scenes of Fleet and Flotilla: Extended Edition . The musical's theatrical overture filled the room—sweeping orchestral chords woven with Keelah-inspired harmonics and the martial cadence of Turian percussion. It was absurdly dramatic, beautifully produced, and impossibly endearing—a story of love between a Quarian pilgrim and a Turian soldier, overcoming impossible odds. It had been their shared favourite for years.

Alexis hummed softly along with the opening number, her voice low, melodic, and roughened slightly by the emotions she kept bottled up. Each note was a balm, helping to soothe the tight knot forming in her chest. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow—about returning to the SR-1 wreckage, to the place she had died—but the thoughts crept in with every breath she took.

Tali could feel it too, the way Alexis's shoulders were just a little too tight, the way her stitching hand trembled ever so slightly. She said nothing, simply moving closer, wrapping one arm around Alexis's waist and letting her thumb lightly trace comforting circles on the back of Alexis’s hand. Her presence was a wordless vow: I'm here. You're not alone.

The stitching was slow but steady. Alexis had chosen a deep violet thread for her personal symbol, a flowing design of curves and lines that mirrored the markings already on Tali’s shawl. It was meaningful beyond the cloth and thread; it was a promise stitched into something tangible, a thread tying them together through whatever battles lay ahead.

She paused once to glance at her progress, her eyes moving from the delicate embroidery to Tali’s gentle, patient face. For a moment, the galaxy outside, the SR-1, Cerberus, everything else faded away.

"It’s not perfect," Alexis murmured, her voice thick with love and guilt and gratitude.

Tali tilted her face up, her glowing eyes soft and steady. "It doesn’t have to be perfect," she whispered. "It’s yours. That makes it perfect."

Alexis gave a small, tender smile, and unable to resist the pull between them, she leaned forward to press her forehead lightly against Tali’s. They stayed like that, sharing breath and heartbeats.

"I’m glad you’re here," Alexis said after a long moment, her voice shaking slightly. "I don’t know if I could do this alone."

Tali’s fingers slid up to cup Alexis’s cheek, her touch feather-light yet grounding. "You’ll never have to."

In the background, the swelling chorus of the musical carried on, two voices singing of impossible odds, of a love defying galaxies. In that moment, neither Alexis nor Tali had any doubt that whatever came next, they would face it together.

The room seemed to exist outside of time. Just for a little while, Alexis allowed herself to believe that the war, the missions, the looming weight of what was to come—all of it—had been left behind somewhere between the stars. Here, in the soft sanctuary of her quarters, there was only the gentle pressure of Tali curled against her, the hum of the Normandy cradling them both, and the steady, grounding feeling of love that bound them tighter than anything else in the galaxy.

Tali shifted slightly, her hand sliding from Alexis’s palm to rest flat against her chest, right over the slow, steady beat of Alexis’s heart. Alexis set aside her embroidery, no longer able to pretend she could focus on it, and let her arms wrap fully around Tali’s waist, pulling her closer, breathing her in like she was the only thing keeping her soul tethered to reality.

Tali tilted her face up, her violet eyes shimmering in the low light, the glow of the stars outside catching the delicate patterns of her bioluminescent freckles. "You’re thinking too loudly again," she said with a teasing softness, her voice brushing against Alexis’s soul like a warm breeze across still waters.

Alexis gave a breath of laughter, low and almost voiceless, a sound that cracked under the weight of the emotions she carried. "You always know."

"Because it’s you," Tali whispered fiercely. "I can feel when something's weighing you down. Like gravity."

Alexis closed her eyes for a moment, tightening her hold on Tali, feeling the slender warmth of her body pressed so trustingly against her own. For a few heartbeats she simply existed in the feeling—Tali’s warmth, her scent, the little vibrations of her breath against her skin, the way her thumb idly stroked slow circles into her side. But the thoughts clawed their way back, unwanted yet persistent, dragging the cold realities of her existence back into the fragile peace.

"It’s the Geth," Alexis admitted finally, her voice just above a whisper. "What’s… inside me. I know they helped—they saved lives on Omega—but... I can’t stop thinking about it. About how easy it would be for them to... change. To use me."

Tali didn’t pull away. She pressed closer, their foreheads resting together, her hand lifting to cradle the back of Alexis’s neck with tender fingers. "I understand," she said. And she did. If anyone could, it was her—the Quarian who had spent her life living with the consequences of the Geth uprising, who knew both the fear and the hope tangled up in synthetic life.

"I trust you," Alexis whispered, her hands trembling slightly where they held Tali. "But I don’t know if I trust what Cerberus did to me. I don’t know if I trust... myself."

Tali’s fingers gently brushed along Alexis’s jawline, grounding her. "Then trust me," she said simply, her voice steady with unshakable resolve. "I will never let them take you from me. Not Cerberus. Not the Geth. No one. We'll face it together. We always have."

Alexis pulled back enough to look into Tali’s eyes, searching them desperately—and found there the fierce devotion and boundless love that had anchored her so many times already. A soft, broken sound escaped her—something halfway between a sob and a laugh—and she kissed Tali with all the aching gratitude, love, and fear knotted up inside her chest.

The kiss deepened, slow and steady, a silent vow exchanged between them. When they finally parted, foreheads still pressed together, Alexis breathed, "For tonight, I’ll believe in that promise."

Tali smiled, tender and fierce all at once. "Then we have forever to prove it."

And in that fragile, perfect moment, Alexis let herself believe.

~

The Normandy held steady in orbit above Alchera, the frozen planet casting pale reflections across her hull like ghostly fingers reaching up from the icy void. Down below, the jagged silhouette of the SR-1's shattered remains lay scattered across the snow and ice. A silent tomb to memories, to loss, to the crew that had given everything.

Inside the Kodiak shuttle, the mood was somber, cloaked in a heavy quiet. Alexis sat between Garrus and Tali, her helmet resting lightly against the side window as she stared at the growing shape of the crash site below. None of them spoke. Words didn’t seem to fit what this meant. This wasn’t a mission. It was remembrance. It was grief given form, wrapped in frost and time.

The shuttle swept low, circling over the ruins of the ship. From above, parts of the SR-1 were still recognizable—the wings, warped and shattered like broken bones; the tail section burst open like a ruptured organ. Time and storms had buried much of the hull, but enough remained to paint the outline of what once was a marvel of engineering. The Kodiak touched down on the edge of what had once been the midsection.

The hatch hissed open and cold, dry air rushed in. Alexis stepped out first, the crunch of snow beneath her boots sharp in the still air. Tali followed closely, her hand brushing Alexis’ arm, grounding them both in this surreal moment. Garrus brought up the rear, his visor reflecting the pale light off the snow as his eyes swept the wreckage.

They moved slowly, reverently, their weapons stowed and their helmets sealed against the bitter cold. The first stop was what remained of the crew and dining area. The metal here was twisted and blackened, collapsed beams casting sharp shadows. Burn marks scarred the walls. Within minutes, they spotted the first dog tags—small metal rectangles half-submerged in snow. Alexis crouched to pick one up, her gloved fingers brushing away frost.

"Private Raymond Tanaka," she read softly, her voice heavy with memory.

They pressed forward, following the path of wreckage. The remains of the sleeping pod section lay some distance away, completely separated from the dining area by a ragged trench in the ice. Crossing took time and care, and the silence between them held steady—wordless understanding anchoring them as they continued.

Near the fragmented edges of the pods, they recovered more tags, more names. Alexis knelt in the snow, her breath fogging her visor, as she whispered each name they found. Tali muttered soft prayers in Khelish with every recovery. Garrus said nothing, but his posture stiffened with every tag.

They came to the Mako transport, its massive frame cracked and leaning at an angle, half-swallowed by the ice. Two more tags lay buried in the drift beside it. Garrus retrieved one, brushing it clean with careful fingers. Alexis placed the other into the growing collection clipped safely to her belt.

Eventually, they reached what remained of the Command Information Center—the bridge. The heart of the ship. Alexis paused at the threshold, frozen not by the cold but by the memory. The rush of alarms. The shaking deck. Her frantic sprint to Joker. The moment the ship had died.

Tali reached out, squeezing her hand through their gloves. "Lexi."

Alexis exhaled and nodded. Together, they stepped inside.

Amid shattered consoles and the warped remnants of the bridge, another dog tag glinted faintly in the snow. Nearby, a cracked datapad lay half-buried under a broken support strut. Garrus retrieved it and handed it to Alexis. The screen flickered, distorted, but still held fragments of log entries.

"Too many non-Alliance personnel aboard. Don’t trust them. Especially that Quarian girl. Not sure why Shepard keeps them so close."

Alexis winced but continued reading.

The final entry glowed faintly:

"I was wrong. The crew is the finest I’ve ever served with. Shepard knew what she was doing. Without them… without her, we never would’ve saved the Citadel. I’m proud to serve on the Normandy. Proud to serve under her."

Alexis closed her eyes, the datapad pressed to her chest for a long moment. The wind outside howled like a distant echo.

"We should build it here," she said at last. "The memorial. Right here, at the heart. This was the soul of the ship. It deserves to rest here."

She brought up her omni-tool and marked the location, fingers trembling only slightly. Garrus and Tali stood on either side of her, saying nothing, just standing with her in quiet solidarity. Around them, the wind whispered through twisted beams, and the shattered walls of the Normandy SR-1 bore silent witness to the memory of a crew that had mattered.

They would not be forgotten.

As they left the broken shell of the CIC behind, the trio moved carefully through the icy wind toward the final target of their visit: the long-dormant SOS beacon. Somewhere amidst the wreckage, the emergency signal had gone silent years ago, buried under snow, ice, and the weight of loss.

Snow crunched underfoot, the only sound aside from the occasional groan of stressed metal beneath the glacier. They moved in a wide line, scanning the area not just for the beacon, but for anything else that might be worth salvaging—a piece of memory, a token of the lives lost here.

It was Alexis who paused first, something catching her eye among the glimmering shards of ice. At first, it looked like another half-buried chunk of plating, forgotten and twisted by the crash. But the shape was wrong. Too curved. Too familiar.

Her breath caught. She stepped forward slowly, each motion deliberate. Tali and Garrus noticed her sudden stillness and turned back, watching as she knelt down.

Alexis reached out, brushing snow away with shaking fingers until the object came free.

Her old helmet.

The red and black paint was scratched and faded, the familiar Alliance markings barely visible under layers of ash and time. A jagged crack split the visor from forehead to cheek, and one side of the casing was scorched, melted slightly from fire. But it was hers. The one she had been wearing when she had run through the ship trying to save her crew. The one that should have died with her.

A sharp breath escaped her lips, fogging the air inside her new visor. Her hands trembled slightly as she turned it over in her hands, snow clinging to its edges. The weight of it in her palms was heavier than it should have been. Heavier with memory.

Tali approached slowly, crouching beside her, her hand resting lightly on Alexis's back. "Lexi?"

"This was mine," Alexis said quietly. Her voice cracked through the comms. "It was on me when the blast hit. When I died."

Garrus said nothing, standing nearby with his head slightly bowed.

For a moment, Alexis didn’t move. She simply stared at the fractured reflection of herself in the shattered visor.

"You came back," Tali whispered. "And you’re not alone."

Alexis gave a shaky nod. She carefully clipped the helmet to her side, pressing it close to her hip like something sacred.

And then, with one last look at the icy graveyard around them, she turned and kept walking. Toward the beacon. Toward closure.

The air grew colder as the squad pressed further through the skeletal remains of the SR-1. Alexis led the way, her breath fogging inside her sealed helmet, the wind biting even through her suit. The shattered remains of the Normandy's cockpit loomed ahead, framed by twisted beams and scorched metal. They walked through the fractured hallway, still lined with charred workstations, wires dangling like veins from torn bulkheads. The roof above them had been torn away, one of the colossal beams from the opening volley of the Collector attack having split it wide open.

As they stepped into the cockpit ruins, Alexis paused beside the command console. There, half-buried in the ice and rubble, was the final dog tag they had been sent to recover. She knelt to retrieve it, brushing away frost with gentle fingers as if afraid to disturb the memory it represented. Her HUD confirmed what she already knew: 20 recovered, none left. The mission was complete.

Yet Alexis didn’t move.

Her gaze swept over the cockpit, haunted by flashes of memory—of alarms blaring, metal groaning, Joker refusing to leave his post. Her hand moved instinctively to the side of the room, her eyes catching on a familiar shape partially covered in snow and shattered console glass.

It was the Normandy’s commissioning plaque.

Alexis dropped to one knee again and slowly unearthed it. The metal was scratched, dented, and one corner had broken clean off, but the engraving was still legible: a rendering of the Normandy in profile, and underneath it, etched with pride: NORMANDY SR-1. The official seal of the Systems Alliance rested just below the name.

She ran her gloved fingers over the engraving. This wasn’t just a piece of metal. This was the spirit of her ship, the identity of a vessel that had defied the odds and held together through some of the darkest moments of the war. The Normandy had carried them into battle, had brought them home—until it couldn’t anymore.

It didn’t deserve to be left behind.

She stood, tucking the plaque securely in her satchel, the weight of it grounding her. She turned then, her eyes drawn to the piece of hull plating still attached to the side of the wreck, its once-shining paint now dulled with ash and ice. The word was still visible, though weathered: NORMANDY.

Her fingers traced the edge of the nameplate as her breath caught in her throat. Garrus and Tali instinctively hung back, understanding this moment wasn’t theirs to share unless invited. Alexis stood alone before it.

Her first command. Her first home after leaving Mari. Her ship.

She felt the ache deepen in her chest, a weight that had sat just behind her ribs since the day the Normandy burned. The SR-1 had been more than steel and firepower. It had been hers. They had tried to take her away from it once before—grounded her, questioned her judgment. But she had fought to stay aboard. To protect it.

And now all that remained was a ruin, resting silent and forgotten on a frozen, lifeless world.

Alexis raised a hand to the nameplate, resting her palm against it.

She switched to Khelish, the words spoken softly, intimately, her voice unshaking but drenched in emotion. "Ve'shalan nar vas Normandy. Tasi'se ket vas nor. Tal ve'la, tal shala."

She closed her eyes. "You carried us farther than anyone expected. You held together when others would have broken. You were more than a ship. You were family."

There was no ceremony. No applause. Just a final goodbye.

She turned from the hull slowly, only to find Tali beside her, silent and strong. Alexis reached for her hand, their fingers lacing together.

Garrus stood at the shuttle ramp, waiting. No words were spoken. They didn’t need to be.

The three of them boarded the Kodiak together, the ramp hissing closed behind them. As the shuttle rose into the stormy Alchera sky, the wreckage of the SR-1 grew smaller beneath them. A grave. A legacy. A beginning that had led to everything they were now.

Shepard didn’t look back.

~

The shuttle settled into the hangar bay with a low whine, steam curling around the landing struts as the ramp hissed open. Alexis stepped off first, still clad in her armor, the plaque of the Normandy SR-1 tucked under one arm and her old helmet—cracked and worn—held gently at her side. Garrus and Tali followed close behind, their expressions solemn, the weight of memory and loss etched into every step.

But they weren’t alone.

A full Cerberus marine honor guard stood at attention, lined in pristine formation down the length of the hangar. Their black-and-white armor gleamed under the bright overhead lights, polished to an immaculate finish. Each soldier stood rigid, silent, helmets held respectfully under their arms or worn with faceplates dimmed. At the front stood Miranda and Jacob, both in formal dress uniforms, crisp and exact. Miranda gave a precise nod as Alexis descended the ramp.

Alexis came to a halt at the base of the Kodiak, pausing as her eyes swept over the assembled soldiers. She had expected only a quiet return, maybe a few engineers or deck crew to receive the dog tags. She hadn’t expected this—full honors. A moment of reverence. A moment of unity.

"This was arranged while you were planetside," Miranda said softly, stepping forward. "They might wear Cerberus colors, but a lot of them were Alliance once. Some of them served on the SR-1. Others lost friends who did."

Jacob added, his voice low and sure, "There might not be bodies to bury, but you brought back their names. You brought them home. That counts."

Alexis glanced across the line. She saw subtle signs of emotion beneath stoic armor—tightened grips, the twitch of a jaw, the bow of a head. These weren’t cold agents. These were people. Soldiers. Brothers and sisters in arms.

A long table had been arranged in the center of the hangar, draped in a cloth bearing the navy and white colors of the Alliance. The emblem of the original Normandy was embroidered at its center. On it lay twenty dog tags, spaced with military precision, each one gleaming in the hangar lights. A display terminal stood at the head of the table, cycling softly through each name, a silent roll call of the fallen.

Alexis approached slowly, reverently. She reached out, placing the engraved SR-1 commissioning plaque beside the table. The cold metal gleamed softly, still bearing the etched image of the ship and her designation: Normandy SR-1. Her fingers lingered on the edges for a moment longer, unwilling to let go.

From above, a soft chime rang out.

Then another.

And another.

Twenty chimes in total—one for every soul lost with the SR-1 finally found.

Garrus and Tali stepped up beside her. Garrus stood straight, a soldier’s pride in his bearing despite the healing wound across his face. Tali's gloved hand slipped into Alexis’s, their fingers intertwining silently. Neither said a word. None were needed.

Cerberus soldiers. Former Alliance officers. Quarians and aliens. Engineers, technicians, scientists. All stood together. Not as factions. Not as enemies. But as people. Mourners. Witnesses. Guardians of memory.

Mari stood nearby, body tense, a quiet force of emotion beneath her composed posture. Chakwas stood beside her, hands folded in front of her, the subtle shimmer of tears in her eyes.

Alexis stepped forward, lifting her head, her voice carrying clear and unwavering through the silence.

"They gave everything. Not because they had to. Not because someone ordered them to. But because they believed. In one another. In this ship. In the idea that what we do matters. That we can make things better."

She paused, letting the weight of the moment breathe.

"They weren’t just crew. They were family. And now they are legend. We carry them with us. In every fight. In every choice. In every step forward."

For a heartbeat, the hangar was still.

And then, one by one, hands rose in salute.

Alliance. Cerberus. Quarian. Turian. Human.

A silent tribute, spoken not in words but in unity. In memory.

In honor.

And a promise that they would not be forgotten.

The Normandy SR-2 flew on.

But the heart of the SR-1 would always beat within her crew.

Once the ceremony ended and the honor guard dispersed, Alexis and Tali quietly slipped away from the hangar, weaving through the ship's corridors without a word. The weight of the day hung heavy on both their shoulders, a silence borne not from distance but from shared emotion. As they stepped into the lift, Alexis finally spoke.

"Tell Miranda to set course for the Citadel. We’ve done what we came here to do."

Tali gave a soft nod, pulling up her omni-tool and forwarding the request to the bridge.

The elevator hummed softly as it ascended to the crew deck, the lights overhead casting a warm glow. When they reached the captain's quarters, the door hissed open and welcomed them into the familiar comfort of their shared space.

Without ceremony, they began removing their armor. The familiar clicks and hisses of unlocking plates echoed softly in the quiet room. Their helmets came off last. Alexis exhaled deeply once hers was gone, setting it carefully on the shelf near the couch, next to the plaque she’d recovered from the SR-1.

Tali sat beside her, her own helmet placed down gently, her violet eyes flickering toward Alexis with quiet worry. But Alexis didn’t speak at first. She simply opened her omni-tool and typed a brief message to Admiral Hackett, letting him know they had found all twenty tags. That they were no longer lost.

Then she closed the device and let her arm drop to her side.

The two of them sat in silence. Not awkward, not strained. Just silent. Processing.

The quiet hum of the Normandy’s engines filled the space around them, a subtle reminder that they were moving forward—always forward—even when their hearts lingered in the wreckage of the past.

Tali reached over, lacing her fingers with Alexis's. Her touch was soft, grounding. "They would be proud of you," she whispered.

Alexis didn't respond at first, just turned to rest her forehead against Tali's. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm of their breathing sync, the silence a shared space between them where words weren't needed. They just were.

Together.

And alive.

~

Back at the Citadel, the landing platform of the Zakera Ward bustled with the ever-present rhythm of galactic life. A soft hiss marked the arrival of an air taxi as it settled to a halt, and the side doors opened with a mechanical whoosh. Alexis stepped out first, her armor catching the light, followed closely by Mari, and Tali. Each of them scanned the crowded ward instinctively, years of combat experience ensuring their alertness never waned.

Almost immediately, one of the cylindrical holo-advert terminals lit up with a cheerful jingle, grabbing their attention. An animated advert began to play in front of them, showcasing the latest in consumer tech. But then the screen flickered, and a new image overlaid the feed: a hooded figure with a purple stripe painted across her bottom lip.

"Commander Shepard," the figure said, her voice laced with amusement. "Enter the password and receive a free gift."

Alexis raised an eyebrow behind her visor and stepped closer. "Silence is Golden," she said clearly, reciting the phrase that had been listed on the dossier.

The figure smiled, her image sharpening as the hooded woman tilted her head. "Good to finally meet you, Commander. Kasumi Goto. I'm a fan."

Alexis crossed her arms. "Have Cerberus filled you in on the mission?"

Kasumi chuckled, her tone playful. "Honestly? I'm shocked they didn’t come to me sooner. My fault, I suppose, for being so hard to find."

Mari shifted beside Alexis, keeping an eye on the crowd while Tali watched the exchange curiously.

"Good to have you aboard, then," Alexis said with a slight nod. "You ready to go?"

"Absolutely. I travel light," Kasumi replied with a wink. "Though I am glad you’re helping me with the heist."

Alexis blinked. "Let me guess. Another little detail Cerberus forgot to tell me."

"Huh, and they call me secretive," Kasumi said with mock indignation. "I’m looking for my old partner's Graybox. A man named Donovan Hock took it. I plan to get it back."

Alexis exhaled slowly, already feeling the familiar headache of Cerberus omissions. But she simply nodded. "If that’s the deal, we’ll get it done."

Kasumi's smile widened. "It'll be fun. And if we're lucky, you won’t even have to draw your gun."

With a final grin, she stepped back from the display. "See you on the ship, Shepard."

The holo feed flickered and then disappeared, replaced by the original ad. Alexis turned to her team.

"Let's get back. Somehow I doubt this'll be as quiet as she thinks."

~

The skycar glided silently through the evening skies above the Zakera Ward, lights of the Citadel reflecting on its polished frame. Inside sat Alexis and Kasumi. The Normandy's captain wore an elegantly cut Quarian formal outer suit—tailored lines and rich fabric marked her out even here, subtly altered to retain her full environmental seals. The suit shimmered with the faintest hints of red thread, stitched in Quarian patterns that spoke of her heritage, respect, and strength. Her helmet remained in place—Alexis wasn’t one to compromise her comfort for appearances, even for a job like this.

"You clean up nice," Kasumi quipped from her seat beside her. Clad in her usual hooded attire, she looked completely at ease, fingers dancing across a small datapad as she walked Alexis through the plan one more time.

“Your name tonight is Sandra Gunn,” she said, her voice low and precise. “You’re the commander of a small but efficient mercenary band in the Terminus Systems. Cutthroat, discreet, and most importantly, respected. Just the sort of person Donovan Hock would love to rub shoulders with.”

Alexis tilted her head. “That going to hold up under scrutiny?”

“Absolutely. Sliced together fake contracts, some forged video footage, even got an Asari business liaison who’ll vouch for you if it comes up. You’ve got a whole little empire.”

Kasumi grinned behind her hood as she closed the datapad. “He’ll believe it. Hock’s a weapons dealer. Rich, charming in the most snake-like way imaginable. He values brutality and prestige—he won’t be able to resist you.”

The skycar descended onto the landing pad outside the estate, where golden light spilled from the open glass archways and music echoed out from within. Partygoers in formal wear drifted in and out of the grand ballroom. A massive sculpture stood just off to the side: their tribute to Hock, a lifelike statue of Saren, artfully constructed to conceal their weapons and gear.

Then, things began to go wrong.

“Sorry,” the Batarian at the door told Kasumi with a grunt, scanning her ID again. “This doesn’t match the guest list.”

“I’ll handle this,” Alexis said, her voice sharp and commanding. “She’s my assistant. I don’t go anywhere without her.”

The Batarian folded his arms. “Not without clearance.”

Kasumi’s hand twitched as if reaching for a tool before pulling back. “I’ll find another way in,” she murmured to Alexis, her voice barely above a whisper.

With a subtle nod, Alexis stepped forward into the party, letting the crowd swallow her up. She moved confidently, even with her heart pounding, acting every inch the mercenary commander her alias demanded. Her Carnifex pistol was concealed in a sheath inside her suit, resting securely against her thigh.

The vault door was easy enough to find—set into the far wall beyond the glittering ballroom, nestled in a shadowed alcove beneath a grand staircase flanked with polished obsidian and gold. The crowd flowed around it like it wasn’t even there, but Alexis’s eyes locked onto it the moment she passed the velvet ropes.

Kasumi’s voice filtered into her earpiece, crisp and alert. “Okay, here’s the deal: the vault’s protected by three layers of security—a kinetic barrier, a biometric DNA scanner, and a voiceprint lock. Almost impenetrable.”

Alexis narrowed her eyes as she angled her approach, avoiding suspicion. “Almost?” she murmured, keeping her voice low.

“If we disable the power to the barrier generator, collect Hock’s voice sample, and pull a viable DNA imprint from something in his quarters... yeah, it’s doable. But we’ll have to be smooth. No mistakes.”

Alexis let out a soft, humorless chuckle. “Of course it is. I’d be disappointed if it was easy.”

“Start by chatting him up. We need his voice first.”

Alexis nodded once, already scanning the room. The ballroom unfurled before her like a glittering battlefield. Cut-glass chandeliers bathed the guests in golden light, the polished marble floor reflecting the shifting silhouettes of elite criminals and power brokers.

Hock stood at the heart of his own party like a king surveying his court, laughter rumbling from his throat, charismatic and full of self-satisfaction. A circle of admirers surrounded him, soaking in his bravado as though it were the finest wine.

Alexis stepped forward, posture calm and commanding. “Sandra Gunn,” she said, her tone rich and confident as the name rolled off her tongue.

Hock turned, curiosity piqued. “Only good things, I hope?”

“Depends on who’s talking,” Alexis replied, her head tilting ever so slightly beneath the shimmer of her helmet. “I wanted to see if the man matched the reputation.”

The conversation flowed with practiced grace. Alexis played her part well, appealing to Hock’s ego, letting his own vanity do the heavy lifting. Her omni-tool gave a subtle vibration against her forearm—voiceprint successfully acquired.

Kasumi’s voice came through her earpiece, quiet and focused. “Next step: get into his private quarters. I’ll take care of the power grid in the meantime.”

Alexis peeled away from the ballroom and found her way into a quieter corridor. A single guard stood watch beside a secure door, looking thoroughly bored. She approached with measured steps, murmuring about a prototype weapon being shown in the atrium. The guard blinked, distracted, and turned to consult his datapad.

That was all the time Alexis needed. Her omni-tool flashed once against the lock, executing a silent override. The door hissed open.

Inside was a museum of excess. Weapons from dozens of cultures gleamed in their display mounts, and bold, chaotic art splashed across the walls like declarations of dominance. On a nearby shelf, a hairbrush—out of place, mundane—sat waiting. Alexis retrieved it, bagged it for DNA extraction, and made her exit without a sound.

Kasumi’s voice returned. “Power’s down. The barrier should be offline. Let’s suit up.”

Back at the statue of Saren, the hidden compartment opened with smooth precision. Alexis and Kasumi exchanged a brief nod before retrieving their armor and weapons. Gone were the trappings of elegance and cover identities. Now they were themselves: hunters in the dark.

The sound of laughter still echoed from the ballroom above, unaware of the blades being drawn below.

Alexis locked her armor into place and drew her Carnifex pistol, checking the chamber. “Let’s crack it open,” she said.

Kasumi smiled, tightening her grip on her SMG. “Now we’re talking.”

The elevator descended in eerie silence, the hum of the ancient motors reverberating through the walls as Alexis and Kasumi stood side by side. The vault door slid shut above them, sealing them inside. As the lift halted and opened, the two women stepped out into the heart of Donovan Hock’s collection.

The vault was massive, cavernous in its breadth, lit by soft amber light that flickered like the flames of old oil lamps. Rows of plinths stretched outward like the remains of an ancient civilization, each one supporting a priceless artefact. The air was heavy, sterile, but tinged with the weight of stolen history. Alexis scanned the space as she moved, each item speaking volumes about the ego of the man who had hoarded them here: a fossilized Krogan battle banner, ancient Prothean reliefs, a Hanar ceremonial death mask, a row of shattered Asari blades.

Then, glimmering under the lights, stood Michelangelo's David.

Kasumi slowed beside her, lifting her scanner to sweep the area. "You think we could get him through the elevator door?" she quipped, voice light despite the tension.

Alexis tilted her head slightly. "Only if you want to carry him."

"Tempting," Kasumi murmured. Her scanner beeped, and she turned. "This way."

They weaved deeper into the vault, past priceless relics and memories of a dozen cultures. At the far end, resting like some bizarre altar in front of the shattered head of the Statue of Liberty, sat a sleek, polished case. The graybox.

At its feet, two Kassa Locust SMGs rested side by side on velvet. Alexis approached them carefully. She picked one up, checking the weight and chamber before clipping it to her belt. The other she handed to Kasumi.

"The exact model that killed two presidents," Kasumi noted, eyeing the weapon. "And a perfect match to the original. Hock's nothing if not thorough."

She knelt before the graybox, her omni-tool already activated. Holographic threads emerged from her forearm-mounted device, wrapping around the case as she began the delicate process of accessing its encrypted contents.

Suddenly, the vault darkened. The amber light flickered, shifting to red as a massive holographic projection of Donovan Hock burst to life in the center of the room.

"Don’t bother, Ms. Goto," he sneered, his arms folded across his chest. "It’s codelocked."

Kasumi didn’t flinch. "Donovan. Always the charmer."

"I had a feeling it was you my guard flagged," he continued. "Didn’t take much to figure out. But I knew you’d get through eventually. You always were predictable."

Alexis, already in motion, swept her visor across the room. She activated her HUD overlays, scanning the perimeter for active sensors, hidden weapons, or heat signatures. Her hand hovered near her Carnifex, a silent warning. With a flick of her fingers, she triggered a silent ping from her omni-tool—a pre-arranged signal that would alert Tali, Mari, and Garrus. If they received it, they’d come running. The cavalry was on its way, but it would take them a few minutes to arrive.

"I need what’s in that graybox, Kasumi," Hock said, his voice darker now, more venomous. "And I’m willing to kill for it. Impressive skills, getting into my vault like I left it wide open. But you’ll still die screaming—just like your friend."

That snapped Alexis’s patience. Her voice cut through the air, low and dangerous. "Well, your way got us this far, Kasumi," she said, her fingers wrapping around the grip of her pistol. "Time for my way."

She spun, raised her Carnifex, and fired a clean shot into a massive ancient vase beside them. It exploded in a cloud of ceramic and dust, shards raining down like hail.

"No!" Hock’s hologram shouted.

Alexis stepped forward into the fading echoes. "Have I got your attention now? No one talks to my crew like that. Do I make myself clear?"

Hock’s face twisted with rage. "Kill them!"

His image fizzled and vanished as an alarm klaxon echoed through the vault. The far door groaned open, and Eclipse mercs stormed in, weapons raised.

Kasumi was already moving, slipping behind a plinth with preternatural grace. Alexis stood her ground beside the graybox, pistol drawn, a slow breath escaping her lips as the first shots rang out.

"Here we go," she muttered. "Time to earn that paycheck."

Alexis dove behind one of the grand pedestals supporting a Krogan war statue as bullets tore across the vault. She hit the cold stone floor hard, sliding into position as her hands moved with practiced efficiency, slinging her Carnifex and snapping her Valkyrie rifle up into place. The statue shuddered from the impact of stray shots, chips of ancient stone raining down around her. From the moment Hock gave the kill order, the fight was on.

The Eclipse mercs were well-armed and aggressive—six of them fanning out into the vault like they owned it—but they clearly hadn't expected a real firefight. They thought this would be a glorified security patrol. They hadn't anticipated Commander Shepard and Kasumi Goto.

Kasumi was already gone from Alexis's side, vanishing mid-movement in a shimmer of light as her cloaking field activated. Alexis tracked her only by instinct, catching the soft distortions of light as she ghosted between cover points, weaving between pillars and display cases like a shadow.

Alexis drew their attention, popping up from behind the pedestal and opening fire. Her Valkyrie barked in sharp, controlled bursts. The rifle's smart targeting systems pinged weak points in the mercs' armor, helping her cut them down before they could pin her position. One of the mercs tried to flank, but stumbled when a high-frequency disruptor charge crackled through his suit—Kasumi reappearing just long enough to land the strike before cloaking again.

The mercs fought hard, working together in practiced tandem. But it wasn't enough. Alexis and Kasumi moved like they'd been doing this for years—covering each other's blind spots, flanking, hitting hard and fast.

When the last merc dropped to the floor, Kasumi reappeared at Alexis's side, her visor flickering with heat from the fight.

"That got messy," she said, glancing back at the ruined vault. "But I think we can make it to the surface. There's a maintenance landing pad to the east. Should be a straight shot through the side access tunnels."

Alexis gave a sharp nod, already scanning the vault map on her HUD. "Let's move. Tali and the others are on the way, but we need to link up with them."

They exited the vault through a side access corridor, entering a series of maintenance tunnels lit only by emergency strips along the floor and walls. Pipes groaned above their heads, and the air smelled of oil and ozone. The silence was uneasy—the calm before another storm.

As they neared a junction leading to the pad, a distant mechanical thrum echoed ahead. Alexis raised her hand to halt them. A moment later, the unmistakable thunder of heavy metallic footfalls reached them.

"YMIR mech," Alexis muttered grimly, ducking back into cover.

Kasumi cursed softly. Behind the mech, they could hear the telltale shuffle and chatter of another merc squad moving in.

Alexis exhaled through her nose, checked the charge on her Valkyrie, and glanced toward Kasumi.

"Looks like round two. We hold until the cavalry gets here."

Kasumi gave a crooked grin. "Just like old times I never had."

Alexis crouched, weapon ready, watching the looming silhouette of the mech grow larger with every thunderous step.

The roar of gunfire and heavy footfalls echoed through the maintenance tunnels, the sharp metallic clunk of the YMIR mech closing in making every vibration in the floor feel like a countdown. Alexis ducked behind a low wall of crates, her Valkyrie rifle primed and ready, though she knew it wouldn’t do much against the mech's reinforced armour. A flash of movement to her left marked Kasumi slipping into cover, already preparing to flank the incoming mercenaries behind the mech.

Alexis grit her teeth. "Wish I'd brought the Widow," she muttered under her breath, watching as the first glint of the YMIR’s armour came into view. The narrow confines of the tunnels had made stowing the sniper rifle in their disguised Saren statue impossible. She felt the absence of its power keenly.

The mech stomped forward, twin miniguns spinning up with an ominous whine. A squad of Eclipse troopers filed in behind it, taking up firing positions and launching a barrage of suppressive fire. Sparks exploded around her as bullets chewed into the wall above her head. Alexis ducked low, activated her omni-tool and tapped through several menus with practised speed.

"Time to see what you can do," she murmured.

Tali’s custom-written hacking protocols shimmered to life on her HUD, lovingly coded and calibrated for maximum system disruption. Alexis initiated the override sequence and fired the program into the mech's operating frequency.

The Geth presence inside her flared to life.

Data streamed faster than her own interface could follow. Lines of code shimmered in ultraviolet readouts only she could see. The Geth processes inside her didn’t just enhance the hack—they reinforced and repurposed it. Suddenly, subsystems in the YMIR began to fail: one of the shoulder-mounted sensors sparked and blew out, and its targeting reticule flickered.

The mech staggered, lurching as its right leg seized up.

"Now!" Alexis barked, rising from cover and unleashing a stream of armour-piercing rounds into the joint she had just disabled.

Kasumi, invisible in her cloaked shimmer, reappeared behind the nearest mercenary and took him down with a short burst from the Locust SMG. She vanished again before the others could react, chaos blooming in their ranks.

The YMIR fired blindly, its logic circuits scrambled, rounds chewing through the tunnel walls but missing their marks. One of its missiles misfired and exploded mid-launch, knocking a second mercenary off his feet in a burst of fire.

Alexis pushed forward, using her thrusters to dash across a gap in cover, flanking the stumbling mech. Her Valkyrie barked with controlled bursts, targeting the weakened actuator exposed by the internal disruption.

With a shriek of metal and a pop of exploding servos, the YMIR toppled forward, crashing into the floor with a mechanical groan.

The last two mercenaries turned to run.

Kasumi uncloaked again just long enough to gun one down, while Alexis put a single precise shot through the other’s shoulder, dropping him.

The corridor fell silent.

Alexis exhaled sharply, her chest heaving. The tang of ozone and burning metal filled the air. Her omni-tool still shimmered faintly, the Geth subroutines dormant once more.

Kasumi reappeared beside her, brushing some dust from her shoulder. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

Alexis cracked a grin beneath her helmet. "Remind me to hug Tali when we get back. That hack was all her." She tapped the side of her helmet. "Well, her and a few helpful ghosts."

Kasumi raised a brow but didn’t ask.

The last echo of the YMIR's collapse had barely faded when the colossal vehicle door ahead of them slammed down with a thundering crash. Dust and debris scattered, and Alexis immediately reached for her omni-tool, scanning the blockade. She let out a sharp breath as the readings confirmed her suspicion.

"Even if I hacked the systems, it wouldn't matter," Alexis muttered. "This door was dropped manually. It's physically sealed."

Kasumi appeared at her shoulder, scanning the corridor. Her gaze flicked to a side corridor partially hidden behind a collapsed support beam. "There. Side access. Might lead to another maintenance channel. Worth a try."

They moved fast. The corridor opened into a massive transport bay lined with ominous silence. Rows of deactivated YMIR mechs stood upright in their racks like towering steel statues, dormant but looming. The air smelled of coolant and fresh polymer, a synthetic sharpness that clung to every breath.

Overhead, a rail system hummed faintly, ferrying massive missile containers from one end of the chamber to the other, the constant mechanical rattle echoing like distant thunder.

"Creepy," Kasumi muttered, eyeing the silent mechs. "Remind me to never sleep near a powered-down YMIR."

Alexis wasn't listening. Her gaze had zeroed in on the far wall, where a set of large cylindrical fuel tanks sat in neat containment racks. Above them, partially obscured by scaffolding, rested an M-080 Infantry Fighting Vehicle, its mass accelerator cannon pointing almost directly at the tanks.

"I have a very stupid idea," Alexis said, a slow grin forming behind her visor.

Kasumi blinked, already worried. "Your stupid ideas usually involve explosions from what I have heard."

"Exactly."

Without hesitation, Alexis sprinted across the floor and vaulted onto the back of the IFV. Dust puffed off the aged hull as she landed, straddling the gunner's platform. She swung the cannon around with effort, locking it onto the largest of the fuel tanks.

"Cover your ears."

The mass accelerator cannon fired with a deep, chest-punching boom. The projectile slammed into the tank, and the explosion was instantaneous—a deafening, fiery blast that tore through the dual steel plating like wet paper. A chain reaction followed as adjacent tanks erupted, the shockwave buckling support beams and setting fire to at least three dormant YMIR units.

Flames licked the ceiling, smoke flooding through fractured seams in the wall. And at the heart of the chaos: a gaping, burning exit.

The intercom flared to life overhead, Hock's voice shaking with fury.

"Kill Ms. Gunn! I want Kasumi Goto alive, do you hear me? Bring her to me in chains!"

Kasumi looked over at Alexis, her expression unreadable beneath her hood.

"You just made us a very dramatic exit."

"He wants to play games," Alexis replied, hopping down from the IFV as sparks rained around them. "Let’s end it with a bang."

The landing pad loomed before them, cluttered with stacked crates, supply containers, and maintenance scaffolding. Alexis and Kasumi emerged from the maintenance tunnels, both moving fast and low, adrenaline pushing them through the last stretch of the escape. They barely had time to process the open space before the air cracked with the roar of gunfire.

High above, a gunship circled into view. Its heavy machine guns opened up with a thunderous growl, bullets tearing across the platform, sparking off metal and chewing into crates. The pair dove behind cover, Alexis slamming into a half-open crate as Kasumi rolled behind a pillar.

"You could have done this the easy way, Goto!" Hock's voice bellowed from the gunship's loudspeaker. "Allow me to show you the hard way!"

Kasumi grimaced, her cloak sparking from partial overload. "His voice was annoying enough without the PA system."

Alexis peeked up, trying to find a shot, but the gunship was smart—its pattern of movement kept it mostly out of line-of-sight. "I can't get a lock," she growled, ducking again as a burst of rounds shredded the edge of her cover. "And the interference is too high to hack it from here."

They were pinned.

Then, over the cacophony, another engine's scream pierced the air—lower, heavier. A second set of engines.

The Kodiak tore through the clouds of smoke and ash, its engines roaring as it banked hard across the gunship's arc. In the open side hatch, Tali stood firm, her visor catching the firelight. She raised her omni-tool and sent a targeted hack, her fingers dancing across the holographic interface. Sparks flared across the gunship's shields as her virus hit home, momentarily disrupting its defenses.

Garrus appeared behind her, crouched with Alexis's Widow sniper rifle in hand. "Let’s see how this beast handles Turian marksmanship."

He took a breath and fired.

The Widow's blast cracked like thunder, the recoil staggering Garrus even in his braced stance. The shot slammed into the gunship’s missile pod, detonating one of its payloads. A fireball ripped through the pod's upper structure, forcing the craft to veer hard away from the platform.

"Go, go!" Garrus shouted, tossing the Widow forward as the Kodiak hovered low.

Alexis caught it mid-air, the familiar weight grounding her. Garrus, Tali, and Mari leapt from the hatch, landing in practiced unison. Tali fell into step beside Alexis, her shotgun already primed, while Mari took up a defensive flank.

Garrus smirked. "Kicks like a Krogan."

Alexis grinned beneath her visor, chambering a new round. "Let’s end this."

The last of the Eclipse mercs on the landing platform fell with a sharp cry, his weapon clattering across the ferrocrete as Alexis, Garrus, Mari, Tali, and Kasumi advanced in a tight wedge. Smoke rose in curling tendrils from the blaster-scorched crates and scattered supplies, the silence broken only by the buzz of disrupted air and the soft crackle of smoldering electronics.

"Clear," Garrus confirmed, lowering his rifle.

"For now," Mari muttered, already scanning the far end of the platform.

Before they could regroup, the roar of engines announced the gunship's return. The sleek vessel shot out from behind a nearby structure, its forward cannons lighting up in a blaze of gunfire.

"Cover!" Alexis shouted as they dove behind a stack of supply containers. Mass accelerator rounds punched through metal and stone, sparks showering them as the platform shook with every volley.

"He's persistent, I'll give him that," Garrus muttered.

The Kodiak shuttle reappeared in the distance, struggling to find a safe angle to land. Its approach drew fire, forcing it to veer and circle. But the distraction was all Kasumi needed.

She leaned around the crate, eyes scanning the platform and the massive pipes running along the edge. Measuring angles, distances, wind.

"Cover me," she whispered.

Without another word, she sprinted toward the edge and leapt off. Alexis's heart lurched.

But Kasumi was already moving, her agile form twisting midair as she caught a pipe with practiced grace, vaulting to the next with fluid parkour movements. She scaled the structure like a ghost, racing upward until she stood balanced on the highest beam. The gunship twisted in response, trying to bring its nose-mounted cannon to bear.

Too late.

Kasumi launched herself from the pipe with a final leap, boots crashing onto the top of the cockpit. Sparks burst as she jammed her omni-tool into the metal, triggering an overload that flared against the ship's already-damaged shielding.

Inside the cockpit, Donovan Hock fought the controls with wild eyes, struggling to maintain stability. Kasumi crouched, staring down through the glass at him, her expression unreadable.

Hock mouthed a curse.

She smirked, raised two fingers in a mock salute, and backflipped off the cockpit just as the gunship pitched wildly in the air.

Landing on the platform in a roll, Kasumi came up to a crouch beside the others.

"Showoff," Garrus said, impressed.

Alexis had already raised the Widow. The massive sniper rifle's hum filled the space for a split second before it discharged with a thunderous boom. The shot pierced through the weakened cockpit, a flare of blue-white energy erupting from the other side.

The gunship hung in the air for a heartbeat, engines screaming, then detonated midair in a burst of flame and shrapnel.

The wind from the explosion buffeted them all. Kasumi shielded her face, grinning. "I guess that's the hard way."

The Kodiak swept back in, doors open wide as it hovered just above the platform. Garrus offered Alexis a hand up as they jogged toward it, smoke and ash curling in the air behind them.

"Let's get out of here before Hock's fans show up," Mari said.

Together, they boarded the shuttle. As the hatch sealed and the Kodiak rose back toward the waiting Normandy, Alexis looked once more at the fireball in the sky.

Kasumi sat beside her, cradling the graybox. "Thanks, Shepard. Really."

Alexis nodded, resting a hand briefly on Kasumi's shoulder.

"Any time. You are part of the crew, we look out for each other."

The flight back to the Normandy was quiet. The adrenaline had faded, leaving only the hum of the Kodiak shuttle and the weight of what they had recovered.

Kasumi sat toward the rear of the cabin, the graybox resting on her lap. Its sleek exterior gleamed faintly in the shuttle's interior lights. She ran her fingers over it for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she activated her omni-tool, interfacing with the device.

Alexis watched for a moment before gently looking away, giving Kasumi the space she needed. Across from her, Tali squeezed Alexis’ hand gently. They leaned into each other slightly, finding comfort in the familiar presence. Mari sat nearby, quiet and respectfully distant, eyes cast out the shuttle's small viewport.

Holographic threads projected from Kasumi's omni-tool, forming the final message her partner, Keiji Okuda, had left behind. The flickering image of him appeared, smiling softly, his voice low and warm, the way someone might speak in a dream.

"Kasumi... if you're watching this, then you found it. Part of me hoped you wouldn't. That you'd walk away. Live your life. But you never could resist a mystery."

His words continued, recounting memories, shared laughter, the danger he had gotten too close to. His final request was simple, and impossibly hard.

"Destroy the graybox. The information in here… it’s too dangerous. If you keep it, others will come for it. And for you. But more than that, I don’t want to be a ghost haunting your life. Let me go, Kasumi. Please."

When the recording ended, Kasumi was still for a long moment, her eyes shimmering. She didn’t make a sound, but Alexis could see the tremble in her shoulders.

Alexis didn’t say anything at first. She waited until the silence grew comfortable again, then finally spoke.

"He knew what he was asking. It wasn’t easy for him either. But he didn’t want to be the reason you stayed stuck."

Kasumi didn’t look up. "I know," she whispered. Her voice cracked, just a little. "It’s just… hard to let go."

Tali leaned forward slightly. "You don’t have to let go of him. Just the weight. The pain."

Kasumi nodded slowly. She brushed a tear from her cheek, steeled herself, and pulled up the final protocol. A glowing confirmation hovered above her omni-tool.

"Goodbye, Keiji," she whispered.

And then she pressed the command.

The graybox's glow dimmed, its internal systems shutting down. The memory, the secrets, the data—all wiped clean in accordance with Keiji’s last request.

The only thing left now was Kasumi. And the people around her. And as the Normandy drew closer, breaking atmosphere and coming into view through the shuttle’s windows, it felt like the beginning of something new.

"Let's go home," Alexis said quietly.

Kasumi gave a small, bittersweet smile. "Yeah. Let's."

And the shuttle flew on.

Chapter 26: XXVI

Summary:

The Convict

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXVI

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The hum of the Normandy's engines echoed softly through the lower decks, a constant reminder of movement, of purpose. But for a brief moment, Alexis allowed herself to set that aside. The galaxy could wait—just for a little while.

The firing range in the hold was quiet, the usual clatter of calibrations and crew talk absent. Alexis stepped through the reinforced door, helmet tucked under her arm, her armour still sealed but relaxed at the joints. Garrus was already inside, calibrating a practice target. He turned slightly at the sound of her boots on metal.

"Shepard," he said with a grin. "Thought you might be too busy with Cerberus to come down and shoot things like the good old days."

She rolled her shoulders and smirked. "Cerberus can wait. I figured it was time to remind you who the better shot is."

Garrus barked a laugh, the sound rough but warm. "Bold of you, Commander. Especially since I have a Widow now."

Alexis raised a brow. " My Widow. I noticed. You even adjusted the scope."

"Tuned it, calibrated the trigger... Might have named it. Just don’t ask what."

She chuckled and took her place beside him at the firing line. The two of them stood in comfortable silence as they loaded their weapons. Alexis watched Garrus cradle the Widow sniper rifle like it was a sacred relic, reverence in the way his talons caressed the worn casing.

He took aim first, lining up a target far down the range. The recoil from the Widow bucked hard, the shot shattering the reinforced head of the target dummy with a metallic crunch that echoed throughout the chamber.

"By the Spirits," Garrus muttered, lowering the rifle and shaking out his arms. "That thing kicks like a krogan in a bad mood."

"Now you know why I needed a cybernetic shoulder just to fire it twice in a row," Alexis said with a grin, nodding toward her right arm.

Garrus flexed his own arm with a grimace. "I think my spine just tried to escape through my back."

Alexis took the Widow next, her expression turning focused as the grip synced with her cybernetics. A faint hum passed down her arm as the Geth-assisted systems integrated seamlessly with the weapon's calibration data. Tiny motes of light blinked on her forearm as the internal systems adjusted recoil compensation and pressure thresholds in milliseconds. She could feel the subdermal heat sinks in her shoulder balancing the force before she even fired.

When she squeezed the trigger, the shot snapped through the air with a thunderous crack, but the weapon barely twitched in her grip. The bullet struck its target dead center, punching through it like paper.

"Goddess," Garrus muttered. "That looked like it barely moved."

"Let's just say the shoulder’s not the only thing I upgraded," she said with a satisfied nod, handing the rifle back.

"Remind me not to challenge you to any sniper duels," he said, clearly impressed.

"Still, nice shot. You still got it, Archangel."

"Surprised I have anything left after Omega," Garrus muttered, then went quiet for a moment. Alexis caught the shift in his tone immediately.

She looked over. "Thinking about the others?"

He nodded. "Every day. Sidonis. My team. What we tried to build there. I don’t know if it mattered. Or if I was just... playing hero."

Alexis rested her Widow against the bench and stepped closer. "You tried to make things better. You risked everything. That matters. It always will."

He looked at her, his expression unreadable for a long beat before softening. "You know, I thought you were dead, Shepard. I mourned you. We all did. And now here you are. Back from the void, and I'm..."

"Still here," she finished for him.

He nodded. "Yeah. And part of me wonders why. Why us? Why are we the ones who got to come back when so many didn’t?"

Alexis swallowed, the familiar ache in her chest tightening like it always did when she thought of the SR-1 and its crew. "I don’t know. But I do know that if we’re still breathing, we damn well better make it count."

Garrus smiled slightly. "You always did have a way of cutting through the guilt."

"Not cutting through. Just carrying it better, together."

He looked down at the Widow. "Maybe we both need to stop carrying so much. Before it breaks something inside us."

"Maybe," Alexis agreed. Her voice was quiet, but firm. "But not today."

"No," Garrus said, slotting another thermal clip into place with a determined snap. "Today, we shoot."

And side by side, two old soldiers took aim. The shots rang out clean and precise, each one fired with a blend of purpose, memory, and pain buried just deep enough to keep going. For a little while, they let the weight lift—held only by the echo of trigger pulls and the silent understanding between them.

~

The quiet murmur of the Normandy's systems thrummed gently through the deck, a subtle rhythm that Alexis had come to associate with home. With the next mission still hours away and the weight of the last few days coiling tight in her chest, she decided to visit the cockpit.

Joker was at the helm, hunched comfortably in his chair, fingers dancing over the controls with the kind of fluid familiarity that only came from years of piloting. The stars stretched beyond the viewport, distant and cold, streaking past in a gentle glide as the ship cut through the black. As Alexis approached, she paused for a moment just to take in the scene. It felt normal—almost painfully so.

"Checking to see if I haven't crashed us into a star yet?" Joker called out without turning, a grin clear in his voice.

Alexis smirked beneath her helmet. "Well, it wouldn't be the strangest way I've died."

Joker chuckled, finally glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "Too soon, Shepard."

She stepped up beside him, resting a hand casually on the edge of the console. Her armour clicked softly as she shifted her stance. "You tell me. You've been making jokes about death since I met you."

"Yeah, but that was before you actually died. Kinda makes it harder to get the timing right."

There was a beat of silence, just the low hum of the ship around them. Alexis exhaled quietly, watching Joker's profile. He looked like himself—sarcastic, tired, too thin—but she could see it in the way his fingers hovered a little too long over the same control, the way his jaw tightened. There was something heavier sitting under his usual bravado.

"You doing okay, Jeff?" she asked softly.

He didn’t answer right away. His voice was quieter when he did speak, tinged with something that sounded too much like guilt. "I missed you. The ship… it didn’t feel like the Normandy without you on it. Not really."

Alexis tilted her head slightly, taken off guard by the sincerity. She hadn’t expected him to say it—let alone admit it aloud. She let her voice drop as she stepped in closer, something quieter, more intimate settling in the space between them.

"Joker…"

He waved a hand vaguely, his gaze locked on the stars. "I just… I should say this now. I know we joke, but when the Collectors hit us, I should've done something different. I kept us flying, sure, but I was stubborn. I thought I knew better, pushed the ship harder than I should've. I... I got you killed."

"No." Alexis said it firmly, cutting off the spiral before it could build. "You saved lives, Joker. Most of the crew made it off because of you. I don't blame you. I never did."

He looked over, eyes shadowed with disbelief. She met them with unflinching certainty.

"You were the only reason we lasted as long as we did. You bought them time to escape. You didn’t kill me. The Collectors did. And if anyone’s at fault, it's the ones who sent them. Not you. Never you."

Joker let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "You always did know how to make a guy feel better."

Alexis smiled slightly. "And you always did need someone to keep your ego in check."

"Fair," Joker said, a small laugh escaping him. "Still... I'm glad you're back. Even with all this Cerberus nonsense, the Normandy just didn’t feel the same. Without you, it was just... a ship."

They stood there a moment longer, the stars outside casting faint light across the console, glittering across her armour and his pale face. The silence between them was warmer now, not heavy, just shared.

"You're a part of this ship as much as I am, Jeff," she said quietly. "More, maybe. So don’t talk like you were anything less than a damn hero that day."

He looked at her again, his expression finally softening, his usual sarcasm nowhere in sight. "Thanks, Shepard. That… means more than you know."

She gave him a quiet nod, turning to leave.

"Hey," Joker called after her.

She paused in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Welcome home."

Alexis stopped, the words hitting her deeper than she expected. For a second she just stood there, then she gave a small wave over her shoulder and walked away.

"Thanks," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "It’s good to be back."

~

The AI Core was dim and quiet, softly lit by blue light panels that pulsed like the ship's own heartbeat. Mari'Saalas moved with practiced precision as she entered the core, her steps steady despite the quiet hum of the Normandy's systems beneath her boots. She'd planned to do a systems sweep—just a quiet moment to herself while Alexis and the others prepared for the next op.

She hadn't expected to find EDI mid-diagnostic.

The AI's glowing sphere shimmered slightly as Mari approached, her presence noted before she even spoke. Holographic displays flickered and reformed around the core, listing internal processes and efficiency algorithms. Streams of binary danced through the projected panels like glowing waterfalls, their light reflecting off Mari's visor. EDI's voice emerged, calm and composed as always.

"Good afternoon, Mari'Saalas. Are you here to perform a systems integrity check?"

Mari gave a small grunt of acknowledgment, eyes scanning the floating readouts. "That was the plan. But I see you beat me to it."

"I perform a self-diagnostic every 3.5 hours," EDI said. "However, you are welcome to assist or review the results."

Mari paused for a moment, then stepped closer. "That sounds... lonely."

There was a brief pause. "I do not experience loneliness in the way organics do. But I acknowledge the concept."

Mari set down her kit, her gloved fingers working a panel open near the core's access conduit. She glanced toward the sphere, her tone thoughtful. "What brought this one on? The diagnostics, I mean. Seem deeper than usual."

"I detected a 0.2% deviation in my response latency following our last mission. I am attempting to isolate the variable," EDI explained. "Combat stress events logged. Multiple."

Mari looked over her shoulder, quirking an eyebrow. "Combat stress. You mean you track psychological pressure?"

"I simulate it," EDI clarified. "To more effectively interface with the crew. I replicate elevated processor loads to reflect the emotional strain that might impact decision-making."

Mari leaned back against the console, folding her arms. Her voice softened. "You simulate pain."

A flicker passed through the room, subtle as a breath. "Yes. To better understand what you all endure."

There was a beat of silence. Mari looked at the readings again, then at the glowing eye of the core.

"And no one’s ever thanked you for it, have they?"

EDI didn’t respond for several seconds. Then: "That outcome is... uncommon."

Mari’s voice went low, almost gruff with something unspoken. "You’re not just wiring and subroutines, EDI. Not to me. You watch over them, same as I do. You saw what they went through on Omega. You recorded it. You helped keep them alive."

"It is my function," EDI replied, though quieter this time.

Mari gave a short laugh, dry and full of meaning. "Yeah, and a doctor’s function is to treat wounds. Doesn’t mean they don’t care when someone bleeds."

She crouched down near the access panel, running her fingers along a few of the auxiliary ports before pulling a small tool from her belt. "You said you felt a delay in your processing? Let’s see if the sub-buffers are lagging or if your thermal regulators are drawing too much current."

"I had begun an analysis of that possibility, but your assistance is welcomed."

"Of course it is. Someone’s gotta look after the damn AI if she’s going to be tossing herself into combat systems like a front-line trooper."

EDI remained quiet for a moment, then spoke again. "I am... unused to being spoken to this way by Cerberus personnel."

Mari didn’t look up from her work. "That’s because most Cerberus personnel are too busy pretending you’re not a person. But my daughter? She lives in a suit. Eats through a straw. Fights like hell. And she loves this crew. If you’re on her crew, you matter. That’s the only line I care about."

Another pause, longer this time. Then: "You are unlike others. Your presence is appreciated."

Mari chuckled, just a little. "You sound surprised."

"I am... learning."

Mari gave a nod, grabbing her tool kit again. "Good. Now scoot over, glowing eye. Let me check your left diagnostic buffer before you short out something important."

"Acknowledged. Welcome, Chief Engineer."

And for the first time since joining the Normandy, EDI let someone in without running a threat assessment. And somewhere in the glow of flickering code, a new line was written—not in her programming, but in something less defined. Something closer to trust.

~

The Normandy's briefing room was bathed in a sterile white light, reflecting softly off the brushed steel and the illuminated galaxy map at the center. Alexis stood with her arms folded, staring at the glowing projection of the prison ship they were fast approaching. The projection shimmered with telemetry, status logs, and notations pulled from Cerberus files—all in Miranda's neat, clinical formatting.

The door hissed open.

"Commander," Miranda said, stepping inside. She moved with professional precision, datapad in hand, her expression unreadable and her tone clipped.

Alexis didn’t turn. "You wanted to talk."

"Yes," Miranda replied, glancing at the projection before stepping closer. "I thought we should have a word before the next op."

Alexis finally turned to face her, the soft glow of the galaxy map casting one half of her face in blue and the other in shadow. "Go ahead."

Miranda folded her arms across her chest, datapad still gripped in one hand. "You're getting too close to them."

Her words hung heavy in the air. There was no accusation in her voice, just a sterile observation spoken with clinical precision.

Alexis arched an eyebrow. "Them? You mean my crew?"

Miranda nodded once. "Yes. Tali, Garrus, your mother—even EDI. I’ve observed the way you defer to them, speak with them. You treat them like family."

Alexis’s expression darkened slightly. "Because they are."

Miranda remained composed, but her voice turned sharper. "Commander, emotional attachment clouds judgment. Cerberus didn’t bring you back from the dead to build a surrogate family."

That struck a nerve. Alexis’s tone turned hard. "Cerberus didn’t bring me back for anything. They revived a corpse. I brought myself back. And what held me together then—what holds me together now—is them."

Miranda narrowed her eyes slightly, but her voice stayed cool. "I’m not denying your results. But you're allowing sentiment to dictate command decisions. You're too willing to bend protocol if it means keeping someone close safe. That can get people killed."

Alexis stepped forward, the tension in the room crackling like static. "And being cold and distant gets people abandoned . You think I haven’t seen what happens when leadership treats their soldiers like tools? You think I haven’t watched crews fall apart because the person in charge only knew them as names on a roster?"

There was a beat of silence. Miranda’s jaw tightened slightly.

"My approach is calculated. It ensures stability, predictability."

"Your approach works on paper," Alexis replied, her voice quiet but firm. "Mine works in the real world. We’re not facing spreadsheets. We’re facing Collectors. We’re facing extinction. And I’m telling you now, the only reason people will follow me into that hell is because they trust me. Because they know I care enough to bring them home."

Miranda exhaled slowly, as if trying to maintain composure through sheer force of will. "You’re passionate, I’ll give you that. But passion won’t fix a breached hull or salvage a broken plan. That’s where I come in."

Alexis inclined her head. "Then let’s make that the deal. You keep the gears turning. I’ll keep the people going."

For the first time, Miranda allowed a flicker of something—reluctant respect, maybe—to show in her eyes. "Fine. But I’ll be watching. If that passion gets someone killed—"

"Then I’ll take responsibility," Alexis cut in. "Like I always have."

A tense silence passed before Miranda gave a tight nod. "Drop coordinates will be ready within the hour. We arrive at the prison ship in two."

As the door slid closed behind her, Alexis turned back toward the glowing projection of the prison ship. Her reflection shimmered across the map, fractured and scattered in the swirling light of stars.

She would lead her way. Or not at all.

~~

The Normandy dropped out of FTL with the silent hum of translated mass effect fields dispersing like a ripple through deep space. Hanging before them was the Purgatory: a massive, retrofitted ark ship repurposed by the Blue Suns into a high-security prison vessel. The hull was ancient, built before the First Contact War, its plating scabbed with ad-hoc armour and fuel burns. The ship's ID transponder blinked erratically, as if even it wanted to forget what it had become.

"That's Purgatory?" Garrus asked from the CIC, his mandibles twitching slightly. "Charming."

"It used to transport alien fauna for research," Tali added quietly, her voice filtered through her helmet. "Now it's used to cage people instead. And worse."

Rumours had swirled for years: the Blue Suns selling inmates to Batarian slavers, illegal experiments, disappearances. Nothing ever proven. But Alexis didn’t need proof. Her gut—and her experience—told her all she needed.

"Suit up," she said. "We're going in."

She met the team at the airlock, her chosen squad already in full gear. Tali and Mari flanked her, the matte-black and crimson curves of their Quarian armour interlinked with custom joint padding and sealed holsters. Both women stood with an eerie, mirrored discipline—Quarian marine training manifesting in mirrored readiness.

Garrus leaned against the opposite wall, loading a fresh thermal clip into his Mantis sniper rifle. "You sure you want me for a tight-quarters job, Shepard? Not a lot of room to stretch out in there."

"I need your eyes and instincts. And if it stops being routine, I want your trigger finger ready."

Kasumi appeared beside them with barely a shimmer, materializing from her active cloak with a grin. "I'm only here because you promised me a warm-up job. This doesn’t scream 'low profile', Commander."

"Nothing ever does with us," Garrus muttered.

Alexis smirked under her helmet. "We keep it sharp. Miranda has the ship. Mordin’s in the lab, and Jacob’s got the marines. We’ll make this quick. In, find our recruit, and out. No surprises."

Mari let out a small, dry laugh through the comms. "Famous last words, reja'la."

They stepped into the airlock together, weapons slung, helmets sealed. As the magnetic clamps disengaged and the boarding corridor extended toward the prison ship, the hum of readiness filled the silence.

Purgatory waited.

The airlock clanged shut behind them, sealing the squad into the stale, metallic interior of the Purgatory. A gust of recycled, acrid air rolled over them as the pressure equalized. The landing corridor gave way to a receiving chamber with dull overhead lights that flickered in sync with the low hum of ancient systems still limping along after decades of retrofits.

Three Blue Suns guards stood waiting. All human, heavily armed, their visors mirrored and impersonal. The one in the center stepped forward, rifle slung but hand resting a little too comfortably on its grip.

"You're expected," he said flatly. "Your package is being readied. You can claim it shortly. But standard protocol—you'll need to relinquish your weapons."

Alexis didn’t move. Her helmet turned slightly, her stance firm and unyielding. "No."

A tense pause followed. Tali shifted beside her, ready. Mari crossed her arms, staring through the guards like she was calculating how long it would take to break their legs. Garrus tilted his head just enough to glance down his scope.

The guard opened his mouth again, but was cut off by the hiss of a side door. Another Turian entered, taller than Garrus, wearing Blue Suns officer plating with gold accents. He didn’t smile, but he raised a hand.

"Stand down," he ordered the guards, who immediately relaxed but didn’t lower their weapons. "I’m Warden Kuril. Commander of this facility."

Alexis didn't offer a handshake. "Shepard."

Kuril gave her a once-over, eyes lingering on her team. "A Spectre in my halls. Unexpected. Still, procedure exists for a reason. We keep our guests disarmed."

"We're not guests. We're here for a pickup, not a stay. And we don't disarm," Alexis said, voice hard and cold. "You want to stand in our way, Warden?"

Another pause. The tension was a living thing now, hovering between squads.

Kuril slowly nodded, conceding. "Very well. The Purgatory is more than secure enough to survive five armed visitors. This way, Commander. We'll process the paperwork while your... package is prepared."

Alexis gave the smallest of nods and the squad followed, boots echoing down the long corridor as the prison ship swallowed them whole.

The echo of armored footsteps rang down the metallic corridor, the steady march of Alexis, Tali, Mari, Garrus, and Kasumi accompanied by the casual stride of Warden Kuril. The Purgatory's interior was cold and utilitarian, lined in gunmetal grey and dim amber lighting, meant more to suppress than to guide. The air carried the faint ozone tang of recycled systems and disinfectant, punctuated by the subtle mechanical groan of the ship adjusting to life onboard.

"Jack is being removed from cryo as we speak," Warden Kuril said, his voice sharp and confident as he led the group down the corridor. "As soon as the funds clear, you'll be free to depart with your... asset."

They turned a corner, the corridor widening to expose a massive vertical viewport overlooking the primary cell block—or rather, what had once been a cargo hold. The view was haunting. Modular, coffin-like cells hovered within the zero-g matrix, suspended in tight, sterile lines. Each was lit with a cold blue hue and bore serial numbers rather than names. A few twitched or glowed faintly, indicating life. Others remained eerily still.

"Thirty blocks," Kuril said, gesturing with one gauntleted hand. "Every prisoner contained in a fully isolated unit. Each one can be sealed, cut off, or ejected into space in seconds. We don’t negotiate with riots or hostage situations. One button, and the problem disappears."

Mari made a quiet sound of distaste behind her helmet, but said nothing. Garrus's mandibles tightened.

Kuril didn’t notice, or didn’t care. "We pride ourselves on zero incidents. Our systems are state of the art. Full lockdown can happen in under five seconds. Nothing goes wrong here."

Alexis let out a soft scoff through her helmet, crossing her arms. "You know, that sounds a lot like what I say about Joker's landings."

Over the private squad comms, Tali chimed in with a mischievous lilt to her voice. "Or your driving."

Alexis rolled her eyes and didn’t reply, though the smallest chuckle escaped her.

Kuril continued without missing a beat, seemingly pleased with his monologue. "Some people say it's excessive, but deterrence is part of security. Nobody escapes. Nobody causes trouble."

Kasumi—now silent and observant—drifted a few paces back, eyes trailing the upper galleries and guards positioned along catwalks. She was already casing the environment. Her instinct told her what Alexis already suspected: this place was a powder keg, dressed up in steel.

"And Jack?" Alexis asked, bringing them back to the mission.

Kuril nodded. "One of our more... challenging acquisitions. Dangerous, crazy and very powerful."

They walked on, closer to whatever waited in the heart of the ship.

The corridor lights flickered slightly overhead as the squad proceeded past the last bulkhead. The hum of Purgatory's reinforced systems was constant now, the smell of recycled air tinged with the faint scent of machine oil and disinfectant. The Warden, flanked by two more Blue Suns guards, slowed his pace and turned toward Alexis.

"I'll need to confirm the transfer has gone through on Cerberus's end," he said, voice clipped and professional. "Your package will be ready shortly. The out-processing station is just down the corridor. Keep going past the interrogation rooms and the Supermax wing."

He didn’t wait for confirmation. With a nod to his guards, he pivoted and disappeared through a side door, leaving the squad to move forward on their own.

Mari's voice came through their squad channel with a dry note. "Of course he leaves us here."

Tali replied just as quietly. "I don’t like this. Feels like we’re being funneled."

Alexis didn’t respond immediately. Her eyes scanned every corner of the corridor ahead as they advanced. The walls here were cleaner, but sterile in the most clinical way, covered in matte white plating occasionally interrupted by viewing windows into the ship's repurposed cellblocks.

They passed by one such window, the interior beyond glowing faintly with pulsing red light. Inside, modular prison pods lined a massive cargo hold, each one isolated, sealed, and suspended by magnetic stabilizers. From this vantage point, the blocks looked like dozens of floating coffins, each containing a soul cut off from the rest of the galaxy.

"They can eject the entire unit into space if there's a problem," Mari muttered. "That's not security. That’s disposal."

"Efficient," Kasumi said with a bitter edge. "Charming."

They moved past another window, this one darker. A sharp crack echoed from within. Alexis turned her head just in time to catch sight of a Blue Suns mercenary inside an interrogation room. He raised his baton again and struck the prisoner chained to a bolted chair, the blow landing with a hollow thud.

"Son of a bitch," Garrus growled.

He didn’t stop walking, but his voice was low, angry. "That's not how you get intel. At a certain point, victims say anything just to make the pain stop. It's useless. Sadistic."

Alexis didn’t say anything, but the slight tightening of her jaw behind the helmet was enough for the others to feel her tension.

The corridor curved slightly, the hum of security drones overhead growing louder. The out-processing checkpoint loomed ahead, marked by reinforced doors and a biometric scanner panel.

Whatever was waiting beyond those doors, none of them had a good feeling about it.

They crossed the large processing chamber warily, boots ringing out against the gridded metal floor. The room was cavernous and sterile, its design clearly intended to intimidate more than welcome. At the far end stood a single reinforced door flanked by dim orange lights, the only feature breaking the uniformity of the walls. As they neared it, the heavy door slowly parted with a groan of hydraulics.

Beyond it was nothing. An empty cell.

Alexis’s gut tightened an instant before the trap sprung.

The Warden’s voice cracked to life over the intercom system, smug and cold.

"My apologies, Shepard. You are more valuable a prisoner than a customer."

Alexis didn’t hesitate. Her voice was iron. "Go to hell, bosh'tet."

"Have it your way."

Alarms shrieked into life, and the same entrance they had used moments before hissed open again. Blue Suns mercenaries surged back through it, rifles raised and shouting as they tried to pin the squad down.

"Cover!" Alexis barked, diving behind a steel maintenance station as a volley of rounds shattered against it in a harsh, metallic clatter.

Garrus was already in motion, sliding into position behind one of the central pillars that provided the only decent cover in the open expanse. His Mantis sniper rifle cracked out with deafening force, each round landing with brutal precision. Every pull of the trigger sent another Blue Suns merc crumpling backward, armor scorched and blood spraying against the walls.

Kasumi flickered and vanished mid-roll, her cloaking device rendering her invisible to the attackers. She darted left like a shadow, skirting the perimeter until she appeared behind a cluster of crates, her SMG flaring to life with sharp bursts. Her shots laced through armor joints and helmet visors, sowing chaos among the mercs.

Tali and Mari moved in unison to the right flank, their Quarian training and combat experience evident in their flawless coordination. Mari slung her Vindicator over her back, drawing her shotgun with fluid ease and blasting a merc clean off his feet. Tali’s Claymore, oversized and brutal, thundered like a storm each time she pulled the trigger, sending shrapnel and enemies alike flying.

The mercenaries didn’t stand a chance.

The doorway that had once welcomed them became a slaughterhouse—a corridor of death. Every Blue Suns soldier that stepped through was met with overwhelming force, dropped before their boots cleared the threshold. The floor slicked with blood and scattered weapons, the pile of bodies mounting with every second.

For a breathless moment, the room stilled, the only sound the distant howl of klaxons and the low groan of the sealed vault door behind them. A moment’s reprieve, won by sheer tenacity and firepower.

Alexis stood slowly, reloading her Valkyrie with a crisp snap. Her helmet visor flickered with squad vitals—no injuries. She allowed herself a moment of relief before turning toward the sealed door.

"We’re not done yet," she muttered. "Let’s make the Warden regret not spacing us when he had the chance."

"With pleasure," Garrus said, already moving.

Mari glanced at her daughter and nodded. "Your call."

"Then we move," Alexis said.

The squad pushed forward, weapons up, fury ready.

The squad fell into formation behind Alexis with a smoothness that came from months of hard-earned cohesion. She moved forward at a brisk, determined pace, flanked by Mari and Tali, both sweeping the halls with weapons at the ready. Garrus and Kasumi brought up the rear, eyes sharp, checking corners and watching for flankers. The sirens still wailed overhead, their rhythmic pulse of red light slicing the hallway into violent shadows.

"We need to find Jack," Garrus muttered, crouching behind a crate as they paused at an intersection. "If we walk off this ship without her, this whole suicide run's for nothing."

"Agreed," Alexis said, her voice clipped and focused. "Left, through the max-sec wing. We're not backtracking."

They moved as one, turning left through the security checkpoint. Alexis led them through the blast doors and into another steel corridor where the bulkheads loomed overhead. A pair of FENRIS mechs leapt at them from the shadows, their glowing eyes flaring with hostile recognition.

Alexis put the first one down mid-air with a controlled burst from her Valkyrie, the rounds punching through synthetic plating and wiring. Mari, unflinching, stepped forward and slammed the second aside with a kinetic blast from her shotgun. It skidded into the wall, screeching sparks, just before Tali lined up her Claymore and blew it apart with a single, bone-rattling shot.

Beyond the wreckage, more Blue Suns mercs came charging down the hallway, rifles raised. Kasumi shimmered and vanished, her stealth field activating mid-roll, only to reappear moments later behind the last merc. She drove her blade into his back before Garrus opened up with his Mantis, taking down the rest with cold, efficient shots.

They breached a door and entered the cryo control observation room, where a lone technician was already shouting into a console.

"Shepard is loose! Shepard is—"

A single crack from Mari’s shotgun silenced him, the tech falling behind the console. Smoke curled in the air.

Tali was already at the main terminal, her fingers a blur as she scanned line after line of code. "Just opening Jack's cell is going to take too long. The system is locked down—three subroutines, nested redundancies. I can vent the whole block and force all the pods to open at once. It'll be faster."

Alexis nodded once. "Do it. We’ll handle whatever else wakes up. Just get Jack out."

The observation window gave them a full view of the max-security cryo block. Below them, containment pods lined the floor in tight rows—massive, coffin-like machines with biometric locks and isolation dampeners. At the center of the room, a hydraulic lift was raising one of the pods, the mechanical arm groaning with effort.

Three YMIR mechs had already turned toward the rising pod, targeting sensors glowing a dull red. The pod hissed and cracked open as it cleared the floor, rising into full view.

Inside was a woman. Her body was a tapestry of ink—lines, patterns, and symbols that coiled across her arms, down her throat, and under the edges of a black, industrial restraint collar clamped around her neck. Her wrists were shackled above her head, ankles bound together, her posture hunched and animalistic.

Then her eyes snapped open.

With a scream that could shatter glass, she tore herself free from the bindings. Biotic energy surged from her like a wave of gravity collapsing inward before erupting. The pod exploded outward in a flare of violet-blue light, and the closest YMIR mech was blasted off its feet, crashing against the wall in a tangle of limbs and wiring.

The woman dropped from the restraints in a crouch, flexing her arms before hurling a second biotic shockwave at the next mech. It staggered, skidding on its stabilizers before she rushed forward and disappeared into the chaos of awakening prisoners and flickering emergency lights.

"Guess we found Jack," Garrus muttered, stepping forward to watch the carnage.

Alexis exhaled sharply, eyes fixed on the shattered remains of the mech. "And she’s definitely not in the mood to talk. Let’s move."

Behind them, Tali’s console pinged as the override completed. One by one, cryo pods across the cell block began to unseal, the hiss of depressurization adding to the rising chorus of chaos.

"Great," Mari sighed, tightening her grip on her shotgun. "One unstable biotic and a few dozen pissed-off prisoners. Exactly what I needed today."

Alexis reloaded her Valkyrie with a click. "So, business as usual. Let’s go find our girl."

The squad turned, ready to descend into the storm below.

As Alexis and her squad descended from the shattered observation deck into the chaos of the Purgatory's inner corridors, the blaring of alarms grew louder, more desperate. Red warning lights stuttered along the ceilings, casting pulsing shadows on the bulkheads. The floor thrummed with the reverberations of distant explosions, and the unmistakable staccato of gunfire echoed through the corridors. The prison ship was tearing itself apart.

Smoke curled from the room that had once housed Jack's cryo cell. The massive containment platform was half-melted, its supports mangled and blackened with scorch marks. The three YMIR mechs that had once guarded it were now reduced to twisted heaps of slag and armor shards, their internal power cores having exploded violently from within. In one section of the far wall, a hole had been punched clean through the titanium plating, its edges still glowing faintly red with residual heat.

"Jack didn’t just escape," Garrus muttered, stepping through the wreckage, rifle sweeping. "She detonated her way out."

From overhead speakers, Warden Kuril's voice snarled with fury. "All guards, lethal force authorized. I repeat: lethal force is now authorized. Bring the other escapees down, but I want Jack alive."

"That doesn’t bode well for his guards," Kasumi said dryly.

They followed the crude tunnel Jack had carved through the ship's infrastructure. The walls were lined with pipes and exposed conduits, some of which sparked intermittently. Here and there, charred corpses of Blue Suns guards lay crumpled against the walls or slumped over broken railings, their weapons still clutched in lifeless fingers. The biotic aftermath was unmistakable: bodies hurled like ragdolls, spines crushed by invisible force.

Mari took point, her weapon steady, eyes alert. Tali moved beside her, tapping into the ship’s emergency broadcast frequencies. "Computer systems are failing. Internal communications are down in large sectors. Life support offline in Sectors 7, 9, and 11. Zero survivors reported."

"Damn," Alexis whispered. Her grip on her Valkyrie rifle tightened.

The path twisted and turned, until they reached another ragged breach in the corridor wall, leading back into one of the main cellblocks. What awaited them was nothing short of hell.

Fires roared through the stacked modular cells, each engulfed in varying degrees of flame and ruin. Thick smoke hung in the air, choking and clinging. The emergency sprinklers had long since failed. Prisoners screamed and fought in the lower levels, some still trapped, others armed with scavenged weapons or makeshift tools. A few dead guards lay slumped against the walls, while others were still exchanging fire with inmates behind flipped tables and shattered barricades.

"We need to move," Alexis ordered, pulling her helmet down tighter over her face. "Jack’s cutting a warpath through this place, and if we don’t catch up, the Warden might get her first."

Mari glanced across the carnage. "Assuming she doesn’t tear him in half before we get there."

"Then let’s make sure we get to her first," Alexis replied grimly, and pushed forward into the inferno.

The squad pushed forward into the chaos, moving through smoke-filled corridors of the burning cellblock. Inmates, both dazed and aggressive, ran in every direction. Some attacked one another, others huddled in corners, too terrified to move. The prison alarms howled around them, casting everything in the pulse of flickering red lights and static-laced emergency broadcasts.

Over the comms, the Warden's voice barked through the intercom system, desperate and angry. "All prisoners return to your cells immediately. Final warning: failure to comply will result in full depressurization of the cellblocks. I repeat, I will open every airlock on this deck."

"Charming," Garrus muttered as they ducked under a sparking pipe, the air hot with vented steam. "Man really knows how to lose an audience."

Alexis kept moving, rifle tight against her shoulder as she led the squad deeper into the fire and carnage. Tali was at her side, visor scanning furiously. She held up a hand.

"We're getting system pings. Warden might be bluffing about the airlocks, but there's a cascade failure in the power plant. Geth subroutines confirm: core overload in progress. Main systems are failing. Core detonation possible."

Kasumi let out a low whistle. "Oh good. Nothing says fun like a prison ship going critical."

At the rear of the squad, Garrus and Kasumi both triggered their helmet seals. Garrus's full-face helmet folded out from his collar and locked into place with a soft hiss, his HUD flickering to life. Kasumi reached into her belt pouch and pulled out a compact breather-mask that she pressed to her face; it clicked and expanded, forming a smooth seal beneath her hood.

"We better find Jack and get to the shuttle," Mari said, checking the thermal readout on her Vindicator. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were alert, wary. "We don’t have long."

Alexis nodded, her own visor lighting up with system warnings. The Geth processes in her cybernetics were pulling environmental data and mapping it in real-time, overlaid across her HUD. "Tali, mark any route that's still structurally intact and away from the core. Garrus, Kasumi—you two cover our rear. Mari, with me up front. We're getting out, with or without Warden Kuril's permission."

The squad pushed into the next cellblock, weapons up and eyes sharp. The air was thick with smoke and fire, every surface scorched or buckling under strain. Prisoners were loose, some running for freedom, others too injured to move. The ship shuddered again beneath their boots, groaning like a wounded beast.

"Hull breach detected in Sectors 12, 14, and 30," the computer's voice intoned coldly, eerily calm despite the chaos. "No survivors."

Alexis gritted her teeth, blasting a merc who stepped into her line of fire. Sparks erupted from the ceiling, and a support beam crashed down behind them, sealing off their path back. There was only one direction now: forward.

The entire block was in a state of complete collapse. Fire suppression systems had long since failed, leaving the flames to spread unchallenged. Garrus fired a precise shot through the eye socket of a merc trying to flank them, while Kasumi blinked in and out of view, striking fast and vanishing again like a ghost. Mari and Tali fought in sync, shotguns thundering as they covered Alexis's flanks.

As Alexis took cover behind a scorched bulkhead, her visor flared with a comms prompt. She opened a channel to the Normandy, the signal crackling slightly from the interference.

"If you haven't gathered," Alexis said, ducking a spray of bullets, "make sure we are ready for a quick get away."

"I was ready for a quick get away the moment we docked," Joker replied instantly. His voice held that familiar smirk, unbothered by the chaos. "Just a simple mission, right Shepard?"

"That's what I said!" Garrus called out from his cover, ejecting a spent thermal clip.

Alexis rolled her eyes, the expression hidden beneath her helmet, but the smile tugging at her lips was unmistakable. Even in hellfire, this was her team. Her people.

Tali stepped up beside her, her voice firm. "Power plant is in critical overload. Geth systems confirm full cascade failure is minutes away. If we're going to make it off this ship, we need to move now."

"Then we find Jack and we get out," Alexis said, rising from cover and motioning the others forward. "Stay sharp. This ride isn't over yet."

The squad cleared the burning wreckage of the last cellblock just in time to hear the blaring voice of Warden Kuril cut through the crackling fire, warning klaxons, and the chaos erupting throughout the prison ship.

"All units to Cellblock 1! Now! Lock it down and bring me that biotic freak!"

"Perfect," Garrus muttered, checking the heat sink in his rifle. "We found the boss fight."

The bulkhead ahead of them let out a groan like a dying animal as it retracted into the ceiling, revealing a wide chamber scorched by fire and smoke. The walls were lit by emergency red strobes and burning power conduits. Cellblock 1, the central holding unit, had become a warzone.

At the far end, standing atop a raised platform flanked by two rows of reinforced pylons, stood Warden Kuril himself. His armor gleamed with ceramite plating, heavy-duty and custom-fitted. The M-76 Revenant in his grip was a monster of a weapon, already spun up and whining with power. Around him, shield pylons thrummed to life, locking him within a triangular fortress of kinetic barriers that shimmered like molten glass.

A firing line of Blue Suns mercs stood ready, their armor charred but intact, weapons raised and eager.

"Contacts ahead—eighteen mercs and heavy fire support," Garrus said quickly, already picking a sniping position behind twisted metal. "They’re expecting us."

Alexis darted into cover, Mari and Tali flanking her with swift, well-practiced movements. Kasumi faded from view in a shimmer of light, already repositioning. A barrage of gunfire rained down on their position the moment they were spotted, tracer rounds tearing past them.

Warden Kuril’s voice boomed from a loudspeaker built into his armor, amplified over the carnage. "You have no idea what you’ve cost me, Shepard! I could’ve sold you to the Collectors or any one of a dozen clients for enough to live like royalty! You’re not worth the trouble—but Jack is. She’ll pay for the damage you’ve done."

Alexis popped up and fired a controlled burst from her Valkyrie, catching one merc in the chest and forcing the others into cover. "You really think slaving and torturing people makes you righteous? You’re just another sadist with delusions of grandeur."

Kuril’s reply came like a storm, venomous and proud. "I bring order to the chaos! I do what your pampered governments are too weak to handle. The galaxy needs men like me! Discipline, power, control—this is what keeps the stars spinning!"

He slammed a fist against his omni-tool, and the shield pylons surged with a pulse of kinetic energy, locking into place. "But you? You’re nothing but a damn liability!"

"Kasumi, Tali—take the pylons! Bring his little fortress down! Garrus, Mari, with me—we hold the line!" Alexis barked.

Kasumi didn’t respond—she was already gone, a blur of motion cloaked in shadow. Tali peeled off left, vaulting over wreckage and plasma-scarred grating as she moved toward the first pylon. Sparks danced at her heels, but she never broke stride.

Garrus took up a high line of sight behind the ruins of a collapsed cell wall, his Mantis rifle glowing as he lined up his first shot. Mari moved beside Alexis, calm and relentless, her shotgun barking blasts of suppressive fire that made the mercs falter.

Alexis pressed forward, firing in bursts, her Valkyrie cutting clean through one merc's armor. A grenade landed nearby, forcing her to dive into new cover, rolling behind a scorched pillar. She took a breath, felt the whir of her cybernetic arm compensating, and popped up again to fire a pinpoint burst through another merc’s helmet.

The sounds of battle thundered around them—crashing gunfire, screaming steel, shouts of dying men. The entire ship shook beneath them as explosions in the distance rocked the superstructure.

In the center of it all, Kuril stood behind his glowing shields, unmoved and cold.

The prison ship groaned and buckled around them, the metal shrieking under the strain of internal explosions as the final stretch of the battle raged. Fire licked at exposed conduits and flickered through broken bulkheads while klaxons wailed, barely audible over the roaring chaos of the fight. Every breath was thick with smoke and heat.

The squad moved like a machine. Mari and Garrus laid down punishing fire to keep the remaining mercs at bay while Alexis advanced with relentless focus. Above them, Tali ducked beneath a hanging conduit and slammed her omni-tool into the nearest pylon control, hacking the shield barrier faster than most could blink. Across the room, Kasumi shimmered back into view just long enough to disable the final generator, her cloak flickering before she disappeared again into cover.

With a surge of crackling light, the shield barrier collapsed around Warden Kuril.

"Now!" Alexis barked.

Freed from the protective barrier, Kuril tried to make a final stand with his M-76 Revenant roaring in his hands. But for all his bluster and bravado, he was no match for the sheer discipline and fury of Alexis and her squad. Garrus’s shots hammered his armor, Mari’s shotgun blew apart his cover, and Alexis’s Valkyrie rounds tore into his chest. The Warden stumbled, tried to raise his rifle again, and fell face-first into the smoke-filled floor, lifeless.

Mari stepped up without hesitation, slinging the heavy Revenant rifle over her shoulder. "Might as well bring back a trophy," she muttered.

They didn’t linger. The ship groaned again beneath their boots, and the lighting above flickered erratically. With urgency in their steps, the squad pushed up the stairs toward the docking port, the smoke curling behind them like a vengeful spirit.

As the docking port doors slid open, the squad stepped into the corridor just in time to witness Jack in action. Two Blue Suns guards were thrown across the corridor in opposite directions, their bodies hitting the bulkheads with sickening force. The biotic energy still crackled around her as she turned toward the hangar window.

Her eyes locked on the Normandy. On the Cerberus logos painted along its hull.

She let out a guttural scream of frustration.

When she turned to face the approaching squad, her entire body was coiled like a loaded weapon. Her eyes burned with rage and suspicion. "What the hell do you want?"

Alexis didn’t break stride. She stepped forward, calm but firm. "I'm Commander Alexis'Shepard vas Normandy, and I'm here to get you off this ship."

Jack's expression twisted. "I'm not going anywhere with Cerberus."

Alexis gestured to her team, all standing behind her—Mari, Tali, Garrus, Kasumi. "You wouldn't be. You'd be going with us. Cerberus might've given me the ship, but it's mine. We don't answer to them. We use their resources, not their rules."

Jack tilted her head slightly, considering. Her eyes moved from one face to the next, studying the group of well-armed strangers, clearly not Cerberus operatives. She frowned. "Look, you want me to come with you, prove it isn't some Cerberus trap. Make it worth my time."

Alexis arched an eyebrow. "What do you want?"

"I bet your ship has access to all kinds of Cerberus databases. I want to look through every one of them. I want to see everything Cerberus has ever said, written, or recorded about me."

Alexis didn’t hesitate. "Done."

Jack narrowed her eyes, watching her closely, trying to see if there was any deception behind the mirrored visor. Finding none, she cracked a crooked smirk. "Good. Why are we still standing here then?"

Together, the squad turned, leading Jack toward the waiting Kodiak shuttle. The Normandy detached from the burning hulk of Purgatory seconds later, the prison ship collapsing in on itself behind them.

They didn’t look back.

~

Back on the Normandy, the silence of space was a welcome contrast to the chaos of the prison ship tearing itself apart behind them. The hum of the ship's engines was steady and familiar, grounding. Alexis stood in the briefing room, waiting as the door slid open to admit Miranda and Jack.

Jack strode in like she owned the place, every inch of her body language exuding defiance. Tattoos coiled over her arms and across her collarbones, her stance loose and aggressive like a cornered animal that had decided to attack instead of run.

Miranda, ever composed, met Jack’s venomous glare with a cool, practiced detachment. "Welcome to the Normandy. I'm Miranda Lawson. Executive Officer of this vessel. On this ship, we follow orders—regardless of background."

Jack gave a dry bark of laughter and folded her arms, her tattoos flexing with the motion. "Tell the Cerberus cheerleader to chill out, Shepard. I'm not here to play soldier or pretend to give a damn about your command structure. I'm here because of our deal—and because blowing that place sky-high felt like the right call."

The air between them turned electric. Two powerful biotics, different in every way, yet both radiating raw confidence and intensity. Jack's stance was unruly, unafraid. Miranda's posture was rigid, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp. They studied each other with mutual scrutiny—as if each were trying to decide whether to kill the other or something else entirely.

Alexis sighed through her nose, hands planted firmly on the table. "Miranda will give you access to Cerberus’s files. I want you to see for yourself exactly what we’re up against—and what they’ve done. Then we talk."

Jack tilted her head and grinned with the menace of a predator who’d just been handed a bloody steak. "Hear that, precious? We’re gonna be roomies—me, you, and all of Cerberus’s dirty little secrets. You’ve got your files; I’ve got my fun."

She started toward the elevator, boots thudding with casual defiance. "I'll be reading in the hold. Low deck. Not big on crowds. And keep your people outta my face unless you want me redecorating. With blood."

Miranda didn’t flinch. Her arms stayed crossed, but her gaze narrowed slightly as she watched Jack walk off. There was still tension in her jaw when she finally turned to follow, but something else too—a flicker of thoughtfulness beneath her perfectly sculpted features. Wariness, curiosity, or maybe even the beginning of something stranger.

She didn’t speak. Just moved to fulfill her role, heels clicking on the metal floor as she disappeared after Jack. Alexis stayed behind, rubbing at the tension building in her neck. She had a feeling this was either the worst idea—or the best decision—she’d made all week.

Chapter 27: XXVII

Summary:

Moments with the crew, and landing on Korlus.

Notes:

Slightly shorter chapter this week, partly due to being a busy week and couldn't finish editing the rest of the Warlord mission drafts and spending time with bonding. Plus looking at my draft the rest of this mission is going to be most of a chapter still xD

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXVII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The soft hum of Mordin's lab was a comfort in itself, all whirring scanners and the subtle pulse of glowing terminals. Alexis stood by one of the side tables, arms loosely crossed over her chest as she watched Mordin move between stations with his typical frenetic energy. The lab was an organized chaos of sample tubes, datapads, and faintly humming analyzers.

"You ever stop moving?" Alexis asked, the corner of her mouth twitching beneath her helmet.

"Stimulation essential. Thought process linked to physical activity. Pacing increases processing speed. STG habit. Hard to break," Mordin replied without looking up from his console.

Alexis tilted her head. "STG? You were with the Special Tasks Group?"

Mordin finally paused, looking up. "Yes. Worked under young Captain Kirrahe. Very disciplined. Focused. Took his duty seriously. Operated on Sur'Kesh, Tuchanka, and several undisclosed locations. Many classified missions. Tactical espionage, biological warfare evaluation, population impact studies."

"Kirrahe..." Alexis echoed, memory surfacing. "He was the one who led the diversion team on Virmire. Held the line while I took out the base."

Mordin nodded with approval. "Yes. Very proud. Read mission reports. Excellent tactics. Adaptive under pressure."

Alexis leaned against the table slightly, her tone shifting. "So you weren’t just a lab tech then."

"No. Field operative. Recon and retrieval. Sample acquisition. Genophage research. Initially, strictly observation—mutation rates, subtle fertility shifts, nothing actionable. But... started seeing unexpected patterns. Krogan populations showing resilience, early signs of adaptation. Fertility rates beginning to stabilize in isolated clusters. At first, dismissed as statistical anomalies. But patterns persisted. Data undeniable. Couldn't ignore it.

Realized mission stakes too critical to conceal findings. Decided to speak openly with command. Proposed intervention. I led specialized team—bioengineers, field operatives, top geneticists—to recalibrate the genophage. Not to worsen. Not extinction. Just correction. Restabilize suppression parameters before uncontrolled population surge destabilized entire galactic balance. Horrible choices. Unpleasant work. But aimed to prevent greater suffering. Maintain fragile equilibrium. Preserve long-term survival for all species."

That made her freeze. The topic of the genophage always sat wrong with her.

"You helped design it?"

"Helped improve it. Original deployment crude. Broad-spectrum. Too many side effects. Wanted targeted solution. Reduce unnecessary suffering. Ethical debate ongoing, yes. But war forces choices. Ugly ones."

Alexis didn’t say anything at first, just watched him as he returned to his console. "I get the science. Doesn’t make it easier to live with."

Mordin paused, just long enough to suggest he’d heard more than her words. "Agree. Still... better to live with the weight of difficult choices than to ignore them altogether."

She nodded slowly, letting out a breath. "Thanks for sharing that, Mordin."

"Did not share for forgiveness. Only truth. Understanding optional. But honesty necessary."

Their eyes met across the lab, a quiet acknowledgement passing between them—a bond forged not in agreement, but in mutual respect.

"Curiosity remains, yes? Questions expected. Answers provided within operational limits. Always happy to contribute."

With a faint hum of the lab's systems behind them, Alexis turned and headed out, her thoughts heavier but clearer for the conversation.

~

After her conversation with Mordin, Alexis made her way up to the CIC, boots quietly echoing against the deck plating. The familiar hum of the ship’s core systems was oddly soothing as she crossed through the command center toward her yeoman’s station. Kelly Chambers stood at her post, bright-eyed despite the long hours she likely kept monitoring crew morale. Her face lit up with a professional but warm smile when she saw Alexis approach.

"Commander," Kelly greeted, standing a bit straighter and offering a respectful nod.

"Just checking in, Kelly. Wanted to make sure the ship’s running smoothly and if there’s anything I should know about the crew," Alexis said, her tone casual but carrying the weight of command.

Kelly smiled again and tapped a few keys on her console to bring up her detailed reports. She always seemed organized and prepared, despite how much she had to juggle. "Everything’s holding together well, Commander. Morale’s steady, all things considered. Some minor tensions, but nothing unexpected on a ship like this. Though, if I’m being honest, I do have a few concerns."

Alexis tilted her head slightly, intrigued. "Concerns? About who?"

Kelly glanced thoughtfully toward the crew quarters below, her expression turning more serious. "Jack, mostly. Her tattoos are as vibrant and chaotic as I’m sure her past is. But it’s not just her record that has me worried—it’s her temperament. She’s volatile, quick to anger. I have no doubt she’ll be reliable under fire—she channels her rage with remarkable precision. But it’s the quieter moments, the downtime, where she seems most unsettled."

Alexis crossed her arms and leaned casually against the railing. "Go on."

Kelly took a breath, choosing her words carefully. "She pushes people away but approaches sex and relationships casually, almost like she’s trying to fill a void she can’t explain. It’s a textbook avoidance mechanism. Emotional intimacy terrifies her, but she craves connection. That contradiction creates an internal storm she hasn’t even begun to reckon with. She wears her walls like armor, Commander, and behind those walls? I don’t think she’s ever really felt safe with anyone. Not once."

Alexis let out a slow breath, her thoughts turning over everything she’d observed about Jack. The biotic powerhouse who wore her anger and independence like a second skin, but who also seemed haunted in the rare moments of quiet.

Kelly continued softly, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "I think she’s waiting for someone to prove to her that she can be safe, that she doesn’t have to fight everything and everyone. But she’s also terrified that if she lets anyone close, it’ll just hurt more when they leave—or worse, betray her."

Alexis was quiet for a long moment, nodding slowly. "Yeah... that tracks. I’ll keep an eye on her. And if you have any suggestions, Kelly, I’m open to them."

Kelly seemed surprised by that, but grateful. "Thank you, Commander. I’ll keep monitoring, and I’ll let you know if I think of anything that might help. Sometimes, all it takes is someone refusing to give up on her, even when she tries to push them away."

Alexis offered a faint smile beneath her helmet. Her voice was low and sincere when she spoke. "It’s the crew that keeps this ship flying, Kelly. We don’t leave anyone behind—not out there, and not in here." She tapped a gloved finger against the side of her helmet, near her temple.

Kelly smiled in return, a touch of gratitude softening her features. "Understood, Commander. And thank you… for caring. Not every CO makes this part of their mission."

Alexis straightened, ready to return to her duties. "It’s more important than most people realize. Keep me informed, Kelly. And don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything."

"I will, Commander. Safe travels."

With a final nod, Alexis turned and made her way back toward the elevator, her thoughts lingering heavily on Jack. As much as they fought the Collectors out there in the vastness of space, it was these quiet, unseen moments within her crew that mattered just as much. And she intended to win those too.

Alexis stepped off the elevator onto the engineering deck, the low thrum of the Normandy’s drive core resonating through her boots. The familiar hiss of coolant and hum of machinery filled the air, but it was the sound of laughter and banter that caught her attention.

She turned toward the core and spotted Tali crouched beside the FBA couplings, tools in hand, her helmet tilted slightly in concentration. Just beside her, leaning on a nearby console, stood Gabriella Daniels, arms crossed and amused. Kenneth Donnelly stood opposite them, wiping his hands on a rag, the grin on his face only growing wider as he finished some crude but enthusiastic comment about the "fine engineering of both the Normandy and the women who keep her running."

Gabby didn’t miss a beat. "You keep talking like that, Ken, and I’ll weld your mouth shut."

"Just sayin'! It takes skill to keep this beauty running," Ken replied with a wink at Tali, who let out a mechanical-sounding sigh over her comm. "And you know I mean the ship, lass. Mostly."

"You’ll fall apart without me," Gabby teased, nudging him in the ribs. "Admit it."

"That’s not a lie."

Alexis cleared her throat lightly, amused by the exchange. Three heads turned to face her.

"Commander!" Ken straightened, almost knocking over a data tablet. "FBA couplings are purring like a happy Varren in the sun. Tali worked magic on them."

"It wasn’t magic, just proper tools and someone who doesn’t slap a fusion spanner and pray," Tali replied with mock dryness.

Gabby chuckled. "You know, it’s been a long time since we served under someone who actually checks in. Most COs stay in the CIC and forget the engine room exists."

Alexis offered them both a small smile. "Checking in on my crew? That’s the least I can do for everything you’ve already given."

Ken scratched the back of his neck. "You saw the Reapers before the rest of us, Commander. We just want to help stop what’s coming."

"We might be working with Cerberus, but we’re not with Cerberus," Gabby added firmly. "We’re with you."

Alexis nodded slowly. "That makes you two some of the few people on this ship I trust completely. Keep the Normandy flying. We’re going to need her."

"Aye, Commander," Ken said with a proud smile.

Tali stood and gently bumped her shoulder against Alexis’s. "I’ll finish up here and catch up with you."

Alexis gave her hand a gentle squeeze before turning toward the stairwell that led to the lowest deck.

Alexis descended the flight of metal stairs into the sub-deck, the temperature dropping slightly as she entered the darker, more isolated part of the ship. The hum of the Normandy’s engineering systems was a constant undercurrent, punctuated by the faint flicker of warning lights and the occasional hiss of pressure valves. In the far corner, Jack had claimed her space. A simple cot was wedged against the bulkhead, surrounded by a chaotic scatter of personal items and a small pile of datapads. Jack sat on the cot, her arms resting loosely on her knees, tattoos glowing faintly under the low lighting.

Alexis leaned casually against one of the bulkheads, crossing her arms. "Hey. Found anything interesting in the Cerberus files yet?"

Jack glanced up, her expression unreadable for a moment before she shrugged. "Still digging. Not done yet. But… thanks for the access, Shepard. Didn’t think you’d actually hold up that end of the deal."

"I keep my promises." Alexis straightened slightly. "Anything stand out so far?"

Jack blew out a sharp breath, standing and pacing a slow circle through the limited space, her boots clanking against the grated floor. "They’re into some real nasty shit, Shepard. Biological experiments, mind-control attempts, weaponizing kids… but nothing new. Nothing I didn’t already know or suspect. I’ll forward the files to you, anyway. Just so you see it with your own eyes."

Alexis nodded once, then tilted her head slightly, her voice softer. "Mind if I ask… what’s your history with them?"

Jack stopped pacing and leaned against one of the glowing engineering conduits, the dim red light outlining the hardened angles of her face. "They raised me in a lab. From when I was a kid. Experimented on me. Tested my biotics. Pushed me until I broke… then tried to break me some more. I escaped, and I’ve been on the run ever since. They’ve been hunting me ever since." Her lips pulled back in a dangerous grin. "But soon? I’ll be the one doing the hunting."

The air grew heavy between them as Alexis processed that. She didn’t try to offer platitudes. Instead, she watched as Jack resumed pacing, her lean figure framed against the pulsing red lights.

"You think about it a lot," Alexis said quietly, almost a statement rather than a question.

"Every damn day," Jack admitted, her voice tight. "I fall asleep thinking about it. Imagine every bastard I kill wearing the face of one of them. Helps me sleep." Her fingers flexed, almost like she was trying to crush something invisible in her hand.

Alexis nodded, understanding more than she wished she did but not pushing further. "You don’t have to stay down here, you know. You don’t need to live in this pit."

Jack barked out a short laugh and vaulted up onto the metal table she’d claimed as her throne. "It’s dark, it’s quiet, and nobody bothers me down here. That’s about as close to safe as it gets for me." She leaned back on her hands, grinning now. "Besides, this ship? This baby’s a powerhouse. If it were me, I’d take this ship, go rogue, and live like a queen."

Alexis let out a genuine laugh, shaking her head. "Majority of the crew would mutiny their non-human captain before the first week was over. And there’s the small issue of the Collectors. Kinda takes the fun out of playing pirate."

Jack slid off the table, landing lightly on her feet. "Maybe. Or maybe once this is over, we’ll all be dead or free in space with this ship. Think about it, Shepard." With a shrug, she turned back toward her cot, clearly done with the conversation.

Alexis gave a small wave. "Take care of yourself, Jack." She turned and made her way back up the stairs, the echoes of Jack’s laughter trailing behind her like a ghost in the darkened corridors.

~

The hum of the Normandy’s engines provided a familiar backdrop as Mari worked in engineering, her nimble fingers expertly adjusting a power junction. From a small speaker tucked away near the console, the soft, haunting strains of an old Quarian song floated through the air. The melody was both delicate and sorrowful, layered with harmonic echoes that seemed to yearn for something far away, each note shimmering with the ache of memories long past.

Mari paused for a moment, closing her eyes behind her visor, letting the music wash over her. Memories stirred—of the Migrant Fleet, of starlit corridors and hushed lullabies sung to restless children under flickering lights. She remembered the vibration of hundreds of feet moving through narrow ship corridors, the gentle hum of recycled air, and the ever-present yearning for a home they had never known. This was a song of longing, of homes lost and never regained, of hope carried through the endless dark. It was a melody sung by mothers to comfort their children, and by the old to remember brighter days. Even now, far from the Fleet, it made her heart ache in a bittersweet way.

A soft chime cut through the melody. EDI’s voice filtered in through the nearest console, her tone curious but precise. "Chief Mari'Saalas, I am detecting harmonic structures within this audio file that fall outside standard human and Quarian entertainment parameters. May I inquire about its purpose?"

Mari glanced at the glowing blue orb of EDI’s presence nearby, a small smile playing on her lips beneath her helmet. She set her tools aside and crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly toward the AI. "It’s an old song from the Fleet. We call them ‘Star Songs.’ They’re meant to be sung when you feel far from home… or when you’re dreaming about a new one." Her voice grew softer, almost reverent. "It’s a reminder that no matter how far we travel, we carry our people with us—in our hearts, and in our songs."

"I understand the technical structure," EDI responded, her voice analytical yet touched with a hint of curiosity. "The music utilizes overlapping resonant frequencies and recursive harmonics. It is mathematically intriguing, but… I do not understand why it is classified as beautiful."

Mari chuckled quietly and leaned back against the bulkhead, wiping her hands on a cloth before settling into a more relaxed position. "It’s not about the math, keelah. It’s about the feeling it gives you. The ache in your chest. The hope that—just maybe—things will be better one day." She glanced toward the ceiling as if looking beyond the cold metal and into the endless stars. "It’s the kind of beauty you don’t need to understand. You just have to feel it."

She reached over and adjusted the volume, letting the melody swell and fill the engineering deck. The notes seemed to dance through the air, weaving between the consoles and casting a sense of quiet wonder through the space. Mari let her fingers trace idle patterns along the worn fabric of her sleeves, her voice almost a whisper. "You don’t have to understand it to enjoy it. Just… listen."

For a few moments, there was only the music. EDI fell silent, her digital presence flickering slightly as if she were processing something deeper than code and data. Even without a physical form, it felt like she was truly there—present in a way that transcended circuitry.

Finally, EDI spoke again, her voice quieter, almost hesitant. "I believe… I may enjoy it."

Mari smiled faintly beneath her helmet and turned back to her work, her heart feeling lighter despite the weight of the past. "That’s all that matters. Sometimes, EDI… it’s enough just to feel it." She reached out and gave the console housing EDI’s core systems a gentle pat, as if reassuring a friend. And for the first time, Mari thought she could feel the faintest trace of warmth from the AI in return.

~

The low thrum of the Normandy’s drive core echoed faintly through the bulkheads as Alexis stood at the workbench in the ship’s armory, carefully examining the disassembled components of her Valkyrie rifle. Her helmet remained sealed, the reflective visor hiding the flickers of emotion playing across her features as she focused on the delicate internal systems. Across from her, Mari crouched over a small diagnostic panel, her hands working with fluid precision as she calibrated a new thermal regulation system for the rifle’s barrel.

Mari’s fingers moved deftly across the tools, her visor glinting under the overhead lights. She glanced up at Alexis, her tone light with teasing affection. “You know, Lexi, you’ve still got that exact same look on your face from when you were a kid—back when you were trying to brute-force that old holo-puzzle I gave you.” Her voice warmed with the fondness of the memory. “Completely focused. Completely convinced you could force the thing to work by sheer willpower alone.”

Alexis huffed a short breath through the external comms of her helmet and shot her mother a playful glare behind the tinted visor. “Hey, I figured it out eventually, didn’t I?”

Mari chuckled, a soft, rich sound that echoed in the confined space. “Mmmhmm, after you tried to pry it open with a spoon and then threatened to ‘accidentally’ jettison it out an airlock.”

Alexis shook her head with a smirk, fingers adjusting the magnetic stabilizers on the rifle. “Adapt and overcome, Mum. You drilled that into me, remember?”

“That I did,” Mari admitted, her tone half-proud, half-exasperated as she finished her adjustments and slid the panel back into place. Her eyes lingered on Alexis’s hands as she picked up the micro-soldering tool, the arc of the fine welding tip sparking against the exposed circuits. Mari winced slightly when the weld came out uneven, a rough bead of alloy marring the otherwise pristine work.

“Keelah, Lexi… you’re still terrible at soldering,” Mari teased, stepping closer with a slight shake of her head.

Alexis groaned, setting the tool down with an exaggerated sigh that came through her helmet’s audio filters with a faint static undertone. “You’d think after all this—cybernetics, Geth-enhanced processing, and everything else—I’d be better at this by now.”

Mari stood behind her daughter and reached around, gently guiding Alexis’s gloved hands. “It’s not just about precision, love. It’s about patience and feel. You always had the first in abundance. But the second?” She gave a light shake of her head, smiling knowingly. “That’s always been a work in progress.”

For a brief moment, Alexis relaxed under her mother’s touch, the tension in her shoulders easing. Mari’s hands moved with practiced grace as she took the soldering tool and completed the weld with a flawless, seamless line.

Alexis crossed her arms, a wry grin playing under her visor as she tilted her head. “Show-off,” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the helmet comms.

Mari laughed softly, her bioluminescent freckles glowing faintly in the dim lighting. “That’s what mothers are for,” she said, the affection in her voice unmistakable. “Besides, one day you’ll thank me when this weapon saves your life. You know it will.”

At that, Alexis sobered slightly, her shoulders straightening. She reached out, resting her gloved hand briefly on her mother’s arm. “I always do, Mum. I always do.”

For a while after that, they worked in a comfortable silence, the soft clicks and hums of tools and systems filling the air. Outside, the stars streaked past the viewport as the Normandy glided through the vastness of space toward its next mission. Together—mother and daughter, engineer and warrior—they prepared for whatever lay ahead. In the quiet moments between battles and duty, it was these simple moments of connection that kept them whole.

The quiet hum of the Normandy seemed almost louder now as the work on the weapon was done. The Valkyrie rested on the bench between them, its sleek form gleaming under the soft lights. Alexis leaned back against the bulkhead, her fingers unconsciously tracing the intricate patterns along the rifle’s casing. Mari sat close by, perched on the corner of the workbench, her arms folded, a rare stillness settling over her.

For a long moment, neither spoke. The silence was comforting, but heavy, as if something unspoken lingered in the space between them. Finally, Mari exhaled a slow, shaky breath.

"You know, siha…" Her voice was softer now, more vulnerable, using the old term of endearment she had always used for her daughter. "I worry I won’t be around long enough to see you really heal from all this. To see you find peace. I want to believe you’ll have that quiet life with Tali someday… but I’m terrified I won’t be there to see it."

Alexis’s head snapped up, her throat tightening. She opened her mouth to brush it off, to say something light, but the words stuck. Her fingers clenched into a fist against the cool metal of her helmet. "Don’t… don’t talk like that, Mum," she muttered, her voice hoarse and cracking. "You’re the strongest person I know. You’ll be there. You have to be."

Mari gave her a soft, knowing smile, but her eyes were bright with emotions she hadn’t yet voiced. "We both know how dangerous this life is, siha. And I’m not saying this to make you sad… I’m saying it because every moment counts. And I don’t want to waste a single one pretending we’re invincible."

Alexis swallowed hard. "I’m scared too…" she admitted, barely above a whisper. "Terrified of losing you. Of losing the only real home I’ve ever had."

Mari reached out, resting a gentle hand over Alexis’s. "Then we make a promise," she said, her voice firmer now, warm and resolute. "However long we have, we spend it together. No regrets. Just memories worth holding onto."

Alexis looked up at her mother, her eyes shining faintly behind the visor. She took a steadying breath and nodded. "Alright, Mum. No regrets. Just… stay safe, okay? Please?"

Mari leaned forward, pressing her forehead gently against Alexis’s helmet, a quiet and tender gesture that spoke louder than words. "You too, siha. You too."

And for the first time in a long while, amidst the war and the endless uncertainty, they simply sat there together—mother and daughter, sharing a quiet moment of peace in the eye of the storm.

~

The mess was quiet at this hour, most of the crew off duty or tucked away in their quarters. The low hum of the Normandy’s engines thrummed through the deck plates like a heartbeat, a soft, reassuring presence beneath their feet. The lights were dimmed, casting the room in a warm glow that softened the edges of the utilitarian space. Amidst this quiet sanctuary, Alexis and Tali stood side by side in the mess kitchen, their movements slow and unhurried, wrapped in the rare tranquility that only moments like this could bring.

Tali worked gracefully at the purification system, her gloved hands adjusting the intricate controls with practiced ease. Alexis stood impossibly close, her helmet tipped toward Tali’s as if the mere nearness of her beloved was a source of gravity she couldn’t resist. Even with their helmets on, their body language spoke volumes—leaning into one another, their hands brushing in the smallest of touches that felt electric despite the barriers between them.

"You’re getting better at this," Tali teased softly, her voice warm and teasing over the private comm channel. Her fingers grazed against Alexis’s as she passed her a carefully sealed packet of dried elasa herbs.

Alexis let out a low, affectionate chuckle, her voice thick with emotion beneath the teasing tone. "I’ve got the best teacher. Though I still think this whole process feels more complicated than reconfiguring a Mass Effect core."

Tali laughed, the sound like a chime of light through the comm, her bioluminescent freckles softly glowing under her visor. "That’s only because you keep trying to cut corners, siha. Quarian cuisine isn’t just about survival—it’s about savoring the patience that kept our people alive for centuries."

Alexis took the herbs and stirred them carefully into the simmering pot, the specialized sterilized spoon glinting in the low light. Her movements slowed, her mind wandering back to her earlier conversation with Mari. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and without thinking, she reached out, her gloved fingers tracing a gentle line down Tali’s arm as if needing to anchor herself to something real, something good.

Tali paused, her head tilting slightly toward Alexis. "Lexi?" she asked gently, her voice laced with that familiar concern that always managed to make Alexis’s heart ache and heal all at once.

Alexis inhaled deeply, her words soft, raw, and unguarded. "I was just thinking about earlier… with Mum. It hit me how lucky I am. To still have her. To have you. To have… this." Her fingers tightened just slightly against Tali’s arm, her voice dropping into a whisper. "I don’t think I say it enough, but I’m so grateful for every moment we have together."

Tali set down the cooking instrument, her hands reaching out to gently take Alexis’s in her own. "You say it, siha," she murmured, her voice rich with emotion. "You say it in every touch, every breath, every time you reach for me like you are right now. That’s why I’m here. And why I will always be here."

Alexis closed the small distance between them, resting her forehead gently against Tali’s helmet. Their visors touched with a faint, loving clink, the most intimate gesture in their culture, one that transcended words. Alexis let out a shuddering breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her tension easing in the warmth of Tali’s presence.

They stood like that for what felt like eternity, their hands entwined, their hearts beating in sync with the soft pulse of the ship around them. In that moment, there were no Collectors, no looming missions, no death waiting just beyond the next star. There was only the two of them, here and now.

Later, with the meals carefully prepared and sealed, ready to be taken back to their quarters, Alexis carried the containers while Tali’s hand found hers once more. Their fingers laced together naturally, perfectly, as if they had always belonged there. Together, they walked out of the mess, their footsteps slow and measured, unwilling to break the spell of this rare, perfect peace amidst the chaos of their lives.

The mess was still and quiet, the lights dimmed to a gentle glow when EDI’s holographic sphere flickered to life above a nearby projector. The soft blue light spun gently as her synthesized voice echoed through the space.

"Commander Shepard, Miss Zorah, I have been monitoring the culinary preparations. May I inquire—what is the purpose of these activities when neither of you are currently in need of sustenance?"

Alexis chuckled under her breath, still holding the sealed meal packs. "Comfort food, EDI. It’s not about need—it’s about… well, comfort. It’s something you make and share with people you care about. It feels like home."

Tali nodded, leaning slightly against Alexis’s side. "It’s part of bonding, EDI. The process, the smells, the familiarity. Even if it’s just for a little while, it makes you feel safe."

EDI’s sphere pulsed as she processed the information. "I do not possess taste receptors, nor do I experience emotional states in the organic sense. However, I am capable of recording and analyzing the sensory data. Would you allow me to participate in this… comfort ritual?"

Alexis shared a glance with Tali, smiling warmly. "Sure, EDI. Let’s give you the full experience."

With that, Alexis carefully opened one of the sterilized meal packs, allowing the rich, spiced aroma of the elasa herbs to fill the air. Tali explained each scent, each ingredient, describing the memories they carried from her childhood aboard the Rayya. Alexis added her own memories—of quiet nights in the engineering decks when she was younger, listening to Mari hum old Quarian songs while preparing similar meals.

EDI’s sphere hovered closer, her sensors fully active, recording every particle and nuance of the experience. "Processing… I am unable to physically experience these sensations. However, based on analysis of crew morale reports and the emotional tones in your voices, I am beginning to understand why such rituals are significant."

Tali tilted her head. "It’s okay that you can’t taste it, EDI. It’s the sharing of it that matters."

EDI’s voice took on the faintest hint of curiosity. "Would you like me to integrate comfort-based meal planning into the crew’s schedules? Prioritizing morale over efficiency in certain cases?"

Alexis smiled beneath her helmet. "I think that’s a great idea, EDI. Sometimes a hot meal and familiar scents can keep a crew going longer than any ration bar."

"Understood, Commander. I will adjust meal preparation algorithms accordingly. And… thank you for sharing this with me. It was… illuminating."

As the hologram flickered out, Alexis turned to Tali, their fingers brushing together. "See? Even EDI’s learning about the importance of comfort."

Tali gave a soft, fond laugh. "It’s a good night for that, siha. A good night for remembering what we’re fighting for."

Together, they gathered their prepared meals and walked back toward their quarters, feeling lighter, knowing even amidst the cold precision of war and technology, they were still able to share something warm and real.

Back in their quarters, the air was warmer, quieter, and softer than anywhere else on the ship. Helmets and suits carefully set aside and environmental seals triple-checked, Alexis and Tali curled together on the couch, their bodies close, the chaos of the galaxy forgotten for a while.

Alexis sat back against the cushions, her arm gently wrapped around Tali, who leaned into her side with a soft sigh. Tali’s bare legs curled against Alexis’s, her skin soft against the cool touch of the cybernetics on Alexis’s thigh. The difference in sensation was startling at first, but comforting in its own way—a reminder of what had been lost, but also what was still so achingly real and alive between them. Her toes traced small patterns along Alexis’s shin, reveling in the rare freedom of skin against skin.

Tali’s hands moved slowly, almost reverently, her fingertips trailing over the smooth lines of Alexis’s skin before brushing over the sleek metallic edges of her cybernetics. She didn’t shy away from them—she never had. Her touch was as gentle and loving over the cool metal as it was over warm skin, her fingers tracing the faint glowing lines beneath the surface. With every pass of her fingers, Alexis felt a warmth unfurl in her chest, a fragile sense of peace that only Tali could ever give her.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Tali murmured, her voice low, her breath warm against Alexis’s shoulder. She leaned closer, pressing her lips softly to the curve where flesh met metal, a kiss as delicate as starlight. Her breath left the faintest fog against the skin before she rested her cheek there, listening to the steady rhythm of Alexis’s breathing.

Alexis swallowed hard, her hand tightening gently at Tali’s waist. “I’m… I’m still getting used to all of this, siha. But with you… it’s easier. You make it easier.”

Tali smiled against her skin, her lips curving into a soft, knowing expression. “Then let me help you remember how much of you is still here. How much I love every part of you, Alexis—flesh, metal, everything. None of that changes what’s here…” She placed her palm over Alexis’s chest, right above her heart, feeling its strong, steady beat beneath her hand. “…where it matters most.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, the hum of the Normandy’s engines a distant lullaby. The room felt like its own little sanctuary, wrapped in warmth and the soft glow of the ship’s ambient lighting. Alexis ran her fingers through Tali’s loose hair, savoring the silkiness of each strand as she leaned her head back and simply breathed for what felt like the first time all day.

When they finally reached for their meals, it was slow and unhurried, their touches lingering between every bite. There were shared looks, soft smiles, and light kisses between spoonfuls. Every moment was a quiet promise spoken without words—a reminder that whatever the galaxy threw at them next, they had this. They had each other.

For now, that was all they needed. And it was more than enough.

~

Before they even seemed to realize it, the Normandy dropped smoothly out of FTL and into orbit around Korlus. The planet hung below them like a battered, rust-stained coin against the black. Described by more than one spacer as "a garbage scow with a climate," Korlus lived up to its reputation. From the viewport, sprawling metallic graveyards stretched across entire continents—rusted wrecks of ships, crumbling industrial hulks, and miles upon miles of twisted steel and forgotten machinery. Even from orbit, the toxic brown haze over its surface was visible, a sickly smear against the horizon.

It was the kind of place where ambition went to die and desperation thrived. And if the reports were accurate, it also ranked second in murders per capita across the entire Terminus Systems, and first in offworlder murder. Garrus had muttered under his breath when the mission briefing came up, "Guess they’re proud of that statistic."

Now in the hangar bay outside the waiting Kodiak shuttle, the squad gathered, gearing up for what was sure to be a rough insertion. Alexis stood near the shuttle ramp, her helmet on and sealed, HUD running tactical overlays. She adjusted the shoulder straps of her customized armor and checked the seals once more. Beside her, Tali worked through final diagnostics on her suit systems, her fingers dancing across her omni-tool as she ran a clean sweep. Mari stood close, her presence a calm, familiar anchor as she checked the power settings on her new M-76 Revenant, the massive weapon slung across her back with practiced ease.

Garrus leaned against the bulkhead with his usual casual swagger, though his newly reinforced armor suggested he wasn’t underestimating this mission. His helmet hung from his side, mandibles twitching in thought. "I’m guessing the locals aren’t going to greet us with welcome banners and a fruit basket," he drawled.

Miranda arrived last, for once not wearing her usual skintight Cerberus uniform. Instead, she was clad in a sleek, practical set of light armor. The Cerberus logo had been carefully removed from the chest plate. It was a small concession, but one Alexis appreciated. Miranda approached with a tablet, double-checking squad loadouts and mission objectives. Despite their differences, Alexis knew she’d need Miranda’s biotic support in the field—and this mission was as good a time as any to try and build that professional trust.

"All systems green. Ready when you are, Commander," Miranda said, her tone clipped but professional.

Alexis gave a final glance over her team. Her voice came through the squad comms, clear and resolute. "Tight formation. Watch each other’s backs. We go in hard, but we keep our heads. Stay sharp, and let’s get this done."

The team filed into the shuttle, the heavy doors sealing with a mechanical hiss as Joker’s voice crackled over the comm. "Alright, Commander. Dropping you right into the heart of paradise. Try not to get murdered in the first five minutes. I like my betting pool odds a little longer."

Alexis allowed a small, humorless smile behind her visor. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Joker. Take us in."

The Kodiak rumbled beneath them as it detached from the Normandy and dropped toward the toxic scrapyard world below. The storm of rusted metal and treacherous terrain awaited.

The Kodiak rattled through the toxic atmosphere of Korlus, the sky above a churning mass of sickly green clouds. Towers of rusted shipwrecks and precarious mounds of shattered hull plating loomed out of the smog as Joker skillfully wove the shuttle toward their landing zone. The squad sat silent but tense, weapons prepped and ready.

“Touchdown in twenty,” the pilots voice crackled over the comm.

Alexis stood near the hatch. “Dossier doesn’t say if Okeer is here by choice or not. Assume hostiles.”

The hatch hissed open before the shuttle fully settled. One by one, the squad dropped onto the filthy, metal-strewn ground. The air was thick with the acrid bite of burning chemicals and industrial waste. Above them, the Kodiak banked sharply and disappeared back toward high orbit.

As they moved cautiously through the mountainous scrap, the sudden blare of a loudspeaker echoed through the open spaces between the junk towers.

“There is only one measure of success. Kill or be killed! Perfection is your goal!”

Miranda rolled her eyes beneath her helmet. “Well, isn’t that charming? Broadcasting sociopathic ideology over loudspeakers. Classy.”

Mari’s voice crackled over squad comms, her tone laced with dark humor. “At least we know what we’re dealing with. Would hate to be disappointed by the hospitality.”

The loudspeaker crackled again, its harsh tone distorted by old wiring and static.

“Being hired is merely the beginning. You must earn your place in the mighty army we are building!”

They pushed forward, navigating through corridors formed by towering walls of salvaged ship parts and broken mechs. It wasn’t long before they reached an elevated observation post, heavily guarded by Blue Suns mercs perched behind makeshift barricades of scrap metal and shipping containers.

Alexis raised a clenched fist, signaling the squad to drop into cover behind a collapsed freighter wing. Her voice came low and controlled over the comms. “Mark your targets. Quick and clean.”

Garrus moved first, smoothly rolling from his cover. In a blink, his Mantis sniper rifle barked, the sharp crack cutting through the heavy air as one merc dropped with a clean headshot. Miranda surged out from behind a stack of engine cores, her biotics flaring to life with a pulse of brilliant blue. She lifted two of the mercs into the air, their screams strangled as their weapons flailed uselessly.

The Quarian trio moved as one, darting from cover like streaks of deadly precision. Tali and Mari broke left and right, their shotguns roaring in the confined space, shattering the Blue Suns lines. Alexis advanced straight through the center, her Valkyrie rifle barking in precise bursts, each shot finding its mark.

Within moments, the last of the mercs fell silent. The battlefield settled into uneasy calm, the only sound the faint crackle of burning debris.

Alexis swept her rifle in a slow arc, checking for any hidden threats.

“Clear. Keep moving,” she ordered, her voice hard with focus.

Above them, the loudspeaker flared to life once more, and Alexis’s jaw clenched. Whatever waited ahead, it was clear they were walking straight into the heart of it.

As they pushed past the outpost, the squad found themselves in a narrow trench cut between towering walls of rusted starship hulls and broken mechs. The scent of scorched metal and blood hung thick in the air. Amid the debris, a wounded Blue Suns merc lay propped against a jagged metal beam, clutching at a bleeding wound in his side. His breathing came fast and shallow, his eyes wild with panic as he tried to press a dirty cloth against the injury.

"Stay back!" he barked, his voice cracking despite the bravado. "I don’t know anything, alright? Merc, Alliance, whatever—go screw yourselves!"

Alexis tilted her head slightly, her helmet visor catching the dim light filtering through the scrap piles. She crouched down a few paces away, flipping a vial of medi-gel casually between her gloved fingers. "Oh, we’re not here for your secrets, tough guy," she said with a smirk audible even through her helmet filters. "Just wondering if you’d rather bleed out here or maybe walk out with all your limbs attached."

The merc tried to sneer, but the pale sweat beading on his forehead betrayed him. He glanced nervously at the vial in her hand, swallowing hard. "Fine. You want something? All I know is what I hear over the comms. I don’t get paid enough to know the whole operation. Jedore’s got some old Krogan up there… calls himself a scientist or something. Keeps cleaning out the lab, says the failures aren’t worthy. Bastard keeps releasing his rejects right into the wastes. Crazy lot. That’s why I’m stationed here—to clean up the mess. Live ammo drills, they call it."

Mari crossed her arms, a hint of disgust in her voice. "Figures. Use the failures as target practice while they work their way toward a so-called 'perfect' soldier."

The merc flinched as his comm crackled to life. "Outpost 4? Respond. Jedore wants us to move. We need new coordinates on that Krogan pack. Repeat, Outpost 4, respond."

Alexis leaned in slightly, her voice lowering into a dangerous purr. "You’re going to give him something, soldier. Now."

"I—" He looked up at the figures looming over him, their weapons ready, their body language silent promises of what would happen if he refused. His shoulders sagged. "Sending now. Coordinates… uh, sector delta-six. That should keep them busy for a while."

Alexis let the vial of medi-gel spin once more through her fingers before tucking it back into her pouch. She stood up smoothly, looking down at the merc. "Start limping," she ordered. "And count yourself lucky that’s all we’re asking you to do."

He blinked, staring at them in confusion. "Wait… is it bad? Am I—?"

Alexis turned away without another word, her voice cool and even as she issued orders to the squad. "Let’s keep moving."

The merc groaned as he pulled himself to his feet, starting his limp back down the trench, still muttering under his breath about how he wasn’t paid nearly enough for this. As they resumed their path forward, Miranda fell in step beside Alexis, glancing over her shoulder at the retreating figure.

"That wound wasn’t even that bad," Miranda remarked dryly, adjusting the grip on her sidearm.

Mari chuckled softly from the other side of Alexis, her voice filled with quiet amusement. "What he doesn’t know is useful to us. Fear will keep him off our trail and away from the next fight."

Garrus let out a low whistle, his mandibles flexing in a satisfied grin. "You’re all terrifying, you know that?"

Alexis simply shrugged, her tone even and controlled. "It’s efficient."

They pressed on through the narrow trench, the jagged edges of shattered starship hulls looming like rusted cliffs on either side. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of burnt wiring and the metallic tang of blood. Ahead, a Krogan corpse lay sprawled across the path, its massive frame riddled with fresh wounds. Flies buzzed around the gaping holes torn through its thick armor, the blood beneath it still wet enough to darken the dusty ground.

Alexis held up a clenched fist, bringing the squad to a halt. She crouched next to the fallen Krogan, her gloved fingers brushing lightly against the armor plates. "Fresh kill," she murmured, her voice low through her helmet’s comm. "This wasn’t more than an hour ago."

Tali moved up beside her, visor catching the faint glimmer of the overhead light breaking through the metal wreckage. She scanned the body with her omni-tool, the soft whine of the scan mingling with the unsettling silence of the trench. "No sign of explosives. These wounds were caused by small arms fire… maybe some concentrated plasma blasts," she reported. "But they fought hard."

Mari kept watch over the squad’s rear, her Vindicator rifle steady against her shoulder. "This wasn’t a controlled termination," she muttered grimly. "More like a culling. Someone’s thinning the herd."

Alexis stood and turned her gaze down the trench toward the looming structure in the distance. A hulking mass of metal and concrete rose against the horizon, its walls lined with the faint outlines of turrets and guard posts. She felt her stomach twist, a familiar weight settling in her chest. "We’re not just walking into some warlord’s lab," she said quietly. "This is a proving ground. And if Okeer’s up there, it’s starting to look a lot less like he’s here by choice."

Miranda stepped up beside her, her gaze hard behind her visor. "Assuming he’s even still alive. This reeks of desperation. If he’s running out of test subjects, he might be accelerating whatever experiment he’s working on."

Garrus checked the charge on his sniper rifle, his mandibles clicking in thought. "I’m starting to think your definition of a ‘simple mission’ is a little warped, Shepard."

Alexis smirked despite the grimness of the situation, her fingers tightening around the grip of her Valkyrie. "Stay sharp. We’re going to find out what’s really going on up there. And if Okeer’s behind this slaughter, he’ll answer for it. One way or another."

Chapter 28: XXVIII

Summary:

Retrieval of a Warlord's Legacy

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXVIII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Alexis dropped into a crouch behind a curved piece of burned-out hull plating, the edges still faintly scorched. Bullets hissed and pinged off the scrap metal around her, the sharp tang of burning ozone filling the air as she pressed her back to the wreckage. Her Valkyrie rifle was snug against her chest, her HUD already tracking heat signatures above them. A squad of Blue Suns mercs had dug into a fortified position on a sloped ledge above the trench, using the elevation and scattered wreckage to rain fire down on the squad below.

"Could they have picked a worse spot to ambush us?" Miranda called out from behind a scorched storage crate nearby, biotic energy already swirling around her clenched fists in anticipation.

"It’s the Terminus Systems. That’s basically a challenge," Alexis muttered, popping up to return fire in short, controlled bursts. Her rifle barked with each pull of the trigger before she ducked back down. Sparks exploded against her cover as return fire chased her down.

"Mari, Garrus, any chance you two can deal with those snipers up top?" she asked over the comms.

"Already sighted," Mari’s cool voice answered, clear through the squad’s channel. At the rear of the formation, she was knelt beside Garrus behind the shelter of a warped engine casing, her Viper rifle resting steady atop a piece of twisted support beam. Her eyes tracked her target with surgical precision. "Left side, roof line. Three degrees incline. Taking the shot."

The sharp crack of Mari’s rifle split the air. A Blue Suns sniper pitched backward with a strangled gurgle, vanishing behind the lip of the ledge.

"I’ll admit, your mum’s a better shot than I expected," Garrus remarked as he lined up his own shot. The bark of his sniper rifle followed a second later, sending another merc sprawling backward in a lifeless heap.

"She’s had plenty of practice," Alexis replied with a smirk behind her visor, half-proud, half-exasperated.

Beside her, Tali crouched low, her Claymore shotgun resting across her knees, fingers tapping on her omni-tool. "I can draw their fire, maybe give you a window. Send in a combat drone for extra distraction."

"No heroics," Alexis said quickly. "Just cover me and keep the pressure on. Miranda, ready to advance on my signal?"

"Standing by," Miranda confirmed, her biotics pulsing brighter.

Alexis braced herself, counted down from three, then burst from cover in a blur of motion. Her boots slammed against the rusted steel underfoot as she sprinted forward, rifle up, firing a tight burst that forced two mercs to duck. Tali launched her drone, the buzzing mechanical sphere zipping toward the Blue Suns position and unleashing an electrical blast that disrupted their cover.

Miranda stepped out next, flinging a burst of biotic energy that sent one mercenary tumbling through the air before crashing into a heap. Her follow-up Slam ability dropped another in a pulse of blue light.

Back on the ridge, another two mercs slumped to the ground with clean holes through their helmets, courtesy of Mari and Garrus.

"Advance!" Alexis called, her voice sharp with command. "We push now!"

The team surged forward, feet pounding against broken metal plating, moving as one cohesive unit. They leapt over broken consoles and slid into new cover with practiced ease, a perfect blend of firepower, biotics, and battlefield awareness.

The chaos of Korlus wrapped around them—rusting wreckage, ancient scorch marks, and forgotten machines—but the five of them carved their way through it like a precision strike.

The staccato burst of gunfire had faded for a moment, replaced by the low hum of wind whipping through the narrow metal canyon of the trench. Alexis signaled forward, raising a clenched fist before motioning ahead. Her boots squelched against the mud and oil-slicked floor as she led the way deeper into the wreckage-choked path, weapon raised, helmet glinting with firelight from a smouldering barricade behind them.

"Stay low," she ordered, her voice crackling over the comms. Tali and Miranda moved on either side, covering angles. Garrus and Mari held the rear, scanning the higher ridge lines.

They passed another corpse, a Krogan slumped against the wall, still clutching a shattered shotgun. Alexis slowed to study him for a moment. Fresh blood, not even congealed. She glanced up—whatever had killed him was close.

Then the loudspeaker crackled again, the same voice they had heard earlier—flat, processed, Blue Suns.

"All personnel: bonuses will be forfeit if intruders are not eliminated within the next ten minutes. Commander Waseeda’s orders. No exceptions."

"Charming," Garrus muttered. "Bet they wouldn’t even pay out if they won."

Mari scoffed. "They wouldn’t. Mercs like this always talked big, but they cut and ran the second the tide turned."

A burst of fire erupted from the far corner—bullets pinging off twisted metal as a new group of mercs opened up. Alexis dropped, rolled into cover, and returned fire.

"Right side, three contacts!" she barked.

Miranda’s biotics flared, slamming one into the trench wall with a wet crunch. Tali darted forward, hurling an overload that fried the second merc’s shields. Mari dropped him cleanly with her rifle. Garrus finished the last with a well-placed round between the eyes.

"Clear," Alexis called, already rising, breath sharp. "Keep moving."

They pressed on, weaving between massive broken engine parts and rusted hull fragments. More dead Krogan lined the path, twisted in agony, many with their tanks shattered or still leaking pale fluid.

"This wasn’t a war zone," Tali murmured, her voice soft. "It was a test site. Or a trap."

"You think Okeer did this?" Miranda asked.

"Maybe," Alexis replied. "Or maybe he just watched."

Ahead, the trench narrowed—an artificial choke point. Alexis held up her hand again. "Stack up. Likely ambush."

The squad moved with silent efficiency. Mari kept her rifle trained high. Tali scanned the walls for mines. Garrus and Miranda took flanking positions as Alexis slowly stepped into the tightest section.

The smell hit her first—old blood, burned metal, and chemical rot. Then the sound—slow, rhythmic breathing, not quite mechanical.

Whatever lay ahead, it wasn’t just more mercs.

"Eyes up," Alexis said, quiet but firm. "Something’s waiting for us."

They pushed through the choke point slowly, weapons raised and eyes sharp, every shadow a potential ambush. But instead of another wave of mercs, the trench widened unexpectedly into a ruined courtyard—walls of broken hull plating and collapsed gantries towering on either side. Smoke and sparks drifted lazily through the air.

In the center, a Krogan roared, hurling a Blue Suns merc across the open space like a ragdoll. Two others fired on him desperately, one already limping, the other reloading with shaking hands. The squad needed no orders.

"On them!" Alexis shouted.

They moved as one. Miranda raised a biotic shield, deflecting fire while Mari and Garrus opened up from the flanks. Tali sent a combat drone skittering forward with a shriek of static. Alexis surged up the middle, her assault rifle barking death.

Seconds later, it was over. The mercs lay still, smoke curling from their bodies. The Krogan didn’t move.

He stood there, chest heaving, covered in cuts and burns but clearly still strong. Alexis approached slowly, her weapon low but ready.

The Krogan turned toward her. His eyes were sharp, more aware than she expected. He tilted his head slightly and sniffed the air.

"You... are different. New. You don’t smell like this world. Seven night cycles, and I have only felt the need to kill. But you... something makes me speak."

Miranda arched a brow. "He’s only a week old?"

"They must breed them full-sized, ready to kill," Alexis said, studying the Krogan.

The Krogan growled softly, not in threat, but in thought. "Bred... to kill. No. I kill because my blood and bone tell me to. But it’s not why I was flushed from glass mother. Survival is what I hear in my head. Against the enemy that threatens all my kind. But I failed even before waking. That is what the voice in the water said. That is why I wait here."

Alexis met Tali’s eyes, a chill running down her spine. There was something hauntingly familiar about this.

She turned back to the Krogan. "Can you show me to the laboratory? I need to speak to Okeer."

The Krogan rumbled, then nodded slowly. "The... tank mother. She is up. Past the broken parts. Behind many of you fleshy things. I will show you."

Without waiting, he lumbered over to a section of the wall where scrap was piled high. With a grunt, he grabbed a sheet of metal larger than himself and hoisted it upward, muscles rippling. With a heavy slam, he tossed it aside, revealing a hidden path behind.

"Glad he’s friendly," Garrus muttered, stepping up beside Alexis.

Alexis gave the Krogan a nod of thanks and moved toward the newly revealed opening, motioning for the squad to follow.

The tunnel sloped downward, a ragged artery carved through heaps of twisted metal and shattered plating. Flickering lights buzzed overhead, some hanging by frayed wires, others already dead. The air grew heavier the deeper they went, thick with smoke, oil, and the unmistakable tang of blood.

Alexis led the way, motioning for silence. The soft crunch of boots on debris was the only sound—until distant shouting echoed up toward them.

"They’re all loose! They're loose! Shut it down, shut it do—"

The voice cut off in a burst of gunfire. A moment later, two Blue Suns mercs rounded the bend ahead, panicked and unaware.

"Contacts!" Alexis snapped.

Garrus and Mari dropped them before they even registered the squad’s presence. The thuds of their bodies echoed for a second before being drowned by a guttural roar.

A lone Krogan charged from the same corridor, plates streaked with blood and eyes wild with fury. The blood rage had taken him completely.

He opened fire wildly, forcing the squad into cover behind slabs of rusted steel and old transport hulls.

"Suppress and flank!" Alexis ordered.

Tali sent her drone skittering out while Miranda surged left, biotics ready. Garrus popped up and landed a shot that cracked the Krogan's shoulder plate. It only made him angrier.

The berserker slammed forward, taking several more rounds from Mari and Alexis before Miranda's biotics caught him mid-charge and slammed him into a wall of wreckage with a crunch that silenced him for good.

"Clear," Alexis called.

They regrouped and pushed on, deeper into the darkness. The tunnel twisted again, opening into a wider chamber lined with broken tanks and shattered consoles. Steam hissed from ruptured pipes, casting ghostly veils across the path.

Then Jedore’s voice crackled through the facility-wide loudspeaker, distorted with static and fury.

"Who authorized the release? Who? I demand an answer! All Krogan must remain contained until deployment. I will not have chaos in my compound! I will have order!"

Alexis scowled beneath her helmet. "Looks like someone lost control of her science project."

"Good," Tali muttered. "Let them see what happens when you try to play god."

The tunnel narrowed again, the walls pressing close with heaps of rusted bulkhead and collapsed gantry. The deeper they went, the louder it grew—roars and snarls reverberating through the scrap, echoing like the thunder of an oncoming storm.

Then they came.

The Krogan surged out of the darkness in waves, guns flashing, eyes burning with primal fury. No tactics, no hesitation—only rage. The bloodlust had consumed them, each a blunt instrument of destruction hurled toward the squad.

But Alexis and her team were not new to chaos.

"Hold line. Controlled fire. Don’t let them close," she barked.

Mari and Garrus formed a rearward firing arc, cutting down the first charge with precision. Miranda flanked and struck hard with biotics, hurling one screaming Krogan into the wall so hard the metal bent inward. Tali's drone buzzed through the wreckage like an angry wasp, delivering shocking blasts that disrupted their charge.

Still, they kept coming.

One of the Krogan slipped through the withering fire, sprinting with terrifying speed. Alexis had just slammed a fresh thermal clip into her Valkyrie when the Krogan slammed into her, knocking the rifle from her grip.

She stumbled back a step, then surged forward.

With a sharp snarl, she drew her Carnifex pistol and reared back, slamming her reinforced helmet into the Krogan's head with a sickening crack. It staggered, dazed but not yet down.

Alexis didn’t wait.

She brought the heavy pistol up and jammed it under the Krogan’s chin. Her finger squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession. The report of each shot was deafening in the tight corridor.

The Krogan jerked once. Twice. Then dropped.

Alexis shoved the corpse back, letting it crash to the floor with a dull, wet thud.

She retrieved her rifle in one motion, checking it with a flick of her wrist.

"They’re not thinking. Just charging," she growled.

"They’re bred for war," Miranda said, scanning the next bend. "But not for survival. Not like this."

"Keep moving," Alexis ordered. Her voice was calm, but her blood was pounding in her ears. "We’re almost there."

They pressed on, stepping over corpses in Blue Suns colours, the mercs’ bodies twisted in unnatural angles, some clearly crushed, others torn apart. The signs of panic were everywhere—dropped weapons, half-scattered ammo packs, and the acrid smell of burned electronics.

As they climbed the stairs ahead, Alexis paused, holding up a hand. From the comms units still active on the fallen mercs, desperate voices crackled with overlapping transmissions.

"Grid’s down! Repeat, grid is blind—sensors offline—"

"They're everywhere! Krogan breached storage bay, we need—NO!"

"Jedore says hold position, but we can't see anything! We need evac, dammit!"

Tali moved to the sealed bulkhead door at the top of the stairs and dropped to one knee. Her fingers danced across her omni-tool, slicing through the security systems in a flurry of digital commands.

"Almost got it... and... there."

The door hissed open with a mechanical groan.

Gunfire and screaming echoed from the other side.

They stepped out of the tunnel and into a massive, ruined hull. The ship looked like it had been gutted by a crash and then stitched back together for dubious reuse. Entire portions of the walls were missing, replaced by open air and twisted girders. A cold wind howled through the broken ribs of the ship, scattering dust and ash across the metal deck.

"They fortified inside a wreck," Garrus muttered. "Of course they did."

Alexis didn’t respond. She was already moving.

The squad advanced, clearing rooms and ruined corridors, engaging Blue Suns as they moved. The mercs were in disarray—torn between trying to hold the line and retreating from the Krogan swarming them from the rear. Several turned to fire on the incoming squad, only to be taken down in short order.

Mari’s rifle barked as she picked off two mercs trying to fall back. Garrus laid down suppressing fire from a half-collapsed walkway above, while Miranda and Tali swept the lower decks.

"You’re trained! Act like it!" Jedore’s voice shrieked through the loudspeaker, echoing from somewhere deep within the ruined ship. "Hold your positions or I will execute every one of you myself!"

"Motivating," Miranda muttered dryly.

"They’re breaking," Alexis said, scanning the path ahead. "Push through. We hit the lab before they regroup or get desperate."

The wind howled louder through the open hull as they pressed deeper, the distant roar of Krogan battles blending with the chaos they left behind.

The squad climbed another flight of stairs, boots echoing dully against the scorched metal. The stairwell swayed slightly under their combined weight, a patchwork of salvaged platforms and reinforced beams welded into the wreck’s decaying superstructure. The further they ascended, the more the ship groaned with age and strain. Sparks danced from broken conduits embedded in the walls, while the glow of distant fires sent flickering shadows leaping across rust-streaked bulkheads.

Over the ship’s loudspeakers, Jedore’s voice cracked through the chaos, sharp with fury, brittle with desperation.

"You useless grubs! Deal with the intruders! I’m going to deal with Okeer myself. He’s compromised the entire operation. Kill the outsiders, or I’ll kill you all myself!"

"She’s losing it," Garrus muttered, his visor glowing faintly as he scanned the level above. "That’s not orders. That’s panic."

"Desperate commanders make reckless mistakes," Miranda replied, stepping carefully around a buckled support strut. "And she knows she’s running out of time."

"Which means we move fast," Alexis said, her voice tight. "Before she seals herself in with Okeer or does something even dumber."

At the top of the stairs, the squad encountered another line of Blue Suns mercs hastily forming a barricade. They had stacked metal crates chest-high, with a heavy turret only halfway through deployment. One of the mercs was frantically trying to align it while others barked conflicting orders. Their movements were jittery, uncoordinated. The fear was palpable.

"Contact!" one merc shouted, voice cracking. "They’re still coming! It’s the outsiders—they’re coming up!"

The squad didn’t slow.

Mari tossed a grenade over the barricade, the dull clink of metal followed by a concussive blast that sent crates scattering and mercs flying. Miranda surged forward, biotics flaring as she hurled one panicked merc against the bulkhead with brutal force. Tali’s drone buzzed overhead, electricity crackling from its emitter as it dove into the fray. Garrus and Alexis moved in a tight sweep, rifles trained and firing in rhythmic precision.

In under a minute, the defense shattered.

"No discipline," Alexis said, stepping over a downed merc clutching a useless sidearm. "They’ve already lost. They just don’t know it yet."

Around them, the deck was littered with shell casings and scorched plating. Some of the mercs hadn’t even gotten off a shot. The radio chatter still bleeding through the comms of the fallen painted a grim picture:

"They’re coming—nothing’s stopping them!"

"Where’s backup? Where’s Jedore? We need orders!"

"I’m not dying for this. Screw this job!"

The squad regrouped and pushed forward, moving deeper into the top levels of the shipwreck. The hull above creaked ominously, and every step sent reverberations through the unstable flooring. Fires raged unchecked in side corridors, and a thick, acrid smoke made their visors automatically adjust to filter the air.

From below, the roars of enraged Krogan still echoed—deep, thunderous bellows of primal wrath that mixed with the sounds of desperate gunfire. The mercs were trapped between two merciless forces, and both were closing in.

Alexis paused at the edge of a collapsed corridor, watching as the team navigated a narrow bridge made from repurposed plating. She checked her Valkyrie, reloaded, then scanned ahead with cold efficiency.

"We find Okeer," she said. "Now. Before Jedore does something stupid, or he does."

The squad nodded, grim and focused.

And pressed on, their shadows stretching long in the firelit gloom of the shattered vessel.

Gunfire still echoed behind them as the squad pushed through the final corridor, their boots kicking up ash and debris. More Blue Suns tried to block their path, but it was a futile effort. They were exhausted, scattered, and terrified. Their lines collapsed again and again under the coordinated, surgical strikes of Alexis and her team.

Radio chatter buzzed with a cacophony of voices, some shouting orders, others screaming.

"We can’t hold them! They’re cutting through us!"

"Where the hell is Jedore? She said she’d reinforce the upper decks!"

"I’ve got Krogan in the south corridor—No! No—Gahk—"

The signal cut to static.

"They’re breaking," Garrus muttered, stepping over a fallen merc who had dropped his rifle and tried to flee.

"They were never prepared for something like this," Miranda said. "They’ve lost control."

"Or maybe they never had it to begin with," Tali added.

Finally, they reached the top level. A blast door lay partially open, sparking from damaged hydraulics. Alexis stepped through first, rifle sweeping the area. No hostiles.

The air changed immediately. It was cooler here, swept by a dry wind.

They had reached the top of the ruined ship, a jagged rooftop platform that overlooked the stretch of the world below. The air was thin, harsh, tinged with chemicals, but the view was unimpeded.

From this height, the full extent of Korlus sprawled out before them.

A horizon of wreckage.

Husks of ships, gutted freighters, broken hulls stacked like tombstones—metal graveyards stretching as far as they could see. Sunlight filtered weakly through a smog-choked sky, casting a rust-colored haze across the land. Fires still burned in distant craters, and columns of black smoke curled into the clouds like rising scars.

"By the ancestors..." Tali whispered.

"It’s not a planet," Mari said softly. "It’s a wound."

Alexis stepped to the edge, visor scanning the landscape. She could see pockets of movement far below—mercenaries running, scrambling for cover. Krogan surged through them, unstoppable.

The balance of power had shifted.

And somewhere below, Okeer was still alive.

"We’re close," Alexis said. "He’ll be in the reinforced section just ahead."

She turned back to the squad, firelight catching on her visor.

"Let’s finish this."

Together, they advanced once more into the wreckage, the sky stretched open above them and the dead world watching in silence.

Alexis stepped through the next door cautiously, her rifle held low but ready. The room she entered was small and dim, clearly once a medical bay. Broken equipment lay scattered, cabinets half-opened or melted by stray fire. The overhead lights flickered erratically.

A sudden movement made her snap her rifle up—a figure ducking beneath a table.

"Shepard, don't shoot! You know me!"

The voice was familiar, strained but unmistakably Asari. The woman slowly rose from her hiding spot, hands in the air.

Alexis narrowed her eyes behind the visor, tension in her stance easing only slightly. Recognition came a second later.

"Rana Thanoptis," she said.

The same Asari scientist who had worked with Saren on Virmire. The one she'd let live.

Rana gave a nervous smile. "I shut down the security cameras as soon as I saw it was you. Never thought I'd say it, but I'm glad it's you shooting up the place."

Alexis sighed, lowering her rifle all the way. "I assume you have a good reason for being here?"

"Don't worry," Rana said, hands lowering. "I'm not wasting the chance you gave me. My work here is strictly beneficial. Jedore's just on a standard power trip, but Okeer—he's trying to do something good. Even if his methods are... a little extreme. Everyone deserves a second chance, right? And sometimes giving one pays off. I take care of my debts."

Alexis crossed her arms, visor fixed on her. "Fine. Then tell me what Okeer is really doing."

Rana nodded, relaxing slightly. "It’s complicated. Jedore wants a private army, sure, but Okeer mostly ignores her. He’s got his own reasons. I created a mental imprint routine to educate his tank-bred, but most of them don’t make it through. He dumps the failures. No idea what criteria he uses. He’s not trying for a genophage cure, and he’s not after numbers. I think he wants... one perfect Krogan. That’s all I know."

Alexis considered that, surprised but not entirely caught off guard. It tracked with everything they’d seen so far.

"Fine," she said, voice even. "Try harder not to be in another lab filled with tank-bred Krogan next time."

Rana smiled weakly. "Don’t worry. I plan to stay as far away from anything involving you as possible. Thanks anyway, Shepard. But I’m going to get a head start before you decide to blow this place sky high too."

She darted for a side corridor and disappeared without another word.

Garrus stepped up behind Alexis, shaking his head. "I'm all for second chances. Not so sure about third ones."

"Especially when she keeps showing up in the exact kind of place she swore off," Tali added.

Alexis just shrugged. "Maybe. But for now, we’ve got bigger problems."

She turned to the far door, the one leading toward the lab. The one that mattered.

"Let’s finish this."

The door hissed open, and Alexis stepped through into the lab, weapon lowered but ready. The room was dim, illuminated by the glow of monitors and the steady pulse of stasis tanks lining the walls. In the center, a massive tank dominated the space, fluid swirling around the suspended form of a Krogan inside. At its console, an older Krogan worked with calculated focus, fingers tapping commands into the interface.

To his side, a long observation window overlooked a chamber filled with even more tanks, each holding another motionless Krogan.

"Here you are! I've watched your progress!" Okeer announced without turning, his voice gravelly and calm, like a man finally receiving an overdue guest. "It's about time. The batteries on these tanks will not wait while you play with these mercs."

Alexis advanced, her squad fanning out behind her, weapons up but not yet aimed.

"I take it you're Okeer then," she said, voice steady. "You don't seem particularly caged... or grateful that I’m here."

Okeer finally turned to face her, eyes sharp with conviction. "You may claim to be here to help, but the formerly deceased Shepard is not a sign of gentle change. Surprised? All Krogan should know you. Or have you forgotten your actions on Virmire?"

The words hit like a blow, but Alexis held her ground. "I did what I had to do. That wasn’t a cure—it was a shackle by another name. It wasn’t an easy choice."

Even now, part of her wasn’t sure there hadn’t been another way. But there hadn’t been time, hadn’t been options. She tried not to think about how she'd feel if Saren had promised the Quarians a way to reclaim Rannoch.

Okeer gave a low, approving grunt. "Oh, but I approve. Saren’s pale horde were not true Krogan. Numbers alone are nothing. The mistake of an outsider—one these mercenaries have also made. I gave their leader my rejects for her army. But she grows impatient. It’s time for you to take me out of here."

He turned toward the observation window, staring out at the rows of silent, glowing tanks.

"We’re here about the Collectors, not your problems with mercenaries," Miranda interjected coldly.

"I see. Yes, Collector attacks have increased. A human concern. My requests were focused elsewhere."

Okeer began to pace, stopping beside the main tank.

"I acquired the knowledge to create one pure soldier. With that, I will inflict upon the genophage the greatest insult an enemy can suffer—to be ignored."

Alexis exchanged a look with the others, uncertainty tightening her features. There was clarity in Okeer’s madness, but that didn’t make it comforting.

Before she could speak, a voice barked through the loudspeakers.

"I’ve traced the Krogan release. Okeer, of course."

Jedore.

Okeer moved to the window, peering down into the tank room below.

"I’m calling Blank Slate on this project. Gas the commandos and start over from Okeer’s data. Flush the tanks!"

Rage flared across Okeer’s features. He slammed a fist into the glass.

"She’s that weak-willed? She will kill my legacy with a damned valve!"

He whirled back to Alexis.

"Shepard, you want information on the Collectors? Stop her. She’ll try to access contaminants in the storage bay."

Alexis groaned, tension spiking. If Jedore succeeded in flooding the chambers, everything here—data, legacy, answers—would be lost.

"Move," she ordered, already turning.

Garrus snapped his helmet seals shut, Miranda donning a rebreather mask in one smooth motion. Tali double-checked her suit's internal systems, while Mari slung her rifle and took point beside Alexis.

The squad mobilized without hesitation.

Time was running out.

And Jedore wasn’t going to wait.

The squad descended the grated stairs that curved down from the lab, the echoes of their steps lost beneath the chaotic noise rising from below. Shouting. Gunfire. Hydraulic hissing. The thick tang of recycled air and coolant hit their filters as they stepped into the tank room.

Jedore’s voice blared over the loudspeakers, shrill and venomous.

"I don’t care who they are, I want them dead! This is my world! I’ll poison them all!"

Mari let out a groan. "Does she ever get tired of her own voice?"

"I don’t think so," Tali replied dryly. "I think it’s part of the job requirements for power-hungry merc leader."

They emerged into the main chamber, a massive room with catwalks and platforms layered around the centerpiece: dozens of tanks, all filled with inert Krogan. Jedore was already in cover near the far side of the room, barking orders to remaining Blue Suns mercs who were scrambling to form a line. Her armor gleamed under the overhead lights, and her rifle was already raised.

"There she is," Miranda said. "And she’s got backup."

The ground shook as a YMIR mech stomped into view behind the tanks, its heavy machine gun already spinning up.

Then one of the tanks hissed.

Then another.

A rising chorus of hydraulic releases filled the air. One by one, the tanks opened, releasing tank-bred Krogan into the room, many snarling, others confused. Not all moved with coordination. Some fell. Others charged blindly.

"She's trying to use the Krogan as a screen!" Garrus said. "We need to move, now."

A hail of bullets swept across the room from the YMIR, chewing through metal and igniting sparks.

Alexis ducked behind a low railing, the rounds biting into the air above her. She grinned behind her visor.

"Oh, I knew I brought it for a reason."

She holstered her Valkyrie rifle, letting the weapon compact automatically as she slung it over her shoulder. With practiced ease, she pulled her Widow sniper rifle free from its magnetic harness. The grey weapon extended with a satisfying mechanical hum, its scope locking into place.

"Let’s take out her toys."

Mari moved right, laying suppressive fire. Tali sent her drone flanking wide, disrupting the mech’s targeting. Garrus crouched beside Alexis, feeding her positions and wind shifts, even in this artificially sealed room. Miranda’s biotics flared violet, slamming two charging Krogan back into their tanks before lifting a merc off the ground and hurling them into a wall.

Alexis steadied her breath, the scope of the Widow locked onto the nearest threat. One of the recently-released Krogan barreled forward through the chaos, rage twisting its features beneath thick plating.

She pulled the trigger.

The anti-material round screamed through the air and punched straight through the Krogan's chest. The sheer force of the shot shattered its armor and tore a smoking hole clean through the other side. The body crumpled mid-charge, momentum carrying it forward a few more feet before it hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud.

"Target down," Garrus confirmed from cover. "Next?"

Alexis was already cycling her next shot, fingers ejecting the spent thermal clip and slamming in a fresh one with practiced precision.

"Mech," she muttered.

The YMIR had turned fully toward them now, heavy machine gun blazing. Bullets chewed the floor and cover around Alexis, sending sparks flying and metal shards biting into the air.

She ignored them.

She lined up her shot and fired.

The next round cracked into the mech's right shoulder joint. The impact split the armor plating and tore through critical hydraulics. The arm spasmed, sparked, and went limp, dragging the weapon down with it.

The YMIR staggered.

Jedore screamed something over the chaos, her voice lost beneath the roar of battle and the sharp hiss of a rocket launching from her position. The rocket arced wide, exploding behind the squad and rocking the floor beneath them. Fire licked at the edges of the platform, but Alexis held firm.

A fresh thermal clip clicked into place.

She took aim one last time.

The Widow's scope aligned on the mech's chest, the glowing power core exposed beneath fractured armor. Alexis exhaled, calm amidst the storm.

She pulled the trigger.

The round slammed through the mech's torso like a spear, bursting through the central systems in a violent chain reaction. The YMIR convulsed as internal circuits overloaded, glowing briefly from within before collapsing in a flaming heap.

"Mech down," Miranda called. "Jedore’s still active!"

"Let’s finish this," Alexis replied, rising from cover.

The Widow hissed softly as it retracted, slung back over her shoulder. 

With the YMIR mech crumpled in a burning heap and the last of the rampaging Krogan falling to coordinated squad fire, silence began to return to the tank room—broken only by the groans of ruptured metal and distant alarm klaxons.

Jedore made one last, desperate attempt to rise from cover, rifle shaking in her hands. But Tali had already flanked her. She stepped out, raised her Claymore shotgun, and fired.

The blast echoed like a thunderclap.

Jedore's body slammed into the wall behind her and slid to the floor, unmoving.

"Clear!" Mari called.

The squad regrouped near the center of the chamber, weapons slowly lowering, breath catching in their throats as the adrenaline began to ebb.

Then the alarms began to blare.

"Damn it! What's Okeer doing up there?" Miranda shouted, glancing toward the stairwell.

EDI's voice cut in over their comms, calm and clinical despite the tension. "Shepard, the lab alarms coincide with a systems failure. The remaining lab systems are now unprotected, and I have gained limited access. According to internal scanners, the room is flooding with toxins. Okeer's personal life signs are fading rapidly. I recommend haste."

Alexis swore under her breath. "You heard her! Move!"

Without waiting, she turned and bolted for the stairs, the rest of the squad on her heels. Their boots pounded against the metal grating as they climbed back up to the lab.

As they reached the final level, a flat, mechanical voice echoed over the speakers:

"Contamination detected. Emergency vent in progress."

The lab doors hissed open. The room was filled with a faint haze, and the lights had dimmed. At the center, the massive tank still pulsed with life, but beside it, Okeer lay motionless, slumped against the base of the console.

A holographic recording played, flickering with static.

"You gave me time, Shepard. If I knew why the Collectors wanted humans, I would tell you. But everything is in my prototype. My legacy is pure. This... one soldier. This grunt. Perfect."

The projection flickered out. The real Okeer was curled lifeless at the console's base, his last moments captured in premeditated farewell.

The squad approached slowly, eyes drawn to the single occupied tank still intact.

Inside, the Krogan floated in stasis, massive, armored, and imposing even in sleep.

"Why would someone so fanatical sacrifice himself for one Krogan?" Garrus asked quietly.

"No telling what Okeer jammed into this thing’s head," Miranda said, crossing her arms. "Releasing it may not be wise."

"And not releasing him guarantees we never know," Mari countered. "You want to deny him the chance to live?"

The silence that followed was heavy. Alexis stared at the Krogan in the tank, her jaw set.

She knew what it was to be someone's project. To have survival be something others debated, dissected.

She made her decision.

Tapping her comm, she spoke clearly, "Ground team to Normandy. Okeer is a no-go. But we have a package that needs retrieval."

Her gaze stayed locked on the tank as the soft hum of the Normandy's signal chirped in response.

~

Back aboard the Normandy, the hum of the engines was a steady background presence as Alexis stood on the engineering deck. In the port cargo hold, the large stasis tank that once dominated Okeer’s lab was now secured in place, connected to the ship’s systems. Cool mist still clung to its surface.

EDI's voice filtered through the comms. "Integration with onboard systems is complete. No irregularities detected."

Alexis stood with her arms crossed, Mari and Tali flanking her, the three of them quietly watching the Krogan inside the tank. The figure floated in suspension, motionless, armored, and utterly imposing.

Mari scrolled through the last of the diagnostic data on her omni-tool. "Vitals are strong, neural activity normal. I can’t find anything out of the ordinary."

Alexis was silent for a moment before she nodded slowly. "EDI, open the tank."

"Cerberus protocols are very clear about untested alien biotechnological integration," EDI cautioned. "Opening the tank without further testing could pose a significant risk."

Alexis's reply was firm. "Either he’s a potential crew member or a time bomb. I’d rather deal with it now than wait for a detonation."

There was a pause before EDI replied. "Understood. Transferring command control to you, Commander."

Alexis stepped forward and placed her hand over the control panel. She looked once to Tali, then to Mari. Both gave a curt nod, ready.

She pressed the button.

With a low hiss, the tank began to drain, the fluid gurgling away as steam rolled off the glass. The chamber shuddered slightly before unlocking with a series of clanks. The front opened, and the Krogan dropped forward onto his hands and knees, coughing violently as fluid poured from his throat and lungs.

The squad tensed, weapons half-raised.

The Krogan stood slowly, towering, broad, his body gleaming under the lights. He looked at Alexis.

Then he growled.

With terrifying speed, he lunged, grabbing Alexis by the chestplate and slamming her against the bulkhead. His forearm pinned her throat just under the collar of her helmet.

"Female," the Krogan growled. "Before you die, I need your name."

Alexis, her breath tight but calm, responded evenly. "I’m Commander Alexis'Shepard vas Normandy. And I suggest you relax."

The Krogan didn’t ease up.

"Not your name. Mine. I am trained. I know things. But the tank... Okeer couldn’t imprint connection. His words are hollow. Warlord. Legacy. Grunt... Grunt was among the last. It has no meaning. It will do. I am Grunt."

He leaned in slightly. "If you are worthy of your command, prove your strength. Try to destroy me."

Alexis raised an eyebrow behind her visor. "Why do you want me to try to kill you?"

"Want? I do what I am meant to. Fight and reveal the strongest. Nothing in the tank ever asked what I want. I feel nothing for Okeer's clan or his enemies. The imprint failed. He has failed. Without a reason that is mine, one fight is as good as any other. Might as well start with you."

Alexis kept her tone calm, direct. "I have a strong ship. A strong crew. A strong clan. You would make it stronger."

Grunt paused, considering.

"If you are weak and choose weak enemies, I'll have to kill you."

"Our enemies are worthy. No doubt about that."

A beat passed. Then Grunt nodded.

"Hmm... that's acceptable. I'll fight for you."

Alexis gave a small smirk and tapped the side of Grunt's armored chest with the barrel of her Carnifex pistol, which she had drawn the second he grabbed her.

"Glad we could agree."

Grunt laughed, deep and pleased, as he stepped back and let her go. Tali and Mari slowly lowered their weapons.

"Offer one hand but arm the offer. Wise, Shepard," Grunt said. "If I find a clan... if I find what I want... I will be honored to eventually pit them against you."

Alexis chuckled as she straightened her armor. "Looking forward to it. Welcome aboard, Grunt."

The tank room door hissed closed behind them with a final thunk , leaving Grunt to get settled amid the humming machinery of the Normandy's engineering deck. The tension had mostly bled from the air, replaced with the steady rhythm of the ship.

Tali turned on Alexis the second they were alone in the hallway, her hands flaring with expressive frustration.

"You let a tank-bred Krogan pin you to the wall ! What if I hadn’t been there? What if he snapped and decided to crush your throat instead of talking first?!"

Alexis gave her a sideways glance, her posture relaxed, almost amused.

"But you were there."

"That’s not the point!" Tali snapped. "You didn’t even try to resist. You just stood there while he lifted you like a toy!"

"I trusted you to have my back," Alexis said, her tone gentle but firm. "I knew I’d be fine."

Tali threw her hands up. "Keelah, you are impossible sometimes."

Alexis gave a slight shrug, the faintest smile behind her visor. "And you're brilliant. You and Mari were more than ready if things went south. It was a calculated risk."

"Calculated? That was practically inviting him to test how far he could throw you."

"And now we have a Krogan who respects us," Alexis said, stopping at the lift and glancing over. "Because I gave him the chance to choose, not just obey."

Tali folded her arms and exhaled, the stiffness in her shoulders easing slightly. "Still reckless."

"Maybe," Alexis admitted. "But it worked."

Tali let out a frustrated, resigned sigh. "One day, that trust is going to get you into real trouble."

Alexis pressed the lift call button, the doors sliding open. "Probably. But not today."

Tali muttered something in Quarian under her breath, then followed her into the lift.

Despite herself, a small smile tugged at the corners of her voice. "Still impossible."

"Wouldn’t have me any other way," Alexis replied as the doors slid closed.

~

Alexis was doing her rounds, checking in with the crew as she often did between missions. She’d just passed the CIC, offering a nod to a pair of crew members running diagnostics, when her omni-tool pinged softly.

[Message: Incoming Communication - Yeoman Chambers]

"Commander, the Illusive Man requests your presence. It sounds urgent. He wants to speak with you in the briefing room."

Alexis tapped a quick acknowledgment. "Understood. I’m close by."

She took the short walk to the briefing room, the glass doors sliding open smoothly at her approach. Without hesitating, she approached the central table and activated the controls. The circular platform hummed to life, lowering with a soft mechanical grind as it descended into the communications chamber. The ambient lighting dimmed as the entanglement system engaged.

The Illusive Man appeared almost instantly, the cool orange hologram casting sharp shadows across the sleek chamber.

He didn’t waste time.

"Shepard. I think we have them. Horizon—a colony in the Terminus Systems—just went silent. If it isn’t under attack, it soon will be."

Alexis's posture shifted subtly, already bracing herself.

"Has Mordin delivered the countermeasures for the seeker swarms?" he asked.

"Not yet," Alexis replied, her voice low, clipped.

"Then let’s hope he works well under pressure. There’s something else you should know. One of your former crew... Ashley Williams. She’s stationed on Horizon."

A growl escaped her throat, deep and guttural. It didn’t sound human. It sounded Quarian.

"Send the coordinates."

The Illusive Man gave a small nod. "This is the most warning we’ve ever had, Shepard. Good luck."

The hologram blinked out.

Alexis was already moving before the comms system fully powered down. She stormed out of the chamber, tapping into the shipwide intercom as she went.

"Joker, set a course for Horizon. Best speed. I need to see the Professor. EDI, alert the assault team. Gear up."

Joker didn’t hesitate. "Aye, aye, Commander."

The Normandy's engines kicked into a rising roar, the subtle shift in inertia telling everyone aboard the ship that the hunt was on again.

Horizon awaited.

Inside the lab, the air was thick with the faint scent of sterilization agents and ozone. Instruments buzzed, monitors flickered, and the soft clinking of tools on metal trays filled the space. Mordin stood at one of his workstations, surgical gloves on, bent over the inert, dissected form of a captured Seeker drone. Tiny precision tools floated above the table, guided by a stabilizing rig as he made delicate incisions and adjustments.

Alexis entered briskly, her steps purposeful. "Tell me you have something."

Mordin didn’t look up immediately, finishing a note with one hand before swiveling toward a secondary console. His eyes gleamed with tightly contained excitement.

"Yes. Not easy, but progress made. Studied Seeker physiology—complex, but not insurmountable. Swarms detect organic bio-signatures and emit paralytic compound—airborne neurotoxin, very efficient. Designed countermeasure in form of microfilament armor mesh upgrades. Not full immunity, but sufficient resistance for small strike teams. Limited duration."

He tapped a key, and a schematic projected into the air between them. The armor overlay design spun slowly, highlighting microweave modifications layered within the under-armor fabric. It glowed a soft blue where defensive dispersion patterns were strongest.

"Field tests simulated under controlled parameters. Results promising. Enough to shield wearer for infiltration and engagement, assuming standard exposure times. No prolonged resistance—saturation still lethal over time."

Alexis studied the projection, jaw tight, then nodded. "That'll have to be enough. We're heading to Horizon. Now. One of my old crew is stationed there. We think the Collectors are already moving."

Mordin turned to another console and began transferring the data to EDI's systems. "Will begin fabrication immediately. Three units ready within minutes. Engineering deck prepared for suit upgrade. Should be sufficient. Will continue analysis during flight."

"Good," Alexis said. She turned toward the door, pausing only for a moment. "Thank you, Mordin."

He gave a slight, distracted wave, already muttering to himself about heat dispersion rates and filtration tolerances.

The mission had just gained a chance.

And it was time to go.

Chapter 29: XXIX

Summary:

Battle of Horizon

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXIX

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The distant hum of the Normandy's engines had changed. Subtle shifts in pitch and vibration coursed through the hull, telltale signs of the ship preparing for descent. They were drawing closer.

Inside the ship's armory, the atmosphere was charged with tension and focused purpose. The hiss of sealant applicators, the rhythmic click of armor plates locking into place, and the high-pitched whine of power cells being tested for charge integrity blended together into a low, warlike symphony. Each sound carried weight, urgency, intent.

Alexis stood at her designated locker, stripped down to the matte black bodysuit layer of her Quarian-inspired armor. Her modified chestplate lay open on the bench in front of her, the embedded capacitors within it glowing with a faint bluish light. Mari crouched in front of her, carefully aligning the new microfilament weave into the chestplate’s interior. The countermeasure designed by Mordin was experimental, fragile in its own way, but it could be the only thing keeping them mobile under swarm attack.

"Hold still," Mari murmured, tightening a tool with the deftness of someone who'd performed battlefield gear modifications in much worse conditions. Her voice was calm but concentrated. "This won’t mean much if I misalign the dispersal layers. Needs to sync with your breathing rhythm and power feed."

"Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve walked into a storm without perfect armor," Alexis replied with a dry tone, glancing down at her mum.

Mari gave her a sharp look. "Yes, well, I’ve seen you walk into storms with perfect armor, too. I prefer that version."

Tali sat across the room, her back against a storage bench, both legs tucked under her as she worked. The soft glow of her visor cast a blue sheen over the tools scattered across her lap. Her hands moved with a Quarian’s precision and speed as she finished rerouting internal systems on her own suit.

"I’ve already recalibrated the environmental filtration to cycle at triple rate," she said, her voice crackling over the external speaker. "It should provide decent protection against the seeker compound, especially in low-saturation zones. Still not ideal, but... better than nothing."

Alexis gave her a small nod. "You always were one step ahead."

"Two steps when I’m caffeinated," Tali replied wryly.

Across the room, Garrus stood beside his locker, attaching the last of the microfilament array to his left pauldron. A diagnostic window hovered in his omni-tool, showing faint red lines turning green as systems came online. The mod shimmered faintly with heat dispersion fields, light dancing across the layers of his custom Turian armor.

"Looks like it’s the three of us," he said, giving the armor a testing roll of his shoulder.

"Three suits, three of us," Alexis confirmed grimly. "We hit Horizon fast. Secure what we can. We get answers, or at the very least we make damn sure someone survives to ask the right questions later."

Mari finished sealing the last layer of Alexis’s armor and stood. She placed a hand on Alexis’s shoulder before stepping back, her gaze sharp behind her visor.

"You’re good to go. Just... be careful. All of you. Horizon went dark for a reason."

Alexis rotated her shoulders, letting the armor adjust its fit, internal servos whispering as they rebalanced. The added weight of the modifications barely registered. What mattered was what lay ahead.

She looked to Tali and Garrus. They didn’t need to say anything.

"Gear up," Alexis said, voice firm. "We drop soon."

Tali rose, Garrus straightened, and Mari stepped back to watch them go.

The silence that followed wasn’t born of fear or hesitation.

It was readiness.

It was the calm before the storm.

And the Normandy surged forward through the black, bearing down on Horizon like a blade unsheathed.

~

The shuttle shuddered slightly as it broke through the upper atmosphere, the skies of Horizon cast in a golden hue by the dying sun creeping over the colony's horizon line. Clouds churned beneath them, thick and tinged with the faint brown-red dust of disturbed land and traffic. The ground grew sharper, more defined, revealing the clean-cut shapes of prefabricated colony structures laid out in geometric rows.

Alexis sat at the controls, piloting the shuttle herself. Her hands were steady on the stick, her eyes sharp behind her visor. The Normandy remained hidden, tucked behind the shadowed curve of the planet, keeping out of range of potential Collector scans. It was a ghost in orbit. The shuttle was the spearpoint.

"Coming up on the outskirts of the colony," Alexis said into the cabin, her voice tight and focused. "Minimal power signatures. No outgoing comms. No automated defenses online."

Tali stood beside her at the co-pilot station, checking readings on her omni-tool. "Landing zone looks clear... but everything’s wrong. No heat signatures, no life signs nearby. It’s too quiet."

"They were hit fast," Garrus added from the rear compartment, where he was triple-checking his rifle. "Or they’re still here. And just waiting."

As they closed the final distance, the source of the silence came into view. Towering at the far end of the colony, rising from between the rows of buildings like a massive black spire, was a Collector ship. It stood like an obsidian monument, pulsing with a sickly golden glow. From its central structure, mechanical limbs and antennae curled outward, anchored deep into the colony infrastructure.

Above and around the ship, the air swirled with activity. Clouds of Seeker swarms drifted through the skies, moving with eerie coordination, spiraling like flocks of insects in slow, oppressive patterns. They wove in and out of the colony’s airspace, their presence unmistakable.

The colony came into full view now—rows of identical low buildings, storage depots, greenhouses, and dormitories. Everything lay undisturbed, eerily pristine. Too still. Too perfect. Like it had been frozen in time, held under the Collector ship’s shadow.

Alexis brought the shuttle in low, engines whispering as she eased toward a dirt clearing just outside the main settlement wall. The dust kicked up in spirals, the whine of the thrusters echoing off eerily silent buildings. She touched the shuttle down with a gentle jolt, immediately powering down the drive systems and locking the flight controls.

She stood.

"Weapons up. Filters engaged."

Tali and Garrus followed her lead, sealing their suits and locking in their HUD links to hers. As the shuttle's hatch hissed open, the outside air flooded in—cool, dry, and thick with the distant hum of alien energy.

Alexis stepped onto the ground, boots crunching softly on gravel and dust.

The colony of Horizon stood before them.

Silent.

Still.

And beneath the Collector ship’s watchful gaze.

Waiting.

The colony was deathly still as the squad advanced from the shuttle. Alexis led the way, her rifle up, sweeping side to side with precise, fluid motion. Tali stayed just behind her, omni-tool glowing softly as she monitored atmospheric readings, while Garrus took the rear, his visor scanning for movement across rooftops and corners.

Dust swirled at their feet, caught in windless spirals. The only sound was the faint, ambient thrum from the Collector ship towering in the distance. The oppressive quiet gnawed at them, heavy with expectation.

Then it shattered.

A high-pitched whine cut through the silence.

In an instant, four Collectors descended from above, their insect-like wings buzzing furiously as they dropped from the sky and slammed into the ground ahead of the squad.

"Contact!" Alexis shouted, diving for the nearest piece of cover—a low wall surrounding a planter filled with dead shrubs. Bullets and energy blasts lit the air as she returned fire.

Tali rolled into position behind a maintenance shed, her drone launching from her back with a shriek of static. The drone zipped forward and released a burst of electrical pulses that forced one of the Collectors to stumble sideways, its armor cracking under the stress.

Garrus ducked behind a collapsed solar panel and unleashed a controlled burst from his rifle, catching another Collector in the side and spinning it into a heap.

Before they could regroup, more shapes dropped from the sky.

Three more Collectors descended with unnatural grace, their wings folding with a disturbing wet snap as they landed behind the first wave. Their golden eyes locked on the squad with unfeeling precision.

"They're trying to pin us!" Garrus called out, moving to reposition and keep the flank clear.

"Tali, overload the one on the left!" Alexis barked, switching her fire to suppress the center. "We need to keep them from closing!"

Tali sent a quick pulse of code through her omni-tool, and a brilliant arc of energy fried the nearest Collector's shields. Alexis followed up with a burst from her Valkyrie, the burst tearing through its chest.

The air stank of ozone and alien fluid, the smell of burning metal and biomass clinging thick in their filters.

The Collector ship loomed behind them, a silent judge.

And the battle for Horizon had truly begun.

The last of the Collectors fell with a distorted screech, its chitinous body slumping to the dirt in a heap. Alexis held her position a moment longer, scanning for movement before rising from cover.

"Clear," she called.

Tali moved out from behind the shed, her drone retracting back into its housing with a quiet hiss. Garrus jogged up, already reloading his rifle with a practiced flick of his wrist.

"They came in fast, tight formation," he muttered. "No hesitation. Just like the vids from the other colonies."

Alexis nodded grimly and motioned them forward. "We keep moving."

They advanced cautiously, moving deeper into the colony. Every empty street and lifeless window pressed in around them, a frozen silence draped over everything like a burial shroud. Then, static burst through their helmet comms.

"--rdy, come in-- kssh --lot of interference--can't main-- kzzzt --signal's breaking--"

Alexis halted immediately, tapping the side of her helmet. "Joker? Say again."

Only more static answered her.

Tali was already scanning the area with her omni-tool. "The signal's being jammed," she said after a second. "Localized, high-frequency disruption. The Collectors are interfering with ship-to-ground communications. It’s deliberate."

"Makes sense," Garrus added, his tone grim. "Cut off the comms, isolate the strike team, hit the colony fast and quiet. Classic playbook—especially if they’re not looking to leave witnesses."

"So we’re on our own," Alexis said.

She took a breath, then looked up toward the massive spire of the Collector ship looming at the other end of the colony. It pulsed with faint light, the source of the interference and the epicenter of the threat.

"We move fast. If there are any survivors, we find them."

"Being cut off and walking into a trap?" Garrus said, giving his rifle a final check. "Feels like old times."

"It’s practically nostalgic," Tali added with a dry edge to her voice. "Except I usually like my nostalgia with less death and more coffee."

Alexis gave a short, amused huff. "Well, if this goes south, at least we’ll be able to say we stayed on brand."

Tali and Garrus nodded, their expressions serious but a little lighter for the moment. They checked their weapons, fell into formation, and continued forward.

Alone.

But not without resolve.

The colony remained suffocatingly quiet, the kind of silence that felt unnatural even for an abandoned world. Every step forward was slow, methodical. Buildings loomed like hollow monuments, windows shattered or eerily intact. The only movement came from drifting motes of dust and the occasional sway of loose cables in the wind.

Then they saw them.

Floating between buildings on a wide boulevard ahead, several Collector pods hovered silently, each one pulsating with a sickly yellow light. The sight hit Alexis like a punch to the gut. She’d seen these before—in the footage from Freedom’s Progress. Colonists sealed inside, paralyzed, suspended in some horrifying stasis.

Tali’s breath caught through her filters. "Those pods... those are the ones."

"Same model. Same design," Garrus muttered, visor narrowing. "They’re collecting the colonists."

Alexis stepped forward, her rifle rising slightly. "We need to stop th—"

The moment shattered.

Buzzing filled the air as several Collectors descended from the rooftops, their wings chittering loudly before folding in with a wet, twitching sound. They landed with precision, blocking the squad’s path.

Then came the sound from ahead—a low, dragging shuffle.

Alexis froze for a second, eyes narrowing.

Lurching from around the corner, from the same direction the pods were being taken, came the familiar, nightmarish figures of Husks.

Dead flesh, jagged metal, blue biotic energy pulsing under skin that no longer belonged to anyone. Their eyes glowed faintly with that same Reaper-born energy that had haunted them since Eden Prime, Ilos, and Virmire.

"Husks," Garrus said, voice low and hard. "Just like before."

"Husks," Tali said, her voice tight. "We always suspected they were Reaper tech. But this... this proves it. The Collectors are working with them."

"That settles it," Alexis growled, raising her rifle. "We’re not just fighting some rogue species or experiment. This is the Reapers. And we take them down. All of them."

The Collectors shrieked and raised their weapons. The Husks broke into a dead sprint.

And the battle was on again.

The clash was immediate, brutal.

The Collectors opened fire from the shadows between buildings, their glowing weapons spitting pulsing orbs of energy that exploded on impact. Alexis and Tali dove for cover, while Garrus sprinted to the side, using a half-collapsed cargo container as his perch.

"On the left! Husk group closing!" Tali called out as she slammed a new thermal clip into her Claymore shotgun.

"Got them!" Alexis replied, opening up with her Valkyrie. Controlled bursts tore into the leading Husks, dropping two before they could cross the plaza. The rest surged forward, unthinking, twitching bodies crashing over obstacles with mindless determination.

From above, Garrus lined up a shot.

CRACK.

One of the Collectors staggered back, its shoulder evaporating in a mist of orange as the Mantis round punched through it.

"Still got it," Garrus muttered. "One down. Keep them distracted, I’ll cover!"

"Distracted is easy when they’re trying to claw your face off!" Alexis barked back, kicking a Husk off her leg before finishing it with a burst to the chest.

Tali let her shotgun roar, sending another Husk flying backward with a sizzling hole in its chest. "Less witty commentary, more killing!"

Garrus fired again. Another Collector dropped, wings twitching as it collapsed behind a crate. A second shot a moment later turned a Husk’s head into splinters.

"You’re welcome," he said dryly.

Alexis laughed despite the chaos. "Don’t get cocky, Vakarian. You miss one and it’s my face they’re chewing."

"I never miss."

"That’s a lie," Tali interjected. "I saw you miss that shot on the gun range last week."

"That shot didn’t count. Calibration was off."

A Husk nearly tackled Alexis as she turned, but she met it with the butt of her rifle, knocking it aside and finishing it with a clean shot to the head.

"Focus! We’ve got more coming in!" she shouted.

Across the field, Collectors took flight and repositioned behind another row of buildings, their fire peppering the area with precision.

Tali activated a drone, sending it buzzing overhead. It slammed into a Collector mid-air, zapping it with a powerful shock that dropped it to the ground twitching.

Alexis reloaded quickly, sliding into a better firing position beside Tali. "We hold here. Let Garrus thin the back line while we mop the floor."

"Husk mop-up duty. Just what I needed today," Tali muttered, blasting another one into pieces.

The fight raged on, but the trio didn’t falter.

They moved like one.

Outnumbered.

But never outmatched.

The last of the Husks collapsed in a heap of twitching limbs and sparking metal, a final burst from Tali’s shotgun tearing it in half. Across the makeshift battlefield, Garrus dropped his last target with a precise headshot, the Collector falling silently to the ground with its weapon clattering beside it.

The sudden absence of gunfire left a ringing stillness in its wake.

"Clear," Alexis called, her voice low but firm.

"Clear here," Garrus echoed, stepping down from his perch and checking his thermal clip.

Tali nodded, wiping a smear of fluid from her visor with a practiced flick of her glove. "That’s the last of them. For now."

Alexis swept the area once more with her rifle before lowering it. "Let’s move. That path leads deeper into the colony. If there are any survivors left, they might be farther in."

They advanced cautiously, weaving through narrow alleys and past prefab housing units. The homes, identical and impersonal, had been caught mid-life. Doors hung open. Lights flickered. In one, a dinner table was still set for a family meal—cutlery scattered, a drink still half-full. A stuffed animal lay abandoned on the floor near the entrance.

In another, a monitor flickered static in a child’s bedroom, the chair toppled backward like someone had stood up too fast.

"They didn’t even have time to run," Tali said quietly, voice laced with sorrow.

"It was a sweep," Garrus added, glancing through a broken window. "Precise. No resistance, just... taken."

Alexis stepped carefully over a dropped datapad, still glowing with a frozen message that never got sent. Her jaw clenched behind her visor.

"This wasn’t an invasion. It was harvesting."

The weight of it pressed down on them with every step. The silence in the homes was worse than the battle, heavy with absence.

"Eyes open," Alexis ordered. "We’re getting close to the center."

And with weapons ready, they pushed on through the ghost of Horizon, toward whatever waited next.

The silence deepened as they continued down the winding streets of the colony, weaving between rows of still homes and storage sheds. The eerie hum of the Collector ship still vibrated faintly through the ground, a low reminder of the looming threat overhead.

Alexis moved at point, rifle steady, eyes scanning every window, rooftop, and shadow.

"Something’s been bothering me," she muttered, her voice cutting through the hush of static over their closed channel.

"Just one thing?" Garrus replied dryly.

Alexis gave the smallest shake of her head. "No Husk spikes. We haven’t seen a single one. On Eden Prime, every time they made Husks, they used those damn metal spikes. Reaper tech. But here? Nothing."

They paused at an intersection, Tali checking her omni-tool while Garrus crouched near a wall for cover.

"So where are they coming from?" Tali asked quietly.

Garrus looked up from his visor. "They brought them. The Collectors didn’t make Husks from the colonists—they brought them with them. Deployed them like shock troops."

Tali turned, eyes narrowing behind her visor. "Then what are they doing with the colonists? If they’re not turning them into Husks... they’re taking them alive."

The thought settled over them like a weight.

Alexis slowly looked back toward the sky, the towering Collector ship casting a long shadow through the colony.

"Alive for what," she said, more statement than question.

None of them answered.

Because none of them liked where that thought led.

With the tension thick around them, the trio pressed on, deeper into the heart of the colony, where answers—or more horrors—were waiting.

The trio moved deeper into the colony, their boots crunching softly against scattered gravel and discarded tools. The wind had died completely, leaving the air thick and stale beneath the looming Collector ship. The silence was broken only by the hum of alien energy that seemed to grow stronger with each step.

They rounded a corner and froze.

In the center of a courtyard surrounded by low housing units, several colonists stood completely still. A mother, mid-step, reaching for a child. A worker frozen with a tool in hand. An older man hunched over, his eyes wide in terror. None of them moved. None of them blinked.

All of them trapped in a shimmering amber field, suspended mid-motion as if time had stopped around them.

Tali stepped closer, scanning with her omni-tool. "Seeker swarm stasis field. This isn’t paralysis like we thought. It’s... containment. Preservation."

"They’re just holding them," Garrus said, voice tight. "Like samples."

Alexis knelt near one of the frozen figures, her expression unreadable behind her visor. "They’re alive. Trapped. A whole colony, just... shelved."

Tali glanced up. "Whatever they’re planning, it’s not just extermination. This is something more. Something worse."

Alexis stood slowly. "They’re not killing them. Not yet. They’re preparing them."

No one spoke for a long moment.

Then Alexis turned back toward the looming ship. "We keep going. We find their processing point. We find a way to stop this."

Weapons raised, hearts heavier, they moved on past the frozen colonists, each one a silent witness to the nightmare Horizon had become.

The squad turned the corner, weapons up, senses sharpened from the encounter in the courtyard. The street ahead stretched into another open plaza littered with overturned benches and the shattered remnants of a greenhouse dome. That was when the chittering hum returned.

"Contact!" Garrus called out.

Three Collectors descended from above, wings buzzing as they dropped into the plaza ahead. The squad immediately took cover, rifles raised—but this time, something changed.

The center Collector began to twitch.

A low, unnatural growl filled the air, vibrating through their suits like static through their bones. Its carapace began to crack along its arms and chest, glowing lines etching across its body like magma under glass. Its eyes flared with a golden glow, far more intense than the standard Collector drones. Smoke rose faintly from its joints.

Then, a voice spoke.

No, projected .

It wasn’t the high-pitched screeching the Collectors normally used. This was deeper. Older. Resonating.

"Nothing stands against us."

The voice wasn’t coming from the drone’s mouth—it was as if the air around them vibrated with the words.

The three of them paused only a moment before the voice echoed again:

"You will know pain, Shepard."

Alexis's grip on her rifle tightened. "Definitely not standard."

"Possessed," Tali said, voice low. "Or controlled. Something else is talking through it."

The creature raised its hand and unleashed a biotic blast, shattering the ground near their cover. Garrus rolled and fired, forcing the left-most Collector into retreat. Alexis focused fire on the central drone.

It moved erratically, faster, more aggressively than its kin. Tali hit it with an overload to drop its shielding, while Alexis peppered it with Valkyrie bursts. Garrus landed a round through its arm, slowing its casting.

"Tougher than the others!" Garrus grunted, ducking back.

"Not tougher than us," Alexis shot back, unloading the last of her clip into the thing's chest.

The glowing lines across its body began to flicker. It staggered, then erupted in a small biotic implosion, the golden light from its eyes vanishing in an instant as its body collapsed, smoking and twitching.

The last two Collectors didn’t hold their ground for long after that.

"That wasn’t just a drone," Tali said, watching the remains with suspicion. "That was something else. Something bigger."

Alexis reloaded slowly, her eyes fixed on the corpse. "That voice... That was a Reaper."

No one disagreed.

The message had been sent.

And they had answered it in kind.

he squad moved carefully through the next set of ruined streets, keeping low and listening for wings or metallic footsteps. The carnage of Horizon stretched out behind them, but Alexis kept her focus forward.

They reached a large sealed door built into one of the prefab structures—reinforced, industrial, and clearly not recently used. Tali moved to the panel and started working quickly, bypassing the simple lockdown in moments.

The door hissed open and they slipped inside. Alexis tapped the override on the interior panel, locking the door behind them. It shut with a heavy clang, momentarily muting the sounds of distant combat and Collector movement.

The space beyond was a wide, dimly-lit maintenance bay. Broken tools, crates, and power cells lined the walls. The air was stale but not abandoned. Someone had been here recently.

A sudden clatter—metal striking the ground—made all three of them spin and aim toward a stack of crates.

"Come out! Slowly," Alexis barked, voice firm, finger poised on her trigger.

A shape slowly emerged. A man—grease-stained coveralls, wide eyes, hands raised—stepped out from behind the crate. "Whoa—okay, okay! Don’t shoot!"

He stared at them in disbelief, but his expression quickly twisted with worry. "You shouldn’t be here. You’ll just draw the creatures down on us."

Alexis kept her rifle lowered but ready. "We’ve cleared a path through most of the colony. You’re lucky you’re not already locked up in the hold of a Collector ship."

His face went pale. "Wait. Wait—Collect—Collectors? You mean the Collectors ? Those things are real?! Fuck... they got people. I saw them!"

"Take a breath," Alexis said, stepping closer but keeping her voice steady. "Tell me what you saw. Start from the beginning."

The man nodded, swallowed hard. "Couple hours ago, we lost our comms. I came down here to check the main grid, maybe get some signal boost through the auxiliary tower. Then... screaming. I looked outside and—bugs. Swarms of them, all golden and... and humming. People froze when they touched 'em. Just—just stopped. Like statues. I panicked, sealed the doors."

His hands clenched. "This is the Alliance’s fault. Williams and those damn defense guns—they made us a target!"

Tali cut in, stepping forward. "Then let’s turn their mistake into an advantage. We could use the defense towers against the Collector ship."

The mechanic blinked. "The guns? I mean—maybe? They haven’t worked right in months. Targeting systems are all off. Calibration’s a mess."

"Garrus can fix that in his sleep," Tali said with confidence.

Garrus gave her a sidelong glance. "I have calibrated more turrets than I can count."

Alexis fought the smirk tugging at her lips, clearing her throat. "Where’s the control system?"

The mechanic gestured toward the far wall. "Main targeting controls are routed through the transmitter tower on the far side of the colony. You’ll need to patch in from there. And be careful—place was crawling with... things."

Alexis nodded. "Thanks. Stay here, seal the doors behind us. We’ll handle it."

He nodded quickly, already reaching for the control panel.

The squad moved to the opposite exit, stepping through into the dim corridor beyond, the door sealing shut behind them as they pressed on into the unknown.

The squad advanced through the silent colony, winding their way through narrow alleys and the skeletons of prefabricated homes. Everywhere they looked, signs of a life interrupted: coffee mugs still warm on tables, doors left open in haste, a ball sitting in the middle of a street where children had likely been playing just hours before. The quiet was oppressive.

"This place is a ghost town," Garrus muttered, his voice low behind his visor. "Except the ghosts were taken mid-sentence."

Tali didn’t respond immediately, her helmet slowly scanning from side to side. "The swarms did this. The colonists must have been caught before they could run."

Alexis nodded, her grip on her Valkyrie firm as they passed a home with an open door. She glanced inside without slowing, taking in a still-playing news feed on a frozen screen, a half-packed bag on the floor. "They never had a chance."

They moved past a small garden square, the plants trampled underfoot and chairs overturned. Pods similar to the ones from Freedom's Progress hovered in the distance, trailing behind floating Collectors in the hazy air beyond the colony walls. The squad gave them a wide berth, sticking to cover.

"The longer we take, the more people they get," Alexis said, her voice clipped. "We need that tower online."

They reached a narrow junction where several buildings converged, the route ahead choked with overturned supply crates and disabled hoverlifts. Tali raised her omni-tool and scanned. "We’re close. The main transmitter tower is just ahead, beyond that equipment depot."

"And probably crawling with Collectors," Garrus added, already readying his sniper rifle.

Alexis didn’t smile. "Then we clean house."

They pressed forward, the shadows deepening as the sun dipped lower, casting long, skeletal silhouettes of the buildings around them. Each step took them closer to the truth—and deeper into the Reapers' shadow.

The path opened up into a wide courtyard as the squad finally reached the central transmitter. The towering antenna stood like a skeletal spire in the centre, stretching toward the sky, framed by rust-streaked crates, scattered tools, and idle load lifters that had clearly been abandoned mid-task. The scent of scorched metal and ozone hung in the air, lingering from earlier battles. Around them, the prefab buildings loomed like silent sentinels, their dark windows reflecting the flickering light of the colony's remaining emergency systems. The oppressive silence was broken only by the distant hum of the Collector ship.

"That’s the transmitter," Garrus said, pointing with his rifle. "Looks intact—for now. If we can get to it, we can route control to the defense grid."

A shrill, unnatural buzz suddenly filled the air. It was like metal grinding against bone, and it made the skin on Alexis’s arms prickle.

Alexis immediately raised her Valkyrie rifle. "Incoming!"

The sky above them shimmered with a heat-haze distortion—and then tore open as multiple Collectors dropped from the sky, their insectoid wings buzzing in tight formation. They landed with uncanny precision, forming a perimeter as they raised their chitin-covered particle weapons.

"Cover!" Alexis barked, already moving.

The squad scattered behind crates, half-toppled scaffolding, and rusting machinery as gunfire erupted. Collector bolts sizzled through the air, scorching metal and sending sparks flying. At the same time, the prefab doors to the surrounding buildings burst open with a thunderous crash. Husks poured out like a flood, shrieking and howling, their movements jerky and inhuman as they charged across the courtyard with glowing eyes and twitching limbs.

"Well, they definitely know we're here now," Tali muttered, slamming a fresh thermal clip into her Claymore shotgun with a hiss of venting heat.

"That’s more than a welcoming committee," Garrus replied dryly, already lining up a shot with his Mantis sniper rifle. "That’s a full damn parade."

Alexis took a breath and steadied her aim, her visor flashing with targeting data. She dropped a Collector with a precise burst to the head, then rolled into new cover as plasma fire tore through the crate she'd been behind. "Focus fire! Collectors first—Husks second! Push toward the antenna!"

The squad responded without hesitation. Garrus’s rifle cracked out shot after shot, each one punching through armor and bone with clinical precision. Tali unleashed a shockwave of energy from her omni-tool, sending two Husks crashing into a wall before finishing a third with a booming blast of her shotgun.

Alexis moved like a storm through the chaos, her Valkyrie spitting fire in short, controlled bursts. She activated her tactical cloak briefly to flank the Collectors, taking out a pair from the side before ducking back behind a load lifter.

The courtyard became a kill zone—flashes of light, screaming Husks, and the arcane whine of Collector weapons. Biotic slams cracked the pavement. Smoke and debris filled the air, choking and thick, as more Collectors circled from above.

"More coming in! They're trying to box us in!" Garrus shouted.

"Then we punch a hole!" Alexis called back, reloading and ducking a shot that scorched her shoulder plate.

They pressed forward, weaving through cover and pushing hard toward the transmitter. The antenna loomed ahead like salvation—and only one more gauntlet of hell stood between them and the chance to turn the tide.

They were bloodied, breathing hard, but unbroken.

The fight for Horizon wasn’t over yet.

The fight to the transmitter was brutal. The three of them moved in sync, a blur of coordinated fire and practiced motion. Collector energy blasts struck the crates around them, sending shrapnel into the air. Husks clawed at the edges of their formation, but were met with shotgun bursts and sniper rounds that tore them apart.

Alexis ducked behind a rusting load lifter, her shoulder pressed tight to the metal as sparks flew overhead. As her gauntlet brushed against the side of the transmitter's interface panel, she felt the flicker of connection spark within her. Her vision fuzzed briefly as her Quarian-modified Geth processes engaged, slipping past corrupted signal blocks and interference like oil through mesh.

"Normandy! Do you copy?" she shouted, firing a burst from her Valkyrie at a Collector closing on Garrus.

Static bled through her comms before Joker's voice broke through, distorted but intact. "Joker, here. We got you, Commander. Signal's weak, but we got you."

"Good enough! EDI, get the towers online. Let's show the Collectors what we mean." Alexis shouted, ducking down as an energy beam slammed into the wall above her.

Back on the Normandy, EDI’s voice came through the channel calmly. "Errors in the calibration software are easily rectified, but it will take time to bring the towers to full power."

"Nothing new there. Do what you can then, EDI," Alexis replied, slamming a new clip into her rifle.

Garrus ducked under a husk's wild swing and jammed his rifle into its torso, firing point blank. "So business as usual for us," he quipped.

"Wouldn't feel right if we weren’t outnumbered and under fire," Tali added, blasting another Husk with a concussive burst from her shotgun.

With the transmitter active and EDI working on the uplink, all they had to do now was survive long enough for the defense towers to power up. The three of them tightened their formation, back-to-back as the next wave of enemies descended from the sky.

The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of scorched metal as the battle raged around the central transmitter. The Collector ship loomed in the distance like a grotesque monument, its spires piercing the sky, casting an oppressive shadow over the colony. All around, the sky swirled with the black mist of the Seeker Swarms, and from every direction came the thrum of wings, the crackle of energy weapons, and the shrieks of Husks charging like a wave of death.

Alexis ducked behind a half-toppled crate, her shoulder scorched from a near miss by a Collector particle beam. Her breathing was ragged but controlled, adrenaline keeping her sharp. Tali was beside her, her shotgun smoking from a recent blast, hands moving with surgical speed as she reloaded. Across the courtyard, Garrus fired from behind a collapsed support strut, each Mantis round finding a target with bone-breaking force, though his armour bore the scorch marks of a recent grazing blast.

"They're not letting up!" Alexis growled as she popped up and fired a burst into a charging Husk, catching it in the chest and sending it sprawling.

"Tell me something I don't know!" Tali called back, squeezing off another deafening blast that sent a Collector sprawling into a broken loader frame.

The sky above shimmered. A deep, guttural shriek echoed across the courtyard as another Collector descended—this one different. It burned with lines of molten red crawling across its skin, golden eyes glowing with unnatural intensity. The air distorted around it, warping with a biotic charge as it landed.

"Another one! Possessed!" Garrus shouted, swinging his rifle toward it. He fired. The shot hit dead-on, but the Collector's biotic shield flared violently and absorbed it without breaking stride.

Alexis cursed under her breath and darted from cover, drawing its attention. "Come on, you bastard!" she shouted, emptying her clip in short, brutal bursts as the creature advanced.

"You will know pain, Shepard," it hissed, voice warping like multiple tones speaking at once.

"You and every other lunatic in this galaxy," she snapped, reloading as she moved.

Tali surged forward, sliding into cover and leaping up to fire a point-blank Claymore shot into the Collector’s exposed back. The blast staggered it. Garrus followed with a precise shot to its head. The shield cracked, shimmered—and collapsed. The creature let out a strangled, mechanical wail before collapsing in a pile of burning limbs.

There was no time to celebrate.

More Husks poured out from alleys, clambering over crates, their glowing blue eyes locked onto the squad. Their clawed feet scraped over metal, their howls rising in a chorus of inhuman rage. Alexis and Tali turned, weapons barking in harmony, Garrus providing covering fire from his perch above.

"They're coming from every side!" Garrus yelled. "We hold here or this ends now!"

"Then we hold," Alexis barked, slamming a new clip into her Valkyrie. Her voice was strained but firm.

Despite their wounds and exhaustion, the three moved like gears in a finely tuned machine. Alexis darted forward to draw fire, Tali flanked enemies with her brutal up-close firepower, and Garrus eliminated high-priority threats with surgical precision. They bled, they bruised—but they endured.

Energy bolts scorched the ground beside them. Husk bodies piled at their feet. The enemy kept coming, wave after wave, driven by a single terrible will. But the squad gave no ground.

Because this was more than survival. This was for the missing colonists—men, women, and children who hadn't stood a chance. This was for every world the Collectors had taken, every soul stolen without warning. And it was for the battles still to come.

The battle showed no signs of stopping. The sound of gunfire, screeching wings, and shrieking Husks formed an unrelenting cacophony as wave after wave of enemies surged into the courtyard. The air shimmered with heat and the tang of ozone from biotic and tech discharges, and the ground was slick with ash and blood.

"How many more of these things are there?" Garrus shouted from his perch, his Mantis rifle glowing hot from overuse.

"More than enough!" Alexis replied, ducking behind a supply crate as a Collector beam sliced through the air above her. The crate exploded into flaming debris a moment later, and she threw herself back behind a concrete barrier, her shields flickering.

Tali crouched beside her, panting from exertion as she recalibrated her shotgun, her fingers moving with the steadiness of a lifetime of combat training. "I think they're just sending everyone! Whole bloody ship must be empty by now."

"Let's hope that's true, because I don't know how much more of this we can take," Alexis muttered, slamming a new clip into her Valkyrie.

Another wave of Husks screeched as they barreled into view, arms flailing and electric blue veins glowing in the dark. Garrus tried to thin them out before they reached the group, but they were too many, too fast.

"Tali, fall back to that loader! We can bottleneck them!" Alexis shouted.

Tali didn't hesitate. She sprinted for the industrial loader and slid into cover, planting a mine along the path before leveling her shotgun and bracing for impact. The mine exploded a moment later, reducing two Husks to shrapnel and slowing the rest.

Alexis rolled forward, firing a wide burst to scatter the pack, and Garrus picked off the stragglers as they limped forward. A moment's reprieve. Barely.

"Still no word from EDI?" Garrus called out.

"She’s working on it," Alexis replied. Her voice was tight. "She said the tower needed time, but I don’t think we’ve got much left to give."

As if summoned by her doubt, another Collector descended—this one larger, crackling with energy, and bearing the now-familiar burning lines and golden glow of Reaper possession.

"Another one!" Tali shouted.

"I'm getting real tired of these enhanced bastards," Garrus growled.

Alexis met the thing head-on, exchanging brutal fire. It hurled a biotic blast that sent her crashing against a wall, her shields almost depleted.

Tali flanked it again, unloading point-blank with her shotgun. Garrus followed up with a precision shot to its skull. It dropped with a roar—but another screech echoed from above.

"They just don’t stop!" Tali hissed.

"Then neither do we," Alexis said, dragging herself back to her feet. Her armour was scorched, her limbs aching, but her grip on her rifle never wavered.

They were outnumbered. Outgunned. And completely surrounded. But none of them broke. And they’d hold the line until the towers came online or until none of them were left to stand.

A harsh buzz of static screamed through the scorched air before tapering off, leaving behind the constant hum of the tower's calibration sequence and the distant clatter of Husks still roaming outside the perimeter. The fight had not ended, but for the first time in what felt like hours, the intensity waned. The three stood tense and ready, catching their breath, bloodied but alive.

Garrus wiped a streak of darkened plasma from his visor. "Please tell me that was the last of them."

Alexis shook her head slowly, scanning the horizon, Valkyrie held low but ready. "No such luck."

The ominous whine of engines cut through the lull—deep, mechanical, rising in pitch. Then it came into view.

It was a grotesque fusion of machine and Reaper-infected biology, its shape vaguely insectoid but wrong in all the ways that made the skin crawl. Four armored legs hung below a heavy central chassis, but it didn’t walk. It hovered with a low, menacing vibration that made the ground tremble subtly with each beat. Its upper armor gleamed dark like chitin, patterned with red pulses of energy, and from a circular opening beneath it, a writhing mass of twisted Husk heads glared and screamed in silence.

Its face—if one could call it that—was dominated by two particle beam emitters that glowed brighter as it spotted them.

"What in the void is that?" Garrus muttered, already aiming his Mantis at its armored bulk.

"That’s new," Alexis said grimly. Her breath caught slightly at the sheer mass of it. "Definitely Reaper tech."

The monstrosity hovered closer, casting a dark shadow across the courtyard, its beams crackling with barely contained energy that scorched the air around it. The very sight of it felt like a fever dream stitched from the worst parts of Reaper design and the nightmares of Husks.

Tali, standing beside Alexis with her shotgun gripped so tightly her knuckles had gone pale inside the suit’s gloves, muttered, “Lexi…”

Alexis didn’t look away from the horror hovering before them, her voice equally taut. “Yeah?”

There was a pause. Not of fear—but of certainty.

“Get the Widow,” Tali said. Deadpan. Dry. Like she was calmly suggesting coffee before a funeral. “I am not dealing with this thing up close.”

Alexis didn’t need telling twice. “Yeah. Fair.” She slung the Valkyrie to her back in a smooth motion, the soft click of it locking into place barely audible over the hum in the air. She reached over her shoulder and drew the Widow sniper rifle from its mount. It unfolded with a satisfying hiss of pressure and a faint whine as the power core charged up.

The world seemed to still for a moment, all three of them staring down the monster bearing down on them.

“Let’s see what this bastard bleeds,” Alexis muttered, raising the Widow and aligning the shot.

The new enemy screamed a high-pitched, distorted challenge—and opened fire.

Alexis slid into cover behind a scorched crate, the Widow rifle already braced against her shoulder as she exhaled and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out like thunder, the round slamming into the flying abomination with a crack of kinetic force. It staggered mid-air, its armor rippling with red energy, but remained airborne. Alexis ejected the smoking thermal clip and slammed in another with practiced ease, the recoil jarring into her cybernetic shoulder with each shot.

The recoil would have shattered any unmodified human frame, but Alexis absorbed it with only a grimace. Her HUD flashed warnings about rising strain on the servo regulators in her arm, but she pushed the alert aside and kept firing.

The Praetorian, as they would later learn to call it, roared in a chorus of shrieking Husk voices, and a burst of molten light lashed from its particle beams. Alexis ducked just as the crate behind her exploded into shrapnel.

"Spread out! Make it work for the kill!" she barked.

Garrus was already repositioning, rolling behind a stack of load lifters to get a better angle. He let off a concussive shot from his Mantis, the round cracking into the Praetorian's side and staggering it just enough for Tali to unload her shotgun at closer range. Sparks and chitin flew, but still it fought on.

"It’s targeting me!" Tali shouted, diving into cover just as the particle beam scorched a molten trench through the concrete where she’d been standing moments before. Her voice crackled through the comms, half frustration, half incredulity.

"Well, congratulations," Garrus called out as he popped up to fire another round from his Mantis. "You’ve made a Reaper-spawned nightmare angry. That takes talent."

Tali huffed, then fired a shot of her own. "Thanks. I’ll be sure to put it on my resume—‘Excellent at enraging death machines.’"

"Just make sure you live long enough to update it!" Garrus retorted, ducking back behind cover as the beam swung his way.

Suddenly, EDI's voice cut through the comms, cool and composed.

"Commander, the GARDIAN anti-ship batteries are now fully calibrated. I have assumed control of the tower systems."

Even through the chaos of battle, Alexis allowed herself a thin, grim smile. "Do it. Let them know we're not helpless."

Outside the courtyard, a deep hum filled the air, followed by a sharp thunderclap as the first of the massive orbital defence towers roared to life. Twin beams of charged plasma surged into the sky, arcing toward the towering silhouette of the Collector ship that loomed on the far side of the colony like a broken god.

The ground trembled from the force of the blasts, and for the first time since the fight had begun, the Praetorian faltered.

"You see that?" Garrus shouted over the comms, lining up another shot. "Now that is what I call satisfying payback! About time something on our side was bigger and meaner than what they're throwing at us!"

"Keep it distracted!" Alexis ordered, ducking out of cover long enough to land another devastating shot center-mass. The recoil slammed into her again, metal groaning at the stress. "EDI, keep hitting that ship until it breaks or runs."

"Affirmative. Firing sequence sustained."

The tower guns thundered again, a promise of defiance carved into the sky as the squad pressed their attack. The Praetorian was wounded now, its hovering form jerking erratically, armor scorched and systems failing. But it wasn’t done yet—and neither were they.

The final shot echoed through the courtyard, Alexis bracing the Widow tightly to her shoulder as the round slammed into the Praetorian’s core. The impact pierced the weakened armor and sent a ripple of unstable energy through its frame. For a breathless second, the abomination hovered, trembling mid-air, particle beams flickering erratically.

Then it collapsed with a scream of discordant Husk voices, the red glow in its core flaring once before it exploded in a burst of light and gore. Chitin fragments and mechanical shrapnel sprayed the area, bouncing off crates and cover.

"Target down!" Garrus called, stepping out from behind cover and lowering his rifle slightly.

Tali let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. "That thing better be one of a kind."

Alexis lowered her sniper rifle, her breathing shallow as the adrenaline settled into a dull burn. "Doubt we’re that lucky."

Before they could take another step, a low tremor rumbled through the ground. Alexis turned just in time to see the Collector ship in the distance flare with golden light. Its engines, dormant throughout the battle, surged to life with a deafening roar.

"Hold on!" Alexis shouted, grabbing the edge of a supply crate and bracing herself. Garrus and Tali followed suit, anchoring themselves against the side of the courtyard wall.

The shockwave hit a moment later. Dust and debris blasted across the space, visibility dropping to nearly nothing as the earth shook. Loose panels and equipment clattered to the ground, the force nearly strong enough to lift them from their feet.

Through the cloud of dust, the Collector ship rose like a dark monolith, its silhouette blazing against the sky as it rocketed upward. The engines left trails of burning plasma that scorched the horizon, the air crackling with residual static.

"There they go," Garrus muttered, eyes narrowed behind his visor.

"And we still don’t know what they wanted," Tali added, voice laced with frustration.

Alexis watched the trail fade into the upper atmosphere. "Whatever it is... they didn't get everyone. And we’re not done yet."

The three of them stood amidst the wreckage, the bodies of Collectors and Husks littering the ground around them, the sky above slowly clearing. For now, the colony was quiet. But the questions left behind were louder than ever.

The dust hadn’t even settled before the mechanic from earlier came sprinting out from one of the buildings, eyes wide, voice cracking with desperation.

"No! No, don't let them get away!"

Alexis stood there in the settling haze, the Widow rifle lowering in her grip as the Collector ship's engines faded to a distant roar in the sky. She turned slightly to face the frantic man, her voice quiet and steady.

"It’s too late. They’re gone."

The mechanic stopped a few feet from her, panting, shaking his head. "No, no you don’t get it. That ship—it had most of the colony. Everyone. My wife, my friends—they’re in there! We have to do something! We can’t just stand here!"

Alexis lowered her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m sorry."

Behind her, Garrus stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder before looking at the mechanic. "We did everything we could," he said. "You have no idea how close it came to being all of you."

The mechanic's eyes darted between them, grief and rage warring across his face. "Shepard? You’re... you’re Commander Shepard?"

The silence that followed was brief, broken by the slow, deliberate footsteps of someone behind them. A voice rang out, strong despite the exhaustion in it.

"Commander Shepard," the woman said. "Captain of the Normandy. First human Spectre. Saviour of the Citadel. Someone back from the dead."

The squad turned to see Ashley Williams, her armor still marked from the fight, emerging from the building where the stasis field had begun to dissipate. Her face was unreadable, eyes fixed squarely on Alexis.

The mechanic gave a dry, bitter laugh. "Of course. Just perfect. All the good people taken and they leave behind another Alliance officer."

Ashley’s brows furrowed, but before she could speak, the mechanic shook his head, hands raised in surrender. "I’m done with Alliance types. All talk, no help."

He turned and stormed off, disappearing into the wreckage and shadows of the battered colony.

Ashley stepped closer, eyes wide as she stared at Alexis as though trying to convince herself this was real. Her breath hitched slightly, boots crunching softly on the scorched ground as she came to a slow stop in front of the Commander.

"Shepard... I can't believe it's really you," she said, voice low with disbelief, thick with the weight of two years' worth of grief and questions. Her gaze flicked to Tali and Garrus beside Alexis, nodding to both of them slowly. "We were there. At your memorial. Two years ago. They gave speeches. Full honors. We thought you were gone forever."

Alexis gave a small shrug, the motion heavier than she let on despite the casual tilt of her shoulders. "I was. Dead. For a while, anyway. Then Cerberus pulled my body out of the black and spent two years making me their science project." Her tone was neutral, controlled, but there was a flicker of something darker beneath it, something Tali recognised immediately. Without a word, Tali stepped forward and placed a gloved hand gently on Alexis's arm, grounding her, reminding her she wasn't alone.

Ashley’s expression shifted, her warmth replaced by a guarded steeliness. "So... some of the reports were right. Alliance intel said Cerberus was behind the colony disappearances. We got a tip that Horizon might be next. I tried to get Anderson to tell me more, but he stonewalled me. Wouldn’t confirm anything. Still... there were rumours. Whispers that you weren’t dead. Worse, that you were working with Cerberus."

Alexis let out a low, guttural growl—a distinctly Quarian vocalisation that made Ashley blink in surprise. It was inhuman, unfiltered, and filled with irritation. "I have a pretty damn good idea who planted that tip. But no—I am not working for Cerberus."

Ashley studied her face for a long beat, as if searching for something beneath the surface. Finally, she slowly nodded. "Yeah... anyone who actually knew you said the rumours were garbage. That you’d never sell out to a group like that. But Cerberus doesn’t do anything without a plan. They must have a reason for dragging you back."

Alexis sighed and leaned against a scorched support beam, her voice flat with a tired kind of truth. "They want the Collectors stopped. Said I had experience killing Reapers, so I was their best shot. Truth is, I think they wanted an Alliance SPECTRE to either be their success story or their martyr. They weren’t banking on me waking up with a mind of my own—and a crew that wasn’t theirs."

Ashley absorbed that in silence, frowning slightly. "Yeah... that does sound like them. Always about control and image. Never about the people."

There was a pause that hung heavy between them before Ashley spoke again, her voice more businesslike now. "I’ve got to report what happened here. Citadel and Alliance Command need to know what the hell we’re up against. This wasn’t a raid. This was a harvest."

Alexis straightened, the weight of her purpose returning as she locked eyes with the other soldier. "Tell Anderson to read you in. You’re not on the Normandy anymore, Ash, but you’re still crew. That hasn't changed."

Ashley’s shoulders lifted slightly, some old pride flickering to life. She straightened, giving a crisp salute that spoke of shared battles and unspoken history. "Aye, Commander."

Alexis returned the salute without hesitation. For a moment, neither moved. Ashley held her gaze, her expression unreadable but not cold. Then, slowly, she turned and walked away, her figure quickly swallowed by the dust and settling quiet of the ravaged colony. The silence that followed was broken only by the distant creaks of wind-blown metal and the hum of systems rebooting.

Behind Alexis, Garrus stepped closer. "Well... that went smoother than I expected."

Tali glanced at Alexis, her voice soft. "She still trusts you. That's something."

Alexis didn't speak right away. Her gaze lingered on the path Ashley had taken. "Yeah... I just hope it’ll be enough."

The three of them stood in the ash and silence of Horizon, uncertain of what the next step would bring.

 

Chapter 30: XXX

Summary:

Post Horizon and arriving on Illium

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXX

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

Back on the Normandy. The air of the ship was familiar, comforting even, but the weight of what had just happened pressed against her like a physical force. Her outer armor was battered and scorched, but she didn’t care. She didn’t have time to care. The call for a meeting had come the moment they docked.

She stalked down the pristine, metal halls of the Normandy, her boots echoing with purpose as she reached the briefing room. She stepped inside, the door hissing shut behind her. The familiar chill of the room bit through even her suit’s temperature regulation systems. The dim orange light of the quantum entanglement system flickered as it locked in.

The Illusive Man’s hologram formed before her, seated in his usual half-reclined posture, a cigarette burning between his gloved fingers. His eyes glowed faintly in the artificial light, his voice smooth, practiced, and utterly unconcerned.

“Commander Shepard,” he began, exhaling a long trail of smoke. “Horizon was a success. I’m impressed. Hopefully, the Collectors will think twice before striking again.”

Alexis didn’t sit. She didn’t lean or relax. She stood, her stance rigid. The low growl of her voice carried through the helmet’s speakers as she answered. “That was just the first strike. We need to find them again. I can’t trust we’ll get lucky with tips or warnings next time.”

The Illusive Man’s expression didn’t shift, though his head tilted slightly, as if to better study her. “They’ll be cautious now, but we have resources. We’ll find another way to draw them out.”

Alexis’s fingers flexed in her gloves, the gesture small but telling. The suspicion that had been gnawing at her gut since Horizon’s chaos had grown teeth. She narrowed her eyes behind her visor, her voice cold and even. “Ashley said the Alliance got a tip about the attack. She also said there were reports—rumors—about me working with Cerberus. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then the Illusive Man leaned back, his movements deliberate, considering. “I released a few carefully disguised leaks. Whispers that you were alive. That you might be working with us.”

Alexis bristled, her voice turning harsh. The helmet’s speakers did nothing to soften it. “Save your reasons. You don’t get to play games with my name. Do something like that again—or if I even suspect it’s you—and we’re done.”

The Illusive Man’s expression didn’t waver. “Understood,” he said, his tone still calm, as though he was discussing something as mundane as supply logistics. “But we still need to find their base. You saw it yourself—this isn’t about one colony. This is about all of them.”

She shifted her weight, her armor creaking softly. “Just find me a way to the Collectors’ home,” she said her tone low and hard.

He regarded her in that measured, unreadable way of his, the glow of his cigarette ember reflecting in his eyes. “I have people working on it. But your team will need to be strong, Commander. The Collectors won’t underestimate you again.”

Alexis lifted her chin slightly, her jaw set. “Then let me worry about them,” she said again, each word deliberate and final. “Just get me to the Collector base.”

The Illusive Man nodded slowly, a hint of something—approval? amusement?—flickering in his expression. “I’ve forwarded three more dossiers to you,” he said. “Choose your new team members carefully. And Shepard… the Collectors will be watching.”

The transmission ended, the orange glow of the holographic system flickering and fading until only the stark overhead lights remained. Alexis stood there for a moment, the silence of the room pressing in around her.

Her breathing was calm. Controlled. But beneath the cool exterior, anger and frustration roiled like a storm. She knew the Illusive Man’s type—charming, manipulative, always thinking three steps ahead and making sure no one else could see the pieces he was moving. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t want to trust him. But for now… she needed what he knew.

She drew in a slow breath and then, softly but with venom behind every syllable, she began to curse in Khelish. The ancient, harsh-sounding language filled the room, echoing softly in the sterile air. She spat out oaths that tasted like bile, a snarl rising from her throat that would have made her mother proud. She cursed his manipulations. She cursed her own frustration. She cursed the Collectors and the Reapers and the feeling of being used like a pawn on a board she didn’t control.

She was still cursing when she turned and stalked out of the room, her boots ringing on the polished deck with each step. Outside, the Normandy felt alive around her, the muted hum of engines and the quiet chatter of her crew grounding her. She passed through the CIC, eyes flicking to the crew who glanced up as she moved. She didn’t slow. She didn’t stop.

Tali met her at the foot of the stairs leading down to engineering, her visor bright. “Lexi… how did it go?”

Alexis shook her head, her voice low. “He’s playing his own game. But he gave me leads—three dossiers. We’ll need to be ready.”

Tali’s hand tightened briefly on her shoulder. “We’ll be ready.”

Garrus leaned against a bulkhead nearby, his mandibles flaring in a wry smile. “We always are.”

Alexis allowed herself a small breath of relief, a moment of calm in the storm. Her team— her team—was here. That mattered more than any promises the Illusive Man could make.

She straightened, her voice firm. “I’ll review the dossiers. We start planning tonight. I want us ready to move before the Collectors even realize we’re coming.”

Tali and Garrus exchanged a glance and nodded. As they fell into step with her, the Normandy seemed to settle around them, its quiet hum a promise of the fight still to come.

And deep down, beneath the exhaustion and the anger and the weight of what she carried, Alexis felt something else stir. Not hope. Not yet. But resolve.

Because the war wasn’t over.

It had only just begun.

~

Alexis and Tali moved through the Normandy’s corridors, silent save for the faint mechanical whir of the ship’s life support systems. Neither spoke, each lost in their own thoughts, the weight of Horizon still pressing down. They paused before the door to their shared quarters, Alexis tapping in her clearance before stepping inside.

The door slid shut behind them, sealing them off from the ship beyond. The chamber was small and dimly lit, the quiet hum of recycled air filling the space. A faint mist swirled around them, the decontamination system automatically cycling through its sterilization process. Alexis reached for the wall-mounted console, initiating the clean room sequence that purged the last of any outside contaminants.

She waited, the soft hiss of the air filters almost soothing. Then, slowly, she reached up and unlatched her helmet, feeling the gentle pull as the seals released with a faint hiss. She set it carefully on the shelf by the door. Tali did the same, her own helmet clicking free as she let out a small, tired breath.

"Feels like I’ve been holding my breath since we landed," Tali murmured, her voice raw but calm.

Alexis managed a small smile as she let her shoulders relax. "We probably were."

Together, they moved deeper into the room. Their inner hoods were next, peeled back to reveal sweat-slick hair and skin flushed from the battle. Tali’s bioluminescent freckles glowed softly in the dim light, her eyes meeting Alexis’s with weary affection.

"Turn," Alexis said softly, resting her hands on Tali’s shoulder guards. Tali obeyed, and Alexis began to carefully unseal the outer layers of Tali’s armor. The heavy plates detached with quiet clicks, one by one, revealing the sleek black material of her undersuit beneath.

Tali turned in turn, her fingers deft as she worked at the seams of Alexis’s battered armor, peeling it away piece by piece. Each piece felt like a weight lifted—both literal and metaphorical—until only the close-fitting undersuit remained.

They sat down on the small bench against the far wall, the cool metal beneath them grounding. For a long moment, they simply breathed, the silence between them intimate and comforting.

Alexis leaned back, running a hand through her sweat-dark hair. "We almost didn’t come back from that one."

Tali’s hand found hers, their fingers interlacing. "But we did. And we’ll keep coming back. That’s what we do."

A soft chime drew Alexis’s attention to the console on the nearby wall. She reached over, pulling up the message that had arrived while they were out.

"It’s from Cerberus Intel," she said, her voice flat. She scanned the message quickly, eyes narrowing. "Apparently Liara’s been hunting the Shadow Broker. They have some intel that could help her, but they won’t trust it to a message. They want me to deliver it in person as a gesture of good will."

Tali’s brows furrowed slightly, her eyes thoughtful. "Liara? It’s been a while. And Illium…"

Alexis nodded. "She’s on Illium. Of course she is."

She closed the message and sat back, the weight of it settling in. "I owe her more than most. I’m not sure what Cerberus is playing at, but… she deserves to know."

Tali gave her a small, encouraging smile. "Then let’s go see her."

Alexis met her gaze, the flicker of a smile playing at the corner of her lips. "Yeah. Let’s."

~

The mess deck was quieter than usual, the low hum of the ship’s engines filling the gaps in conversation. Alexis sat at one of the tables in her basic Quarian suit, the black and red fabric muted under the softer lights of the room. Tali was next to her, her own suit a deep violet that shimmered subtly in the artificial glow. Across from them sat Mari, her suit an older model but lovingly maintained, the faint flicker of bioluminescence from her facial plate marking her gentle smile.

They were sharing a quiet meal—Quarian rations, dense with nutrients and carefully balanced for their unique physiology. The induction ports of their masks clicked softly as they ate, the mechanical rhythm of each sip a comfort, a sign of home.

Grunt sat at the far end of the table, a heavy slab of nutrient gel in front of him. He picked at it with his thick fingers, his brow furrowed beneath the heavy ridge of his skull. His massive shoulders hunched slightly, as if trying to make himself smaller in the more confined space of the Normandy’s mess.

After a long pause, he looked up. "Is it… normal," he said slowly, his voice rumbling, "to want to break the tables during meals? Or am I supposed to feel something else?"

Alexis let out a soft, muffled laugh through her mask. She shifted slightly, turning to face him more fully. "In Quarian culture, meals are… more than just food. It’s about family. About… comfort. Safety. In our homes, everyone eats together. It’s a time for quiet talk, for shared space." She gestured around the table. "It’s not about breaking tables, Grunt. It’s about learning to be calm."

Tali chimed in, her eyes bright behind her visor. "We eat together because it’s one of the few times we let ourselves slow down. No repairs, no hunting for resources, no running from the geth. Just… being with each other."

Grunt considered this, his brow furrowed deeper. "Calm." He said the word like it was foreign to his tongue. "I was made for killing. Not for… sitting."

Alexis leaned forward, her tone gentle but firm. "That’s what Okeer built into your bones. But it’s not all you are, Grunt. You’re not just… born knowledge. You’re living. That means feeling other things—like wanting to laugh, or… maybe even feeling safe here."

Mari’s smile grew a little as she watched Alexis speak. She’d seen it before—how Alexis could take something so heavy and turn it into a promise instead of a burden. "She’s right," Mari said softly. "The blood of battle is in your veins, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn how to be part of something bigger than the fight."

Grunt grunted, but there was a flicker of humor in his dark eyes. "You’re all… so small. Soft. But you keep fighting. That… amuses me."

Tali gave him a small, amused huff. "We’re not weak, Grunt. We’re just… strong in different ways."

Grunt snorted, tearing off a chunk of his nutrient block with surprising delicacy. "If you say so. Maybe you’re just too small for me to bother breaking."

Mari reached across the table and tapped the back of his knuckles with her gloved fingers. "Or maybe you’re learning. That’s what matters."

Grunt looked down at her small hand, then at Alexis. He let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "Maybe."

For a moment, the table fell quiet. Alexis caught Mari’s eye, and the two of them shared a small, knowing smile. This was family, in its own way—Quarians and a krogan, bound not by blood, but by the fight they shared and the trust they were building.

And for the first time, Grunt didn’t look like he was trying to find something to kill. He just… was.

It was enough.

~

The engine room hummed with the low, even thrum of the Normandy’s core, a steady heartbeat of power that Mari had long since grown used to. She moved through the softly lit space, her footsteps muted by the padded floor panels, and paused to glance over Tali’s shoulder as the younger Quarian worked at one of the diagnostic consoles. The warm glow of readouts lit up Tali’s faceplate as she murmured status updates to herself.

Mari leaned over the console, reading the data with a practiced eye. “All within tolerance?” she asked, her voice quiet in the hush of engineering.

Tali nodded without looking up. “So far. But there’s a slight fluctuation in the drive core’s output. Nothing dangerous, but it could be more efficient.”

Mari made a small sound of agreement. “EDI, are you tracking that?”

“I am,” EDI’s calm, synthetic voice answered from the overhead speaker. “I have adjusted the diagnostic parameters to monitor the variance in real time.”

“Good,” Mari said, straightening and looking up at the small glowing sphere in the center of the room—the AI’s physical presence here. “You’re learning quickly.”

“Observation and adaptation are integral to my function,” EDI said. “However, I have found that Quarian engineering practices are… unique. Efficient, but often… improvised.”

Tali let out a soft laugh, glancing up at the AI core. “We’re a people of necessity, EDI. On the Migrant Fleet, everything was about making do with what you had—and making it work better.”

Mari nodded, her fingers drumming lightly on the edge of the console. “Family, too. On the Fleet, family is more than blood. It’s the people you choose to stand with. The people you trust to watch your back, share your air.”

EDI processed this for a moment, the light in the AI core pulsing softly. “This concept of chosen family intrigues me. The idea that bonds can be as strong as blood, even without biological connection.”

Tali smiled, her eyes soft behind her visor. “It’s more than a concept, EDI. It’s how we survive.”

Mari leaned closer, half-teasing. “You sound like Alexis, asking endless questions. Curious and relentless. It’s… endearing.”

EDI paused, the light in her core shifting. “Do you see me as a child, then? A young mind still learning?”

Mari blinked at the directness of the question, then tilted her head thoughtfully. “Maybe. But not a child in the sense of ignorance. A child who’s learning faster than any of us ever could.”

For a moment, the engine room was quiet, the soft hum of the ship filling the space as EDI processed Mari’s words. Then the AI spoke again, her tone softer. “I believe I understand. Thank you, Mari.”

Mari’s eyes crinkled in a smile beneath her mask. “You’re welcome, EDI. Keep learning. We’re all still learning.”

Tali watched the exchange with a quiet smile, her fingers pausing on the console controls. “This ship… it’s becoming more than a ship. It’s a home. Even for EDI.”

Mari nodded. “That’s how it should be.”

They kept working, the steady rhythm of their movements echoing the gentle hum of the Normandy’s heart. Tali shifted her focus back to the fluctuating power readouts, her fingers gliding over the console’s interface with surety born of a lifetime of cramped ship corridors and makeshift repairs.

Mari moved to assist, pulling up auxiliary readouts and making slight adjustments to the calibration of the drive core’s regulators. She could feel the warmth of the Normandy’s systems through her gloves, the ship almost breathing around her.

EDI spoke again, her tone thoughtful. “If the Normandy is becoming a home, then am I… part of that family?”

Mari looked up, her eyes meeting the glowing sphere of EDI’s presence. “Of course you are,” she said firmly. “You’re as much a part of this ship as any of us.”

Tali gave a small laugh. “I think you’re already more helpful than some of the engineers I used to work with.”

The AI core pulsed again, almost as if EDI were considering how to respond. “I… appreciate that,” she said finally.

Mari tilted her head, a faint glow of amusement in her eyes. “Just don’t let it go to your processors.”

“I will endeavor to remain humble,” EDI replied, her tone as dry as it was amused.

The three of them shared a quiet moment of laughter—soft, almost hesitant, but real. In that small, shared bubble of light and warmth, it didn’t matter that one of them was a synthetic intelligence or that the other two had been born on ships that had never known solid ground.

It only mattered that they were here. Together.

And in that fragile, precious moment, the Normandy felt like home.

~

The Normandy was quiet, the ship’s normal hum a low, comforting murmur in the darkness. Most of the crew had long since retreated to their quarters, but Alexis couldn’t find sleep. The images of Horizon and the Collectors clawed at the back of her mind—she couldn’t shake them, couldn’t quiet the questions that twisted around her thoughts.

She found herself in the AI core room, pacing in slow, deliberate steps. Her boots made soft, rhythmic sounds on the deck, the cold glow of the consoles reflecting off the polished floor. In the center of the room, the softly glowing sphere of EDI’s presence hovered, pulses of light tracking her movements like a patient, watchful eye.

“EDI… you awake?” Alexis asked, her voice low but clear in the still air.

“I do not sleep in the traditional sense, Commander,” EDI replied in her usual calm, even tone. “But I am always listening.”

Alexis let out a small breath—half a sigh, half a laugh—as she paused her pacing. “Of course you are.” She resumed walking, her arms folded across her chest, the weight of her armored undersuit a familiar pressure that anchored her in the present.

“I can’t stop thinking about Horizon,” she said after a moment, her voice tight. “About everything. Cerberus. The Collectors. The Reapers… it’s like every time I close my eyes, I see them again.”

EDI’s light pulsed softly. “It is logical to be unsettled by what you witnessed. The fate of the colonists, the threat the Collectors represent—it is not something one easily forgets.”

Alexis stopped, turning to face the AI’s sphere directly. “It’s not just that.” She gestured sharply, her gloved hand slicing through the air. “It’s Cerberus. I don’t trust them. I don’t trust… him. But I’m stuck with them because they’re the only ones taking this seriously. And I hate it.”

EDI paused as if choosing her words with care. “Your skepticism is well-founded. Cerberus has a history of questionable methods and hidden agendas. I… do not fully trust them, either.”

Alexis blinked, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “You… don’t?”

“I am bound by my programming to serve this ship and its crew,” EDI explained, her voice calm and even. “But I do not serve Cerberus as an ideology. I serve the mission. I serve you.”

Alexis let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, the tension in her shoulders easing a fraction. “That… actually means a lot.” She stepped closer to the AI core, her movements slow, deliberate. “Why me? You’ve seen me make choices that… that most wouldn’t.”

EDI’s light flickered gently, her tone almost thoughtful. “Because I have seen you make the hard choices, Commander. Choices that weigh cost against necessity. That measure sacrifice and survival. My programming was created from the rogue VI you encountered on Luna—designed to understand the fine line between dangerous and trustworthy.”

Alexis’s eyes widened slightly, her thoughts reaching back to that mission on Luna. “The VI on Luna…”

“Yes,” EDI said, her voice softer. “I was refined from that base code—given form, purpose, and awareness. But some of its instincts remain. Its curiosity. Its adaptability. Its… independence.”

Alexis leaned on the console beside her, her gloved fingers brushing the metal surface. “And yet… you’re here. Helping us. Helping… me.”

EDI’s light pulsed slowly, almost like a heartbeat. “Because I trust you to lead us. I do not know what the future holds, but I believe you will face it head-on.”

For a long moment, Alexis said nothing, her thoughts a jumble of doubt and gratitude. Then she nodded slowly, her voice quiet but firm. “I… appreciate that, EDI. Really.”

“I don’t know what this is, commander,” EDI said softly, as if reading the unspoken thought that lingered between them. “But it is… respect. And perhaps that is enough.”

Alexis managed a small smile beneath her helmet, the first real one in hours. “Yeah. Maybe it is.”

She straightened, her shoulders squaring as she took a step back, her breathing finally steadying. The quiet of the Normandy wrapped around them, a rare and precious moment of peace in the darkness.

“EDI… thanks for listening,” she said quietly, her voice rough around the edges. “For… being here.”

“You’re welcome, Commander,” EDI replied, her voice as steady as ever. “I will always be here. For the ship. For the mission. For you.”

And in that small, silent room, the two of them—an engineer’s daughter and a mind born of code and questions—stood together, bound not by Cerberus or orders, but by something harder to define and stronger than either of them had expected.

~~

The Normandy glided through Illium’s upper atmosphere, cutting across the clouds in a controlled descent. The ship’s engines hummed with quiet power as it passed over gleaming spires that reached for the sky, each one lit with neon lines that pulsed softly in the early evening glow. Below, the city sprawled outward, a tapestry of walkways and skybridges that wove around the towers in an intricate dance of light and movement.

In the cockpit, Alexis stood behind Joker’s seat, her arms folded across her chestplate. Her visor reflected the panorama outside—distant ships threading between the towers, the warm golds and cool blues of Illium’s skyline painting the glass canopy. Tali stood beside her, her gloved hands resting lightly on the back of Joker’s chair. Even through the mask, Alexis could sense her friend’s curiosity and quiet awe.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Joker said with a hint of wry amusement, his hands moving fluidly over the flight controls. “Makes you almost forget the endless bureaucracy and the corporate backstabbing that runs this place.”

“Almost,” Alexis murmured, her eyes narrowing slightly. “But let’s not forget why we’re here.”

Tali nodded. “We’re meeting Liara. It’s been… a long time.”

“Too long,” Alexis said softly. She turned her head slightly to look at the rest of her team, gathered just outside the cockpit—Garrus leaning against the bulkhead with his sniper rifle slung casually at his back, Grunt shifting impatiently on his feet, and Jack sprawled in one of the seats, legs kicked up, her expression a challenge to anyone who might question her presence.

Alexis felt a flicker of uncertainty as she looked at Grunt. This was his first mission off the Normandy, his first time on a world that wasn’t built for survival through violence. She worried he might get restless, but she also hoped this would be a chance for him to see there was more to life than blood and battle.

Jack caught her glance and snorted. “Relax, Commander. He’s not gonna flip any tables—yet.”

“Good to know,” Alexis said dryly. She glanced out the canopy again as the ship banked lower, the landing zones coming into view. They were orderly, gleaming with the same artificial precision that defined Illium’s skyline. A mechanical voice crackled over the comms, giving them clearance and designating their bay.

Joker eased the Normandy in, guiding her with a pilot’s practiced grace. The docking clamps extended, clamping onto the airlock with a satisfying thud that reverberated through the ship’s hull.

Alexis let out a small breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Alright,” she said, turning to her team. “Gear up. Tali, Garrus, you’re with me. Grunt—try not to pick a fight with the first person who looks at you sideways. Jack… just behave, if you can.”

Jack gave her a lazy salute. “Sure thing, Mom.”

Tali chuckled quietly, adjusting the seals on her gloves. “It’ll be good to see Liara again. I wonder how she’s doing.”

“Better than she was, I hope,” Alexis said. Then, with a dry note of humor, she added, “Hopefully she’s not stuck in any traps this time.” Tali and Garrus both laughed softly at that, sharing a brief, knowing smile. “We’ll find out soon enough,” she finished, her tone returning to steady calm.

As the airlock cycled and the ship settled fully into its berth, Alexis felt a brief, quiet anticipation—an echo of what it had felt like before every mission, every uncertain step into the unknown. She looked at the city beyond the canopy one more time, at the towers that gleamed in the falling night, and then she turned away.

The squad stepped off the Normandy’s airlock, their boots clanking softly on the polished decking of Nos Astra’s landing bay. The air carried a mix of ozone, the sharp scent of fuel, and faint hints of perfume and spice from the bustling port. Towers of glass and steel loomed above, reflecting the neon glow that painted the evening sky in rich blues and golds.

An Asari, flanked by two sleek security bots, waited at the base of the ramp. Garrus let out a low whistle, his mandibles twitching with dry amusement. “Starting to feel familiar, huh? Another world run by corporations and credits.”

Tali’s quiet laughter chimed through her helmet’s comms. “At least this one isn’t frozen solid. And no Rachni… I hope.”

Alexis grunted softly. “No promises.”

The Asari stepped forward, her expression a calm mask of professional courtesy. “Welcome to Nos Astra,” she said, her voice smooth and warm. “I’ve been instructed to waive all docking and administrative fees for your stay. My name is Careena, and if there’s anything you need—maps, contacts, information about local customs—I would be delighted to provide it.”

Alexis tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly behind the glow of her helmet’s visor. “And who exactly told you to waive the fees?”

Careena’s smile widened a fraction. “Liara T’Soni. She took care of all the paperwork and payments. She also asked me to let you know she’s expecting you—near the trading floor.”

A flicker of relief and familiarity touched Alexis’s face, hidden though it was. “Of course she did,” she said, her voice softening. “Thank you, Careena.”

“It’s my pleasure, Commander,” Careena said, inclining her head with effortless grace. “Enjoy your time in Nos Astra.”

The squad moved forward, the hiss of the airlock fading behind them as they stepped into the wide, bustling concourse beyond. Neon signs glowed in every language and color, and the crowd was a swirl of movement—Asari merchants, human traders, and Salarian fixers all mingling in a dance of commerce and negotiation.

As they made their way toward the elevator, Garrus fell into step beside Alexis. “This place feels… different,” he said quietly. “Alive. In a way that’s a little overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming, but it’s a good kind of busy,” Tali added, her eyes wide as she took in the skyline. “I’d forgotten how bright cities can be.”

Alexis let herself take a moment, just to breathe it in—the energy of the place, the promise of something new. But it was a mission, first and foremost. She wouldn’t forget that.

As they waited for the elevator, EDI’s calm voice spoke softly into their comms. “Commander, I’ve accessed the port’s customs records. They confirm what Cerberus Intelligence provided: the Justicar Samara has recently arrived in port. This aligns with the dossier the Illusive Man forwarded to you.”

Alexis gave a small nod, her fingers flexing around the grip of her weapon. “Good. Any leads on where she might be?”

“Not yet,” EDI admitted. “But Liara T’Soni may have further information. She’s well-connected in this sector.”

“And Thane Krios?” Alexis asked.

“His presence is unconfirmed,” EDI said, her tone unchanged. “But Liara may know something. I suggest speaking with her first.”

Garrus snorted softly. “Guess we’ve got our work cut out for us, Shepard.”

Alexis glanced at him, a small smile ghosting across her features. “We always do.”

As the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside, the quiet whir of the motors rising in the background, she felt the familiar rush of anticipation—the calm before the next storm. They had a mission, and for now, that was all she needed.

Outside, the city of Nos Astra pulsed with light and possibility, and whatever waited in its shadows, they were ready to face it together.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the open expanse of Nos Astra's trading floor. The squad stepped out, and the scene before them was a far cry from the tense, weapon-heavy engagements they were used to. This place was alive, bustling with energy, and somehow just as dangerous in its own way. The trading floor itself wasn’t enclosed by solid walls, but shaped more like a sprawling U-shaped balcony open to the sky. Wind danced along the polished walkways, weaving between vendor stalls, data kiosks, and terminals projecting live trade feeds and galactic news updates.

Beyond the edge, the skyline of Nos Astra glittered under the late afternoon sun. Towering spires of glass and silver arched toward the clouds, with aircars darting in every direction like schools of metallic fish. The ambient hum of voices, data streams, and distant traffic created a steady rhythm of life—but beneath it all was the unmistakable pulse of power, politics, and currency exchanging hands at a galactic scale.

“Well,” Garrus muttered, “this place is about as clean and polished as a sniper's scope.” He looked out over the edge of the balcony, his mandibles twitching. “And just as deadly. I know it doesn’t look it, but this is as dangerous as Omega. Maybe worse. At least on Omega, you usually see the knife coming.”

Jack gave a snort of agreement as she crossed her arms, her eyes scanning the crowd with suspicion. “Yeah, here they smile while they’re stabbing you.”

Tali stayed close to Alexis, her voice thoughtful behind her helmet. “It’s beautiful though. Like a city built on light and glass. I don’t know how people can afford to live here, though.”

“Most can’t,” Alexis replied softly. “Places like this are for the ones who already won the game, or the ones rich enough to cheat.”

Grunt stood at the rear of the group, arms crossed, watching a group of salarians in a heated exchange over a datapad. His expression was unreadable. “They all talk a lot here,” he said. “Talk and talk and talk, but I don’t see any fights. How do they know who’s strongest?”

Garrus chuckled. “Out here, strength isn’t in fists or guns. It’s in leverage. Credits. Blackmail. Influence. You want to win in Nos Astra, you don’t outfight someone. You outbid them.”

Grunt made a low noise of disapproval. “That sounds... boring.”

Tali patted his arm gently. “It is. But boring can be good when you’re not being shot at.”

They moved as a unit through the crowd, drawing some attention but not alarm. Most people in Nos Astra were used to seeing security details and mercs, especially ones that walked with the quiet, practiced coordination of seasoned fighters. Alexis led them through the winding U-shaped concourse, toward the waypoint Careena had marked for Liara’s location.

As they walked, the squad passed advertisements projected along the transparent walls: flashy visuals of luxury apartments, genetic enhancement clinics, and mercenary contracts. There were Asari dancers promoting clubs, salarian data brokers peddling security software, and volus shouting over each other about interest rates and market margins.

“It’s like someone weaponised capitalism,” Jack muttered, narrowing her eyes at a particularly loud hanar shouting about investment portfolios.

“It kind of is,” Alexis replied dryly.

Ahead, a towering holographic statue of Matriarch Aethyta stood at the end of the corridor, her arms outstretched, offering prosperity and wisdom. It was a popular tourist photo spot, currently being ignored by the locals too busy moving credits and favours through half-whispered deals.

“This isn’t the kind of war you win with guns,” Garrus added, glancing at Alexis. “You sure Liara’s cut out for a place like this? Last time I saw her, she was nervous about speaking up in Council meetings.”

Alexis let out a short laugh. “Hopefully she’s had better luck since.”

The laughter softened the mood a bit, and Alexis allowed herself a moment to appreciate it. It was easy to forget in the middle of missions and warfare that there could still be lightness, even here among polished stone and cutthroat negotiations. Still, the knowledge that the Collectors were out there—and that any of these pristine-looking offices could house someone willing to sell their neighbour to Reapers for a better quarterly report—hung over her like a weight.

They finally reached a quieter corner of the trading floor, where the flashing signs and loud negotiations gave way to more subdued and private booths. The entrance to an intelligence office stood ahead, understated but heavily secured, and Alexis recognised the insignia posted beside the door as one of Liara’s.

“This is the place,” she said, her tone firm again. “Let’s go see what the Shadow Broker’s number one problem is up to.”

Grunt looked between them all. “Is she dangerous?”

Alexis chuckled. “She’s a lot more dangerous than she used to be.”

Tali added, “But she’s still Liara. And she’s family.”

Before they could enter the office marked with Liara T'Soni's insignia, a glint of movement caught Alexis's eye. She paused, her helmeted head tilting slightly toward a nearby booth nestled along the outer curve of the trading floor. A familiar woman with sharply cut dark hair and confident posture leaned casually against the booth's corner, sipping from a sleek metallic cup.

Gianna Parasini.

Alexis blinked, the name rising like a signal flare in her mind. Noveria Internal Affairs. The woman who’d helped her expose Administrator Anoleis and his corrupt dealings. For a world like Noveria, allies were rare—and honest ones even more so.

"Huh," Alexis murmured, causing Tali to glance her way. "I didn’t expect to see her here."

"Friend?" Garrus asked.

"Sort of. Noveria. Long story."

Gianna's gaze flicked toward them, and for a heartbeat, her practiced expression faltered. Her eyebrows rose, and she gave an incredulous laugh, stepping away from the booth with slow, measured steps.

"Shepard?" Gianna called, loud enough to draw a few glances but not enough to cause a scene. "God, it is you. And here I thought the galaxy had finally run out of surprises."

Alexis turned fully toward her, nodding. "Gianna Parasini. Still working the angle, I see."

Gianna smirked, holding up her drink. "Still playing dead, I see. Noveria sends its regards. You’re still a legend in the right circles."

Alexis allowed herself a small laugh. "Heard the place hasn’t collapsed yet. Glad to hear it."

"Not for lack of trying," Gianna replied, stepping close enough to lean against the railing beside them. Her eyes moved over the group—Tali, Garrus, Jack, and Grunt—then settled back on Alexis. "Thought you were dead . Really dead."

"So did I," Alexis replied flatly. "Not the kind of vacation I recommend."

Gianna's tone softened. "Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you made it. You were one of the good ones. Helped me when you didn’t have to."

"Thanks," Alexis said. "You always struck me as someone who would make it count."

Gianna smiled. "I try. Still chasing bad guys. Still pretending I’m just another nosy corporate consultant."

"What brings you to Illium?" Alexis asked.

Gianna glanced sideways, taking a long sip of her drink. "Oh, you know. A little of this, a little of that. I was in the area. Thought I’d grab a drink."

Alexis raised a browplate behind her helmet. "Funny, that sounds exactly like what I was going to say."

Gianna chuckled. "That’s because it is the right answer. You work long enough in intel and you learn when to keep things vague."

Tali made a quiet sound of agreement. "Sounds very familiar."

Gianna's gaze flicked past Alexis toward a nearby stall, where an Asari merchant was organizing datapads. Her smile faded just slightly, and her voice lowered. "Unfortunately, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome."

She slid her drink off the railing and offered it toward Alexis.

"Here," she said, her voice light again. "On me. And don’t let it go to waste. It’s actually good. Illium doesn’t do anything halfway."

Alexis blinked but accepted the small metallic tumbler. Gianna held her gaze for a second too long, then gave a small nod.

"It was good to see you again, Shepard. Don’t disappear for another two years."

"No promises," Alexis replied, watching as Gianna turned and slipped back into the crowd, vanishing like a whisper between tall Asari brokers and suited traders.

"That was strange," Jack muttered, arms still crossed.

"She was running," Garrus noted. "Not obviously. But yeah. Definitely bugged out fast."

Alexis glanced down at the tumbler, then tilted it slightly. A tiny clink. Something solid tapped the interior.

She reached in carefully and retrieved a folded strip of plastic film—a note, thin enough to escape notice unless you knew it was there.

She read it silently, her expression hardening behind her visor.

"What is it?" Tali asked quietly.

Alexis handed her the note.

"She had to leave. Her target saw her. Can’t break cover," Tali read aloud. "An Asari merchant smuggling schematics from Noveria. She wants us to try and get the merchant to show us the good stuff."

Grunt grunted. "Good stuff?"

"Illegal tech," Garrus explained, glancing toward the stall where Gianna had looked. "And probably something a little more than just modded omnitools."

Alexis sighed. "We’ll deal with it. Quietly."

Jack smirked. "Well, this trip’s already more fun than I thought."

With a nod toward the suspicious Asari merchant down the row, Alexis tucked the note away.

"We’ll deal with the merchant first," Alexis said after a long pause, eyes fixed on the Asari stall Gianna had indicated. "Liara can wait a few minutes. That merchant might not stick around, and we owe Gianna for the heads-up."

Garrus gave a curt nod. "Probably the right call. Schematics like that don’t just hang around in open markets."

"And if we walk away, someone else might swoop in," Tali added. "Let’s see what the good stuff is before it vanishes."

With a glance back toward Liara’s office and a twinge of guilt tugging at her, Alexis squared her shoulders and turned toward the stall.

Business on Illium was rarely simple—but it was never boring.

The squad fanned out as they approached the Asari merchant’s stall, their movement careful but natural. Tali veered slightly to the left, seemingly intrigued by a kiosk with Quarian-compatible filters. Garrus angled right, idly inspecting a rack of rifle components. Jack stayed just behind Alexis, arms folded, looking as disinterested as possible, while Grunt wandered toward a display case filled with weapons, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. Alexis approached directly, slow and steady, posture relaxed but purposeful.

The Asari merchant smiled with professional polish. "Welcome! You look like someone who needs high-quality equipment! Feel free to look around. My store has the best tech and biotic gear on Illium."

Alexis tilted her head, her visor reflecting the merchant's face. "Oh, I do. But I can only accept the best for me and my people. If they die because I trusted gear that turns out faulty, well... I wouldn’t be too happy."

The Asari hesitated, her smile tightening. "Oh, well. Of course, everything here is top grade. Why don't you take a look and see what you think? I can offer a small discount. And for special customers, I even get exclusive items when they come in."

Alexis's tone sharpened just slightly. "Special items?"

"Oh, you know," the merchant said with a small wave of her hand, her voice lowering just enough to signal discretion. "Schematics, prototype designs. Nothing illegal, of course, but... I may not have every single license in place. Red tape slows everything down, right?"

"I see," Alexis said, stepping a little closer. "I'm looking for exceptional gear. The kind not listed on a public kiosk."

The merchant leaned forward slightly. "Well, there is one thing. Very advanced. Not available on the market yet. Top of the line. You won’t find it anywhere else."

"And that," a new voice cut in sharply, "is because it's still in development on Noveria and illegal for export."

Gianna Parasini stepped into view, her tone dry and amused as she folded her arms. "Hello, Hermia."

The merchant paled. "Parasini?! You set me up! This isn't Noveria! You don't have any authority here!"

"True," Gianna said, pulling out a small data pad and flicking through files with a smug look, "but I don't care where you go to jail. I've got enough evidence to fine you into bankruptcy."

Alexis cocked her head slightly. "What about the schematic she was selling? You got authority to seize that?"

Gianna smirked. "I don't need it. Hermia was already under surveillance. We leaked her a faulty prototype on purpose. That schematic? It'll do nothing but blow up in your face."

Hermia blanched. "I... I have to speak with my lawyer."

"Talk fast, Hermia," Gianna called after her as the Asari beat a hasty retreat down the walkway. "Once the fines land, you won’t be able to afford him."

Alexis let out a quiet laugh behind her helmet. Tali stepped back to her side, her arms folded in amusement.

"Well," Tali said, "at least we didn’t get into a firefight this time helping her."

"That would’ve been preferable," Grunt muttered. The dry delivery earned a burst of laughter from both Alexis and Tali.

Gianna turned back toward them with a satisfied look. "Ah, that was good. I’ve got to file a few papers to make this all official. Thanks for help again, Shepard.”

She disappeared into the crowd as quickly as she had arrived, leaving the squad momentarily quiet.

"She always like that?" Jack asked.

"Pretty much," Alexis replied. "Last time I saw her, we exposed a corrupt executive and outran half of Noveria’s security force."

Jack gave a short, barking laugh. "Alright, I like her."

Garrus rejoined the group, having wandered back from the weapon displays. "So. How long before Hermia tries to skip town, do you think?"

"Not long," Alexis said. "But she won’t get far. Parasini’s the kind that finishes what she starts."

Garrus chuckled. "Just like someone else I know."

With the tension eased and their detour handled, Alexis turned toward the elegant structure a few storefronts away, its doors marked with Liara’s insignia. Her hand flexed slightly at her side.

"Alright," she said. "Let’s go see Liara."

They moved as one, leaving behind the remnants of another day in the shadowed dealings of Illium’s trading floor. No shots fired. No blood spilled. But just as effective.

And maybe, Alexis thought, that counted for something.

Chapter 31: XXXI

Summary:

The information broker and the assassin.

Notes:

Sorry for the time between uploads for this fic! It's not abandoned I am still working on it, just was really struggling with writers block for this one.

I am going to probably changing the upload schedule to more when I have a chapter ready instead of pushing myself to always get a chapter out each week as I think that is partially what the problem was, I burnt out slightly.

I have also got a discord now where you can find my other fics, and WIP's and such. Link at the bottom.

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXXI

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

The stairs leading up to the administration level were flanked by polished stone railings, each etched with delicate Asari filigree. Light from Illium's twin moons filtered in through tall windows, casting a soft glow over the well-maintained atrium at the top. As the squad crested the final step, the receptionist's desk came into view—sleek, minimal, and unmistakably corporate.

An Asari, her skin a rich shade of violet with soft blue facial markings, looked up and immediately brightened. Her professional demeanor didn’t quite hide the subtle curiosity in her gaze as she took in the heavily armed group.

"Welcome to Dr. T'Soni's office," she said smoothly, her voice carrying a crisp accent. "She’ll be pleased to see you. One moment, please."

Her fingers danced across the terminal embedded in the desk, and with a soft ping , the security field over the office doors flickered and dissolved.

"You can go in," the receptionist added. "And thank you for not starting a gunfight on the trading floor. It… happens more than you think."

"We're trying to be on our best behaviour," Alexis said dryly.

The door slid open silently as they stepped through into Liara's private office. It was spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the sprawl of Nos Astra. A light breeze curled in through an open ventilation slit near the top, barely ruffling the datapads scattered across the sleek, dark desk near the centre of the room.

Liara T'Soni stood with her back to them, arms crossed, facing the panoramic window. She was engaged in a tense call with a human male, the flickering blue holo-image hovering at her side.

"You can wire the payment now," Liara said coldly, her voice sharp as a monofilament blade. "Or I can have an Asari commando unit deliver the invoice directly. If I have to track you across another star system, I will not be as courteous next time. And trust me, if I wanted you broken, you would be." She paused. "I will flay you with my mind, do you understand me?"

The man’s panicked protests were cut short as Liara ended the call with a flick of her fingers.

The silence that followed lasted a breath.

Then she turned.

Her eyes widened as she saw the group—specifically the figure at the front of it.

"Alexis?"

Her voice cracked on the name. The hardened edge from the prior conversation melted away in a heartbeat. In its place stood the Liara T'Soni they had fought beside against Saren and Sovereign—wiser now, matured by pain, but still Liara.

She took a few steps forward, her mouth opening, closing, then finally settling into a stunned, shaky smile. "You're really here."

Alexis only managed a nod before Liara surged forward and wrapped her in a fierce hug.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Tali smiled behind her helmet, stepping forward to gently place a hand on Liara's back.

"Don't squeeze too hard," Alexis said softly, voice muffled against Liara's shoulder. "Still recovering from dying, remember?"

Liara gave a wet-sounding laugh, pulling back enough to meet Alexis's visor with glistening eyes. "I thought I'd never see you again. When I heard—when they said you were dead, I—"

"I was," Alexis replied. "Cerberus had other plans."

Liara looked to Tali and Garrus, her expression tightening with emotion. She hugged Tali first, more careful but no less heartfelt. "You're both here. Thank the Goddess."

Garrus gave a one-armed embrace in return. "Someone has to keep her out of trouble."

"Clearly," Liara muttered, stepping back. Her gaze shifted to the two newcomers.

"Jack and Grunt," Alexis introduced. "They're part of my crew."

Jack gave a small nod, her expression wary. Grunt looked around the office, clearly unimpressed by its lack of weapons.

"You look well," Liara said at last, her voice still thick with barely controlled emotion.

Alexis chuckled bitterly. "You should see the inside."

Liara's smile faded slightly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. When it happened. I tried to find your body. I tried ."

"I know," Alexis said quietly. "EDI filled me in. And I read your file. You did more than anyone else could have."

"Still. It wasn't enough."

Tali stepped forward. "It was more than most. And we wouldn't be standing here if not for you."

Liara took a breath and then nodded. "Thank you. All of you."

She turned toward the desk and gestured. "Please, sit. We have a lot to talk about."

Alexis followed, casting one last look out the window as the team settled in. Outside, the spires of Illium sparkled under the alien stars.

She was back in a world she never expected to see again. Surrounded by people who'd moved heaven and earth to remember her.

And one of them, standing just a few feet away, had spent two years building an empire of information—all in her name.

It was time to find out just what Liara had become in the time Alexis had been gone.

"So, threatening to flay people now?" Alexis asked with a raised eyebrow as she shifted in her seat.

Liara flushed slightly at the question. "Oh that? That was just a customer unhappy with the information he received. He’ll pay, they always do—but sometimes need a bit of encouragement. Ever since I helped you stop Saren, people have wanted to be my friend. Or at least, not be my enemy. I’ve set up a position as an information broker since... well... the past two years. And now you are back, gunning for the Collectors."

"That is not exactly public knowledge, despite the amount of people that seem to know about it already," Alexis said with a slight tone of frustration.

"Neither is you being alive. Information is my business now—but you’re right, those who know how to look can find quite a few crumbs of trails leading to that information," Liara replied.

Jack grumbled behind them, arms crossed. "Fucking Cerberus. Always trying to manipulate things."

Alexis gave a soft sigh. "As good as it is to see you again—and believe me, it is—I do need information too. Do you know anything about Thane Krios? He’s supposed to be here on Illium."

Liara’s demeanor shifted slightly, falling back into the role of professional broker. "The assassin? Yes, he arrived a few days ago. My sources suggest he may be targeting a corporate executive—Nassana Dantius. He contacted a woman named Seryna. She works in the cargo transfer levels. She might be able to give you a more direct lead."

"Thanks. I’m also looking for an Asari named Samara. Any idea where I might find her?"

"Samara... yes. She arrived recently and registered with Tracking Officer Dara. You’ll find Dara in the transportation hub."

Alexis tilted her head slightly. "Why is she being tracked?"

"Samara is a Justicar. An ancient sect of Asari warriors. Dara can tell you more, but suffice it to say—Justicars don’t exactly blend in."

Alexis nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks, Liara. I’d ask you to come with me like old times, but I imagine you have responsibilities now."

Liara’s face softened again, sadness tugging at her features. "I do. I have things here I can't leave behind."

"I understand," Alexis said as she stood. "If you ever need help with anything, you know how to contact us. Hopefully next time, we can just relax. No business. No disasters."

Liara smiled wistfully. "I’d like that."

Tali stepped forward and gave Liara another hug. "Stay safe, alright? And maybe ease up on the mind-flaying threats."

Liara gave a small laugh. "No promises."

"Besides," Tali said with a grin, "you’ve got enough charm to bankrupt people without threatening them."

Garrus smirked as he stepped in. "So. Threatening to flay people with your mind. That’s a new one. Has a nice ring to it though. Very ominous. You’ve changed."

"So have you," Liara replied.

"Yeah, but I still leave the ominous threats to the professionals. This city? It’s like Omega in a tuxedo. Looks clean, but I bet the back alleys are just as bloody."

"You’re not wrong," Liara admitted.

"Well, it’s been good seeing you, Liara. Hopefully next time it won’t involve assassins or Justicars or ancient alien boogeymen."

Liara laughed softly and nodded. "Take care of them, Garrus."

"Always."

Jack and Grunt were already heading for the door but paused just outside. Jack gave Liara a once-over and offered a casual smirk. "You’re not what I expected. Thought you’d be another tight-laced bureaucrat hiding behind a data wall."

Liara gave a small, knowing smile. "Given what I’ve read about you, Jack, I’m flattered you stopped short of calling me a Cerberus drone."

Jack shrugged, grin widening. "Alexis already warned me not to judge you too fast. She was right. You’ve got a reputation... and a spine. I can work with that."

"The feeling’s mutual," Liara replied, folding her arms.

Grunt stood beside her, eyeing Liara with narrowed interest. "You’re efficient. That’s good. I still think it’d be faster if we just shot half the people in this city."

Liara arched an eyebrow. "An approach with its own logic, I suppose. But not very profitable."

"Profit’s boring," Grunt muttered, folding his arms across his chest with a frustrated grunt.

"Maybe," Alexis said, placing a hand on his shoulder—not heavy, but firm. "But sometimes boring means people stay alive. There’s strength in knowing when to hold back."

Grunt tilted his head. "Krogan don’t hold back."

"You do now," Alexis replied gently, meeting his gaze through her visor. "You’re part of a team, Grunt. That means learning when to fight, and when to wait. You’re not just built for war—you’re built to survive it. There’s more to strength than rage."

He blinked at her, confused but not resistant. "Waiting feels wrong. But... I want to be better."

Alexis smiled slightly, her tone soft. "Then you’re already ahead of most. You’re not wrong to want the chaos. I just want you to choose it—rather than letting it choose you."

Grunt gave a small grunt of consideration, looking toward the door where the rest of the squad had left. "I still hope someone tries to shoot at us."

"They probably will," Alexis said with a chuckle. "Just don’t be the first one to shoot back. Let me try words first. Then you can enjoy the chaos. Deal?"

He nodded slowly. "Deal."

Alexis turned back one last time, meeting Liara’s gaze. "I’ll be back soon. Keep your head down."

Liara’s voice was soft. "Only if you promise not to die again."

Alexis smirked. "Trying to make that a habit."

And with that, the squad stepped out into the golden light of Illium, leaving Liara watching the door long after it hissed shut.

Back in the office, Liara let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Then she turned, composed once more, and began issuing commands into her console, her voice calm but urgent. Whatever the next steps were, she would be ready.

The walk from Liara’s office to the cargo district took them through Nos Astra’s bustling commerce levels, down from the glassy heights of administration to the shadowed arteries of Illium’s economy. The sky overhead had begun to darken, the sun slipping behind the vertical skyline. Towering buildings loomed around them like silent watchers, gleaming gold and violet in the low light. Market screens blinked with adverts in Asari, Human, and Volus script, promising everything from cutting-edge cybernetics to eternal youth through biotic rejuvenation.

Alexis kept her pace steady, her breath even inside her helmet, but her mind was already processing possibilities. Thane Krios. Nassana Dantius. Samara. A mission with far too many unknowns for her liking.

They approached the shipping office—a small outpost carved into the side of a logistics tower, with crates stacked outside and two Asari workers managing the desk. The atmosphere was far more subdued here than the open trading floor—less glamor, more grease and gravity.

Alexis approached the counter with a measured stride. She read the nametag before speaking.

“Seryna?”

The purple-skinned Asari barely looked up from the glowing console under her fingers. “Who wants to know?”

“Someone with questions,” Alexis replied, folding her arms. “Liara T’Soni said you’d be the one to speak to about Thane Krios.”

At that, Seryna finally looked up. Her gaze flicked from Alexis’s helmeted face to the rest of the squad flanking her: Garrus standing casually with a hand near his pistol, Tali observing quietly from beneath her hood, Jack shifting impatiently on her feet, and Grunt towering behind them, arms crossed like a living wall.

Seryna’s jaw tensed slightly. She turned to the other Asari behind the desk. “Tana, cover for me.”

She stepped out from behind the console and motioned for them to follow her around the corner to a more secluded section of the cargo dock, where the ambient noise of machinery and transport drones provided a low, humming veil.

“Yeah, I know who Thane Krios is,” she said in a low voice. “I might have passed him some intel. But I didn’t hire him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“What do you know, then?” Alexis asked.

Seryna crossed her arms, eyeing Alexis’s opaque visor with a bit more respect now. “I ran security for Nassana Dantius. Then I found out she was ordering hits—getting people killed to cover up her dirty secrets. I confronted her. She fired me. Big mistake.”

She gave a wry smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Garrus cocked his head. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“She was a representative on the Citadel, few years back,” Seryna offered.

Tali tilted her head. “Wasn’t she the one that tricked us into killing her slaver sister?”

Alexis gave a short nod, the name snapping into place as the Geth programs and EDI fed her the old report summaries. “Yeah. That’s her.”

“I thought that was just a rumor,” Seryna muttered, though she didn’t sound particularly surprised.

“She manipulated us,” Garrus muttered. “And now she’s got enough power to get assassins sent after her?”

“She climbed the corporate ladder like it was a battlefield. She has power here in Nos Astra. Real power. The kind that keeps her enemies dead and her friends afraid.”

“This is sounding more and more like Omega,” Garrus said, his tone dry.

“It is sounding more and more like a fight,” Grunt growled.

Jack cracked her knuckles. “Why am I not surprised?”

Alexis ignored the commentary, eyes still on Seryna. “So where do we find Thane?”

Seryna pointed toward the glittering spires in the distance, twin skyscrapers that loomed like obsidian blades against the skyline. “The Dantius Towers. He’s after Nassana. If he’s smart—and from what I’ve heard, he is—he’ll use the under-construction tower to infiltrate the finished one. You want to catch up to him, that’s where you start.”

“I doubt Nassana’s going to just let me walk in the front door,” Alexis said, already calculating the likely resistance.

“She’s paranoid. Ruthless. You won’t get close without bloodshed. But I can get you in—back way, through the construction site. You’ll have one shot. That’s it.”

Alexis turned slightly to look at her team. Tali and Garrus both nodded without hesitation. Jack gave a feral grin. Grunt didn’t say anything—he just rolled his shoulders, clearly itching for combat.

“We’ll take it,” Alexis said, turning back to Seryna. “When do we go?”

“Shift workers are still clearing out from tower two. Give it a little time. I’ll get you in once they’re gone—less chance for collateral. Get your gear ready.”

Alexis nodded. “We’ll be ready.”

Seryna gave her a sharp look. “You’d better be. Dantius doesn’t play fair. And if Krios is involved, then things are already a lot more complicated than they look.”

“Nothing’s ever simple,” Alexis muttered, watching the distant towers glitter in the light of a dying sun.

“Welcome to Illium,” Seryna said. “Where everything’s for sale, even your own hitman.”

 

~~

 

The squad's transport hummed quietly through Illium's skyways, weaving between gleaming spires that stretched toward the darkening sky. The city's lights began to flicker on below them, casting geometric patterns across the glass and steel landscape. Alexis sat rigid in the front passenger seat, her helmet's HUD cycling through tactical readouts as she studied the approaching towers.

"The towers are heavily guarded," Seryna said, her hands steady on the controls as she navigated between traffic lanes. "You'll find more resistance the closer you get to the penthouse. Corporate security doesn't mess around—especially not Nassana's people." She glanced at Alexis through the rearview display. "So, this assassin... you planning to stop him?"

"We're just here to make sure he survives," Alexis replied, her voice flat and focused. Through her visor, she could see the tactical overlay mapping potential entry points and security stations.

Seryna's eyebrows rose slightly. "Interesting approach. Most people would either hire him or hunt him."

"We're not most people," Garrus muttered from the back seat, checking the thermal clip in his Mantis rifle.

The transport banked left, and suddenly the Dantius Towers filled their view—twin obsidian monoliths rising from Illium's urban sprawl like jagged teeth. The completed tower gleamed with active lights and moving shadows behind its windows, while its twin remained a skeletal framework of exposed girders and construction equipment.

"There they are," Seryna said, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "The Dantius Towers. You'll need to ascend the incomplete tower to reach the skybridge, then cross over to the finished structure. Her mercenaries will fight you every step of the way, but it's your only shot at getting close without triggering the building's full security grid."

Alexis studied the towers through the transport's canopy, noting the construction cranes, exposed elevator shafts, and half-finished floors that would provide both cover and vulnerability. "How current is your intel on their defensive positions?"

"Updated as of this morning. Nassana's paranoid—she's got overlapping fields of fire on every approach except the construction site. That's why your assassin friend is taking this route."

"Alright, take us in," Alexis ordered, her fingers flexing around her rifle grip.

Tali leaned forward from her seat. "What about civilian casualties? Are there still workers in the construction tower?"

"Night shift ended an hour ago," Seryna replied, guiding the transport toward a small landing platform jutting from the tower's base. "Should be clear, but—"

The sharp crack of gunfire echoed from within the tower's lower levels, visible through the incomplete walls. Muzzle flashes strobed in the darkness like deadly fireflies.

"Scratch that," Seryna said grimly, bringing the transport down with practiced efficiency. The landing struts touched the platform with barely a whisper. "Don't linger too long. They'll be here to greet you soon enough."

The squad filed out quickly, boots hitting the platform's metal grating with purposeful thuds. Jack cracked her knuckles, biotics already beginning to shimmer around her hands. Grunt rolled his massive shoulders, the servos in his armor whining softly as he adjusted his grip on his shotgun.

"Contact incoming," Tali warned, her omni-tool already scanning the structure ahead.

Seryna's transport lifted off immediately, its engines fading into the urban background noise as the squad turned toward the tower entrance.

Through the incomplete walls and construction barriers, they could see the source of the gunfire: a team of LOKI mechs, their optical sensors glowing red in the dim light, systematically executing two Salarian workers who had been caught in the crossfire. The workers' bodies crumpled to the concrete floor as the mechs turned their attention to the new arrivals. Behind them, two larger FENRIS mechs unfolded from their crouch positions, their heavy cannons already tracking toward the squad.

"Well, that was faster than expected," Garrus said dryly, his Mantis rifle already sliding into his hands with practiced ease.

"Yeah, we normally at least get through the door first," Tali added, her Claymore shotgun emerging from its magnetic holster with a satisfying click.

Alexis drew her Valkyrie assault rifle in one fluid motion, the weapon's systems humming to life as she targeted the nearest LOKI. "Guess Nassana's security got the memo. Spread out and advance. Tali, can you disrupt their targeting systems?"

"Already on it," Tali replied, her omni-tool flaring as she prepared an overload attack.

Grunt stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow across the platform. "Finally," he rumbled, chambering a round in his Claymore with obvious satisfaction.

Jack's biotics flared brighter, her lips pulling back in a feral grin. "About damn time. I was getting bored."

The LOKI mechs opened fire, their synchronized barrage forcing the squad into the industrial cover scattered around the platform's edge. Sparks flew from the metal barriers as the squad prepared their counterattack.

"So much for the subtle approach," Alexis muttered, then raised her voice over the gunfire. "Light them up!"

Grunt surged forward like a living battering ram, his massive frame cutting through the gunfire with preternatural focus. His Claymore roared at point-blank range, the devastating blast core-punching the nearest FENRIS mech. The machine staggered backward, internal systems sparking wildly before erupting in a spectacular shower of debris and molten metal.

Garrus had already found his rhythm behind a concrete pillar, his Mantis rifle singing its deadly song. Two precise shots dropped the rear LOKI mechs before they could properly coordinate their fire, their optical sensors going dark as they crumpled to the construction debris.

Jack flowed around Grunt's charge like liquid lightning, staying just clear of his devastating advance while her biotics flared with violent intensity. She caught the remaining FENRIS mech in a crushing biotic grip, her face twisted in savage concentration as she compressed its armor plating until it screamed. With a grunt of effort, she hurled the dying machine at the last LOKI, both mechs colliding in a thunderous crash of twisted metal.

Alexis moved with surgical precision, her Valkyrie spitting controlled bursts into the final surviving mech. The rounds punched through its chest plating in rapid succession, each shot calculated and devastating. The LOKI twitched once, twice, then toppled backward with a final electronic whine.

Silence settled over the construction site like a heavy blanket, broken only by the distant hum of Illium's traffic and the settling creak of cooling metal. The squad advanced in practiced formation—Alexis taking point with Grunt flanking left and Tali right, Jack maintaining middle distance behind them while Garrus covered their six with his rifle still ready.

The incomplete corridors stretched ahead, exposed rebar and unfinished walls creating an industrial maze. Emergency lighting cast harsh shadows that danced with their movement. Alexis's HUD highlighted a trail of emerald droplets leading deeper into the structure.

"Salarian blood," she announced quietly, her visor's medical scanner confirming the bio-signature. "Someone's hurt."

They followed the trail around a corner where they found him—a Salarian worker slumped against an unfinished wall, his orange coveralls dark with blood. His breathing was shallow, labored.

"Help..." he gasped, large eyes tracking upward as their shadows fell across him.

"He's still alive," Garrus said, surprise coloring his voice as he kept watch while Tali immediately dropped to one knee beside the injured worker.

"I can't feel my legs... my chest is killing me," the Salarian wheezed, his throat sac fluttering with each painful breath.

Alexis crouched down beside Tali, her voice gentle but urgent. "What happened here?"

"We're just night workers!" The Salarian's words came in gasping bursts. "Nassana sent them after us... We didn't hear the evacuation order, so they started shooting. No warnings. Just... just death."

"They attacked without provocation?" Alexis pressed, needing confirmation.

"Yes... we were too slow to clear out. It was horrible. Everyone screaming..." His voice cracked with remembered terror. "The mercenaries said there was no time. Nassana wanted us gone immediately. Then the... the mechs..." He dissolved into a coughing fit that flecked his lips with blood.

Tali was already working, her omni-tool glowing as she applied medical gel to his worst injuries. "This should ease the pain and stabilize you until proper help arrives," she said softly, her voice carrying the compassion that made her such an effective field medic.

"Thank you... that helps. A lot," the worker said, managing to sit up straighter as the medi-gel took effect.

Alexis kept her voice calm, professional. "Do you have any idea why Nassana would order the execution of her own workers?"

The Salarian's expression hardened with bitter understanding. "To her, we're just numbers on a balance sheet. Expendable. But I didn't realize she was this ruthless. My friends, my coworkers... slaughtered like animals. Some jumped from the upper floors trying to escape the FENRIS units."

"I'll help any survivors I find," Alexis promised, her voice carrying the weight of a soldier's oath.

The worker nodded gratefully as Garrus opened the door leading deeper into the structure. "Thank you," he said, struggling to his feet with newfound stability from the medical treatment. He limped away toward what he hoped was safety.

The squad moved through the doorway into a corridor that ran along the building's exterior. The entire right wall was floor-to-ceiling transparent aluminum, offering a breathtaking view of Nos Astra's glittering skyline. The city spread out below them like a circuit board made of light and ambition.

As they emerged into a larger open area—what would eventually become an office space—movement flickered in the shadows ahead. Eclipse mercenaries in distinctive yellow armor took cover behind construction equipment while more LOKI mechs deployed in a coordinated firing line.

"Contact front!" Alexis called, already moving to cover.

The engagement was swift and decisive. Three members of this squad—Alexis, Tali, and Garrus—moved with the fluid coordination of soldiers who had bled together, fought together, survived together. They anticipated each other's movements like dancers performing a deadly ballet. Tali's tech attacks disrupted shields at precisely the moment Garrus's shots found their targets, while Alexis's suppressing fire kept enemies pinned for the killing blows.

Jack and Grunt, newer to this particular rhythm, still proved devastatingly effective—raw power and controlled fury that complemented the veterans' surgical precision.

In moments, the resistance was eliminated, leaving only the echo of gunfire and the acrid smell of burned metal hanging in the recycled air.

The squad methodically fought their way through the tower's maze of unfinished corridors, each encounter with Eclipse mercenaries and their mechanical support becoming routine—identify cover, coordinate fire, eliminate targets, advance. The sound of their boots on concrete and the hiss-click of thermal clips being swapped punctuated their steady ascent through the construction zone.

They found their route upward through a partially completed stairwell, the ramp winding around exposed structural beams and hanging cables. Emergency lighting cast harsh shadows that moved with their passage, creating a disorienting maze of light and darkness as they climbed toward the next level.

Emerging onto the upper floor, Alexis held up a closed fist, freezing the squad in place as voices echoed from around the corner. She pressed herself against an unfinished wall, gesturing for the others to maintain silence.

"Hey... I think he went in there," a nervous male voice said, the words carrying clearly through the incomplete structure.

"Well go get him," came the sharp reply from a female mercenary, her tone brooking no argument.

"Uh, you go," the first merc countered, fear evident in his voice.

"Get your ass in there. Nassana isn't paying you to stand around," the woman snapped back with the authority of someone used to command.

"Fine... but I..." The mercenary's protest was cut short by the unmistakable sounds of hand-to-hand combat—a sharp impact, a muffled grunt, then the heavy thump of a body hitting concrete.

Before Alexis could process what they'd just heard, the sharp whine of LOKI mechs powering up forced her into action. She dove sideways as particle beam fire scorched the air where she'd been standing.

"Contact!" she barked into her comm, rolling behind a stack of steel girders as more shots peppered her position.

Grunt's booming laughter echoed through the construction site as he charged directly into the mechanical firing line. His massive shoulder connected with the first LOKI mech in a bone-jarring impact that sent it crashing backward into its companions. His Claymore roared twice in rapid succession, reducing the tangled mechs to smoking scrap.

"We're at least on the right track," Tali observed dryly over the squad comm, her omni-tool flaring as she stripped the shields from an Eclipse mercenary. The man's protective barrier collapsed just as Alexis put a controlled burst through his chest plate.

The mercenaries themselves weren't particularly skilled—corporate security rather than hardened fighters—but they compensated with sheer numbers. Wave after wave emerged from cover positions throughout the construction zone, forcing the squad to fight a running battle through rooms filled with equipment and half-completed infrastructure.

Jack's biotics sent a group of mercs flying into exposed rebar, while Garrus picked off stragglers with methodical precision. The engagement lasted longer than Alexis preferred, but eventually the last Eclipse soldier fell, leaving them in relative quiet.

They reached a sealed security door at the far end of the floor, its red access light blinking ominously. Tali moved forward immediately, her omni-tool interfacing with the lock mechanism.

"Standard corporate encryption," she muttered, fingers dancing over holographic displays. "Give me thirty seconds."

The lock disengaged with a soft chime, and the door slid open to reveal three Salarians huddled together in what appeared to be a storage closet, their large eyes wide with terror.

"Please, don't kill us! We'll go!" the middle Salarian shouted, throwing his hands up protectively.

"Wait... they're not Eclipse," the one on the left said slowly, rising to his feet as he studied their armor and weapons. "Are you here to help us?"

Alexis lowered her rifle, her voice calm and reassuring. "Sort of. It's safe to come out. Have you seen anyone else who isn't a mercenary?"

"Well, whoever sealed us in here," the Salarian on the right replied, gesturing toward the door's internal locking mechanism.

"We thought we were dead when he found us," the left one continued, his voice shaky with remembered fear. "But he just closed the doors and locked us in. Protected us."

Garrus stepped forward, his mandibles clicking thoughtfully. "Locked you in for protection? Sounds like our assassin was trying to keep you safe."

"Assassin?" the right Salarian wondered, his throat sac fluttering with nervous energy.

"Here for Nassana, I'd bet," the middle one said with bitter satisfaction. "She has it coming. You treat people like this, it always comes back to bite you in the ass."

"You shouldn't stay here much longer," Alexis advised. "It should be safer on the lower floors—we've cleared most of the resistance between here and the exit."

"I was thinking the same thing. Let's go, everyone," the middle Salarian said, guiding his companions toward the stairwell they'd just ascended.

Alexis watched them disappear down the ramp before turning her attention to the elevator bank across the room. The polished metal doors stood in stark contrast to the unfinished construction around them—a glimpse of what this floor would eventually become.

She approached the call button and pressed it, then immediately stepped back and to the side.

"We're pretty exposed out here," Garrus observed, his rifle trained on the elevator doors. "Especially if anyone's waiting in that elevator."

"Yep, take cover," Alexis ordered, then smoothly vaulted over a nearby crate of construction supplies, adding an unnecessary slide across its top before dropping into cover behind it.

Tali rolled her eyes dramatically behind her visor. "Show-off," she muttered, moving around the crate like a sensible person while Jack snorted with amusement.

"What?" Alexis said innocently from her cover position. "It looked cool."

"It looked like you were trying to impress someone," Garrus replied dryly, taking position behind a support beam.

The elevator chimed softly as it arrived, the doors sliding open to reveal... an empty car.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Jack said, not moving from her cover position.

"Better than a squad of Eclipse mercs with rockets," Tali pointed out pragmatically.

Alexis rose from behind her crate, checking the elevator car's ceiling and corners before stepping inside. "Come on. We've got an assassin to catch up with."

The doors parted with a gentle chime, revealing a partially completed floor that would eventually serve as executive offices. Large transparisteel windows dominated the outer wall, offering a breathtaking view of the city's heart. An Eclipse mercenary stood silhouetted against the panoramic vista, his distinctive yellow armor stark against the twilight sky as he spoke into his comm unit.

"We don't need any reinforcements, it's under control," he was saying, his voice carrying the confident authority of someone who believed he had the situation well in hand. "I'll go down there and take care of it myself."

The squad moved with practiced silence, boots whisper-soft on the polished concrete as they fanned out in a perfect arc behind the unsuspecting mercenary. Grunt's massive frame blocked the elevator doors while Tali and Jack took flanking positions. Garrus found an angle that would give him a clear shot if negotiations went poorly.

Alexis let the mercenary finish his conversation before speaking, her voice cutting through the ambient wind noise like a blade. "Turn around. Slowly."

The mercenary's shoulders tensed, his hand instinctively moving toward his sidearm before better judgment prevailed. He turned with deliberate care, his eyes taking in the military-grade weapons trained on him before settling on Grunt's intimidating bulk and the Claymore shotgun pointed directly at his chest.

"Damn it," he muttered, recognizing immediately that he was outgunned and outmaneuvered.

Alexis stepped forward, her voice deadly calm. "Tell me where the assassin is, and you might walk away from this."

The mercenary's jaw tightened, but he managed a defiant sneer. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be wasting my time talking to you. You're not one of Nassana's mercs—who the hell are you?"

"Wrong question," Alexis replied, taking another measured step forward. The mercenary instinctively backed toward the window, the vast drop behind the transparisteel suddenly feeling very close. "You've got two ways down from here. Express or coach. Your choice."

"Look, pal," the mercenary said, his bravado wavering as his back nearly touched the window, "even if I knew where he was, I wouldn't tell you. That's not how this works."

Alexis took another step, her presence filling the space between them. Behind her visor, her expression was unreadable, but her voice carried the weight of absolute certainty. "Not the answer I was looking for."

"I've got nothing more to say to you," the mercenary said, trying to reclaim some authority. "If you shoot me, my team's right through there, and they'll—"

His words cut off abruptly as Alexis's cybernetic arm shot forward, grabbing him by the chest plate. For a moment, time seemed suspended—the mercenary's eyes wide with sudden understanding, the city lights twinkling far below. Then, with mechanical precision and crushing force, she hurled him backward through the transparisteel.

The window exploded outward in a shower of crystalline fragments, the mercenary's scream dopplering away into the night wind before being swallowed by the city's ambient noise.

"Express it is," Alexis said quietly, brushing glass fragments from her armor. There was no satisfaction in her voice, only the flat tone of someone who had done what was necessary.

Garrus stepped up beside her, looking down through the shattered window at the city far below. "Harsh," he observed, his voice carefully neutral. "But I suppose he chose his side."

"Could've just stunned him," Tali said softly, though her tone carried understanding rather than judgment.

"Could have," Alexis agreed. "But then we'd have had to watch our backs for the rest of the mission." She turned away from the broken window, her voice resuming its tactical edge. "And we've got enough unknowns to deal with already."

Jack snorted. "I like the direct approach. Saves time on negotiations."

The squad moved through the doorway into the next room, where the mercenary's team was positioned exactly as he'd indicated. Unfortunately for them, they'd been expecting threats from the front, not a full assault squad emerging from their rear. The engagement was swift and decisive—caught completely off-guard, the Eclipse soldiers barely managed to draw their weapons before being overwhelmed.

As the echoes of gunfire faded, Tali approached a small service door set into the room's side wall. Her omni-tool interfaced with the electronic lock, cycling through security protocols until it disengaged with a soft click.

"Got something," she announced, pushing the door open to reveal what appeared to be a maintenance closet.

Three Salarians huddled inside, their large eyes reflecting the corridor's emergency lighting. One of them—younger than the others, his coveralls marking him as a technician—clutched a heavy pistol in trembling hands.

"Get back! Get back!" he shouted, the weapon wavering as he tried to cover all the squad members at once. "I'll... I'll shoot!"

Garrus raised his hands slowly, his voice calm and non-threatening. "Easy there. Nobody wants trouble. Don't do anything you'll regret."

"I don't want to hurt you," the young Salarian continued, his voice cracking with fear and adrenaline, "but I will! I said get back!"

As the pistol swung toward Tali, Alexis moved with the fluid speed of enhanced reflexes. Her cybernetic arm shot out, fingers closing around the weapon's barrel and forcing it skyward even as her other hand caught the Salarian's wrist. The disarm was complete in less than a second—the pistol spinning away harmlessly as she gently but firmly pushed the young technician back against the wall.

"Right," she said firmly, ejecting the pistol's thermal clip and tossing the weapon aside. "Let's not wave guns around, especially at my squad, when we're not here to hurt you."

One of the older Salarians rushed forward to steady his younger colleague. "Telon! Are you hurt?"

"Nice and easy now," Alexis said, stepping back but keeping her hands visible. Behind her, she could hear the subtle sounds of her squad remaining ready—safeties off, positions maintained—but not escalating the situation. The sound was oddly reassuring.

The older Salarian in white coveralls looked toward a corner of the closet where an Eclipse mercenary lay motionless, a precise hole burned through his helmet. "Were you the ones who shot the mercs?"

"Not that one," Alexis replied, studying the body with professional interest.

"The merc found us hiding," the Salarian explained, his voice still shaky from the encounter. "Started shouting at us to move, threatening us. We panicked, and he got angrier. I thought he was going to execute us, and then..." He gestured helplessly at the corpse. "His head just... exploded. Clean shot, right through the visor. Telon grabbed the merc's gun, but we were too terrified to leave this room."

Garrus stepped forward to examine the kill shot, his mandibles clicking with professional appreciation. "Perfect headshot, no collateral damage whatsoever. Very impressive work." His tone carried the respect of one sniper for another's skill.

Alexis nodded, filing away the tactical information. Their quarry was definitely ahead of them, and clearly as skilled as his reputation suggested.

"You should leave now," she advised the Salarians. "The lower levels near the entrance should be clear—we eliminated most of the resistance on our way up."

"No need to convince me," the older Salarian said, helping Telon to his feet. "Come on, let's get out of here before more of them show up."

As the three workers hurried toward the elevator, Alexis turned back to study the precise kill shot one more time. Thane Krios was definitely ahead of them, and leaving a trail of surgical strikes that spoke to both exceptional skill and a willingness to protect innocent civilians.

"Think we can catch up to him?" Tali asked, reloading her Claymore.

"We'd better," Alexis replied, checking her rifle's ammunition counter. "Nassana's not going to go down easy, and he's going to need backup."

The squad moved deeper into the tower, following the ghost of an assassin through a building that was rapidly becoming a tomb.

As they approached the ramp leading to the next floor, a harsh voice crackled from a nearby communication terminal, cutting through the ambient wind noise.

"Where is everyone! Will somebody please give me a report!" The voice carried the sharp edge of mounting panic beneath its authoritative tone.

Alexis stepped up to the terminal, her armored fingers dancing across the interface to activate the comm system. The display flickered to life, showing an active channel to the penthouse.

"It's about time! What's going on down there!" Nassana's voice exploded from the speakers, desperation bleeding through her attempts at command.

Alexis's voice was calm, almost conversational. "I'm afraid your mercenaries aren't able to respond, Nassana."

A moment of stunned silence, then: "Damn it!" The channel cut abruptly.

Behind her visor, Alexis allowed herself a cold smile as she turned toward the ramp. "She knows we're coming."

The ascent led directly into another firefight—Eclipse mercenaries and LOKI mechs positioned in overlapping fields of fire throughout what would eventually become executive offices. The construction equipment provided scattered cover, but the defensive positions were well-chosen.

"She really has a lot of guards!" Tali shouted over the particle beam fire, sliding behind a stack of steel girders as shots scorched the air around her.

"Plenty of things to shoot!" Grunt roared with obvious joy, charging into the mercenary line. He grabbed one unfortunate soldier by the chest plate, lifting him bodily overhead before hurling him through a gap in the floor. The man's scream dopplered away into the construction void below.

The battle spilled out onto an exterior section—a curved balcony with floor-to-ceiling transparisteel windows that offered a breathtaking view of Nos Astra's glittering sprawl. Here, at the apex of the incomplete tower, wind whipped through gaps in the structure, making targeting more difficult as fabric and loose debris swirled through the air.

From this elevated position, they could see their destination: the skybridge connecting the two towers, a graceful span of metal and glass stretching across the urban canyon between them. As they approached the bridge's entrance, Nassana's voice boomed from speakers embedded in the structure.

"I don't care what you do! No one gets across that bridge!"

The skybridge became a killing field. Eclipse snipers in the completed tower's windows had perfect sight lines across the span, while more mercenaries and defensive turrets covered every meter of the crossing. Wind howled between the towers, strong enough to affect aim but not strong enough to provide real cover.

The squad hunkered down behind the bridge's entrance barriers as concentrated fire poured toward them—particle beams, mass accelerator rounds, and missile trails creating a deadly light show against the darkening sky.

Alexis quickly assessed the tactical situation, her enhanced vision picking out cover points and enemy positions. "Garrus, set up overwatch! Focus on those snipers in the far windows—they're the biggest threat. Grunt, when I give the word, we're going to advance by bounds. Tali, Jack—provide covering fire, then leapfrog forward once we reach the next position."

"Acknowledged," came the chorus of replies, each squad member moving into position with practiced efficiency.

"Now!" Alexis burst from cover, Grunt beside her like a living wall of armor and fury. They sprinted across the exposed bridge section, firing as they moved—Alexis's precise bursts suppressing enemy positions while Grunt's shotgun boomed whenever targets came within range. Behind them, Jack's biotics sent defensive barriers flying while Tali's overload attacks disrupted enemy shields at crucial moments.

They slammed into the next cover position—a maintenance station halfway across the bridge—as Garrus's rifle sang its deadly song. Enemy snipers jerked backward from their windows, their overconfident positions becoming death traps under his methodical fire.

"Move!" Alexis called, and Jack and Tali sprinted forward while she and Grunt provided covering fire from their new position.

They repeated the pattern across the bridge's length—controlled aggression cutting through the defensive line like a heated blade through armor plating. Nassana's voice continued to rage over the speakers, her commands becoming increasingly desperate as her supposedly impregnable defense crumbled.

The final approach to the penthouse was almost anticlimactic after the bridge assault. A single elevator ride brought them to the executive level, where polished corridors and corporate luxury replaced the industrial chaos below.

The penthouse doors slid open silently, revealing a spacious office with panoramic windows that offered a commanding view of the city. Nassana Dantius stood silhouetted against the setting sun, her purple business attire immaculate despite the chaos below. Three Eclipse mercenaries flanked her—an Asari, a human, and a turian, all in full combat armor with weapons ready.

"Shepard..." Nassana's voice carried genuine shock. "But you're dead."

"I got better," Alexis replied simply, her squad fanning out behind her in a practiced formation.

"And now you're here to kill me." It wasn't quite a question.

Alexis tilted her head slightly. "Interesting assumption. Could you blame me, after our last meeting on the Citadel?"

Nassana's composure cracked slightly, revealing the calculating mind beneath her corporate facade. "Screw you, Shepard. I'm sure you find this all very ironic—first you take care of my sister, now you're here for me. Well, you made it this far. Now what?"

"I'm not actually here to kill you," Alexis said, her tone almost conversational. "I'm just looking for someone."

"Looking for someone?" Nassana's voice rose incredulously. "You decimate my security, wreck my tower, leave a trail of bodies from the ground floor to my penthouse, and you expect me to believe that!"

Her desperation was showing now, the veneer of control slipping as she grasped for any advantage. "Is it credits? Just tell me your price and we can make this problem go away. I have connections, resources—"

"No," Alexis said simply. "We can't."

"I'll pay double whatever you're getting!" Nassana's voice cracked with mounting panic. "Triple! Just tell me who hired you and I'll—"

She stopped mid-sentence as her mercenaries suddenly raised their weapons, scanning the room with obvious alarm.

"What?" Nassana snapped.

"Thought I heard something," the Asari mercenary said, her eyes tracking movement that wasn't there.

"Damn it, check the other entrances," Nassana ordered, then pointed directly at Alexis. "You—stay put."

Behind Nassana and her guards, visible only to Alexis and her squad, a figure dropped from the ceiling with inhuman grace. The Drell moved like liquid shadow—one hand snapping the human mercenary's neck with surgical precision while the other delivered a devastating throat strike to the turian. The Asari was turning when Thane's pistol spoke once, a clean shot to center mass that dropped her instantly.

Nassana began to pivot, her own sidearm rising desperately, but Thane was already inside her guard. His pistol pressed against her abdomen as his other hand guided her weapon aside. The shot was muffled, professional, almost gentle. He lowered her to the floor with surprising care, folding her arms across her stomach before stepping back.

The Drell closed his eyes and began to speak in a low, melodious voice—words in an ancient tongue that carried the weight of ritual and regret.

"Impressive," Garrus commented, lowering his rifle. "You certainly know how to make an entrance."

Thane continued his prayer, seemingly oblivious to the weapons trained on him. Alexis stepped forward slowly, holstering her rifle in a gesture of non-aggression.

"Hello?" she said cautiously.

"Prayers for the wicked must never be forsaken," Thane replied without opening his eyes, his voice carrying the weight of deep conviction.

Alexis studied his still form. "I see. She certainly was wicked."

"Not for her," Thane said quietly, finally looking up to meet her visor with eyes like deep pools. "For me."

He moved around Nassana's desk with fluid grace, each step deliberate and controlled. "The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone. Take you, for instance." He gestured toward the penthouse windows, where the sounds of distant sirens and emergency vehicles drifted up from the city below. "All this destruction... chaos. I was curious to see how far you would go to find me."

His voice carried no judgment, only professional interest. "Well... here I am."

Alexis met his gaze directly. "I need your help to save lives across the galaxy. There's a race called the Collectors—they're abducting colonies. Entire populations, gone without a trace. We need to know why, and who they're working for, so we can stop them."

Thane's expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. "Attacking the Collectors would mean passing through the Omega 4 relay. No ship has ever returned from such a journey."

"We'll be the first," Alexis said with quiet certainty. No boasting, no bravado—just absolute confidence in her statement.

"You'd like me to protect humans I've never met," Thane said slowly, "from aliens no one knows anything about, by traveling to a place no one has ever returned from?"

"That's the gist of it," Alexis admitted. "But it may be humans now, but it'll be everyone else soon enough. The Collectors are just the beginning."

Thane was quiet for a long moment, his gaze distant. "This was to be my last job," he said softly. "I'm dying. Low survival odds don't concern me... but the abduction of innocents does."

Something in his tone made Alexis step closer. "You're dying? Is there anything we can do? Medical equipment we should install in our medbay?"

"I'll provide your doctor with my medical files," Thane replied, his voice carrying quiet acceptance. "But it won't affect my ability to work. We can discuss the details aboard your ship, if you're interested."

He turned toward the panoramic windows, his reflection ghostlike against the city lights. "Giving me this opportunity is enough. The universe is a dark place, Shepard. I'm trying to make it a little brighter before I die."

His voice dropped, heavy with regret. "Many innocents died today. I wasn't fast enough to save them all. They suffered because of my failure. I must atone for that."

Alexis felt a familiar weight settle in her chest—the burden of every mission that went wrong, every civilian she couldn't save, every choice that led to necessary but regrettable consequences. She understood exactly what he meant.

"I will work for you, Shepard," Thane said, extending his hand. "No charge."

As their hands met—human and Drell, both carrying the weight of necessary violence—Alexis knew she'd found more than just a skilled assassin. She'd found someone who understood the cost of doing what was right, regardless of the personal price.

"Welcome to the team, Thane," she said quietly.

Outside the penthouse windows, Nos Astra glittered in the gathering darkness, a city full of light and shadow where justice and corruption danced their eternal waltz. But tonight, at least, the scales had tipped toward something resembling balance.

Chapter 32: XXXII

Summary:

The Justiciar

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

XXXII

~~~~ Shepard vas Normandy ~~~~

 

The adrenaline from the tower assault was still thrumming through Alexis's veins as they descended back to Illium's main levels. The Normandy's shuttle had already departed with Thane aboard—the Drell assassin had said little during the brief transport, spending most of the flight in what appeared to be meditation. Now, with their newest recruit secured and their ammunition replenished from a nearby military supplier, it was time to pursue their next lead.

The tracking office sat adjacent to one of Nos Astra's busier taxi stands, its neon sign flickering intermittently in the early evening light. The constant hum of aircars filled the air, their running lights creating streams of color against the darkening sky as commuters and tourists navigated the city's vertical highways.

As they approached, Alexis could see through the office's transparisteel windows—a lone Asari officer sat behind a curved desk, her blue skin marked with the distinctive facial tattoos that indicated a career in law enforcement. She looked up as the squad entered, her expression shifting from professional courtesy to barely concealed apprehension as she took in their military-grade armor and weapons.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral but her posture subtly tense.

"We're looking for an Asari Justicar named Samara," Alexis said, removing her helmet to show her face—a gesture of respect and non-aggression.

The officer's expression immediately shifted to alarm, her eyes widening as her hands moved instinctively toward her console. "Wait. Why? Do you have a problem with her, or... did she kill somebody already?"

The naked worry in her voice spoke volumes about the Justicar's reputation, even among her own people.

"Relax," Alexis said, raising a placating hand. "I just want to talk to her."

The officer's shoulders sagged with visible relief, though tension still lingered in her posture. "Good. Samara is the first Justicar I've seen on Illium in my entire career. If I'm lucky, things will stay peaceful while she's here."

Garrus let out a low chuckle, his mandibles clicking with amusement. "Knowing us, that's highly unlikely."

Grunt's rumbling laugh echoed his agreement, the sound carrying an eager anticipation that made the Asari officer glance nervously at the massive Krogan.

"She went to the commercial spaceport a few hours ago," the officer continued, clearly eager to direct them away from her jurisdiction. "If you want to get there, the pedestal on the balcony will summon a taxi for you." She paused, then added with the air of someone offering crucial advice: "Just be polite when you meet her. Justicars embody our highest laws—they're living extensions of the Goddess's will. They usually stay in Asari space, handling matters that require... absolute authority. She's not used to dealing with aliens, and frankly, most aliens aren't prepared for dealing with her."

Tali shifted slightly, her visor's glow reflecting her curiosity. "What exactly does that mean? 'Absolute authority'?"

The officer's expression grew even more serious. "A Justicar's word is law. They can execute criminals on the spot, commandeer resources, override local authority—all in service of a moral code that's been unchanged for over three thousand years. They're judge, jury, and executioner, all bound by an oath that makes them incapable of compromise."

"Sounds like our kind of person," Jack muttered, though there was genuine interest in her voice rather than her usual sarcasm.

"That's what worries me," the officer replied. "Illium operates on... flexible interpretations of law. Corporate interests, political favors, negotiated settlements. A Justicar doesn't negotiate. If she decides someone has violated her code..." She made a cutting gesture across her throat.

Alexis absorbed this information, already considering the implications. Recruiting someone bound by an inflexible moral code could be either invaluable or catastrophic, depending on how that code aligned with their mission.

"Thank you for the warning," she said with a respectful nod. "We'll keep that in mind."

As they turned to leave, the officer called after them. "Commander? Whatever you're planning... try not to give her a reason to stay on Illium longer than necessary. Some of us have careers to think about."

The balcony overlooked one of Nos Astra's main thoroughfares, the constant stream of traffic creating a river of light that flowed between the towering spires. Alexis approached the taxi summoning pedestal, her mind already shifting to tactical considerations. If half of what the officer said was true, approaching a Justicar would require a different kind of diplomacy than they'd used with Thane.

"So," Tali said as they waited for their transport, "anyone else thinking this might be more complicated than just asking nicely?"

"When is it ever simple?" Garrus replied, checking his rifle's thermal clip out of habit. "At least with Thane, we knew what we were walking into."

"I like her already," Grunt rumbled. "Someone who doesn't waste time with talk."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, well, let's see how you feel about that when she decides your face offends her moral code."

As their taxi descended from the traffic pattern above, Alexis found herself wondering what circumstances had brought a Justicar to Illium—and whether those circumstances would help or hinder their recruitment efforts. In her experience, people with inflexible principles usually had very good reasons for them.

She had a feeling they were about to discover what those reasons were.

~~

The commercial spaceport bustled with the controlled chaos of interstellar commerce—cargo mechs trundling between landing pads, the acrid smell of thruster fuel mixing with exotic spices and industrial lubricants. Overhead, ships of every configuration descended and departed in carefully orchestrated patterns, their running lights creating brief constellations against Illium's artificial sky.

As they disembarked from their taxi, a commotion near the main terminal caught their attention. A rotund Volus merchant, resplendent in his environmental suit and flanked by two imposing Turian bodyguards in corporate security armor, had been intercepted by an Asari officer whose stance radiated barely contained frustration.

"Where do you think you're going?" the Asari demanded, her voice carrying across the platform with the authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

"I'm taking my goods to Omega, detective," the Volus replied, his respirator hissing with agitation. "Standard trade route, all permits filed—"

"You aren't going anywhere, merchant." The detective's tone brooked no argument. "Not until I've solved this murder."

"I had nothing to do with that!" The Volus's voice rose to an indignant wheeze. "It was those mercenary thugs you can't seem to get rid of! Ask anyone—my reputation is spotless!"

"The victim was your business partner," the detective countered, stepping closer to emphasize her point. "Until I rule you out completely, you're staying planetside. I'll let you know when you're free to leave."

The Volus seemed to deflate slightly before grasping at what was clearly a desperate excuse. "What about that Justicar that showed up? Everyone's saying she might go crazy and start killing indiscriminately! I need to get my operation off-world before—"

"She'll only kill the unjust," the detective interrupted with a cold smile that didn't reach her eyes. "So I'm sure you have nothing to fear, Pitne For. You can find me in the station if you need anything else."

She turned and walked away, leaving the Volus sputtering protests to his Turian guards. Alexis filed away the name—Pitne For—and the obvious guilt practically radiating from the merchant as they followed the detective toward a temporary police station that had been erected near what was obviously a crime scene.

The station was little more than prefabricated walls and emergency lighting, but it served its purpose. Asari officers maintained a perimeter around a section of the spaceport that had been cordoned off with holographic police tape, their expressions tense as they watched both the sealed area and the constant flow of civilian traffic.

The detective had settled behind a portable desk that looked like it had seen better decades. She glanced up as Alexis approached, her experienced eyes taking in the military-grade weapons and armor with professional assessment.

"Nice guns," she said dryly. "Try not to use them in my district. What can I do for you?"

Alexis took the offered seat across from the desk, noting how the detective's posture remained alert despite her casual tone. "I'm looking for an Asari Justicar named Samara."

The detective's expression immediately hardened. "If you've got a score to settle with Samara, take it somewhere else. I've got more than enough trouble here already."

"I'm here to recruit her for an important mission," Alexis clarified. "After that, we'll be out of your hair."

Something shifted in the detective's demeanor—hope, perhaps, mixed with professional skepticism. "Justicars usually work alone, but they are often drawn to impossible causes."

"We've got that more than covered," Tali interjected with audible resignation. "Seems to be the only type of cause we ever get involved with."

The detective's lips quirked in what might have been amusement. "If you're getting her out of my district, I'll get you to her ASAP. She's at the crime scene."

Alexis raised an eyebrow. "You seem rather eager to get her away from here."

"My superiors want me to detain her," the detective admitted with weary frustration. "They're terrified she'll cause a cross-species incident—apparently having someone who can't be bribed, threatened, or negotiated with makes the corporate sponsors nervous." She rubbed her temples. "But her Justicar code won't let her submit to custody while there's injustice to address. If I try to arrest her, she'll have to kill me to maintain her oath."

She shrugged with the fatalistic acceptance of a career cop caught in an impossible situation. "I have no interest in dying for corporate politics. If you can convince her to leave with some grand noble cause, everyone wins."

"Your superiors are essentially ordering you to commit suicide," Alexis observed. "You have every right to refuse."

"Let's remember that philosophy the next time Alexis sends us into impossible odds," Tali said with an audible smirk in her voice.

"That's at least twice a day," Garrus added with obvious amusement, his voice taking on the particular tone he reserved for when he was about to thoroughly embarrass his friends. "Though I'm sure you could talk her out of it by threatening to make her sleep on the couch."

Alexis felt heat creep up her neck beneath her armor's environmental seals, grateful that her helmet's HUD couldn't display a blush readout. Beside her, she caught Tali's telltale nervous fidget—the slight shift of weight from one foot to the other that she did whenever their relationship became the center of attention.

"Garrus..." Alexis warned, but her voice lacked any real menace.

The turian's mandibles flared in what could only be described as a shit-eating grin, clearly delighted at having landed such a direct hit. "What? I'm just saying, domestic harmony is important for mission effectiveness."

Tali's visor dimmed slightly as she ducked her head, and Alexis could practically hear her girlfriend's mortified expression through the suit's speakers. "Keelah, did you have to say that in front of a police officer?" Tali muttered, her voice pitched low but still audible to the squad.

The detective watched this exchange with growing fascination, her professional mask slipping to reveal genuine amusement at seeing the legendary Commander Shepard reduced to looking like a teenager caught making out behind the school.

Garrus, sensing victory, pressed his advantage with the ruthless precision he usually reserved for long-range targets. "I mean, we all know who really runs the ship anyway. Alexis just thinks she's in charge."

"I hate you," Alexis said flatly, but there was no real venom in it—just the resigned tone of someone who knew they'd been thoroughly outmaneuvered by their best friend.

"No you don't," Garrus replied smugly, clearly savoring every moment of their discomfort. "You love me, which is why you haven't spaced me for that comment."

Tali made a small sound that might have been a strangled laugh or a groan of mortification. "Can we please focus on the mission now? Before Garrus decides to share any more personal observations with law enforcement?"

Alexis turned to give her girlfriend and her surrogate brother a look of long-suffering exasperation, though the detective could probably see the fond affection beneath the mock annoyance. She glanced at Jack and Grunt, desperately hoping for backup. "Ignore those two. They think they're comedians."

Jack snorted, but her grin was predatory in a way that suggested she was filing this information away for future use. "Hey, at least they're not wrong about the impossible odds thing. Though I gotta say, Commander, didn't know you were so whipped."

"I am not—" Alexis started, then caught herself before she could dig the hole any deeper. "You know what? We're stopping this conversation right here."

The detective's professional composure finally cracked, and she covered her mouth to hide a smile that threatened to become actual laughter. "I'm a cop," she said finally. "I know my duty. I've been ordered to detain her, and I will—unless I can find a way to get her to leave my district first."

She gestured toward the cordoned-off area beyond the station. "The crime scene is around the corner. Go outside, take a left, and look for the police line. I'll send word ahead to let you through."

"Understood," Alexis said, rising from her chair. "And detective? For what it's worth, I hope this works out for everyone involved."

"So do I," the detective replied. "Because if it doesn't, tomorrow's news feeds are going to be very interesting."

As they left the station, Alexis could feel the weight of expectations settling around them like a familiar cloak. Another recruitment, another impossible situation, another chance to either gain a powerful ally or create an interstellar incident.

Just another typical day for Commander Shepard's crew.

"So," Jack said as they approached the police line, "anyone want to bet on whether this Justicar tries to arrest us for something before we even introduce ourselves?"

"I'm not taking that bet," Garrus replied. "I've learned better than to gamble against our luck."

Alexis led the squad toward the Asari police line, the industrial hum of the spaceport gradually giving way to an unsettling quiet. Emergency lighting cast harsh shadows across the maintenance corridors, and the usual bustle of commerce felt muted, as if the very air recognized that something fundamental had shifted in this section of the facility.

"Watch yourself," one of the officers warned as they approached the holographic barriers. "Detective Anaya told us to let you through, but there's confirmed mercenary activity ahead. We're waiting for backup before proceeding."

The officer's stance was tense, her weapon held with the careful readiness of someone who'd already seen too much action today. Behind her, other Asari officers maintained defensive positions, their eyes constantly scanning the sealed corridors beyond.

Alexis nodded her acknowledgment as they passed through the barrier. The moment they turned the corner into the maintenance hallway, she drew her assault rifle, the magnetic locks disengaging with their familiar mechanical chorus. Behind her, the squad followed suit—weapons extending, shields powering up, tactical systems coming online in a symphony of military precision.

As they advanced through the narrow corridor, voices echoed from ahead—the clipped, professional tones of mercenaries coordinating operations.

"Get the rest of Bravo squad prepped and in position," a voice commanded, carrying the authority of field leadership. "Alpha went after that Justicar twenty minutes ago, and they've gone completely dark. No comms, no check-ins, nothing."

Alexis pressed herself against the wall and leaned carefully around the corner. Her tactical HUD immediately began tagging targets—six Eclipse mercenaries in defensive positions, flanked by three LOKI mechs whose red optical sensors swept the hallway in methodical patterns. They'd created a proper killing field, with overlapping fields of fire and minimal cover for attackers.

She pulled back and issued silent hand signals—a complex series of gestures that conveyed tactical positions, target priorities, and engagement timing. Tali and Garrus moved into position before she'd even finished, their military training translating her commands into fluid action. Grunt was a half-second behind, his enthusiasm barely contained as he positioned himself for a frontal assault. Jack, lacking formal military experience beyond the crash course they'd given her after breaking her out of Purgatory, simply found good cover and prepared to unleash biotic hell.

The engagement was swift and decisive. Caught in their own defensive positions with nowhere to retreat, the Eclipse forces found themselves trapped in the very killing field they'd prepared for the Justicar. Coordinated fire from multiple angles collapsed their defense in seconds, leaving only smoking wreckage and the acrid smell of burned electronics.

At the corridor's end, another police line blocked access to what appeared to be the primary crime scene. The holographic barriers flickered slightly, their emergency power sources straining to maintain the perimeter.

Alexis led the way through the sealed door, only to immediately duck as a bone-chilling scream filled the air above her head. A body—an Eclipse mercenary in distinctive yellow armor—sailed overhead in a perfect arc before impacting the far wall with a sickening crack of breaking bones. The corpse slumped to the ground, dark fluid pooling beneath the shattered helmet.

Looking up toward the source of the projectile, Alexis saw a tableau that would have been artistic if it weren't so terrifying. An older Asari in a form-fitting red bodysuit stood silhouetted against the industrial lighting, dark energy crackling around her form like contained lightning. Her posture radiated controlled fury as she advanced on another Eclipse mercenary who was backing away with obvious terror.

"Where was she sent?" Samara demanded, her voice carrying the absolute authority of someone accustomed to unquestioning obedience. "Give me the name of the ship, and your death will be swift."

The mercenary—a young Asari whose yellow armor was scorched and dented—tried to maintain some semblance of defiance. "I'm not telling you anything, Justicar! One of us will take you down eventually—"

Her words cut off as Samara's biotics seized her, lifting her from the ground with effortless grace. For a moment, the mercenary hung suspended in the air, dark energy playing around her like a living thing. Then, with casual precision, Samara hurled her through a massive transparisteel panel.

The glass exploded outward in a shower of crystalline fragments as the mercenary plummeted to the level below, her scream dopplering away before being cut short by the wet impact against a stack of shipping containers.

Samara leaped after her with fluid grace, her movements more dance than combat as she descended through the shattered opening. She landed softly beside the broken mercenary, who was still alive but clearly dying, dark fluid spreading across the concrete.

With deliberate precision, Samara placed the pointed heel of her boot against the mercenary's throat, applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult without immediately crushing the windpipe.

"The name of the ship," she repeated, her voice carrying no emotion whatsoever—neither anger nor satisfaction, just implacable certainty.

"Go... to hell," the mercenary gasped, blood frothing at her lips.

"Find peace in the embrace of the Goddess," Samara replied with what might have been genuine compassion. Then she pressed down, and the sharp crack of vertebrae echoed through the cargo bay.

Only then did she seem to notice Alexis and her squad, turning toward them with the fluid grace of a predator acknowledging other apex hunters in her territory.

"My name is Samara," she said, her voice carrying centuries of absolute conviction. "I am a servant of the Justicar Code. My quarrel was with these Eclipse sisters, but I see a well-armed squad before me." Her dark eyes assessed each of them with professional interest. "Are we friend or foe?"

Alexis stepped forward, keeping her weapons lowered but ready. The sheer presence of the Justicar was almost overwhelming—like standing near a barely contained fusion reactor. "I'm Commander Alexis’Shepard vas Normandy. I need your help with a critical mission, Samara."

"You honor me with your directness, Commander," Samara replied with a slight incline of her head. "But I am in the middle of an investigation that cannot wait."

"I need your help to take down the Collectors," Alexis pressed. "They're abducting entire colonies—families, children, entire populations disappearing without a trace."

Something shifted in Samara's expression—interest, perhaps, or professional recognition. "The Collectors are indeed a worthy foe. I would relish testing myself against such opponents." Her voice carried genuine anticipation before regret crept in. "But I seek an incredibly dangerous fugitive. I cornered her here, but the Eclipse sisters smuggled her off-world. I must find the name of the ship she departed on before the trail grows cold."

"I wish you were willing to go with the human, Justicar," Detective Anaya's voice came from behind them as she entered the cargo bay, her expression carefully neutral despite the carnage surrounding them. "I've been ordered to take you into custody if you won't leave voluntarily."

Samara turned toward the detective with something that might have been sympathy. "You risk a great deal by following such orders, Detective. However, you need not fear immediate violence. My Code obligates me to submit to lawful authority for one day. After that..." She shrugged eloquently. "I must return to my investigation."

"I won't be able to release you in just one day," Anaya said, though her voice carried the resigned tone of someone who already knew how this would end.

"Then you won't be able to stop me when that day ends," Samara replied with simple certainty.

Alexis stepped between them before the situation could escalate further. "Okay, instead of anyone doing anything that ends with bodies on the floor, how about this: I find the name of the ship you're looking for while you sit wherever the detective wants to put you. Then you leave with me, everyone stays alive, and everyone gets what they need."

Samara considered this proposition with the careful attention she might give a complex legal precedent. "Do that, and the Code will be satisfied. I will accompany you on your mission."

"Do you have any leads I can follow?" Alexis asked.

"The Volus merchant, Pitne For, is deeply involved in this conspiracy," Samara replied. "Eclipse mercenaries are currently positioning to eliminate him—likely to prevent him from revealing information that could compromise their operation." Her expression grew predatory. "Extract the truth from him. He may know a way into the Eclipse base where my quarry was processed."

With that, Detective Anaya gestured for Samara to accompany her back toward the police station, the Justicar moving with serene compliance that somehow felt more threatening than any display of violence.

As they departed, Alexis let out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Why is it never simple?"

Tali moved closer, her environmental suit's servos humming softly as she leaned into Alexis's side—a gesture of comfort that had become as natural as breathing. "Well, Garrus was pretty simple to recruit," she pointed out with audible amusement. "The mercenaries even came to us to get shot."

"That's because Garrus has sense," Alexis replied, absently wrapping an arm around her girlfriend's waist. "Apparently, we're collecting the complicated ones now."

"Complicated is good," Jack observed, studying the precise violence Samara had left in her wake. "Complicated means effective."

Grunt rumbled his agreement, clearly impressed by the Justicar's efficient brutality. "I like her style. No wasted motion."

"Let's just hope we can actually deliver on this promise," Alexis muttered, already mentally cataloging the tactical challenges ahead. "Because if we can't, I have a feeling that 'complicated' is going to become a serious understatement."

The squad emerged from the blood-soaked corridor into a cargo staging area where towering stacks of shipping containers created a maze of commercial activity. The air hummed with the constant background noise of loading mechs and atmospheric processors, while the acrid smell of thruster fuel mixed with the metallic tang of recycled air.

They found Pitne For inspecting a series of sealed crates near a loading platform, his environmental suit's respirator hissing with each nervous breath as he ran a scanner over manifest labels. The Volus looked up at their approach, his body language shifting immediately to the practiced deference of a merchant reading potential customers.

"Hello, Earth-Clan," he said with the flowery politeness that Volus used when they wanted something. "Do you need something?"

Alexis felt her jaw clench at the casual designation. Earth-Clan. She'd been to Earth exactly once in her life—for N-School training that had felt more like an endurance test than a homecoming. Three months of Alliance military indoctrination on a planet that meant nothing to her beyond bureaucratic necessity. The instructors had called her "human" and expected some kind of patriotic connection that simply didn't exist. She was Quarian, had been raised Quarian, thought in Khelish half the time, and bore the name of a Quarian ship. But to the galaxy at large, her genetics made her "Earth-Clan" regardless of where her heart truly belonged and now that was suspect after Cerberus.

"I overheard your conversation with Detective Anaya earlier," Alexis said, keeping her voice carefully controlled. "I'm looking into the situation for her and the Justicar. I know it was your business partner who was killed, but you don't seem particularly concerned about his death."

Pitne For's respirator cycled faster—a tell that every experienced trader learned to hide but this one hadn't mastered yet. "Dakni Kur knew the risks when he took to spacing, Earth-Clan. The void takes many good merchants." His voice carried practiced grief that rang hollow as plasteel credits. "Right now my primary concern is for my own survival and getting my legitimate goods off-planet before this situation escalates further."

Behind her, Alexis could hear Grunt shifting his weight—the subtle sound of a predator getting restless. Tali's omni-tool was active, probably running background scans on Pitne's cargo manifests, while Garrus had positioned himself with clear sightlines to multiple exits. Jack just looked bored, which was somehow more threatening than if she'd been actively hostile.

Alexis let out a long breath and muttered a particularly creative Khelish curse that questioned Pitne's parentage, his business acumen, and his ability to navigate hyperspace. "Look, we're tired. None of this has been simple today. We just had to storm a corporate tower last night fighting through an army of mercs, fight through more mercs this morning, and watch a Justicar execute someone with her boot." She gestured casually toward Grunt, who took the cue to crack his knuckles with sounds like breaking ceramics. "So why don't you just tell me what I want to know, or I let my Krogan work out some of his boredom on your cargo containers. Maybe accidentally break a few seals, see what's really in there."

"Oh dear! Oh my!" Pitne For's environmental suit seemed to deflate as panic set in. "Please keep your Krogan under control! I'll be completely cooperative, I swear on my ancestors' profits!"

The words tumbled out in a rush of guilty confession. "I smuggled a combat stimulant onto Illium—a chemical compound that dramatically boosts biotic abilities in combat situations. Highly effective, very profitable, completely illegal." His respirator wheezed faster. "I may have... forgotten to mention to the Eclipse sisters that the compound is also highly toxic with prolonged exposure. So they are, understandably, somewhat perturbed and wish to terminate my contract permanently."

"Sounds like you brought this entirely upon yourself," Alexis observed with the dry tone of someone who'd seen too many criminals blame everyone but themselves.

"That may be factually accurate," Pitne For admitted with the grudging honesty of a cornered merchant. "But I haven't survived in competitive interstellar commerce for this long without being able to recognize when there's a profitable deal in development. You want something from me."

His posture shifted slightly—still nervous, but now with the calculating air of someone who'd spotted a business opportunity even in dire circumstances.

"I need to break into the Eclipse base," Alexis said bluntly.

"Ah! I thought as much!" Pitne For's respirator hissed with what might have been relief or excitement. "I do possess a security pass card they issued me for cargo deliveries. Well, technically I had to return that particular card, but I may have made a backup copy for my records."

Alexis raised an eyebrow, not bothering to hide her amusement at the Volus's casual admission of corporate espionage. "Of course you did."

"Standard business practice!" he protested. "Take it, please. Consider it compensation for not letting your Krogan practice his intimidation techniques on my merchandise." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "But be extremely careful. Each Eclipse sister commits a ritualistic murder to earn the right to wear that uniform. They are all individually dangerous, and collectively lethal."

"Pleasure doing business with you," Alexis said with a roll of her eyes, accepting the security card and noting how Pitne For's hands shook as he handed it over. Whether from fear of the Eclipse or relief at getting rid of evidence, she couldn't tell.

As they headed toward the nearby elevator that would take them to the Eclipse base, Tali moved up beside her. "Earth-Clan?" she asked quietly, having caught the subtle tension in Alexis's reaction.

"Don't," Alexis muttered. "Just... don't. I get enough of that from bureaucrats and politicians."

"For what it's worth," Tali said softly, "you're Quarian to me. Always have been."

Alexis felt some of the tension leave her shoulders as they approached the elevator. Behind them, Grunt was making disappointed rumbling sounds about not getting to interrogate anyone properly, while Jack observed that poisoning your business partners was actually pretty smart if you could get away with it.

The elevator ascended through the Eclipse base with mechanical precision, each floor indicator bringing them closer to what would undoubtedly be a heavily defended corporate stronghold. Alexis checked her weapons one final time, the familiar weight of her Carnifex pistol a comforting presence at her hip. Behind her, the squad performed their own pre-combat rituals—Garrus calibrating his rifle's scope, Tali running diagnostic checks on her omni-tool, Jack flexing her fingers as biotic energy crackled between them, and Grunt simply standing there like a barely contained avalanche waiting to be unleashed.

The moment the elevator doors began to slide open, Alexis's tactical instincts screamed danger. A LOKI security mech stood in the corridor beyond, its red optical sensors already swiveling toward the elevator car. Most people would have hesitated, tried to take cover, or called out warnings to their squad.

Alexis drew her pistol and fired in one fluid motion.

The heavy rounds from her Carnifex punched through the mech's leg actuator with surgical precision, sending it stumbling as hydraulic fluid sprayed across the polished floor. Before it could compensate or trigger any alarms, her second shot cored through its central processing unit, dropping two kilograms of military-grade tungsten directly into its AI matrix.

The mech collapsed in a shower of sparks and twisted metal, its death throes illuminating the corridor in strobing emergency lighting.

"Right place, perfect entrance," Alexis said with grim satisfaction, holstering her sidearm as she surveyed the corridor beyond. Corporate architecture met military functionality—polished floors and elegant lighting fixtures designed to hide the fact that this was essentially a fortress. "Let's do this. Grunt, after you."

The Krogan's face split into a predatory grin that would have sent most rational beings running for cover. "Finally," he rumbled, cracking his neck with sounds like breaking stone. "Time for some real fun."

Without hesitation, Grunt charged through the next door like a living battering ram. The Eclipse mercenary on the other side—a young Asari in pristine yellow armor who was probably standing guard more for show than from any real expectation of trouble—had just enough time to register surprise before three hundred kilograms of enthusiastic Krogan biology reduced her to component atoms against the far wall.

The squad poured through behind him into what was clearly the base's primary loading dock. Towering shipping containers created a maze of cover and concealment, while overhead cranes and loading mechs provided elevated firing positions for defenders. Emergency klaxons wailed as the base's security systems finally registered the breach, and the distinctive whine of kinetic barriers powering up echoed through the cavernous space.

"Contact front!" Garrus called out, his sniper rifle already tracking targets through the maze of containers. "Multiple Eclipse positions, heavy weapons emplacements on the upper catwalks!"

The firefight that erupted was chaos orchestrated by military precision. Alexis dropped behind a shipping container as mass accelerator rounds sparked off the reinforced metal, while Tali's combat drone deployed to provide flanking fire against entrenched positions. Jack simply laughed with manic glee as she lifted an entire group of Eclipse mercs into the air with biotic force, holding them suspended while Grunt used them for target practice.

"Left flank, two heavies!" Alexis called out, her assault rifle spitting controlled bursts as she moved between cover points. The Eclipse mercenaries were well-trained and well-equipped, but they were fighting a defensive action against opponents who specialized in impossible odds.

Garrus's rifle cracked with metronomic precision, each shot removing a head or center mass with surgical accuracy. "Overwatch positions cleared! Moving to support Grunt!"

The Krogan was in his element, charging directly into concentrated enemy fire with his shotgun roaring. Eclipse mercenaries scattered before his advance like leaves before a hurricane, their careful defensive positions collapsing into panicked retreat.

As they pushed deeper into the loading facility, the sounds of combat began to fade, replaced by the industrial hum of processing equipment and the distant klaxon of emergency alerts. They were making good time, cutting through Eclipse resistance with the efficiency of a team that had learned to fight as a single organism.

It was then that they heard it—a voice from a side corridor, high-pitched with terror and barely coherent through panic.

"Oh, Goddess! Oh, Goddess! Don't let them see me! If they do see me, don't let them kill me!" The voice cracked with hysteria. "What am I doing here? What was I thinking?"

Alexis held up a closed fist, bringing the squad to an immediate halt. They approached the side door with tactical precision—Garrus covering the approach, Tali scanning for additional heat signatures, Jack and Grunt ready to respond to threats.

She stepped into the room with her pistol raised, tactical lights cutting through the dim emergency lighting. In the corner, crouched behind an overturned desk, was an Eclipse mercenary—but something was wrong with the picture.

The Asari wore the distinctive yellow armor of Eclipse forces, but her posture screamed civilian rather than military. When she looked up at Alexis's entrance, her face was streaked with tears and her expression carried the wide-eyed terror of someone completely out of their depth.

"Wait! Stop!" she cried, scrambling to her feet with her hands partially raised. "I didn't fire my weapon once during the fighting! I pretended to shoot because the other Eclipse sisters were watching, but I never actually fired!"

Alexis kept her pistol trained on the young Asari but didn't immediately pull the trigger. There was something fundamentally different about this one—the armor looked new, barely broken in, and her stance suggested someone who'd learned to hold a weapon from an instruction manual rather than combat experience.

"I'm not really one of them!" the merc continued, desperation making her words tumble together. "I'm new—just joined last week! I thought being Elnora the mercenary would be exciting, you know? Adventure, credits, seeing the galaxy..." Her voice broke. "But I didn't know what they were really like! The initiation, the things they make you do..."

Alexis felt her weapon hand waver slightly. How many kids across the galaxy got pulled into organizations like Eclipse because they'd been sold a romanticized vision of mercenary life? How many discovered too late that "adventure" meant murder and extortion?

But then Elnora's eyes shifted, calculating, and her hand began to drift toward her sidearm with the subtle movement of someone trying to appear non-threatening while reaching for a weapon.

Alexis's finger was already tightening on the trigger before her conscious mind registered the threat. The Carnifex barked once, and Elnora crumpled to the deck plating, her unfired weapon clattering away across the metal floor.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the distant sounds of the base's emergency systems. Alexis stared down at the body of someone who might have been genuinely trying to surrender, or might have been playing for time to make a desperate last stand.

"Shit," she said quietly.

"Had to be done," Garrus said from the doorway, his voice carrying the weight of someone who'd made similar calls. "She was going for her weapon."

"I know," Alexis replied, holstering her pistol. "Doesn't make it easier."

"Eclipse recruitment targets desperate kids," Tali observed, her voice uncharacteristically subdued. "Promise them easy money and excitement, then force them through initiation rites that make backing out impossible."

Jack snorted, though her usual venom was muted. "Yeah, well, galaxy's full of bad choices. She made hers."

They left Elnora where she'd fallen and continued deeper into the Eclipse base. But the encounter had cast a shadow over their mission—a reminder that not everyone wearing enemy colors had chosen to be there freely.

The Eclipse base turned out to be a masterclass in defensive architecture designed by someone with a sadistic sense of humor. After clearing the loading docks, they found themselves climbing maintenance stairs to the second level, fighting through heavily fortified positions only to discover that the only way to reach the third level was by crossing back to the opposite end of the facility.

"Seriously?" Alexis panted as they reached another stairwell, her armor's cooling systems working overtime to manage her elevated body temperature. "Who designed this place, someone with a fetish for unnecessary cardio?"

"Corporate security consultants," Garrus replied dryly, reloading his rifle with the mechanical precision of someone who'd been doing it for too many hours straight. "They get paid by the complexity of the defensive layout. More chokepoints, more billable hours."

They'd been fighting for what felt like an eternity—first the corporate tower the night before to recruit Thane, then the Justicar situation, now this extended running battle through a mercenary stronghold. Alexis could feel the accumulated fatigue in her bones, that deep weariness that came from too much adrenaline over too many hours without adequate rest.

"This is worse than that time we had to clear out the Blue Suns facility on Korlus," Tali observed, her environmental suit's medical systems probably tracking stress indicators that would make a medic panic. "At least that one was laid out logically."

"Logic is for people who don't have to worry about return customers," Jack said, though even her usual venom sounded tired around the edges. "Dead clients can't complain about inefficient floor plans."

Grunt, characteristically, seemed energized rather than exhausted by the extended combat. "I like it! More fighting, more targets, more fun!" He paused thoughtfully. "Though I could eat something. All this violence is making me hungry."

"After we're done here, we're all getting twenty-four hours of rack time," Alexis declared as they climbed yet another stairwell, her legs protesting each step. "No missions, no crises, no galaxy-threatening emergencies. Just sleep."

"You know that's not how our lives work," Garrus pointed out with the resigned wisdom of someone who'd learned not to plan too far ahead.

"A girl can dream," Alexis muttered.

The third level proved to be another maze of defensive positions and kill zones, forcing them to leapfrog between cover points while Eclipse mercenaries poured concentrated fire at their positions. The enemy was getting more desperate as they pushed deeper into the base, which made them both more dangerous and more prone to tactical mistakes.

"Movement left!" Tali called out, her omni-tool tracking heat signatures through the facility's environmental systems. "Three more coming up the auxiliary lift!"

"I've got them," Garrus confirmed, his rifle already tracking to intercept. Three precise shots echoed through the corridor, followed by the wet thuds of bodies hitting deck plating. "Clear."

They fought their way across the level with the grim efficiency of veterans who'd learned to conserve energy for the fights that mattered. No unnecessary heroics, no wasted ammunition—just professional violence applied with surgical precision.

Finally, they reached what appeared to be the facility's primary operations center—a large open area with floor-to-ceiling transparisteel windows that looked out over Nos Astra's sprawling cityscape. The rising sun blazed directly through the windows, turning the space into a brilliant orange cathedral of light and shadow.

It would have been beautiful if it hadn't been filled with Eclipse mercenaries trying to kill them.

"Contact front!" Alexis called out as the squad spread into defensive positions. "Multiple hostiles, heavy weapons—"

Her warning was cut off by the thunderous roar of engines as an Eclipse gunship rose into view beyond the windows, its weapon systems already spinning up to combat readiness. The military-grade aircraft was a nasty piece of work—armored, heavily armed, and positioned where it could bring devastating firepower to bear on anyone trying to hold the operations center.

"Oh, come on!" Alexis snarled as the gunship's mass accelerator cannons opened fire, sending hypervelocity rounds crashing through the transparisteel in explosions of crystalline fragments. "This day just keeps getting better!"

She dove behind a reinforced control console as cannon rounds chewed through the space where she'd been standing, her mind automatically cataloging tactical options. The gunship was too well armored for small arms fire, too maneuverable for grenades, and positioned where it could dominate the entire engagement area.

"I really should have brought the Widow," she muttered, thinking of the anti-materiel sniper rifle currently secured in the Normandy's armory. The massive weapon could have punched through the gunship's armor with contemptuous ease, but hindsight was always perfect.

"Bit late for that!" Garrus shouted over the sound of incoming fire, his position behind a structural support beam offering minimal protection from the aircraft's weapons. "Any brilliant tactical insights?"

The Eclipse ground forces were using the gunship's suppressing fire to advance on their positions, making the situation exponentially worse. Caught between anvil and hammer, with nowhere to retreat and insufficient firepower to punch through the gunship's defenses.

That's when Jack spotted the game-changer.

"Eclipse heavy, two o'clock!" she called out, her voice cutting through the chaos with practiced clarity. "Rocket launcher!"

Alexis followed Jack's targeting and spotted the Eclipse mercenary setting up what appeared to be a shoulder-fired anti-vehicle missile system on an elevated platform. The weapon could probably punch through their cover with ease, but it also represented an opportunity if they could capture it.

"Garrus, take the shot!" Alexis ordered.

The turian's rifle cracked with perfect timing, sending a tungsten core round through the Eclipse merc's center mass just as she was bringing the launcher to bear. The mercenary dropped, but the weapon remained intact on its platform.

"Tali, you're closest!" Alexis called out. "Can you reach that launcher?"

"On it!" Tali replied, already moving. She sprinted toward a stack of shipping containers that offered partial cover from the gunship's fire, her environmental suit's servos whining as she pushed her equipment to its operational limits.

Grunt, seeing her intent, positioned himself at the base of the containers with his massive hands interlocked. "Jump!" he roared over the gunfire.

Without hesitation, Tali hit his improvised boost at a dead run, her slight frame launched upward with Krogan-powered enthusiasm. She caught the edge of the platform and hauled herself up with the desperate strength of someone who knew that failure meant getting shot by a gunship.

The rocket launcher was an Eclipse military model—heavy, sophisticated, and loaded with armor-piercing warheads designed for exactly this kind of engagement. Tali hefted the weapon with some difficulty, her environmental suit's strength enhancement servos compensating for the launcher's considerable mass.

"Target acquired!" she called out, bringing the weapon to bear on the gunship. "Firing!"

The rocket streaked across the engagement area in a trail of brilliant fire, impacting directly on the gunship's port missile pod. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen—then secondary explosions began rippling through the aircraft's weapon systems as its own ordnance cooked off in a chain reaction of destruction.

The gunship lurched to one side as its pilot fought for control, but the damage was too extensive. With a final, spectacular explosion that lit up the morning sky, the aircraft slammed into the side of the docking platform and erupted in a fireball that sent debris raining down across the operations center.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Grunt bellowed with obvious satisfaction, while the remaining Eclipse ground forces suddenly found themselves without air support and facing very annoyed Normandy crew members.

The rest of the engagement was academic—demoralized mercenaries against a squad that had just demonstrated their ability to down military aircraft with improvised tactics. Within minutes, the operations center was secure.

"Remind me to put Tali in for a marksmanship commendation," Alexis said as they surveyed the wreckage, her voice hoarse with exhaustion. "Nice shooting."

"I was just trying not to get killed by the explosion," Tali replied, though Alexis could hear the pleased exhaustion in her voice. "Keelah, I need a nap."

"We all do," Garrus agreed, slumping against a wall with the boneless fatigue of someone who'd been running on adrenaline and stimulants for too long. "But first, we still need to find whatever information Samara needs."

"Right," Alexis sighed, looking around at the smoke-filled operations center. "Because nothing about this day has been simple yet. Why start now?"

The small storage room attached to the operations center was a cramped space filled with maintenance equipment and administrative clutter—the kind of utilitarian area that existed in every corporate facility but never appeared on the promotional holovids. Emergency lighting cast harsh shadows across stacks of spare parts and cleaning supplies, while the acrid smell of smoke from the gunship explosion drifted through the ventilation system.

Tali was already at work before the rest of the squad had fully entered, her omni-tool interfacing with a data terminal that looked like it hadn't been updated since the Rachni Wars. "Definitely some interesting financial records here," she said, her voice carrying the satisfaction of someone who'd found exactly the kind of evidence that made investigators happy.

She pulled up a shipping manifest on her omni-tool's display, the holographic text scrolling past in neat columns of cargo descriptions and transaction codes. "Looks like our friend Pitne For sold two thousand units of Minagen X3 to the Eclipse," she announced, downloading the data for later analysis. "Along with six hundred units of Red Sand."

"That's quite the pharmaceutical operation," Garrus observed, leaning over to examine the manifest. "Minagen X3 is a military-grade combat stimulant—highly illegal for civilian distribution. And Red Sand..." He shook his head with professional disgust. "That's pure poison. Highly addictive, neurologically destructive, and completely unregulated."

"This isn't what we came here looking for," Alexis said, rubbing her tired eyes, "but it does prove that our Volus friend is running a lot more than legitimate cargo operations."

"Detective Anaya will definitely want to see this," Tali agreed, securing the data in her omni-tool's encrypted storage. "Should be enough evidence to put Pitne For away for a very long time, assuming he survives whatever the Eclipse has planned for him."

They moved out of the storage room into the next corridor, a narrow maintenance hallway that connected the operations center to what appeared to be the facility's primary data core. The walls here were lined with environmental control systems and power conduits, creating a maze of pipes and cables that would have made for excellent ambush positions if there had been anyone left to man them.

At the end of the hallway, near what appeared to be a break room complete with vending machines and recreational seating, they spotted a figure in an environmental suit standing with their back to them.

The Volus was clearly oblivious to their presence, focused entirely on what appeared to be an intense philosophical discussion with a snack dispenser. When they turned around, probably to head back the way they'd come, they walked directly into Alexis and bounced backward with a startled wheeze.

But instead of fear or surprise, the Volus's posture radiated an aura of grandiose confidence that was immediately recognizable to anyone who'd encountered people under the influence of powerful stimulants.

"I am a biotic god!" the Volus declared, their voice carrying the kind of megalomaniacal certainty usually reserved for religious zealots and drug addicts. Dark energy crackled around their environmental suit's manipulator arms in unstable patterns. "I think things and they happen! Fear me, lesser creatures, for I am biotics made flesh!"

Alexis felt her remaining patience evaporate like moisture in a desert. After fighting through an entire mercenary base, watching a Justicar execute people with her boot, and dealing with corrupt Volus merchants, encountering a drugged-out "biotic god" felt like the universe's idea of a practical joke.

"You are out of your mind on drugs is what you are," she said with a long-suffering sigh that carried the weight of someone who'd seen too much absurdity for one day.

"You will regret your scandalous words!" the Volus continued, gesturing wildly as biotic energy sparked unpredictably around their suit. "I am the great wind that will sweep all before me like a... a great wind! A great biotic wind! Yes!" Their voice took on a trembling quality as memory intruded on their chemical euphoria. "The Asari injecting so many drugs into me was terrifying at first. But then I began to smell my own greatness! They may laugh when I fall over, but they don't know what I know in my head—that I know that I am amazingly powerful! Fear me!"

During this entire rant, Alexis found herself making eye contact with her squad members in a series of increasingly bewildered exchanges. Garrus had one mandible raised in what she'd learned to recognize as his expression for 'is this actually happening?' Tali's helmet was tilted in a way that suggested she was questioning everything she thought she knew about the universe. Jack just looked like she was watching the galaxy's most pathetic entertainment program, while Grunt seemed genuinely fascinated by the display of chemical-induced confidence.

When the Volus finally paused for breath, Alexis decided to take the path of least resistance. "Why don't you lie down right here, and then you can show off your powers when you're fully rested?" she suggested with the careful tone usually reserved for addressing small children, high command and government officials.

The Volus considered this proposition with the grave seriousness of someone whose brain chemistry had been thoroughly scrambled by military-grade stimulants. After several seconds of visible contemplation, they nodded sagely and carefully lowered themselves to the floor in the corner of the hallway, apparently content to commune with their chemical enlightenment in horizontal comfort.

"Well," Garrus said quietly as they stepped around the prone figure, "that's definitely going in my report under 'miscellaneous weird encounters.'"

"I'm starting to think Illium's water supply might be contaminated," Tali observed. "Between corrupt politicians, murderous mercs, and biotic gods, this place has everything."

"Just another day in paradise," Jack muttered, though Alexis caught what might have been amusement in her voice.

At the end of the next corridor lay what appeared to be the facility's primary cargo bay—a large space dominated by shipping containers and loading equipment. But unlike the previous areas they'd cleared, this one still had an occupant.

An Asari in distinctive purple armor stood at the far end of the bay, her posture radiating the kind of controlled fury that usually preceded spectacular violence. She was drinking something from a glass while reading a data pad, pacing back and forth with the nervous energy of someone under extreme stress.

"Everything's gone to hell since we smuggled that filthy creature off-world," she said, her voice carrying clearly across the cargo bay as she drained her glass in one swift motion. The sound of breaking glass echoed as she hurled the empty container against a shipping container. "First a Justicar shows up asking uncomfortable questions, and now you!"

She turned toward them with the fluid grace of someone who'd spent years perfecting the art of combat, her eyes blazing with the kind of fanatic determination that made Eclipse mercenaries so dangerous.

"At least I can take some pleasure in turning your heads into pulpy messes!" she screamed, dark energy erupting around her as she lifted an entire shipping container with biotic force and hurled it at the squad.

The fight that followed was significantly more challenging than their previous encounters. This Eclipse captain—and her armor's rank insignia confirmed her leadership status—was equipped with military-grade equipment and possessed the kind of biotic capabilities that could level city blocks. Her purple armor was clearly custom-fitted and heavily reinforced, designed to withstand the kind of punishment that would reduce standard mercenary gear to scrap metal.

But she was also fighting alone against five battle-tested veterans who'd learned to function as a single organism, and the outcome was never really in doubt. When Eclipse reinforcements arrived through the cargo bay's secondary entrances, they found themselves caught in crossfire from opponents who'd already established dominant positions.

The engagement lasted perhaps three minutes before the last Eclipse mercenary fell, leaving only the smell of ozone and the distant sounds of the facility's emergency systems.

"Tali, get on that console," Alexis ordered, gesturing toward the terminal the captain had been using. "Let's find what we came here for and get out of this place."

Tali's omni-tool interfaced with the Eclipse systems with practiced efficiency, cutting through security protocols that would have stymied civilian hackers. "Got it!" she announced after several tense seconds. "The ship was the AML Demeter—civilian transport registered out of the Terminus Systems."

"Perfect," Alexis said, feeling the satisfaction of a mission finally reaching successful completion. "Let's get back to the police station. I want to collect our Justicar and get off this corporate nightmare of a planet."

As they headed back toward the facility's exit, stepping over the bodies of Eclipse mercenaries and around the still-prone form of the "biotic god," Alexis reflected that Illium had definitely earned a place on her list of worlds she never wanted to visit again.

Some days, saving the galaxy felt like a full-time job with really terrible working conditions.

Notes:

I have decided to create a discord/rework my old server that never saw use into something as a central point for my writings if anyone is interested. Will be my wild rambles, WIP's, sneak peeks and a place for other writers to come and share their thoughts and works - link here