Teasers

“We have literally one thing going for us right now.”
“And that is?”
“I’m a better pilot than her. So strap in and hang onto your hats, folks, because I’m not holding back on this one.”
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"Mister Moreau has a significant record of stealing ships."
"Significant successful record, EDI. Successful." 
"Spirits preserve us all."
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The sounds of a scuffle: curse words, grunts, yells, then— thud. A bone-jarring impact, even through the comm. Silence. At last: “Brother,” she said, breathing heavily, “say the word and I paint the wall with him.” 
“Descriptive, Sol,” he replied, “and highly tempting... but no. We do this her way.”
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“2177 to 2178. Illium. You had a girl. Do you remember her?" 
He laughed, a soft laugh that set your teeth on edge. "The little Alliance girl. I remember her. I liked her." 
The chair rocked back from the force of the slap. "Do you know who she was?" 
He spat blood onto the floor between them and looked up, one amber eye to two white sapphires. "I'd be an idiot not to," he replied. 
He moved in again, hand raised, but— 
“This isn’t going to get you what you want,” came her voice, so, so very weak.
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"Is that... what I look like? To you? In here?" 
"Affirmative, Shepard-Commander."
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"I just ... I need a walk." 
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" 
She paused a few steps from the door; a few sparks ran through her hair and down her left arm. "I'm pretty sure I can handle myself," she said, then half-turned, looking at him over her shoulder: for some reason, he couldn't make out her eyes. "And besides," she began, "do you really think anyone's going to stop me?" A heartbeat. "Are you?" 
She walked out without another word, and as the door slid shut and locked behind her, he argued with himself. Follow her? Let her go? ... Follow her. Call Kahlee, then follow. 
Don't even think about it, came Shepard's voice in his ear. 
He startled: that wasn't a comm channel, but the door was still closed… "Shepard?" he said aloud, looking around. "Are you—“ 
Everything went black.
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"Hannah... please."
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“This is it...” She trailed off, was silent for a long moment. “Don’t follow me.” 
The comm channel went dead. Joker looked over his shoulder. “We’re following her, right?” His captain stood and stared out the viewscreen, a hand on his daughter’s shoulder, and said nothing. “... Right?”
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The note attached to the video clip read only, "I'm so sorry. - H" Hannah Shepard closed her workstation, locked the door to her office, laid her head down on her desk, and wept.
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Aelianus tried to smile. “Look— we match.” 
“Oh Spirits, Dad, that is not funny.”
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"I know three people in the galaxy who could have made a shot like that, and two of them are standing in front of me."
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“And in true Normandy fashion, are you going to proceed regardless of my response?” 
“More than likely, sir.” 
“Good luck and Godspeed, Captain Vakarian.”
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“Jeff, wake up.” He shifted and turned to her, but didn't open his eyes. 
“What is it, EDI?” he asked, half-asleep. 
“I have lost connection to the Normandy.”
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“Commander, my baby isn’t supposed to move like that— Jesus fuck!” He threw the Austerlitz into a sharp side roll, spinning her twice before firing the back thrusters hard and swinging under a particularly nasty-looking asteroid, making everyone on the ship remember their g-force training... less than fondly.
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“I always knew you’d make a fine Spectre. Probably one of the best.” 
“Then why did you tell me I should turn it down?” 
“Well, I do still disagree with the whole concept, my opinion hasn’t really changed." He smiled slightly, then turned serious. "But more to the point… I already had one child working in slightly extra-legal special operations. I worried about Solana every day— I still do. There was a part of me, I’ll admit, that thought that if you were at C-Sec, somehow you’d be safer.” He exhaled, puffing out his mandibles. “Silly of me, I know.”
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"Okay, so, I thought I'd kiss a Reaper sooner than I’d say this, but: you need to talk to Conrad Verner."
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He leaned his forehead against the bulkhead, his heart sinking. If even he couldn't convince her... 
A rustling. Joker spoke. "H-hey kiddo, ow, what—” 
He opened his eyes. Viatrix was standing on Joker's lap and leaning up towards the interface, the pilot steadying her with one hand. Her little voice piped up. “Ma’ai… is læ timet.” She wobbled, and Jeff caught her with his other hand. “Mama,” she said, speaking haltingly, “I love you. Want mama come home.”
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"We want our seat on the Council," Kashek rasped. "You offered one, now we are accepting." 
"Ah, well, yes, I suppose we did," Tevos said, clearly feeling somewhat unsure of her footing. 
"Why now?" Balak asked curtly. 
"You need resources," he responded. "We get you resources from places you cannot go. You need us." 
"He's not wrong," Shepard said, leaning back in her chair, rather enjoying the show. 
"What about your kin?" Sparatus asked, ever the pragmatic one. "You're rather well-known for... disagreeing with each other." 
"Fuck them," Kashek said, with a shrug. "Smart ones fall in line. Idiots die. Everybody wins." 
A few skeptical glances flitted across the table.
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"You son of a bitch," she said, voice breaking, "I've been looking for you for a week, where the fuck do you get off disappearing into thin air?" 
He stepped away from the wall and met her halfway, gauntleted hands on either side of her face, catching in her hair and knocking her visor askew, but she didn't care in the slightest. His eyes sought and held her gaze, those piercing blue eyes that left nothing unseen, and she knew he was trying to decide if he could believe this. "Where the fuck do you get off pretending to get spaced?" he shot back, and she heard the hurt in his voice. "You've been looking for me for a week? I've been looking for you for two years. I listened to you die, Shepard. And now you just waltz in here like nothing happened? No, Shepard. Not a fucking chance. You don't get to shatter my heart like that without a good goddamned reason, and the bar is damn high. So start talking, and you can start with why the fuck you thought it was okay to fake your own death." 
"I didn't," she said, struggling not to feel like the world was crumbling around her. She brought her hands up to his and held them. "I didn't, Garrus, I swear."
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“Garrus,” his comm crackles in his ear. 
He startles in his seat in the escape pod. “Shepard. Thank the Spirits. Where are you and—“ 
“I love you,” she says, and he finally recognizes the crackle for what it is: her breathing. “I’m so sorry. Please...” She gasps; he can’t breathe, either. “Take care of them.” Another gasp, and this one rattles. “I love you.” 
“I love you too,” he says, because he has to hope she hears it— and then there’s silence. “Shepard,” he finally whispers, “are you still there? Come in... please.” Nothing but static. 
His heart shatters.
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"... I know your name now. I don't know how I know it, but I do." 
"Ah. One of the many perils of being subsumed into a consciousness greater than one's own." 
"Why don't you use it?" 
"Names have power, Shepard. You needn't look any further than yours to see that."
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"You know I wouldn't come to you unless it was my absolute last resort," Balak said, just shy of spitting it. If you knew batarian body language - and his conversational partner certainly did - you would know that the disdain Ka'hairal Balak felt for this man rivalled, if not exceeded, that which he felt for Commander Shepard. (Or, at least, that which he had felt. He still wasn't ready to admit that he had anything approaching goodwill for the woman, but he would - begrudgingly - admit to respect.) "I know what happens to people who ask you favours. I'm not an idiot." 
"No," he replied, "just an honest, hardworking man trying to resurrect an entire civilization. I'm honoured, Ka'hairal. Honoured." 
"Like hell you are." 
The other man just smiled.
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“…Can she see us?” Tali asked nervously. 
Garrus waved his hand over Shepard’s open eyes. “I don’t think so. Or at least she can’t show us if she does.” 
“Nothing’s happening,” Shio’Leth said. “Should something be happening?” 
“Hell if I know,” he replied. 
From far-off came the sound of something powering on. The team looked at each other, then around the room, then they fanned out around Shepard’s alcove, weapons at the ready. In moments, the hum of running machinery rose up all around them, and a light shone behind them: turning around, they found that Shepard’s eyes were glowing, as were the capacitor nodes, bright enough to be seen through her clothing. Then they heard movement, the sounds of metallic clanking, and they swivelled back around to watch the exits. Nothing more changed for thirty seconds, sixty… ninety… then Tali gasped, “Keelah!” at the same time as Garrus exclaimed, “Spirits—“ and they turned as one to find the source of whatever had brushed their arms…and found Shepard surrounded by seven unmoving geth, all facing out, pulse rifles in their hands. 
“Uh, guys?” James said, “this is getting really fucking creepy.”
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“Shepard, I—” he began, but she reached up and put her finger to his mouth. “No arguing,” she said, voice rough. “I know I just said you’re in charge, but this one’s an order, Vakarian. This one’s an order.” She laughed, but it was really a sob, and he gathered her into his arms and held her close.
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Vi interrupted her brooding by waving happily over Shepard’s shoulder. She turned to look, wondering who could be the cause of such excitement – it wasn’t Garrus, that was a different kind of excitement – and she was quite surprised to see Javik standing in the corridor, looking equally nonplussed. Flustered, even. “Good afternoon, Javik,” Shepard said. “I think she likes you.” 
“The child does not seem particular in her dispersal of affections,” he said, mildly supercilious – in the tone that Shepard had come to associate with I am terribly uncomfortable and have no idea what to do in this situation, but the last vestige of the Prothean Empire must maintain perfect dignity at all times. “I am a novelty, nothing more.”
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“And I’ll keep you updated,” Nyrius said, mandibles back to their vice grip against her jaw. “Celtva šese£rreli na viašnat.” [“May the Spirits speed you on your path."] 
“Si coerqvaqe væcirqet kve kait’a,” he replied. [“And may they stay their sword until I arrive."]
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“No eyes on Solitude yet, Amanuen,” came the reply. “Do you have an ETA on Sword, Star, and Spark, ma’am?” 
“They’re leaving the Citadel now.” 
“I’ll have their detail to the airfield by 1700 hours. Anything else you need from me, ma’am?” 
“That’ll be all, Agent Severil.”
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"Garrus," came her soft voice, the voice she only ever used with him, and he knit his brows in sadness. Of course he'd hear her as he died. She'd heard him when she died, it was only right... "Are you awake?" she said, so very gently, and he felt something brush over the back of his hand. Her thumb, that was what it was. "Are you in pain?" she continued, and then she slowly drew the backs of her fingers over the left side of his forehead and down his cheekbone. "Karin said I could give you more painkillers if you needed them." 
... This was beginning to seem an awful lot more like the Normandy's medbay than dying.
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“This is the same section of Garrus’ genome,” Chakwas said, as sections highlighted themselves, “and this shows the genes that are identical between the two sections.” 
“Okay…” Shepard frowned. “I’m still lost. Of course there are identical genes. He’s her father. She looks like a tiny little female version of him, I’ve seen the baby pictures.”
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“Well someone said I had to take painkillers this morning, I was ready to go without but no… who are you, my mother?” 
He snorted. “Pardon me for looking out for your well-being. Now where the hell am I going?”
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Garrus was through before it had fully opened, bringing Shepard with him – she barely had time to whisper a heartfelt thank you before she too was in the room, and turning to see what had ratcheted her mate’s subvocals up yet again. 
Oh. Yes. That would do it.
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"Admiral Shepard, we didn't know you were coming, is everything--" 
"Get everyone off the ship."