It was a beautiful day.

Above, the sun was lording over a cloudless sky, baking the brown cliffs covering the horizon in all visible directions with its heat as winds brushed against them, caressing them with little whirlwinds of purple pollen that shimmered when they caught the light. Below the cliffs, the sea glittered like a pool of sapphires as it reflected the warm sun.

Yet the house atop the ridge was cool.

Built of dark wood – a luxury for Quarians until they'd reclaimed Rannoch – it was a one-storey structure. Yet it was large, using up far more space than anyone born on the Flotilla could ever need...but space was a luxury everyone could afford now. Inside, there were few walls, instead most 'rooms' were simply separated by drapes in purple and orange, the very same ones that had been aboard the Rayya, a reminder of more innocent times.

It was a dream unfulfilled, and a monument more personal than the ones that had been erected to a single man's honour on dozens of worlds, a private side that no public were allowed to see, or if they did, couldn't comprehend.

The house's balcony was equally cool, the ceiling covered in purple ivy letting but a pink echo of sunlight through and the breeze cooling the lone sentinel standing under the pink shadow, silently leaning against the bannister and gazing across the sea.

Tali was dressed in the popular Quarian fashion, a complex weave of veils in different shades of purple that held a loose fit, covering her chest and hips, but little else...like most, she had taken to devouring the feel of the world on her skin, of freedom.

At least she wore such garb when on Rannoch, which wasn't often.

The house behind her was silent, no adopted children or dogs making sounds, no friends coming to celebrate the birthday of a dead man...though they no doubt did so wherever they were, quietly, not the loud holiday a every galactic species – save the ever-bitter Batarians, or rather, what was left of them – held to celebrate their saviour.

Yet Tali's thoughts wasn't on that, or if it was, she wasn't about to admit it to herself.

Nor on what she was watching, the building of gleaming steel far away that would become a power-plant – it looked like a waterfall as it connected to the sea and ran up the cliff, the top yet not finished by the diligent Geth workers – representing how Liara hadn't been completely correct with her predictions.

For while the beam had killed Michael – and if it hadn't, the destruction of the Citadel surely had – and had killed what parts of EDI still lingered on the Normandy, it hadn't quite eradicated the Geth.

When struck, they had gone offline for a full ten seconds – an eternity for an AI – but then they'd come back as they loaded up old data and old code, re-setting...becoming what they had once been. They hadn't sought vengeance for their loss though, for that would require a thirst for revenge. They had instead understood Michael's difficulty, and forgiven him, though if they were capable of such a thing in their current state, Tali was unsure. What she did understand was how they had chosen to focus on rebuilding, to regain what had been lost in the battle for Earth...to become what they had once been...it had been an inspiration to many in the wake of the devastating war.

More so, how the Quarians had let them do that. For with the Reaper code gone, the Geth were just as vulnerable as they had been before to the Quarian's super-weapon designed for them...and their organic allies had chosen not to deploy it. Instead, they had continued with the Geth's old suggestion with rebuilding together, to form a joint existence...the wounds of the old war had been healed by the new, forging a closer bond between creator and created than ever before.

That was part of what dwelt on Tali's mind, the current state of the galaxy.

And since she had spent two years as the joint Quarian-Geth representative on the Council – that was before she had resigned, before she had been, in her own mind, promoted – Tali had more than a good insight into the current political situation as well as what the future held.

For the war had left devastation and opportunity in equal amounts, the dead leaving room for the living, as well as new bonds and new tensions, waning powers struggling against growing ones.

Perish the thought we'd learn to live in harmony after our brush with annihilation...

She had thought that many times, but by now it was less an angry grumble and more of a dejected sigh. She had come to accept the galaxy as it was, she was no Michael to change the stars...but she wasn't about to dishonour his memory by not trying.

The dead were even still, three years after the war, being totalled, the destruction as well...yet some estimates could be made.

In the aftermath of the complete destruction of the Hegemony and most of the Terminus warlords with their entourages, the Batarians had become even more insular than before, but that was mere loose groups of people now, vainly trying to keep the species existing. And those who had survived were mostly soldiers and mercenaries still performing their profession, which would probably lead to the end of their species in but two generations.

The Hanar and Drell would be joining the Batarians in oblivion, both species too low on members after the burning of their worlds, and the Elcor had become completely extinct save for three elderly women.

Humanity was a different beast however, one of contradictions. For while Michael's meticulous preparations for the allied counter-attack had left the species to bear the brunt of the Reaper harvest – the butcher's bill was the entire population of Earth as well as two thirds of all human colonists, leaving a pitiful ten percent of their entire species alive – their species had a bizarre tendency to breed while in a crisis, and those that had survived the war were exponentially growing in numbers. Not only that, but with the Batarians and most of the Terminus warlords gone, the Alliance had nearly half a galaxy to colonise and expand upon with their ever growing numbers...and in contrast to the Krogan before, the Humans had the Council's blessing in doing so, both to lend those areas stability, but also due to all the goodwill Michael and the Alliance had built up during the war.

It would take time, but Humanity's future looked surprisingly bright.

Until they grow too strong. Tali shook the thought aside. That was too far in the future for her to consider with so many more pressing threats to attend to...and it also made her feel weary...old. We all aged after the battle...

Not only the Human future looked bright, so did the Quarian-Geth and Volus' future. Both had, via their contributions to the war, joined the Citadel Council, and with the Asari economy in shambles after the loss of the eezo-rich Thessia, the Volus were the uncontested kings of wealth and were vital in the rebuilding of galactic civilization. The Quarians and Geth were second to them though, their cooperation having triggered an economic boom as lost worlds were reclaimed and synthetic workers, with Quarian allies, tirelessly worked on rebuilding not only their own lands, but those of other races.

The light of the Turians had dimmed in the aftermath of the war, but it had not gone out. They had held Palaven against the Reapers, a source of fierce pride for them, and despite heavy losses. The Turians were nothing if not disciplined, and were rebuilding all that had been lost a piece at a time. Even with the war following the end of the Reapers, they were growing.

The Asari were a different story. With Thessia destroyed, they had not only lost vast numbers of people – for all that had fled their colonies had gone there – but also their greatest source of wealth. The Reapers had made the planet completely barren and useless, even going so far as burning up the eezo out of spite. Yet the Asari had somehow risen past that, stronger...the loss of their homeworld might have destroyed what once made them great, but the wound of such loss had struck deep into every Asari...and changed them accordingly.

It was a harder Asari Tali had met in the council, a more demanding Asari, less play on words, more action. The Asari were diverging, no longer becoming mercenaries or dancers while young but instead diving into science right away – no doubt inspired by the oh so wonderful Doctor T'soni – or becoming engineers and workers, jobs they'd previously scorned. Their fleet was expanding, and while their combat doctrine hadn't changed, the sheer numbers of their commandos was swelling to a never before seen strength.

In a way, losing Thessia had gained them something else, something more intangible, a drive.

That was seen in the new Citadel. In honour of those lost, the Asari had been the ones suggesting it was built over Earth, and were the ones who funded the work the most, despite their unstable economy. Some had hoped the planet it was to orbit to be salvageable, but in the end the trauma had been too much, and the crust split, spilling magma and smoke over the world, turning Earth into a crimson wound to mark the aftermath of the Reaper war.

Yet the new Citadel, while smaller and less advanced than the one that lay broken on Earth, was growing, beautiful...and most importantly...their Citadel. Not a remnant of the Protheans, or a tool of the Reapers...theirs...the Geth in particular seemed to appreciate the distinction.

As such, the new orbited the old, a show of defiant spirit in the face of the destruction wrought on them all...a reminder of what was lost, as well as what was gained.

Not all was great, however.

The Krogan, when the failure of the Genophage cure became apparent, began a second rebellion at the behest of Wreav. If the lack of the cure was the reason, or if, people argued, the battle-hungry Wreav would have waged war with some other excuse anyway, the fact was that the war began a mere year following the wake of the Battle for Earth. They had hit spaceports all over the galaxy, gaining enough ships to make for an initial offensive against races still reeling from the Reaper war...a sickness in the wound of the galaxy.

In the end though, the Krogan could never win. Wreav was now dead at the hands of Asari commandos, and between their, the Turian, Quarian and Geth fleet, the Krogan ships had been destroyed and their few conquered worlds put under siege. With the Genophage in place, the rebellion had been doomed from the start, and the Krogan-conquered worlds had been cleansed one by one until Tuchanka itself was being targeted.

Yet the Krogan wouldn't surrender. Men, women and even what few children they had, all were throwing themselves into the battle. It was suicide through war, as some glumly had called it as the noose slowly tightened on the Krogan race.

Tali grieved for that blemish upon Michael's legacy, on the way it had worn on his best friend, the newly-chosen Primarch forced to bring guns to bear on children and complete a genocide over a millennia in the making.

Garrus hasn't been the same since then, he doesn't speak of Michael with as much warmth as he once did...strange how time and pain can erode something so beautiful when there's no love to rebuild it anymore. Tali felt a little sigh escape her. Not that I can be sure, I haven't seen him for ages, duty, always duty...

The war wasn't her concern though. It was the work of a sledgehammer, crushing the last resistance.

Her job was that of a scalpel's.

The Salarians...

Their core worlds untouched, most of their fleet intact, the Salarians were a far stronger force compared to before. The revelation of their hand in the false Genophage, as well as their attempted retreat during the battle for Earth, had left a sour note in all diplomatic relationships with them and the rest of the Council races. And the constant arguments of who was to aid how much in rebuilding when the Salarians now had so much compared to others, yet had so little in need of rebuilding, didn't help the situation either.

The Dalatrass is treading dangerous territory, being so isolationistic...

The Salarians didn't even aid in the war with the Krogan, content to point at how right they were to sabotage the cure in the first place...which flamed the ire of the Turians in particular with their history of the old rebellion and how they now had to serve in the frontlines of the second.

Tensions were rising, and Tali wasn't about to debate it away.

That was why she'd stepped down as Admiral to rebuild her homeworld, and as Councillor to sit in meetings...she was a Quarian at heart, more so than most of her kin, most would say, and Quarians migrated. Sitting in Council was not her forte, and any peace she might have found with the ghosts of those lost in gaining Rannoch had died with Michael.

Rannoch wasn't home, the new Citadel wasn't home.

Behind her, there was a tapping noise, light feet padding over wooden floors...and then stopping. The voice speaking up behind Tali was as familiar as it was gentle. "Spectre, I bring news."

"It's just Tali to you, EDI." Tali chided with a smile, turning to face the AI. She knew the protest wouldn't help, EDI liked teasing her about the title...but stopping would be to admit the defeat.

"As you say." EDI replied with a slight bow of her head. As always, there was a gentle smile on the machine's face, gentle, but sad...it had been there ever since Earth, when the AI had lost part of herself.

Wonder if I have the same sort of smile? Tali suspected she did, but was surprisingly okay with it, there was a comfort in lingering grief.

Yet EDI's smile at least turned genuine when around Joker, Tali had none like that.

She found her smile fading, and instead opted to cross her arms over her chest, turning to the task at hand. "What news?"

"Your spy-progams have verified your suspicions." EDI replied, making Tali close her eyes and rub the base of her nose in frustration. "The Salarians have a research facility on Olor where they are trying to adapt and train Yagh into pawns that could be deployed against anyone in their way while they deny all knowledge."

"So forcing them through legal means to shut down the one on Sur'Kesh didn't help, how surprising." Tali snorted, squeezing her eyes tighter as she once more went over the alternatives, already knowing what she would have to do. She still remembered the old Shadow Broker, how terrifying and cunning he'd been...and didn't relish the thought of more coming into the world. The new one's bad enough... Tali could probably have asked Liara and gotten the intel right away...but she preferred not to deal with the Asari, their relationship having grown more and more cold...not to mention that Tali suspected Liara had been the one leaking the Salarian's involvement in the sabotaged Genophage cure. Morally, it was righteous, but it had been far more practical to blame it all on a dead man, however much Tali loved him...she liked to think Michael would have agreed. Blame unburied was blame creating conflict. "Didn't they learn anything from the Krogan?"

"I believe the answer to that is obvious." EDI replied evenly, making Tali sigh. Once, you would have made a joke...now it's only with Joker...

The war had left marks everywhere, it seemed.

"Tali?" The AI asked, hesitant. "Should we bring this data to the Council?"

Silence.

Then Tali sighed, opening her eyes and looking back at EDI. "No." She grimaced. So this is what Michael used to feel... She still wasn't used to it. "Olor is sparsely populated, right? No space-ships allowed to remain upon the surface?" She knew the answer, she had studied the planet in case...well...knowing what would happen.

"Yes."

"Then I believe it's time to show the Dalatrass a taste of what happens when you play with fire." Tali sighed, it would feel good to put the woman in her place, but Tali didn't relish the destruction and death needed for it. Michael, I'm not as strong as you, but I'll try...I can only do that. "I will not allow a Yagh rebellion to sweep the galaxy, but a small insurrection to show what they're capable of...that'll do." Tali nodded to herself. "Drones for recording, keep any feeds they have going...decryption keys for the Yagh cells, that ought to do it." A snort. "If I'm lucky, I won't even have to fire my gun."

"You seldom are." EDI replied, the soft smile remaining.

Tali chuckled at that, turning her head, gazing out over the sparkling sea beneath...and smiled. I'll make it worth it, like you, I'll make the best out of what we have... "No, I guess not."

Silence.

Tali took a deep breath, taking in the fresh air, unfiltered by any mask.

I'm going to miss Rannoch...but this is not my home.

When Tali looked back, she was grinning.

"Tell Joker to ready the Normandy."

8

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Thanks to Abydos Jackson for all she's done for me and all she will do, I hope it never ends.

Both me and Abydos would like to thank everyone that has read and, in particular, reviewed this story and perhaps evenhave followed us from the first one in this series, it has been a real pleasure.