I'm SO sorry for the delay on this. I've been super busy. But anyway, here you go! Thanks to everyone for giving it a shot.

I am reeling.

I stare at the dark spot where the image of Fiera Valois had stood only moments before, unblinking.

Thalia P. Kendris doesn't exist.

My father doesn't exist. But then, that's not true, because someone had to have fathered me, right? As far as I know, no asari has ever reproduced on her own. Which means Mother lied…again. All at once I'm filled with anger, fear, grief…but mostly, I'm hurt. She's not only lied to me, but to my face. How is it that the asari Councilor is more honest with me than the woman who raised me?

Goddess…

Somehow, I drift out of the War Room, barely noticing people as I walk past them out toward the elevator. Ellie notices my stricken face, eyes widening.

"Sasha, are you okay?" She asks. Vaguely I nod, meeting her eyes.

"I…need to speak with my mother," I mumble, getting into the elevator. She says something else to me, but I'm not paying attention. All I can think about is that birth certificate. I'd foolishly thought that it was showing me more about myself, but it was nothing more than more lies. But why? What could be so dire that an archaeology professor would create a false name for her daughter's father? A number of scenarios run through my head. Married men…crime rings…witness protection…

Oh dear Goddess…my father is a krogan crime lord who killed someone and sent my mother into witness protection…

Is Liara T'Soni even her real name?

I'm being ridiculous. Obviously there is a rational explanation for this and I just haven't figured it out yet. Now, if I can just find the strength to confront my mother, perhaps I can get some answers. The elevator slides open, revealing the quiet crew deck once more. Everyone has apparently turned in for the night. It's eerily quiet. Steeling myself, I straighten my shoulders and walk toward my mother's office. The door is wide open, which is odd, considering she never leaves doors open. Even when I was growing up, all doors in the house were shut and secured when we left a room.

I can see Collins and Vakarian standing inside with her; all three huddled together worriedly, speaking in low tones. My stomach fills with dread as I sense something is wrong. They notice me standing in the doorway, casting a shadow into the room and break apart.

"Sasha!" My mother looks up and I suddenly forget why I've come bursting into her quarters, because she's pale and it looks like she might burst into tears at any second.

"What's going on?" I glance from her to Garrus to Collins in askance. My mother freezes, unable to speak.

"We'll give you a minute," Collins finally speaks, patting my shoulder and moving toward the door. "I'll set a course for Thessia right away."

"Thessia?" I ask, meeting Vakarian's blue eyes. His face is set in a grim expression, but I can see sympathy etched in his weathered features, so like his great-nephew. I watch them leave, staring at their backs until the door slides closed behind them as dread pools in the pit of my stomach. Glyph's blue glow is cast over the dim room as he hovers nearby. My eyes fall on Mother, who is practically leaning over her terminal. I have never seen her so defeated; so tired looking. Her hand is holding the back of her chair so tightly, her knuckles are white.

"Mother…" I whisper, stepping toward her hesitantly.

She sighs and her shoulders move with her breath before she turns to face me and I almost gasp at the sight of her red rimmed eyes, full of unshed tears. I have never, in fifty-three years of living, seen my mother cry. Liara T'Soni is never anything but the calm, steady presence in any crisis. My hands ball into fists at my sides as I brace myself for whatever bombshell she's going to drop on me.

"What is it?" My voice cracks.

In a low voice, she murmurs dazedly. "There's been a break-in on Thessia. Our house. Someone broke into our home and set off the alarm…" She looks up from the floor, meeting my eyes quietly. "Aethyta is dead."

"What?" I stare at her in shock, unwilling to believe it. Aethyta; strong, independent, unfaltering Aethyta can't be dead. She's immovable. Granted, she's near a thousand years old, so no doubt she's not as strong as she once was, but she is – was – one of the strongest people I've ever known. I can't imagine the fool who dared face her and lived to tell the tale. I feel like I've been shot in the gut, and it must show, because I bend over, wincing as I try to process the fact that my mother's father is dead. The only other family I have in the universe besides my mother is gone forever. "What was she doing there?" I finally manage to say, clenching my jaw.

Mother shakes her head, looking more uncertain than I've ever seen her. For a moment, we're both just two very young asari, unsure of how to accept that someone we've both loved so fiercely is dead. So, without a word, I step forward and pull her into my arms, realizing that for the first time in my entire life, I'm the one who needs to be strong for her. I don't cry. I want to, but I can't right now. To my utter horror, and slight relief, Mother breaks, burying her face in my shoulder as I stare, unblinking at the wall. I realize in that moment how emotionally stunted I am, and I wish fervently that Mother had moved us to the Citadel all those years ago instead of shielding me away from everything on Thessia. I suddenly realize that perhaps it wasn't just me she was protecting, but herself. She was hiding from everything; every reminder of that person she'd loved enough to make a child with, whether it was Thalia P. Kendris or a krogan crime lord or whoever.

My calm, collected mother was afraid.

I wonder briefly if things would have been different had Commander Shepard survived the war. Would Mother still be working for the Savior of the Galaxy?

I guess we'll never know.

She pulls away from me, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand and exhales slowly. "I'm sorry…"

"For what?" I ask, "Being upset that your father is dead?" I swallow the lump in my throat, pushing back the additional response, I know the feeling. "This is the first time I've ever seen you cry," I tell her. "In fifty-three years, I have never seen my own mother cry."

"It's not something you ever needed to see," she replies.

"We are family," I tell her angrily, "We are supposed to lean on each other for support. Isn't that what Aethyta always said?" Shaking my head, I turn away from her. "I am so tired of you trying to protect me from everything. Guess what, Mother? You can't. I'm fifty-three years old. And I wish you would give me enough credit to realize that I can handle the truth."

"Sometimes, the truth is better left unsaid," comes her soft reply. I whirl around, facing her and preparing to throw what I know in her face, but her broken expression stops me and I realize this is another battle for a different day.

"Forget it," I sigh, "Just try to get some sleep."

"Sasha—"

"Not tonight, Mother," I sigh, giving her a tired glance. "I don't have the strength. I have to go check on Dox and get ready for bed."

She grabs my hand, stopping me. "After Thessia, we'll talk," she promises. "I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"Thank you," I nod, kissing her cheek before squeezing her hand and walking toward the door. I pause, turning to Glyph. "Make sure she's alright."

"Of course, Officer Valore."

I glance back one last time, noticing her chewing her lip as she stares at her terminal screen. With a sigh, I glance skyward knowing full well the stubborn asari isn't going to sleep at all. All at once, the strain of the day catches up with me and I nearly collapse from exhaustion, bracing against the wall as I head toward the elevator, looking longingly at the door leading to my bed. But, I've already decided to check on Dox first. When the elevator opens, Collins is standing there looking both worried and bemused.

"Is everything alright, Captain?" I ask, getting his attention. He looks down at me distractedly as if he didn't notice me standing right in front of him.

"Oh, uh…yeah," he nods. "Well, no…have you seen Jessie?"

"She's not in the cockpit?" I ask, frowning. He shakes his head.

"Peretti is flying the ship right now, which is weird for a few reasons, but Jess doesn't like sharing the pilot's chair as you know," he explains, running a hand through his dark hair in agitation.

"Well, I'm going down to Engineering to check on Dox. I'll see if she's down there. Maybe Adam and Ona have seen her," I offer.

Collins nods. "God knows where she's gotten off to. I'll check around here and my cabin. Sometimes, she goes up there to call her family in private."

"Right, I'll just head down—"

EVE's voice comes over the comm. "Sir, I've found her. She's in the subdeck down in Engineering. She's been drinking."

"Thanks, EVE," he starts toward the elevator, "I'll just—"

"Let me," I tell him gently, putting a hand up.

"I had a feeling something was up. She's been moping all day," he admits, shaking his head. I nod, managing a shaky smile at him. Sleep will have to wait.

The first thing I do down in Engineering is move carefully toward the Port Cargo hold to check on Dox. I can hear his snore before I even open the door, though I'm not prepared for what I see when it opens. The bed lies empty in the corner and my eyes fall to the yahg curled up on the floor beside it, probably experiencing the first real sleep of his life. There is something heartbreakingly innocent about the gigantic creature that has been so wronged in his life. In his hands he clutches a pillow to himself, with his eyes shut so tightly it looks like he's in pain. Carefully so as not to wake Dox, I pull the soft, knitted blanket from his cot and drape it over his hulking shoulders. He doesn't even flinch, out cold from the tranquilizers. I smile slightly, realizing that this is what it's all about. Dox will never have to worry about being hurt again. He will never have to sleep on a cold, hard floor again and someday, he might be able to move past his horrific past and sleep in that bed.

I slip out of the room, quietly opening the door that leads into Engineering and descending the metal staircase. Sure enough, Jess is sitting against the wall on the floor, holding a glass bottle in her hand with her elbows on her knees and her head bowed. Her ragged SR-2 hat is perched on one knobby knee and her short hair is in disarray as if she's been tugging at it.

"You know, it's not really good to drink alone," I say, announcing my presence. She doesn't jump, though green eyes turn on me accusingly.

"Fuck off, I'm trying to wallow in self-pity here," she snaps, though there is no real fire behind her tone. In fact, if I had to label it, I'd say she looks damn near crushed.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Nope," she answers, taking a swig of the amber liquid in her bottle. Silently, I sink down the wall to sit beside her.

"How about I go first?" I offer, toying with the armor I'm still wearing from Sur'Kesh.

"Do what you want," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, I just found out my father didn't exist," I confess, feeling slight relief at getting it off my chest. She gives me a skeptical look, urging me to continue so I can explain better. "The name on my birth certificate is false. The asari who legally fathered me is a false name."

"What?" Jess raises an eyebrow. "Why the hell would your mother give a false name?"

"To protect herself, I think?"

"Okay," Jess concedes, "but then, if your mother needed protection, why wouldn't she change her own name too?"

I falter, stricken by the validity of her point. "I…don't know," I admit.

"Maybe your father was some high profile asari like a Matriarch or that arrogant bitch Fiera Valois," Jess suggests. My eyes widen at her description of Councilor Valois.

"Why do you say Valois is an arrogant…bitch…?"

"Oh, please," Jess scoffs, "Everyone knows she's racist as hell. Her and the salarian Councilor have always been thick as thieves. She's very anti-quarian and krogan and it's no secret that she's not a fan of humans. They tried to pass a law about twenty years ago to have the quarians live in an assigned sector on the Citadel now that they're integrated into the galactic community again. Said some bullshit about their immune systems not being strong enough to handle regular society. She was all for it." She leans closer, lowering her voice. "My grandfather told me that there are rumors about her and the salarian Councilor having secret meetings with some undisclosed rich investors from Ilium and Sur'Kesh."

"And you believe that?"

Green eyes meet mine, full of fire. "Absolutely. Pops heard it from General Alenko, who apparently is in contact with the Shadow Broker."

I swallow a chuckle. "The Shadow Broker? Really? I thought that was just something people made up."

"For a fifty-three year old asari physicist who's a C-Sec officer, you're pretty oblivious, aren't you?" Jess says. When I don't respond, she deflates. "Sorry, that was shitty."

"It's fine. You're right," I answer bitterly. "I'm naïve. I know that now. I just always thought the Shadow Broker was something people built up in their minds. This all-knowing information broker? It just seems a little impossible to me."

"Well whoever he – or she – is, they're damn good at their job," Jess continues. "That's how Alenko found out about The Asset. They wanted to destroy it before Valois and the salarian Councilor could use it against us."

"But what about the batarians wanting to start Civil War?" I ask, suddenly wondering if Pintha really was kidnapped.

"They haven't figured it out yet. But we do know that they're involved since they're funding all of those horrible studies on Sur'Kesh for your yahg buddy. The money came from an account held by the batarian Kezier." She takes another long sip and offers me the bottle. Slightly overwhelmed, I take it and take a long sip. My eyes widen as the potent alcohol burns its way down my throat and I begin to cough and wretch. Jess snorts, shaking her head. "Easy, Blue. This is Irish whiskey."

"Your turn," I wheeze, trying to regain the ability to breathe.

"It's not like a big deal," Jess sighs, "Today would have been Mom's birthday." She shrugs, glaring intently at the wall. Now it makes sense.

"I'm sorry," I sit cross legged, looking down into my lap.

"Don't be," she scoffs. "I'm the stupid shit for letting it bug me. She's been dead for years."

"That doesn't mean you can't miss her," I point out gently.

"Miss her?" Jess cries, "I don't! I hate her. I hope she's rotting in Hell."

I gasp. "You don't mean that."

Jess turns, looking down at me icily. "Oh yeah? Let me tell you a story, Little Miss Perfect," she growls. "Once Upon a Time there were two little kids whose mother couldn't pull her shit together to take care of them. She refused to get help; decided that she didn't want to get better and just lived in her own misery. She stopped bathing, stopped going outside. She tried to kill herself. One day, she finally takes a shower, does herself up real nice. She shows up at our school and pulls us out early saying we're all going to spend the day together.

So, she takes us home, and we spend the afternoon helping her make cookies and watching old Disney vids with her. It's the first real time she's ever wanted to spend with us." She pauses, taking another sip. "We're halfway through a movie when I go to the bathroom. While I'm in there, I hear Adam scream, so I run out. Mom's standing over him with a knife in her hand, and blood is just dripping from it. Adam is on the floor and he's covered in blood. She turns and sees me and I see her eyes and I'll never forget it, I just see nothing there. She's gone. She starts toward me, but it's like she doesn't even see me. I try to beg her to stop, but she doesn't hear anything, so I climb around the furniture and grab Adam; thankfully he was still little enough to carry and I ran past her and flew down into the basement to the only place I could think of; the pantry under the stairs."

I keep my eyes on Jess, watching her face closely. The dark circles under her eyes seem more prominent; the gauntness in her cheeks more defined. She looks…haunted. "What happened?" I ask in a hushed voice.

She meets my eyes, looking hollow and almost childlike for a moment, before speaking in a barely audible tone. "She was demented. She was clawing at the wood trying to get in, poking the blade through the vent. Adam was just bleeding like crazy and I was holding him in my lap keeping pressure on him. She got him in the side. The sounds were inhuman; almost like she was possessed. She let out this scream like a banshee." Jess swallows. "And then it just…stopped." I don't like where this is going. "A little while later, I'm not sure how long exactly, my dad and Collins came home and must have followed the blood trail, because they were all frantic, flying down the stairs to find us.

I've never heard Dad sound that way, but he kept screaming our names and then Collins realized the door to the pantry was locked and busted it open and found us curled up in there. My Dad was just…sobbing and hugged us. I told him Adam was hurt and he was unconscious. Collins took him out right away and Dad picked me up even though I was eleven at the time and he tried to shield my face, but I looked anyway. Mom was…" She breathes. "She was lying face down in a pool of blood. Slit her own throat."

"Goddess…" I murmur, horrified. She doesn't seem to notice.

"After that, we moved in with Pops and Gram," she confides. "I don't know what we would have done…my Dad never really recovered from her death. He felt so guilty over what Mom had done to Adam and I, he kind of withdrew slightly from us. Starting working longer hours. If it wasn't for our grandparents…" She trails off, letting the statement hang in the air. I watch silently as her face crumples, no doubt the alcohol lowering her reticence. She puts one hand over her face and lets out a sound that is undoubtedly a sob. Taking pity, I scoot closer to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She recoils slightly for a moment, glowering at me through her tears like she wants to push me away.

"There's no shame in leaning on a friend," I tell her. "Isn't that what we are? Friends?"

"I don't do friends," she sighs, using her sleeve to wipe her eyes.

"Tough shit," I insist with half a chuckle, daring her to resist. Instead, she sags against my side and rests her head against the cool metal of the wall. I hear footsteps at the top of the stairs and notice Adam and Ona standing there.

"Everything alright down here, Sasha?" Ona asks, stepping down.

"Oh great," Jess mutters, "Here comes the peanut gallery."

"Be nice," I scold through gritted teeth. She rolls her eyes at me.

"Collins is worried about you, Jess," Adam tells her, blanching slightly at the sight of his independent sister's tear soaked face. "So am I."

"I'm fucking fine, Adam," Jess scoffs. "I'm having my period."

"No you're not," he responds nonchalantly. "And that would be the second time this month. You just had your period two weeks ago. I heard you telling Ellie about it in the mess. You both concluded that your cycles were synced—"

"Adam," Jess' voice is even, but full of warning, "inappropriate."

"This is about Mom, isn't it?" He asks, and Ona gives me a startled look. I shake my head to indicate I'll fill her in later. "It's her birthday."

"You remember that?" Jess asks, surprised.

Adam frowns. "Jess, I remember everything."

She blinks up at him. "Everything?"

He nods, untucking the hem of his uniform shirt and pulling it up to reveal his stomach. A long scar runs across the pale skin of his side. It's still raised, but clearly has faded over the long years since he was stabbed. "But I also know that Mom was sick. She wasn't evil. She had schizophrenia." He crouches in front of his sister, surprising even me when he takes her hand. "And someday, you're going to have to forgive her. I have."

"I won't," Jess insists. "I'll never forgive her. You didn't have to hold your little brother's insides together while we waited for someone to find us."

"Jessie—"

"Adam, stop," Jess pleads. The anger is gone from her voice and her lower lip is quivering dangerously.

"I know you stopped going to counseling. Pops told me." Adam shakes his head standing. "And you know what? If you're too damned stubborn to admit you need help dealing with this after all this time, then you're no better than she was."

Jess is on her feet in seconds. "Fuck you!"

Adam didn't flinch. "No, Jessica. Fuck you! You want to live in the past for the rest of your life like Dad does, you go right ahead. But don't expect any sympathy from me!"

"Like I'd expect any emotion from you anyway," Jess fires back at him, clearly wounded. "You're practically a robot! God knows you want to screw one, anyway."

Adam freezes, his eyes wide with something that I can't quite distinguish. He's either horrified or hurt that she's throwing his bond with EVE in his face. Either way, it's heartbreaking because I know Jess has hurt him. "Wow, Jess," he says in disbelief. "That's low. Even for you." With that, he leaves us standing in the subdeck with nothing but the overhead light pouring in from the Engineering floor above. Jess looks conflicted, like she's not sure if she's furious or ashamed. Her eyes are still full of tears.

"Screw this shit," Jess says in a broken voice. The door above slides open again, and both Ona and I look up, hoping Adam has come back and they can work it out. Instead, the shadow this time is distinctly turian.

Cassias.

Suddenly, I have the urge to cry as the day catches up to me. Between Sur'Kesh and Dox, and finding out about Thalia and Aethyta…and Fiera…and Jess…I'm spent. Blue eyes lock on me almost sternly as he comes down the stairs. I look down, chastened by his glance and too tired to argue any more. He glances from me to Jess to Ona and back to me.

"Uh…bad time?"

"Ya think?" Ona sighs, shrugging and earning a glare from her cousin.

"Come on, Valore. Collins sent me down here to get you. Said you were dead on your feet," he puts a hand on my shoulder to guide me toward the stairs. I halt, looking back at Jess.

"I don't want to leave her," I protest.

Ona steps forward. "I'll stay with her, Sasha. Go get some rest. You're no good to us tired."

"It's going to be rough on you once we get to Thessia," Cass adds. "Better get sleep now."

"Same goes for you," Ona instructs Jess.

"Oh right," the pilot says acidly, "like I'm gonna take orders from a pipsqueak like you."

"Try me," Ona suggests cheerfully, waving us off. I relent, allowing Cassias to guide me by the waist back up the stairs as the sounds of Jess and Ona's quiet arguing grows lower. We're almost to the top when my legs give out from under me.

"And, there goes that method," Cassias sighs, stooping and easily sweeping me up in a move reminiscent of Fleet & Flotilla. If I wasn't so exhausted, I'd make fun of him. To his credit, Cass carries me all the way back to Starboard Observation, while I try to keep my eyes open.

"Come on, Sasha," he mutters, unclipping my armor, "you gotta work with me here." Blearily, I follow his instruction, letting him help me out of my armor, too wiped to feel any semblance of modesty. Once I'm in the spandex undersuit, he turns around quickly (too quickly) and I remove it, pulling on the long shirt I've been sleeping in. I fall into the bed, staring blindly at the ceiling and thinking of Aethyta as I try to recall the last thing she ever said to me. It was just a couple weeks ago.

Hummingbird, one of these days, you're going to take this godforsaken crap hole of a galaxy by storm and you're going to see just how special you are.

Hot tears well up in my eyes as I realize I will never see her again. I will never hear her raspy voice or laugh at her jokes. She will never see my children. I never got to say goodbye.

"Cassias?" I whisper into the darkness. "Are you awake?"

"Mmpf," is his reply. I take it as a yes and get up out of the bed, creeping across the room on sore legs and feet. "What?" He asks tiredly, peering at me through slitted eyes. My face falls and I burst into tears, finally reaching my breaking point. "Damn it," I hear him groan, moving over on his cot and throwing the covers aside. "Come on." Gratefully, I crawl between his sheets and turn onto my side, burying my face against the bare plates of his sturdy chest. Sighing, he wraps one arm around my waist and I clutch his bare upper body, crying it all out on him, which I'm just so sure, is amazingly attractive. I'm actually a little surprised at how warm he is as I feel his hand move in gentle circles on my back, comforting me.

Maybe tomorrow I'll have the decency to feel ashamed or embarrassed, but right now I don't. I relax against Cass' body and before I can even think about tomorrow, I'm asleep.