Chapter Forty-Seven
Architect of Fate

Omega, Sahrabarik

Her fingers traced the bevelled edge of the small band. It was hard beneath her touch. Tangible.

Miranda repeated the motion, swiping her finger back and forth repeatedly. Incessantly. She'd long since lost track of how long she had been sitting, simply running her finger over the ring. Her only hints as to the passage of time were her numb backside and the fact that her eyes had adjusted to the absence of light within the Nest. From where she sat, folded into the corner beside the bed, Miranda could pick out every detail in the darkness.

The ability to see everything was hardly necessary. History had conspired to ensure that Miranda knew the Nest well. First Shepard, then Ashley. The lives of the Normandy's two Captains had become intimately entwined with her own. It was an unwanted and cruel twist of fate that the quarters now belonged to her.

Shepard's detritus she could live with, Ashley's belongings were another matter altogether. Aside from the cold, purpose like weapons rack that had been installed in place of the fish tank, the stuff was just that - stuff. Clothes, data pads, empty coffee cups - everything could be removed with little effort. For the sake of her sanity, Miranda knew it needed to happen. Yet she couldn't bring herself to clear away even a single cup. It would happen eventually. When Ashley's smell no longer lingered on the clothes. When Miranda finally came to her senses and accepted that her behaviour wasn't healthy. Until that time came, every last bit of stuff would remain exactly where Ashley had left it.

"I am sorry to interrupt, Captain."

EDI's interruption was a gentle one, but Miranda jumped nevertheless. She recovered her composure almost instantly. The AI's voice reminded her that she had been ignoring responsibility for long enough. It was time.

Her limbs were stiff from sitting on the floor for too long, but she rose swiftly to her feet. The ring she squeezed in her palm for one long moment, long enough and hard enough for it to leave an indentation in her palm.

"I'm not a bloody captain." She'd done nothing to earn the title. She wasn't even in charge. Not really. "Miranda will suffice."

"Understood, Miranda. You wanted to know when our departure preparations were complete-"

"Let the crew know we're shipping out at 0900." Miranda interrupted swiftly. Now that their departure was imminent, she felt a massive weight lifted from her shoulders. She needed to leave this place, and the memories that it held, behind her. "And EDI? Also inform them that anyone late for departure will be left on Omega."

"Affirmative. You also have a visitor."

"I don't have time-" Miranda began in an irritated voice.

"Shepard is waiting in the corridor outside." It was EDI's turn to interrupt, a perk of self-awareness. "I judged the probability of you wanting to see her at seventy-five percent. If my calculations were incorrect, I must apologise."

"No, you're not wrong. Thank you, EDI. I'll take it from here."

Miranda crossed to the door herself. Palming it open she found Shepard leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the corridor, arms folded across her chest, neutral expression on her face. It made a welcome change from seeing a constant parade of sympathetic faces – all well-meaning, but irritating with their earnest need to ensure that she was alright. Unlike the others, Shepard understood.

"I supposed you want me to invite you in?"

Shepard was unperturbed by Miranda's curt tone. "Not necessarily. You've got a lot to do, I'm more than happy to walk with you."

While the offer would serve a purpose, Miranda knew she wouldn't be able to face saying goodbye to Shepard in public. She stepped aside and ushered the other woman into the Nest. Neither made any attempt to get comfortable. Shepard moved to study the rack of assault rifles where her fish tank had once been, instinctively drawn to the Black Widow at the centre. Miranda watched, without making any interjection. She'd taken Ashley's sniper rifle from the armoury days ago. It hurt to look at it, but at the same time she couldn't bear for it to be anywhere other than close to her.

"Do you mind?" Shepard asked, hand poised to take the weapon.

If it had been anyone else Miranda would have taken offence, but Shepard had just as much right to the Black Widow as she did. Upon Miranda's nod, Shepard took the sniper rifle from the rack and balanced it in her grip. The Widow extended, mechanism still flawless due to the impeccable condition in which it had been kept. Shepard tucked it against her shoulder and lifted it level. Without the assistance of a hardsuit, she was unable to hold it there for more than a few seconds.

"Fuck me, how the hell did Ash use this thing in combat?" Shepard huffed, letting it drop.

Miranda almost smiled at the comment, only Shepard's use of the past tense stopped her. It reminded her that any future mention of Ashley would be in the past tense, for the rest of their lives. She turned away, unable to look at the Widow any longer, only listening as the servos whirred and the rifle retracted into its resting state as Shepard gently placed it back in its spot.

"So the entire crew have agreed to stay on board," Miranda commented in a business-like tone, in an effort to get her thoughts back in the right place. "And we've picked up additional personnel - including two of the survivors from the Mindoir garrison - Parker and Rousmaniere, both good marines. The others have chosen to stay with the colonists, whatever happens moving forward."

"Understandably, none of the colonists have any interest in returning to Alliance space." Shepard picked up the thread. "I think the general feeling is that the Alliance abandoned them. There's an asari colony. Nevos. It was hit hard during the War, millions of casualties. They desperately need help re-establishing their food supply. I don't know how Liara did it, but the asari government have agreed to let the colonists settle there in exchange for their help rebuilding. It looks nice, but more importantly, it's safe."

"The Alliance aren't going to be impressed when they find out." It was an understatement. Miranda knew that the asari were taking a huge risk. The story could be spun that the colonists were being held against their will. The move could play right into the Alliance's hand.

Shepard's expression hardened. "It's what should have happened in the wake of the War. The Galaxy working together to rebuild. Instead Kessler and his cronies have pitted former allies against one another. If the Alliance have a problem with it, they can take matters up with me."

"You can't risk that, Shepard."

Shepard shook her head. "My time in hiding is almost up, Miranda, and I'm not sure I care. Four months ago I wouldn't have risked it - physically I couldn't have - but now, well, it's time to make good on all the second chances I've been given. I wish you'd reconsider your path, no one is asking you to go after Varek Kor'Amon immediately."

Miranda turned back to face Shepard. "You're withdrawing your support?"

"Absolutely not. This is your decision, Liara and I are behind you. You'll have the resources of the Shadow Broker backing you up. I just want to make sure you've thought this through."

Because Liara was the Shadow Broker. Miranda was still struggling to wrap her head around that revelation. And, if she was being honest with herself, she was a little angry that her friends had not thought to let her in on the secret earlier. Still, she had no desire to give any time over to such thoughts. She had enough hate in her heart already without starting on her own family.

"I have. And I'm not changing my mind." Miranda held up her hand, fingers curling outward to reveal the ring lying at the centre, nestled neatly in the indentation the pressure of her grip had made. "I don't want to assume what this ring meant for Ashley and I, even though a part of me desperately wants to know." She'd already wasted too many nights, curled up, clutching the ring and trying to dream of that future. A future that would never happen. "But I know what I meant to her, and that gives me all the impetus I need to see this through."

"This isn't goodbye, Miranda." Shepard said as she stepped forward, reaching out to take Miranda's hand and gently fold her fingers back over the ring. She then drew her into a fierce, unrestrained hug. "But it is good luck."

Closing her eyes, Miranda drew in a deep breath as she pressed hand and fist against Shepard's back. For just a minute or so, she let everything go and surrendered to the moment. Eventually she would have to take a step back and everything would come flooding back.

"We both know what Ash's intentions were. She loved you without reservation," Shepard whispered, pressing one hand against the back of Miranda's head in a level of intimacy the two of them had not shared for a long time.

Just a moment more. Miranda's body relaxed into the embrace and her defences dropped to the point where tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, even as she fought against them. "And I would have said yes."

The Normandy's preparation for departure had been accompanied by the usual hive of activity, but throughout Sam had sensed a distinct undercurrent of despondency about the whole operation. Even now, as she stood staring at the Normandy's hull, she felt none of the usual excitement that preceded combat. No sense of relief at their imminent departure from the shithole that was Omega. Sam couldn't speak for the rest of the crew, but she felt a palpable loss. In leaving, she would finally have to acknowledge the latest change in direction her life had taken. She was shipping out, but no longer as a marine. In fact, Sam wasn't entirely sure what she was. Freelancer? Privateer? Pirate? Not to mention the fact that she was shipping out without her Captain. Instead Sam would be serving under two women, both of whom terrified her for different reasons. Their mission was largely undefined and - with half of the Galaxy hunting them - highly likely to end in disaster.

Sam's one consolation was that Myke would be at her side. That fact made her fears recede.

"Sam!"

She hardly needed to look to its source to identify the voice. A smile crossed her face as she did, however it faltered almost immediately when she found that Myke wasn't carrying a bag, just her leather jacket slung across her shoulder.

"Hey." The simple word sounded hollow. "I've heard of travelling light, but you're taking things to a whole new level." Sam searched Myke's face for some sense that everything was going to plan, but she found nothing to give her hope. "Please tell me you're still leaving."

"I am leaving," Myke replied, her voice catching. "Just not on the Normandy."

Sam felt the first stirrings of anger. "Where the hell are you going then?"

"Nevos. With Samara. Escorting the colonists. Then we're joining Shepard on Thessia." The words tumbled out quickly before Myke was able to pause and draw a breath. "Sam, this isn't about us."

"It is bloody well about us!" Sam snapped, feeling some sense of satisfaction as Myke's expression crumpled. "We decided to leave on the Normandy. Together. We're supposed to be shipping out in an hour and you've chosen now to tell me that you've made other plans? Plans that don't involve me!"

When she looked around, Sam realised that her outburst had drawn the attention of everyone within a certain radius. She bit her lip, willing to consider how ridiculous she was being. Just for a moment. Their relationship was a little over a month old, yet she was acting as though she had some long-term claim to Myke's affections. Clearly she had made incorrect assumptions regarding their future together, ones that weren't reciprocated. Sam felt like an idiot.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, turning to leave. "Have a safe trip."

Fingers dug into her arm in a desperate grip. "Sam, please hear me out?"

Reluctantly, Sam allowed herself to be stopped and turned. However she stubbornly persisted in staring at her feet, unwilling to meet Myke's gaze. A gentle finger beneath her chin ruined that plan. Sam's knees almost buckled at the touch. Myke's eyes seemed to be liquid, her lips parted slightly.

"Stop that," Sam whispered in a determined voice.

Myke frowned in confusion. "Stop what?"

Sam sighed. "Making me want to kiss you."

The asari's frown deepened. She shook her head. "I'm not-"

"You don't need to do anything," Sam interrupted.

Out of some ridiculous notion of pride, she tried to compose herself. If she could hold herself together for a few more moments, then she could walk away with her dignity intact. Several deep breaths later, Sam felt as though she could see everything with some sort of clarity. With what was to come, separating was the best course of action. However she unravelled slightly when she made the mistake of reaching up to touch Myke's cheek in a parting gesture. For some irritating reason, her fingers wouldn't stop trembling. As she went to withdraw, Myke's hand darted up to stop her. Sam's hand was effectively trapped against Myke's cheek.

"This isn't goodbye," Myke explained. "Not for good. Just for now. There are things I need to do, to find out. I know this is terrible timing, at the moment that I find someone like you...but I've spent my life as an outsider. I don't know what it means to be asari, or if I even want to know, but I do know that I need to go to Thessia with Evan and Liara. Do you understand?"

"No." Nevertheless, the sensation in Sam's stomach felt suspiciously like hope. "And yes. I'm not bloody happy about it, but if this is what you need to do, then I'm not about to stop you."

"You'll wait for me?"

Sam swiped her thumb against Myke's cheek. "Depends how long it takes. I don't think I'll hang around for a couple of centuries, but yes, I'll wait. I'm kind of crazy about you after all."

Fighting against a grin, Myke let her hand fall. In one movement, she swept the jacket she'd been holding over Sam's shoulders. Sam's disbelieving stare was cut short when Myke grabbed her by the collar and tugged her in for a passionate kiss.

She was still regaining her breath a minute later, her chin propped against Myke's shoulder. "I can't take your jacket. You love this old thing."

"I insist," Myke said as she took a step back. She stroked the soft leather covering Sam's arm. "I like the thought of it being with you."

"You should be with me." Although a lingering trace of anger remained, Sam had since given in. She did not want to ruin their memories of one another with harsh words. Sam studied Myke's face intently, committing to memory the face of the individual she loved. She drew in a quiet, shuddering breath. "Find what you're looking for, then come back to me."

That irrepressible grin again, this time accompanied by an emphatic nod. "You can count on it. Just make sure you stay safe."

It was a promise Sam knew she couldn't make. As soon as the Normandy left Omega, they would be on their own. No Alliance to back them up. Just the uncharted waters of vengeance. For the first time, Sam questioned her own state of mind. Miranda Lawson was still grieving. Jack Zero she only really knew via second hand anecdotes - and most of these hinted at a woman who was an unstable, violent psychopath. What the hell am I doing? Sam thought whilst fighting to keep herself from giving into tears.

Just when she thought her life was already out of control, she managed to up the ante. However Sam only had to remember Ashley, those last moments on Chasca, then she was gripped with a fervour that made her doubts seem trivial. Wherever this path led, regardless of who was leading her, she'd follow it to the end.

"I promise I'll try, Myke," was the best Sam could offer in reply. "I don't suppose there's any point in telling you to do the same?"

Myke snorted disparagingly. "I'm going to be hanging out with Saint Samara, the biggest danger I'll be facing is boredom."

"Boredom is good. I'm quite happy with you being bored. It'll mean that you're safe." The humour disappeared as Sam swallowed awkwardly. "You know I love you right?"

Myke's expression softened, her lips parted in astonishment. "You do? I guess I kind of thought maybe it was too soon, that it was just me."

"Well it's not," Sam whispered as she leaned into Myke's body.

For a few glorious moments, she held on as tightly as possible, as though she was never going to let go. She fixed the memory of that moment in her mind, before pushing away decisively. Unable to utter a further word, Sam turned and walked towards the Normandy, all the while clutching the jacket around her shoulders.

It wasn't until she was safely on the other side of the airlock that she dared stop to draw a breath. Realising she was trembling, Sam closed her eyes in an effort to pull herself together.

"Are you ill, Chief Traynor?"

Sam's eyes snapped open to find Kurin staring at her, expression conveying none of the concern implicit in her question. The commando was carrying a large bag in one hand, with another smaller one slung over her shoulder.

"No, I'm fine," Sam replied in a terse voice. She nodded towards Kurin's bag. Deflecting attention away from her before she broke down. "Are you joining us?"

Kurin looked down at the bag as though realising she was carrying it for the first time. "I…yes."

Sam waited for Kurin to say something further, but apparently the brief words were the extent of her answer - or at least as much as the asari was willing to share. Kurin's lips twitched and her expressing waivered, but the rest of the conversation remained unspoken. The potential fallout from Kurin's presence on the Normandy already made Sam nervous. However it was Kurin's risk to take, not hers. And additional biotic skills would be more than welcome where they were going.

"It's good to have you on board." Sam broke the silence. "Do you have quarters?"

"I have been assigned use of something called the observation lounge."

"I'll lead the way," Sam offered.

"Thank you, Chief…and for the welcome. It was…unexpected."

"Don't mention it," Sam replied as they stepped into the elevator. The tiny space felt more claustrophobic than usual, she felt compelled to continue talking. "You'll soon come to understand something about serving on the Normandy, it gets under your skin, becomes a part of you in a way that other ships don't.

Kurin stared into space for several long moments, until Sam though that no reply would come.

Eventually the commando nodded. "I'm beginning to realise that."

Armali outskirts, Thessia

At the moment that she had assumed the mantle of the Shadow Broker, Liara had no time to weigh the pros and cons of her decision. Instead it had come in the heat of the moment, accompanied by the rush of blood to her head and the rapid thump of her heartbeat. When the dust had settled and the sparks finally stopped flying, she was left with the Galaxy's most powerful information network at her fingertips. While she had always instinctively known that the responsibility had the potential to consume her, she had no exit strategy to prevent that from happening.

Part of her feared that it was already too late. Almost every waking hour was spent as a slave to the Broker network – scouring the information that had been flagged for her attention, desperate not to miss any clue that could aid them in their fight. The stakes were simply too high for her to risk giving anything other than her full attention. Nor could she afford to regret her decision. What she wanted on a personal level was inconsequential in terms of the big picture. Still, the amber light filtering through the blinds told her that early evening had arrived. Another hour or so, and Liara would have worked away all the hours of sunlight. With a concerted burst of effort, she made her way through the most urgent of the priority messages that remained flagged for her attention. Unfortunately there was still very little of significance that could be forwarded on to the Normandy. A month after they had left Omega, Miranda and Jack were still operating on rumours and whispers in their search for Varek Kor'Amon.

Information coming out of Sol was confusing at best. The coordinated attacks across the human colonies were reported as having been thwarted by the Alliance Navy. Any losses of life or freedom had been downplayed. Liara did not expect to find any mentions of asari involvement on Mindoir, but she had expected Ashley Williams' death to occupy the headlines. Instead the Alliance-run news outlets stated only that Captain Williams had been instrumental in the operation. Grainy footage of Ashley managing to look both pissed off and despondent at the destruction on Chasca had been all over the feeds for weeks. It wasn't faked, but rather shot during the brief window between the first and second attacks. The coverage was only just starting to die down, and further news about either the Normandy or its Captain was absent from mainstream media.

While that particular mystery was one of Liara's main concerns, there were several more trivial matters that continued to occupy her time. A week earlier a signal had been picked up by one of her agents whilst passing through on the outer edge of Council space. It had deteriorated to the point where little was discernible other than a word that may have been 'T'Soni.' However when the source was investigated, the agent found a remote outpost that looked as though it had been abandoned decades earlier. However his arrival triggered a second signal, a beacon of sorts that pointed towards a destination in the next system. Now two weeks later, that same agent was still chasing signals across Council space, each time finding a habitat scoured clean of all traces of life. Liara was beginning to curse her curiosity for the waste of resources. One more week, she told herself, then she'd call it off.

What was it that Shepard had said the other day? A wild goose chase? Liara had no idea what a goose was, but it sounded suitably ridiculous.

The second trivial matter had the potential to develop into something far more concerning. In hindsight Liara should have anticipated that Tasha Kurin, former commando captain and scion of the Kurin family, couldn't simply turn her back on her duty. When the Pserimos had returned to Thessia minus its captain and carrying instead the daughter of a disgraced traitor, the Kurins had responded to protect their honour. No Kurin would ever willingly turn her back on duty or her family.

Liara had long since regretted not opting for a discreet return, but she knew that news travelled quickly on Thessia. Indeed her arrival had already been anticipated by the reopening of the T'Soni estate. This had never been something that she could hide from. She checked her personal messages and answered the latest demands from Matriarch Lidanya Kurin with another terse, yet polite reply clearly implying that the whole affair was none of her business. It was only a holding tactic, it had already come to her attention through the Broker Network that the Kurins were making concerted efforts to find their wayward daughter. There was the distinct potential that their interference could eventually create problems for the Normandy. With a flick of her wrist, Liara dismissed the message, wishing that she could make the whole problem disappear so easily.

"Mistress T'Soni?"

The sudden announcement startled her. After years spent alone on dig sites, Liara had well-honed senses that usually prevented anyone sneaking up on her, but apparently a commando never truly stopped being a commando.

"Mistress T'Soni was my mother," Liara replied. She couldn't keep the edge from her voice. Coming home had forced her to confront buried emotions about Benezia, and it had not been easy. "How many times do I need to ask you to call me Liara?"

"Don't take that tone with me." The response was just as frosty. "You're not a child anymore. You're the head of the T'Soni house and you should be addressed as such…or would you prefer to spend your days hiding under your bed?"

Against Liara's better judgement, a smile tugged at her lips. She straightened her back and stepped away from the console, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as she did so.

Liara turned around to find Shiala staring at her with an obvious expression of nostalgia. Those days seemed almost carefree in comparison to the horrors her mother's acolyte had suffered since. Being possessed by the Thorian on Feros had changed Shiala's life beyond just the green hue of her skin. Liara suspected that it was the loss of Feros's colonists during the War that had the most devastating effect, but Shiala kept such thoughts to herself, preferring to bury herself in the massive task of restoring and running the T'Soni estate.

Although the estate had never been directly targeted, it had not escaped the War unscathed. Large swathes of the once handsome façade were pitted and blackened, and the entire south wing was entirely uninhabitable. In an odd way, Liara was grateful. The south wing had been the family living quarters. Her mother's rooms especially she had no desire to visit. Not yet.

"I was never particularly good at hiding."

"That's because you didn't pay any attention to my advice, much as you are doing now. You have been working for too long," Shiala admonished gently. "I know this work is of great importance, but it will mean little if you work yourself into your grave. A meal has been prepared, you should eat it."

Liara stifled her grumpy protest about being treated like a child. "And Evan?"

"Commander Shepard is still in the courtyard with Matriarch Calis." Shiala habitually forgot to drop the 'Commander' and was unapologetic when reminded. "Although from the conversation I overheard, I do not think that she is still there willingly."

Liara fought to rein in the knowing smile that wanted to cross her lips. She knew her bondmate all too well. Despite the importance of her training with the Matriarch, Shepard struggled with anything she didn't consider herself to be 'good at.'

"I think a rescue is in order." It was easier to step away from her work when there was something else to occupy her mind. "Will you join us for dinner?"

Shiala's body stiffened noticeably. "Mistress T'Soni, that would be…inappropriate."

"Is it inappropriate to eat with family?" Liara replied quickly, hoping to put Shiala at ease. The last thing she wanted was for the ex-commando to feel uncomfortable in a house that she had called her home for centuries. She was anxious to establish a new relationship between them, one that was not based on Shiala having been her mother's acolyte, or having watched over her as a child. "Please. Evan is no doubt sick of my company."

Shiala inclined her head. "Then I will join you. Thank you…Liara. Watching as the colonists on Feros died during the War, feeling a small part of me die every time one of them did, I thought that I would never feel a sense of belonging again. And I certainly did not expect to find it in this place."

A tremulous smile touched the older asari's lips before she made a hasty exit, as though fearful that she would embarrass herself if she lingered.

Grateful that she had Shepard's predicament to prevent her from returning to work, Liara made her way outside. The gentle breeze that brushed against her skin berated her for having spent all day indoors. She paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, savouring the crisp air. The T'Soni estate occupied a prominent point on the Armali coast. The grounds gently sloped away from the house, leading down towards the sea some several hundred metres away. The once immaculate gardens were now something of a ruined wilderness by asari standards. The expanse of lush purple grass was scorched in places, pockmarked with shell holes exposing the dark earth beneath, some stretching dozens of metres across.

The foliage that remained had escaped the shackles of constant pruning, allowed to grow naturally for the first time in centuries. In all truth, Liara preferred nature's intended shapes – asymmetrical and imperfect. The holes, and indeed the house itself, would all be repaired in time, but she intended to let the garden grow wild.

Her simple plans caused a slight pang of despondency. For all she knew, her stay here would be a brief interlude before duty dragged her away once more. Leaving ought to have been effortless. All her years spent living on dig sites and star ships should have cured her of the need to put down roots, for a home of her own, but she could not deny the lure of her family home. Even with all the baggage that entailed - memories of Benezia, of her lonely childhood – she felt a sense of peace in this place. And, in the wake of all that had happened to her in recent years, she could not take peace for granted.

On making her way to the courtyard, Liara found Shepard and Matriarch Calis sitting in the last of the sun's warmth. They were both seated cross-legged, although that was where the similarities ended. While the Matriarch was the epitome of calm, Shepard looked as though she was poised on the brink of flight – her knee twitched incessantly and her face looked as though she was undergoing some form of torture as opposed to meditating. Liara did not announce her presence immediately, instead she lingered at a safe distance.

Even from an innocuous position, Matriarch Calis radiated a sense of power. Her midnight blue skin appeared black at times, in stark contrast to the vibrant green markings that ran from her forehead down to her jaw line. Liara had known the elder asari from childhood, even calling her 'Aunt' when she was younger although there was no familial relation. More recently, Liara knew that the Matriarch had fallen out with Benezia when she refused to believe that Saren could be guided towards anything other than evil. And now Calis was one of the few asari on Thessia whom Liara could trust to help Shepard understand her random biotic-like powers. Even whilst rebuilding in the aftermath of War, asari politics were a minefield where Liara had few allies. The time would eventually come when Shepard would have to reveal herself. Until then, Liara was determined to do everything in her power to keep her bondmate safe.

"This is pointless," Shepard snapped, blatantly losing patience with the exercise. Her eyes opened. "We've been doing this for weeks with absolutely no success."

"It is apparent that your measure of success differs from mine." If Calis was offended by Shepard's outburst, she did not reveal it in her voice. The Matriarch opened her eyes and regarded Shepard with an impenetrable gaze. "However you are tired, it is therefore prudent that we end your training for today."

Shepard bristled noticeably. "I'm not tired. I just don't see the point in wasting time on so-called training when I could be doing something useful."

That earned a reaction of sorts. Calis pursed her lips in displeasure. "Something useful? You are a soldier. Your uses are limited to killing and ordering others to kill for you."

A small gasp left Liara's lips in response to the words. Regardless of the element of truth contained within the words, they did not represent everything about her bondmate. Almost unconsciously, she took a step forward. However, at the precise moment that her boot hit the tiles, Shepard flared. A brilliant red corona enveloped her seated form. Tendrils of the mysterious energy darted outwards in an unstable dance.

While the fury on Shepard's face quickly gave way to fear, Matriarch Calis did not move a muscle. Instead she remained seated. Even as the energy lashed out towards her, she calmly observing her pupil.

Liara's first instinct was to go to Shepard's side but she forced herself to remain at a distance, trusting in the Matriarch's ability to teach and in Shepard's own resolve not to panic.

"Explain to me how the energy feels, Shepard. Do you have control over it?"

Shepard responded with a taut shake of her head. "It's…no, I can't control it. I can feel it flowing through me, I can feel the potential, waiting to be used, but I have no idea how to do anything with it. It's like I'm just a spectator."

"Very well, maintain calm. The energy needs to be released, or there is the distinct possibility that it will tear you apart on a molecular level. In the past, what has happened to cause the field to dissipate?"

Shepard's lip trembled slightly. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. "I've either attacked something…or, ummm, it's been released when I've…" Her voice trailed off for a moment, before she clearly remembered that she was an adult as opposed to an awkward teenager. "When I've climaxed, during sex."

Calis frowned pensively. "While the latter would obviously be quieter and create less of a mess, it would also be time consuming and awkward. Attack me."

"What?"

"For a moment, consider me your enemy. It should not be too difficult for you given your primitive, violent nature."

"I'm not violent natured!" Shepard snapped back. "Or primitive! And you can't possibly expect me to attack you here…or anywhere for that matter."

Events suddenly unfolded at lightning speed. The Matriarch flared to match Shepard. Calis's own corona, a brilliant blue, enveloped her body. With a sharp cry, she detonated the corona, projecting the dark energy outwards at speed. The two fields - blue and red - collided with a low boom that echoed around the courtyard. The shockwave rippled outwards and Liara instinctively threw up her barriers.

In the wake of the explosion, the only casualty was a small stone statue that had been sent flying from its pedestal, one that Liara had never liked. She felt a small sense of satisfaction at seeing it smash on the tiles. Both Shepard and Matriarch Calis remained seated at the cetre of the maelstrom.

The expression on Calis's face was once again a mask of calm. It was only Shepard's face that hinted at what had just happened.

"It is as I feared," the Matriarch intoned softly. "Your power is entwined with your emotions and inherantly unstable. Were you an asari, you would be confined to a monastery for several centuries. However you are not, and as such the constraints imposed by your short life span may negate the usefulness of any knowledge I can impart. Dr T'Soni-" Calis turned to look at Liara, obviously having been aware that she was there the whole time. "- your opinion is relevant given the nature of your relationship, but I would strongly advise that this human adheres to a strict regime of biotic suppressants for the rest of her lifespan."

Shepard had obviously not realised Liara was present. She rose to her feet with an indignant expression on her face. "Does this human get any say at all in the matter? There's no way in hell I'm taking drugs for the rest of my life. The only time I've been in any danger of imploding is whilst I've been with you, prior to that I've been perfectly fine. These so-called training sessions are over!"

Without a further word, Shepard marched out of the courtyard. Liara was left with the Matriach, an apologetic expression on her face as she closed the distance between them. Calis rose to her feet gracefully, albeit with a well-concealed slowness that hinted at her great age. She stared for a long moment at Shepard's swift moving form in the distance, her expression unreadable.

She spoke just as Liara was attempting to find words with which to fill the silence. "Your bondmate is a fasincating individual, Mistress T'Soni."

The formal title sounded even more grating coming from the Matriarch. For some reason Liara felt even less able to correct Calis, than she did with Shiala.

"Enigmatic and powerful, yet conversely childlike and altogether infuriating. And pain…she carries so much within that peculiar body of hers…in fact, I am not altogether sure that it is her body." Calis turned to look at Liara properly for the first time, a deep frown creasing her ordinarily smooth brow. "Your mother fought to keep you sheltered, this is not the life she would have wished for you."

"Are any of us living the life that our parents would have wished?" Liara asked in reply, fighting down her anger towards Benezia for that very upbringing.

The Matriarch's frown disappeared, replaced by a small smile. "No, I suppose not. I do not envy you in this life you have chosen, yet I suspect that you would not wish to change it for any amount of wealth or happiness."

"Knowing what I do now?" Liara shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. Evan and I are bondmates for the rest of our lives, however long or short that may be."

"Then convince your bondmate to resume her training."

Liara nodded. "I will. Perhaps not today however. I underestimated how taxing this would be for her."

Calis inclined her head. "That is your prerogative, Mistress."

This time Liara managed to do nothing other than ground her teeth at the word.

"I suppose you know that speculation is rife amongst the legislature regarding your return. It is only a matter of time until you must formally announce your presence…and that of Commander Shepard."

"I know, but to do so would announce her existence to the rest of the Galaxy, and I fear she is not ready for that. Not yet"

With an elegant swish of her dress, Calis turned to leave. She glanced over her shoulder. The look on her face made Liara feel like a small child once again. "I agree with you, Mistress, but we live in a time where we must all be ready, regardless of our lack of preparation...or aptitude. Please tell Commander Shepard that I expect to see her tomorrow at dawn for morning meditation."

As Liara watched Calis leave, she instinctively knew what Shepard would say in response to that request and it was not something that she was willing to repeat to the Matriarch's face. She remained standing still long after the Matriarch had disappeared inside the house. Ruminating over the direction her life had taken. It was undoubtedly full circle – back to her ancestral home to be surrounded by individuals who had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. For someone who had spent so much time alone, or in the company of strangers, it was almost unsettling. Liara was stirred to action by a soft breeze stroking her cheek, reminding her that she wasn't one of the statues in the courtyard.

Shepard had made as far as the small bluff overlooking the sea by the time Liara caught up to her. The wind was much stronger, making its presence felt with invigorating salt tinged gusts. Without saying a word, Liara slid an arm around Shepard's waist and drew their bodies together. It wasn't overly cold – even as the sun dropped lower - but she tucked herself in close regardless, enjoying the simple moment between them. The sunset created a riot of colours across both sky and sea – brilliant purples blended into golden yellows above, contrasting with the dark turquoise of the sea below.

Shepard turned her head, pressing her cheek to Liara's. A small sigh escaped her lips, her mood had obviously softened from her angry outburst in the courtyard.

"I'll apologise to Matriarch Calis," Shepard said quietly. "But I'm not wasting any more of my time trying to control my biotics…or whatever the hell they are."

"That is your prerogative." Liara had no desire to enter into an argument, not in that moment.

They slipped into a comfortable silence, even as the temperature dropped and Shepard's cheek grew cold. Liara had since closed her eyes, leaning more heavily into the solid, reassuring body next to her. For the first time in years, Liara actually felt as though she was physically removed from the chaos that had governed her life – even though the source of most of that chaos was standing next to her.

Thoughts about work were still very much present, but they jostled for space alongside the more mundane concerns that were usually the preserve of 'normal' people. Liara wondered whether the kitchen had prepared her favourite dessert to accompany the evening meal, or if she actually needed it (of course she did). She supposed that learning how to make it herself would solve that problem, but cooking was a skill she had never had cause to learn.

"We could stay here you know," Shepard said in a quiet voice. It barely carried above the wind. "The Alliance will never be strong enough to challenge Asari sovereignty in their own territory. We could live out the rest of our lives in peace. We could even start our family tomorrow."

There was a hint of a smile in Shepard's voice. Liara turned so she could see it for herself and couldn't remember her bondmate ever looking so wistful. So hopeful. "You're tempted?" Shepard's hope was infectious.

"I was tempted," Shepard replied with another sigh. "For about…two minutes. Just now." The hope disappeared, replaced by an expression of resignation. "But I don't want to raise my kids in a Galaxy dominated by fear. I'll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't happen. Even if I have to tear everything apart and rebuild it again."

Shepard shifted her body so she could wrap both arms around Liara's shoulders. Liara eagerly surrendered to the embrace, feeling a thrill course through her body as their lips met – tenderly at first, before desire drove her to intensify the kiss. Wrapped up in the meeting of their lips were the promises of that future, of children and a life together. Their urgency however, carried the implicit warning that they were promises that might remain unfulfilled. Even after everything they had been through, a happy ending wasn't guaranteed. It wasn't fair, but Liara only had to turn her mind to Ashley to remind herself that life could end at any moment.

The kiss didn't last nearly as long as Liara would have liked, but she knew that the stirrings of desire in the pit of her stomach could not be satisfied on a windswept hillside - not unless she wanted sand in places where it did not belong. They had all night to remind one another that, for the time being, they were together.

Liara slipped out of Shepard's arms and began leading her bondmate back towards the house. When Shepard didn't maintain her grip, Liara looked back to find her staring out to sea. Shepard's brow was furrowed, indicating she was deep in thought.

"Is it right that we should get to decide what shape the Galaxy should take?" Shepard asked, playing devil's advocate.

The question took Liara by surprise. Her lips parted but no response was immediately forthcoming. However the longer she stared at Shepard - the unassuming and very human exterior concealing power and an unparalleled destiny - the clearer the answer became.

"You're the Architect of Fate." Liara said simply. "Who better to decide? Now hurry up before our dinner grows cold."

She turned and began walking up the gentle slope towards the house. After a few moments, she heard Shepard running to catch up.

"I know your true motivations, Liara T'Soni! You're only interested in dessert."

"That's not true!" Liara protested. There might have been a hint of truth, especially as her feet started moving faster.

A carefree laugh came from just behind her, then Shepard was suddenly streaking past at pace. Hair streaming out behind her as she ran across the grass. It would have been a simple matter for Liara to launch into a biotic charge, but that would have taken all the fun out of the chase. After hours spent working, the physical act of running was exactly what she needed.

And if she could catch up to Shepard before they made it back to the house, then perhaps a windswept hillside wouldn't be such a bad place to satiate her desire after all.

Normandy SR-2, Ismar Frontier

"Do you have any idea how this is going to work, Lawson?"

Miranda pretended to ignore Jack. She kept her gaze focused on the Galaxy Map below her even though she was no longer paying any attention to it. Jack's question needed an answer. Her first thought had been to respond with an irritated 'I don't know.' That thought originated from the simple black and white of their relationship of old. When Jack wouldn't call her anything that wasn't an insult. And Miranda had believed that the best place for Jack was an institution...or a body bag.

However, even from the depths of her exhaustion, Miranda knew that this was counterproductive. They were both still working out how to navigate their newfound respect. It was an uneasy truce. Despite all that they had been through together, Miranda still couldn't bring herself to believe that she cared about Jack...and vice versa.

She pushed away from the rail and turned around just as she heard Jack's foot start tapping impatiently.

"You're making even less sense than usual." Miranda left the platform with deliberate steps. Her shift was nearing an end. Grenier had been loitering in the CIC for the past fifteen minutes waiting to take command. She was hungry, tired, and in no mood for any sort of discussion with Jack. Scratch that, she was so tired that she couldn't be bothered to eat anything. "You know full well how this works. The Shadow Broker gives us leads, we follow them up."

"And with any luck we'll eventually catch up to that Batarian bastard - yeah I do know. That's not what I meant. How is this-" Jack pointed between the two of them "-going to work?"

An exasperated sigh escaped Miranda's lips. "If you're set on being a pain in my arse then you'll have to walk with me. You've got five minutes." She walked past the Normandy's XO with a curt nod. "The deck is yours, Grenier."

"Aye-aye, ma'am."

There was an unmistakable expression of relief on the young man's face as the burden of command settled on his shoulders. Miranda knew exactly how he felt. Command was a purpose that superseded everything else. An occupation that needed your full attention. The perfect antidote to wandering thoughts and a painful absence that threatened to consume you from within.

The only other thing that worked was a deep and dreamless sleep. And that was exactly where Miranda was heading.

"I won't play games with you, Jack" Miranda continued in the privacy of the elevator. Alone with just Jack for company, she could finally release the tension from her shoulders. She sagged against the wall. Her feet ached even though she wore standard issue combat boots as opposed to her heels of old. "Whatever it is that's on your mind, spit it out."

"Fine. I don't have a problem with the fact that we're not in the Alliance anymore, and that you're up in the Nest and strutting around the CIC issuing order like you're a Captain."

Miranda shook her head. "I'm not-"

"Cut the bullshit, Lawson. Yeah, I know you don't want people to call you 'Captain' but you're the fucking Captain all the same."

"You didn't tell me you had a problem with that." Miranda said the words more quietly than she intended. What she didn't want to admit to herself, was that she couldn't handle the thought of not having Jack's support.

Jack smirked and shook her head. "I had a fucking blast outranking you, especially at the start before everything went to shit. It was my job to constantly remind you that you were a shitty excuse for a human being, exactly what I'd wanted to do when we first met...well that and rip your smug face off." The smirk vanished. "Now I'm back to being one of the crew, and besides busting heads, I don't know how this is supposed to work. If I tell you you're doing a piss poor job of captaining this ship, are you going to kick me out at the next port?"

The elevator door opened. With a sense of relief, Miranda exited the cramped confines and was able to turn her back on the other biotic. She didn't want Jack to see the crestfallen expression on her face. Palming the door to the Nest open, Miranda wished she could leave Jack standing outside so she didn't have to listen to another word.

"You yourself said we're not in the Alliance anymore," Miranda replied in a taut voice. She made straight for the sofa and busied herself with the act of taking her boots off. Her fingers felt numb as she struggled with the laces. "Anyone that isn't happy under my command is welcome to leave the ship."

Jack had followed her, but she didn't take a seat. She stood, arms folded across her chest, determined expression on her face. "I'd like to see you try running the ship by yourself. Well, you and EDI, considering she'd be stuck here with you."

Miranda managed to wrestle one boot free, staring at it for a few moments before launching it at the opposite wall. The noise reverberated in her ears and she closed her eyes in an effort to block everything else out. She rarely gave in to such blatant outbursts of temper, but exhaustion had eroded her self-control. Nor did she harbour any reservations about her behaviour in front of Jack.

While her eyes were closed, Jack moved around the Nest, making no attempt to disguise her movements. A cupboard opened and the clink of glass was followed immediately by liquid sloshing into a glass. Jack helped herself to Miranda's booze without qualm.

"I would offer you a glass," Jack said, as though it was her stash and she was being generous. "But you're depressing enough already."

Miranda didn't bother to offer up a reply. She regretted letting Jack into her private space, especially as the other woman was busy making herself at home. Miranda eventually opened her eyes to find Jack lying on her bed, boots and all, drink in hand.

"So it's a mutiny then?" Miranda asked wearily. She tried to remember how she would have dealt with such insubordination when she was with Cerberus, but coherent thoughts were difficult to hold onto. The only thought cascading through her head with any clarity was that she shouldn't be in her current predicament at all.

"Don't be fucking dramatic or I'll have to start calling you Cheerleader again." Jack leaned back and folded one hand behind her head. "You think this crew would shit on Williams' memory by being anything less than loyal to you? That's not what this little convo is about."

"Then would you care to enlighten me? What is this conversation about, Jack? Other than preventing me from going to sleep of course."

"Not stopping you from doing shit." Jack leaned forward. She thumped the bed at her side in invitation, as though it was also hers to offer. "You can't force the rest of the crew to mourn Williams the way you do. She meant a hell of a lot to all of them, that's why they're still onboard, trying to get a job done. But it's pretty fucking difficult to do a job with a black cloud hanging over your head, waiting to piss on you any second. Williams is gone, it's shitty as hell, but you've got a crew to lead. So lead them. You need to keep crying your tits off? Fine, do it up here. You wanna fight it out? Hell, you know I don't need to be asked twice to go twelve rounds with you. I'm your sparring partner, whipping girl, whatever the fuck you want to call it. Take it out on me instead of the crew."

Miranda studied the earnest expression on Jack's face and felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes. She didn't deserve the offering, nor did she want to use Jack in that way. However the more Miranda thought about it, the more she realised that it was her only chance to restore some semblance of normality.

Without saying a word, she began stripping the rest of her uniform off in a perfunctory manner. The other boot came off easily. This time she didn't throw it at the wall. She was literally stripping in front of Jack, but there was nothing sensual about the act.

Eventually, clad in just her bra and underwear, Miranda set about tidying away the last remnants of Ashley's life. The clothes, even though they still carried Ashley's scent, went into the laundry hamper without fanfare. Throughout the whole process, Jack simply sipped her drink whilst watching with an expression between amusement and confusion on her face.

By the time that she finished, Miranda realised that it had been mercifully brief. However it brought none of the cathartic release that she had hoped for. Nor was she satisfied by a return to order. Standing in the middle of the Nest, she felt bereft. Her lack of movement allowed her body to grow cold, and gooseflesh pricked at her exposed skin. With a sense of resignation she headed towards the bed, whispering 'lights out' as she neared. Again not voicing her intentions, she peeled back the covers next to Jack and let herself slip into the welcoming embrace of her bed. Jack's presence was unavoidable beside her, but in a strange way it felt reassuring.

When her eyes slid closed, clarity finally returned to her thoughts. "I'm sorry you had to do this, Jack, but I'm...grateful. I can't promise that I'm going to be alright…because I'm not, but you have my full permission to call me out again if I'm being a dick."

Jack laughed merrily. "And there it is! Fuck, guess I should've recorded that shit for posterity."

The Nest descended into silence. Miranda supposed that she should ask Jack to see herself out, but the task grew less important as sleep drew her closer. Sometime later, she felt a slightly chilled hand pressed against her shoulder for a moment, before fingertips trailed down her spine. Miranda shivered in response. She didn't know exactly what she was expecting before she felt the covers being drawn up her back and tucked around her shoulders.

"Just don't lose sight of who you are."

Miranda had always thought Jack incapable of whispering, but here she was. Whispering.

"You're Miranda fucking Lawson, and you'll come out the other side of this. I promise you that."

Just before sleep claimed her completely Miranda was dimly aware of the weight beside her shifting, before disappearing altogether. It was eventually followed by the sound of the Nest's door opening and closing.

For the second time that night, Miranda felt bereft.

Months later. Blackheath.

Cold.

It was the first sensation that she felt. A bone-chilling, all-encompassing cold. For some time it was the only thought that she could process. Awareness of everything else only came as a result of the cold. Each of her limbs were stiff, almost unresponsive. She tested each one in turn, twitching fingers and toes. Although they responded, the movements felt distinctly odd. Almost as though her limbs had not been used for some time…or as though they belonged to someone else. Despite this, her body seemed to work after a fashion. It was her brain that did not. Other than an awareness of her physical form and the ability to process what she was feeling, there was nothing other than an all-encompassing fog. Important things that she knew she ought to know, felt out of reach. She experimentally flicked her tongue around the inside of her mouth. It felt like sandpaper.

There was one thing in particular, of its absolute importance she was certain. A name. Her name. Something so small, so vital, was missing altogether. Even though some instinct was trying to tell her to remain calm, a sense of panic took hold. She tried to force her eyes open, but her eyelids felt as though they were glued together. A sound emerged from her throat - a whimper of distress.

A rapid flurry of footsteps answered. Sharp heels striking hard tiles. Coming towards her. It was the catalyst that reminded her that she ought to be able to see, only to realise that her eyes weren't open. The panic intensified, lending her the strength to move with purpose. At the point that she struggled to rise, her eyelids opened and light flooded her vision. It was a dull light, full of nothing except vague shapes. The shape directly in front of her was moving, vaguely human-like as it reached for her. At the point that warm fingers pressed against her chilled skin, her entire body jolted. It was like an electric current coursing through her veins. Her lips moved again, but the only sound that emerged was a nonsensical whisper.

"Captain Williams...Ashley. Please remain calm. You're safe."

She didn't recognised the heavily accented voice, but that was immaterial. Ashley Williams. She finally had her name back. The name was accompanied by a sudden flood of memories. The intensity was almost painful, but she wanted to drink everything in - every last scrap of information that helped piece together a picture of who she was. First and foremost, she was a marine. She remembered different worlds, all associated with hardsuits and the terrifying thrill of combat. Eden Prime, Therum, Noveria, Ilos, Horizon. Then the faces of people she knew returned. Her parents were both dead, but she had sisters - Abby, Lynn...and Sarah. No, Sarah was dead as well. The memory of her sister's body was an unwelcome one. Ash clamped her teeth down angrily and tasted blood in her mouth. Someone was responsible for her baby sister's death. Anger gave her enough strength to sit up. The act caused her to grunt with effort, but movement was coming a little easier with each passing moment of consciousness. The warm hands were on her skin again, supporting her, helping her to lift her torso from the bed. One she was stable, the touch disappeared.

When her vision finally cleared, she was granted her first look at the other individual in the room. The voice and soft touch had made it all too apparent that it was a woman. Dark-haired and pale, the woman stood just in front of the biobed, hands now folded across her chest. The pristine white lab coat gave some indication that she was a doctor, or a scientist.

Through the fog, Ash tried to make her voice work. When it finally emerged it was scratchy, but clear. "Did...you put me back together?"

"Yes," was the simple answer. "You were in quite a state. Do you remember anything?"

Ash thought she recognised the accent, but it continued to elude her.

"Just bits and pieces. I was groundside. A planet called...Chasca. It was the middle of a firefight. I was angry for some reason. Then there was..." Ash remembered a wave of heat, a bright light overriding the display on her visor. She shook her head in frustration. "Nothing. There was nothing. I guess I was knocked unconscious. I owe you my thanks, ma'am."

The raven-haired woman's head cocked to one side, as though Ashley amused her. "Ma'am? How very…military of you."

Although Ash was still desperately trying to sort out exactly what had happened and where she was, for the time being she was unable to focus her attention on anything other than the woman standing in front of her. Before another question could cross Ash's lips, the woman hunkered down slightly, bringing her face directly level with Ashley's.

"I want you to do something for me, Captain Williams. Look directly at me for as long as you need. I want you to tell me if I am familiar in any way. Do I remind you of anyone, even an inkling?"

Ashley studied the woman's face exactly as she was ordered. Her raven black hair was cut in an almost precise fashion, perfectly framing her pale face. A pair of grey blue eyes regarded Ash directly. The gaze was clinical, almost cold, but with a strange hint of expectation. There was possibly something but, as much as Ash strained, she couldn't dredge up anything from the depths of her memory. Something however did click. The accent was Australian.

Almost a minute passed before Ash decided that she could reply with absolute honesty. "No, I have absolutely no idea who you are."

"My name is Dr Oriana Lawson."

The woman tilted her head to one side expectantly, as though the name might conjure some recognition where her face did not. Eventually, when Ash did not respond, her lips curled into a smile. Her teeth flashed white, but there was little warmth to be found. She stepped forward, moving even further into Ashley's space.

Oriana Lawson's proximity made Ash painfully aware of the fact that she was naked, but there was nothing to be done other than remain sitting on the edge of the bed. Oriana reached up to cup her cheek and Ash couldn't deny that the contact felt strangely reassuring on her chilled skin. Warmth flowed through her body, along with a myriad of questions.

"How long have I been out of action, Dr Lawson?"

"Long enough for your return to duty to be vastly overdue. You see, the Alliance needs you, Captain Williams, now more than ever. An old friend of yours has gone rogue, and we need your help putting her down before she brings disaster down on us all."

"Just point me in the direction of the target, ma'am."

Oriana laughed. The simple act had the effect of stripping away some of her icy exterior. It also made her look impossibly young. "Not so fast. There's still a ways to go yet, marine, but you'll have your chance at bringing down Shepard soon."

Shepard. The name sparked another torrent of memories of fighting alongside the famous marine. Ash also remembered the pain she'd felt when Shepard had died in the Crucible. How could a dead woman bring disaster down on anyone?

"Shepard was my friend once." The name felt familiar on Ash's tongue, but it also brought with it an unpleasant after taste. Almost as though it was a chemical reaction in her body. No further memories came. There was nothing, at least until she looked back to Oriana Lawson and felt an overwhelming urge to live up to some expectation, some purpose.

"She was your friend. Is that going to cause a problem, Captain Williams?"

Ashley only need a moment to think about it before shaking her head. "No, ma'am. No one is above reproach. If Shepard...or whoever she is, presents a threat to the Alliance, then I'll do everything in my power to see that she's stopped."

Oriana's smile widened. "Are you tired?"

"No." Ash was certain of her answer. She shook her head. "I've slept long enough, ma'am. I want to get back to work."

A/N: So despite my best intentions, this story has taken me over three years to finish. My heartfelt thanks to everyone who has stuck with me throughout, and to those who have joined in along the way. You're all suckers for punishment, but I'm glad to have shared the journey with you.

And it's not over, not yet. If you're game, the saga will continue in the third and final Fate story, Daughter of Fate.