Chapter Text
50 years old.
Mycerra stared down the holographic desk clock numbly.
She couldn’t believe she turned 50 today.
She ran her hands through her hair and pulled on the ends. The metal gray blue walls of her windowless office added to the dismay. Her eyes glossed over the Eastview Academy Managerial diploma, the portrait of Tia and her, and the abstract splatter art that cluttered the feature wall of her otherwise nondescript office.
The door slid open. Titus Deltano strode in, datapad in hand.
“Mycerra, do you have the report-“
She started.
He stopped and offered a polite smile.
“My apologies. You’re jumpy today.”
She breathed. “I’ve been having second thoughts about my old habits. The defiance, the fuck-yous, all of it.” She let go of her hair.
He sat down in the comfortable chair next to her desk. “Who would you be if you took away all of that? No one would recognize Mycerra Colton.” He placed the datapad on her desktop.
Empty silence hung between them in a pregnant pause.
“There comes a time in my life where I have to grow up and let go of the old resentments. Be a better role model for Tia.” She mumbled.
“There’s a fine line between human and turian and you don’t need to cross it.”
“Tia is 21 years old. The years fly when you’re not looking. You blink and they’re no longer this tiny little miracle.” She reminisced. “Want to have a drink before Tia and Aurellian ask you to lead me into a surprise birthday party I’m not supposed to be aware of?”
He cocked his head. “I did not tell-“
“Bohai told me. He dropped off his birthday present early. Couldn’t make it.” She answered and reached into her desk drawer. She produced a bottle of turian whiskey and human whiskey with two shot glasses and poured his first. “Apparently, Bohai said there’s something big on the horizon and a high ranking turian officer I don’t recall meeting wants me on a special assignment. I’ve decided I’m tired of this biotic consultant job and I’m going to accept.”
“What about Tia?” He poured her glass for her and pushed the shot glass toward her.
“She’s in school. She has several offers to attend different schools – Cyone, Palaven, Earth. She has everything a teenage girl could need.” Mycerra said. “Storm Coast Hastier College on Palaven. Lakewood University of New Mexico on Earth. Independence Valley College on Cyone. All are willing to discount her tuition. She’ll have tuition assistance on Cyone thanks to Lenaye. She’ll have tuition discounts on Palaven because the Primarch is sponsoring her. And the tuition costs of Lakewood University is incredibly manageable with the lowest paying job I qualify for on the Citadel.”
“She needs her father.” Titus protested.
Mycerra smiled and shrugged. “I may have divorced Amani but that doesn’t mean we don’t talk or don’t care about one another. I’m always going to be in contact with Tia.” She raised her shot glass to him. “To an ever changing future where good things are always possible with enough fortune, love, and hard work.”
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Happy birthday, kid.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Sorry your marriage didn’t work out.”
“It wasn’t Amani. It was her mother. Sometimes to cut the toxic out you have to give up the people who refuse to cut the toxic out. Besides, Della handles Lenaye well enough. Tia’s old enough to remind her grandmother what she will and will not tolerate. Lenaye might be accustomed to controlling everything in her life, but she knows where her power starts and ends.”
He settled back in his chair again. “Heartache heals.”
“Just like grief, right?” She joked.
“Exactly.”
They laughed and sipped their whiskey in peace.
“You ever think about moving back to Palaven? Spending your last leg of life there?” She asked over the last few sips. “It’s funny how much power a bit of soil has over people. What people are willing to do for it.”
Titus faintly smiled. “What we call home is allowed to change.”
“Where is home now, old man?” She dared to ask.
He refilled his shot glass. “Where I choose it to be, kid.”
She checked the holographic desk clock again.
“Well, if we don’t show up soon to the party, they’re going to think you told me about the surprise party and I convinced you to go have drinks at a bar instead.” She warned.
“Me? Have drinks with you at a public bar?” He laughed hard. “No. I’d suggest we stay here. No one can take and sell the pictures for profit, then slander and libel our names for their own political and social gain.”
She raised the last sip in the shot glass to him. “To everything and everyone that saw me to this day, but especially to you for sticking around and having faith in me.”
“I’ve seen worse examples of breathing persons.” He declared.
“I owe the reapers for giving me a family that wanted me around. I think we all should thank the reapers for that.” She sniffled and dabbed at her nose with her sleeve. “Did I tell you I made myself an alarm clock that has a reaper death horn as the alarm sound? I made it as a joke, but I never miss work.”
He swallowed the last two sips. “Only you.”
She put away the whiskey bottles and shot glasses. “Well, I can’t very well become entirely respectable. That would just tarnish the image I’ve cultivated over the years with the extranet and the media.”
Titus tidied up her desktop. The melancholy faded away into the distant horizon once more, always haunting her.
They caught a taxi to Titus’s apartment and practiced acting surprised on the way up. Titus restrained the urge to comfort her. She welcomed the emotional distance. The elevator dinged and the door opened to his floor. He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. She smiled up at him.
Titus led the way into his apartment and made small talk about the latest politics. Mycerra accessed the control panel for the apartment and turned on the lights.
“SURPRISE!”
Mycerra started in spite of knowing beforehand.
She turned around slowly, heart racing.
People packed into the luxurious apartment and spread out across the luxurious open floor plan. In the center of it, the sunken pit of a living room, Tia stood with Amani. “Happy birthday, Dad.” She bounced.
Mycerra ignored the urge to scold her and relaxed. She smiled at the large gathering, waved, and accepted the offered champagne flute from Aurellian.
“To the next 50 years.” She raised her flute to the group. “And to all the wonderful friends and family I’ve made over the years. We’re going to have fun tonight and I don’t want to hear another word about turning 50 from anyone. Not tonight. Tomorrow everyone can crack the jokes.”
The group split apart. Titus laid out fresh food on the kitchen counter tops, and Mycerra welcomed the hugs one after another. She ‘flirted’ with Haus; awkwardly embraced Pacyra; joked with Nihlus about Spectre Shepard taking over the newly built Normandy SR-3; made small talk with Champion about his travel plans to Thessia; swallowed Tia in a smothering hug while Amani bumbled through the most awkward ‘happy birthday’ since their separation; Della helped Antus practice good manners while mentioning the birthday gift several times; Titus and Aurellian double teamed with warm wishes and open encouragement to ‘be herself’. She meandered away from father and son a little dizzy from the mass socialization toward the only two individuals who didn’t ambush her.
She planted herself in front of them.
“I know everyone in this room but you two gentlemen. Mycerra Colton.” She held out her hand.
The angara waited for the turian to shake it. The turian properly shook her hand and raised his flute to her.
“You have my attention. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for prior approval from Titus.” She stated. “You have the floor.”
The turian bowed his head. “You may not remember me.’
She sipped her champagne, the whiskey easing her into relaxation faster. “Give me a hint. It’s been a long day of paperwork and politics and to be honest after a bit of whiskey at the office I’m probably not at my peak.” She wondered if mixing whiskey and champagne in the same night was a good idea. Maybe she’d burn it off by morning.
They traded looks, then faced her again. She prepared for the worst.
“On April 1st, 2186, a turian cruiser crashed towards Earth in the Northern American continent. Escape pods landed in Harretsburg, Pennsylvania, United States.” He relayed.
She ducked behind the burned out car. Her back protested the weight of the explosive backpack. A brute lumbered toward the nearest crater. She crept around the front of the car, M-3 in hand, and weighed the options.
The emergency pod door lifted. A turian stumbled out. A white cross tattoo lined up along his nose and chin.
He leveled his heavy rifle on the charging brute. Mycerra carefully slid the backpack off her back and unzipped the top. She pulled the pin on her last grenade, dropped it in the backpack and biotically whipped the backpack at the brute. It exploded on impact, the brute, turian, and Mycerra hitting the ground in unison. The brute lurched forward and collapsed once more.
Mycerra sauntered forward, M-3 leading the way.
Her translator spit to life. The turian lowered his heavy rifle. “Captain Maxim Decimus at your service. Where am I?” He asked breathlessly.
She snapped her fingers. “Captain Maxim Decimus. I always loved the name.”
“As I remember it, a backpack of improvised explosives, a pistol and biotics cleared a way for ten life pod survivors.” He clarified for the uninformed angara. “Red 2, formerly.”
She pointed out Champion and Haus. “Champion’s a lifer in UNAS. Haus got out five years back. Major Lucio was our fourth. Mr. Holden worked with us for a few months before he was killed in action. Major Lucio doesn’t stay in contact and I never saw the need to try to establish the open channel. A bit of a Blue Falcon in the end.”
“Blue Falcon?” The angara looked to Decimus.
She cleared her throat. “Major Lucio used us as bait, didn’t tell us. Mr. Holden died because Major Lucio volunteered Red 2 as bait for another mission to go off without a hitch. If he had told us, we could have prepared better for it. As far as I’m concerned he earned his Blue Falcon badge.” She explained flatly.
“An undesirable team mate.” The angara guessed.
She cleared her throat again. “Sure. We can call it that.”
“We all take orders, Ms. Colton.” Maxim Decimus grimaced. “I hear your desk job has left you dissatisfied these last few months.”
Mycerra rolled her eyes. “I have a conversation walking from point A to point B and it somehow ends up on the extranet.” She lamented.
“You have a famous brother-in-law.” The angara pointed out.
She listened to the way his voice played. She decided she liked it, could fall asleep to it. If only she could learn to trust herself again, she might consider a turian or angara as her next serious life partner – provided their mother wasn’t a controlling bitch who meddled in everything sunup to sundown.
She grimaced. “Yes, I do, and I do appreciate him, but the side effects have much to be desired.” She sipped her champagne again. “So. Why are you here? What do you want?”
The angara accessed a blue holographic sphere hovering above his wrist, much like one would an omni tool.
“I was recently promoted to Rear Admiral Lower Half.” Decimus proudly informed her.
“Congratulations.” She raised her flute to him. “Pacyra has lofty goals but I believe she’s held back by her career with Nihlus. Her choice, of course, and I’m fairly certain the Alliance doesn’t see a good reason to position her elsewhere, although married spouses shouldn’t be in the same chain of command. Nonetheless, they are a galactic icon.”
The angara cleared his throat. He fiddled with his hands. He caught his breath, counted, and breathed again.
“Ms Colton, on the behalf of the Angaran Space Fleet, we would like to welcome you aboard our primary scouting team. As part of the integration efforts of Angara homesteading in the ‘Milky Way’, we are recruiting team members from all species to partake in our efforts to continue enforcing and promoting the peaceful nature that has presided since the end of the Reaper War.” The angara seemed to read off.
She positioned herself between the Rear Admiral and the angara. “You don’t need a script. What’s the job entail?”
He stopped tapping at his omni tool. “I wasn’t trained for this.”
“It’s fine. I don’t bite.” She teased. “In fact, it helps if you know your audience. That wordy offer isn’t necessary for someone like me. I imagine there’s a record for me on file somewhere that you had access to, right? A record that said something about my character, right? If you tell me what the job entails, I can give you a yes or no.”
A quick reassurance from the Rear Admiral, and Mycerra wrapped her arm around the angara’s. They found a cozy spot on an expensive black and white couch; Khon De Sjar laid out what they required if she agreed to join their primary scouting team. She nodded along, took notes on her omni tool, and summed it up for him afterwards.
All in all, it sounded like a good job.
If she joined the primary scouting team, she’d be expected to travel with the assigned team and expected to jump into action at any time. The naïve Khon De Sjar promised her that they expected minimal violence. No one bought that – herself and the others listening in not so discreetly. She caught Tia eavesdropping under the guise of offering food and drink. Amani ambled over ‘to rescue’ Mycerra from boring political talk. Mycerra sent both of them away with a handwave and promise to speak with them after.
Titus, Nihlus, Pacyra, Haus, Haestrom and Champion clumped up to gawk.
Decimus casually joined them on the couch to add to the growing spectacle. He basked in the delicious tension swirling at the party.
“We can do a trial year, and if it’s not a good fit, I can find another job that isn’t a desk job.” She smiled and patted the angara’s shoulder. “See? Not so hard. Know your audience, Khon, know your audience. Have some food, grab a drink, enjoy yourself. It’s a party.” Mycerra left the two men alone on the couch.
She popped a wave to the group of six and gravitated to the food. Della hovered over the turian food platter trapped by indecision.
“Della, you look gorgeous as always. I hope Amani is going easy on you.”
“We know how she is. And we both prefer her the way she is.” Della finally picked tiny bread slices, sliced meats, and Tavian cheese. “I hope you don’t mind Antus and I tagging along.”
“No, no. I don’t mind you being here. I prefer it. We’re family. We always will be.” Mycerra insisted. “We choose who we keep in our lives, good and bad. No one’s perfect, including me. Speaking of Antus, where is the little man?”
“Sneaking snacks.” Della looked over her shoulder.
A turian child barely four feet tall sneaked a turian cake slice.
Mycerra chuckled. “Cute kid. Then they grow up into little monsters constantly giving you gray hairs.”
Tia tucked in under Mycerra’s arm. “I’m not that bad.”
“Oh? What about that fight with your friend? And the failing human biology grade?”
“I’m retaking the biology class.”
“And the falling out you had with your friend?” Mycerra asked delicately. “A friend you were best friends with for the last ten years. What happened? Boy troubles?”
“Dad! It’s not that serious.” Tia pouted.
Mycerra patted Tia’s head. “Alright. If you say so. Go eat. I’m sure you were holding off on eating until I showed up.”
“Uncle Titus warned you, didn’t he?”
“It was not Uncle Titus.”
“Then who?” Tia demanded petulantly.
Mycerra just smiled. “Go. Be merry.” She ordered in good humor.
Tia gave each of them a warning look before rescuing the rest of the turian cake slices from Antus.
“I’m glad you could make it, Della.” Mycerra smiled and caught sight of Amani and Pacyra watching them warily. “It’s always good to see both of you. Could you please find out why Tia and Hadria aren’t talking? A friendship like that shouldn’t spoil over stupidity.”
Della studied Tia pretending to ignore them. “I will add it to my list of to-dos.” She promised. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to Pacyra about Palaven politics. She always has the most up-to-date information. Spirits bless your brother-in-law.”
“Indeed. He’s a lifesaver.” Mycerra numbly agreed. She owed the man too much, life debts she could never repay. Della escaped with her plate of turian friendly foods to the two ladies. Mycerra jealously watched the trio converse freely with one another.
Champion and Haus cornered her after she made a plate of fattening food.
“Red, how have you been?” Haus threw his arm over her shoulder and hung on her.
She smiled. “Never been better.” She leaned on him and snacked.
“You moving up in the world?”
“Possibly. Getting rid of the desk job to be sure.” She smiled faintly.
He squeezed. “My gorgeous disaster, how could you think of space travel? I thought you were against it.” He asked.
She acknowledged the seriousness and accepted that the absurdity of traveling in space on a regular basis didn’t fit her character. She clearly established before now, on multiple occasions, that space travel was not part of her life unless she visited friends or work required it.
“I would normally be against it but I need to get over my fears and myself. Space is big and empty, but I can die just as easy on Earth or this giant space stations. I’m a third way through my life and I owe myself the opportunity to see more of the world.”
“That’s mature of you.” Champion said skeptically.
She shrugged and continued to snack.
“You alright? Your medication stop working?” Champion demanded in a lowered voice. “You’re not dying, are you? We can help you find a doctor that can help.”
She wanted to hug and kiss him. The genuine concern in his voice warmed her heart and soul and nothing short of a reaper attack would steal that from her. She held up her hand in solemn oath. “I, Mycerra Colton, am in great health. The medication is effective and I’m the one who divorced Amani, not the other way around. I am choosing to travel space because I need to invigorate my life and put the pep back in my step. I’m trying to grow and become a better person than I’ve been. Honest to Reaper, that’s the truth.”
Haus snorted. “Honest to Reaper.”
“Reaper help me, Haus-“
“Woman, you can’t keep using these phrases. It scares people.” He shook her playfully.
She shoved him back. “Hush, Haus. Champion, I’m sorry to hear about your brother. Did they ever figure out what caused the vessel collision?” She stuffed her mouth with more food and chewed with her mouth closed.
The older man leaned on the countertop, his face darkening. “They think it was the Jardaan but the Jardaan are denying it. Doesn’t help the Jardaan and the Angara are back and forth about the creationist lore or that the rumors of the Kett working with the Jardaan have merit. It’s a time bomb waiting to go off and there’s nothing we can do about it. Strangers bringing their problems to our front door, just like they did with the Reaper War.”
She sighed. “Yeah. I know.”
“I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate the Angara.”
“I know. I wasn’t accusing you.” She brushed off his defensiveness. “So, what’s the plan? Just grieve and move on?”
“Nothing more I can do.” Champion stated with practiced neutrality. She caught the wobbling in his voice before he covered it up. “I thought tonight was about celebration.”
She hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Absolutely it is. Let’s get drunk. I’m sure Titus doesn’t mind you staying until morning.” Champion chuckled nervously. “Haus, I swear if you don’t stop trying to steal my cheese, I’m going to cut your fingers off.” She smacked away his hand.
Haus retracted his hand guiltily. “I’ll make my own plate.” He relented.
She watched him suspiciously. “Right…right, right. Champion, let’s go get drunk.” She pulled along Champion to a comfortable couch to sit on.
Mycerra threw her legs across Champion’s lap and snacked on cheese and sliced meats. She alternated sips of champagne between snacking. Aurellian joined them mid-war story and relaxed on the other side of Champion. Titus escorted Haus back to the arranged seating and joined the mindless reminiscing. Decimus pulled up a chair to join the large group, commenting vaguely about his own lessons learned from the past. Eventually everyone but Amani, Della, Antus, and Tia joined the group. Amani called it early and dragged the two children and her second wife with her at 10:24 p.m.
They passed the proper bottles around the circle and swapped miserable war stories like kids traded cards. Haus passed out first. Aurellian made him a bed on the floor and removed the kitchen chair from the hodge podge collection of seating. Khon went next, passing out with nothing more than a pillow and a spot next to Haus. Champion and Mycerra soaked up their alcohol with snacks. They cleaned off the cheese and meat platter effortlessly. Titus willingly went to bed and promised to wake everyone when he woke in the morning. Aurellian reluctantly claimed the guest bed a half hour after his father’s exit. Nihlus and Pacyra acted like responsible adults; Pacyra the designated driver hailed them a taxi and left for a bigger, softer bed.
Decimus closed up the circle with Champion and Mycerra.
The wee midnight hour wore on them in ways they expected.
“This job you agreed to take. It’s going to take you places you’ve never been.” Decimus squared up with her. “The entire reason they’re offering you the job is security.”
She shrugged. “Nihlus has afforded me a great many opportunities. He’s also my curse. I have accepted this. I either represent him via proxy or people use me to use him. I expect that the angara have an angle that they’re playing.”
“That’s a shitty way of looking at it.” Champion grumbled.
“It’s the truth.” She finished off the champagne bottle. The floor swayed beneath her feet. She definitely wasn’t leaving tonight. “I know who my friends are. They’re usually the people I met before or during the Reaper War. Honestly, I’m surprised Nihlus hasn’t found out who tried to kill me last month.”
Decimus swallowed the turian brandy. “Excuse me?”
She nodded. “It’s the reason I no longer have a window office. Figure if they’re going to try, they’ll have to try a little harder.” She laughed and ran her hand through her hair.
“How can you – “ His hand swirled in the air.
She relaxed. “I think my former mother-in-law is behind it. Lenaye always had it out for me. It’s only a matter of time before she attempts it again.”
“Are you certain? Absolutely certain?” Decimus demanded with frightening firmness.
She looked him in the eye, or tried to, and caught her breath. “Ah…yeah. Amani was supposed to divorce me, not the other way around. I broke Amani’s heart but Lenaye destroyed our marriage and tried to kick me out of Tia’s life. Bitch deserves to die, but eh, who I am to be judge, jury and executioner?”
Champion pulled Mycerra onto his lap and held her by the waist. “We’ll find you a nice lady to keep you warm and protect your icy heart.” He joked drunkenly.
She curled deeper into his arms and chest.
Her eyes drifted shut, but not before she caught Decimus watching her intently. The world turned black and she sunk into bliss. She floated, and floated, and floated before being pulled back down. Dim light welcomed her to the world of a comfortable couch and thin blanket. She tried to sit up and instantly lay back down.
“Good morning. Your comrades are nursing their hang overs and the angara is eating breakfast.” Aurellian crouched into view.
She wished he sounded less chipper.
“What time is it?” She hissed, her head aching.
“Titus told the boss you were black out drunk from your surprise birthday party and that they shouldn’t be expecting you.” Aurellian held up a suspicious concoction in a metal cup. “This should help with that headache.”
Reluctantly, she reached for it. He curled her fingers around the cup and then sat her upright. It took a moment for mind and body to compute and cooperate. She downed the headache cure. Aurellian produced the vomit bucket just in time and held her hair. She retched and retched until she vomited an ungodly byproduct. He quickly placed the bucket on the floor and offered a paper towel. She cleaned her mouth with it, more clearheaded than before.
She leaned on her brother and closed her eyes.
She almost drifted off again.
“Want some eggs?” Aurellian whispered.
“Sounds perfect.” She tried to stand with his help. “Where’s – Where’s Decimus?”
“The Rear Admiral is asleep on the guest bed. Wouldn’t be proper if he left drunk.” Aurellian filled her in. “We’ll fix him up too. Had a good party?”
She pressed her face into his chest and closed her eyes again. Sleep, blessed sleep. She only wanted to sleep.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He swept her up into his arms. “Dad, I’m giving Mycerra your bed until breakfast is made.”
Titus waved from the stovetop. “Let her sleep. She has enough vacation to use for the next week. She’ll be fine to sleep it off.” He called Aurellian.
Champion and Haus listened half in and half out. Khon observed it all shyly.
“Want more eggs, Sjar?” Titus asked of the angara.
He looked at his plate of half eaten eggs, toast, and hash. “I’ll have nutrient paste when I return to the ship. I am grateful you cooked the meal.” He squeezed out a brief smile.
Titus whistled cheerfully. “Boys, you want some more eggs?” He turned his attention to Champion and Haus. They held out their plate shamelessly. He served up the rest of the planned food and seated himself across from the two men. Aurellian emerged wearing puke on his shirt. “Aurellian, once you change, I need to discuss an important matter with you and these gentleman, Mr. Sjar included.”
Aurellian placed the puke bucket in the bathroom, showered quickly, and emerged ten minutes later fresh and ready to face people and the world.