A blue sphere of energy erupted outside the Citadel, and a starship mad entirely out of angular pieces of blue and orange energy pulled itself from the void. There was no response from the Citadel; they had already been told to expect this arrival and not to interfere. Even then, though, none of their sensors detected the incoming vessel. They were simply not designed to track a vehicle with no mass and traditional engine.

A docking bay had already been prepared. Specifically, the bay selected was a repair hanger usually meant for heavily damaged vessels. Ships normally docked by universal umbilicals, but as the craft entered the hanger door to this particular bay began to close. Once it was sealed, the room pressurized. Once the atmosphere had been restored, two asari workers entered the room.

One of the workers looked up at the ship hovering silently in the center of the room. “What the hell is that thing?”

“I have no idea,” said the other, checking her omnitool.

As they were talking, the ship suddenly shifted and, in an instant, dissipated entirely. A human in asari armor and a small pony in similar quadrupedal armor dropped to the floor. The pair of asari had been expecting an actual ship, and now stood dumbfounded.

“What are you looking at?” demanded the human. Unlike most female humans, her hair was cut to barely a centimeter long, save for a pair of symmetrical areas where two tattoos were visible. Her eyes were silver and reflective in the concentrated, bright light of the repair bay.

Likewise, the small creature beside her was completely foreign. Most of the Citadel by now knew what ponies were, and many had seen films of Ambassador Rarity on the extranet- -but almost none had seen a pony in person. She was smaller than either of the asari expected, with enormous eyes and oddly colored blue and violet hair cut into a tight bob. Her body was covered in armor, but much of her back was apparently exposed- -and both of the asari engineers could recognize the extensive implants that had been built into her.

“You- -you can’t be here,” said the younger of the asari to the human. “Earth is currently under class four sanctions- -humans are not permitted on the Citadel!”

“Oh really,” said Jack, calmly. She raised one hand and ignited it with biotic energy that made both of the asari step back in surprise. “I suppose you’ll want to stop me, then?”

“Jack,” said the pony, “please don’t make a mess. They’re just doing their job. To be honest, I wouldn’t let you in here either.”

“Why? Because I’m just too likable?”

“No. Because everywhere you go something gets…well…liquefied. Or pulverized. Or do you remember that quarian?”

“What…what happened to the quarian?” squeaked the younger of the two asari.

“Never mind. And trust me, it’s not as though either of us want to be here. We were summoned by Councilor Garrus.”

The asari looked at each other. “They told us to expect someone, but I didn’t know that it would be…you.”

“Just get out of my way,” said Jack. She snapped her fingers and the two asari were lifted into the air. They cried out and clung to each other, even though the biotic levitation was relatively harmless.

“Jack!”

“What? It’s funny.”

“It is, actually.”

They walked past the floating asari toward the door to the room. Several more workers had arrived to watch, and they backed away from Starlight and Jack- -save for one krogan. The insignia on his uniform indicated that he was C-Sec.

“I suppose you want to try to stop me, too?” said Jack.

“I’m krogan, not stupid,” he said. “I’m the one they sent to take you two to the Councilor.”

“Really? You know, you could have stopped her before she did that to those two, right?”

“But it’s funny. Besides, they’ll come down eventually. They will come down, right?”

“Probably,” said Jack.

The krogan shrugged. “Good enough.” He lead them through the door and into the Citadel. “You know,” he said. “You tiny-horses are smaller than I thought you’d be.”

“Pony,” corrected Starlight. “And despite my size, I’m pretty sure I could take you on.”

“I don’t doubt it. But then I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, assuming I lived. And I hate paperwork.”

They reached an intersection, and Jack took a divergent path. She waved over her shoulder. “I’ll be back, Star. I really, really need a drink.”

The krogan did not even bother to try to stop her. He just turned in her direction and yelled out to her: “Try the donut shop on subsection fourteen!” He smiled at Starlight. “That’s the one great thing about being C-Sec. The donuts. I friggin love donuts. The hanar down there just don’t make them like the humans used to, though.”

“So there’s not a single human on the Citadel anymore.” Starlight already knew that, she just found it hard to believe. She had never had much in the way of dealing with the Alliance- -they were unpredictable and secretive- -and Jack actually knew precious little about the specifics of her homeworld or her species’ culture. On a personal level, though, she had never had much of a problem with them.

“Not that we know of. But you know how they are, they’re worse than vorcha. It’s a shame, really. I love humans. Especially the females. They’re just so tiny and adorable. And the males…their faces just have that look. Like they’re begging to be punched.”

Starlight sighed. She had hoped for a quiet day of surgery and listening to deep-space radio signals. Instead, she was talking to a krogan about the punchability of humans. She just hoped that whatever Garrus wanted, he explained it as quickly as possible.

The krogan led Starlight high into the Presidum Ring, to where a number of high-rent political offices were spaced out amongst perfectly cleaned street and manicured areal gardens. The air smelled of flowers, and an artificial sky provided ample light.

Outside the door, a heavily armored hanar was floating lazily. At first, Starlight found this strange- -but then realized that there was only one hanar that wore that much armor or carried that many guns.

“Si’y?”

The hanar shifted. “Friend Starlight Glimmer,” he said, nearly excitedly. Starlight approached and was unexpectedly wrapped in a crushing hug. “It has been a significant amount of time since this one has seen you!”

“Too- -tight!”

“Oops.” Si’y released her. “Apologies.”

“Not...a problem,” gasped Starlight, coughing into her hoof. “I thought you moved on to organized mercenary work?”

“This one has. It is currently guarding a VIP. Securing the perimeter right now.”

“You mean looking at the flanks of passing asari.”

“No. Surely not. This one is a professional.” Despite the inability for his speech-processor to convey it, Starlight realized that he was being sarcastic in the most deadpan way possible. She laughed, and while she did, noticed that one of his tentacles was missing.

“Si’y, your tentacle. What happened?

“It is…a long story.”

“Can we hurry this up?” said the krogan behind Starlight. “My shift ends in half an hour, and I don’t want to miss my soaps.”

“Right,” said Starlight, nodding as Si’y waved.
The door to the office that Si’y was guarding id open and Starlight was lead into a room that she knew was much more elaborate than anything that the Council would normally be willing to give Garrus. Almost as soon as she entered, though, she found herself staring into a pair of large blue eyes level to her own.

The white unicorn blinked, and Starlight immediately understood why Jack had come to dislike Garrus so much.

“Nope,” she said, turning around. “Whatever it is, I’m not doing it.”

“Starlight!” called Garrus, standing from the chair he was sitting on. “Wait!”

“Councilor,” said the white unicorn, her voice reeking of pretention with its unpleasant false accent. “How did- -who is this?”

“Ambassador, this is Starlight Glimmer. Starlight, this is Rarity of Equestria.”

“I don’t care! You lost me at ‘Equestria’.” Starlight glared at Garrus. “I knew you were a politician, Vakarian, but I didn’t think you could sink this low to work with THEM.”

“Excuse me,” said Rarity. “I believe we may have gotten off to a bad start. I didn’t realize that there were any ponies in Council space. You weren’t listed on any of our reports- -”

“Of course not,” snapped Starlight, approaching Rarity and forcing her to reverse nervously. “Because you don’t even consider me a pony!”

“I don’t- -I don’t understand, Star- -”

“DON’T use my name! What, you don’t recognize me?” Starlight pointed at the implants on her back. She had installed much of the more recent ones herself, but the older, deeper ones had not been her choice. “I’m just a Core!”

Rarity blinked. Her eyes flitted to Garrus nervously, and then back to Starlight. “Darling, you must be mistaken.”

“Mistaken?” growled Starlight.

“Yes. Cores…they’re not ponies. You couldn’t possibly be a Core. They can’t talk, or walk around. They can’t even leave their containment cells. It’s one of the very first things we learn in school- -”

Rarity suddenly choked as Starlight wrapped a band of biotic energy around her neck and lifted her into the air. Rarity struggled and choked, using her biotics to try to escape. Her ability was almost insignificant compared to Starlight’s, and it did nothing.

“You’re going to stand there and tell me that? After Equestria took TWENTY YEARS of my life?! TWENTY YEARS in a tube of amniotic gel, unable to move, to see, to THINK? While you stand here with a perfect body without a SINGLE implant sticking out of your flesh? I should tear of your horn and shove it down your throat!”

There was a click as an enormous pistol was placed against Starlight’s head. She glanced up at the krogan guard.

“Please don’t make me do it,” he said, calmly. “Just put down the ambassador.”

Starlight looked up at the krogan, momentarily considering her options. A side-effect of the neural implants she had accumulated was vastly enhanced reflexes, and she knew that she could crush the weapon in his hand before he even got a chance to fire. Likewise, she could easily snap Rarity’s neck. It would not even be hard, and as an Equestrian, she deserved it- -but instead, Starlight just took a deep breath and set the white pony back on the floor.

Rarity gasped and choked, grasping at her throat with her gloved hooves. Her hair and her elegant dress were now awry, and Starlight felt slightly better. Garrus nodded to the krogan, and he holstered his pistol.

“I like her already,” said a voice. Starlight looked up to see a small colt sitting next to where Garrus had been seated. He was a pony, but his body appeared translucent and faceted as though he had been carved out of living crystal.

“And you are?” asked Starlight.

“Jade wing, of the Crystal Empire.”

“You do realize that that’s a mare’s name, right?”

“No it isn’t!” He jumped down off his chair. The distance was such that Starlight wondered how he had gotten onto it in the first place. He looked at Rarity and smiled. “But anypony who detests the Equestrians as much as you do is clearly my friend.” He turned to Starlight. “So you are a Core, then?”

“I used to be. Not anymore.”

“Terribly archaic technology, isn’t it? With all their resources, the Equestrians still cling to technology over a millennium old.”

“And you don’t?”

Wing shook his head, smiling. “Such things are unnecessary when you embrace the love of the One True Princess.”

“Crystal- -heretic- -” wheezed Rarity. Garrus knelt beside her to help her. She brushed him away and cleared her throat. “I don’t know WHAT is wrong with you, but I do not approve of this! I- -I- -DISSAPROVE of this!”

“No one cares what you think, unicorn.”

“Actually, we do,” said Garrus. “She is the ambassador.” He stood up. “Starlight, I need your help.”

“Vakarian, I’ll do a lot of things. I HAVE done a lot of things. Some that I’m not proud of. A lot that I’m not proud of. But you know what Equestria did to me. You can let them do their own dirty work.”

“It’s not Equestria that needs your help,” said Wing. “It is us.”

“You?” said Starlight. “I’ve never met you. What could you possibly need from me?”

“It does not need to be you specifically, but you will be a good fit. My home is in trouble. The Crystal Galaxy will soon be under attack by the Equestrians- -”

“No it will not!” snapped Rarity. “You dirty little liar! If I had a bar of soap- -”

“Then perhaps you would not smell as though you fell into a vat of fermenting vanilla? Not that it matters. I came to this Citadel to ask for help, but the aliens refuse to help me. Not until the threat has been confirmed.”

“There is no threat,” said Rarity. “Garrus, I don’t know why you are putting up with this.”

“I don’t know why he puts up with YOU,” said Starlight. “You’re really annoying.”

“ANNOYING?!”

“Rarity,” said Garrus. “Calm down.” He put his hand on her head, and she blushed profusely. Garrus directed his attention at Starlight. “Starlight, why don’t you come with me?”

Starlight hesitated as Garrus walked to the door, waving away the krogan guard. She considered just teleporting herself to Jack’s location and leaving, but decided to go with him.

“What do you want?” she asked as they walked into the hallway outside to an area overlooking the Presidium gardens far below. It was late evening, and the artificially projected sky overhead was dimming with an impressive but subtle synthetic sunset. “Really. What do you want from me?”

“It’s simple,” said Garrus. “Well…no. No it isn’t. But your job would be simple. I just want you to go to the Crystal Galaxy. Wing says that there is an impending threat, and I don’t know if I believe him. I want you to see if there really is a threat, and see if they really do want our help. It’s not a complicated mission. Just a courier run.”

Phrased like that, it sounded much better. Starlight was just annoyed that Garrus had not phrased it like that from the start. “And you would give me what I need? Just for that?”

“I didn’t say the crystal ponies would be happy to see you.”

“You do realize I’ll just use the implant to attack Equestria, right?”

“I didn’t hear that,” said Garrus. “And, frankly, I’m afraid to think about what the salarians would do if they got their damp little fingers on it. It’s better for everyone if it is ‘destroyed’.”

“You really are turning into a Councilor, aren’t you?”

Garrus smiled- -or shifted his face in a way that was as close to a smile as turian anatomy could get. He leaned over the railing and looked down at the manicured artificial forest below. “Maybe I am.”

“It definitely sounds like something I can do, though.”

“So you’ll take the job?”

Starlight nodded. “I wasn’t doing anything anyway.”

Garrus pushed back from the railing. “Great. Come on.”

“To where?”

“There’s something I want you to take with you.”

The sound of gunfire filled the air as Garrus led Starlight into a dimly lit room in one of the lower areas of the Citadel. It was certainly not an abandoned room; in fact, it looked professional and military despite being completely empty. As far as Starlight could tell, access was almost completely restricted. Garrus, of course, was a Councilor. Nothing was out of his reach.

He led Starlight further into the suite to what appeared to be a firing range. Standing at it was the area’s only occupant: a slim female turian unloading projectile after projectile into a target at the farthest setting with a Spectre pistol that looked almost oversized in her small, three-fingered hands.

Garrus paused and allowed the other turian to finish. She ejected the used thermal clip from the gun, grabbing it as it flew out and dropping it into a bucket beside her. She set the gun down beside her, and the target retracted. Starlight saw that every shot she had taken had impacted the exact same spot.

The turian turned around, and Starlight saw that both her eyes were slightly luminescent prosthetics. She promptly saluted.

“Councilor Vakarian!”

“At ease, Spectre.”

The turian relaxed, and she looked down at Starlight. “What is she doing here? This room is off-limits to non-Spectres.”

“This is Starlight Glimmer. You’re going to be accompanying her on a mission.”

Starlight and the turian spectre both looked at Garrus. “WHAT?” they demanded in unison.

“You didn’t say that I would have to take one of your grunts,” said Staright. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

“And I’m not going to babysit some quadruped mercenary. Councilor, with all due respect, you know I’m better than this.”

“Starlight, meet Beri Tyros,” sighed Garrus. “The youngest Spectre in turian history. And one who reports to the Council. Which I’m on.”

Starlight snickered. “You’re name’s Berry? That’s adorable.”

“Tyros,” snapped the female turian. “My name is TYROS. And at least my name is not a florid spacefaring reference. Were your parents hippies?”

Starlight looked up at Garrus. “She’s too green. I’m not working with her.”

“Her record is extensive and her performance excellent,” said Garrus. “More or less. And trust me, you’re going to need a crew if you’re going into hostile space.”

“I don’t need a crew.”

“No, you do.” Garrus pointed to the extensive scars on the right side of his face. “When you work alone, there’s nobody to pick you up when you finally get knocked down. What if Jack gets shot? Or you? You need someone to watch your back. You can pick whoever you want, but I NEED a Council presence. And Tyros needs the experience.”

“The experience I need is in the Perseus Veil. Send a krogan guard.”

“Nope. I’m sending you. Unless you’d like a desk job, maybe? Valena could certainly use someone to get her tea in the mornings.” His expression hardened. “And if I were any other turian, I would have just knocked you so far down in rank you would never climb your up past private. You’re not a salarian, Tyros. I may not be a military commander, not really, and I’m the last one who should be telling you this, but if you want to keep that Spectre badge you need to respect the chain of command.”

Tyros stiffened. “Yes, sir.”

“Now. If you will excuse me, I have to deal with a diplomatic incident concerning the Equestrian ambassador. Tryos, get your stuff, choose your guns, and don’t kill the pony.”

Garrus swiveled and left the room as quickly as possible. Starlight and Tyros were left looking at each other.

“Buck,” said Starlight. “I did NOT want to have to deal with this. A simple mission, he tells me. Crap crap crap.”

“I don’t like it either,” said Tyros, “but you should consider yourself fortunate. I’m the best turian Spectre available. Perhaps even the best since Saren.”

“I don’t care if you’re Johnathan Shepard. I don’t want a turian sidekick…or, in your case, most of a turian sidekick.”

Tyros’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m a pony. A Core. I’m not nearly as limited as your kind. I scanned you the moment I came in here. The arms, legs, almost all of your internal organs. Very little of you is organic, isn’t it?”

For the first time, Starlight saw Tyros smile. “It is rare that someone notices.”

“What I noticed is that those aren’t all turian systems. I know technology. Asari, salarian, geth…you even have several synth parts in you.”

“I’m stronger, faster, and more durable than a fully organic turian. The greatest Spectre in history was a cyborg too. You can’t be the best with the default settings.” She glared at Starlight. “Will that be a problem?”

“For me, no. I don’t care. Just as long as you stay out of my way.”

The Citadel itself was actually somewhat pretty. Starlight would never have admitted it to anyone, but she actually rather liked it. There were of course the inevitable stares of passerbys, but the air was clean and warm and the sights were impressive. In was a welcome change from having to constantly project and command a starship. There was a strange feeling, though, that she could not shake. It was as though while flying through space had become easier, walking had become more difficult.

Starlight rubbed the back of her head. Amongst the Equestrian ports was yet another scar, this one fresh. While Beri had been preparing her various unnecessary weapons, Starlight had stopped to install her most recent acquisition. The pain had been intense- -it always was- -but the connection to her brain had been a success. The world seemed to be moving in slow-motion, and her tech was more responsive with far greater capacity than it ever had been.

Beri was waiting outside with a fresh suit of heavy armor that covered her robotic limbs in thick, pastel-pink fabric.

“Really, Berry?” said Starlight. “Pink?”

“My name is not ‘Berry’. And it’s the only color that turian heavy armor comes in.”

“Do you even need armor? Most of you is plastic and steel.”

“Yes. Expensive plastic and steel.” Tyros fell into step with Starlight. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“What would you rather be doing?”

“How about fighting baterian pirates? Or investigating secret plots and rooting out Alliance spies? You know, things that are actually important.”

“Then why don’t you go do that? You’re a Spectre.”

“I…don’t have a ship.”

Starlight blinked. “Seriously?”

Tyros glared at Starlight. “Not all of us our independently wealthy. And with the budget cuts, well…” She trailed off. “And yes, I did check your accounts,” she said. “ALL of them. Baterain financial unions, volus off-world banks, deep-encrypted blackline accounts. Either you’re paranoid, or you’re into some deep territory.”

“Impressive,” said Starlight. That was actually a lie; her tech-connection had alerted her to Tyros’s inquiries and she had managed to hide all but the most pedestrian accounts. There was no point in having Beri knowing about just how much money Starlight had accumulated in five years- -or how she had managed to get it. Funding an oncoming revolution was not cheap.

Across the way, leaning on the wall outside of a café, Starlight spied Jack. She had, just as Starlight had expected, taken off her shirt and was now glaring at anyone walking past her. Her body was covered in tattoos, but Starlight could tell that she was experiencing the effects of aging. While Starlight was not sure how long ponies normally lived, she knew that humans had comparably short lifespans. Jack had already used up at least half of her time.

“Jack!” Starlight walked over to her friend.

“I am so drunk right now,” said Jack, noticing Starlight. “Also, I may have blown a few holes in the bar. And a salarian. Just thought you should know.” Her silver eyes shifted to Tyros. “And where did you find this strawberry? Are you cheating on me, Star?”

Starlight groaned. “Garrus assigned her to me.”

Jack frowned. “So you took the job.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re Jaqueline Naught,” said Tyros, her hand slowly moving to one of her many guns. “Do you even know how many systems you’re wanted in?”

“No. Nor do I care.”

“Jack and I work together,” said Starlight.

“Seriously? You work with HER? You do realize she once crashed a hanar space station into a moon, right? Not to mention the fact that humans are BANNED from the Citadel.”

“Yes. Petty vandalism. And public nudity. I know. I also know that she just about the only person I trust. And if you don’t like it, go cry to Vakarian.”

“Just try to pull that gun,” said Jack. “Go ahead.”

For a moment, Starlight through that Beri would actually try it- -but instead, she just groaned and turned away quickly. “The things I do honor,” she grumbled.

“Star,” said Jack once Beri was out of earshot. “What exactly did you agree to do? I have a bad feeling about her.”

“Yeah. I know. Basically, I agreed to run a fact-finding mission. Into hostile space.”

“Crap. But that’s just about par for the course for us.”

“Vakarian seems to think we should acquire a crew.”

“That depends on how hostile you think this is going to get.”

“I don’t know. I have no idea what to expect.”

Jack looked at Tyros, who seemed to be mumbling angrily to herself. “We could get some mercenaries.”

“No,” said Starlight, firmly. “The Council has decided to ally themselves with Equestria. I don’t want somebody who will stab me in the back once we get out of distress signal range. It’s bad enough having HER. I need someone who, you know, actually wants me to survive this.”

“You already have somebody in mind?”

“A few.”

“Are you coming or not?” snapped Beri. “You may not realize it, but I have things to do that don’t involve dealing with you two. Or are you two going to start snogging and force me to watch?”

“Can I kill her?” asked Jack.

“Not yet,” said Starlight. “Let’s just go along with it. For now.”

Garrus and the crystal pony were already waiting outside the hanger when Starlight returned.

“What?” she said.

“You are going to need this,” said the crystal pony. He produced a small and narrow octahedral crystal.

“What is it?”

“My ship’s central computer. It contains the IFF necessary to link your relay system to ours, as well as internal codes that will probably prevent my people from destroying you on sight.”

“Probably?” said Jack.

“You’re not coming?” said Starlight.

Wing shook his head. “They won’t let me leave.”

“In case something goes wrong, we need him here,” said Garrus. “As collateral.”

“I shall also hold them to their promise.”

Starlight levitated the crystal out of Wing’s hoof. It was surprisingly heavy, and she could feel that despite looking like a semi-transparent piece of pinkish quartz it was actually infinitely complex.”

“And you expect her to just be able to read that?” said Beri.

“I will manage,” said Starlight. “Thank you.”

“After you get outside our galaxy, you’re not going to have direct contact with us,” noted Garrus. “So collect whatever you need, get there, and get back as quick as you can.”

“I know what I’m doing,” said Starlight, pocketing the crystal. “Just remember to keep up your part of the bargain.”

She walked past Garrus and into the hanger. As before, it was empty.

“Shouldn’t there be a ship in here?” said Beri, looking around.

Jack grabbed Beri roughly by the shoulder. “Hey!”

“Stand here,” said Jack, pointing. “And don’t move.”

“I don’t understand what that’s supposed to do,” said Beri, following the order regardless. Jack walked across the hanger to a different spot and nodded to Starlight. Starlight nodded back, and concentrated. Her mind linked to her numerous implants, and she could feel her body vibrating with biotic energy as tech algorithms began to pour through her mind and into her omnitools.

Blue light sprung around her, followed by rapidly hard-light tech projections. She felt her spine link to the constructs, interfacing her Equestrian Core implants to the machine of her own creation. In less than five seconds, she summoned a ship around herself and her two companions.

Once the structure was complete and validated, Starlight forced her biotic energy through the implants and tech systems on her back. She felt herself- -now part of the ship around her- -rise from the floor. The hanger door opened, but Starlight no longer needed it. Instead of flying into space, she brought up the starchart and identified the dimensional coordinates of her destination. Focusing on that distant point in space, she generated a singularity around herself- -and vanished as she teleported across the galaxy.

Ever since humans had been exiled from the Citadel, many of the restaurants had gone downhill quickly- -but that did not stop one particular krogan C-Sec officer from stopping after his shift to gorge himself on tasty fried dough. He was so preoccupied with his mountain of donuts that he almost did not notice as asari approached his table and took a seat across from him. Of course, once he looked up, he was glad he did. She was a pale turquoise color with a beaming smile.

“Hey there,” she said.

“Hi,” said the krogan, wiping away Boston crème from his mouth. He did not know what kind of an animal a ‘Boston’ was, but its cream was delicious.

The asari looked at the donuts. “Wow. You really like those, don’t you?”

“No. C-Sec pays me to do this,” said the krogan, sarcastically. “I love donuts. They’re not as good as the ones the humans used to make, though. Which means I have to eat at least twice as many.”

“Any particular flavor?”

“Every flavor. Except plain. I mean, who eats plain donuts? Wait. Probably a salarian.” He paused. “I wonder if they could make a salarian flavored donut…”

The asari giggled, and the krogan smiled. His day was going much better than he had expected it would. Asari were not as attractive as humans, but when paired with donuts, they were indeed quite excellent. “You know,” she said, “I have something else you might like.”

“What?” said the krogan, smiling.

“Have you ever heard of bacon?”

The krogan’s eyes widened. “You have bacon? Like, real, really real bacon? I LOVE bacon!”

The asari smiled, and the krogan could not help but shiver. He was not sure why, but a strange and nameless feeling had suddenly come over him. Something was wrong, and he could tell on an instinctual level. Perhaps it had something to do with the way this particular asari smelled: like ozone and decaying meat.

“Well, how would you like to try some delicious…ocean bacon?”

The krogan’s eyes suddenly went blank. He jerked and convulsed slightly as the chip implanted deep within his brain overwrote his conscious functions, taking control of his nervous system. He dropped the donut he was holding and his mouth fell open. The donut shop was crowded, though, and no one seemed to notice his distress.

Further disguising the incident was the way the asari leaned over the table, kissing the foaming and mostly inert krogan. As she did, the holographic coating covering her body momentarily shifted, revealing the gray-skinned individual beneath the mask.

She leaned back, and the krogan spoke in a weak monotone.

“Awaiting orders,” he said.

The “asari” smiled, and spoke in a voice that was much lower and raspier than the falsetto she had used before. “I want you to tell me exactly what Garrus said to that pony. Every. Last. Detail.”

Garrus closed the door to his suite in the apartment that he shared with Falare. It was not unusual for him to come home to find her reading in the common room. Now, though, it was far too late at night. The Citadel’s night-cycle was nearly half finished. Almost all of the last five hours had been spent with the most high-grade diplomatic persuasion available just to calm Rarity down. She had eventually retired to her ship, but not before wearing every single one of Garrus’s nerves to their very bottom and, somehow, getting him to agree to take her to dinner.

He sighed and put his forehead against the door. His head was pounding, which was not a good sign. Humans, with their complex sinuses and facial muscles, often developed headaches- -but turians did not. Garrus was not sure if his advancing age was to blame, or if the fault rest squarely on the narrow and well-dressed shoulders of a particular white unicorn.

Eventually, he turned away and made his way deeper into the suite. Normally when he came home the first thing he would do was change out of the uncomfortable Councilor uniform he was forced to wear and put on something in a more pleasant shade of blue. Sometimes he would even walk around completely naked if Falere was away on business. On this night, though, he went straight for the turian brandy. He poured himself half a glass, and, after a moment of consideration, filled the glass. Then, remembering that he had an early morning scheduled with the ambassador, he just took the whole bottle.

The suite was not small. In fact, it was much more luxurious than the cramped batteries he was used to inhabiting. The rent was incredible- -or would have been, if Councilors had to worry about that sort of thing. Technically, he could even have had a much larger residence higher up in the Presidium Ring. Instead, though, he had chosen to live with Falere, mostly because he had trouble dealing with the loneliness that came from his position. Often, if he was left alone, he would find himself spending every minute wishing he was back on the Normandy with his friends.

He entered a deeper room, intending to drink himself into unconsciousness. The room was dark, save for the light that came in through his window from the Serpent Nebula and the silently passing ships’ running lights and the glow of his aquarium where one very old Khar’shan snapping eel looked through the glass expectantly.

As Garrus put down his alcohol and went to feed his fish, he heard a click as the locks to his room suddenly snapped closed. Across the room, without any intervention, the holographic receiver suddenly flickered to life. Blue specks of light swarmed up from the projector, silently resolving into a complex and semi-abstract representation of something like a floating arthropod with two enormous, glowing blue eyes.

“You know, you could at least let me feed the eel,” said Garrus, pressing the button to dispense its food. “You know how they get when you don’t feed them.”

“You sent the pony,” said the Benefactor.

“It’s my prerogative. Why, you don’t approve?”

“I neither approve nor disapprove. I trust your judgement.”

“Do you? Sometimes I’m not so sure.”

The Benefactor continued to stare from across the room, barely lighting the shadows surrounding the projection alcove. “I do, Garrus. You know I always have.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I begin to grow concerned when any of my mass relays are destroyed.”

“The ponies do have a tendency to do that.”

“It is not a joke. As you know, we are always watching. And we saw what came through.”

“The crystal pony claims that it was Equestrian. Rarity claims it doesn’t even exist.”

“It does. And it is not pony. At least…”

Garrus’s gaze sharpened. “At least what?”

“I am not sure.”

“That’s not like you.”

“I know. And that is why I am concerned. As such, I will be launching an inquiry of my own.”

“It’s probably halfway to the Crystal Galaxy by now. Even you can’t go that fast or far.”

“You underestimate how far my influence reaches. It…sometimes it even frightens me, just how far we reach…”

Garrus took a long sip from his brandy. “Do you ever think you made the wrong choice?”

The Benefactor did not answer that question. He simply watched, and then his hologram slowly faded away. Garrus watched him go, and then listened for the locks on his door to open. He wished that Falere were awake, so that he could talk to her- -but instead, he just began to drink straight from his bottle.