Ryouko raised her wine glass into the air in toast, peering out over the assembled guests and wondering just how her life had ended up like this.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming to this, my twenty-first birthday party, old friends and new alike," she said, nodding in turn at her school friends, friends from her later internship, and friends from Nazra Invictus. She had considered inviting some of her more… alien friends, but travel between Council space and Human space was still a long bureaucratic adventure, so she had deferred that meeting until later. Instead, they'd be getting nice holographic cards that would no doubt be dissected by Salarian scientists for weeks before arriving at their destination.

"It has been quite a few years since I met some of you, what seems like forever ago on a very different world. I know it wasn't easy for some of you to make it to Nazra Invictus again, so I appreciate the effort you've all taken. It's a very different planet than it once was."

She meant it. Between the military facilities spreading like a spider's web on the planet's surface, the archaeological sites and research labs that accompanied, and the huge population boom, there was very little left of the quiet research station of a world she had arrived at so long ago. It was difficult to imagine that there had once been only one MSY team, and that they had been so secret, not with the billboards that now dotted the colony promoting the MSY or—more frequently—some ridiculous commercial product being promoted by some celebrity magical girl.

"In any case, we're all older now, and hopefully wiser. Let's enjoy ourselves while we're here."

There was the clinking of glasses, and she drank her wine, local vintage. It was a short speech, but she wasn't one for much talking. Plus, she couldn't reflect on getting older without reflecting on the many aliens for which getting older meant getting closer to death.

"Jeez, I can't believe Ryouko's making speeches like this now," Emma said to Ayane as they set their glasses down. "Seems like yesterday we were making those speeches, eh?"

"Yeah, it's pretty surreal," said Ayane. She glanced over as the obligatory cake was wheeled out, then turned back to Ryouko. "So twenty-one huh? You know, Ryouko, Emma and I got married when we were only a few years older than you. I think it was at my birthday party when you proposed, right?"

Emma nodded, sipping at her wine again as she cast an eye out for their daughter. Little four-year-old Jiuliana seemed content reading a children's book in the corner. It had a dinosaur in a dress on the cover.

"Are you and Asami thinking about anything long term yet?" Ayane continued, unable to restrain a grin in anticipation of imminent flustered kouhais. "I mean, in fairness, you've only just turned twenty-one, but you have been together for seven years now."

Ryouko diverted her eyes, cheeks flushing in that quiet version of embarrassed that she had sometimes.

"Well we've thought about it a little," Asami said. "It's, you know, we're pretty young. We can probably start thinking about it, I guess."

They had, in fact, talked about it a little, mostly in the form of Asami bringing up the topic and Ryouko dodging it. Ryouko had a suspicion that talk was going to catch up to her again, soon, and the last thing she needed was Ayane and Emma feeding the fire.

She didn't know what to think about it all.

"I'm not sure we're ready for something like that," Ryouko said. "But I guess it's true I couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else."

She reached over and grabbed Asami's hand, even as she blushed and hid her face. It was… one of her cuter expressions.

Someone cleared their throat.

"Well, you guys are still on Earth, right?" asked Tricia Wu as she popped a piece of fruit into her mouth while cake, sliced and plated by a drone, began arriving at people's places. "You still have to finish your internship at Prometheus and submit your papers, right? So it's not like getting married would really mean anything unless you managed to have a kid somehow."

"Ehhh, I wouldn't say that's true," protested Miroku Saotome, one of the girls Ryouko's age from her lab group at the Prometheus Research Institute. "There's more cultural significance than that."

"I mean, it depends on who you ask, right," said Sasuke Watanabe. He also was in Ryouko's research group, though a little older and intending to go for a tenured position at the Institute. "It's not terribly cut and dry."

Tricia gave Ryouko and Asami a dry look as Sasuke and Miroku began to bicker in what seemed to be a familiar pattern. It had been the rapid conclusion of all the magical girls present, shared via telepathy, that Sasuke and Miroku really ought to be dating.

"Well, cultural discussions aside," said Nadya Antipova as she clanked a bottle of vodka onto the table. "Are we here for a party, or are we here for a party?"

"Er, isn't it a bit early in the evening for that?" asked Ruiko. She pulled her glass of wine a little closer reflexively.

"Nonsense," said Nadya. The bottle opened with a pop. "A party with no vodka is no party at all."

"You know, I've never had this before," said Chiaki as she peered more closely at the label. "I think they served this at a recital once, but I had to perform and didn't have any. I like Zimneye Vodka, from Moscovia, though."

"Oho, you have good taste!" said Nadya as she began distributing glasses. "Zimneye is very nice, I agree. We'll see how you enjoy this one."

"How are your guys' research going though?" Emma asked Ryouko and Asami as the conversations diverged. "I wish we could keep in touch more, but being a parent is apparently stupidly time-consuming. I swear Jiuliana already has implants that let her not sleep."

The group shared a chuckle. Ryouko privately added more reasons not to have children quite yet onto her already-long list.

"They're going alright," said Ryouko, sipping her wine. "I'm just analyzing my data now, but everything seems like it's fine. Asami was working on getting more funding to come back to Nazra Invictus, but that seems to have gone up in smoke."

"Eurgh, don't remind me," groused Asami. "I can't believe that this exchange program is happening right when the juiciest grants were giving me money. Fortunately, I'm still mostly crowd-funded, and Ariake-senpai is helping me negotiate banking all the cash until this political stuff is done."

"Heh, yeah, it's a bit of a pain," said Ayane as she cut into her cake and quickly took a bite, savoring the deliciousness while she could. A moment later, Jiuliana tugged at Ayane's pant leg.

"Yes dear?"

"Can I have some?" asked Jiuliana, eyes wide and dewy.

"Of course dear, come here. Let's get you a slice."

"Yay!"

"At least Ayane's on salary now, so she can take time off pretty easy," said Emma, watching Jiuliana clamber her way up Ayane's knees like an oversized kitten. Idly, Emma pulled hers and Ayane's wine glasses away and placed them next to Ryouko, where they were safe from flailing limbs. "It's been hell getting someone to cover my cases though, even with the recent lull."

"I guess the cooperation between the Soul Guard and Governance Colonial Police is working well?" asked Asami. A serving drone wandered past with a slice of cake for Jiuliana, who politely thanked the drone. The robot bobbed in acknowledgment before floating away and Ayane patted her on the head.

"Good job using your manners, Jiuliana."

"Mmn!"

"Yeah, it's alright," said Emma, shrugging. "Really, Nazra Invictus is a big military location these days, so the Soul Guard and the GCP are mostly focusing on either small-timers on the street or white-collar crime. Doing anything criminal that's organized and violent tends to get the MPs down on you like a hammer from hell."

"That's mainly an alien thing, right?" Ryouko asked. "They're not very big on surveillance or being monitored."

"Well I won't say there's no crime in Governance colonies, but certainly a lot less," Emma said. "And they don't do a very good job of monitoring the civilians who come in and out. There's some out-and-out mercenary types that come through sometimes. You should have seen what happened during the Krogan Riots."

"I saw it on the news," Ryouko said.

"Let's just say the Turians weren't happy about having to call in outsiders for support," Emma said.

"Honestly, it's kind of hard to blame the Krogans." Ayane said. "Finding out what the Phoenix Foundation did—it's a bit much to take."

"That's what a lot of us were saying," Emma said, shaking her head with what seemed to be unpleasant memories. "But it's one thing to say it, and another thing to face down a bunch of giant enraged Krogan charging around with guns. And I'll tell you another thing—they're not afraid of being killed. I saw a dozen of them trying to ram through a shock wall one of the Turian girls set up. It took mind control to get them to stand down. Not pleasant."

"That whole situation is a disaster," Ryouko said.

"The whole idea of the genophage in the first place… that sounds almost like Unification War stuff, except we stopped it with implants," Asami said. "It's monstrous."

There was a still silence, the heavy atmosphere broken only by slight glances and shifting eyes. This was not a pleasant topic.

Then Jiuliana dropped her cake, somehow, and Ayane had to use a quick burst of telekinesis to keep it from hitting the ground. Jiuliana giggled as Ayane gave the cake and its plate a small twirl before letting it land back on the table.

"Again!"

"No, Jiuliana, we eat our food and don't play with it."

"But Mamaaaaa!"

"Jiuliana…"

"Okay…"

Emma coughed awkwardly as her daughter poked at the slice of cake with a fork and muttered something about wanting magic powers.

"So anyway, to, uh, shift back to a more pleasant topic, white collar crime," Emma said. "It's part of why the Soul Guard offered me a position out here. Since my background includes logistics, it helps out with the investigations."

"Ah, I suppose Hashimoto and Sinclair also must do consulting occasionally, right?" asked Asami, shaking her head as she picked up the cue. "I mean, your sister investigates investments in the same way?"

"Yeah, pretty much," said Emma, shrugging. "I mean, there are some differences, but Anna says it's a nice break from the stuff she usually works on."

"Well, it sounds like you both have everything all in order, at least for the time being," Ruiko said, jutting into the conversation from an odd angle. "I, for one, would still like to figure out what I want to do in life."

"Well, you're always so flighty," Chiaki commented.

"Not everyone can be so sure of playing the violin their whole life," Ruiko said, giving the other girl a look.

"Anyway, we're starting to think about maybe settling down out here," Asami said, directing the comment at Emma and Ayane. "I know it's a bit far from home, but—"

"It's definitely a good idea," Ayane said. She smoothed back Jiuliana's hair as the young girl attacked the last remnants of her cake with gusto. "The colonies just make so many things much easier. If we had tried to have Jiuliana back on Earth, we'd still be in line for the license, probably for the next decade."

"Well that does sound like a plus," Asami said, carefully neutral even as Ryouko started eyeballing the exits.

Emma coughed. "Children aside, it's also true that while Earth has a lot of advantages, you'll have a lot more opportunities professionally in the colonies. Ayane was originally doing migratory bird research, you'll recall."

Ayane nodded. "You're definitely not as tied down to your original specialization," she said. "There's a lot of cross-demand for people with related training, and you can always get some sim-time to make up for anything you don't already know."

"That is good to know," said Asami, sending Ryouko a brief glance to assess her girlfriend's level of discomfort. Maybe it was time to change the topic. "Anyway, we'll have to think more about it. Have you guys heard anything about this exchange program thing?"

"More than you, you mean?" said Emma. "No. Nadya?"

Ah, well, began Nadya in telepathy as she swallowed a gulp of vodka. She paused, then spoke out loud for the benefit of the non-magical girls at the table. "Ah, well, nothing official, of course, only rumors."

"Such as?" asked Tricia as the table fell silent. Sasuke and Miroku even paused their debate to listen. The "cultural exchange program" between the Phoenix Foundation and the MSY had been big news across Governance space, and yet had been kept deeply under wraps.

"Well," Nadya said, "such as the fact that apparently a lot of girls are coming. Nobody's said much, but I've heard that a representative from each of the major species in the Phoenix Foundation is coming."

"Isn't that like half a dozen species?" asked Chiaki.

"Something like that," said Nadya. "Give or take, depending on availability."

"All in Mitakihara?"

"Pretty much," Nadya said.

There was a pause.

"Mama, I'm bored," Jiuliana said. "Can I get down now?"

"Oh, sorry dear," said Ayane, scooting back so that Jiuliana could hop off.

"Bye!"

Jiuliana went back to her book, which shimmered as she picked it up, and conversation picked up again.

"Well, that sounds like an interesting situation," said Tricia blandly. "How exciting."

"I'm sure we'll learn a lot from each other," said Miroku. "Ryouko, weren't we supposed to be trying to learn some stuff about mass effect physics from one of the reps?"

"Oh, right, that's true," said Ryouko. "Though really it's yours and Sasuke's thing, since I'm leaving after my papers get submitted."

"Well, hopefully I can get tenure out of it somehow," said Sasuke. "Although I'm a bit worried about it, considering the cultural barriers."

"Especially considering it's not anything official," said Miroku with a small frown. "The Council scientific community is being pretty hush about everything. After all, the exchange students aren't really experts or anything, so they're not really ceding us too much."

"Well you guys know who's supposed to be working with you right?" asked Emma. "Surely they gave you a heads up. You'd be surprised what you can get out of a bright, young magical girl sometimes."

"The lab's supposed to be working with the Asari exchange student," Sasuke pointed out. "She apparently volunteered in a lab at some point. Hardly a brilliant source of information. We're bringing her in as an intern."

"Are they allowed to bring anything with them? Any data storage or anything?"

"Nnnnnot really," said Sasuke. "That doesn't mean they don't have anything, since they have connections if nothing else. But it's not great."

"There's a Quarian coming too, right?" said Ruiko. "They're not Council, right? They might be more willing to share."

"That is also a complicated question," said Nadya. "The rumors I've heard say that she's not officially Council, but is supposed to try and observe Council regulations while here. The news coming from Citadel Space says that the Phoenix Foundation is helping the Quarians get re-inducted into the Council."

"They're supposed to already have a representative, aren't they?"

"That's correct."

"Well hopefully it works out then," said Ruiko. "I can see why the Quarian might be asked to keep any documentation and such at home though."

"Yeah, it really is a thorny situation," said Emma. "The GCP's been in talks with the Turian Security Forces about getting more information about Council technology, for example, in order to help with investigations. The TSF has been stonewalling pretty hard."

"That sounds… troublesome."

"You're telling me," said Emma with a long-suffering sigh. "You don't have to work with them."

"I can't believe there's this much of a lockdown on technology," said Chiaki. "You'd think that everyone'd be more interested in sharing knowledge, especially with human warp bubble tech being so much faster than Council FTL."

The scientists at the table winced at the phrase "warp bubble" as Nadya poured another glass of vodka.

"It is nothing new," she sighed as she set the bottle down with another clunk. "Nobody really trusts each other, and neither side wants to give up any strategic advantage."

The table fell silent again, this time slightly morosely.

"Well the good news is that there's going to be a reception," said Ayane. "It should give us all a chance to get to know each other and figure things out a little more."

"One hopes," said Nadya. She began pouring more shots and passed them out telekinetically. "A toast to galactic peace, then?"

The group took the shots and drank.

Liara T'Soni dropped into a chair in her hotel room with a thud, tossing her dress shoes onto the bed, which they bounced off of to hit the wall, then the nightstand, then the lamp.

The lamp righted itself with an unhappy noise.

"Enjoying yourself?" Jaira T'Ari asked dryly, poking her head in through the door.

"Goddess save me," Liara groaned. "Why did I ever subject myself to this."

"Because tagging along with the diplomatic envoy was the only way you could get access and funding to the Nazra Invictus dig," Jaira said, stepping inside to lean against the doorsill. "And only partially because your mother can pull some pretty enormous strings."

"Please, do not remind me," Liara sighed, covering her face with her hands. "I regret all of my decisions."

Jaira laughed. "Well, try not to stay up too late. We still have to meet with Governance Colonial Police tomorrow."

Liara made a displeased noise from behind her palms. Jaira laughed.

"Get some sleep."

"Mmmph."

Jaira shut the door with a click, leaving Liara alone with her thoughts. A moment later the young Asari—only 104, as she was so often reminded— sat up and turned to the desk in her hotel room.

Sleep would be difficult. Despite her exhaustion, Liara was simply too amped-up to just lay down and go to bed. It was by sheer chance that Liara had seen the paper published by Governance on their latest finds in the Nazra Invictus archaeological digs. It was rare to find any articles from the new species posted on boards hosted in Council space, and even more rare to find one in the rarified air of Prothean Archaeology. It wasn't even really Prothean Archaeology, more just a compendium of data that the Humans had been unable to decipher. The board in question had been busily extending a thread on possible explanations based on past Asari scholarship, despite the fact that achieving such an explanation was taking up seven pages and was reliant on incredibly abstruse logic. There had been no point posting anything to that echo chamber. Liara had opted to just send the authors an email with her thoughts. Unexpectedly, she had received a response within the hour. She had made very interesting points, they had said, and would she terribly mind considering a deeper look into their data and perhaps doing a collaborative study?

Of course she had said yes, and had set to work immediately. It was a rare thing to find someone willing to take her theories about the Prothean Extinction Event seriously, after all, nevermind that the only reason her arguments were weak at the moment was because nobody would fund any digs to find more evidence. Which way the wind blew didn't matter, although of course Liara hoped to be validated. Even being proved wrong would be better than the limbo her career was in, and now here was a chance to expand her horizons in directions heretofore unavailable.

There had been a subsequent flurry of emails. Or rather, an attempt was made. Actually sending the emails had, after the second or third, required a frankly absurd amount of paperwork to get cleared. She had needed to declare intent, file an actual proposal with her university, and then persuade her advisor that no, this wasn't a joke, and no it wasn't a prank. With all of that clear, she had then been made to read and sign a vast swathe of documents, and then submit herself and her life's history to the STG for screening.

As if that wasn't enough, the STG, for whatever reason, had then gotten unreasonably alarmed and decided that she was some sort of person of interest. An actual STG operative had appeared at her door to interview her, and then strong-armed Liara into accepting a surveillance module on her omnitool. Then, like clockwork, her mother, Matriarch Benezia, had called within the day asking what was going on and how in the world Liara had managed to get the STG involved in her day-to-day life.

The conversation had been necessarily brief. The exact messy details of their relationship were something Liara preferred not to think about too much, but the sudden availability for an archaeologist on the diplomatic team vanguarding the Phoenix Foundation's oft-discussed exchange program with the Humans spoke volumes.

Well it wasn't as if Liara was going to say "no".

Apart from being an incredible opportunity, the diplomatic vanguard was arriving several weeks ahead of the actual event. Plenty of time for Liara to get her hands dirty at the dig site and talk to the scientists she'd been in contact with. There was so much to do, so little time…

"Liara, why are you still awake?"

Liara sighed.

"Good evening, Mother," she said through grit teeth into her omnitool. "I've just gotten back."

"Ah, I see," said Matriarch Benezia. "My apologies then. How was the reception?"

"It was fine," said Liara.

"Meet anyone interesting?"

Liara paused. "That would depend on your meaning of interesting."

Benezia sighed. "I see. I can tell you're tired, so I won't keep you too long. Is the dress to your liking?"

"No," said Liara, glancing over at the extremely fancy dress that had appeared in her room that morning with a note from Benezia regarding how much Liara had grown over the years, "but I suppose I don't have much choice in the matter. It is a gala after all."

"Unfortunately, yes," said Benezia. "Tiresome things, but, well, there we are. Do try it on sometime soon, won't you? We'll need to get any alterations done before the gala in two days."

"I can handle it," said Liara.

"Very well then," said Benezia. "In that case, have a good night."

"Goodnight, Mother."

Liara sat back in her chair and sighed as the connection cut. Really, it was all terribly exhausting and quite offensive to her sensibilities. How could anybody legitimately expect an archaeologist to reveal "sensitive data"? It wasn't as if she was doing any defense contracting!

Well. Nothing for it at this point. The Council was going to do what the Council was going to do. It was difficult to fault them, after Jaira had come forward as the Phoenix Foundation representative and asked to open official diplomatic relations. The fact that the Humans had "magical girls" had been alarming; the fact that the Council had its own vast network of magical girls to deal with had been horrifying.

Not, again, that any of it really mattered to Liara. She had work to do and opportunities to capture. The fact that she had peers in her own lab group who were apparently magical girls was cause for nothing more than vague curiosity. They were all friendly enough.

Liara checked her watch. Now that she'd had a chance to sit for a while, the day's activities had begun to weigh upon her. With a groan, she stood up again and went to take a shower. The data analysis could wait.

It was not typically Emma's job to sit around waiting, but, as she had told Ayane before leaving the house that morning, she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The way things worked these days, she was usually running down leads in the GCP's vast surveillance network, as tedious a task as had ever been invented.

Whatever. Today, she was being asked to escort an Asari archaeologist around, provide security, and generally do things she'd normally be doing on a day off with Ayane. Except that Ayane was still at home taking care of Jiuliana. Which was a bit disappointing, to be honest, but, well, gift horses were still gifts.

"Mrs. Sinclair?"

Emma blinked away the book she'd been reading and stood, bowing shortly before extending a hand. "Dr. T'Soni, I presume?"

"That's right, yes," said Liara, shaking Emma's hand. "I seem to have arrived early."

In the years intervening, Emma had finally gotten used to seeing the Asari's eerie blue skin, which would have drawn stares on any other planet. She didn't know how to feel about that, but supposed it didn't really matter.

"Yes, we're still waiting for Ms. Jaira T'ari, I think," said Emma, consulting her implants briefly and frowning. "And, er, entourage. If I may, Miss T'soni, why aren't you with them?"

"Ah, Jaira said I should go on ahead," said Liara, smiling awkwardly. "She mentioned something about paperwork and administration? She was shouting at someone on her omnitool when I left."

Emma chuckled. "Well, that does sound about right," she said. "It's a shame the Council won't let anyone install an interconnectivity module on your omnitools. These sorts of things would be taken care of automatically, otherwise."

"The last I heard they were saying something about data security," said Liara dryly. "Because my Meldlink Account is the most important thing ever."

Emma laughed outright at that. "I know what you mean," she said, pushing her hands into her pockets. "Some of it I can understand, but, well, it's what it is."

"Yes."

"I'm told you're here on some sort of science program?" Emma asked politely.

"Yes, for archaeology," said Liara. "I'm told that Governance is interested in my views about the dig on Nazra Invictus, though I've been dragged all over the place."

"Ah, yes, the meet and greet circuit," said Emma, nodding sympathetically. "It's a pain, all that constant standing and having to pretend to be interested in every little detail. I suppose you do get used to it eventually though."

"I hope so," said Liara, grimacing, "my feet still hurt from the standing."

"Oh, was this your first time?" Emma asked. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, I should have been more clear," said Liara. "No, I've never done the, er, 'meet-and-greet circuit' before. I've never had reason to, you see. Too young."

"Huh," Emma said, blinking. "I guess that makes sense. I went to my first gala when I was… oh, maybe thirteen? Fourteen?"

Liara looked surprised. "That is… exceptionally young."

"Well, yes," said Emma with a shrug. "I had— have— an interesting relationship with my parents. It's been a little better these days, but back then it was very…"

Emma made a gesture that involved poking something very hard with her hand. Liara laughed.

"Yes, I can relate," Liara said. "Did they give you disapproving lectures about your career choices?"

"Ugh, please, you have no idea."

"Now, now, you had it lucky," said Liara, folding her arms with a grin. "Your mother isn't nearly a millennium old."

"And, consequently, a master at stealth," Benezia said dryly. Emma and Liara jumped, the former's magic twitching before settling down.

"With respect, ma'am, don't do that," Emma gasped. "Fucking hell…"

"How much did you hear?" Liara asked nervously.

"Ah, nothing that I didn't already know," said Benezia with a wave of her hand. "Of course, I had hoped you would have moved past that particular argument, but…" The matriarch shrugged. "It is what it is. Are we early?"

"Ms. T'ari is late," said Emma. "An unavoidable paperwork complication, it seems?"

"Yes," said Liara quickly. "Something about visas for her family?"

"Ah, yes," said Benezia, a desert breeze floating in on her voice. "Truly, the most productive use of a high-level diplomat's time. Is her staff on leave, then?"

"Unfortunately, Ms. T'ari was obliged to bring only the minimum necessary," said Emma. She opened her mouth, then seemed to think better of what she was about to say.

"Yes, well," said Liara. "I hope it gets cleared up."

There was an awkward pause. Matriarch Benezia seemed unimpressed with the situation, though she maintained an air of carefully curated disinterest that befit an aristocrat of Earth's late eighteenth century. It was the sort of well-crafted expression that Emma had come to associate with older magical girls who didn't want to make an awkward situation any worse than it already was. The silence dragged on as a result, with the need for a change in topic growing ever more desperate.

A beep from Liara's omnitool saved them from death by awkwardness.

"Ah, it seems that Jaira will need to go, erm, consult with someone at the embassy," said Liara, carefully censoring Jaira's phrasing. "She says that we should go ahead without her, and that she'll meet us later?"

"Alright, we can do that," said Emma with a relieved nod. "In that case, welcome to Nazra Invictus. I'm sure you've been around to a few of the more formal places here, so I thought I'd show you something more, as we say, 'down-to-Earth'. If you'll follow me…"

It was certainly the strangest tour that Benezia had ever been on, though not unpleasant. Normally, ice cream shops weren't part of this sort of thing.

"It does seem to be a universal constant," Benezia remarked, studying the spoonful of ice cream she held with a philosophical gaze. "Every known culture in the galaxy has some variety of frozen confection wherever the climate permits."

"Mm?" Emma noised around her spoon, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, it's quite remarkable," said Benezia. "The Asari version of this is essentially the same, just with what amounts to a different variety of cow, and perhaps the use of more bitterness than seems typical for Human ice cream." She popped the spoonful into her mouth and closed her eyes, savoring the flavor of "fried plantains", whatever that was, before swallowing. "To be honest, I believe I prefer this one."

Liara glanced at Emma with a raised eyebrow but went back to her ice cream. This particular shop had a wide variety of flavors, none of which Liara was particularly familiar with. The licorice ice cream had tasted similar to a traditional Thessian dessert, and mint ice cream was just overall strange and slightly unpleasant, but butter pecan was incomparably delicious.

"What other desserts do you guys eat?" asked Emma. "Do you do baked goods?"

"Oh, of course," said Benezia. "Liara's favorite has always been, mm, I believe it translates to 'explosion pie'?"

"Explosion pie?"

"Yes, it's a very interesting pastry that has come in and out of fashion once every few hundred years," said Benezia. "I used to buy it for her when she was little. The name comes from what happens if you're not careful biting into it. Here, let me show you."

Liara had just enough time to realize what was happening before the photo had been whisked from Benezia's omnitool onto Emma's implants.

"Aww, is that little baby Liara?" Emma cooed. "Liara you're adorable!"

Liara blushed and slid slowly down her chair. "Mother! Why would you show people that?"

"Because it's cute," said Benezia primly, before spooning more ice cream into her mouth.

"It's pretty cute," said Emma. "Here, let me show you some of my girl's photos, she's the cutest little thing…"

She was, indeed, the cutest little thing, Benezia thought, looking at the human infant in some kind of sparkling dress. It helped that human infants actually resembled Asari infants—it was harder to see the cuteness in, say, Krogan infants, though you generally managed if you squinted.

"Is this some kind of magical girl outfit?" she asked. "It's adorable!"

To her surprise, rather than instantly beaming, Emma looked oddly uncomfortable.

Benezia smiled benignly. It was rare for her to make a verbal misstep, but the best tactic was to just power through.

"It is," Emma said. "It's a bit of a popular thing on the human worlds nowadays. Wildly popular among human girls. It's like… ugh, princess culture, but you wouldn't know what that is. Anyway, it actually worries me to have her into that kind of thing. I don't want her thinking that's the only thing she wants to be, and then not even get a contract. I want her to have her own dreams, you know?"

She made a nervous gesture with one hand, and Benezia couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the much younger girl, a mother so young by Asari standards.

"Ayane is alright with it, and says it's just a phase, but I don't know. We have arguments sometimes. It feels so dumb to argue about something like that."

Benezia smiled, more genuinely this time.

"Well, don't feel too bad. We all go through that. I remember when Liara was young, she wanted so badly to be part of the Diplomatic Corps. So many of us do, when we're young. But then she became a controversial archaeologist, against all my advice. In the end, they find their own dreams."

She looked at Liara, who looked like she wanted to disappear into her cup of ice cream.

"But maybe you were right after all. Don't you have an important meeting to go to, Liara?"

"Oh, that's right, I do!" Liara said, clearly immensely relieved by that fact. "If you'll excuse me."

She bowed her head and hurried to rush out, almost spilling her cup as she put it back onto a tray. Benezia knew for a fact that Liara was more than on time for the meeting, but, well…

"We want the best for our children after all," she said, stirring the remnants of her ice cream with one hand. "It is no shame."

Liara's appointment, once she had evacuated the ice cream shop and spent significant time psyching herself up, was at an archaeological dig site. To many, it would have been a dusty and boring place to be, with nothing to see but robots poking at dirt. But to Liara, especially compared to having to endure the previous conversation, it was like being in paradise.

It was good to be back in a familiar environment, even if this one was a little more… automatic than she was used to.

"Indiana, was it?" Liara asked, mouthing the unfamiliar name carefully.

"Nah, call me Indy. That's what my friends do."

"Indy, then."

"Indy" was what appeared to be an average-aged Human male, from one of their lighter-colored subgroups, with a shock of unshaved facial hair that perhaps needed to be groomed sooner rather than later. He wore an archaic-looking uniform of some sort, complete with what appeared to be a whip. Liara couldn't help but stare at as he crouched down to watch the dig site.

He wasn't Human, though, was the rub. The chief archaeologist of this particular dig site was an artificial intelligence, and while the very notion might have sent her running for the hills just years ago, she now found herself surprisingly well-acclimated meeting her first one.

"Something the matter?" Indy asked, looking up at her and chewing on something imaginary.

"Nothing, really," she said. "I was just wondering about your uniform. Which era of Human history is it from?"

"It's not a uniform," he said. "It's a director's idea of archaeological work clothes from the, uh, early industrial era. The character is from a movie about an archaeologist."

"They made a movie about an archaeologist?" Liara asked, pleasantly surprised.

"One who fights evil villains and romances beautiful women," Indy said, peering over the edge of the dig site. "Any actual archaeology he does is off-screen."

"Oh," Liara said, disappointed.

"They did a holographic reboot three years ago," the AI said, "standing" back up. "They're pretty popular, and they managed to make it a bit less unrealistic. It was about an archaeologist struggling to continue his work before our great war destroyed his dig site. I was brand new then, and I thought it was the coolest thing ever. That's why I look like this now."

"Oh," Liara said, this time trying to conceal her surprise at Indy's implied age.

A moment passed in silence, as they watched a herd of small drones scan and dust the dig site in eerie silence. The dust here was a pale red, a shade that seemed to reflect the red sky above.

"Are you sure they won't damage the specimens?" Liara asked, finally, unable to resist feeling nervous. She was used to doing everything manually, with painful care.

"I'd be pissed at myself, then, considering that's me over there," Indy said. "Well, a part of me. I wouldn't be much of an archaeologist if I couldn't handle my own artifacts."

"…oh," Liara said, for the third time.

On the ride over, she had been so nervous about meeting an AI. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting—she had read all the descriptions, in preparation, but a part of her still seemed to expect a Geth drone to greet her in all its metal glory. Instead, she had found a dusty looking hologram and his dusty, brown drones.

One of the drones appeared over the edge of the dig site, climbing over the edge with vaguely unsettling metal arms. It scampered over to her and held up a small object.

"It's a round of ammunition," Indy said. "The alloys the Protheans used were extremely hardy."

"Yes," Liara said, carefully, taking the artifact in her hand for a moment before handing back to the drone. "They were an extremely war-like race."

"Some Council archaeologists even say they wiped themselves out with warfare," Indy said. "Personally, that seems unlikely to me. A species doesn't wipe itself out with bullets—it wipes itself out with WMDs. Bullets only wipe you out if someone is making the effort to wipe you out."

Liara looked at the AI's face, trying to read his expression, wondering if she even could read an AI's expression.

"I can't say I disagree," she said.

"Our government is very interested in your theories, Liara," Indy said. "As are we archaeologists, though Governance's opinion matters far more. That is why you are here. Have you considered how odd it is that all the known alien races are all only recently sentient?"

"Yes, but the prevailing theory is that the Protheans wiped out most other races," Liara said.

Indy turned back to the dig site. "You don't find that likely."

"I don't," Liara said, forcing herself to sound confident. "There is plenty of evidence of the Protheans enslaving or ruling over other races. All those races would have had to have been destroyed along with the Protheans."

"If the Protheans enslaved other races, then is it possible that one of those races made an AI to retaliate against their masters?" Indy asked. "After all, according to one of your academic theories, there is some evidence in the few Prothean records we have of conflict with some kind of machine race. Perhaps the Protheans destroyed their subject races in retribution, but could not survive the machines themselves."

Liara kept her face carefully neutral, feeling the AI's virtual eyes—or cameras, or whatever—on her. It was a Council theory that had helped contribute to the Council's paranoia about AIs, and naturally not one she expected the Humans to be very positive on.

"I would be surprised if something like that could have truly wiped out all advanced life," Liara said. "It simply isn't very plausible that the Protheans could have successfully wiped out all their own subject races. You would have expected survivors somehow, somewhere."

Liara's head tendrils splayed slightly in embarrassment, and she had to reassure herself that this alien computer certainly had no ability to read the emotional giveaway. The theory under discussion was unfortunately a difficult one for her to refute, since it shared some overlap with her own theories.

"Yes, we never thought it was terribly likely," Indy commented. "The thing is, it is hard to find a theory that does fit, one that explains an entire galactic-wide civilization of multiple species going extinct. Even with very generous assumptions, that rules out biological plague, all known cosmic disasters, revolution… We are left with enormous galaxy-wide disasters that defy known physics, but leave no evidence, and other such very contrived hypotheses."

Liara made a face. How far could she push this? How much could she share without being dismissed?

"Well, okay, I know that's not a great explanation," she said, making sure she spoke slowly. "The truth is, and I have been reluctant to talk about this… the evidence I have seen almost makes me think that someone has gone out of their way to expunge the archaeological record. It's startling just how little we have on the Protheans or any of their subject races, and in some cases I think things have clearly been removed—that's part of why the ruins here are so important to me. But of course then the question is: Who? Why? And where are they? That's why I don't think subject race AI theory makes much sense."

Indy smiled, just a little, so that she could see, and she had to make an effort to not to sigh in relief.

"But tell me then, Miss T'Soni, what is your hypothesis for the extinction of the Protheans?"

Liara let out a breath, turning her head to look over the dig site. So familiar, and so different, she was finding the Humans, and she didn't think that experience was going to stop anytime soon.

"You mentioned earlier that you know about my theories," she said, finally. "Well, at least the basics. You know what my answer is going to be. I haven't shared all the details because I get ridiculed enough already, but… what exactly are you getting at?"

Indy watched her carefully for a moment, then leaned over to make it clear he was sharing something confidential.

"Ever since the Contact War, Governance—or more precisely, the massive computing clusters of our homeworld—have been pondering the problem of galactic history. Not because they particularly care about galactic history per se, much to my disappointment, but because they believe that a proper understanding of the past helps us to deal with the future."

Liara nodded to show she was listening.

"Because of some unfortunate intransigence from your Council, they had a lot less galaxy-spanning data than they wished," Indy said. "Only what they could glean from papers like yours, intelligence-gathering, and our own surveys. However, that evidence, combined with our own simulations, has come together to form a rather disturbing picture. One that we were disappointed, though not surprised, to find that your academic community does not share. With one exception."

"Me," Liara said, following the obvious train of thought.

"Yes," Indy said. "Now, we have only the barest samplings of your work, published in the lowest-tier journals. It is not difficult to impute that you have had difficulty with your academic career and that some of your more adventurous work and thoughts never made it into any paper."

"I've been holding back, so they don't think I'm even crazier," Liara said, feeling her heart rate accelerate.

Something important was going on, she could tell, but she had no idea what. If she had been holding this same conversation with, say, an eccentric Volus trillionaire, or an Asari official, she would be elated, since this was an obvious lead-in to some kind of offer. Here, though, she had no idea what to think.

"We thought as much," Indy said. He paused thoughtfully, then turned to face Liara fully. "Now that I have you alone here, I'm able to, perhaps, assist you a little in that regard. It is my honor to offer you a personal invitation from Governance: Xenoarchaeology, and of course Governance: Diplomacy, to share your theories in person with our leading scientists. We're holding a major conference on Earth in a few weeks, and we'd like you to be one of the main speakers."

"Earth?" Liara echoed, feeling her voice start to leave her. "You're inviting me to Earth?"

Earth was a nigh-legendary planet, the mysterious Human homeworld that the Humans guarded jealously, and had never been visited by any Council Race, not even by Asari diplomats. The Council wasn't even sure where Earth was, except that it was in a system far distant from even the Nazra Invictus relay. Rumors about it on the Extranet ran wild—commentators were convinced that it was a planet covered in robotic machinery, that it contained nothing but AI computing clusters, or that it was the foundry for a massive Human conquest fleet now under construction. Even widely distributed publicity holos of the planet, and the personal testimony of living Humans, had done little to dispel these notions.

Indy smiled knowingly at Liara's evident shock.

"You won't be the only one invited, of course," Indy said. "Please don't tell anyone about this until after it's announced. One of the major announcements of this gala will be that Governance is finally allowing the arrival of Council delegations on the homeworld, along with a number of other friendly gestures. Student exchanges, invitations to members of the media, and one archaeologist."

"I would be honored to accept," Liara said, bowing her head downward in a gesture of politeness, and also to hide her discomposure. "You can't imagine how much jealousy I'm going to get when I go back."

"Indeed," Indy said. "Also, that gesture is, uh, not used in most Human cultures."

"Oh," Liara said, and now her hair tendrils were definitely panicking at the situation.

"I'm sorry to shock you like this, but now that that's over with, I have some artifacts that I wanted to ask you some questions about back in the storage facility."

"Oh no, of course not," she positively stammered, turning to follow the AI's gesture back up the path. Thoughts swirled in her head.

Goddess, you've really got yourself in deep now, she thought. Mother is going to go crazy.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I give up."

Nyra Sirtis paused the holo she was watching in the lounge of the Expedition as her Quarian teammate dropped into the seat next to her, arms folded and posture tense. The two were their species' representatives for the Phoenix Foundation, Asari and Quarian respectively, and had formed a fast friendship within the surprisingly spacious interior of the diplomatic corvette. They shared a taste for snacks, something that the Expedition catered to with a well-stocked canteen.

"Are you really?" Nyra asked. She dug her hand into the pile of sweets and beverages next to her to find something dextro.

"I am," said Shin'vaara nar Devas said, accepting the Turian soft drink from Nyra and considering it. "There's just not enough useful information about Human computer science, which means anything I do is useless. What are we watching?"

"Dunno," said Nyra, peeling open a candy bar and dropping the wrapper on the large pile next to her. She bit into it with a crunch and switched to telepathy. "Some kind of opera thing."

"What's it about?"

"Something about detectives, involves a Turian solving crimes in the Terminus."

"Solving crimes?" asked Shin'vaara as she jabbed a straw through the top of the bottle. "In the Terminus? That's an oxymoron."

"Yeah, but it involves Airi Darien as the love interest in a skimpy dress," said Nyra. She gestured with her candy bar at the holo. "See?"

"Ooo, that's hot."

"Right?"

Nyra bit into her candy bar again and set her feet on the lounge's table. Truth be told, they were all tense. None of them were trained diplomatic personnel, and nobody really knew anything about the Humans. It was taking them all a good deal of willpower and social skill just to avoid stepping on each others' toes, and they were all well-known species. Asari, Turian, Salarian, Quarian, Volus, even Krogan. All the familiar faces, so to speak, except some of the harder to send races like the Hanar and Elcor. And dear gods they were not bringing any Batarians.

Still, though, they had each been selected by their races' diplomatic corps for their social graces, intelligence, and history of successful interaction with other races. That was true even for the Krogan, though in that case the definition of "success" might have been a little different.

But nothing said they weren't allowed to be nervous. As diplomatic exchange students, they would be among the first aliens ever allowed to set foot on the Human homeworld of Earth. The Human government was notoriously stingy about allowing information about Earth to leak to the other races, and could afford to be, with a homeworld incredibly far from the nearest mass relay by Council standards and information security designed by zealous AIs.

A steady stream of information had flowed from the interspecies contact on Nazra Invictus, but this information was fragmented, unclear, and contradictory, depending heavily on their exact source. The diplomatic corps of the main three Council races, stationed at the Council Consulate on Nazra Invictus, had the most information—but also the most incentive not to talk, to avoid alienating "Governance".

With negotiations between the Council and Humanity over emigration, trade policy, technology exchange and so forth dragging out into nearly their eighth year, this student exchange program was viewed as an opportunity to build some vital goodwill and gather crucial information. The Asari Ambassador would probably execute Nyra personally if she screwed this up.

Alina, their Turian member, stepped into the room, and Nyra hurriedly dropped her feet to the floor. Like all Turians, she was a stickler for discipline and formality, though she was too polite to show it. Or at least that was what Nyra guessed. They hadn't previously gotten a chance to meet each other, outside of a small pre-travel banquet, a testament to how messy the process had been.

It seemed like a reasonable guess, though, since apparently Alina was actually in theTurian military. None of that made sense from an Asari point of view.

"I'm glad to see we're all managing to relax a little," Alina said, mandibles clicking a little. "Mind if I join you?"

Nyra gestured at a seat. "Candy bar?"

Alina politely demurred. "I'm sorry to interrupt this, uh, entertainment," she said, taking her seat primly. "But we'll be arriving soon, and I wanted to talk about our protocol for this visit."

"Protocol, huh," said Nyra, finishing her candy bar slowly. "Can we even make one?"

Alina shrugged one shoulder uncomfortably. "There's some things we can't plan for, I agree, but a fallback plan never hurts."

"When in doubt, run away?" asked Shin'vaara. "I mean, it's not like we can do much…"

"When in doubt, find another magical girl," said Nyra, picking up a bag of chips and opening it with a crinkle of plastic. "Human or otherwise, it doesn't matter. Magical girls look out for one another."

Alina made a dubious expression. "That seems like an unsafe assumption."

"I mean, you wouldn't let a Krogan magical girl die, would you?" asked Nyra.

"No, but the Krogan might let me die…"

"That's racist," said Shin'vaara.

Alina made another face but subsided. "Fair enough, but…"

"Ahh, well, it's fair to be nervous about Humans I guess," said Nyra, munching a chip as she spoke. "Still, we have a certain amount of diplomatic immunity, so it will probably work out, right?"

"That's true."

Nyra was silent for a moment.

"Anyway, that's all the ideas I had," she continued after a moment. "That's not really anything specific, though."

"Speaking of Krogans, is there a reason why the others aren't in this meeting? Have you invited them?" Shin'vaara asked.

"Well, I couldn't get Ferra off the Network," Alina said. "She was arguing with someone over some kind of video game? I couldn't get her attention. We can, um, update her later."

There was a moment of silence.

"I mean, no offense," Nyra said. "But are the Salarians sure about their choice? We're supposed to be representatives of our species. Very social and all that. From what I've seen of her, she's pretty, uh, reclusive."

"Don't be so judgmental," Shin'vaara said, clasping her hands in her lap. "You don't know anything about her. Maybe she just likes playing games."

"Also, Salarian females are pretty rare, and usually kept secluded," Alina said. "Hence the Matriarchies and all that. The only reason we got anyone at all is the Phoenix Foundation. They'd have vastly preferred to send a male Salarian."

"I'm just trying to make an honest assessment of where we're at," Nyra said. "What about the Krogan?"

"What about the Krogan?" the Krogan student, Kirsha said, turning sideways slightly so she could fit through the doorway.

The group froze.

"Relax," Kirsha said as she walked over, surprisingly quiet. "I won't eat you. Talking about the Humans?"

"Maybe," Nyra said, crossing her arms.

"Yes we are," Alina said, interrupting her before she could continue. "I thought it would be a good idea to talk over our engagement protocols. You know, have a consensus on how we talk to them and resolve disputes. I think it'd help this whole thing go more smoothly."

Alina said it levelly, but Nyra could see the Turian's eyes moving to and fro, trying to glean something from the Krogan female.

Krogan magical girls were generally enigmas: kept away from their own species, most resented their effective imprisonment, despite the Foundation's indoctrination attempts, but most also relished their relative power in the Foundation's bureaucracy, the other half of a millennium-old devil's bargain—in exchange for their isolation, the Krogans had demanded special status, the right to sit in and monitor all of the Foundation's activities, to make sure the Krogans weren't being taken advantage of.

That this had worked for so long was a testament to the relative… stability of the female half of the Krogan race, when compared to the other half.

Kirsha snorted.

"You Turians and your rules. Very typical. But there's nothing wrong with just talking it over, is there?"

She walked over next to their table, but didn't sit down, forcing all three to tilt their heads back and look up at her.

"I know you all think that the big bad Krogan is going to terrorize the Humans with her brutish behavior, but I'm not going to be like that. You see…"

She paused, making sure they were all looking at her.

"You see," she said again, leaning forward and supporting herself on the arm of one of the chairs. Her audience leaned backwards even further. "The Humans don't have any preconceptions about us. No ideas of what a Krogan should or should not be. It's my job to make sure things stay that way. The Krogan get a chance to make a good impression, and this new relationship starts off right."

"As opposed to how things turned out with the Turians, you mean," Shin'vaara said, making an uncomfortable gesture with one hand and craning her head back to try and maintain eye contact.

"Exactly," Kirsha said. "We Krogan have our own way of doing things, but that doesn't make us monsters, except to our enemies. I'll help you squish this pyjak, if you'll excuse the Kroganism, and show how the Krogan can play nice with others."

Nyra found herself trying to read the Krogan's expression—and failing, because Krogan faces weren't exactly easy to read. Kirsha had a point, of a sort. No one really took the Krogans seriously except when they were making threats. It had to get tiring.

Before she could ask if Kirsha really meant what she was saying, however, Ferra stepped out of her room.

"You're just in it for a genophage cure," the Salarian said, her voice high and reedy as she made her dramatic entrance. "Everyone knows the Humans are bio-wizards. It was only a matter of time before the Krogan realized."

"And what if I am in it for a cure?" Kirsha asked, the slight suggestion of a growl belying her statuesque posture. "Would that be so wrong? I'm sure the Humans could use a dependable ally, one who won't try to murder their species."

She turned, and it became abruptly obvious just how much Kirsha loomed over the Salarian.

"Just try it, brute," Ferra said, baring her teeth and widening her stance instinctively. "Your size means nothing in a magic fight. And I didn't insult you or your species."

"And I didn't say I was threatening you. All I did was turn around."

"Girls, please," Shin'vaara said, rising to her feet with both hands outstretched diplomatically. "Is this any way to start a relationship?"

"We might all have our own goals," Nyra said, nodding agreeably at Shin'vaara while quietly sending a whisper of magic through her body, ready to transform. "But that doesn't mean we can't be pleasant to each other."

It seemed for a moment that Ferra seriously considered starting a fight regardless, but the tension snapped with the ping of the intercom.

"We are now approaching exit at the Abigail Relay," their captain announced, to Nyra's relief. "Brace for exit."

They shuffled into better positions, grateful for the excuse.

I can already tell this is going to be nothing but fun, Shin'vaara thought to Nyra, privately.

She could only agree.

Septimus furrowed his brow as he slowly pulled his jacket on.

He didn't like being away from his fleet for extended periods, especially when it was for something as pedestrian as politics. But he had been fleet commander when the Nazra Invictus operation had gone fringe up, and while he had not found his career too badly damaged, he did end up spending far too much of his time being asked to "consult" on touchy political business for the Fleet.

Septimus snorted and fastened his cufflinks. Consult, his ass. These days, it was a miracle if he got enough time to file his expense forms. His Tribunes ran the fleet more often than not, though thankfully the current batch were all very competent, and the Fourth Fleet hadn't been called upon to conduct any major operations after Nazra Invictus.

Perhaps that was by design, an attempt to sideline a controversial Legate while acknowledging his experience and service.

"Bah, let it be," Septimus muttered to himself. It didn't matter. As long as he had competent subordinates, the Fourth Fleet would be ready and able. Though he needed to schedule an inspection tour soon.

Septimus gave his reflection a last once over, eyes lingering on the scars he still bore on his jaw. There had been some debate about makeup, or a prosthetic, or even asking for some Human technology to at least cover up the injury. It might be insulting, some had said, an unwelcome reminder of the past.

Well, as his soldiers would have eloquently put it: fuck that. Septimus intended to wear his scars with pride. His voice clicked, these days, his facial plates not lining up quite right and rubbing against each other as he spoke. These disfigurements were irrelevant to his qualities as a soldier and as a Turian, and he refused to hide them as if they did.

Septimus's omnitool beeped at him.

"Legate, our shuttle is ready," said his orderly. "We are still waiting on other members of the delegation, but I can get you seated now."

"Thank you Toros," Septimus said. He adjusted his collar one last time. "I'll be right down."

"Atten-SHUN."

Alina instinctively snapped to her feet from her seat in the diplomatic shuttle.

"That was entirely unnecessary, Lieutenant," said Legate Septimus as he stepped onto the shuttle, looking slightly amused. "As you were, please. I'm not here on military business, after all."

"Yes sir, sorry sir," said the Lieutenant, dropping back to parade rest with a nod. "Just following standard procedure sir. On account of the situation."

"While that's as may be," said Septimus with a small smile, "you are allowed to relax a little while we're still on our own ship."

The Lieutenant allowed himself to smile, just a little. "Fair enough, sir. May I help you to your seat, sir?"

"I can seat myself, thank you," said Septimus, nodding again before heading into the cabin and spotting Alina.

With a start, Alina realized that he was headed straight for her.

"Is this seat taken?" Septimus asked.

Alina blinked at him and looked around at the empty shuttle. "Er, no sir."

"Excellent, may I sit next to you?"

"O-of course sir."

"How is the mission going for you?"

Alina fidgeted. "Truthfully, it's been tough sir."

"Oh?"

"I'm not connecting well with the team," Alina said quietly, twining her talons together anxiously as she spoke. "There's friction. I did better in basic training, back on Palaven."

"You're a bit young to have gone through basic already," said Septimus, crossing his legs. "You must be talented."

"Oh, I suppose," said Alina, jaw plates fluttering in embarrassment as she looked away. "I scored in the 98th percentile on the, um, infantry combat aptitude tests. Some of that was me cheating though."

"How did you manage that, exactly?" Septimus asked, raising a brow plate.

"Well, you know, as a magical girl, it's pretty easy to flip a boy over your shoulder," said Alina, cracking a small grin. She coughed and quickly looked away again. "But everyone knows the teamwork part is more important anyway, and I did pretty well, so…"

Septimus nodded. "It's always harder than you think. Personalities clash, ideologies conflict… I sometimes wonder how I even made it to Legate."

"Really, sir?" asked Alina.

"Oh yes. My strengths lie in staying calm under pressure, not necessarily leading troops," said Septimus, gesturing vaguely as he leaned back in his chair. "There's a lot of skills that you need to lead an army."

"Like what?"

"Well good public speaking skills are a must," said Septimus. "My speeches are… passable, I suppose, but there are a lot of better speakers than me. You also need to be inspirational, which I definitely am not. At least, not from a distance, in the command post. There are plenty of generals in history whose troops would die for them in a heartbeat, but I am not destined to be one of them."

Alina looked down at her feet and tapped her talons together. She wasn't sure about how others felt, but the Legate seemed plenty inspirational to her.

"But, well, these are learnable skills," said Septimus. He examined the stitching on the seat in front of him. "You can't expect to know everything when you're just starting out, but if you scored well on the aptitude test, that probably means you'll learn quickly."

Septimus turned back to Alina and gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry. Just take encounter one at a time and try to learn from it. You'll be fine."

Alina swallowed and nodded as the other magical girls began to file in. "Thank you sir."

"What is it like to be on a magical girl team anyway?" Septimus asked.

Alina thought for a moment about that question. "Personally, I've only ever been on teams with Turians," Alina began, "but in truth it's not that different from being on an infantry squad. Under standard operational conditions, magical girls are assigned patrol routes and areas of responsibility that they cover on a fixed schedule. Usually, multiple teams are assigned to the same patrol route and AOR to prevent the daily workload from falling entirely on one team."

"I suppose this is to ensure that you can manage your classwork and training."

"Yes sir," said Alina, nodding, "though it's said that it changes depending on where you are and what species you are. I've heard that the Asari do something completely different, but I don't know what it is. And the Humans…"

"Ah yes," said Septimus. "Well, that is what we are here to learn, isn't it? I suppose that you will be assigned to a patrol route during your stay."

"Most likely sir."

"Then I look forward to hearing your thoughts," said Septimus, flicking his omnitool at her to transmit his private contact information. He tapped a talon against his lips. "Do keep these to yourself, hmm?"

Alina blinked very quickly and nodded. "Yes sir, of course."

The so-called Inaugural Interspecies Student Exchange Ball was a symphony of procedure and protocol. A careful dance of politeness and manners made all the more intricate by the interplay of faux pas upon faux pas, until all was a morass of confusion yet somehow still formal enough to give the average infantryman plate rot. No person in the room was quite sure how to act around the others, with Humans and Council species intermingling in a confused social melee that Septimus was glad to depart when he was asked to provide the opening toast.

Then he remembered how much he disliked speeches.

"…so to, does the Council share its own with Governance, and it is my honor to convey the Council's gratitude for their protection while they learn and grow among their peers on Earth. We hope that the friends and memories made, by Human and Council magical girls alike, will be friends and memories that will stand the test of time, and be cherished for many years to come," Septimus concluded, quietly thanking any and all spirits for getting him through the small speech. "With that, I am out of things to say. As I mentioned, I am not the best speechwriter in the galaxy, but I hope I expressed at least a part of the sincere appreciation that I, the Council, and its people feel as we celebrate another step towards friendship and peace. Or, if nothing else, I hope I didn't go on for too long."

After a pause, the assembled guests laughed politely at Septimus's joke, allowing him to momentarily conceal that he had forgotten to raise his oddly-shaped glass of Human alcohol in a "toast". He waited out the laughter, arm twitching with the Turian salute he had narrowly managed to avoid giving.

"Thank you again for being here, and please enjoy yourselves," he said, then raised his glass as he had been instructed. The sound of clattering glasses filled the room, and he stepped down from the podium.

Another day, another speech, but at least this one wasn't to a room full of military blowhards. Funny, how the politics of the Turian military had given him a distaste for his own species' social events. Even the Salarians had better parties.

He swept his eyes over the room, at the various diplomatic staff chattering politely, and at the non-diplomatic staff, a motley assortment of local Human and Turian personnel, as well as the exchange students themselves, the Humans on their way out, and the Council students on their way in. Both sides were doing a terrible job pretending not to gawk at each other, the Quarian couldn't stop flinching at the Human server drones, and the Krogan was very carefully avoiding touching anything made of glass, though she had been thoughtfully provided with a beaker sized appropriately for her hands.

All in all, it was as would be expected. He even spotted a few familiar faces in the crowd—he made a note to stop by them when he had a chance.

Although…

He frowned. There should have been no non-diplomatic Asari on the planet, other than the exchange student, so why was there one standing around looking awkward? He would have to investigate. Call it Legate intuition.

He made his way over, stopping to make a couple of polite greetings, and catching glances from Jaira T'ari, Asari Diplomat to Governance, and a couple of the Humans. So many relationships to maintain…

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you look a little out of sorts here," he said to the Asari, who was busy looking over at the Humans with a look that suggested she was searching for something.

"Oh, uh, Legate, it is an honor," the Asari said, turning sharply. She was polite despite her surprise.

"The honor is mine," he said, gesturing regally. "Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"Liara T'soni. I am, uh, here on an archaeological mission, attached to the visiting Asari delegation."

She looked embarrassed at the attention, and it occurred to Septimus that Liara seemed quite young. He might have been slathering it on too hard.

Visiting archaeological mission, though? That seemed a bit unusual.

"My mother is Matriarch Benezia," Liara explained further. "She's, uh, over there mingling."

She gestured with her glass.

"You may want to talk to her instead?" Liara suggested hopefully.

"In time," Septimus said, ducking his head slightly. "I apologize if I seem intrusive, but I feel like I must ask, for the sake of Turian intelligence if nothing else. Archaeology? What could that be for?"

The Asari looked uncomfortable—well, more uncomfortable than she had before. Which meant he might be on to something.

"This planet has extensive Prothean ruins, as you are likely aware," she said. "Some of the largest ever found, in fact. The Humans are protective of them, as you might well imagine, but the truth is they really aren't well-equipped for this kind of study given their lack of experience with the Protheans. The Asari are negotiating access. With Council approval, of course."

It was a well-crafted lie, but it was still a lie—of that Septimus was certain. He needn't bother looking anything up in the official sources, though—if Liara was comfortable telling him she had "Council Approval", she almost certainly really did. In fact, if he looked it up, he was sure that all the documentation would be in order. None of the three Council Races would have been so stupid. It was why they were Council Races.

He made a mental note to follow-up on this topic later, perhaps by seriously submitting it to Turian intelligence. At the moment though, this was a party, and it would have been rude to press the issue further.

"Thanks for the information," he said politely. "It was nice talking to you."

"To you as well," Liara agreed.

He stepped away, surveying the crowd again, and found his eyes settling on the Asari diplomat.

She greeted him when she saw him striding over.

"I never got a chance to properly congratulate you on the promotion," he said.

Jaira shrugged, tilting her glass of Human alcohol slightly.

"It was a close-run thing. In the ordinary course of affairs it would have been assured after what happened, but there was a lot of turmoil over the Phoenix Foundation and issues of sovereignty. I don't have to tell you about that."

Indeed she didn't. The Asari "turmoil" had been a couple of weeks of negotiations followed by a settlement. The Turian Hierarchy had been on the brink of enacting a purge, one Septimus had to help talk them down from.

"Have you met Matriarch Benezia?" Jaira said, turning to gesture toward the Asari next to her. "She was involved in the negotiations."

"I must confess I haven't," Septimus said, taking her hand politely for a moment.

He was genuinely embarrassed, as he had thought this Asari was part of Jaira's entourage. He had heard of Benezia, of course, but she was reclusive, and didn't involve herself much in foreign affairs, so he had never taken the trouble to learn her face—nor had he actually looked when Liara had pointed earlier.

"There's no shame in that," Benezia said, smiling politely. "I'm not well-known outside Asari circles. I saw you talking with my daughter earlier."

The last statement was clearly intended as a question, even if she didn't add the verbal question mark.

"She seemed a bit out of place," Septimus said honestly, spreading his hands. "I thought I'd make her feel welcome. I asked her about her work. I apologize if it seemed inappropriate."

"Not at all," Benezia said, chuckling. "She could use the practice. So what did she tell you?"

"Nothing much," Septimus said, shrugging. If the information was truly privileged, he'd never get it out of Benezia—if it wasn't, she might very well tell him right now.

"As she should," Benezia commented. "Don't worry, Legate. This doesn't impact the security of the Turian people or anything like that. It could just be embarrassing for the Asari if it were to leak. Embarrassing for me. If all pans out well, though, I might announce it myself."

Septimus tilted his head slightly.

"I understand," he said. "I won't pry."

Which they both understood to mean that he perfectly well would pry, but might be willing to let a few things slide, if things were as Benezia said.

"So, Bluebird, how's the wife and kid?" asked Major Annalise Shepard over her glass of absinthe.

"They're fine," said Emma, sipping at her own glass of… well she wasn't entirely sure, but it was apparently from Palaven and quite tasty. "Ayane says hi, and that she regrets that she can't be here, but someone has to take care of the baby."

"Does she really regret it?"

"Absolutely not."

The two women shared a laugh and downed their drinks.

"What're you up to these days?" Emma asked as two more drinks appeared at their elbows.

"Well, the Frontier Guard is reactivating its special forces division," said Annalise, sipping at her fresh glass. "They've been plucking people from units all over the military. Turns out I've been plucked."

"Oh, congratulations," said Emma, raising her glass and clinking it against Annalise's. "Was that part of the promotion?"

"They called it an incentive to finish the training," said Annalise, rolling her eyes. "With VR training and cortical dumps, though, there really isn't much to do other than finish the training. It's mostly just drills, drills, and more drills."

"Sounds terrible."

"Hah! Well there are a few perks. We get a lot of nice toys."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "That pistol you had me firing way back when was pretty nice."

"Yeah, well, Governance just greenlit the first eezo combat suit," said Annalise. She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Guess who's got one?"

Emma's other eyebrow went up. "No way. They just made the news like a month ago!"

"And coincidentally that was when I got mine," said Annalise, leaning back smugly. "They're beautiful little form-fitting things. Mine's out back at the coat check so I can get the hell out of this formal wear as fast as I can."

"You brought it with you?" Emma asked. "Not, like, casual wear instead?"

"It's really comfortable," said Annalise matter-of-factly. "Besides, you see Turians waltzing around in their armor all the time, so why not?"

Emma chuckled. "Fair enough. Sounds like you've been getting some cultural exchange already."

"Well, when you do joint ops with Turian Special Forces, you pick up some of the culture," said Annalise. She sipped her absinthe. "The new suits are based a little on their operational procedures, since Governance needs new equipment for proportional responses. It'd be easy enough to wipe out a smuggling ring if we dropped in with full combat harness, but Governance doesn't want humans to get the reputation of being hyperdestructive."

"I guess," said Emma, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "But doesn't blowing things up solve the problem pretty completely?"

"It'd make the Turians more nervous though," said Annalise, "which makes things harder. You want to de-escalate so that you have room to re-escalate later. Governance isn't willing to wage a full-scale war to conquer everyone, after all."

Emma snorted. "Well that would be a shitshow, so, yeah, makes sense."

"Anyway, the suit's pretty cool," said Annalise. "I'll show it to you sometime, maybe. It's based on Asari biotic powers and uses eezo-based kinetic barriers to shield you. I'm still learning how to use it, but theoretically I could keep up with you in a race."

"Hah!" Emma laughed, and knocked back her drink. "That'll be the day."

"Don't get too confident," said Annalise as another beverage appeared at Emma's elbow. "There's a lot of stuff that biotic users can do that let them keep up with magical girls. It's part of how the Asari magical girls flew under the radar for so long."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," said Emma, rolling her eyes. "You said you were doing joint ops with the Turians?"

"Yeah, out in the Traverse," said Annalise, finishing off her absinthe and picking up another. "Like I said, taking out smuggling rings and pirate bases, mostly. It's been a bit slow, honestly, but still pretty interesting."

"The Attican Traverse huh?" Emma said dryly. "I didn't think we were doing anything out there yet. Part of the colonization efforts?"

"It's not started rolling out that aggressively yet," said Annalise, "so maybe don't talk about it too much. But yeah, Governance is getting ready for a major colonization push. We know that we're better than everyone at spaceflight, at least for subluminal, and our military tech has the Hierarchy tied up in knots trying to counter it. Word on the street is that we'll be snatching up territory as fast as we can send out the ships."

"And how does the Council feel about this?" asked Emma. "I'm sure they love the idea of the freaky cyborg AI monstrosities expanding their territory."

"Officially, the Council is willing to let it go as long as Governance is willing to enforce its own territorial security," said Jaira, sliding up to their table with something blue and glowing in a flask. "How do you do?"

Emma flinched and wished, not for the first time, that Ancients would stop sneaking up on her. "Jaira T'ari, good to see you. Annalise, this is Jaira. Jaira, this is Major Annalise Shepard, one of the original defenders of Nazra Invictus."

"Oh, how wonderful to meet you," said Jaira politely, raising a hand for Annalise to shake. "I'm glad that you could make it. Did any of the other defenders come?"

"Ah, I was nominated by the unit to represent them as a whole," said Annalise, smiling blithely. "Though, I understand that most of the magical girls are here?"

Emma nodded. "I believe Nadya's over there getting a drink, and Tricia is around. I'm not sure where the others went, but I know I saw them arrive."

"Ah, very good," said Jaira, picking off a glass from a passing serving drone's tray. "It's good that a lot of you could come. I'm sure it's very exciting for many of the guests."

Emma and Annalise shifted uncomfortably.

"It's nothing to be proud of," Annalise said. "We were just doing our duty."

"No, but it does make you famous," said Jaira, pouring from her flask into a glass. Whatever it was, it gurgled viscously, with an alarming similarity to maple syrup. "Drink?"

Emma squinted at the… the something. "Beverage" would be generous. She glanced at Annalise, who shook her head and backed away minutely.

"Sure, why not," said Emma, swallowing her glass of mysterious Turian alcohol in one gulp and clacking the cup against the table in front of Jaira. "And we really shouldn't be famous either. I'm not - at least not that much - on Earth."

"Oh, sure, but to the average member of a Council species, you lot are also mysterious Humans," said Jaira, pouring a dollop of whatever it was into Emma's glass. It foamed slightly on contact with the Turian mystery drink, giving off a puff of emerald smoke. "That's more than enough for the rumors to become entirely absurd."

Emma contemplated what it might feel like to die horribly from poisoning and tried to remember what the technique was for purging toxins from her body using magic. "I guess."

"Don't worry about it so much," said Jaira. "The fame will pass eventually."

"Thankfully," said Annalise. "Now Emma, you going to just stare at that or are you going to drink it?"

"I'm working up to it!" said Emma, before knocking it back in one go. Her face went through several interesting expressions and at least two truly unnatural colors before she swallowed. Jaira raised a questioning eyebrow. Annalise briefly regretted egging her friend on.

"…that tastes insane," said Emma, coughing slightly. "What the hell is it?"

"It is in fact fermented marlinfruit nectar," said Jaira. "Very new, I wasn't sure they'd have any here. It was only a matter of time until someone here on Nazra tried it. Do you like it?"

Emma considered.

"Yes. Can I have another?"

"So tell me again why we're doing this?" Kyouko asked, collapsing onto the virtual table exactly like a pouting teenager who was being asked to do something deeply tedious. She even looked the part. "Why can't you or Mami just send me a dossier and call it good?"

Sasha Costa, apprentice to the venerable Mami-san, known for inheriting her mentor's widely recognized patience and calm demeanor, rolled her eyes as far as she could manage and pretended she didn't hear Kyouko's snicker. The Founder was one of the oldest humans alive, and could be mature if she wanted to. Evidently, she preferred tweaking girls younger than her by orders of magnitude.

"We're doing this because you're scheduled to meet and greet these alien magical girl exchange students who will be arriving on Earth in a few weeks," said Sasha as she brushed a loose lock of red hair behind her ear. Physically, she was in her office on the Citadel, which had taken a while to procure given the initial uproar. However, discussions like the one she was about to have with Kyouko were still easier in virtual reality. "Given that, it would behoove you to know a little about the state of alien politics, and the tensions between their races, so you don't commit any embarrassing faux pas."

"And why am I doing this?"

"You're doing this because you're by far the least busy of any of the Mitakihara Four, and it's really high time you got some contact with this alien business if you're going to keep calling yourself a member of the Leadership Committee."

"I guess…"

"Besides," said Sasha airily as she picked up a cup of tea, "you have a special touch when it comes to charming young magical girls, at least for the short term."

She paused, then looked up at Kyouko. They were almost assuredly thinking the same thing: that Kyouko could charm them alright, so it was a good thing Kyouko probably wouldn't meet them except at a few events.

"No sleeping with the Asari," Sasha said, looking back down to sip her tea. "I can't even begin to tell you how much of a diplomatic incident that might be."

Kyouko blinked, then made a face.

"Now you're just making fun of me. How old do you think I am?"

"Way too old to be dating some of the girls I've been hearing about," Sasha said, glancing back up with a raised eyebrow. "And in any case, the students here are too young even for you."

"Point taken. But look, I'm not that dumb, okay? Even if one of those Asari diplomats would be kind of interesting…"

Sasha rolled her eyes again. "There are plenty of humans for you to seduce, Kyouko. Moving on: the Council races. You're familiar with the basics?"

"Yeah, who isn't?" Kyouko said, unwrapping a piece of chocolate that had appeared like magic. "The big three are pretty easy, almost like they're stereotypes of something. Most of the rest of them too. You got blue diplomat girls, soldier dudes, scientist lizards, big tough grunting guys, balloon people—"

"Okay, yes, point taken," Sasha said. She closed her eyes to take a deep breath. How did her mentor deal with Kyouko without losing her temper? "Don't call them that to their face. How familiar are you with the state of their politics?"

Kyouko made a shrugging gesture.

"I could say some things, but honestly you should just review it all. That's why we're here, right? Though I guess Mami'd be better."

Sasha sighed again. "You know how busy she is."

"Yeah yeah. Tell her to take a break sometime, 'kay? She worries me sometimes."

"Well, the good news is that Catherine helps a lot," said Sasha, frowning. She brushed a lock of hair back again. "The bad news is…"

"Mami does need you," said Kyouko seriously. "Catherine deals with a lot of the nitty gritty in making stuff happen, but you and Mami do a lot of the strategy."

Sasha huffed and smiled a little behind her teacup. "…Thanks. See why you're needed to welcome the transfer students?"

Kyouko rolled her eyes and flopped backwards in her chair. "Ugh, jeez, fine, I get it. Let's get this over with already!"

Sasha chuckled and pulled up a diagram. "Alright, so, right now the biggest political issues for the Council are, well, us, both Governance and magical girls. Each of the races has endured internal turmoil over the end of the masquerade, just as we have, and that's not even considering having us humans to deal with. Officially, we're not a Council race, so no one is supposed to deal with us without consulting the Council on all things. Unofficially, everyone plays their own game all the time."

Kyouko nodded.

"Wouldn't expect any less," she commented. "So you're going to tell me about everybody's angles?"

"Yes," Sasha said. "Starting with the big three."

She cleared her throat rhetorically, then continued:

"Right, so, the easiest ones to talk about are the Asari. As you know, they're diplomat types, and were already full of old, highly respected matriarchs, given how long they live. They've had an easy transition with regards to magical girls—they basically talked it over and continued as normal. They claim they just want to integrate Humanity into the Council smoothly, and are willing to give major concessions to do it, and there's no reason to doubt them on that."

"They'll be the easiest to deal with. Friendly, polite, and all they want is friendship," Kyouko said. "Perhaps too much."

"Yes, perhaps," said Sasha. "Governance isn't exactly big on joining this Council of theirs, not with the way their legal system is set up, especially with how it pertains to AIs. To put it succinctly, Governance doesn't really think we're culturally compatible at the moment, and doesn't see why we can't just be separate but peaceful."

"Hard to disagree," Kyouko said.

"Of course it is, Mami helped write the official position," Sasha said. "With the Asari, it's all about not letting them make you seem unreasonable for refusing to go along with them. They'll talk you into a corner and call you immoral for not doing what they want. And don't think you can outtalk them just because you're old, because some of them are older. A lot older. Mami and I had to learn that the hard way."

"The one I'll be dealing with is young, though," Kyouko said.

"Thankfully."

Sasha glanced at Kyouko's expression. Despite her earlier complaints, she seemed interested enough. She had no idea why Kyouko felt she had to play into her stereotype all the time.

"Alright, the Turians then. They think of themselves as soldiers, top to bottom, obeying orders and all that, so they had a really hard time dealing with the magical girl thing. They almost launched an internal purge to get rid of Phoenix Foundation influence. It was a full-scale crisis, and the Asari had to fly in and talk them out of it. Messy."

"The magical girl here might have mixed loyalties, then," Kyouko said. "I can work with that."

"If you need to," Sasha agreed. She poured herself some tea, drank a little, and continued:

"In terms of galactic politics, they see themselves as the galactic peacekeepers, and basically have been for well over a millennia, ever since they joined the Council. They're used to being the biggest fish in the sea, the Law, so to speak, and the events of the past decade have been a real hit to their collective ego. They're not terribly friendly, but also not stupid enough to pick a fight for no reason, and they'd buy our military technology if they could."

Kyouko nodded.

"Easy to deal with, it sounds like," she said. "I know the type."

"Individually, they'll be even easier to deal with," Sasha said, "since whoever they send won't have the same hang-ups as their government. All the same, remember that not all Turians are good soldiers—the ones that fall out of society tend to join mercenary groups and become very… different."

"Also easy to deal with," Kyouko said, shrugging. "Even though it's not my problem."

"Fair enough," Sasha said. "Now we get to the Salarians. Short-lived, living only to about 40 years at most, they tell everyone they meet that they make up for it with their activity. Others would say that their short lifespans make them callous about the lives of others. In any case, they possess the Council's most respected scientific institutions, complete with assorted rumors of unethical experimentation."

"That's sort of an unusual way to describe them," Kyouko said, raising an eyebrow. "A bit more cynical than the usual approach."

"Yes, well, we've had a number of run-ins with their special operations teams, and let's say they're a lot more cynical than anything I just said," Sasha replied. "I don't have to tell you about that."

"No, you don't," Kyouko said, smirking at some memory. "Supposed to be the best the Council has to offer?"

Sasha smiled as well. She knew what Kyouko was thinking of. "Well they do have the deck stacked against them when it comes to getting access to our systems."

"I'm told the intrusion experts actually laughed out loud at their hacking attempts," Kyouko said. "Trusted Computing Framework means Trusted Computed Framework, and AIs don't fuck up this kind of job. It's like swimming for them."

Sasha laughed, but coughed and composed herself quickly.

"Well, all that being said, don't make fun of them, okay?" she said. "Now, besides their incessant attempts to establish an intelligence network despite repeated warnings and diplomatic incidents, the Salarians are also not too subtly angling for access to Governance biotech, particularly anything that could be used to extend their short lifespans. There are rumors on the Council networks that the Salarians are investing very heavily into implant technologies, now that they know what's possible."

"I can't blame them for that," Kyouko said, shaking her head almost sadly. "Forty years… that's almost unimaginable for us, and their poor magical girls must have a terrible time dealing with it. We had a whole department for lost family members, back when death was still a thing."

"Well fortunately for us, they don't really have much family, not in that sense," Sasha said. "They're loyal to their clans, that is to say the mothers of the eggs they hatched from, but not really to anything else. As you probably know, females are rare and kept cloistered—most outsiders never see a Salarian female, but they pull all the strings in the back."

"Sounds familiar," Kyouko said, snorting. "But we're getting a female student?"

"Yes," Sasha said. "We almost didn't. They really wanted the chance at valuable intel, but no clan actually wanted to be the one to cough up a valuable daughter. It took them months of internal negotiations to produce a candidate, from a not very powerful family. I wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't exactly a favored daughter."

"I can work with that," Kyouko said, making a show of cracking her knuckles. "The poor girl must have quite a chip on her shoulder."

Sasha shrugged. She wasn't sure about those things. Proof again why Kyouko was the best for the job. Life as Mami's apprentice had catapulted Sasha from middling to extremely privileged circumstances, and she hardly remembered what it was like not living up to the expectations magical girl society had placed upon her.

She shook her head. This wasn't the time to be reminiscing.

"Anyway, the other thing the Salarians seem really concerned about is not letting us get too close to this other race, the Krogans, which apparently they deployed a bioweapon against once, to keep them from breeding too much. They want us to think the Krogans are an unredeemable savage race who deserved the treatment and don't deserve our help. Governance is withholding judgment for now, of course."

"Bioweapons sounds like the shit that went down in the Wars," Kyouko said, with a trace of disgust. "Are they really that savage?"

"As I said, Governance is withholding judgment," said Sasha primly. "We may as well discuss them, now that we've mentioned them."

"Big muscle guys, right,?" Kyouko said, perking up a little. "But way too into themselves? The kind of idiots who'd get into a bar fight they couldn't win, but then win anyway?"

"I don't know where you get this stuff," Sasha said. How many times had she rolled her eyes already? Her eyeballs were going to roll away at this rate. "And why are you so excited?"

"They just sound more interesting than the rest. If I can't work my charms on any of them, I'd rather have someone I can drink with, if that makes sense."

"It doesn't," Sasha said bluntly. Kyouko pouted. "And for what it's worth, the females of the species are supposed to be a bit more level-headed. They're supposed to have an interesting history, though we only know the details we were able to glean from the Council networks. Apparently, they once nearly destroyed themselves in a nuclear war. The Salarians found them over a millennia ago, when the Council was losing a war to this insect race called the Rachni. The Council has pretty bad biotech, so a race of 'giant muscle guys' seemed like just the ticket. They gave them weapons and technology, pointed them at the Rachni, and won the war. They gave the Krogans some planets as thanks. Then the Krogans expanded and proliferated, experiencing ridiculous population growth, and then tried to take planets from the Asari. That triggered another war, which the Council was again losing, until they got the Turians to join them. Near the end of it, the Salarians deployed a genetic bioweapon designed to make Krogan females almost entirely infertile, and that was the end of that, officially. The Krogans are extremely bitter."

"Infertile?" Kyouko asked, frowning. "That doesn't seem like something that could really stay in place, if they have magical girls around. And it sounds like the Council is pretty shitty at war."

"The Asari and Salarians are, at least," Sasha said. "But they have the Turians to do it for them now. As for the Krogan—well, their position within the Phoenix Foundation isn't much better than their one with the Council."

This one she didn't have to explain. No one conscious, at least not that Sasha could possibly imagine, had missed the Krogan riots, or the Phoenix Foundation's belated, reluctant explanation that had almost touched off a full breach of relations. Even Kyouko couldn't avoid that particular bit of alien news.

The Krogans had been forced to make a deal, way back during their war with the Council, to barter for their species survival. After the deployment of the genophage, with the Krogan species on the ropes, the Phoenix Foundation faced a horrifying conundrum. The Council races couldn't afford to let the Krogan survive, as long as there was any risk the Krogan magical girls would use magic to cure the genophage in secret and come for revenge. The Krogans couldn't convincingly prove to them that they wouldn't, because, well, they would if they could. Everyone knew it.

The solution presented by the Asari members of the Phoenix Foundation was genius, in a twisted kind of way. They had studied game theory just as much as Earth's warring powers once had, and the problem was classic: neither side could trust the other would follow the deal, so no deal could be made. The key was to find a way they could prove to each other they would follow the deal.

So the Phoenix Foundation took possession of all Krogan magical girls, isolating them from their own race so they couldn't get up to anything. In return, the Krogan magical girls would be placed in positions where they could verify for themselves that the Phoenix Foundation and Council weren't planning any sneak attacks on the Krogan. It was a terrible deal for the Krogan, but what could they do? It was the only way they could save their species from total extermination.

"Bartering for the survival of their race—isn't that literally just threatening genocide?" Kyouko said after a long, interminable moment, echoing the debates of the time.

"Yes," Sasha said grimly.

Kyouko shook her head.

"Well I have a lot of material to work with, I suppose," she said. "Speaking cynically, the Krogan could be a major asset, if we throw them a few bones. As long as we're not too patronizing about it. It's always nice to be able to play the 'other side' against itself. Ugh, I sound like Yuma saying that."

"Let's move on," Sasha said. She was still young enough for that sort of topic to rattle her. "There are a number of minor races that won't even be visiting and you can just read about—we don't know terribly much about the Hanar or Elcor or Batarians or Volus, but they're not terribly important either, as long as you know enough to hold a conversation about them. There is one exception, though, which is the Quarians."

"Yes, I heard," Kyouko said. "The ones that got driven off their homeworld because they accidentally made an AI, and didn't have any Volokhov or anything to back it. Why are they sending a student?"

"By mutual consent," Sasha said. "They really wanted one, almost certainly to spy on us, and for diplomatic reasons, we want to show that not all AIs are evil. Plus, Governance would love to have a sit down with her about the AIs they made, the Geth."

"I suppose it would," Kyouko said. "So I gotta watch her for spy tricks?"

"Yes," Sasha said. "And she's not terribly likely to be friendly, though we have a promise she'll be on best behavior. She's on her 'Pilgrimage', which is something they send all their young adults on. They have to bring something valuable back home to prove themselves as adults. Mami says: 'Try to make sure it's not something that hurts us'."

"Right," Kyouko said. "So we're going to want spy drones for this one, then."

"We're going to want spy drones for all of them," said Sasha. "But her especially. Good ones too, since Quarians are supposed to be good with electronics."

"Right," Kyouko repeated, tipping her chair back and drumming her fingers on her arm thoughtfully. "I wonder if…"

Kyouko flashed one of her trademark smiles, the one Mami always said meant trouble, and let her chair fall back to its legs with a clatter. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I have just the thing. Thanks for the tips. I think I can handle it from here."

"Should I be concerned?" Sasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kyouko stood to leave and let her smile lengthen into something very concerning.

"Nope."