Author's Note: Well, I resisted naming a chapter after a Green Day song this long…

Sorry for the (holy shit) six month delay on this one. Let's just call it 20% coursework, 10% illness, 10% real life, 10% other writing commitments and 50% procrastination.

Next chapter is quickly taking shape though. It'll definitely take less than six months, I promise.

Meat.

Circuits.

Ripping. Tearing.

Fear. Pain. Despair. Hopelessness.

Death. Destruction

Planets he'd never seen, species he'd never seen...

Dying.

Dead.

Will die.

Will die.

Everyone will die.

Everyone existed because they allowed it, and would die because they demanded it.

Shepard awoke with a start, his eyes springing open. Usually he managed to sleep through the nightmare, the vision, but… there were some nights that was difficult. Some nights, it was just… more intense than others. It never changed, it just hit him harder. Drew him in more, were more immersive…

Putting it that way makes it sound like a damn videogame.

He sat up and looked around the room. His room. The Captain's Cabin. He felt guilty saying it, but this Normandy, the second Normandy, felt more like home already. The first Normandy had always felt like Anderson's ship. He'd always wanted to give it back, once Saren had been defeated, but then Anderson had become Councilor.

Councilors may have a lot of power, but they couldn't have personal use of a stealth warship.

So, Shepard kept the original Normandy, as wrong as it felt. He didn't have long to feel wrong with it, though. A month to the day after Saren's defeat, it was destroyed by the Collectors. The damn ship had been barely four months old, and too many of his people, his friends, went down along with it. Including him.

Maybe that was why he prefered this new Normandy, despite the Cerberus logos plastered all around the ship. It was a fresh start, a new crew. He was the first Captain this ship had. And this ship wasn't haunted by twenty one people he had failed to save. Twenty one people who didn't come back from the dead two years and twelve days later. Twenty one people who died on April 15th, 2183.

Shepard sighed. Their deaths were still fresh in his mind. From his perspective, it had been a month since the destruction of the first Normandy. But the world had moved on without him. To them, it had been two years and forty two days.

He slipped off his bed and went through his normal morning routine, before throwing on the casual Cerberus uniform. He really needed clothes that weren't plastered in the logo of a terrorist organization. The tuxedo Kasumi had "acquired" was great, but it didn't lend itself well to casual situations. Usually it prompted the question "Why are you wearing a suit?", and he didn't want to have to explain the situation every time someone asked that.

Just as he was going to leave the room, he caught the blinking light of his private terminal in the corner of his eye. He remembered Timmy saying that he was sending more dossiers to him.

Might as well give them a quick glance.

He activated the terminal, the holographic display flaring to life. Ignoring his inbox, which was trying to tell him about new messages, he brought up the dossier list. Four new entries since he last checked. As far as he could remember, he last checked before recruiting Kasumi.

Let's see… Thane Krios, Drell Assassin. Aren't drell the reptilian species that serve the Hanar? Should've known the jellyfish had assassins. "Biotic quick-kill specialist", "expert sniper"... another sniper, but Garrus and Zaeed don't have biotics…

Shepard couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the next sentence.

"...trained from childhood as an elite assassin..." Wow. If this got out, the Hanar would be sanctioned to hell and back.

As far as he could tell, this Thane had a varied skillset. Hand to hand, biotics, sniping, infiltration… all were benefits to an assassin, but he wondered how Krios would hold up in heavy combat.

Samara, Asari Justicar. "Biotics strength near that of an Asari Matriarch…" Benezia was hell to fight against, sounds like Samara is roughly the same. "...a rare member of an asari monastic group trained in enhanced combat biotics alongside standard weapons."

Shepard did a take. To him, "monastic order that trains people to fight with both weapons and telekinetic abilities" sound a lot like…

"Asari Jedi?"

Shepard shook the idea off with a grin, and went back to the dossiers. Both Samara and Thane Krios had apparently been sighted on Illium, which made it a priority stop to make.

The next possibility for recruitment brought a smile to Shepard's face as soon as he read her name.

Tali'Zorah vas Neema. Say no more.

Unfortunately, it listed her location as "Unknown, due to her operations with the Migrant Fleet Marines". So it seemed Shepard couldn't go find her until Cerberus got a lock on her location.

It did feel wrong to be relying on Cerberus to locate one of his best friends, mainly because they were likely invading her privacy. And no-one invaded the privacy of Shepard's friends but Shepard.

Brushing off the implications of that idea, he finally laid his eyes on the final dossier.

Elsa Schnee.

Last night, Timmy had mentioned his promise to Anderson, and now he had sent a dossier on Elsa. From the looks of it, Timmy was pushing him to break his promise to Anderson by recruiting her.

Shepard snorted. Like that was going to happen.

He decided to look over the dossier anyway, just in case his prediction to Anderson actually came through. Also, he was curious to what Cerberus had dug up on this woman. He could pass what they'd found out to Anderson, and he'd take over from there.

What became immediately apparent to Shepard was the difference in writing style between this dossier and the ones before it. While the other dossiers had a "bullet points and a short paragraph" structure, this one had multiple paragraphs of information. If it could be called information: much of it was speculation.

"Unknown cryokinetic abilities … connections high in Arendellian government and Royal Family." Not much more than I already knew… "Possible relation to mythical Queen Elsa of Arendelle, recorded as a cryokinetic." I guessed that already…

Shepard eyes widened as he read the next sentence.

"Ballpark estimates of Queen Elsa's power run into levels found in nuclear fission."

That was shocking and confusing at the same time. Mordin's Cryo Blast didn't use up as much energy, but then again, it's effects were temporary, and all it had to do was cool what it hit. Elsa's power would take ice (and snow, the dossier was saying) from thin air. Unless she was pulling moisture from the air, she was creating matter from energy. By definition, that required nuclear levels of power.

Although the modern Elsa apparently hadn't shown anywhere near the level of power that the historical Elsa had displayed, the way Cerberus described it made her seem like a damn good asset. Shepard was almost tempted to break his promise to Anderson over it, the key word being "almost".

Closing the dossier application, Shepard went to shut his terminal down. Before he could do so, the still-blinking mail icon caught his eye. Opening up his inbox, two new messages highlighted themselves: Can you help? from someone named Robyn Reeve, and We need to talk from Anderson.

He scanned over the former message first. It was from a survivor of the Horizon attacks, imploring him to find their missing colonists, which included her son and her brother. Apparently, Kaidan had given her his mail address.

Shepard didn't have the heart to tell her that they were most likely being turned into Husks.

Whatever he did, there were always people he couldn't save. War always had casualties, both civilian and military. Shepard had just never been good at accepting that fact.

He hovered the mouse over the message from Anderson, hesitant to open it. He knew that he shouldn't have taken down Hock on Bekenstein, especially after being restricted to the Terminus Systems. But he'd hoped that they'd overlook his breach of probation, especially as it consisted of killing an arms dealer and recovering valuable stolen goods.

Taking the plunge, he clicked it open and took a glance at it. Quickly noticing a distinct lack of capslock and exclamation points, he decided to actually read it.

Shepard,

Meet me in Arendelle City, as soon as you possibly can.

I owe you a beer.

Anderson

Shepard grinned as he closed the mail application. For as much shit life threw at him, for as many hard choices it tossed his way… it liked giving him a third, golden option.

"Elsa!"

Elsa looked up from the terminal she had been working at to see Giorgio rush across the room. She had been organizing files for her eventual successor now that she was "vacating the position". Given the nature of the mission, she was likely vacating the position permanently.

It felt absurd. She had been a Queen, an architect, an ambassador, even a movie producer at one point… but she had never been a soldier. And now she was volunteering for a self-described suicide mission with a man she knew barely anything about.

But she was doing it for Anna. She would do anything for Anna.

She watched as Giorgio bounded across the room, grinning from ear to ear. He looked nothing like a man who had attempted to bury his father just yesterday. Giorgio had the unhealthy habit of burying his negative emotions while pushing his positive ones to the forefront. It wasn't that he was putting on a smile, but there some element of force behind it.

"The Normandy just passed through the Charon Relay." Giorgio said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Elsa's eyes widened in surprise. Anderson had only sent the message last night, so she hadn't been expecting Shepard to arrive so soon. With the news trickling in about the attack on Horizon, and how Shepard was the only reason why anyone survived it, Elsa had expected him to be off fighting them somewhere in the galaxy.

She looked back at the screen, glancing over the files she had compiled. Anyone halfway competent would be able to take up her position without them, but she had been making efforts to idiot-proof the position. Udina proved that people could get into high positions without an ounce of ability.

"We managed to get you some armour in light blue, because that's your favourite color, and your bags are packed and we've gotten a box big enough for Marshmallow and the snowgies… Can I meet him?"

"I'm sorry?" Elsa asked. She'd barely managed to catch what he had said.

"Can I meet him? Commander Shepard. I mean, he's Commander Shepard. Hero of the Citadel, Survivor of Akuze, first Human Spectre-"

"Giorgio…" she began, but the sentence faltered before it could finish. She wanted to object, but couldn't fathom a reason why. She was wary of Shepard on principle: he was person who projected an image of being a flawless hero, but much of what he did wasn't public knowledge. A knight in shining armor, a story where all the gory bits were left out.

Everyone had flaws, and if they hid them… they were big flaws.

"Of course you can." Elsa finally finished, smiling at her nephew. "But Grand Pabbie and I need to meet him first. If I'm joining his team, he'll have to know about magic."

"Okay." he said, returning the smile.

Elsa had known Giorgio since the day he was born. She knew him better than he knew himself. So while he left the room, smiling to himself at the "secret" plan that was forming in his head, Elsa could already tell from the twinkle in his eye that he was planning something.

She knew he wouldn't try to crash the meeting, so she'd let him have his fun. He needed it.

When the Commander had announced that they'd be taking a twenty-four hour shore leave on Earth, Jacob had planned to pick up a few things and maybe find an Alliance bar to have a quiet drink at. Shepard had asked him to use the spare time to buy clothes that didn't have the Cerberus logo on them, and after the half hour he had spent in a Citadel holding cell, he was inclined to agree. He'd been about to leave when Miranda sent him a message, asking him to come to her office.

The door to her office opened with the traditional bleep-shhhck, but Jacob was disarmed by the soft pop that followed it. Behind her desk, Miranda poured a bottle of champagne into a pair of flutes, before she handing one over to Jacob.

"Champagne? What are we celebrating?" he asked.

"Shepard's been awake for month, and he's exactly the same as he was before he died." she explained. "As head of the Lazarus Cell, I'd deem that a success."

Jacob chuckled. "More like a damn miracle. How many test subjects did Orpheus go through before being shut down?"

"Fifty-four." Miranda sipped from her glass.

"And another twelve with Lazarus. I guess sixty-seventh time's the charm."

They both took a moment of silence, looking back over the two years they'd spent working on the project. They'd lost a lot of good, talented people when Wilson had betrayed them. Although Miranda had been distant to a lot of the staff, Jacob knew that she was feeling the loss. He was one of the few people in the galaxy who had seen beneath the icy aura she put out.

"They've restarted Project Orpheus." Miranda said, breaking the silence.

"It's not gonna work." Jacob replied, shaking his head. "Shepard coming back was a once in a lifetime thing. You tried the same procedures on a dozen people, and they all failed."

"Well, there's no shortage of volunteers. And unless you'd like to be one, Miss Goto, I suggest you decloak."

Jacob shot a glance over his shoulder, just as Kasumi faded into view. He would be suspicious of the frequency that Kasumi used her cloaking device, but after two years of feeling like he was being watched at every moment, he'd become apathetic to the possibility of his privacy being invaded.

"So, what's Project Orpheus?" Kasumi asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Miranda shot her a look that said "It's classified" in the bluntest possible way.

"Shepard wasn't the first time Cerberus tried to resurrect people." Jacob explained. "Before Project Lazarus, there was Project Orpheus. After ten years of no results, they shut it down."

"And Project Lazarus' success made Cerberus restart it?"

"Yeah. A lot of Cerberus' backers are at the point in their lives where dying of old age is a possibility."

Jacob could feel Miranda glaring at him, but Orpheus wasn't top-secret. Hell, it was one of the projects they could leak to the press and get good publicity for. That was, of course, it worked.

"It won't work though." he finished.

"Why not?" Kasumi asked.

"We could fix the body, but never the mind. Whatever we tried, we could never jump-start the brainwaves. And then Shepard came back all on his own. We fixed the body, and the mind kickstarted itself. We even had to keep him a medically induced coma for a few months because he woke up before he'd been put back together."

"...he came back on his own?"

"It's more likely that some external stimuli triggered a neurological response." Miranda interrupted. "Project Orpheus has the records of the moment brain death was reversed, it's their job to figure out how he did it."

"You didn't check?" Kasumi asked

"We couldn't figure it out." Jacob explained. "One moment, no activity, a corpse on a slab. The next, he was breathing on his own, and the scanners were showing brain activity. Like somebody flipped a switch."

"Like magic."

"There's no such thing as magic." Miranda scoffed.

"I don't know, Miranda. There's just some things in the universe that can't be explained."

At that moment, the conversation was interrupted by Miranda's computer terminal softly beeping. Jacob watched as she looked downwards and began reading the message she had just received, and was slightly concerned with the look of surprise and shock that grew on her face. At the point where her shocked looks reached it's crescendo, Jacob heard the sound of an old shutter camera come from behind him, and turned just in time to see Kasumi's grin fade into thin air.

"What was that about?" he asked, turning back to Miranda.

When she didn't respond, Jacob came around the desk and looked at the message for himself.

Hey Miranda,

TIMmy just sent me the locations of every single bug on the ship. Mind checking it over for me?

Shepard

P.S. Smile for the camera.

Every city on every planet in the galaxy had a "cop bar" or a "cop pub". A place where the city's peacekeepers could have a quiet (or rowdy) drink with their fellow officers. Most had several, each with their own history of catering to different precincts or stations. It was the same for dock workers, for firefighters, and for soldiers. Anywhere you could reasonably expect to find a congregation of hard-working men and women, bound by profession, could you expect an establishment that explicitly welcomed them.

The same was true for members of the Systems Alliance Navy and Marine Corps. And it was in one such bar in Arendelle City that Shepard found Councillor Anderson.

As he entered the bar, heads turned towards him. Some showed shock and recognition at the Hero of the Battle of the Citadel and the sole survivor of Akuze walking into their local, but many showed acceptance. As if they were thinking "Well, Councillor Anderson showed up, why wouldn't Commander Shepard be here too?".

As Shepard sat in his seat, Anderson slid a beer bottle across the table towards him. He caught the small cylinder deftly and took a swig from it.

"So, what changed your mind?" Shepard asked.

"She did." Anderson sighed. "She needs help, Shepard, and you're one of the only people who can help her. In return for… your allies keeping her secret and leaving her alone, she's offered to go on the mission."

"If she needs help, she can have it. No strings attached."

"She wants to come with you to see this through. Personally. This group has targeted her and her family because of her secret. She needs a guarantee that it'll be kept, especially by your… allies."

"I can try." Shepard sighed. Getting Cerberus to keep a secret gave them more leverage over him. Which means he would have to gain leverage in turn.

The game they were playing was simple and difficult at the same time. On paper, the person with the more valuable cards, the best leverage, won. Getting that leverage and judging it's value was the hard part.

"When do I get to meet her?" Shepard asked, downing the last of the beer.

Anderson glanced at the empty bottle in Shepard's hand. "Now, if you're ready."

Shepard shot Anderson a grin as he got up, and threw his bottle into the recycler. Anderson followed him up before leading the way to a waiting skycar. He let Shepard get in the passenger side, before sliding into the driver's seat and activating the auto-pilot.

The sky-car lifted gently from the ground, before flying forwards and upwards above most of the city, all but the tallest towers lying below them. Shepard watched the view pass by, the natural beauty of the fjord being one of the many things he had read up on during the trip. He watched as Arendelle Castle passed below them, before turning to Anderson with a raised eyebrow.

"Arendelle Castle has a bug problem at the moment." Anderson explained.

"So does your office. I'll send you some that we pulled out of the Normandy, show you what to look for. I've got a good scientist onboard, former STG."

"That salarian you brought to the meeting?"

"Yeah. Mordin Solus. Found him running a free clinic on Omega. He's brilliant, and the good kind of crazy. Geneticist, engineer, doctor…"

"Sounds like a good team you're putting together."

"It's not finished yet." Shepard said, smiling. "Tali's next, and I'm gonna try and get Liara too. Kaidan, if the Admiralty promises not to file treason charges."

"Don't count on that." Anderson frowned. "Hackett is the only thing stopping them right now. He has a standing order to avoid all contact with you."

"Remind me to thank him for that."

The skycar punched into the cloud layer, a shroud of white surrounding the vehicle. It flew further on, leaving Shepard confused. The altimeter showed the altitude steadily increasing, so they were probably going to a space station. But if they were, why hadn't Anderson simply asked the Normandy to dock with it?

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere that can't be bugged." Anderson replied as the skycar broke above the clouds.

From that point on, it was pretty obvious where they were headed. One mountain stood out as the tallest among the many peaks, and one structure stood out from the mountain. Blue and crystalline, it grew from the mountain like a second peak. It's spires twinkled in the sunlight, so much so that Shepard momentarily thought the entire building was made of blue stained glass.

Shepard felt slightly embarrassed when he realised that the Palace was made from blue ice. After all, he was dealing with a lineage of cryokinetic royals: of course they would have an ice palace.

And if it was made from ice, there were no electronics to bug. Very clever.

The skycar settled on a metal platform that protruded from the mountain, a landing pad for tourist shuttles. Anderson popped the hood, and the chill of the mountain air surrounded the pair. Despite his armor's heating systems, his head was uncovered and still vulnerable to the cold.

He didn't want to wear his helmet, though.

The snow crunched their boots as they walked up to the ice bridge, passing through a high metal gate. The guard at the gatehouse seemed surprised to see them walk through, but waved them on anyway.

"Watch the ice. You always slip the first time." Anderson warned, before he ascended calmly.

Shepard grasped the handrail as he made his way up, only slipping on the first step. Walking on ice was something you didn't forget, especially if you did it often in your childhood. As soon as he reached the landing, Anderson pushed the double doors open and motioned Shepard through.

The lobby was surprisingly empty. A large, wide-open room with a ice fountain as a centerpiece and two ornate staircases leading up to a single landing, and two further staircases behind transparent walls.

Shepard watched as a figure made it's- her way down the staircase and through the door, before coming to a rest on the landing, looking down onto him and Anderson.

She was incredibly pale, her skin the color of snow. Not a lot of earthborn humans were that pale anymore, but spacers did find it hard to get sunlight. Her hair was platinum blonde, almost white itself, and it hung down her left shoulder in a french braid. It took Shepard a moment to realise it, but the sparkling ice-blue dress she wore, complete with a really long cape, wasn't covered in sequins or jewels: it was actually made from ice.

"Elsa, this is Commander Shepard." Anderson said, gesturing towards him.

Anderson then towards Shepard, and gestured towards Elsa. "Shepard, this is Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

Shepard frowned. He had read up on the situation of the Arendellian monarchy on the way in, and the heir to the throne was a man named Giorgio Conti. As far as the extranet could tell, Elsa Schnee was nowhere in foreseeable line of succession.

And anyway she would be "Elsa the Second" because of the historical Queen Elsa...

...who was depicted as a pale-skinned platinum blonde who wore a dress woven from blue ice.

"Wait, what?"

"Why the fuck are we here, bird brain?" Jack asked, eyeing the store's facade.

"Like I said, we're here on Shepard's orders." Garrus said, his tone even.

"What sort of shitty ass orders need us to go to a department store?"

"His exact words? 'Buy Jack a damn shirt.'"

Jack shot a glare at the Turian, who simply smiled. Or at least she thought he was smiling, Jack wasn't an expert in Turian facial expressions. The most she ever saw was fear.

"If this is all about me, why the fuck did we bring the Krogan?" she asked, pointing her thumb towards Grunt, who was staring at the mannequins in the window display.

"He asked to come." Garrus replied with a shrug.

He motioned towards the doors, and Jack sullenly made her way in. As with many department stores, the ground floor was made up of the jewelry and perfume sections, which gathered the interest of Grunt and the ire of Jack.

Garrus shepherded their little group upstairs towards the clothing department, past all the looks being shot at their group. The tourism VI had suggested the store, so naturally many of the patrons were tourists, and many of them were staring at the trio.

Maybe they think we're a fuckin' family. Turian, Human and teenage Krogan.

"YOOHOO!"

Jack leapt to the side, hand glowing with biotic energy and ready to pummel whoever had ambushed them, but instead of a mercenary group, she was greeted with a smiling Asari. She wore a woolen sweater that Jack had seen on every single member of staff, and a nametag that said her name was "Aeian".

Oblivious to the fact that Jack was ready to kill her, Aeian continued talking.

"Welcome to Oaken's Department Store, ja! This is the flagship store of Arendelle's premiere department store chain!" she said in an exaggerated accent.

Jack shot another glare, this time directed at the Asari. She wished that she was firing shotgun rounds instead of glares.

"What's up with the stupid accent?" Jack asked.

"Company policy. You have to go on a two week course." the Asari responded, the smile and the accent both dying on her lips. "Apparently the founder was famous for talking like that, but humans didn't have audio recordings back then, so I'm pretty sure it's just a bullshit marketing stunt. When I asked the instructor why we couldn't just upload the accent to our translation programs, you know what he said? 'If the actors at Disneyland have to learn a couple dozen different signatures, you can learn a damn accent.'"

Jack shot a glance at Garrus, one that asked "What the fuck is she talking about?". The one she received in return could be seen to say "Your guess is as good as mine". Neither had expected that rant, and neither understood what the Asari had meant when she had mentioned Disneyland.

Grunt, on the other hand, had moved on to more pressing matters

"What are you wearing?"

"It's a sweater, ya?" The accent coming back instantaneously. "You can find them in our winter department."

She motioned in the winter department's general direction, and Grunt stalked off towards it. Jack and Garrus watched him go, before they walked off in an entirely different direction. They made their way past the summer wear, which included all the latest trends and fashions, and other shit Jack couldn't give a shit about. She let Garrus motion her along, not caring whether or not she "bought a damn shirt", instead looking for a chance to sneak away from her Shepard-ordered chaperone and to find somewhere to get a drink. She almost lost him as they passed by the armor department, when he stopped to look at the Turian hardsuits, but he soon caught up and dragged her over to the women's clothing.

Jack was honestly surprised at some of the stuff they had in stock. She thought it would be all ball gowns and blouses, but she soon found herself looking through biker jackets and steel-toe-capped boots. She didn't even notice when Garrus slipped away to go back to a particular hardsuit that had caught his eye.

In any case, a new outfit would come in handy, if only to get Shepard off her back. At least, she hoped it would get Shepard off her back. She'd been working for him for about two weeks, and by this time she'd usually figured out what people wanted from her. Shepard wanted her to fight, sure, but he kept coming down to her bunk and… talking. About her life, about her thoughts on the mission…

It was fucking strange, and she wanted him to just say what he wanted already.

"Uh, hi."

Jack jumped, and her hand lit up as she turned to face the voice. It was a man, Mediterranean in look, with olive skin and black hair. He wasn't armed, and he was looking at her with a slightly-frightened, slightly-excited look on his face.

"The fuck do you want?" Jack asked, the biotic glow disappearing. He didn't look like he could put up a fight.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but you work with Commander Shepard, don't you?" the man asked, smiling broadly.

"What's it to you?"

"Well, I'm just a huge fan of the Commander and-"

"Hey, Jack, who's your friend?"

Jack watched as the man went slack jawed as Garrus came around the corner. As the fanboy did an impression of a fish gasping for air, Garrus shot a questioning glance at Jack, and Jack rolled her eyes in response.

"You- you're actually Garrus Vakarian." the man managed to stammer out.

"Yeah, he is." Jack snarked.

"I am… such a huge fan. Of you and Shepard and the rest of Shepard's team ohmygod you're so AWESOME!"

"...uh, thanks?"

"Can I get a picture with you?"

"...sure."

The man sidled up to Garrus and put his right arm around Garrus' shoulders. He activated the omnitool on his left forearm, and with a small hand gesture, took the picture. Jack watched all this with a look of annoyance and confusion, not really understanding what there was to fanboy over.

"So you're, uh, shopping?" The fan asked, his broad smile never faltering. "Guessing you're on the lookout for new armor. Not that your armor is bad or anything, but it's kinda got a hole in it."

"Mostly browsing." Garrus answered, rubbing the back of his head fringe.

"I can buy it for you, if you like."

Garrus did a take, while Jack smiled at the offer. Maybe fanboys were worth the hassle if they offered to buy you stuff all the time.

"Uh…"

"Wait, where are my manners? Sorry, sorry. Hi, um, my name is Giorgio. Giorgio Conti. Don't worry about cost, I can afford anything in the store. Or everything in the store. And the store itself. I might be shareholder in the company, actually. Heinrich?"

One of the store's "customers" shot a glance at his "wife" before walking over to Giorgio. Jack watched Garrus' head swivel in several direction, and Jack tracked his gaze to the several dozen people in the store who were wearing sunglasses. Now that she thought about it, many of them had been looking in their direction, and a surprising amount of them were covering the exits.

It made Jack's hair stand on end. They'd walked straight into a potential firefight.

"Yes, your highness?" Heinrich asked with a slight beleaguered tone.

"Am I a shareholder in Oaken's?"

"No, sire. The late King's shares passed to his wife, though it is likely that she is to name you her representative on the board."

"Thanks, Heinrich."

Heinrich bowed, giving Jack a view of the pistol-shaped bulge beneath his arm, and returned to his position a few meters away. What had just happened took a moment to sink in, but Jack manage to get the words in before Garrus.

"Your highness?"

Giorgio flushed, realising what he had done. "Uh… I'm kinda a Prince. Technically Prince Regent. Of this country, Arendelle."

Shepard really attracts the strangest fucking people. Jack mused. He had a team made up of her, two Cerberus goons, a Turian ex-cop, a teenage Krogan, a merc, a Salarian and a master thief, and now she was finding out that his fanbase included fuckin' royalty.

"So, uh… you were looking at armor, right?"

"You're… are you…"

"Three hundred and sixty two years old?" Elsa said, giving off a small smile. She had to admit, the confusion that everyone experienced when she told them that was pretty fun to watch.

"...you don't look it." Shepard replied, rubbing the back of his head. "Can I ask how?"

"Magic."

Shepard frowned for a moment, before his brow furrowed in thought. At this point, Elsa had expected disbelief and questions, the ones everyone asked when they found out. All Shepard did was think, and after a quick glance at Anderson, turn back to her.

"So magic exists? I'm willing to accept that."

"You are?" Elsa exclaimed, taken aback. It seems Shepard had skipped straight past disbelief and into acceptance, which was incredibly strange. Not even several members of her own family, especially ones raised in the latter half of the twentieth century and beyond, had accepted magic without much skepticism.

"This isn't the first time I've seen something impossible. Actually being able to explain it with magic… makes a lot of sense." He shrugged.

"What-" Elsa stammered for a moment, trying to keep her composure. "... what have you seen?"

She had been looking for someone like her, someone with magic, for centuries. She had been the first one in a while, according to Grand Pabbie, and they usually sought to hide their abilities rather than broadcast them to the world.

People feared things they didn't understand, Grand Pabbie had explained. And creatures that were scared had a bigger chance to lash out.

Pabbie had also explained that there were many types of magic that weren't as visible as her own. People with mind magic, probability manipulation, enhanced senses… they could go through life without ever knowing they had those abilities.

"A psychic plant, a race of psychic bugs, and a species of robo-Cthulhus. It also kinda explains the Asari's mind meld, come to think of it."

Elsa's face fell. She had honestly always expected the Asari (and in fact, Grand Pabbie had come to the same conclusion when he had been told about them), but they didn't consider their abilities to be magical in nature. The others that Shepard had mentioned did not seem to be people she could relate to, more monsters to fight rather than people to befriend.

"What happened to to those… things?" she asked, a little scrap of hope still left.

"The plant, the Thorian, died. He was one of those 'I'm a superior species so all must serve me' types. The bugs, the Rachni-"

"The Rachni?" Elsa asked, taken aback. She had heard of the Rachni, a species which had tried to destroy all life in the galaxy millennia ago. Their continued existence wasn't comforting.

"The Rachni aren't a danger. They've gone into hiding for now, avoiding the rest of the galaxy, but they promised me they'd help when the Reapers came."

"Reapers? That's what you said Sovereign was, correct?"

"Yeah. The Reapers are the robo-cthulhus. They can indoctrinate people to their will just by their presence. That's what they did to the Rachni, forcing them to try and slaughter the galaxy."

"Machines can't have magic." Elsa frowned. That did sound like mind magic, but… machines weren't alive. Magic was only for living things.

"Are you sure?"

"...no."

She really wasn't. An artificial intelligence could qualify as "alive" but...

A machine could be cursed. Given magic by an outside force.

"Well, the Reapers sound like magic to me. Their very presence drives people insane." Anderson interjected.

"The Reapers are the reason why I'm here, actually."

"Well then, let's go talk business." Elsa gestured for the pair to follow her up, and then ascended the staircase behind her.

The Ice Palace was one of Elsa's favourite creations (not counting Olaf and Marshmallow and the Snowgies), but she had to admit it was one of the most simplistic, from an architectural point of view. It was a large building, but the majority of the indoor space was taken up by the foyer and the main room, which were the only rooms in palace. Aesthetically, she was incredibly proud of it, but she had designed dozens of buildings since then that had more than two rooms.

As she walked into the room, she looked at her assembled snowmen and pressed a finger to her lips. Marshmallow and Snowgies quietened down their chatter immediately, their voices dying out.

"Why are we being quiet?" Olaf asked loudly.

Elsa glanced at Olaf, and resisted the urge to press her palm against her face. Olaf's outburst drew Shepard's attention towards the snowmen as soon as he walked through the door. He paused mid-stride as they caught his eye, and he spent a moment looking between the snowmen and Elsa.

"Snowmen?"

"Hi, I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!"

"...talking snowmen?"

Elsa shot him a sheepish grin, and shrugged.

"They're my snowmen." she replied, before sitting down across the table from Shepard.

Shepard took his own seat, and Elsa watched as he kept shooting glances between her and Olaf.

"...you created them? They're alive?"

"Yes."

"Isn't creating life the domain of gods?"

"It is also the domain of parents."

Shepard remained silent for a few moments, obviously coming to terms with what he had learned. Elsa could almost see his mind making sense of it all. It seemed that while he wasn't bothered by the existence of magic, he did have trouble with the sheer power.

"Anderson tells me you need my help." Shepard said, changing the subject.

Elsa steeled herself. There was always the chance Shepard would reject her terms, or refuse to help. At this point, Shepard was her only chance of returning Anna and Kristoff to their resting places.

"Someone is attacking my family because of me. They killed my nephew, and have stolen the remains of my sister and brother-in-law. They've set a trap in on Ucra, a moon of the gas giant Terapso in the Mil System."

"Sigurd's Cradle, in the Terminus."

"Correct. I wish to recover my family's remains, and bring those who attacked us to justice."

"You wanna walk into a trap."

"That is essentially what I'm asking."

"Fine by me. I've walked into dozens of traps before."

"In exchange-"

"I don't need anything in exchange." Shepard said, cutting her off.

"Commander, I wish to see this through. Personally. Doing so would give Cerberus leverage over me. So, in exchange for this, the deletion of all data Cerberus has on me, and their word to never harm my family… I will join you on your mission against the Collectors."

"That's a lot to ask of them, but I think I can work that out. You have combat experience, right?"

"Some."

"Against what? You're old enough that you could've fought against people with muskets-"

"She saved over a dozen people's lives during the Battle of the CItadel." Anderson interrupted. "The Geth never stood a chance against her powers."

Shepard nodded, before standing up once more.

"Okay then." he said. "Report to the Normandy at oh-nine-hundred, tomorrow morning."

He nodded towards Elsa, and turned to leave. Elsa couldn't stop herself, he had to know before any decision was made.

"Commander! There is one more thing."

"Yes?"

"I won't kill."

Shepard paused, and turned around to face her once more, a quizzical look on his face.

"You won't kill?"

"I've… I've killed once before. Never again."

"...how do you suppose to fight without killing?"

Elsa waved her hand, sending a burst of ice at Shepard's feet. It creeped up his armor, covering him up to the neck in a layer of ice two inches thick. From the way he grunted, she could see him trying to break free from it, but it would be no use. Practice had made perfect, and even the strongest men could not brea-

Crack.

Elsa watched in shock as Shepard broke his way out of the icy prison, first shattering it at the joints, before pulling pieces off in sheets.

"That's pretty good, but you'll want it stronger for Krogan and combat droids." he said, brushing some of her ice off his shoulders.

"...how?"

"Rumors of my death weren't exaggerated. Cerberus brought me back, and added a few upgrades. I'm thirty percent synthetic now. Probably more."

"Interesting." Grand Pabbie said, emerging from behind the group of snowmen.

Elsa saw Shepard's hand move for his gun, but he didn't actually pull it out. He stared at Grand Pabbie for a while, seemingly unable to make sense of what he was seeing. Elsa supposed it was natural: with Olaf and the snowmen, he had a frame of reference. A Rock Troll wasn't something a person encountered regularly, even in fiction.

Pabbie hobbled his way over to Shepard, and looked him up and down. He reached upwards and took the Commander's hand, staring at the gloved appendage.

"This is Grand Pabbie." Anderson explained. "He's a Rock Troll, a magical race that lives in the Valley of the Living Rock."

"What is he doing?" Shepard asked.

"Looking at your magical aura." Pabbie replied, letting go of the hand. "All living creatures have magic, it is what supplies the spark of life. Few have more magic than that, more visible magic, magic which affects the world at large."

He paused, giving Shepard one last glance.

"Your magic is one that I have not seen many, many years."

"Mr. Moreau."

"What do you want now?" Joker asked, not even looking up from his screen.

Jeff "Joker" Moreau had a lot to be thankful to Cerberus for. They brought Shepard back. They brought Normandy back. They even gave him leather seats.

But he didn't trust them, and they obviously didn't trust him. Which is why they installed that damned AI.

"Mr. Moreau, Professor Solus and Mr. Massani are having a verbal altercation in Professor Solus' Laboratory."

"So?"

"You are in command."

"What? I thought Miranda was the XO?"

"Prior to his departure, Commander Shepard instituted a modified chain of command. Agent Lawson is still acting Executive Officer, but in Shepard's absence, Mr. Vakarian has command. In Mr. Vakarian's absence, you have the deck."

"Does Miranda know?"

"Miss Lawson has not been informed of the changes to the command structure yet."

"I can't wait to see the look on her face when she finds out. That picture Kasumi sent was priceless."

"Mr. Moreau, the altercation is in danger of turning violent."

"Alright, I'm going." Joker sighed, getting out of his seat.

He hobbled out of the cockpit and into the "neck" of the ship, passing by the Cerberus goons at their workstations. He'd avoided talking to them outside of reports on parts of the ship, and they'd learned to avoid him. They monitored the Normandy's systems, made sure everything was working correctly, and helped fix whatever wasn't.

All the shit he couldn't do, basically.

Of course, she had the processing power to replace all of them, even him. But if he had to choose between two dozen Cerberus goons and her, he'd take the terrorists any day of the week.

The door opened with a bleep-shhhck, leading Joker into… actually, he had no idea what this room was even supposed to be. The Armory and Engineering had it too, little rooms with no purpose separating those rooms from the rooms around them. It was probably a security measure, two doors being tougher than one, but then why didn't they have the same deal in with Life Support, or the Main Battery, or even the Cockpit?

Then again, this was the same ship where you had to walk through the Armory or the Lab to get to the Comms Room.

Even through the metal bulkhead, Joker could hear the muffled sounds Zaeed's raised voice. He had no idea why Zaeed would have a beef with Mordin, of all people, but it sounded like he definitely did. Mordin was the type of guy to replace your kidneys, but he was also the type to ask permission first.

Sighing, Joker opened the door to finding Zaeed red in the face and reaching for his sidearm.

"You ain't tellin' him, ya hear me?!" he shouted, still oblivious to Joker's entrance.

"Telling who what?" Joker asked, startling Zaeed. And maybe Mordin to, but he wasn't exactly an expert on Salarian facial expressions.

"Was updating medical records. Acquired samples from Mr. Massani. Found discrepancy." Mordin rushed out, before Zaeed could get a word in.

"It's nothin' serious, but frog-face thinks he should tell the damn Commander."

"Shepard has right to know."

"I get to decide what he knows about me and what he doesn't!"

Joker sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was not the sort of thing he handled. Solving arguments between members of the ground team was Shepard's job, not his. He flew the ship, he didn't babysit the mercenaries.

"Look, does Zaeed have a contagious disease?"

"Discrepancy not disease-based."

"Will it stop him from killing Collectors?"

"Would not say so."

"Then it's his business, and the Commander doesn't need to know."

"That's goddamn right." Zaeed said, and left the lab without another word.

Mordin turned to Joker, and Joker would've guessed that was a frown. He didn't know if Salarians frowned when they were unhappy, but given what had just happened, he hazarded a guess that they did.

"Do not agree with decision, but shall abide by it. Believe Shepard should know-"

"I don't wanna hear it. Zaeed wants you not to talk about it, and unless you want him to shoot you in

Mum

1. the back next time you're both on a mission, I'd respect his wishes."

Mordin paused for moment, before going back to his workstation. Taking this as his cue to leave, Joker hobbled back out of the Lab and towards the Cockpit. As he passed, the airlock opened and Garrus, Jack and Grunt pooled out of it. Jack, although still scary as all hell, now had enough clothes on that she wouldn't get arrested for walking past a school tour; Grunt had put a sweater on over his hardsuit (and judging from the bag, had bought half a dozen more); and Garrus was wearing a new, more metallic and sharp-angled hardsuit.

"Nice new wardrobe. Hopefully we haven't had to sell the Normandy for it." Joker commented obliquely, as Jack and Grunt brushed their way past him.

"We got it for free." Garrus replied, sheepily rubbing his head fringes.

"Is that how Turians say 'Five Finger Discount'?"

"What?"

"Did you… no, did Jack steal it?"

"No. A fan of Shepard's bought it for us."

"You fleeced a kid?"

"No, it wasn't a kid. It was the King of Arendelle."

"...you're joking."

"Well, technically, he hasn't been crowned yet."

Joker laughed, before moving into the cockpit and slipping back into his chair.

"Can't wait to see the look on Shepard's face when you tell him that."

"My what?!"

"His what?!"

"His magic." Olaf stated cheerily.

Anderson, for all he had been told about trolls, and magic, did not consider himself anywhere near being an expert on these sort of things. But he knew a few fundamental facts, and one of those was that Elsa had searched for centuries to find someone with even the barest spark of magic. She'd even investigated the people who could stick spoons to themselves. And not once did she find anyone. Pabbie had explained it in saying that magic was a sort of a living force, and that as science grew, magic would hide further and further away.

So, accidentally bringing a person with magic to Elsa was pretty spectacular. Given Shepard's reaction, not even he knew about it.

Though, if it was gonna be anyone in the entire galaxy who ended up with magic, it was going to be Shepard.

"Yes, your magic." Grand Pabbie said, still looking at Shepard closely. "It is a magic I have not seen for millennia. The magic of the Protheans."

"Oh." Shepard said, the confusion gone from his voice. "The Cipher."

"The what?" Elsa asked.

"While tracking down Saren, Shepard had a run in with an ancient sentient plant known as the Thorian." Anderson explained. "Fifty thousand years ago, it absorbed the Protheans who died fighting the Reapers, absorbed their essence. It imparted that essence into an Asari named Shiala, who gave it to Shepard."

"I have the essence of a Prothean in me. Guess that meant their magic, too." Shepard's face contorted in confusion. "Wait, you've met the Protheans?"

"They came to this planet over fifty millennia ago, to observe the beginnings of your kind. They were surprised to find us here too. Not many planets maintain multiple sentient species, according to them. The Protheans were masters of the magic of the mind."

"So you were there? When the Reapers wiped them out?" Shepard asked.

"Yes. 'Reaper' is what they called the abominations."

"Abominations?"

"Their magic screams."

"Reapers have magic." Not a question, Anderson noted, but a statement.

"Yes. All sentient beings have magic, as I have said. But their magic is stolen, it is not natural to those mechanical beasts. Their life is a corrupted one, and corrupts those around it to their influence."

"Indoctrination." Anderson stated.

"That would be a word for it."

Shepard sighed, and rubbed the side of his head.

"So," he asked "this magic I have. How do I use it?"

"The magic within you is dormant. It can be tapped, but the magic of the mind can be overwhelming without proper training, and from what Anderson and Elsa have told me, you do not have the time to undertake it."

"Can I get a correspondence course?"

"We Trolls prefer not to make use of technology. We are beings purely of magic, while most life is a harmony of the two."

"That's a no, then."

"You are correct."

"Well then, is there anything else I need to know?" Shepard asked, glancing at Elsa.

Anderson, instead, glanced at Grand Pabbie, and with that caught what happened next. Pabbie opened his mouth, as if to say something else, but instead shook his head and kept quiet.

"No. That is all." Elsa replied.

"Okay. Report to the Normandy at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow." He turned and, with a last glance at Elsa's snowmen, walked to the door. "You coming, Anderson?"

"I'm gonna give Grand Pabbie a ride back, Shepard. You go on ahead."

Grand Pabbie shot Anderson an understanding glance as Shepard left, while Anderson fired back a suspicious one. The impromptu staring contest continued until the sound of the front doors closing reverberated through the Ice Palace.

This contest was interrupted by a cough, and both turned to find Elsa staring at them.

"I have preparations to attend to. Thank you for offering Pabbie a ride home, Anderson." she said, obviously catching on to the awkwardness of the situation.

Anderson lead the Rock Troll out in silence, their footsteps leaving the only sound. Only after they had gotten into the skycar and it had taken off did Anderson break the silence.

"What didn't you tell Shepard?"

"Something I should not have considered saying."

"Then why did you?"

"...he is a good man. But there is something in him, that may destroy him."

"You saw something in him?"

"Yes. But to tell him would destroy him, from what little I have seen."

"Tell me. I know Shepard, I know what he can handle."

So Pabbie did. He laid out, in great detail, what exactly he had seen, and what exactly that meant for Shepard. He told Anderson of the examples he would know of, and several he didn't. And in the end, after the skycar had circled the Valley of the Living Rock multiple times, Anderson came to much the same decision as Pabbie had.

"...we can't tell him. It would kill him."

"I got her." Shepard said.

Shepard watched as a smile appeared on the Illusive Man's face, the blue tinting of the QEC not taking away from his desire to punch it off. Timmy took a final drag of his cigarette, before stubbing it out in the ashtray of his armchair.

"Good work, Commander."

"She has some conditions. All traces of her wiped from your files, including the ones you make while she's working with me; and for Cerberus to never target herself or her family."

"That can be arranged."

Shepard knew it could be, but doubted that it would be. Cerberus' word was worth about as much as Vorcha shit. In any case, with at least the pretense of a promise secured, Shepard ended the call and stepped off the now-rising table.

"EDI, call everyone here. I'm having a briefing."

"Everyone, Commander?"

"The ground crew, Doctor Chakwas and Joker."

Shepard nodded at each one as they made their way in, noting the new clothes and armor the trio he'd sent out were sporting. Jack now actually had a shirt, and Grunt had found a place that made sweaters for Krogan. In the back of his mind, a small voice told Shepard that a Krogan outside of a combat hardsuit simply felt wrong. Especially since that combat hardsuit was effectively his birthday suit.

Garrus had also found the funds for a new set of armour, which Shepard couldn't blame him for. The old set had a pretty big hole in it.

As soon as Zaeed, the last person to arrive, took his place around the meeting table, Shepard pulled up a hologram of Elsa. A program on his omni-tool had made it from the recordings it was always taking.

"This is Elsa," he began. "No last name. She'll be joining up with us tomorrow morning."

"No last name?" Jacob asked.

"Effectively, her last name is 'Of Arendelle'. She's a member of the Royal Family. The Queen, actually."

"I thought Giorgio Conti was going to be king." Garrus said, a confused look beginning on his face.

"He is. King Regent, anyway. Elsa faked her death, but never officially abdicated."

"Wasn't the last ruler a King Olaf?" Garrus continued, the confused look overtaking the rest of group to arrive in first place.

"That's correct. Elsa faked her death in eighteen sixty-one."

At that point, everyone stared at Shepard as if he was mad. He had been expecting that, and brought up images of various portraits that had been made of Elsa over her tenure as Queen. Despite the fact that final ones had been made well into her forties, she looked no older than in the ones made near to her coronation.

"So?" Grunt asked innocently, breaking the silence.

"Humans don't live much longer than a hundred and fifty, Grunt." Shepard explained. "Back then, forty five would've been pretty old. Three hundred and sixty-two is an age only Asari and Krogan live until."

"How?" Miranda asked, incredulous.

"Magic."

Another silence. Shepard brought up images and video, this time of Elsa's ice magic engulfing his hardsuit, the talking snowmen, and of Grand Pabbie. A glance around the room showed some disbelief, some confusion… and a few hints of acceptance.

"EDI," Miranda asked, eyes fixed on the images, "These images are fake, correct?"

"I cannot detect any trace of falsification in these images, Miss Lawson."

"How certain are you?"

"I have scanned for all known hallmarks of image falsification, including those found in Cerberus' own image falsification technology. These images bear none of them."

Shepard shot another glance around the room, judging the reaction. Less disbelief now, more confusion. It seemed Garrus, Grunt and Joker had moved onto acceptance, and Chakwas wasn't too far behind.

"Magic exists." he affirmed. "Reapers have it, Protheans had it. Indoctrination never made scientific sense because it was magic. The Prothean beacon didn't make scientific sense because it was magic."

"Interesting." Mordin piped up. "Does not conform to standard physics model. Discrepancies already found in current model, but no acceptable theory yet."

"You're saying this could explain things there is no explanation for?" Jacob asked.

"Possibly. Two separate physics models within one universe. Discrepancies between universes have been theorized in multiverse theory. Two physics models within one universe would require… hmm."

Everybody stared as Mordin fell silent with contemplation. From what Shepard could tell, he was cautiously endorsing the possibility of the existence of magic. With the scientist believing in magic, it should be enough to convince the rest of the group.

"If you don't believe it, I don't blame you." Shepard finished. "But you'll find out tomorrow. I want you to keep what you've heard here a secret. Dismissed."

From the outside, the Normandy reminded Elsa of the Concorde. Long, tubular body with a triangular wing section at the back. Elsa had taken the Concorde a few times over the course of it's service life, and had enjoyed the novelty of the experience. Of course, the Normandy was faster than the Concorde by a considerable margin, much more difficult to get a seat on, and infinitely better-armed.

It was pretty surreal, Elsa had to admit. She was about to join the crew of a warship, with the ultimate intention of going on a suicide mission.

She hadn't lied to Shepard, she had fought before. Hans' attack on the Ice Palace, her attack on Copenhagen, the times where she had helped defend Arendelle from invasion… but this was different. She didn't know why, but she could feel it in her gut. Maybe it was the fact that this mission promised death, or the fact that she would be working in a team alongside people she didn't know-

"What's with the box?"

Elsa was shaken out of her thoughts by the arrival of Shepard, who was pointing at the large cargo container that was current being loaded into the Normandy's cargo bay.

"Supplies, courtesy of the Royal Family of Arendelle and the Arendellian Government. In recognition of your recovery of several missing historical artefacts."

"And the unofficial story?"

"My snowmen. The Snowgies and Marshmallow can fight, and Olaf… he knows where Anna is."

"Okay. And who's your friend?" he asked, pointing at the young man who had been staring at Shepard since he had come down the Normandy's.

"My name is Giorgio, Giorgio Conti, sir. I'm Elsa's nephew. I'm a huge fan, sir." he said.

Despite all he had gone through, Elsa could see genuine excitement in Giorgio's eyes. Probably the first genuine happiness he had seen him show since he had arrived.

"I know, Garrus told me. And no need to call me sir, your majesty."

"You deserve it, sir. Can I get a picture? With you, I mean."

"Sure." Shepard flashed a grin at Elsa, before leaning in to get into shot.

Elsa rolled her eyes at the display, and made her way up the ramp that lead into the Normandy's cargo hold. At second glance, she realised it also functioned as a hangar bay: a Kodiak drop shuttle hung from the roof, with space for another three. That begged the question of how they kept the cargo in place when they opened the doors in space.

In fact, come to think of it, that begged the question of how the ship didn't lose a huge amount of oxygen every time the launched the shuttle.

The crew set the container down and extracted the hoverlift from beneath it. As they exited the cargo hold via the elevator, Elsa walked over to the container and placed her hand on it. Even through the polymer, she could feel the familiar sensation of her ice, like little pinpricks of warmth. She didn't feel the cold, but that didn't mean she mistook it for warmth. Her ice always felt like room temperature to her... except her snowman. Olaf, Marshmallow, the Snowgies... they all felt alive and warm.

"Aunt Elsa?"

Elsa turned to Giorgio, only to be wrapped in a hug.

"I'll see you later, okay? If anyone can bring you back in one piece, it's Shepard. You've gotta trust him."

"Goodbye, Giorgio."

Giorgio broke the hug and smiled at her, before turning and making his way back onto the concrete of the spaceport. As Shepard passed by him, Giorgio grabbed his hand and whispered something Elsa couldn't hear into his ear.

"Don't worry. I will." was his response.

Elsa waited until Giorgio was well out of earshot before she spoke again.

"He asked you to protect me, didn't he?"

"It was more along the lines of 'She can handle herself, but make sure she comes back in one piece'." Shepard said. "Anyway, I'm guessing that you're gonna want to bunk in here if you've brought the big guy along."

"That was my intent, until I saw that this was also a hangar bay."

The look of realisation quickly dawned over Shepard, and he looked up towards the ceiling.

"EDI, activate the airlock barriers."

"Yes, Commander."

A curtain of blue light appeared at the entrance to the hangar/cargo bay, and Shepard walked out towards it.

"Who was that?" Elsa asked, following him.

"The ship's AI, EDI."

"AI? Don't you mean VI?"

"No. Cerberus installed a shackled AI into the Normandy. Say hello, EDI."

"Hello, Your Majesty."

Elsa couldn't tell where EDI's voice had come from, so she settled on staring towards the ceiling as Shepard had done.

"Hello, EDI. 'Elsa' will be fine."

Shepard glanced over his shoulder at Elsa, and raised an eyebrow.

"Usually, when we tell people about EDI, the 'AI' part makes them uncomfortable."

"Artificial Intelligence, despite what the Council and hundreds of movies would have you believe, probably isn't automatically evil. My snowmen are technically artificial intelligences."

For a given value of "intelligence", in Olaf's case. Elsa thought. She loved him with all her heart, but Elsa had to admit that even after several hundred years Olaf still had the mind of a child: creative, curious, and brilliant in it's own way, but horribly naive and lacking a great deal in common sense.

"Glad we see things the same way." Shepard replied, before sticking his hand through the blue light. He waved it at Elsa, before pulling it back into the cargo bay. "You know how kinetic barriers work, right?"

"They distort gravity to deflect incoming attacks."

"Well, this is a particularly weak distortion. Any amount of force will push through it, but the atmosphere of the hangar won't. It's also sometimes used as an emergency airlock seal. It's new tech, developed and prototyped only a few years back. Hasn't hit the civilian market yet."

"Well, I guess I'll be sleeping down here then." Elsa said, satisfied that she wouldn't be sucked out into space on a regular basis.

"I'll have a cot brought down while I'm giving you the tour."

"No need. There's beds in the cargo container. In fact, it's been designed to act as a bedroom while I'm here." Elsa glanced up at the windows that looked out onto the hangar/cargo bay as she said this. Knowing that Marshmallow would only fit into the cargo bay of a ship, bringing the container would allow her a modicum of privacy. Even now, she saw two figures looking down at her: a scarred man with graying hair and a sour demeanour, and what appeared to be a Krogan.

Shepard lead her towards the elevator, the shield fizzling from existence and the hangar doors closing behind them. Elsa detoured towards the corner where the container had been deposited, and rapped gently on the door. The locked beeped silently and the door swung open, unleashing a tide of Snowgies upon which carried Olaf out into the hangar. Marshmallow stepped out behind them, stretching out to his full size once he passed the threshold.

"Ooooh, I just love this place!" Olaf said, as he began wandering around the room. "It's all grey! And boxy! Except for that box up there, that's a white box."

Shepard glanced at Elsa, eyebrow raised, before looking back at the snowmen.

"Can you guys stay here while I show Elsa around the ship?" Shepard asked the snowmen, who nodded in response. Well, except for Olaf, who had already walked off to look around the cargo hold.

Shepard lead Elsa into the elevator and hit the button for the next floor. As the doors closed and the whirr of the motors began, he turned to her and smiled.

"I almost forgot. Welcome aboard the Normandy, Elsa. Welcome to my own little piece of paradise."

"You called me?" Shepard asked as the doors opened.

He'd given Elsa the tour of the ship and made her familiar with a few of the more welcoming crew members. Jack, Zaeed and Grunt had been avoided, if only for safety's sake. After the standard half an hour of pre-flight checks, they'd taken off and set a course for Illium, an Asari world on the edge of Terminus systems.

He'd never been to an Asari planet before, but he'd heard the stories. Opulent, decadent, shiny… Illium was no different on the outside. On the inside, the high crime rate and questionable ethical practices of the corporations based there made it quite clear: Illium was the bastard child of Omega and Noveria, adopted by Asari.

Two of the three dossiers pointed towards it, and it was also where Giorgio Conti's girlfriend had gone missing. From a simple, logistical point of view, it made sense to go there next.

What he was about to hear just sealed the deal.

"Shepard," Miranda said. "I find myself in the unpleasant position of asking for your help."

Up next: Miranda's Loyalty Mission, Elsa's first day on the Normandy, and Shepard espouses on the psychology of knowingly walking into a trap.