#angara

 “We’re being contacted,” Suvi cautions, her voice trembling. “Six aircrafts have surrounded us.”

 Ryder can barely hear her over the thundering in her own ears. They just outran the Kett. They just outran the Kett, and now there were more people surrounding her damaged ship. She squeezes the railing in front of her, her fingers aching. All she can think is please don’t shoot. Two of the aforementioned aircraft fly slightly ahead of them, forcing Kallo to slow the ship down.

 What do they do? Ignore them? Evade them?

 “We have to land,” Ryder decides. “Open a comm.”

 The system’s speakers crackle to life all around them, and Ryder’s chest grows tight as she holds her breath. Please don’t shoot.

 “Tove jagalesh do.”

 Silence follows and Ryder opens her mouth to answer, but she finds herself at a complete loss for words. What do you say, to people who don’t speak the same language? How do you show you mean no harm? The last time she tried, she got shot at.

 “Tove jagalesh do,” The voice repeats, a little louder.

 “We’re visitors from another galaxy,” She says, wincing. “Our intentions are peaceful.”

 Please don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot.

 “Paav, nele set do.”

 “They’ve sent us a nav point,” Kallo informs, and relief floods through her veins. She relaxes her grip on the railing, flexing her fingers slightly.

 “Set us down,” She orders, rolling her shoulders back as the Tempest glides through the air. For the first time since they entered the planet’s atmosphere, Ryder takes a second to look at the local ecosystem. Dark grey rock spans her visual field, fissures of molten lava illuminating the ground. Plumes of thick smoke emerge from vents, but Kallo steers the Tempest to avoid them confidently. It is by all accounts volcanic, spanning across miles and miles of the planet’s surface.

 “You’re sure we’re at the vault’s coordinates?” Peebee questions, leaning on Suvi’s chair. She doesn’t expect the chair to swivel under her weight, and she stumbles slightly, jostling Suvi in the process. To her credit, Suvi doesn’t look the slightest bit annoyed, instead chiming back with a soft “I’m sure.”

 Liam sidles up beside Ryder, squeezing her elbow reassuringly. “Okay, boss?”

 And… there, on the horizon, steadily growing closer and closer. Specks of green turn into luscious vegetation. They slow even further as they approach the settlement, and Ryder feels the back of her eyes grow hot. Hundreds of shades of greens, oranges, purples. Kallo steers between towering trees, flying into mist from a waterfall. Built into the cliffs and around the trees span platforms and buildings- a city within a rainforest.

 “Yes. Look at that. It’s beautiful,” Ryder breathes.

 Blue coverings make up the roofs, and it is not the slightest bit out of place among the vibrant hues of these unrecognisable plants. Guided by the aliens- or, well, the natives- Kallo lands the Tempest precariously on a dock barely big enough to fit them.

 “We need in that vault,” Ryder says, pushing strands of her hair out of her face.

 “Please,” Vetra protests. “You’re not really going out there on your own.”

 “We can’t afford a repeat of last time,” Ryder says, and she tries to push the image of her colleagues, lying dead on the ground. She tries not to imagine her father. “I’m the Pathfinder- first contact is on me.”

 “Most important thing ever,” Liam says cheerfully. “No pressure.”

 For a moment, Ryder’s mind is filled with the Kett and their encounter mere minutes ago. She looks at her crew- her responsibility- all of them staring at her with varying degrees of wide-eyed fear of the unknown. She looks at them, and knows this may be the last time she ever sees anything that looks like home.

 Ryder grins then, cocking her head to her side as she walks backwards out of the bridge. “If this goes badly, if I get eaten alive, even if it’s hilarious,” She pauses, giving them a wave. “Please destroy the vids.”

 Ryder makes her way to the other end of the ship, stopping to give the ship’s Pyjack a quick hug. It screeches at her affectionately, curling its tail around her arm before she lets it go. Gil lowers the ramp, watching her descend from behind the glass.

 The air is crisp. Cleaner than she anticipated with all the volcanic activity surrounding this place. It’s slightly humid, but after all the time spent on Eos, she’d glad for a little moisture in the air. She can hear a distant rushing of waterfalls, some quiet chirps and buzzing from the local wildlife.

 Ryder keeps her hands raised, walking slowly and calmly to avoid any scares. Aliens rush toward her, all kitted out in protective gear and weapons. They close in on her, and maybe two or three of them speak- she isn’t sure. Ryder just follows along as they shuffle her off the landing pad, keeping several weapons trained on her at any given time.

 These aliens are all larger than her, broader than her, and she can’t see over their heads. For a few minutes Ryder walks silently, seeing nothing but the armour on their backs. Eventually, they lead her into a cell. One of the aliens gesture to its door with its gun, and Ryder complies.

 The Tempest is receiving language databanks. I believe they mean to sync up our translators, SAM informs her.

 She sits cross-legged on the ground, her hands in clear view resting on her knees. Her mouth begins to dry, and she runs her tongue along her teeth to try and ease the discomfort. Ryder has to sit there for the better part of a day, and she does so obediently. Every so often, she asks SAM how much time has passed, and it irks her that less and less time passes between each query.

 Just as she’s sure she’s about to go insane from boredom, two aliens enter her cell, starling Ryder. She straightens, slowly getting to her feet as they watch her. The larger one takes a step towards her, its hands on a rifle. It’s the other one that speaks first, though.

 “I am Paaran Shie. I am the Governor of Aya,” She introduces, her hands clasped in front of her. “We are the Angara.”

 “Hello,” Ryder greets. “I’m a Pathfinder, with the Initiative.”

 “Yes, you crossed dark space. I’ve heard of your journey.”

 Ryder pauses then, confused. Was this knowledge a recent development? Or had they known the whole time? The other Angara steps forward then, towering over her.

 “Aya is hidden, protected.” It says slowly, and Ryder stares back at it, trying to appear unintimidated. “What do you want?”

 “I apologise,” Ryder says honestly. “Landing here the way we did, without warning, on fire, was not the plan.”

 “That is good to know. Because if it was, that would be a very bad plan.” Was that it’s attempt at humour? Oh, she desperately hoped so.

 “I will inform Evfra. He will be waiting for you in his office at the Resistance Headquarters. I will meet you there.” The larger pink one says, turning on its heel and leaving the cell.

 Paaran Shie gestures to the entrance of the cell. “I will accompany you through our city. Your crew will stay on your ship. Follow me. Do not try to explore the city or interact with anyone. Evfra’s guards will use force if necessary.“

 “Understood,” Ryder says softly as they walk out of the cell. Two guards flank her, their guns trained on her back. “Is it okay to ask you questions?”

 “I suppose,” The Governor responds, glancing at her.

 “If you’re the Governor, why do I need to see this…Evfra?” Ryder hopes she doesn’t completely butcher the pronunciation of his name, and by the lack of visible reaction from the Governor, she assumes she’s in the clear.

 “He’s leader of the resistance.”

 “What’s that?”

 “They fight the Kett, and protect us.”

 A resistance against the Kett? The angara are at war with the Kett. But why?

 They walk in silence for a little while, and Ryder tries to compliment the city around them. The Governor begins to slow as they approach a large building with more guards in front, already aiming at her.

 “What happens if Evfra doesn’t like me?” Ryder turns to Paaran Shie, hoping for some sort of insight into this Evfra.

 “He won’t,” She says imply. “But you have to earn his trust.”

 “He’s responsible for everyone’s safety. I know what’s that like.”

 “You are a leader?” Paaran Shie asks curiously.

 “Trying to be.” And with that, Paaran Shie leaves her, letting the guards escort her into the building. She walks past several aliens who all stare at her like she has two heads. To be fair, she had grown up with different species, and was used to aliens looking different. They probably had only seen the Kett.

 The large pink angara from earlier approaches, waving off the guards. “Our experience with the kett makes us naturally distrustful of all aliens.”

 “We’ve had our own run ins with the kett,” Ryder shares.

 “Then you really do understand,” He says. “When the Archon came to heleus he demolished our sovereign state. Took what he wanted, as if we were nothing. Now, the kett mercilessly abduct our people. Often, we never see our people again. Come this way. Evfra is waiting.”

 He begins walking through the building, and Ryder follows. His strides are long, but he slows to match her pace.

 “Wait- the kett kidnap you? Steal your people?”

 “And the resistance fights them every day. With everything we can.”

 “Is it attrition? What are they after?”

 “You should save your questions for Evfra.”

 The enter what appears to be an office, with several angara manning computers. At the far end sits a desk, where an Angara hunches over a datapad.

 “Kadara be damned,” He snarls. “I won’t lose Voeld.”

 “Evfra, this is one of the aliens from the Meelky way,” The pink alien gestures to Ryder. “A Pathfinder.”

 “‘Pathfinder’.” The leader of the Resistance turns to face her. His skin reminds her of watercolours, a rich blue with violets. There’s a scar that runs down the left side of his face, disappearing under his clothes. His gaze is intent upon her, no doubt surveilling her as she was him. One interrogation after the other. “It’s an aggressive move, coming to Aya.”

 His voice resonates through the room. Like with every other non-English speaker, his voice feels multi-layered through the translators, like Ryder’s brain is lagging slightly and can’t quite keep up. Despite that, Ryder picks up a gravelly undertone unlike the voices of the other Angara she had spoken to thus far. No, that- that was his voice.

 “It wasn’t meant that way,” Ryder responds, holding his gaze. He did not seem threatened nor angered by it. “I have an ark full of desperate people counting on me to find them a home before they starve.”

 The Resistance Leader shifts then, tilting his head slightly. “Of course, I feel for you and your people,” he acquiesces.

 It takes every last braincell of Ryder’s not to gape at him, already thrown way off guard. He felt for her and her people? Who said stuff like that, in a situation like this? Even if he did have the slightest, most minuscule amount of sympathy for them, why in the world would he admit to it?

 He continues, unaware of how he had already baffled her. “So Pathfinder, never mind how you even found us, why are you here?”

 “On a hostile planet we call Eos, I explored an ancient structure.” The Commander keeps his gaze on her, watching. Evaluating.  “A vault, and brought it back online. It stabilised that planet’s environment.”

 “Remnant,” Pink Alien nods, his voice warbling over the translators. “Recent intelligence supports that claim”

 “If I’m right, theres a vault on Aya thats… different. I need to look inside.”

 Evfra turns his back to her, walking to the edge of his office and gazing out a window. Then, he stuns her again. “You’re right. There is a vault out there.”

 Had she bumped her head and fallen into some weird alternate universe where complete strangers were honest and uncalculating? Ryder stares at him openly, trying to decode the creature before her.

 “But it was shut years ago, and the entrance hidden. We… cant help you,” He admits, sounding almost sorry for it.

 “The Moshae could,” Pink Alien says before Ryder can even begin to process the strange Resistance Leader.  “She’s our most revered scientist and elder. She knows this vault.”

 “But the kett have her, and our rescue attempts failed. She’s lost to us. And you.” Evfra appears to glare at Pink Alien, but Ryder doesn’t let his dissatisfaction stop her.

 “Let me show you what I can do,” She requests, trying to keep her voice agreeable to avoid any landmines. “I won’t take one step without your approval.”

 “You have no idea what you are dealing with,” The resistance leader snarls, turning his anger onto her. Something sharp crackles in the air. Landmine activated. “The Angara learned years ago the perils of messing with vaults. So did the kett for that matter. We’re done here.”

 No. No- they couldn’t be done here.

 Ryder steps forward, holding her hands out placatingly- but it is unnecessary.

 “Evfra,” Pink Alien says. “I feel… what this alien says is extraordinary.”

 What.

 “Jaal, you talk too much,” The Resistance Leader responds, but he listens nonetheless. Interesting.

 “Let me assess this alien. I will be your eyes. I know you can spare me,” Jaal says, and Ryder’s gaze turns to him. The Resistance leader snarls, his bioelectricity crackling throughout the room once again. It isn’t enough to make Ryder uncomfortable or hurt, and she wonders if that was on purpose.

 “Go if you want,” The Resistance leader retorts. “But when it tries to kill you, be prepared to strike first.”

 As Evfra stalks off, Jaal turns back to her. “I am Jaal Ama Darav. I will be your envoy through Angaran space.”

 Ryder inclines her head. “Thank you for trusting me.”

 “I do not,” Jaal says immediately. “But I can always kill you in your sleep.”

 Brilliant.

————

 All things considered, Ryder says to SAM. That went much better than expected.

 The Angara did not eat you alive. 

 She risks a glance behind her as she walks up the ramp of the Tempest, Jaal Ama Darav following after her. Two other Angara also follow, each of them carrying boxes. They could be anything- weapons, poisons, bombs, food, personal items. They’re probably filled with food and personal items though. Sending off a quick message to Vetra to do a complete inventory, Ryder rolls her shoulders, wincing at a crick in her neck. 

 A shame. She muses. I thought I looked quite yummy today. 

 From the information I could gather, SAM chimes, sounding mildly alarmed. I do not have sufficient evidence supporting the claim that Angara eat meat, nor would they eat you raw. 

 Joke, SAM, she informs gently, coming to a stop in front of the Nomad. Forward the recording of Aya to Kandros and Lt. Harper, mark it as extremely confidential. 

 Footage sending. Footage sent. 

 And let’s stick to the private connection until the Angara can be trusted, yes? Inform the rest of the crew. 

 Yes, Sara. 

 It was insisted by her, just days ago. The Tempest was headed to the Nexus for the first time since its departure over a month prior. They had accomplished impossible things, resetting a vault and starting up a new outpost. I’d like us to be friends, SAM, she had said, a little hesitantly as if he would judge her, fiddling with a small Citadel model. When it’s just us, call me Sara.

 A fascinating request, in his view. Alec Ryder had never crossed into realms of such informality with him, SAM was AI, and Alec was Alec. There were times Alec would encourage SAM to develop his skill of humour, but Alec never expressed a desire to be… friends. In fact, Alec had done the opposite. He once specifically told SAM that he had to obey orders- no matter what he might think or… feel. SAM appreciated the experiences he drew from his time with the senior Ryder, but Sara viewed the universe in a different way. 

 “Lieutenant,” She calls, arms behind her back. The Angara straightens to attention, gaze snapping forward from where it was previously surveilling the ship. “We will brief my team first. They will have several concerns that need to be addressed. After which, I will give you a proper tour of the ship, and make introductions.”

 “Of course.” He says. The other Angara give him a farewell, eyeing her warily. 

 And that’s all he says as she leads him to the lift, past a wide-eyed Gil and a Vetra with her claws tightening around a gun. He regards them both in silence, following the Pathfinder up into the meeting room. Ryder can’t blame them for the incredulous looks on their faces- she herself hasn’t quite made heads nor tails of the situation just yet.

 “Tempest Crew to the meeting room immediately after take-off,” she says into the Tempest-wide speakers, taking up position at one of the holo-comms. Ama Darav settles in the seat behind her. She starts working on a short report to the Nexus, Kandros first; as head of Militia- if things went south, he’d need all the heads up he could get. Mere seconds could make all the difference. 

 “Bridge reports;” Kallo’s voice chimes in on her omni-tool. “Ready for take-off at your command, Pathfinder.”

 “Into orbit, Kallo. I want you at this meeting as well.” Turning to face the silent Angara, she gives him what she hopes is a gentle smile. “Kallo is our pilot. He’s the only Salarian on-board.”

 Ama Darav inclines his head to show that he heard her, and she suppresses a slow exhale as she turns back to her tablet. She sends the report to Kandros, and it’s less than a minute later that he responds with a simple Stay safe. 

 “How many crew-members do you have?” He breaks the silence, startling her. 

 “Nine. Ten, including me.”

 Another bleep on her tablet alerts her to more messages; from Kesh and Addison, both expressing diplomatic concerns but telling her to remain vigilant. There’s another one from Director Tann. It doesn’t surprise Ryder to see the long and repetitive email expressing his distaste at her decision to not go directly to him with information regarding the Angara, and how as director of the initiative-

 Sara sighs, rubbing a hand over her face. It was going to be a long day.

————

 Most of the crew have gone to bed by the time Ryder corners Cora.

 The older woman is in the bio lab- as she’s been whenever Ryder seeks her out. 

 Lt. Harper sighs when she sees Ryder enter, and it immediately pisses her off. Even so, she waits for the door to slide shut before speaking.

 “That… will not happen again.” Ryder says firmly, steeling her shoulders and tilting her head up. 

 Raising her eyebrows, Lt. Harper glances around the room as if searching for something imaginary. “...What?”

 “You, undermining me in the briefing room.”

 Lt. Harper sighs again as though speaking to a toddler, and something red hot bubbles up in Ryder’s chest. “Listen-”

 “No, you listen.” Cutting her off, there was no longer a need to continue pretending to keep her cool. “I get that you have a problem with me. Hell, if I were you, I might’ve punched me by now. That’s fine.”

 Momentarily stunned, Harper takes a step back. “I don't have a problem-”

 “I’m not done.”

 In the silence, Ryder becomes hyper aware of the faint whooshing of the plant misters beside her.

 “I respect you, Harper. I respect what you’ve done for yourself, I respect that you’re in a difficult position. You are an excellent fighter and second, and I very much would like for you to continue to be my Lieutenant, if that is also what you want.

 “If you take issue with a decision I am about to or have already made, then by all means, talk to me about it. This is not a dictatorship. But if you ever directly undermine my authority again- in front of a representative from a people we cannot trust, a representative that has no doubt been pinging any and all of our weakness to exploit-”

 “I… I’m sorry, Pathfinder.”

 “I don’t want your apology. I want assurance that it will not happen again.” 

 Harper lifts her head, standing at attention. “I will not put you in that position again.”

 Ryder’s own stance relaxes a little, guilt seeping into her very bones. God, how she hated pulling rank. 

 “Good.”

 She turns to leave when Harper calls out for her. 

 “I noticed the ship started moving. Have you decided on a destination?”

 “Yes. Voeld.”

 Harper nods. “Because of the Resistance presence? We can scope them out.”

 “No.” Ryder shakes her head. She then shrugs, tilting her head to the side. “I mean, yes, we can do that and we should, but that’s not why I made the decision.” “If you don’t mind me asking-”

 “I don’t.”

 “Why?”

 “Havarl is too presumptuous.” Ryder says simply. “Imagine if the Turians just showed up on Earth immediately post-first contact.” 

————

 “I’m stuck with two snipers, then?” Grunting, Drack side eyes Ama Darav. It doesn’t escape Ryder’s notice that he places himself between the two youngins, and she doubts Ama Darav misses it either. 

 “Yer better be quick,” he tells the Angara as the ramp begins to open. Ryder braces herself at the rush of cold air. “She shoots the damn bastards before yer can get close.”

 “That’s my job,” she replies morosely, the freezing temperature immediately souring her mood. 

 Her job also includes trying to be charming and trustworthy and kind to strangers that were literally pointing guns at her face, while she tried to pretend she wasn’t two seconds away from sprinting back to the Tempest for some warmth. 

 Her job included shooting more kett, which was fine, and then repeating introductions and promises of being trustworthy and I’m Sara Ryder, I’m here to help, dad, dad, daddy look, don’t mind the Krogan and hello, I’m the Human Pathfinder (still feels like she’s parading around a stolen title), is there something I can help with, daddy are you watching?, no no, don’t worry about the frowny grisly looking guy (maybe she should’ve brought Harper instead), and oh hi, are you looking, daddy watch me, didn’t see you there, you’re glaring at me pretty hard, is there something I can do for you? Dad did you see that?

 None of this was supposed to go this way. 

 She wasn’t supposed to be the hope of the Milky Way. Humanity’s beacon or whatever her father had been described as. ‘Humanity’s chance to carve out our own space’ was all fine and good until you had to be the figurehead. No pressure right? Even if, say, she managed to broker a fragile trade treaty with the Angara. Or at worst, an agreement to ignore each other. Even if she managed to help the settlings of worlds. She was the face of humanity now. Commander Shepard had been a remarkable figurehead, but she was mostly scoffed at by other species. And Sara… she was no Commander Shepard. She didn’t want to be Commander Shepard. God- even her name- Shepard? Ugh. 

 Five years ago, minus the 600-something year cryosleep travel, Sara had it planned out. Not completely- Murphy's law and all that, but she had goals. 

 She had years of pocket-money set aside and a couple dozen months of part-time salaries saved up, and by the age of 18 and a bit she’d be out of the house and in a Uni dorm. On Earth. 

 Not that the Ryders really had a ‘house’ with how much her father moved around. 

 Sara initially felt guilty leaving Scott behind, but he’d recently expressed a desire to sign on with the Alliance, just like his father before him. 

 So this was the plan: get into a university, do well, take a year or two to study Promethean ruins. She’d find a nice partner somewhere around that time and if they weren’t human, hope they’d be open to considering settling on Earth. Sara didn’t grow up there- only visited her mother’s mother a few times, but she figured it would be nice to have a stronger emotional tie to something solid. Something that wasn’t her crumbling family. Maybe have a few kids or dogs or cats or something, and get her PhD. 

 She’d do it. She’d have that nice adventure and then have her picket-fence life. Sara could and would do both. Maybe to stick it to her parents; with her father never physically there and her mother always emotionally with him. 

 Then of course Mum’s illness that ‘sometimes’ caused headaches left her unable to care for herself. With Dad burying his head in whatever project he was doing and Scott several systems away, it took Sara a total of one week to drag herself back to the little Citadel apartment and drag her mother back to Earth, to her mother’s old country home. 

 Sara quit her job, gave up her ambitions, and sat there while her mother glowered at her. It had to be degrading, Sara supposed. It can’t have been easy to let your child see you in that state. To have your child have to break down the bathroom door and pick you up, naked, covered in your own piss, off the floor. But still, every glare her mother gave her, especially after every call with her beloved son and husband where she insisted she was fine and happy, it stung a little bit more each time. 

 Sara wasn’t bitter. She wasn’t. Grief makes you do strange things, and she knew that. 

 Grief was weird, in that Scott didn’t visit once. Grief was weird, in that Dad’s visits were more about whatever he was doing than his dying wife. Grief was weird, in that after the seventieth argument ending in her mother screaming at her, Sara wished for her to just die already. It wasn’t out of anger, but it was so that everyone could all just move on to lives they were already living. Everyone but her. 

————

 When Jaal awakens later that night, it doesn’t take that long to realise where he is. He’s familiar with the ice rooms in the Daar in Techixx, Krogan is asleep in the corner or not. A soft rumbling sound leaves the beasts’ chest, and for a moment Jaal finds it soothing. Like thunder, off in the distance. Jaal turns his head, gaze searching the thin mattress beside his. The small bed that held the Pathfinder, however, sits empty.

 Jaal leaps up, grabbing his eyepiece and handgun. He curses himself for leaving his sniper with a technician overnight, having only a close range weapon. No matter, he is a good shot regardless. Even if he misses- which he won’t- but even if he does, there are at least a dozen guards on guard duty at each entrance, even at this time of night. He doesn't have to make it too far out of their room before an engineer gestures to where they had last seen the alien visitor. Jaal weaves his way through the daar, guards confirming every few steps that the alien had left through a small side entrance and had not strayed too far. 

 He isn’t too sure what to expect. Is she speaking to other aliens in privacy? Is she scoping out the daar for weak spots to plan an ambush or attack? Is she seated on the frozen lake, motionless?

 What is she doing there? Sitting without her helmet, out in the open? Were humans not averse to the cold? Dangerously so?

 Then he hears it. The songs.

 “Yevara,” Ama Darav says as he nears her. She doesn’t startle, and Jaal realises she knew he was there. Perhaps she heard him approach. Her gloved palm flattens against the clear layer of ice beneath her. Creatures glide through the water beneath them, their whale-songs making the ice vibrate. 

 “They’re beautiful. Could we get closer?”

 “You are not permitted to harm them.” The Angara snaps, and the human dips her head down, out of his line of sight. “That’s not-Their songs are beautiful. That’s all.”

 “The Yevara are highly respected. It is said they used to guide sailors to shore before the scourge.” 

 Ryder turns to look at Jaal, who has been studying her the whole time. “The scourge?”

 “After the scourge, Voeld froze over. Oceans turned into deserts of ice. Voeld was not the only world affected.”

 “What caused the scourge, do you know?”

 “No. Nor do I care. The Kett are our priority.” He says dismissively, the reference a mere footnote in the History lessons he has heard. 

 Dusting her hands on her pants as she straightens, Ryder inclines her head towards the Angara. “Thank you for showing me your beautiful world. It is an honour.”

-----