Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Reyes was going to kill the Human Pathfinder.

The longer he stood there, leaning on the sun-heated wall of an armour shop as the torrent of people rushed past him, the more appealing the idea became. Even though his face betrayed nothing of his thoughts, the market-goers seemed to sense his growing irritation and were now giving him quite a wide berth. 

That was Kadara for you. You either learned to recognize a threat, and do it quickly, or you became a gruesome visual aid that others stumbled upon in a dark alley.

The Ryder girl, by all appearances, would fall into the latter category.

Reyes’ lips pressed into a thin line as he recalled the way their meeting at Kralla’s Song had gone.

He arrived early.

That fact had nothing to do with punctuality, however, since his intention had been to take a discreet look at Humanity’s backup Pathfinder before the introductions were made. He’d expected to cross paths with her father at some point, or his second-in-command, to whom the mantle should have been passed, and he’d made sure that he knew all the relevant information about those two. 

Instead, he’d have to deal with Alec Ryder’s daughter, who he knew next to nothing about. Her personal record was disappointingly concise, and his people were still working on an inconspicuous way to procure her performance evaluation conducted by the Tempest’s physician. That left him with an insufficient amount of data to draw conclusions about the kind of person Amelia Ryder was.

Reyes Vidal, however, was the kind of person who did not go into a situation unprepared. Thus, he’d decided he would see for himself which of his assumptions were true before he approached her.

The girl appeared right on time. 

Reyes considered her slender, somewhat delicate figure clad in pristine steel-grey Initiative uniform, wondering if that particular choice of attire indicated supreme self-confidence or lack of foresight. 

His keen eyes followed her as she headed to the counter and leaned on it with one elbow, turning to watch yet another patron receive a lesson in manners from the bar’s owner.

The little show made him smile wryly. He rather liked Umi and her hands-on approach. In addition, she had a sharp hearing and even sharper memory – a valuable bonus that he knew how to put to good use.

Judging by the Pathfinder’s raised brows, the bartender’s particular brand of problem-solving made an impression on her. It was hard to tell if the impression was positive or negative, though, as her features became carefully neutral quite fast. Ryder appraised the asari for a moment, and then returned to scanning the room.    

Reyes had to admit that the conclusions of his quick scrutiny were conflicting. Her cool expression, improbably neat short haircut and colour preference that declared ' I mean business' were at odds with her nonchalant posture and a lively kind of curiosity in the way she examined everything around her. Intrigued, he decided it was time for a closer look.  

He pushed off the wall, leaving his vantage point at the far end of the bar, and sauntered toward her. The greeting rolled off his lips with practiced ease.  

“You look like you’re waiting for someone,” he said, gesturing Umi for drinks.

The Pathfinder turned and gave him a quick once-over, pausing to accept the proffered beverage before her eyes settled on his yet again.

“And you look distinctly non-angaran, Shena,” she pointed out matter-of-factly, clinking her tumbler against Reyes’.

Well, that saved him half the introduction.

He grinned. “You don’t say.”

They downed the whiskey and she took a step forward, extending a hand. “I don’t know about you, but I hate codenames. I’m Amelia Ryder.”

Huh.

Reyes had always been good at taking the lead in a conversation. It was comfortable, familiar. He knew exactly what to say and how to steer the talk just where he needed it to go. That was how he preferred it. 

The Pathfinder’s self-confidence was adorable, really, but this exchange would not be different.

“You can call me Reyes,” he answered, taking her hand in his and making a step forward of his own, stopping just shy of too close. “And I despise codenames just as much,” he added smoothly, lowering his voice to a purr.

She fell silent, her cheeks turning faintly pink.

That’s better.

Pleased with her reaction, Reyes was about to slip into his monologue, but, apparently, Ryder had other ideas.   

“I must confess, I am envious,” she admitted, looking up at him with a wry grin. “You’ve managed to charm Evfra into working with you. I'm still convinced he'd rather drown himself in the nearest fountain than have a conversation with me. And I thought I was impossible not to like!”

If Reyes weren’t used to keeping his expressions in check at all times, one of his eyebrows would probably arch at that change in demeanour. 

The Pathfinder that entered the bar gave off the vibe of a composed, no-nonsense kind of person. The smirking girl standing in front of him was too glib for her own good. The two personalities clashed so badly that the only possible explanation was that one of them had to be completely fabricated. The question was, which one?         

While he was trying to decide whether he was amused or annoyed by her behaviour, Ryder spoke up again.

“So, Vehn Terev. Do you know where I can find him?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Reyes nodded, pausing to make sure she wasn’t about to interrupt him, and this time, miraculously, the Pathfinder kept silent. Satisfied, he stepped away from the counter and guided her to the balustrade.

The view that opened from there was gorgeous. In this respect, Kralla’s beat Tartarus fair and square. The murky seclusion of the slums’ establishment was excellently suited for his line of work, but he needed to come up for air sometimes, both literally and figuratively. That’s why he often chose Kralla’s as a meeting place – when the content of the conversation to be had wasn’t overly sensitive, of course.

Ryder seemed to share his opinion – she looked rather enthralled by Kadara’s harsh beauty. As he spoke, her eyes were slowly wandering from one mountain to another, stopping at a distant glimmer of a pond or an occasional burst of scarlet in places where the local coral-like plants prevailed. Her expression was so captivated, in fact, that one might suspect the Pathfinder was only half-listening to his rundown on the situation. That could not be the case, but he still felt vaguely irritated at the thought.

“Actually, that Sloane Kelly character doesn’t sound so bad,” she commented, turning to face him.  “I’m sure if I ask nicely she won’t mind releasing Vehn into my custody.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Your positive thinking is commendable, but I doubt it will be that easy.”

Judging by her carefree shrug, Ryder didn’t share his scepticism. That kind of attitude would get her into a lot of trouble. Especially on a planet like Kadara.   

Luckily for the Pathfinder, Reyes was willing to help. It was part of his plan, after all.    

“But,” he continued, leaning closer to her, “there might be another way to get to Vehn. You work Sloane…”

“And while I’m at it, you can arrange for plan B. Perfect!” she nodded approvingly. 

And then she pushed away from the railing and headed for the exit.

He blinked and stared after her.

Halfway to the stairs, the Pathfinder spun around.

“Meet me at the market in twenty minutes?” she offered, and then added, the same smug grin from before playing at her lips, “and thanks for the drink!”

And then she was gone.

Returning to the present, Reyes checked the time on his omni-tool. 

Forty-three minutes. He’d been standing here, waiting for her, for forty-three minutes.

For the girl’s sake, he hoped Sloane had murdered her.

Finally, the doors of the Outcast HQ slid open, and out she strode. 

Alive, well, and not showing even a hint of remorse.

He exhaled through his nose and called out her name, arranging his face into its customary amiable expression. The marketplace was bustling with activity, so it took some time for her to pick her way through the crowd.  

“Sorry I’m late,” the redhead chirped, completely unperturbed, as she stopped in front of him.

He folded his arms, wondering briefly whether she’d be that flippant if she knew exactly who she was talking to.

“Have a nice chat?” he asked levelly.

What the hell had she been doing there for so long, anyway? He seriously doubted Sloane’s ability to tolerate someone this annoying for an extended period of time. And, in Ryder's case, an extended period of time meant anything longer than ten seconds.

“Actually, yes,” she nodded, mirroring his stance. “Her Majesty was quite civil and even let me speak with Vehn.”

For a split second, Reyes’ smile became slightly strained, but he quickly composed himself. The girl was really getting on his nerves now. “So… no need for plan B?”

Ryder’s eyes crinkled with mischief. “I was so nice and convincing but she still didn’t let me take him. So, now I just have to do it!”

She motioned for him to follow her down the narrow alley and behind the corner of the armour shop. After a quick check of their surroundings, she turned back to him.

“While I was enjoying my little tour of the royal palace, I managed to do some discreet scanning. Turns out there are very conveniently placed maintenance shafts around here. I’m fairly certain that one,” she pointed a thumb behind her shoulder, “leads to the cells.”

Very well, she was at least somewhat competent, after all. The method she employed to get the intel wasn’t exactly ideal, though. She could have been caught in the act quite easily. 

Someone might say Ryder had been lucky, but Reyes didn’t believe in luck. He believed in facts, and the facts said the cause of her success was, most likely, the Outcasts’ guards’ less than impressive IQ. 

Still, getting the information was only half of the job. It was what you did with it that counted.

“So what’s your plan?” he inquired conversationally.

“Well, I am going to hack my way through,” she shrugged, “and then test out some of the exciting omni-tool mods I’ve recently installed on the cell door.”

Nice idea. A pity it won’t work.

For quite some time trying to override the port’s locks had been one of the popular hobbies on Kadara - apart from stabbing people and looting the resulting corpses. That was the reason the security protocols were changed. Now at a hint of interference, the system went into lockdown and could only be unblocked by the correct code. Which she could have had by now if it weren’t for her being so sassy.

Oh, this was going to be good.

“So, is there any way I can be of assistance?” he asked pleasantly, his previous frustration with her all but forgotten.

“If you could keep a lookout while I’m dealing with the console, that would be really nice!”

She exuded such confidence and enthusiasm that he almost felt bad for what was about to happen. Almost.

“Why, of course!” he purred. Sauntering to the railing, Reyes turned around and gave her an encouraging smile. The Pathfinder flashed him another sly grin, and strode to the shaft’s entrance, preparing her omni-tool on the way. Several moments passed in silence.

Three...two….one…

“Umm, Reyes?” Ryder’s voice was deliciously uncertain.

He made his reply sound casual, and a bit concerned, because he wasn’t enjoying this. Not in the slightest.

“Yes, Pathfinder. Is something wrong?”

“I’m not sure, but it seems like the system went into lockdown.”

He walked up to her and dutifully examined the console from over her shoulder. “Hmm, looks like you are right. You won't be able to open it now. Unless you have a code.”

Ryder cast a glance at him, her brows drawn together in a frown.

“I don’t. Obviously,” she waved at the red lock symbol helplessly.  “So… What about that plan B of yours?”

It took a considerable amount of his self-control not to let his amusement show.

“Well, it's funny that you ask…” he answered, leaning in from behind her to input the required combination. The lock chimed softly and switched to cheerful green. Ryder stilled momentarily, then slowly turned around. When she lifted her eyes to peer at him, they were dangerously narrowed. Some people would definitely find the glare she was giving him frightening. 

Reyes found it extremely satisfying to behold.

“You knew the code,” she spoke haltingly, as if she had to hand-pick every single word, “and didn’t tell me?”

He shrugged, a picture of innocence. “I would have, had you asked.”

Ryder’s lips parted, but not a sound was able to escape. For a moment the girl just stared at him, and he noticed that there were tiny blue sparks dancing in her irises.

It looked like anger made the Pathfinder's control over her biotics slip.

Interesting.

Ryder closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she met his gaze again, they were back to plain hazel.

“All right, I’m asking now. What did you have in mind?”

He answered her with one of those playful grins she herself seemed so fond of using, and then explained the few remaining details of his much finer plan. This time she listened with rapt attention, her focus completely on him and his words.

When he finished speaking, she looked him over once again and shook her head.

“We are not going to be friends, you and I,” she deadpanned.

Then she turned on her heels and escaped into the gloom of the shaft.

Reyes snorted at her proclamation.    

Just about an hour ago, he would have agreed with her on that account. Now, however, having to deal with the cocky Pathfinder didn’t seem like such a nuisance. The girl was insufferable, that part was still true and very obvious, but apart from that, she remained a puzzle to him. And Reyes liked solving puzzles.  

There was another thing he knew for sure, he thought, as he headed back to Tartarus, a slow, devious smile spreading across his face.

Teasing her would definitely be fun.

Chapter Text

“And then he just casually reaches out and punches in the code,” Amelia exclaimed incredulously, jabbing her index finger into the galley table, the freshly brewed coffee in her other hand dangerously close to spilling all over the floor. “Can you believe this guy?”

She slumped onto the sofa next to Peebee, slamming the mug down with a loud clack. Retelling the highlights of the yesterday’s visit to Kadara Port irritated her all over again. It wasn’t like her to be affected so easily. But a mere thought of that smug, arrogant, condescending...            

“So,” Peebee drawled, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “what I think you are trying to convey here is...”

She made a dramatic pause, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “... you like him!”

Amelia shoved the chuckling asari away, rolling her eyes. “Very funny, Peebs. Have you even been listening?”

“Of course I have,” she answered, smiling into her own mug. “But I think you’re only mad at him because he’s used your own tricks against you.” 

“It’s not that,” Ryder frowned, her voice growing serious. “I know the type. People like him don't care about anyone but themselves. They may pretend to care, but in the end you're nothing but … ” she trailed off, suppressing a sigh. It was a lesson she learned the hard way, but digging up that particular memory was the last thing she wanted. She shook her head, as if the motion would help her clear it from the unwanted thoughts.

“Okay, that was a minute of psychology with Doctor Ryder,” she said, accompanying her remark with an apologetic laugh. She could see the unspoken question in Peebee’s eyes, but she knew that her friend wouldn’t pry. It was a rule the two of them had established early on, and one of the reasons they got along so well.

“Bottom line: we need his help, so we’ll have to work together,” Amelia continued, “but I doubt he can be trusted.”

“Got it,” the asari smiled. “He’s terrible. That’s why I must go with you and make sure he behaves.”

“What would I do without you?” Ryder wondered aloud as she put an arm over Peebee’s shoulder.

“I honestly don’t know! But there’s a way you can repay me for being so awesome and stuff...” she wiggled her eyebrows.

Amelia snorted and lifted her eyes to the ceiling.

“SAM, please ask Jaal to grab his gear and meet us at the hangar in 30 minutes.”

“Yes, Pathfinder.”

She could swear Peebee’s squeal of delight was still ringing in her ears when the three of them stepped out of the elevator and headed to the slums.

   ***

The Roekaar had never seemed particularly reasonable to Amelia, but that Farah character was just plain crazy. And, judging by the bloodthirsty gleam in her eyes, very eager to cut the three of them into ribbons with her fancy knife. The situation was manageable, but far from ideal. They were surrounded, and though her training sessions with Cora enabled her to cast a pretty decent biotic shield, its range was too short to reach Peebee and Jaal. She couldn’t put them at risk.

Even if at the moment neither of them was in her good graces. She was fairly certain it was Peebee’s doing - how could Jaal come up with that same idiotic “you like him” if not for her? All she did was wonder at their Kadaran contact’s whereabouts. It was a perfectly normal thing to be concerned with. He had promised to meet them, hadn’t he?

Of course, there was a possibility that Vidal had been planning to lure them into this psychopath’s lair all along. Or maybe he simply wasn’t the kind of man who jumped into the fray to help people he barely knew.

What if the Roekaar got him?

Amelia pursed her lips at the thought. She didn’t like him one bit, but that didn’t mean she wished him harm.

“You’re all the same!” the fanatical angara hissed, raising her hand to point the dagger at Ryder.

The movement was interrupted by a well-placed shot that knocked the weapon right out of her grasp. There was a sound of purposeful footsteps descending the stairs, and a moment later Reyes materialized at Amelia’s side, all confident and dashing, as if he was the lead in some action vid.

For one crazy second, she imagined him hiding somewhere behind the corner, waiting for the most dramatic moment to make his entrance. The vivid mental image caused a short but fierce battle against a stupid grin that threatened to break free and ruin her perfectly unimpressed look.    

All right, the entrance was kind of impressive. But he didn’t need to know that. He was already insufferable enough .

“You’re late,” Amelia deadpanned, concentrating on keeping the amusement and something that felt suspiciously close to relief from seeping into her voice.

“I’ve got a good reason,” he replied in that smooth way of his, training his rifle on the baffled angara.

Then the explosives detonated, taking out half of them, and it all became beyond ridiculous. How the hell did he pull that off? Sneaking into an enemy base all by himself was a very risky move. She seriously doubted it was necessary.

Unless, of course, he wanted to make an impression.          

Well, he isn’t the only one who can put on a show.

In one fluid movement, she rolled forward and picked up the gun dropped by one of the Roekaar. Luckily, there were enough of them left in the cave to help her demonstrate her skills.

Amelia had always been competent in a fight - she had a twin brother who loved to antagonize her, after all - but today she’d surpassed herself. She moved through the battlefield like a force of nature, gun and biotics blazing. The performance had a very specific purpose, though, and it had been tailored for one specific viewer.  

Diving behind a crate opposite Vidal, she caught his gaze to check if she was having the desired effect. For a moment she thought the smuggler looked properly impressed, but then he shot her his trademark grin.

“You should be more careful, Ryder. Your shields are nearly dead from all that battering!”

She didn’t think it was possible to hate him even more , but apparently, she was wrong.

“Oh really?” she shouted back at him over the rattle of gunfire. “That only means I get to use my favourite method of recharging them!”

She gathered every last ounce of biotics she had into a vibrant halo of rippling blue energy and shot forward, crashing into the remaining Roekaar in a blinding explosion of light. Four precise swings of her asari sword later, the fight was over.

This time, when she turned around, she found Reyes staring at her. He immediately schooled his features into the usual amused confidence, but not quickly enough.

She actually did manage to surprise him.

Good.

“Wow, you’re on fire today!” Peebee cheered, beaming at her from the other side of the cave.

Ryder eagerly returned her friend’s smile, pleased with the results of the mission. “You two weren’t half bad either!”

“Ryder, I would like to go through their supplies,” Jaal said, motioning at the crates lining the walls of the cavern. “I’m sure they have medicines and food which the Resistance could use.”

“Sure thing!”

“I’ll help!” Peebee announced, and the two of them headed deeper into the cave to start the search.

“You did good, Ryder!” praised the velvety voice behind her, and she turned around to find Reyes leaning on the wall, appraising her with renewed curiosity.

The success of her little show had put the Pathfinder in a very good mood indeed, and she answered him with one of her most charming smiles.

“I know,” she said, the words sweet as honey.

He seemed to be waiting for her to return the compliment, and when it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything, he slowly strolled toward her, his grin becoming sharper with every step he took.

“Of course, when I just got here, things were looking rather...” Just like on the day of their first meeting at Kralla’s, he stopped right at the edge of her personal space, but this time he bent even closer to breathe the last word right into her ear. “...ugly.”

She felt her blood turn to liquid flame. It burned throughout her body and lapped at her composure, threatening to reduce it to ashes in a matter of moments.

He straightened, and the devilish sparks in his whiskey-coloured eyes told her that he knew perfectly well that his tactic was working.

Smug bastard. She would not be fazed by his dirty tricks, no matter how handsome he was.

Handsome? For God’s sake, Ryder, get a grip!

She copied his smirk and purred, “Well, this is what happens when your supposed partner is so …”

He was a head taller than her, and she couldn’t whisper in his ear the same way he'd done without rising onto her toes. Instead, she leaned forward, bringing her face inches from his. “...unpunctual.”

Their eyes locked in mutual defiance. The air around them grew thick with tension, yet neither of them was willing to step away and back down.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, and they both snapped their heads toward the source of the sound.

The moment Amelia saw Peebee’s innocent smile she knew that the asari was up to something.

“Lia, we have a little problem,” she announced.

“Lay it on me,” Ryder answered, crossing her arms.

“This place is packed with useful stuff, and the Nomad is not large enough. If we want to grab everything and still make it to the port before the Resistance's ship departs, someone will have to give up their seat,” she waved her hand in the general direction of the vehicle. “You know... so that there would be more space for the crates.”

Amelia didn’t like where this was going, though she couldn’t say why. “So, what exactly did you have in mind?”

“Well, transporting cargo isn’t a job worthy of a Pathfinder,” Peebee drawled, shifting her gaze to the man standing beside Ryder, “I was hoping Mr. Vidal could take you back to the port. He looks like a perfect gentleman to me.”

Nice try, Peebee. But this practical joke won’t play out. He will not --

“Oh, it will be my pleasure!” Reyes answered, and it was all she could do not to whip around and gawk at him.

“Thanks!” Peebee beamed, looking back at the girl she was supposed to be a friend to. “See you on the Tempest!”

With a cheerful wave, she spun and headed back to Jaal.

Traitor.

Ryder let out a long sigh and turned to Reyes. Just like she suspected, he was watching her, undeniably pleased with himself.

“I don’t know what you are up to, but it won’t work,” she warned.

He put a hand over his heart, feigning a hurt look. “You wound me. My intentions are pure. I promise.”         

He finished the sentence with a wink, and she knew she was in trouble.

Chapter Text

“Here we are!” 

After a short walk, in the duration of which not a single word yet a lot of suspicious (on the Pathfinder’s part) and amused (on his part) looks had been exchanged, they were standing next to his shuttle. He’d left the engines running, so it was hovering low above the ground with a familiar, steady murmur. 

As Ryder took in the spacecraft, the wary expression on her face shifted, giving way to curiosity.

“Fancy,” she remarked.

He couldn’t help but grin at the unexpected compliment. 

“Thank you! Made all the modifications myself, in fact.”

It certainly was a welcome change after his service in the Alliance, where all the vessels were identical and underwent standard maintenance procedures. The military required strict order, yet to achieve the best possible result, one had to be flexible. 

For all its faults, the Initiative recognized the fact that to succeed in Andromeda they’d need to be able to adapt. This was the reason why he, along with other pilots who possessed the required skill set, had basically been given free rein of his assigned shuttle. He’d started working on it pretty early on and was still tweaking it here and there. Besides the obvious benefits of personalised customisation, it was also a pretty good way to unwind when he wasn’t in the mood for company. 

Ryder regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “A smuggler, a pilot, and a mechanic? You are full of surprises.”

He was absolutely sure he hadn’t mentioned his initial occupation in their conversations.

Someone has clearly been making inquiries.

“You have no idea,” he replied smoothly, filing the thought away.

Reyes punched in the code to disengage the lock, and the door slid open with a low hiss. Then he turned to the girl and offered her his hand.

She gave it a sceptical look, then narrowed her eyes at him.

“Are you trying to fluster me?”

“Your charming friend over there,” he nodded at the entrance to the Roekaar hideout, where her two teammates were busy loading up the Nomad, “called me a gentleman. It would have been very rude of me to refute her compliment.”

Looking thoroughly unconvinced, the Pathfinder hesitated. It seemed that she was trying to decide whether it would be smarter to ignore his gallant gesture or to just go with it - and deny him the satisfaction of making her back down from a challenge, which it undeniably was . 

In the end, her stubborn side won out.  

Raising her chin, Ryder placed her armoured hand in his and hopped into the shuttle. It didn’t escape his notice that she moved deeper into the shadow before facing him again.   

“It’s not working,” the girl declared.

Reyes followed her inside and pretended to check the control panel just over her right shoulder. Her face remained inscrutable as he leaned in, she hadn’t moved an inch. That was an impressive level of self-control the Pathfinder was demonstrating. Unfortunately, with skin that pale, even in the dim lighting of the shuttle’s interior the blush on her cheeks was as bright as the northern lights.

Sure it isn’t.

Suppressing a smirk, he headed to his seat. 

As his hands were retracing their familiar journey over the controls, it occurred to Reyes that it had been quite a while since he’d taken anyone with him. The last time had been back in the Milky Way, actually, since after their arrival in Andromeda he’d only made a couple of short scouting trips and cargo deliveries. He’d grown used to being alone. 

And the statement applied to more than just flying.

Finished with the pre-flight checks, he strapped himself in and glanced over at his unanticipated passenger.

The Pathfinder was quite preoccupied with the safety belts. Her palms glided over the harnesses, slender fingers carefully checking every single buckle before finally lacing together in her lap.   

“You seem a little tense, Ryder,” he pointed out, amused and, at the same time, vaguely offended by her apparent discomfort. It was as if she half expected them to crash.

If he had to, he could pilot this shuttle blindfolded, with one hand tied behind his back. However, he never was one to brag.        

Ryder’s eyes darted over at him.

“I prefer to be on the safe side,” she replied, shifting the ‘amused to offended’ ratio toward the latter. “We don’t exactly get along, so who knows what you’ll do next? What if you decide to do that scary somersault thing?”

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

“You know,” she continued impatiently, waving her hand in the air to illustrate. ”That thing when an aircraft does sort of a loop.”

“A barrel roll?”

“Yes, that .”

A corner of his mouth twitched.

“Whatever would I do that for?”

“I don’t know, to show off?" she shot him a pointed look. "To make me admit that I'm impressed? Which - once again - I am not.”

Stubborn, indeed.

“And here I thought you were finally coming round!” Reyes shook his head in pretend disappointment.

Ryder just continued staring at him, and he chuckled.

“Don’t worry, there will be no barrel rolling. I promise.” 

“Thank you,” she replied primly, settling back into her seat as the engines rumbled awake.

He made the lift-off nice and slow, to let her enjoy the full extent of the enthusiasm with which her teammate - Peebee - was waving her off. Judging by the expression on the Pathfinder’s face, there was definitely going to be a conversation about it later.

The shuttle gained the necessary altitude. As he set a course back to Kadara Port, his thoughts returned to Ryder and her friends. 

Based on what he’d seen of their interactions so far, the closest relationship the Pathfinder had was with Pelassaria B'Sayle, aka Peebee. He still hadn’t figured out why, though.

Reyes had talked to the girl several times since their initial meeting. He'd also read the numerous reports on her activities both on Kadara and off-planet. By now he was fairly certain she was a much more serious person than her flippant, happy-go-lucky attitude suggested. So, he’d say someone more down-to-earth - like the turian, Vetra Nyx, or her second-in-command, Cora Harper - would have been a better match. 

Yet, her choice of best friend wasn’t what intrigued him the most.

From what information his agents had gathered while the Tempest was travelling the cluster, as well as his personal observations, the Pathfinder was on good terms with all members of her crew, without exception. That was no mean feat, considering how diverse a group they were. More than that, Ryder avoided open conflicts in general, always choosing the diplomatic approach and smoothing ruffled feathers whenever the situation called for it. And that made him wonder why she behaved the way she did with him.

Reyes decided to try and approach the problem directly. And if there was a good time to do it, it was now, since in the next seventeen minutes the only way for her to avoid his questions would be to jump out of the shuttle.

“So, Ryder,” he began conversationally, ”I’m getting the impression you don’t like me very much.”

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and then her expression became flat.

“I’m not sure why you’d think that,” she answered, brushing off an invisible speck of dust from her knee. “I’m perfectly civil.”

“Perfectly,” he echoed with a small smile.

When their eyes met, the Pathfinder stiffened, as if she was a child caught stealing cookies before dinner. Reyes could almost see the scales tipping back and forth in her mind.

Deflect.

Admit.

Deny. 

Concede.

At one point, she looked like she would actually prefer to jump out of the shuttle rather than have that particular discussion with him.

Then, with a dejected sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Okay,” she said, sinking a little deeper into her seat. “The thing is… I don’t really trust you.”

Clever girl.

He considered her admission.

“A healthy modus operandi, if there ever was one,” he replied amiably. “Be that as it may, I’m still curious - what is the cause of your suspicion?”

“You really want me to say it?”

“Honesty is the best policy! Or so they say.”

She huffed quietly and then gave him a very thorough once-over. This kind of scrutiny didn’t bother him much, but it did make him feel a bit as if he was a mysterious box someone had left on her desk, and she was deciding whether it was going to blow up in her face if she tried to open it.

“You are too… smooth .” 

Reyes snorted at that. Her reply was certainly original. He’d expected something more along the lines of ‘You are a criminal living in the murder capital of the cluster and obviously doing well for yourself’.     

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” he retorted with a small chuckle. 

“In your case? It totally is,” she deadpanned.

“I shall endeavour to be more awkward then.” 

“As if you could .”

Reyes smirked.

“Already you know me so well!”

Over the years he had met a lot of different kinds of people, but Pathfinder Ryder was unique in the way she managed to simultaneously insult and praise a person, and be so charmingly sincere about it. He’d go as far as to say it was her trademark - just like her AI partner.

“Jokes aside, though. I’d like you to be able to trust me,” he said, his voice turning serious.

And he did mean it. Her allegiance was an important element in his plan to get rid of Sloane. The Outcasts had to be dealt with, and the stronger the connection between the Pathfinder and him was, the lower the chance of her choosing the wrong side in the impending conflict would be. 

Yet, when he said the words out loud he realized that gaining her trust was something more than a good strategic move for the Collective.

It was what he himself wanted, too.

Reyes didn’t have the chance to examine that strange, out-of-the-blue thought any closer, as he was interrupted by the insistent beeping of Ryder’s omni-tool.

“Excuse me,” she said, ever the polite one, and turned her attention at the notification that had popped up on the screen.

“Pathfinder, there is an undocumented mineral in this area,” SAM reported.

“It’s that last one we haven’t scanned yet, right?”

“Correct.”

She hummed thoughtfully and leaned closer to the window, her fingers drumming on the armrest of the seat.

“How do I get up there?” she murmured under her breath.

“Is there some kind of problem?” Reyes inquired.

“More like a nuisance,” she replied distractedly, still focused on the landscape below.

He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t elaborate. Whenever they talked, Ryder hadn’t been keen on sharing any details about her work - just like any personal information. Everything he did know - which was less than he’d have liked - he’d had to find out from other sources.

And though Reyes had promised her his help, she had yet to take him up on the offer.     

“Ryder, I believe Mr. Vidal could be of assistance in the matter,” SAM announced.

Apparently, her AI companion didn’t share her reservations.  

The Pathfinder straightened in her seat and glanced down at her omni-tool, where a tiny sphere of light representing SAM had appeared.   

“You do?”  

“Yes. My analysis of the terrain suggests that the optimal way of reaching the location in question is by air. Mr. Vidal is currently piloting an aircraft suitable for obtaining that objective.”

The girl fidgeted, watching Reyes from the corner of her eye. 

“Um…” she cleared her throat. “I suppose he is.”

Why did she hate the idea of asking for help so much? Was it because she wanted to prove her ability to operate independently? Was she too proud? Or she just didn’t want to ask for his help, specifically?

Whatever the case, her AI had provided a perfect opportunity for him, and he wouldn’t squander it.

“I did say I’d be willing to lend a helping hand,” Reyes reminded her, keeping his tone casual. “What do you need?”

She hesitated for another moment, looking at him and then to the side as if she was listening to someone - it appeared that SAM was saying something to her using their private connection.

“Yes, okay, you have a point,” the Pathfinder grumbled. “God, why do you have to be so rational?”

Ryder shook her head at the AI’s avatar and then half-turned in her seat so that she was facing him.     

“It will probably sound extremely boring…” she admitted. “I’m helping out our chief geologist on the Nexus. There are several new minerals on Kadara, and I already have most of the samples and scans I need. But the last one is somewhere on top of a mountain. The Nomad can only get about two-thirds of the way up. I was thinking of climbing the rest of the distance, but, like SAM said, it would be easier to just fly there. So...”

By the end of her explanation, the Pathfinder was almost babbling. Though it was kind of adorable, he didn’t want to add to her obvious discomfort.

“Just send me the coordinates,” he asked, sparing her from the dreadful task of articulating the actual request.

The relief on her face was so clear to see it was almost comical. 

Talking to Ryder was always akin to a ride on a roller-coaster. She could make him go from grinding his teeth to holding back laughter, sometimes in the span of one sentence. It was a completely different experience from what his usual interactions with people were like. 

Yes, at first, he hadn’t been completely sure what to think of the Pathfinder. As time passed, though, he’d made a surprising discovery that he actually enjoyed talking with her. It made him feel lighter, somehow, more like his old self back from the Milky Way. When things looked brighter. When he hadn’t yet stopped caring about anything else but revenge.

His omni-tool chimed, bringing him back from the darker turn of his thoughts, and he changed their course so that they were headed to the nav point Ryder had just sent him.

The mountain loomed ahead. Its top looked as if the middle and the side closest to them had been carefully scooped out, leaving a large flat area half-surrounded by rocks, as if in an incomplete embrace. As they drew nearer, a crescent-shaped lake on the far side came into view. In the rays of the setting sun, the surface sparkled red as if it was filled with rubies instead of water. 

This place looked like it belonged on a postcard.    

“Wow,” Ryder said softly.

“Wow, indeed,” he agreed. “And you said it wasn’t going to be exciting.”

She glanced at him, then lifted her shoulder in a half shrug.

“Well, I suppose it can’t all be about fighting for survival and sorting through terrible options. We must stumble on something nice from time to time, too. If only so that when we are back to the pain and the suffering, we can really feel it.”

“Now that’s a very positive outlook on life,” he commented wryly.

“What can I say? I’m a true optimist.”

The open space beside the lake was covered in grass, and it undulated in waves beneath them as he gently brought the shuttle down and landed. They both unstrapped. Then he followed the girl as she stepped outside and started looking around.

“This shouldn’t take up too much time,” the Pathfinder said, activating her omni-tool. “As soon as I locate the mineral, I’ll do a quick scan, take a sample, and we’ll head straight to the docks.”

And then she turned on her heels and marched off toward the lake before Reyes had a chance to reply. 

He shook his head at her retreating back. Maybe he was the last person in the cluster to point it out - with his tendency to drive himself to exhaustion dealing with the logistical nightmare of running the Collective and juggling all of his alter egos on top of it - but the girl needed to relax.

He decided to give her space, and headed in the opposite direction, to the side that was free of any rocks and probably provided a great view of the badlands below. Near the edge, where the mountain dropped steeply away, there grew one of the local plants that reminded him of a giant mushroom. He stopped next to it and leaned on the stem. 

If they’d thought the mountain top they were on looked nice, the panorama that opened before him here was nothing short of breathtaking. Surely, he had seen Kadara’s landscape from above plenty of times when he was flying over it, but it was not quite the same.

Govorkam was halfway down the horizon. Like an ebbing tide, its amber light was slowly pulling back from the valleys, making all the shades and hues of the planet especially bold. In contrast with the deepening purple of shadows, the scarlet and orange of the Kadaran flora burned like fire. And far across that sea of living colour lay Kadara Port. The light reflected from the rooftops of its crude prefab buildings, making the city look as if it was cast in gold. From way up here, one could easily mistake it for a capital of some fairytale kingdom that had sprung right off a page of a children’s book. 

And very likely end up dead in an alley within five minutes after crossing the city limits.    

“I’m done!” Ryder announced, coming up to stand beside him. “We can --”

She stopped abruptly and, for a long moment, just watched.

“Okay, I take it all back. A view like this is worth all the pain.”

He smiled slightly at that.

“And the suffering?”

“And the suffering, too,” she agreed wholeheartedly.

Reyes thought about offering her to stay a little longer. He seldom got to have moments like this, when he could just savour something pleasant and not think about much else - if only for a short while. Yet, reluctant as he was to leave, Ryder would probably not appreciate the idea. He could guess what her reply would have been - she’d probably raise an incredulous eyebrow at him and state that enjoying a sunset together strongly implied a date, and the two of them most emphatically were not on one.

He wondered idly what she would have said if he had asked her out.

Now that’s a stupid thought, he chided himself.

Their relationship was turbulent enough. Besides, he wasn’t interested in wooing her. He wouldn’t mind being friends, he could admit that, but he did not need anything more than that.       

“Are you ready to leave?” he asked instead.

Ryder paused before answering, as if she was considering something, then nodded.

“Yes. I’ve wasted enough of your time already.”

“I wouldn’t call it a waste,” Reyes disagreed mildly, following her back into the shuttle.

“Still, it’s not like you planned to be saddled with dragging the annoying Pathfinder all around the neighbourhood.”

They took their seats. This time, the girl strapped in quickly, not giving the task any conscious thought.

They lifted off and headed into the deepening twilight.

“Especially when there’s a mountain of shady stuff for you to do back at the port,” she continued with a tiny smile.

That was certainly an improvement over their earlier controversy. Even though Peebee had been pursuing her own goal - namely, the angaran member of their crew - her idea to send Ryder back with him had proven to be very advantageous.  

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” he chuckled.

The Pathfinder fidgeted a little, looking down on her lap, then back at him.

“In any case… Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” Reyes replied sincerely.

Done with the slightly uncomfortable task of expressing gratitude, Ryder lightened up again.

“Can you believe we’ve just had a normal, civilized interaction?” she shook her head in disbelief. “What is this world --”

Yet again her omni-tool came to life with a series of urgent beeps. Ryder brought her forearm up and concentrated on reading the message. She scrolled it down… and down... all traces of humour draining from her face.

Reyes suddenly found himself wishing he could make whoever the missive had come from sorely regret sending it.

“Bad news?” he asked.

She pursed her lips.

“It’s Tann. He needs me to get back to the Nexus and sort out another … situation.”

He should have guessed. The salarian had fucked up everything else he’d got his grabby hands on, after all.

He heard Ryder let out a long, resigned breath. Then she started typing out a reply.

No, that just wouldn’t do.

She would go and deal with the Director’s mess - it wouldn’t be the first time, and the salarian’s incompetence was a guarantee that it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last - but she didn’t have to immerse herself in it right now.

And Reyes knew just what to do to snap her out of it.

Discreetly shifting his gaze to the side, he made sure that the Pathfinder hadn't missed any buckles in her more carefree state earlier.

And then he sent the shuttle into a series of 360-degree spins.

It wasn’t a particularly difficult maneuver, but he didn’t want to scare Ryder by appearing anything less than completely focused. Only when he finished the last roll did he allow himself to look.

The Pathfinder’s hands were tightly clutching the armrests of her seat, and she somehow managed to look pale and flushed at the same time. Her perfectly neat haircut was now disheveled, and several copper locks had fallen into her eyes. In passing, Reyes noted that this look suited her much better.

“What,” she breathed, “was that ?”

His answering smile was a picture of innocence.

“I just thought you needed a distraction.”

She took in a shaky inhale, then slowly faced him.

“You promised !” she seethed. “You said there would be no barrel rolling!”

“I did,” he confirmed easily, and she almost choked on her next breath.

It took all of his considerable will to keep his poker face intact.

“So you lied ?” 

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did !”

Why he was having so much fun pushing her buttons he would probably never know. It was a fact, though. He enjoyed it immensely. But she was getting really angry with him - he saw the blue fire of her biotics ignite in her eyes - so it was probably wise to explain himself.

“I promised you no barrel rolls.”

She just stared at him, uncomprehending.

“SAM, would you help me out here?” he asked. “What is the type of roll I’ve performed called?”

“You performed a series of aileron rolls, Mr. Vidal,” the ever-helpful AI replied.

“See?” he tilted his head at her. “I’m a man of my word.”

She slowly turned away from him and lowered her face in one hand, covering her eyes. The email interface blinked out, Tann’s message disappearing with it.

The silence stretched.

“Reyes,” she finally spoke, her intonation slow and measured. “I have two things I’d like to say to you.”

It was nice hearing her address him by his name - it was the first time she'd ever done it, in fact.

“I’m all ears.”

“You are a jerk,” she stated in that same matter-of-fact voice, as if she was talking about Kadara’s orbital period and atmospheric pressure.

He shrugged, nonchalant. 

“Guilty.”

When she didn’t continue, he spoke up again.

“And what’s the second?”

Ryder lifted her face from her palm. Then, surprisingly, she threw him an absolutely lovely, roguish, crooked grin.

“Can you do it again?”

Chapter Text

To: Reyes Vidal

From: Amelia S. Ryder

Dear Reyes,

I hope this email finds you well.

I would like to once again express my gratitude to you for helping me acquire the mineral sample for the Nexus science team.

In addition, I believe I owe you an apology for my earlier behaviour. And for calling you a jerk. It was very unprofessional and impolite of me, and you can rest assured that it won’t happen again.

Sincerely,

Amelia S. Ryder

Human Pathfinder

Amelia groaned and slumped back in her chair. She’d been sitting at the desk in her cabin for almost an hour, writing and rewriting the email, yet none of the versions she could come up with satisfied her. She didn’t want the message to be overly formal but, at the same time, wasn’t comfortable with it being too personal. It had to be meaningful without being wordy. Earnest, yet witty.

In short, it had to be just right.

With a frustrated sigh, Ryder stood up and started pacing.

It was a simple email - she wrote dozens of those every day, to all kinds of people, and the topics she had to discuss in them were much more serious. What was even more confusing was that it wouldn’t be the first time she emailed Vidal, either. So why was she having so much trouble now?

Lost in thought, the Pathfinder didn’t register the sound of her door opening. Neither did she notice a visitor saunter inside.

“Knock-knock!” Peebee chirped, plopping down on the couch.

Amelia nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Jesus, Peebee!” she exclaimed, whirling toward the asari. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

The rogue academic gave her a sceptical look.

“I passed literally in front of you. Some recon specialist you are!”

“I was thinking!”

“What could have possibly got you so preoccupied?” the asari wondered, following the question with a lopsided grin. There wasn’t even a shadow of guilt on her face.

Amelia folded her arms.

“I don’t know, maybe I was reflecting on the fact that my best friend threw me under the bus?”

Peebee dismissed her claim with a careless wave of her gloved hand.

“It can’t be called throwing under the bus if it has been for both our benefit!”

Well, if she was waiting for an apology, it was clear she wasn't getting any.

Ryder let out a long exhale and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Sooo… How was your date?”

The memory of Reyes and her watching in comfortable silence as Govorkam made its glorious descent below the horizon immediately sprung up to the forefront of her mind.

“It was not a date,” she deadpanned.

Peebee rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. But did you have a good time? Come on,” she patted the couch beside her, “tell me everything.”

Well… If she wanted to sort out the situation, maybe it would help to talk about it.

Amelia sighed and joined her friend, folding her legs beneath her as she sat.

“It was very awkward at first,” she said, recalling the beginning of their trip.

As long as there were people around them, be it her teammates or just random bar patrons, acting like she was unphased by Reyes' teasing had been difficult, but manageable. Being trapped in a tight, enclosed space with him alone, though… It was impossible not to be affected. She was keenly aware of his presence, all the time, even if she tried to avoid looking at him. One could just as well turn their back to a bonfire, close their eyes and pretend not to feel the heat.

“He certainly managed to fluster me, and I expected him to rub it in.”

“Ah, yes, your little unspoken competition,” Peebee nodded. “But I’m guessing he didn’t?”

“No,” she admitted slowly, “he did not.”

“Ha!” Peebee kicked her feet up onto the coffee table and smacked her on the shoulder. “I told you he was nice!”

“It looks like you were right. Remember that last mineral sample I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to get to? He flew me there.”

“Oh, thank the goddess. I was so tired of you complaining about it!”

Amelia pursed her lips.

“I’m sorry that my dedication to completing the tasks I have started upsets you.”

“I know, I know. You and your lists,” Peebee sighed.

“If you aren’t interested in the rest of the story --” Ryder began, moving to stand up, but the asari hastily pulled her back to the couch.

“Okay, okay, lists are the best. Couldn’t do without them!” she assured the Pathfinder. “Please, continue!”

Ryder levelled her with a look that clearly said she wasn’t buying it, and returned to her recount of the day’s events.

“Then I got a message from Tann, and he decided to distract me from it by showing off his piloting skills.”

Habitat 7 had left her with a bit of low-key anxiety about shuttle rides, and it terrified her when they started spinning and the land suddenly decided to fight the sky for the upper hand. She’d been contemplating whether it was a good time to start screaming when she caught the expression on Reyes’ face. There wasn’t even a hint of panic there. No. That was the face of a calm, confident man who was enjoying himself.

The moment she understood what was going on, her indignation flared so bright that it burned away all of her lingering fear. She wanted to yell at him. Or punch him. Or do both of those things. And then, when she calmed down, to her utter astonishment Ryder realised that the smuggler wasn’t the only one thrilled by the experience.

“A risky move,” Peebee bobbed her head thoughtfully. “Though, since you are sitting here, no worse for wear, I assume he’s good?”

Amelia recalled how Reyes - just as surprised and only too happy to oblige - showed her a couple more maneuvers after the first one, including the basic aerobatic figures and the infamous barrel roll. He also provided running commentary for her, explaining in just the right amount of detail what he was doing and why. It was kind of geeky.

She loved it.

“Very good,” she confirmed with a small smile. “He’s got real talent, and he knows his theory, too.”

“Theory?” the asari exclaimed and threw her hands in the air. “Okay, seriously. The guy is perfect for you. What other confirmation do you need?”

Amelia sighed and looked down.

It was true that she’d been glad to finally cross out the last item on her ‘Minerals on Kadara’ list. She’d also managed to forget - if only for a moment - about the giant mess they were in and just have a good time. Great, even.

And all that had been thanks to Reyes Vidal. The one she’d been bickering with for the better part of her stay on Kadara. Who she’d been telling herself over and over again couldn’t be trusted.

Well... She supposed she could tone down her suspicion for a moment and look at the whole picture dispassionately.

It had all started with the smuggler helping her on behalf of the Resistance. Then he offered to continue helping her personally, and he would have if she hadn’t been too doubtful about his motives to agree. After that, he asked for her assistance in stopping the murders, but it was more for the greater good than for his own gain. He could have simply sent her the coordinates of the Roekaar base. Instead, he risked his life and showed up for the actual fight.

He’d done absolutely nothing to warrant her distrust. So why was she clinging to her prejudice? Because she’d once trusted someone else like him and got burned?

Unbidden memories rose up from the deepest, locked away part of her mind: visions of slow, secret half-smiles, echoes of promises whispered in the dark. She firmly pushed them back down.

The gullible girl she’d been back then had stayed in the Milky Way. This was a whole new galaxy, and she was a new, better, stronger version of Amelia Ryder. One that wasn’t in the business of lying to herself.

She looked up at Peebee.

“I do like him,” she admitted. “He’s intelligent. Funny. Brave, even if a bit reckless. I genuinely enjoy his company.”

The asari studied her face for a moment and frowned.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming up.”

A corner of Ryder’s mouth lifted.

“But,” she conceded, “my life is complicated enough. I don’t need any ... romantic entanglements.”

“What about casual entanglements?”

“Peebee.”

“Ugh,” the asari threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. “You are taking these things way too seriously.”

“Blame my parents. Their one true love story kind of ruined me.”

With a sigh, Peebee put her arm over the Pathfinder’s shoulders, pulling her close. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

“So what? Are you going to avoid him from now on?” Peebee asked.

Amelia considered that option.

It would have been the safest course of action. Yet, the more she contemplated it, the clearer it became that she didn’t want that. She refused to be a coward. She would remember the mistakes of the past, but she would not let her fear control her.

She wasn’t looking for a relationship. She didn’t need a fling.

But why couldn’t the two of them become friends?

What was there to be afraid of? That he’d smooth talk her into falling in love with him?

She snorted at the idea.

Yeah, right.

She was much too smart for that now. Besides, with the number of heated looks he tended to attract in public, he was already drowning in admirers. He had no reason to concern himself with finding any new guests for that particular party.

She glanced at Peebee and lifted a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug.

“I guess I’ll try to be my more amiable self with him and see what happens.”

And if the friendship thing didn’t work out, they could always revert to the bickering.

Chapter Text

Reyes squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the tips of his gloved fingers to his temple.

The dull throbbing in his head was relentless . It was like a second, discordant pulse beating in time with what passed for music at the fine establishment that was Tartarus. But then again, the club had been named after a dungeon of torment and suffering for the wicked. Why be surprised that it lived up to its name?

He took a long swallow from the glass he was holding in his other hand, concentrating on the burn of whiskey to distract himself from a vivid mental picture of hairline fractures appearing in his skull as the song’s erratic bassline drilled into it. 

Escaping to his apartment for a few hours of shut-eye might help, but he still had people to meet, private calls to make, and encrypted reports to read — a variety of things that Ryder eloquently referred to as ‘shady stuff ’.

Reyes blew out a long breath and picked up the datapad he’d previously discarded in favor of some much-needed hard liquor. The topic of the report it contained was actually the Pathfinder herself. More specifically, the unfortunate efficiency with which she and her team disposed of his low-tier operatives. He’d given the order to leave Ryder alone right after their first meeting, since the girl seemed reasonable enough to consider an alliance with the Collective, and being shot at by its members would hardly help the future negotiations. However, the specifics of his organization didn’t allow for the word to pass through the ranks quickly, which meant he would lose even more people to her in the coming few days.

Unless she could be persuaded to focus solely on the Outcasts and yet-unaffiliated outlaws.

That was exactly what he’d been hoping to do by mentioning the “swanky hideout in Draullir” in their previous conversation. He’d made sure Crux and everyone else stationed at that base understood the utmost importance of making a good impression on the Pathfinder when she appeared. He’d had no doubt that Ryder would follow up on the lead — being both thorough and curious as she was — and she hadn’t disappointed. 

Reyes had been informed of her arrival a few hours back, which meant he would soon get a detailed report on the results of her visit.

His omni-tool buzzed lightly, alerting him to a new message.

To: Reyes Vidal

From: Kian Dagher

The Pathfinder is on her way up.

Well ... it looked like his own curiosity would be satisfied much earlier than he’d anticipated, though he would have preferred to have this talk at some other time when simply keeping focused wasn’t taking up almost all of his willpower. But he never would have achieved anything if he had folded every bad hand. So he would do what he always did in such cases. 

He’d bluff his way through. 

Reyes leaned back on the couch, assuming a more casual, relaxed position of a person who had nothing to hide, and whose head wasn’t about to crack open like a faulty thermal clip.

Still, it was very hard to hold back a wince when the door opened to let through not only Ryder but also a wave of noise so thick that if he lifted his hand, he would feel it rush through his fingers.

“And here I thought we’ve already moved past you having that reaction to my appearance,” she pointed out dryly, stopping a couple paces away from him.

Then her eyes narrowed, and she appraised him more carefully, taking in not only his expression but the slightly askew stack of datapads sitting on the table before him, accompanied by a bottle of whiskey. 

“Or is it a bad time?” she added, meeting his eyes once again.

The girl was more perceptive than he’d given her credit for.

He stretched his lips into a smile.

“Not at all. I just really hate this particular song,” he replied, gesturing at the couch adjacent to his own. “And seeing you is always a pleasure.” 

Her gaze remained skeptical, but she did sit down, her knee briefly brushing against his as she settled on the seat.

It occurred to him that it was the first time Ryder came to visit him alone. However, it wasn’t particularly strange, since it was rather late in the evening. She had probably already dismissed her team for the day. The hypothesis was also supported by the fact that she wasn’t wearing her usual silver-grey armor. Or the steel-grey Initiative uniform she habitually wore during her visits to the port. Instead, she had on a pair of slim black jeans and a hoodie, which was, surprisingly or not, also grey — a darker shade that reminded him of an asphalt road after the rain.

Reyes wondered if grey was simply her favorite color or there was some kind of story behind her peculiarly monochrome wardrobe, and then mentally shook himself. 

He needed to concentrate and get her talking about her trip to Draullir. Anything else, and especially his growing interest in Ryder’s personality, would have to wait.

He nodded at the whiskey bottle, “I’m even willing to share, which is the ultimate proof of my admiration. So...what do you say? Should I ask for a second glass?”

At those words — completely sincere, by the by — the doubtful look on the Pathfinder’s face finally melted away, replaced by mild amusement. The girl tucked one leg under the other and wrapped her hands around her shin, turning so that she was facing him.   

“I’ll pass, thank you. But I am deeply moved by the offer,” she assured him, the now-familiar wry smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Yet, there was also something about her that was different today. 

It wasn’t just the obvious — the casual clothes, or that perfectly at ease, carefree pose. Somehow, her whole demeanor changed in a subtle, but profound way. It was like there had been a dampening field around her, and it suddenly disappeared. Ryder’s smile was warmer, the sparks of mirth dancing in her eyes were brighter, and even though she’d been sitting in that exact same spot during her previous visits, the distance between them seemed to have shrunk.

And if he said it was an unwelcome development, he’d most definitely be lying.            

“How many good deeds have our illustrious Pathfinder performed today?” Reyes asked conversationally, pushing his earlier thoughts to the back of his mind for later examination.

Ryder huffed a quiet laugh.

“Not nearly enough to qualify for the title. It’s been a quiet day. Found some missing people — thankfully, not all of them were dead. Grabbed another plant sample for the head of Hydroponic Sciences,” she paused for a second, and then continued in a lower voice, “got invited for a cup of tea at the Collective’s secret base in Draullir.”

He raised a brow at her. “You don’t say.”       

“Well, technically, no hot beverages were involved,” she amended, ”but it felt like I only needed to say the word, and we’d go through the whole five o’clock routine. Complete with tiny sandwiches and pastries.”

Apparently, his instructions had been taken to heart. 

Good.    

“I didn’t realize the Collective were such a friendly bunch.”

“Neither did I. Turns out the Charlatan,” she raised her hands to air quote, “wants me alive. Awfully nice of them, don’t you think?”

He took a thoughtful sip and tilted his head in agreement.

“Looks like the Collective’s leader is willing to negotiate.”

“Either that or they simply can’t bring themselves to deprive the world of my sunny personality.”

She shot him a wry smile, but her face quickly grew serious.

“You’d think that after taking a tour of their base and talking to so many people, things would be much clearer,” the girl admitted, staring off into the distance. “But now I’m even less sure about this whole situation than I had been before.”

He definitely had thought that, and it was part of the reason why he had encouraged her to go to Draullir in the first place. Something must have gone wrong at some point, and he needed to figure out what.

Ignoring the fresh stab of pain in his temples, he leaned forward and rested his forearm on the table.

“I did tell you you could trust me,” he said, matching her earnest tone. “What’s troubling you?”

Ryder sighed and bit her lip, considering the question. When she started to speak, it was in a hesitant, careful manner, as if she was wary of the way her words may be received.

“The thing is … The way I see it, sooner or later I will have to decide whether to side with the Collective or the Outcasts.”

He let himself frown at that statement. 

Even if he hadn’t dismissed the possibility of Ryder somehow coming to an agreement with Sloane, he’d been pretty sure the chances of that were approaching zero. He knew for a fact the Pathfinder harbored no warm feelings toward the woman.  

“I thought Sloane has made it pretty clear she isn’t going to play nice with the Initiative,” he said. 

Ryder lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

“Well, yes, she has. Initially. But Her Majesty’s attitude has improved ever since I helped her solve that little problem with straggler Kett.”

Of course she did, Reyes thought, biting down on his frustration.

He suspected the rumors were true and had his men following up the leads on the unusual activity in the badlands. Had he managed to prove the Kett were still a threat, despite Sloane’s claim to the contrary, it would have been a serious blow to her reputation and a perfect opportunity for the Collective to strengthen its position.

But the Pathfinder just had to sweep in to save the day.

He knew he wasn’t really angry at her. Everything Ryder did was motivated, first and foremost, by her desire to help people, and by wiping out the Kett as soon as she learned about their presence she’d done just that — she ensured no one else was harmed. And he couldn’t help but admire her for that.

She didn’t care much for politics and power struggles. But maybe, if he had told her who he was…

“The problem is,” Ryder continued, “that I will have to choose between a greater and a lesser evil. And I can’t say I’m sure which is which.”

All right, that sure as hell wasn’t what he hoped to hear.

“Don’t tell me you are a fan of Sloane now.” 

She threw him a guilty look. 

“I’m not! She is nothing more than a glorified bully, and her people are brutal thugs. I will never condone her violent methods. Still, with the Outcasts … what you see is what you get. The Collective has that whole cloak-and-dagger thing going on, but it can turn out to be even worse .”

He really shouldn’t have started this conversation in such a state. It was getting exponentially harder to keep his temper in check.

Hadn’t she seen how much damage the Outcasts were doing? Did she not understand where Kelly’s particular brand of management was going to get them all?

“What can possibly be worse than open torture?” he asked incredulously.

Ryder watched him in silence for a moment, shoulders tense, mouth pressed into a thin line. It was obvious that the situation bothered her a great deal.

“How about torture practiced in secret, unbeknownst to even the Charlatan themself?”

His irritation faltered and gave way to confusion. What on earth was she talking about?

She picked up on his questioning look and continued speaking.

“Back in Draullir, I stumbled upon a block of cells where the Collective’s agents were punching information out of some poor guy. He was barely alive,” she scowled at the wall behind him and shook her head in resentment. ”I managed to make them stop, but only because they didn’t want to upset the special guest . And when I asked whether the Charlatan approved of it, one of them replied, and I quote, “What the boss doesn’t know won’t hurt them”.”

The more she said, the tighter his grip on the whiskey glass became.

Someone had decided to interpret their orders in a creative way. More than that, they chose the worst possible moment to show off their freethinking. 

Well.

They would not repeat this mistake twice.

But that was a problem he’d deal with later. Now he needed to run damage control with Ryder and make sure she didn’t draw the wrong conclusions from what she’d been witness to. 

He took a long breath. One by one, he forced his fingers to relax. When he spoke, his voice betrayed nothing of the cold fury simmering underneath his skin.

“I can’t claim to be an expert on the Collective, but even if they aren’t a shiny example of high morals, that doesn’t sound like their regular mode of operation. Besides, they said themselves they were acting outside the Charlatan’s orders.”

And it was the truth. Even if he was far from being a saint, he wasn’t unnecessarily violent or cruel like Sloane. And he cared about people just like Ryder did. He just had a more realistic code of ethics.

“Maybe you have a point,” she admitted carefully. “Still… They expected me, and I can’t help but wonder how much of what I’ve seen or heard is actually true; how much uglier the real picture is.”

Why was she being so difficult? She gave everyone else the benefit of the doubt. Why not the Charlatan?

His head was killing him. 

“This is Kadara, Ryder. The picture was not going to be pretty either way.”

The words came out harsher than he intended. For a fraction of a second Ryder’s eyes went round at his tone, and then immediately narrowed. She sat up straight.

“I didn’t think it would be. No matter the differences in their approach, Sloane and the Charlatan are both criminals. But at least with Sloane I know what to expect. And with the right incentive, she could be persuaded to—”

“Are you honestly that naïve?” he scoffed, slamming the glass down on the table. “No matter what you do, she isn’t going to forgive and forget what the Initiative has done. She will bring war to Heleus, and we will not be able to recover from it!”

He regretted the outburst even before he finished speaking.

It didn’t matter that her insistence on justifying an alliance with Sloane felt like a jagged knife twisting in his gut. Losing control like that was unacceptable.

But seeing the hurt look on Ryder’s face was even worse.

And that was the problem, right there. Somehow, despite his better judgment, he let things get personal. He didn’t just see the title any longer —  he saw the girl wearing it. And she didn’t deserve such treatment.  

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, disgusted with himself. 

“Listen, Ryder, I’m—”

“How bad is it?” she asked suddenly, her voice much calmer than he could expect.

Reyes looked up at her, uncomprehending. 

“What?”

“Your headache,” she clarified, then added in the same level tone, “Seems pretty bad to me.”

How did she even…

“I don’t—” he started, not wishing to admit it. 

Ryder held up a hand to interrupt him.

“Before you say anything, consider the implications. Do you really want me to think you’ve been mean to me for no reason?”

He searched her face, trying to decide if he could salvage the situation without confessing to his weakness. 

Ryder rolled her eyes and rose, circling the table to sit at the opposite side of his couch.

“Honestly, why is it so hard for men to admit these things?” she wondered aloud, and patted the seat beside her. “Come on, lie down. Your head needs to be right next to me.”

He arched a brow at her, but complied.

“Thinking of smothering me with a pillow?” he inquired with a small smile, looking up at the girl.

Once again Ryder folded one leg under her and shifted so that she could comfortably bend over him. Her face was mere inches from his, and her expression was dead serious. 

“Why, do you have any on hand?” 

The unexpected joke eased the pressure in his chest, and Reyes chuckled lightly.

She grinned back at him and brought her hands to either side of his head — not touching, yet close enough so that he could almost feel the warmth of her skin.

“I’m going to try something my mom taught me. She used to do it for Dad whenever he worked himself into a migraine,” she explained, glancing away with a fond, wistful smile. But when she met his eyes again, there was a distinct uncertainty in them.

“Though I should warn you that the trick involves biotics. Are you okay with that?” she asked hesitantly.

That did make him a little nervous, but not as much as he would have expected.

“I trust you,” he said simply.

And even if he had said the words before, he realized that this time he truly meant them.

Ryder looked surprised at his uncharacteristic solemnity, and then her whole face lit up. 

“All right. Close your eyes and relax.”

He did as she instructed.

For a couple of seconds, nothing seemed to happen. Then he felt a subtle pressure against his temples — it spread outward to his forehead and receded back, growing slightly and then abating. It felt a little like rolling ocean waves, but much more gentle and warm. The stabbing ache gradually morphed into an uncomfortable throbbing, and then proceeded to fade away.

Curious, he cracked his eyes open just a fraction. But Ryder didn’t reprimand him, because her own eyes were closed.

There was a blue glow emanating from her palms, and it seemed to pulse in time with her slow breathing, gaining intensity and dimming as her chest rose and fell. The azure of her biotics danced and mixed with the crimson of the Tartarus’ lighting, painting her skin in a myriad of subtle shades.

She looked ethereal.

Reyes didn’t know how long he’d been staring at her, unblinking, unwilling to break this strange spell. Yet, something must have given him away, because a corner of her lips lifted.

“I thought I said no peeking,” she murmured distractedly, most of her attention remaining on the task at hand.

“Sorry,” he replied.

And kept looking.   

She laughed quietly and shook her head.

“Cheater.”

As his gaze traveled along the smooth line of her jaw, over her softly curved mouth, and the faint constellations of freckles on her delicate cheekbones, a word bubbled up to the surface of his thoughts.

Beautiful.  

Why didn’t he notice before?

Reyes swallowed past the sudden tightness in his throat and quipped, “I think you like it.”

The ocean-blue glow receded and disappeared, and her eyes opened.

She looked back at him, an expression he couldn’t quite identify crossing her face, and then hastily pulled her hands back and turned away.

“So, um… How do you feel?” she asked, addressing the question to the bottle of whiskey on the table.

He slowly sat back up. “Good as new.”

“That’s … good,” she nodded, still talking to the liquor. “I’m glad I could help.”

At the sight of her obvious discomfort, the disaster of their earlier conversation rolled right back to the forefront of his mind. 

Maybe that was exactly what had happened to her too, and that was why she had become uneasy all over again.

He needed to fix this.

“Listen, Ry— Amelia. I really am sorry for—”

She waved her hand at him, cutting him off. “Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have pushed you with my controversial opinions — I know you have valid reasons to hate Sloane, since you’ve actually lived here all this time, unlike me. And I know you care about Kadara. So… even if I am wary of the Charlatan, I do trust you.”

At that, she finally met his gaze, and the look in her eyes was so sincere and earnest that he almost couldn’t take it.

I have to tell her, he thought.

I must tell her right now.

He opened his mouth, but the words refused to come out. 

“Okay, I should go now, or I will undo all of my hard work!” she laughed stiffly and started backing away to the door. “We can fight about it more later. If you want.”

She turned to press her hand to the lock, threw a tight-lipped smile at him over her shoulder.

And then she was gone.

Reyes stared at the place where she stood just a moment ago, an odd mixture of longing, hope, and foreboding filling his chest.

He knew a lot of things.

But he didn’t know what to do about that.

Chapter Text

“I’m fine, SAM.”

Helped along by the wind, the words carried outward and shattered against the pale rock face, coming back to her in a weak, broken echo.

The first time she’d been here, she hadn’t noticed the peculiar acoustics of the place — probably because the steady hum of an idling shuttle had been too loud for her to be able to pick up on more subtle sounds. 

“My analysis suggests otherwise, Amelia. You are currently exhibiting several symptoms of high stress levels,” the AI contradicted mildly, a note of genuine concern seeping into his synthesized speech. “It is advisable to seek professional assistance. May I once again offer to establish a comm link with Doctor T’Perro?”

Ryder let out a tired exhale.

“Thank you, but nothing has changed since the last time you asked.”

She respected Lexi, and she trusted her professional skills and experience, but talking to the Tempest’s physician about this was out of the question. Though she probably should think of a plausible excuse to get herself some heavy-duty sleeping pills. Preferably the kind that would knock her out cold for a couple of hours, so that she wouldn’t have to deal with the nightmares that plagued her whenever she tried to rest.  

“Would you perhaps be more comfortable discussing the matter with Miss B'Sayle, or Lieutenant Harper?” the AI persisted.

Not really, and a hard no.

Peebee would never turn her down. She knew that. But she also knew that kind of conversation would have been extremely awkward for her best friend. The last thing she wanted was to make her feel ill at ease. Besides, she’d already agreed to get Amelia here, to the middle of nowhere, no questions asked. That was more than enough.

As for Cora, or any other member of her team… Even if they were her friends too, she was supposed to be their commanding officer. She couldn’t even imagine broaching the topic with them.  

There weren't really any options. She had to deal with this on her own.

She shook her head in reply, a wan smile barely lifting a corner of her mouth. “You’ve become kind of stubborn, SAM, you know that?”

That had made her like the AI’s budding personality even more, but now wasn’t the best time to tell him about it.

“According to your father — and yourself — stubborn runs in the family.”

The calming chill of the mountain air crystallized in her lungs. Far down in the distance, the technicolor lights of the port shifted and blurred, melting into a shapeless glowing blot.

It took Ryder a long moment to find her voice. 

“Guess it rubbed off on you too…”

She tried to sound casual. She really did. But SAM’s extended silence spoke very loudly of her failure.

“Am I correct to conclude that you do not wish for me to contact anyone on the Tempest?” he asked at last.

Her throat was burning as if she swallowed a fistful of Elaaden’s scorching sand. Unable to squeeze the words through, she answered him with a nod.  

Another lengthy pause followed.

“Understood, Pathfinder,” came his subdued reply.

And now she’d gone and done it. She’d upset her AI. As if she needed another reason to despise herself… ` 

“I promise, SAM,” she managed to croak out after several deep breaths, “I’m okay.”

Or she would be.

As soon as she remembered that she wasn’t just a girl who’d lost both her parents and whose brother, after forty-three days, was still in a coma.

As soon as she reminded herself that now she was the one with all the responsibility. The one who had to ensure the safety and wellbeing of not just her team, but the settlers at the outposts, those back on the Hyperion and the Nexus, and the exiles too, even if Tann and the others had already written them off. The whole Initiative depended on the Pathfinder — on her — to find a way out of this mess, and she’d completely lost her bearings.

It became painfully clear after the mission on the Archon’s ship. With every debrief, every report she’d written, something inside of her seemed to twist further and further out of shape, bending and warping, until she wanted to claw out of her own skin. Back on the Nexus, she barely avoided a nasty and completely pointless squabble with Tann. Almost snapped at Addison for some of her run-of-the-mill condescending remarks. At some point between meetings, she locked herself in a bathroom, where, after splashing her face with cold water until it went completely numb, she had stared at her pale reflection for ten minutes before she finally made herself come back out.

It couldn’t go on like this.

She had to get a grip. And to do that, she needed some time alone, away from everything and everyone, at a quiet, secluded place where maybe, just maybe, she’d feel normal again.

There were several spots she could think of that fit the description. She could go to Voeld, to Eos, or maybe Havarl.

But for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she found herself on Kadara.  

About a week ago she’d been standing in the same spot, watching a truly spectacular sunset, but it felt like it had been in another lifetime. On second thought, she had died after that — again — so maybe the sentiment wasn’t too far from the truth.

Anguish and regret hit her like a violent gust of wind. With a trembling breath, she pressed her forehead to her knees and screwed her eyes shut.

She wouldn’t. She couldn’t think about that. Because her second death made her remember with cruel, unbearable clarity the way it had happened the first time.

The fall. The swell of panic when she heard her helmet’s visor crack open. The distant light approaching her through the fog. Her father stumbling to a halt before her. The determination in his eyes when he made the decision. The look on his face when he replaced her ruined helmet with his own. His gentle smile — the same smile he’d given her when she’d written that silly poem at five, and at eight when she’d learned how to ride a bike. When she’d won first place at a science fair at twelve. When she’d enlisted at eighteen and had received an offer to work with the Prothean researchers at twenty. He smiled at her as if he was proud of her, and she…

A strangled sob escaped her and she clamped her palms over her ears, loathing herself for her weakness. 

“Pathfinder?”

Curled around the screaming silence of her pain, completely detached from the world, Amelia didn’t react to the AI addressing her.

“Ryder? Please, don’t be alarmed.”

SAM’s voice was right there in her head, but she was lost too deep in her own mind for the meaning to sink in.

And then she felt something brush against her shoulder.

Her reflexes immediately kicked in, sending her body into motion. Before she even realized what was happening, Ryder had already rolled away and staggered up to her feet, a shockwave ready to burst from her tense grip. Her eyes locked on the tall figure of a man standing a couple of paces away from her, hands raised in a placating gesture. There was no weapon in them — only some kind of flat rectangular box. It was dark, but the angry shimmer of her biotics provided enough illumination for her to discern a standard-issue Initiative flight suit, meticulously slicked-back dark hair, and an unreadable look on the now-familiar face.

“Reyes?” she breathed, immediately hating the brittle sharpness of her voice.

The smuggler watched her for a moment, silent and attentive, as if she was a complicated readout he was trying to decipher. His gaze slid over her defensive posture and back up. Then he slowly lowered his hands.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, his brows knitting in a frown as he took in her expression. “Is everything all right?”

Belatedly she realized that her eyes were stinging, and her cheeks felt damp.

Amelia hastily closed her hand into a fist, snuffing out the biotic charge still clinging to her palm, and whirled away from him. The mere idea of being caught in such a state had been dreadful. The reality of Reyes — so effortlessly self-assured, so always in control — being the one to witness her breakdown was worse.

“I’m fine,” she bit out, furiously rubbing at her face with the soft sleeve of her hoodie. 

God, how pathetic she must look to him. 

The tall grass behind Amelia rustled as he drew nearer.     

“Your definition of ‘fine’ needs some work,” he remarked, the words just as measured as his slow approach toward her.

The impulse to shy away grew stronger with every step he took, but the embarrassment kept her frozen in place, unable to move.

Don’t come any closer, she willed him silently.    

She didn’t want him to look past her walls. Didn’t want him to know. 

“What are you doing here anyway?” she demanded shakily, staring down at her crossed arms.

“Just thought I could use a breath of fresh air.”

She scowled at the vast expanse of darkness separating the mountain from Kadara Port, utterly unconvinced. Why bother to fly all the way out here if he could have just gone up to the docks? Unless...

“Did SAM ask you to come?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the smuggler make another careful step toward her.

“Not a believer in happy coincidences, are you?” 

“Reyes,” she warned. 

“All right. Yes,” he admitted after a short pause. “Though, technically, he didn’t ask me to do anything. It was my decision to go find you.”       

Her jaw clenched. Why didn’t the AI listen to her? She told him not to call anyone.

Forcibly relaxing the tense muscles of her shoulders, Amelia feigned a careless shrug. 

“SAM had clearly overreacted. I’m sorry you had to travel all the way up here for no reason. He and I will find a way to make it up to you,” she managed to sound calm at first, but the words were starting to buckle, slipping from her control syllable by faltering syllable. Ryder swallowed and made herself turn slightly in his direction. “Now excuse me, but I have to go.”

It would have been wiser to stay put. To contact Peebee and wait until she returned to get her. But there was no way she could spend another moment anywhere near Reyes. She hadn’t known him for long, but she understood enough about him not to expect him to just give up after he’d come all this way. If she stayed, he would make her talk. 

She couldn’t let him do it.

She headed toward the precipice, but, of course, it had been too much to hope that he wouldn’t follow.

“And where exactly are you planning to go? We’re on top of a mountain.”

“I can climb down.”

It would be difficult, marginally risky, and, above all else, a very stupid thing to do, but she had to get away.

Single-mindedly focused on her escape, Amelia failed to notice the movement on her right as Reyes stepped in front of her. Trying to swerve around him, she staggered and almost lost her footing, but in a quick, deft motion he caught her by the shoulders and brought her upright again.

Ryder bit her lip in frustration and tried to jerk free from his grasp, but he kept her in place with insulting ease.

“Sure you can. I have a better idea, though. Why don’t you just tell me why you are so upset?” 

There was a soothing quality to his voice now, as if he were speaking to an anxious child.

It made her want to scream.      

“I’m fine!” she snapped, glaring at the fastener of his jacket. 

“Clearly.”

She made another half-hearted attempt to free herself, knowing that it wouldn’t work but still unwilling to accept it. 

Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? 

“You don’t understand...” 

She hung her head, trying to hide behind the fall of her hair, but it didn’t help. The sheer force of his presence was like gravity pulling at the stormy ocean of sorrow and guilt, coaxing it into a rising tide that her feeble defenses couldn’t hope to hold back. 

“Explain it to me, then.”

He was too close. This was too much.

The waves pulled her under.

“I killed my father !” she uttered in a broken whisper. Every word felt like a knife being ripped from her chest, and the unbearable truth came bleeding out. “He died because of me, and now even more people are going to lose their lives because I am nothing but a fraud !”

It hurt to say it — to finally admit it to someone — but she couldn’t stop.

“Dad would have known what to do. He would have found a way to save all those captured angara, and he would have rescued Raeka without sacrificing Drack’s scouts.”

“Amelia—” Reyes interrupted gently, squeezing her shoulders. He pulled back a little, trying to meet her eyes, but she wouldn’t let him and just kept talking.      

“I failed them. And I’m so scared that I’ll fail everyone else…He should have just let me die !”

The night trembled with the echo of her regret. Or maybe it was her who was shivering. She wasn’t sure.

Now that she’d let the dam break, the inescapable, ever-growing pressure in her chest eased away. 

But it didn’t make her feel any better.     

Reyes’ fingers lifted from her shoulders, and she moved to draw away, giving him space that he predictably needed after having to listen to her dismal confessions. But faster than she could do that, his hands pressed against her waist and back instead, firmly pulling her toward him.

Her breath caught.

For a while, Amelia just stood there, enveloped in the unexpected warmth of his embrace, completely motionless, uncomprehending. Surely, after he’d seen just what her well-rehearsed confidence was concealing, he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her. She fully expected him to leave. Why was he still here? Why was he trying to comfort her when she didn’t deserve it?

Ryder meant to step away. She truly did.

But instead, her arms lifted and wrapped around his waist.  

Amelia buried her face in the crook of Reyes’ neck and felt his chest rise and fall as he let out a long exhale, resting his cheek on the top of her head. An overpowering need to apologize washed over her, but she seemed to have lost the ability to speak. All she could do was to keep crying silent tears into the stiff fabric of his jacket.

For a while, neither of them moved or said anything. Ever so slowly, her erratic heartbeat began to even out, and she found herself unconsciously following the steady pattern of his breathing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

The thoughts swirling in her head dissolved like ink in water. She let her mind go completely blank and focused on the cold of the night air as it filled her lungs. On the whisper of grass swaying in the wind. On the unwavering rhythm of Reyes’ pulse.

For a moment, the world seemed so … uncomplicated.     

“I know you won’t believe me when I say it,” Reyes murmured into her hair, his deep voice rumbling through her, “but it wasn’t your fault. From what I heard, it had been brutal down there on Habitat 7. The Nexus fully expected none of you to return.”

Amelia sighed quietly. 

Kind of funny really, how easy it was for her to listen to others, yet at the same time so very hard to confide in someone herself. But Reyes was there for her, even if she didn’t ask him to be, and while her meltdown had been absolutely mortifying, somehow it hadn’t scared him off. 

Another strange thing was that despite the fact that there was literally no distance between them now, she felt much less inhibited than she’d been before. It could be because this way she didn’t have to look him in the eye. Or it could have something to do with the unexpected, inexplicable feeling of safety that came with the embrace. It had been so long since she felt this way that she’d almost forgotten what it was like.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk. 

One thing she was certain about, though, was that she didn’t want him to let go of her yet. 

Well … then her choice was obvious.

“And none of us would have returned, if not for my father,” she told him.

And it was the truth. Without her dad, they’d never have managed to fight their way through so many kett. They’d never have thought of shutting down that tower at all. Not before it would have been too late. 

“How about those two people you saved?” the smuggler asked, not for the first time surprising her with how well-informed he was. She wondered briefly how exactly he knew that, but the spark of curiosity was extinguished by a new surge of remorse.   

“It doesn’t make me any less guilty, Reyes.”

She was glad that she’d been able to protect Fisher and Greer, of course she was, but she still lost two others. 

“Yet it does prove that you did the best you could.”

She scoffed.

“What I’m saying is,” he pressed on, undeterred by her reaction, “you couldn’t have changed anything, because the choice wasn’t yours to make. It was your father’s. And he would have always chosen to save you.”

The words sank in, one after the other, sending ripples through her hard-won composure, and Ryder squeezed her eyes shut. 

She wouldn’t cry again. She wouldn’t. 

But a couple of tears still managed to escape, leaving thin trails of warmth that all too soon turned cold.

It wasn’t fair. 

Wasn’t fair that she’d lost first her mom, and now her dad too. Wasn’t fair that she could do absolutely nothing to stop it, no matter how much she’d wanted to.

She hated how helpless she’d been then. 

But there were so many others in Andromeda who’d lost just as much as she had, or even more. And this time, it was in her power to make sure no one else would lose the people they loved. This time, with SAM, she could actually make a difference.

And she would keep Scott safe, even if it would be the last thing she’d ever do.

As soon as those thoughts took shape in her mind, they solidified into a resolve, a promise to herself, and something inside her clicked back into place.   

Gradually, the world around her shifted into focus, but along with the renewed clarity came a creeping realization. 

She had spent the last minutes — plural — clinging to Reyes Vidal like he was the only steady thing in the galaxy. She still had her arms wrapped around him, so tight that she could feel every fastener and buckle at the front of his suit.   

And she would have panicked at her complete loss of control, but the confusing thing was that Reyes seemed to return the hug with equal strength. It could have been empathy, but something told her that there was more to it. Had he lost someone too?          

“There’s something else I want to tell you, and you are definitely going to hate it,” he said, interrupting her train of thought. 

Without letting go of her, he drew back just a bit, clearly expectant. Ryder swallowed thickly, realizing he wanted her to look at him. 

She didn’t even want to begin to imagine what she must look like after all this crying on top of a week’s worth of barely getting a wink of sleep. At least it was dark out. Absurdly glad that Kadara had no moons to provide additional illumination, she reluctantly lifted her head.  

His expression was serious, but she thought she noticed a shadow of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He held her gaze for a moment and then said in a low, deliberate tone, “You are wrong.”

Before she could catch herself, her eyebrows dipped down in a skeptical frown, and Reyes flashed her a wide, amused grin.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah. Very funny. And what exactly am I wrong about?”   

The playful sparks danced in his eyes for a moment longer, and then his face softened.

“You are not a fraud.”

The conviction in his voice left no room for argument, and that intent, unwavering way he looked at her... 

It made her heart stutter.   

“If all the lives you have saved and all the impossible crises you have dealt with don’t convince you,” he continued, “let me put it this way: you are the one who has given people hope. Not just the Initiative, but the angara as well. And if that doesn’t prove your worth as a Pathfinder, I don’t know what does.”

Amelia didn’t know what she had expected him to say. Maybe default to his easy humor or throw her another one of his witty, charming remarks. But this? 

It felt like a tiny, brilliant sun bloomed into existence somewhere in her ribcage, warming her from within. 

She blinked up at him, completely dazed. 

“I … don’t know what to say,” Ryder admitted at last when the silence stretched too thin for comfort.

Reyes threw her another one of his crooked smiles.

“Relax. I’m aware of how bad you are at accepting compliments. I didn’t expect you to reply. However,” he looked around as if he was searching for something on the ground, “as confident as I am in my communication skills, I did bring something as a backup plan to cheer you up… Aha, there it is!”

At that, he finally — regretfully — released her and bent down to pick something up from the grass. When he straightened, there was that same flat rectangular box from before in his hand. He must have dropped it when he had caught her from falling earlier, she realized with a fresh pang of embarrassment. Then again, if she’d been able to walk properly, she’d have successfully escaped from him.

For the first time in her life, Amelia found herself thankful for her occasional clumsiness.

Reyes held the mysterious box up before her, looking vaguely smug, and she noticed that there was a short inscription in the corner. She squinted at the text and arched an eyebrow at him.

“And how exactly is a set of precision screwdrivers supposed to do that?”

His grin widened.

“A necessary subterfuge for safe transportation. I have it on good authority that people could kill for what’s inside.”

Ryder folded her arms and leaned back on one hip.

“I’d try to guess, but on this planet that doesn’t really narrow it down much,” she pointed out dryly.

Reyes chuckled and shrugged, “On the other hand, we do have the prettiest views here on Kadara.”

“Oh, sure, they are to die for.”

He snorted a laugh and flipped the box over in his hands. It opened with a soft click, revealing a smaller flat rectangle with an instantly recognizable brand name on the package.

Amelia’s eyes went round and she immediately stepped closer, tentative fingers brushing over the elegant gold lettering. 

“Is that…” she started and trailed off, closing her eyes to inhale deeply.

The velvety, rich, delicious aroma that filled the air was impossible not to recognize.

Chocolate. 

“How did you even get it?” she asked, staring up at Reyes in amazement. According to the records that she would never admit to using Pathfinder authority to check, all of their meager supplies had been long gone. 

“I am somewhat competent at what I do,” he replied wryly and nodded at the parasol-like plant growing nearby. “How about we sit down and see if it still tastes as good as it smells?”  

Instead of answering, she made a beeline for the thick stem and plopped down on the ground with her back to it, then patted the grass beside her in invitation.

He laughed and followed her example. “I take it you aren’t opposed to the idea?”

“Stop talking and just unwrap it already,” she urged, bumping her shoulder into his when he settled down next to her.

“Impatient, are we?” the smuggler teased, tugging at the fingers of his gloves. Thankfully, as soon as they were off, he made quick work of the paper and foil, broke the bar into sections, and offered it to her.

She took one brown square and immediately popped it into her mouth. The flavor exploded on her tongue, sweet, creamy, heavenly, and she closed her eyes, humming in delight.

“How did you know to get milk chocolate, not dark?” she asked after a long, blissful moment.

He snorted.

“Please. This was clearly not the time to choose healthy over tasty.” 

Amelia shook her head in wonder.

“Why did I ever argue with you? You are the wisest man I have ever met.”

“And the most handsome one, right?” he added with a wink, picking up a piece for himself.

She threw him a deadpan look.

“Even if you were, I don’t think I should inflate your ego any further, or you might burst.”

“How very thoughtful of you.” 

They continued to enjoy their chocolate in companionable silence for a while, watching the fireflies of shuttles dance around the inviting glow of Kadara Port, and not for the first time that night it struck her how easy it was to be with Reyes. Whatever they did — talked, ribbed one another, or just sat quietly like this, immersed in their own thoughts — it all seemed so natural, familiar despite the fact that they’d met only a couple of weeks before. 

And yet, she had to be careful, because it was just as easy to get carried away, to give in to that strange, ever-present pull she felt toward him. 

She’d already slipped once, on the day when she went to talk to him at Tartarus and ended up treating his headache. When she made the offer, she didn’t think twice about it because she’d do the same thing for any of her friends. It didn’t seem like a big deal. Besides, the concentration required for the procedure left no room for any idle thoughts. But then she was finished, and when she opened her eyes... Reyes was looking right at her. His pupils were blown wide, leaving only a thin ring of fiery gold around them, like a full solar eclipse, and for a split second, she wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and let herself get lost in that moment, get lost in him.

But that was just a momentary lapse of reason. A blip. Nothing more. Her common sense still prevailed, and the next time something like that happened, she’d shake it off too.

She had it all under control.   

“So… did my plan work?” Reyes asked, pulling her away from her reflections.

“It did,” she confirmed with a small smile. “You didn’t even need to resort to the backup.”

“Is that so? Well,” he seemed to consider it for a second and then reached for the box sitting in her lap, “then I guess I’ll take that chocolate back.”

She grabbed it and held it away from him. “Hey! What happened to you being a model gentleman?”

“I did tell you I was lying about that.”

In the end, they finished off the whole bar together, laughing and talking.

Yet little by little, the exhaustion started to settle in. Amelia thought she was doing a decent job fighting it off, while, completely without her notice, she continued to drift closer and closer to Reyes.

The last half-conscious thought she had was how nice and soft the padded shoulder of his suit was.

And then sleep finally claimed her.     

Chapter Text

It wasn’t easy to surprise a man like Reyes.

Yet, when his omnitool buzzed with an incoming call alert earlier that night — from an unknown source, no less — it gave him pause. 

For one, the tracing program he had installed had never failed before. Not once . For another thing, with the exception of Keema, who he had just talked to, the select few entrusted with his personal frequency only used it for sending text messages and did it extremely rarely at that.

He had considered the option of simply ignoring the call, but, in the end, decided against it. The situation was too peculiar to leave it be. Besides, if it was a security risk, the earlier he became aware of it, the quicker it would be dealt with.

As he cast another careful glance at the Pathfinder, out like a light, her head resting on his shoulder, Reyes once again found himself glad for the choice he had made.

Though at the same time he had to admit that seeing Ryder — always so vibrant and driven — in the state he had found her in had been ... difficult. SAM had described the situation in broad strokes prior to his arrival, sure, but the AI’s explanation hadn’t prepared him for just how unsettling it would actually be. It was like something had sucked all the light out of her, revealing the cracks in her shining armor that he hadn’t noticed before. And there, beneath all her protective layers, he saw something he was very closely acquainted with.

Guilt and pain.

For a moment it was as if he’d been thrown back in time to stare at a mirror image of himself, his own suppressed emotions shifting closer to the surface, like jagged rocks emerging from the retreating sea. He pushed them down. It wasn’t about him and his fatal mistakes. It was about Ryder. And whatever it was that made her feel this way, she didn’t deserve to be hurting like that.

Not her.

Reyes let out a long breath and looked up at the satiny black sky.

It had been a relief to see the Pathfinder return to her usual self. And now that the crisis was well and truly over, he found his whirring mind winding down along with the calm rhythm of her breathing.

It didn’t happen to him often.  

There always seemed to be a thousand things for him to consider, and just as many things to do. He analyzed and strategized. Calculated risks and weighed potential outcomes. Solved problems and then created them somewhere else. And above all, he got the job done. With clockwork precision. Clinical cool. Always . It was a never-ending cycle, an inescapable circle of his own making, and for the longest time, it had been the only way for him to function at all. Then it became a habit he didn’t really see a reason to break.

So he kept moving. Kept thinking. Kept doing what he was good at.

But up here on this mountaintop, with Ryder beside him, it was like there was nothing and no one else in the world. As if the two of them were just tiny figurines encased in a snow globe filled with glittering stars.

And Reyes just wanted to stop. To stay still, just for a moment, and simply be .    

It felt good. He felt good.

All because of the girl sleeping on his shoulder. 

Ryder shifted slightly and he froze, afraid that he’d somehow disturbed her. He even held his breath, to be on the safe side, but she just snuggled closer and wrapped both her arms around his with a happy little sigh.

He couldn’t hold back a smile.

Who knew that underneath all the dry humor and strict professionalism there was someone so endearing?

When they first met, he couldn’t quite get a read on her. Ryder appeared to be made up of glaring contradictions, and in the beginning, he’d been trying to pinpoint which of these versions of her was a front, and which was the real thing. But it turned out to be more complicated than that. She was like a swift-flowing river — ever changing, ever the same. Sometimes assertive and uncompromising. Other times quiet and shy. But never dishonorable. Never selfish. Never not kind to a fault.

And while he’d been so intent on getting into her head, she’d snuck into his without him ever noticing.

Time and again, his thoughts kept drifting back to her with the surety of a comet caught in the orbit of a star. When he woke up and opened his inbox, he didn’t sort his emails starting from the bottom of the list like he used to. Now he checked if there was a message from her and read it first. When he came across something unusual or funny he made a mental note to write to her about it. Every time the doors to his room at Tartarus slid open, he caught himself hoping that it would be her walking in. Worst of all, it happened even when he knew for a fact that the Tempest was in another system. As for the reasons why he checked the ship’s exact location almost every day… he preferred not to examine them too closely.

A gust of crisp, grass-scented wind rushed over the mountain, tugging at his hair and clothes with invisible cold fingers. 

He looked over at Ryder. 

She seemed comfortable enough, but the temperature was dropping, and her thin hoodie didn’t exactly look warm. Besides, even if he was more than ready to stay still until morning, it wouldn’t be the proper rest the Pathfinder required.

“SAM?” he called, keeping his voice low, just in case she wasn’t fully under yet. 

The AI’s reply was immediate. 

“The Pathfinder is currently in delta sleep stage, Mr. Vidal. She can now be transported to the Tempest, as per our earlier agreement.”

Reyes winced slightly. After being wrapped up in the thick blanket of nighttime quiet for so long, the regular volume at which SAM spoke seemed uncomfortably high. However, during the call, the AI had explained to him that he’d be able to neutralize any outside stimuli that might wake Ryder for as long as it would take to fly her back to her ship. Including the sound of their voices.     

He had to admit that the thought of an artificial intelligence having so much influence over its human partner didn’t sit entirely well with him. Even if he was well aware of the fact that the Pathfinder team implants were much more advanced than your average biotic ones and provided an unprecedented level of connection to the host, looking at Ryder, he couldn’t help but wonder just how deep that connection went in her case. What else apart from controlling her sleep was the AI capable of doing? 

Still... She seemed to trust SAM implicitly, and judging by the way the AI looked out for her, that trust was not misplaced.

“How is she?” he found himself asking. She seemed to be okay now, but somehow his own judgment wasn’t enough to get rid of the sticky unease still lurking somewhere at the edge of his mind.     

“I am pleased to report that the Pathfinder’s condition has significantly improved. After eight to ten hours of sleep, Ryder will be — to use a common phrase — ‘good as new’.”      

The relief in the AI’s tone was such a perfect match to his own that if he hadn’t known who he was talking to, he’d never have suspected the voice didn’t belong to a human.

Well, that confirmation would certainly do.

Reyes breathed in a lungful of the fresh mountain air and exhaled, the last of the lingering tension dissipating like morning fog.   

“Then we better proceed to the transporting part.”

“Agreed.”

He briefly considered putting his discarded gloves back on but opted for tucking them under his belt instead.

Then, turning to Ryder, he hooked one arm under her knees, placed the other across her back, and gingerly lifted her up. She hummed in protest, a small displeased crease appearing between her dark eyebrows, and he gathered her closer so that her head would be resting on the soft lapel of his jacket. Her expression immediately relaxed, melting into the utter contentment of a child napping after a day spent trying out every single ride at a Blasto Theme Park. He chuckled soundlessly and headed toward his shuttle.

Just as SAM had promised, neither the whirr of the starting up rotors nor the low buzz of the engine disturbed his slumbering passenger. Their flight back to Kadara Port was smooth and quick. Unwilling to risk an encounter with any of the city’s overly enterprising populace — since he doubted the AI could block out a firefight — Reyes decided to violate the rules and land right next to the Tempest. If it came to it, he’d deal with Dalton or whichever docking manager was on duty later. 

At SAM’s prompting, the boarding ramp of the Tempest yawned open before him, revealing the dimly lit cargo bay. That deep into the night cycle it was most likely deserted. But he imagined Ryder wouldn’t be thrilled by the gossip his carrying her in bridal style well after midnight would surely spark, so he focused on watching his step and making as little noise as possible as he ascended.

Though as soon as Reyes rounded the wide body of the Nomad and glanced up, it became clear that he shouldn’t have bothered to be subtle.

Ten pairs of eyes drilled into him. Curious. Suspicious. Relieved. The entire crew was there, clearly expecting their arrival.

Someone gave a suggestive whistle.

Then again, he probably should have seen it coming. When it came to her team, Ryder radiated affection with the force of a small sun, and often spoke of them as if they were her family. Now he certainly saw just how true her words had been. What he was facing here certainly felt like a family — a large, close-knit, slightly overbearing one.

“You didn’t tell me we should expect a welcoming committee, SAM,” he murmured quietly.

“Apologies, Mr. Vidal. Should I have considered that information relevant?”

“Ask Ryder when she wakes up.”

His quiet exchange with the AI seemed to have broken the dam, and a stream of hushed questions and comments flooded in.

“Where has she been?” Cora Harper demanded, folding her arms. She was clearly going for ‘frustrated’ , but he could see that the lieutenant was worried more than anything else.

“Is Ryder okay?” a soft-spoken red-haired girl in pink pajamas wanted to know. He hadn’t seen her in person before, but he remembered her face from the files. Along with some more specific details he’d gotten from other sources. 

Suvi Anwar. Science officer. Degrees in astrophysics and molecular biology. Religious, slightly absent-minded, partial to Earth tea, his memory supplied.

“Having an exciting night, are we?” drawled a carefully disheveled man, saluting him with a steaming white mug stained with something that looked like machine oil.

Gil Brodie. Chief engineer. Good at tech and poker, bad at trust.

“Now I see what you mean - they do look cute together,” murmured a dual-toned voice that could only belong to Vetra Nyx.

“I know, right?” chirped Peebee in her trademark singsong manner.

The rest of the crew remained silent, though, in case of Liam Kosta, a look was worth a thousand words. The man seemed to have upgraded from the usual ‘ police officer staring down a suspect ’ glower he regarded Reyes with to a full-blown ‘ detective watching a dangerous perpetrator walk free ’ glare that became even more intense when Ryder shifted in his arms and wrapped her fingers around his collar.

Well, well... Someone is jealous.  

A petty part of him wanted to wink at the crisis specialist and see how he would respond to that . However, Ryder certainly wouldn’t approve, so he decided to behave. For now.

He slapped on his most winning smile and swept his gaze over the crowded room.    

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I can see you have a lot of questions, so I’ll make it quick. The Pathfinder has simply stepped out to enjoy some fresh night air. Then she ran into me, and it looks like I successfully bored her to sleep. Ryder is perfectly okay, but I imagine she would be far more comfortable in her quarters, so if someone kindly showed me the way, it would be much appreciated.”

The ship’s denizens exchanged questioning glances and predictably focused on Harper.

The XO looked him over once again and sighed, pointing at the door behind her back with a thumb.

“Straight down the corridor. You won’t miss it,” she told him, then turned to the crew. “All right, people, return to your bunks, we have work to do tomorrow.”

The biotic waited for a moment to make sure her instructions were carried out, then turned on her heels and disappeared down the door on her right. Peebee lingered at the top of the ladder to throw him a lopsided grin and skipped away in the direction of the bridge. Kosta stopped on his way out, clearly intending to say something. Sadly, before he could do that, he got towed away by a smirking Brodie. 

In less than half a minute, the hangar bay was empty. 

“You’re in for a very interesting morning,” he concluded, looking down at Ryder.

Harper was right — it would have been very difficult not to notice a large door with the words ‘ Pathfinder’s Quarters ’ written over it in bold capital letters.     

The lock cycled open when Reyes drew near, and he stepped inside.

The room was much larger than he expected — indeed a far cry from the spartan military standards. The first thing he noticed were the windows that took up the entire far wall of it, providing a spectacular view of the endless sky stretching over the badlands. The stars above and the tiny lights of the settlements below were shining so brightly that it seemed like the ship was actually in orbit. With that kind of backdrop, an actual, normal bed — double, no less, and clearly made in a hurry — looked even more extravagant. On the opposite side, there was a lounge zone sporting a coffee table littered with datapads, several cups and what looked like rem-tech parts, and a couch. Thrown over the back was her grey initiative v-neck. In the corner, he saw an office area with two desks, SAM’s holo, and a terminal, lined with plexiglass shelves housing an incomplete collection of model ships and several books. Real , paper ones, with paper bookmarks sticking out of them. Unlike the rest of the room, the desks were organized within an inch of their lives, which said a lot about the Pathfinder’s priorities. A gentle piano tune was flowing from the wall speakers, accompanied by the soft snoring of a fat hamster-like critter residing in a glass tank at the edge of the desk. He also counted at least seven flower pots around. If he wasn’t mistaken, the bright lavender and vermilion plants were native to Elaaden. The one on the bedside table had a string of delicate white Christmas lights wrapped around it and likely served as a night lamp.

Even if there weren’t many personal possessions here, somehow, the cabin looked undeniably hers . It was warm. Cozy. A little quirky. Just like the person living in it.

And it smelled like her, he realized. Jasmine with a fresh citrus undertone that made him think of a garden at dawn.   

Shaking off the latter discovery, he carried his precious cargo to its place of consignment.

Having carefully deposited the Pathfinder on top of the covers, he set to work on what was — in his opinion — a completely unreasonable number of fasteners on her boots. After almost a full minute, he finally slipped them off and put them down by her closet, next to a pair of black canvas shoes she’d been wearing the last time he saw her.

Then Reyes crossed back to the bed and pulled the free side of the blanket over Ryder’s sleeping form, tucking it in for good measure. Satisfied with the result, he looked the girl over once again, contemplating if there was anything else he could do for her before he left. Nothing came to mind. Except that … Her usually neat hair was in disarray, and several dark caramel strands had fallen into her eyes. It didn’t seem like it bothered her, but for some reason, he just couldn’t help himself. Hesitantly, he reached over and brushed them back from her face, his fingertips ghosting over the smooth, porcelain pale skin. As his eyes followed the movement of his hands, taking in her delicate features with the unwavering attention of a cartographer exploring a mysterious uncharted land, not for the first time when he was with her, he felt a subtle tug; a nameless, weightless something expanding in his chest, and he…

“Mr. Vidal?” the AI’s voice called from where his holo hovered above one of the desks.

Reyes blinked and lowered his hand, feeling as if he’d been caught stealing. 

He cleared his throat. “Yes, SAM?”

“I want to thank you for your assistance. It was a difficult situation, and your help has proven to be invaluable.”

His rigid posture relaxed. 

He fully expected the inquisitive AI to make an inquiry about his unusual behavior, and it was a relief that he either overlooked it or kept his questions to himself. If SAM had asked, he didn’t know what he would have answered. 

Because he had no idea what the hell he’d been doing.      

“I was glad to help. That’s what friends are for, after all.”

And they were exactly that. Friends. There was no reason for the word to get stuck on its way out like it just had. 

Just like there was no reason for his fingertips to still be tingling after the barest hint of a touch.

“I… should probably go,” he murmured, feeling increasingly unbalanced, and turned toward the door. 

“Shall I alert you when the Pathfinder wakes up?”

Yes.

No. 

“I’ve already invaded her privacy enough for one day, don’t you think?” he answered levelly, refusing to give in to the completely irrational impulse to make sure that Ryder was okay. She was at the port, on her own ship. She was going to be fine .

“Ryder does not view your presence as intrusive,” the AI countered. “In fact, being away from you for prolonged periods of time makes her upset.”

At that, Reyes halted. That light, airy feeling swept through him again, and if he didn’t know that the ship was planetside, he would certainly suspect some kind of artificial gravity failure.

Did Ryder … miss him?

It would have been easy to give SAM a push in the right direction so that he would tell him more. He’d obtained a great deal of intel that way, and he never passed up an opportunity to just let people — or socially clueless AIs — talk. This time, though… He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

He did want to know. 

But he wanted to hear it from her .   

“As glad as I am to know that she values my company, I’m not entirely sure Ryder would appreciate you disclosing such sensitive information to me.”

There was a contemplative pause, and then the AI replied, “Acknowledged. I shall apologize to the Pathfinder for my mistake.”

A corner of Reyes's mouth ticked up in amusement. He shook his head. That AI sure had a lot to learn. 

“Let’s just keep it to ourselves, SAM. Trust me on this.”

Another thoughtful silence followed.

“All right. Have a nice evening, Mr. Vidal.”

He nodded at the holo, then, after the last glance at Ryder — still sleeping, her calm face glowing softly in the shimmering light of her improvised lamp — stepped out into the corridor.

The door sighed shut behind him. 

Reyes took a deep breath.

Slowly let it out.

Raised his hand, and stared at his open palm.  

Even now, a shadow of her warmth still lingered on his fingertips.

He probably should have been concerned by that. Should have tried to snuff the feeling out then and there. 

It was nothing more than an unforeseen complication. A hindrance. A distraction.   

And yet...    

“How’s the Pathfinder?” rumbled a deep voice on his left, effectively shattering the quiet.

To his credit, Reyes didn’t even flinch at the unexpected interruption, though he gave himself a good mental kick for being so careless.   

As it turned out, the galley door that had been shut on his way in was now open, and inside, occupying nearly half the cramped space, sat Nakmor Drack. In front of him on the table, there was a large steaming cup, and the old krogan was methodically dunking a tea bag into it, his full attention focused on the task. A bitter, musty smell wafted out from the room.

If he hadn’t been exposed to Kadara’s finest blend of sulfur and exhaust fumes for so long, he’d probably want to take a step back.

A large one.     

“Sleeping. SAM says she will be alright,” he replied.

The krogan nodded.

“Good. Things have been rough for her, but Ryder is a true fighter.”

“That she is.”

They lapsed into silence. The conversation could very well end there, but something told him that Drack wasn’t done talking yet.

His hunch turned out to be right.  

“She’s a great kid,” the krogan continued after a long moment. “Has a damn lot on her plate though. And the last thing she needs is any more trouble.”

“And you are telling me this because...?”

“Because that’s exactly what I see when I look at you ,” at that, the predatory green eyes snapped up to bore into his. Without breaking his stare, the krogan lifted the tea bag, closed his meaty fist around it, and squeezed . When the last drop of liquid had bled from it, he tossed it aside.

“Trouble,” he finished gravely.

Reyes arched a brow at the krogan, still scowling at him.

That right there was a very... illustrative demonstration of his possible fate. And a rather original one. He was almost impressed. 

“Thank you for the compliment,” the green eyes narrowed dangerously, but he went on, undeterred. “I’m sure there’s more where that came from, but, unfortunately, I really must go now.”

He smirked sharply, lifted his hand in a mock salute, and sauntered off.

As he entered the cargo bay and headed toward the boarding ramp, there was not a trace of amusement left in his expression.

Because, ultimately, the old krogan was right.

Whatever he might be hoping for, whichever lies he would tell himself… 

For her, he’d be nothing but trouble.