Donnelly knelt in front of the bomb. He and Jacob he had managed to fit a decent-sized nuclear device into a large backpack, and the whole thing was only about twenty kilos in weight. Jacob handed him a final connector, and he promptly snapped it in place. "That's it," said Donnelly. "Ready for the party." He stood up. They stood in the Normandy's shuttle bay. The shuttle itself had been moved out into the center, in preparation for takeoff. Shepard stood off to one side as Zaeed fussed with the Commander's armor.

"I told you, Zaeed, the armor's fine," said Shepard. "Jacob checked it out."

"Don't tell me my business, kiddo. I saw the hit you took the last time you wore this. Jacob knows his stuff, but I'm gonna do a double-check all the same. If you die, there goes my goddamned paycheck."

Shepard stopped his fidgeting and let Zaeed do his fussing.

"I really wish you'd let me come, Shepard," continued Zaeed.

"No. Jack was insistent on this. Just me and her. She needs to do this. She almost didn't want me to come along, but somebody's got to carry the bomb and watch her back."

"And we're sure this is the planet?" asked Jacob.

"At this moment," said EDI, "I am ninety-nine point seven percent certain that Pragia is the correct location. Jack has said that the planet itself looks as she remembers while she was escaping in her shuttle. The planet is primarily jungle, and our scans have also found an area which contains a deserted facility of the same size and general shape as Jack described. Logging out."

"Okay," said Jacob. "And have we thought about what we're going to do if we find out this place was run by...you know."

Shepard's face stopped looking irritated and became stony. "What are we going to do, Jacob?" he asked. His voice was shaved ice. "I think you mean you. What are you going to do? I have made it quite clear to you, to Miranda, and to your employer-" and here he snarled the last word "-that I am only here as a matter of convenience. I am using your organization, because here and now I can make a use of it. If it becomes no longer useful, especially if it turns out you are all too fucking stupid to not be evil shitbags, then our arrangement is over. And then you can figure out where your loyalties lie. With the people who are being captured and probably tortured, or with a fucking logo."

Jacob straightened. "Understood, sir."

Shepard looked away. "It's a moot point, anyway," he said in a milder tone. "Hell, the place has been open to the elements for at least twelve years. I'm sure it's also been picked over pretty good. This isn't about finding out who did it, or getting revenge. Jack killed all the staff in the facility when she escaped. Her torturers, everyone who hurt her directly, they are all dead. This mission is just about closure."

"You boys get me my bomb?" yelled Jack from the far door. She strode in with her helmet tucked under one arm. Donnelly stared at her while trying to be not too obvious about it. Her armor reminded him of Samara's all-covering red outfit, but Jack's was colored a dark green. Jack had also painted some darker, abstract zigzag lines over the armor which reminded Donnelly of some of her tattoos.

Jack stopped in front of Donnelly. "Here, hold this," she said, and shoved her helmet into Donnelly's chest. He grabbed it on instinct, and Jack pulled a shotgun from her back. She unfolded the weapon and checked it over.

"You replaced the choke on that, right?" asked Zaeed.

"Yeah, dude, I replaced it. Don't go all softy on me, Zaeed. I swear, you're turning into some kinda den mother." She slung the weapon back into its holder, and looked up at Donnelly. "What are you staring at, Assface?" She was grinning while she said it, though.

"Well," Donnelly replied, "It is a new look for you. I've never actually seen you leave on a mission."

"What, so's you think I go waltzing into battle wearing nothin' but pants and a bra? I'm crazy, not fuckin' stupid. Gimme that." She yanked her helmet back from him. "So how's this bomb work?"

Jacob unzipped the top of the backpack, revealing a small control panel. "The arming control is here," he said. "There's a palm print reader that I've coded to you and to Shepard, no one else. Both of you will need to scan in your hands. After that, this light up here will turn green. Then you enter in the number code five-zero-two-nine-seven on the keypad here, after which this light will start flashing red. The weapon will then be armed." The armorer then pulled out a small cylinder and handed it to Jack. "That's the clacker. Flip the top open, press the button and hold for a three-count. Next time you press it, it'll act like a dead-man switch. When you release it again...boom." He motioned to the backpack.

Donnelly spoke next. "The transmit range on the clacker is at least fifty kilometers. This is an eight kiloton device, which should be plenty big enough to reduce that facility to wee bits. At about two klicks, you may still run the risk of flash burns on any exposed skin so I would recommend at least four klicks for minimum safe distance. Five if you can manage it. It's a clean nuke, but there is a very slight possibility you'll get some radioactive debris on ye. Once ye get back, ye'll have to wait a bit in the shuttle. Tali and I will check the outside and scrub off any residual fallout."

Shepard just nodded. He regarded the backpack nuke with a haunted look. Donnelly remembered that the Commander had been intimately involved with an earlier mission involving an improvised nuclear device. A mission which hadn't ended well.

Jack looked at the bomb and then at each of them in turn, her face now solemn. "Thanks, guys," she said. "I owe you all one." Jack's face then split into a grin as she grabbed Donnelly's shirt and yanked him down to her eye level. "And you," she said. "Have you been taking your supplements like a good boy?"

Donnelly nodded with a matching grin on his face.

"Good," she said, and gently bit the end of his nose. "Prepare thy pelvis, Assface." Then she released him and strolled off into the shuttle without looking back. Shepard nodded to them, slung the nuke onto his back, and followed Jack. Donnelly watched as the shuttle door slid closed and the craft lifted off with a whine of its thrusters. He was certain that Zaeed and Jacob were exchanging a look behind him. The shuttle glided smoothly out of the outer hanger door, which then just as smoothly swung closed.

There followed a very long moment, filled with the silence of three men trying their very hardest not to look at each other.

Jacob finally spoke. "Soooo...you and Jack?" he asked Donnelly.

"Looks like it," said Donnelly.

There was another long silence.

"Umm...okay, that's a good thing, I guess...?" Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. "Just make sure you're careful, you know."

Donnelly turned and looked back at Jacob. He arched one eyebrow. "I know very well what she's capable of, lad. I've got first hand experience, even."

Zaeed didn't speak. He just smiled and pulled out a cigar. He bit the end off, spit the resulting bit of tobacco off in some random direction, and pulled out a lighter.

"Yeah, I know it's just..." Jacob continued in the meantime, and then shrugged. "You know what they say, don't stick your dick in crazy."

Zaeed finished lighting his cigar and blew a perfect smoke ring. The mercenary looked absently at the closed hanger door. He was clearly thinking of other times and other women. "You know why they say that, Mr. Taylor?" he rasped. "It's 'coz once you've had a taste of crazy, nothin' else will do."

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The shuttle came back unscathed. That was about the only thing which had gone well. Donnelly and Tali scanned the exterior, and pronounced it clean. They opened the door, and Shepard came out with Jack leaning on him. The Commander had one arm around her shoulders. The young woman hadn't even looked at Donnelly or acknowledged his presence. She'd just stared in shock at the floor. Her helmet was off, and tears were streaked all over her face. Shepard had waved them off without speaking and the two returnees had left the hanger deck.

Presumably for Shepard's cabin, thought Donnelly. He was again surprised by a sudden flare of jealous anger. He now sat beside Samara in the observation lounge, trying to meditate. He kept trying to just focus on his breath, to reach a proper state of no-mind, but it kept sliding away from him. The image of Jack leaning on Shepard's shoulder kept rising up. Why wasn't he good enough for her to lean on?

"You are distracted, Marcus," said Samara. The glow in her eyes faded as Donnelly raised his head.

"Sorry, Samara. Just trying to expel some baggage."

"Pardon?"

"Um...unresolved emotional issues. Stuff you carry around in your head, like baggage."

"Ah, I see. Am I correct in assuming that this 'baggage' wears a very specific form? A female form?"

Donnelly gave a rueful nod.

Samara unfolded herself and stood with slow, inhuman grace. She stepped to the window and looked out on the void. She placed one hand on the viewport, as if to try to touch the darkness outside.

"She reminds me of someone," the justicar said. "Someone who also had a great many personal demons to face."

"Was this person close to you?" asked Donnelly.

"Very close. She was my flesh and blood. And she...she is no longer among the living." She turned from the window and stared at Donnelly, as if a statue carved from ruby and sapphire. "I killed her. Two weeks ago, on Omega."

Donnelly nodded.

"You do not seem upset," said Samara.

"Samara, I wont't judge you. After all, I'm here, right?" Donnelly gestured at the ship around them. "I work for some pretty horrible people. I had to, because they were the only ones fighting what needed to be fought. I don't judge anybody, not any more."

Samara crossed over to one of the couches and sat with deliberation. "An interesting position. Myself, I have done nothing but judge others. I have been the living embodiment of justice for four hundred years, always with one goal firmly in mind. Two weeks ago, I achieved that goal."

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She sagged, while staring at her folded hands. For the first time Donnelly got a sense of how truly ancient Samara was. "I watched my daughter's lifeblood run over my hands," she continued, in a very soft voice. "And I realized...how utterly alone she was. There was no one to mourn her, no one to fight for her. Not even I, who had given birth to her. All that was left of her was a broken body on the floor. And I know, in that regard, that I am just like her. I am utterly alone."

"Now, Samara," said Donnelly. "You're talking a load of nonsense, there. You've got a shipload of people who care for you. Heck, even Jack has said a kind word or two. Although I think she might have been drunk at the time."

Samara gave him a small, sad smile. "I appreciate the support. But I cannot reciprocate anyone's affection, romantic or otherwise. My code does not permit such things. When my oath to Shepard is completed, if I am still alive, I will be back to leading a solitary life."

They sat in silence for little while. The door hissed open, and Jack walked in. Donnelly almost did a double take. Was Jack wearing...a shirt? Okay, the sleeves were ripped off and its front had the image of a hand sticking up a giant middle finger, but it was still a shirt.

"Hey, guys," said Jack. Samara nodded to her, and Donnelly got to his feet.

"How are you, Jack?" asked the asari.

Jack took a deep breath, and rubbed her shaved head. "Not gonna lie, Blue, it feels like that time you kicked me in the face. But I do feel...lighter. I'll be okay."

Samara stood. "I believe I will actually dine with the rest of the crew tonight," she said. The justicar winked at Donnelly and left.

Jack walked up to Donnelly as the door closed. Her face was still and serious.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey yourself."

Jack held out her hands, and Donnelly took them.

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you earlier," said Jack. "Back in the hangar, I mean. I was a real mess for a couple of hours. It was just...everything coming back at once, you know?"

Donnelly nodded. "It's okay, Jack. You don't have to explain."

"No, I do. You deserve that." She dropped his hands and stepped past him to the window. She turned away from the void outside and leaned against the transparency. Her hands were in her pants pockets and her eyes were staring at the floor.

"When I got back," she continued. "I was going to give you the fuck of the century. And not because I owed you, but because I wanted to. Now...things have changed."

Donnelly faced her and folded his arms, to avoid him clenching his fists. He knew very well what had changed. He wanted to curse at Jack, he wanted to punch a wall into oblivion. But as much as he hated to admit it, Jack deserved to be happy for once. And didn't Shepard deserve a little happiness as well?

"I imagine things have changed. He's a very lucky man." said Donnelly. He managed to keep his voice from wavering.

Jack looked up at him, completely confused. "What? Who?"

Donnelly held up a placating hand. "Just be gentle with him, okay? He's been through a lot. He was effectively dead for two years, a lot of his friends have abandoned him-"

Jack gave a brief laugh. "Shepard? You think I want to go get my freak on with the Commander instead?"

Donnelly suddenly realized he had no idea what was going on. "Um...I...you don't?"

"Oh please, big guy. A girl has some standards."

"But...he's..."

Jack pushed off of the port and walked forward. "Oh, I know, I know. Everybody looooves Shepard, right? Because he's got the chin, and the abs, and the hair, and those big blue eyes, and that cocky little fucking grin. Plus the whole Space Hero thing. I admit, he would be a fun fling." Jack folded her arms as well while she stood in front of Donnelly. "But," she said, "Shepard doesn't do flings. He's not the type. So, if you want to be with him, you're with him."

Donnelly dropped his arms to his sides. "Yeah, but still-"

Jack reached out and touched one finger to his chest. "Shh, it's okay, let momma finish. He's a fixer," she said. The biotic began walking around Donnelly, dragging her finger across his chest, then along his upper arm, then around his back as she paced. "Shepard is a good guy," she said, "but he wants to have his perfect little Space Heroine to stand beside him. And so he would try to make me into his image, to fix me. I don't have any illusions about myself. I know that I am not fixable. Not in that way. Not in the way that he wants."

Jack circled back around, her finger now back in the middle of Donnelly's chest. She looked up at him with a solemn expression. "Shepard and I would be terrible for each other," she said. She dropped the finger, then put that hand on her hip. She tapped her chin with the other hand, as if sizing him up. Donnelly didn't speak.

"No," she said, after a few moments. "I think I like 'em brawny, and clever, and smart enough to know when to leave me the fuck alone."

She stepped forward and pressed her face into his shirt. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Donnelly finally took in a breath as he put his arms around her. She pressed in even harder.

"I'm still gonna give you the fuck of the century," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. "I just...I want this to work. I figured I should take my time for once and try to do things differently." She tilted her head up to look at him. "Is that okay?"

He smiled. "Well, I dunno lassie. My social calendar's fillin' up pretty fast. I might not be able to squeeze you in for about a month-"

"Oh, har har. I'll squeeze something on you, doofus."

They smiled at each other for a moment, and then Jack stepped back. She took Donnelly's hand and towed him over to one of the couches. "Sit," she commanded.

He did so. "Er, what's this all about?" he said.

"Dude, just 'cause we're not gonna fuck right now doesn't mean we can't have some fun."

"Ah, I see," said Donnelly. He rubbed one suddenly sweaty hand on his thigh.

Jack stepped forward, shoving one of her thighs between his legs and planting her feet between his legs. "Why, Mister Donnelly. I do believe you're actually nervous." Her smile was predatory.

"Well, it is a little public here," he replied. "Anybody could walk in."

"What's the matter, big guy?" Jack abruptly threw her legs over his and straddled his lap, her thighs tight against his hips. Their bellies pressed against each other. Her face was now an inch from his. Her earthy scent was everywhere, surrounding him like an aura. Her huge brown eyes filled his vision. "You tellin' me you never made out in the back seat of your parent's car?" she breathed, her lips a scant centimeter from his own.

"Well, no, but there was this one time I had a wee fondle in-"

Jack grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him.

Donnelly was surprised at how gentle she was. He had expected a lot of teeth and aggression, but Jack was almost hesitant, her tongue slowly sliding in and exploring his mouth. Donnelly slid his hands around her slender back and reciprocated, gently teasing her lips and teeth with his own tongue. He ran one hand up her spine and ran his fingers over her shaved scalp. She gave a little moan of encouragement. Donnelly's lips suddenly tingled, and he opened his eyes to see little blue sparks of biotic energy crawling over Jack's head.

"Just happens when I get excited," she murmured into his mouth, and kept exploring.

After what seemed like much too short of a time, Jack broke the kiss and looked at him. Her dark eyes sparkled. "Would you like to know what I'm going to do to you, big guy?" she said, in a low growl.

Donnelly nodded, feeling again like he wasn't getting enough air.

"Then let me tell you." She moved her mouth over to his ear and cupped a hand over it.

"Ripped a copy of my helmet cam footage from the hospital," she whispered. "Also got a couple of file fragments, I don't think Shepard saw me record them. They're encrypted. Is Buckethead in on the plan?"

She pulled back and smiled at him.

"Mmm, sounds nice," said Donnelly. "Now let me tell you what I'm gonna do tae ye." It was his turn to cup his hand and whisper in her ear. "Tali is willing, she knows about blind spot. She will get Garrus in the loop. Tali also suggested Mordin as recruit. I will try to engage him."

Jack turned to look at him. "You've got a dirty mind, big guy. I like it."

The door hissed open, and Miranda walked in with a datapad in hand. "Donnelly, I need to go over these time estimates for our refit...oh." The XO stopped and stared at them, with a blank look of shock on her face.

Donnelly gave her a cheery wave with one unoccupied hand. "Evenin', ma'am," he said.

"Er, you..." Miranda stopped speaking.

"Aw, it looks like the cheerleader's at a loss for words, sweetie," purred Jack, and ground her hips against him.

"Technically, ma'am, I am off duty," said Donnelly, and winked at Miranda.

"I, yes, I see. Refit. Estimates. Need, um, come by my office when you are...done. Actually, it can wait," Miranda turned in a daze and wandered out. The door closed behind her.

Jack and Donnelly looked at each other, and dissolved in laughter. "That was awesome," laughed Jack, and snuggled against him.

"I know," replied Donnelly. "I never thought I'd see the ice queen at a loss for words." They lay in silence for a bit. Donnelly felt like he could sit here forever with Jack's weight fitting into him, her head tucked under his chin as if they were two puzzle-pieces which had finally been put together properly.

"Mr. Donnelly?" said EDI.

"What is it, EDI? You can call me Marcus, you know."

"Very well, Marcus. I wanted to apologize to you and to Jack."

Jack sat up. "For what?" she asked.

The AI sounded embarrassed. "I notified XO Lawson of Marcus's location. That was before he had started engaging in sexy-time shenanigans with you. I did not intend to have her interrupt your time together."

Jack and Donnelly looked at each other in confusion. Sexy-time? mouthed Jack.

"Er, EDI," said Donnelly. "Did you just use the term 'sexy-time shenanigans'?"

"I did, Marcus," replied EDI with something which sounded very much like pride. "Ms. Goto and Ms. Chambers have been very insistent on helping me expand my vocabulary. I plan to extend this project to include input from other crewmembers. I have attempted to engage Ms. 'Zorah vas Neema for her input, but my only vocabulary expansion was in the area of quarian expletives. Logging out."

"Shenanigans," mused Jack. She smiled and traced one finger on his chest. "Well, I guess duty calls."

Donnelly sighed. "I guess it does. I'd better go see what Her Nibs wants."

"Hey, we're going back to Illium, right?"

"That's the plan. Tuchanka first, then to Illium for shore leave and refitting the Normandy."

"Mmmm. I think we should get a hotel room in Illium, big guy."

"Oh?" He liked the sound of that.

"Oh, yeah," said Jack, then rolled her eyes. "Since apparently you want to fuck in private like some kind of weirdo."

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Tali was finally able to force herself to get all the way through Jack's camera footage from the Pragia facility. Even after twelve years in ruin, there was still enough gore streaked on the walls to make the quarian feel faint. She heard Jack's dry, almost clinical voice as she detailed the tortures undergone by her and other children. She heard how human children had been brought there packed in crates like so much cargo. How they had been injected and implanted, forced into using their newfound biotic powers to try to kill each other.

"Sometimes," Jack said offscreen, "they claimed they didn't have enough anesthetic. So we got whittled on without being put under. Heh. Those were interesting days." The camera panned across a small reclining chair, sized for a child. The chair had leather straps attached to its arms and at its bottom. There were several large bloodstains soaked into the white upholstery.

There was another, larger piece of furniture that also had white upholstery. It was almost like a massage table, but there were leather straps down around its legs near where one's arms would dangle. "Oh, this one," said Jack's dry voice. "Yeah, I remember being strapped down to this. Face down, and they put all sorts of needles into my back." A hand came into frame, indicating particular stained areas of the upholstery. "Here, and here, and here...about twelve big needles. All along my back. I really don't like needles."

They'd found a ramp down into the depths of the facility. The ramp was lined with small, cramped cells. Each was barely one meter wide. "I think this is where the other kids were kept," said Jack. "I was their star pupil, so I got the penthouse, right?" There was an emotionless chuckle.

It wasn't until they reached Jack's cell that she heard some emotion creep into the young biotic's voice. Jack pointed out the huge swath of old, clotted blood which marked her very first kill. "It was so easy," she said, almost in wonder. "His head came apart like it was nothing. That was when I realized I didn't have to be afraid anymore."

Tali saw the one-way glass which a young Jack thought showed the entire world. It looked out over the little arena where Jack had been forced to fight other biotically-enhanced children. "They had this little implant that rewarded me with drugs if I fought well," said Jack's dry voice. "I'm pretty fucked up, Boss. I really got to like fighting. It's almost like sex to me at this point."

She saw Jack's bed, which also had restraints built into its frame. There was a desk, which Jack described as her first real friend. Tali saw Jack's hand trail across the desk surface, almost as if she was saying farewell. There was more exploration, more reminiscing. And at the end the camera swung around to show Shepard, standing like carved granite in the middle of Jack's cell. His face was grave and unreadable.

"Okay, Boss," said Jack, and her voice choked. "Let's plant the bomb and get the hell out of here."

Tali clicked the vid off and closed her omni-tool. She leaned her visor on her gloved hands. "Keelah," she murmured. Around her thrummed the drive core of the Normandy, a vast heartbeat that she normally found soothing and restful. However, she knew that tonight she would not be sleeping well.

Her next task...she hesitated for a bit. It would almost be better if she couldn't decrypt the file fragments that Jack had found. It would be horrible, but it would leave the whole thing as just some awful old mystery. Because if this was a Cerberus facility, then everything changed. She knew Shepard. He had faced down a horror older than civilizations, his blue-gray eyes never wavering.

If Cerberus was responsible for Pragia, then Shepard would not rest until their organization was ashes.