Having eaten an army ration — she had no desire to go to the improvised frigate mess hall, or even to leave the medbay at all — Chakwas ran her eyes over the patient status indicators once more.
She confirmed that everything was more or less stable and there were no signs of deterioration.
Then she finally stood up.
She walked first to the asari’s bed, then to the turian’s.
She performed quick manual examinations, calmed down, and returned to her worktable.
Leaning her hands on the tabletop, Chakwas read another file from the information feed on the desktop omni-tool screen about what was happening at the site of the unexpected and immediately completely classified excavations.
The doctor knew that a column of equipment belonging to the archaeologists who had previously discovered the Beacon had been dispatched to the excavation site; she knew that Shepard had flown there as well — and now she was reading the next, albeit very short, report from the scene with interest.
She understood more and more acutely that Shepard loved her.
Loved her as a woman.
But at the same time, he didn’t pressure her, didn’t pursue her, didn’t seek only to satisfy his eternal male desires.
He, which Chakwas felt no less acutely, loved her.
First and foremost as an independent, self-valuable person.
It sometimes happens that fate gives one person the opportunity to simultaneously experience love for not one, but several women.
And not always in the interests of Choice.
But also, among other things, to understand whether that person is solid, strong in spirit, capable of staying within the necessary bounds.
And Shepard, as Karin now reasonably believed, knew how to stay within bounds.
He knew, felt, saw that Chakwas was not indifferent to Anderson, that she gave preference to the ship’s commander, and he found this normal and ordinary.
And therefore, he didn’t interfere in the situation, maintaining enough distance between himself and Karin so as not to cause worry or inconvenience to either her or David.
Karin couldn’t deny that she also singled out Shepard among the other men of the Normandy.
He was unusual.
And what she had witnessed here, in the medbay, only confirmed this unusualness with complete certainty.
With the arrival of John Shepard on board the ship, much had changed.
Qualitatively, not just quantitatively.
If not for these changes… There would have been far more patients in the medbay.
Severe patients.
The easy, untroubled trip-flight to Eden Prime would have turned into a beating of the frigate by the Reaper, and then…
Even with all her medical cynicism, Karin could hardly imagine, overcoming fear, horror, and indignation, the kind of destruction the Reaper — a guest from the past — could have wrought on Eden Prime after settling on its surface.
The Reaper, which almost all sentients currently inhabiting the Galaxy, its explored part, preferred to think of as something distant and therefore not dangerous at all.
Yes, Chakwas had heard the Normandovtsy talking about how Shepard had presented Anderson with proof that the Reaper was heading for Eden Prime.
It was moving under camouflage, but no one was trying to detain, stop, or destroy it.
Now the Reaper was immobilized.
It was quiet.
And, it seemed, had even resigned itself to its unenviable fate as the defeated.
But, for some reason, Karin Chakwas had a feeling that Shepard would definitely pay attention to this ship in the near future.
Now the ship’s doctor didn’t believe, didn’t want to believe, that the frigate would simply have to fly away from the planet, leaving this terrible, powerful ship on its surface.
A superdreadnought by most existing classifications among sentient organics.
Work was in full swing in the women’s cubicle.
Taking advantage of the fact that, while docked at a developed planet, the number of watches on the ship was reduced to a minimum, the women had taken up a pleasant and useful task: sewing numerous wardrobe items for the medbay patients.
Behind the tightly closed door of the cubicle, an endless conversation about what had happened over the past few hours continued.
Underwear for the asari and the turian had already been sewn; now lightweight outer clothing, including jumpsuits, was being created.
“Who’s going to Karin?” asked Caroline, pressing the pedal of the sewing machine and guiding the fabric under the needle holder with her fingers.
“She won’t tolerate a crowd in her domain.
And our crowd might, and most likely will, really and seriously stress out the patients.”
“I’ll go,” said Yelena.
“And me,” said Monica, removing another sewn jumpsuit piece from under the needle holder.
“We’d be glad if you came with us, Kara.”
“Agreed,” Grenado grinned.
“I think we’ll manage in an hour.
Mandira, send Karin a message that we’ll be there soon.”
“Done,” Rahman replied, packing the underwear into separate bags.
“Karin will check, of course, but I think they’ll both like these things.
They’ll suit them.”
Having received word from her friends that the work was nearing completion, Chakwas personally checked on the patients’ condition once more.
Everything was in order: both the turian and the asari were on the path to a full, guaranteed recovery, and nothing indicated any problems or dangers.
Returning to the table, Karin didn’t even notice herself smiling.
She liked realizing that, by joining forces, she and Shepard had performed a real miracle.
No medic could now claim to have managed to bring a sentient organic back from a husk state to normal.
But she and John had succeeded fully, as evidenced by the results of the examination and the results of continuous automatic instrumental monitoring.
The awareness of a job well done warmed Karin’s soul.
The ship’s doctor quietly and calmly sank into her chair, feeling new strength appear and her very essence speak of readiness for real medical work.
Chakwas had no doubt that ahead of the frigate’s crew and command lay battles that would coalesce into what people usually called “war.” And that meant that she, the doctor, would have to demonstrate in practice what she had been preparing for all this peaceful time.
She would have to pull many Normandovtsy, and, as it turned out, not only Earthlings, back from the Brink, to push them away from that deathly flickering line beyond which lay oblivion.
The flashing call signal did not catch Chakwas off guard: over the long time, she had learned to determine with maximum accuracy the moment someone from the Normandy appeared at the medbay door.
Getting up from her chair, Karin walked to the door, entered the code, and let Caroline, Yelena, and Monica inside, laden with bags of clothing.
Glancing at the white panels of the screens separating the head physician’s office from the beds, the guests, trying to maintain almost complete silence, unloaded the bags onto empty chairs and one of the unoccupied worktables.
Chakwas, mindful of the turian’s extremely acute hearing, silently, with sparse gestures, directed the women to sort the bags into two groups.
Only then did she pull back the screens, allowing her friends to see the patients.
A few minutes later, the bags appeared on stools next to the beds.
The guests, drawing the screen panels closed, returned to the head physician’s worktable.
Chakwas thanked her friends with a slight bow; they headed for the exit, and soon a signal flashed on the panel above the table, indicating that the medbay door lock was engaged.
Of course, Chakwas had looked through the contents of the bags and used instruments to check the safety of the fabrics and fittings.
The results of the inspection and check completely satisfied her: her friends had done a splendid job; it was clear that the clothes and underwear were sewn with love, with quality, and from the best materials currently available on board the ship.
Understanding that this couldn’t have been done without contacting the new supply officer, Karin smirked with just her lips, remembering that this post was now occupied by a very worthy Normandovets.
It could be stated with complete certainty that the ship’s women had been helped by the ship’s men as well, since the supply officer had become an informal center of attraction for the frigate’s crew and command.
Since the hypnotic influence did not allow the patients to wake up on their own, Chakwas went behind the screens, performed repeat examinations, and reviewed the machine protocols of the monitoring systems.
She confirmed that now both the turian and the asari were sleeping a completely natural sleep without the slightest trace of hypnotic blocks.
She rarely used hypnosis in her practice, but she was calm about the fact that she was considered one of the best medical specialists in this field.
Walking through the medbay, Karin conducted a selective control inventory and entered the alcove occupied by the turian just as Saren opened his eyes.
“Doctor?” the turian said, turning his head toward her.
“What are those bags?”
“Your clothes, Saren,” Karin replied, performing a quick manual examination and noting that the patient had fully adjusted to his role and his situation.
“New?” genuine interest sounded in Arterius’s voice.
“From where?”
“While we’re hanging next to the Reaper, the crew and command members have a bit more free time.
The women and girls decided to help.
And they sewed clothes and underwear for you.”
“And for her?” the turian indicated with a glance the screen behind which the asari’s bed was located.
Karin nodded affirmatively.
“It seems he’s already starting to genuinely care about the asari,” the doctor thought.
“He probably also believes that an apology should be effective, active.
Not just clothed in words.”
“I didn’t know… that you humans did this,” the turian said with respect.
“We do help those in trouble return to a normal state,” Karin clarified.
“You, Saren, have recovered enough to sit up in bed and familiarize yourself with the contents of the bags,” the doctor clarified without a smile, seeing how the turian quickly took advantage of the permission given to him and, sitting with his back to Chakwas, was already turning the jumpsuit he had pulled from the bag in his hands.
“This is all…” Arterius breathed out in surprise, turning around.
“Hand-sewn?!”
Chakwas nodded silently.
The turian got to his feet and, almost instantly, dressed in the new underwear, and then, with visible pleasure, put on the jumpsuit.
Sitting down on the cot, Arterius looked around.
“Thank you, Karin.
I will definitely thank everyone who made this clothing for me.” He hesitated.
“May I meet with Nihlus?
And with Benezia?”
“Later, Arterius.
You will meet with your student later.
And with her, too.” Chakwas disconnected some of the instruments and put the sensors into the pockets of her datapad.
“You know she also needs to get dressed.
And she, by the way, hasn’t woken up yet.
You’ll have to wait.
For now, you can walk around the alcove, get used to it.”
“I was… pulled back from the Brink.” Arterius carefully and slowly stood up, took a few steps, and stopped.
“It’s hard to believe right away.
You did it, and…”
“The first mate of the ship’s commander, Captain John Shepard.
The two of us,” Chakwas clarified.
“If someone had told me about this — I definitely wouldn’t have believed it.” Arterius turned on the spot toward Chakwas, took a step toward her.
The turian’s bony, two-meter figure didn’t frighten Karin; she had long been accustomed to the fact that tall turians towered over most Earthlings like towers.
“And now I not only believe.
I know it,” he leaned over Karin.
“I understand that we turians don’t have lips familiar to you humans.
But — allow me to kiss your hands, Doctor.”
“Lips, Arterius, aren’t the main thing here.” Smiling completely sincerely, Karin replied quietly.
And she saw and felt how the turian carefully “pressed” his mouth to both of her wrists in turn.
“I’m glad you’ve recovered.
But — I ask you not to be overly active.
Let her get used to things too.”
“You assume…” Arterius said understandingly, straightening up and releasing the doctor’s hands.
“I assert,” Chakwas replied.
“You both will need to establish a normal relationship with each other.
And it would be better to do it within the medbay.
She remembers too well how you, while under the Reaper’s control, acted toward her… abnormally.”
“I remember,” Arterius darkened.
“I… several times… almost strangled her.
At that moment… I didn’t care that she was a woman.
I didn’t take that into account then.
Just as I didn’t take into account that she was, quite possibly, physically objectively weaker than me.
She’s not a warrior.
And she wasn’t prepared for such confrontations.
She relies too much on her racial weapon — biotics.
The Reaper disabled her biotics very quickly, first imperceptibly weakening them to the limit.
And she herself… Asari, unfortunately, don’t always know how to use their racial weapon effectively.
In non-standard situations.
It’s a good thing…” his questioning gaze bored into the doctor’s eyes.
“No, I found no traces of such encroachments during the examination,” Karin answered honestly, noting how the turian immediately, though not instantly, calmed down.
“But it really would be better for both of you to come to an agreement about everything within the medbay.”
“I’ll try, Doctor,” the turian sat down on the bed.
“Then…”
“The jumpsuit will easily withstand you lying on the bed, Saren,” Karin smirked.
“So — lie down.
And rest.
You can even doze off.”
“You… fed me intravenously.
As you humans call it…” Saren hesitated.
“Intravenously.” Karin grew serious, seeing how carefully Saren was lying down on the bed.
“You can wait until Benezia gets her bearings.”
Chakwas left the “alcove” occupied by the turian and, heading toward the “alcove” with the asari, drew the screen curtain closed.
Benezia was already awake.
Chakwas approached the bed, performed a quick manual examination of the patient, glanced at the screens of the instrument complex, and disconnected some of the units.
The asari silently watched the doctor’s actions.
“You have a comfortable bed, Doctor,” T’Soni said quietly.
“Especially for the head.
We’re used to sleeping with our heads turned left or right, often sleeping on our sides so as not to pinch our crests, but sleeping like this… it’s unusual, but very pleasant.
Is this,” the matriarch indicated the bags with a glance, “for me?”
“Yes, my friends wanted to do something nice for you.
And they sewed new clothes.
And underwear, too.”
“And…”
“You’re perfectly fine, Benezia,” the doctor glanced at the diagnostic screens again.
“So you can sit up in bed first.
And then stand up.”
“Thank you,” the matriarch easily pushed back the blanket, moved the frame aside.
And, unashamed of her nudity, sat up in bed.
“How good it is, after all, that I… managed to avoid personal destruction.
Physical destruction is… less important to me; I know I’m already quite old…”
“Benezia…” Chakwas said with slight reproach.
“Karin, allow me to call you by your first name, Doctor.” T’Soni put on her underwear and pulled on her jumpsuit.
“I understand.
Seeing me, you could hardly believe that I am…
soft and accommodating.
Yes, even though I am a religious leader of my race, one of the asari religious leaders,” the matriarch clarified.
“Even though I am a member of the Asari Matriarchy.
But…
I have been absent from asari space for far too long.
And I understand that after what happened to me…
I have changed too significantly, too deeply, too completely.
For an asari of my age, such upheavals…
are too defining.
So…
I am very glad that it was you who helped me return from there.” The asari winced, remembering how she had existed as a willless shell, subservient to the Reaper’s will.
“And I am glad that it was you, a woman, who met me now.
And helped me.” Benezia paused for a few seconds.
“I will always remember this.
And I will always value your help.
And your support…” She glanced back at the screen that hid the bed with the turian.
“He…
woke up before I did and was already able to move around quite actively?”
Karin nodded.
Benezia, noting the nod, continued:
“And you…” the asari began hesitantly.
“I assume it would be best for both of you to talk.
To communicate with each other.
Now that you are both ordinary sentients again.” Chakwas placed a noticeable emphasis on the last word she spoke.
“To talk here, in the medbay.
To find common ground.
You are not enemies.
Your state of subservience to the Reaper is in the past.
And now you both must return to your worlds…”
“Are you sure about that, Karin?” The matriarch’s eyes glinted unpleasantly.
“I am certain,” Chakwas replied.
“We will not forcibly detain either of you here aboard our ship.”
“You’re not telling me something, Karin.” The matriarch lowered her head slightly, looking at her interlocutor from under her brows.
“I assume that Saren Arterius, as a Spectre, as the mentor of Spectre Nihlus Kryik who is aboard our ship, will join him, his student,” Karin said, tracking the changes in her interlocutor’s mood.
“And you…
you must return to asari space.
Return renewed.”
“You assume that in connection with your ship’s encounter with the Reaper…
much may change?” The matriarch straightened up, adjusted her jumpsuit, and stood.
“Very much, Benezia,” Chakwas said with a trace of clearly readable sadness.
“We are on the threshold of a great war with hundreds of ships like that one.
And you yourself understand that now on their side there will be…”
“Very many inhabitants of the Galaxy whom these ships…” Benezia stumbled slightly, “will subjugate to their will, just as they did me and Saren…” She darkened.
“You are right, Karin.
I have the same grim assumptions…
And now I understand that I must not only return to asari space, but also find my daughter.
I need to break this protracted period of estrangement.
She is my only daughter.
And it will be…
very hard for me if she dies or is harmed in any way.
Do you know about the geth threat?”
“In general terms,” Karin nodded.
“The geth are spreading across the Galaxy,” the matriarch emphasized.
“And knowing that the Reapers will easily subjugate them to their will, I cannot be calm for Liara right now.
I understand that the Matriarchy…” The asari paused for several seconds, and Chakwas could see how difficult it was for her to decide to say so much out loud, frankly and clearly, “is inertial in its thinking and its actions.
So it will try to hold me accountable for everything I did while not in control of myself.
I am ready to bear that responsibility.
I understand they will try to punish me, including as a show.
But I do not want to be punished knowing that I am still estranged from Liara.”
“If the ship’s command decides — we will help you, Benezia.”
“You, an Alliance reconnaissance ship, Terrans, humans — you will help me?” Benezia was genuinely surprised.
“And why not?” said Chakwas.
“If we are already being drawn into a confrontation, and then will enter a great war with the Reapers, why shouldn’t we humans help you, Benezia?
If I’m not mistaken, it’s quite on our way.”
“You know best, Karin,” the matriarch said thoughtfully, sitting down on the bed.
“You have restored me so thoroughly that I never cease to be amazed and astonished.
Although…
I understand that you…”
“I only restored your body, Benezia,” Chakwas confirmed.
“Your essence and soul were handled by First Mate Shepard.”
“I would like to thank him.
And,” the matriarch stood, stepping toward Chakwas, “I thank you, Doctor,” she bowed before the physician in a ceremonial asari bow, almost from the waist.
“I hope that you and I will be able to meet and talk more than once.
And I very much hope that while I am here, aboard your ship, we will be able to communicate quite closely.
I won’t hide it, you have interested me, Karin.
And now I feel the need to learn more about your race, about humans.
As much as possible.
And most importantly — to understand.”
“For now you need to stay within the medbay, Benezia.” Karin nodded, accepting the matriarch’s bow and gratitude.
“And first of all — talk to Saren.”
“I won’t hide it, I am a little afraid of him.
Even now.
I can’t forget how he several times…
nearly strangled me,” T’Soni said.
“If you are so convinced that I should start with a conversation with Saren…” She hesitated.
“Perhaps I should do just that.
But…”
“He is asleep.” Chakwas glanced at the screen of her omni-tool.
“He’s sleeping soundly,” the doctor clarified, looking at her interlocutor.
“And did he…
get clothes too?” Benezia’s voice was even and emotionless.
“Made by the Normandovtsy?”
“Yes,” Chakwas confirmed.
“He’s already dressed.
So from that side, neither of you will have any problems.”
“A new life must begin in new clothes,” Benezia said quietly.
Chakwas nodded, agreeing with her interlocutor’s opinion.
“Still, there is so much in common between us.
And yet the differences are so great and significant…
It’s good that we did not find ourselves forced to fight each other.
And yet, if we had…”
“Let’s not focus on that, Benezia.
Right now you have both survived.
You are both recovering.
Ahead of you both — life.
Yes, quite possibly under conditions of war with ships like that, but…
life.
Saren has a student — Nihlus Kryik, they are both Spectres, both warriors…”
“And if anything happens, they will both remain aboard your ship…
together,” the matriarch said thoughtfully, unafraid of repeating herself.
“Perhaps,” Karin agreed.
“And you need to find your daughter, restore your relationship with her.
In full normative measure.
You both need to return to asari space.
And, I won’t hide it, you can make your compatriots and fellow tribeswomen understand what enemy now opposes us better than any experts and specialists by position.
Rather than by fact.”
“You are right, Karin.
I had already thought about it, but you formulated this task incomparably more clearly than I did internally, for myself.
I accept your formulation as a basis,” the matriarch confirmed.
“You…”
“Let’s wait for the results of the excavations, Benezia.
I am inwardly convinced that we…
will have to stay on this planet.
To stay for a long time,” Chakwas clarified.
“But…
the war…” the matriarch noted cautiously and quietly.
“It cannot start instantly, Benezia.
We humans have been warring among ourselves for millennia.
And we understand clearly that a military confrontation, especially a large-scale one, is not a quick affair.
Right now, quite possibly, the pre-war period has begun.
And for now, we inhabitants of the Galaxy can at least try to prepare for the confrontation with the Reapers.
Both you and Saren can become the initiators of carrying out proper preparation.
What you have seen and felt — it will be valuable for other sentients to learn and understand.
Not only those belonging to your races.
The war will affect the entire galaxy.
And all its inhabitants.”
Benezia, after thinking for a few seconds, nodded briefly.