Epilogue:

"They will not accept her."

Astraea smiled a rueful smile before replying, "And greetings to you, as well, Didaskala."

The asari who'd mentored her in the ways of the Code stood by, leaning on a column. She sighed and repeated herself, "They will not accept her."

"Was it not you who told me that justicars are not chosen, they choose?" They both turned to watch a slim figure dance through martial forms as old as asari history. Astraea felt pleased to note that Sister had finally mastered the sixth form, and in only four years, too. Quite the achievement, considering others of her 'peer group,' older asari who joined the order at the same time as she, still struggled with the fourth. "That they either are or are not justicars?"

"As true now as when I said it." Her peer flashed wonder at a particularly tricky standing leap. "She is no biotic."

Astraea felt a lack of surprise that her mentor would bring that up, being a powerhouse of biotic force. "There are some of us for whom the talents are weak. It does not hinder us, or our pursuit of justice."

"She will be old and die before she can possibly learn all the Sutras. Or the forms."

"A life spent in the study of justice is not a wasted life." She smiled as she then continued, "Do you lament her not being asari? Justice does not just belong to only us. We do not own it. Nor does age automatically grant wisdom."

"She burns too hot, like all the shorter-lived races. Her judgments will be rushed and ill-considered."

Astraea put aside the urge to correct her peer on Sister's behalf. For she often had to push the girl into making any decision at all. Sister kept claiming the lack of information and perspective. Too many variables, she'd cry, much to Astraea's exasperation. She rumbled a chuckle. "Funny. That's what she says about us."

"Explain."

"Sister believes that we leave large holes in the fabric of the galactic community. That a judgment isn't only just or unjust, but a combination of both, on a sliding scale of repercussions in the near and far future."

Her mentor froze and contemplated for a long while the girl out there on the sand. Astraea let her ponder, while she waited for the expected comment, which came forthwith. "That is a deep understanding of the Code that I did not expect her to have realized this early."

"She does not know of the work we do after judgment. The rebuilding of colonies that have had their corrupted leadership routed. Or the charities given to orphans and widows. The many ways we restore balance after destroying it. She came to this truth on her own, without my help."

Astraea could see the argument breaking down in her peer's eyes, but ever unwilling to budge, her fellow justicar said, as a last ditch effort, "But she is so young! Those who find us have lived centuries steeped in sin."

"She has seen more wrong and injustice than many and burns with the need to right it. She has killed since she's been able to hold a weapon. Who are we to deny her this path when she so clearly needs it? And fits so well within it?" Astraea smiled in empathy and understanding of her friend's distress. "We fear change and difference. We see a threat in those who carry the flame of youth merely because we think they will burn themselves or us with it. Must we mother the universe? Do we not have enough to do just fixing that which has gone wrong?

"Time will tell if I am mistaken, but I believe, I have to believe, that past this apocalypse on the horizon, a future rife with hope exists."

Taken aback by Astraea's tirade, her mentor blinked her pale blue eyes and said, "The student becomes the teacher."

"That's as it should be. I wonder what more I shall learn from her, in the fullness of time." Sister waved to her from the training grounds, a merry smile on her face. Astraea waved back.

"There's a gathering. The Assembly meets this afternoon."

"We're moving against the Reapers?"

"Yes. Unlike the Republic's leaders, justicars know truth when we hear it. I come to bring my findings to share." Her mentor's gaze turned inward. "I have seen things, Astraea. Horrors."

"Then it is good we gather. Dark times need strong defenders."

Her fellow justicar agreed with a hum, then said, "Bring your protege. I stand with you."

"Thank you, Samara. That means a lot to me." As Astraea watched her ruby-clad friend walk away, she mused over what would come of that afternoon's meeting of all the justicars living today. So many in one place. Not as many as once were, but might be again, she thought as her gaze drew back to Sister smiting imaginary foes with lethal skill.

Astraea snapped her fingers, loud and carrying. Sister stopped her training and trotted over to kneel at her side. "Yes, Didaskala?"

Such a warmth filled her. "Go into town and procure us some formal leathers."

"What color?" Sister knew Astraea favored white. Her twinkling golden eyes asked another question entirely.

"Whatever color that strikes your fancy. We're going to Assembly in three chimes of the hour."

Later, as she strode along the ancient congress of martyrs, the sight of all her sisters in one place stole her breath. Strong and grim, they stood in all their glory and she was fortunate enough to be counted among their number.

An annihilation of justicars, she thought with thunderous joy. She shot a wink at Sister, who gaped in awe at the august Assembly. Well, an annihilation . . . plus one.

A/N: Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. lol. I hope you enjoyed it and if you feel the urge, gimme some feedback. We poor authors starve if no one gives us our cheese. All props to Aria's Afterlife Forum for giving us such wonderful competitions to stretch our creative muscles for.