Crossing the River

Jordan walked around the rear of the auditorium, checking the sound levels.
"Excuse me," said a nervous voice. A young Asari, wearing a band T-shirt, touched Jordan's arm. "Are you with the band?"
Jordan grinned. It never failed to amuse him that no one recognized him when he was offstage. "Yeah, I'm checking the acoustics." He looked curiously at her.
The Asari bit her lower lip nervously. "Do you know... are they staying here after the concert?"
"Yeah, they're supposed to be doing some promotional stuff for Elysium's tourism board tomorrow. Down at the south Mall."
"Uh... do you get to talk to them? Like, if I gave you a message, would you pass it on to them?"
He could tell that she was serious, and far in the back of his mind he could hear a soft whisper of warning. "I will, what is this about anyway?"
She shook her head nervously, and handed him a tiny fandisc. "Could you give that to Jordan T? Tonight? Please, it's really important."
"Sure," he promised. "I'll make sure he takes a look at it."
"But after the concert!" she exclaimed. "I don't want him to read it until after the concert."
"Okay."
"Thanks," she said gratefully. "I've gotta go, my dad will kill me if I miss the shuttle."
"You're not going to be at the concert tonight?"
She shook her head. "I gotta go, thanks again!"
Jordan watched her leave, and entered the data into his omni-tool, along with a note to review it after the concert. It was a fan letter, as he had suspected. Since she was going to meet her father, he figured it wasn't a note threatening suicide, so he left it for later.
He finished the checks, and walked back to the stage. His grandfather, a seasoned conductor, had drilled the importance of personally checking the acoustics of every venue before a performance. Jordan checked the amplifiers and the sound system hookups, and saw how pleased the stagehands were at his competence and interest.
Finally, everything was ready. The crowd was still taking their seats, and had been watching people on stage scurry back and forth with curiosity.
It wasn't until his assistant brought out the black Gibson, with the name "Mei" written on it in old Earth characters, that they realized who he was. Jordan blushed, and pulled the strap over his head while the crowd erupted in cheers. He pulled off his baseball cap, and handed it to his assistant.
Hesse and Max joined him on stage. "Ready to go?" They nodded, and Jordan walked up to the mic. "Hey there." He waited until they quieted down. "Welcome to Elysium's Martin Auditorium! We're going to start off with something for our Turian fans, it's off the new release. It's called 'Spirits of the Song,' it's a little different, we hope you like it."
Hesse and Max were standing next to him, and all three started singing the a capella piece that Jordan had written for the fans who liked his lyrics more than his music. It was a bittersweet song, about life, passing by in front of someone who wasn't connected to anything at the moment and would never see any of these scenes again. Since there was no music beyond their voices, Jordan could basically tell the story any way he wanted to. A back and forth between Max and Hesse in the middle, a solo for each of them, a vocal challenge that all of them had really enjoyed practicing. The crowd was transfixed, silent, not wanting to miss a single word. Max's solo ended, and they stepped back, took a bow to wild cheers and applause.
The rest of the set was just as good. They performed all their original songs, except the instrumental tracks, and some new songs that Jordan had written last year. When they announced at the end that the band was breaking up, there was shocked silence. Jordan didn't explain their reasoning, that all three friends felt that military service was more important than just being famous. "We'll miss you all, keep writing us. We'll still get your messages." Jordan looked at Max and Hesse. "And just so you don't forget us, we're going to close with an old favorite - just remember, we wrote this when we were young and stupid. Of course we know that Spacer girls aren't really like this."
"They're worse!" shouted Max, and everyone laughed.
The bouncy, silly song let them leave on an upbeat note. Jordan shook hands, stamped datapads, and hugged excited fans until his omni-tool beeped. He excused himself, left Max and Hesse to do all the flirting, and retreated to his dressing room. The alarm was to remind him to read the letter from the young Asari.
"Dear Jordan T," the letter began, "I hope you believe what I'm going to tell you. I'm a Siarist, and even though you refuse to admit it, I think that you are too. At least, you understand that the whole universe is connected. Your music proves that. My father is a Batarian, and he works with some really bad people. They have this plan, they're going to attack Elysium tomorrow. They've got this whole thing worked out, and they won't stop anyone from leaving tonight, but no one will be able to get past their blockade to help. I'm telling you this because I want you to leave and keep making music, but now that I've written this, I realize you're probably not going to leave, are you? You're going to stay and try to fight. Because that's what you do, isn't it? I know we'll never meet, and I hope you survive the attack and make more music. But whatever happens, I'm sure that we'll meet somewhere on the other side of Eternity." Jordan recognized the last line. It was from 'Eternity in your eyes,' one of their songs that was ridiculously popular with Asari. He could feel the truth in every word that she had written. The soft whisper of danger in the back of his mind was louder now.
Jordan tried to think. He couldn't warn anyone, not if they already had a blockade, and not without endangering her life. He left the auditorium, and walked quickly back to the hotel where they were staying. There was something that he hadn't told Max and Hesse yet, the real reason he had decided to continue with the Alliance. Jordan opened his bags and pulled out his armor and started pulling it on.
Jordan started planning out attack patterns in his head. They knew that some Alliance military officers would be on Elysium; the outpost would probably be one of the first places they would strike. A well-timed attack there would probably cripple resistance among the survivors. No doubt they were expecting some resistance.
But they weren't expecting an N7 Infiltrator.
He picked up his sniper rifle, checked the clip on his pistol. Jordan looked out the window, making sure he was still in shadow. The sun was setting. He couldn't stop himself from grinning at the memory of another sunset. Everything was so different now. This time, he wasn't too young to fight.