Author's note: I started writing this just after I finished playing The Arrival dlc and before any new information about ME3 was available, so this is now a bit outdated, but that's what I get for not writing very fast. I decided to finish it mainly because I never seem to be able to finish anything. Perhaps I should have just left well enough alone, but I couldn't let it go. I have never indulged in fan fiction before, but the second half of The Arrival was remarkably similar to a scenario that had been rattling around in my head for a Virmire Survivor adventure, so when The Arrival didn't end like I had originally imagined, I just had to write-up my version.

Standard spiel: Bioware copyright this, that and the other thing. Rated M because Shepard has a potty mouth.

The velocity of an object remains constant unless acted upon by an external force.

- Isaac Newton's First Law of Motion

"We're on approach to the Lambda Relay."

The view-ports ignited with blue fire as the mass effect field arced out to meet the approaching frigate. A familiar sense of vertigo washed over the commander as the field enveloped them and sent them hurtling across the galaxy. The sensation was comfortingly familiar. It was good to be aboard a ship again.

"Shit!"

Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko, formerly appointed Citadel Council liaison under Ambassador David Anderson, more recently assigned as acting CO of the SSV Thermopylae, was hauled abruptly and without preamble out of his quiet reflection by the sudden outburst from his newly assigned helmsman. He blinked. Eying him askance, Flight Lieutenant Danika Adams coughed in embarrassment. Though by no means her first cruise, this was her first tour aboard the Thermopylae and under his command. Clearly she wasn't sure where the boundaries of formality lay, or whether or not she'd just tap-danced the Charleston all over them.

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she cleared her throat. "Er, excuse me. Sir."

Alenko hid a smile. "No, I think 'Shit' just about covers it, Lieutenant," he assured her. "It looks like we're in the right place after all." Dominating the ship's main screen was a massive asteroid that was, by all appearances, on a collision course with the relay from which they had just exited.

"Commander, the trajectory indicates it's headed straight for the relay..." She trailed off, surveying the multitude of screens blinking and flashing about her. "Scanners show the presence of engines on the aft side of the base, and they're accelerating." She indicated a secondary terminal where the ship's VI was happily projecting the path of the satellite and possible results of such a collision. Geometry equations littered the monitor, coupled with handy charts, graphs and an artistic representation of the impact he could only assume had come from the extranet. None of the information was encouraging, not the least of which being the artist's rather vivid imagination.

He leaned forward for a better look. "Time until impact?"

"Maybe an hour, Sir. It doesn't appear to be moving very quickly yet," she observed, eying the charts dubiously.

"With that much mass, it wouldn't have to." Kaidan sighed. "Bring us in. Quietly."

A short time later found the commander in a small deserted docking bay on the starboard side of the asteroid. Looming above the archway of the deserted living area, the ominous clock ponderously counting down was hard to miss. According to the display, there were just under sixty minutes remaining until zero, whatever that may signify. Most likely time until impact, though I thought I had less time than that.

His pilot took that opportunity to chime in in his ear, "You have approximately fifty minutes to get in and out, Commander, though I can't say I recommend cutting it that close." So their clock is off? Why would they even have a clock? Who would put that there? This makes no sense.

"Acknowledged, Adams. What can you tell me about this place?" Alenko made his way to a nearby terminal, linking it with his omni-tool and scanning for manifestation logs.

"Well, it's Alliance,"the helmsman supplied.

"That much I gathered. What's its purpose?" The terminal was a mess. Half finished entries clogged the desktop, most completely incoherent, and all logs from more than a week ago were suspiciously absent.

There as a pause. "I can't tell, Sir. I don't have the clearance." She sounded embarrassed. "It's some kind of research facility under the command of Dr. Amanda Kenson, but I can't find much about what they were studying. Something they found out in the asteroid field. The engines are likely a by-product of the original creation of the facility and its relocation into a stable orbit, though that of course doesn't explain why they're only present on the one side. Or why they're being used to propel the whole base at a mass relay." Another pause, then the lieutenant continued, "Sir, how do you even know she's down there? Intel last pegged her on Arotoht."

He smiled humorlessly. "An illegal research lab in the middle of an enemy system on an asteroid hurtling towards certain destruction? If she isn't here somewhere, I'm going to have to seriously reevaluate my understanding of the laws of the universe." And Murphy's Law. And Shepard's Law.

The door slammed shut forcefully behind them, dislodging dust from the cavern's ceiling and effectively cutting off their only method of egress. "Of course," she said with the banality of someone commenting on the weather. With a jerk of her head she motioned for Alenko and Tali to take either side of the ordinance while she took up station at the midpoint. The panels opened with some effort and the trio spent several moments in tense silence as each worked to diffuse their portion. After the longest eight seconds of his life, the lieutenant bypassed his last wire, exhaling forcefully and rocking backwards on his heels. He looked up to see Tali had finish with hers, with Shepard a beat after. She gave the device an experimental kick. "Shepard: one, Murphy: zero."

"Murphy can't only be at zero, what about that turian bounty hunter with the ryncol?"

"New day, new round Lieutenant. If you want the actual score it's probably closer to eight thousand nine hundred and fifty-three to seven hundred and two."

"Who's winning?"

She raised an eyebrow as if to say, "you have to ask?" "He is."

Tali looked back and forth between the two marines.

"Does this sort of thing happen to you often?" asked the quarian suspiciously, straightening up and wiping her gloved hands on her envirosuit.

The commander grinned ruefully. "Join the Spectres; See the galaxy, meet new and interesting people trying to blow you sky high."

"Just… just checking."

As his pilot fell silent he returned his attention to the terminal, sifting through its contents. Its primary purpose seemed to be to monitor base communications. The last entry was marked as received from a private shuttle craft. Upon activation, his ears were met with a pleasant British accent.

"Kenson to Project Base."

"Good to hear your voice, Doctor. You coming home?"

"Affirmative. And I've got Commander Shepard with me."

He sucked in a breath. She was here. Or at least had been. Dread and relief paused briefly in their private war to conspire against him, setting his heart pounding painfully in his chest. For all his bravado and assertions to his crew, a small part of him, the part still accustomed to her being dead and not quite buried, hadn't really expected to find her. A smaller part wondered if he even wanted to.

The operator sounded almost as interested in that bit of news as he. And more than a little apprehensive. "Shepard? Really?"

"Tidy up the lab. The Commander needs to confirm the artifact."

"Uh, right. I'll get everything set up for your arrival. Project Base out."

The time-stamp read two days ago. He checked the log, but there were no more entries. Shepard had been here. And judging by the dire state of the rock on which he was currently riding, odds were pretty good she was still here. Somewhere. That ever-present lump reasserted itself in the pit of his stomach at the thought of their last meeting. There had been some words said that had had no right to ever have been spoken aloud. "Betrayal" sprang to mind. "Deserter". Not his finest moment. But what had she expected? She let me think she was dead for two goddamn years, and then just shows up out of the fucking blue with terrorists in tow like it was no big deal. Cerberus, of all people. What the hell was wrong with her?What could she possibly be thinking?

Maybe if you had let her open her mouth for longer than five seconds she might have explained it to you, smart guy, reasoned the knot in his gut. Cerberus has a network of spies. They knew where the Collectors were going to strike, they even have the goddamn schematics for the Normandy, do you really think there was any way she didn't know you were on Horizon? Why the hell do you think she was there?

To save the colonists?

You are not really helping your case here, asshole.

Alenko really hated that knot.

To say that meeting had not gone well was a bit of an understatement, but that had been one of the few times he had not been inclined to issue a full report to Anderson. He was not proud of some of the things he'd said to her. Most of the things he'd had said to her. No, petty abuse and cheap insults had not made their way into the retelling, and that omission had come around in the end to bite him in the ass.

"Uh, Sir, are you sure I'm the one you want to send in after her?" I'm probably the last person she wants to see. Besides, he thought darkly, I'm long retired from my baby-sitting duties.

"You spent thirteen months on her boat, Commander; you know how she thinks, you know where she'll go, you know what she'll do. The only other Alliance officer who can say that with any authority is currently ass-deep in alien politics and bullshit. And if nothing else, she'll listen to you."

"I'm... not sure that's true anymore, Admiral."

"I don't know what kind of spat you two had on Horizon, Commander, and frankly, I don't care. You are both adults and you're both marines and you will get the fuck over it, do I make myself clear? Shepard went in as a favor to me, I'm not going to leave her holding the bag."

"I... yes, Sir."

And so here he was. There had been a time, once long ago, when he would have followed her anywhere. A time when he had happily done just that, though even then it had felt like a wild goose chase. But in the intervening years the universe had reordered itself and those precious few months of frantic chase seemed more like a fevered dream with each passing day. He could no longer place such faith in her motivations, unconvinced as he was that her strings weren't being pulled. The irony that he was still following her even now – literally if not figuratively – did not escape him. More like clean-up duty. Tidying up her trail of breadcrumbs, hoping - hoping for what exactly? An apology? The chance to apologize? An explanation? Why didn't you take me with you? Even in his own head the question sounded pathetic. Focus, Alenko. One thing at a time.

Tracing the path of emergency lights, he strode through maze of corridors to a set of reinforced double doors. Only then did he notice the hum, an energy resonance reverberating in his teeth that had been slowly increasing. As the doors slid open, he was confronted with the source.

Whatever he had expected to find here, this certainly wasn't it. A twisted metal object stretched tendrils towards the ceiling, alight from the center by a ball of blue energy. Whispers at the very edge of his hearing vied for the commander's attention as his thoughts flew back to another time when he had encountered similarly strange alien technology. Just what is it with her and this stuff, anyway?

"It wasn't doing anything like that when they dug it up," Williams remarked wonderingly. She shrugged and turned away.

"Something must have activated it," he mused. The artifact pulsed and glittered with some sort of internal power source, the surface alive with energy and emitting a strange, almost in audible hum. Focusing on the sound, he realized it was less like a hum and more like a murmur, just beyond his range of hearing. Moving closer, he felt a wave of dark energy pulling at his senses...

He threw up a mental roadblock, derailing that train of thought. Even now, after all these years the guilt was nearly paralyzing, and high on the list of things he did not currently have time shifted his attention back to the matter at hand.

As before, it felt as though he could almost make out the murmurs. Now knowing better than to approach any further, he paused in the doorway, dread creeping up his spine. This was clearly the purpose of the research base and equally clearly of Reaper origin. Was this the evidence of invasion Kenson had found? What did it prove, exactly? And why was it out in the open like this? Surely a trained scientist would take more precautions with such a potentially dangerous artifact.

Kaidan's sense of apprehension intensified as he took note of the blood pooled around the base of the object, accompanied by other signs of a struggle. There had been a firefight here, but these pools were days old. Had the batarians followed Shepard here? Or had she come here to liberate the base? This "crashing asteroids into things" bit was well within their wheelhouse, but this was a batarian system, why would they want to destroy their own relay? To destroy the object? There were other puddles scattered around the room, some with scuff marks where bodies had clearly been dragged away. He briefly entertained the concern that one of them may have been his former commander, but no, a few batarians were no match for Commander Fucking Shepard.

His thoughts were interrupted as an explosion rocked the complex. That's my cue to get moving.

Inside the med bay he found more evidence of conflict. The place had been trashed, with bits of machinery blanketing the ground like fallen snow. Nearby was the body of a fallen doctor, datapad still clutched in hand. He gingerly removed the pad and played the last message.

"It looked like Shepard was waking up for a minute, but I guess it was a false alarm." There was a crash nearby and the woman shrieked, "Not a false alarm! Security!"

Security? What the hell was going on here? With every new bit of information he found, things became even less clear. Had they been holding Shepard here against her will? That was about as futile as trying to hold back the tides. Still, more misgivings stirred in the depths of his gut. Moving deeper into the medical unit, he found a screen still displaying Shepard's medical scans. At least, he assumed they were Shepard's. They were labeled "Shepard", though they looked more like something out of a science fiction vid, or a late 20th century comic book. Nearly every bone in the displayed body was studded with metal reinforcements and plating. Cybernetic wiring laced through the entire nervous system, and the neural scan was lit up with a tangled web of cables encasing the brain. Kaidan shuddered at the sight. She had more wiring than a circuit board. And what was that mass just under the cerebellum? He shook his head. Cerberus. He traced a line with his finger down a plated leg, wondering if the former commander was aware of just how much additional hardware she was carrying. Must weigh a ton.

Collecting himself, he turned his attention to main screen and set about deleting the records. No sense in leaving sensitive data around where any monkey could see it. Though if I don't get moving in time to save this rock there won't be a computer left to hack. He had the presence of mind to download a copy of the data before wiping the computer clean.

More datapads littered the corridors as Alenko made his way deeper into the facility. He scanned each one, hoping for some insight into the recent activities of the base, uncomfortably aware of his narrowing window of time. He must be nearing the control room. A glance out the nearest view-port confirmed they were still on course to slam into the relay. I'm surprised she hadn't managed to redirect this asteroid yet. Though it's just like her to pull through only in the eleventh hour.

The next set of doors let him into a large room lined with blinking machinery that was otherwise devoid of movement. Much more recent signs of combat were in evidence and this time bodies remained behind. Human bodies, all. The ice water in his stomach solidified into a block as he surveyed the carnage. It was becoming increasingly apparent to the commander that batarians had had little to do with the events that had taken place here. He moved to the central console and activated his omni-tool. The screen displayed a familiar set of decreasing digits and he couldn't help but notice that that eleventh hour was well on its way. Also present was the course estimation and all online engines. There were of course no engines on the relay side to slow the asteroid's momentum. Looks like it's time to get creative.

"Computer. Divert power from engines one through seven port-side to thirteen through twenty starboard-side. Try to angle this station away from the relay," he instructed.

"State authorization password."

"Of. Course," he sighed.

"Incorrect password. State authorization password."

"To hell with this," he muttered, switching his attention back to his 'tool.

"Incorrect password. State authorization password."

She kicked the side of the console in frustration. "I'll authorize my boot so far up whatever passes for an ass in that pathetic mess of spaghetti you call circuitry you'll think it's your primary drive, you trumped up, over-sized toaster!"

"Password not recognized," sang the VI, clearly in no way aware of its present danger.

Shepard let out a warning growl. "Alenko. Do your thing before I grind this self-inflated calculator down to its component atoms," she threatened, hand resting menacingly on her assault rifle.

"Yes, Ma'am," he responded hurriedly, glad his opaque visor hid the grin he hadn't quite managed to stifle. A glance at the commander told him he wasn't fooling anyone, but her glower was tempered by the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth. She turned away, leaving him to "do his thing".

Firing up his omni-tool, he gave the computer a cursory sweep. The Virtual Intelligence was nothing special; cheap, civilian-grade and with primitive programming, it wasn't good for much more than asteroid mining. Funny, that. It did, however, have a large amount of encryption. An impressively large amount of encryption. No doubt that part was a recent upgrade. This attack was nothing if not meticulously planned. A short conference with his chronometer informed him he had little under an hour to crack the VI, which would normally be plenty of time, if they didn't have an angry batarian terrorist still to deal with. As it was, they did, so it looked brute force would win out.

"Unauthorized access to powergrid function detected," the VI accused. "Access denied."

"Alright, so you know that trick," he conceded, kneeling beside the computer. "I'd like to see you defend against a physical bypass."

He knelt beside the machine and removed the front panel. The innards hummed merrily, drives twinkling with activity. He examined them speculatively. He could simple cut the power to the console and hope that would disengage the torches, but it was more likely that if the engines lost connection to the VI they would simply continue performing their last commands. Disconnecting the main drive would probably have the same effect. Maybe dumping the flash memory? If he could shut down all engaged programs, he could probably kill whatever was running the torches.

"Take your time, Lieutenant," Shepard remarked dryly.

"I think I've got it, Commander," he replied as he reached in and began bypassing RAM. Don't kill the one running the OS... The interface flickered once before resolving itself while overhead they saw the torch sputter out and felt the rumbling beneath their feet cease.

"I have no idea what black magic you just crafted, but good work, Alenko."

"Just a matter of releasing the right amount of factory smoke, Commander."

As he removed the exterior panel, he let loose a low curse. Someone, in an attempt to prevent just the sort of re-wiring he'd had in mind, had filled the entire interior with quick-setting, high-density liquid packing foam. It would take hours just to dig out. With the air-cooling unit unable to function, the computer would eventually cook itself and shut down, but not before the whole station went hurtling to its doom.

"Computer," he tried desperately, "Who last accessed this console?" If he could hack someone's account instead of trying to brute-force his way past the security, he might have better luck.

"Former Lieutenant Commander Shepard of the Systems Alliance Navy, current operative of the Citadel Council's Special Tactics and Reconnaissance force. Colloquially referred to as the Savior of the Cit-"

"Alright, stop," he interjected before the VI could rattle off her entire service record. He'd have no luck trying to hack her password, she was prone to using random strings of alpha numeric characters, a hold-over from basic training. It was a brilliant tactic, if you could keep them all straight. "Access guest account and give me a status report."

"Project engaged. Current velocity 523 kilometers per second. Safety protocols disengaged. Reactor Core temperature 1,512 Kelvin and stable. Core meltdown aborted," announced the impersonal voice. Meltdown, huh? Three guesses as to who tried to activate that, he thought as he tried once more to access the console. Shepard must have been trying to blow the asteroid before it could collide with the relay. He swore as the VI rebuffed him once more. Her brand of 'covert' always had been light on subtlety and heavy on fireworks. Why Hackett chose her if he wanted things kept quiet I will never understand. He must have been truly desperate.

With an exasperated groan he abandoned his efforts and scrubbed a hand over his face. It would be faster to find the spectre and use her existing account. Why had the admiral asked Shepard? She'd made it clear that she no longer answered to the Alliance. And why would Cerberus let her off her leash? Did they want the research for themselves? No doubt. The thought of the terrorist group in control of a Reaper artifact filled him with cold determination. He'd help Shepard stop this rock, and then he'd rein her in before she could cause any more damage.

She came to face-down in the reactor core of hostile research lab in an enemy system on an asteroid hurtling towards certain destruction. The realization that this was pretty much par for the course provided her with little in the way of comfort or encouragement. One of these days, she thought dazedly, I'm going to bite off more than I can chew. I hope today's not that day. She slowly became aware of the sound of her pilot yelling frantically in her ear.

"Shepard! Shepard, can you hear me?"

"Unnn." Her first attempt to answer was unintelligible even to herself. It might have had something to do with the fact that she was having trouble pulling air into her lungs. It also might have had something to do with the fact that her face was still pressed up against her helmet, which was in turn still pressed up against the floor. Turning her head, she swallowed and tried again. "Un...fortunately."

"Very funny, Commander. Where the hell have you been? I lost your suit's signal and EDI's reading an explosion on the aft side of that base of yours. Are you ok?"

Now that was an excellent question. Her current vantage point, while severely limiting her field of vision, did offer an excellent view of an increasingly large pool of blood. Oh. Not good. Probably mine. The medi-gel function of her armor must not be currently operating; otherwise it would have already administered coagulants to her newly acquired injuries. Maneuvering an arm under herself, she managed to lever up to her side and then flop over onto her back. The parts of her spine that had recently and forcefully connected with the wall behind her made their protests known and her gasp of pain revealed several previously undocumented cracked ribs. When the red receded from her vision, she hazarded a glance down.

"Ah."

It didn't require a technician to see why her suit was no longer working properly. What was left of it. Aside from the usual and familiar liberal spattering of bullet holes, the armor had sustained significant damage from the explosion. Parts had broken away entirely and what was left was a road-map of fractures and dents. The entire lower right side was missing completely, the exposed flesh beneath slick with blood. Huh. Maybe today is that day. The thought brought neither panic nor fear, just an empty sense of resignation and the very faintest feeling of relief.

Grimacing with effort she tried to sit up, but immediately fell back as searing pain enveloped her and her vision blackened. She lay still, eyes clenched shut and breathing shallowly for an ice age before mustering the energy to try again. This time she used her legs to scoot backwards, pushing herself against and then up the wall. She dimly registered Joker's insistent voice in the background.

"Shepard? Answer me! Are you alright?"

Finally managing an upright position, Shepard closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the cool metal with a soft thunk. "N-no. It… doesn't appear that I am." Speaking was becoming problematic. She sucked a painful breath through gritted teeth.

"What the hell does that mean? Look Shepard, you have to get moving. EDI says you've got less than thirty minutes before that rock of yours connects with the relay and none of us want to be around when that happens."

Thirtyminutes? There was no way. No way she was going anywhere, let alone making it to the Normandy. "Joker... listen to me," she panted. "We're out of time. You... have to go. Now. That relay... will take out this whole system."

The pause was so long she began to wonder if she had managed to speak aloud at all. Finally her pilot let out a strangled laugh. "You have a sick sense of humor, Shepard. Now get moving, otherwise I'm sending Vakarian and Taylor in after you. We'll meet you in that rear docking port."

She grit her teeth. "Did you... not hear me? I said go! That's an order."

"Well then it's a good thing I have a well documented history of disobeying stupid ones, as I have zero intention getting you killed again. Once was more than enough. You can make it, you just have to hurry."

She shook her head. Not this time. She wondered idly if the Illusive Man had another four billion credits floating around, maybe in an it's-only-a-matter-of-time-until-she-blows-herself-up reserve account, like her own it's-only-a-matter-of-time-until-one-or-all-of-her-merry-band-of-misfits-will-need-money-for-bail reserve account. This time would probably prove to be more expensive. Maybe he kept a spare Shepard around just in case. Why built one when you can make two at twice the cost...

"EDI... do you read me?"

"Yes, Commander, I read you." The AI's smooth voice interceded over the channel.

"Activate - Emergency Protocol - One-One-Eight-Two," she huffed.

"Activating now. Emergency Manual Override initiated."

"Overi- Shepard, what are you doing?"

Your job, she thought without malice. "- course for the Citadel. Anderson - full report."

"What? No!" A note of desperation crept into the helmsman's tone.

"Course laid in, Commander."

"Damnit Shepard! Don't do this to me-"

"-sorry, Jeff. EDI - go."

"Shepard! Shep-"

She cut the channel, her head feeling oddly light. Blood loss, she diagnosed absently. I'll take exsanguination over asphyxiation any day. Oh, except for this next part... She shut her eyes as the room began to spin. I'm going to faint. The galaxy at stake, Reapers in-bound, cosmic-grade explosions eminent, and Commander Fucking Shepard is going to pass out. This is almost too embarrassing to be real.

He found her in the reactor core, slumped against a wall.

No.

Sprinting the last few yards, he all but collapsed at her side, kneeling in the shrapnel that remained of her hard-suit. Not now. Not after all that. He could see now why she hadn't appeared on his HUD; the suit and all of its vital, life saving functions was clearly offline. There wasn't enough of it left. He fumbled to remove the gloves to his own suit. No. No no no no. Releasing the now useless seals, he carefully removed her blacked helmet. Her head fell forward, face pale and unresponsive. Tentatively he felt her throat, searching for a pulse. When she stirred at his touch he felt his own heart stop.

After their brief and impromptu hiatus his medical instincts kicked back in and he set about administering to her injuries. Noting that a) he didn't have time to muscle the unconscious spectre out of her suit before she bled to death, b) he'd most likely cause further damage in the attempt, and c) enough armor was missing to give him nearly full access to the damaged areas anyway, he decided to forgo removing the shattered plates and instead carefully widened the breach as the brittle material crumbled in his hands. Armor's not supposed to do that. Tearing away the underarmor beneath, he saw that her side had been flayed open and was bleeding freely. Fragments of shrapnel gleamed maliciously in the dim light as if they were well aware that this was neither the time nor the place to remove them. He'd have to seal her up and pray they didn't migrate far. Unbelievable, he thought dazedly. It will never cease to amaze me what this woman can live through.