"For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." –Isaac Newton

Kaidan Alenko was a good soldier. He followed orders, listened to his superiors.

So, when Shepard told him go, that's what he did.

The emergency lights gave his degrading surroundings a foreboding, ominous glow as he ran through what remained of the living quarters to where the escape pods resided. He could hear the screams of terrified crewmates resounding over the blaring alarms, a sound that would haunt his dreams for many months afterwards.

Small explosions and a cacophony of noise threatened to overwhelm him as he assisted those around him into open and waiting pods. Stepping into one of the emptier vessels, he watched a blast knock a slight woman onto the ground. She remained motionless, even as his pod sealed and promptly launched into the depths of space.

Exhaling deeply, he felt the biting adrenaline in his veins ebb as his erratic heartbeat slowed. There were only four others with him in the pod – two were engineers, one was a CIC officer, and the last was a young marine who couldn't be older than twenty-five. All sat in similar states of distress, illuminated by the single feeble light above their heads.

Twisting to look out of the window beside him, he beheld the Normandy, dwarfed by the offending starship. His eyes widened as what appeared to be a large particle beam cut cleanly through the stern, causing a chain reaction of explosions. Panic flitted through him as he saw the beam aim for the bow, where Shepard would likely be getting Joker to evacuate.

Seeing the faint outline of an escape pod move quickly away from the ship just as the Normandy was struck again, Kaidan breathed a small sigh of relief.

She was safe. She was safe.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, an Alliance vessel was there to collect the pods and account for survivors.

Stepping out of his pod, he watched as others emerged, embraced, You're alive, thank God you're alive. A group of doctors were there to tend to the wounded, the burned, the soulless.

There was one more pod, only one more, and he held his breath as Joker emerged. His face was tear-stained, his eyes were red, his arm was unnaturally bent. A doctor moved to help him, but Joker simply pushed him away. Moments passed, and she didn't emerge. Where was she? What was she waiting for?

Impatient, as she had always teased him for being, Kaidan walked over to where Joker sat, sobbing, cradling his head. The lieutenant looked in the pod; it was empty.

Turning to the wounded and tortured pilot, he said, "Where is she?"

"I couldn't…"

"Damn it, Joker! Where is she?" he yelled, feeling his control (what control did he have left?) slipping away.

"She… she's…" Joker couldn't finish his sentence, for he was choking on grief and guilt.

Kaidan fell to his knees, waiting for her to help him up. She didn't come. Tears came to his eyes as cold emptiness filled his entire being. He was being killed slowly by loss, by hollowness, by nothingness. "Where is she, Joker?"

Kaidan Alenko was a good soldier. He followed orders, listened to his superiors.

But maybe, if he had said no when she told him to go, if he had disobeyed, if he hadn't followed orders, she would still be here. Maybe she would be here, with him.

"Where is she?"

To Kaidan Alenko, his new CO, Commander Shepard, was nothing more than a legend. Having never talked or even seen her, she existed only in the stories he had heard of her, the great commander.

She was apparently a very private person, considering that she spent most of her time holed away in her cabin. Though he was naturally curious about his superior, the crewmates Kaidan talked to had only seen brief glimpses of Shepard, keeping her under a veil of ambiguity.

On one of his first nights on the

SSV-Normandy, he felt the beginnings of a migraine creep into his skull. Everyone was likely asleep, though Kaidan lay awake on his cot, grimacing at the pounding pain that continually thrummed behind his eyes. Knowing that any attempts to sleep were futile, he pushed himself out of bed and walked to the mess hall, hoping a glass of Scotch would dull the pain.

The lights were dim due to the night simulation, and the normally bustling hall was still and quiet. Rushing over to the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of Noverian Scotch, damning the glass and taking a long drink from the bottle. The liquid was rich and smooth, burning warmth trailing down his throat. Sighing in relief as the throbbing in his head lessened, he continued to take deep swigs of the spirit as he moved towards the long mess table.

Pulling out a chair and slumping into it, he looked up when a slight movement caught his eye. He nearly fell out of his seat in surprise when he noticed another person sitting across from him, a datapad in her hand. The blue glow from the screen illuminated her face faintly, and he saw that she was smiling at him.

"Hi," she said simply, placing the datapad on the table and leaning forward on her elbows.

Kaidan smiled sheepishly in embarrassment. "I didn't think anyone was up at this hour," he murmured.

"It's the only time I can find any peace and quiet on this damned ship," she snorted, tapping her fingers against the table unconsciously.

"Oh," Kaidan sighed, feeling even more foolish. He began to stand, saying, "Then I'm sorry I bothered you-"

"No, you should stay," she interrupted quickly. "It gets lonely after a while," she said, brushing her short hair out of her eyes. It was too dark to make out what color her hair and eyes were, or even the basic definition of her face, though he could see the outline of her features. When he sat again, she grinned at him coyly. "So, whatcha drinking, soldier?"

"Noverian Scotch," he shrugged, bringing the bottle to his lips again, drinking deeply.

"From the bottle?" she asked incredulously, shaking her head slightly in disbelief. "I guess you've had one hell of a bad day."

"Nah," he said, the effects of the alcohol making him feel relaxed and lulled. "I get really bad migraines because of my L2 implants."

"Oh, you must be Lieutenant Alenko," she said, her eyes brightening in understanding.

"You've heard of me?" he asked skeptically.

"Of course," she said matter-of-factly, not elaborating any further.

He watched her shape shift as she sank into the back of her chair. "What are you drinking?" he asked, motioning to the cup sitting to the right of her hands.

"Tea."

Raising an eyebrow in interest, he teased, "Is it spiked?"

"No," she laughed slightly, sipping from her cup. "I don't drink. Or, I guess I don't anymore."

"I'm sensing a story."

"One I'll never tell," she laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She paused for a moment, looking into her cup thoughtfully. "You know, herbal tea is known to help migraines," she said. "I could make you some."

Taken aback by this strange woman's kindness, he could only mutter, "Okay," before she stood and walked to the kitchen. Returning with a steaming mug, she placed it in front of him and resumed sitting. He thanked her before tentatively tasting the hot liquid, its warmth seeping down into his fingertips.

They sat in amicable silence as he wracked his brain for a common topic. "So, have you met our commander?" he asked suddenly.

Her eyes flickered with some unidentified emotion – possibly amusement? – as she smiled into her own cup. "Once or twice. Why do you ask?"

"I've never met her," he said. "What's she like?"

"Oh, she's a real hardass," she said nonchalantly. "Pretty face, but don't let her fool you."

"For you, I won't," he said, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. She stiffened a bit at his flirtatious tone, though he didn't miss how her smile widened before she hid it in her tea.

He changed the subject quickly, attempting to disperse the awkwardness he felt creep between them. They began to talk about biotics, and then guns, and then family, and then whatever came to mind. Hours passed, and soon the lights began to increase in brightness to indicate dawn. The emerging light illuminated her features and, though it was with a drowsy mind, he still made a mental note of her glossy, short blonde hair, her striking green eyes, and her sweet, soft face.

Kaidan hadn't felt this comfortable with anyone in quite some time; he never wanted to stop talking to this fascinating, warm woman. Sadly, he knew that he would need at least a few hours of sleep to be able to function the next day. With a heavy heart, he told her that he needed to go back to his sleeping pod. She smiled and agreed before standing to make her leave.

As he moved to leave, an abrupt thought struck him. "I never caught your name," he called to her, grabbing her attention.

She had an entertained expression on her face as she looked at him. "My name's Reila Shepard," she said casually, though he did not miss importance of her name as recognition hit him like a blow.

"Commander!" he exclaimed, straightening his spine and saluting her rigidly. A shock of guilt washed through him as her smile fell, and she nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"It was… nice talking to you, lieutenant," she said softly, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips. "Maybe we can do it again sometime."

"Of course, commander," he said firmly. "Goodnight."

She sighed, bringing her hand up to salute him in return. "Goodnight, Alenko."

She was weightless, she was nothing, she was insignificant.

The broken pieces of the Normandy marred her view of the star as she floated, to nowhere, to everywhere. She couldn't breathe, there was no air, but she had never been more alive.

They were safe; everyone she loved was safe. Joker, Garrus, Tali, Wrex, Liara.

Kaidan.

She had never told him she loved him, and that was okay. There was no use worrying about things that couldn't be changed, she decided as her lungs tightened in her chest. It burned, it hurt, but she was alive. She was okay. They were safe.

God, it's so beautiful out here.

A distant planet held her like a treasure, like she was treasured, like she was loved. If she tried hard enough, she could reach out and touch its surface. It was just beneath her fingertips. She wanted to touch. So she did.

You're so beautiful.

She would see Ash soon, she thought as the atmosphere cradled her. She fell, but fire swaddled her, teased her skin, and made pain cease. No more pain. She was a shooting star, immortalized, illuminating, imperfect. She had always been.

Don't forget about me, okay?

Never.