Disclaimer - Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, Mass Effect 3 is not my property, but is the property of Bioware and the writers who created them. It is not the intention of this fan fiction author to participate in financial gain through this story. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN - What am I doing.

Tuchanka

Her eyes fluttered open, recognizing the hollow ceiling of her tent while her mind tried to separate itself from dream and reality. This one had been... too real, she thought while her hand trailed along her side, still feeling the ache of the dream's injuries – even the burn from the ancient weapon left a ghostly ache on her forehead. She reached for it, her fingers tracing the shape perfectly and she sighed, she hadn't had these episodes in a long time...

"Up, recruits - the sun isn't going to wait for your squishy asses."

She turned her head towards the gruff voice - the heavy footsteps made her pause, a trickle of memory threatened to swallow her whole again but she pushed it away. This damned planet had been havoc on her sanity; the suppression of her dreams had been failing miserably and the old soul that was buried deep inside her was surfacing like a stubborn mule.

She was losing herself, her identity was being eaten away by something she had no control over day by day.

Her mother had been right, not that she'd ever admit it. The young woman shook her head, crawling out of the sleeping bag and pulled on her combat boots, her mind wandering over her situation. These... dreams? She frowned, not sure what to really call them, had started when she was three – wrinkles of thoughts of another person, another life. Her mother had thought it cute at first, thinking they were just imaginary friends she spoke of – but then... her dreams had turned into nightmares of dark creatures that ruled every corner of the galaxy.

She chewed the inside of her lip, standing up to put on her armour, flicking the dirt out of the clasps, inspecting it closely before sliding the first piece in place.

At the tender age of seven, she became aware that maybe her dreams weren't dreams at all, it was an odd sensation to realise at that young of an age that there was two of you struggling for dominance inside of yourself. It became really apparent when her family had visited Earth the first time; a lot of strange things had happened to her.

They had toured the ancient battle grounds of London where The Conduit still stood, a monument to the Armada's final stance and won against impossible odds. The old Citadel's rubble still lingered around the city, a graveyard to the Reaper's largest Mass Relay - no one dared to move them three hundred years later. Amongst the decaying rubble, here was a huge monument set in the middle of the quiet conduit, names flickered across its smooth surface - the very first one always made her feel at odds with herself but that very first time she saw it as a child, it threw everything into chaos.

Lt. Cmd. Jane Shepard - 2187 Earth, System Alliance, First Human Specter

It was so... plain. So simple and lackluster to read but it was dwarfed by Shepard's hologram. It illuminated the whole area, her arm drawn into a perfect salute that honoured the dead soldiers for the last three hundred years since the destruction of life as they knew it.

She had pulled on her mother's sleeve, pointing at the woman that seemed familiar to her and announced quite loudly, which mortified her entire family, that Liara had taken that holo of the Commander a few nights before the final confrontation. Her father's brows had furrowed, her brother had snorted and her mother had blinked in confusion. Taking their silence as encouraging, the memory flooded her small mind and she spoke quickly, every detail she could remember spilled from her mouth, like a hungry ghost.

"The stars glittered, you know, around the captain's cabin – Dr. T'Soni asked what Shepard wanted to be remembered as and she said "Tell them the truth, don't make me something surreal." She didn't see her mother's wide eyes, the panic rising in her body language.

No, she didn't see any of that.

She had to get the memory out, the other soul inside her was restless, almost screaming. She wanted to tell them that Liara had made this to warn the future generations of the Reapers but her mother had clamped her hand over her mouth and hushed her, smiling awkwardly at the people watching the small child telling stories of Commander Shepard.

Her mother had given her The Look – disappointed in her active imagination and telling lies, despite the fact the small red headed child adamantly told her mother she wasn't lying, even describing the cabin right down to the scratches on the floor before they even visited the replica of the Normandy.

No one believed her. No one.

She stopped telling her mother stories when she was eight when she realised it frightened the elder woman; especially when she turned 12 and joined the cadets on her colony. It impressed her superiors that she could name off every gun she came across and her small nimble fingers could disassemble and re-assemble a carniflex in less than 30 seconds but it terrified her mother.

Pride of the Navy cadets on her colony but her family watched her wearily every day, suddenly not sure if they knew her anymore. She felt alienated, alone. She was losing herself in the memories more and more every day but she didn't dare say anything.

She loved her family and she understood that there were just certain things you didn't share with anyone if you wanted to seem normal. It was a hard and painful lesson to learn but things soon became normal again once she decided to just shut up and keep all the dreams and memories to herself.

Her mother was smiling once more, her embrace comforting and soft but then... fate had a different idea. Her family was taken away from her at sixteen, a fire – electrical of sorts – had burned through their home while Jane had been away with her class on an overnight trip on Earth.

It was the same day, even the same moment in time, when she looked up at that same hologram of Shepard from her childhood, still saluting the ghosts of the past and standing guard over the dead conduit, in that moment she realised that they looked exactly the same – right down to the littlest freckle.

Her mind had shaken, the memories wept and the whole scene before her turned from peaceful to darkness - a moonless sky hovered above ancient rubble, husks crawled out of the darkness of broken buildings and Reapers loomed around it. There was a sound only she could hear, her body paralysed under Harbringer's voice. She could feel the other soul inside her shake, chills crawled down the ghostly spine. The memory seeped out of control and for a moment, she could feel her body scream in exhaustion, starving for rest as the team around Shepard pushed towards the bright light cutting through the sky – the ancient citadel.

Ghost - memories of the true history of the war as seen through Shepard's eyes playing in my mind.

All ghosts of a past she did not witness but her soul had imprinted itself with it and she screamed in horror, clawing at the hands that tried to shake her out of her trance – the husks screamed, their hollow eyes piercing as the bright light of the conduit exploded before her memory. Her skin felt on fire, the ghost of her armour bit and melted against the flesh, her ears rang loudly and in her mind's memory she saw ... death. Destruction surrounding the Commander. She could feel the despair when her eyes found a lover lay not four feet away, motionless. Despite the crushing despair she felt, the determined commander rose up alone on the field and limped towards the final destination.

The sky.

The Crucible.

Her death.

Her heart broke – both in the past and in the present and reality struck the girl like a hand across the face – she was Shepard's broken and shattered reincarnation, trapped in the cycle of battle harden memories.

The recruit shook her head, clearing the memories as she rolled her sleeping bag, stuffed it inside her pack and stepped outside. The dust swirled around her feet as she walked around the tent, pressing the buttons to make it collapse. She wondered how much longer she would have to struggle against the onslaught of memories that didn't belong to her but a past life that she could not shut away. Her bones still felt the hollow ache of battle; her muscles were exhausted from the dream's imprint.

Frustration reared its ugly head as memories taunted her, a lover that never had touched her – kisses fluttered like ghosts all over her skin and she bitterly shoved the sensation away. She couldn't help but wonder just how much the commander had sacrificed all those years ago to ensure the Galaxy would never suffer through a cleansing again.

We will shape our own fate.

The words rolled in her mouth, still tasting the bitterness of old forgotten wounds.

It was more than just her life she had lost – it was the promise of peace she struggled to find and attain in the war against the reapers, a promise with her lover that was ripped from under her feet not once but twice. Death had swept him away before taking her.

And now... now she was reincarnated into this body and still Shepard suffered looking for him. She knew, after that last dream that this was the commander's final wish. Death had taken her body but the soul still searched desperately and she felt the weight of such a loss press against her mind.

Some days she thought she might go crazy battling the stubborn soul that needed to touch him, needed to find home but she didn't know who to look for or if the man had even reincarnated in the same lifetime. There was no record of Shepard's lover – truth had turned into legends and legends into myths.

There were rumours of an Asari, a biotic human and even a turian having shared her bed but that's all there was to it, no names – everything was forgotten to the dust of history, three hundred years was a long time and her memories didn't reveal anything that would make things easier.

She had seen him once, twice maybe, in her dreams but it was immediately forgotten when she was hurled back to the present. Only the sensation of his touch lingered and tortured her. She staggered momentarily, her step uneven as she adjusted her thoughts to the present and finished putting away her things. Pulling the back pack on, she marched quickly to the others who were silently falling in line.

The Krogan watched her, she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the next, but she ignored it. He shouted for the small team to follow him and he warned that this was the last time they would rest a full night.

"We're entering Thresher Maw territory," she could almost hear the grin spreading across the sharp teeth, "I can't guarantee we'll live on foot. There hasn't been a single person that's killed a maw with a hand gun since my time..." his gruff voice was swept by the wind, her mind tickled again. She frowned, pushing it away. She couldn't afford to fall apart to another memory.

Her body moved mechanically, the old soldier insider her taking over a routine she'd grown familiar with through the morning drills. She had decided at 18 to stop fighting the old Spectre inside her and allowed herself to be surrounded in familiar things that the soul could resonate to– the military, particularly the Navy and space travelling. Maybe... it would trigger the needed memory to find him.

She smirked under her helmet, knowing that the thrill of blood lust was as sharp in her as it was in the commander in the past while on the dirt side of OPS, she discovered more of her old self this way and she was becoming borderline obsessed with uncovering everything her mind would allow.

She had spent all her spare time reading up on the Hero of the Galaxy, her crew and her adventures. The most jarring experience so far in her quest to resurrect her inner commander had been this planet. Her expectations had been dashed – the world her body remembered had been rebuilt, her memories were misaligned and it disturbed the old soul that resided in her.

Days mingled into nights, the team pushed hard through the wilderness of Tuchanka - the Krogan was still watching her and she had yet to hear his name. She was having trouble focusing in the last few hours. The sun was too hot and her suit's environmental had malfunctioned. Sweat slicked down her temples and her mouth was too dry. Her mind's memories wandered over rubble that no longer existed and when they finally arrived in one particular area, she reacted strangely.

They hadn't slept in four days. They had run out of food as part of their training and she was one of the few that had yet to crumble under the pressure, but, it was coming to an end, though, and rather spectacularly.