"She's beautiful."

Above Commander Emilia Shepard rose sweeping white lines of metal, broken only by the segments of torpedo tubes, broadside cannons, sensor arrays, and GARDIAN clusters. A silent behemoth, waiting for the touch that would bring her to life. In her line of work, it was easy to lose your awe for the sheer scale of a warship and its destructive power through simple familiarity. But at this moment Shepard felt those dregs stir within her as she leant against the metal railing overlooking the dry dock.

The future Constant was a very big ship, after all.

"I know, right?" said Commander Rita McCormick, voice warm with pride. Shepard felt relief to hear that - to hear anything but grey in her voice. Ever since the SSV Trenton had shattered above Tayseri Ward, Rita had walked around like a ghost, pale and not all there. "It's not another command of my own, but an XO slot on the Alliance's first battle cruiser? Not a bad consolation prize."

What happened to the Trenton is not your fault, Shepard thought, but didn't say. She could say that until she went hoarse, but it wouldn't staunch the bleeding hidden under the other officer's pale, crisp uniform. Learning to believe that down in your bones didn't happen with a snap of the fingers. You just had to put on the uniform in the morning and take those steps when you felt like falling.

Instead, she clasped her hands behind her back, staring up at the ship, the conversation from the crowd behind them buzzing in her ears. "The post will look good when it's time for you to take a cruiser command. I doubt Captain Ling would have selected you personally if your career was over - or out of pity."

"No, that man is going to run me ragged," Rita said with satisfaction. Then she smiled with a grim shadow of amusement. "You do always seem to know what to say."

She was a beautiful woman, with those clear green eyes and soft blond curls, but any fire for her had sputtered out in Emilia Shepard's chest long ago, leaving only a soft sadness for what they'd done to each other those years ago.

"It's a talent," Shepard said dryly. And not one Rita had always appreciated.

Rita's eyes slid sideways, towards the crowd, and she smiled wryly. "I think one of your crew wants to rescue you from me."

Shepard chuckled despite herself, glancing up, then swallowing.

Ashley.

She looked good. Really good. The rack of new ribbons a splash of colour against the dark enough to almost be black jacket. A light in her eyes, like when Shepard had almost pushed her out the door of her house on Benning, telling her that if she stayed any longer they'd end up back in bed and she'd miss her flight to Amaterasu. But she looked almost - recharged. As if being around her family had filled her with the energy the war had drained from her.

The silver bars of a First Lieutenant glinted at her throat. In a perfect galaxy, maybe those two little bars would represent the breaking down of a barrier between them, not a construction of yet another one - but that was how it was. Shepard supposed she was lucky that Ashley was a sniper and she was special forces. Patience was a cultivated talent.

"Good afternoon, ma'am." Ashley saluted, and both Commanders returned it.

"Lieutenant Williams," Shepard said with a small smile, warmth hidden in the corners of her mouth. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too, skipper. And you, Commander McCormick. Nice to see you on your feet, ma'am."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. If you'll excuse me, Commander Shepard, Lieutenant Williams, I should find my Captain." Rita glanced at her omnitool. "The ceremony will be starting soon, and I should be on the bridge."

"Of course, Rita. See you later," Shepard murmured. When her ex-wife was gone, she turned to Ashley.

"Man that's still a bit weird," the Marine muttered.

Shepard just smiled. "How're the ribs?"

Ashley stretched, showing off her range of movement with a glint in her eyes. "All better."

Tease. "Good."

"Capt- Commodore Anderson sent me to get you, skipper. He wants you to meet a couple of people."

Shepard waved a hand. "Lead on then."

"This way."

"How was your leave?" Shepard kept her smirk to a small quirk of her lips.

Amusement glittered in whiskey-brown eyes. "Oh, you know. Saw my family. Spent some time lazing around."

Shepard raised an eyebrow and lowered her voice. "I'm not sure I'd call it lazing."

Ashley laughed, bumping their shoulders together.

Their boots rang on the metal deck as they fell into lockstep. The crowd seethed with a mixture of politicians, military personnel and civilians. A launch ceremony was always a big event on Arcturus Station - especially for this ship. The Alliance's first battle cruiser, named after the city that had burnt to begin the war.

The city Ash had been stationed.

She glanced at the other Marine. Ashley was a passionate woman - all fire - but underneath the blunt honesty and biting sarcasm was a sharp mind - and the heavy weight of her own history. Shepard knew what it was like to drag ghosts with you wherever you went, and Ashley's were likely to be loud today.

"How are you feeling?" she asked lowly.

Ashley shrugged, a flicker of something sharp-edged and resigned flashing across her face. "Brings shit up, but you know. One step at a time."

Putting a bullet in Saren's head might've helped, but it wouldn't bring back the men and women of the 2/12. Shepard settled for squeezing her shoulder, then clasped her hands again to resist the urge to hug her or grab her hand instead. This was the hand they'd been dealt, and they had to play it right. The Alliance was in both of them like blue ran in their blood. One of them quitting wasn't an option.

Ashley smiled at her, half-heartedly. "I'll be okay, skipper."

"One step at a time," Shepard repeated.

Up ahead, she saw an unmoving knot of people in the sea of uniforms and suits and smiled. A man and a woman in dress whites and a man in a suit. Lieutenant Commander Charles Pressly, Command Master Chief Monica Negulesco, and Commodore David Anderson, visiting from the Citadel. Her people.

Salutes and pleasantries were exchanged. Stories of leave fluttered around. Pressly had visited his son, now in university. Negulesco had taken her children to see her family in Romania.

Anderson was still settling into his role as the Alliance military attache to the Council aboard the chaotic Citadel, reeling from the damage inflicted by the battle. He settled his steely gaze on Shepard. "I want you to know that every time I have to deal with a disagreement with Udina or demands for more Alliance troops, I think 'damn you Shepard, I could be on a warship bridge right now.'"

She smiled at her old friend and mentor. "And every time I have to deal with the media or the Council, I think 'damn you Anderson, I could be leading a N7 team in perfect obscurity right now.'"

After a moment he chuckled, shaking his head. "Guess I opened myself up for this, huh?"

"You'll be fine, sir. I'm sure they'll have people to help the Marine read and make sure any holos of you enjoying a crayon don't leak to the press."

In truth, there were a lot of things she'd done during the Eden Prime War and the hunt for Saren that she questioned. Anderson's new role meant that he'd spend most of his time dealing with politics; but the best she could hope for with Councillor Udina was a mutual agreement to stay out of each other's way. Even if Anderson would prefer to be commanding a frigate or a cruiser, she needed someone on the Citadel who believed in her. Who would help her get some room to maneuver.

She wasn't sure what that said about her.

"I'm surprised Admiral Hackett isn't here," observed Pressly, adjusting his uniform jacket.

"I'm not, sir," said Negulesco. "I imagine taking over as Chief of the Defence Force is one hell of a transition, and his promotion was only confirmed by Parliament two days ago."

"I'm glad it's him replacing General Hu," Ashley shrugged. "At least we know he knows, you know?"

Shepard snorted, "Sure, whatever that means."

Ashley bumped her shoulder. "You know what I mean."

Shepard fought off her rising smile. She'd forgotten how it felt. Falling in love with someone. "Who did you want me to meet, sir?"

Anderson scratched his jaw, clean-shaven and hair cut to military regulation despite the allowances made for Special Operations Officers. "The Minister of Defence and Prime Minister are both here and would like to speak to you at some point."

"Shit, I forgot to vote in the election," Negulesco whispered to Pressly, who shrugged.

"There was an election?"

Shepard grimaced. "You know how well I do with politicians, Anderson."

"As well as I do," he said in the pleasant tone that made her wince in memory of his personal brand of N7 training. "And now I get to deal with Udina every day. You'll survive."

"At least you got to punch Udina," Shepard muttered. Ashley grinned.

"Shepard," Anderson said very seriously, "if you punch either Prime Minister Shastri or Minister Godfrey I will personally throw you out the nearest airlock."

She sighed. "Noted, sir."

"They said they'll speak to you after the ceremony, before the party. I see you didn't bring any of your non-human crew? The Prime Minister will be disappointed."

"Vakarian has gone back to CSec and Urdnot Wrex to Tuchanka," she explained. She still sometimes walked down into the garage expecting to see them. "Tali'Zorah and Doctor T'Soni are both still with us, but were unable to attend tonight."

Tali was still recovering from the beating she'd taken in the Battle of the Citadel under Doctor Chakwas' watchful eye. Liara didn't really have anywhere to go, and if they were going to work this Reaper problem out she'd be needed anyway, but she was trying to sort out a problem with her mother's estate.

"Good afternoon esteemed guests. The ceremony will begin in ten minutes," the loudspeaker interrupted.

They pressed their way through the crowd to a platform that rose above the mass of people, right beside the ship's bow.

"Commodore Anderson." A soft-spoken woman waited there, clutching a champagne bottle.

"Commander, this is the ship's sponsor, Mayor Ana Kuznetzova from the city of Constant. She's representing the people of Eden Prime here today. Mayor Kuznetzova, this is Commander Emilia Shepard of the Normandy."

"It's an honour to meet you, Commander. I understand you disarmed the bomb that would've destroyed half of my city."

Shepard shook her hand, uncomfortable with the flickers of hero worship in those sad blue eyes. She'd only ever tried to do her duty. "I mostly provided fire support, ma'am. Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko did the defusing."

"I'd love to meet him."

Shepard flinched. Beside her she could feel Ashley stiffen, jaw clenched.

"I'm afraid Lieutenant Alenko was killed during the war." Anderson's voice was as gentle as the hand he placed on Shepard's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Commander." Kuznetzova seemed almost fragile. Like if you laid a hand upon her, her skin would crack like eggshell thin porcelain.

"It's alright. I can give you his parents' contact information if you'd like, ma'am. They could tell you all about him."

She paused and then nodded, "Perhaps…I could tell them. About what he saved?"

"I'm sure that would bring them some comfort, ma'am. Kaidan was a…" She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "A man of great compassion and bravery."

"It's time!" someone called. Shepard drew herself up into attention, forcing away the still raw grief, and raised her gloved hand in salute in concert with the other military personnel surrounding the ship.

Kuznetzova raised her tattered ribbon of a voice. "I name thee Constant! May this ship and all that serve aboard her always return to harbour."

The bottle of champagne smashed against the thick plates of white and blue armour, foam cascading down Constant's side and splashing Kuznetzova's shoulder and arm. Then the cavernous dock flooded with the roar of thrusters coming to life, docking apparatus pulling away, as the Constant came under her own power for the first time and slid slowly and then with more speed out of the drydock and into the dark of space.

Shepard watched the battlecruiser wheel slowly against a backdrop of stars with the flare of thrusters, bracketed by tugs assisting her to manoeuvre so close to Arcturus, and all she could hear was the roar of the crowd mixing with appropriately patriotic music.

For much of her career, it had been an unspoken understanding between Commander Emilia Shepard and her superiors that although she had the utmost respect for 'the proper subordination of a competent, professional military' to civilian control, it was best for all involved if she and that civilian authority remained far apart. Ideally, as far apart as the fringes of the Traverse and Arcturus. There were military veterans who could navigate that world - make that transition in search of service after the rifle had been laid down like her grandmother had - but she wasn't one of them.

Sometimes she wondered if the reason she'd been sent to the Operator Course to become an N7 was really because of Anderson's influence or whether they'd really just wanted to get her off Arcturus before she drank her way through the entirety of its liquor stocks and punched a Senator's son.

In either event, beyond the medal ceremony where she'd received her Star of Terra and the odd function to which she'd been invited by a politician, Shepard had determinedly stayed on the fringes of Alliance political life. As far as she was concerned, the Star of Terra simply meant that she was good at shooting things - not that she had any answers to give on other topics.

But that understanding, like her command of a N7 troop, had become a casualty of her Spectre status and the political realities surrounding that.

Shepard tugged her uniform irritably straight - only to have her hands slapped away by a scowling Anderson, who had only just finished his reminder that he'd personally airlock her if she punched anyone during the Prime Minister's party.

"Leave it. You'll crinkle it."

"You've dealt with the Council and Udina, ma'am," Pressly pointed out, dangerously close to amused at her expense.

"Shastri's not that bad," Anderson said, crossing his arms. His chest was a riot of colour - ribbons cascading down the white of his uniform. She wondered how his jacket hadn't ripped. "He believes Hackett, and Hackett believes you."

She shifted on her feet, shiny boots clicking on the floor. Was it marble? God. The Prime Minister's home on Arcturus Station was something else. She was a woman of dirt and rock and ozone. The pomp itched. "Yessir."

A smartly dressed young man approached, smiling so brightly it was almost painful to look at him. "Commander Shepard? The Prime Minister will see you now."

"I'll see you at the party," Anderson said and then hissed under his breath, "Behave."

She was pretty sure she ought to be offended by that. She was perfectly capable of restraint.

"Lead the way.," she told the aide, and he led her down a corridor and into a lavishly appointed office, all creams and leathers and teak. The man behind the desk was almost overshadowed by his surroundings - but she had a feeling that most of those who underestimated Prime Minister Amul Shastri lived to regret it.

"Sir." She drew herself up and saluted sharply. She remembered, with a pang, Kaidan's advice eight months ago. Salute anything you can't eat or kill. A Marine's philosophy.

Shastri didn't return the salute, but he did extend a hand to shake hers firmly. "Please take a seat, Commander. Thank you for coming."

"I ought to be thanking you, Mr Prime Minister. I'm told you had a hand in the decision not to press charges in regards to my mutiny." It was something that sat uneasily with her - she'd never really believed in political interference in military operations. That's what had happened after Torfan. Any consequences for those involved had been swept aside.

He folded his hands together on top of his desk as she took a seat. "I'd say you should consider it thanks for ensuring we even had an election for me to be elected during, but the truth is that it was simple expediency. It would have been very unpopular with the public and would bring up questions about the legality of the impounding order to begin with. A diplomatic incident with our fellow Council members would look bad, no? Either you or Udina would have to take the fall for it."

"As it is, you get to keep both of us in public service," she surmised.

He smiled and tilted his head. "Just so. I hope you understand that we want to keep the circumstances about your incursion on Ilos quiet from the press."

Shepard suppressed a sardonic smile. "Of course, sir."

"The political situation at the moment is quite delicate. Admiral Hackett and Commodore Anderson are both very adamant that though the war is over, we can't cut back on military spending. I believe you agree with them."

Shepard nodded firmly. "I do, sir. We lost a third of the Fifth Fleet in the Battle of the Citadel and tens of thousands of personnel over the length of the war. To even hope of defending ourselves against the batarians, we need to keep hull production and recruitment high. And if we're to fulfil our new obligations as a Council member state, we'll need more."

Shastri studied her with sharp brown eyes for a long moment and then he leaned back in his chair. "The three of you are right, of course. Not that that makes it any more popular with my own party. Which brings me to the crux of why I asked you to come here today, Spectre Shepard: your next mission."

"With all due respect," she said, cautious, "I have my mission. The Reapers - that's the biggest threat out there, and with the Cipher I can interpret the information the Protheans left to us."

"Of course," he said so readily she suspected it wasn't at all going to be as easy as that. "But the fact remains that your commission and command of the Normandy - these were exceptions due to the war. Spectres normally resign any other occupations they may have."

Anxiety flared in her chest, shoving her heart against her ribs. They couldn't take the Normandy from her, force her to resign the career she'd dedicated her life to. Taking away her command - leaving her on her own? They might as well cut her arms and legs off. "I understand that, Mr Prime Minister. But in all honesty, I am a military officer. That's what I'm good at. My ship, my people, those are my weapons of choice more than my guns or my amp."

His gaze was unsettling. The silence clawed under her skin, and it took all her self-control to keep herself sitting straight and still.

"The current intent of this government is for Admiral Hackett and Councillor to establish task forces where they see fit to prepare our nation for the possibility of further conflict with the Reapers."

It's not a possibility. It's a certainty. Sovereign had spoken of it like one would the inevitability of time passing.

"Under the purview of Commodore Anderson and Councillor Udina, you will retain your commission and command and be charged with discharging your duties as you see fit to prepare. I hope you understand that the continued detachment of the Normandy was not something the Navy considered lightly. I had several angry memos from Admiral Mikhailovich." He smiled as if this was some big joke.

Shepard returned it woodenly, warring between relief that her ship and crew weren't being taken away and the sensation that she'd become a piece on Shastri and Hackett's chess board. She'd always been a weapon, a tool, for her government and then the Council, but God, she longed for the days where her loyalty wasn't questioned, and no one tried to pull her strings. She just wanted someone to say 'we need this accomplished' and let her do it!

"Whether or not you like it, Commander," Shastri continued, "you're a symbol to many in the Alliance and across Council space. What you discovered on Ilos may be vitally important - we've already sent a taskforce to the planet. Hackett says that was your idea."

"Yessir. The VI there, Vigil, may have evidence we need to prepare."

"Once your ship is ready, I'd like you to go to Ilos and retrieve Vigil. You will return it to the labs here on Arcturus, and we'll see if we can get what we need out of it."

"Yessir."

"That was all, Commander. I'll see you later tonight, at the function."

Emilia Shepard left the Prime Minister's office feeling like she'd been in a bar fight - one she'd come off second best in.

Shepard's hand was going to fall off, with all the handshaking she'd done since they'd arrived on Arcturus Station.

She sipped at her champagne, wishing for whiskey, and glanced around the hall. There were flashes of bright colour, of the flowing dresses that were currently the fashion, contrasted with the somber black and greys of the suits worn by others. Shepard and her crew stood out in their blues and whites; only a handful of other military personnel were present, and all of those had stars on their shoulders.

Their otherness seemed to attract the butterflies of Society like nectar. Shepard felt out of place, a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. The Traverse was her place, the Normandy her home, its crew her people. She felt stuck, chained by a parade of interviews, ceremonies and social events. With her ship in dry dock and not all of her crew yet back from leave after the Battle of the Citadel, she felt like a bird with clipped wings.

Is this why her mother had always returned to space? Never settled even when she remarried? This itching desire to back in space, back at the controls of a spacecraft? Maybe it was the same thing for Hannah as it was for her - volunteering for yet another tour and not being quite sure if you were running to something or away from it.

Hannah Shepard would likely tell her this was a duty - embrace the suck - and Emilia would reply that she was being hypocritical, considering how studiously Shepard Senior had avoided flag rank until Hackett had practically held her down to pin on the commodore stars.

She looked over the rim of her glass to see that Lance Corporal Jaz Teke had been accosted by Aisha Ashland of all people and had to hide her grin behind her hand. The tall, lean Marine seemed torn between terror and being flattered at the attention. The tribulations of the dance floor were a world apart from the difficulties her crew had faced over the course of a hard tour.

Kaidan. Akmed. Richard. Nick.

Another four to join the litany.

Damn, but she wished Alenko was here. He had an understated humour and an earnestness that endeared him to others, even politicians.

"Commander!"

Apparently, her well-earned slice of solitude was over. She straightened, draining the last of her champagne. "Sir."

Major General Akinari Kahoku extended a hand, and despite her dislike of parties with the sole purpose of being seen, she smiled and returned the firm handshake. She'd never worked for Kahoku before, but she'd heard good things. He was the commanding general of the Second Marine Division, which was currently in the process of deploying to the Traverse, and by all accounts, he was good to his Marines.

"Good to see you, Commander. Hell of a thing you pulled off."

"So people keep saying, sir." She smiled with a hint of bitterness. "When they're not blaming me for all those destroyed Alliance ships."

Kahoku shook his head slightly. "Forget them. It's easy to second-guess the hard decisions once the crisis is over, but you and I both know that sometimes there are no good or right choices in war. And for what it's worth, I know that Steven would never have asked you to make it if he thought you'd be wrong."

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Shepard did wish Hackett had just made the call, given her an order. Maybe it would be easier to live with then. But in the end, no matter whose voice had said the words it was always going to be her hands on the console.

"Thank you, sir." And she meant that too.

"Have you met the Minister for Defence yet?"

"Uh, no, sir."

"Come with me then, Commander. I think you'll like her. If a civvie can understand what we need with the war over, it's Leigh Godfrey." He guided her through the crowd with the lightest touch to her elbow, dodging politicians with practiced ease.

Shepard had had to negotiate politics before the Eden Prime War, of course, the military being more full of it than anyone would like to admit - but it had never particularly been her strong point. She saw what had to be done and she did it. She envisioned point A and point B, and the most efficient line between them.

It was something she'd have to work on when she made stars. That's what her grandmother had always said. You can't avoid the Big Navy forever, Junior.

...If she did ever make flag rank. That had always been the plan - Rear Admiral and a post in SASOC, when she was too old to fight for shit. But her conversation with the Prime Minister cast that ambition in doubt.

In any case, it was always good to cultivate mentors. Hopefully Kahoku, would be open to that since Anderson and Hackett were much beyond her normal reach these days.

"Minister Godfrey?" Kahoku called.

Leigh Godfrey turned from her conversation with an apologetic smile. Her eyes, when they met Shepard's, were clear and sharp as glass. "Commander Shepard, I've been waiting to meet you for some time. Thanks for showing her over, Akinari."

Her handshake was firm and brisk.

"No problem," the general replied. "I thought it was a good enough opportunity."

"How does it feel to be the hero of the hour?"

Shepard shrugged uncomfortably. "Frankly, Ms Godfrey, I'm just looking forward to getting back to work. There's a lot to do."

Godfrey tilted her head, coiffed blond hair and cool intelligence. "I would've thought you'd be used to it already, Commander, given that you've already received the Star of Terra, after that mess on Elysium."

Shepard rubbed the back of her neck. "I, uh, took the medal and ran right to ICT, to be honest."

And not soon after, right into Akuze. She didn't want to think about that now, though, disturb that lurking black rage that seethed and twisted in her stomach. It wasn't an accident! It was murder, Shepard! They murdered them and they tortured me!

At least during the hunt for Saren, there'd been something to remain focused on.

The Minister chuckled. "We'll find something for you to do soon enough, I promise. I hope Amul came to you with my suggestion to keep you in command of the Normandy."

She blinked in surprise. "Yes, ma'am, he did. Thanks."

Godfrey waved a hand, gold flashing on her finger. "Don't worry about it. Forcing you out and waving our dicks around over the Normandy like Mikhailovich would have us do gains us nothing."

Shepard blinked. Beside her, Kahoku made a sound suspiciously close to laughter.

"Still, thanks."

"Just remember, you have friends on Arcturus Station. I think we both want the same thing." Godfrey handed both officers another glass from a nearby tray. "To making peace where we can, and fighting where we must."

Shepard raised her glass.

" - and he says to me: 'Gema, you love the Navy more than you love me' and you know what? He was right. Why have a boring marriage on Demeter when you could be firing two hundred metre cannons!" Lieutenant Wulandri gestured expansively at Lieutenant Adams - very nearly knocking over the chief engineer's mug. He calmly moved it out of her way.

"You get used to her," Ashley told the newest member of the Normandy's command team, sipping from her own coffee.

"I've read the reports. It's clear she - and all of you - are good at your jobs," remarked Lieutenant Commander Nilsson. He was a tall, slight man in his early forties, with a hint of salt in his hair and calm, measuring eyes. He was also the Normandy's new navigator. Shepard had been almost reluctant to take on a new nav, with how Pressly understood Joker's particular foibles, but everyone knew that the way they'd been running the Normandy wasn't sustainable in the long run. The Normandy would soon be close to full strength, crew wise.

"We try to be."

The door of the briefing room slid open, and they all rose as Commander Shepard entered, briefcase in hand. "Take a seat, everyone. I hope everyone's introduced themselves to Lieutenant Commander Nilsson." When they all nodded, she took her own seat. "Good. I just spoke with Admiral Hackett, and we have a new mission as soon as we've loaded crew and cargo. I would like to get going within the next forty-eight hours."

"Ma'am," Ash spoke up - and God, she was still getting used to this whole officer deal. She still looked around half the time for the officer when someone saluted her. "MARSOC is still organising reinforcements for the Marine Detachment. Those Marines won't be able to get here in time."

"We'll have to pick them up when we get back," Shepard replied with a hint of apology. "It should be a quick pick up and drop off, but you know how these things go, and it is time sensitive."

Ash shrugged. "If we could handle Saren with the Marines I've got, we can deal with this too."

"Good to hear. Adams, how's the ship looking?"

"We finished the pressure testing this morning. BuShips did a good job - she's in fighting shape. They even replaced the sensor nodules we were having issues with. My guys are still working on the last checklists with Tali's help, but unless something important breaks I believe we'll be done by 12:00 tomorrow."

"Good to hear. Anything from the rest of you?"

"They still won't give me a tac nuke," Wulandri said irritably. Ash flinched despite herself. They'd lost too much the last time they'd used a nuclear weapon. Her best friend.

"I'll talk to Hackett," Shepard promised. "Alright. Most of us remember Ilos. A joint scientific expedition has gone to the planet - very quietly, since it's within the Terminus. Unfortunately, the power in the facility finally went out, but they're hopeful we can salvage a lot of information and technology. We're being sent to pick up an old friend. Vigil turned itself off, but we're going to bring it back here and see if our scientists can turn it back on."

"Let's hope this goes better than the last time we went on a so-called milk run to pick up a Prothean artifact," muttered Pressly.

"The powers that be want this done quickly and quietly. I want everyone focused on getting us the hell out of dodge."