A quick note: This chapter was not written in chronological order, but in order of Shepard's memories that provided insights that contributed to her response to Kaidan's letter and the build up before her final confrontation with the Collectors in Mass Effect 2. For those that are musically inclined, the song that came to mind and provided a lot of inspiration as I wrote this chapter was Loreena McKennitt's "Penelope's Song."

After an eternity, Shepard tore her gaze away from the computer screen, and sunk her face into her palms, the sentences were still flashing before her even as she rubbed her tired eyes.

She had started her response mere seconds after reading Kaidan's letter which had come on the heels of the Normandy's second mission on Illium. The first had been the easiest to write. Fueled by anger and betrayal, she hammered on the keyboard, the words spewing onto the screen like poison gushing from a festered wound. It took every last ounce of discipline and self-control she had to avoid the "send" option and save it as a first draft. Upon returning from the mission to save Miranda's sister, she was glad of it. Shepard reread her letter and barely recognized her own words.

The Shepard who wrote them was not the person she wanted to be. She could hear voice of an angry and hurt self-entitled teenager trying to deal with inexplicable loss—a voice she had thought she had silenced once and for all a year-and-a-half after her parents were killed only to have it rear its complaint four years later, when she nearly made the worst mistake of her life. After that, she thought that the N training program marked a new milestone, one without the old ugly baggage that came with her past. But now she could see that she had deceived herself. Though on the surface she physically and psychologically stronger, the sad and hurt Shepard was always there, lurking underneath coming up only when she could see herself mirrored in others.

This final draft had taken months to write; each sentence purchased with insight obtained from missions undertaken on behalf of each new crewmember. After seeing the heartache and disappointment that both Jacob and Miranda experienced with each of the respective members of her family, she had to admit that although her childhood was short-lived, it was albeit comparatively happy.

Her own relationship with her parents had always been strained by sickness and later challenged by the discovery that she had been born a biotic, but it was never as troubled as Samara and Morinth's. And somewhere between listening to Thane relive his past and accompanying him on his mission to save his son on the Citadel, Shepard realized her mother's behavior, who was always either harsh or absent, had more to do with uncontrollable circumstances rather than lack of love or acceptance.

She never got an apology out of her mother, but liked to believe that if she had been with Hannah Shepard at the very end she would be as contrite as Mordin, who took personal responsibility for his work on the genophage. Aria had been wrong: his tendency to talk forever was hardly annoying; it simply came out of his need to bounce ideas off of others, especially his own guilt over his involvement in the destruction of another species. If anything, Mordin was a walking lesson on how anyone could make a choice, later realize that choice was wrong, even if it appeared the best choice at the time. The past was not about who she was but what she could do now in the present, but it hardly meant that her past choices could or should have the same interpretation at the time that she had made them, or that she had to be the same forever.

That particular insight granted freedom: that it was perfectly acceptable to revisit the past as long as the purpose was to avoid repeating it. It was okay for Jack to accept her own troubled past: no matter how angry or how hurt Shepard had ever felt, nothing compared to what the gifted biotic had went through at the Paragia training facility. No matter how unstable and volatile Jack appeared, Shepard empathized with her anger and rage. But she stopped short approving of Jack's choices, even if they were the result of desperate soul-searching. If anything, the visit to the Paragia granted hope. It was hope for Shepard to finally see that the past could be reinterpreted, not just for Jack but for anyone: with new insight into past mistakes, the present granted the possibility of no repetition.

What is the purpose of a future that is destined to relive the past? The Reapers had come every fifty thousand years, time and time again. There was no record of how many times they had come, but if EDI was right, the cycle had come thousands upon thousands of times. When she thought about it, her stomach turned, knowing that how advanced any race had gotten in the last who-knew millions of years, the Reapers had always triumphed. How do you fight a force that is eternal?

Every advanced race in every cycle had fought the Reapers and lost. The recovery mission to the derelict reaper was a chilling reminder of that fact. Now, everything she did was about fighting them. There were times where she doubted herself and her own resolve. Isn't the definition of insanity just repeating the same choice and expecting a different result? She would often shrug away the nagging question when it would come to her like a ghostly whisper in the middle of the night. Somehow, they had to be stopped, yet every scant clue left behind from the previous cycles was proof that no one had. The Protheans managed to keep them at bay, for a time. But in the end, they also succumbed, and now what was left of them served the Reapers the form of the Collectors. It was a chilling reminder that anyone could fight enemy only to become what they were fighting against. The Reapers were the embodiment of the Nietzschean abyss that reached out to devour its beholder, until the beholder became the beheld. How could she stop that from happening?

Garrus had answered the question for her succinctly on his quest to avenge his fallen comrades. She remembered the encounter vividly, especially the conversation in the sky car.

"What do you want from me Shepard?" the turian demanded angrily. "What would you do if someone betrayed you?"

"I'm not sure, but"- she remembered saying just stopping herself short of a shrug—"I wouldn't let it change me."

"Yeah, I would have said the same thing before it happened."

"It's not too late; you don't have to go through with this."

"I have to. It's what you humans call an 'Eye for an eye.'"

"Yeah, but we also have another saying: 'An eye for an eye makes the world go blind.'"

"Gandhi," Garrus noted. "Lawyer and human freedom-fighter— often questioned by his peers. But, if I remember correctly, though he pretty much died believing in his cause."

"Not exactly; he was assassinated."

"Again, however you want to interpret it, he did die for his cause," the turian replied coldly, his mandibles flexing. "The way I see things, Shepard, anyone can die two ways. You can die staying true to who you are and standing up for what you believe in, or you can die by simply ceasing to be that person. Everyone dies eventually, but I owe it to the families of my men to avenge their deaths. At this point that's the only justice they can get. Who's going to bring Sidonis to Justice if I don't? Nobody else knows what he's done. Nobody else cares."

"Let me talk with him."

"Fine," he snapped. "Talk all you want, but you won't change my mind . . ."

"I understand what you're going through, but do you really want to kill him? It looks that you're the one that's doing all the dying here."

"I appreciate your concern. But I'm not you," Garrus replied darkly, his green eyes narrowing into their sockets.

"This isn't you either," Shepard insisted.

"Really? I've always hated injustice and if I fell short that-" he scoffed—"the thought that Sidonis could get away with this?! Why should he go on living while ten good men lie in unmarked graves? No, I'd still be breathing but dead anyway, because I'd stop being true to who I am. I'm sorry Shepard, but words aren't going to solve this problem. I need to set up."

I'd rather avoid the part where you die altogether, breathing or not. That was the thought that went through her head as put herself between Sidonis and the barrel of Garrus' sniper rifle.

"You're in my shot." Garrus' voice rang cold and calculated through her helmet speaker. "Move to the side."

For an instant the floor swayed between her boots, but Shepard already knew she was the only one swaying, shaking like a scale trying to balance the two excessive loads. How could anyone balance one man's life and another man's soul? She had to make a choice, and the wrong choice meant losing both. In the end, she had only made the decision she could live with herself making: one that would avoid repeating the past. "I'm a friend of Garrus," she spoke calmly. "He wants you dead, but I'm hoping that's not necessary."

"Damn it Shepard!" the ex C-sec officer was furious. "If he moves, I'm taking the shot!"

"Garrus?" the other turian shifted uncomfortably as his gray eyes scanned his surroundings and returned to Shepard. "You're not kidding, are you?" She was armed to the teeth, and that grim look in her cold green eyes sent shivers down his spine. "Screw this! I'm not sticking around to find out. Tell Garrus I had my own problems" He spun around quickly to bolt for the nearest exit when he was stopped short by an iron grip on his arm.

"Get off me!" he yelled trying to shake free.

"Look," Shepard gritted her teeth as she held him in place. "I'm the only thing standing between you and a hole in your head," her voice was low and quiet like it had dropped two full octaves.

Sidonis swore under his breath. " . . . I didn't want to do it," he admitted, his arms flinging in desperation ". . . I didn't have a choice."

"Everyone has a choice," Garrus retorted icily, his forefinger just itching over the trigger of his sniper rifle.

"They got to me, alright? They said they'd kill me if I didn't help. What was I supposed to do?!"

"Let me take the shot, Shepard," she heard Garrus throwing his own two cents in. "He's a damn coward."

"That's it?" she snorted with disgust, even as she matched Sidonis' every movement. "You were just trying to save yourself?"

From his vantage point, Garrus watched and waited. He saw the other turian's shoulders slump as he spewed out what seemed like a pitiful attempt at remorse.

". . . I wake up every night sick . . . and sweating. Each of their faces staring at me . . . accusing me . . . . . I'm already a dead man. I don't sleep. Food has no taste. Some days I just want it to be over."

He relaxed his grip off the trigger only to renew it a second later. "Give me the chance," he begged Shepard, disliking the twinge of uncertainty he heard on his own voice. What the hell's wrong with me? He thought incredulously. I can't believe I'm considering giving this scumbag a chance to speak for himself!

". . . let it go, Garrus," Shepard warned as she nodded at the slumped over Sidonis. "He's already paying for his crime."

"He hasn't paid enough. He still has his life."

"Just look at him," Shepard finally stepped out Garrus' sight, hoping he would make the right decision. "He's not alive. There's nothing left to kill. He's dead already." She had to believe that if the former C-Sec operative was anything at all, he could never be a hypocrite.

After a few moments, she heard a long drawn out sigh. "Fine," Garrus declared angrily, taking his finger off the trigger again. "My men deserved better," he took his eye of his scope and noticed it was misted over.

"Just go . . ." he said finally, shaking his head. "Tell him to go."

"I know you want to talk about this, but I don't . . . not yet." Garrus told her later on, as they were returning to the Normandy.

"I know it didn't go the way it planned," she managed to say. Hell, I'm glad it didn't go the way you planned! "But I think it's for the best."

"I'm not so sure," he replied dismissively.

"Give it time."

"Yeah, maybe that will be enough. I want to know I did the right thing—Not just for me but for my men. They deserve to be avenged, but when Sidonis was in my sight, I saw him-I hated what he had done and then I just couldn't do it!"

"I'm glad you didn't," she remembered saying. "The lines between good and evil always blur when we're looking at people we know."

"Yeah," Garrus admitted. "There was still good in him. It took a while to recognize, but I could see it." He shook his head. "It's so much easier to see the world in black and white. But gray? I don't know what to do with gray."

"We're all varying shades of gray, that's what makes us sentient. Sometimes the only thing you can do is trust your heart and go with your instincts."

"My instincts are what got me into this mess," he protested.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You remained true to yourself and to your principles, isn't that what your men would have wanted?"

"I think so; I hope so," Garrus said thoughtfully.

"Then for what it's worth, I'm glad you didn't die in one way or another," she smiled giving him a friendly nudge. "You're a good friend, Garrus, and the only sniper I'd trust to have my back. I'd hate losing you."

"Thanks Shepard," he returned her smile in kind, "for everything."

Garrus was right. All organics die one way or another. Even if by some miracle the Reapers could be stopped, eventually both she and everyone she cared for would die at some point. And the only thing that mattered in the face of that eventuality was staying true to who she was and what she believed in. The thought seemed to ease some of the tension she felt over jumping into the Omega 4 relay in the next two hours, but it hardly got rid of all of it.

She opened her eyes and again reread the last paragraph of her letter to Kaidan; the one that had been the most painful to write. On Horizon, he had accused her of betrayal.

"You betrayed the Alliance," the words still stung in her heart, the anger and venom with which he said them made her want to curl up into a ball and hide under the nearest rock. "You betrayed me!"

No. NO! NO! She heard herself scream inside.

"You've changed," Kaidan spat vehemently. "But I still know where my loyalties are—"

Kaidan, please. Please don't do this! She wanted to grab him and shake him violently. It's me! I love you! And I need you! And would never dream of hurting you! It's me! Can't you see me!? Look at me!

"—I'm an Alliance soldier—always will be," he declared as he turned to leave. "I got to report back to the Citadel. They can decide whether to believe your story or not."

No! Kaidan, please. Please don't leave me! I don't know what I'll do without you. He had been her rock after Virmire. He was only person she had ever allowed herself to love completely since losing her family fifteen years earlier . . . and now she was going to lose him too.

She remembered feeling lightheaded and the lower half of her body being numb and heavy like someone had just tried to bludgeon her to death. She tried to convince him to stay; to come with her. But in the end, the words stuck in her throat. Everything she said seemed to come out wrong. And just like that, he brushed her off coldly and left—like none of the things they had done ever happened—like she had never meant anything to him to begin with. It was unreal.

Thankfully, Garrus snapped her back to reality. "You know he's still in range," he mused thoughtfully, his hawk like eyes glaring at the back of Kaidan's head. "Just give the word."

"No," she remembered saying flatly as she hailed the Normandy for shuttle pick-up.

Several days passed. Shepard threw herself into the recruitment of more potential crew members from the Illusive Man's dossiers. And just when she thought she had finally moved on, the arrival of his letter sent her reeling again: bouncing from disbelief to outrage to all-out despair.

The fact that he mentioned seeing someone else only added insult to injury.

Surprisingly, two members of her crew came out in Kaidan's defense. The first was Joker, whom she whom she found skulking outside her quarters one evening, looking more than a little out of place.

"Joker?" she eyed him with disbelief. "What are you doing up here?"

"Commander," he did his best to straighten up. "Could I have a word, in private?"

"About what, exactly?"

"About Commander Alenko," he said uncomfortably, "and you."

Unbelievable. She snorted exasperatedly, gesturing for him to come inside. "Did someone put you up to this?" she hissed as the door to the Captain's quarters slid behind them.

"Um, no ma'am," his brown eyes widened as he took the room in looking for chair he could easily get up out of. He finally chose the swivel chair in front of Shepard's desk, and from underneath his cap, he studied her reaction.

Shepard's glanced down at him in annoyance. "Come on, Jeff," she regarded him with arms crossed. "We've known each other for a long time. What's going on?"

Joker's shoulders tensed. "N-Nothing," he swallowed hard and he tried to hide his twitching fingers. "It's just—It's just the four of us have been talking and I thought It'd be good if I cleared the air."

Shepard's dark red brows came together suspiciously. "The four of you?" At the time, there were only three members of her original crew aboard the new Normandy. "Who else is in on the shenanigans?" Please let it be Liara and not anyone from Cerberus. It was already bad enough that the Illusive Man and leaked information to the Alliance about Horizon that inadvertently—make that deliberately—put the man she loved in the line of fire. The last thing she needed to hear was that one of her friends had betrayed her.

"No one!" the pilot declared fearfully. "Just me, and Dr. Chakwas, and Garrus and urm EDI, of course."

"What?!" Shepard's voice shot up three octaves. "You shared elements of my personal life with a Cerberus computer? What the hell is wrong with you? I thought you hated talking to that damned thing!"

That was when the bright blue bulb-like apparition was EDI's avatar appeared at its terminal inside the room. "Sorry to interrupt, Shepard, but I believed it necessary to point out that Mr. Moreau's willingness to acknowledge and engage in conversation varies with subject-matter."

"That's great," Shepard heard herself say. "You put Kaidan's life in danger so you trade gossip with a Reaper-tech AI."

"Actually, Shepard," EDI interrupted once more. "Although Illusive Man noted a strong likelihood of a personal connection between yourself and the commander after reviewing Alenko's personnel file, it was, in fact, your initial inquiries as to his well-being and where-a-bouts that confirmed that to be the case."

"There!" Joker pointed towards EDI's terminal with an air of vindication. "You see?! Not my fault!"

"In my own defense, Shepard, I was programmed with certain ethical and behavioral subroutines to ensure the success of this mission. These sub-routines dictated that I keep current and informed as to status of the crew. As Commander, your decisions have direct impact on their health and well-being. In turn, they reflect your own mental and physical state. That requires I stay appraised as to status of your personal relationships and how they affect you."

Shepard's eyes narrowed remembering that the Illusive Man admitted to leaking information that put Kaidan directly into harm's way on Horizon. She wondered if EDI was aware of that. "That's all very touching, but while you were going about being an artificial busy-body, did any of that fancy programming help you deduce how Commander Alenko's capture or death would have altered the scope and parameters of this mission given what you already knew about me?"

EDI paused. "No, Shepard, it did not."

"Of course not," the commander retorted. "That would have required you to come up with mathematical equation for love which is impossible since anything that can't be stored, measured, or quantified is beyond your comprehension, as a machine."

"Wow, that was a bit harsh—don't you think?" her pilot observed.

With that Shepard gave him a look that could have frozen metal.

"Shutting up, now," Joke said quickly.

"I do have additional permissions in my programming algorithms that allow me to alter my code in order to adapt to new mission parameters," the AI volunteered.

"That's lovely," Shepard replied icily. "Maybe you should go work on yourself instead before diving into the personal affairs of others."

"Very well, Shepard. I apologize for offending you," with that EDI's terminal flickered off and the Commander was left to deal with Joker and his antics.

"Look," Joker straightened himself up in her chair. "I didn't come in here to piss you off. Garrus mentioned that Kaidan unsurprisingly made a complete ass of himself, and that you were upset. So given what happened after your death, I felt I ought to say a few words in his defense."

Shepard hesitated for a moment, biting her lower lip. "Okay," she nodded. "Out with it!"

"Okay! Alenko and I pretty much stopped talking after your death."

"Go on," she remained impassive.

"He said it was my fault that you died. And hell, he was right. He had every reason to be angry at me. If I hadn't been so stupid and actually followed his orders in the first place, none of the shit any of us have gone through the last two years would have happened. That's why I'm here. Not because of the pay. Not because of the damned leather seats. But because I fucked up, and everyone else ended up paying for it." Joker bowed his head waiting for what felt like a verdict to a trial that had dragged on far too long.

The words "You don't know that exactly" were not what he expected to hear.

"What?" He looked up in disbelief to see Shepard's expression had softened. He preferred her being angry rather than seeing the sad far off look on her face. "How do you figure?"

"Even if everyone had gotten off the Normandy alive, we both saw what that Collector ship did. They could have easily come around for another pass and taken out all our escape pods in one fell swoop, and then where would we be?"

The flight lieutenant paused. He had never thought of that before.

"Knowing what we now know about the Collectors, I'm convinced that's exactly what they would have done."

With that Joker found himself nodding. He had seen enough footage from Shepard's hardsuit camera to see the Collectors in action.

"You may not have thought about it at the time, but you actually ended up saving every member of the crew that made it to their escape pods."

"Please don't tell me after all that, that I'm some kind of hero," Joker snorted, shaking his head. He felt like an idiot. "It sure as hell doesn't feel that way."

"It never does."

"Well that wasn't what Alenko said, and it wasn't what he put in his report either."

"I can imagine. But he knows no one has the luxury of being objective when they're in the thick of things," she admitted finding herself leaning up against the wall of room's massive aquarium. "I still beat myself up over Ashley's death, sometimes. I try to think of all the things that could have been done differently."

"But there was nothing you could have done about that."

"Right, but at the same time, I was unwilling to stake Kaidan's life or the rest of the crew to save hers. And that's totally on me. But if I could have saved her life by trading places with her—if I could have died in her stead, I would've done it in a heartbeat."

"Yeah, and then Alenko would have blamed her and not me, for your death," Joker pointed out, as he watched as familiar half-smile trace over the commander's lips. It was a smile he had waited two years for: it was Shepard's trademark "I'm-a-smart-ass-and-I-know-it" smile.

"And she would have told him to go space himself." Hell, I'm still thinking of doing that in response to his letter.

Joker could not suppress his chortle. "That's true," he admitted as his expression became serious again, "it would have been hilarious, if I didn't know Alenko would have followed through with the suggestion."

The crease in Shepard's furrowed brow deepened. She had always thought of Kaidan as being the calm head in every situation. During their mission to stop Saren she often relied on him to be the thoughtful and steady voice of reason among the crew, and she could think of at least a dozen bad decisions she would have made had he not been there as the cooling counter-weight to her fiery disposition. "He couldn't have been that bad."

"No," Joker shook his head. "You have no idea what he was like after he couldn't find you in the last escape pod. He was like a man deranged. And if you'd had seen him at your funeral, you wouldn't have recognized him."

An uncomfortable silence descended on the room as she remained lost in thought. When she had first met Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, she could have sworn he lived every moment of his life according to the Alliance Soldier's Regulation Manual. But then she started talking with him and found that his tendency to catalog, analyze and over-think anything and everything had a lot to do with a need for control that had not been there in his past. Even with their feelings made known to each other, he would always hold back. Often she found their relationship to be an exercise in frustration. He always took two steps forward only to take a step and a half back in the opposite direction. It took the night before Ilos, when the both of them were faced the prospect of each others' death, for him to finally peel away veil of ice he had so carefully constructed around himself and show his true colors as a creature of deep, intense and almost violent passion.

Had holding his emotions back for so long finally made him snap? Or had her death been the shove that sent him spiraling over the edge? Shepard found herself rolling her right shoulder, as if subconsciously shrugging off a sudden jab of guilt.

"Well?" Joker interrupted her reverie.

"What?" she asked with obvious annoyance.

"Are you going to cut Alenko some slack?" he asked.

Shepard sighed as she ran her fingers though her rebellious fire-red bangs and tucked them back behind an ear. "I put up with your shit, don't I?" she shot back smartly. "And you'd be lucky if I was half as fond of you."

"Ouch," Joker observed. "You always know the right words to get a guy." Yeah, right in the nuts.

"Incidentally," she said listlessly "you're in my chair, and last I checked this isn't the cockpit."

"Oh," he rose awkwardly bracing himself against her desk. "Hint taken," he slowly started towards the door. "Thanks for the chat, Commander."

Shepard nodded sat down in at her desk and swiveled the chair around just in time watch him leave. His head was just through the doorway when he heard her call his name. "Joker; one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever stick your nose into my private life again, unless you want it broken."

She had thought she had heard the end of it, until a couple of weeks later when she was in the med bay for her routine check-up. Dr. Chakwas had her hooked up to several different machines, monitoring everything from her heart-rate and blood pressure to her electrolyte levels and oxygen saturation, all while asking the standard battery of questions.

"How have you been feeling?" the doctor asked shining a light into her pupils. "Any pain anywhere?"

"Just a little muscle soreness from the last mission," Shepard replied tipping head to the left, and relaxing her shoulders upon hearing the snap-crackle-pop of her vertebrae. "Nothing I can't handle."

Her eyes followed the doctor as she turned her attention to her right ear, brushing a couple of stray red strands out the way of her otoscope. "You'd be happy to know I haven't been skipping any meals," she volunteered. On the mission to stop Saren, Shepard had learned the hard way skipping a meals and prolonged use of biotics would land her in the med bay for hypoglycemic shock along with a two hour lecture on the intricacies of human biotics and another famous Alenko sermon about the dangers of cutting corners.

"Oh?" the doctor raised her eyebrows while gently urging Shepard to lean her head to the right. "What about the nutrient shakes?"

"Still vile and disgusting," answered the patient.

"And necessary," the doctor added.

"I know," Shepard replied flatly. One of Dr. Chakwas' favorite harping points was how female biotics required more nutrients than human male counterparts so that they could "perform hormonal gymnastics every month."

"And speaking of hormonal gymnastics," the older woman smiled as her fingers gently probed along her patient's neck and jaw searching for any abnormalities, knowing Shepard found the subject uncomfortable. "How's your cycle?"

"Like bomb that goes off every twenty-eight days," Shepard grimaced. That was yet another reason she wanted to wring the Illusive Man's neck. Prior to the Lazarus Project, Shepard was part an elite few amongst soldiers and extreme athletes whose low body fat granted immunity to the monthly red plague that was the female condition for all of humanity. But unfortunately enough for her, that blue-eyed, smoke-sucking son-of-a-bitch could not leave well enough alone. She felt violated and humiliated. The fact that he had thought of everything was mortifying.

"Don't be so droll, Shepard. Not every woman is lucky enough to the dials of her biological turned back. In that regard, the Illusive Man did you a favor."

Shepard's cheeks were on fire. "If it's all the same you, I would have preferred to have been consulted before he stuck his grubby fingers inside my biological clock."

"Understandable," Chakwas agreed. "But what's done is done."

"Yeah," her patient replied flatly. Someday I'm going to shoot that bastard, if for nothing else but that.

"How have you been sleeping?"

"Okay, I guess."

"No night terrors?"

"The aquarium in my quarters is gives off enough light while I'm sleeping, so I haven't had any." Actually, sound of the water trickling through the tank's filtration system also helped her fall asleep, but she hardly thought it was worth mentioning.

"What about the dream?" Dr. Chakwas eyed her point blank and Shepard flinched. "The dream" as they started calling it right after Eden Prime, was another unwelcome side-effect of the vision she had received from the Prothean beacon right before it blew up. It had been terrifying enough that she woke up screaming the night following the day she woke from her coma. In it she saw dozens of worlds burning all overshadowed by what looked like an endless swarm of Sovereign-like ships, ships they all now knew were Reapers. Over months that led up to the battle for the Citadel, the dream had been re-occurring, its frequency increasing to the point where she had it every night the week before she confronted Sovereign. It finally relented after the Reaper was destroyed.

"It's back," Shepard admitted quietly.

"That's not good," the doctor said tersely. "When did start?"

"Just after Horizon when I started hearing voices—one voice specifically; one claiming to be the 'Harbringer of our destruction.'"

"The one you think might be a Reaper?"

"I'm not sure what to think otherwise. Whoever or whatever this 'Harbinger' is, it took over some of the Collector soldiers and controlled them the same way Sovereign took over Saren's body on the Citadel. There's far too much at stake to chalk it up to coincidence. You know the old saying 'if quacks like a duck and acts like a duck'"—"It probably is a Reaper."

Shepard studied the doctor intently. Her interjection was a statement not a question.

"I have no reason to doubt you, Shepard. You're the resident expert in that department," Chakwas declared. "Why didn't you come and see me immediately after it occurred?"

"Because I was waiting to see if I would get it again," Shepard explained. "And . . ." she paused, "I was busy." With Kaidan's letter.

"I see. How many times has it occurred?"

"Twice, I think—I'm not sure. I've had so many times in the past that I think my brain's grown accustomed to it."

The older woman pursed her lips. "I'd like you to start keeping track of these dreams and monitor their frequency. At least that way we can establish a pattern that will allow me to bring you in to monitor your brain activity when it occurs."

"Okay."

"I also think you should alert the Council."

"You think the Prothean beacon planted some kind of Reaper warning system in my head?"

"Dr. T'Soni and I discussed the possibility back when you first started having them, but we couldn't tell for certain," Chakwas shrugged. "But I do know the Protheans had vast understanding of neurology, and this symptom began right after your exposure to the beacon on Eden Prime. Like you said earlier, there's far too much at stake to assume coincidence. The Council would at least consider that much."

"They didn't believe the last time, why would they believe now? They weren't too happy when they learned I was working with Cerberus."

"Council Anderson believes you. That's a quarter of the battle. By now, the rest of the Council by now heard Kaidan's account of what happened on Horizon and how you saved half the colony. That should count for something. And besides, you're still a Spectre."

"They won't buy it. They're going want a smoking gun—something incontrovertible. And even once they have it, the Council races won't risk war by sending a fleet into the Terminus systems to deal with the Collectors, let alone the Reapers. I get the feeling we're going to be on our own for a while." Shepard said grimly. "Which means I really got to get back to work."

"There is one more thing I'd like to discuss," Dr. Chakwas paused looking over her data pad. "Your cortisol levels have gone up twenty percent since Horizon. While I think the Collectors and Reapers have some part to play in it I think there's more to it than that. I know you and Kaidan had a very heated exchange, and that it's obviously been bothering you. Have you tried e-mailing him?"

Shepard sighed. By now she was expecting Karin Chakwas to eventually bring up her relationship with Kaidan. A staccato series of beeps from the heart rate and blood pressure monitor, indicated her discomfort with the subject. It was the elephant in the room, and she wanted it dead. "I thought this was supposed to be a check-up, not an interrogation."

"I'm sorry, Shepard. I need to monitor the level of stress you're under, and you need to be aware of it too—especially if you want to those scars on your face to heal."

With that the monitors spiked again indicating Shepard's obvious level of discomfort. "Tell me something," she said quietly feeling her cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. "When we were on the first Normandy, chasing Saren and trying to stop Soveriegn, were we that obvious?"

"There were a couple of rumors on the lower deck," Chakwas said reticently. "Not uncommon at all on a ship the Normandy's size. And you know how it can be when you stuck in close quarters for months with the same people."

"I know that," the other acknowledged. "But I didn't expect everyone to think that just because a man and woman work well together they have to be sleeping with each other."

"Actually, Kaidan at one point asked me if there might have been something going on between you and Anderson the night you had your first nightmare after Edan Prime."

Shepard's eyebrows jumped. She remembered Kaidan had shown a jealous streak when he expressed concerns to her about her friendship with Liara, but idea that Anderson was more than a friend and mentor was preposterous. "I assume you explained how that would be like me sleeping with my own father." She shuddered. She found it hard to believe Kaidan had shown interest in her so soon after they had met, let alone that he was possessive.

"It's human nature to mentally pair people when you see them working closely every day. People get bored and start jumping to conclusions just to have something to talk about," the doctor reassured her. "But to answer your initial question: aside from a few rumors, no one had reason to suspect the two of you had been in a relationship until Alchera."

Shepard considered this for a moment. She had never heard a complete account as to what happened to her crew after the Normandy crashed. "What happened on Alchera?"

"The first few hours went as smoothly as could be expected. My escape pod touched down within walking distance of several others. Being the ranking officer, Kaidan took command almost immediately, locating a suitable location to set up camp and ordering the surviving marines to establish a defensible perimeter around it. I focused on setting up triage since short range radio already confirmed several wounded and number of casualties."

"After a few hours, omni-tool scans were unable to pick up any sign of the final escape pod, so Kaidan sent out search parties to investigate with no success. I should have seen the warning signs when he took the first double shift the first day and a second the day after, but I still had my hands full with caring for the wounded in triage."

"By the end of the fourth day, I had to treat him for exposure and second degree frost bite. He went off in the middle of the night by himself in search of the escape pod!"

"I assume he found it eventually," Shepard observed quietly.

"He did, and when he couldn't find you in the pod he confronted Joker who was severely injured and in no condition to speak. It took four marines to finally restrain him, and by the time the search party made it back to camp I had no choice but to relieve him of duty for medical reasons."

Shepard breathed deeply feeling her stomach sink. They had been so careful up until Ilos, and even after she had begged him to stay with her that night, he still insisted: "This can't change anything, Shepard. This is a good crew: the finest I've served with. I don't want to mess it up." Guilt hit her full on now. Kaidan, you were so right about cutting corners. This is all my fault. You deserved better and I let you down. I should have loved you enough to let you go. "I never meant to hurt the crew, and I sure as hell never meant to hurt Kaidan either."

"I'm sure you didn't, Shepard," Dr. Chakwas said softly. "Losing a captain is devastating for any crew, and we were all shocked when you weren't in the final escape pod. Kaidan held us together as long as any officer could under the circumstances, but he took news of your death worst of us all. The Alliance review board looking into the crash had him committed to a mental facility for a week for observation."

Shepard's shoulders sunk knowing that was the kind of thing that could end any soldier's carrier. Kaidan, she thought. My poor Kaidan. "Was he treated for anything specific?"

"Temporary acute psychosis due to severe stress response; it's the psychiatric jargon used when there isn't enough history to justify final diagnosis like depression or post-traumatic stress disorder."

"Makes sense. You could kiss your military career goodbye with having something like that stamped to your forehead," Shepard observed thoughtfully.

"Although by then it was obvious the two of you had a personal connection, Admiral Hackett decided not to pursue any inquiry seeing as the Alliance had already lost one good soldier. He didn't think it right to crucify another."

"Good to know the human Alliance is run by humans after all," Shepard mused.

"The review board granted him medical leave and sent him back to Earth for six months," Dr. Chakwas.

Shepard winced remembering how Kaidan had come off as being cold and blunt in his letter: "It took me a long time to get over my guilt for surviving and to move on . . . " Now she knew why: the shock of losing her, the embarrassment of being relieved from command, the wait to get back to work and the endless hoops he must have had to jump through before he could be cleared for active duty again. "It must have been hell," she found herself saying.

"For what it's worth," the doctor agreed. "I'm more concerned about you at the moment. Kaidan had two years and help to adjust to the change. For you it's been months?"

"Actually, one minute I was floating in space realizing my suit had sprung a couple of leaks and the next minute I was on an operating table in a Cerberus facility waking up to find the universe had gone to hell in a hand basket."

"Then try to give yourself some time to think and then act accordingly instead of simply reacting to the situation," the older woman advised. "I know being able to react quickly to a situation is what makes an excellent soldier, but it doesn't always make for a fully-functioning human being."

"Don't worry doctor," Shepard reassured her. "I'm not planning on doing anything that would warrant being removed from command."

"I hope not, Shepard. We're all counting on you to get us through this mission," she remembered Dr. Chakwas say.

Again, Shepard forced herself back to the present and another pang of guilt cut through her like a knife. Dr. Chakwas and the rest of the support crew had counted on her, yet when the Collectors had overran the ship she had not been there. She desperately hoped that they were all still alive, and that she would not find them reduced to a pile of corpses like the one she found aboard the Collector ship. Time was of the essence, and every moment that delayed the Normandy's entry into the Omega 4 decreased their chances of survival.

She could almost hear the Illusive Man's nagging admonition after he questioned to her about her past relationships, specifically with regards to Kaidan. "If it affects the mission, better you should leave it behind."

She could still feel the rush of anger when she read that Kaidan started seeing someone else.

Um, hello!? Her rational side kicked in. He thought you were dead. What did you expect him to do? Be miserable for the rest of his life?

No, she decided that would have been unfair. More like cruel and unfair.

She wondered what she would have done, if she had survived the crash on Alchera and he had been the one reported as killed in action. Shepard sighed as tears immediately flooded her vision, the same way they did whenever she ruminated on her parents' death. She would have mourned him, feeling considerably worse than she did now. She knew she would have avoided other relationships for years, like she had right after the failed engagement nearly a decade ago. But that was her way of dealing with loss, and, again, it was hardly fair to expect Kaidan to do the same. In fact, the pain that she felt at the prospect of his death on her way to Horizon was something she would never wish on anyone—last of all him. The fact that he was willing to acknowledge his pain and even be angry at her still showed that, even after two years, he still carried a torch for her.

Shepard quickly rubbed the tears out of her eyes, and ran her right hand through her hair as she glanced at the clock. It was oh two-hundred hours, just over an hour before the start of what every remaining member on her crew knew could be their final mission. She brought her chair around to look at his picture, knowing, yet again, it would probably be the last time she saw his face again. "Kaidan," she whispered. "I wish we had had more time. I wish I had more time to show you how much I love you."

The crew was counting on her leadership in the next twenty-four hours, and then was far more at stake than just the crew. The fate of humanity also hung in the balance. If the mission had any hope of succeeding at all, all past connections had to be severed. She hated that she had to do it. She hated that the only way to prove to Kaidan that she was still the woman he loved was to say "good-bye," but it was the only thing left for her to do both for her crew and for his sake.

Her left hand drifted over towards the computer console and she took a deep breath as she typed the "send" command. She exhaled slowly knowing the letter was already on its way, and with another breath she finally tore herself away from Kaidan's face before turning to walk defiantly out of the room. The hard part of the mission was already over. It was time to face the Collectors and give them hell.