Her world was wreathed in fire.

There was so much fire.

Everywhere Ashley turned, she met fire. Flames were splashed over every surface around her, savagely roiling and and crackling nearly seemingly alive. There was a fierce orange glow produced by it illuminating the way ahead, negating the need for the overhead lighting, which had failed and burnt out anyway. Roiling and chemically charged clouds of ebony smoke billowed off where the fires were, filling the upper halves of the ship's corridors and rooms, flooding out into every space it could.

And then there was the heat.

Though there were still sections where tempretures were livable, the one Ashley was in now was a total furnace. Anything made of plastic and fiberglass, especially anything nearest to the flames, had been half slagged, steadily liqifiying into sludge. Metal deck and wall plating sizzled , white hot and scalding, easily able to have given bare skin instant full depth burns.

If it wasn't for her helmet, her armor's inbuilt self contained breathing apparatus, and now-overclocked and overworked environmental controls, Ashley would have succumbed to heatstroke by now, or suffocated as the scalding air burned her lungs.

Suffocated and died, as the Normandy SR-1 burned.

Many of her crew already had done both.

As Ashley ran through the deadly corridors, twisting and swerving around the worst of the inferno ( which didn't leave much space ), she had to head past the remains of the men and women who'd crewed the tough little frigate. They'd been killed on their feet, taken out by the damage-caused explosions that were now fueling the raging fires. They were slumped against the bulkheads, or sprawled face up, face down, where they'd fallen. Lying there, statue still in death.

Thankfully, most seemed to be down.

Ashley didn't have to risk glancing at their faces then. She'd see enough of those in her dreams later.

If she survived this.

Its's only been a few minutes, and already, we've lost this many ?! Who's out there ?!

She didn't want to just rush past her dead brothers and sisters in arms. It galled and revolted her to no end-they deserved more than that-but she had no choice. Speed was life right now, and she'd lose hers just as they had if she didn't keep it up.

So, stealing herself for the moment, Ashley ran on.

Despite the wanton destruction, she knew exactly where to head. She'd just come out of the elevator that linked the hangar deck to this one; crew quarters, mess hall, infirmary, CO's quarters, and the stasis pods. The Normandy was not a large ship, and she'd been on it more than long enough to have all but memorized every square meter. She was running ( in both senses of the word ) on reflex, letting her legs carry her to her destination hardly with needing to think of it.

This place is my home, and its getting shot to hell !

Soon, though, she made it to the stasis pods, at the far end of the deck's layout. Sure enough, standing just beyond the very last pair of pods, facing away from her, stood a lone, tall, and sturdy looking figure, clad in armor as black as the choking smoke. Brandishing a fire extinguisher, the figure was busy unleashing it against the fires that were stubbornly clawing their way up and around the pods.

Even from behind, and despite the distorting glow put out by the fire, Ashley would've, and did, recognize who it was, instantly.

There was only one person she'd ever met, and certainly only one aboard, who wore armor such as that. Only one person who could seem so commanding, and confident, just by the way they stood. He was not the only one of his kind, not by a long shot, but Ashley was certain that none of his peers could quite stack up to the full measure of this man. Just not quite.

There was only one-

" Shepard ! "

The tall man, the one and only Jerimiah Shepard, turned his head at the call of his name. Instantly and clearly recognizing who it was, he turned all the way around to face her, revealing the inscrutable face of his Onyx helmet, and the unmistakably distinctive salt white, ruby red insignia of:

N7.

Set firmly and proudly into his chest armor plating. Every Alliance solider who was still breathing today, no matter where they were stationed, no matter how remote it was, had heard much, and a lot, of the N7s. They were the cream of the Alliance's warfighters, the upper caste of soldiers that Humanity could offer.

They were the product of months of the most thorough martial training available. They were equipped with the best and most top of the line armor, and weapons the Alliance could make or buy.

They had, all of them, and most importantly of all, the indomitable commando mindset of " We are the best soldiers alive anywhere. " That's what made them what they were: The pinnacle of what every Alliance solider wanted to be. When an N7 was on the scene, you always thought for certain they would find a way out of a mess you didn't think was escapeable.

Ashley would be lying if she said this was the happiest she'd ever been to see him. And, not just for the aforementioned reasons. It made her feel happy, as it always did.

But, those were ones that would have to wait, and that nobody else could be allowed to know. That existed only between them, and she aimed to keep it that way.

" Ashley. Did you find any survivors ? The abandon ship order has been sent, but I won't leave any of my people behind. ", he adressed her, in his natural deep tone, filled with steel as it was whenever orders needed to be given, and especially in a crisis.

He was a true N7.

Damn. We're blessed to have him in charge.

Coming to a halt a few feet away from him, Ashley did not waste a second to respond; a trait of all Alliance, officer to enlisted, N7 or not.

" No, sir. Came straight here as ordered, and checked every compartment en route. There's nobody left on this deck. What about the CIC ?! "

One of the coolant tubes for a pod abruptly came loose with a piercingly loud snake hiss. It flopped around, spewing clouds of vapor. Ashley briefly flinched, and Shepard dodged the tongue of flame that burst out when the tube whipped too close to the rest of fire.

The Normandy was coming apart fast. That she'd held together this long was nothing but a God-sent miracle.

Rebounding first, Shepard closed over to Ashley, and she noticed then that he had another extinguisher in his other hand. He held it out to her.

Without a word, she took it. Immedietly, Shepard turned and returned to where he'd been using his, hosing down the inferno with torrents of foam. Ashley yanked the pin out of hers, and followed suit.

The heat was already brutal enough, and standing this close to it, Ashley could swear her outer plating was getting soft. The temp inside her suit was still temperate, but there wasn't anything soothing about fire this close to you.

" Got to get this fire under control first ! ", Shepard was a little louder now, as the crackling became louder, matching the fire's intensity. " Its getting too close to the main coolant supply ! If that goes, the port side lifeboats' launch conduits won't trigger ! "

Its that bad ? How many of us aren't away ? This ship is dying !

Ashley made herself stay on task, as she battled the fires on, hands aching from gripping the extinguisher's handle. She channeled her focus into attacking the base of the flames, gutting and erasing them. It was the only method to defeating a fire without an air drop: take it from the ground up.

Slowly, the fire began to lose ground.

" I think we've got it, sir ! " Ashley called out, feeling emboldened, as ratio of smoke to fire filling the are began to change toward the former. " A few more seconds, and then we can make a final sweep for survivors ! "

More hissing from Shepard's device, then-

" Roger that. Just about done here ! "

He was right. The fire had lost a lot of its punch. Where it had touched was scorched and darkened, melted even, but it was beaten. They'd won here.

But, the Normandy burned elsewhere, and you could see that everywhere you turned. It'd been a vicious and unrelenting ambush. Normandy had been hit hard

Fatally hard.

If-when, I hate like hell to admit that, but I have to be honest here- we're abandoning ship, but who'll be out there to come for us ?

Who did this will suffer. They destroyed my home. Taken my comrades with it. Who's behind this will suffer.

Ashley inhaled slightly, then exhaled, which sounded louder than she thought it would against the interior of her helmet.

She didn't want to speak those concerns out loud. It wouldn't help at all. She'd stayed focused this far; just had to stay that way a little longer.

" Right, then. " Just out the corner of her eye, she saw Shepard set down his spent extinguisher, and turn toward her.

" Ashley. Take one last last sweep around, and get everyone left into the pods. I'll make for the bridge, get Joker out. "

" On it, si-"

Wait a second. Joker's still here ?!

Though Ashley felt for everyone they'd lost so far, Helmsman Jeff ' Joker ' Moreau was one of the few she was actually close to, and considered to a be a true friend. He was prone to bad jokes, sexually laden remarks, and occasional bouts of shameless high self confidence, but underneath and despite that, he was fun to chat with, easy to get to know, and an absolute master at his job.

But, he was a friend to her, and he was still in danger. That was unacceptable.

" Why hasn't he made for the pods yet ?! ", Ashley's exclaimtion seemed louder to her than it should've. But, even so, was drowned out by the ever present cacophony of the Normandy in its death throes.

Still holding on, but only just, and not for much longer.

Shepard shook his head. " I've been on comms with him nonstop, while trying to keep the fires here in check. He's still trying to stabilize our orbit, or what's left of it. "

" I'll get to him now. You, though, have your own task. ". He pointed back the way they'd both come, now less treacherous, somewhat, due to their improvised firefighting brigade.

" Joker and I will take our own pod out. Go ! "

Ashley's instincts, and the Alliance solider in her, compelled her in the first few heartbeats, to do as he said.

" Sir ! "

Her legs moved of their own accord, and she turned to to sprint back down the passage-

And then something critical came to mind. It just surged forward, right to the center of her focus.

Just leaving him, when our ship's falling to pieces. This isn't some firefight planetside we can both fall back from, or fight through. We're out in space, and the only place to go is right into the vacuum.

I can't just walk away like this !

She spun back around.

Shepard was already past her, though, heading swiftly for the stairs that led to the command deck, and the bridge beyond, with flat footed determination. There was still fire raging throughout the mess hall, leaving the narrow corridor that Ashley had run though to get to the pods.

Not that it slowed either of them. Shepard wasn't letting anyone, or in this case, anything, stand in his way. He was clearly bent on making sure he got his whole crew to safety, his own be dammed.

As always. But, dammit, not again !

" Shepard ! "

It wasn't yelling. But, she damn well made sure he heard her.

And it worked. He stopped.

Turned around, clearly surprised. But, predictably, not off guard.

Ashley knew she had only a heartbeat to make this moment count. It wasn't nearly long enough. Heart achingly not long enough. All of a sudden, Ashley wasn't sure if she could do this. She knew she could, and would have to, but that didn't help here.

Do it !

" I love you, remember ?! " Ashley nearly shouted it. " So, don't make me have to come looking for you ! "

What did it matter that she'd told him she loved him before ? Or, that they were headed in different direction in the midst of a mortally perilous situation ? Not to her. She would tell him this, when it felt right.

And, it was now as well. Because, Shepard actually stopped.

He turned, fully facing her, no doubt looking her in the eye, despite his helmet obscuring his face. Everything seemed to stand still, for just a few moments, as the fires still raged, and the alrams still wailed.

Ashley was a good solider; she could multitask as a manner of instinct. But, moments like these, she focused on him.

He reponded; Short, but it was powerful.

" You've got my soul. "

And with that, he was gone.

' Hhh ! '

With primally startled intake of air , Ashley found herself wide awake, sitting up fast as a coiled spring.

She was back alone in her quarters, a medium sized room, that was just as it had been when she woke. It was spartanly filled with just what a soldier would carry: kit bag filled with spare clothing and personal effects sitting beside her cot bed, a storage locker up against one unpainted wall containing her Phoenix armor and weapons, and a small red foam-filled exercise mat rolled out on the floor.

It was all the same. It was also couldn't have been any more different from what she'd woken up from if it'd tried.

" God, not again. It happened again, no ! "

She rubbed her palms into her face, as if trying to force the relentless nigthmare out of her head. The one that kept coming back. The one that wouldn't leave her alone, no matter how long it seemed to have left, and no matter how hard she fought it.

" Why can't I get rid of it ?! Why ?!"

Ashley wished and craved that. She had enough ghosts and skeletons to haunt her; her lost comrades of her old unit: D-Squad, Echo Company, 212th Frontier Rifles. They'd all been wiped out by the Geth on Eden Prime, fighting to thier last seconds of life, only to die regardless, and leaving her all alone. They'd all been her family, her extended clan. All of them dead.

She couldn't save them. It had destroyed her inside, and she'd known for certain that she'd never forget it, or ever let herself think she could've done more. Now, this immortal nightmare was doing that to her all over again.

Except, there was one critical difference: She'd loved one of the ghosts. She'd loved Shepard.

Yes, she'd loved them all- Jamin, Rosamund, Abishek, Amina-, but Jerimiah Shepard ?

Nobody else was to her what he'd been.

He'd been who'd she'd fallen for. He was the one she'd felt she could trust and confide in fully. Someone she relized wanted her to smile, and made her smile as well. Someone-

' You've got my soul. '

Someon-

' You've got my soul '

Some-

' You've got my soul '

" AUUUGH! NO ! "

Ashley Madeline Williams was one of the toughest fighters of the 212th Rifles, so said everyone of her commanders, in spite of their bias against her family name. She was every bit as full of backbone as any of the defenders of Shanxi, as her Grandfather had once told her. She came from a history of steel.

But, right then, that steel turned to slag.

Not caring if she hadn't been alone, Ashley buried her face into her palms.

And she began to cry.