All Around Me

My hands are searching for you

My arms are outstretched towards you

I feel you on my fingertips

My tongue dances behind my lips for you

This fire rising through my being

Burning, I'm not used to seeing you

I'm alive

I'm alive

I can feel you all around me

Thickening the air I'm breathing

Holding on to what I'm feeling

Savoring this heart that's healing

My hands float up above me

And you whisper you love me

And I begin to fade

Into our secret place

The music makes me sway

The angels singing say we are alone with you

I am alone and they are too with you

I'm alive

I'm alive

I can feel you all around me

Thickening the air I'm breathing

Holding on to what I'm feeling

Savoring this heart that's healing

And so I cry

The light is white

And I see you

I'm alive

I'm alive

I'm alive

I can feel you all around me

Thickening the air I'm breathing

Holding on to what I'm feeling

Savoring this heart that's healing

Take my hand, I give it to you

Now you own me, all I am

You said you would never leave me

I believe you, I believe

I can feel you all around me

Thickening the air I'm breathing

Holding on to what I'm feeling

Savoring this heart that's healed

All Around Me- Flyleaf

Swimming. Her body was swimming in darkness, aches reverberating throughout her entire being, reaching a crescendo of pain before dying out into a dull throbbing. Her body felt light as a feather yet heavy as stone, limbs pinned to her sides and unable to move. Light slowly began to pierce the thick shroud of twilight, thin slivers of white spreading blindingly throughout. Ameenah's eyelids fluttered erratically before finally opening. They shut tight again a moment after that, a rasping groan rising from her parted lips. Dry. Her throat, her mouths, her lips; they all felt so dry, feeling like they had been deprived of water all their life. Her tongue gently prodded at her lips but no moisture came, still dry. A low hum of discontent reverberated through her entire body, finishing at her lips with another quiet moan. She opened her eyes again and tried to survey her surroundings, instead seeing nothing but fuzzy white light with a few imperfections here and there. It took several more tries of squeezing her eyes tight to bring about a few tears before she finally could see.

Plain white walls and the strong smell of antiseptic and medi-gel. Hospital. Her mind was racing, eyes soaking in the rest of the room and groaning softly as her head turned to the side. The electronic door had been shut, the red light glaring at her from across the room. Her neck made it's distaste at being moved known, a muscle spasm causing her breath to catch in her throat. She turned her neck back to the position it was once in, tilting her chin down and looking down at her body. Old school medical supplies monitored her, however they were doing their job nonetheless. A white pulse oximeter was attached to her left finger, part of her hand exposed while the rest was wrapped in white bandaging. IVs ran from her arm, out of her range of sight, probably providing her body with fluids and basic nutrition. Her omni-tool had been removed from her wrist, a white inpatient bracelet detailing all her information. Squinting slightly she read over her basic information. Her eyes grew ever so slight wider, the outside sounds of machines dying out as she stared at the hospital she was currently located at. 'WRNMMC'.Walter Reed National Medical Center, one of the oldest military hospitals in the United States. Her jaw slackened, before quickly shutting as she bit down on her bottom lip hard. She was on Earth, she had somehow made it back to Earth. Tears burned in the corner of her eyes, her heart beat steadily rising as a shuddering sob fell from her lips. She was alive. She was alive and she was on Earth and she hadn't broken her promise. Letting the full weight of her body press into the pillows and the thin cushion of her bed, tears of happiness and disbelief and exhaustion rolled down her cheeks till they found refuge on her neck and the pillow below. The tears that had eluded her before suddenly found themselves unable to stop, even as the door to her room opened. She had kept her promise. Spirits, Goddess, Arashu, she had actually made it. She hiccuped painfully, her throat convulsing slightly as it was still deprived of moisture and was protesting the abuse it was currently undertaking. It took Ameenah far longer than she would have liked to raise her hand, the limb moving as if it was pushing through molasses and feeling like her joints had rusted with misuse. Her fingers sloppily pushed away tears, her vision not completely clearing as she stared up at her doctor. She knew the image she was presenting must have been ridiculous. Commander Ameenah Shepard, youngest N7 in Alliance history, sole survivor on Akuze, saviour of not only the Citadel but the entire universe, sat in her bed sobbing like a child who had lost her mother. Her doctor was a lean, older White woman, her brown hair beginning to streak with gray. Thick, red rimmed glasses sat on the tip of her nose, a data pad held loosely against her chest by one arm. Her other was outstretched towards Shepard, gently laying itself over her hand and smiling a quiet smile. The other woman didn't say anything as Shepard's tears kept coming, not even as they started to slow and Ameenah's breath was lost in a fit of coughs. The doctor simply walked away before returning with a cup of ice.

Her bed was suddenly being repositioned so that she was sitting reclined rather than flat on her back. The doctor motioned to the cup of ice in her hand, placing it lightly against Ameenah's lip, an ice cube falling into her mouth. Ameenah sucked hungrily at the ice cube, her mouth and throat feeling sweet relief from the cold water. All too soon, the ice dissolved in her mouth, quickly being replaced by another from the doctor. This process of rehydrating her mouth and throat went on for several minutes before Ameenah felt that she could finally speak and breathe without feeling like her throat was full of sand.

"Thank you."

Ameenah's voice was still weak, her words soft, hushed, barely rising above the sounds of the monitors next to her. Using the back of her hand to awkwardly wipe away at the tears before dropping her hand lightly to her lap. The task of moving was no longer a Herculean feat, but she felt as if her strength was already depleted, her body trying to coax her back into rest. No, she didn't want rest for now. She just needed a few answers, just a few and she could feel alright. Her tongue darted out and licked her lips lightly before pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, her thinking habit coming out.

"My name is Doctor Amanda Farris", the woman answered simply, placing the cup on the stand at Ameenah's side. "I have been-"

"Are the Reapers dead", Ameenah questioned quickly, swallowing hard.

"The Reapers have fallen", Farris answered simply, a small smile creasing her lips. "It's been three weeks since then, and I've been in charge of your care since you were transported back to Earth."

"Transported to Earth", Ameenah mimed softly, brow furrowing as she looked at the other woman. "Where was I found? The Crucible blew up and I'm pretty damn sure that I blew up with it."

"Well I'm not sure about exact location but you were found amongst the rubble on the Citadel", she answered simply before setting the datapad down on the bedside table. Leaning forward, she began peering over Ameenah, making quick mental notes. Other than a slightly elevated pulse, for the moment she was fine.

"Wait if you found me", she murmured, more to herself than to Farris, her eyes locking with the woman's as she moved back. "Have you found Anderson? Is he alright?"

Farris' lips pulled tightly into a line, a look that had passed one too many doctor's faces in hospitals.

"I'm sorry", she started, straightening her back slightly. "We recovered Anderson's body last week."

Ameenah bit down hard on the inside of her bottom lip, emotional pain making itself physical as it surged through her chest. Swallowing hard, she shook her head slightly, refusing to cry yet again, releasing her lip from the vice grip of her teeth. Anderson had become a father figure to her over the years. Her father had been killed in action and David Anderson had been the consolation that both her mother and Ameenah needed. He had taken her under his wing; checking up on her in messages, taking her to combat simulators whenever they had shore leave together, teaching her the ins and outs of the Alliance and what they would expect of her. His loss would leave a painful hole in her chest but she wouldn't forget that she had passed, knowing that she had made him proud. She took another deep breath, closing her eyes for a beat before looking up at the doctor again.

"Is the Normandy alright?"

Her face had slipped into the Commander facade, the professional face mask slipping up to quell the storm that had begun to rise in her. Although just as easily as it had been slid on, there was a small chip forming as she watched Farris try and come up with an explanation. Ameenah studied her face, saw the other woman try pick and piece sentences together, getting rid of some words then picking others.

"Doctor, is the Normandy alright?"

Her voice came out as a breath, the air making the words light but ending with a sharpness. No, she didn't want coddling right now, she didn't want to be tip toed around. Not when it was about the fate of her ship and crew. She was her Commander and she'd be damned if anything would be held back on regarding the Normandy. Her eyes steeled as she stared at Farris, forcing the other woman to finally cough up the information.

"We don't know Commander", Dr. Farris answered, words quick, hands finding themselves behind her back.

That had not been the answer that she was expecting, a silent shock playing on her features, her jaw slackening slightly before it tightened up.

"What-what do you mean?"

Her question was shaky, confusion twisting her features. That had not been the answer she was expecting with the conflict she had watched Farris go through. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the other woman, a slight suspicion rising in her.

"The Normandy and most of the vessels went to the rendezvous point before the Crucible fired", she answered. "However, the Crucible knocked out the relays and with them most forms of long distance communications. Ships have been trickling in, however the Normandy hasn't been amongst them. It's been reported that they have faced some damage, however I'm not exactly aware of the extent. Several alliance vessels have been landing on the near by airfields but that is all I really know, Commander. Any information we receive is by trickle down.

A surge of warmth filled Ameenah, her fingers lightly squeezing then releasing the sheet that covered her body. They were alright, her ship had made it. Damage was something that they could take care of, something that she knew they would fix and then they would be home. She knew her crew, she trusted her crew, they wouldn't fail at the last stretch. Gulping, she forced down the images of the injured Tali and Garrus, their faces contorted with anguish. No, Chakwas was the best, their weaves had been in place and they would make it through this dammit. They would come back fine, they all might be a little worse for wear but they would be fine. He would come back to her, just as they had promised. A slow smile grew on her lips as she stared at Farris, exhaustion reminding her again that her body was not fully healed. She was already in the hospital, she could find out what was ailing her when she woke up. Her smile continued to grow wider as she looked at the doctor, warmth and thanks glowing from her gaze.

"Thank you doctor", she answered simply before feeling her eyes grow heavy. "Thank you so much…"

Ameenah gave into a sleepless dream, her mind quieted for once of all the stressors that normally harassed it.

"You ready Garrus?"

The message from the intercom barely registered with the Turian, his mind lost in the thoughts of what had happened over the past month. It had taken a full month to fully assess and fix all the damage that had come to the Normandy. The thrusters had been damaged, as well as damage to wiring and the Thanix cannon had almost been torn completely off. All able-bodied soldiers on the Normandy worked tirelessly to get things fixed; soldiers doing the heavy lifting, engineers fixing things and instructing those around them. Tali had spent an entire week and a half in the medbay before being deemed to be ready to help by Chakwas. She led the engineers in most of their repair work, pointing from the sidelines and at times going into the small crawl spaces when she could trust no one else to do it. Traynor assisted with fixing any issues that had been brought about to Normandy's computer systems, smoothing out any issues that had arisen from the loss of EDI. She worked tirelessly trying to reboot EDI's systems however whenever the program had begun to reboot, it simply crashed again. As good as she was, Traynor was beginning to lose hope in her own abilities, at least at the moment. EDI was her friend and she would never give up on her but for now...she was gone. Joker had taken her loss eerily well. He was still the wise cracking, smart ass he always was. Chakwas watched him closely, could see the haunted look in his eyes. But just as he had dealt with Shepard's first death, it was best not to push him. He may have been crass and he may know everything about most of the crew but he was not one to expose himself publicly. Sympathy was an insult to him. Garrus understood that. So many of them had seen the fires rip through the Crucible before they sped off to the relay. Saw the explosions that began before red had begun to overtake it. There was no doubt to so many that she was dead. Coming back from the dead once was nothing short of a miracle funded by billions of credits. But twice? As much as people would believe that she was some sort of god, Garrus knew that she still was a woman. Powerful, strong, but still human. She had her suit, and medi-gel and her weaves but that had been a full-frontal explosion. Garrus had been over the odds again and again but the chances of her actually surviving had been so thin. How could she have survived this, even if he had made her make that impossible promise?

Garrus' talons traced lightly over the letters engraved into the plaque, the metal cold under his warm fingertips, his visor glowing brightly against the muted metal. 'Commander Shepard'. It was almost laughable how even in death people dare not speak her first name. Except for him. Using her first name had always been a way to capture her attention; the first time he had said it she had blushed and every subsequent time it was a way to stop her in her tracks. She'd blush or shiver or just give that little smile that warmed Garrus to his core. She'd wrap her arms around him and place her face against his neck and they'd talk for hours. That was one thing he loved about her, one of the many. They could talk for days about everything in the galaxy; the future, differences between spacer and planetside life, their favorite foods, their pet peeves. A pained keen forced its way up from his throat, his subvocals thrumming with barely contained pain. At times he could swear that he still heard her voice at night, talking until her words turned into mumbles and then she'd fall asleep. Rolling the plaque within his hands, Garrus pushed up from the edge of Shepard's bed, weakly pulling his gloves back on. They would come to the memorial as they always had. Formalities would not have fit this kind of situation, Shepard would have scoffed at them wearing dress blues and formal attire to her funeral. No, she always wanted them to come as theywere, be comfortable;she had always accepted them for who they were and wouldn't want it any other way. That's why the Normandy had been a little slice of home for them, Shepard made it that way.

His steps towards the door faltered as his eyes fell over their room, still looking like she had just left the room. Shaking his head again, he cleared his throat as he glanced at the mirror, one last look before he joined the others. He looked tired, his mandibles pulled tight to his face, plates looking a little worse for wear. His colony markings needed to be touched up, but that hadn't been pertinent during the war. Shepard had traced them at nights and told him that whenever he decided to get everything touched up, she wanted to come with him. She was fascinated by so many of the things that humans had just ignored or became indifferent to. She loved to run her fingers over his fringe, tease his throat and cowl with gentle kisses. She knew that Turians weren't all metal, they were leathery, hard but pliable. That was their little secret, a secret that he shared with her, and she took advantage of whenever she pleased. Spirits, he couldn't stomach the thoughts running through his head, the vivid memories rising to the surface. Garrus tore his eyes away from the mirror and began to walk towards the elevator. His steps were heavy, listless, the sound of his armor echoing through the room only confirming what was going to happen was going to happen. He twisted the plaque in his hand, the small strip of metal feeling heavier than his Widow, the metal catching the light of his visor and glinting up at him with each turn. He knew that as soon as he stepped into the elevator he was in for a long ride. He had always wanted to re-calibrate it but could never find the free time. Spirits how he wished he had found the time. But that was something that they had always been running short on. Time. Garrus' eyes slipped close, the warmth of memories swirling around him.

'We're going to retire somewhere warm and tropical and live off of the royalties from the vids'

He watched a smirk grow on her lips as she listened, arms crossing slowly over her chest. Spirits she was gorgeous when she did that. He knew that normally a full smile would have broken out on those lips of hers but this was the final push. And getting even a smirk out of her was beautiful.

'Maybe even find out what a Turian-human baby looks like.'

Her eyes widened slightly, her lips twitching into that giddy grin she'd try and hide. It was a small smile but the way her bottom lip trembled, oh that means he had hit a soft spot just right. He could feel happiness swell in his chest, an unspoken promise of the future saved for one another. Somehow with her, even when he was stammering over his words, he could find the right thing to say and that is something he was damned proud of.

'I'm game. Although I think adoption is a better idea. Biology may not cooperate'

She was leaning back on her foot and giving that cocky smirk. Oh, she knew that he had broken through that little barrier she had put up before the battle but she wouldn't let him have all the fun here. A blue blush burned slightly at the back of his neck at the response, a quiet chuckle dual-toned chuckle leaving his mouth plates. He swaggered forward, meeting her and closing the distance between them.

'Huh, I guess there will be a lot of little krogan around soon.'

His eyes were shining with mirth, trying to loosen her up. Oh, he fully understood the severity of the situation, but as he had told her within the confines of their room, he expected the worst while hoping for the best. He quickly watched the light dim from her eyes as she broke his gaze though, staring out the window and to the darkened, war-torn skies.

'We just have to beat the Reapers first...'

Her could feel the moment slip away, already lost, a frustrated growl vibrating in his chest yet not rising loud enough for her to hear. No, he wouldn't let her slip into this, not right now.

'James told me there's an old saying here on Earth. May you been in Heaven half an hour before the Devil knows you're dead. Not sure if Turian Heaven is the same as yours, but if this thing goes sideways and both of us end up there meet me at the bar. I'm buying.'

She stared up at him, a complex set of emotions rushing over her features before her brow furrowed, a small shake of her head denying what he had just said. A slight resilience had come back to her features, a simper replacing the serious look that had once been there.

'We're a team Garrus, there's no Shepard without Vakarian. So you had better learn to duck.'

The sudden ding of the opening door made his eyes snap open, shaking his head slightly and blinking a few times to dispel the images. Liara, Tali, Javik, Ashley, James, and Joker all stood there, faces somber, heads bowed. This was a small ceremony of those that were closest to the Commander, the formal ceremony for the rest of the crew would be held later. This was just as much for them as it was for her at this moment. Tears stained Liara's cheeks, a hand lightly pressed to her lips to quiet the cries that threatened to echo within the halls. Quiet, ragged sighs from Tali's filter let exposed that she was crying as well although she would deny it. No one would blame the girl for crying though, Shepard had always called her the little sister she always wanted. Ashley's face was pulled into a tight expression, her eyes shut as she tried to ignore the finality of the situation; James' hand laid lightly on her shoulder, an attempt at a consolation to the younger woman. As large as the man was, however, it seemed as if he was trying to shrink away from this, from yet another 's body almost bowed in upon itself, his arm holding to his other, looking down at the ground. His hat was pulled over his eyes, his body rocking from side to side. Garrus made the few steps between the group and stared at the memorial. His head drooped, staring down at the plaque again, his talons tracing the letters for what seemed like the millionth time. His eyes drifted up towards the memorial, his legs feeling as if his boots were filled with cement. Again, he stopped and stared intently at the plaque, his eyes slipping shut, listening to the movement in the background. A quiet sob from Liara, a broken breath from Tali. Ashley clearing her throat, and James loud steps moving closer. Joker stayed silent and Javik's armor clicked as he prepared for a proper salute. Garrus' eyes opened, his head slowly rising as he stared at the wall. No, this wasn't right. She had promised that there would be no Shepard without Vakarian. She had swore to him that she would come back safe. Would he suddenly believe her to be untrustworthy after all they had been through? No, he would dishonor her by doing this, he couldn't do this until the body was in front of him. If they never found one then dammit he would spend every day looking until he found her. His mandibles flared slightly as a soft chuckle fell from his lips. Shaking his head, he took a step backwards away from the memorial and broke the piece of metal in two. He could feel the shock as he stepped into his friends, shaking his head yet again. No, she wasn't dead, she had promised. He wouldn't believe her of distrust now, when she needed it the most.

Holding the two pieces tight within his talons, he nodded at his friends and their stunned expressions turning into smiles. Tali's moved forward, placing her hand on Garrus' shoulder and rewarding him with a watery, narrow eyes smile. James' heavy hand fell upon his back before he felt a quick, tight embrace from Liara. Ashley rewarded him with a nod of approval and a small smile, leaning lightly against the beam next to the elevator. No, they wouldn't let go of their Commander so easily, they just needed someone to breathe hope into that thought.

"Well", Garrus drawled quietly, his sub vocals rumbling with an ardent happiness. "I think it's time that we get back to Earth. You know Shepard doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Shepard's hands tugged lightly at the mess of curls on her head, tangled and singed, uneven. She had gained more strength over the past several days, but she still wasn't allowed to be unmonitored if she left her bed. Her legs were still weak, damaged muscle and bones, mended but not able to sustain activity for too long. The nurses had acknowledged her want for more freedom, however she was still placed under restrictions. She had not been too happy over the fact that she had to receive a sponge bath the first day she was conscious, simply for the fact that they didn't want her re-injuring her arm. Her bandages had been removed and now her skin apparently needed to 'breathe' as she had been told by several of her nurses. It would speed the already accelerated healing process. Shepard would spend hours staring at her skin and messing with her hair. She was dual-toned now, parts of her skin a fleshy pink-tan color. It was smoother than her skin had ever been, feeling almost like a child's skin. They told her that skin weaves would return her skin to what they once had been but for now, she was still healing. Her hand slowly reached up to her shoulder, slipping under the gree medical gown and touching the raised burn marks on her shoulders. Her armor releases had melted together, searing through her undersuit and into her skin. Her back had several similar marks, small but raised scar tissue littering her skin. The back of her hand grazed her hair, her fingers travelling back up and messing with the damaged hair. It was hard, brittle and straw like now, the sienna curls often breaking off into her hand if she pulled too hard. Several inches would have to be chopped off, but it would still hang right below her ear. Nibbling lightly on her lips she wondered how Garrus would take this, take much of her new appearance. Wincing slightly, Ameenah pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around her thighs. She could feel her thighs slimming, but so was the rest of her body. Her hip bones were beginning to peek through her skin, not dramatic but noticeable. Her rounded hips still held a curve but the meat and muscle that had once made them voluptuous had slowly been skimmed off. She wasn't being starved, no, they fed her nutrient-dense MREs for breakfast every morning. That was the best they could manage; a meal that would supply all her daily nutrients while supplying enough calories for a regular person. However, her biotic metabolism would burn through the meal by half day and she wouldn't dare ask for another meal. No, she would be perfectly fine with that, even if it meant losing weight or being slightly hungry. Ameenah placed her head lightly against her knees, staring out the window at the spots of lights glowing in metropolitan city sat just outside of Washington DC, one of the greatest tourist attractions in the United North American States. Shepard had learned that at a time, DC had been the most powerful city in the world. However when the three formerly separate countries; Mexico, the United States and Canada, combined they moved the nation's capital to Vancouver. That was the powerhouse city; the center of human political, economical and military power. Although, simple population numbers alone made both Bethesda and DC major targets in the war. Ameenah could still see fires burning from the semi-demolished cities, huge funeral pyres making it glow even late into the night, dimming only before dawn. List after lists were made of the names of those lost, the ones with identification. Others had to be buried and burned without name; the risk of disease demanding the need to quick funerals.

Ameenah's arms wrapped around herself slowly, her skin pulling and bones protesting at the movement. She ignored the slight pain in her body and tilted her head back. Death was something that came hand-in-hand with combat, something that she was no stranger to. This kind of death ate at her though. civilians pulled into a war they had no option of being pulled into. Escape had never been realistic with the Reapers; refugees ran to one place that had yet to be hit only to find the Reapers hot on their tails. They had to either pick up and run again or accept the fact that they were going to die. Cities like this, they were filled with innocents who didn't even have a warning before being decimated. Just one morning they went about their business and suddenly they had death raining down upon them from the skies. Indiscriminately killing everything organic, for the sake of order. It wasn't right, nor was it fair but that was how the Reapers fought. They orphaned children or stole their young lives away from parents, killed entire bloodlines while injuring and maiming those left behind with wounds that far surpassed physical. People were desperate for stability, desperate to find friends and family or simply needing food, water and shelter. The hospital had become a shelter for the homeless, for the injured civilians and soldiers that were found and brought in every day and the epicenter of where food was locally. The Alliance had protocol for situations like this, set up camps to care for the injured that needed immediate care and transport those who could to the nearest medical facility. Rations for civilians would be provided to civilian and medical support and would be passed out in a organized manner; focus on children and pregnant women first, then trickle down from there. She was receiving special treatment, at least in her eyes. She was injured but it was no longer grave. She should be out there helping, at least within the hospital walls. She was no nurse but moral support and meal deliveries was something that was always needed, wasn't it? Still, her nurses told her no, to focus on her recovery, that she had helped more than enough. It was time for her to rest, to recuperate and let them take over. Her eyes travelled from the burning city and up towards the sky, stars shining boldly against the darkened skies. More and more ships were landing daily, arriving near major cities and military installations all over the world. With them they brought more hands to help rebuild and find those lost, more hope to citizens internationally who seemed lost. Even as happy as Ameenah was, hearing the sounds of happiness that came from the nurses stations, she still hadn't heard the name of the ship that could breathe hope into her.

"I miss you", she murmured to herself, a quiet ache growing in her belly. "I'm worried about you. About all of you. Where the hell are you?"

Shepard's entire body jumped, reaching for a sidearm that wasn't there and trying to call biotics that were not going to respond in this state. She had been so startled by a simple knock on the door, she had been ready to attack, her heart pounding in her chest. A small cry of pain left her mouth as the rush of adrenaline left her body in a rush, falling back against her bed yet again.

"Come in", she murmured hoarsely, rubbing weakly at her aching forearm.

Her door swished open, Dr. Farris nodding her head apologetically, assuming the young woman was probably sleeping. Ameenah didn't feel it was right to openly voice that she was having issues sleeping, Dr. Farris had other patients to care for now, she didn't feel it was right to take up more of her time than she already did. Her doctor turned in the doorway, words too muffled to be heard before she walked into the room and smiled warmly at Ameenah again.

"A very important guest has come to see you", Dr. Farris answered simply before motioning for the person to come inside.

Shepard's body jumped in surprise before her back went steel straight, snapping to attention and raising her hand in a crisp salute.

"Admiral Hackett"', Shepard snapped out, her words light, the air forced out of her chest.

"At ease Shepard", he stated warmly, moving further into the room, looking over at Farris meaningfully. "It's great to see you, Commander."