Bakara woke with a headache that rivaled a hangover from only the most copious amounts of Ryncol. Thankfully the light was dim and she took her time sitting up to avoid worsening the effects. Qrrash was seated on a stone bench beside hers and she saw many others just like it as she looked around the large open cavern. Hundreds of Krogan were in the various stages of wakefulness, and there were nods of satisfaction when her recovery was seen by all. They had survived, but at what cost?

She spoke as carefully as she had woken, testing the pain factor, "Qrrash. What has happened?"

The head of her Security force rose and sat beside her to better answer her question without speaking loudly, "Urdnot Bakara, it is good you are awake. We are still underground, obviously. We do not appear to be prisoners, but I am not certain of our location," His massive head lifted at the sound of an explosion in the distance, "It seems there is still fighting, but not near us."

Bakara needed information quickly, but didn't want to send anyone useless outside of this room. "What is our readiness?"

"We have enough for a scouting team by now I think. Whatever took our senses seems to wear off after a half hour of waking, but most are weak as mewling varrens until then," he lifted up a shotgun and used it to point to a pile of other weaponry near one of the three exits, "It looks like someone saved our hides."

She understood. Every part of her felt horribly burned, even though there was no wound. Even under the skin ached like fire, and that flame came and went as it willed. She nodded to the Krogan and forced herself to stand, "Find where we are. Find out who helped us. Then find the Salarian bastards who did this."

Qrrash turned and began shouting names and they answered, moving to his side one by one until he had a dozen or so. They all armed themselves and crowded around him, discussing their plan before filing out, prepared for violence.

Bakara looked at the stone bed she had lain on with consideration for only a moment, then she began barking for a Doctor. If whatever incapacitated them had affected her unborn, she would not rest until every Salarian died screaming.

Qrrash's squad traveled through tight winding tunnels for about ten minutes before recognizing a particular crossing of passageways that were beyond the throne room, deeper into the labyrinth. A few minutes more brought them to a small room housing undamaged communication equipment. He grunted, a smile splitting his mouth wider as he switched it on and heard his brethren's battle chatter.

"This is Urdnot Qrrash. Who is in charge?"

"Qrrash, you pyjak shit-slinger! You're alive!"

Qrrash's gravelly laughter echoed in the small room, "Brajon! Did you really think I'd let those sack slurping Salarians mount my head on a wall?"

"It's been radio silence for almost four hours! What's your status?"

"Bakara is alive and well. We're looking for some payback. What's happening on the surface?"

"We watched the Salarians try to regroup after whatever you did to their shuttles. Those wrecks must have sent a regiment of troops down to screaming hell before we showed up in force. They are withdrawing now, tails between their legs. We've nearly got the drop zone mopped up."

"Shuttles? What shut..."

Qrrash heard the shuffle of feet and the readying of weapons behind him in the hallway. They began firing and Qrrash dropped the receiver for his own rifle before he heard one of his men around the corner tell them to cease fire, "We do not mean harm."

Qrrash strode forward, pushing through the men crowding the entry to the comm room, only to be confronted with the last thing he had expected to see. A rachni soldier eased out from a side passage, its head as high as the Krogan was tall. It's thorax and body length made it roughly three times the size of the warrior, barely slipping through the tunnels with its girth. It's head lowered as if in homage and its antennae waved quickly.

The Krogan that had spoken did so again, a strange look on his face as a haunting melody filled the tunnel around them, "We bring greetings to you, enemy of old."

Qrrash's eyes went to the other Krogan around him and found his confusion reflected back at him. "What is this crap?" he said as he demonstrably ejected a thermal clip.

"You are well. This is good. We have shielded you from the corruptors," all eyes turned to look at him and he raised his hands to the ceiling, pointing the shotgun away from anyone and anything, "You have nothing to fear from us. Does your Clan Mother live?"

"Look, I don't care what you did. Release my man now or we'll end you!"

The blankly staring Krogan's eyes blinked and he looked around for a moment to grasp his surroundings.

"You alright?" the squad leader growled, his narrow eyes focused on the Rachni and watching for any excuse to pull the trigger.

"Yeah. Fine. They want you to meet the Queen," the warrior shook his head once and leveled his weapon back at the dark carapaced creature.

The Rach Warrior backed smoothly into the side passage and then crawled forward again in the other direction. Qrrash stood for a moment, indecisive, then shrugged before turning to the Krogan to his left, "Go back and report this to Bakara," then to his right, "Get on the line with Brajon and set up a meet. This, I gotta see for myself."

Bakara led the rest of the Krogan through the final stretch of tunnel that funneled into the throne room. The sight that greeted her eyes would stay with her for the rest of her life. Two mortal enemies who had slain each other in staggering numbers a thousand years ago stood quietly in groups, each considering the other. Some of the Krogan whispered amongst themselves, but it wasn't long before all eyes settled on her.

Behind the milling group of Rachni rose an enormous figure, her shadow dwarfing many of her children before her. It's long limbs, enormous pincers, and ponderous head turned toward the entryway as the Krogan began to file in. Dozens of compound eyes moved in concert as they found Bakara. A pool of tones and music filled the room in an alien crescendo, but tapered when it was clear the sound made them uncomfortable. Piles of the dead leaned against the walls.

Bakara stiffened as she saw one of the Cerberus soldiers move from Qrrash's group toward her. His face plate was smashed and his eyes sightless, but he shambled over to her nonetheless. Qrrash nodded when she looked to him and she held up a hand before her guards could raise their weapons. When the husk/man/corpse stopped, it spoke in a halting voice.

"You are the mother. You live. The color of your child is bright. This is good."

"Yes, the child will be fine," Bakara paused, "But why are you here?"

"We battle the machines with the Shepard. Many are wounded. Urdnot Wrex lets us rest until we can leave."

Bakara's eyes flashed at the words, and similar sounds of disquiet rose among the rest of the assembled Krogan. She held up a hand again to silence them, "Why did Wrex agree to this?"

The corpses' mouth worked for a moment before speaking, "Urdnot Wrex did not wish it. The Shepard sang of our loyalty and the silence that came from those who protected the Krogan birthplace. The ship in which I travel could not leave the system safely. Urdnot Wrex granted us ten planetary rotations for healing the ship. The Salarians came before the healing was done. We hid but we then saw the corrupted ones digging deep in the soil. Their discord disturbs us. They come to take you, to taint your song. To control your children. This cannot be. So we fight. We silence them all."

"You are the ones who defeated the Salarians and Cerberus?" she saw Qrrash's look, "Do you still have ships in orbit?"

"No, they are close. They are healing."

That didn't add up, "What happened on the surface? The ships that crashed?"

"The Crucible destroyed the Corrupters. The machines are dead."

"I don't understand. The Salarian fleet is destroyed?"

"No. The Salarians have fled. The Corrupters are no more, here or elsewhere."

Bakara's long scaly brow rose. Was it talking about Cerberus and the Reapers? Could it be? They had no word from Sol, "How do you know this?"

"My kin have seen it."

Joker was gloating about the landing. He was a hell of a pilot though, Ashley had to admit. He managed to put the Normandy down in a restrictively small area near to the repair facilities with a shredded fuselage and all its accompanying drag coefficients. Hopefully they would be able to salvage what they needed for repairs and locate a functioning fuel depot, though what they could do beyond that point was anyone's guess.

It was a balmy afternoon and the shifting breeze felt good against her cheeks. There was a lingering smell of fuel and smoke from what remained of the base but there were no open flames to be seen. She closed her eyes while facing the glow of Euler over the western horizon and embraced the warmth for a moment before taking a deep breath and turning to the assembled crew of forty-eight plus one Asari and one Quarian.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she said with slow deliberation, catching as many eyes as she could, "Welcome to Benning." The Commander gestured to the crumbled buildings and warehouses behind her, "As you know, this base was destroyed as the Reapers were closing in on Earth." She confidently stepped closer to them all, "It will now be our home. As you can see, we have a lot of work to do."

"We will be treating our current situation as a Rescue/Recovery mission. We don't know if there are any survivors on this planet or where they might be. We don't know what supplies remain intact for our use. We don't know for certain if any enemies remain. The reports we received before we lost communication suggest that all Reaper forces were destroyed or disabled. Until that is confirmed, we will consider every inch of this planet hostile and clear it by the book, starting with the repair depot. Petty Officer Sommers will be organizing details to that end and we will begin operations in one quarter of an hour."

The Commander noticed that Liara was distracted. While she couldn't blame her for it, they all were separated from their loved ones and homes. She needed to be engaged.

"Dr. T'Soni, I'd like you to coordinate the search for survivors. We'll need every other hand we can get on details. Monitor all communications and sensor equipment for signs of life." Tali looked like she was going to volunteer in her place, but Ashley already had plans for the Quarian, "Admiral Tali'Zorah, I'd like you to work with Lieutenant Adams on repairs. We are shorthanded and I know you will have an impact."

Tali dropped the hand she was raising and her helmet bobbed in a nod, "As you wish, Commander."

Ashley looked into each of the faces before her, "I won't lie to any of you. With the Mass Relay damaged, I'm not certain how long it will be before we can get back to Sol. We have to find a way to communicate with the Alliance first and that's one of our top priorities. We have what we need here on Benning to survive, that much I know, but it is going to take the best from each and every one of us to make it happen. We are our brother's keeper now in every way. If everyone does their jobs, we will all go home."

The crew stood silently, the obstacles ahead illuminated clearly for the first time. The atmosphere was somber, but Ashley saw the clench of jaws, the narrowing of eyes and felt the buoyance of determination take root.

"Adams, I want preliminary estimates on repair times by morning. Liara, work with Joker. The rest of you, dismissed."

Her eyes were blurring. Ashley hadn't written a complete sentence in over an hour but stubbornness brought her mind back to the report often enough to begin resenting the damned thing. Truth be told she wasn't certain they'd ever return home, making the entire exercise fruitless. She couldn't say that, though, and she'd be damned if she'd be a poor example for the crew. Without the rigors of military discipline to steady them despair would have free rein.

A glance at the chronometer made her sigh. It was clear this wasn't getting done tonight but sleep taunted her nevertheless; sleep and guilt over the casualties in engineering. She needed to walk. The woman stood and ripped her jacket from the back of the desk chair before striding to the door. The quiet order of the ship calmed the pace of her mind, the lighting dim both within the ship and outside the viewports. Drowsy. Safe. She wasn't alone in her need, greeting several off-shifts in addition to the night crew. She did her best to lift their spirits as Shepard always had when morale was low. When she felt like she might be able to sit without spontaneously combusting she turned her steps back to Shepard's quarters. My quarters, she corrected herself.

Stepping into the elevator brought the realization that sleep was still beyond her; the events of the day simply had her wound too tightly. Maybe her Mother's time-tested warm milk remedy would help. One floor up brought her to the mess and the sight of a blue skinned woman seated in misery at one of the long tables. A cup of something that still gave off half-hearted curls of steam sat untouched before her and her forehead was cradled in the palm of one hand.

Ashley's first instinct was to avoid being seen. She and Liara had never really gotten along. She simply didn't understand the Asari; they were from different worlds in more than a literal sense. A deep breath later she was moving to the mess, letting Liara think she had gone unnoticed. As she poured, the voice she expected spoke, "Commander."

Williams looked at Liara and gave a smile of recognition before picking up her cup. "Can't sleep either?"

The doctor shook her head mutely and Ashley walked over to take a seat across from her. She sat there quietly, trying to find something to say. Liara had clearly been crying but appeared calm now.

"I'm sorry," she said sympathetically.

Liara shook her head slowly, "An apology is unnecessary. You had no control over these events."

"I know. I just... I know how hard this must be for you," she offered, "She means a lot to us too. You know that."

Liara nodded but said nothing further. The silence stretched and they both stared into their cups awkwardly. Finally Liara asked, "How are you handling things?"

"Fine," she replied, covering up the truth with a sip of milk.

Liara watched her closely, so closely Ashley felt her cheeks warming with embarrassment. "You hide it well," she said simply, then smiled, "You performed admirably. We are all alive because of your quick thinking."

"Not all of us," she replied somberly, looking intently at the tabletop.

Liara watched her again thoughtfully before breaking the growing tension, "It is good that you care for your people, Commander, but don't belittle their sacrifice by taking their deaths upon yourself. You accomplished your objectives but encountered unforeseen complications. You did not choose for them to die."

Ashley hesitated before speaking her mind. "No, I didn't," she said slowly, meeting Liara's eyes, "But I find myself wondering if the trade was worth it."

"Their lives for EDI's?" Liara asked curiously, "Why?"

"She's a computer program, obviously. They were people. We don't even know if we can fix her, and two people are dead. We left our fleet in the middle of a fight and now we might never get home. When I do the math it seems pretty clear I made the wrong call."

Liara tilted her head, "If you truly believe that, why did we leave?"

Ashley looked away, conflicted, "It was an emotional decision at the worst possible time. I can't afford to be emotional in my position."

Liara's eyes softened, "On the contrary. Without emotion, we have nothing to fight for. If you felt emotion for EDI then you don't really think she's just a computer program. You think she is a part of your crew and you defended her once your primary objectives were accomplished." Liara chided her gently, "You don't honestly think your people believe you made the wrong choice, do you?"

"No," Ashley replied after a moment of reflection, "But I've had some experience with perception from upstairs, if you take my meaning."

"I do," Liara responded before adding tentatively, "Shepard has told me of your struggles with Alliance leadership. I hope that her confidence in me doesn't upset you."

Ashley sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. It did bother her a bit, but she needed the advice even if she already knew the answer. "It's fine. To be honest, I'm talking about things I really shouldn't because I know you had Shepard's ear. If she trusted you, I know I can."

That earned a smile from the Asari, "Yes, you can. She was delighted to hear you had been chosen for Spectre membership. She said she knew you would be a candidate for this job the moment she met you on Eden Prime."

Ashley's lips twitched, "Oh yeah? All I remember is running for my life. Is that what got me promoted?"

The two chuckled amiably but Liara shook her head, her gaze turning inward with emotion as she spoke, "No, she said you were determined, resilient and resourceful. You didn't give up even when the colony was overrun, your squad had perished and the first Reaper ever witnessed in this age sounded its call. She said that was why they had chosen her and why they would choose you, someday."

Ashley swallowed in surprise and it took a moment to find words, "She said that about me?"

Liara nodded but appeared to be lost in melancholy.

"Hey, hey now," she said brightly, putting a hand over hers in support, "You heard what Hackett said, they're gonna put her back together. The whole galaxy's gonna chip in, right? That woman is indestructible! I bet she'll be up and around by the time we get home."

Liara blinked, coming back to herself with a glimmer of hope in her expression.

"You'll see," Ashley insisted, "Maybe just this once, Dr. T'Soni, Shepard doesn't actually need your help."

"Thank you. I certainly hope you are right," she said while picking up her neglected cup to peer into its depths.

Williams' mug made a pleasant sound as it struck hers, and Liara looked up to see Ashley feeling better as well. "To Commander Shepard. Long live the Queen."

Liara couldn't help but smile at that, and she drank.

The notes of a solo piano concerto climbed and fell in a cascade, echoing pleasantly in the small office's acoustics. Tasteful but spartan decor populated immaculate furniture surrounding the woman seated at a central desk. In the chaos only slowly being tamed outside the walls of this facility order was accordingly more precious. The luxuries afforded her may have been more dear than ever but they brought a clarity to her mind that was worth every credit. From this bulwark of normalcy she could process the enormous amount of information staring back at her from her wall of monitors. Here, she was free from the distraction of destruction.

Behind the woman hard at work was a large clear window into one of the only state of the art hardened facilities that remained on Earth, nestled in the mountains of Colorado. It survived the bombardment of the planet because it was partially underground, and what it lacked in views was compensated with hydroelectric power. The clean room, filled with technicians and doctors for days the week prior, was now silent except for the single occupant in repose upon the medical bed.

Miranda paused and stretched, curving her neck back over the headrest. She put down the pad filled with potential candidates and spun her chair to stand and stretch again. This was a nice tune. Mendelssohn, Song without Words. Her heels clicked slowly on the floor as she walked to the window, and she tapped a couple of keys on a panel there so that the music would also play beyond.

Lawson's blue eyes fixed on her friend fondly through the glass. She was battered, to be sure, but in remarkably better condition than the first time she had been brought into her care. After more than a week the bruising was healing nicely though traces were still visible on her face. The shrapnel had been removed and the damaged sutured to heal over time. It would take time, however. Normally the Commander would have been up and around in a matter of hours but no longer.

The technology that had been destroyed turned out to be an essential element of nanotechnology used to perform critical tasks within Shepard's body. These nanites acted as bioregulators, nervous system conduits and interfaces to the more traditional cybernetic technology laced throughout her. It was one of the most miraculous parts of the Lazarus rebuild and it leaned heavily on technology that Miranda previously assumed only Cerberus possessed.

It was reverse engineered from captured husks and tested on innocent prisoners like the ones on Sanctuary. She had seen the same tech used on Cerberus soldiers after the Normandy's suicide mission success and before her own departure from the Illusive Man's service. The effects on those soldiers correlated more closely to husks than what Shepard became, though. The fact that it was destroyed with the Reapers raised a number of frightening questions, the first being whether or not Shepard was somehow being controlled or influenced by it. The inevitable follow up was, if so, by whom? Her own question, had the Illusive Man known all along, would never be answered; his body had been found sprawled on the floor in the Tower by rescue teams.

Lawson had known Shepard for several years now and found her to be both compassionate and vengeful depending on circumstance. Her loyalty to everyone and everything that had a claim to it never wavered. She could be infuriating and stubborn, to be sure, but to Miranda's mind she had always been true to herself. With both the Reapers and Cerberus destroyed, the only person who now wanted to control Shepard would be Liara, if she still lived.

By all reports Liara and the Normandy disappeared just before the end of the battle. The destruction of the Mass Relay cut off the communication buoys that utilized it to transmit as well, which meant no travel and no communication outside of this system was possible. If the Normandy was whole as Miranda suspected, they were also stranded. It would take in the neighborhood of 5 years for their fastest ships to FTL to Arcturus from Sol, the very next hop. Without the Mass Relays and their constant flow of supplies and information things were going to get complicated for the galactic fleet in short order. Combined with the survivors on Earth there were close to 2 billion mouths to feed in system and a goodly percentage of that number in need of medical care and facilities. The ships that weren't protecting the planet from debris bombardment were serving as floating hospitals, all of them overpopulated. This meant that Shepard, who had been stabilized during her rescue, was of secondary concern in the grand scheme of things. Miranda had been charged with building a team to assist, and space had been arranged here while they transferred the data recovered from the Citadel to protected storage in the vast stone vaults beneath her feet.

Miranda exited her office and turned to the adjacent security door to register her palmprint. As her door closed the silence that coiled in the passageway reclaimed its domain, making her skin prickle. She purposefully didn't hurry to press her palm against the reader, but was pleased when the music of Tchaikovsky and the lights within spilled out and around her with the sliding of the doors.

"Good morning," she purred before moving to check Shepard's vitals. Medical equipment was performing most of the woman's biological functions but she checked each in turn for any untoward variation. There was none.

All of Shepard's sensory organs save her ears had been appropriated by cybernetic replacements and they no longer communicated with her nervous system. She had been trapped inside her body once the Crucible had fired; no longer able to move, feel, see or even breathe until the rescue team arrived and revived her. When Miranda first realized the horror that Shepard must have endured she leaned over and whispered to her encouragingly, It's alright, Shepard, I'm here. You are going to be fine. I want you to relax and go to sleep, and I'll wake you when you are well. She had been sedated ever since, but Miranda was sure to speak with her and to play music during the cycle of day, just in case.

"Good news," Miranda said calmly as she worked, "The data you preserved has the information we need to rebuild the relays. Only problem is that we don't have any way of getting the other relay repaired without actually sending someone via FTL." She kept talking as she slid Shepard's eyelid back to see if there was any change. Green artificial irises still stared blankly at the ceiling, the digital patterns created there identical to the blue ones possessed by the Illusive Man. "So...the fleet might be here for awhile. Garrus is with his people and says hello," she said with a smile, letting Shepard's eye slide shut. "He'll come and visit every chance he gets."

She hadn't mentioned those that were missing or dead. She would consider it later but for now thought it best to keep things positive. "You'll be pleased to know I found Jack," she said with a smirk before turning to enter notes into the log. "She and her students went toe to toe with Reaper heavies and lost. She was picked up and is in hospital at the moment. I suppose she's just too mean to die."

Lawson typed a few lines, then turned back to Shepard and tilted her head slightly so she could see the woman's face at a more normal angle, "Before you say a word, I actually plan on going out to see her. Shocking, I know. I can't do much here until my team is assembled and as entertaining as our conversations might be, I think she might need a little hate to get back on her feet." Miranda imagined how Shepard would react to such an idea and smiled at the words she could almost hear.

Be nice, Lawson. We've all been through hell these past few years.

"I'll be as civil as she will allow, don't worry. She doesn't deserve to be alone, no matter how much of a bitch she is." The passive expression on Shepard's face suddenly unnerved her, and she felt solitude sour within her as well, "No one does."