He didn't think Shepard was awake until she asked him to turn on the lights. Limping into the room, Vega leaned awkwardly on one crutch as he fumbled for the switch. The fluorescents cast a sickly yellow hue to Shepard's ashen skin. Shadows hugged to the sharp edges of her body, making her seem even more gaunt than she truly was. He hadn't thought that'd be possible.

But her eyes...her eyes were the worst.

Vega met them only a moment before he turned away, looking everywhere else and seeing nothing.

"That bad, huh?" If it weren't for the broken state of her voice he might have thought her her old self; there was the teasing tone, the exuberance for life he'd known.

"Pretty fubar," he said, trying for a smile. Swallowing a sigh, Vega lowered himself into the chair at her side.

Shepard's gaze followed him, watching as he leaned the crutches against the wall, trailed down his body to the 'walking' cast covering his left leg in neon green. "Not too shabby yourself."

"Don't flatter me, Lola, I'm nowhere near your level of beauty."

"Maki," she snapped, glowering at him. Her hands clutched at the blankets, the once steady beep of her heart monitor speeding. Vega stared at her.

Just as quickly as it'd come, the anger left and Shepard faced the ceiling. "Sorry," she whispered and closed her eyes. "Just...Maki, please. Not...Not that."

Vega's jaw clenched as he swallowed the first of several reactions to that. You deserve this, he reminded himself, this is your fault. "Sorry, Commander, it won't happen again," he managed to say. His tone must not have been as easy as he thought, for she looked at him again with a frown across her brow.

"Vega, I—"

"It's fine. I get it."

The silence stretched between them like a chord, until finally Shepard hummed her ascent. Her gaze fell once more upon leg. "How bad? Really."

"Just some scrapes. I'll patch up fine, don't you worry. Almost done, if you'd believe it."

"Like a potato?"

He snorted, "Like a Thanksgiving turkey. Main course all the way, chica."

"Now that you mention it, you do seem the turkey type." Her chuckle was cut short by a hacking cough that spasmed her body. He sat up, frowning, but it passed quickly and she closed her eyes. "Sorry. Throat doesn't quite..."

"Need water?"

Again she hesitated, her lips pursing and the tip of her tongue flicking over them. He reached over to the bedside table where a pitcher and glass had been left.

Putting most of his weight on his arms, Vega shifted over to sit lightly on the edge of her bed and hooked an arm about her shoulders to lift her. Even with his ribs bruised and protesting she wasn't much of a problem. It was hard to imagine this was the same woman who had knocked him flat the first time they'd had a real conversation.

He set the glass to her lips and carefully tipped it. Shepard drank greedily, sighing softly when it was empty. She looked away. "Thanks, Vega."

"De nada." When she was laying properly again he resettled in his own seat. "What about you? What happened up there?"

The light visible beneath the drapes gradually faded as night fell. Shepard remained quiet. Vega ran a hand over the back of his neck and head, through the hair which was growing gradually past regs. He was just about to reach for his crutches, certain she was asleep, when she whispered, "I died."

"Lola?"

With a gasp, she jerked, her eyes opening wide. Her head lolled to the side so she could stare at him, dark eyes confused and clouded with tears. "She isn't here."

He stared at the tear rolling down her cheek, for a moment refusing to register the flashing red lights or the wail of sirens. A shout from down the hall slammed him back to reality. Vega shot to his feet, hissed at the pain shooting through his leg and ribs, and grabbed his crutches.

At the doorway he stopped, looking each way down the empty hall. "Vega?" Shepard called behind him, and he frowned. He didn't have a gun, no idea what was going on, wouldn't be able to run or charge anybody. He was useless. Fucking typical.

"One minute, L—. Gonna see what's going on."

The doors at the end of the hall slammed open. Three orderlies trailed behind Miranda in tight formation, each carrying a cocked shotgun. She nodded when she saw him, and waved the orderlies ahead of her. "Get Shepard to the bunker. Vega, look after her."

"Hold up, what's going on?"

"I don't have—"

The look Miranda gave him was murderous, but he tightened his grip on her arm. "What is going on?" His jaw clenched. "If you expect me to protect her I need—"

"Reaper," she said, glancing past him to where the orderlies were disengaging the monitoring equipment. "A few clicks from here, coming in fast."

Vega frowned, letting her go. "I thought they were under ceasefire..."

"How long did you expect that to last, Lieutenant?" Miranda's hair flicked over his knuckles as she turned away. She unclipped a pistol from her hip, heading at a fast clip for the stair that lead to the base's main communications.

"Stop." The orderlies paused only momentarily, each glancing at Shepard before ignoring her entirely. "Stop! Miranda..."

"Miranda!" Vega limped after her, annoyingly slow on the crutches. She slowed, glancing at him, but did not pause. "Shepard wants you."

She stopped at the stairwell, lips pursed. "I don't...oh god dammit." Whipping about fit to give a man whiplash, the woman marched back their direction and past him to Shepard's room.

Growling in frustration, Vega turned as well and went after them again. He didn't hear whatever Shepard said at first, but he saw Miranda's back stiffen and her free hand squeeze tightly into itself. He sure hoped that pistol was on safety.

The orderlies had finished their work and were trying to wheel her out of the room when he reached it. Shepard's hand shot out, bony fingers clutching about Miranda's wrist, even as Shepard's face contorted with pain. "Promise me!"

"I cannot—"

Those deep brown eyes, the ones he'd put so much trust in him over the past year, turned to him, then. "Vega," she pleaded, "Just listen. Make sure she listens."

His brows furrowed. "Commander?"

"Go with her. That's an order, Lieutenant! Don't let her...let her..." Shepard hadn't noticed the orderly behind her, nor the syringe in his hands.

"Hey!" Vega's head jerked up and he stepped forward but another of the orderlies held him back as Shepard startled, fought, and finally fell into an unnatural sleep. With a gentleness at odds with what had just occurred, Miranda peeled Shepard's hand from her wrist and laid it gently upon the mattress. "What the hell was that?"

"She was distraught and we don't have time for it," Miranda said with a nod to the orderlies. They took the bed in hand and began down the hall with it. "Go on with them."

"Like hell." He lurched after her as she went again for the stair.

"You can barely stand. Do you think you'll have a chance against the reapers in your condition?"

"If that thing's attacking then we're all fucked," Vega replied, "A bunker isn't going to withstand their kind of weaponry and you know it."

She slowed at the stair and glanced at him before taking them two at a time. Bitch. Resisting the urge to curse, he threw one crutch down and kept the other as he mounted the stairs. Between the guardrail, the ability to put some slight weight on his leg, and the single crutch Vega eased himself up the three flights to the communications room.

When he arrived, most of the inhabitants were gathered around a single console stationed in front of a bank computer screens each the size of a regular window. Tali glanced back at him, waving him over.

The screens all showed the same thing: a reaper ship sinking its giant claws into the ruins of Merida, visible only through its own green lights and the base's highbeam security lights now pointed at its hull. Slowly, the cloud of resulting dust began to settle.

"Commander, I'm still picking up that hailing frequency. I swear, it's Alliance."

Vega lifted a brow at the title, but Miranda's eyes were focused on the screen nearest her. No one said anything; what need was there? There wasn't anything they could throw at it that would make a dent. A sudden feeling of hopelessness settled in the pit of Vega's stomach, a feeling he saw mirrored on the faces of everyone standing there. Everyone but Jack.

Lights flickered about her like a Tesla coil, more so than he'd seen on any biotic out of combat. She sneered at the screens, like she wanted nothing more than to launch herself right through the wall at the reaper. Tali hovered at her side, one hand reaching for, but not quite touching, Jack's wrist.

"We show the bastards what we got," Jack demanded, throwing an angry hand toward the screens. "Blast 'em from the city. Show them we won't be messed with!"

"They aren't attacking," Tali reminded her, though there was a tremble of anxiety beneath her voice. "Maybe they are trying to communicate."

Jack scoffed, a sentiment echoed by several others around the room. Shepard's plea rocketed through Vega's head as he stared at the ship. She couldn't have meant...could she?

"Miranda," he began. She shot him a look and he stilled.

"It wouldn't be difficult for them to use an Alliance call sign," Miranda said. As steady as her voice was, the crinkle at the corner of her eyes bespoke her hesitation.

"Should I respond, Commander?"

"They have to know we're here," said Tali. "We have those lights focused right on them. What else are they waiting for?"

"Maybe they just want to torture us," whispered a woman Vega couldn't place. She wore scrubs, and trembled as she rubbed one arm. Still, her voice was steady when she continued, "Maybe they're...they're tired of just destroying everything. They want to play games, like a cat."

He could see as the others began to catch on to her suggestion. The fear in the air was palpable. Too many people in this room had seen what the reapers were capable of, had lost friends and family, had seen the waves of desecrated corpses come at them with weapons and appetites. Still, Shepard's voice rang clear in his mind. And this kind of fear was not helpful.

"Open the comm channel."

The woman at the console swiveled backward to look at him. Vega looked instead to Miranda. Her lips were drawn tight, her gaze scorching...but finally, she looked away. "Open the channel."

"Aye, aye," muttered the communications officer.

The console chirped once, then static invaded the room. For a moment, those gathered looked at one another in confusion before a voice began to break through. "...ez...ookin...eas...nee...an hea..."

The communications officer punched a button, temporarily killing the static, and spoke into a mic, "Two by two, unknown, please repeat."

"...ck...Offi...ez...lliance military. Please respond, over." Tali and Vega glanced at one another.

"Five by five. This is Charlie-Oscar-Five-Zero-Nine, please identify yourself."

"Lieutenant Steve Cortez of the Normandy SR-2. Requesting parley."

"Cortez?" Vega barked, when the the officer went to respond. He pushed one of the others out of the way and slammed his hand down over the mic button. "Cortez, that really you, man?"

"Vega?" The response crackled.

Barking a laugh, relief flooded through Vega's veins for a minute. "Shit, man, we thought you were a gonner. What the hell are you doing in that thing?"

"I..." Static overlaid the connection a moment. "...Been looking for you. For Shepard. She is with you, right?"

Miranda's grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back from the console. "This could be a trick," she reminded him. "He's probably indoctrinated."

Reality stung as surely as if she'd slapped him. Vega stared at her a moment, then back at the screen where the reaper still hadn't moved. She was right, he realized. Steve was probably...

"Vega?" The radio fuzzed out again. "Please, I know you can hear me."

It was Miranda that pressed the button this time. "We hear you, Lieutenant. What are you terms?"

"Who—Come out. Let Vega come out to meet me. I'll be unarmed, he can bring as many weapons as he likes, armed escorts, whatever. We just want to talk."

Her brows drew tight as she replied, "Who are 'we'?"

"It's...really difficult to explain. We won't fire on you, won't offer any resistance. Just please, give us a chance. We just want to talk."

Miranda released the button. Rubbing the back of his neck, Vega leaned upon his crutch and tried to wrap his mind around this. It wasn't like Steve to beg. He wasn't the sort that would just roll over and take anyone's shit. And how did he even know where Shepard was?

"I don't see where we have much choice," Tali said into the quiet. She was staring at Miranda, but her hand had found Jack's wrist. To Vega's utter surprise, Jack hadn't thrown her off yet. "That reaper opens fire and we're dead, no matter what we do. We may as well hear what they have to say."

For a moment Miranda just stood there, staring at the button to the radio. Once again, the memory of Shepard's own plea rang in Vega's ears. He was just about to snap at Miranda when she nodded. "Alright. Vega, Tali, and I will go to meet Cortez."

"You think I'm just going to sit here—" began Jack, ripping her wrist from Tali's grasp.

"No," Miranda cut her off with snap, "You are going to protect her." Then, in a softer tone, Miranda added, "Please."

Perhaps out of agreement, but more likely from shock, Jack backed down. She hesitated, shifting lightly on the balls of her feet, then disappeared out the door. When she'd gone, Miranda went to a gun locker at the back of the room. Tali took her shotgun from her back holster as Miranda found a few extra clips for her pistol. "Vega, I very much doubt you can hold a gun and that crutch..."

Vega considered casting the crutch aside, taking up a gun, and telling doctor's orders to just shove it. Then he remembered how hard it was to get up those steps, how many times Chakwas had threatened him with permanent damage if he kept pushing his recovery.

"It's just Cortez," he said with an assurance he wished he felt. "Not going to be any shooting."

Across the room the officer punched the mic button one last time, "We're sending someone out."

Vega took center, Miranda and Tali flanking with guns drawn. Even from the ground he could hear the mechanical whine of the base's turrets riveting upon the blaze of light falling from the bottom of the reaper. Two small shadows descended slowly through it, not unlike the special effects from so many pre-space movies on earth.

Shaking his head at himself, Vega limped along toward the beam and tried not to think of doing something similar only a few months ago. Of the pain it had led to. At least he had Tali here with him this time, too. Still, it was strange to be the one in the lead.

The light disappeared with little fanfare, leaving behind a solitary figure on a pile of rubble just outside the perimeter fence. As they approached the automatic gates rolled open, and he heard both Tali and Miranda's weapons cock.

They crossed the distance by degrees, neither woman saying anything to Vega about how slow he was going though he could feel the annoyance radiating off Miranda like a wave. Finally they stopped, just within sight of Cortez.

Slowly, Cortez raised both hands to show that they were empty, but there was something wrong. The skin around Cortez's lips and eyes was drawn, his brow furrowed and shoulders squared defensively. He eyed the weapons they carried, and made no move to come closer.

"Man, you look like shit," Vega said the best smile he could muster. "Glad to see you, though."

"You, too," said Cortez. He glanced to his side, as though he wanted to look behind himself. The gesture was quick, like he hadn't meant to, and just as suddenly Miranda raised her pistol.

"No!" Cortez shouted and stepped in front of her shot just as the blast left the barrel. He stumbled, fell, leg bleeding. The husk behind him dropped as well, bending over Cortez, clutching at him. Cortez raised up enough to try and push the husk behind him again. "No, you promised!"

Vega grabbed Miranda's arm, vaguely taking note of the biotic energy bursting about her off-hand. "Miranda, he's in the way—" Vega slammed back into Tali; her shotgun went off, bullet bursting uselessly into the rubble near Miranda's foot.

Stumbling backward backward, Miranda lined up another shot but didn't take it. Vega stopped trying to disentangle himself from Tali, staring at the pistol Cortez had leveled at Miranda. "Cortez, you promised," Tali said faintly, her arms going limp about Vega's shoulders.

"So did she." Cortez was trembling, Vega noted, tears running down his cheeks. From pain or something else? The husk squatting behind him reached slowly out, putting its hand over Cortez's.

"It's okay, Steve," said the husk. "They just don't understand."

"Explain," Miranda spat as Vega's brain ground to a halt. A talking husk? No, that wasn't...wasn't possible.

"I will," the husk replied. It stood slowly, both hands raised in plea. "My name is Robert. Robert Cortez."