"Admiral Hackett." He lowered the datapad that he was reading.

"EDI?"

"Dr. Tahlo has suggested that a research team be sent to the Crucible to have an analysis of the red wave it gave off; he also recommends that teams be sent to analyze the waves affect on a Reaper if it is not already being tested. Dr. Tahlo has a feeling that it there may be a correlation between what the waved did to the Reapers and what it did to other synthetic pieces. He is having some trouble managing the situation in the med-bay, Dr. Chakwas has declined in her condition and can no longer administer assistance."

Hackett grinded his teeth, "So what would you have me do?" His frustration and stress putting an edge on his voice.

There was a pause, "I am not really in the rank to give orders, sir." She said over the intercom hesitantly.

He sighed, "I'm asking for a suggestion, not an order."

Another pause, this time for longer, "perhaps request another research team to the Crucible and another to a dead Reaper? Have the asari from the research team in the main battery assist the medical team in the med-bay, as she has an adequate background to do so."

He shifted his jaw, "Make it so." He continued to read the datapad; pacing behind the galaxy map. Kelly and Traynor on either side of the controls, working on consoles leading to research sources for news feeds about the situation and detecting distress calls and placing them on the map. The galaxy on the virtual map was vibrant with red marks from all over the galaxy. On the datapad was an official Alliance report, detailed with numbers and descriptions of everything known to happen since the Crucible was set off. It missed mass amounts of detail as it was too early for a complete evaluation. A disclaimer showed at the top, that the Alliance's most secure, expansive source was not responding and seemed to have been affected and cut off from their information.

Using public omnitool data by pulse, an estimated two hundred eighty-seven million, three hundred thousand Alliance soldiers were killed from the fight and over five million from the backlash, while over ninety-three million of the nearly one hundred thirty million remaining Alliance personnel were still unaccounted for. The rest of the human race was harder to trace, as omnitools were not used by everyone, the overall human casualties reached nine billion.

Asari had bigger hit with ten billion four hundred eighty-seven million casualties, over four hundred million being from the backlash. Turians had almost eleven billion dead, around two hundred million happening after the Crucible was set off. Nearly four billion salarians were also killed, one hundred seventy-two million seemingly from the backlash. The krogan had over one billion, seven hundred thirty-two million casualties overall. Other species like the volus, elcor, and vorcha had casualties like three billion eight hundred ninety four million, one billion nine hundred sixty-nine million, and eight billion two hundred eighty-six respectively.

Overall, sixty-three percent of the entire galaxy's populations had been wiped out from the war and backlash, and billions more were under critical conditions from their wounds and… internal experiences. Reporters tried to evaluate patterns in who were affected while others were explaining what the infected were experiencing. Some spoke of major headaches, others of hallucinations and strange visions, and more advanced cases could not explain what they suffered from, but instead had a tendency to scream in rhythms and pitches far from their species' natural range. Asari that attempted to evaluate the psychological visions that the worst cases have been experiencing were prone to psychotic episodes afterwards, as well.

From all of the galaxy's understanding, the most that was known was that it must have been caused from the Crucible, and that it was psychologically contagious—among asari, at least. With this information, Hackett had informed those in the Med-Bay that the prothean should stop with his analysis of the infected asari; but Dr. Tahlo had advised that it may not be wise to disconnect the two when he was concentrating as he was.

They defeated the Reapers and all their forces, giving in to the largest amount of sacrifices that this universe has ever seen; creating unities and forces that were far stronger than any other war to date. The two strongest military forces working as one, as the two largest and most technologically advanced species stood side-by-side when once they fought over the very homeworld that they had been born to. Even then, casualties ranged to wiping out whole species, to leaving others in danger of extinction. Seemingly residing in a more horrific battlefield than any soldier could dare win a war—the mind.

Hackett turned to pace the other way, gnawing on the inside of his cheeks as he finished the report and moved to another by an asari Council Spectre. Usually he wouldn't trust an insecure source such as this one, but he needed a course of action. Species were dying out in what felt like a blink of an eye; colonies wiped out with every minute that passed. They needed to find an efficient way to stop it. At the top of this report was another disclaimer that her most reliable and protected source was not responding, and must have been affected by the same thing.

The Shadow Broker? Hackett thought to himself, then shook the idea. The Alliance Research Sector and this Council Spectre would never fall to such lows as to deal information from the Shadow Broker. It was only the stuffs of legends. No being alive could balance so much information between so many sources and still have complete security. Hackett relieved the lost strain of thought and continued concentrating on his reading.

Numbers.

Big numbers.

Even bigger than the ones in the Alliance report.

He checked the timing. It was released only forty-seven minutes after the Alliance report was released.

Minutes were passing by and all Hackett could do was read.

It ate at him.

With every passing moment someone important was out there dying-dying by the millions-and he could do nothing more than just scroll through his datapad and turn to pace the other direction. He dropped the Spectre's report and went to another, more recent and less reliable one.

Bigger numbers, same clueless reaction.

Next report.

Even bigger numbers, and a clueless conspiracy about how this must have been caused by Shepard and the Alliance in an attempt to take down species of power in order to step in as a martyr in control. The conspiracy theory continued to say that Shepard was still alive, but she was waiting for the masses to die off and panic to set in before appearing with a cure. He checked the author, name sounded krogan.

Hackett half wished the theory was true.

He continued to scramble along more reports, trying to grasp any useful information that may have something to do with what was happening. His head throbbed and he wondered if he was infected too. He felt his feet move faster and his breathing become more shallow as his eyes flew over the words in front of him.

"Admiral Hackett." The words broke his concentration, he held his breath and stood, "Sir, I've been organizing a database that accesses the reports we've been looking over." Hackett let loose his breath slowly and looked back at Traynor, "It's set up to automatically take new articles from the Extranet since twenty-four hours before the Crucible went off to now, organizing reported casualties by race and by time that it was reported. It also has a side-category for any keywords on what the author may believe to be the problem."

Hackett nodded, "Useful. How did you learn to do that so quickly?"

Traynor's eyes went dark for a moment, "Just something Liara T'soni taught me a while back..."

"Great, could you add in information from the newest census of all species before the Reaper War started, then get a range on the casualties of each species and try to get an estimate on the current populations of each species. I've got a feeling that a lot of power changes are going to happen once certain species comes to realize that there are more of them then there are of others, and I don't want to be blind sighted by that."

"Yes, sir, I'll put that in right away." Traynor replied quickly and orderly.

"Admiral Hackett," Kelly called from the console she was working on, "I'm receiving all kinds of reports from the team in the Crucible and the teams evaluating the engineers, the bodies, and the patients in the med-bay. They would like to share evidence and hypothesize with one another."

Now we're getting somewhere, "Perfect, tell the groups on the Normandy to meet in the war room on this floor, tell the Crucible researchers that we will contact them on the vidcom when we are ready. Have you heard anything from the team researching a Reaper?"

"No, sir, they're a smaller group taking on a larger task, even more so than the ones at the Crucible, I'm not sure how well things are going. The last I heard from them, most of them were called off to help in efforts to start the restoration process."

Hackett ground his teeth, "Damn it. How can they be so incompetent? Don't they know that this should take first priority? We shouldn't be allowed to rest until we find out what this is and how we fix it," he snapped.

"Sorry, Admiral, I'm only telling you what I heard."

He sighed, eyeing the galaxy map as it flashed red with all the distress calls, then he made his way over to Traynor, "Upload that program you made onto this datapad. Kelly," he pointed to her, "tell the teams that we're going to have a meeting in the war room. It's about time everyone gets on the same page." With that, he moved to the door that led to the war room, "Don't forget to get the engineers and N7 James Vega to come, too. Bring me that datapad when you're done with it, Traynor. The two of you should come, too. I want every mind working on this together."

"Yes, sir." The two women said almost in unison.

Hackett disappeared behind the door and put his hands behind his back, waiting for the scanner to do its work. Then he realized that it wasn't running, cursing under his breath as he manually set it off. There was usually someone here to man it, but apparently they were laid off from all that had happened. He stood through it before making his way into the war room. A woman was sitting on the main console in the middle weeping softly, while two other figures stood over her.

"Engineers Kenny Donnelly and Gabriella Daniels." Hackett interrupted, one of the figures stood at attention and saluted at his approach, the woman tried to muster herself and get to her feet. The other figure straightened at Hackett's entrance. As he got closer, he realized that it was Shaylee from the medical team. He gave her a short nod and turned to the other two, "What seems to be the problem?" He asked as he eyed Daniels carefully.

"Well, sir… You see, Admiral… The two of us have really known the Commander for a long time, and…" Donnelly began, clearly unsure of whether he should continue saluting or not.

"SHEPARD'S DEAD!" Daniels suddenly screamed before collapsing into engineer Donnelly, hiding her face in his shoulder and chest, followed by muffled, whimpering sobs. Donnelly, unprepared for the sudden physical contact, gently placed his arms around his friend awkwardly. A rush covered Hackett's body from head to toe, a reminder of the dark new world that they were now forced to live in. He ground his teeth, keeping himself from becoming angry with the mention of her name.

"You see, Admiral," he started to explain in a lighter tone, "Gabriella and I have worked together for quite some many years now. We've been on a wide variety of ships with a wide variety of people, especially the captains. But Shepard, she was different. She took care of us, down by the drive core, she checked on us, talked with us, got us what we wanted to make our jobs easier… We owe her our lives, she saved us from the Collector's ya'know. She was a right, kind woman, she was. We'd seen her come back from the dead, and now… Well, now it's just a weird feeling whenever we think of her. We always thought she was invisible, but…" He drifted off, looking down at Daniels and rubbing her back slightly, trying to comfort her as she fell into a heaving fit between her sobs, "it's just… really different now." He finished solemnly.

"They're afraid with the symptoms that their feeling and the news they've been hearing, that everyone could be affected by whatever this is. She's worried with no one to clearly guide them, and to save them, that things will fall to ruin." Shaylee whispered to Hackett.

"I haven't heard back from my family, neither, Admiral Hackett. It really chills me to the bones." Donnelly added.

Hackett nodded sympathetically to the engineers. He was a soldier his whole life, feelings were not something he dealt with, "I understand your concerns, Daniels. And you, Donnelly. I appreciate all your hard work and efforts to ensure that this ship-and the Commander-work fluently and efficiently." He then nodded to Shaylee and turned to make his way back up the stairs as he heard the door open, "Now try to get yourself settled, we're going to have a meeting in here soon, and I need you both thinking clearly so we can try to get this whole thing solved."

"Yes, sir," Donnelly saluted as best he could with Daniels still crying into his chest. Hackett moved up the stairs with Shaylee at his side.

"Shaylee, if you would like to stay with them a little longer to get her comforted, you can. It's up to you. I'm going to discuss something with Vega before we start the meeting." He hissed under his breath before he got to the stairs to greet Vega as he watched the two engineers from the doorway. She nodded and returned to them, talking in a comforting hymn.

Vega saluted at his approach, "Shock wear off?" He murmured under his breath.

Hackett nodded, shifting a glance back at the two once more, "I guess the death of someone like that hits people in different ways…" he pondered, half to himself.

"Yheah, you should hear what they're saying about the Commander on the extranet."

"The Alliance-Pro-Human Conspiracy that's been floating around the krogan and vorcha?"

"Uh huh. Heard Wrex was trying to put a stop to it, said he knew the Commander first hand and she would never do such a thing. Bringing up all this proof about how open she was to all the races; krogan-turian alliances, quarian-geth alliances, her averring need to have several alien species on her ship, her personal relationship with a mate of a different species…"

"Oh, so he's using Vakarian as a pro-alien criterion on her resume. Well, I could think of worse things they could use that for." Hackett started to move to the vidcom room so they could let the mourners have more privacy.

Vega followed him in obediently, "Woah, woah, woah. Admiral, you're not saying that you disagree with Shepard's choice in man, are you?"

Damn.

Hackett turned to face Vega, placing his hands behind his back and standing tall at attention, "Vega, I wanted to discuss some very important business with you. Concerning your newly appointed position as N7 in the Alliance."

Vega's broad shoulders drooped and he leaned his hip and arm against one of the walls, "I understand, Admiral. I know the circumstances that the outcome of this war has caused…"

"Then you're aware of what I am about to ask of you?"

"Yes, sir." Vega didn't meet his gaze, instead, he turned to watch the lights flash on the opposite wall, "With Shepard's death, the ownership and command of the Alliance ship Normandy SR-2 falls back into the hands of the Alliance. From your obligation to speak to me privately about this, and your mention of my N7 position, you want to place the command of the Normandy in my hands." He met Hackett's gaze solemnly, something that surprised Hackett immensely, "Is this true?"

Hackett looked into his eyes for a moment, seeing within them that the death of his Commander had made a tough impact on him. Shepard wasn't just a figure that gave him orders and ran off on missions with a stuck-up turian who believed he was too good for the law; she was also a role model, someone that Vega had admired and looked up to.

Now she was dead.

Nothing more than a body beneath a black tarp.

She was not just a smart, loyal N7 who listened to what she was told and followed orders in the manner that she felt was best for the greater good. She wasn't just courageous, tough minded soldier who won each battle she was in with speed and wit. No. To the frightened people of Earth, she was a hero among monsters. She was a song to sing when they felt the most fear, bringing hope to their lives and hearts.

To Hackett, she was also admirable, smart, and a bringer of hope to the fearful. When he stressed over the pressures of building the Crucible and attempting to rein the galaxy's fleets into one force against the Reapers, she was the one who knew what to say just well enough to get everyone on her side. She was the real leader of the Alliance. She was the Alliance. A central point in which species across the Milky Way could box their weary hearts and minds, and be relaxed and relieved by her persistence and determination to make everything right.

She didn't deserve to die as she did. The Reapers didn't deserve to take her life for a second time. She left this curse upon the galaxy and rid herself from it to escape its horror.

The galaxy never deserved her in the first place.

Hackett ground his teeth and started to pace, "I already man a ship of my own, I am in no use of another. Since the animation of the first Normandy, the ownership of this ship has been passed down from Commander to N7, from Admiral Anderson to Commander Shepard… and now to you." He paced the other way, giving Vega a nod as he mentioned his place in the matter, "I need a clever, strong-willed Commander for this ship. I need someone who is willing to travel from one side of the galaxy to another for the Alliance, commanding a team through tough missions in order to keep the peace that the Commander worked so hard to achieve." He stopped in front of Vega and faced him directly, "can you do this for me? For the Alliance? … For Shepard?"

Vega looked at the floor, "Admiral, as much as I appreciate you thinking of me as a commander of the Normandy, I can't do it. I'm a soldier, I'm not a peace maker."

Just then, the door to the war room opened, and Dr. Tahlo and his team made their way in, Hackett exchanged a glance with Tahlo for a moment before looking back at Vega, he started for the war room but paused at the entrance, "That's what Shepard told Anderson when he handed her command of the Normandy, and look what she did with it." He looked back over his shoulder, "think about it."

With that, he walked out of the vidcom room and out to meet with the medical and research team.

It was time to bring an end to this problem once and for all.