A/N: Thank you again, everyone, for your patience, and thank you for continuing to read this!


"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Zaeed."

The mercenary ran his fingers through his uncooperative grey hair. "I bloody hope it's worth dragging me out of bed at 0400 hours, Hackett."

"It is," Hackett replied with a smirk. "We're heading to the docks."

A glint of hope flashed in Zaeed's bloodshot eyes, but his only response was to nod curtly. Hackett spun on his heel to exit his office and Zaeed followed, more out of habit than respect.

Although it wasn't public knowledge, Zaeed Massani and Steven Hackett maintained an old friendship born from a youthful passion for mischief. They had attended secondary school together, their camaraderie forming quickly over a shared interest in guns and grenades. As they aged, however, a divide began to form. Zaeed was prone to trouble, getting himself expelled by the age of seventeen, while Hackett excelled in all of his classes and started on a path to success. As a result of his expulsion, Zaeed was kicked out of his home and turned to a life on the streets, quickly resorting to mercenary work due to his capabilities with a sniper rifle. Hackett on the other hand catapulted his way through military ranks, earning dozens of medals and honours on the way.

Their differences in lifestyle didn't change their friendship; they maintained contact throughout the years, Zaeed respecting Hackett's need for privacy and Hackett respecting Zaeed's need for secrecy. Never did Zaeed attempt to intrude on military affairs, keeping himself out of Alliance trouble, and in return Hackett turned a blind eye towards the occasionally gruesome side effects of mercenary work. However, if there was a line of information pertinent to the other, it would always be shared.

Now that the Reaper war was over and the potential for retirement hung over Hackett's head like a dark cloud, their dynamic of secrecy was shifting. Hackett requested that Zaeed join Coats in order to analyze his prospective replacement. He was pleased when Coats passed with flying colours, proving himself to be cool and analytical under intense pressure. Although Hackett didn't relish the inevitable idea of retiring to focus on his health, having a capable replacement made the transition easier.

"How's the Alliance?" Zaeed asked, his tone dripping with disdain. He had a way of speaking about any authority with a degree of disdain - except Shepard, of course.

"How do you think?" Hackett replied curtly. "Just as bad as last week, and the week before that."

Zaeed immediately realized from Hackett's tone that matters must have been progressing at a slower rate than he initially believed. "That VI-controlled ship didn't work?"

"It worked," Hackett admitted, "And the relays are officially operating at full capacity."

"Then why the expression like you have a goddamn stick up your ass?"

Hackett inhaled sharply through his nose. "It doesn't mean things are easy now, Massani. It means that I have a hell of a lot more work to do as we organize the evacuation of the krogan, salarians, turians, quarians, and asari to their respective homeworlds. That evacuation means the loss of millions of able bodies who were aiding with the repair efforts. We have thousands who are demanding news on their saviour, Shepard, and we have nothing for them. The cherry on the sundae is the politics: with the galaxy in shambles, the Council is banging down my door demanding we nominate a human councilor."

Zaeed's ever perceptive eyes narrowed. "I was under the impression the Council was dead."

Hackett's downtrodden expression brought a surge of hot guilt to the pit of Zaeed's stomach. "The Council received a warning five minutes before the Reapers took the Citadel. It was enough time to have them evacuated. Everyone else... wasn't so lucky."

"Christ," Zaeed whispered. "That's... millions. Billions."

"And the only thing the Council is worried about is making sure there's a human councilor to weather the political shitstorm with them," he said through gritted teeth.

"And you wonder why I got into mercenary work instead of goddamn politics."

In spite of the time, London's docking bay was abuzz with action. A salarian brushed past Zaeed, his nose buried in a datapad. A quarian couple barely avoided crashing headfirst into Hackett, sprinting after a tiny quarian boy. An asari soldier loaded a last crate into her ship before the door slid shut behind her. "This place is a bloody mess," Zaeed growled.

"To accommodate the influx of outgoing ships, we have them flying out at all hours." He turned sideways to avoid a krogan who barreled past them, shouting 'sorry!' over his retreating back. "They want to get back to their homeworlds and their families. In spite of how welcome their assistance was in rebuilding, they were a drain on our already strained resources."

Zaeed knew they reached their docking bay when he spotted the Alliance soldiers posted at its doors. It was a private bay, shielded from the curious eyes of onlookers. Both soldiers saluted at Hackett before stepping aside to allow him entry.

"It's empty," Zaeed grumbled. In response, Hackett smirked and pointed to the sky. The ashy smog covering the atmosphere had barely dissipated, and it left the sky so black the only visible points in the night sky were Earth's Moon and the North Star. When Zaeed narrowed his eyes to focus, he could just spot an incoming ship.

He quickly wet his lips. "Is that..." He trailed off, no longer needing an answer to his question. The sloped back, the forked nose, even the sound were all distinctive to that ship.

The Normandy.

"I can't fucking believe it."

Out of the corner of his eye, Hackett watched Zaeed's jaw drop and he could have sworn he saw his old friend's eyes grow damp. "Believe it. They're home."

Zaeed turned away from Hackett, angrily brushing away the hot tears that were forming in the weathered creases at the corners of his eyes. When he had joined his first mercenary group nearly fifty years ago, he made a promise to himself: no more attachment. Mercenary life meant being constantly on the move and jumping into the fire, and within that life there was no room for love or friendship. Steven had been the only exception to the rule as he proved himself to be the boulder keeping Zaeed tethered down as he was battered by endless storms.

Joining the Normandy had become to the other exception to his rule. It had become the first place that was like home to him since he became a mercenary and the crew was the family that would never abandon him like his real family did. The sarcastic pilot, the matronly doctor, the bickering engineering crew, Shepard... they accepted and embraced him in spite of his brazen bitterness. Seeing them alive again brought tears to the eyes that had been dry since the day his mother kicked him out of his childhood home.

"Was it worth dragging you out of bed at 0400 hours?" Hackett asked kindly.

Zaeed turned to face him again and nodded firmly, the brief moment of weakness pushed to the darkest recesses of his mind.

With Joker's practiced precision, the ship slid into the bay, landing with the airlock directly in front of Hackett and Zaeed. There was barely a hesitation before it swung open and the crew began to tumble out.

Major Alenko stepped out first, snapping a salute at Hackett before shaking his outstretched hand. Alenko looked exhausted: his normally trim beard had grown significantly and he was in desperate need of a haircut. James Vega followed closely behind him, also in need of a beard trim and a haircut, but his eyes were full of relief to see Earth once again. The rest of the crew rushed onto the docks, desperate for a taste of Earth once again; Pilot Moreau, the AI known as EDI, Advisor Vakarian, Admiral Tali'Zorah, Doctor Chakwas...

As the crew began to form a line before him, Hackett realized a few familiar faces were absent. "Before me stand an honoured group of heroes. But where are Doctor T'Soni and Javik?" After his experience hunting down the Crucible blueprints with Doctor T'Soni, he had to admit that he had grown fond of the headstrong asari. The Prothean was more abrasive, but his skills on the battlefield were unprecedented.

"They remained on Eden Prime, taking care of the colony," Kaidan explained.

"Guess they still weren't ready for retirement," Zaeed chimed in.

"It was an honourable decision. Now that we have you all here-"

His precursor to his speech was interrupted by loud footfalls and gasping breath as Jacob Taylor sprinted into the docking bay. "Sorry I'm late," he managed to say between breaths. He was sporting an Alliance uniform and a standard-issue pistol. He quickly shook hands with the crew members he was familiar with from his tour on the SR-2.

Hackett continued when Jacob had snapped to his side. "A few brief matters to take care of. First and foremost, on behalf of the entire Systems Alliance, I would like to thank all of you for your service not only to humanity, but to the entire galaxy. None of us would be here without you. As a token of humanity's gratitude, you will all be awarded Stars of Terra.

"Word of your return is going to get out quickly. With the influx of outgoing refugees, I was able to secure a series of rooms in an apartment building for all of you to stay in. I'm sure you would all like a hot shower and a warm bed, because as soon as the media catches up with all of you, your private time is about to be cut short. We'll meet tomorrow in the temporary Alliance Headquarters at promptly 0800 hours.

"Zaeed and Jacob will lead you to your temporary housing, and they'll also lead you to Alliance HQ tomorrow. I know that many of you would like to return to your respective homeworlds, and we'll arrange transportation as necessary once we've completed a few administrative duties. Major Alenko, if it's agreeable with you, I'd like to have a meeting immediately. There are urgent matters that need to be discussed."

Kaidan nodded firmly. He only hoped he could get some of the answers the group was desperately in need of. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. See you all at 0800 hours."


As soon as Hackett and Kaidan were out of earshot, the crew exploded into questions.

"Is there any news on Shepard?" Tali asked, her hands gripped together.

"Have you been seeing Reaper troops on Earth?" Garrus inquired.

Joker nearly shouted, "What's going on with the relays?"

"Did anyone on the Citadel survive?" Cortez pleaded.

Jacob held his palms out to the group in an attempt to placate them. "I know you all have questions, but I think these are all things that Hackett wants to address himself."

"Why can't we meet with him now then?" James demanded. "Why can only the Major go? We want answers!"

"I know you've been waiting a long time, but I'm sure the Admiral wants to speak to Kaidan alone for a reason."

"Please, just tell us if you know anything at all about Shepard," Tali begged.

Jacob's heart sank to his toes at Tali's words. His first impression of the quarian hadn't been the most positive, but she had quickly proven herself to be an extraordinary woman who deserved Shepard's love. He feared his next words. "He's been missing since that day. There's a lot of untouched rubble around the city, but right now... unless someone else found him, his chances of survival are slim at best."

"Oh," she whispered, her gaze falling. "Oh," she repeated, her arms wrapping around her midsection. Garrus wrapped his arm around her shoulder in consolation, but she seemed unable to react to anything.

"I'm sorry Tali," Jacob said. "Let me take you to your living areas. You all deserve rest."

Tali leaned into Garrus's shoulder, breathing out one last "oh" of defeat.

Kaidan's eyes roamed around Hackett's vast library office. It was more lavish than he would have anticipated from the Admiral's minimalist nature; in times long past it would have belonged to the head librarian at the British Library. The walls were covered from ceiling to floor in honest-to-goodness paper books. He approached a leather-bound 17th century history novel and pulled it from its spot in the shelf; a puff of dust rose in its wake. He thumbed through the pages, reveling in the long forgotten scent of old paper. Texts like these preached of the faults of overexpansion and the hunger for power; perhaps if humanity had learned they would have never become a target for the Reapers.

Yet humans had a need for war; since the 1800s, Earth was almost in a constant state of war in one country or another. The expansion into space just meant that they began to fight aliens instead of each other.

The oak double doors swung open and Hackett re-entered, steaming mugs of coffee in each hand. Kaidan returned the novel to its original resting place, ensuring that it lined up with its neighbours. "Two milk, three sugar," he said to Kaidan, passing him his respective mug. He took a long sip of it, sighing contently as warmth spread through his tired limbs.

"Sir, this is real coffee," he said, surprised.

"Only the best for the Normandy crew," Hackett replied, the corner of his lip lifting into a crooked smile. "Have a seat at my desk."

At Hackett's request, Kaidan sunk into a plush suede armchair across from Hackett. The desk was so full of paperwork he didn't have room to rest his coffee; however, he didn't mind, he enjoyed the comfort of the warmth in his palms.

"I brought you here alone, for now, so we could speak off the record. Although unintentional, your decision to land in the small hours of the morning was advantageous. Right now, only a handful of us know that you're here; in about three hours the news will spread like wildfire and all notions of private conversation will be thrown out the window." He placed his elbows on his desk and rested his fingertips together, forming a pyramid. "Let's keep things brief and concise. We'll cover everything in full during tomorrow's meeting."

"Yes, sir."

"There are a few matters I'd like to immediately put on the table." To emphasize his point, he moved a stack of papers aside. "First and foremost, Shepard. I'm sorry to say that he's been missing since the Battle for Earth. The rubble is so extensive it will take us years to clear it all, but..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "We had to declare him KIA. It's been four weeks. His cybernetic implants could have kept him alive for a short time, but considering the destruction of the Citadel and Crucible it's nearly impossible to consider his survival."

Kaidan's gaze fell to the hardwood floor, eyes becoming hot with the threat of tears. "Right."

"Furthermore, the Council managed to escape, but the rest of the citizens on the Citadel weren't so lucky."

"All of them?" Kaidan whispered incredulously.

"All of them."

"My God..."

"It's disturbing to consider how many lives were lost that day; nearly half the casualties in the entire war. I'm lucky I pulled out the Crucible scientists and kept them on Earth; otherwise, we would have lost many of the galaxy's most brilliant minds as well."

Kaidan's golden eyes lifted to meet Hackett's blue ones. "How did Shepard's Collector base crew fare?"

"As you are aware, Zaeed Massani and Jacob Taylor are well and assisting me when they can. The rest of the crew have reported in and are helping with the rebuilding efforts where they're needed."

He let out a sigh of relief - at least there was one piece of good news in this disaster.

"There is another urgent matter which must be discussed," Hackett said. "The Reapers."

"Right." Kaidan's stomach tightened into a knot as he remembered the fireside discussion with the crew.

"As you may have been able to ascertain, they haven't been destroyed and they are still very present. However, they appear to no longer be hostile." Kaidan could see the sun begin to rise through the wide window behind Hackett; the sky was so dark he could barely see it, but he caught a streak of orange light that snuck into Hackett's office. "In fact, they restored the mass relays to full functionality."

"That explains why we had no issues with our jump."

"What we can't figure out is what the hell Shepard did in the Crucible that changed the Reapers. We were on comm in the last few minutes..." Hackett shook his head. "I kept telling him it wasn't working, and our comms suddenly shut down. Only minutes later, that beam of blue light exploded out of the Crucible and the rest was chaos."

Kaidan's arms crossed his chest. "You're sure this place isn't bugged, sir?" Hackett nodded in affirmation. "Good, because I have a bit of a hypothesis on what happened with Shepard."

He briefly summarized the bizarre occurrences during the Normandy's incapacitation: the vivid dreams, the mysterious crate delivery, Shepard's voice intruding into Sam's mind and the subsequent discussion revealing the shared dreams.

"Shepard controlling the Reapers," Hackett whispered. He stood and began to pace past his window, causing the stream of sunlight to flicker as he passed it. "Knowing Shepard, I can get on board with that idea." He stroked the scruff on his chin. "The question is, can everybody else?"

"This is all speculation right now, sir. Though it does sound crazy, doesn't it?"

Hackett shot him a sideways glance. "We're talking about Shepard here. Does anything surprise you anymore?"

Kaidan chortled. "Yeah, I guess not."

Hackett glanced at the time on his omni-tool. "It's 0530 hours, Major, why don't you get some rest and we'll reconvene at 0800 hours tomorrow?"

Kaidan stood and saluted crisply. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Jacob is waiting downstairs to escort you to your temporary housing." Hackett surprised Kaidan by returning his salute. "You've done great work, Major Alenko. It's great to have you home."

"It's great to be home, sir."

Kaidan spun on his heel and left Hackett's office, trying to hold the pieces of his heart together as he thought of Shepard.