She couldn't breathe.
Every time she turned around, there was another foe, another blast. The almost mechanical buzz of Collectors' wings filled her head. She could feel the heat of their lasers on her skin. The sound of the Collector General's booming voice echoed long after its host body burned into nothing. She could hear Tali in her ear. Too hot. Having trouble breathing. Next valve, Shepard.
She pushed herself until she couldn't push anymore. Access pad flashing green, and then it was on to the next one. Beneath her armor, her skins was slick with sweat. Each time her lungs expanded, she was filled with a sharp pain. She was hurt. She didn't know where. But she had to do this. She had to make it. She had to push. Tali was still in the vents. Garrus' squad was taking fire. Humanity - humanity needed her. She could not fail.
One shockwave followed another, knocking her foes from behind cover to who knew how many stories down. Her kinetic shields were down moments after they regenerated, and she gritted her teeth as a shot buried into her shoulder, knocking her back. Vaulting over cover, she darted to the next one, lungs on fire as she gasped for air. Zaeed sprayed cover fire as she yelled out for their help. Shields down. She could see red.
Back pressed against smooth black metal, Calla gasped for whatever air she could find. Tali was shouting for help in her ear, and she could see the next pad. Glowing green, close, but far away. Shepard shouted something to Jacob before removing herself from cover and darting towards the console. Her left arm gleamed orange for a moment as she ran her hand over it, unlocking Tali's path. No one spoke their thanks, no one gave an apology.
Ducking behind the nearest blockade, she looked around for the next one. It wasn't far, but the floating stations were full of Collectors. Two well-aimed bullets from the Widow ripped through unsuspecting grunts, leaving four behind. Zaeed tossed out a heat sink. It glowed orange for a moment before it caught the organic on fire. Jacob pulled another out of cover only to shoot a round right through its head.
Assuming direct control.
Shepard let out a scream of frustration as she vaulted over the cover and ran down to regroup with the other two. Tali's comments were coming in faster than before. The heat was rising in the ducts. They were so close. So close. She could actually taste it. It tasted like copper on her tongue.
The three of them squeezed off as many rounds into the possessed Collector as possible. Zaeed's rifle was cradled in his arms. Jacob's shotgun shells tore into the organic. But it wasn't enough. They needed something more. Calla's entire body began to glow with dark energy, a bright enough spectacle to distract Zaeed, who stood and stared as her body surged forth, through everything that stood dividing her and the Collector. The impact threw it backwards, but it didn't kill the thing. The almost point blank explosion of her shotgun finished the job.
Sprinting forward, Shepard's hand clumsily ran over the green console, leaving Tali to finish what she was there for. And then Garrus was there, filling her head with more words she could hardly make out. They were at the rendezvous point. They needed help. Zaeed and Jacob gave cover fire as Shepard darted into the now open door to help Tali. Door's stuck. Can't get in. Garrus.
Finally, the quarian's skills clicked into place and the other door opened, letting everyone else in. Mordin, Thane, Miranda, Samara, Legion, Jack, Grunt. Garrus. Unharmed. That was all she needed to know, and her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she felt it would shatter her sternum. Whipping back around, she yelled orders for Legion to shut the other door.
For a long moment, Shepard half-expected the door to not close. No matter how hard Tali worked at the pad, the door refused to shut. Collectors were swarming. They were going to get in. They were cornered. They couldn't be cornered, not with such inferior numbers. Goddamnit, Tali, hurry up.
When the door finally slammed shut, Shepard finally took a breath.
That breath was stolen away when she heard a shout from behind her. It was Jack. "It's Chambers!" Shepard's entire body tensed. Holstering her hand cannon, she half-ran to the biotic to where she stood in front of the pod. There she was - Yeoman Chambers with her red head sunk low. Was she dead? Unconscious?
Calla got her answer when the young woman woke with a scream. Eyes wide; confusion. Hands pounding on the pod, mouth agape with each soul-shattering screech. Pain. Too much pain. Her skin became mottled. Red, blistering, falling. Clawing for them to help her. More yelling, strangled sobs. Black. Falling, falling, and shrieking.
And all Shepard could do was watch in horror, the flush of her skin retreating, leaving nothing but wide eyes and parted lips. "Get the other ones out!" she yelled, too overcome with horror to even so much as lift her hands from her sides.
One by one, her squad broke off, each of them attacking the pods containing the Normandy's missing crew. The butt of Garrus' rifle shattered the glass leading to one of the techs. Miranda struggled and heaved to open the one where Chakwas stood. Kenneth Donnelly stirred from his half-conscious state with a broken cry of his own. Shepard's heart struggled to keep beating. Gabby. Not Gabby.
It took everything Shepard had to keep her voice level as she spoke to Chakwas, thankful for the darkened visor of her helmet. No one could see her tears when they couldn't even see her eyes. The doctor stood before her; shaken and hardly keeping herself together. She blamed her for taking so long. She blamed her for Kelly, for Gabby, for Rupert. No matter how truthful her words were, Shepard didn't need the blame. Not now.
Finally, Shepard was given another decision. Another three decisions. She sent Thane to bring the crew back to the Normandy. Samara was in charge of the biotic barrier that would keep her, Grunt, and Jack away from the seeker swarms. And, again, Garrus would lead the second team. Between them, a silent promise was shared. She trusted him. He believed in her. There were no words. They didn't need them.
The next fight was harder than the last. Inside Samara's biotic bubble, it was difficult to see what enemies lie outside of it. Only when she heard Samara's warm, relaxed tone announce oncoming fire did Shepard draw her submachine gun, popping a heat sink into the gun and watching it come to life. The Collectors weren't expecting them. It wasn't just the element of surprise, but she could feel their desperation as the krogan and the biotic unleashed a flurry upon them they hadn't predicted from their enemy. They expected them to fall, to be crushed by superior numbers. They didn't get far with those expectations.
Husks were tossed aside with a wave of Jack's arm, crushed under the power of Grunt's charge. Shepard lifted a Collector into the air and then slammed it back to the ground with a crunch. All the while, Samara held the barrier. She did not budge. She did not waver.
Still, no matter how hard they pressed, more kept coming. Not just husks, but scions and abominations. Collectors. Grunts with hardly more than the weakest of shields and those possessed. When they moved forward a yard, they were pushed back, only prompting them to push harder. She could hear Garrus clearer now. He was giving them Hell, and those things deserved every bullet. Word of his team's success filled her with all the confidence she needed to keep going. Her team stuck right beside her, ready to fight until they couldn't.
And then they saw it - their destination. Samara's will was slipping, but she pushed on, her slow walk turning into a labored struggle that turned into a full on run. Shepard shouted for them to hurry, her shotgun blasts taking out husks as they grasped for purchase on the ledge. Grunt was the first one that pulled away from the seeker swarms, whirling around to release a barrage of cover fire as Shepard and Samara made it.
The asari fell to the ground with a strangled gasp. She couldn't go on any longer. The barrier was slipping. Failing.
Shepard's memory flashed back to that night on Omega, searching for the justicar's daughter. VIP section of Afterlife. Music that ground into her soul. She tried so hard to do as Samara asked, but she hadn't been able to snag Morinth's attention. Calla bored her. She left. Disappeared. Samara had been so close, so near to finally finishing the quest that filled up her life.
Then it was gone.
A black cloud of seeker bugs descended upon Jack, whose shotgun couldn't disperse them fast enough. She let out a scream as she was lifted from the ground, her entire body twisting frantically as she tried to fight her way out. Shepard shouted her name, throwing her gun into Samara's arms as she ran through the doors to try to grab her. A thin arm parted through the cloud, inked and desperate, and she could see the young woman's face distorted in grief and anger and pain as she tried to reach Shepard. Tried and failed. Tried again.
She'd trusted her. The girl who'd finally opened up was being stolen away, right before the end. She'd lost so many. She couldn't lose her, too. Not Jack. Not after fighting so hard with her by her side. Broken and vulnerable Jack.
Shepard felt two thick arms around her waist as Grunt hauled her back through the door. They couldn't lose her to the seeker swarms, too. She let out a scream of protestation, clawing at the krogan's thick skin. "I can't leave her behind! We can still sa -" The door separating them from the long corridor slammed shut with a shocking finality that silenced the commander.
Tearing away from Grunt's heavy embrace, Shepard staggered forward, her senses overwhelmed to an almost breaking point. She felt nothing. Heard nothing. Smelled nothing. Jack. She'd lost Jack. It was her fault. Kelly. Gabby. Rupert. Jack. Their faces whirled around in front of her eyes as she stared forward, focused on nothing. It was as if she'd killed them with her own two hands. So many lives were gone.
She was torn from her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder. It wasn't heavy. Grunt stood far behind her, ejecting the heat sink from his shotgun and plunging in another. Samara was far off - exhausted, hardly able to stand, focusing all of her energy on revitalizing herself. Calla's eyes fell to her shoulder to see three familiar talons.
"Where's Jack?" Miranda's familiar voice echoed behind them. Shepard felt a shudder in the center of her chest. Samara's murmured response garnered a, "bloody bugs," from the Cerberus operative. She was actually hurting. After all she and Jack went through, she was hurting.
Shepard shrugged Garrus' hand from her shoulder, turning around to look him in the eyes. "I'm not taking you with me," she said, her voice low and shaking, but resolved. "I ca - I can't take you with me."
"I'm going with you, Shepard," he replied, his tone unshakeable.
She mustered a single, feeble glare at him, though her helmet kept him from seeing it. "You're not coming with me. If you come with me, you'll die. Just like the rest of them."
But if you die here, I won't be able to tell you… Her thoughts trailed off into nothingness, and she shook her head to dash them away. She didn't need them. She needed to focus. She needed to finish this - without Garrus. If he stayed here, away from whatever dire fight lay before them, he would be safe.
"Calla," her name was like a treaty on his tongue. "I…"
"Stop. Don't say a word. Save it for when this is finished."
Garrus gave a firm nod, and just like that, their conversation was over. Shepard was forced to make her way into the group. They needed her words. They needed her confidence, what sad and pathetic pieces were left of it. "Well," she began, clearing her throat as she looked from face to face.
"We've lost a few good men and women in this fight." Samara was standing, as sure as ever, her vitality regained. Regality radiated from her, chin tilted upwards in pride, eyes sparkling. "We came into this with the knowledge that we might not be going back, that our greatest expectation was complete and utter destruction." Thane was beside the asari, full of his calm strength, hands clasped behind his back, wide black eyes focused on Shepard.
Her focus went to Tali and Legion. They were standing side by side - geth and quarian, a milestone she never expected to throw herself over. "We have made it farther than anyone expected. That in itself should be enough to pull our asses out of this." Jacob was tending to a wound on Zaeed's upper arm. It looked nasty, and the merc grimaced to himself as Jacob did what he could. "Now that we're here, there's no turning back. We can only go forward."
Miranda stood out in front, her blue eyes full to the brim with patience and gleaming with a rage built up over so many years just waiting to be released. "And we're going to go forward. We're going to bring those Collector bastards fire." Beside her, Garrus stepped up, chin tilted down to look into Shepard's eyes. She stared up at him for longer than a moment before looking away and into each face before her. Not seeing Jack standing there was difficult, and for a while she was afraid her voice would tremble. Instead, thankfully, her words were strong; powerful. "We will get out of this."
And they brought them fire.
Shepard took Mordin and Zaeed with her. She needed Mordin's tech, Zaeed's gun. They hit the Collectors head on. There was no holding back, no mercy, not even a straying thought of guilt as their bullets tore through the shields and skin of their enemies. Between whizzing bullets and the piercing mechanical whine of the particle beam, all she could think of was the end. This was the end. They were so close.
But, as usual, things were only just beginning. What she once saw as dangerous, a few near-death experiences strung together with pain and loss, now seemed like the calm before the storm. As their floating platform reached its destination, Shepard's eyes widened. Her mouth fell open. This… this was what they were after. A human Reaper. Staggering science aside, the monstrosity had to be destroyed. There was no other option.
The Illusive Man felt otherwise. His familiar face stared at Shepard from the glow of Mordin's omni-tool. He offered her a choice. Destroy the Collector base or take the knowledge compiled for their own use. The answer came from her lips easily. She'd seen what this research did to people. She'd been forced to watch as Kelly was reduced to nothing but a thick muck. And now Jack was dead. There was no option other than destroying the base. The Illusive Man fought back, but, in the end, it was her choice. She chose to blow this place to Hell and gone.
Her team fought hard. Each soul-splitting whine of the Reaper's laser sent chills down Shepard's spine. She could hear Zaeed's bullets ricocheting off of the slick metallic 'skin' of the creature, followed by the sound of crackling Collector flesh as it was set afire by Mordin's plasma rounds. Leaving cover, Shepard reached for the particle beam rifle on her back and fell into position, her aim directed at the thing's weakest spot - its eyes.
This continued for what felt like an eternity. Leaving cover. Firing the rifle. Ducking to avoid the beam aimed directly at her. Each time she felt the pulse of adrenaline starting to subside, a surprising shot and quick drain of her shields brought her back into the action. Every so often, she could hear Garrus shouting in her ear, giving her the situation, reminding her why she was out here in the first place. Why she had to get out of here alive.
The death throes of the human Reaper brought its heavy synthetic fist down onto the platform they stood on. Before she knew it, she was watching the mercenary fall onto his stomach, sliding downwards. Without so much as another thought, Calla threw herself forward, shouting out for him to grab onto her hand. Her eyes widened as he slipped from the edge, his fingers barely grasping onto the side for long enough.
His palm was rough and calloused in hers. She could feel him falling. He was too heavy. Her heart caught in her chest as she grabbed at his forearm with her other hand, her entire body surging with just enough adrenaline to lift him up.
"Charges are set, Shepard," Mordin called out behind her. "Extraction necessary. Quickly!"
And then they were running. She could hear Garrus begging for details on the situation in her ear. Shepard, answer me! Damnit! She led the two others, shotgun clutched in her arms as she gave them cover fire. Collectors were swarming from all sides. Her muscles cried out for rest, but she pushed on, denying them their pleas for relief. Shepard! What is the situation!? Garrus' voice intermingled with the voice of Harbinger, whose heavy threats echoed between her ears.
The three of them parted from the maze-like hallways of the base and onto another string of platforms. She caught sight of Joker standing in the opened airlock, assault rifle poised in his arms. Garrus, too, stood there.
A Collector lunged from her right, and she went to smack him with her shotgun only to have its thick, black blood spray over her chest and shoulder. Her eyes flew to Garrus to see him thrust a new heat sink into his sniper rifle. "Mordin! You first!" Shepard and Zaeed ducked behind cover as the salarian doctor gave a running start towards the Normandy. Jerking her head back, she saw him make it, but she didn't have enough time to breathe a sigh of relief. "Zaeed!"
"Fuck that, Shepard," the merc shot back, popping out of cover to bury a shot into an oncoming Collector's throat. "You're the goddamn hero here! You go!"
"I swear to God, I will punch you again!"
Zaeed spat another string of curses before stumbling out of cover and taking off towards the ship.
"Shepard!" Joker's voice rang out above everything, and it tore her away from the two Collectors heading her way. "Hurry up!"
Her arm pulsed blue as she let go of a powerful wave of force, knocking both of the things onto their backs for just long enough. Returning her shotgun to its spot on her back, Calla thrust herself into a standing position, and she ran. She ran, but she wasn't fast enough. There was a loud bang, and the platform bridging the gap between hers and the Normandy went crashing downwards. She had to keep going. She had to jump.
The last time she felt that weightless, she was watching the SR-1 float away in burning pieces.
Her heart all but stopped as she moved forward in the air, waiting for the Collectors' bullets to tear into her back. But the bullets never came. Garrus' cover fire wiped the platform clean of enemies.
All air was knocked from her lungs when Shepard hit the side of the ship, her arms desperately seeking some purchase on the floor of the opened airlock. Before a few terrified heartbeats passed, she felt herself being lifted up and into the ship in two very familiar arms. Joker was gone back to the helm. Mordin rushed back into the Med Bay to deal with the wounded. Zaeed was on his way there, as well, his arm now bleeding profusely after Jacob's poorly handled patch up.
That left Garrus.
The turian nearly smashed his hand onto the access pad that shut the airlock door. When it was closed and they were left, quite alone, he stared down at her. They were both out of breath - Shepard, from the run and the pain shooting down her right side, Garrus out of sheer terror. "I - I didn't let him keep the base," she gasped, her body pressed flush against his out of exhaustion.
But he wasn't interested in what had happened. He was eager to see if she was okay. His palms went to her helmet, removing it and casting it aside. Her skin was pale - paler than it had ever been, and her sweat was cold. Clammy. "Were you hit? Are you okay?"
"I tried to patch myself up when I had the chance," Calla said quietly. Her attempts to twist in his arms stopped when she felt her entire back erupt into what felt like flames. She fought to dig her fingers into something, to bite back the pain, but she was only met with the slick feeling of Garrus' armor in her hands. She coughed, her entire body trembling within the confines of her own armor. "Don't think it worked."
"We have to get you to the Med Bay," Garrus murmured, slipping a strong arm beneath her knees and lifting her up off of her feet. She wasn't easy to carry by any means, but necessity drove him to ignore any of his weaknesses.
He could hear Joker cursing to himself as they made their way as quickly away from the Collector base as was possible.
Shepard buried her face in the warm crook of Garrus' neck, oblivious to any of the worried crew who stood in the CIC. Miranda nearly lunged at the turian, eager to get the situation, though she was swiftly denied as he half-ran in the direction of the elevator. By the time they were on their way down, he could see she was slipping in and out of consciousness. "Come on, Shepard." His voice was low, hardly more than an angry growl. "Don't die on me again."
That was the last thing Shepard heard before everything went black.