"Reports from the sensor sweeps, ma'am." The deck officer offered a datapad of scrolling numbers and astrological readings. Shala took one quick glance at the offered datapad and narrowed her eyes at the woman. Her sour mood seemed to reach the woman and she shrugged and let her arm fall to the side. "Same as the last one. Same as all of them." She glanced down at the pad and flicked through readouts, "Twenty particles of space dust per cubic meter, thirty ultraviolet radiation spikes, and a class-2 comet. It's just dead space out there ma'am. "

"What about the focused beam scanner at the coordinates I gave you?" Shala clipped. The woman took a second to pull up the relevant findings.

"Umm…two hits, but one was just a sensor ghost from an asteroid a few systems over with a dense concentration of radioactive metal. The other is a status beacon around the New Found colony on Beta IV. It's been flagged as received and forwarded to the Alliance HQ." The woman looked disheartened, "The beacon hasn't been updated in over ten months. It's probably just another ghost colony. "

"But nothing from the Normandy?" Shala asked for what felt like the hundredth time this week.

"Nothing, ma'am."

"Well…try again!" Shala snapped. She wasn't angry. She was frustrated with the situation. Eight days of sailing the void of space, hoping to just stumble upon the Normandy waiting patiently for rescue. It was fraying her nerves and testing her patience.

"Admiral, we've already scanned this sector three times." The officer sighed, "The Normandy is not here and until the commander returns from the surface, we can't leave."

"Any word from Alenko or the ground party?" Shala asked, eager to get the Scimitar moving again. Despite the frustration of staying in geo-synchronized orbit over Zhu's Hope on the backwater Feros for over thirty-six hours, Shala could not begrudge the commander or urge his swift return. The Scimitar had more to its mandate than to aimlessly drift for the Normandy, ignoring distress calls from abandoned colonies. Zhu's Hope was not the first colony they had approached, but it was the first to have survived the Reaper War. Major Alenko had ordered that all known colonies along their path were to be assessed for damage, supplies dispensed or shared as needed and the wounded cared for. It was important that the entire Galaxy be aware that the Reapers were defeated and it was time to rebuild. The Scimitar was one of hundreds of Alliance, Asari, Quarian, and Turian ships sent to the corners of the compass to begin the long, arduous task of rebuilding. Though loath to admit it, Shala wished the Geth fleet was still operational; without the need to sleep, the Geth were incredibly efficient recovery agents. But sadly-though she would kill anyone who dared guess it- the Geth were still inoperable, their entire fleet dragged to the asteroid belt beyond Mars, though a single report from the Galactic Rim suggested Geth were still active. The Scimitar had a tight-beam relay back to the Gemini docks in orbit around Luna and all reports were forwarded back to an eager Alliance command. Apparently the revelation that Zhu's Hope had survived, none the worse for wear, was a welcomed update for the Alliance logistic command that all too often dealt with the ashes of colonies.

"The Major should be finishing up." The officer checked her omni-tool, "Lia'Vael managed to get the water-treatment pump working and Dr. Michel is already back aboard. There weren't a lot of wounded. Mostly just malnutrition and dehydration."

"Hopefully the Normandy is in similar straits." Shala muttered. The fact that Tali was the only Quarian on the Normandy and the fact it had been over a month since the ship vanished sent spikes of fear through the Admiral. Frigates were well stocked vessels, the Normandy especially so, but there supplies wouldn't last forever. Shala gripped the sides of the captain's chair tightly and offered a prayer to the Ancestors that her dear Tali was alright. With Major Alenko and Captain Riley on the surface, Shala was the ranking officer on the Scimitar and though she belonged to the Quarian Flotilla, the Scimitar crew and the Major were happy to divert to her experience.

"And…what about that…thing?" Shala asked, nodding her head towards the bridge's windows. The Scimitar's bridge was a massive three-story rectangular room with a command deck with a plotting table and pilot seats. Directly beneath the raised deck was The Pit, a sunken smaller floor, exactly the same dimensions of the command deck, as if the deck Shala sat on had been cut from the floor and supported on steel beams. The Pit was the Scimitar's weapons, sensors and navigation center, housing some of the most advanced computers Shala had even seen. Between the sunken Pit and raised command deck was the rest of the bridge; a wide open space of stations and secondary systems. The entire deck was ringed in tall plas-steel glass panels that could be protected by Mass Effect fields or covered in blast shields at a moment's notice, depends on the circumstances.

Out beyond the Scimitar, like a macabre totem of death floated a derelict Sovereign Class Reaper. It was the first one they had encountered since leaving Earth and the Scimitar had approached it wearily, though it had been dead for over a month. Despite it obviously inactive state, the Scimitar could not draw too deep from a well of trust and weapons had been powered and locked on the damned thing as it floated around Feros, caught in the planet's gravitational field. It hung in space like some satellite and Shala could not bring herself to call off the weapon's lock even as they approached their thirty-sixth hour in orbit.

"Dead, as far as we can tell." The officer cast a worried glance out the bridge window. The Reaper was easily twice the size of the Scimitar and by some cursed luck if it were to reactivate, it would make short work of the armored cruiser.

"What's to be done with it?" Shala asked. She had argued with Major Alenko upon first arriving in orbit around Feros. The Admiral and Captain Riley had wanted to destroy the leviathan immediately and Kaiden had been close to ordering it, but orders were orders.

"Alliance brass wants all Reapers flagged with beacons and left alone." They had done that already, firing a remote drone, little more than a radio on jets, at the derelict monstrosity. Shala had imagined the drone to be a thermonuclear warhead and waited for the explosion. Nothing had happened and she had scowled.

"Can't believe you humans want to study those things!" Shala said and waved a hand angrily at the floating Reaper.

"Not me, Admiral. I say destroy it, but even if the Scimitar still had a full complement of bombers we could barely dent the thing. And besides, I'm guessing Alliance Brass wants to make sure each Reaper is disposed of under careful conditions. We can't just leave these things hanging around or hope all of it burns up in atmo after destroyed. The Alliance will send a capital ship out here eventually to retrieve it and throw it into the sun. Who knows, maybe a Quarian flagship will be tasked with the disposal."

"Ancestors, I wish I could be there." Shala whispered, settling back in her chair and resting her head on her fist. The Quarian fleet had extracted a terrible toll on the Reapers, both during the assault on Earth and in the hours after the Crucible had activated. It was amazing a single Reaper had remained intact after the combined fleets had unleashed their pent up anger on the monsters. But a handful had survived and the Alliance had towed them to the human planet Mercury, attached simple engines to the derelict ships and launched them into the sun. Such assured disposals was to be the Galactic standard, but if Shala knew the bosh'tet Citadel races like she thought she did, the Salarians and Turians would be keeping a few for study and the Asari because it was a link to their precious Protheans. Shala drummed her finger on the command console of her chair, fighting back an urge to spit in disgust. She hated the council races, hated them for their hypocrisy and arrogance. When Tali'Zorah had returned from her Pilgrimage, she had told the Board about the approaching threat of the Reapers. Though disbelieving at first, Raan had later pressed the Board to at least look into the threat when she heard the bosh'tets on the Citadel Council had ignored the evidence presented by Commander Shepard. As far as Raan was concerned, the slutty Asari, arrogant Turians and slimy Salarians got what the deserved when the Reapers hit.

Not so proud when AIs destroy your worlds, are you? Raan thought darkly. And now the Quarians had their homeworld back and would soon have a booming economy. Fate occasionally had a sense of humor.

The human noticed her narrowed eyes and gulped, "I'll just come back when we hear from Commander Alenko."

"You do that." Raan said darkly and began to brood.

0000000

Jack hated hospitals. She hated their clean, chemical stench. She hated the braniac doctors and their knives, and the nurses who somehow managed to look like complete sluts in plain white smocks. She hated the burning, lifeless phosphorescent lights and the bleached white hallways. She hated that at any given moment a monstrous fucking fuck of a creature could burst out of a hitherto unknown lab and massacre the entire place. She snorted; hell, that's what happened to her.

But most of all she hated that you only visited a hospital when you were half dead. Or, as the case was, when a friend was half dead. To say Shepard was near death would be like saying Jack was a fan of tattoos. Though apparently much healthier than when he had first been brought in, Shepard still looked as close to road-kill as a human could come without being…well…dead. Tubes of every manner imaginable were connecting to him in one way or another; breathing for him, eating for him, crapping for him, filtering his blood until his cloned liver was replaced. The rumor mill was-and Jack was inclined to believe them- that the nutrient paste was being filtered directly into his intestines as his stomach was too fragile to handle it. That's where the Quarian doctors came in; if any race knew about absolutely pure sanitized nutrient pastes, it was the bucket heads.

Jack had never been a great fan of the Quarians, or really anything for that matter, but her time on the Normandy and the massive influx of support was making her rethink a lot of her assumptions. Tali had been one little hell-cat. Jack cursed her breath. Tali was a hell-cat, she wasn't dead. Jack refused to believe that, just as she refused to believe Shepard had been dead. Reality: 0 Jack: 1. Things were looking good. If there was any sense of justice, any at all, in this fucked up Galaxy, Tali was still alive and waiting patiently for that moody bastard Alenko to come in and save her. Two years ago Jack had believed that the only justice to be found was at the barrel of a gun or edge of a knife. Now she was hoping and dreaming like some schoolgirl slut.

"Fucking boy scout." Jack whispered with a snort, eyeing the steady rise and fall of his fleshy pink chest and finding some comfort in it. UV treatments and oxygen chambers were being used to recreate skin-cells, but until they were complete he looked like a little pink piglet. She was glad he was alive. Hell, she was thrilled, but she'd never admit that. "This is all your fault, you know?" She approached the bed slowly, as if her steps would wake him. She knew it was impossible; he was a deep into a chemically induced coma as one could be. Maybe it was the principle of the matter. Maybe Jack was going soft.

"Two years ago I never would have thought I'd be in a place like this." She shrugged, "Well, not voluntarily. Guess your stupid speeches did a number on me, eh Shepard?"

He didn't respond, but she didn't need him to. In fact, it was probably better if he didn't. The bastard was smug enough as it was, beating the Reapers and uniting the Galaxy. He didn't need something like mellowing out Subject Zero added to his list of impossible accomplishments. Jack hesitated for a minute, glancing out the door and seeing an empty hallway all the way down to the nurse's station. Slowly she took his hand in hers and sighed.

"The kids are doing okay." She smiled sadly when he didn't respond, "Yeah Prangely took a few knocks but he's a tough kid. Rodriguez finally learned to keep her shields up and got out with her ass still intact." She paused, hesitating, "We lost Smith and Marco. Damned brutes came out of nowhere, smashed through their shields and-" Jack paused to wipe a tear away, "and beat them into the ground. Left them as red smears on the pavement." She looked down at Shepard, wondering if he could hear her.

"I never felt so mad in my life, Shepard." She said, probably gripping his hand tighter than she was supposed to, "Before you I would have left those kids to die. Survival of the fittest. But when I saw…" Another pause, "When I saw those monsters kill my kids…I just lost it Shepard. I ripped those bastards apart with my bare hands, and I made sure they were alive the whole time. The others…well I think they understood, but they looked at me differently. They don't talk back anymore. They just follow orders without question and its pissing me off." She paused and gulped hard, "I think they're afraid of me, Shepard. Or blame me."

Shepard didn't say anything. Only the beeping of the heart monitor and the artificial breathing gave any indication he was alive. Jack snorted.

"Yeah maybe I will take them out for a drink. Too bad you blew up that arsenal arena; that'd be perfect. Throw their asses into the ring until the come out right." She shook her head, "Grunt would be proud." She looked down at the breathing man, studying his jawline and scowled, "Fuck you, I don't blame myself. I blame the Reapers."

Again, silence.

"I did everything I could!" Jack said loudly and let his hand fall to one side, "I don't…I saved as many as I could, Shepard. You were right; my kids needed to be rear-echelon support. We saved a lot of lives, got a chest full of medals and stories that'll peel the panties right off an asari." She smiled to herself, resigned and calm, "We did good Shepard. We did good."

"Now get your ass up so we can party, huh? I promised my kids that they'd get their gear autographed by the Commander Shepard, and you don't want to make a liar out of me." Jack smiled slightly and for the briefest moment, convincing herself Shepard was smiling too. "Besides, if you're not up by the time Tali gets here, she'll rip you a new one."

There was a soft knock at the door and Jack spun on her heel, anxiety shooting through her veins. In the dim light of the hallway stood the cheerleader, her once disapproving glare now melancholy and sympathetic.

"Jack." Miranda sounded somewhat surprised, "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Why? 'cause I'm a psycho bitch who'll sooner strangle a puppy than make friends?" Jack spat, really not in the mood for Miranda's 'you're not me, therefore fuck you' attitude. Miranda snorted bitterly.

"Actually I was going to say I'm surprised to see you in a hospital." Miranda nodded to the tray of medical equipment in the corner, "Lots of needles and scalpels. Figured you'd be shaking in your last season boots."

Despite herself Jack looked down at her trademark knee high combat boots and raised an ankle, studying them intently, "They're not last sea-" She stopped when she noticed the smug smile on Miranda's face. "Oh, fuck you too cheerleader." Jack laughed and Miranda came to stand on the opposite side of Shepard's body. She studied the readouts from the holographic machines and adjusted a few dials and settings. The silence stretched for several long moments and Jack felt herself growing more frustrated that she had risen to Miranda's obvious baiting. So much for her badass persona, eh? Almost defending her shoes to another woman? Next they'll be braiding hair and talking about the boys.

"It's good to see you, Jack." Miranda said at length, "I'm glad some of the crew survived the war."

"Yeah well some of us had to do clean up, and since this lazy bastard is satisfied on his lazy ass…" Jack motioned to the body of their captain and they both fell silent. "How's he doing Miranda? Honestly?"

"Honestly?" Miranda raised a perfect eyebrow, "It's a miracle he's not dead. We've set the bones and joints and they're healing as well as can be expected. The Korgan and Salarians are working round the clock to get a batch of cloned organs for him."

"Doesn't normally take this long." Jack said and motioned to a scar on her hip, "Got stabbed in the kidney once. Had it replaced on Omega for a quickie and a kilo of red sand."

"Normally yes," Miranda said, ignoring Jack's little story, "But Shepard is as genetically engineered as I am. His organs are superior, for lack of a better term. The Salarians are combing through the Lazarus reports, making sure they build organs exactly to the specifications he needs to survive."

"Custom built organs." Jack said, "Like the Normandy and that bitchin' apartment weren't enough."

"Indeed." Miranda said with a small chuckle.

"What about his leg?" Jack indicated to the stump of his left leg. Of all Shepard's injuries, that was most disheartening. Organs were one thing, something that couldn't be seen and easily ignored, but missing an entire leg…Jack bristled at the idea of the badass Commander Shepard confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. It just felt…wrong.

"We're working on it. The Quarians are almost done with a prototype bionic replacement, but the Asari insist on a cloned limb."

"Which would you take?" Jack asked and to her surprise, Miranda shrugged.

"I'm not sure. The cloned limb would feel more natural, but Shepard and I are genetically engineered beings, so what's natural? The bionic has impressive specs and would no doubt be more useful, but it's still in development and we can't graft synthetic skin onto it yet. It would be obvious. Besides, when Tali gets here and hears we implanted Shepard with more tech she didn't personally approve of…"

"Heard Alenko lost his eye to the Reapers and got it replaced." Jack said, "Didn't seem to bother him."

"You weren't there." Miranda shot suddenly, "I was. We didn't have any painkillers and it was an overcrowded field hospital. I can tell you he was in a great deal of discomfort."

"Whoa, don't get your panties in a twist." Jack said defensively. Miranda relented and sighed.

"Sorry." She said with a slight smile, "Been a long day."

"Sure, yeah, whatever." Jack mumbled, eager to move on from Miranda's emotional outburst. "Any word from him?"

"Some. I spend a lot of my time here, so I only get bits and pieces. The Scimitar has surveyed a few remote colonies, but still no sign from the Normandy."

"Wish I could've gone with them." Jack said forlornly. The convict had come to really like Tali, looking out for her as the younger sister she never had, ignoring that Tali is a few years older. What Jack lacked in years, she more than made up with experience and bad decisions. Hell, Tali had been the one to approach her for her first tattoo. Jack had been happy enough giving her one remotely with her omni-tool, but Tali had dragged her to a bedroom to "get it like a human." The Quarian had been drunk off her ass, but damn if she didn't have a fine one. And now she sported an absolutely insane tramp-stamp that Jack new Shepard couldn't wait to find. With his tongue, if need be.

"Why didn't you?" Miranda asked, genuinely curious, "I mean I'm here looking after Shepard…"

"Can't leave my students." Jack said softly, "Lots of them lost family so they're sticking close. Can't just up and abandon them now."

"You've really changed, haven't you?" Miranda said with something approaching a smile, "I never would have thought you would be looking after students."

"Yeah well maybe Shepard's speeches had an effect after all." Jack said softly. It was one of the few moments she would ever admit such a thing and she honestly wasn't sure why she had admitted it. But a slow idea began to build; if any of the Normandy crew could understand leaving their entire lives behind after meeting Shepard, perhaps it was Miranda.

"Good to hear it." Miranda whispered and the two fell into an uncomfortable silence. Jack could practically hear the gears in Miranda's head, trying to figure out what to say next. Was this a friendship building between them? Jack wasn't sure she wanted to know. Miranda was as insufferable as Jack herself. Can't have more than one Queen in the room. Jack snorted, feeling like a snotty little girl. She looked down as Shepard and his way the hell too handsome face. The bastard was lucky he chose Tali over Jack or Miranda's advances. Jack didn't want to think about what she'd do if Shepard was hers. She needed to get her mind off his junk quickly. Tali was a great friend and she couldn't do that to her. Fuck it.

"How's your sister?" Jack asked suddenly. Miranda looked up from studying Shepard's resting face. Even asleep, Shepard radiated an aura of calm understanding. Miranda smiled

0000000

We watch from the shadows, listening, waiting.

The music screams at us. Kill. Maim. Devour. Evolve.

The world was our, its inhabitants our meals.

We were the alpha. A killer of killers.

The music screams. Kill. Maim. Devour. Evolve.

Then the invaders came, on wings of fire and destruction.

They crashed into our hive, our home.

Our Princess died in pain, melting, screaming.

The music screamed. Kill. Maim. Devour. Evolve.

Avenge.

So we watched. We learned. We hunted.

Now we can no longer ignore the music.

We must dance.

We must kill. We must maim. We must devour.

We must avenge.

As one, we move.