AN: Much earlier in the day than usual, but I wanted to make sure this got out today and I'm not sure how much I'm going to be home later, so here you have it.

Fair warning: I'm taking a bit of artistic license here...okay, taking *more* artistic license than usual, since that's all fanfic really is. :) Anyway...as far as I know, we haven't been told how the crew on the SR1 were rescued after the attack at the beginning of ME2. If that's been explained anywhere, please feel free to let me know! This is another one of those things that has bugged me...

Also…this kind of ends on a bit of a cliffhanger. Sort of, I mean, because we all already know what happened, but still. Sorry? :) Feel free to skip this week's and read this and the upcoming chapter next week if you'd rather, I don't mind!

Disclaimer: EA and Bioware own all, but that doesn't stop my imagination running rampant. No infringement is intended.

Chapter 13 – A Cold, Silent Place

Normandy, captain's quarters, orbiting Alchera

Dear Kaidan,

Next time you see Admiral Hackett, would you please do me the favor of punching him in the face for me?

Okay, perhaps you shouldn't do that, considering you're still with the Alliance and that would be rather bad for your career, which is something I don't want to jeopardize. I'll just have to figure a way to get to him myself.

Why, you ask? I received a message from him yesterday, forwarded by Anderson, asking me to retrieve dog tags from the crew presumed KIA after the Normandy's attack. The ones for whom bodies weren't recovered.

They thought the news that they had found the site "might be important to me." It seems very strange to me that they're just now finding it, and then Hackett's email, and I... I don't even...I don't know what to say to any of that. I'd never taken Admiral Hackett for a cruel man before today...and in reality, I still don't, though I'm not sure he understood just how difficult it would be for me to face this.

But, face it I did, and oh, Kaidan, I thought I'd started to come to terms with what had happened to me, to us, but I haven't. I really, really haven't.

The attack happened in the Omega Nebula, in the Amada system, which is no small irony, considering how central the Omega Nebula has become to my life recently. Once we entered the system and were close enough to see it, I didn't need anyone to tell me that Alchera was where we were headed. I will never forget the sight of that place as long as I live. It...being there...I think my sleep will be uneasy (again) for awhile.

I will say, though, that Alchera is strangely beautiful, with its snowy white surface and its constant auroras, and it's rather amazingly silent. I went alone, even though Dr. Chakwas, Joker, and Garrus all protested. I just felt like it was something that I needed to do on my own. Some way for me to honor my crew and their sacrifice, as inadequate as I knew it would be.

I knew that the attack had been bad, but knowing that as some logical fact and knowing it as you see just how far the trail of wreckage went are two different things. One of the biggest pieces of the outer hull on the planet is a piece which had her name, so I put the monument that Hackett wanted there. I figured it was fitting.

It was so hard to walk the debris field, remembering so much of what happened to all of us during the hunt for Saren and Sovereign, but it was rather cathartic, too, in a way. I think it was finding the dog tags of the missing, even as much as it hurt to remember them all. But being able to deliver some small measure of closure and comfort to the families left behind...right now that's all I can do, but I'm glad I was able to do it.

This is going to sound absolutely crazy, maybe full of mystical, woo-woo bullshit, but I think that this was really the final step in the whole...rebuild Shepard process. The last tempering flame before the blade is ready. There are things that I still want or need to do, like finding you, but being there really gave me a sense of closure that I might not have experienced otherwise. Being there, finding the tags of all the missing, walking amongst the ruined pieces of our ship, our home...it hurt so much, but I feel stronger for having been there.

I've started plans for a memorial wall on this version of the ship, and I'm trying to find somewhere to make placards of the names of all the lost. Ashley, too, since she was such an important part of that crew, and she gave her life in service of the Normandy SR1. I don't care if the Cerberus handlers fight me on it, either. They put me in charge, they gave me the ship, they can bloody well live with what I decide to do with it and shut up about it. That way, I can make sure that our original crew will never be forgotten by anyone who serves on this ship, either.

I also have an idea of how bad it was when I was...retrieved. I found my old helmet, and...let's just say that it's definitely some kind of miracle that I'm sitting here, alive and breathing. It's...much as I hate to say it, it's a testament to all the work that Cerberus did to rebuild me. I knew things were bad. It took two years, after all, how could it not have been? But seeing the helmet just brought it all home and made me realize it was worse than I'd thought.

I left the helmet on my desk. I want it to be there. It's another reminder of what I've lost, but also, strangely, what I'm fighting for.

I wish you were here, Kaidan. I'll be forever grateful that I went to Alchera alone, but now that I'm back in my quarters on my own, I could really use that shoulder.

-Jane

They'd had her search through the wreckage of the Normandy? Kaidan was aghast, and rather tempted to punch Admiral Hackett as she'd requested, no matter the potential damage to his career. What exactly had they been trying to prove?

And why now? It wasn't as if they'd been completely unaware of the SR1's location, no matter what they might have suggested to Shepard. Even though they'd been unable to find and retrieve the black box (no surprise, considering the huge trail of wreckage that had been left behind), they'd still had to send a cruiser to pick up the crew that had been rescued from the escape pods by the human trading crew that had found them.

(In retrospect, they'd all been damned lucky that those traders had been close enough to pick up the distress beacon, and that they'd been friendly. The Terminus wasn't exactly the safest place in the galaxy, as Shepard was finding; it was a miracle they hadn't been retrieved by batarian slavers, or worse.)

Still, the Alliance had sent a cruiser for them, and Kaidan knew that the trading vessel's captain had provided all the data they'd collected about where and when they'd heard the beacon, and where they'd found the crew, including exact locations for each of the pods. Given so many of the crew were still missing, including Shepard, the cruiser had done a quick sweep of the area on its own to check for survivors or remains and to look for that black box, to no avail. Not that anyone had been surprised, but it was all part of standard procedure.

So...they'd known where the attack occurred and where the surviving crew aboard the escape pods had been retrieved. They'd known where the debris field was, which meant that they knew it had been Alchera that the Normandy was closest to. Again, Kaidan found himself asking why this had come up now. It just didn't make any sense that they hadn't sent a survey/clean-up team out immediately after it happened, so anything Shepard was sent to look for should have been found two years ago. That was Kaidan's understanding of how things usually worked, especially in cases where the ship's commanding officer was still missing.

Shepard aside, Kaidan mused, the Normandy had been top-of-the-line technology and a rather expensive investment, not just in time, but in collaboration with the turians. He was rather surprised to look back on things and find that it hadn't seemed like a priority for the Alliance (or the turians, for that matter) to retrieve what information they could on the attack that had destroyed their high-end prototype frigate so they could begin working on defenses against it for the rest of the fleet.

As he kept turning it over in his mind, it seemed like they'd tried to push more than just Shepard under the rug. Hero of the Citadel, her ship, and her crew, all marginalized as quickly as they possibly could have been. Maybe the Normandy's destruction had seemed like a blessing in disguise to them, he'd probably never know. All of the aliens returned to wherever they'd come from as quietly as possible, all the SR1's crew swiftly reassigned...and all to completely disparate postings. He'd been in such a daze just trying to get through it all that he'd just allowed it to happen and hadn't bothered keeping track of anyone, alien or human. Why hadn't he noticed all this before?

He was actively trying not to think about what Shepard had written about the condition of her helmet. N7 gear was notoriously hard to damage; it had to be, considering all the abuse that Ns were capable of heaping upon it, all the crazy things they did and walked away from. That it was damaged enough to make her remark on it, he couldn't even imagine what it must really look like. And to keep it on her desk? She was far braver than he was. That was not the kind of reminder that he'd want to be confronted with on a daily basis, a testament to perseverance or not.

His heart and his throat clenched, too, at her mention of needing a shoulder. He remembered well the first time she'd said something like that to him, and then at least, he'd been able to comply. Right now, reading these letters, he'd give anything to be able to do so again, even if all she ever wanted from him again was just a shoulder. Not for the first time, Kaidan was glad that Joker and Chakwas and even Garrus were out there with her. He hoped they'd be able to provide what he couldn't.

Even so...they'd left her to face Alchera alone. Granted, she'd wanted it that way, and Kaidan imagined that Shepard's talent for understatement was on display again, because he couldn't see any of them, particularly Joker and Garrus, backing down without a huge fight. He was sure that he'd have been able to find a way to get her to allow him to go...but if he'd been there, the whole situation might have been different to begin with.

All these what-ifs were going to drive him mad, he decided. Some of them had already driven him mad, for two years or more.

Kaidan set the datapad aside and rubbed his eyes wearily before getting to his feet. His beer was empty, his stomach was making strange noises, and he needed time to process all that he'd read so far. A distraction from those what-ifs. He picked up a carton of noodles and leaned against the counter while he ate, allowing (or, perhaps, forcing) his mind to wander as he looked absently out the window toward the lake. The Presidium had shifted back into its daytime cycle, and the activity outside had increased, making him grateful for the soundproof glass that protected his tiny apartment.

After making short work of the meal, he settled back on the couch with as clear a head as he could manage, feet propped up in front of him, fresh beer in hand, and keyed up the next letter. It was short and to the point, and had him sitting up straight, his gut in knots.

Normandy, captain's quarters, en route to Horizon

Dear Kaidan,

The Illusive Man just told me that you're on Horizon and that the Collectors are on the way there.

Hold on, Kaidan.

I'm coming.

-Jane

Kaidan had been waiting for this, had thought about skipping forward to it not all that long ago, but now that it was finally in front of him, anxiety curled in the pit of his stomach. He knew how it had ended (not well, his inner voice helpfully inserted), and he was already worried about how she'd felt about what he'd said, especially considering this tiny letter, when it seemed that all she could think about was getting to him.

He took a long swig of the beer next to him, emptying half the bottle in a single go, then took a deep breath and started to read on.

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