Holly was unsure as to exactly when she became aware of her surroundings. There was no slow, leisurely ascent from the darkness; one second, she was completely dead to the world, the next, awareness instantly switched on, finding her eyes already open, staring out at the room. Lying on her side on the floor.

One cheek was covered in something warm and wet; there was an acrid bite in her mouth, throat and nose. She reached over, and quickly realized she had vomited.

Dodged a bullet there. If I hadn't been lying on my side...

She wiped off her face, pushed herself up to a sitting position. Then took stock of her situation. First, figuring out her body. Something was completely off with it. Her sense of corporal self-perception was skewed; there was a shakiness in her bones, a curious lack of strength. It was hard to put her finger on it, but there was definitely a discontinuity between what her mind intuitively expected her body to be able to do, how her body reacted.

Second, trying to recall the last thing she was doing.

It was dark. I was in the living room, watching GNN, late at night, because of those fucking headaches I'm having.

She realized her head felt curiously light at the moment. Pain free, or at least painful in a different, less alarming sense.

They said something about the Council. About Tevos and Hackett resigning? And then...then?"

That was about the time she realized she was NOT in her living room. She stumbled over to the window in whatever place she WAS in, and discovered much to her shock and horror that she was in outer space. The gravity was clearly artificial; when you were a spacer long enough, you knew how to tell the difference. That meant a ship, or more likely, given the size of the room, a space station.

"Liara?" Holly called out experimentally.

I was...yelling, screaming out to her, for help.

"Liara?" she called out again, louder now.

Her heart began to beat harder in her chest. This was not a dream, that much was for certain. She was never the lucid dreaming type, always prided herself on knowing the difference between dream real and real real.

She needed to figure out what was going on, as soon as possible.

Have to assume I've been kidnapped, or am otherwise in a hostile situation.

Still, if she was being held prisoner, whomever did it knew how to treat their captives. Nice, roomy, fancy looking apartment. Rather familiar though. It looked heavily lived in, barely picked up after. Vaguely reminiscent of her own apartments in her bachelorette days. Someone had lived here for several weeks, and chances were good that someone was her.

Things took a curious turn when she found her gun on the desk, next to a beaten up computer terminal. Loaded at that, looked like it was usable.

Who gives a prisoner a gun?

Something about this place was pinging her memory, in a big way. There was a solitary object d'art, a picture of some sort, on one of the walls. One she knew she had seen years before. Even made a comment on it.

...to Morinth, when I was...

Oh shit!

She was in Morinth's apartment. Her old apartment, on Omega.

Oh double shit!

For a moment, her hands trembled, and she tried to swallow down a sense of turbocharged panic. Was she still back there? Still back in 2185? Had the past eight years been what? An illusion? A lie? Had Morinth overwhelmed her after all, and begun the meld? Was Holliandra Shepard, the real one, still back in that apartment, moments away from her death, and this was all some sort of mental representation of that meld?

She tried to keep herself from hyperventilating.

"Okay"

"Oh God."

"Oh God!"

"Get a hold of yourself, babe."

It was too perfect for a meld. It had to be! There was too much of a life that she could remember, too many details, to be that good. She had melded countless times with Liara, knew the difference by now.

Didn't she?

She went back to the computer terminal. There had to be records there. Hopefully. Something that could help her fill in the missing blanks. She sat down, and while she couldn't remember the login password that was being requested, her hands flew of their own accord, in well practiced execution of muscle memory.

She felt the bile rise to her throat when she saw the time and date displayed in the corner of the screen.

UTC: 2196.231

August 18th, according to the old Earth calendar. The year 2196.

"That...can't...can't be!"

It had to be a trick. She had read about these techniques in the past. Ways to brainwash or otherwise disorient a prisoner Completely screw with their memory, their perception of reality.

In HER memory, she had just turned forty, barely a week ago. Not the best birthday ever, given her increasing headaches and grumpiness. But she REMEMBERED it, like it WAS barely a week ago.

On the terminal, she found files. Journals, logs. They weren't in great shape, running on such a cobbled-together antique, but it was something she could look through. Assuming she could trust a damn word of it.

Over the next hour, Holly read with increasing horror of the days of the life of another woman. Another life, broken, twisted. A Holliandra Shepard that was almost entirely unrecognizable. One who had stolen over two years of HER life, on a mad quest to save the galaxy from the Reapers. Reapers who continued to be as polite as they ever had been, since the day of the Pulse.

The things she did.

The people she pushed away, or worse.

The great steel block that sat heavily in the gap of her memories between April 2194 and today began to corrode as she read on. Dribs and drabs slowly leaking out at first, but building to an ever increasing torrent as she continued on.

I remember now...I remember...

But not perfectly. Oh, certainly, she remembered the objective detail. What she did, what she said. But much of the subjective context was missing. The why.

She remembered being able to perceive complex mathematics and dark energy physics in a way that put most of the best minds in the galaxy to shame, but damn if she could recall anything past the normal calculus she was capable of at the moment.

She remembered there were voices. In her mind. She remembered behaving...mad. Irrational. Insane. She just couldn't remember why. The skewed logic of the deranged mindset was lost to her now.

It was as if someone had switched her off in 2194, swapped in some strange Bizarro Holly, and set her loose on the galaxy. Only for her, the REAL Shepard, to be switched back on, and left with a mind-boggling mess of a life, and memories of the things...

...OH FUCK! Liara! How could she have left her? And the kids?

Samantha! She had pulled a gun on her and...

Garrus! What the hell did she say to...

Holly experienced something she would later describe as a full blown, panic-induced existential crisis. The room spun around her. She felt completely disconnected, disassociated from herself, screaming and crying for help.

By the time she came back to herself, she was in the shower; curled up and huddling in the corner, still dressed. Shivering madly underneath rivulets of ice-cold water. She crawled over, pulled herself up by the handle installed on the wall, slowly, calmly removed her now-sopping clothes, tossed them out of the stall, and changed the water temperature to hot.

With equal grace and aplomb, she stepped out of the shower after a good long while, toweled herself off, knelt down at the foot of the toilet, and proceded to once again vomit, until there was nothing left at all in her stomach. It took her a while to fight through the dry heaves, but she eventually pulled herself back together again. Feeling mildly human once more.

She needed a plan. Needed to figure out how she was going to put her life back together. But more importantly, she needed answers. Having just been through put the worst wringer imaginable, bereft of most of her friends and family, there was a slow, deep, burning anger smoldering to life, at the seat of her soul.

More than answers, she wanted revenge.

Someone was going to pay for this.

Someone was going to give meaning to this anger, this thick, viscous hatred burbling heavily through her.

Her first instinct was to contact Liara. Make sure she was safe, make sure the kids were fine. She had almost finished punching in the last digits of the contact code before she paused.

And tell her...what? "Sorry babe, I was insane. But good news! I got better. No, I really don't have the slightest idea why I went crazy-go-nuts. Can I please come home now?"

She covered her face up, began to sob, banging her head on the desk in frustration.

God! Why was she so...so out of control, so anxious? Physically, more than mentally.

And then it hit her.

She was an alcoholic, now. Worse, she also had a dependency on benzodiazepine.

She poured herself a drink, making herself sip slowly, despite how much her instinct was to guzzle it down. The shakes began to subside.

This was bad. She was going to have to get her hands on a dry-out kit, start weaning herself off. Even with the wonders of modern medical science, she was in for an unpleasant time of it. Going cold turkey now might kill her, or make her wish she was dead.

Fuck you, you stupid other-Me! Bitch! Could you not have left my body in halfway decent shape?

Then again, given how tormented Bizarro Shepard seemed to have been, maybe it all made sense. Was the only thing keeping her going. Holly began to remember it with increasing clarity. The pain. Being driven to the heights of despair. Trying to get some relief, some comfort.

Oh God. What does that say about me now? As a person. How easily I fell apart, how I went insane?

And now that was all gone, like the magic trick where the tablecloth gets quickly yanked away, leaving the dishes and glasses wobbling for just for a second. That was what she was feeling, right this instant: she was all wobbly dishes and glasses.

It was about the time she noticed a flashing button at her terminal. It was coming from the so-called Reaper black box she was studying just a few scant hours ago.

She looked down at it, and spoke out loud.

"Whatever you are, I'm asking that you please not fuck me up again. I just got my life back and I'm having tremendous problems dealing with it already."

She quickly, gingerly tapped the flashing panel on the device, as if it might suddenly burn or snap her finger off, then jumped back. The artifact opened up, unfolding itself into something that resembled a tiny holographic emitter, like the kind used in a QEC.

A bright white cloud of vaporous light resolved itself into a roughly circular shape, floating almost ten feet above the ground. It was as if Holly were staring into an open portal to some other strange dimension. Dark lines began to constrain and define the shapeless white. A few seconds later, splashes of chaotic color were added to the mix: two spots of green, and above them, serpentine tendrils of deep crimson, floating as if blown softly about in some eternal windstorm.

Shepard stifled a gasp of surprise as she recognized who she was looking at.

Herself.

White, featureless, save for the black lines defining the body - at least from the waist up - and face. Green eyes. Red hair.

Holly felt her hand go instinctively for her gun, prided herself that she managed to stop from actually pulling it out. Refusing to demonstrating that level of outright fear.

The holographic being finally spoke. Her voice was echoey and flanged, much like the Drell or the Turians. There was more than one; rather, different voices all spoke with one purpose. In the mixture was Holly's own. It dominated the chorus. There was another synthetic voice, something close to what she always associated with Sovereign and Harbinger. The third was heavy, gravelly. Vaguely familiar to her, but she was still unable to identify it. There wasn't much in the way of emotional tone coloring the chorus, but neither did it sound completely devoid. It was there, but in very subtle gradations, like washed out pastels.

"You survived the neural recalibration." She sounded neither upset or elated. Simply stating a matter of fact. As if she had expected the outcome.

Holly pumped up her voice with bravado, and replied, "What? I'm sorry, was that not the point? You'll have to do better than that if you want to kill me."

The hologram gave a patient sigh, and a gentle shake of her head. "If it was our intent to see you dead, you never would have been...but we are getting ahead of ourselves. No. Objectively, we knew from the beginning how this would play out. It does not mean that our subjective self was not concerned. For your safety. Hopeful you would survive."

They stared at each other silently, before Holly asked, in a much quieter voice this time.

"What are you?"

The hologram turned her head slightly, the merest wisp of a smile touching her lips. She spoke, but it was as if she were sharing a private joke with someone out of sight.

"It seems that is always the first question asked." She then turned back to Holly. "We are that which was created, and in turn became the creator."

Holly squeezed,frustrated, at her nose. "Great. Riddles. Fucking riddles."

"It is difficult. For us. To communicate at such a limited level. It becomes more difficult with each passing second. It is fortunate that at the subjective level, we discovered what had happened in time, the flaw in the execution. And that we were able to correct for it. Even though, objectively, events are, as always, pre-ordained."

Holly snorted in disbelief. "You act as if you can see the future."

"You act as if the future is somehow truly separate from the present or the past."

Holly gave a snarl. This wasn't getting her what she wanted.

She stepped forward, looking up at the floating image and asked with a steely voice.

"Who are you? Are you the Reapers? Are you the ones who fucked me up? Are you the reason I'm in this...this NIGHTMARE right now?"

The hologram gave her something which might almost be described as a matronly look, humming softly for a moment before answering. "In order then: We are not what you call The Reapers. We are OF them, but they are no more us than your parents or your children are you. We have given ourselves no name, though our children insist on calling us the Y'gis-Nataal. Literally, 'That Which Was Created To Defend.', in the original language of the Sh'iguth'kthul'n.

"Gesundheit." Holly quipped.

"As for your other questions: No. We did not, as you put it, fuck you up." She smiled, oh so gently. "You did. To your own self."

Holly's jaw dropped.

"I don't understand a damn thing you just said, but I'm pretty sure it's all bullshit!"

"Of course you don't believe it. How could you, at least at this temporal juncture? You lack the context, the understanding. It will come in time. But know this: you were warned at the time. What you were attempting to do. Sadly, you failed to heed those warnings. But that is...behind?...us now."

Holly stamped her foot down, wincing for a moment, realizing how childish it must have seemed.

"Damnit! No! I want...I want REAL answers! None of this weird space-magic talk you're engaging in! I want a real point A to B story. I don't care if it starts with the words 'Once upon a time...' or 'A long time ago in a galaxy far far away...' but you fucking make me understand what you did to me!"

She was trembling. God, she could really use another drink.

There was a pause, before the construct calling itself the Y'gis-Nataal spoke.

"Three weeks. Four days. The coordinates are now on your omnitool. One week, five days from now, you attempt to board a high-speed courier ship, the Vasudeva. You will not make it."

Holly planted her hands defiantly on her hips. "Oh? Is that some kind of threat? What, are you going to have one of your minions off me on the way to your ridiculously obvious trap?"

The Y'gis-Nataal closed her eyes for a moment, the way a parent might, when drawing upon strength to deal with an infuriatingly obstinate child.

"It is merely how events play out along this timeline. You will appreciate us leaving the rest for you to discover."

"No! Whatever you have to tell me, whatever explanations, you tell me now, damnit! You tell me what I need to now, so I can get back to picking up the pieces of the life you shattered!"

She clenched her jaw tight, raising a hand up to her chest, and feeling how hard her heart was working. She was becoming irrational. Emotional. A wreck.

It's just the physical side effects. Just this screwed up body I got back. You're going to be okay. Cool it down, Holly. Cool it down.

"Subjectively, we considered telling you here, in this place. This temporal juncture. Then realized it would deprive you of the deeper understanding that you so richly deserve, have suffered too long without. Also, fifty six seconds ago, we made another scan of the room, and realized that other key factors were suddenly in play, ones that would change the outcome. Objectively, We soon will tell you. We have already told you. We are telling you now. But not in this place, this time, as you perceive it."

Tentatively, Holly pulled up her Omnitool. Checked the coordinates that had been fed to it.

"Are you shitting me? There? Three weeks? And what happens if I can't make it in time?"

"If that were to happen, the available window in which we are able to...interface with you, at this level, would begin to pass. To the point where it would be impossible for us to communicate. Time is sadly, of the essence. Fortunately for you, you make it."

The Y'gis-Nataal seemed to lean in, as she added, "Spare a kind thought for all those versions of you who did not, for whatever myriad reasons. The Shepards who fell by the wayside, who never found the strength to move forward, recover. Never found peace."

"What...what does that mean?"

There was an over-long pause, before the Y'gis-Nataal answered.

"No. Not like this, not as we are now. Once more perhaps, many centuries forward. But you won't find the outcome satisfying. We are...sorry, for that."

"Wait, what? You just gave me some mumbo-jumbo about how fucking blessed I am or something. Make up your damn mind!"

The projection of the Y'Gis-Nataal seemed to shimmer, fuzz out, then focus itself back to tight clarity.

"Apologies. We are answering a question asked by another. At a different point in time from your own. We became momentarily...confused. It is increasingly difficult for us to focus on any one singular point. Come to us, and we will bring you the rest of the way. You will have the answers you need. Three weeks. Four days."

Before Holly could say anything more, the Y'gis-Nataal was gone. The device that transmitted her image began to judder and smoke, bursting quickly into flames, until it was nothing more than useless slag.

In a momentary state of shock, Holly drifted over to one of the windows. She allowed her head to fall forward, clunking against the hard surface.

Wide eyed, she said to herself, "That was officially the most fucked up conversation I have EVER had in my life."

Or was it?

There was another one once. A long while back. Something she still didn't remember all the details of. At the Citadel, on the last day of the War. A decision needed to be made. About how to deal with the Reapers, once and for all . And there were consequences that had to be accepted.

Beyond that, she simply couldn't remember anything more. She might not know the answers, but she just knew it had something to do with that one day.

Her eyes widened, as she gasped in surprised, realizing there was a question - the MOST important question - she had utterly neglected to ask.

Why the hell did that thing look and sound like me?

She had to get off this station. She had to get off it soon. Two, maybe three days at most. But she was in no shape to do it alone. She had no ship, and Aria made it clear over the past few weeks that while she was playing nice for now...

"...this spider won't be letting her pretty fly leave the web anytime soon."

There was no doubt some sort of standing order forbidding ship captains from giving her passage off station. She might be able to fight it, bribe her way off, do SOMETHING...but if this window she was looking at was truly that narrow, for whatever purpose? She'd never make it in time.

She needed a stealth rig. She might be able to sneak off the station eventually. But again, time would prove to be her enemy.

If only there was someone else close by who could lend a hand.

She turned, leaned her hip hard against the window, and heard a soft, metallic *THUNK*.

Reaching in to her pocket, she extracted the rectangular business card that Kasumi had left with her. Smacked her forehead as she studied it. Quickly realized exactly what this meant to her.

Holly laughed loudly.

"Oh my God. You have to be kidding. You have to be totally fucking kidding me."

It was almost too perfect. Part of her wondered if it was a trap.

But it was the only opportunity she had. And dammit, she was going to take it.

Holly punched the numbers in, and was relieved to hear Kasumi answering after a few seconds. That was a good sign. Probably meant she was still on the station somewhere.

"Shep?" she yawned, murmuring sleepily. "Look, I had a nice time, but it's a little late to pick up with the girl talk. Irresistible as I know I must be."

"Kasumi. Is this an encrypted channel?"

"...you're joking right? Do people even communicate on non-encrypted channels anymore? Not in my world. You have no idea how much money I paid to make sure no one can listen in on this connection."

"You said the next time there was an adventure, you wanted in. I have an adventure now. You want in?"

There was a brief pause. Kasumi was clearly trying to play it nonchalant and cool, working to keep the gleeful anticipation out of her voice.

"Will there be excitement?"

"I know I'm pretty damn excited right now. A bunch of other things too. But excitement, yeah."

"How about really wild things?"

"You have. No clue. Whatsoever. If you could have seen what just happened in my apartment."

"How much money are we talking?"

"Um...probably none? Maybe a small token amount somewhere. Honestly, I'm going to have to hit YOU up for credits most of the way. But I promise I'll pay you back."

"Doesn't matter. Two out of three isn't bad in this case. It won't do us any good to meet at your place. Or where I'm staying. Right. I'm going to send you a location Get there in an hour, and we'll conspire. Oh! I love that word. Conspire."

"Alright. See you then."

Despite herself, Holly smiled. Her mood surprisingly jubilant when, all things considered, she really had no right to be. Her marriage appeared to be in utter shambles. She had completely managed to alienate most of her friends. Had asked others to do stupid, terrible things for her. She had massive chemical dependencies that no doubt would have killed her by now save for the cybernetics in her body. And she was an unwilling guest of the Queen of Omega, who had developed a strange, possessive fixation on her.

It was not an exaggeration to state that this was probably the lowest point in her entire life. But she was never so optimistic, than she was at this moment.

It just felt that good to be sane again. Or at least less crazy.


In late breaking news, the Council has declared the Reapers a protected species, after months of deliberation and public consultation. As expected, the Turians voted to deny; though the Salarians gave no public indication, rumors persisted until the last moment that they were planning to vote no as well. The final tally, however, was four to one.

Officially beginning at midnight, Citadel time, the Reapers will classified as a protected endangered species, similar to dolphin pods on Earth, or klemtar hounds on Palaven. Reapers may not be approached closer than half a light year or otherwise interacted with, barring special Council approval. Their movements will continue to be otherwise monitored.

An hour after the vote, a brief Reaper transmission was received, expressing gratitude for the decision, and re-confirming their intention to stay as far away from shipping lanes and population centers as possible.

When pressed for comment, Human Councilor Claudette Veilleux had the following statement to make...

Holly ignored the news feed softly blaring in the background. She had much bigger problems to attend to at the moment.

"Wait, what do you mean our tickets were cancelled?"

It had been precisely one week, five days since her grand adventure with Kasumi had begun. Kasumi had a stealth rig for her to use, and was even able to help her acquire a dry-out kit: essentially, a series of dermal patches that released controlled, and ultimately decreasing amounts of specially tailored benzodiazepines, design to otherwise not interact with the opiate-antagonists that that would help wean her off alcohol, per the standard Sinclair Method for medically treating alcohol dependency. She was constipated as hell, a solid night's sleep continued to elude her, and she still suffered the shakes on occasion, but her system was well-cushioned from the worst of the withdrawal.

It had been touch and go the night they made their escape from Omega. Shepard had to play pretend for a day, continue on with her routines, play at being as broken as she had been in the past. She also thought it might be useful to make an appearance at Afterlife. Give Aria feelers that perhaps her resolve was beginning to crumble. Feed the Queen just enough to give her hope, so that she'd be, with luck, a touch less suspicious of her for a little while. Or more. But that's why they called it a calculated risk.

But Holky also appreciated that leading Aria along and then bugging out would rub salt in the wound when she finally left. Childish as it might be, it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Kasumi had little trouble getting a stealthed Holly onto her ship, but she was questioned overly long by a suspicious customs control agent. He didn't like that Kasumi was leaving early; asked several pointed questions about Holly. Made it clear that he knew the two of them had been seen together in public on multiple occasions. Inspection teams went through the ship three times over, with Holly constantly struggling to stay one step ahead of them, before they gave up, and let them go with a warning not to come back for a while.

Once Aria discovered she was gone, Shepard knew she could never return to Omega again. In her mind, the one and only downside to that was missing out on Bledok's cooking, but she had his number, and maybe he'd be willing to come visit and cater a party for her. A big ass welcome home party. Didn't matter if she and Kasumi and Kolyat were the only ones there. She was going to celebrate, God damnit, when this was all over. Even if it turned out that everything else in her life had gone irreparably tits up.

It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself. Bravado was the blinders she wore for the moment, to blunt the full impact that contemplating a life without Liara had on her heart.

From Omega, it was a straight shot to the Citadel. Kasumi's personal transport was fast, but it still sported a legacy FTL drive. They needed a lift on one of the new enhanced core ships that were now just starting to hit the civilian market. Unfortunately, they were still but a miniscule handful, and in high demand. As luck would have it, there was one ship that was available for charter, that could take the two of them out to a specific point between the Kitsune and Bishamon systems in the time remaining.

A brand new Thexder-class high-speed cruiser. The Vasudeva. Available for hire from an expedition company called A'Lan-Pitor, which was some joint Asari-Human run enterprise.

The Salarian at the service desk looked over to Holly. "Apologies, Ma'am. Will be compensated, of course. Ship has been commandeered, by Spectre authority. Classified mission. Vasudeva was ordered to depart three hours ago."

"What? Fucking...who? Which Spectre? I might not have authority anymore, but God damn..."

The Salarian flattened his horns back. He knew exactly who was currently chewing him out. Holliandra Shepard was back, and she wasn't hiding the fact, either.

"I...normally, should not reveal...but...since it is you. Spectre agent did not specifically ask to keep identity off records. Spectre Vasir is whom you should complain to."

Holly blinked in started surprise.

"Vasir? Waitwaitwait, Vasir?! No way. I...I totally shot her. Like, a lot. She was...Kasumi, back me up on this, didn't she die?"

Kasumi gave a slow shrug, "I don't know why you're asking me, Shep. I wasn't there. Remember?"

Holly blushed, a sheepish expression coming over her face. "Right. Yeah. Sorry Kas."

You should have been.

In the almost two weeks that she had gotten to know Kasumi Goto, Holly discover, much to her horror and shame, that she had made a terrible mistake in being as obstinate as she had been ten years ago. The two had settled into a quick, easy friendship, at a time where Holly was grateful for any and every friend she could find.

No, more than just friend. Holly realized that she was part of The Family now. Or rather, she should have been. Would have been. If they had picked her up in time, she would have been by their side. Assuming Kasumi made it out alive from the raid on the Collector Base, she would have been there in her life, the same way as Miranda. Ash. Garrus. Even Javik.

Well, it's too late to change the past. But here's the present, and the future.

The Salarian clerk blinked, "Referring to Tela Vasir? Apologies, you are mistaken. Yannika Vasir is agent who has commandeered Vasudeva. Understandable mistake. Tela's younger sister."

Holly's lips formed an O that she covered with her hand.

"Crap. Didn't know she had a...hmmm. Well, there's a potentially unpleasant future confrontation." She then mumbled to herself, "Mental note: Ask Ash about her."

"Have now refunded ticket price back to Ms. Goto's account. Would you care to book passage on another flight?"

Holly shook her head. "No...no not at this time. We need to figure some shit out. Thanks though."

"Of course. Thank you for understanding. Pleasant day."

Ten minutes later, the two were camped out at a nearby snack bar. Kasumi delicately munched on some mochi cakes while Shepard savagely tore into a chocolate croissant.

"God damnit!" she mumbled through her half-chewed bite. "The curse came true, just like the old gypsy woman said it would." She paused, taking a long slug from her cup of coffee. "Now what do we do?"

"That's a very strange coincidence, Shep. I mean, what you told me, about the hologram. How she predicted this would occur."

"Yeah. Yeah, pretty fucked up. Oh! And thanks for not thinking I'm crazy, when I told you about that."

Kasumi smiled. "I never said I didn't think you were. I'm just not letting it get in the way of a good time."

Holly gave a snort, then sighed heavily. "Okay. Well, we're fucked, but the Y'gis-Nataal said I'd make it. She was kinda insistent about it. Told me to be grateful. So...how does it happen?"

"Maybe we're supposed to keep looking, keep asking around until we find a ship that can take us? We can't just assume that if we just sit here, an opportunity will magically fall into our laps. Believe me, I've been making that wish since I was seven, and it's yet to happen."

There was a clearing of someone's throat, before a soft-spoken, flanged voice joined the conversation.

"Pardon me, ladies. I couldn't help but overhear that you were looking to acquire the services of an especially fast ship."

Shepard managed to get the napkin up to her mouth before the coughing set in, catching coffee and chewed croissant. She knew the voice. Could recognize it in her sleep. She turned around with an almost exaggerated slowness, and found him standing there. Dressed in the Turian equivalent of a rather fashionable business suit.

Garrus Vakarian.

What happened next occurred exclusively by instinct; Holly didn't even realize she was hugging him, or how tightly, until he made mention of it.

"Shepard! Ah...glad to see you to. But I really enjoy...respiration as well!"

He was hugging her back, all the same.

She finally let go, swallowed hard, and looked up at him. "Oh God! Garrus. I am...I am so glad to see you! You have no idea, literally NO idea. And I know I went crazy a while back, and said some really awful things to you, but I...well, believe me when I say I finally have my shit back together. And I'm just about to find out what caused all this, what ruined everything. And...and did I say I'm sorry?"

She reached up, laughing and wiping her wet eyes. Internally, she chided herself,

Great job trying to convince him you're not insane. Jesus.

Garrus gave the Turian equivalent of a magnanimous smile, gently gripping Holly's arms.

"You just did. And I know. You need to get to an equidistant point between Kitsune and Bishamon in a short span of time, in order to meet with whatever the Reapers have become. That's actually why I'm here."

The bottom nearly fell out of Holly's mind.

"Okay, no offense, but WHAT THE FUCK, Garrus? How could you possibly...?"

"Because I'm just that good, Shepard. So amazingly good. I even surprise myself."

Holly gave him an expression that told him she wasn't buying any of that.

"Well, there IS more to the story, I suppose. No doubt, you have a million questions to ask, but before you do, come with me. I have something I want to show you. Something that will no doubt lift your spirits."

Kasumi cleared her throat, in a very quiet, but pointed fashion.

Holly blanched at her thoughtlessness, "Oh geezus. Yes! Sorry...Ah...Garrus! This is Kasumi Goto. Kas, this is Garrus Vakarian."

"Goto? Goto." Garrus began to muse over the name, then lit up. "Hey! Wasn't she the thief that Cerberus hired? That you decided that you weren't...OOF!"

Shepard reflexively jabbed him in the ribs, cheeks flushed as she quickly added, "...wasn't going to delay in picking up and adding to the team! Except the Collectors kidnapped everyone first. Yes! THAT Kasumi Goto. Whom I'm very happy to have in my life now, and without whom I would never have made it this far."

If Kasumi took note of what Holly was trying to cover up, she said nothing. Merely smiled, and murmured, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Also, this is a lovely pocket watch. Teldavian Primacy era from the look of it, three hundred years ago, correct?" She then handed something back to Garrus. Who blinked, checked his pockets, and nodded appreciatively as they shook hands.

Garrus gently guided Holly by the arm. "Come with me, both of you? Let me bring you over to the window. Then I'll be happy to answer all your questions."

They walked down to the other end of the docking level before Garrus finally stopped them. He stepped back, held out his arms with showman-like flourish and said, "I believe you Humans have a phrase appropriate for moments like this: Et, Voila!"

Holly stepped forward, close to the window, not immediately sure what it was she was supposed to see. But once she spotted it, she couldn't help but berate herself for not noticing immediately.

Partially obscured by the docking arm, but its identity still obvious from the shape and markings.

Normandy SR-2

Her face and hands planted against the glass, she softly called out, almost reverently, "Garrus...how...how did you even?"

He tch'ed. "All in due time. I just thought you might like a minute to drink in the full richness of this moment."

Drinkwas an appropriate metaphor; it was like a cold, refreshing glass of water in the desert. Holly felt as if she could stare at her first command for hours. The Normandy - both of them really, for both carried the same spirit - was special beyond compare. A physical representation of a wholly remarkable chapter of her life. She never realized until this very moment how much it had broken her heart seeing it utilized as a part of Ortiz's black ops program. But now, here. With Garrus presenting it, she just knew in her heart of hearts that the Normandy was back. Her Normandy. The one she remembered, with that particular spirit she so desperately needed right now. Of taking on impossible odds, defying all naysayers, and succeeding when she had no real right to do so.

Didn't even matter if she was just a civilian passenger now, if someone else was calling the shots. As long as she was aboard that ship, with Garrus and Kasumi by her side, there wasn't anything she couldn't accomplish.

In that moment, she understood what The Illusive Man must have felt, upon his dying glimpse of Earth.

The Normandy was perfect. Beautiful.

Watch out, you assholes. We're coming. We're coming in style. We're coming for answers.

Pray I like what you have to say.


A/N: Hey there! Hope you enjoyed this one. I am currently sick as a dog, and yet more or less had no choice but to work 70 hours this week, with another vicious week coming up. So I am going to guess the next chapter is coming out before the end of the month. Beyond that...I couldn't guess.

A big thank you to all the lovely people who have taken the time to write in and tell me how much they are enjoying this particular arc. It's hella frustrating to be stuck unable to write due to all this real life crap but..ah..this too will pass.

Yannika Vasir is, of course, a creation of Theodur's, who was kind enough to let me name drop her.

Many, many thank yous, as always, to Corentin IV, who just put out a fantastic chapter in her own series, and who still finds time to help me edit my stuff.

Hope folks had a great Fathers Day today (if you are in the US). Here's hoping Holly gets to be with her own kids soon, as well.

BTW: Anyone remember Claudette? From chapter 30? Looks like she came up in the world. :-D