"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

It's not warm when she's away

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And she's always gone too long

Anytime she goes away"

Bill Withers, Ain't No Sunshine

Four minutes later, he was in his seat again and looking over the telemetry data. Turning a ship into an about face in FTL was no small task even with AI assistance. He could feel the Normandy shudder and strain against almost incalculable shearing forces as he eased her into the manoeuvre, sliding up and rolling around, using the gravity of a star nearby as a slingshot. She was one of the only ships capable of completing a U-Turn without dropping to sublight first - but capable didn't also mean advisable. Still, he knew when to smooth out the arc of her turn, when she could handle more and when she needed less. EDI took care of minute compensations as he inched her through the delicate procedure.

As the vector aligned, he heard footsteps clicking their way up to the cockpit. Shepard stood a few paces behind his chair, her sleek black and green armour polished to a fine gloss, helmet tucked between her hip and elbow. It was the first time he'd seen her in armour since her injury and his eyes fell to the newly replaced calf section. She still favoured the leg a little, he could tell. Shepard's gloved fingers curled around the top of his headrest.

"How long until we get there?" she asked as she stared ahead, out at the stars. Her voice exuded control and authority.

"Not long. Twenty minutes. I didn't lose us any momentum on the turn."

"Good. They say it was disabled by a turian patrol."

Maybe there's something to be said for the krogan approach to racy calendars, he thought as he took another look at her. The sight of her ready to go down on a mission filled him with fire; a kind of fierce hope and unshakable confidence. As he looked at her in that moment, he felt steadfast faith swell in his chest.

"Must be some patrol. Well, we're prepared for whatever happens," he said with a nod. She lingered over his shoulder a moment. Over the time he'd spent under her command, Joker learned to read her well. She shook out her leg. She reached up and touched the bridge of her nose at that spot where some of the old scar still peeked through and traced its path down her cheek in a slow, deliberate way - a clear tell. She's nervous. She doesn't think she's ready. His stomach clenched with the visceral understanding that this first time back in armour might also be her last time. What if he just spent his last minutes alone with her arguing about nothing?

He wanted to say something meaningful, to tell her how important she was to him, but as usual, what came out of his mouth was something different. "Hey, you already picked out your toys for today?" Her hand came down to rest on his shoulder. He resisted the urge to reach up and keep it there. I'm sorry I was a dick, he thought, but didn't dare say it out loud.

"Yeah. Let's hope I don't need them."

"Hey," he said and looked up at her. "I'll see you when you get back."

"You'll know where to find me," she said with a soft smile. He watched her go, headed towards the airlock, still favouring that leg. He turned his attention to the panels in front of him, burying himself in the tasks at hand to avoid paying attention to the heaviness in his chest any longer. She'll be back.

Sixteen minutes later - he knew because he eyed the clock - the Collector's ship came within visual range. It hung like a great tumour in space, its rocky bulk standing out as unusual. He felt something small and cold in the pit of his stomach as he continued the approach and looked out to see the hulk with his own eyes. As its mass filled his view, dread prised its way into his mind like so many skeletal fingers. It looked familiar. The ship glided past a colossal steel spire jutting out of the Collector vessel like a huge tooth.

"I don't like this," he heard Shepard mutter over the comm. "This is eerie." Neither Garrus nor Grunt responded. The shuttle, dwarfed by the colossal ship, looked like a tiny white breadcrumb as it fell away from the Normandy. He stared at the sensor readouts and listened for tell-tale sounds of disembarkation.

"EDI," he said and looked toward the holographic projector. It flickered to life. "I want you to run some numbers for me."

The results would take time, but Joker felt in his gut that he already knew the answer. He scanned the fissures in the craggy sides of the vessel. This thing looks like a wasp nest, he thought, reminded of old nature vids from Earth. Something about its lack of consistency and uniformity bothered him and the more he looked, the more he felt certain of the truth. He swallowed hard as he triple-checked the emissions. No… Thrusters are still cold. Weapons still offline… He wrapped around the ship for another pass, searching for a trajectory that would allow him to spring into action should Shepard need out fast. As he passed by the thing's front, he found himself staring into the yawning abyss that, according to scans, was the barrel of its weapon. The entire front of the ship spanned several cities across and acted as the condenser for a particle beam. With his spare hand he reached up and flipped the thing off. Petty, but it felt good.

Every minute of the last hour was an age. EDI's confirmation was little more than a formality to him. The same ship. It's the same one that killed us last time. He had nothing to do but stare at the thing and stew. Though his sensors showed nothing and displays remained static, he felt sure that the Collectors were in there skulking around. Watching, waiting; this had to be a trap. Comm chatter between Shepard and her team was calm, all things considered. The ship seemed empty; dead. And yet, as the team made their way toward the center of the enemy vessel, he found his heart in the back of his throat. He frowned, drumming his fingers against his armrest.

"Primary systems still offline," EDI said. "Weapons still offline. I am detecting a fluctuation in the main power grid."

"How much of a fluctuation?"

"Point zero zero zero three percent of the estimated operational output is now being consumed."

"Great," he muttered. "Someone's turned on the kitchen lights." He checked the movement sensors. Shepard and her team were taking their time, advancing through each section of the ship at a pace he could only describe as a painful crawl. Although he appreciated her caution, he wanted her to just get through the place, see what needed to be seen and get out so that… So what? So someone 'more qualified' can go in? More like… so someoneI don't know can go in, he thought, with some guilt. Shepard's breathing was slow and steady as she pressed on, a sharp contrast to the adrenaline he could feel flowing through his every vein. He wondered what she was seeing. From her occasional comments, he imagined the ship's walls to be covered in porous gobs, oozing a thick and viscous slime. The image wasn't pretty and as he watched her movement tracker come to a stop yet again, he couldn't imagine what had her so captivated.

The comm crackled to life. "Considering most of the atmosphere in here was vented, the temperature is off the chart," he heard her say. She sounded fascinated. "It's like the walls are… radiating heat."

An old vid he'd seen as a kid came to mind. It was ancient - filmed on Earth almost two hundred and fifty years ago. The story involved marines sent to investigate a seemingly abandoned colony just to find it covered in weird, bony growths. Shining black monsters lived in the walls. The scene didn't end well for them. His thoughts were cut short by the sound of Shepard's gasp.

"My god…" she whispered. "This place is… it's huge."

"They could take every human in the Terminus systems and still not fill all these pods," said Garrus. After what Joker interpreted as a stunned silence, he heard grim certainty in Garrus' voice as he added, "They're going to target Earth."

Earth, he thought as a cold feeling all anew settled over him. The idea hadn't occurred to him before but now the pieces all fell into place. Surely Earth was untouchable; a bastion of safety in the shape of a garden world. Colonies run into trouble and there've been occupations in the past, but Earth? The scale of such a thing was too big to imagine.

He looked up from the displays and down into the cavernous void that was the barrel of the Collectors' monumental weapon. The machine that lay deep within was the very same that had had caused him to lie awake every night for years. Seething rage filled his entire being as he stared into it.

Because of this thing, he suffered constant, humiliating scrutiny before the Alliance saw fit to rip his wings off, adding insult to injury. Because of this thing, when faced with a choice between a future where he never flew again, or one where he worked for an organisation he knew could be called terrorists, the decision had been so easy to make, it was embarrassing. In the wake of the Normandy's destruction he had lived in his own personal hell for two years after he lost the woman he cared most about. Yeah, well, don't you worry, girls. He patted the Normandy's console and thought of Shepard creeping through the ship. I'm not asleep at the wheel this time.

/ / / / / /

Shepard stared slack-jawed into the vast expanse inside the ship. There had to be millions of pods, each one about nine feet tall and four feet wide. They glowed, dotting the walls and ceilings in neat rows. This arrangement of pods was the only thing about the ship that looked organised. She looked at one next to her. Somewhere in this hollow hell there was a pod they intended for her. A knot formed in her throat as she imagined one of the Collectors stuffing Joker into a pod and she gripped her rifle harder. I won't let that happen. "Come on. Let's move out."

"The ground here's softer, like walking on loose soil," said Garrus, kicking at the dirt. She looked back at him. She couldn't see his expression through his opaque faceplate, but the turian tilted his head.

"Yeah. Why do you suppose that is?" she wondered aloud.

"A lot of this seems biomechanical." He looked into the distance. "Maybe the pods are grown, rather than manufactured?" Garrus pointed ahead. "Look. A command console." The path narrowed, leading to a circular outcropping in the centre of which stood a small pillar.

"Where is everybody?" Grunt piped up, shifting his bulk from side to side. "There aren't even any bodies around, except that one pile of humans we saw on the way in… Where are all the Collector bodies?" He moved over to stand closer to Shepard and she looked at him with affection. She was glad to have him here. "You keep saying something is wrong," he continued. "Should we go press buttons on that?" Without another word, she followed Garrus and touched the screen.

/ / / / / /

"Setting up a link with the Collector Vessel," EDI said. Streams of data poured in. Joker flicked through screens, skimming information but his screens went dark. Before he could even ask, they flickered on and a single image appeared plastered across all his monitors. The weird, flared head of a Collector stared at him with its many glowing eyes as if it could see right into him.

"Uh-oh. That can't be good."

"System breach," came EDI's flat alert.

Attempt after attempt at overrides failed. Aside from life support, the only systems still functioning were the heat sensors which flared with a sea of crimson and yellow. False reads? There's way too many of them! It was as if they were streaming from the walls themselves, just as he envisioned earlier… Fear for Shepard's life had him stabbing the comm button.

"Comman-"

Something on the unoccupied co-pilot's console sparked and shot across the cockpit, hitting the far wall with a resounding clang. In the same instant the cockpit was enveloped in darkness. Even the analogues around him were dark. He leaned forward in his seat, blind.

"... EDI?" he asked, blinking in confusion. The Normandy was completely dead. No lights of any kind, no displays, no nothing. Even the secondary generator light was off. He nudged the manual backup switch underneath his left foot, felt it depress against his boot. He held his breath. Nothing. Oh, this is not good. He tapped his Omnitool, but instead of a steady glow surrounding his forearm, nothing happened. A few seconds later a small orange light appeared on the console, followed by a chain of others. Sound returned to his earpiece.

"I have successfully diverted a massive overload to non-essential systems." For the first time, he felt grateful to hear that thing's voice. "No areas of the ship report extensive damage or loss of personnel."

"Shepard to Normandy, status report!" Her voice. Her voice! There was no time to sigh in relief.

"Power surge, Commander. We were knocked out for a second but our systems are coming back online," he explained as his eyes darted over the one tiny dialogue not filled with the image of a Collector. "Everything checks out."

Strange whirring noises filled his ear through the comm.

"What's happening!?" Roared Grunt. The krogan sounded confused, perhaps even panicked.

You and me both, man. Joker squinted in concentration, trying to figure out the sounds even as he worked to bring up the rest of the displays, still disabled by the mocking image of the Collector. His inability to hack into some kind of feed to get a better picture of the ground team made him feel even more cut off than usual. He ground his teeth in frustration. The whirring noise stopped, but it was followed by scuffling sounds, as if someone had been knocked off their feet.

"I am having difficulty maintaining control of the systems breach," EDI explained, the hologram appearing at its station to his left. "There is someone else in the system."

"We've got company!" Garrus shouted in alarm.

"Grunt, ten o'clock. Garrus, two. I've got noon." Shepard's voice came through strong and clear. Her armour clicked as she shifted around. Muted gunfire still made it through even with the dampener, and he could tell by the wet crunching of the impacts that whatever she was hitting had to be breathing on her it was so close. There was a dull pounding in his ears and for a moment he thought it was Shepard's heart beating before he realised it was the sound of his own. Eventually the din stopped. Silence reigned for several seconds and his eyes flicked to one of the screens. It turned on and off briefly before displaying readouts. He leaned closer. Weapons readouts.

"Normandy to shore party. Respond."

"Shore party," she said, breathing hard.

"Uh, yeah, Shepard I don't mean to rush you or anything but those weapons systems are coming online." Please, baby. Get out of there.

/ / / / / /

"Through there!" she barked and gestured towards a metal door that rolled up into the ceiling with a squeal.

"They just don't quit!" Exclaimed Garrus in disbelief as the sounds of buzzing filled their ears once again.

She slammed herself against a crumbling section of wall. Her throat was dry as she pulled back the release on her rifle, slapping in another thermal cartridge. With her target in sight, she leaned out, let loose a long breath. A bright light filled her scope and she winced, pulling away. The Collector in her crosshairs dropped to the ground and convulsed. She heard a menacing growl, the sound vibrating in her ears as if coming from within, but Shepard knew better.

"Not again… Grunt, take care of this one, I'll keep the others off your ass!" A shambling husk fell to the ground, a bullet lodged in what used to be its brain. Something large and ungainly unfolded from the wall. Pointed legs stabbed into the ground and a biotic field crackled to life as the thing - whatever it was - rose up into the air. Its white eyes snapped onto hers. It bore down on her so fast she barely had time to throw herself back into cover. The crack of Garrus' rifle rang out again and again as the thing's forelegs flailed in the air. Somewhere far below, engines shuddered to life, vibrating the floor beneath her feet. Time was running out, but the Collector was still in the way. Shepard set her jaw. She reached over behind her head and pulled up today's toy, reserved for problems like this.

"You're in our way," she snarled. Bringing the gun up to her hip as far as she could lift it, she braced herself and squeezed the trigger tight. She was never prepared for the Cain's recoil; it felt like trying to hold onto the leg of a kicking mule but somehow she managed to hold it steady enough. It spat thick arcs of electricity in a steady rhythm. A warm thrill shot up Shepard's spine as she watched the thing's biotic field shatter around it. Beads of energy disintegrated like a broken necklace. It writhed in agony, helpless against the Cain's punishment and finally it expired with a chilling, atonal scream. She didn't stop to watch it hit the ground and hauled herself down the hallway and almost as if on cue -

"Commander," she heard Joker say. "Those weapons are not gonna wait for you."

"I know," she replied, trying to sound calm. "I recognise this hallway, we're not far."

"Down there!" Grunt bellowed. "That's where we came in!" She could see the glint of the shuttle's metal doors and she threw herself towards them, ignoring the pain flaring up in her right leg. As she hurled herself inside and she skittered to a stop, back against the wall, she let herself lie flat.

/ / / / / /

Rattled. He was rattled. Joker let out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding. He stared at EDI's projection. As the adrenaline drained at last from his system, his usually steady hands shook. He took in a deep breath to reset himself and looked at the navigational array. There was a meeting going on, and he was supposed to be listening, but Joker wasn't so much listening as just hearing. He knew he should be paying attention, but he kept scanning the sensor readouts over and over again, half-expecting the Collector ship to rip back into view, particle beam primed to tear them apart.

He remembered her talking in the meeting, but not much of what she said. To him, she sounded tired, but never more beautiful; she was home, safe. He wasn't sure when the meeting finished, but comms were quiet and the adrenaline shakes long ago subsided as he swept through the displays. It was strange, but EDI seemed to know that he needed quiet, her periodic input restricted to just text, scrolling off to his left. He found himself glancing at her projector dish a few times. Maybe I've been being kind of a dick to EDI too. We wouldn't be alive right now if not for… her. As time whiled away and they hung aimlessly in space, he glanced up out the windows at the tendrils of a vast green nebula.

It hadn't quite landed yet; none of it had. Not that the vessel was the same one from before, not the Illusive Man's intentional setup, although he had suspected something like that… and not the fact that he'd lost it and had EDI take over. These were all facts without any emotional significance, because what were emotions? Joker was numb. Almost numb.

The truth was, a certain amount of adrenaline just wouldn't go away. As he stared out at the stars, he knew he needed to see Shepard. Waiting for tomorrow was an idiot's game, and he'd been playing it far too long.

/ / / / / /

"I was wondering when the Illusive Man was going to pull the rug out from under us. I just… didn't think it would be now," said Shepard. She looked up at Garrus as he leaned against his console. The turian looked off into the red glow of the Thanix Cannon's internals. Both were quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room the ringing hum of energy flowing through the Main Battery's many conduits.

"I'm glad to know you were only half-surprised. It's nice that you could have thought for even a minute that a turian patrol had the capability to knock that thing for six."

"Half-surprised is right. Did the Illusive Man really think I would miss his eyes, or…?"

"I don't follow."

"His eyes," she said. "They glow. At first, I thought they were just standard cybernetic replacements, but, I'm pretty sure I know where he got them," she said, crossing her arms. "Especially now."

"What are you going to do?" Garrus shook his head. "If there's one thing I know about you, it's that you have a plan."

She laughed. "Right now? I think my plan is to make a plan. I need to know what I'm doing before I go after this Reaper IFF."

Garrus put a finger to his chin in thought. "First he sends you to the Collector ship that killed you the first time, then he sends you to a derelict Reaper right after? It sounds like he's upping the ante."

"You might say I need a minute to think about it first."

Garrus straightened up and looked behind Shepard, toward the door. His pupils dilated and mandibles fluttered in what Shepard recognised as pleasant surprise. "Ah, Tali," he said.

"Oh, Shepard. Am I interrupting?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and touching her fingertips together.

Shepard smiled and shook her head, stepping to one side. "No, he's all yours, and in one piece."

Tali needed no second invitation. She stepped up and put her arms around the turian's neck in the kind of embrace that showed how much she'd been worried. She leaned her helmet against him and pressed herself as close to him as her suit would allow. For his part, Garrus cleared his throat sheepishly before his long arms enclosed Tali's back in return.

"Ah, sorry," he said, his eyes meeting Shepard's briefly.

She smiled. "Nothing to be sorry for. I'll see you two later."

Seeing her squadmates hold each other in such a way brought a kind of heaviness to within her chest as Shepard stepped into the elevator. She thought back to the interrupted conversation with Joker. It couldn't have been more than half a day, but it felt like a week had passed since he'd been standing in her quarters, staring at the door. I wonder what he meant to say? She tapped on her Omnitool. No messages. Should I send him one? Shepard stared into the message composition dialogue, her fingers poised over the keyboard. As she leaned against the back of the wall and considered her options, the elevator lurched upward, bringing her back into the present. She hit the button for Deck 1 and looked back down.

To: Moreau, J

Subj: some things are better actually said

Body: If you want to finish your point, you can find me in my quarters. It's not an order, just an invitation.

Some seconds later the doors opened on Deck 2.

"Mm, hello," she said, too distracted by sender's regret to look up. The glow of a second Omnitool disappeared off to the side as the doors closed.

"Going up?" asked a reedy, familiar voice that made her look up in surprise. Joker looked at her with a tired smile, his eyes full of warmth. "Hey," he said. Her throat grew tight. To her, he could never have looked more handsome and perfect than he did right then, just standing in the corner of the elevator with his finger on Deck 1. At the sight of him she was hit by a wave of relief and pride so strong, such emotion should have had its own name. Maybe it did.

"Hey," she replied. "Thanks for getting us out of that."

"Heh. Yeah, well, you know, letting us all die kinda got in the way of my plans."

"I can relate," she said with a soft chuckle. She tilted her head. "And what are your plans?"

"Well, I gotta track down the Commander, so I guess that's done. And then, I gotta apologise for being an insecure asshole and I think that's probably gonna take some time, but uh, after that I'm free?"