Author's Note: Okay, we're bracing for inclement weather where I am, and rather than risk missing tomorrow's update because of power grid failures (normal where I am, rest assured I'm quite prepared) I'm posting a double update today. If power stays reliable, I'll update again tomorrow. I know this is a really tense part of the story.
-J-
The beam, it transpired, originated on the Citadel and simply had its terminus on Earth. It also turned out to be one of the roughest trips Shepard had ever experienced: she stepped into the beam and it caught her, immediately yanked her upward, her head snapping back as she rose fast, fast, fast, only to come slamming down on something softer than the floor, something that gave under the impact of her armored body. Something that let out a whimper, and then silence.
Shepard squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then forced herself to roll to one side. She rolled right off the pile of bodies upon which she'd landed as the most recent one, but the dizziness that lingered kept her from rolling straight to her feet the way she was trained to do. She staggered, looking around her.
Emergency reds glowered everywhere, giving the scene a bloody cast. Many bodies—none of them moving, and she winced to think her impact might have killed a survivor—lay in a large pile, spread out, those on the outer most edge being dragged off by the Keepers. For a moment she was afraid, raised her pistol in preparation to shoot anything that came near her.
But the Keepers ignored her, just as they always ignored everyone.
Slowly, Shepard lowered her pistol. "Horatio?" she asked into her radio.
Nothing.
"EDI?"
Still nothing.
Shepard sighed. She was alone…but she was here. She took a deep, shaky breath, aware of the smells of death, and began to stagger forward, realizing as she went that she didn't know where she was. This wasn't the Presidium; in fact, it didn't look much like the Citadel at all. Maybe it was some foundry type level, usually kept sealed off from visitors.
Well, it was definitely a foundry now, she thought grimly. It unnerved her that there were no Reapers present, none of their ground forces anyway. But why should there be? No one was supposed to make it this far. The arrogant bastards.
She felt like she'd walked for kilometers when her radio coughed.
"Hello? Anyone there?"
The voice was Anderson's, and Shepard actually sat down in relief. "Shepard here, Anderson."
"Shepard!"
"How…did you get here…?" The last she remembered was not knowing where Anderson was…but knowing he'd disappeared before they made it a third of the way down the run-up.
"Followed someone up. Must've been you. I don't think we came out in the same place, though. I can't hear you except on the radio."
"I don't—I don't know where we are," Shepard said, aware of how stupid that sounded. She was an N7, she was supposed to know how to find out where she was…but nothing looked familiar…maybe it was that knock to the head making her so slow…
"Shepard, you okay?" Anderson demanded, his tone sharpening.
"I…a little rattled," Shepard admitted. "Took a glancing blow from Harbinger."
"Shit. How bad are you?"
"…not fabulous," she answered. "How are you?"
"Little knocked around, but I'm alright," he answered firmly. "What's your surrounding look like?"
"Too many dead," Shepard breathed, closing her eyes. Suddenly, she was too aware of the bodies, too aware of the stunk. She heaved, the paroxysms forcing her to her knees.
She thought she might have blacked out, because she came to with Anderson's concerned admiral voice in her ears. "Shepard. Report! Right now!"
"S-sorry…" she managed, the taste of acid in her mouth, burning her throat. "I'm okay…just a little slow…you wanted…?" It was so hard to remember, but clearly she hadn't been out for very long.
"Surroundings, Shepard."
"Uh…" she looked around, found herself lying by the pool of vomit. If she had to guess, she'd expelled the contents of her stomach, then simply toppled sideways as the darkness rolled in. At least she hadn't been lying in it. "I'm in a-a kind of foundry. It's a bit dark…lots of bodies, a few Keepers." She rolled to her knees, then to her feet. "I'm standing again."
"Good girl. Keep on your feet."
"I think there's only one way to go. I don't see any turns," she continued, aware of how numb her mouth felt. "I should…probably keep moving, Anderson. I may not…not be able…to get started again if I stop."
"Carry on," Anderson said after a moment.
"Where are you?" Shepard asked.
"Similar place…looks a bit like your description of the Collector base."
"Makes sense."
"…you think they're making another Reaper in here?"
"Why not? It'd explain the bodies. I don't—I smell death but not the rot. Not a lot, anyway."
Anderson sighed heavily, then swore profusely until Shepard chuckled. The sound had a squeaky quality. "Sorry. I've just never heard you cut loose before. Nice. Oh, any sign of Horatio?"
"The geth? No. I think it must be out of commission. Damn shame; I was looking forward to a friendly face on this station—present company notwithstanding."
"Well, at least we can swing by your place when this is over. Get you a decent drink. I kept the good stuff safe for you."
"Much appreciated. You sound a little woozy, you still okay?"
"Yeah. I'm…lemme hit myself with a stim, see if it doesn't help. Should be enough time between it and my last painkiller." Shepard followed through with this plan, vaguely aware that she should have done it sooner. Complications between the stims and painkillers carried by soldiers tended not to happen. As the stimulant flooded her system, she felt her world clarify a little, some of the cloudiness in her head easing. "Okay. I'm…already feeling better."
"Good—shit! One of the walls just shifted on me," Anderson announced, unnerved. "This place is changing."
All Shepard could think was that this didn't surprise her. They weren't following the only path; they were being herded. "Be careful, Anderson. If Horatio is gone, then the Illusive Man is here somewhere."
"I've got a chasm, and more hallways like the one I'm in."
"I've got a door."