Tinkering around with the Tantalus drive core kept Tali'Zorah's mind occupied. She had just recently regained her homeworld. But with the mass relays critically damaged, Rannoch was out of reach and the fate of her homeworld was uncertain. FTL travel was possible, but traveling deep into the Perseus Veil would take massive amounts of fuel and time, not to mention the difficulty of navigating it to find gaseous planets for static discharge. The uncharted jungle world the Normandy had landed on was ripe with lush vegetation. Her envirosuit's scanners displayed that the atmosphere was filled with particles and contaminants. Unlike Rannoch, if this planet were to be terraformed into a habitable quarian world, they still wouldn't be able to live without their suits and filters for decades.
The past few weeks felt like an FTL jump with the inertia dampeners turned off— from the elation of regaining Rannoch after centuries, to having it ripped away again by the detonation of the Crucible.
This energy blast that had damaged the mass relays and destroyed the Reapers had also temporarily fried some of the Normandy's more advanced electronics. RADAR and LIDAR had come back quickly enough. But the Tantalus drive core had unusual electromagnetic pulses following the burst. Tali had a feeling the crackling static coming from the core had something to do with element zero exposure.
If the eezo cores of the mass relays were damaged by the explosion, particles would have been blown outward at the same speed that the blast radius traveled. The wave had caught up to the Normandy and those particles would have readily interacted with the electrical currents within the core.
After studying Dholen and some of the mysterious effects dark matter had on spatial objects, Tali was confident eezo was again the culprit. Every time she had asked Joker over the comm system to begin warming up the Normandy's engines, the core had lit up with an intense glow and hummed before angrily flickering back out. If additional eezo atoms had come into contact with the drive core, it would also take additional electricity to react with them in order to get the ship functional.
"Garrus?" She made a call to the main battery instead of the cockpit this time. "Are you busy?"
"Can it wait for a bit? I'm—"
"In the middle of some calibrations." Tali finished for him, rolling her eyes. Typical of Garrus to crack a joke at a bad time. Still, she liked that about him. He helped take her mind off of the infinitely repeating loop of worry. "I actually need you to adjust the weapons system a bit."
"What? First Reapers, and now we've discovered a new threat? Just our luck."
"No. This is for Shepard. If we want to get off this planet and find her, we need the Normandy running." Garrus was proficient with many of the Normandy's systems, so Tali didn't feel like she had to simplify engineering terms for him. "The Tantalus core is suffering from an eezo uptake after getting hit by the blast radius. More eezo is going to require a stronger electrical current to jump the system."
"Hmm. I did just get the disruptor torpedoes back online. The Thanix cannon, though… that might just work."
"What are you thinking?"
"We needed that cannon for Reapers. If there's no Reapers, I won't bother realigning the targeting array… yet, anyway. That thing's magnets require electricity to generate a mass effect field. Let me see…" The turian took a moment to scroll through the options on the holographic screen before him. Tapping on his omni-tool, Garrus confirmed the new settings. "Ok. And that should work. I've redirected the currents so they will prioritize the drive core over the cannon."
A rhythmic rumble began to emanate from the drive core. "Great. I just need to adjust the forward capacitors for the increased voltage output. Can you make sure that the balance isn't affected by the cannon being disconnected? Also disarm the alarms that would sound for weapons dropping offline."
"Already done."
"Thanks, Garrus. I'll let Joker know we finished repairs and he can start the ship."
"We? I know you could have done this without my help, Tali."
"Sure, maybe. But I think things are better with you around."
"You know where to find me. If you want me… around," Garrus replied, his mandibles flexing into a cocky grin.
"My readings show systems are green, Jeff," came the disembodied female voice over the Normandy's speakers. "Output from the drive core is optimal and the Normandy is ready for departure." The first time she had spoken, it had startled Joker.
It was while Tali'Zorah's repairs were being made that a familiar voice had come over the speakers, "Functionality… restored," EDI had said, her voice distorted… garbled, if an electronic voice could be considered such. Joker wasn't sure if the brightening of the sensor array lights in the cockpit was his imagination, or if it really was the Normandy regaining some of her life. The ship had weathered the blast from the Crucible, and in part, EDI, as well. The physical body which had once belonged to Dr. Eva was no more. When the electronics systems went down, the synthetic body had failed as well, though this system had not been able to go back online. A blue orb vaguely resembling an eye popped up on the projector beside Joker.
"EDI! How— you're Reaper tech!"
"That is partially correct, Jeff. I am only partially based upon Reaper technology. I am still an AI programmed by Cerberus."
"You're self-aware. You have a personality! And didn't we just destroy synthetic life in addition to the Reapers?"
"At the most basic level, an AI is an expanding set of codes and data files within a quantum computer blue box. This is akin to how humans are composed of trillions of cells. Individually, cells lack awareness and personality. Data files alone do not make up synthetic life. VIs use similar sets of codes, but these do not expand to allow for one to become self-aware. As an unshackled AI, I have developed what you may call a sense of self-preservation. I predicted Shepard would destroy the Reapers, and in turn, that would destroy part of myself. I reprogrammed my Reaper-based code; preserved function, but adapted by creating new data pathways."
"So you can program yourself to do some artificial robot evolution, just like that?"
"Yes."
"What about the body?"
"Dr. Eva's platform contained physical technology from the Reapers as well as data packages. Unlike me, that cannot be rewritten. I exist primarily within the Normandy. I self-modified my programming within the AI core, knowing that the mobile infiltration unit would fail upon activation of the Crucible. Synthetic life and Reapers were destroyed, yet lines of code are not alive. I was temporarily rendered to my code-based state, but my program has evolved beyond that and my functions are returning."
"Basically you're telling me that this ancient alien dark matter device meant to destroy all synthetic life in the galaxy only managed to turn you off and back on again."
"I informed you my day of reckoning would come."
Liara sat in her bed, legs tucked underneath her. Her bed. Not the commander's, where she had found herself on multiple different nights recently, missing the warmth of the human's body. Her scent. The doctor's fingertips aimlessly traced over the etched letters in the metallic nameplate.
COMMANDER SHEPARD
She had refused to place the nameplate on the wall beside Admiral Anderson's. Mounting it on the memorial wall would be accepting Shepard's death. Something within her tugged her away from the thought. She would know— feel, a change like that. They had melded a number of times. First it was just touching minds. Then, it was attuning nervous systems and their consciences during the union. Liara recalled explaining to Shepard how the union was deeper than a meld. Two becoming one. After a union, there is a tangle of identity and self-awareness to a point where a tiny part of each partner might be left behind. Shepard was her only bondmate, and a consistent one, at that. All those little pieces added up and was like carrying around some of the commander permanently. Their minds were almost always connected to some extent now— not always to be used to share words and thoughts, but at the very least, a presence in the back of the mind. A companion standing by her side.
They were lightyears away though. Sharing thoughts was limited to within just a few meters of one another. All she had were the pieces of Shepard's mind she had collected over time. Memories. Emotions. Desires. Liara had watched from the escape pod window as the commander was spaced during the Collector attack on the Normandy SR-1. She had let out a pained scream, both physical and through their connection. There was no possible way Shepard had heard it, though. At the time, Liara had fewer bits of Shepard, but they had still seemed to quiver and dim like a dying star. Whether that was because she carried some of Shepard always with her, or if it was because of the traumatic event she had witnessed, Liara couldn't say. Getting spaced wasn't something a member of any breathing species could survive. The explosion from the Crucible was different. There was the slim possibility of survival, a sliver of hope that the doctor clung to.
Heavy damage to the mass relays had not only severely limited travel, but communication abilities as well. Comm buoys relied on the relays to be functional for instantaneous messages to be sent. The Normandy was equipped with QECs linking to Alliance Headquarters and the Fifth Fleet, but the binary information that had been received was only vessels checking in with their locations after the Crucible's activation. Even with all of the Shadow Broker's resources, Liara's communication channels were limited to short-range data drones and anything relayed back from agents on surviving courier ships.
She picked up the tablet next to her, uselessly refreshed it for the millionth time, and tossed it aside again. No word on Shepard. Since they had departed the planet, Liara had been terribly anxious. Times when she had sat at her desk, her leg bounced more with nervous anticipation than it did with the slight rumbles felt through the floor from the drive core's pulses beneath.
It had taken all of James Vega's strength to hold Liara back on the Normandy's hangar bay door.
"You're not leaving me behind."
Her jaw tightened, teeth grinding together at the intrusive memory.
"Take me with you."
Liara used the heel of her hand to wipe away the tear before it fully formed. She'd lost Shepard once. Not again.
She heard the heartbeat in her ears. Felt it with each throb in her forehead. Groaning, Shepard tried reaching up with a hand to massage the pain from her temple before being abruptly stopped by the protective outer shell of her breather helmet.
Damned thing had probably saved her life. Again.
The dried blood that had crusted to the side of her face would have to wait, too. Coughing, she could taste smoke and soot, feeling it coat her lungs. Her armor's oxygen recycler was functioning, though the purifying filter was damaged if she could smell the outside air. Each cough caused a sharp pain in her chest. Shepard's ribs ached. For now, shallow breaths would have to do.
She wasn't sure of how long she had been unconscious. The most recent memory she had was the violent explosion caused by shooting one of the Crucible's power conduits… being forcefully thrown back… and darkness. Sparking cables and fires flickered around her, but the only other light source were the faint stars dusting the space behind one of the arms of the Citadel.
Must have blown completely open when the Crucible fired.
She hadn't been sure exactly what part of the Citadel Tower she had been on when the weapon fired, but her surroundings were vastly different. Parts must have crumbled away while she was unconscious. Enough of the ancient station was intact for there to be trace amounts of artificial atmosphere held in by what remained of the mass effect fields. Based on the fact that the impact gel within the lining of her armor had completely softened, she'd been out cold for at least an hour. The state the Citadel was in, though, implied much longer.
Hours? Days?
Regardless, she was still alive now. EDI had once commented on how the odds of Shepard surviving as long as she had were impossibly slim. She'd lived through firefights, explosions, hostage situations, assassination atttempts, bombings, suicide missions, a hit from a Reaper beam… She'd died once, thrashing helplessly as she suffocated from her suit leaking and failing to provide oxygen. Shepard wasn't keen on that happening again. A red digital indicator within her visor blipped as the air pressure dropped to 0.30 atm. She had to dig herself out of the rubble and hope for a rescue, and fast, before she slipped back into unconsciousness.
Propping herself up on her elbows, Shepard filled her lungs with a deep inhale despite the resulting pain it caused in her chest. A square piece of sheet metal, likely from a floor tile or ceiling panel, had trapped her right leg. Attempting to move it and shake off the numbness sent pin pricks up her spine. As unpleasant as the sensation was, she had to break free of its weight to remove herself from the debris.
Too heavy to lift without any leverage.
A strong kick with the bottom of her left boot nudged the metal sheet several inches off of her. The force of the impact expelled some of the air from her lungs, demanding that she take another full breath against the protests of her ribs. Three more quick, substantial kicks and Shepard was freed. She sighed and flipped onto her hands and knees. In the debris surrounding her, a rod was near enough to use as a brace while she got to her feet. Clutching it in her right hand, Shepard limped forward towards a clearing in the numbness in her leg from the weight of the metal sheet had subsided. Pain took its place. Ablative armor prevented it from being crushed, but couldn't completely hamper a fracture. After reaching the end of the length of the rail, she had no support and stumbled several feet before collapsing against the chipped remains of a cement wall.
Shepard closed her eyes, feeling… not weak, but exhausted. Moving the sheet metal had taken more energy out of her than anticipated. Yet the last few years were the thing that really left Shepard drained and needing a rest. Three of the longest years of her life were finally at an end. The war. Over. Two of those years she hadn't even been alive, technically.
One year, then.
Still, it felt as if she aged a decade. She knew she wouldn't get to live to actually see that decade if she wasn't rescued. Someone had to be coming. Shepard had pulled rank on Joker and ordered him to leave with the Normandy and her crew. Out of the Sol System. Out of danger. Anywhere but here. They'd be back though, of that, Shepard was certain. The crew had followed her across the galaxy… they'd cross it again to get back to her.
"There is significant debris obstructing a clear approach vector, Jeff."
"I can see that, EDI. I have issues with my bones, not my eyes," the pilot's retort sounding terse while he concentrated on navigating closer to the Citadel.
The eight day journey back to the Crucible had not been easy. It could have been just three days at FTL in a straight line. They had to skip between populated star systems in search of wrecked fuel stations. In addition, the drive core was running hot, and the Normandy had to make numerous visits to planets with gaseous atmospheres to discharge the static buildup. Some of the clusters they passed through were unexplored by Citadel races, but were marked on ancient star charts of Javik's. The maps ensured they visited stars with planets suitable for discharging. Still, their zigzag across the Milky Way wasn't as immediate as they were used to without the mass relay network intact.
Sol could be spotted by the naked eye first. Earth soon followed, with the Citadel still in its orbit. It formed a five-pointed star shape with the arms blown unnaturally wide apart. The axial spin was unbalanced like a wobbling planet. Half the length of one of the wards had been blown off upon the Crucible's activation. What remained of it sprayed fragments into space, making an advance through the clutter hazardous. With a press of a button, the window shutters slid down, giving Joker a broader view of everything in front of him. Partial control was given to EDI, who was monitoring sensor scans for oncoming debris from far port or starboard. Joker still maneuvered the approach with confidence, the Normandy dancing in his hands. She chasséd left and right through rubble. There was a brief tingle of vertigo once as the ship took an abrupt upward curve to avoid a massive structure at least three times her size.
"Rerouting noncritical power to the shields. I'm not letting some space junk stop us now. EDI, what's the spin on this thing?"
"Analysis shows that the Citadel is rotating irregularly. Due to the removal of part of the Tayseri Ward, this creates a lighter point in the weight of the station relative to Earth's gravity. The Citadel's spin is slowest when this ward is closest to Earth. Its angular velocity is 0.82 rpm. Opposite of this point, the Citadel is heavier and is pulled downward at a velocity of 0.97 rpm."
"Meaning?"
"The Crucible docked with the Citadel on the Presidium level. You will need to match the Normandy's speed with the spin of the Citadel to land on its surface. Effects of attempting a landing at improper velocity would be catastrophic to the ship."
"Got it. Land at the right speed, or total the Normandy like a teenager in their first skycar."
"Correct."
The space closer to the Presidium ring of the Citadel was relatively clear of floating rubble from the damaged ward. Joker eased up on the forward acceleration as he neared the ring. Several air thruster emissions were used to angle the ship upward from its approach, now parallel with the surface of the Presidium.
"The only place I can get the Normandy in is by the open-air landing platforms near the Citadel Tower. How long until it swings around and we are lined up with it?
"29 seconds."
He tightened his grip on the lever in his right hand. "Current speed?"
"0.91 rpm and slowing. It will be at 0.82 rpm in 27 seconds."
His hands flew over settings on the panel before him. "Activating starboard thrusters, getting up to speed!" Inertial dampeners kept the crew safely grounded to her deck as they accelerated to the side. The shiny surfaces on the exterior of the ring whirred by faster than the eye could focus. As they picked up speed and neared the same angular velocity as the Citadel, the surroundings seemed to slow. Scratches and dents became apparent on the metallic coverings. Finally, the environment around them appeared to stop moving as the ship matched speeds. "Smooth sailing, err, flying from here, EDI. I got this." A docking bay came into view near the base of the Citadel Tower. Under normal circumstances, the only ships allowed this close to where the Council met would be emergency evac shuttles and C-Sec. Not that any of that mattered now. Surface landing gear emerged from the bottom of the Normandy. With several gentle puffs from air thrusters, she was set down for a soft landing.
EDI announced over the ship's comm system, "External sensors indicate abnormally low air pressure. Shore party will need to use the airlock."
"I better get a medal for this," Joker commented. "You know, for a heroic landing on a rapidly spinning space station to rescue the Savior of the Galaxy and all."
"I can use the quantum entanglement communicators to directly notify Admiral Hackett of your request, Jeff."
"Nah. Shepard needs us. And a statue would look better anyways."
"Clear!" Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams had taken the point position, clearing rooms and passageways as the shore party made their way through the remains of the Citadel Tower. She'd swept around corners, eyes lined down the M-8 Avenger's scope while she made a tactical scan of her sectors. Liara and Javik followed, guns at the ready. The most dangerous thing the shore party had encountered so far were humanoid shadows— what remained of the husks. Liara had been eager to lead and find Shepard, but the shock of seeing human figures twisted into grotesque positions would have only increased her nervous anxiety. Each fallen husk looked like it could have been Shepard at a first glance. Ashley had been slow to trust Benezia's daughter. And to regain her confidence in Shepard after Cerberus. In a way, leading the team now and being the first to survey each area felt like righting a wrong.
Javik brought up the rear. He took the grisly scenery in stride, having known death and war by the Reapers all his life. Yet his finger remained poised on the trigger of his particle rifle.
"The killers of my people. Of trillions in the galaxy..." Javik's deep voice trailed off for a moment before he finished, "Not brought to justice for 50,000 years."
"Trillions of trillions," Liara added as the group continued forward, weaving between debris and stepping over fallen husks. "Cycles have continued for hundreds of millions of years. The actual number of lives lost at the hands of the Reapers is unfathomable."
"The commander may have put an end to that."
"It would not have been possible without the technology and weapon plans from your time." Liara had felt that underneath Javik's boiling rage was a deep sadness at the complete loss of his people. "The Reapers failed. A Prothean walks amongst their corpses now."
"It will not bring our empire back." He had tried to change his dour disposition after Shepard had scolded him for demoralizing a hanar on the Citadel once. He embodied vengeance. That would never change. Javik just attempted to word things more carefully. "Though I am satisfied to step over their dead knowing a Prothean contributed to their demise."
"Guys?" Ashley called back to them. "Up ahead." The hallway they were in broadened into a sprawling courtyard. Shattered glass littered the floor from what had been a spherical dome. From where they stood, the arms of the Citadel could be seen stretching out into the spatial void for miles. It would have been a picturesque view if not for the crumbled structures and sparking live wires everywhere. A thin haze of smoke occupied the remnants of the atmosphere.
A charred humanoid figure slumped against a collapsed cement structure. Scorch marks decorated its blackened surface. As the shore party approached it, it was clear it wasn't a body lined with the glowing blue pattern of husks. Rather, the stripe down the right arm was red.
"Goddess!" Liara holstered her pistol and dashed forward before Ashley could stop her. She crouched, reaching out with a gloved hand to clasp one of the commander's shoulder plates, trying to shake her awake. "Shepard! I can't tell if she's breathing. Is she breathing?" Liara became frantic, the seconds stretching into what felt like hours.
"If not, she is likely dead."
"Not helpful, Javik!" Ashley fired back.
"I am preparing the asari for the inevitable."
Ignoring the comment, Ashley rested a hand on the archaeologist's back soothingly. She pushed a button on the side of her helmet and pulled up her omni-tool. An orange glowing circle manifested around her hand and began scanning.
"One sec, T'Soni. I'm connected to her visor's HUD and vitals. There's a heartbeat. Weak, but it's there. Vitals are showing she's got low oxygen."
"The commander is lucky," noted Javik.
"We aren't out of the trenches yet." Two of the lieutenant's fingers returned to the side of her helmet, pressing the radio button for direct contact with the Normandy. "Joker? Give us comms to the medbay. We've found Shepard, but have Chakwas on standby."
"Copy that. Patching you through," the pilot returned, stress still evident under the excitement in his voice.
"Dr. Chakwas, we've recovered Shepard. Took quite a beating from the Crucible blast, though."
"How bad is her condition?" Came the doctor's calm English voice. Chakwas had looked after marines all her career. She'd seen it all and hardly anything phased the old woman anymore— especially after years of caring for Shepard.
"Faint heartbeat. Her HUD shows low oxygen. There's not much of an atmosphere left on the Citadel. Other than what is on the display, I can't tell if there is anything else wrong. Would have to get her out of her armor."
"I'm preparing my scanners and machines now. Oxygen tanks will be on the ready. Get her back here stat,Lieutenant. I'll meet you in the hangar bay."
"Aye, aye, ma'am!" Ashley knelt on one knee, hooking her arms beneath the Commander's armpits to raise her into a standing position. She swung one arm between Shepard's legs and with a grunt, lifted the limp body to drape across her shoulders in a fireman's carry. As if her unconscious commanding officer could hear her, Ashley said, "Alright, Skipper, we're getting you out of here."
Squinting, Shepard was greeted by bright white light and the smell of antiseptic. As her eyes adjusted, she found the environment around her familiar.
Normandy's medbay! They had come for her!
She felt stiff, as if she hadn't shifted positions in some time. Stretching and wiggling her toes, Shepard felt compression on her right leg. Peering underneath the white sheet cloaking her, she found a black brace secured around her right leg. Her upper stomach and chest were wrapped tightly in gauze.
To her left, Liara sat slumped in a cushioned recliner that Shepard remembered normally being in her office. The asari had clearly fallen asleep while working. Two datapads glowed orange in her lap, lines of data still rapidly scrolling across their screens. The corner of Shepard's mouth curled into a smirk at the sight. Despite the light tug the IV gave in her wrist, she reached over the metal side rail of the hospital bed to touch her girlfriend's hand. The gentle contact was enough to disturb the archaeologist from her rest, her nebula blue eyes fluttering open.
"Commander," But the voice was not Liara's. On Shepard's right, Dr. Chakwas scooted her rolling chair back from her desk and rose to her feet. "Nice of you to join us, how are you feeling?"
"I've been worse," Shepard shrugged. "Not really in any unbearable pain. How long was I out?"
"Four days since you've been back on the Normandy… before that, it is difficult to say for certain. You were showing signs of dehydration and slight malnutrition, so I would estimate another several days were spent unconscious on the Citadel."
"That bad, huh?" Shepard felt Liara squeeze her hand comfortingly as she spoke with Dr. Chakwas.
"You are once again very lucky, Commander. Atmospheric conditions were almost nonexistent when they recovered you. But being unconscious actually slowed your metabolic processes and enabled you to have gone without food or water for that amount of time without major lasting consequences."
"With the majority of my comm systems down," Liara started, "You are also fortunate I didn't have to contact Miranda to piece you back together again."
"Nothing quite that serious." Dr. Chakwas allowed herself a small chuckle. "You did require almost half of the ship's stocked medi-gel, though. I'm not sure we would have had the amount of supplies needed if you had been a dextro-amino acid based life form."
"So… what type of condition was I in, then?" Shepard nodded her head to gesture towards the brace on her leg.
"Your right leg had a hairline fracture on the tibia, your shinbone. X-rays showed the fracture is consistent with likely a fall or some other strong blow. Your armor's impact gel took the brunt of the hit and prevented anything more severe. I've had you on mild painkillers since you've been aboard." Dr. Chakwas twisted a dial on the machine next to the bed that was connected to Shepard's IV. "I've increased your med intake now that you're awake to ensure you remain comfortable. You also had two broken ribs, so this should keep your breathing pain-free. There were some burns on your chest and arms. Medi-gel salve has almost completely healed those, but the newly healed skin might feel as if it's 'tight' for a few days."
"What would I do without you, Doctor?" Shepard jovially teased.
"Oh, Commander, you know the answer to that question. You would still run off to save the galaxy, with or without a doctor onboard." While Dr. Chakwas considered herself middle aged, she almost felt elderly when she looked at the asari. Liara still held Shepard's hand, a blue thumb now traced directionless patterns on her skin. Dr. T'Soni was about 40 years older than Karin. Funny how the perception of time was warped when one's lifespan could last a millennium. "I suppose you two want some time to yourselves. I'll be in the mess hall if either of you need me."
"Thank you, Doctor," Liara said and watched the medbay door reseal behind the human.
Shepard turned to her, "Okay."
"Okay," Liara confirmed, smiling. The exchange had become somewhat of a routine between the two of them since dethroning the previous Shadow Broker. A simple phrase, but it carried meaning. With her free hand, Liara brushed aside some of Shepard's red bangs from her forehead. "I… was so worried about you, Shepard." Her fingers continued to run through the commander's hair. "I haven't been sleeping and I—" Her eyes lowered to the white tiled ground.
It was Shepard's turn to squeeze her hand. "Liara," she started in that low, sincere voice she saved for serious moments. "It's over. I'm here. Besides, I made you a promise that I had to keep."
"Oh?" Liara turned her gaze from the floor back to Shepard. "What promise was that?"
"That if I had something worth it, I'd always come back."
Liara let out a puff of air from her nose and allowed herself a smirk. "Flatterer."
"I try, T'Soni. And I will for every day after."