A/N: So… yet another long wait, which rather ruins what I said last chapter about there hopefully being less of a delay this time. I can say with complete honesty that this, for whatever reason, is the hardest chapter I've ever written. Not just in regards to Spectre, but also in regards to any story, ever. Normally, while chapters do change a lot when I read through and edit them, I don't end up deleting whole sections. But with this one, that's exactly what happened, with more than half of my first draft going the way of the dodo as I tried to get everything to a point where I was happy with it. Finally got there in the end, though, thankfully.

Anyway, that's enough from me. As always, I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 35: Patience

All sound seemed to drain out of the world. Doctor Keita was saying something else now, but whatever his words were, they were lost on Rassen. The only thing the Jedi Knight could concentrate on was the doctor's previous sentence, which seemed to repeat itself over and over again in his mind, taunting him. Even though he knew what he had just heard was the truth, something inside him rebelled at the news, as though by refusing to accept it he could prevent it from actually being reality.

If only life were so easy, Rassen.

Zaressh's voice caused him to flinch, but it still wasn't enough to bring Rassen completely out of the trance-like state in which he currently found himself.

"…and while her vitals haven't declined in any way over the past week, we still don't know when she will wake. Or… or if she will. I hesitate to tell you this at the current moment, but it's still too soon to tell either… Mr Voratt?"

Rassen blinked slowly, still feeling oddly calm despite regaining his senses somewhat. Even though his eyes refused to fully focus, he could tell the doctor was looking at him in concern but not alarm, clearly having expected his words to produce an effect similar to the one they had. Staring back at the older man for a moment, Rassen then found himself turning almost absentmindedly to face Kasumi. The thief wore a look of horror beneath her hood, which caused him to frown at her, his mind moving at only a fraction of its usual speed.

Presumably this was the first she had learned of Shaela's blindness as well. Idly, Rassen found himself wondering if his own expression matched hers. He knew it should, that the confirmation should have crushed him utterly. Yet somehow he wasn't sure just what his face was displaying. Was he wearing a look of despair, rage, or denial? Or was he currently unreadable, his face a blank mask that reflected the strange calm he somehow felt in spite of the situation?

His mind continued to ponder the possibilities as he stood there, returning Kasumi's gaze unblinkingly. As he watched, the thief's eyes slowly began to water, their owner finally glancing away after several seconds to look at the decontamination unit that stood next to the two of them.

And finally Rassen snapped back fully to reality.

Dull laughter suddenly filled the room, causing both Doctor Keita and Kasumi to flinch, the two of them backing away, their eyes wide. Somehow, it still took several seconds for Rassen to realise what the source was, but that only caused his laughter to increase in volume as he turned to stare down at Shaela's outline within the decontamination unit. So that was it, then. The final confirmation of what he had realised on the Bo'slaak as he had fought to save her, now proven beyond any doubt. Despite everything the two of them had been through together, despite his best efforts, he really had failed her, completely and utterly, because he hadn't been strong enough.

As the seconds passed, Rassen found his laughter growing louder still, tears of mirth forming in his eyes before rolling down his cheeks. Raising his forearm to his face, the Jedi Knight brushed them away. Again it occurred to him that he should have found the situation soul-destroying. Yet all he could do was laugh and laugh.

"Rassen."

He looked up, still laughing, to find that Kasumi had moved to stand next to him. As he watched, the thief swallowed nervously, but her gaze didn't waver as she reached out to place a hand on his forearm. "You have to calm down," she said gently. "You—"

"Calm down?" Rassen stopped laughing, his amusement replaced by fury in an instant. Something deep down told him he should have been alarmed at just how sudden his change of mood was, but he paid it no mind. "Perhaps you do not understand the current situation," he continued, pulling his arm away before moving a step closer to Kasumi, causing her to instinctively take a step back in response. "Shaela is hurt. Crippled. She might not even live. And you are telling me to calm down?"

She mocks you. She stands here unharmed while your little alien lover lies comatose.

He moved another step closer, Kasumi shrinking back several paces this time as he advanced on her, the thief raising both of her hands in a futile attempt to placate him. "Rassen, please," she replied desperately, her voice breaking on the second word. "You might think your body can handle all of this, but it can't. You need—"

"I need? Tell me, Kasumi," he spat her name like it was an insult, something in the pit of his stomach delighting as he saw her eyes widen at the venom in his tone. "Tell me just why I should care about what you think I need?"

For a Jedi, the Force is all about balance, is it not? Why should she stand here unharmed and lecture you? What gives her the right?

"Mr Voratt, that is enough!"

Rassen blinked in surprise, a small portion of his rage evaporating. He had been so focused on Kasumi that he had nearly forgotten the two of them were not alone. Turning to face Doctor Keita, he opened his mouth to speak, only for the white-clad man to beat him to the punch.

"I cannot imagine how difficult this is for you," the older man said quickly, "but Miss Goto is correct. You must calm yourself immediately, for your own sake."

"Listen to him, big guy," Kasumi interjected, drawing his attention back to her. Meeting his gaze as unflinchingly as she had a few moments earlier, the thief returned her hand to his forearm, squeezing it once before continuing. "We both know Shaela's a fighter, Rassen," she said gently but firmly. "She will make it."

Kasumi then removed her hand from his arm, only to point at his chest, the tip of her finger aiming directly at his heart. "When you were unconscious on Venture, I said something similar about you to her." Rassen felt his eyes widen at that, but before he could reply, the thief pressed on, her voice hardening. "And when she wakes up," she stated firmly, "she's going to need you. And you can't be there for her if you're dead."

"I…" His anger had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, confusion and guilt now residing where it had once been. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, Rassen tried again. "Kasumi, I…"

Black spots suddenly exploded across his vision. Staggering as though he had just been physically struck, Rassen collided with the nearest wall shoulder first, a shrill ringing noise filling his ears as his chest once again erupted with grinding agony. He barely heard Kasumi's cry of alarm as he slid awkwardly down the wall to the ground, or Doctor Keita's panicked voice as he spoke into his omni-tool, calling for other members of the hospital staff to come as fast as they could.

Through the expanding haze of darkness that threatened to engulf him as he struggled to remain conscious, Rassen could only barely make out Kasumi as she knelt opposite him, the thief little more than a blurry mass of different colours. He tried to speak, but his tongue felt as though it had doubled in weight, the muscle slow and unresponsive.

"Have… have to …heal her," he managed finally, his vision now almost completely black. It hurt to even draw breath and talking was a herculean task, but he nonetheless forced himself to continue. "Her… her eye. I have to try. I—"

"You can't, Rassen," Kasumi interrupted gently. "Not now. We need to get you back to your room." She fell silent for a moment. "Just breathe. I'll stay with Shaela, okay? I'll make sure nothing happens to her while you recover."

A wave of shame suddenly washed over him as his head lolled to the side, his sight now completely gone. "I'm… I'm sorry, Kasumi. For what I… what I said. It was not me."

"Not you?" Despite not being able to see the thief's face, Rassen knew she was looking at him in total confusion. "What do you… Rassen, I don't understand."

There was the sound of a door opening, followed by footsteps. Rassen was just barely aware of the sensation of being lifted from the ground by multiple pairs of arms and lowered onto a soft surface. "Not… me…" he managed.

He didn't hear Kasumi's reply as unconsciousness finally claimed him.

"One more time, Commander. From the beginning. Leaving nothing out."

It took every last ounce of his self-control not to let out a loud sigh of frustration or glance wistfully at the door behind him. Sitting a little more upright in his chair, and fighting the urge to wince as the plastic creaked for what must have been the hundredth time since the interview had begun, Shepard reached for the cup of water on the table in front of him. Both it and the table were also made of plastic, no doubt due to the perceived risk he represented to the woman sitting opposite him. Not that it would have made much difference in the grand scheme of things had the drinking vessel been made of glass. Four marines armed with M-8 Avengers surrounded the two of them, one standing in each corner of the room. Against those odds, a glass wasn't much of a weapon, no matter who was wielding it.

Taking a sip of his water, which had gone from chilled to room temperature by this point, Shepard slowly placed the cup back down on the table. "Is there any point?" he said evenly, keeping his tone as respectful as he could manage. "I've told you everything three times already, Rear Admiral Jakobson."

While she had given little about herself away during the nearly five hours their meeting had lasted so far, it still had not taken long for Shepard to develop a deep dislike for the woman across from him. The moment she had entered the room and their gazes had met, he had been able to tell that not only did she not trust him, but that she also wasn't willing to even entertain the notion that her initial opinion of him could be wrong. That she had arrived ten minutes after he had first been escorted into the room by the marines who currently surrounded the pair of them only further confirmed that she viewed speaking with him like an interrogation, rather than a debriefing.

Instead of replying immediately, Jakobson leaned forward, placing both of her elbows on the table and interlocking her fingers as she did so. Despite how rail-thin the middle-aged woman was, the table let out a nearly identical if not slightly louder creak to the one Shepard's chair had as it adjusted to the unexpected weight. It was a credit to the intensity of the rear admiral's stare that the seriousness of the moment was not undermined by the unexpected sound, which had been loud enough to draw a glance from one of the marines on Shepard's right, though the man quickly stood back at attention before Jakobson could notice the lapse.

"Unfortunately, Commander," she said finally, her voice calm but still possessing an unpleasant edge, "I still don't believe you've told me everything yet. Your account remains short on detail in several areas, especially in regards to the Mandalorians. While we do have one of them captive, she has so far refused to tell us anything. However, initial tests conducted on her armour and weapons have confirmed the presence of previously unknown compounds and even manufacturing techniques." Jakobson raised an eyebrow mockingly before continuing. "We both know that they are far more than just a 'mercenary group,' as you have claimed repeatedly during this session."

Realising his hands had slowly tightened into fists underneath the table, though thankfully he seemed to be the only one who had noticed, Shepard forced himself to try and calm down. Carefully uncurling his fingers, he then placed his hands flat on top of the table, ignoring how doing so caused the marines to shift in response. "I've already said that I don't know much about them," he countered, internally wincing as he felt a small amount of his frustration leak into his voice. "And you've just covered most of what little I do know; that their equipment is like nothing we've seen before. The only other thing is that they believe themselves to be honourable warriors, rather than the cheap thugs they actually are."

"Do you know where they're based?"

Shepard froze for the briefest of moments, but he could tell immediately from the glint in Jakobson's eyes that she had noticed. "Your association with Cerberus remains a rather large black mark on your record, Commander," she said slowly, pressing her advantage and clearly enjoying herself as she did so. "That's putting it lightly, of course. But with their history when it comes to illegal experiments and advanced technology, surely you can understand why it isn't a stretch for me to imagine your former employers and the Mandalorians may be linked in some way?"

Internally, Shepard cursed. Practically the instant he had arrived on Earth a week ago, Admiral Hackett had summoned him to give an account of everything that had happened since he had activated the Crucible. Throughout much of his recounting of events, Hackett had remained silent, only rarely interrupting to ask for clarification on a particular point. Even though Shepard had left nothing out, despite how unbelievable and bizarre everything that had happened to him was, the older man had believed him. Believed every part, from meeting the artificial intelligence that had created the Reapers, to his choice to wipe out all synthetic life, to waking up on what was left of Aratoht and everything that had transpired since then.

That had been the first debriefing Shepard had been subjected to, and at the end Hackett had sat in thoughtful silence for nearly a minute before telling him, in no uncertain terms, that practically the entirety of the Alliance's senior brass wanted to conduct their own interviews with him, and that he couldn't restrain them all. The admiral had then added that he doubted many of them would take everything in his account seriously. In particular, Hackett had stressed that with everyone wanting nothing more than to focus on rebuilding now that the Reapers were gone, the idea that there could be potential threats from other galaxies would find no one willing to hear it. At least not for the moment. He had then finished by saying that whatever might be lurking in Rassen's galaxy, if it was truly as dangerous as Mandalore had claimed, then the reconstruction effort was even more important than before, and nothing should disrupt it.

So, while Hackett hadn't outright told Shepard to lie, the implication that he should keep any talk of other galaxies to himself had been clear. So far, he had managed to do just that in every other interview, getting away with providing only a few vague details in regards to the Mandalorians and, for that matter, Rassen when he had been asked about either subject. Well, that was of course with the exception of two subsequent meetings Hackett had summoned him to. Both had seen the admiral pose him a few new questions, but Shepard had got the distinct impression each time that the older man had actually been using them as a cover to see how he was holding up under the pressure of being constantly scrutinised.

With Jakobson now focusing on the topic of where the Mandalorians were from, though, he had only two choices. Flat-out lie, which she would almost certainly see through given how suspicious she already was of him, or tell the truth, which she also almost certainly wouldn't believe and would therefore regard as a lie anyway.

As he sat there desperately considering his options, deeply conscious both of Jakobson's smug expression and the seconds ticking by, it suddenly occurred to Shepard that he had a third option. One that had served him well so many times before. The option to go on the attack.

Making his decision, Shepard rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving Jakobson's, even as four identical clicking noises filled the air. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he then slowly moved his hands so they were shoulder width apart on the table. Leaning forward, he continued to maintain the eye-lock with the woman opposite him, refusing to so much as blink, even as she hesitantly waved for the marines to switch the safeties of their weapons back on.

"Let me be perfectly clear," he began, his voice growing stronger with each word. "To the best of my knowledge, Cerberus died with the Illusive Man on the Citadel during the final battle over Earth. Working with them to stop the Collectors was something I hated doing at the time, and I still hate that I had to do it. But it was necessary. In case you have forgotten, ma'am, the Council spent years trying to sweep the Reapers under the rug by claiming Sovereign was a geth warship. And the Alliance was no better."

He paused for a moment to catch his breath before continuing. "I've made choices that will stay with me for the rest of my life. Working with Cerberus is one of them. But no one else was doing anything about the Reapers. No one else took them seriously. Once the Collectors were defeated and the Illusive Man demanded I leave their base to him instead of destroying it, I severed my ties with his organisation. My only goal, my only driving force once I learned what the Reapers were, was to stop them, no matter what."

Stopping to catch his breath again, Shepard then narrowed his eyes. "Was that true for you as well, ma'am, or were you like the politicians who buried their heads in the sand after Sovereign's attack on the Citadel? Anyone with a brain could tell it wasn't a geth ship. Did you do something useful afterwards, or did you pretend for years that the Reapers weren't real while you concentrated on climbing the ranks?"

Jakobson's victorious expression cracked, a flash of outrage passing through her eyes before she managed to conceal her anger. She took several seconds to reply, but when she finally did, her voice was calm and measured. Nonetheless, it still practically dripped with smugness.

"As diverting as that was, you still have not answered the question, Commander," she smirked. "And this interview will not progress any further until you do."

Although he kept his expression neutral, silently Shepard cursed his luck. For a second there he had been sure Jakobson would take the bait and attempt to defend her actions, or what he was guessing was actually a profound lack thereof, prior to the Reaper War, thereby abandoning her current line of questioning. Given she would also see through any further attempts at distraction now that he had tipped his hand, he was left with only his original two options. Either tell her about the other galaxy or continue to claim he had already told her everything he knew about the Mandalorians. And neither choice would lead to a good outcome.

The tension in the small room grew as the two of them attempted to stare one another down. Jakobson smiled tauntingly, not even attempting to hide the fact that she knew she had him trapped. While Shepard had never heard of her before she had introduced herself at the start of the interview, she was still a very highly ranked officer in the Alliance navy and could make his life extremely difficult going forward if she put her mind to it. She could potentially even get away with having him court-martialled if she suspected him of outright lying to her, despite everything he had done against the Reapers.

The silence was suddenly broken by a hissing noise from behind him, and Shepard instinctively turned around just in time to see the door open, the slab of metal splitting into quarters which each retracted into a different corner of the frame. A single figure then entered the room from the hallway outside, their instantly recognisable dark blue and grey armour an even more welcome sight than normal.

"Sorry for arriving uninvited," Garrus Vakarian announced, making no attempt to make his apology seem genuine as he struggled to suppress the turian equivalent of a grin. "But the commander is needed elsewhere."

Shepard struggled to hide a grin of his own as Jakobson's expression changed to resemble that of someone who had just been forced to witness something deeply unpleasant. "In case you somehow haven't noticed, Vakarian," she snapped, "Commander Shepard is currently relaying to me his account of the events that have transpired since the defeat of the Reapers. This interview is of paramount importance."

The turian's mandibles opened in a smile. "I'm sure, Rear Admiral Jakobson, but I last saw him a week ago, and unfortunately we didn't have time to catch up then. Since Shepard is a close friend, I'm sure you can understand why this can't wait any longer."

Jakobson's face had by now turned an ugly shade of red. "Commander Shepard is a member of the Systems Alliance navy," she seethed, "and—"

"Admiral Hackett gave me the green light to interrupt," Garrus interjected, his mandibles even further apart now. "He also asked me to apologise on his behalf for… How did he put it? Ah, yes. 'Inconveniencing you unexpectedly,' I think that was the phrase used."

The turian let his words hang in the air for a moment, clearly enjoying himself. "Jokes about catching up with old friends aside," he continued, "the admiral needs to speak with the commander about something, and asked me to go and get him. You should have a message from him on your omni-tool, of course. But he sent me just in case you didn't see it."

Without giving Jakobson a chance to verify what he had just said, Garrus turned towards Shepard before inclining his head towards the open door, his grin still in place. Completely lost as to just what the hell was going on, Shepard hesitated for a moment, before finally moving to join the turian. Turning to look back at Jakobson as he reached where Garrus stood, her thunderous expression proved too tempting to ignore, despite his confusion.

"Thank you for the conversation, ma'am."

Garrus chuckled as the two of them walked out of the room and into the hallway beyond, the door automatically closing behind them. Stopping and turning to face him, the turian extended his forearm.

"You never could resist a good one-liner, Shepard."

Grinning by way of reply, Shepard grabbed the offered limb. Garrus returned the gesture, both of them squeezing with increasing pressure as they attempted to force the other man to back down. After a few seconds, Shepard relaxed his grip and pulled his arm free, shaking his head as the turian laughed before clapping him on the shoulder. Laughing himself for a moment, he then found his mirth fading slightly as his earlier confusion returned.

"Where the hell have you been, Garrus?" he asked, gesturing at the door behind them. "I thought turians took helping their comrades seriously. Thought it would be funny to leave me to deal with the higher-ups on my own for a week?"

Garrus laughed again before shrugging. "Actually, I've been trying to get to you ever since we arrived here on Earth. It took a lot of complaining on my part, but the right people finally relented." A second shrug followed the first. "Besides, you've always found it easier dealing with bureaucracy than I have, Shepard."

Shepard crossed his arms, giving the turian a knowing look before replying. "Still, do you think Tali will approve of you abandoning me in my hour of need?"

Garrus suddenly looked uncomfortable, and Shepard winced as he realised he might have touched on an unexpectedly sensitive topic. He had first learned the turian and quarian were together upon entering the room that housed the Normandy's main battery just before the final battle against the Reapers. Intending to talk to Garrus before the fighting started and expecting him to be alone, Shepard had instead found the pair locked in an embrace. While he had excused himself as soon as he realised that he had accidentally intruded upon a private moment, the awkward way in which Garrus and Tali had extricated themselves from one another had been a dead giveaway that their relationship was a very recent development. For all Shepard knew, anything could have happened between the two of them since then, whether good or bad.

"Are you guys… okay?" he asked, mentally kicking himself a second later at how tactless the question sounded, now that it was out in the open.

Thankfully, Garrus perked up. "Yeah," the turian replied, smiling optimistically. "She's on Rannoch helping with the resettlement, so we're having to go the long-distance route for now. But it's going well."

Shepard nodded at that, silently relieved. "Why did you look as though you'd just walked in on Wrex changing out of his armour for a second there then?" he asked, unable to keep a straight face as he spoke.

Garrus shuddered at the mental image. "You know how good she is with that shotgun. Even thinking about her being angry is enough to make a man nervous."

The turian suddenly set off down the hallway, gesturing for Shepard to follow him. "But as fun as this is," Garrus continued, "we should probably get to the shuttle before we keep Hackett waiting for too long. Whatever he wants to talk to you about, I got the feeling it was important."

Quickly catching up, Shepard shrugged by way of reply. "He's an admiral, Garrus. Pretty sure they only deal in important."

"Yeah." Garrus fell silent for a moment as they walked, presumably thinking about how best to word what he wanted to say next. "What happened after you activated the Crucible?" the turian asked finally, his mandibles tightening. "Hackett hasn't told me anything, just given me the usual line about everything being on a need to know basis. I know this isn't the first time you've kicked death in the teeth, Shepard, but where the hell have you been for the last three months?"

Shepard shook his head, feeling weary at the prospect of having to relay everything for a fourth time that day. "It's a long story," he replied, before a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Speaking of which, how did you end up tagging along with an Alliance task force in the first place, Garrus, and why did Hackett send you to come and get me instead of someone actually under his command? And how the hell do you and Jakobson know each other? Seems like there's a story there as well."

Garrus nodded. "There is. But Hackett's on the other side of the planet right now, so I'll tell you all about it once we're in the air."

They reached a junction and the turian gestured for them to turn left down another corridor. Out of the corner of his eye, Shepard saw the other man's serious expression crack slightly, his mandibles opening just barely. "But after that," Garrus continued, "it's your turn to talk." He leaned in conspiratorially. "And Shepard? I've already guessed that Kasumi factors in very heavily."

Grinning in reply, Shepard pointed at the scars that dominated the right side of the turian's head. "Careful with your insinuations, Vakarian. Remember, you're already down to just half a face."

It was hard to tell which of them laughed the loudest at that.

It was not me.

As she sat opposite Shaela's decontamination unit on the simple plastic chair an orderly had brought in for her, Kasumi found she could not stop herself from replaying Rassen's words over and over again in her mind. Constantly analysing them from every angle she could think of as she tried to figure out what exactly he had meant.

When the Jedi Knight had turned his anger towards her, something had felt… off. Wrong, for lack of a better term. It was not the fact that Rassen had been furious and lashed out as a result itself, though, as anyone in his position could have acted in a similar manner. No, it was something about the way he had looked at her. As if not only had he been furious at her in that moment, but he had also wanted to genuinely hurt her. The malice Rassen had projected had been so unlike him that even though the confrontation had occurred only a matter of minutes ago, she still struggled to believe it had really happened. It didn't help matters that she could have sworn his eyes had somehow changed colour for a split-second, though she was sure now that it must have been a trick of the light.

So, assuming Rassen had still been somewhat lucid when he had spoken, just what had he been trying to tell her?

Shaking her head slowly, Kasumi let out a loud sigh as her frustration threatened to boil over. Raising both hands to her temples, she began to massage them through the material of her hood, attempting to stave off the headache she could feel coming on. Reading a person's body language was one thing. It was something any thief of note had to be capable of doing. Figuring out what was going on deep inside an individual's head, though, that was always tricky, even for someone used to spending hours at a time simply observing the behaviour of others.

With Rassen currently out of commission again, she couldn't exactly ask him what he had meant, though. In truth, she was just glad he was back in his room resting. Despite how terrifying his collapse had been, Doctor Keita had informed her after conducting a few tests that the Jedi Knight seemingly hadn't set his recovery back too far and that his vitals were stable. The doctor had then excused himself, saying other patients urgently needed his help but that he would check back soon.

Sighing again, more loudly this time, Kasumi then leaned her head back until it came into contact with the wall behind her, leaving her staring up at the ceiling helplessly. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to entertain the idea of sneaking out of the hospital for a few minutes. Not even to steal anything, just to get some fresh air. After a week stuck inside the same building, massive as it was, cabin fever was really beginning to set in. Even poking her head out of a window and lowering her hood to feel the wind in her hair seemed like a thrilling prospect at this point.

Reluctantly, Kasumi quashed the thought before it could take root too firmly in her mind. The situation was too delicate for her to go gallivanting off on her own, even if she was sure she could be back before anyone even noticed she was missing. While she wasn't too worried about how breaking the Alliance's little curfew and getting caught would affect her personally, given her lack of ties to the organisation, it would undoubtedly increase the amount of scrutiny Shepard was already being subjected to. Also, she had just made a promise. One she didn't intend to break, regardless of how trapped she felt.

"Damn it," she muttered, before rising to her feet, suddenly unable to bear the idea of sitting down for a second longer as her mind continued to race. Starting to rub her temples again as she did so, the thief began to pace around the room, slowly orbiting the decontamination unit at its centre as she tried to calm her thoughts. She was stuck, unable to do anything to either improve the current situation or even distract herself from it. All she could do for the moment was wait. Wait for Shepard to get back. Wait for Rassen to wake up. Wait for Shaela to show any signs of progress whatsoever.

As the minutes crawled by agonisingly slowly and constantly going round in circles began to make her feel dizzy, however, it was of no use. There had to be something she could do instead of nothing. Pausing as an idea suddenly occurred to her, Kasumi slowly approached the white cuboid in the middle of the room before staring down at it. Even knowing Shaela was inside the decontamination unit, it was still impossible to make out any of the quarian's distinguishing features, its mostly opaque nature rendering her little more than a blurry silhouette. Even the unique shapes of her legs and helmet were obscured.

"Hey, Shaela."

Kasumi winced at how stupid she felt as she addressed the unconscious woman. "It's all over," she continued, trying to sound positive and reassured despite the lump in her throat. "We won. You're safe now. We're all safe. Just… get well soon, okay?" She trailed off for a moment, unsure how to continue. "You didn't deserve… I'm so sorry about your eye, it…" She trailed off again, angrily rubbing her eyes with her sleeve as her vision started to blur. "You just… you just worry about getting better. Wake up when you're… when you're ready."

Stepping away from the decontamination unit, Kasumi made her way back to her chair before nearly collapsing into it, her legs surprisingly shaky after the brief outpouring of emotion. She doubted that what she had just said would make a difference, but she still hoped her words had registered with the quarian on a subconscious level. Kasumi couldn't remember where, but she was certain she had heard or read once that people in a coma were aware, at least to a limited extent, of when someone was talking to them, and could possibly even process what they were being told. As to whether that was actually true or not, though, she had no idea.

Fixing her gaze on the decontamination unit, Kasumi wiped her eyes again. She was surprised to realise in that moment that she was beginning to feel a little tired, the last vestiges of the adrenaline rush caused by Rassen's collapse having left her system by this point. It was hard to be sure without her omni-tool, but her instincts told her it was at least late evening. Ignoring the urge to try and sleep until something interesting happened, the thief instead forced herself to remain focused and alert, her face set in a determined expression.

"Come on, Shaela," she whispered. "You can beat this."