Desert planets. Why was it always desert planets?

James sighed as he readied to don his helmet. It wasn't that he disliked an arid environment, he'd had plenty of hot and dry weather growing up in San Diego, but the seemingly endless supply of dry, lifeless desert planets the greater galaxy had to offer made him long for a peaceful garden world every once in a while as he, Shepard, Vod sat in thick silence as the shuttle descended through the atmosphere of Ponemah Terminal. He watched his friend and former lover closely, knowing better than most that she was hanging by a thread. Shepard was undoubtedly tough and resilient, but in the six months he had been her bodyguard during her detainment on Earth, he had come to learn her tells on an intimate level.

Aside from the dark circles under her eyes and the slight gaunt of her cheeks, indicating she wasn't getting enough sleep and forgetting to eat, he noticed the rapid bouncing of her right leg as she sat on the bench next to him and that she was chewing on the inside of her lower lip. He had come to learn that both meant she was uncertain of her course of action, despite trying to put forth an air of confidence. When she rolled her shoulders and rotated her neck, he knew they were both an attempt to relieve the tension from too many hours hunched over a terminal or data pad. Aside from the obvious fact that she was grieving the fate of the Clone Army, and felt responsible for not stopping Order 66, James knew she was spinning inside. She was determined to find Kix, but also blindly desperate. There weren't many times he had seen grief get the better of her judgment, perhaps twice at most, but when it did, she needed someone to keep her grounded.

As the shuttle neared the surface, the turbulence of the unfettered sandstorm caused the craft to shudder violently. The trio bounced in their seats at the jolts and held onto grab bars to keep from being tossed about. Shepard donned her helmet as well, and opened her Omni-Tool, verifying they were nearing the signal.

"I see the wreck, Captain," Cortez called from the cockpit over the din of the howling winds. "The storm is a nightmare on my instruments and comms are spotty. You're gonna have to make this quick. If the storm gets much worse, we'll be grounded until it passes."

"We shouldn't be long," she replied, as they slowed, drawing and readying her rifle as the door slid open.

Immediately, the onslaught of sand in the extreme winds broke their shields as the three dashed for cover in the carcass of the elongated Separatist cruiser. The nose of the ship had been buried in the sand, following what was clearly an uncontrolled descent through the atmosphere. The aft section of the ship had stayed aloft when the vessel came to rest, but after months of bombardment of extreme weather, the exposed half had succumbed to the gravity of the planet and sagged into the ground as well.

Determined as ever, Shepard forced the ajar access door open enough for the trio to slip inside as Cortez landed the shuttle on the lee side of the wreck in an attempt to protect the Kodiak as much as possible. James and Vod followed her in, helmet lights illuminating the large, eerily silent corridor. They pushed forward, avoiding the remains of battle droids and equipment alike as they trudged up the steep incline toward the forward half of the ship and the faint life sign within.


Joker shifted nervously in his seat. He always hated losing comms during a mission, especially when it was Shepard's. It reminded him far too much of the final push to retake Earth and defeat the Reaper's once and for all, when she vanished into the thick red of Harbinger's beam, leaving them in the dark if she was alive or not. The memories of that day, of being forced to leave the system as the Crucible fired, made his skin prickle and muscles tense. He hated the feeling.

"Edi, how are the scopes looking?" He asked, trying to find reassurance.

"Scopes are quiet, Jeff," she replied, knowing why he was asking. "I'm still linked to Vega's vitals via his HUD. There are no signs they are engaged in a firefight at this time."

"Good," he unconsciously scratched at the right side of his beard, an unconscious habit when he was nervous, which he had been doing more and more in recent months. "Keep a close eye on it."

"Jeff," she quietly, if knowingly stated, gesturing to his hand with a gentle nod.

Realizing what he was doing, he dropped his hand to the armrest of his seat, "Yeah…thanks Edi."

They sat in extended silence, though he kept checking the scanner. Alenko approached and asked for an update. Everyone was on edge when the comms were dark. Suddenly, an alarm trilled.

"My sensors are detecting a ship preparing to drop from hyperspace," Edi notified. "The profile matches an Imperial cruiser."

"Enable the stealth drive and get us out of visual range, Joker," Kaidan ordered. "Keep trying the comms, they need to know what's headed their way."

"I've got a bad feeling about this," he muttered to himself as the ship pulled out of orbit.


Scuttled ships always gave Vega the creeps, especially ships filled with inactive robots…platforms…whatever they were called in those parts. Scorch marks on the walls and scattered bones among the blasted droid parts told the tale of an apparent standoff between the Separatists and whomever ventured into the ship seeking opportunity. His heart was pounding in his ears after clearing the corners and being startled by yet another husk of a B1 lingering in the darkness. The torches on their helmets and weapons made their trek through the inky blackness of the ship like something out of a horror vid. Outside the compromised durasteel hull, the wind howled across the numerous jagged holes left by the crash and worked bigger and bigger by the merciless work of sand and time, which only added to the tension in his gut.

Still, they pushed forward as quickly as they could, reasoning that the sooner they cleared the ship and either did or didn't find Kix, the faster they could get the hell out of there. Their initial entry was relatively simple, no doubt the easily accessible fore section being picked clean by scavengers looking for easy parts or supplies. There was even evidence of the skeleton and detritus of the ship being scrapped as well, with missing panels that were cut clean in search of wiring, fuses, and couplings. However, once they made the initial climb to the apex of the broken vessel, their descent into the bowels was a much more dangerous affair.

The access point was small, barely big enough for him to squeeze through. Attaching her weapon to her back, she activated her Omni-Tool to verify they were on the right track to the faint lifesign Kix was giving off. All three peered down into the darkness, hoping to see the bottom but instead saw the light fade into the seemingly endless abyss.

"Shepard Captain, we advise allowing us to descend first. This platform will be undamaged by the impact," Vod recommended.

"Do it," she nodded in agreement.

Releasing the deck, they slid out of sight, only the occasional clang giving any indication he was still there. As they waited, Vega looked at Shepard, trying to find the right thing to say, something that would help her see the insanity of their mission. But she stubbornly held her gaze down the shaft, refusing to give him more than a fractional glance, because she knew what he was going to say. It was everything she had been grappling with for months as she clung to the faintest of hopes that their efforts wouldn't end in utter failure. Just as he opened his mouth, their comms crackled.

"We have reached the bottom. There is another break in the hull not far from your position. From there the angel of descent levels off. You should reach the bottom without injury."

Without hesitation, Shepard released the deck and followed Vod. Sighing and muttering a string of profanity in Spanish, Vega dutifully followed. As promised, they reached a bend in the hull about halfway down. The inky blackness enveloped everything but their torches on their gear, casting jagged shadows at every glance. They jogged the remainder of the way, regrouping and assessing their position.

The sound of the storm outside was significantly muffled, indicating they had reached the buried section of the wreck as they pushed on. Around them the hull was crumpled and crushed from the weight of the sands above, which was also leaking in through the numerous holes. As they proceeded, the durasteel groaned under stress, compelling James to speak up.

"Shepard, this is loco," he tried to appeal to her sense of reason. "This thing could collapse at any moment."

She paused just long enough to check her tool before continuing, "I'm not turning back now. Head back out if you want, but I'm not leaving without Kix."

Biting back frustrated words, he nodded briskly and firmed the grip on his Mattock, indicating he was in. She exhaled sharply through her nose and continued on in the thick darkness. Eventually, they reached a door that was partly ajar at the base. The scanner read a strong signal within, so Shepard peered through the gap on her hands and knees. Adrenaline flooded her body at the sight of an elongated oval pod that faintly glowed blue from a small port window at the top.

"He's here!" She called. "Get the door open!"

Together the three pushed and heaved and eventually pried the warped durasteel back, despite its groaning, screeching protests. The pod had fallen from its holding clamps in the crash and lay against a broken bulkhead. They managed to level it on the floor as Shepard squeezed through the gap and darted to the pod, wiping away the film of sand and dust obscuring the view port. A breath caught in her throat. It was Kix, peacefully asleep, blissfully unaware that the Republic had fallen to the Empire, that the Grand Army had slaughtered the Jedi, and that his brothers of the 501st were dead.

"Vod, start working to get this thing open."

As they went to work, Shepard tried to reach Cortez on her comm. There was no way they were going to be able to reascend the way they came, especially if Kix was just out of stasis. Unable to get through, she and Vega returned to the corridor to look for an alternate exit. Their only option was a break in the hull on the port side where the ship had more or less broken in two. Muted daylight seeped through the crack, indicating they were at the surface of the dune.

"Battle droids were sometimes equipped with cutting torches," she instructed, looking at the docking slots. "See if you can find one."

They looked among the inactive droids, bones of animals and scavengers unlucky enough to be trapped, and the unending piles of drifting sand. As they searched, a series of impacts reverberated through the ship followed by the dull thunder of footfalls. Vega's earlier concerns were verified, which he communicated with a knowing glance. The Empire had found them. Incentivized to hurry, she finally found a fusion-cutter attached to a B2 droid still in its docking station. Checking the fuel canister, she thrust it into Vega's hand. Reluctant and unfamiliar with the tool, he darkened the visor on his helmet and went to work all the same as Shepard returned to the cell where Vod was working to free Kix.

"How's it going?" She asked as patiently as possible.

"Kix Medic's vitals are stable. We are working to find the proper sequence of commands to awaken him without risking his life."

"We don't have time. Troopers are in the ship making their way toward us. Do your best, okay?"

Pulling her rifle from her shoulder, she returned to James and stood at the ready as he worked. The process of cutting through the hull was slow and likely wasn't the intended load of the torch. Together, with the use of her Omni-Tool, they cut the durasteel part way and bent the jagged edges aside, until the gap was big enough they could slip out. Tossing the used torch aside, Vega drew his assault rifle, took a position behind a fallen bulkhead, and waited as the sandstorm raged just beyond the protective shell of the ship.

"How's he doing?" He asked Shepard as they watched the entrance.

"Stable, but it's slow going. We have to buy Vod some time."

"You really going to be able to pull the trigger on clones?"

The question bit at her conscience, having already been confronted with the necessity of killing Rex's brothers in combat. She answered Vega's question with her eyes and, even through the plexi visor in the darkened ship, she saw his shoulders slump at her reply.

"These are probably TK troopers anyway. Enlisted soldiers who have chosen the Empire's side freely. It didn't take Palpatine long to phase out the clones once they had fulfilled their purpose."

She tried to reach Cortez to ensure their exit was secured, but only got a broken signal. There was nothing left to do but wait and hold the line. Ahead of them, she heard the echoing clatter of cheap plastoid and the zip of blasters being charged. It seemed they wouldn't have to wait long.

"Up ahead!" A voice called. "I see tracks!"

Shepard aimed through her scope, reading the thermal signatures of the advancing troops. Without hesitation, she squeezed the trigger, the crack of her black widow echoing through the cavernous ship. Just as she fired a second and recovered from the recoil for a third, waves of red blaster bolts descended on their cover. The troopers opened fire, blasting blindly into the darkness. As they slowly advanced, James threw one of his grenades before returning fire with his assault rifle.

Static crackled in her ear as Cortez finally made contact, "Captain, signal me when you're ready for extraction and I'll do a flyby. It'll be tight, but we can make it."

"How's the Normandy?" She asked in reply as they continued to take down trooper after trooper.

"Bogged down, but holding strong. The window is closing, so hurry."

"Vod!" Shepard shouted into her comm, "Anytime would be great!"

"We almost have the pod open," they replied tensely. "Please standby."

Ahead of them, the unit was advancing steadily, despite their efforts. It wouldn't be long before they were overrun.

"I'm open to ideas," James yelled, throwing his last grenade.

Using a biotic push, she sent the line reeling back, dashed to his position and opened her Omni-tool. Working furiously, she tapped into the residual power supply of the ship and took control of what remained of the battle droids. The lights of the ship powered on briefly before the platforms came to life. Staggering out of their slots, they descend on their assigned targets. Super battle droids advanced against the stormtroopers who immediately retreated to cover.

Although a sound tactic, they both knew the now antiquated, sand laden droids likely wouldn't last long. Behind them, the distinct illuminated head of Vod and the slumped shadow of Kix entered the corridor. They ducked behind cover as Vod took Shepard's place in holding the Imperial forces at bay. She knelt next to the clone, taking his face in her hand.

"Kix, you okay?" She hollered over the cacophony around them.

He nodded, but was clearly disoriented from his abrupt waking from stasis. Vod joined the fray, making sure to keep him behind cover. Shepard opened her comm, barking orders at Cortez, who acknowledged her orders and confirmed a flyby. Calling to James, she ordered him out first with Kix as Vod provided cover. Their departure was noticed by the troopers, who immediately pushed forward through the compromised droids. She was the last one out, making sure to leave several thermal detonators behind for good measure.

They staggered and climbed to the top of the Dune where the shuttle was waiting. When the last of the battle droids fell the troopers immediately advanced, opening fire as they boarded the craft. In a flash of swirling sand and blaster bolts the group made their escape.

As expected, the ascent through orbit was bumpy, tossing them around the cabin until they were able to strap in. Clearly the Empire did not want any of them to get away. Once they were clear of the atmosphere, the Normandy dropped from an evasive FTL jump, just long enough to pluck the shuttle from space. No sooner had they cleared the kinetic barriers than engines revved to get them clear of the sector.

"Joker, we're in, get us the fuck out of here!" Vega shouted over the comm in the cockpit as the shuttle settled onto the deck. "Set course for the Veil."

"Aye-aye, Commander," he replied. "Setting course."

"Belay that order! Shepard exclaimed from her place at Kix's side, but her protest went ignored.

Vega continued undeterred, despite the slight glance over his shoulder, "Plot three jump changes along the way. Let's make sure we give the Empire the slip.

The engines immediately pulsed and engaged, spurring Shepard to follow James as he brushed past her and out of the shuttle. She ran after him, grabbed his shoulder and yanked hard, forcing him to face her.

"I'm talking to you, Vega! I'm not done out here!"

His normally calm face pulled into a tight snarl and he snapped with a finger jabbed into her chest, "Yes, you are! You're done, Shepard! Enough. We're going home!"

When he turned away from her toward the lift, she ran in front of him to protest. For the first time since he'd known her, he put his sheer strength on display by picking her up by the side edges of her chest plate and moving her aside like a child without breaking his stride. Dropping her back on the deck several paces later, more or less shoving her toward the gear lockers, he took a step but turned back with several final, cutting words.

"Getting yourself killed searching for Rex isn't going to bring your mother back!"

As the words echoed through the hangar, a silence hung in the high ceiling as though all the air had been vented into the vacuum of space.

Her eyes flew wide and her mouth dropped for a moment, "The fuck did you just say?"

Although he knew he shouldn't have said it, there was no going back, "You heard me, Shepard. You couldn't save your mother then, so now you'll kill yourself trying to save everyone else, no matter the price to the people around you."

"That isn't what this is about!"

"Like hell it isn't! This was never your war and any other normal person would have let the Republic sort its own shit out. You decided you were going to get in the middle of it before you had even set foot on the Normandy again!"

"I never asked you to follow me out here!" She deflected.

"Did you honestly think any person on this boat was going to leave you behind? Every one of us is here because we care more about you than you care about yourself or what you mean to the people who have been with you from the beginning," he chuckled in disbelief. "Are you really going to make us bury you again?"

A breath caught in her chest as she looked in the eyes of the soldiers, suddenly seeing outside herself. She wanted to rebuke his accusation, deny that she could be so selfish and singularly focused but she couldn't. Vega was right.

"James I…"

"How many more second chances are you going to get to live your life?" He asked, pointedly reflecting back the words she had spoken to him a year earlier.

She felt the eyes of everyone in the hangar on her, watching and waiting for her next move. If she truly wanted to, she could compel them to stay. It wouldn't take an order or a command, she could just ask and deep down she knew they would. The men and women who made up the crew of the Normandy were good soldiers, many of whom had already followed her through the gates of hell and back, but risking their lives was never her desire. She had actively avoided risking their lives, knowing the cause to which she had devoted herself had nothing to do with them, or the Alliance, or the Citadel Council, or anyone back home. Yet, they waited quietly for her to either insist or relent.

"Shepard," Kix broke the thick silence between them as Cortez and Vod helped him approach, "Rex wouldn't want you to do this. Wherever he is, if he's even still alive, he'd want you to go home and move on. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy."

"I can't do that," her voice wavered. "I'm not strong enough."

"Lola," Vega stepped close, placing a hand on her shoulder bell. "I know how hard this is but…please. Don't make us lose you for good."

At the sincerity and honesty of his plea, her eyes fell. Painful as it was, she had to concede the odds of finding Rex or Ahsoka before the Empire, when she had no leads to speak of, were infinitesimal, and pushing the pursuit would only result in more collateral damage than she'd already experienced.

As Kix was taken to the lift, and James departed for the bridge, she turned and looked at her haggard ship. It was a reflection of herself. Overworked, exhausted, and at least for the moment, out of the fight. Although she wanted to vow that she'd return, that she'd refuse to let Palpatine win, her resolve fractured. Walking away from a fight was never in her nature, nor was bowing her head in defeat, but as she began slowly shucking her gear and placing it in the equipment locker, she truly looked at her kit. Numerous hairline fractures in the surface of the ceramic plating and patches of melted carbon fiber from breakthrough blaster shots. The N7 emblem she had worked so hard to earn was warped and marred from the fight. As much as she resisted admitting it to herself, maybe even Captain Fucking Shepard couldn't beat the odds this time.

Defeated, she closed the locker and handed her weapons to Cortez, who dutifully stood by to receive them for maintenance and cleaning. With a somber nod of appreciation, she turned to the lift and waited. When the door opened, she saw Garrus looking worried as ever. He knew the expression she wore all too well, it was one she often visited him with during their fight against the Collectors as she tried to reconcile the allies she had lost in her decision to stay with Cerberus for the sake of the mission. With an appraising hum, he waved her into the carriage.

"Come on, Shepard. You look like you need a drink."


Shepard set the glass on the top of the bar and took a deep breath, rubbing the tired muscles on the back of her neck as Garrus looked at her in stunned silence. To her left, the barriers swirled and flared as the Normandy slipped through hyperspace on the long journey home. After the first round went straight to her head, Garrus brought her a hot meal from the galley, the real food she'd had in months. She ate heartily and immediately poured another glass of scotch as her best friend watched her closely, giving her the space to fully debrief and decompress the prior eight months.

As always he listened quietly, his trained, inescapable cop listening and aware of the clues to how she was talking or what she wasn't saying as an indication of how she was really doing. In reality, he didn't have to work very hard. She was essentially an open book to him, pouring out the isolation, hardship, and defeat she faced after the Normandy had been recalled by the Citadel Council, as well as the subsequent search for Kix. With each close call and near miss she recounted, from being prevented from leaving Kamino with Kina Ha, to her narrow escape thanks to Grin falsifying her death, to the Empire getting closer and closer to her as she searched, he was grateful she was sitting on the Starboard Observation at the bar rather than being held in some nameless hole being tortured for information or drifting amongst the rubble of her ship, never to be found again. Eventually, she quieted and stared at the bottom of her empty glass, having run out of words.

"Shepard, I'm so sorry," he breathed, refilling her glass. "You couldn't have done any more than you did."

She sighed heavily and swirled the aged single malt into her glass for a moment before downing the contents in a single gulp, "None of it mattered. Part of me knew after that first meeting with Palpatine that I couldn't stop it, but I didn't want to accept defeat without trying, you know? If I had been capable of stopping the Reapers, I could stop this, right?" She shook her head and considered another drink, to numb the pain if nothing else, before setting it down and pushing away her empty glass. "After Tup killed General Tiplar, I knew it was over. Seeing that alert on my Omni-tool, realizing what those fucking chips were meant to do? Palpatine had played a long game to get where he was. Some little upstart like me or Fives wasn't going to derail his scheme."

The door slid open, drawing their attention as Kix entered. Shepard studied him for a moment though she couldn't hide the way her brows pinched at the familiarity of his face. Although she waved him over to join them, she also gestured to Garrus for another drink. They sat in a moment of awkward silence, unsure of what to say.

"Thank you for finding me," Kix finally said. "After I was captured, I wasn't sure there was much hope for me."

Shepard nodded slowly, only able to hold his gaze for a brief moment before turning back to the glass she fiddled with in her hands, "I'm glad we found you. It wasn't easy."

"Yeah, Vod gave me a rundown of what happened."

More silence filled the room.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop it," she offered. "I tried, not that it made much difference."

"You had a bigger impact than you realize, Shepard," Kix countered. "Do you remember coming to my medbay and asking about the anomalies on the scans Doctor Chakwas collected? That got me thinking, questioning. After Ringo Vinda, Tup, and Fives, I dug deeper. I went to a clinic on 1313 and had my head scanned. They found my chip and I had them take it out. General Windu got your message about safe protocols and Fives' habits with water. The way he always used clean tabs, even when the water came from Alliance sources. He came to me after I tried to talk to Rex before we arrived on Anaxis. The stories weren't adding up and he knew it."

"Then why didn't he stop Palpatine?" Her voice was desperate to make sense of it all.

"I don't know. Shortly after we saved Echo from Skako Minor, I was captured."

"Echo? Fives said he died on the Citadel."

"He survived," Kix replied. "A prisoner of war until we found him. But…this was all bigger than either of us. With Order 66, I doubt even General Skywalker could have survived."

"Fucking Skywalker," in her inebriated state, she couldn't stop the dismissive huff at the mention of his name as she rambled to herself. "This is all that goddam puppet's fault."

"What do you mean?" Kix asked critically. "That fight you had with him on Ringo Vonda. You called him a puppet then too. Why? What do you know that I don't?"

She immediately regretted her loose tongue, knowing how much the men of the 501st respected their general, "Nothing, I'm just drunk and tired."

"You're lying," he rebuked sharply. "Please show me enough respect to tell the truth of what happened to my general and my brothers."

She released a heavy sigh and slumped back onto the bar with a low head and shoulders. As much as she didn't want to cause Kix more harm by revealing the burdensome truth she had learned upon returning to the Jedi Temple after the purge, he deserved to know. With a nod, he sat next to her, holding her exhausted, glassy gaze as she recounted the details.

"It was a slaughter. No one in the temple saw it coming, nor were they spared, regardless of age," she held his gaze, seeing that he took her meaning. "Vod and I pushed through the bodies and debris searching for anyone that was still alive until we heard fighting in the upper chambers. When we got there we saw Masters Yoda and Kenobi. I saw the security footage. Anakin…" she swallowed back a swell of emotion.

"Say it, please," Kix rested a hand on her shoulder.

As difficult as it was, Shepard realized he had to hear her say the words in order to make it real. "Anakin led the 501st, less the 3-22 to the temple. He led the purge at Palpatine's direction. He…he turned to the dark side."

He nodded slowly and appreciative of the confirmation, "But some Jedi survived. You saw Generals Yoda and Kenobi."

"Yes, what happened to them afterwards…I don't know. Yoda was going to face Palpatine, Obi-wan was going to face Anakin, rather Darth Vader, as he's now known."

"What about Ahsoka? You said she was alive."

"We found the wreck of the Tribunal. Someone buried several dozen troopers. There were two sets of footprints leading away from the site. One set of clone trooper boots and one smaller set of prints. Ahsoka was the only non-clone on the ship, aside from Maul who I'm assuming didn't have small feet. The logical conclusion is that it was Rex and Ahsoka."

Again, he nodded slowly, "That makes sense."

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop it," she repeated.

He shrugged, disconnected and internalized, "Like you said, Palpatine played a long game."

The whole of the prior months suddenly caught up to her and she was exhausted, "From what I've been told, Liara has gotten my apartment ready on the Citadel ready for my return. I…I can't stay there. It's too complicated right now, but I want you to make yourself comfortable as you decide what you want to do now. Liara is going to get you set up with an ID and all the papers you'll need to start over. I have a friend in the wards who runs a clinic. Her name is Doctor Michele. If you want to give civilian life a try, I'd be happy to see if she could meet with you. I'm sure she'd like an extra set of hands down there. You can stay here as long as you like. Make it home if you want."

"What about you?" He asked.

"Once I get things settled with the Citadel Council, I'm going home to Terra. Bureaucracy always demands its pound of flesh, but it shouldn't take long."

"Where will you go?

"My uncle has a pub in Boston. I'm sure he needs some help and I…I just need some time away."

When she looked in his familiar eyes, something broke. She wasn't sure if it was the exhaustion or the alcohol, but being near Kix was far more painful than she anticipated. The lines in his face, the sound of his voice, the comforting feel of his kind, platonic touch was more than she could bear and tore open the emotional wounds she had been desperately trying to ignore until they scarred over.

"I think I need some sleep," she muttered, standing with a sway and walking haphazardly to the lift.

Kix rose to follow, genuinely concerned as she carefully departed, but Garrus stopped him.

"Give her space," he wisely advised. "I know you want to help her, but you're too…"

"Familiar," he finished, immediately understanding the problem.

"Yeah…familiar."