|15|


"What—where is she being taken?" Tor stood back a bit while Casnar spoke with the orderly who was caught in the room arranged for Braith's former observation, and the man waved him to go find Hughe. Turning on heel, he walked out with Tor and went along the railed wall towards the main passage again, "…I can't believe this—one night—"

"What happened to her, Casnar?"

"I'm trying to figure that out, Tor," Casnar turned right and led him up an incline, looking for a face he recognized, stopping to ask anyone he saw and the place seemed damn empty this early in the morning….He went almost to the entrance into the mine and found no sight of Hughe or the nurse technician or, "….George…" He saw the husk walking in from outside.

"Mister Soterios," George stopped in front of them, a little higher due to the incline, "…What can I do for you….You seem distraught."

"Have you seen where Braith went?"

Tor studied the complacent husk as it studied him, then answered Casnar's question with a slow speech, "…Miss Shepard went into intense seizures….She is being flown to the larger hospital in Denver as we speak." George blinked—a dimming of the glow in his eyes—"You should remain with your friend until she returns, I will escort you to see that you are not in need of emotional support…And if you are, I can prescribe you some medicine to help."

"Come on, Casnar," Tor didn't feel comfortable with the husk as it followed them out of the hospital, "…We'll make a call on the communicator at the coffee house, but let's stay calm and not give him a reason to prescribe you anything."

"We can call the hospital?"

"I've a friend with a ship who can airlift you to Denver," Tor said, "…And you can find her yourself."

Casnar relaxed some, feeling better knowing Tor was there and resourceful as always, and he drew from the other's strength he didn't have….Tor was an Atticus, a myth of a human legend with the ease of natural confidence and poise, and he had always liked him living and helping out in Nualavera…..It was good he'd survived the war.


"Coffee, sir?" Kaidan took the coffee pour into his mug and sat back in his thick seat aboard the London.

He checked the time, issued an order to his crew and the ship began to purr under their feet as massive anti-gravity thrusters started to lift the ship off the airpad above Nederlinds….London was quiet for a frigate and reminded one of the old Normandy, but she was half the size and meant for quiet drops and takeaways.

"How are we on fuel, Ensign?"

"We've four cells left, sir, plenty to make the jump to Grim."

"I'm going to check on our passenger, get us home."

Pushing up off the pads of the arms' rests, he moved left of the control center and the spectacular view of peaks white with snow, and as the London rotated in its heightening ascent, the limbs arced in death of a Reaper's inert form were visible with where the snow did not cling….Kaidan ignored it as he carried his mug with him down the gangway and into a galley, passed the crew quarters into medical, and into the room on the right with its bed's occupant atop it in sedation. She was faintly perspiring from the heat of the room she was held in, and he turned the temperature down a degree with his thumb on a button produced from a console in the bulkhead opposite her feet.

"Sleeping beauty," he whispered, sipped his mug and sat down to watch her…Good memories affecting his mind.


"Where do you want to go," the man looking up at him from the back of the plane—the front rather from his point of boarding, "…We have a storm coming in about an hour, but that depends what direction we're headed if it's going to be a pain."

"Is this safe to fly?"

"Do you need to leave in a hurry?"

"I need to get over to Denver, and sooner rather than later."

"Don't come up in here," the pilot stood and started a low bent hobble towards him, but as he came free of the plane and climbed down, he showed some more comfortable dexterity with his limbs and turned towards Casnar on the landing strip.

"If you're going into Denver, they use shuttles now…The old airport's a shell where they lost most of it from the Great War…I got something out back we can use to land in the city though, something I keep for stuff Tor needs me to do time to time. Watch out, I need that bicycle over there….Make me a little faster for you seeing you're in a rush," and stepping out of the way, Casnar watched the man pull a bike from a waiting stand nearby and set its lock aside, then throw a leg over it—throw would be too much a word since he took some care in the timing and angle of this hitch—he sat in the seat, pushed off the ground, and balanced it in a slow but building pedal towards the house nearest the hangar there in Nederlind's western alley. "So, how long you known Tor for?"

"I'm a little anxious right now," Casnar said, following beside the pedaling pilot, "…You can get me into Denver close to the hospital?"

"I can land you on the roof….But that would piss off the security," the pilot chuckled, tightening and re-gripping his hold on the handlebars, "…But if it's an emergency, they can eat their disgruntlement and you can probably break a few skulls if they haven't any krogan armed up there."

"Denver hires krogans now for security?"

"They do have them…Not for much more than contract labor….Mercenaries with a legal job description," the pilot went on, and they navigated around a ditch, Casnar watching how lightly the man's handle of the bike gears switched to help him move easier over the turf, "…I don't like to brag, but I used to have a couple friends who were krogan…They're not so bad once you get to know them….And they decide not to kill you."

Behind the house was a shed, but it looked more like a few panels of scrap metal leaned over something the size of a van in the grass and set firm into its existence there. It had the old markings of a former Alliance vessel, and Casnar stared from the panel in his grip to the shuttle's window in front and then the man helping himself inside the side door. "Former navy?" he asked.

"You know what you're looking at," the pilot slid the door wide with a scrape and smiled into the dark interior, "…I just need to switch out a few wires and she'll be ready in a jiffy. Look at you," he added softly, placing his hand on the frame and climbing inward, "…Don't worry, baby, Jeff's here to make you fly again."

Leaving his bags on the ground, Casnar looked at the bicycle, the pilot, and taking hold of the awkward vehicle, he wheeled it into the back of the shuttle for the man. "I may need you to show me round Denver, so I think it would be better if this came along," he said to the pilot's glance.

"Okay…" The man resumed his attention on the shuttle's front board of knobs, switches, and buttons…A few tugs and clicks were what went on before a final snap or two and the shuttle hummed to life, lights blinking on and off a few times before holding steady with the purr around them. "There's supposed to be a bag in the back…Can you check and see if it's there?"

Setting his bags down, Casnar made the search and found a canvas with old Alliance markings spraypainted into the fabric, "…There's a body bag here by the size of it," he called up to the front.

"Great…I hate to think someone got in here and took it out, but we don't get to fly too much these days together…Come up front and buckle in—should be rocky."

Casnar looked at the canvas bag and noted a patch across the front, "…In case the skies call again…" He pondered it as he went up to the front and sat down next to the pilot, pulled the harnesses into place over his chest, shoulders, and lap, locked in as the man moved his hands with a rapid ease over the consoles, "…You said we."

The pilot focused on the navigational screens and metrics popping up throughout his windshield, "…I did."

Casnar looked over his shoulder, back towards the long bag on the floor and clipped into the safeties, "…Is there something I shouldn't know?"

"Just an old dust collector," he said, moving the shuttle up and off the ground, "…Don't mind her…She keeps quiet these days, too."

Casnar turned his green eyes towards him, "….Her?"

The shuttle moved forward with a slow building speed, nice and smoothlike, up into the graying sky….Snow coming into the window, the storm was on its way over Nederlinds. "Alright," the pilot said, "…Name's Jeff if you need to go by any name with me….We'll get you to Denver in less than thirty…Keep your hands in your lap, don't touch anything, and let's enjoy the sky." Casnar felt the shuttle shake a little with a gust of wind as they ascended higher over the cloud cover, and a strange need to hold onto his armrests and swallow to pop his ears.

"When was the last time you flew for the Alliance?"

"Back in the Great War…I was a pilot for the Normandy, lost a lot of good friends on that ship….But she and I made it home okay…" Jeff glanced in the rear and resettled himself comfortably in his seat, "….Miss the leather cushioning."

"Normandy….That was Commander Shepard's ship…..You were her pilot."

Jeff smiled in response, "…Yes….Yes, I was."

"She's the one I'm going to find at the hospital," the shuttle banked a little to ease out some vibrations from the rough air they were passing through, "…Braith Shepard….She's at Denver."

"Tor told me you don't like to joke around…." Jeff glanced over at him, "…You mean that?"

"Yes, I'm her mate."

Jeff stared out the window, his lips pressed together between the mustache and beard on his jaw and upper lip, "….That does make sense of her to choose…." He finally glanced over at Casnar, "…How'd you find her?"

"I just saw her step into town one day…I work a mechanical shop in Cherry Lake, by the old crater reservoir….It's dried but anyway, she came there and lived in a house that sat across from it….I just kind of watched over her for a few years and we only came together within a few days….But it's been like a longer term relationship I'd admit….Fourteen years, just over that."

"Few years he says," Jeff checked the rear area again, "…He says few years and it's over fourteen, Edy."

Casnar glanced behind himself as well, "…I take it you have something long term with whoever's in the bag back there?" he asked with some unease.


"There's nothing to worry about," Kaidan tucked her hair back as she started awake and learned of her new conditions.

"Kaidan, where's Casnar?"

"Back in Nederlinds probably…I think he said he was going to leave you to your care since he didn't know what to do…There's something happening in you, Shepard—we're going to figure what it is and see if we can call it out of you once we get to Grim."

She sat up in her johns and looked at him, the gray eyes tired and disturbed, "…He didn't want to come…" She put a hand to her head, feeling a patch of skin bare but for a sticky node and a wire cord extending from it, "…Is there anything else I should know?"

"We'll take care of you…And whatever's been walking around with you inside that body of yours, Shep…I wish you'd just stayed with everyone in London, but this is well…You're going to get the assistance you need and we'll be able to hopefully control your seizures….Report said you were spiking on the charts, so I think it should be mandatory we get you back to the Alliance. Want some coffee? Staff says you can have some caffeine…Tends to help handle these types of big jolts." She accepted the mug and drank somewhat greedily.

"Can I have you send Casnar a message for me somehow?"

"He was pretty upset, Shep," Kaidan replied, "…Maybe wait a few weeks before you try and contact him…I don't think he trusts what he thinks you are….Some type of alien."

"That's sadly ironic," she grunted and turned, giving him her shoulder as she laid back down, "…I'm human and he didn't have a problem with it…Now I'm…What the hell am I?"

"We need to find out….I went back to the house and saw the stuff in your room," he said, Braith turning her cheek to peer at him with one eye, "…You mind filling me in on all that?"