Escape the Fate

by LifeNDeath

A brother and a sister are reunited after 11 years apart. An Alliance soldier soon to be the first human Spectre and a former Alliance soldier turned pirate will have to put their differences aside to haunt down the rouge Spectre Saren. The siblings will go through adventures, romances and heartaches. Twists to the storyline as I see fit! First part of the E.t.F story.

5. Chapter 4: Find the Beacon

Hello all you wonderful Readers out there!

Back with a new chapter. Some new, some old - a little more of Quinn's past is revealed.

Thank you for your reviews, following and faves! So much appreciated! I love it!

Fixed 2022

Hope you like it!

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Escape the Fate

Chapter 4: Find the Beacon

*Quinn's POV

Blinded by the pure hot rage and hatred that burned though every vein, nerve and blood cell throughout her body, Quinn nearly missed the group of geth waiting for her at the cargo train station. She was too focused on catching up to the fucking-murderous-son-of-a-bitch of a turian who had killed Nihlus in cold blood right in front of her, to notice she had almost gotten her head blown off. Although her mind was burning with all the emotional turmoil, her body had reacted and fallen into autopilot as soon as the bullet had been deflected by her kinetic shield. Without even putting a thought into it, her body had walked down the ramp to the train station with the assault rifle in hands and fired at anything that moved. At this point, she would not nor could not distinguish geth from human nor turian. They all were the same in her eyes; – a nuisance, annoyance – something in the way to get to the turian named Saren.

The smaller geth had been killed rather quickly with the use of Nihlus' assault rifle. Still covered in his blood, the blue substance was drying and becoming sticky – giving her a better grip of the weapon. If she had been in her right mind, she had probably been impressed by the variety of upgrades he had provided to the already impressive weapon. He had spared no expense – a new Kinetic Stabilizer and a better Heat Sink, to name a few. But as much as she loved the reduce in kickback, a barrel upgrade wouldn't have hurt. The larger geth had been harder to kill and the barrel upgrade would have stopped it before it had even been able to come charging. If it hadn't been for her kinetic shield, armor and biotic, she would have been dead the second she had stepped a foot upon the platform. How the geth was taken down, she could not remember even if she tried. It was the same with the rest of them. At one point, they stood on the platform, shooting at her and the next they lied dead at her feet. Then she had moved on to slam her fist down on the console to get the freaking train moving.

Once the train finally began to move and there was a quiet moment and nothing to focus her rage on, the turmoil in her head cracked. Knees buckled from the sudden flood of intense emotions, and she had to grab onto the power console to keep herself from falling. Her breaths got heavy and trembling. The throat felt dry and soar. A lump was at the base of it and no matter how much she tried to swallow; it didn't go away. A whimpering sound which she had not heard in an awfully long time escaped her lips and tears threatened to fall down her cheeks. Her chest was aching like someone had been stomping on it for hours on end. Her heart felt like it was squeezed so tightly with aim to crush it. – If this was what grief was like, then she didn't care much of it. It was more painful than anything she had ever felt before because no matter how much she tried to find the source to fix it, there was no physical wound to treat.

Quinn did not understand why she felt this way. She did not love him anymore, nor had she done so for an awfully long time. His death should not have this impact on her. She knew what death was and what it did to people, her included. She had grieved in the past, she had mourned, but it had not felt anything close to this. She had known plenty of people who had died. Them – she had not grieved. Yet, here she was, grieving him. Why was that? Because she had loved him once? Could she even call it that? Was she even capable of love?

Before anymore sobs could escape her mouth, she clenched her jaw shut in a desperate attempt to chock it all down. But the near hyperventilation state she was in did not make it easy. Instead, she cursed at him; "Damn you, Nihlus! Damn you! Why am I crying for you?"

Drops of tears fell on her bent knees and the sound of them hitting against the hard surface of her armor had her eyes shot open and staring at the train's floor. Her head was hanging between her arms which was still holding on to the console and she realized that this was not right. In fact, this was pathetic. Crying for a dead man was one thing but crying for a damned Spectre was not acceptable. Especially not a Spectre who had wanted her locked away for good.

Pushing her damned turmoil of feelings to the furthest part of her brain, she let herself just keep one emotion close to mind as she pushed herself to stand up and that was – fury. She bit down hard on the lower lip and the taste of copper filled her mouth as she promised both herself and Nihlus' memory to find that damned turian who had killed him. Out of respect of whatever feelings had been between the two of them once – she was going to avenge Nihlus. At least she owed him that much after allowing him to be killed right in front of her.

Fueling the anger inside with self-blame only made her more determined. She needed that anger, that hatred to keep her focused on this new objective and not let herself get sidetracked. It may make her reckless, but it also made her more deadly.

The end of the train tracks was nearing, and Saren wasn't far now. She could almost picture it – her fist plunged into his chest, squeezing – then crushing his heart. His death was not going to be quick, that she promised.

The feeling of impatience struck her suddenly. This thing wasn't going fast enough, not with the head start Saren had on her and would get away. Her eyes fell on the enormous ship, which was still planet side, but for how long? He could be loading the Prothean beacon onto the ship right this moment and there was nothing she could do to stop him. A fist slammed down on the control panel in a desperate try to make the damned train go faster, but the speed stayed the same as it was mocking her.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" She shouted.

Patience wasn't her strongest suit, and this was really stretching it to the thinnest. But after a few more minutes, the next station came into view and it was about then, the second train railed past her and headed back to the other station. Her eyes followed the train as it went, and she realized that someone was heading her way and she had her guesses of who it could be. But never mind that, if John and his pyjak-followers was this foolish to follow her, then she would deal with them the same way as the geth and any other obstacle standing in her way.

As she entered the station, she activated the tactical cloak to gain some advantage. The geth was crawling around on this station so she needed as much of that as she could get. But although she was invisible to the eye, the geth was not that easily fooled. The train was still moving, and they figured that shooting at it was the best action. Unfortunately for her, the train had no kinetic defense build into it nor a proper cover to hide behind. The power console would not hide her whole form from the gun shots. Yet it was all there was until the train reached the end of the station. Unfortunately, she had to boost up the kinetic shield in her armor but had to sacrifice the cloak to do so. Once visible, the geth focused their fire solely on her and she returned it as much as was allowed.

The train was about to pass underneath a bridge and it would give her an opportunity to return fire. Taking that advantage to the fullest, she shot with the assault rifle at one of the many geth and managed to shoot it in its' photoreceptor. The flashlight-head exploded with just a few shots at it, revealing it to be their weak spot.

Not that different from the living, Quinn thought. Good to know. At least the quarians did something right when they created these damned things.

The cover of the bridge was short lived, but Quinn kept shooting at the enemy. It took a few more shots to destroy the next geth, but soon it too went down. Two more geth was dropped to the floor once the train had come to a stop at the station. But before then, Quinn had already leaped off the cart and headed up the ramp, only stopping when she reached the first bridge and fell on a knee behind the pillar to reload the assault rifle.

"Fuck those freaking geth!" She cursed as the fresh ammo clip popped into the chamber.

The kinetic shield was dangerously low on energy and desperately needed to recharge. It was warning her, but she was too busy changing the clips and scanning the upper platform for all the geth positions, to hear it. It had been a while since she had fought alone and without any backup. She had no time to calculate the enemy's movements and think of a good strategy. Instead, she was careless and just went with it, hoping her limited tech, armor and defense would hold. Carefully leaning out of the corner once the shooting had come to a pause, she spotted a pair of geth walk past the bridge on the other side, carrying something big and heavy between them. At first, it was hard to make out what it was, but then it hit her – a bomb! Searching her memory, she realized she had seen one just like it when she had jumped out the train cart. The geth was going to destroy the whole spaceport!

How many of these devices they had planted already, was unknown, but the two she had seen was not to be underestimated. She may not be an expert in explosives, but she knew enough to know that with just those two, there would be nothing left standing. Her eyes turned up to the large ship. As long as that ship was still grounded, the port was not going to be blown up. Saren was here for something and would not leave until he got it. That gave her time to catch up to him, kill him and take the beacon. She had no choice but to.

Turning her eyes back on the enemy, as soon as a geth crossed her line of sight, she pressed down on the trigger. These geth needed to be destroyed as quickly as possible or she might as well aim for the explosives herself. She could not allow herself to be pinned down and needed to keep moving. Before the geth even hit the ground, Quinn had made a jump for the fence to her right, staying on this catwalk and heading for the second bridge. Avoiding the fire from across the gap, she kept low and moved along the fences. One geth turned the corner as she got to the second bridge and walked cross it. Another geth further behind with a sniper rifle took to the corner to cover its comrade.

Using the assault rifle to take the crossing geth down, that plan failed as the sniper took a shot. Her head moved out of the way just in time, but her shoulder wasn't as fortunate. The shot penetrated the newly recharged shield and armor and imbedded itself into the bone. A cry of agony escaped her, and she nearly dropped the weapon as she fell back, slamming her back against the half wall. A hand went up to her shoulder and pressed on the wound to stop the bleeding.

"Fuck!" She cursed as she let the other hand search her Omni-tool for the medi-gel application. As soon as her finger pressed down on the hologram button, the medi-gel stored within her armor sent out the gel and located the wound.

Although this was only a temporary fix as the bullet was still inside. But the gel worked its magic to seal the wound shut and remove the pain for now, Quinn picked up the assault rifle lying in her lap where it had landed and slapped it on her back to exchange it to the shotgun. Standing up with one knee on the ground, she boosted up the biotics and let it cover her form. The geth crossing the bridge was nearly at her side now, but it would soon be knocked out of the way. Releasing the charge as soon as she stood up, she flew straight into the geth's center. Breaking the charge then and there, she followed up by blowing up the stomach on the geth. It was about to collapse to the ground and get her into the geth sniper's line of sight– she quickly switched for the assault rifle once more and ducked behind a crate conveniently placed on the bridge.

The first one may have been easy to kill, but the sniper would prove to be the opposite. It was smart enough to take cover after every shot it fired and seemed to calculate the accuracy of her gun to its precise point. It knew that its weapon was much more powerful than any of her own could with just one shot, except for her shotgun of course. But for that, she needed to be up a close and the geth didn't give her he chance. So far, she was lucky it had only been her shoulder that had been hit, but even though the wound had now been fully sealed by the medi-gel, it had yet to heal the flesh beneath and could be reopened if not careful. The gash to her thigh had also been sealed and the discomfort by the wound was now not even noticeable.

How much precious time had she lost trying to deal with this damned geth? She had no idea, but it was frustrating her to the fullest. At least the ship had not moved yet, or at least that was her thought until its engines was fired up and a strong force of wind knocked her over and her head hit the wall hard. Dust and smoke covered the area, making it impossible to get a visual of anything. The wind kept her sitting on her butt, and an arm shot up to protect her eyes. No, was all she could think of. No! Saren could not escape! She had not gotten to him yet! Damn it!

Ignoring her aching head, she stood up in a flash and kept her eyes on the outline of the black dreadnought as it slowly ascended into the sky. Sparks shot out like thunder, penetrating the dust and smoke-filled clouds, hitting the upper parts of the spaceports structure, and making large parts of it fall to the ground. The tremors were felt by her even from this distance and even though she knew there was nothing she could do; she still felt the anger and rage boil inside of her. Damn it, she needed to stop it! Stop Saren from flying off into space! As absurd and illogical it was, it did not register within her now irrational mind. All she could focus on was to kill these geth and get to Saren. How that would happen, didn't exist.

The dust had yet to clear, but she took cover behind the crate once more, one knee on the floor and shot at the light seen through the smoke. The geth seemed to have been affected by the force from the ship as much as she had, but was now too, able to recover. Their standoff resumed and no matter how angry and irrational she was at the moment, her brain didn't allow her to be reckless and charge at the geth uncontrollably. The ship took off and time passed as their shooting continued. Only when she was running low on clips, was she able to break away from her rage filled mind and take in her surroundings. A curse escaped her when she thought of what was beyond this platform and what to expect on the other side of that far off wall. Her mind had still not realized the ship was far gone and possibly Saren as well. The only thought on her mind was to get past the geth and catch that turian.

Thinking on how to deal with the situation she was in, she realized her biotic was of no use as the geth retreated behind cover and the wall it hid behind would not be easily penetrated. All she could hope for was for the geth sniper to get careless and keep its head in the open long enough for her to get a shot in. Leaning out of the cover once the sniper had fired its shot, she had to retreat just as quickly as two more shots was fired. Fuck! Two more snipers had joined the party. Growing more and more frustrated, she clenched her teeth together as she tried to figure out what to do next.

Like as a gift from above, the sound of an incoming train cart came to her rescue. The geth turned their attentions to the tracks beneath and Quinn quickly used that to her advantage. Although it was not a sniper she had managed to kill, at least it was one less geth to deal with.

"Demolition charges!" A voice called out as soon as the train cart came to a stop. "The Geth must have planted them."

"Hurry – we need to find them all and shut them down." An unexpected female voice called out over the sounds of gunshots.

Curiosity took a hold of her, and Quinn took a chance to peek over the fence and down to the newly arrivals down below who by now had stepped on the platform. Two of the three, she knew – John and the Pretty-Boy, – the girl was a surprise, though. Where did the over-excited kid go? Did they trade him off for the girl? Maybe he was lying dead somewhere. There was no way her goody two shoes of a brother would leave anyone behind if not otherwise. Whatever, it was irrelevant.

John and the other two had stopped at the base of the ramp where Pretty-Boy disappeared behind the wall where the bomb was, probably to disarm it. Good, at least then she didn't have to think of the bombs if he succeeded. John and the girl kept behind cover to return the fire the geth was firing at them. Although most of them wasn't a killing shot, they actually managed to immobilize some of them.

"Done," Pretty-Boy shouted after a few seconds proclaiming he was done disarming the bomb.

Once the bomb had been rendered harmless, the trio slowly made their way up the ramp. It was a slow progress, but thorough. Yet if they kept that pace, the whole place would be blown up before they could get to the bridge. Two of the trio had both sniper rifles and one geth after another was taken down as they made their slow progress forward.

With most of the geth now occupied with this new threat, Quinn needed to take down the sniper who was still pinning her down. Time was running out and she had to get to Saren and the beacon before these three pyjaks did. She couldn't waste any more time on these geth and there was only one way to get out of here. Summoning the dark energy, she pushed at the implant in her head to get enough power as needed. The charge would take most of the energy boosted, but it would also be enough to give her some defense too if she broke it just at the right time. With a push of her hand, she had risen on her feet and then released the powerful charge of dark energy which had her cross the distance between her and the geth sniper with unbelievable speed. From years of practice, she knew instantly when to maneuver her clenched fist forward to deliver a powerful punch that knocked even the heaviest krogan off their feet. But where a krogan would lose its footing, a geth who weighed much, much less – was thrown with a heavy force into the wall, crushing whatever part that took the impact. Various pieces broke off the geth and it fell to the ground. If it had been organic, that impact had killed it instantly. But this thing was made of synthetics. A machine. They did not feel pain.

Walking up to the broken machine which was trying to get its hand on its weapon, Quinn looked down on it with despise. One slam with her biotic covered fist and the living machine was destroyed.

"What the hell was that?" The female voice shouted from the other side of the gap.

She turned a cold eye to the Alliance squad who had reached the first bridge on the other catwalk. Her eyes met with her brother's.

"Quinn, stop!" John shouted with a warning growl she knew very well which had once stopped her dead in her tracks. "Stop right there!"

Her eyes narrowed into a hateful stare as memories of abandonment crossed her mind. Did he really think he could order her around like she was still his property? A kid? He was delusional if he thought he still had authority over her, even more so if he thought she would listen. Her vision grew redder by the second. Eleven years had passed since he had betrayed her, why would she listen to him now?

Turning away from him, she pulled out the shotgun and aimed it to her left, then pulled the trigger as a geth was about to surprise her and it fell to the ground in a heap. Then she took off running down the catwalk and the corner where she had seen a couple of geth disappear to. The last of the geth she would leave for John to deal with.

"Quinn!" He called after her.

So far, Saren was nowhere to be found. The rational part of her brain knew she would not find him on this planet, but that part of her brain was not in charge for the moment. Still her eyes searched that of a turian. The shotgun was poised and ready in her hands to shoot at anything that crossed her line of sight as she walked down the catwalk to this new area. Her footsteps were purposely heavy to drive whatever was hiding on this platform into view. As she neared the end and about to step a foot on the floor, she heard the noise of two geth behind the large crates and boxes scattered around the area. Not only that but more of those spikes was also there and was releasing two husks which came charging at her once they had been released.

The first husk came charging with its arms stretched out in front of it and the hands was grasping the air, just waiting to get something solid to grab a hold on. She let it come at her, her eyes lingering on those eyes that was no longer human. Once it had gotten into her shotgun's shooting range, she pulled the trigger. The spray of the shotgun hit it in the torso and the force had it fall on its back. Yet that had not killed it. As the husk rose to its feet, the second one came at her from the right. Recharging with a quick hand motion, she took aim once more and pulled the trigger, yet no shot was fired. The clip was empty. Her eyes shot up to the charging husk in panic, as her hands quickly dropped the gun on the floor and went for the hoister on her hip where she stored her pistol. With a quick draw she had it aimed and with a quick rap on the trigger had the husk killed with bullet holes to the head.

The two geth moved between the crates and fired at her. Now with only a pistol left, she had to be smart about her shots. Returning fire only when she was sure it would hit. Quinn retreated behind some crates herself and pushed her back up along one. Once out of the line of their aim, she turned her attention to the remaining husk once more. A quick look at the pistol in her hand, she figured there was only a few more shots and then she would be out of clips completely, yet the pistol was her best option to take out the husk and she didn't hesitate to fire. Although some of the bullets hit its mark, the husk was not killed by them and had now learned to move unpredictably so to not get shot again. Her shots had been in vain, and her pistol was put down in its hoister by her hip. Weaponless now, all she had to work with was her biotic. Not that that was a disadvantage. For an average biotic maybe, but she was better than average. Her biotic skills were extraordinary, powerful – deadly.

Summoning the dark energy by will, it formed around her fists and forearms and as the husk was close enough, she threw it with the powerful energy and sent it flying before it could use its own electrical pulse at her. The husk flew into one of the crates with a force which should have broken its back, and then she used the dark energy still surrounding the husk's form and pulled the biotic force up into the sky as high as she could manage. It was a move which she had not practiced for quite some time and felt a bit rusty and the result of that wasn't as she quite had expected. Yet, it had done its job. The husk fell from the sky and landed on its head. She did not miss the sound of the neck snapping, bones breaking and the splashing of the blood. A very satisfying sight.

Now, there was only the two geth left.

Both geth were getting closer, moving behind the crates to keep themselves behind cover, but aimed their shots at her whenever they got the chance. Fortunately, her kinetic shield repelled the shots, and she used her biotics to throw the husks corpses at the synthetic machines, knocking them both to the ground. One of them lost its grip on its assault rifle and Quinn sprinted towards it to claim it. When the geth was about to pick it up, she punched her fist into its face and quickly grabbed the gun before turning the barrel at its photoreceptor and pulling the trigger. Then turning to the last geth and doing the same.

Standing over the two geth, her tense gaze wandered to the destroyed landscape beyond the spaceport. The fire was still spreading throughout the ground where the massive ship had stood. In the center was a deep and pitch-black crater, created from the massive engines. Her eyes followed the smoke up to the sky and the hole in the sky which had been created by the ships' ascent and Saran's escape.

Her body stiffened, the teeth clenched, and her hands folded into tight fists. She had been too late. The ship was gone and so was Nihlus' killer. One more had escaped her clutches. One more failure. How could she allow this to happen?! She was Quinn-freaking-Shepard! A fearsome pirate warlord who killed anyone who crossed her! Who got in her way! Who took what was hers! Who inspired fear and respect into the lowlife scums of the galaxy! She was the killer – the hunter! And now her pray was beyond her reach…

For a moment, she didn't know what to do, what to feel. All she knew was this was entirely unacceptable. But then the anger began to boil once more. Her fists clenched tighter together, the material in her gloves gave away a soft cracking sound and she could almost feel her nails digging into the skin underneath. The dark force responded to her wrath building up within her and spread over her form, flaring up violently and uncontrollably. Baktan may have stabbed her in the back, and it had infuriated her, but it was nothing compared to the pure red hot, blinding rage she felt towards Saren. The hatred, the fury, and the grief he had fired up within her for having Nihlus die to save her was beyond her comprehension. He had rid her of something that belonged to her, and he was going to pay. There would be nowhere in this whole universe where he could hide where she would not be able to find him, that was a promise.

Reaching its peak, the rage had nowhere to go but out. All emotions were in turmoil, but rage was the purest one, the most significant. There was nothing to use as an outlet so all she could do, was let out a strong, loud, and agonizing scream of defeat. As her lungs was about to run out of air, she collapsed to the ground, smashing her biotic-covered fists onto the floor. The corpses of the geth were crushed to pieces, the heavy crates were pushed and turned over, the smaller ones tossed and sent flying, the floor around her cracked and bent to a small crater, formed by the force of it. But one punch was not enough to let extinguish the ever-growing wrath. The whole platform protested loudly as the floor caved by each hit. The crater grew bigger and bigger, the floor breaking and cracking and collapsing–

"Quinn, stop it!"

"Drop your weapons and raise your hands!"

The voices barley penetrated the rage-stricken mind she was in, but still enough for Quinn to cast an eye up to these new foolish targets of her rage. Her breathing may be heavy, her shoulders ached, and her hands hurt, but that could easily be pushed aside to redirect her attacks to something more living, more breakable, and destroyable. At the edge of the crater she had created, stood three-armed people, aiming their guns at her. Her predatory eyes went from one to the other until it dawned on her that they had her surrounded yet keeping their distance. They seemed unsure how to proceed. Neither of them seemed confident to approach her and instead seemed to hope she would be the one to come to them.

Underneath her rage filled mind, she knew that attacking them would result in her taking more damage than she could deliver, yet she was very tempted to try. The need to feel something living crush within her hands was strong but was it worth it? They spoke to her again now more threatening, more demanding. But it was merely white noise to her. As long as they didn't try anything, they would remain living for the moment. She needed to think, to get a clear head. To find a solution to her problems.

Quinn turned her attention away from them and instead spotted the glowing object standing tall just a few meters in front of her. This object was penetrating the fog and curiosity took a hold. Captivated by the light, she slowly rose up to her feet. Barley hearing the voices behind her who threatened and gave warnings, she stepped out of the crater and neared the object. The plain and simple, yet complex structure was not of human design. This had to be the Prothean beacon.

This did not make any sense. What was it still doing here? Why leave it behind? Was it broken? Or maybe it wasn't as significant as everybody thought. Looking at the object, Quinn could not see what the fuzz was all about. This thing was worth 750,000 credits? It looked more like a pillar or a strange statue than something that could change the galaxy. The curiosity was extinguished in a matter of seconds. Everything that had happened was because of this piece of crap? Why?! What was the point of it all? She did not see it, nor understand it. But what she did understand was that if she could not take the wrath out on Saren, then this thing would serve as a replacement until she could get her hands on him. To hell with the credits she was promised. This thing wasn't worth the money. It needed to be destroyed. Be in pieces.

Once more clouded with rage, the biotic covered her form unintentionally as her fists clenched together. About to take a step towards it, a clicking noise close to her head stopped her in her tracks and her attention was drawn to the harsh voice speaking right next to her.

"I'm warning you, Quinn, withdraw your biotic, remove your weapons and step away from the beacon. Now!" The last part was spoken with a loud bark.

However, that voice held no authority over her nor the right to stop her from destroying the source of all her rage. Ignoring her brother, she took another step towards the beacon.

"I'm not going to tell you again!" He barked again. "Don't – force me – to shot – you!"

"I have a clear shot," the voice of the female spoke loud enough for her to hear.

Breaking out of the trance, Quinn turned her head to John and stared straight into his blue eyes without nothing but hatred towards him. If he wanted her to stop, then he would have to damn well pull the trigger and kill her. That was exactly what her eyes was telling him. As long as she lived, nothing would stop her from killing Saren.

"I will – pull the trigger. Sister or not," he spoke more forceful, but underneath there was a plead for her to listen. Coward.

Her eyes narrowed. "Fuck. You!" She spat through clench teeth before turning to the beacon and charged at it.

However, she did not get far before an unexpected force had her stop dead in her tracks. Not being able to move, had her both taken and shocked, but her instinct was to fight against the unseen force. But as much as she struggled, there was nothing she could do. Her body did not move an inch. Only able to move her eyes, she searched for the source of it all. But once her eyes landed upon the Prothean construction, the force intensified, and her body was lifted into the air. As soon as her feet left the ground, her whole body turned rigid. Every nerve, vein and muscle felt like corrosive acid was eating its way through. The air in her lungs turned into ice, chocking the breath right out of her. Every other organ was on fire, burning and blazing hot like magma had erupted inside. But the most significant, was the damage to her brain. Even though her eyes were wide open, she did not see the sky before her. Instead, obscure visions and images of bizarre creatures, flesh, blood, and death penetrated her mind and fried themselves into her brain. Each vision burned deeper, leaving their scar. Taking a permanent place inside the psyche to form a memory that was not her own. Threatening to shatter her mind, her sanity into million pieces.

A foul, rotting and burning smell entered her nose and it would haunt her forever. It reminded her of death or worse. Feeling nauseous, her rigid body would not allow her to vomit.

"No don't touch her!" The female voice managed to penetrate the agonizing ringing in her ear. "It's too dangerous!"

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*John's POV

An image of something he had never laid his eyes on before had somehow been carved into his mind's eye. There were no words he knew that could even remotely describe what the image portrayed. All he knew was it frightened him beyond anything imaginable. His instincts told him to run, to hide. That pain, slaughter and death awaited him if not. It did not make any sense, yet somehow it did. It was confusing yet so clear. The image repeatedly appeared inside his mind without stop, leaving no room for any other thought nor existence. Each time it appeared it was threatening to drive him mad. It felt like his head was going to be split in half if it carved even deeper. If it weren't for the pain alone, he would have thought he was dead and in hell.

Suddenly, the image disappeared, and he was left floating in darkness. The agonizing pain was still there, but it seemed to lessen some as the image had vanished. Slowly, he was beginning to get the feeling of his body back. Sound and smell were returning, his awareness of his surroundings which left him believe he was slowly waking up from the state he was in. The problem was, he had no memory of ever going to sleep. Yet consciousness was taking a hold and pulling him away from the darkness.

His eyelids felt heavy, almost too heavy to open but his brain would not let him go back to sleep and the nightmare which was threatening to take a hold. Fighting against the darkness, he slowly opened his blue eyes. The light hit his eyes with a sting, blinding him. It took a few tries to finally get them to stay open, and at first the colors didn't want to place themselves correctly to make out any form or outline. It was like he was drunk and the world around him was spinning. It didn't help much with his already queasy stomach. Nausea took a hold and was threatening to come up. The ringing in his ears was at least familiar, unpleasant, but familiar. But he had no recollection of being close to an explosion recently, so why the ringing? Still his body aced like it had been caught in a blast and thrown against a stone wall. Fear struck him when he realized he had a hard time moving his limbs. Had he been hit by a grenade?

All symptoms indicated it. About to panic, the sound of a woman's voice had him interrupted. Although sounding distressed, he could still make out some of the words spoken to him through the ringing.

"–on't worry, Comman–er. –Normandy's – way."

His eyes searched for the source of the voice and a black shadow entered his line of vision. It took a moment to place the colors, but soon they let him see the outline of a woman's face underneath a helmet. Soon, that said helmet was removed and he could see the brown eyes staring back at him which was framed with dark hair which had loosened from the hair tie. At first, he did not recognize this woman, but then it hit him that he actually knew her name, although he could not place it.

Minutes went by and yet he could not sort out the name in his confused mind. Instead, he needed to find answers to what had happened to him. Slowly John turned his head away from the woman to get a look at his surroundings. But the slightest movement sent waves of stabbing pain throughout his entire body and the nauseous grew stronger. With one dry gulp of air, he tried to force the stinging regurgitation back down. Turning his head fully to the side, he glanced at the sparkling objects lying scattered on the ground. This object was important, his mind told him but not why it was. Then his eyes fell on a blurry form a few feet away. It took him a few seconds to make out what he was looking at, but soon he realized it was another human. Alenko. He was hovering over something, but the dark-haired woman's form – Williams! – was concealing it.

"Wha– what happnd?" He managed to slur out, but was surprised by the difficulty to speak, and the hoarseness in his tone. Desperately trying to ignore the aching in his limbs, he tried to push himself up into a sitting position to find out what was going on.

Gently, Williams, pushed him back down as she said; "Don't move."

Still confused, he complied after he realized he had no strength to resist her gentle push. Instead of fighting her on it, he let himself try to sort out the latest events in his head. He remembered being on the Normandy, talking to captain Anderson. A Spectre was there. Turian. Nihlus. He was dead. Killed by a... Jenkins got ambushed. Williams, Williams – chased by the geth. Geth! They were there. Shooting. Killing. The beacon!

His eyes grew wide as he remembered what had happened and he shot up on an elbow and stared at Williams with questioning eyes, ignoring the spinning, and throbbing to his head from the sudden movement.

"The beacon exploded, and you were caught in the blast," she explained before he even had the chance to ask the question.

"Destroyed?" He asked and settled down on both elbows to keep him somewhat upright. The intense headache made it hard to register what was being said, so he needed it to be clarified. "How?"

At first, it seemed like Williams was hesitating. The woman threw a glance over her shoulder to where Alenko sat as she began. "The prisoner – em, Quinn, was it?" There was a slight pause before she continued and turned her head towards him again. "She must have triggered some kind of security field when she approached it. You tried to pull her down and was caught in it too. Then it suddenly self-destructed."

His eyes fell to his chest as he tried to remember. Broken pieces came into his line of sight. They were still illuminating but had sparks flare up and died in the air. Following the trail of broken off pieces with his eyes, the once tall Prothean structure had broken in half. Smoke came from the still standing piece, but more angry flares erupted from it than the smaller ones.

"Damn it," he muttered and pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring the protests and complains of his head and body.

Williams put a hand on his shoulder to stabilize him as his upper body was about to fall over. A grateful "thank you" managed to escape his lips before he got lost in his thoughts once more. Closing his eyes, he tried to pinpoint where everything had gone so wrong. They had followed orders and kept radio silence. Jenkins unfortunately got caught in an ambush and was killed. Then they had encountered Williams, along with a geth squad. Why were they outside the Veil? Was a question he had thought then. Then Williams had taken them to the dig site, but the beacon had been moved. Humans had been turned into husks and had attacked. They had helped a doctor and her assistant. –They were supposed to find the beacon, not engage in a rescue mission–. But it was only then they knew where to go. Then they found Nihlus body, killed, allegedly, by another turian called Saren. Quinn had been there and witnessed it all. She had escaped from the Normandy somehow. He remembered that part. The rest after that point... was still fuzzy. They had found the beacon and Quinn. But how he had ended up lying on his back did not clarify.

Why was the geth working with a turian? Who was this Saren anyway? After all this, what would it mean for the Alliance and for his Spectre candidacy? All of this was such a mess. So many people had died. He couldn't help but feel like so much had gone amiss ever since Quinn had walked back into his life. But was he right to blame her or was it just the coincidence he did not believe in? All of this was going to fall over someone's head, and something told him it was going to be on him.

Suddenly the image of death and fear invaded his thoughts like a flash of a lightning striking him down. His eyes shot open in a desperate attempt to escape the horrible picture, yet his eyes did not see the scenery in front of him. A hand was placed on his shoulder, possibly to keep him from falling back down as the nausea was returning in full force. He turned to the side just in time as he was about to retch the content in his stomach.

What felt like minutes passed by in silence. Only his coughing and spitting was the only sound that he heard. Even with the eyes open, he could not fully escape the image burned into his mind. It was there constantly and persistently trying to make itself known – warning him to see and heed it.

"Are you okay?" Williams asked once he had somewhat recovered, but the pounding in his head made him unsure he had heard right.

Only when the familiar sound of engines, did John manage to break away from the image haunting his brain. He turned his attention up to the sky and looked at the nearing ship – the Normandy. The air around them got windy as the ship came closer. Williams came into his line of sight and spoke something he could not hear. Whether it was drowned out in the noise, or lost because the thumping in his head, he wasn't sure. Only when she began to pull and thug at his arms, did he understand what she had said. With his body a bit more compliant than before did he manage to stand up with the help of Williams. Although it had not been without some difficulty – his head was spinning and throbbing more violently than before, and it was affecting his stomach once more. Leaning to the side and away from Williams, the content of his stomach ejected from his mouth. He didn't think he had anything left from last time, yet he was proven wrong. Once there was nothing more to throw up, he spit a few times to get rid of the bitter and sour taste in his mouth.

With a few deep breathes and he was ready to proceed. With the little strength he had regained, he tried his best to support himself, still Williams took his arm over her shoulder and carried most of his weight as they stumbled upon the lowered cargo hatch.

To his left, John saw Alenko carrying a limp body in his arms. It took a moment for him to realize who it was. Quinn! Immediately worry struck him as he saw the state his sister was in. The effect the bacon had stored upon him was all but excruciating and from what he had been told, it had merely grazed him. His sister on the other hand had taken its full force and he didn't dare to think of the damage it had done to her. A memory of her being carried in the same fashion, yet much younger, flashed through his mind and a feeling of fear and dread followed.

With his eyes following her, he asked with a raspy tone which most likely was revealing the fears he felt; "Is she alive?"

Alenko turned his head towards John's direction with a surprised expression on his face before he looked down at the pirate he carried and then back at John once more with an expression of sympathy. "Barley."

To them, it must seem strange for him to feel fear for someone who wanted him dead and for someone who was a cold-blooded murderer. A part of him thought it strange too, but she was still his sister. He loved her despite what she had done, yet that did not change his feelings of her facing justice.

Captain Anderson and Doctor Chakwas came up to them in a hurry which drew John's attention away from the unconscious pirate as they had stepped into the cargo hold.

"Commander," Anderson greeted with a slight urgency, yet some relief in his tone.

"Captain," he greeted back while trying to force a strong and together tone.

Doctor Chakwas stepped into his personal space immediately with her Omni-tool out to scan his vitals and register his injuries. Without realizing it, he immediately straightened up and tried to take his footing on his own, but his attempt failed, and he swayed. If it weren't for Williams, he would be on the floor right now.

"Take them to the med-bay immediately," the doctor ordered firmly and then turned to guide the Staff Lieutenant to the waiting elevator with Quinn still in his arms.

When Williams was about to do the same with John, he took a firm stand and resisted her. "No. I'm fine," he said and removed his arm from her shoulders. Although he swayed a little as his body took his full weight, he remained standing.

Doctor Chakwas returned soon after, about to protest, but a quick glance at her had her think better of it. He needed to brief the captain and do it soon as it was still fresh in his mind. It still felt like he was going to go insane from the throbbing pain in his head, but more so from the image permanent imbedded within his mind. This needed to be done before the pain would have him lose consciousness again, so he needed to do this before that. Chakwas brought out her Omni-tool with a heavy sigh and had the hologram tool to scan him more thoroughly this time.

"How's our XO holding up, Doctor?" Anderson asked and turned to the good doctor.

John was about to repeat himself, when Chakwas finished scanning him and beat him to it. "All the readings look normal. I'd say the commander's going to be fine." After closing the tool, she turned to him with a stern look and a bit of a bite to her gentle tone. "But I recommend some sleep. Judging by the way you keep rubbing your temple, you seem to have a migraine."

"Glad to hear it," Anderson said with relief.

He hadn't even noticed the hand he held up to his head, and quickly dropped it back down to the side of his body a bit embarrassed.

Chakwas strict face turn to a warm smile when he gave her an affirmative nod. "I will see you in the med-bay shortly," she said with her motherly tone before walking off to the waiting elevator and her other patient.

A small grin grew on his lips as John watched her go. Nothing seemed to get past the kind woman, he thought.

"Shepard, I need to speak with you – in private."

John turned his attention to the captain at the severity in his tone.

"Aye, aye, Captain," Williams said and pulled a salute. Then she turned slightly to John as she said; "I'll be in the mess if you need me," before heading off to the elevator which had just left the floor.

Still not feeling like there was not enough privacy, Anderson walked over to the Mako as the hull was closing its door for takeoff. John followed the captain and leaned his back against the vehicle for support. His legs were thankful for the small relief of weight and the cool metal against the back of his head was welcoming. The throbbing headache didn't feel as painful if the cool surface touched his skin.

"Looks like that beacon hit you pretty hard, Commander. You sure you're okay?" The Captain asked concerned.

John opened his eyes. "Nah, I'm fine," he tried to assure but knew he was fooling no one least not captain Anderson. However, the physical pain he could live with, it was only a small price to pay compared to what others had suffered. He was sure he would be fine after some rest, but nothing would bring back the lives lost related to this mission. Physically, he was fine, or would be, but mentally – he could not say he was fine with what had happened. "I just don't like soldiers dying under my command."

The Captain gave him a knowing nod in acknowledgement. A moment later, he said; "Tell me what happened."

He took a deep breath, before releasing it in a long and heavy sigh. He knew he had to give the captain his full report and he had wanted to do it right away, yet now he felt like he couldn't really do it. He didn't know what to say or where to start. His head was getting heavier by the minute and exhaustion was taking a hold. But he had to. The Captain had given him an order and he needed to carry it out as the good soldier he was. Pushing his fatigue aside, he gave Anderson the full report. From the second they had stepped a foot on the planet. The first debriefing from Nihlus and his obvious unawareness of his pursuer. How he had signal Jenkins to move up and was caught and killed in an ambush by a swarm of Geth drones. When they meet and helped Ashley Williams fighting off geth and how she had offered to take them to the dig site, only to find out that the beacon had been moved. About the geth and the colonists who had been turned into husks. The dockworker that had witness Nihlus' murder by another turian called Saren. To Quinn's part in it all and that she had triggered the beacon and he had tried to pull her away from it, although the last part he still didn't remember.

"Intel dropped the ball, sir. We had no idea what we were walking into down there," he finished off with frustration clouding his tone. Although it was only a drop of the ocean of what he truly felt.

Anderson got a thoughtful look about him as a hand went up to his chin. "The Geth haven't been outside the Veil in two centuries, Commander." Removing his hand, he looked John straight in the eye. "Nobody could have predicted this. Jenkins wasn't your fault. You did a good job, Shepard," he tried to reassure and placed a hand on his shoulder.

All John could do was nod to acknowledge what had been said, but he did not agree. His eyes fell to the floor as shame and guilt entered his mind. He could have done more. Should have done more. All of this could have been prevented.

"But I won't lie to you, Shepard." John shot his eyes up to the captain, who now had a grim expression on his face. "Things look bad. Nihlus is dead. A dangerous pirate onboard, who escaped. The beacon was destroyed and Geth are invading." The frustration in his tone couldn't be mistaken. "The Council's going to want answers."

Looking directly into Anderson's eyes, he said with a straightforward tone, "I did everything I could down there. I didn't do anything wrong, Captain. Hopefully, the Council can see that."

Anderson kept his stare on John for a moment longer, jumping his sight between his eyes as he was reading him before the Captain turned to the side and began to pace back and forth. "I'll stand behind you and your report, Shepard," he said as he came to a stop just by the nose of the Mako. "You're a damned hero in my books." He turned slightly to John. "But that's not why I'm here. It's Saren, the other turian." He turned his head straight again as he looked out into the space of the cargo hold, his tone grim. "Saren's a Spectre, one of the best. A living legend." Facing John fully once more, he continued. "But if he's working with the Geth, it means he's gone rogue. A rogue Spectre's trouble. Saren's dangerous. And he hates humans."

Seeing the severity in what the Captain had just told him, he still did not fully understand. "Why?"

"He thinks we're growing too fast, taking over the galaxy. A lot of aliens think that way. Most of them don't do anything about it." A sympathetic expression crossed him at the last part but grew a little hard again as he continued with his eyes towards the floor; "But Saren has allied himself with the Geth. I don't know how. I don' know why. I only know it had something to do with that beacon." There was a slight pause from the Captain before his eyes shot up to John, his tone revealing he was hoping for some answers. "You were there just before the beacon self-destructed. Did you see anything? Any clue that might tell us what Saren was after?"

Suddenly the image flashed before his eyes, like it was responding to a call. The abruptness of it almost had him fall from his feet and the headache flared up to full force, feeling like his head was being split open. Anderson caught him before he fell and helped him stabilize himself back on his feet.

"You're not fine, Commander," Anderson stated with both worry and scold. "You should head up to the med bay and lie down."

Leaning back against the vehicle, he let his hand rest on his forehead and rubbed both sides of his temple with his thumb and middle finger, ignoring what the Captain had said. "Just before I lost consciousness, I saw some kind of image."

"An image?" The Captain asked clearly surprised by the strange declaration and grew a bit skeptical in his tone as he asked; "An image of what?"

Still feeling the nausea, it seemed like the headache was slowly subsiding, much to his relief. The image was still as crystal clear as when it had burned itself into his mind. He was quite confident he could draw it down on a paper and not miss a single detail of the original. That was, if he could draw, which he could not. Describing it with words would be hard enough as he thought nothing he could say would give it justice. Not to mention that just talking about it would have people think that he had gone mad! He knew how bizarre it all seemed and if it had not happened to him, he would have demanded that this person would be locked up!

But it had happened to him and now he needed to explain it. Unsure how he should go about it, he just took the first thing that came to his mind and said it; "I can't really tell. I just saw it for a split second. It's there but it doesn't make any sense. An image of a Geth maybe? A creature? I don't know." He shook his head.

Crossing the arms over his chest, Anderson looked at him with a face full of doubt. "That is not much to go on. But we need to report this to the Council, Shepard."

His face shot up to his captain in shock, but quickly grew disturbed as he questioned his motives. "What are we going to tell them? –I had image of an enemy pop up in my head right after I killed a bunch of them?"

The Council would think they were joking or possible even insane if they tried to report this to the Council. And frankly, he wouldn't blame them. They would not even take it into consideration and why should they? Humanity would be mocked and ridiculed if this were used as evidence against one of the Council's respectable agents. They would never take the humans seriously again!

"We don't know what information was stored in that beacon," Anderson said, defending this insane idea. "Lost Prothean technology? Blueprints for some ancient weapon of mass destruction? Whatever it was, Saren took it." His tone turned blunt, and the Captain began to phase once more and spoke like he was thinking out loud. "But I know Saren. I know his reputation, his politics. He believes humans are a blight on the galaxy. This attack was an act of war! He has the secret from the beacon. He has an army of Geth at his command. And he won't stop until he's wiped humanity from the face of the galaxy!"

"We have no real evidence to go on. No proof. The Council won't listen until we do," John argued, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the captain phase.

Anderson stopped and turned to John; his tone grave. "It's not that easy. He's a Spectre. He can go anywhere, do almost anything. That's why we need the Council on our side."

Raising a brow, he looked at his captain quite skeptical. "And how do you suggest we do that?"

"We prove Saren's gone rogue, and the Council will revoke his Spectre status. We have that dockworker you mention as a witness. From what you told me; Quinn was there too when Saren killed Nihlus." A thoughtful look crossed Anderson's face and he grew quiet for a moment, still thinking as he spoke, he asked; "You said you got the image when you tried to pull her away from the beacon, right?" John answered with a nod. "Maybe Quinn got more."

"You want to take Quinn to the Council?" He asked, his tone full of skepticism and doubt, which quickly turned bitter. "She's a criminal. A pirate. Do you really think the Council would believe a known killer witnessed a famous Spectre kill another Spectre? It already sounds absurd to me, what would they think?"

"If it's the truth, then we have to try. Saren can't get away with this. I'll talk to her once she wakes up," Anderson said with a certainty, before he turned and about to head for the elevator, but stopped as John asked;

"Why would she even help us at all?" Anderson turned back and met his angry stare. John didn't like the idea of having his sister involved. Even if she did tell them what she had seen, they could not trust her. It wasn't like Quinn would help them by the goodness of her heart either. He doubted there even was any good left. She would most definitely demand something in return because that was how every criminal worked and no doubt that would be her freedom.

"I may be able to persuade her," Anderson reassured. Sounding a little bit too confident, for John not to feel suspicious. "Don't worry, Commander, I will make her listen. I'll also contact the ambassador and see if he can get us an audience with the Council. He'll want to see us as soon as we reach the Citadel."

"If you do that, then I'll find some way to take Saren down," John said, meeting the Captain in the middle. If the Captain believed he would be able to persuade his hard-headed sister, then he would just have to put his trust in him. Although he was still doubtful and could not see a reason why Quinn should help them.

Pushing himself off the Mako, John took a few steps after the Captain towards the elevator when he saw Ashley Williams step on it. Even from back here, he could see the frustration on the soldier's face. The Normandy's only flaw, the slow elevator and everyone was going to be affected by it.

"Chief Williams isn't part of the Normandy crew–" John stated and when he was about to continue, the Captain cut him off.

"I'm figuring we can use a soldier like her." Anderson said as he too, turned to look at the soldier. "I'll have her reassigned to the Normandy, if she accepts."

With an agreeable nod, he said; "Williams is a good soldier. She deserves it." And he meant every word of it.

Turning back to John, Anderson tapped him on the shoulder as he said; "You should get some sleep, Shepard. You're going to need it." Then the two headed for the elevator.

---

**Quinn's POV

The constant ringing – intense screaming – agonizing cries… The putrid and rancid stench of burning, sizzling flesh melting from bones – inferno running rapidly through every nerve, vein, and cell, stinging and dry – blood freezing solid – organs failing, shutting down, turned inside out. Deprived of oxygen, throat gasping, lungs burning – muscles spasm, going rigid, stiff, then limp – All in an endless cycle and there was nowhere to escape. At last, it was leaving her senses and she welcomed the silence. The darkness. The nothing. The heat from burning flesh did no longer enter her nose. The eyes did no longer see the horrifying damage and unimaginable destruction done to the unknown. The excruciating, deafening noises inside the mind grew silent. Leaving deafness. The inferno running through every nerve, vein and muscle extinguished in a flash. Leaving nothing but tranquil oblivion.

Peace.

Quiet.

Emptiness.

An eternity.

Was this death?

As the thought penetrated the darkness, an agonizing feeling of aching muscles and fatigue followed. Instead of the peaceful quiet – soft whispers broke through the dark like they were scratching into her ears. Instead of her body screaming in pain, it screamed of exhaustion. Weakness. Ache. Alive. Feeling heavy and cloudy, her mind struggled between waking up and falling back into the blissful nothing. Both offering a promise – different, yet quite the same. Choosing darkness threatened with returning her to the painful, agonizing and mind-breaking existence branded into her mind. Choosing consciousness would leave her weak, vulnerable, aching.

"Hey, I think she's waking up," a male voice spoke, breaking thought the heavy fog clouding her mind.

She did not recognize the voice and immediately her mind went on the defensive, which snapped her eyes opened, ignoring the blinding light and instinctively threw herself at the voice's direction with the intension of crushing said voices' windpipe. –Instead, her arms didn't move further than a few inches from her side, keeping her lower body where it was and the upper body about to fall over. The wind had been knocked out of her from the sudden pull on her arms and her mind had no time to register what had happened before two pair of hands grabbed a hold of her shoulders. As soon as the hands was place upon her skin, it burned from the touch. She was pulled back down. The unexpected movement had the nausea return in full force, preventing her from screaming out of pain. Her eyes closed in a desperate attempt to rid herself of the torment her body was experience. But there was no stopping the little content she had in her stomach as it began to heave uncontrollably. One set of hands returned, one on her shoulder and the other on the back, both leaving her skin aflame as her upper body was lifted upright once more and something was placed in her lap as she threw up.

For how long she sat there and heaved, she had no clue. But once there was nothing more than dry, empty heaves left the thing in her lap was removed. Guided gently to lie back down, Quinn tried to focus on taking deep breaths so to not flare up the dizziness once more. Voices spoke over her head, but the buzzing in her ears prevented her from making out the words. Her mind was in overdrive, panic, fear, anger and on the defensive. Yet the nausea and pain prevented her from making any more movements for the moment. Instead, she let herself lay there in what felt like a bed with her eyes closed and tried to remember what had happened.

Nothing came to her mind. It felt heavy and foggy still. Like she was sleep deprived or having the worst hangover ever after consuming nearly a lethal amount of alcohol. Although her mind was screaming for sleep, the very thought of it scared the crap out of her. There was something lingering deeper, something which was ready to pull her down and entrapping her.

Her eyes snapped open once more. But the light blinded her, and her arms shot up to cover it – only, they did not reach her face. Forcing her eyes open to find the reason why, she had a hard time shaping the blurry colors into something concrete. In a desperate try to regain her normal sight, she blinked rapidly as she tugged at what was holding her arms down. Panic was beginning to take a hold and she could feel the dark energy of her biotic slippering through.

"Where the hell am I?" She spat, barley recognizing her own raspy voice from the muffled sound inside her ears.

"You need to calm down," a female voice urged.

Her eyes shot for the voice, but something in the corner of her eye peeked her attention and she turned to her right instead. The dark shape standing next to her began to take form, and not soon after was she met with the face of her brother's.

"You!" Ignoring the nausea, she lunched at him with the intent of strangling him. But yet again, she did not get far and had to be assisted back into the bed.

"Easy there, sis," John spoke with a slight amusement in his voice that she did not miss. A slight grin to his face came along with it as he clearly enjoyed her weak attempts. "You wouldn't want to seriously hurt yourself now, would you?"

He pushed her back into the pillow with barley any strength behind it to emphasize her weakened state. The small act left her aching and hissing at the burning sensation to her skin. Not only that, but her head throbbed like crazy by the sudden impact to the soft pillow. If her head weren't killing her already, she would have used her biotic to throw him through the wall. As soon as the spinning in her head got manageable, she opened her eyes to stare daggers at him and imagine his head blowing into tiny bloody chunks splattered on the walls. At least it would give some color to the gloomy room and one less strain to her headache.

"You're on the Normandy," a female voice spoke. Quinn slowly turned to the grey-haired woman who stood at the foot of the bed with her Omni-tool open. "How are you feeling?"

At first, Quinn just stared at the woman with confusion in her eyes. Ignoring the question, she let her eyes scan the room. Slowly and carefully, she took the sight in as her thoughts tried to find the reason to why she was here again. She remembered walking through this room when she escaped, entering the cargo hold and then following Nihlus down on Eden Prime. He had died on that planet. His death was still very fresh in her mind and so was the hatred for the one responsible. Another turian. Saren. Determined to kill him, she had followed him. Followed him to where? Her eyes fell to her right hand which clenched into a fist and then unclenched. She had no memory of killing him, crushing him with her hand. There was no recollection of what had happened after that. No memory at all after Nihlus had died. What had happened to her?

"Quinn?" John speaking her name broke her from her thoughts. "You could at least answer the question."

His condescending tone had her blood boil. Her eyes shot up at his with a lethal glance. "Like my head's going to split open. What the hell do you think?" She spat venomously. "You think I would throw up just for the fun of it?"

He stood and took her words in, but then an amused snort escaped him before he shrugged innocently and taunted; "Well, I don't know. Maybe that's your thing; puking up in places."

Not at all amused, her eyes narrowed in irritation. "Funny." Turning her head to the grey-haired woman, she asked in a commanding tone; "How long have I been out?"

The woman didn't even look up from the chart showing on the holographic screen as she answered in a calm, indifferent tone; "About fifteen hours."

She stared at the woman in shock. Fifteen hours? Her brain couldn't even comprehend that information. From how exhausted she felt in every part of her body, she had a hard time believing that she had slept for that long. Time had seemed like non-existent yet at the same time it had seemed like it was endless. Whatever had happened, had messed her up in more ways than one. The shock she felt must be written on her face, as both the woman and John looked at her with a slight concern on their faces. Then they turned their eyes to one another before returning them back on her once more.

"Quinn?" John asked, but she was too much in shock to respond. He spoke her name once more and waved a hand in front of her face.

What had happened after Nihlus died? Dread was spreading through her mind. She tried to retrace her steps. From the moment she stepped a foot off her ship to the very point where Nihlus was killed, and she had promised to kill his murderer. Excruciating pain and agonizing grief, she did remember. The feelings of anger, hatred, and rage. The torment to her mind and body was still very fresh in her memory. But after that… nothing. How could that have happened more than fifteen hours ago? It didn't make any sense.

Ignoring the hand in front of her face, she looked up at the woman. "What happened?" She asked with genuine concern, then turned to John, her tone the same. "Where is the beacon?"

The sudden softness in her tone must have taken him by surprise as he leaned back a little. He took a moment to look her in the eyes, jumping from the blue, to the green and then back to the blue once more. Then his expression grew harder. "The beacon exploded," he stated bluntly and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What? How?"

Still very blunt, he answered; "A system overload, maybe. The blast knocked you out."

"It's destroyed?"

"Yes."

Her shocked gaze lingered on his blue eyes, matching the color of her own single blue as she tried to determine if he was trying to deceive her along with taking in the information. John had never been a good liar as a kid, she doubted he had learned that skill in later years, which meant he must be sincere. She turned her gaze away from him as she got deeper in thought. The beacon was destroyed. She had lost 750,000 credits the moment it had blown to pieces. Yet, she somehow did not care so much about it. The money didn't mean anything to her anymore. The plan of getting a ship and a crew was insignificant. Yet she needed to get out of here!

"I don't suppose it occurred to you to leave me behind?" She asked, every word dipped in venom. An irritated stare from the corner of her eyes, gazed at John. "You just had to drag me back here. How very nice of you, John. Now when you–"

"Listen, you're better off in this infirmary than in any hospital on Eden Prime," the woman said as she cut her off.

Before Quinn had a chance to retort back, John chimed in, his tone light, but sarcastic. "I couldn't just very well leave you behind now when we finally are together again, now could I? We haven't had the chance to catch up yet. You know, you tell me what you've been up to lately, like – where do you live, what's your favorite food, who you've killed. You know, things like that. And I can tell you how you're going to spend the rest of your life behind bars." His tone changed to his big brother voice he had used when they were kids, and he was scolding her. The one demanding answer and he would take no bullshit. "Now, I have some questions that needs answers."

Just as she had done when she was a kid, she locked her narrowed eyes with his unyielding stare. It was true he hadn't taken any of her crap, nor any kind of lies she had thrown his way, but he was a fool if he thought she would just let herself surrender like that now. She was not a kid anymore and the methods that had worked on her then, had no effect on her now. The animosity between them only deepened as both refused to give. But she be damned if he thought he was the more stubborn one. She would not yield. Not to him. Never. The anger and disgust she felt towards him wouldn't let her. His betrayal may not be fresh, yet it was not healed either and it was bone deep.

"What makes you think I will answer any of them?" She challenged with a deep growl. "I don't owe you – anything." She laid back in bed and closed her eyes nonchalantly. "Just throw me in jail already so that I don't have to see your ugly fucking mug anymore!"

She had no energy to engage in an all-out shouting fit with John. Her head was still pounding heavily. Her mind was still foggy, her muscles aching, and she was exhausted. She longed for sleep, yet as soon as she closed her eyes, she was reminded of what was lying in wait just beneath the surface. Before she had a chance to prevent it, she let herself slip into the dark and the horrors got its hold on her for another taste. The bloody images reappeared inside of her eyelids. The ringing and screaming in her ears returned. The smell of burning flesh entered her nose. The skin was set ablaze. Lungs freezing. Heart pounding. Along with the waves of nausea and headache.

Before she could get the full force of it all, her eyes shot open, and she let out the breath her lungs had held captive.

"When I touched you back on Eden Prime before the beacon exploded–" John began, his tone cold, yet knowing. "–I saw an image inside my head. Something I can't describe other than it was painful." She turned her gaze to him. "I'm sure you saw more."

A bead of sweat trickle down her forehead and down the side of her face as she let her eyes linger on him. There was sincerity in his eyes along with knowing and pity. He knew what she was going though, the pain, the agony… It was not a nightmare. Something had happened to her.

Turning to the grey-haired woman once she had regained control of the nausea, she both demanded and pleaded; "What the hell is wrong with me?"

The woman gave her a look of sympathy, even though Quinn was sure the woman thought she deserve no such thing. "Physically, you're fine. But I detected some unusual brain activity, abnormal beta waves," she answered gently, but Quinn was beginning to think it was just the way the woman spoke and was not really intended as such. "I also noticed an increase in your rapid eye movement, signs typically associated with intense dreaming."

Quinn pushed herself up to sit. "Fine?" She asked surprised, yet anger was evident in her tone. "You call this fine? I feel like my fucking head is splitting open! I'm exhausted. My body aches all over! Every touch on my skin burns! And the slight movement makes me feel sick! Fine, my ass!"

"I bet it is from whatever you got from the beacon," John said confidently.

Quinn turned to him, but when he did not elaborate fast enough, she pulled at her cuffs as to emphasis for him to continue. He seemed to enjoy having the upper hand and let her stew a little longer. And this man was a respectable Alliance soldier…

"I felt sick after I grabbed you. It'll probably disappear within an hour or so."

"Great. Fucking great!" She fell back down on the bed and closed her eyes but opened them again as the vision threatened to return.

She drew in a sharp breath of air through her nose as the frustration was growing. This was really beginning to piss her off. The whole situation was totally fucked up. How did her life take such a weird and fucked-up turn? Where did it all go wrong? What should she had done differently so she would not be in this piece of crap situation? For her sanity's sake, she needed an answer to that. This! – was just not – happening! She was angry. Pissed! So unbelievably angry for so many reasons. She was exhausted! Tired like never before! And she could not go to sleep! She could not escape! Wasn't allowed to! It was so horrendously fucked up; it was almost funny.

Laughter escaped her because that was all she could do. A chuckle at first, that grew louder until it erupted to the brink of hysterical. Two set of eyes looked at her like she had gone mad. Maybe she had. Maybe all of her fuck up life had finally taken its toll on her and had driven her insane. This must have been the tip of the cake! Completing it! It wasn't funny, it was ridiculous. Yet she could not stop laughing for several minutes.

Then it stopped just as abruptly as it had begun. Leaving her quiet and stone cold.

He had always said she needed to stay cool. Especially in situation she couldn't control. –This– was one of them. The thought of Nihlus brought back the dormant ache in her heart. Tears formed behind her eyes and threatened to reveal the sadness she had tried to crush. The intense feeling of grief dulled the other sensations from the nightmare. Biting down on her lips, she forced herself not to let go of the sobs threatening to escape her throat. Their romance may have been brief and one for the movie scripts – but she had loved him as much as her defenses had allowed her to. And by the look of his eyes as he had died, he had loved her too, even if he had hated doing it. Although complicated in more ways than what they could've ever anticipated, they had somehow managed to make their strange relationship work. Not in a common fashion, but in a way for neither having to give up their lives. Brief and short meetings of sex and desire had been all they had gotten, yet they had not been meaningless. How it had happened, she couldn't really remember clearly. Only fresh out of the military, dishonorable discharged and brand a criminal, had her turn back to her roots of a life of crimes. Furious at the Alliance for wrongfully accuse her, had her turn to the same criminal group whom she had allegedly been selling guns to and was determined to take revenge out on anyone representing the Alliance.

Rising in rank quickly, she was getting attention from not only the human race, but the rest of the Citadel races as well. A Spectre crossed her path, and she killed him just for the sake of it. Or maybe it was for the shiny new toys he brought with him, – she wasn't really sure which. Then Nihlus came into her life. Chasing and demanding justice for his deceased comrade, only to fall into a game of tags. It had been intriguing, fun – even arousing. The mockery and banter turned into suggestive flirtations. Harmless at first, then the offers turned genuine and inviting. When they came together, it had been filled with raw, rough, hot sex. Both trying to satisfy their own need, their own fantasy. One encounter wasn't enough, and their clashing together turned passionate – until suddenly, Nihlus had decided he no longer was interested in their games. What had changed his mind, she had no idea, nor would ever learn the real reason why.

"If you keep chewing, you're going to bite your lip off," John spoke suddenly.

Letting go of her lip, she looked up at her annoying brother with murderous eyes. A small smile crossed his lips, flashing his teeth a little as he bashed in the joy of seeing her growing annoyed of his presence. Only when the door slid open, did he remove his ugly face from her line of sight and turned to the newcomer.

When the woman announced the name, Quinn wasn't surprised.

"Oh, Captain Anderson."

With just a few steps into the room, the familiar voice of her former mentor crossed the room. "How's our guest doing, Doctor Chakwas?"

The steps came closer to the bed and Quinn pulled herself up in a sitting position as soon as they reached the foot of the bed and gave him an angry stare. "A guest can leave whenever they desire," she spat before pulling forcefully at the cuffs keeping her hands tied to the sides of the bed and shouted; "Not being cuffed down to a FREAKING bed!"

The three of them had formed a scalene triangle around her – John to her immediate right, the doctor to her left, close to the knee and Anderson just by the foot of the bed. Feeling like she was on display along with the awareness of being trapped – entered her mind. She felt like an animal in a zoo and resented it. Unconsciously her right arm began to pull at her restrains as restlessness spread through her still exhausted body.

"An unpredictable one is," Anderson stated simply, and threw an eye to her right hand.

Finally snapping, she shouted with all her might, – tone demanding and callous; "Let me out of these things – now!" Pulling fiercely at the cuffs in an attempt to break free, the only thing she managed was to waste the small energy she had regained.

Ignoring her completely, the woman, answered Anderson's question. "Her attitude needs a change, but otherwise she's fine." There was a slight amusement in the woman's tone as she spoke. "A little bit more rest and she's ready to go."

Quinn stopped her struggling and eyed the doctor with disdain. This woman had no comprehension on what the word "fine" meant. If this was "fine", then she didn't want to know what that woman considered "bad". The woman threw her one last look before leaving and walking out of the med bay, a smile plastered on her face the whole time. There had to be something seriously wrong with that woman, Quinn thought. Yet, she kind of liked her for some reason.

Turning her attention back to the two men still in the room, she threw the question out in the open, not caring who of the two answered it. "So, the interrogation is about to start now, huh?" Her tone was dripping of dry sarcasm. "Not very guest like, either, if you'd ask me."

Ignoring her snide comment, Anderson put his arms behind his back as he took up his superior rank and asked with a tone she recognized all too well. "Did Saren get what he was after?"

The mentioning of the name struck both pain and hatred into her heart. The feelings flashed in her eyes as they grew darker and daggers was thrown at her mentor with the stare, she gave him. Though not initially intended for him, it was already too late to stop it. Another violent thug at the cuffs. A sharp intake through the nose and body growing stiff with hatred. The only thing missing was the flare of her biotic, but the throbbing in her head had her implant not responding as it normally would, and the dark energy could barely be made out from her form.

The two men exchanged an apprehensive look to one another as they saw her reaction. The biotic was struggling to cover her form, but the blind rage and determination would have it succeed eventually, and the damage done could be anything from mild to catastrophic. Although the later seemed a bit too farfetched at the moment. But before either of them had the time to intervene and break her away from it, it suddenly disbursed on its own.

A moment later, she had regained control of her emotions. "How the hell should I know," she growled under her breath, not bothering to hide the animosity. Pulling herself out of her line of though, she put the anger behind a mask of innocence and shrugged her shoulders as she continued with a lighter tone; "I don't know what he was after."

John slammed his fist into the wall, just barley over her head which had her taken by surprise. "Damn it, Quinn! This is serious!" He shouted. "He's dangerous and a threat to all humankind. We need to know what the hell you saw!"

Her narrowed eyes turned up to his as she questioned; "And why should I tell you? Huh?" Nonchalant, she turned away from him. "I don't care what happens to the human race. Or any other races for that matter." Then her eyes grew dark once more as she snapped them back to him, her tone matching. "He escaped! Gone. There is nothing you can do about it. Just let it go!" She turned her head away from him, ending it there. Or so she thought.

"The image I saw was enough for me to know it was some kind of warning. Something bad!" John challenged. "And Saren–"

"You want to go after Saren because of an image you got in your head?" The disbelief underneath her tone was undeniable as she turned to her brother. Then turned to Anderson to see if he was in on this ridiculous plot as well. He only stared back at her with an unreadable face. "A vision I saw?" She turned back to John and shook her head accusingly. "Are you completely and utterly lacking any form of brain cells? – Wait, don't answer that. I already know the answer." She turned to Anderson instead and repeated the question.

In the corner of her eyes, she saw how John was about to lose the little cool he had left, when Anderson decided to step in and pinpoint what she had said, and she had no idea why she answered him.

"A vision of what?"

"I saw... I'm not sure what I saw," she admitted truthfully. Her sight fell from Anderson as she tried to figure out how to explain it. Putting words to what she had seen, heard, felt and smell wasn't easy as it was still lying underneath the surface, just waiting to pull her in once more. Barley grazing it, she picked out a few words that came to her mind. "Death. Destruction. I saw synthetics. Geth, maybe. Slaughtering people. Butchering them."

The threat John had mention was there. She could feel it. But not only that, it felt like something was going to end. Death and destruction... Why should she care about that? The fate of the galaxy was of no concern of hers. She was no hero. That had been made perfectly clear more than once. Right now, all she wanted was Saren. And his severed head on a platter.

Anderson turned to John as he spoke with a serious tone in his voice; "We need to report this to the Council."

"The Council?" Her face twisted into confusion, before a laughter escaped. "You really think the Council would take this seriously? Are you really that dumb? A lousy criminal was caught in a blast and had a nightmare while passed out. Yeah – that sounds like something they would take – really – serious."

"We need to try–"

"You're both fucking idiots!" She spat at John, who took great offense by it.

Again, Anderson intervened before John could rip into the argument. "Commander, can you step out for a minute. I would like to talk to our guest in private."

Although coming out as a suggestion, both siblings knew it had been an order. John lingered a moment more with his eyes on hers before he broke it and turned to his captain. He saluted his superior before leaving the room reluctantly.

Quinn followed him with her stare until he disappeared behind the sliding door where the doctor had disappeared. Only when the door had slide shut, did she turn to look at her former mentor.

"You're doing this because of Saren, right?" She asked him point blank, but also to avoid whatever subject Anderson wanted to talk to her about. "If I remember correctly, you and Saren have a history. And not a good one. Is that why you want to take him down so badly? It's personal?"

"You have a good memory," he said quite surprised, but then a small smirk appeared on his lips for a short moment. "Yes. About twenty years ago, I was part of a mission in the Skylian Verge. I was working with Saren to find and remove a known terrorist threat. Saren eliminated his target. But a lot of people died along the way. Innocent people. And the official records just covered it all up. But I saw how he operated. No conscience. No hesitation. He'd kill a thousand innocent civilians to end a war without a second thought."

The story matched the one she had been told years ago. A story Anderson had used as a lesson for her to learn from. It had not made the impact on her back then, and it would certainly not have one now either. In her eyes, no one was innocent. She may have been naive and thought so back then. But that naivety had punched her right back in the face.

Still not seeing the point he was trying to make; she shrugged her shoulders as she said; "So? So would I."

"I don't believe that for a second," he was quick to scold. "You may not have a problem with taking someone's life. But would you really kill someone just for the sake of it? An innocent child? It's mother and father? You're not as heartless as you claim to be."

Her head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed in frustration. "If that kid stood in my way, then yeah, I would shoot him without batting an eye. I don't see what the problem is. If thousand people had to die to save a million, then so be it."

"Exactly," he exclaimed pleased like she had seen his point. A smile came upon his mouth before he grew serious once more. "But only if there's no other way. Saren doesn't even look for another option. He's twisted, broken. He likes the violence, the killing. And he knows how to cover his tracks."

"Sounds familiar," she said with mixed emotions. Took one to know one, she thought and remembered the way she had felt back on Eden Prime before Nihlus had been killed and Saren had turned up. Before the memory could bring back the sorrow, she pushed it as far back into her mind as possible and replaced it with arrogance. She said; "I could see his point. Killing is quite fun. But I prefer me doing it–" Her voice grew even more sadistic. "–with a bullet between his eyes."

"I want you to help take down Saren," Anderson suddenly proclaimed and taking her off guard.

Her eyebrows arched in confusion as she stared at her former mentor. Blinking a few times, she opened her mouth to speak, only to shut it before repeating the motion a few more times. In a total loss of words, she tried to process it. Was this–? Why would he–? Why–? Her thoughts did not proceed beyond that as the shock had not settled yet. All she did know, was that this had not been what she had expected to come out of his mouth.

He let it sink in and waited patiently for her to come to terms with the proposition.

Once the shock had settled, suspicion took its place. "You– want me to work – with the Alliance?" Her head tilted to the side as that sentence felt weird and wrong as it left her tongue. But then, she felt insulted. "Are you for real? There's no fucking way I'm joining up with the Alliance! No. Not again. I'm not getting back in!"

"I don't have the authority to reinstate you," he simply said. "But the vision you have, they are important. We need them. We need you. I don't know what these visions will bring, but I know it's nothing good." There was sincerity in his tone. "With someone as Saren, I think we need someone who isn't afraid to break a few laws to get him."

An intrigued brow was raised from hearing that. "Just a few?" There was a small pull at the corner of the man's mouth, but he recovered quickly. But she was still not fully convinced. "And if I say no? What then? You're take me in? Lock me in a deep, dark cell and throw away the key?"

"Yes," he stated plainly. There was no sympathy in his voice as he spoke next; "You're a criminal, Quinn. One who have killed a lot of my fellow soldiers and other people. I cannot let that continue if I can do something about it."

She snorted at that but gave a crocked smirk. "You sound disappointed. You knew what I was when you helped me enlist."

"You were not a killer then. I helped you get off the streets. Away from the slums and a life of petty crimes. To change your ways. To give you a different future. You were a good soldier, Quinn." Now, there was sympathy in his tone. "One with great potential. What you did on Torfan–"

"Was "butchering"," she quoted as she cut him off. "I was frowned upon then. And I'm frowned upon now. Nothing has really changed."

"It's never too late to change."

"You're sounding like a broken record," she muttered to herself as she turned her head away.

"What?"

Growing tired of this guilt tripping, she rolled her eyes at him before falling back into the bed. "You're wasting your time, Anderson. You did it back then, and you're doing it now."

The good man grew quiet. She could feel his stare on her as the minutes passed by. Old guilt was creeping back from long ago. She had looked up to this man and had disappointed him beyond repair when all the allegations and charges had taken place. She was disappointing him once again by refusing to help. But how could he expect her to work with the Alliance again? He may not believe her innocence, but she knew the truth. The Alliance had failed her before she had ever done anything to them. Yet now she was supposed to help them? To work with John?

"Then how about this offer instead–," he spoke up. "–when this is all over and Saren is dealt with, you are free to go your own way?" Sitting up once more, she had her suspicious eyes fall on his sincere ones. He even added; "I will even see to it personally you get off on any station of your choosing?"

Her eyes narrowed further as she thought about the offer. Anderson had never been the one to break his word, but the same could not be said about the rest of the galaxy. Anderson may be a respectable war hero and captain, but he had not much influence when it came to politics and galactic law. There was no way any galactic government official would allow her to go free if they could prevent it. Although most of her criminal acts had been to target Alliance affairs, she had indulged in other races as well. The Citadel Council would be delighted to hear that she had been apprehended and would demand she was imprisoned for life, if not executed. But then again, they would hesitate to engage in a war with the Terminus Systems and imprisoning her could risk that. Baktan may have taken her organization as his own when he lied about what had happened on that Alliance ship, but she was still a fearsome pirate warlord with both contacts and influence.

But what she did not have, was a way to get to Saren. He was a Sepctre and she knew from experience that catching a Spectre was extremely difficult. Nihlus had chased her, therefore always been within range. Saren on the other hand – he did not want to be found. Her contacts would not risk angering a Spectre, therefor they would be useless. It seemed if she wanted to get to him, she would have to play ball with these people. But about the fate of the galaxy, she could care less. It could all burn for all she cared.

"Fine, I'll help you find Saren," she said and looked up at the captain with determination. "If you let me out of these cuffs, then we can start making up a deal. I imagine you have some minor demands and restrictions in mind to keep me in imaginary cuffs instead."

One corner of Anderson's mouth twitched into a smile before he turned serious once more, ready to lay out the laws.

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Next chapter will be up as soon as I've written it... until then-

The teaser...

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"You're a poor excuse of a soldier!"

"Your punches are a joke!"

"That´s enough you two," John barked and took a few steps back to rub at the jaw which had taken a nasty punch.