It did not take long before they encountered the group of Solvers rushing toward them from the direction of the command center. There appeared to be two of the brasa, who had transformed themselves into the dark asari forms they favored. The rest were those odd long-eared, tall winged creatures. No Jabberwocks to be seen, and Athena smirked at the thought that their last supply of the vicious drone creatures had died back at the Solver base when she'd collected the Queen's control chip.

She didn't bother to engage or interfere with the Solvers directly. She merely drew Dr. Shepard to her side and engulfed them both with biotics, sending Sihra, Melara, and Pio forward to fight.

The battle was swiftly engaged, gunfire and soon blood spraying around the corridor. Allowing them to fight, however, was wavering her control on their minds- she could feel it. To grant them enough will to use their skills she had to release some of her hold. To tighten her mental grip would leave the three standing idly while they were torn apart.

Athena wasn't so much concerned about them being torn apart, as she was with the fact that would then leave her to address the surviving Solvers on her own. She could do it, of that she had no doubt, but there was then a risk that the doctor could be killed, and that her death would set the grenades off and ruin everything.

Taking advantage of a gap in the vicious clog of battle, she steered the placid Dr. Shepard around near the wall, edging past the melee toward the open corridor on the other side of them. From there, she would have a straight shot to the command center and control of this beauteous ship.

Then, something happened. She felt her control of one of her 'thralls' suddenly tear away, as if a great fist had gripped hold of her connection and ripped it free. Whirling, thrusting Dr. Shepard behind her with enough force to knock the still enraptured woman flat on the ground amid a clatter of grenades, she lit up with biotics. That tear of her connection had started a chain reaction, and she could feel the others also tearing free. Gripping the device she aimed it back at them but found she could not re-establish. The one who had torn her connection to begin with was batting away her attempts like swatting away angry flies.

Pio.

The fight had grown noisier. As Sihra regained her mental control she started snarling and bellowing, roaring her battle cry and lighting into the Solvers with even more ferocity. Her body was streaming with blood from a dozen wounds inflicted already but if they were serious or pained her, it could not be seen from the way she tore into them. Melara, hard pressed as well, shotgun barking repeatedly in her hand and her omni-blade slashing from side to side, shouted something toward Athena as she strove to get past one of the dark asari and its flashing tail and toward her cousin. Knowing Melara, they were promises of the most heinous retribution.

It was neither the rakir nor Melara that had her concerned, however, but the synthetic chassis that contained her cousin's pet Pio. It seemed it knew more about the device than she did, and somehow it had managed to throw her control off and break it from the others.

Far more concerning to Athena, however, was the look on the chassis' face as it swatted one of the Solvers aside and surged toward her at a run.

She had seen that expression before, and for a single chilling moment she knew exactly who was behind those artificial eyes that had become fixed on her with all the intensity of a sniper's targeting laser.

All of Athena's confidence in her destiny suddenly evaporated like smoke, replaced by surging doubt. Rushing backward as the chassis came forward, Athena whirled and snagged the confused, recovering Dr. Shepard up with a biotic sweep of her hand. Encasing her in a biotic bubble, she held the immobile doctor in front of her like a shield, backing up along the corridor.

"Stop!" she said, her voice ringing. The noise was starting to die down. Behind the blue shimmer holding Dr. Shepard hostage, Athena could see Pio slow down, but that murderous promise of pain had not left its eyes. Behind it, Sihra- fur sticky and tacked and matted with blood-looked like an otherworld demon brought to life as she tore open the throat of the final brasa abomination and fixed her eyes toward Athena as well. Her mask had been torn free but if the atmosphere in the ship was toxic to her she showed no reaction to it. Her nostrils flared widely but it was not the flare of one who was starved of air, but rather the flare of a hunting, starving beast who had come upon the scent trail of wounded prey. Her teeth were bare to the gums, pink and green with blood. One was broken.

Melara looked far less animalistic but no less determined, her own hands flashing with purple and white, her armor streaked and painted with blood of three different colors. Behind her heels lay her shotgun, an overheated thermal clip jammed in the discharge, a litter of clips spotting the corridor behind her. She stepped over the sprawled arm of a dead Solver and drew her machine pistols, her hands never halting their glow. Her helmet face-plate was streaked with gore and behind the mess and the biotic blue shimmer of Dr. Shepard's bubble, Athena could not see her cousin's face.

"Stop," she said again as Melara drew her pistols. Dr. Shepard let out a faint sound-not quite a whimper, but a sharp intake of breath nonetheless- as Athena tightened the biotic grip and stretched her arms painfully.

The warning was clear, but none of them looked convinced.

"You won't," Pio said. Its voice-no, her voice-as well just as deadly and familiar as her expression. "You kill her and those grenades go off."

Athena didn't know if that was true or not, but she suspected it probably was. She had taken the poorest hostage possible among the group- the only one she couldn't actually kill.

It doesn't matter anyway, she thought. Her destiny was just a few short halls away. The Solvers were dead, the command center just waiting for a new captain.

Athena smiled, but in truth her confidence and absolute assurance in her destiny had not returned. Not in the light of that synthetic's hard stare-the hard stare of a woman centuries dead.

Her biotics expanded slightly, and the grenades which had been spilled and scattered, began to rise up as well. None, fortunately, had rolled far enough away to trigger them. Perhaps destiny still was on her side at that. Perhaps this was merely her final test to see if she was worthy to be a goddess.

Still holding her prisoner in biotics, the grenades now lifted in the grip of biotics as well, Athena shifted slightly. Using one hand to keep her prisoner and the small orbs of black sealed in her biotics, she thrust her other hand forward.

For a moment, Pio was surrounded by a flaring orb of blue, lifted off her feet- but just for a moment. Even as Athena's fingers began to clench shut, intending to crush the synthetic in a surge of dark energy like one might crush an empty tin can, pain wrenched through her back.

Immediately her biotics wavered and then faltered, Pio dropping back to her feet, the grenades clunking to the ground, Dr. Shepard dropping next to them and immediately sweeping her hands out, trying to gather them before they could roll away.

The pain was fierce and sudden, but it was also familiar. So familiar that Athena twisted even as she cried out, expecting almost to see Liara standing behind her with the rifle in her hand, having shot her again.

It wasn't Liara. Instead, it was a black arachnid creature, the size of a rachni. The beast was clearly hurt, and hurt bad, but the eyes were alive with intelligence and determination. It ripped its powerful stinger back out of her back and then seemed to falter, the tail and its spear wobbling and wavering as if it had become too heavy to hold up.

She had never before seen the beast but she knew instantly who he was.

It was Blithe. He had been hurt but had escaped the initial Solver assault as they slaughtered his crew. The roaming creatures had indeed been looking for something-a wounded escapee who had hidden himself in the giant labyrinth that was this doomsday ship.

He had heard the battle, perhaps, and had come to help.

Then, something made of razors and iron covered in blood-stiff fur hit her with the force and fury of a cannonball, and she was fighting for her life.

Melara could see the clearly wounded brasa creeping down the corridor behind Athena, and though she suspected instantly who it was she could not be sure. It was not in the same 'dark asari' form as the Solvers had been, but if that bore any sort of importance or significance, it was beyond her at the moment.

When Athena lifted Pio in the bubble of biotics her intention was clear. Melara lifted her pistols but firing would be useless- the bullets would bounce off the biotics harmlessly. Then, Athena had cried out in obvious pain and as she twisted, her biotics releasing, Mel saw the brasa's stinger tear back out of her hard-suit, painted with purple blood.

Dr. Shepard was out of danger, on the ground and frantically scrabbling for the grenades that had fallen. Pio had been released, and Athena was turning away from them toward the brasa. Mel's fingers were tightening on the triggers of her pistols when Sihra suddenly lunged, bounding from Mel's side to tackle Athena with the full strength of her powerful legs. They sailed right over the weak brasa and dozens of feet down the corridor before crashing down in a tumbling ball of snarls, shouts, bellows, and flailing limbs.

Mel rushed forward, ignoring the ache of her own wounds, and reached the doctor. She had gathered all of the grenades and was hurriedly scooping them back into the bag. Seeing she was safe, Mel straightened and started toward the spitting, fighting ball of fury that was now lighting with flares of biotic blue, when words suddenly seemed to impress themselves in her mind. They were not like the control of the alien indoctrination device, more the brush of emotion, the nudge of a hand.

Go. No time.

Blithe limped past her, tail still wavering, and headed toward the battling rakir and asari abomination. Pio helped the doctor to her feet, then with one arm around her looked at Mel. "We have to go."

Gritting her teeth, Melara turned from the fight, and the three hurried past the scattered bodies of the dead and toward the waiting ship's core.

"The impact from falling set off the grenade timers," Pio said, as the doctor seemed to recover herself with determination. Hugging the bag to her chest like it was a child she was bound to protect, she had almost started to out speed them toward their destination.

"How long do we have?" Mel asked, not slowing.

"Thirty minutes."

It seemed like a long time but Mel knew that it would vanish like water. Once they reached the core they had to place the grenades precisely- that would take time. At a flat run, their top speed, it would take at least fifteen minutes to get back to the anchor and through it, and that was provided they were not hampered by Athena or any remaining Solvers that might not have been killed at the ambush and might seek to make further trouble. Given their wounds and state of exhaustion, that run was probably closer to twenty or twenty-five minutes. That didn't leave a lot of wiggle room.

A million thoughts kept ringing through her mind, and with military insistence, she shoved them into boxes and compartments and lockers, refusing to examine or entertain them right now. For the moment, only one thing mattered. They had to get the grenades placed and, to borrow one of her father's rather archaic human phrases, 'get the hell out of Dodge.'

As they pelted toward the core, she opened a comm line to Sihra as well as hopefully to EDI. She had no idea if the micro-fold was even still open, or if any working communications were to be had, but she tried.

"Sihra, don't come after us! Get to the anchor by any means you can! EDI, if you're reading this, do not send anyone else through that Fold! Be ready to open it on my signal- we'll be moving fast!"

There was no response from either party. Mel had a feeling she was talking to dead air, but she still had to hope.

Were the situation anything other than it was, Melara might have been awestruck as they rushed through the final door into the cavern that was the core of the mighty weapon they rode upon. The vessel was the size of a moon, and the room they found themselves in was the size of an asteroid that had been swallowed by said moon. Like tongues of lightning, white arcs of plasma lashed down from the distant ceiling and a ring of electronics that lined the upper walls. They lashed and licked and tasted at a huge ball of color and light that twisted and spun and boiled and melted within a round cage of a white static field fed by the lightning.

She had never seen anything like it. Compared to the raw power in front of them, they were like tiny gnats in the face of a contained nuclear detonation that had swallowed a rainbow.

They had no time for awe, however, no time for pause. Almost as soon as they were through the door and onto the walkway encircling the great artificial sun that should have set them aflame- but didn't- Melara looked at her father's doppelganger.

"Doctor!"

"It is-I did not calculate for such a size, I didn't…I must recalculate-…Pio, how far can I go from the grenades before they-"

"Five hundred yards," Pio answered immediately, and Mel imagined she could see calculations in its own eyes. "Together the grenades have a implode radius large enough for this entire vessel- five hundred yards would keep a bomber well within the destruction zone."

The doctor had closed her eyes, clenched them tight- not in despair, but in thought. Her lips were moving frantically in near silent whispers. She had one arm still bound around the grenades, and the other held out with fingers fluttering, as if asking a test moderator to give her more time. "O-ok, ok, I think it will work. If I stand directly at the junction of this railing here, we should be able to put the furthest grenades at exactly four hundred and ninety nine yards in both directions and then work our way back with a grenade at just under twenty five yard increments."

"That will be enough to tear this apart?" Mel asked.

"Not as completely as I would have liked, but at detonation it should remove a sufficient amount of material from the core to prevent the full chain reaction. The effect of the implosion may be slightly larger than this vessel but it shouldn't be enough to cause damage outside of this immediate area. D-depending on how close we are to the Omega Four relay it may take that out as well."

"If the Omega-Four relay goes it'll take out this system, won't it?" Melara asked, clearly remembering the Bahak system and the annihilation wrought there. "This is a populated system!"

"No," Pio told her, meeting her eyes. "The relay in the Bahak system was struck by an asteroid and detonated. The Omega-Four would not detonate, but be crushed in the implosion. No energy would escape to allow any sort of explosion, just as it will not escape from this vessel."

"We could already be through the Omega-Four," the doctor said. "We have no way of knowing!"

Melara knew it didn't matter anyway. Whether taking out this ship would take out the entirety of the system in which the relay was nestled didn't change what they had to do. Losing a system was far preferable to losing the entirety of the galaxy-or the entirety of their universe.

Still, her gut tightened and she felt sick at the thought. Without even thinking about it she looked at Pio and realized even as she spoke she wasn't speaking to Pio really, but to the ghost that lingered within it- a ghost that seemed to grow more and more defined within the chassis with each passing minute.

"How? How did you do it?"

"Because not doing it would be worse," Pio said softly, meeting her eyes. Then, it reached for the bag and started removing grenades. "Melara, I will take ten and go along the port. Take the rest and go along the starboard. Dr. Shepard, do not move from this spot."

Shepard nodded shakily, and as Mel took the bag from her with the second half of the grenades she briefly put her hand on the woman's shoulder. "Don't worry," Melara said. "We'll still figure this out and get you home."

The doctor said nothing, only nodded. Gripping the bag, Melara rushed to the right down the curving catwalk. She used her biotics to lower her mass and help her move much faster than normal, and powered on her omni-tool to calculate exactly the amount of distance she had. When she reached 400 yards she realized the grenades were making a humming sound that was increasing the further she went. A warning, no doubt- a signal to the bomber that they were getting dangerously far from their charges. At 499 yards as she skidded to a stop, the whine was almost painful, the high sing of a band saw cutting into bone. Carefully placing the first grenade, she started back toward the doctor, trotting twenty five yards before setting the next. She moved as fast as she was able but she still felt as if time was sliding off through her fingers like sand, and those thoughts and questions she hadn't wanted to entertain now seemed to shove their way to the fore of her brain.

Vina was dead. What misery or agony her best friend had died in, Melara probably never would know, and she could only pray that it had been quick, despite what she knew of her cousin. What Mel did know was that Vina was dead, and Athena had paraded around for days wearing her face in mockery…and Melara hadn't even noticed.

The best, strongest, most loyal friend that Melara had was dead, and she had not even noticed.

It was a trick of that damnable indoctrination device, she knew, but the grief and self-loathing that burned in her at what Athena had done was like a fire piercing her chest.

Now, there was Sihra. There was a good chance the rakir would kill Athena- she'd taken her by surprise and in such close quarters it would have been difficult for Athena to use her biotics. With Blithe's help- weak and wounded as it was- then surely Sihra could not fail.

Even as she tried to hold to that idea she knew in her gut it was futile. Sihra had already been badly hurt by the Solvers. She had fought like a revenant once the control lifted but before that, her reflexes and her wits had been slowed. Melara had seen more than one strike cut in under the rakir's sluggish defenses. Because she had been the largest target and perhaps even in a ghost of recognition of the Iovino that were her ancestors, the Solvers had focused most of their efforts on the rakir. She had been badly hurt before she had even tackled Athena, and though she would fight with every ounce of strength and life left in her, Melara feared it would not be enough.

I'm sorry, Vina, she thought as she set the next grenade, then the next. I'm sorry to you, to Beth, to Sihra, and to everyone else I've failed. I swear it, I'm not going to fail again. Not this time. I'm not going to fail again.

Mel hadn't come out of that battle unscathed either, and even as she trotted she could feel the dull, throbbing ache of her wounds, punctuated by the battering she'd received when the explosion had gone off in the citadel. Most of it was distant and fuzzed by her suit's painkillers but she could also feel the uncomfortable heat at the back of her neck, between her shoulders, across her cheeks and forehead. She was getting a fever, and it was rising steadily. Those damned cutting edges of the Solver's weapons had poisoned her blood again. She'd felt it twice before and there was no mistaking it now.

Like everything else, she shoved it down and aside and locked it away once more. It didn't matter. In half an hour she might be in a fevered delirium back home, or here, or dead. If she got home they could help her, if not it didn't matter anyway. She just had to keep a hold on her wits long enough to make sure that Pio and the doctor got back safely through the Fold before those grenades went off. All else was incidental.

She wasn't failing anyone again.