Disclaimer: Bioware and EA own the characters, setting, et cetera, I'm just playing in their sandbox.

"Saren Arterius."

Q smirked and responded, "Excellent choice, monsieur. Take a few minutes, then I'm sending you both back."

With a flash, Saren appeared before Wilbur, head hung in shame. "Shepard. Thank you for making me see, in my final moments." Picking his head up, he added, "I will not allow Sovereign, or any other Reaper to twist my mind again."

"It called itself Nazara." Seeing the equivalent of a cocked eyebrow, Wilbur added, "Legion, a platform from the main Geth collective, told me that." He shook his head to clear the memory of Legion uploading itself to the collective, as close to self-sacrifice as it could get. "Anyway, we're heading back to shortly after Elysium. Will that be enough time?"

Saren mused, "If we're dedicated, we can prepare, lessen the casualties this time around. I have no love for how quickly your species is expanding, but you and certain others have earned my respect."

Wilbur accepted that, knowing it was all he was going to get from Saren. "What's your first move going to be? After handing some OSD's to Alliance Intel, I'm going to be off the grid for a while, what with trying to broker a treaty between the Geth and the Quarians."

Saren nodded. "I will present my data to the Council, and find a suitable world for the Rachni after I recover the egg."

Q chose that moment to reappear with a human whiskey in his left hand, and a turian liquor in his right. He handed each drink to it's respective species and disappeared again.

Wilbur raised his glass and said, "Here's to saving the galaxy, for good this time."

Saren returned the gesture and added, "And wealthy retirement afterwards."

Both men chuckled, then downed their shots.

Wilbur awoke to see the walls of his quarters on Arcturus Station. The console on the desk in the room read 07/12/2176 05:57. 'Well, here I am again. Time to make a difference.' He switched off the alarm clock function, dressed, snagged the OSD's from the desk, then left his quarters. He barely made it ten meters down the hall when a familiar voice boomed, "Lieutenant Shepard!"

He turned to be greeted by the visage of an old friend. Saluting, he replied, "Commander Anderson, sir."

David returned the salute and said, "At ease, lieutenant. Tired of the media circus yet?"

Wilbur's expression turned sober as he answered, "Yes sir. Commander, could we speak in private?"

Anderson nodded, then they both went to Wilbur's quarters. When the doors closed, David asked, "Alright Shepard, you wouldn't ask to speak in private if it wasn't something big. What's going on?"

Wilbur sighed, decided he wasn't going to lie to his mentor, and replied, "Sir, if I were to warn you of a race of sentient starships currently hiding out in dark space that culled advanced civilizations every 50,000 years, how would you take it?"

David's eyebrows threatened to make contact with his hair line, but ever the professional he coolly answered, "Anyone else, I'd think they were on a mix of Hallex, PCP and red sand. You, I'd want evidence."

Wilbur reached into his pocket, pulled out the OSD labeled 'Alliance Intel' and inserted into the Alliance-issue computer in the room, stating, "I can provide that, sir." Pulling up the file on Nazara and the damage it caused at the Battle of the Citadel, he found the composite video and hit 'Play.'

David Anderson had seen his share of space warfare, but seeing the destruction wrought by Nazara alone had him inwardly on high alert. The heretic Geth, while holding their own, were but an afterthought to him. After the hour-long video with additional data he asked Wilbur, "The giant black ship, Nazara. That was just one of these 'Reapers'? It did all that itself?"

Wilbur nodded, "Yes sir. And-"

David held up his hand and said, "Wilbur, I think we can skip formalities for now." Shaking his head, he asked, "My God, the data says there's millions of these things in existence, and a few hundred brought the galaxy to it's knees?"

Another nod. "The only reason we had a chance last time around-"

David looked at Wilbur as if he had grown four additional heads. "What do you mean, 'last time around'? Are you telling me you're from the future and you replaced your present self, or something sci-fi like that?"

Wilbur spent the next hour and a half explaining what had happened, from Eden Prime to the Q Continuum. David stayed silent, but at the end he asked, "You know how things played out. Where do you think we should start?"

Smirking, Wilbur mused, "I wonder if resolving the conflict between the Quarians and the Geth would count as a humanitarian mission?"

A bark of laughter came forth from the Commander. "It would, but Command needs to be informed about the data on that OSD. I can't even imagine how long that's going to take."

The young man confided, "David, we have ten years. It may not be enough." His expression hardened as he swore, "But I'll be thrice-damned if the Reapers committed another cycle of genocide because I was stuck in committee."

David said, "Wilbur, you've always gotten the job done, from preventing those gangbangers on Earth from mugging me, to Elysium, even to the Crucible last time. You'll get it done."

Wilbur nodded once. 'I won't fail you this time, Tali. You won't have to watch your people burn in the skies above Rannoch because one warmonger of an Admiral wouldn't listen to reason. Nor will the Reapers force me to choose. For what it's worth, I'm truly sorry about choosing the Geth instead of making peace.'