Chapter 7

She didn't know what to feel, looking out the window and seeing Jupiter in the distance. Earth and the Citadel were just a few minutes away. The last time she'd seen this was on the Normandy, leading the multi-species collation she'd assembled to lead the desperate fight against the Reapers. She was amazed it had worked at all, it could've just as easily hastened their deaths. It was a year ago, more or less to the day. She didn't know what to expect either. She'd seen vids of the reconstruction efforts but they gave an inadequate picture.

Meetings, reports she'd had since her term as Councillor were filled with details of labour shortages, starvation, economic stagnation, thriving black markets. An economist she'd met told her it was like Europe after the second world war, only on an unimaginably grander scale. The quarians and salarians were helping the most, they'd been the least scarred by the Reaper war, but with every species needing help, resources were thinly spread. Despite the war having been won above earth, it felt like humanity had won a Pyrrhic victory at best. Billions dead, many of their colonies destroyed or abandoned, the armed forces decimated, cities an impenetrable maze of rubble and death.

Earth came into view. The Citadel was on the opposite side and obscured by humanity's cradle. Asari commandos came and escorted the remaining Councillors from the Ascension's viewing bay to the cargo hold. Tevos' chargé d'affaires, Atlyta Neroona, was filling in for her. Tevos' sudden resignation had elicited some alarm and concern due to its suddenness. The stock market had tumbled a few points. Her replacement would take a few weeks to be nominated and many said the asari would suffer without her steady leadership. Others wondered how the peace conference would go with its architect now gone. There were many rumours that her resignation was due to a feud with another councillor. She had Neroona to thank for that rumour becoming public though she suspected that even Neroona knew who truly was to blame for Tevos' extinct family.

She boarded the shuttle with Valern, Neroona and Sparatus and a dozen asari commandos. She was nervous, this would be her largest public appearance since her assassination attempt. A kinetic shield generator was discreetly installed on her back. It was small and thus not very powerful, but it would stop a single bullet, giving her time to find cover. Hopefully it wouldn't be needed. Nihil verum nisi mors.

The pilot had to plot a specific course to avoid the countless pieces of space junk and debris orbiting the planet. She stood up and looked out the window as London emerged out of the clouds. The city was largely still charred black. As it flew lower she could make out more details; the Tower and London Bridges were slowly being rebuilt, Big Ben was encapsulated in scaffolding as if it were a cocooned insect. London City Hall was completely levelled, although most agreed this was an improvement. St. Paul's Cathedral was gone as were other landmarks like Buckingham Palace. The rest of the city was a morass of ruble and eviscerated buildings. There were areas where rubble had been cleared, these were the refugee camps packed with tents and pre-fab buildings. Throughout the world there were reports of cholera, dysentery and other outbreaks in these camps. It was hard to predict when things would get better.

There was a clearing ahead, surrounded by throngs of people and various drones. She knew where she was without recognizing it. This was where the conduit had been, where she'd made her mad dash, where she bade farewell to her love, hoping she would live longer than her. The shuttle landed with a light bump. The commandos filed out first. The air was damp and cold, just like the last time she'd been here, though it was bright and sunny, the sound of cheering crowds was a satisfactory replacement to the sounds of battle.

A commando came to the shuttle entrance and nodded to them. She looked to the other Councillors and nodded to them. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins. She never felt so nervous. Giving a speech in front of a dozen troopers was one thing, in front of an assembled crowd of hundreds? Not to mention the countless throngs who'd be watching on the extranet. Valern left the shuttle first. The cheering increased. He paid no heed to anything, he moved beyond her line of sight. Neroona's arrival was more muted but still respectful.

"I think you'll get a better welcome than if you'd came twenty years ago." She told Sparatus.

He nodded. "I for one am glad for that." He remarked dryly.

He received a surprisingly loud and enthusiastic cheer. The cheering ebbed slightly for a moment and then began to build up. Cassandra stood in the shuttle. She felt their anticipation, she felt it herself, though it was tempered by anxious ambivalence. She stood at the threshold and the cheering increased. She looked outside. She saw the other Councillors and a handful of other VIPs, including Admiral Hackett and Alliance Prime Minister Samantha Sutherland, standing at a podium, all were looking in her direction. Hackett nodded to her.

She tapped the battery, ensuring it was still active. The cheer increased again in volume, the anticipation was tangible, something she could reach out and touch. She took another step forward, now at the threshold. The roar of the crowd continued to increase, it felt like the ground was shaking beneath her. She exhaled and saw her breath materialize in front of her. This is it. She breathed in deeply and placed her left foot forward. She felt the light of the sun, the touch of the cold wind on her face, and the roar of the crowd became almost deafening, an implacable wall of sound.

Nihil verum nisi mors.

She stood just outside the shuttle, not remembering stepping outside. She looked to her left, where the assembled crowds were. There was hundreds of them, held back by security and steel fences. Hovering above were dozens of camera and security drones. Half built buildings had crowds on scaffolding. She stood immobile for a few seconds. then she smiled and wove to them. The crowd's roar increased. The euphoria she experienced was indescribable, she felt lighter and happier. For the first time she was able to receive praise without cringing, without feeling she hadn't merited it. Her past mattered less. For the first time, she believed those who told her she'd more than atoned for her past. She fought a hard battle to restrain her tears.

"Shep-ard! Shep-ard! Shep-ard! Shep-ard!" The crowd chanted. A cathartic exaltation. She walked to the podium continuing to wave to the crowd. She came to the outlier of VIPs and shook hands with all of them.

"It's nice to see you again, Shepard." Admiral Hackett said. She reached out to shake his hand, but instead he snapped to attention and saluted. She reciprocated, much to the delight of the cheering masses. They shook hands then, he still had a grip. Then she shook hands with the Prime Minister.

"It's nice to finally meet you in person." She said as they shook hands. They'd spoken a lot of the course of the past several months. Cassandra didn't realize that the Prime Minister was almost a behemoth, standing tall at 6 and a half feet tall. She looked to the podium where a microphone was. Cassandra sighed.

"Nobody here cares what any of us have to say." The Prime Minister said, almost apologetically. Cassandra nodded. She'd worked with Liara and Stravowsky all week on a speech. It had been difficult to focus. Her staffers had drafted a speech for her. It was bland and soulless. It was the speech she'd be remembered for, few knew about her speeches on the Collector base, or even in this city a year previous. So it would have to be something memorable and meaningful. She approached the podium and the impossibly loud crowd became even louder. She closed her eyes, almost expecting a bullet, or worse, to come calling. Nihil verum nisi mors. There was nothing, only the cold wind and the warm crowd.

"It's been a year since all of us beat the Reapers." She began a huge cheer broke out. "And in even better news, Man U won't be winning the Premiership this year!" Even louder cheers interrupted with bouts of hearty laughter. Make a joke to appeal to the locals, Stravowsky had advised. That was the soundest advice she'd received in weeks. The tension drained out of her, she relaxed, not truly seeing the amassed throngs of hundreds in front of her. And so she continued her speech for a dozen minutes; she spoke of the strength of unity, how proud she was of the people she'd served with, that the worst was over, that the future held nothing but promise.

"By defeating the Reapers, we've earned the right to decide our future for ourselves, the world has changed, but it has changed on the only terms acceptable: our own. The road ahead is not easy, but nothing worth achieving is ever easy. Defeating the Reapers means we've earned the right to decide our own destiny. We do that the same way we beat the Reapers: by standing together!"

She stepped away from the podium and waved to the ecstatic crowd, she lost the battle against the tears and they flowed freely down her face, but she wore a wide smile and she scarcely noticed the tears. Lost in their acclaim, she felt free of the weights and sorrows that had weighed her down for so long.

A few short speeches later the ceremony was over. The crowd remained, continuing to cheer and chant. A Mako drove up to they boarded. Cassandra was the last to board and she waved one more time to the enthusiastic throng. She was beset again by a strange ambivalence, remembering how clumsily it handled yet how the vehicle till retained an ineffable charm. She remembered the adolescent joy and thrill of ramming geth colossi and armatures and then blasting them with its cannon. It was strange to be in the passenger compartment, seeing something familiar from an unfamiliar frame.

The Mako drove around for a few minutes before stopping. They filed out, finding themselves before the last stop of their tour before the Citadel, Middlesex Hospital, opened in the mid 18th century and still standing, now home to many wounded veterans of the Reaper war. A few camera drones were floating near the entrance and many reporters. A path had been cleared for them from the Mako to the hospital's entrance. A makeshift fence kept the throng reporters at bay. She spotted Diana Allers and Al-Jilani among them and gave each of them a brief nod. There was no time allotted for press interviews and she was quietly relieved, she cared little for Allers' appearance, it served no purpose other than catering to male gaze, though she did bear a begrudging respect to Al-Jilani. She wasn't afraid of asking tough questions and would stand up for herself.

Upon entry to the hospital she was greeted by Captain Sanderson, the officer in charge of her during her recovery on the Florence Nightingale. She greeted Cassandra with a warm if formal smile and they shook hands. The hospital smelt cleaner than the Nightingale did, though it still had the dry, unappealing antiseptic smell that other hospitals did. Like all hospitals, it bore with it the implicit reminder of death. Nihil verum nisi mors.

She followed Sanderson as she took the Councillors on a brief tour of the hospital's rehabilitation wing. The tour was supposed to be brief but all of the councillors, even Neroona, spoke with and comforted the people they saw. Cassandra saw many who'd been maimed and were adjusting to eezo-powered artificial limbs. The hospital housed wounded of every race. She spoke with a turian who was acclimatising to his prosthetic arm, a krogan who'd had his hump sheared off by a Ravager and had it restored with cosmetic surgery. It was quiet and sombre, the complete opposite of her speech, yet it wasn't bleak. It was more hopeful now, more hopeful than her impromptu tours of the Nightingale when she was a patient there. All the more because this hospital didn't have a psychiatric ward.

The shuttle took them quickly to the rebuilding Citadel. Looking out the window it was the opposite of the first time she saw the Citadel. It was majestic and wondrous. Now it was surrounded by a long queue of freighters and shuttles ferrying construction materials. The five rings were attached but only one wing was open to habitation. The cityscape was provided by countless legions of construction towers, scaffolding, floating construction drones and other signs it was a work in progress. Only the Presidium and the Tower were truly finished, but even those lacked the customary refinements and adornments . It resembled more an unfinished mechanical monstrosity than the seat of galactic government.

Their shuttle docked in one of the four operational docking bays. They were greeted by a C-Sec detail led by Commander Bailey. He looked five years older than the last she'd seen him on the Citadel. His hair was greyer, his face wore more lines and his jaw seemed tighter. He'd held off the Reapers for as long as he could, saving hundreds of lives in the process, before he too had to evacuate.

"Greetings Excellencies. Welcome back to the Citadel. It's not exactly how I left it but it should do for now." He remarked with customary charm.

They were led from the docking bay, surrounded not by curious onlookers or journalists but by construction workers , covered in grime and sweat, scarcely looking up from their task to look at the VIPs walking by. The security detail led them up to the Tower, using their own secret elevator. They walked out from the elevator onto the podium and looked below. It resembled little the tower from her memory, where she fought Saren and Soverign. The adornments of the courtyard and the tower weren't yet installed, it looked more like a grand empty space than a grand hall where government held court.

Below them was a small crowd of various dignitaries. Some were diplomatic staff and government heads, she saw every species from hanar to volus to elcor, others were here owing to buying tickets that went into the Council's rebuilding fund. Each of the councillors made speeches, Cassandra conceded to reading the speech her staff had written for her. It was dull and featureless, the opposite of the speech she'd given hours earlier. She was tired of speeches and ceremonies. Not just tired of the hullabaloo, but in general. She was tired and hungry and anxious. She was due to meet Miranda as soon as all the ceremonies were over.

30 minutes later it was all over. She sighed aloud in relief as she disappeared from the podium. A different tension evaporated only to be replaced by another. She was in the elevator with the other Councillors. All were dispersing to attend to their own various business. They would reconvene again in two days' time. The batarian peace conference was a week away.

"I agree, these ceremonies are tedious at best." Sparatus said.

"I look forward to retiring. There is much to prepare for." Valern added, focused on business as usual.

Neroona said nothing, though she too was evidently tired. The elevators opened. A cadre of C-sec officers were awaiting. The Councillors went their separate ways. She wanted to visit her apartment and office, but Miranda's visit had priority. The office and apartment would always be there, she'd be seeing plenty of both soon enough.

"Get me a car." She ordered the senior of her C-Sec guards, a turian sergeant. He was flanked by two others, both humans. The turian nodded and signalled for her to follow. She followed them, they took her to the local C-Sec branch. It was small, holding only a reception area, a small penitentiary area was in the basement. She followed them upstairs was administration. It was busy, dozens of officers at work, mostly coordinating the installation of security equipment. From there she was led into the rooftop garage and went into a patrol car. They drove her to the address Miranda had given her. It was one of the few apartment buildings open, though it was still sparsely populated. In a few months time as more businesses would move here, and more political and diplomatic activity was taking place, these would quickly become occupied.

The security detail followed her into the apartment building. It was unfinished, the smell of fresh paint hung heavily, there were no generic adornments like potted plants, paintings, carpets or even furniture. The security system wasn't fully installed, meaning one could easily enter the building without having a key or being buzzed in, neither were the fire detectors fully installed, the ceilings and walls were lined with holes and protruding wires like craters on the surface of the moon.

She asked them to wait outside room 071851. She knocked on the cold steel door. It was quickly answered by Miranda, wearing a snappy blue business suit and long skirt. Seeing her in something modest was a shock. But her modest dress seemed only to enhance her unnatural attractiveness. She smiled lightly and allowed her inside. The apartment was small and unfurnished except for a table in the centre of the main room, it was equipped with various scanners and readouts and displays. The room had a window which overlooked the neighborhood. The view was far from inspiring, showing the inchoate skyline, marred by ubiquitous incomplete buildings, scaffolding and construction towers.

"Love what you've done with the place." Cassandra remarked with light sarcasm.

"I'm just renting this for our purposes. My job's keeping me rather busy and I don't foresee needing to get an apartment here for the next little while."

"I didn't think they rented these out by the hour." Cassandra said.

"No, I had to rent this for the month." She said.

"Miranda, you didn't have to do that. I'll reimburse you."

"No need." Miranda insisted. She raised her right hand to signal this matter wasn't up for discussion.

"Okay, well, how have you been?"

"I really like my job at Special Projects, it reminds me of working for Cerberus. I get a lot of flak for my past, but when people find out I crewed with you, they turn right around. It's rather amusing. They always want to hear stories. I love to tell them the bit about how we took down those mercs on Illium, and you remember the look on that salarian's face?"

They laughed. That had been rather impressive, she admitted to herself. It was something so outrageous it belonged more in a Blasto movie than real life. It reminded her of a line from a classic movie. When you have to shoot, shoot, don't talk.

"How's your sister?" She was genuinely curious about Oriana.

"She's doing well. She's starting university. She's got a boyfriend but he's a bit of a rat. Only has a 3.0 GPA, citations for underage drinking, she can do so much better than him." She said angrily. Damn, how long will it be before I start saying the same about Aisha?

"She'll find that out for herself soon enough." Cassandra reassured.

"You're right. But I can't help but be protective of her. " Miranda said. There it was. The real Miranda, the sensitive, caring one that was covered by that cold shell. If she would ever allow herself to open up to the right person, she would live a happy life.

"Anyway, enough small talk. Let's get started. Please lay on the table." Miranda waved her hand. Cassandra lay on the examination table. Miranda activated her Omni-Tool and the table buzzed to life. She kept her eyes on Cassandra rather than her instruments as she questioned her.

"So, give me a run through of your physical symptoms." Miranda asked.

"Headaches, nosebleeds, sleep difficulties."

"What about your nutritional and exercise regimens?"

"I work out about 3 times a week on average. I still eat pretty good."

Miranda nodded. "What about your biotics?"

"I don't use them as much. Maybe once a week I exercise them. Not optimal, I know."

Miranda nodded in a disapproving if understanding way. Like a doctor who's used to hearing a patient make excuses for not making an effort, while at the same time recognizing this was a minor matter.

"What about your mental health?"

Cassandra sighed. "I get nightmares every other night, I'm irritable, I get... really emotional sometimes. I'm pretty sure it's the PTSD. I see a shrink every couple of weeks. I don't know if it makes any difference. He just listens to me babble and gives me happy pills."

"It takes time." Miranda said quietly. "I'm sorry, you... you deserve better."

"Yeah, well, we all do." Cassandra sighed.

She watched Miranda as she activated her Omni-Tool and began scanning her, having her warm over the length of her outstretched body. She read her Omnni-Tool and other displays with her cursory thoroughness and concentration.

"My God," Miranda said quietly, looking at the readings on her Omni-Tool. Her posture changed suddenly, her shoulders tensed, her head titled downward.

"What is it?" Cassandra asked anxiously. She sat back up in a blur of motion.

"I'm sorry, Shepard." She began, her voice uncharacteristically nervous. "But your implants have elevated energy output 30 marks above red line; the servos have been over capacity for some time, connections are fraying, the regeneration transistors are-"

"Spare me the technobabble! You sound like someone on Star Blek: Traveller." Cassandra said in frustration, slamming her fist on the cold examination table. It produced a loud, hollow clanging sound and Cassandra noticed that her hand felt strangely numb.

Miranda closed her Omni-Tool and looked away from her. Crossing her arms she sighed and spoke quietly.

"You're dying."