A/N: This chapter kind of gave me fits. I'm hoping I did it justice and it doesn't just suck rocks. If it does…forgive me.
The rumbling roar of waves surged against ragged stone and worn pitted steel, the sound all the lonelier for the lack of bird cry.
An ocean with no sea birds pricked at the back of Del's mind like a small needle, and she squinted up from her crouch to regard the sky and the slate gray sea again, searching unconsciously for what she already knew wasn't there.
No birds, no mammals…the only animal life Aeia could boast were a few varieties of insects, scant sea life, and some very small reptilians. Plant life was prolific, however, the scent of blooming trees and grasses riding on the sea winds, stirring over the broken spine of the Hugo Gernsback.
The frigate had crashed into the low rocky cliff, its flank half sunk into the surf, its nose barely balanced atop the ridge. Worn by the salt air, slowly being overtaken by moss, the wreck was still remarkably intact. Old signs of activity around it made it more than clear at least a majority of the crew had survived impact.
"This place feels so empty," Kasumi murmured, hugging herself as she stared at the sea. "Hollow somehow. I've been to Tuchanka, Shep. It's a ruined desert, an almost endless Armageddon, but it feels more lifelike than here."
Straightening from her crouch at the VI's holographic feet, Shepard could only agree. "It's clear whatever crew did survive, they left this location quite a while ago. So how come the beacon just now started bleating?"
"It took them this long to fix it?" Kasumi asked, looking over at her.
"No," Shepard said. "The VI is corrupted and mostly useless for anything other than standing there and looking creepy, but its database says it was repaired six months after the crash. That was nine years ago."
"They fixed it then and just now decided to switch it on?" the thief asked, startled.
"Seems like."
Motion caught her eye, and she nodded once. "Looks like Jacob and Tali are heading back."
The pair were crossing the landing bridge between the Gernsback and the shore, the human man obviously grim-faced. They had gone aboard to see if they could find any information about what had happened or where the crew had gone, while Shepard checked out the beacon.
"Find anything?" she asked as they got in ear-shot.
"The crew lived aboard the ship for a short while after the crash," Tali supplied. "We found some remnants of logs, some of which were a little…disturbing."
"Disturbing?"
"Apparently the life here is toxic. Incompatible with human biochemistry," Jacob replied as they drew to a halt. "Plants as well as what animals and insects there are. To eat anything that grows on this planet causes chemical imbalances in the brain which are cumulative. Some of the later logs demonstrated confusion and memory loss."
"Surely they had food stores?" Kasumi asked.
Jacob looked at her. "For a crew this size? Food stores would have run out in a year. The beacon was damaged with no ETA on repair. After a while, well…you gotta eat, you know?"
"We can't make too many assumptions just yet," Shepard sighed. "There are too many unknowns. Right now our priority is finding survivors, if they exist. Clearly they've moved on from this location and the most logical direction to go would be inland. We…what?"
Kasumi was standing just to her right, so when Shepard felt the sharp tap to her shoulder pad she naturally assumed the thief had done it, attempting to get her attention. Her glance around at Kasumi revealed only a confused expression and a moment later, Shepard's eyes fell on something on the ground. Stooping, she picked it up.
"What is it?" Tali asked, moving around her shoulder.
"It's…an arrow," Shepard said, displaying the rough wooden projectile with wonderment as she realized exactly what it was she held.
Shepard had been shot and shot at with many different kinds of weapons over the course of her life, but this was a first. Arrows were, of course, no threat to her while she was in her hard-suit. Though slow enough they were not deflected by her shields, the pads themselves could withstand certain calibers of gun-fire. A pointy stick had no hope of doing more than scratch them.
She scanned the trees, looking for the shooter, but nothing could be seen.
"Natives perhaps?" Kasumi wondered. "I thought there were no native intelligences here."
"There aren't," Jacob affirmed. "The crew maybe? Why would they be shooting bows and arrows? It wasn't a military ship but the Gernsback did have a small Armory for personal side-arms."
"Ten years, maybe they ran out of thermal clips?" Shepard ventured, then lifted her voice. "Hello? Can you hear us? It's all right, we're here to help!"
Silence. Nothing but the crashing waves and wind replied. Shaking her head, tucking the arrow in her belt, she gestured. "It came from that way, so let's head that way and see what we find. Be careful. Even an arrow can kill you if you do something fucking stupid, and they could still have small arms. Eyes peeled and watch your step. Kasumi, see if you can't get the lay of the land."
"On it," the thief agreed, vanishing under her cloak even as she trotted toward the tree line.
"Hold still, hold still!" Shepard urged, gently but firmly trying to restrain the woman rolling and kicking upon the ground, gripping her arm and wailing in pain. From the faint bulge in the side of it, at least one bone was clearly broken.
"Shit…shit is she ok?" Jacob asked, hovering over them with his weapon in hand, his dark eyes troubled.
"She's in better shape than she would have been had that arrow hit her, " Shepard reassured him. As the stranger's wails and flailing calmed down a bit, Del gingerly helped her to sit against the base of one of the trees.
The woman had appeared out of nowhere only a few minutes after they entered the tree line, hooting and waving at them with some excitement. Clearly human, she was obviously one of the Gernsback crew though her clothes looked tattered and badly patched together from a dozen different outfits. She had an odd, lean and hungry look about her, but seemed no end of delighted to see them.
So delighted, in fact, that she completely ignored their weapons and all but tackled Shepard in a hug, as if they were sisters long apart and just reunited. Once Del had gotten her grip to loosen the woman began to babble. It was only a few words in that it became clear she was suffering from some serious issues.
Language seemed difficult. She spoke rapidly but kept struggling for words, or to pronounce simple ones. Abstract ideas seemed to stymie her, words and concepts replaced or substituted with far simpler ideas. She had seen them land in their shuttle, she said…or as she called it, their 'star'. They had been waiting for someone to come and take them to the sky. She didn't seem to know why, only that they had once been in the 'sky' and then had come here, and all they wanted was to get back.
Shepard kept trying to calm her down, to puzzle through what she was saying. She asked questions but struggling to answer them only seemed to frustrate the poor woman. After a few minutes, Del finally managed to get the woman's name.
"Devor…no, D-D-Deb…no…" the woman stuttered. "Deb…B-B-Bones. There are bones….bones in it…"
"Devarah Bonesta was the Chief Engineer aboard the Gernsback," Jacob blinked. "She had a genius IQ. It must be the toxic food that did this to her."
Jacob speaking seemed to upset Devarah, and she clapped her hands over her ears, ducking her head a moment in the manner of a child struggling to make the Boogeyman go away. Puzzled by her behavior but able to see he clearly alarmed her, Jacob stepped back to give her room.
Only moments later he saw a shape in the trees, the lifted weapon. Reacting, he lunged and tackled Devarah out of the way just as an arrow sailed by and sunk into a tree. The pair crashed to the ground as Shepard set off a few warning shots into the air to scare off their attacker, and the impact had sent Devarah screaming and wailing in pain.
"It's all right," Shepard said now, her brown eyes intent through her face-plate as she finally got the woman to still.
"Sorry, s-s-sorry," the woman gasped, still cradling her arm as she wept, face contorted. "I d-didn't mean to be b-bad-"
Brows knitting Shepard looked at her. "You weren't…you weren't bad," she said. "Why do you think you were bad?"
Devarah sniffled, then blinked wetly. "What?"
"Why do you think you were bad?"
Bafflement was the only expression she donned. She shifted a little, gasping as she moved her broken arm carelessly. She gripped it and began to wail again as if she had just injured it.
"Keelah…I think she forgot she'd hurt it," Tali pointed out sadly. "That fast, and she's already forgotten what happened."
"Devarah, it's ok, you're safe," Shepard soothed again. "Do you know who is shooting at us?"
"Wh-what?"
"Shooting? Do you know who…" Shepard sighed in frustration, then drew the arrow out of her belt, showing it to her. "This. Do you know this?"
"Hunters," Devarah gasped, wide-eyed. "The Hunters…they are sick, they are angry. He made them leave, made them eat and leave…now they fight."
"He…who is 'he?'" Shepard pressed.
"He…there…but…but not there…" Her trembling finger pointed at Jacob, who blinked at her again as Shepard squinted.
"He…he looks like Jacob?"
"His face…there is his face but…but it's not," she stammered, then suddenly gripped Del's wrist, her trouble vanishing into eagerness once more. "She knows! She keeps all of it! We will see her!"
She got to her feet, holding her broken arm cradled against her side and tugging urgently on the commander's arm. "She knows!"
"Jie Jie?"
"Just a moment, Devarah," Shepard said gently before looking at Tali. "If she can lead us to the others we may be able to find out what's going on here. Jacob…I take it you look a lot like your father?"
"Been years since I've seen him, but yeah…Mom always said there was a strong resemblance," he replied, obviously troubled.
"Whatever's going on, she doesn't seem to like him much," Shepard murmured.
"You can say it," Jacob replied, frowning. "She's terrified of him. I mean, begging me not to punish her? The way she looks at me, like I'm about to beat her?"
"Come on!" Devarah urged again, no less frantic, giving Del's arm another pull. "She knows! She has all of it!"
"Looks like we're going to camp," Shepard said, giving the girl a reassuring gesture. "Hopefully there are some answers there. Ok, ok, Devarah, we're coming."
As they started to follow the former engineer she seemed satisfied, more than eagerly picking her way through the trees. They had not gone far when Kasumi reappeared. "Found a guide, I see," she commented, gesturing at the striding Devarah, who was still hugging her broken arm to her chest.
"Something like that. What did you find?" Shepard asked.
"There's a small camp less than a mile ahead. Seems she's taking you there. Woods are crawling with armed men, however."
"Firearms?"
"No, just bows and slings. They don't seem to be organized though, not really a cohesive group. I don't think they pose any real threat to us."
"All right. Devarah here says there's someone who 'knows' up in the camp so hopefully we can get a handle on the sit. Tali, radio up to the Normandy and let them know to get on the horn with the Alliance. If nothing else these people need evac and some serious medical treatment."
"Here…here…"
The data pad was old, battered. The woman crouching on the dirt floor of the cobbled together shelter beamed a vague, guileless grin as she urged it into Shepard's hand.
This was 'her', a woman Jacob swiftly identified as Christiana Hollis, the CMO of the Gernsback crew. Once a doctor with two advanced medical degrees, she had treated Devarah's broken arm by tying a vine around it and sprinkling dirt on top of that, before retrieving a small box hidden beneath some blankets that smelled like an old sheepdog.
As Hollis addressed Shepard, Tali and Kasumi moved over to Devarah's side, gently putting medi-gel on the bruised arm to at least numb her pain until it could get real treatment.
Devarah seemed fascinated with Tali's helmet, continually touching her face-plate with wonderment, leaving the quarian to gently but persistently dissuade her.
Meanwhile, Shepard was reading over the data pad, one of four that was stored in the box Hollis had retrieved. As she read, darkness began to move through her eyes. Passing the first pad to Jacob she took out another, then another, the shadow only sharpening into contained rage.
They were logs, maintained by the doctor as long as she was able before the decay had robbed her ability to write. She had retained enough sense to keep them hidden, though even she didn't know why she had done so now. Outlined in them were the details of the crash and the insanity that had happened afterward.
Finishing the last pad and passing it to Jacob, who looked simultaneously furious and horrified, Shepard reached out and gently put her hand on the doctor's shoulder, meeting her eyes. She asked only one question.
"Where is he now?"
The sun had brightened as the day had grown later. The crude deck overlooked a small bay fifty feet below, and in the light of the sun the water here looked more inviting blue than the slate gray it had at the wreck.
His beaming grin was almost angelic as Shepard stepped past him, leaning on the railing of that deck and drawing out a cigar. As she lit it, her eyes gleamed a reflection of that distant blue.
"I'll get you something nice when we get back to Alliance space, sweetheart," he said, his tone all charity. "In thanks for…what you had to put up with. I have to have some back-pay coming."
Silence was all that greeted him. A silence deep in its violence and deadly in its chill. Clearly, he was oblivious to it.
"Maybe I'll even take you to dinner," he offered. Shepard looked at him for the first time, turning to lean against the railing as she lifted a brow, drawing her cigar from her mouth and letting out a stream of smoke. Mistaking the look as interest, he pursed his lips a little in appreciation.
"If I'd known they made marines that looked as good as you, I'd have joined the Corps," he told her, reaching out and laying a hand on her waist.
It was only there for a breath, a brush. He felt the impact of her fist in his chin much more intently.
Fortunately, Chakwas had finally declared Shepard's hand healed before they were even in orbit around Aeia. Beautifully delivered to the point of his chin, the jab landed Acting Captain Ronald Taylor hard on the ground. Blinking away stars, he gaped at her as she tucked her smoke back in her teeth and sat down on his thighs, drawing her pistol and ramming the barrel up under his chin. He froze, eyes wide.
"Wh-what is this?" he asked.
"This is me about to exact a bit of justice for your crew," she said around her cigar. "Or should I say, your harem?"
"What are you talking about? What-"
Keeping her pistol beneath his chin, she tilted her head slightly. "Tali?"
The quarian walked across the deck, displaying a data pad with a firm jab of her hand. "This is what she's talking about, bosh'tet!"
"It's a crew log," Shepard said. "Understandable at first, restricting rations for the senior crew while the beacon was being repaired. But then you began to wonder, didn't you? You began to think, as they got simpler and simpler, more and more trusting. In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king, isn't that it? You could do whatever you wanted…and you did."
"It…it wasn't like that!"
"Then the safe food started to run out, even though you hoarded it all for yourself. Everyone else was simple or exiled…funny how all the exiled Hunters are men, isn't it? It was either stay here and lose your own mind or finally turn on that long-repaired beacon and whisk your way back off to the luxuries of Alliance space and pretend nothing happened here at all."
"You don't know what you're talking about!"
"Let me make myself plain," Del growled, leaning forward. "I'm going to cut you apart, sliver by sliver until you fucking beg me to shoot you."
He looked terrified a moment, before his face tightened in defiance. "You're insane! You don't have the guts!"
Shepard's grin was almost feral as she plucked the stogie from her mouth with her free hand. "Oh, I am insane," she told him. "And that makes me quite capable of a lot of…really fun things."
Extending her tongue, she quite pointedly pressed the cherry of her cigar to it, extinguishing it.
Taylor went pale.
Flicking the butt away Shepard rose, grabbing him by the shirt and hauling him back up to his feet. His shoulders came up hard against the wall of rock the deck was anchored too as she shoved him.
"Fortunately for you," Del snarled. "I'm not the judge and jury…not this time."
Tali stepped aside, her data pad still in hand, as Kasumi and Jacob stepped up on the deck, heading their way. The Boy Scout looked almost as murderous as Del did, and his father blinked at the sight of him.
"N-no…Jacob? No, not Jacob…"
"Why not me?" Jacob all but spat. "Do you think anyone else would excuse this?"
"You don't understand-"
"I think we understand a little too much," he retorted. "There isn't a name for the kind of evil you are…there isn't an excuse in the world for what you did here, what you did to your crew…people who trusted you!"
"I just…I didn't know what else to do!" Taylor blurted. "We didn't even know if we could get the beacon fixed. The crew was upset, I had to take a hard-line, keep control-"
"By throwing out any male that opposed you and keeping the women like pets?" Jacob fumed. Fists clenched he took a step closer, only to be stopped by Kasumi's soft grip on his elbow.
"What are you going to do to me?" Taylor asked weakly.
"Jacob, it's your call," Shepard said. She had one hand still plastered to the man's chest, the other holding her pistol firmly on his face. Directing her next words at her prisoner she snarled in a low voice, "You're fucking lucky I'm letting him make the call. You're no better than a goddamn rapist, a slaver…and I know a dozen goddamn ways to dispose of a corpse."
"Please…Jacob, please, don't let her-"
The younger man's jaw flexed before he looked at Shepard. "Commander…"
Stepping back a pace, Shepard lowered her pistol. Ronald blew out a breath of relief, fixing his eyes on his son.
"Thank you, oh…thank you Jacob. I always knew you were a better man than-"
His words broke off in a bark as Jacob planted a fist in his gut, folding him over and dropping him to his knees. "You are going back to Earth," he said firmly. "You're going to face what you did. Everybody is going to know about it…and you are going to pay for it!"
As he straightened, Shepard planted her boot on Taylor's ass, shoving him forward until he landed on his stomach. Straddling him again she wrenched his arms around behind him, catching a pair of cuffs that Kasumi tossed her and securing him.
"Shuttles will be landing any moment," Tali reported, checking her omni-tool. "Dr. Chakwas and her group can treat any outstanding injuries and we can get these people prepared for full evac. We have a colony ship, the Tungsten, that's willing to transport them back to Alliance space. ETA six hours."
Shepard was leaning on a tree at the edge of the small camp, watching as the erstwhile crew of the Gernsback were evaluated and loaded on to shuttles to be transported to the Tungsten. Ronald Taylor had already been taken aboard. He'd be spending the trip back to Earth in the brig, awaiting charges. Shepard had passed the data pads and other evidence to the captain, who had seemed just as horrified as they had about the situation.
Silent, Shepard didn't glance over as the form drew up to her shoulder, the young quarian folding her arms as she stood beside her friend and also regarded the camp.
"I cannot believe you put out your cigar on your tongue," Tali said at last, amusement in her voice. Del smirked.
"Doesn't hurt or cause any damage if you do it right," Shepard told her. "And it tends to freak people the fuck out, which was the idea."
"I thought he was going to lose control of his bodily functions," Tali agreed.
"Would have been the least the fucker deserved."
Still watching the activity in the camp, Del's brown eyes landed on Jacob and Kasumi, standing in the distance. The man still looked upset, understandably. Every inch of his posture spoke of tension, of fury. Kasumi had one hand on his arm and was talking to him, her posture more relaxed but intent, concerned.
"He was so angry," Tali said, following her gaze. "I mean, he had a really good reason but for a moment, I thought he might actually have told you to kill his own father. Would…you have done it had he asked you to?"
"No," Shepard said, then looked at the quarian. "Not that it matters. Jacob wouldn't have asked me to do that. Even if he was so furious as to want to kill the man, he'd have done it himself."
"Would you have let him?"
"No," Shepard reassured. "The last thing Jacob deserves is to be afflicted with such a worthless ghost."
"I'm sorry, Shepard."
The words punctuated the tink of a carafe against the edge of a mug, steaming black brew pouring in to fill it. Shepard gave her XO a weary, slanted little grin.
"Sorry for pouring me coffee? Miranda, that's one thing you never have to apologize for."
"Good to know," the Australian smiled slightly, setting the carafe down and lifting her own mug up in two hands, lightly blowing at the thin, lazy tendrils of pale gray that drifted up from it. "However that is not what I meant."
"What did you mean then?"
They were sitting in the mess, which was deserted save for them. Miranda rarely slept more than four or five hours in a night so the early hour was not unusual for her. Shepard only rarely popped her head in before 0600. Given that it was now just after 0430, the commander had clearly experienced less than an ideal night's rest.
Taking a sip, the black-haired woman set the mug down. "I did not think that you'd be fully up to the task," she admitted. "The mission, I mean. You were a hero, Shepard…and a good soldier, but I never dreamed that…well. That we'd be sitting here."
"Where are we sitting exactly?" Del asked, knowing full well the other woman did not mean her last sentence literally.
"On the cusp of the Omega 4 relay."
"We still need an IFF."
"I know, but I did not think even you could bring us this far," Miranda said. "I doubted you and your abilities. That is why I apologize. I was…I was mistaken, about you."
"Probably not as mistaken as you think. We've come a long way but we're not at the end of this yet. I could still royally fuck up the stew. But…thank you. I appreciate that."
"Honestly, Shepard, I wish you'd joined up with Cerberus sooner-" Miranda began, then immediately halted when she realized what she'd said. At the same moment, stone passed over Shepard's face.
"Sorry," Miranda colored. "I know…I know you're not with Cerberus. I just meant-"
"I know," Shepard replied with a sigh. "Honestly, Miranda, it baffles me why you are with them."
"Sorry?"
"You're intelligent, resourceful. You've seen what they do, what they're capable of. Why are you with them?"
"I believe in their ideals, Shepard," Miranda told her. "Their goals-"
"Are misguided," Shepard replied. "Don't get me wrong, I'm all for helping our own, but there's a line. The ends do not justify the means. Not their kind of means."
"I agree, they've made some mistakes…but they're few compared to the advances they've made, the things they've accomplished. They…what?"
Shepard was smirking faintly. Shaking her head, she leaned back in her chair. "Just that you were saying 'they'…and not 'we'."
Miranda scowled and Del waved a hand. "Look. It's not my place to tell anyone how to live or what to believe in," she said. "But the long and short of it, Miranda, is that you're my friend. I know we didn't get along when we first started out on this 'little adventure' of ours but…well, you've kind of grown on me. Kind of like a plague."
Despite her scowl, Miranda couldn't help a faint huff of amusement, even as she rolled her eyes. "Lovely image."
"Isn't it? At any rate…I think you sell yourself short. I think that the Illusive Man sees you as nothing but just another weapon in his arsenal, a devotee he can cast aside…and you deserve better than that. A fuck of a lot better."
Only a few months ago, Miranda would have immediately dismissed what Del had just said. Cerberus had given her everything. A purpose, resources, protection for her sister, something real to cling to. Until the Lazarus project had begun, Miranda had never had reason to doubt anything about her chosen path. Her faith and resolve had remained unshaken.
Having the Spectre on board, however…working with her so closely…it was as if a new light had been shone upon everything she had thought. Did the Illusive Man actually value her or did he see her as he saw Shepard…just a tool, one he was more than willing to discard when she'd outrun her use to him?
Shepard waved her fingers slightly with a sigh. "Now it's my turn to be sorry, Miranda."
"No, it's…it's all right, Shepard. I'll leave you to your breakfast."
She rose with her empty tray, the commander watching her silently as she went to discard it and then vanished into her office, before lowering her gaze back to her coffee with a sigh.
"Thug?"
The slope leading down from the athenaeum shifted under her boots as Eír hurried down it after the krogan, her brother not even sparing a glance as he walked.
"Thug, wait!"
A scream, a familiar voice, and Eír turned around, horrified to see the building behind her in flames, riots of orange licking up toward a maniacal sky.
"Shrive!"
Struggling to remount the slope as the firm dirt transformed into sand, Eír could hear herself sobbing. "Shrive!"
"You should have listened to me," Gellian's voice broke through, the cadaverous woman strapped to her grotesque leash, the Amazonian death-head figure of Shepard squatting nearby.
As Eír looked, Shepard stood and strode her way, long fingers reaching out and grasping her shoulders tightly, lifting her off her feet. Her breath was the wash of the grave.
"You should have listened… Eír," she hissed, her face melting as she laughed. "Eír."
"Eír!"
Lavender eyes popped open, a rushing wave of blue fire filling the air. Revolting, the asari surged off the bed with a primal scream, biotics roaring in a blast of fury.
Her hands closed over soft skin, gripping arms as they slammed into a wall. Teeth bared she prepared to tear her enemy apart, to turn Del Shepard into little more than a bloody slush.
Then a voice cried out in pain, and she blinked. Warm tan skin was replaced by blue. Dark, violent brown eyes by soft azure.
Azure lit with fear and pain.
Air came back in a rush, and weakly Eír stumbled back, gaping in dumbfounded misery. Shrive collapsed down to her knees, tendrils of purple blood spilling from her nose and lip. Cold, stark reality flooded into Eír's mind and she began to tremble, aghast.
"Sh-Shrive?" she asked in a tiny, tentative voice, falling into a sit as her knees seemed to give out. Shifting, she crawled forward, tears flooding her vision.
Asleep…she must have been asleep, having a nightmare. Shrive had tried to wake her, and Eír had…
"Shrive…?" she half sobbed, her hand shaking as she reached out toward the other asari, not quite actually touching her.
The huntress sat half-crumpled on the floor, one hand braced on the ground, the other pressed to her head. Her eyes were half-lidded, dazed, and the woman was clearly in pain. As Eír reached out toward her Shrive unconsciously recoiled back, and the younger asari's hand snapped away.
With an agonizing sob, Eír bolted to her feet and fled the room.
"Eír?" Shrive's rough call punctuated the dazed huntress stumbling to her own feet. Her head spun and she mopped the blood from her lip as she weaved out into the living space just in time to see Eír disappear through the front door and out into the darkness.
Limping out into the warm night, trying to steady her spinning head, Shrive's brow creased in worry as she called out into the dark. "Eír? Wait! Eír!"
No response, and nothing to see but the heavy night past the wan pools of the colony lights. Turning, Shrive retreated back into the house, quickly gathering up some more sensible clothes, struggling to steady herself, ignoring pain.
There was no telling what Eír would do out in the night by herself, consumed with guilt and fear at what she had done.
Reaching the door again, the huntress stumbled down the small steps and to level ground, her voice ragged, eyes heated as she once more called into the unfeeling night. "Eír! Stop, please! Come back!"
Silence.
"Eír!"