The Battle of the Citadel, as it came to be called, resulted in the uplifting of humanity. Because the Arcturus Fleet had been instrumental in saving the Council, it was awarded the prestigious Palladium Star, proclaiming it's gallantry in battle. Even better, humanity had been honored with a seat on the Council. Hannah had been pleased to learn that Jane recommended David Anderson for the position over Donnel Udina. Hannah agreed heartily, her run-in with Udina having left her disillusioned as to the man's ability to put the needs of humanity above himself. Anderson would commend the value of action to a council all too often passive in its approach to running the galaxy.

Hannah had hoped that Jane would be given leave and they could spend some time together, maybe vacationing back in Michigan, but Jane rejected any suggestion that she take a sabbatical. Jane was convinced these Reapers would come soon and that no time could be wasted. Even though Hannah tried to argue she needed time to rejuvenate, Jane allowed herself only a couple days of rest at the Citadel, then she and her team sailed back out into the galaxy to find a way to stop the Reapers. Hannah had committed to Jane's cause, vowing that once her ship was ready, she'd be there to assist as needed. Hannah had assumed the Alliance would make preparing for these Reapers top priority.

However, a month after the attack on the Citadel, her promise seemed unlikely to be fulfilled. Potent fear had overtaken the galaxy after the Battle of the Citadel. The political core of the galaxy, trusted as a center of stability, had been brought to its knees by one Spectre and his geth army. People began to doubt the ability of the Citadel Council and its fleet to protect its member races. The Council tried to quell these fears, partially by pointing out that that the humans brought along their impressive firepower when they were granted a seat on the Council. This, however, did little to calm the galaxy. Many aliens had been affronted that relative newcomers on the galactic stage had been granted a position on the Council when their races had waited for years for such a privilege. Vitriol towards humanity poured out of the news on a daily basis, its role in the Battle of the Citadel minimized as loud prejudicial voices rang out against it.

Of course, this caused turmoil in the Alliance Parliament. Terra Firma pushed its paranoid agenda, declaring that humanity sitting on the Citadel Council was collusion with an enemy, that humanity would be manipulated for the Council's purposes rather than the other way around. Anderson was slandered for taking the position. The Parliament ended up split down the middle. It spent its days arguing over what humanity's focus should be now that it had been promoted in the galactic sphere.

In the midst of all the petty squabbles both in human and alien space, the threat of the Reapers had been laid to the side. The two times Jane had been interviewed, she'd been vocal about her visions and the coming threat. The second interview had been followed by the opinion of a psychiatrist who doubted the stability of the human Spectre's mind. It didn't help that the Council had derided Jane's warnings, contending that the attack on the Citadel had been the lone act of Saren and his geth, that Sovereign was simply a geth construct. They remained reserved on the subject of the Reapers, not wanting to cause widespread panic at a time when the galaxy needed to rebuild trust in its leaders. Anderson hadn't shared their opinions, but they'd kept him out of the limelight, away from reporters or any ears willing to listen to his side of the issue.

Jane had been outraged, as had Hannah, at the way she was treated by the Council. But she'd had little choice in the matter. She was still a Spectre under the authority of the Council and had been sent out by them to clear out the last pockets of geth that still threatened the galaxy. Hannah knew the Council's reason wasn't so much their desire for the geth to be utterly defeated, but that they wanted Jane out of the way where her voice couldn't be heard.

Hannah looked down at the calendar on her data pad. She'd been checking off the days one by one. In three more months, her ship would be ready and she'd have leadership over the flagship of the Arcturus Fleet. It was killing her to wait day by day; she felt wasted sitting around on Arcturus Station. She'd managed to go out with friends, catch up on her reading and review candidates for the crew of her new ship, but she wasn't busy enough to fill her days.

Hannah checked off the latest day, then rubbed her eyes. It was 0300. She'd awoken from a deep slumber, but hadn't been able to go back to sleep. So she checked her e-mail, read a little, then perused her calendar. Now she leaned back on her love seat and turned on the television. A commentator was on, discussing rumors of the supposed Reaper threat.

"Here's the problem," the man with the long beard and graying curly hair was saying, "These Reapers that Commander Shepard said were coming, where are they? We haven't seen anything. Now, maybe some people don't like the Citadel Council, but they seem to know everything about the galaxy. I mean, humanity certainly doesn't. These cultures are hundreds of years older than us. If they say there's no threat, there's no threat."

Hannah angrily slapped the remote control panel, turning off the television. If she listened to those lies, she'd just find herself wanting to punch through her apartment wall. She yawned loudly. Maybe she should just go back to bed and try and sleep. Or maybe…Hannah lay down on the love seat. Maybe she'd just forgo the steps to her bedroom and crash right here.

A chime rang through the living room. Hannah sat up and stared at the door. Who would come calling at this hour? It was true that those on stations didn't keep as regimented schedules as those planetside, but the earliest hours on station virtually came to a standstill as people took to their beds. Hannah walked to the door and pressed the panel to converse with whoever was outside. She didn't feel comfortable opening the door without ascertaining an identity first.

"Yes?"

"It's Steven."

"Oh." Hannah pushed the panel and the door slid open. "Steven, what's up?"

Steven met her puzzled gaze with serious blue eyes. "I take it I didn't wake you up."

Hannah shook her head. "No, I couldn't sleep. Come on in."

Steven passed by her and sat down on the love seat. "I need to talk to you." He held his Navy hat in his hands, fiddling with the brim.

The way he spoke caused Hannah to feel uneasy. Steven's tone proclaimed, "I have to tell you something I don't want to." For a second, Hannah wondered if her promotion to captain had somehow been revoked, but she didn't think Steven would traipse over to her apartment in the middle of the night to tell her that. She sat down next to Steven on the love seat and angled back against the armrest. "So, what do you need to tell me?" Her heart thumped in anticipation.

"You know Jane was sent on a mission to root out the last of the geth forces."

Hannah felt blood pumping through her ears. She put a hand to her neck. "Yes…"

"Her ship was attacked by an unknown enemy. Most of the crew made it out in escape pods." Steven paused, then uncharacteristically put a hand on Hannah's knee. "Jane didn't."

Hannah didn't react. She'd already intuited the news Steven had walked all this way in the middle of the night to bring her. Her mind had become fuzzy, clouded with emotion welling up to the surface. "What happened to her?" she asked almost inaudibly.

"She went back to save her pilot. She got him in an escape pod, but the ship took a hit then that separated her from him. She ejected the pod so he'd be saved."

Hannah nodded slowly. To her dying moment, Jane had put others above herself. She was a rare woman in a selfish galaxy.

Steven tilted his head at Hannah, trying to read her emotions. "We haven't found her body. It may have…burned up in the atmosphere of the planet nearby. I wanted to tell you before you heard it on the news in the morning. It's bound to be all over the television once word gets out."

"Thank you." Hannah's voice came out quiet and tense.

Steven's eyes now projected concern. "Hannah, you can talk to me. I'm here for you."

"Thank you," Hannah repeated, not looking directly at Steven. She was chanting a mantra to herself: Don't lose it. Don't lose it. What she wanted was for Steven to get out, to leave her alone. She didn't want to see anyone right now.

"Do you want me to stay and…"

"No," she spoke shortly, with certainty.

"Okay." Steven stood up and walked to the door, but looked back at her before he left. "Call me, please, if you need to talk."

Hannah nodded once. Steven opened the door. The moment it shut behind him, Hannah pulled her knees up to her chest and sat on the love seat, thinking. Jane was gone. And like Daniel, she'd gone unexpectedly, no chance to say good-bye. It was cruel and unfair. She'd only ever loved one man and he'd been taken from her. She'd only had one child and she'd been taken, too. It wasn't right.

Suddenly, not able to contain the harsh beating of her heart anymore, Hannah stood, her anger exploding. She crossed the room and picked up a vase with a fresh bouquet of flowers she'd bought to brighten up her apartment. She swung her arm back, then threw it across the room as hard as she could, watching it shatter against the wall. Water dripped down the wall, following the broken shards.

"It's not fair!" Hannah yelled from the depths of her pain. "It's not fair!" Then the tears came; she couldn't hold them back any longer. Just as with Daniel all those years ago, she heard the unearthly sobs of a life broken to pieces. She slid down to the floor and pulled herself into a tight ball, not caring where she was or what she was doing as grief gripped her heart and strangled her lungs.

Jane, why Jane? She'd been so good. Why take her? Why? No answer came to Hannah's questions but the silence of her apartment. Why did good people die? There were so many others that deserved to be taken from the galaxy, but not her daughter and not her husband. Hannah felt an angry growl rush out of her throat and into the room, then more tears came whether she wanted them or not.

Hannah didn't know how long she lay on the floor. After awhile, the tears subsided, but she clung to herself, doubled over, gripping her knees with all her strength. She felt that if she moved even an inch, she'd break and the world would end. So when the chime rang again in her apartment, annoyance flared up within her. She didn't get up. She didn't care who it was. She wasn't going to let them in.

In a couple minutes however, the door slid open of its own accord. "Hannah?" a tentative voice asked.

Hannah forced herself out of her tight ball to a sitting position, not wanting to be found in such a state by Lucas. Her friend stepped into the living room, then sighted her sitting on the floor, knees pulled inward to her chest, not looking at him.

"How'd you get in?" Hannah asked, avoiding the subject of Jane. She didn't want to hear platitudes of sympathy, no matter how many good intentions they came with.

Usually, Lucas would have smiled and bragged. This time he spoke reservedly. "I'm a tech specialist. It was easy to hack the door lock." He walked over and knelt in front of Hannah. "I heard about it on the news. Hannah, I'm sorry."

Hannah still refused to look at him. "Go away, Lucas."

"You can't be alone now. Just, maybe I can sit with you…"

Now Hannah snapped her head up, eyes of rage boring through Lucas. "Leave me alone! Now!"

Lucas pulled back. "Alright, if that's what you want." He stood up and walked back to the door. Hannah heard it swoosh shut. Wrath overtook her mind. She stood up quickly and rushed to her bedroom, flinging open her closet and pulling out the modified sniper rifle Keta had left behind. She threw it over her shoulder and stomped through the apartment and out the door, seeking the one thing she thought would clear her mind and throw off her anguish.

Hannah perceived it was early morning as she walked, probably not even 0500 yet. She made her way to the military installation, heading straight for its training rooms. She plunged into the shooting range, barely containing the anger boiling in her body. The range was empty. If it hadn't been, she probably would have ordered everyone out. Now she didn't have to waste her breath or energy. She found a stall and gripped the earmuffs, plunking them on her head and over her ears. She took aim at the electronic target and fired a direct shot to the head. She kept firing, the rifle pinging accurately each time, exactly where she wanted the projectiles to go. But she didn't feel better. Her score rose and rose, but it made no difference to her emotions.

Why isn't this working?! Hannah shouted inside. When Daniel had died, shooting had been therapeutic for both Jane and her. Now, it didn't make a dent in her pain. Hannah dropped the rifle and yanked off the ear muffs. This exercise was useless. She swiveled on her heel, not knowing what to do next, when she spied the gym next door through the window of the shooting range. A punching bag hung listlessly in the corner. She left the range and headed straight for the bag.

When Hannah reached the corner, she thrust a rounding kick into the bag, sending it careening backwards. She then pummeled it with her fists, planted it with some more kicks and finally grabbed it around the middle, wanting to squeeze the life out of it. As she did, she shouted at the inanimate object.

"What do I have anymore? There's nothing left for me. Nothing!" It was then it hit her why shooting had accomplished nothing. She had no one to be strong for. When Daniel had died, his death had been tempered by her need to be there for Jane. But there was no one to be there for now; she only had herself, completely alone in an overwhelming galaxy.

She continued to beat the punching bag, making it the target of all the rage and heartbreak inside her. She punched and kicked until her arms and legs ached to the point she couldn't stand anymore. She fell to the floor, breathing rapidly, feeling the sweat pouring down her arms, legs and back. She braced herself on the floor with both her hands, trying to stand, but unable to.

"Feel better?" she heard a voice say quietly. This time, she looked up. Lucas was there.

"You following me?" she spoke accusingly.

"I saw you leave your apartment with a gun. You bet I followed you."

"What? You think I'm going to kill myself?" Hannah spat out, her anger still rich despite the exhaustion in her limbs.

"I don't know, Red. People do those kinds of things when they're really upset."

"Well, I'm not going to kill myself, so you can leave me alone."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Hannah managed to stand up, propelled by her fury. She grabbed Lucas by the collar and shoved him forcefully against the gym wall. "Get out!"

"You want to fight me, I'll oblige," Lucas said sternly. "Just like old times. But I'm not leaving you alone in here."

Hannah stared into Lucas' eyes. He wasn't angry or affronted. He was worried for her. Good old Lucas, loyal as always. Hannah felt guilt wash over her mind and clear her head a little. She let Lucas go and backed up. She stood glaring at him, her breath still coming in short gasps. Lucas straightened, but didn't move away from the wall.

"What's it going to be? You want to fight?" Lucas asked.

Hannah shook her head and the tears came afresh, Hannah cursing their appearance. Lucas crossed the few steps between them and embraced her. She buried her head in his chest and cried, the tears mingling with her sweat, seeping into her mouth. She tasted the saltiness and bit her lip. When Daniel had died, she'd thrown off the tears by telling herself she had to be strong for Jane, become the single mother Jane needed. But what was she now?

"I have no one to be strong for anymore," she muttered. "Nothing to live for."

Lucas pushed her back and gripped her shoulders, staring into her face, his voice earnest. "Yes, you do. You're going to be strong for yourself."

Hannah shook her head. All she'd wanted all her life was to rise in the ranks, get to the top militarily. Now she realized that dream had been utterly selfish. What did her rank matter compared to her family? In truth, they had been the center of her world, not her military life. She knew living for herself would never satisfy her heart.

"You're not going to give up," Lucas stated, shaking her slightly. "You want to honor Jane, then you're going to carry on her fight. You know what they're saying on the news? They're saying that she was a good person, respected by all, but her visions of Reapers were her one flaw. They won't leave her alone, even in death."

Hannah felt indignation rise in her chest. They dared desecrate Jane's memory, now that she'd given her life helping them?

"Hannah," Lucas continued. "We've got to be ready for those Reapers. That's what Jane would want."

Hannah pushed Lucas' hands off her shoulders. "You're right. We'll be ready. When I get my ship, they won't know what hit them." She left Lucas' side and marched back over to the shooting range, picking up the sniper rifle, then headed to the door, a determined look on her face. Those Reapers had caused Jane's death. If it hadn't been for Sovereign indoctrinating Saren, none of this would ever have happened. When the Reapers arrived, they'd find another Shepard standing in their way.

A week later Hannah received a message in her in-box:

Captain Shepard, this is Liara T'Soni. I've wanted to write you for some time, but have been unable to find the right words. I decided to give up trying and write anyway. I am so sorry for your—our—loss. We all loved her, each in our own way. She made her team more than tools; we were her close friends. We've each dealt with her loss in different ways. My way is to find her. I wanted to let you know that I have not given up on your daughter. I will find her and bring her back. I thought you should know my plans since you're her mother and she is more your claim than mine. With my condolences, Dr. Liara T'Soni.

Hannah stared numbly at the screen. It was obvious Liara couldn't let go. The lack of a body had bothered Hannah as well, but only for a short while. Jane was gone, whether her body was found or not. Hannah tapped the screen to reply.

Dr. T'Soni, thank you for your message, but you don't need to find her. She's gone. We have to accept that. We need to fight the Reapers for her, not obsess over her body. I've let her go. You need to do the same. Captain Hannah Shepard.

Even as she reread the message, Hannah chided herself. She hadn't let Jane go yet—far from it. But she lied to force Liara to deal with the truth. Jane wasn't coming back. There was no use passing time clinging to idle hope. It was time for dealing with the present.

"Admiral Hackett will see you now."

Hannah looked up at Hackett's secretary, the blonde who'd been stationed at the Fuji before the Battle of the Citadel. She stood up and marched into Steven's office. As she did, she spoke to herself inside: The time for mourning is over. I want my revenge.

"Hannah, how are you?" Steven asked compassionately.

Hannah ignored his question. "Cut the preliminaries, Steven," she spat out, "and tell me how we're going to take down these Reapers."