Hannah leaned forward in the pilot's seat, pushing the Menari into the raging battle. She could only hope that the Crucible had made its target and linked up with the Citadel. She didn't know how much time she had left. She thrust the ship into the path of a Reaper surrounded by allied ships. As she careened towards the Reaper, she drew in a tight breath and pressed back into her seat.
"Daniel," she whispered. "I'm coming." She felt tears pouring down her cheeks. The Reaper grew larger and larger.
"Admiral," a halted voice sounded in her ear. "Admiral, I'm sorry." Hannah recognized Toureau's voice, shaky and human. She glanced to the side at Keta's view screen. Toureau was missing from engineering. So was the bomb.
"Toureau?" The girl couldn't be alive, could she? Am I already dead? Hannah wondered. Had the end come so fast she hadn't seen it? She glanced around the bridge, half expecting to see a ghostly Toureau standing behind her. When she saw no one, she stood up from the pilot's seat and moved to Keta's station, flipping through camera feeds. She finally found an image of Toureau in the hangar bay, a dark wound gaping in her middle. She was stumbling, dragging the Reaper device into the bay.
"I'm not going to let them win," Toureau's angry voice ground out. Hannah could hear her grunting as she pulled at the bomb. She'd reached a panel and began fiddling with it. "If you ever find out my parents are still alive, tell them I'm sorry."
"Toureau!" Intuiting Toureau's intentions, Hannah stabbed at Keta's station, searching vainly for some kind of override. The girl couldn't be thinking clearly. They could do this another way. Hannah stopped her frantic pecking when the hangar bay doors opened. She watched in horror as everything in the room was blown into space, including Toureau and the bomb.
Hannah turned back to the cockpit window. It was too late. She'd hit the Reaper in seconds. That was when it happened. As Hannah clutched the headrest of the pilot's seat, her knuckles white, sure her life was over, an electric red energy began to lick at the Reaper and suddenly, it broke into several pieces, flying violently apart. Hannah closed her eyes as the Menari skimmed through the debris, buffeted here and there. She lost her grip on the pilot's seat and was thrown across the bridge, rolling over the floor and slamming into a wall. She heard the confident voice of Steven urgently speaking in her ear.
"All fleets. Get to the rendezvous point."
Hannah pulled herself up and crawled back to the pilot's chair, amazed she was still alive. She ignored the pain in her side and punched the controls, turning the Menari around, launching it away from Earth. She felt a violent wave of turbulence and held onto the pilot's console, keeping her seat, praying she'd make it to the rendezvous point in one piece. Through the window, she could see she was in good company, Alliance ships by the hundreds all moving in the same direction.
When she reached the coordinates, she powered down the Menari, then placed a hand to her ear. "Shield! All Shield ships! I need rescue of escape pods immediately."
"We saw the pods jettison," Admiral Korralos' voice came through her comm. "Several ships pulled out to pick them up. As far as I know, your crew is safe."
Hannah breathed out a sigh of relief. She hadn't lost another crew. She didn't know if she could live with the loss of two crews on her conscience. It was hard enough dealing with one.
"What happened?" Korralos went on. "Communication from the Menari went dead and you changed direction,"
"I'll explain later," Hannah assured him.
"Certainly, Admiral."
Hannah put her hand to her comm. "Steven? Steven?"
"Admiral," Steven's voice came through.
"Did we win?"
"The Reapers are being destroyed, self-destructing."
"Jane?"
There was a long pause. Hannah gulped. "No word…but I'm sure she's responsible for the destruction. I'll let you know when we hear from her. Hackett out."
Hannah collapsed back in the pilot's seat. If they heard from her. Jane had most likely just given her life to save the entire galaxy. Hannah looked down at her abdomen and reflexively put her hand on it. Watching Keta the past few days had drawn her backwards in time, remembering what it was like to carry a child and raise her, infusing her with all your hopes and dreams. Every mother hoped her child would achieve a life of character and meaning. Had Jane achieved the pinnacle of her existence at the cost of her life? Maybe it had been Jane's destiny all along to die to the Reapers in order to save the galaxy. Pride swelled her heart as well as sadness. If Jane had paid the ultimate price, it had been worth it and she'd make sure the galaxy never forgot her sacrifice.
Hannah's thoughts and worries about Jane were soon set to the side as a whirlwind of activity consumed her now that the battle was over and the Reapers destroyed. First, the crew of the Menari shuttled back from the ships that had rescued the escape pods. Keta was the first to exit from the hangar, flying into Hannah's arms, embracing her in a tight hug, almost squeezing her to death. Hannah was a bit flabbergasted at the batarian's unusual action, but the reason was only too clear. Keta declared over and over how indebted she was to Hannah for saving not only her baby's life, but Lucas' as well. Lucas came after Keta, shaking Hannah's hand firmly and biting his lip.
"I should have stayed. It was great what you did, but I shouldn't have left you alone," he mumbled sheepishly.
Hannah had shaken her head at him. "Don't waste your life guilt-tripping yourself, Lucas. Get over it so you can be fully there for Keta and your daughter, okay?" What tension remained between Lucas and Hannah dissolved completely away with her words.
Lucas had grinned as a relaxed air returned to his posture. "Okay."
The next order of business was to comb the space over Earth and search for survivors. The amount of debris was overwhelming. Riley's small med bay was quickly filled with wounded. Any member of the crew, like Groom, who had any medical experience, was ordered to help out. Riley had also briefly checked Hannah out. Except for two large bruises, one on her back and one in her side, Hannah was fine.
Once Shield had been saturated with injured and could take on no more, Hannah turned her attention to the unenviable task of documenting deaths. Hannah, Keta and Lucas spent numerous hours tracking down ships. Confirming casualties was difficult—many of the dead had been blown up by Reapers leaving no remains to recover. The best they could do was add a ship to the MIA list and hope some definitive proof would either confirm another death or announce a miraculous survival.
Hannah found she couldn't relax. Every time she tried to sleep, nightmares haunted her. She was consumed with thoughts of Toureau, indoctrinated, committing suicide to save the Menari. Then there were the lists of deaths, most species' militaries cut by at least half, if not more. The crew of the Orizaba intruded often as she hadn't yet properly mourned its loss. And, of course, on the edges of her mind at all times hovered Jane. Hannah gave up sleeping. Even a light doze brought on thoughts of terror and anger and sorrow, emotions she wasn't ready to handle.
The day after the battle the Normandy was located, having landed on a moon and in need of repairs. Jane was not aboard. Steven informed Hannah that some of Jane's crew refused to believe she was dead and had gone to the Citadel to look for her. Hannah silently wanted to join them, but she held her peace. Not only did the Menari and Shield need her now, inside Hannah thought the search worthless. She had already convinced herself Jane hadn't made it. Every time Jane came to mind she imagined Jane and Daniel getting reacquainted. The image staved off her dissolution into deep mourning. Not now, she told herself. Don't lose it yet.
The second day after the battle, Anderson's body was recovered from the Citadel. Hannah took the news hard. She grieved inwardly for the man she respected, a father figure for Jane when she needed it. He had been a good man, well loved. The Alliance plummeted deeper into sorrow at the news of his loss, especially because Anderson had been credited with saving what was left of Earth. Hannah's one consolation was knowing that Anderson had been on the Citadel. If he had been there, maybe Jane hadn't died alone. Maybe he had been with her when the end came. Both Keta and Lucas tried to talk to Hannah that day, pull her out of her apparent lack of emotion. They tried to push her to talk about Jane, but she didn't oblige. She still couldn't go there. There was too much to be done to wallow in her own personal sorrow.
On the third day, Hannah noted that some semblance of order had returned to the fleets. Lists of alive and dead were becoming more trustworthy. Debris was being hauled and removed from Earth space. Most of the fleets had stayed, wanting to honor those lost by seeing the restoration of the space of above Earth through. Steven had called for a rest and memorial the next day to give everyone a break from the carnage. He wisely knew living beings couldn't dwell in death for so long and persevere if they didn't have time to acknowledge it, face it and let it go. Hannah dreaded the next day. She didn't want to deal with Jane's death. It was much easier throwing herself into duty. But she also acknowledged she was petering out. She needed sleep and she couldn't get it. Soon, she'd lose it completely.
In the early morning hours of the fourth day, Hannah made for her bunk, ostensibly to get some sleep, knowing inside her attempt was only a feint. She'd lay on her bunk and peruse more data coming in on Shield.
"Hannah," she heard a voice call out to her.
Turning, she saw Lucas following her. "Yes? What is it?"
"I just wanted to talk."
Hannah punched open the door to her quarters. "Good night, Lucas." She made to shut the door, but Lucas stepped resolutely through. Hannah sighed. "I really need to sleep."
"You can stop pretending in front of me. We both know you aren't sleeping."
"Lucas, I can't…"
"You're killing yourself by not talking about it."
Hannah sighed and sat down on her bunk, then fixed Lucas with exhausted eyes. "I can't talk about it. Not yet."
"You lost your ship, Toureau…Jane. It's too much for any of us to handle, but you especially," Lucas said, leaning against the wall.
"I have to handle it my way right now. And my way is not to go there."
"Hannah…"
"Have you read the latest casualty list?" Hannah interrupted.
Lucas sighed. "No. Reading those makes it worse."
Hannah reached over to her night side stand, turned on her data pad and stood, walking over to Lucas. "Read those names."
Lucas read slowly. "Tevos, Valern, Sparatus…The Citadel Council."
"Their bodies were recovered today. Do you know what this means?"
Lucas shook his head.
Hannah faced him squarely, her face grim. "It means the galaxy has no leadership. Chaos has already descended and it's going to get worse. People only want to survive and they're going to fight for it. We need strong leaders, people willing to step up." Hannah put a hand on Lucas' shoulder. "I can't afford to break down now. Not when so much needs to be repaired. Now, I'd like to try and rest, okay?"
Lucas begrudgingly walked back to the door, but paused before leaving, sending Hannah a short, compassionate backward glance. "You'll have to deal with it sometime," he muttered quietly, then left.
As Hannah laid down on her bunk, she exhaled a loud breath. What she had said was only too true. The galaxy was in a mess. It would take a long time to mold the bedlam back into some kind of order. The Reapers may have lost the war, but they'd won battles that would leave marks on the races for centuries to come. But what Lucas had said was true, too. Sometime, somewhere in the future, she'd be forced to face the truth head on.
As usual, Hannah drifted in and out of an unsatisfying, dozing sleep. Images of Toureau shot through the gut and sucked into space assaulted her. The crew members of the Orizaba taunted her, apparitions of those who had given their lives at Arcturus. Jane, coming unbidden as Hannah's mind conjured up speculative images of her final moments. If only she could have been by Jane's side. If only they could have passed on together.
After a few hours, Hannah rose, tired of fighting the battle for sleep. She flipped on her data pad, scanned through several new e-mails from various Shield admirals and washed her face in her sink with ice cold water, trying to force some kind of energy into her body. She finished and then left her room heading for the bridge.
When she got to the bridge, Lucas greeted her. "Get any sleep?"
Hannah eyed him wearily.
"I'm guessing no."
Hannah ignored him and walked to a console, skimming over any new orders that had come in.
"Five minutes until the memorials start."
Hannah kept her eyes on the console. The different races were planning memorials all across the fleets on various ships to honor the fallen.
"You going to the Normandy?"
Hannah shook her head. She'd been informed the Normandy would have its own private ceremony for Jane, add her name to its memorial wall. She'd been told she could come, but she'd already decided to stay on the Menari. Seeing Jane's name placed on a wall of death would make it all too final.
"Keta's not going to any of the memorials, either. Baby's too active and she's uncomfortable."
"I should go see her," Hannah said, beating a retreat from the bridge, unwilling to let Lucas continue to hint that she take some time and reflect on Jane's death.
When Hannah reached Keta's quarters, she knocked lightly rather than sounding the chime. She didn't want to disturb the batarian if she was resting. The door slid open. Hannah stepped through to find Keta in a chair, tapping away on her omni-tool.
"What do you need?" Keta asked.
"Just wanting to see how you are."
"Have a seat."
Hannah sat down across from Keta in an easy chair. "How's the baby?"
"She's ready to see the world, I think," Keta said, shutting down her omni-tool. She rubbed both hands over her belly.
Hannah felt an unexpected rush of jealously surge through her mind. Keta was just starting out as a mother, about to face the joy of bringing a life into this world. Hannah was at the other end, coming to terms with the fact that the life she sustained for nine months had taken her last breath.
Hannah stood. She shouldn't have come here. This wasn't helping at all. "Well, if you're alright…"
"I'm sorry about Jane," Keta said, her tone cautious. "We all owe her our lives. We'll never forget her."
"Thanks," Hannah muttered, forcing a grim smile and exiting the room. She marched through the hallways of the Menari for a time, not sure where to go or what to do. She didn't want time off. Curse Steven for making her take a break. She had just made it to her quarters again and was debating whether to hide away alone or find crew to keep her company, maybe go to the mess, when a voice spoke into her ear.
"Admiral?"
"Yes," Hannah answered, recognizing Bania, the new communications officer, a batarian.
"Admiral Hackettt is asking to speak to you urgently."
Good. Hopefully he'd found some work for her to do and was going to let her off the hook. "Put him through."
"Hannah?" she heard Steven ask. A slight tremble in his voice worried her. She'd never known Steven to sound anything less than confident.
"What is it?"
"I've sent a shuttle over to pick you up. I want you on my ship."
Hannah's brow knit in concern. "Why?"
"Are you sitting down?"
Hannah's heart skipped a beat. She knew why he was calling. "You found her body."
"Not exactly."
"Just tell me straight up, Steven." Had they found her dog tags without a body? Had she been so mutilated and destroyed that nothing was left?
"Hannah, she's not dead. We found her. She's alive. She's broken and bruised and horribly injured, but she's not dead, not yet."
Hannah felt her knees go weak. She leaned against the door to her quarters and then slid down to the floor, trying to breath.
"You still there?"
Hannah spoke in a whisper. "Where…how…"
"She was still on the Citadel, hidden away where the Crucible and Citadel merged. I credit members of her crew. Two of them especially wouldn't give up looking for her."
"When can I see her?"
"That's why I'm sending the shuttle. She's being treated on my ship by the best doctors we've got right now. Get to the hangar."
"Yes. Of course."
"See you soon. Hackett out."
Hannah pushed herself off the ground, stumbling like a drunken woman to the hangar bay, waiting for Steven's shuttle. She put her hand to her ear. "Keta?"
"Yes," she heard Keta's voice.
"I'm going to be off ship for a while."
"Hackett?"
"Yes…but…Jane's alive."
She heard a gasp of breath and there was a long pause, then, "Go hold your daughter."
"I will." Hannah dropped her hand from her ear. "I will," she whispered again, her arms aching as she pictured getting to hold Jane, an action she thought she'd never have the chance to take again.
Hannah felt numb when she greeted Steven after she disembarked onto his ship. Everything felt surreal, like this was a dream, too good to be true. Steven led her to the med bay, preparing her along the way by describing Jane's injuries: a collapsed lung, ruptured spleen, multiple rib fractures, a concussion and various cuts and bruises all over the rest of her body. It had taken one mighty fight for her to manage to get onboard the Citadel. Hannah listened, trying to prep herself to see her daughter again, both worried and overjoyed at the same time.
When they reached the med bay, an asari was just leaving. Hannah recognized her face, even though she'd only met her once: Liara T'Soni, one of Jane's close friends. The asari stopped, smiled gently and grasped Hannah's right hand. "Admiral Shepard…I…It's a miracle."
Hannah patted her arm, not knowing quite what to say. Their eyes met and Hannah read in Liara's tender gaze deep care for Jane. She remembered how Liara hadn't given up on Jane when she had died the first time. "I never thanked you for recovering her body."
Liara smiled. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know I found her after my e-mail. I didn't want to…hurt you further with false hope."
"I understand," Hannah answered, squeezing the asari's arm.
"They're about to wake her. They've been repairing her injuries, stabilizing her. It's a good time to see her."
Any time was a good time, Hannah thought to herself.
"I'm headed back to the Normandy to inform our crew. I expect they'll want to come over immediately. I will try and tell them she is with her mother, to give you some time alone."
"Thank you." Liara nodded to Hannah and departed. Hannah turned to the med bay. Steven walked in with her as they entered the outer lounge of the bay first. The moment they did so, a turian who had been sitting down stood and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Hannah also recognized this crew member although they had never spoken: Garrus Vakarian.
"Admirals," he spoke calmly, belying his nervous action.
"Vakarian," Steven nodded. He turned to Hannah. "I think it will be best if I leave you alone. This is family time." He put an encouraging hand on her shoulder, then left the lounge. Hannah faced Garrus from across the room.
"Did you find her?"
Garrus shook his head and his mandibles fluttered. "But I was there soon after. Liara and I accompanied the soldiers looking for her."
Hannah nodded, remembering Steven mentioning two of Jane's crew that had refused to give up on her.
Garrus tilted his head towards the bay. "They said she'll be awake for visitors soon. You should see her first. I talked to her when they found her."
Hannah stared into Garrus' eyes. His nerves were not just over Jane's condition. He was petrified of meeting her. She walked over and placed a reassuring hand on his left forearm.
"I know she loves you."
Garrus blinked a couple times. "I…uh…I didn't think she told you about us."
"She didn't," Hannah admitted. "Not willingly. I kind of, asked her some questions when she wasn't aware of it."
"Ah," Garrus said, obviously not sure what Hannah referred to.
"The point is, it was clear to me she had deep feelings and attraction for you."
Garrus' mandibles flared outward and he opened his mouth in what Hannah took to be a smile. Years ago, Hannah had pondered who Jane would ultimately give her heart to. She had never considered a turian. She didn't know Garrus, his character or his intentions. The mother bear within her came alive again.
"She loves you, but do you truly love her? Or is this a fling?" Hannah asked seriously. "Because Jane isn't a toy to be used and thrown aside."
Garrus shook his head vehemently at the description. "No, no, I definitely don't think of her that way. I mean, it's not like I thought I would ever end up with a human, but…circumstances come your way and the impossible becomes…possible."
"So you love her?"
Garrus let out a soft breath. "I gave her a ring."
Hannah took a step back and cocked her head. "An engagement ring?"
"I think that's what it's called," Garrus said. "The vids mentioned that for humans a ring made a relationship official. I held onto it until after the battle. I thought that might somehow guarantee she came back."
Hannah felt her eyes misting slightly. "Well she has come back."
Garrus' eyes shifted, looking into the med bay windows. "Yes, but in what form? She's hurt, physically, mentally. How do you come back the same when you've faced all this death and carnage and pain?"
Hannah read in Garrus' eyes a love and compassion she'd seen before: in her own husband's face. Garrus' love was genuine. She reached up and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked down at her. "She'll make it. She won't let this destroy her. It will make her better, stronger, wiser. In life, you only have two choices: you keep going or you give up. Shepards don't give up." Hannah knew she spoke to herself as much as Garrus, trying to convince herself Jane would surmount the ugly circumstances foisted upon her.
Garrus bobbed his head. "I see where Shepard gets her strength from."
A short cough sounded behind them. Hannah turned to see a doctor. "Sorry to interrupt. She's awake. I don't want to keep her out of sedation for long and we don't want to crowd her. One of you may see her."
Hannah felt a hand on the small of her back push her forward. "Go see her," Garrus insisted. Hannah mouthed a silent thank you and followed the doctor into the med bay.
When the doctor pulled back the curtains surrounding Jane's bed, Hannah swallowed a hard knot in her throat and fought the impulse to throw herself onto her daughter. Jane sat propped up in the bed, covered in bandages and tubes. What wasn't covered boasted multiple cuts and bruises. Yet her eyes were alive, dull, but alive nonetheless, staring at her mother.
"They're gone? Really?" Jane spoke in a strained, harsh whisper.
Hannah nodded. "Yes, gone."
Jane clenched her teeth. "They had to die. They'd taken so much from us…from me. Kaidan, Thane, Legion…Anderson." Tears appeared in Jane's eyes. Hannah's heart broke. Her daughter had won and yet lost. She'd lost her friends, people she loved. Like Hannah, she'd pushed through, never having the luxury of time to think about all that had been taken from her. But now that it was all over, the grief was killing her. Jane's tears spilled over and ran down her face. She tried to raise a hand to brush them away, but groaned as she did so. Hannah rushed to her side and used her own hands, wiping at her daughter's cheeks.
"I know, I know," Hannah said, her own emotion breaking through. The Reapers had taken her ship, her crew, Toureau and Jane more than once. Hannah and Jane had been deeply wounded by the Reapers, their destruction leaving two broken women in their wake torn apart by loss. Hannah felt her own tears trickle down her face. She leaned over and embraced Jane tenderly, pausing momentarily to kiss her daughter on the forehead. She gulped and trembled holding Jane tightly, then spoke through her crying. "But we have each other. We didn't lose each other."
She felt Jane's body shake, racked by deep weeping. How long, Hannah wondered, will it take us to recover? How long to defeat the war against our own mourning?