AN: One more warning, this story is structured out of chronological order. Each chapter follows the character who's name is in the title. There are two main narrative story lines – one for Jane and one for John, but there will be intermediate chapters focusing on other characters and/or other time periods.

Chapter 2. John: Pick up the Pieces

It was the Thresher Maw! Terrible screeching noise filled the air. The centipede-like body coiled wounding up before the strike. They were running, running for cover, but it was too far. One by one the monster had snatched his men. It ripped them apart flinging body parts across the field. They were supposed to be under his command, his protection! They were running. Only two of them left.

Rushing past the barracks and temporary settlement buildings – those were not safe – they ran with all their might feeling the air burning in their lungs. Finally the safety of solid, deep rock formation. The ridge reached as far as the eye could see. The marine next to him slaps him on the shoulder and removes her helmet.

The scarlet hair flows rustled by the wind.

Jane? No... You wasn't there... They separated us.

But instead she smiles to him one of those impossibly adorable smiles. The freckles give her a mischievous, devilish look. It's like those sparks of fire have a life of their own. She starts running towards him, shoulder length hair flowing free against regulations.

Why is he suddenly so far away? He starts running himself. John is running with all his strength, but the distance doesn't change. There's something behind her... Something enormous!

"Jane! Look out!"

The look of utter horror on her face. She doesn't need to look back to know what it is. The jaws are falling down in a rush of screeching. She is reaching towards him, holding her hands up. The horrible sound of breaking bones, ripping armor and flesh makes him nauseous. Covered in blood and guts the sharp, jagged edge of the Maw's tongue is sticking out of her stomach. The agony in her green eyes, the dark blood flowing out of her mouth, the weak hands grabbing at the sharp bone in a desperate attempt to get it out...

John wants to look away, run to her, away from her, crush the overgrown worm into bloody dust with his bare fists – all at the same time – but all he can do is stare helplessly, suspended in his terror. His vision is bleary, clinically he notices the tears clouding his vision.

"Johnny!" the sound of her voice is wrong. It's young, too young.

He takes a step back. There is no Maw. His sister is... is... oh, god, no...

Janie is small, jangly mess. Her hair is messy and torn, her face is covered with blood and dirt. Her armor is gone, casual clothes are disheveled, a sleeve is missing form her hoody. She is sixteen again. A tall batarian slaver is holding her in a tight grip across her middle. He's snarling right in her face.

Janie is screaming, trying to get out of his iron grip, wildly kicking with her legs, shoving, biting and scratching. The batarian pulls out a knife and holds it high. Jane screams louder.

John tries to reach for his gun, but there is none. He's in his shorts and a baggy shirt, there's dirt everywhere. His arms are scrawny like the years of harshest training regiments did not happen at all. He is sixteen again.

And his foot is broken. Loosing his balance he falls on his face feeling the moisture and coolness of winter forest. He lifts his head and sees many more batarian slavers coming trough the tree lines from all directions. They aim their weapons at him, pull out their knifes.

"No! This is not how it happened!" he screams at them.

"Johnny! You said it's gonna be alright! You promised!"

"He lied to you, huh, kid?" the batarian holding Jane is snarling the worst mocking snarl possible. "He couldn't protect you and now he gets to see you die."

"No..." John whispers. This could not be happening. Batarian turns to him.

"Alright, kid, if that's what you want. How about you die and leave her with us? We'll have lots of fun with your girlfriend here!"

"What?" hew watches, stupefied, as the slaver pulls out his long tongue and licks her cheek slowly. Janie's face is full of disgust, she yelps in pain as the harsh like sandpaper tongue is leaving a trail of bloody marks.

The golden beam pierces the sky striking all around him and John can not breathe, he's convulsing and thrashing on the ground. The torture is unbearable, it's like a giant invisible hand is squeezing his body out of all the air. A scream filled with horror reaches his ears non the less.

"Johnny, no! You promised!" it changes, the voice is older, lower now, more commanding. "John, don't do this to me! We promised to always stay together! You can't die on me! Come back!"

The woman is shrieking right in his ear, the despair in her voice crushing over all his senses.

"JOHN!"

He wakes in a dark room staggering on the bed. His hands blindly try to reach her, but there's no one in his cabin. John sits up covering his face with trembling hands. He's covered with sleek cold sweat. The sheets below him are drenched. The nightmare had lasted much longer this time.

That dream again. It's worse then the nightmares he used to get. First after Mindoir, then after Akuze. The meds and counseling helped back then. Jane never needed any of it. She slept like a baby. She was always the stronger one. He shakes his head and moans in his hands.

No one knew what had happened to her. Not Joker, not even the Illusive Man. Jane was involved in some Black Ops after he died, but two years ago she just disappeared without a trace.

He threw the sheets off of him and stumbled wearily to the shower. John splashed cold water over his face and head, running his hands over the buzz-cut then pressing his fingers tightly to his eyes. His muscles shuddered violently, so much so that he had to grip at the sink to steady himself and rest the weight of his body on it. John looked up at the face reflected in the mirror. The man could barely recognize himself. There were black circles under his bloodshot eyes, his cheeks became hollow, the web of not yet completely healed cybernetic scars covered his jaw glowing with ominous orange through the stubble.

John sighed heavily slumping his broad shoulders. He would have never thought that being brought back to life would be such a stressful, exhausting, nerve wracking experience. From the first moment on when he was woken up on the Lazarus Station John could not catch a break. But being shot at and risking his own life was not what gave him nightmares. On the contrary, he always felt at ease in the field, making a difference. The things they have told him, on the other hand, the reality of what had happened...

Two years! The Normandy gone, his crew disbanded, send all over the Alliance as if separated on purpose; on top of it no one had been doing anything to prepare for the Reapers! John could still not quite believe it. Anderson had become the human Councilor – he, of all people, must have done something! The other Councilors may have already shown that they could be this blind, but not his old mentor.

After witnessing what had happened on Freedom's Progress, John could not deny the danger the Collectors posed not only to the human worlds, but tho the well being of the galaxy. However, that did not mean Shepard began to fully believe the Illusive Man, let alone trust him. He has seen what Cerberus was capable of. The experiments, the assassinations. They always were hardly more then a terrorist xenophobic organization. Very well founded, efficient, expertly led, more reasonable then the extremists like Terra Firma, but still operating on the basis of the same flawed assumption: the ends justify the means.

Shepard let out a hollow laugh. Jane actually supported that would view. They used to have huge, nuclear arguments about use of force, consequences and moral decisions. Janie adopted the philosophy of "eye for an eye" ever since before the Academy. It was almost funny how they ended with almost opposite lookouts on the galaxy. John "bought in", as she called it, into the whole optimistic Alliance virtues package. The recruitment vids going on about loyalty, duty, honor, integrity, courage and defending the innocent. He admitted, though begrudgingly, that the brass and politicians could be wrong, but the idea, the core purpose of the Alliance and the Citadel – a peaceful coalition of equal members – was created for all the right reasons.

Janie tirelessly teased him about his idealism. The galaxy is a violent, dark, dirty place, she kept on saying. The only way to preserve order is to be ready to execute force. The only way to provide and uphold justice is to punish the guilty party with maximum prejudice. They even had an argument about Cerberus after one of the missions back then. Jane would have been much more at ease working with the organization. She could take charge right from the start of any squad, any situation, any assignment. John was always a bit jealous of that quality. He needed to get to know his crew. For him command was about knowing about his subordinates, he liked to work with people, not just cogs in the military machinery.

Shepard put a hand on the back of his neck massaging the tensed muscles. He left the bathroom still feeling drained. It was almost like he wasn't really alive yet. His reanimated body was going through the motions, but his mind and soul were trapped far away in happier times.

John stepped down the three steps, walked around the low coach table to his secondary desk. There were three photo frames standing on it next to the terminal. The most right one was displaying the Normandy. The old one, SR-1. It was strange to think this way of the ship he loved so much. The brand new ship in the picture was suspended in high orbit above Earth. An exact copy of this photo was given to him by Anderson after he took command of the Normandy. Of course, that frame was incinerated in the Collector attack along with all of his possessions. All of there photo frames were replicas. The back up extranet archive locked to Johns DNA authorization remained untouched for two years, but still intact.

Next to the Normandy was a group photo of the old crew. It was taken right before Virmire. John was standing right in the middle with Jane at his left and Garrus at his right. Next to Jane were Pressly and Joker, to the right of Garrus stood Liara. On a step higher towards the CIC was the massive red figure of Urdnot Wrex towering between Ashley and Kaidan. All around the squad was the crew, every last crew member from navigators to engineers, requisition officers and security marines.

Looking at it John could almost hear the roaring laughter exploding from Wrex and the indignant response coming from Ashley. He could almost feel the warmth of the small shoulder at his left. Everyone was smiling, laughing, innocent of the hardships to come.

The most left picture was the oldest and the most precious. Within the vertical frame were much younger versions of John and Jane. It was taken after they graduated from the Academy and had received the full N7 honors. Both were wearing brand new N7 t-shirts. John was smiling contently as he held his sister on his left arm. Jane had one arm around his neck for support while brandishing the other in the air above her head with the closed fist threatening the heavens. Her hair was cut very short back then, real pixie style, but the patchy, rebellious red locks still found a way to look disheveled. She was laughing and shouting something triumphant.

Shepard permitted himself an ironic chuckle under his breath. If the redhead could see him now mopping about, uncertain of his place, haunted by the nightmares of his past – the terrible and the wonderful memories, she would kick his ass from one end of the ship to the other. He breathed out heavily and straightened his spine. There were people depending on him, there were wrongs to put right and dead to avenge.

John felt a sad smile creep up at his lips. It was a shadow of his usual smile, barely noticeable on the worn out face. He was a Spectre, the Hero of the Citadel, Savior of the Council. They will listen to him, whatever the Illusive Man tried to achieve by insinuating the Council turned their backs on humanity, John believed in the system. Anderson will have his back. The other councilors if stubborn and wrapped up in their own agendas could be convinced of the truth, there had to be a way!

Visiting his old mentor also meant John had a chance to figure out what Black Op Jane was assigned to last, maybe Anderson had more information then the Illusive Man, her was the human Councilor after all. Then there were Kaidan, Garrus, Liara, maybe even Wrex. If the krogan gotten the idea to untie the clans under his rule, he probably would not join up. The others on the other hand...

John could not possibly believe the things the Cerberus leader told him. Liara working for the Shadow Broker? Preposterous! Garrus missing, going undercover so deep that even Cerberus sources could not find him? Unlikely. Why would the turian go on a secret mission or disappear? He might have had a thought of re-joining C-Sec, but then there should have been the paper trail. None of it made any sense.

At least Kaidan was still with the Alliance. Anderson would know where he's stationed. He could even reassign the biotic to the Normandy again. With Anderson's help he could probably get his old crew back. The people he trained, trusted. Furthermore, with the backing from the Council getting a beat on Collectors will be easy pickings.

John bend down to the terminal and pressed some keys. The numbers glowed on the screen in warm orange. "ETA to the Citadel: 6 hours 28 minutes." Not long. Once they arrived Shepard could finally start getting his life back to what it was. Put it all back together. Plus he could get some real answers from a trustworthy source. The trustworthy source.

. . .

"Why do you have to follow me, again?" asked the man irritably.

The brunette woman clad in a skintight leather catsuit was walking briskly beside him not missing a step. Miranda insisted on accompanying John on his visit to the Citadel.

"As I stated before, a lot has changed in two years. You will not receive the same welcome you hope for. I have spend more then enough time putting you back together to deny myself the satisfaction of witnessing the Great Commander Shepard crumbling in his legendary idealism."

John stopped abruptly and turned to stand nose to nose with the woman. Thanks to the high heels on her boots and already substantial height Miranda was not an inch shorter then he was. They looked straight into each others eyes. The heavy glare with witch John regarded the operative with only intensified.

"What the hell is wrong with you? This is not a game, people are depending on us! With the Council's help we will be able to locate and hit the Collectors in no time. I thought the wellbeing of human colonies would tramp whatever animosity Cerberus has towards the Council."

"How naive," Miranda frowned. "The Council has been suppressing information about the Reapers for years. They did not lift a finger to investigate the missing colonists. Of course, why would they bother? The colonies are in Terminus Systems! The Council only cares about what happens in Council space and even then it has to benefit them in some way to merit an intervention. My distrust and disrespect are justified. Your blind faith in all the propaganda is not. Honestly, I think this trip is a colossal waste of time, a resource we do not have in abundance. We should have secured the professor first."

She paused. There was something about her speech. Like Miranda did not only want to give him a piece of her mind, but also convince him there was another way to look at things.

"However, this is your command, Shepard, and if you want to be disappointed so be it, but I'm going to be there when you do."

"Why, though?" John was getting more irritated by the minute.

Was it because she hit a raw spot? Shepard stubbornly ignored the logic in whatever Cerberus people kept telling him, the small pings of doubt were stuffed as far away as possible. Maybe it was because of the superior attitude the operative was oozing all over. Miranda was too confident, too convicted of Cerberus methods and ideology being justified. John was having more difficulty ignoring her opinions the more time he spend aboard the new Normandy.

The truth was that Miranda was too smart not to see through the deception, yet she was implicitly loyal to the Illusive Man and his organization. The math did not add up. Could it be possible that there was no deception, that they have been telling him the truth all along?

"Why do you want to witness me being disappointed or even betrayed if what you say is true? Some kind of morbid curiosity? Miranda, you have spend two years of your life on me, I'd think you might trust in me more. What was the reason, the whole point of bringing me back in the first place?"

The tall brunette looked back at him with those cold blue eyes.

"I have brought you back because we need you. That is a fact. It does not mean that I trust you. Let's get one thing straight: you will have to be the one earning my trust. Commander Shepard, Hero of the Citadel, the leader we need, but as long as you cling to your idealistic, completely disconnected view of the galaxy, you don't stand a chance in hell against the Reapers! And by extension so do we!"

She looked on with satisfaction as an incredulous expression spread over his features.

"The reason I will be there when you meet with the Councilors is to see you face reality as it is. So that you can survive whatever is coming next. And when they inevitably crush your expectations, when you feel betrayed," she suddenly smiled an open, genuine smile. "I will be there. In case you need me."

The incredulous look did not leave the Commander's face, on the contrary, he was just short of staring at her with his mouth gaping open. The Ice Queen cared for his emotional state, not simply his mental and physical readiness for the mission!

"But why would you care?" he whispered still shocked by the revelation.

Miranda turned away. Her posture tightened for a moment.

"I made a promise to someone. A certain someone I owe my life to. To bring you back and to give you the best fighting chance possible. To make sure you can survive, lead and live a life. I keep my promises."

She strode to the end of the hallway making it plain that this conversation was over.

. . .

During the skyride to the Presidium Shepard thought about what he had already seen on the Citadel. Miranda was right, at least regarding some things. Sovereign's attempt to summon the Reapers through the Citadel Relay was labeled as a simple geth attack. The so called higher security was a joke. C-Sec personnel and the receptionist never even saw a video of a geth platform, what hope had they of identifying one?

In the peaceful, seemingly secure stillness of the Citadel people were passive, almost apathetic. Looking on all if this splendor, it was indeed hard to believe some four or five Relay jumps away whole colonies were being abducted.

Once they arrived to the human Councilor's office Miranda squeezed his elbow in a very uncharacteristic gesture and slid out of view of the holo projectors. He could not help but feel grateful. The operative made her stance crystal clear, but she would not interfere with what he had to do.

He was greeted by Anderson as if they haven't seen each other a week at best rather then long two years.

"Commander! John, I was just talking about you with the other Councilors!"

They shared a strong handshake. The see-through figures on the holo projectors watched on as they exchanged greetings.

"It's been a while, Anderson. I hope the years have treated you right in my absence." John allowed himself a hollow chuckle that did not go unnoticed by his old mentor.

"There have been rough spots and good times, but the best is right now. It's good to have you back, John."

They were loudly interrupted by the turian Councilor:

"The Council was informed of many rumors surrounding your unexpected return, Commander. Some if them are rather unsettling."

Councilor Tevos picked up the conversation with her even, perfectly leveled voice.

"We have arranged this meeting so that you can explain your actions, Shepard. We owe you that much. After all, it was because of your council that Major Shepard rallied the Alliance vessels saving our lives in the battle against Saren and his geth."

John took a breath and launched into the explanation. He used his best techniques to convince the Councilors. His voice was filled with just enough emotion, genuine conviction; his face presented only a picture of a honest man looking for help.

"Councilors! I come to you with news of grave importance. The Collectors, a race of beings from beyond the Omega 4 Relay, have been abducting entire human colonies in the Terminus Systems. I have reasons to believe they are working for the Reapers. If you permit me there are several pieces of evidence I'd like to present at this time..."

He was abruptly interrupted by the salarian Councilor.

"The Terminus Systems are beyond our jurisdiction! Your human colonists should have thought about it before they left the Council space!"

"You missing the point, Councilor. The Reapers are involved. That has to be a priority for the Council." Way to go Anderson! John felt relieved, but did not show any of it on his face. Anderson had his back.

"Oh yes, 'Reapers'." the salarian Valern imitated a human quotation gesture with his fingers. "The immortal race of sentient spaceships allegedly waiting in dark space. We have dismissed that claim prior to this conversation. A fairly long time ago."

And then it happened. Exactly like Miranda warned him the pieces started to fall again.

"Shepard," Anderson turned towards him. "No one else but you and your crew spoke to Sovereign. Only Jane Shepard had seen the visions, only you two have spoken to the hologram on Ilos. Since she has disappeared there is no one left to collaborate your account. I have always believed both of you, but now without hard evidence from another trustworthy source, the others think Saren was behind the geth attacks."

That was below the belt. John had hoped to have a chance to ask about Jane in private, away from prying eyes and judgmental politicians. Anderson as well as confirmed he had no clue what happened to her or where she was. It hurt. A lot. But he had to focus on the problem at hand. Logic was always his answer.

"Saren was an organic. The geth followed him because he was Sovereign's agent otherwise they would have never accepted him as their leader! Examine the remains of the Sovereign itself! Its technology is way beyond what the geth could achieve on their own! Better yet, go back to Ilos and talk to Vigil yourselves!"

"We have investigated these claims. The hologram on Ilos is non functional and truthfully there is no evidence to suggest it ever was." the turian's mandibles flared angrily. "We have found nothing to suggest that Sovereign was a not a geth creation. The Reapers are a myth! One that you insist on perpetuating!"

"Saren was a compelling and charismatic individual. He convinced the geth the Reapers were real... just as he convinced you. The geth have undoubtedly constructed the ship under Saren's influence."

"Shepard, this insistence on presenting to us a disproved theory only proves to show how fragile your mental status is." salarian blinked. "Regrettably you seem to have been manipulated – by Cerberus and, before them, by Saren."

"I can not believe this..." John uttered under his breath. Then he continued louder, a tiny bit of indignation seeping through his polite mask. "We have kept Saren from conquering the Citadel. I chose to insist on sacrificing human lives to save this Council. And right now I am asking for help. Not for myself, but the helpless colonists who's only crime was trying to find a place of their own in the universe!"

"The Council finds ourselves in a difficult position, Shepard. You are working with Cerberus – an avowed enemy of the Council and a known terrorist organization to the Alliance. We can not possibly support your cause publicly. But, perhaps, there is another solution."

John looked at his mentor hardly believing he was the one who said it. Anderson was supposed to have his back!

"Yes, as human Councilor have said, maybe there is a compromise. Not a public acknowledgment, given the company you keep nowadays, but something to show support non the less. We will reinstate your Spectre status if you restrict your operations to the Terminus Systems and will keep a low profile in the public's eyes. It will only be a formal gesture, a show of faith in you personally, not your associates or the mission you undertake."

John stayed silent looking in the distance. This was the same joke as the higher security. They wanted him to "play nice" and not bother them with his inconvenient truth. The reinstatement could play to his favor, but it sounded hollow – he would not get the full support of the Council however much he tried to convince them. They chose to deny the truth, to hide from it behind petty words. Well, so be it.

He stepped forward and said what they wanted to hear.

"I accept your offer. It's good to have the Council on my side."

"Good luck with your investigation, Shepard. We hope you will wrap it up shortly... as your relationship with Cerberus." The Councilors ended the holocall.

John let out a sigh and moved to the balcony leaning against the railing. Anderson followed taking position at his side. Shepard had a feeling without actually seeing that Miranda slid closer. She was right there barely out of sight and certainly not out of earshot.

"That went better then expected." Anderson began.

"Well, you seem to have thought a great deal about what to do with me, back from the dead. That 'another solution', nicely done." he could not hide the bitterness in his voice.

"John... This offer is symbolic, the others will not actually do anything. But it was the only way to keep them off your back. Them and the Alliance. As long as you keep to the Terminus Systems you can do what you have to."

"Thanks, I almost thought you left me hanging."

"In some ways I did. Sometimes I hate that you have rewarded me with this nightmare of a job. I take it you have a lot of questions, what do you want to know?"

John thought of asking about the obvious: the Sovereign's remains, damage to the Citadel, the geth, but after hearing what the Council had to say it all became meaningless all of a sudden. He really wanted to ask about one thing, but it was terrifying to actually do it so he asked about something else instead.

"What do you know about my old crew? What happened to them?"

Anderson leaned on the railings looking out to the parks of the Presidium.

"You mean, Major Jane Shepard's old crew?" he corrected pointedly. "Most of the crew were reassigned to different posts. Chief Adams is working on the retrofits of the SSV Orizaba. Your krogan acquaintance Wrex has been sitting on his home world for a year. Liara T'Soni has become a respected information broker. I do not know where she is located. I'm sorry, Shepard, but there is no information on your turian friend. Garrus Vakarian had rejoined the C-Sec after your presumed death and tried out for Spectre training, but he failed it and disappeared over a year ago."

"What about First Lieutenant Alenko? I heard he's still with the Alliance."

"Staff Lieutenant Alenko is on a special mission. It's classified. I can not tell you about his assignment. Not while you are with Cerberus."

That had done it. All they saw was Cerberus or the uncomfortable truth about the Reapers! No one saw him! John was back from the dead for fuck sake! And all they cared about were their own petty political agendas! Even Anderson.

"Alright. How about you tell me what happened to my sister, old friend?" there was something in his voice that made Anderson look at him with concern.

"I'm really sorry, John. I do not know much. The truth is no one has seen her for over two years..."

Shepard could notice out of the corner of his eye the way the operative, who was still trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, has tensed up. It was barely noticeable and he probably would not have noticed if he wasn't looking at the right time.

"From what I pieced together," the Councilor continued, "she signed up for more Black Ops work after the original Normandy was destroyed..."

. . .

As soon as the door closed behind them Shepard rounded on his XO.

"You do know something about my sister. Start talking, now!"

"Why would you..."

"You shifted when Anderson said no one has seen her for over two years. Do not try my patience with this subject!" John interrupted angrily. He started to think Miranda could be deserving of trust, yet she apparently was hiding something about Jane!

Brunette faced his furious gaze head on. She kept her features emotionless, but deep below the ice of her blue eyes there was sadness.

"Shepard, I'm sorry, but I don't know where she is or what happened to her exactly. We were involved in an operation two years ago before I started on the Lazarus Project."

"What were you doing? Why don't you know where she is? Did Jane join Cerberus? Why would she?"

The questions followed in rapid succession.

"It is not my place to say and not my secret to keep. If you want to know more about what happened, we will have to go to Illium."

"Fine!" he snapped. "Let's go there then! Right now. But I better get some real answers!"

"Shepard, we can't!" Seeing his angry expression she added fearlessly: "Not right away. We have wasted enough time getting to the Citadel as it is. We need the scientist. You've got to understand the gravity of the situation. Without protection against Collector stasis toxins we don't stand a chance of surviving a single encounter with them! The other assignment on Omega is time-sensitive as well. We have to think of the mission first."

John growled and landed his fist into the nearest wall. He sighed and his shoulders lowered in resignation.

"You are right. Again. We'll have to get things done on Omega, getting the colonists has to take priority."

Shepard turned to look at the operative, their faces returned to normal, or rather his did since a cold mask of professionalism never left hers.

"I owe you an apology, Ms. Lawson. I did not believe you had my best interests in mind. I also will have to reevaluate my stance on Cerberus. You have to excuse me, my world view is somewhat dated. By about two years."

He attempted a smile and could swear some of that detached coldness had left the Cerberus agent, too.

"Very well, Commander, I accept your apology. I hope we can learn to work together."

She turned on her heels – wave of raven hair in the air and started towards the exit, but the call from Shepard stopped her.

"Miranda, wait!"

John caught up with her feeling uneasy about broaching the subject, but he had to make sure his guess was correct.

"The person you promised to take care of me. The person you said you owed your life to... Was it my sister?"

Tall brunette threw a quick glance at him over her shoulder. Shepard nodded. Both of them knew this had to be the last question on the matter. At the very least until Illium.

Miranda stood there for a while, not saying anything, not looking at the man. Then she said one word in a quiet, emotionless, almost monotone voice.

"Yes."

The next second she was gone leaving Commander to inhale heavily. Turns out he was holding his breath all the while.