Chapter 26

"Goodbye, captain," Kevin said to Siri before he hesitantly rushed off after his comrades.

Those words cut into her heart in more ways than one.

She wasn't one to get teary-eyed in the face of defeat or death, especially the latter. She lived her life fighting for her people and had no regrets, save for wishing she had kept more from an untimely demise. Yet now she was faced with an unfamiliar personal battle, manifesting itself in the form of unwilling tears. Tears. Perhaps part of it was due to how attached she had gotten to the team she was laying her life down for. Further than that, perhaps it was the fact that she knew that Kevin was the very last she'd see of any of them. She wouldn't get to say goodbye to Bela, get a final salute from Riik or Tyr, or get to deal with Arla's standoff from trying to cope with the truth of the matter. More selfishly, perhaps it was because she had just gotten this mission under way and she was already at her end.

Siri hoisted up her assault rifle and let it rest against her chest. She let out a slow, shaky breath and rested her head against the metal crate she leaned on. She focused all of her weight on her left leg and bit back any pain from her right leg that dared confront her conscious mind. As much as she wanted to, there was no time to grieve. Emotional distress never won any battles, and it certainly wasn't going to help her win this one.

Much the same as her entire career as a captain, she never got time to grieve, to feel emotional pain, to get a 'weekend off'. It just another day at the helm. It wasn't just about being tough or hardy. She had a fondness for getting the job done, and that usually didn't give a lot of way for moments of self-pity.

"So come on, Kortel, get your head together," she said to herself in a pained variation of her trademark captain's tone. "There's a lot of geth right here trying to kill your team. Best be rid of those watery eyes or you won't be able to plant your shots in each of those blasted synthetic's heads!"

Siri growled in response to the pain as she hobbled to her left and repositioned just enough so she would be able peek around the corner of the crate to fire at the geth. Without even seeing just how many geth she was up against, her fight or flight responses were kicking in. It didn't dull the pain much at all, but she found herself able to focus again despite the unimaginably intense agony coursing from her right leg. She leaned over to get a look at the oncoming forces and her brow furrowed with prejudice-born fury. Nine geth. More appearing around the corner in the distance.

"I am not losing any more marines!" she screamed as she took as steady an aim as her trembling body would allow.

She opened up with several rounds of burst fire, most of which hit their mark fairly well. The recoil of her rifle, which under normal circumstances was effortlessly kept under control, jolted her body and further intensified the torture of trying to stand with a broken leg. It felt as though it was reaching beyond her head and stabbing into the back of her eyes. Three geth fell before she had to change a clip out, though, so she must have held it still enough.

As she ducked in and out of cover and fired volleys at her one an only enemy, she realized something: the geth were becoming increasingly disorganized. Their reaction time was significantly slower and their accuracy was horrible compared to when they crossed paths on the way in. She had almost forgotten that the entire ship was rocking, frying and exploding around her. The attack on the servers and databases must have been crippling the geth's internetwork and as a result, causing them to rely simply on the units around them for data sharing. They were becoming less and less effective at being footsoldiers. The lenses on their heads were still red with hostility, but their aggressive approach, press, flank and root out tactics had all but fallen apart. She was beginning to think she might be able to successfully stonewall the geth's main approach to the Kellius.

Geth were falling, but the remaining numbers converging on this hallway were steadily increasing well beyond her ability to nullify. The array of units she was trying to stave off had gotten diverse, as well. Every known bipedal geth class she knew of except the towering Geth Prime class was present and working to remove her so that they might have their shot at eliminating the invaders. The thin line of geth she was originally able to push back had since been replaced by a thick wall of synthetics whose collective intelligence was reduced to using a tactical swarm approach to overwhelm her. She couldn't stop them any more. This was the end of the line.

Or was it?

"Not until the fat lady sings," Siri remembered him saying. She figured it was some human expression, but she had no idea what it was supposed to mean. Only now did she understand what that cryptic statement was referring to, with the help of a little situational context. Whoever the fat lady was, she must have been the end of whatever she was a part of. After ducking behind the cover one last time, she replaced the heatsink in her rifle and grabbed the EMP grenade the human had provided. She held in a breath as she armed the grenade and forced herself against all pain to lean out and throw it at her foes.

The moment seemed to move in slow motion. She felt the grenade leave her hand to travel towards the bulk of the overwhelming synthetic mass. The problem was, she would have absolutely no time whatsoever to take advantage of their spasming state. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught view of a very accurate – or very inaccurate – distortion rocket, heading for the floor no more than a third of a meter away. Blasted distortion rockets. They've done nothing but ruin her whole day.

She closed her eyes as she expected the concussive blast to end her on the spot.

At the moment of detonation, she felt herself get violently lifted from the ground and mercilessly smashed into the ceiling. She hit the floor face down with a sickening mix of a thud, a series of cracks and a splattery mess. She promptly blacked out for a few seconds strictly from the unrelenting agony of her already broken body being torn asunder.

How did she bring her mind back from the abyss? Maybe it was the sense that there was still more to be done. When the captain came to, everything was blurry. There were so many suit-error alarms going off that she could barely hear the sound of the geth homeship suffering a similar, but internal fate. There was so much brutal pain that she couldn't even bear to move enough to shut them off. Her mind was starting to spiral into a madness of agony, failure and the imminent final shot to end her life.

Yet something sparked in her head. Images of her Xelvas'taersh squad flashed in her mind, almost reminding her of why she stayed behind. She never could explain it, but she had grown so much more attached to these eight individuals than she had most quarians serving under her. It ran deeper than that, even. She could only think of it as love, but not a romantic love. A level of camaraderie she hadn't really experienced before. How it happened didn't matter to her right now. She was still alive, and she still had a duty– No. A final desire to protect them to the very end of her last breath.

She coughed and blood spattered the inside of her increasingly cracked visor. She felt through the pain that she could still move her arms. Thank Keelah they were not broken! Her vision cleared just enough for her to see that the geth in front of her were still under the influence of the EMP grenade. Something inside was filling her with an inexplicable vigor, pushing her to search for her rifle. Fighting double vision, she could make it out not more than a meter in front of her, just out of arm's length.

Siri knew her body was done for. She didn't even bother trying to see if she even still had any legs left. But she had to get to that rifle. With pained cries and growls so fierce that she nearly bit off her own tongue, the captain pulled herself forward centimeter by centimeter until she reached her weapon. She lifted it up and coughed again, turning most of her view red. Without hesitation, she let loose a barrage of fully automatic fire at the wall of epileptic geth.

"I'm down here, you tepka bosh'tets! Come get your last taste of Siri'Kortel vas Kellius!" she managed to gurgle out with a volume that even she didn't think she was capable of.

Each shred that left the barrel jarred her body, but she no longer cared. Her body was going into shock and her mind had gone numb to everything except killing as many geth as she could. The unshielded wall fell before her like a grove of trees hit by a pyroclastic flow. The geth coming up the corridor behind them were the next to meet her last stand onslaught. Heat sink after heat sink was ejected until the thermal clip ran empty. She instinctively reached for her pistol, and to her surprise it was still in one piece. She didn't even give it a second thought before she hauled it around and, with the last of her waning strength, fired until the first heatsink needed to be ejected.

Her vision was already tunneling hopelessly by the time she took a shot clean through her pistol and right shoulder. Her body, shoved by the impact, skidded backwards a bit. She no longer had the strength to move her fingers and her grip on the broken pistol failed her. Her head was so heavy that she could no longer hold it in position to look at the geth coming near. With a gurgling sigh, Siri'Kortel let go of her last breath and gave in to the death that was so fervently grasping for her.

Kevin was running full tilt down the corridor, following in his squadmates' equally as hasty footsteps. The vitals data from his captain had long since faded due to the remnants of jamming coming from the ship. He was still coming to grips with leaving his captain to die, but he forced himself to focus more on keeping his footing and taking out any geth that popped out of a door. It wasn't easy at times, either. The ship was reeling under what Kevin perceived as the final stages of Bela's disablement attack. Electronic components everywhere were bursting under the excess electrical load, and if two exposed pieced of ruined equipment were close enough, they had the potential to send off deadly arcs of electricity.

He had a feeling that there was a little more punch to this than Bela had designed. He wondered if the power generating services, having been electrically removed of any form of control, were adding to the chaos. If anything, that only made him run faster.

Finally the chamber that they had arrived in came into view. On the far side, he saw the team huddled together below the cut hole in the wall, doing their best to keep the small pockets of geth at bay. The jamming started to fade and Kevin caught some of the team's chatter as he ran the final stretch of hallway to the room.

"Juggernaut right. Focus fire," Tyr instructed. At once, the entire team shot a volley towards a part of the room out of Kevin's line of sight.

"Here comes Kevin. Exfil, exfil!" Tyr shouted.

"I don't see the captain," Riik responded.

Tyr wasn't in the mood for backtalk. "We can cover her approach from the hole. Move it!"

As ordered, the team packed up and started their cumbersome retreat into the square cut-out on the wall. One by one they hopped up, gripped the ledge, and pulled themselves into the airlock. Tyr was the last one in, giving Kevin just enough time to lunge at the hole from half the room away. The angle and speed Kevin was approaching the entrance from was going to make it difficult for him to simply catch on and climb in. Thankfully, Tyr reached out and grasped Kevin's outstretched right hand and hauled him through. As soon as he was in, Tyr and Arla took position in the gap to fire at any geth that stepped into the room.

Kevin had no time to waste, yet he hesitated. The news he was about to bring was tragic. Demoralizing, even. How was he supposed to inform the others? Kevin, emotionally conflicted, clenched his fist around the late captain's Xelvas'taersh symbol. One thing was true, though. If he didn't get the Kellius to separate from the geth homeship now, they were going to fry too and everything she died for would be wasted.

"We need to get the Kellius off the geth ship, now!" Kevin demanded.

"A few minutes. We need to wait for the captain," Riik calmly stated.

"We'll fry if we stay here any longer."

"The captain will fry if we don't," Riik countered. "Do you want her blood on your hands?"

Kevin swallowed hard. "I never did."

"Then we will wait," Riik said with a nod.

"No. No we won't." Kevin lowered his head and raised his clenched fist out in front of him. He opened it, palm up so that all could see what he took away from the mission – a scorched and scarred Xelvas'taersh symbol. Since everyone on the airlock was wearing theirs, it was quickly obvious who it belonged to.

There was a collective gasp and sudden stillness. Arla and Tyr turned around to see what caused the sudden, almost tangible change in emotion in the airlock and they, too, froze. Several of them started to shake their heads in disbelief.

Kevin wasn't about to let them wonder what happened. Not when time was this short. "We were hit by a distortion rocket, but Siri took the worst of the hit. She stayed behind to stonewall the pursuing geth so that they wouldn't wreck us while we tried to get back into the Kellius."

"Captain. . ." Bela whispered, still shaking her head.

"Liar!" Riik yelled as he stepped over to Kevin and got in his face. "Awfully convenient story, Folner!"

"Call it what you want, but that's what happened! Why would I lie to you guys about this?" Kevin closed a fist around the icon once more.

"Conveniently leaving the captain behind to die so that you could take authority of the mission, maybe? I find it hard to believe that both of you went down because of a distortion rocket and only the captain took the damage." Riik seethed.

Kevin couldn't make a direct counter to that. His reason for making it through that blast relatively unharmed was because of his personal biotic barrier, but none of them – other than Arla – even knew he was a biotic. Such a time was not the best to reveal information like this, not to mention that it would seem like just another convenient dodge.

Arla placed a hand on her visor. "I'm sorry, Kevin, but there's just. . . It's just too. . . I can't believe the captain would. . ." Kevin could at least understand her disbelief. She had just been saved from the worst possible situation by his biotics. Why didn't he save the captain, too?

"Everybody settle down," Tyr rather calmly, if shakily, suggested. "I have a feeling there's a bit more to this."

Riik took a firm hold of Kevin's suit. "Exactly! There are a lot of gaps in your story you failed to explain, Folner. The mark of a lie."

Kevin grit his teeth. Frustration was welling up pretty quick. "I shouldn't have to, we're squadmates. Or have you already forgot? Siri'Kortel was my captain too!" Kevin swiped Riik's hand away and the angry quarian backed off. It seemed the last statement hit everyone a little close to home, but at least for the moment the accusations stopped. Like clockwork, however, shots from an increasing number of geth were beginning to pour in and hit the ceiling.

"I can give you all details later, but right now we need to get away from that ship before it destroys everything Siri believed in!"

"Us. . ." Bela quietly affirmed to herself.

After brief moment of silence, Tyr took charge. "Folner's right. Kar'Welkas, shut this airlock and us the heck away from this blasted place."

"U-Understood. Initiating escape plan. Hold on everyone, this is going to be close."

The sound of arching electricity and small explosions could be heard coming from the geth homeship even though the airlock door had since sealed tight. Kevin, Tyr and Ralik exited the airlock and headed into the bridge, leaving several stunned quarians behind. They knew that there current situation did not allow for a moment of hindsight or grief. Not if they wanted to make it to the relay alive. Behind them, a disabled geth Valesh'saat drifted in space like a derelict merchant vessel. There was no grand explosion or ship-rattling concussive shockwave, as expected. Kevin, Tyr and Ralik made it into the bridge just in time to see Kar piloting the Kellius through a swirling mass of angry and confused geth ships.

"Good Lord, we stirred up the bee's nest," Kevin said. "How much time do we have left on the stealth?"

"About two minutes if we keep up this much thrust," Kar replied. "We won't be able to clear the entire fleet before we have to vent."

"Vent now," Tyr said.

"What? Why?" Kar asked.

"We won't have to worry about the geth we're passing, since they won't have enough time to line up shots. I need to make sure the IES3 is ready the moment we jump. I have a plan."

"Do what he says, Kar," Kevin said. Tyr's plans have so far been pretty good. He didn't have any reason to suspect he would falter now.

Kar hit on the venting procedure and returned his attention to his flight course. Kevin was keeping a steady eye on the LADAR scans on the terminal to Kar's left, watching for changes in geth direction. There was. Every geth they flew by seemed to be trying to take shots at them, but they usually didn't. There were too many of their own and the Kellius' path was too unpredictable to get a good shot in.

Finally they pushed through most of the geth fleet. The relay came into view in the distance, as active as it had been since the probes passed by. It's blue-white glow illuminated the fleet of geth ships surrounding it at a safe distance in a giant ring. It was awe inspiring, but at the same time deeply ominous.

"Keelah, look at them all," Kar said as he continued to make their ship a difficult target.

Kevin looked up. "What do you think they're all doing here? Protecting the relay? Waiting for someone? Both? Neither?"

"Can't be protection," Tyr pointed out. "In order to do that, they'd have to form a barrier around the relay, not just a ring."

"Doesn't matter anyway," Kar said. "We're about to link up to the relay. Standby!"

"Three ships broke off from the fleet and are pursuing," Kevin announced.

"All that fleet and only three?" Tyr wondered aloud. "Either they're being nice, or there's something we don't know."

Kevin spotted Arla joining them in the bridge as they drew very close to the relay. The mechanical hum of the ship tucking itself closer together in preparation for the jump signaled that they were just about to hit the relay. In a flash, it happened. The viewports were coated with a solid cyan for a mere few seconds until it fell away as they reached the end of the jump.

They were greeted by the unfamiliar sight of the deepest blackness they had ever seen. There were no stars – just the occasional distant and extremely faint dot of light from some other distant galaxy. It sent a strange shiver down the spines of each individual that stared off into the abyss. Even more strange, there was not a single geth to be found. This was probably the most confusing contrast to that of where they came from. Kevin expected the geth to fully control both sides of the jump, and judging by Tyr's need for the stealth system to be fully ready by the time they jumped, he did too.

"Bring the ship around and engage the IES3," Tyr said, reminding everyone that they still had one last thing to take care of before they could relax.

"Repositioning," Kar informed. "IES3 active."

Silence. All of the onlookers were waiting for something to happen. After a lengthy few minutes, Kevin noticed something odd, yet unrelated to the geth.

"Wait. Where's the-" Kevin was cut off by the brilliant blue entrance of the three pursuing geth ships who had just jumped in via relay.

"Again, just three," Tyr said aloud, confused. "Shouldn't they be sending enough to make sure? Welkas, can we take them on?"

"Those are freighter class geth ships," Kar said. "Three might be tough, but we do tactically outmatch them in almost every field. Especially with the new guns. I'm pretty sure I can handle this."

"Welkas, that was a yes or no question."

"I can do it, Chief," Kar said, emphasizing the entire statement out of reassurance to both Tyr as well as himself.

"Then get it done, marine. Quick and easy. Let's hope Merni finished those tune-ups on the main gun."

The three geth ships flew a ways from their entry point and then stalled. Perhaps they were scanning the area for hiding places that the Kellius might have been using, since they couldn't see it directly anywhere. Kar took the Kellius directly underneath them with the nose of the ship pointed directly at the underbelly of the leading ship. Thrusters were opened and the Kellius increased speed, heading straight for the trio. In the same second, Kar deactivated the stealth systems and fired the main mass accelerator cannon. The center ship took a direct hit – its shields might have held better if Bela had not used her clan's cannon optimizing expertise to give it a little extra punch. It suffered catastrophic damage and the remaining two scattered to counter.

Kar'Welkas flew the much nimbler Kellius in literal circles around the geth freighters, keeping up a constant barrage of GARDIAN laser fire. Though the damage was more than superficial, it wasn't quite enough to outright destroy a geth ship. Kar was having the targeting system search for weak points on the freighters, and after a few passes, one was found. The easiest way to take down these ships seemed to be to critically damage their subtle thrusters. Kar devoted extra concentration on positioning the Kellius behind and below either of the ships to give the GARDIAN towers the best shot. The problem was that it seemed that they figured out what he was aiming for, and were making it difficult. They were slower, but they weren't immobile. Yet. They were firing back, but the freighters lacked mass accelerator cannons and their weapons were much slower than most ships as their damage was explosive derived rather than impact.

Kar was beginning to worry that he'd have to stop using the lasers in order to let them cool down. Fortunately, the Kellius' superior speed and maneuverability proved itself yet again and Kar was able to take the ship right where he needed. One of the geth ships' thrusters were hit and ultimately left beyond repair. This made the drifting ship easy prey for the Kellius' main cannon. The third and only remaining ship broke off in what seemed like an attempt to flee. Kevin was fairly certain that the synthetics didn't experience fear, so it was more a tactical retreat. In the short time the geth ship made ready to go to FTL speeds, Kar landed more GARDIAN laser hits on their thrusters and it was finished off in the same way as the second one.

"Why did you shut off the stealth systems at the beginning of the battle?" Kevin asked the helmsman curiously, smiling at the victory.

Kar chuckled. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not test how well our limited sinks handle combat emissions. Not with us still inside the ship, anyways."

Kevin tilted his head. "Good point. Now back to my previous question. Where's the return relay?"

Tyr and Kar looked at each other as if they had completely forgotten about that. It was true, though, that there was no return relay in the immediately visible area.

Kar began tapping on his terminals. "I'll. . . Start some long range scanning. Maybe we had unexpectedly high drift?"

"If drift was the cause, then how did three geth freighters end up at the exact same location?" Kevin asked.

"I don't like this," Tyr commented to himself. "Maybe that's why they sent so few of the most expendable ships in their current fleet."

"Are you telling me that the geth knew that anyone that used that relay wouldn't be coming back any time soon?" Kevin asked, his volume increasing. "Just friggin' great."

Nobody even knew Tosh was there until he spoke. "It would be a safe conjecture, then, that the geth were hanging around the relay to wait for word back from a possible exploration team. Maybe several."

"That's going to be a really crappy 'welcome home' party," Arla mused.

"Do what you can to find something, Welkas," Tyr ordered. "If anything changes, let us know."

"Yes sir," the helmsman replied. Meanwhile, everyone else trudged back to the briefing room.

"So whether the captain was alive or dead doesn't matter anyways. We can't go back to get her now," Tyr said, trying to get the rest of the crew to move on. Instead, it left a horribly depressing and socially cold awkwardness hanging in the air.

Kevin had quickly noticed that all but Kar and Tyr were staring at him. Uncomfortable with this silent accusation, Kevin shifted on his feet and looked at the emblem still grasped in his hand.

"I'll. . . I'll be in my quarters," he finally grumbled out. He immediately left the briefing room. His destination, however, wasn't his quarters.

Kevin quickly sat down on the plush couch facing the large square viewport in the port observation lounge. The view through the window was a peculiar scene. One half of the viewport was filled with the sight of the galaxy, seen horizontally from the outside. The other half was pitch black as the edge of the galaxy eventually ceased. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Slowly, he opened his hand and let the charred Xelvas'taersh icon succumb to gravity. He caught it by the end of the strap and let it dangle there and watched as it swung side to side. He began contemplating everything that had happened on the mission, replaying battles and moments back in his mind while they were still fresh.

He found it uncomfortably hard to concentrate on much of anything. He was physically exhausted from the whole ordeal, especially due to the final stand. There was an animal-like groan that reverberated off of the flat walls of the room. He was tired, but he was also famished. He slung a lot of biotics during that mission, and it wouldn't have taken as much of a toll as it did if it wasn't for his last ditch attempt to save Arla and himself with the spherical biotic barrier.

His thoughts and minutes of silence were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Kevin didn't have to turn and look. He knew it was Arla.

"Curse you, Terra. I'm shutting my locater function in your VI off the first chance I get."

"I didn't ask Terra," Arla somberly replied. "You've been coming here to think a lot recently."

Had he really gotten that predictable? Kevin ceased swinging the emblem and closed his hand around it again. It was almost as if he was shielding it from something. "Why are you here, Arla? You know I came here to be by myself." He stood from the couch and took a few steps towards the viewport.

Kevin heard the faint inhale of breath before words were spoken, but there was no reply.

"Did you come here to ask for those details I mentioned? Or are you here to accuse me of intentionally getting your- Our captain killed without justification?" His fist clenched so tightly around the emblem that he thought the edges of it were going to tear into his suit.

Again, no reply. Kevin suspected that she had left the room, but he didn't hear the door open again. When he turned to look to know for sure, he was nearly startled by the fact that she was standing right behind him with her head down. Kevin stared for a moment, completely unsure of what was going on. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. He was too frazzled, tired and hungry to bother. He was on the verge of simply walking out of the room when she looked up at him.

Without warning, Arla reached out and pulled Kevin into a emotionally distraught embrace. Kevin's hands went up in a reflexive stance. This was so unexpected to him that he thought she was using this as a distraction while she worked to kill him somehow for the loss of her captain. His eyes darted about, searching for a potential threat, some form of an approach for a killing blow. But there was none to be found. It seemed that Arla just genuinely wanted a hug.

Kevin relaxed and wrapped his arms around her waist. This was not like the hugs he remembered from his past. There was no warmth. He couldn't feel the goosebumps on Arla's skin, nor feel her breath against his shoulder as she rested her head there. Yet there was still something there. An intangible connection just from her stepping beyond certain personal bounds to initiate such an action. He dared to let his head rest against hers for a moment, and he felt her tighten her wide-armed grip on him.

"I'm sorry," Kevin finally said to break the silence.

"It wasn't your fault," Arla said without lifting her head. She sounded regretful, sorrowful, but there were no sobs and Kevin was fine with that. Sobbing didn't suit her.

"How is it not my fault?" he asked.

"I knew the captain. If what you said was true, then it makes sense that she did what she did. Even if it were me in your place, the outcome would have been the same."

Kevin didn't know how to respond to that, so he stayed silent. About a minute passed before Arla finally brought an end to their embrace.

"I saw with my own eyes what you did to save us in that dead end. At first, I questioned why you did not do the same for her, but I realized something. Battles don't always work out as planned. In fact, they rarely do. I trust that if there was something you could have done, you'd have tried."

Trust.

Again, Kevin left Arla to reason with herself. It didn't seem like there was anything he could say without destroying the fragile moment.

Arla turned away and headed towards the door. "We. . . We should get some rest. We've had an unusually trying day, you and I. I think we'll be able to focus on the mission better then, and discuss those details over a meal or something."

"Agreed."

Arla stopped just as she opened the door and turned her head to look at Kevin with her peripheral vision. "Now I understand, all too late, why you were so reluctant to let that mission happen. I'm glad that you came with me, though. F-For obvious reasons."

And less obvious ones, Kevin wanted to add, but he resisted the urge. "Sleep well, Arla."

"You too," she replied as she crossed the threshold and disappeared behind the closing door.

Kevin caught himself white-knuckling his hold on the emblem, but not because of the frustration he felt earlier. This time it was an unconscious quirk he hadn't ever found himself doing before. Puzzled, he released his grip on the emblem to let it dangle by its strap again and held it just in front of his face so that he could just barely make out the reflection of the shrouded silhouette of his face within the helmet.

"What's happening to you, Folner? Has this day worn you so bad that you're finally beginning to lose it?" The exasperated human lowered the emblem and placed his empty hand over his visor. He wanted to massage his temples, rub his face, anything. This lack of personal physical interaction was starting to feed into his exasperation. Either way, he didn't have the ambition to look up how to take off the front of the helmet right now. Perhaps sleep was the best idea.

He made his decision and headed out of the lounge and into his quarters. He placed the emblem down on the night stand next to the bed with his pistol and sheathed knife. He laid down in the bed, unconsciously throwing blankets over him for comfort through familiarity and closed his eyes. After fifteen straight minutes of random fits of tossing and turning that seemed to go on for hours, he found that sleep would not come easily today.

Was he overtired? Surely a single tense mission wasn't enough to strain him to his limits. He could instantly recall a couple near week-long missions that left him far more conflicted or emotionally taut than this. The major difference was that he hadn't lost someone closer than mere acquaintance since Nor until today. There were, however, two notions that made Siri's death far easier to cope with: One, she was not someone Kevin was interested in quite as romantically as Nor, and two, she died a death of honor and duty to her people and her cause. The latter having been the more accepted of the two.

Kevin shook his head and stood up off the bed, frustrated at not being able to sleep in his weariness. It was timely, then, for Tyr to apologetically call Kevin into the briefing room. Not having anything better to do, Kevin told him that he'd be there in a minute. He wasn't sure why Tyr wanted to see him, but it had to be somewhat important.

When Kevin arrived, he was expecting to see the whole crew minus Arla. Instead, he only found Kar at the controls of the bridge and Tyr staring and a blank holographic sphere projected over the briefing table.

Tyr looked over to Kevin and nodded anxiously. "Good. Arla had informed me that you both were on the verge of passing out and had retreated to your respective sleeping quarters. I was hoping to catch you before you slept."

"You guys love keeping me up, don't you?"

"That was not my intention-"

"I'm messing with you, Tyr. I couldn't fall asleep anyways."

Tyr paused. "Anyway, the reason I called you here was twofold. Firstly, I'd like to express my apologies on behalf of Riik, since he obviously won't. You know him well enough to know that he was just reacting to his gut."

"As usual. No harm done, chief." He was partially lying, of course. Riik's words were reactive to the heat of the moment, but it was all reactive to what Kevin kicked himself for.

"Thank you for being as understanding as you have been. The second reason is so that I can voice a bit of concern, and with captain Kortel gone and Lieutenant Tavval having yet to rise to the shift in rank, that leaves you as the person with the highest authority on the ship."

"What's wrong?" Kevin crossed his arms, trying hard not to feel that Tyr was implying that he had planned the result of his position.

"Take a look at this long range scan in the holograph."

Kevin took a closer look at the sphere of light hovering perfectly above the table. He looked all over it and even squinted to try an make something out of it. In the end, he gave up trying to make any sense of the seemingly featureless globe.

"I'm not quite sure I know what I'm looking for. It looks blank to my eyes," Kevin admitted.

"That's because it is, Kevin, and therein lies the problem." Tyr leaned forward and placed all his weight on his hands as they met the table.

"So what you're telling me is that there's nothing out here? No relay, no planets, no stars or asteroids? I knew we were heading for dark space, but how freakin' far out into dark space are we?"

"Welkas is still looking into the ship's estimations for a more solid number, but he says we're pretty much sitting on the very edge of the galactic disc. I'm just as puzzled by the lack of a return relay as you are, since trying to get to the nearest mapped civilization from here would take decades without one."

Kevin suddenly just got the sinking feeling that he'd never see anything he had ever come to know in the galaxy again. He and Tyr both knew that they'd run out of fuel and supplies long, long before they made it back into the galaxy as they knew it. He could feel the human tendencies of panic and stark depression worming their way into his mind, but he was not about to succumb to that defeat. Not yet. Not after he'd finally made it out here.

"Does the rest of the crew know?" Kevin asked, his tone falling to that of dire seriousness.

"Other than Welkas, you and I, no. There's the basic premise of no immediate return relay, but I've been dodging the issue."

"That's probably for the best. That news can be a real. . . morale crusher."

"Don't I know it. Morale took enough of a hit as it is with the loss of captain Kortel, and we still have a lot of work to do."

"Chief Garloh!" Welkas called from the bridge.

"What is it, private?" Tyr said as he turned to look down the narrow corridor to the bridge.

"Some new frequency results are coming in. I might have at least something for us to scope out."

Tyr looked back to Kevin and they simultaneously started for the bridge. The chief sat in the chair to Kar's left and Kevin leaned over between the two quarians to get a look.

"There," Kar said as he pointed out coordinates on Tyr's terminal. "Take a look. What do you think?"

Tyr zoomed in on that area that Kar highlighted. It showed a large area of what appeared to be static in the middle of blank space.

"What the heck does static mean?" Kevin asked.

"If I had to guess," Tyr hypothesized, "I would have to say that it means the scanners are picking up something the computer doesn't know how to display. Could be something deliberately trying to avoid being seen with odd, but obviously lackluster, results."

"It's better than a huge, blank map," Kevin laughed.

"Indeed. Private, see if you can get us in for a closer look. No FTL. We need to make sure we're not flying into some exotic trap for confused and lost travelers."

"Understood. ETA is about seven hours."

"Seven hours?" Kevin asked, straightening up. "Bah. I guess I'll go try to sleep, then."

"Of course," Tyr nodded. "By all means. I know you and Arla had a rough time back there, even before the incident with the captain."

"Do you have to keep bringing her up?" Kevin asked as he exited the bridge.

Tyr didn't bother to reply, letting Kevin go about his business. Kevin felt the stinging pangs of hunger again and decided to have a big meal first. Already worn down by the day's events, Kevin's full stomach conjoined with his overall tiredness and sleep found its way to him much easier this time.