.

"We need to take care of that Harvester."

"All of our airships are already engaged."

"Shepard is going to stop it."

"... How?"

.

.

"This should be messy..."

And dangerous - to the point of being suicide - the pragmatic part of his mind pointed out. Shepard couldn't let that stop him, as the Harvester was already within range and was moving fast.

The vanguard collected his biotic energy and willed himself up into the air. His destination wasn't in front of the Harvester, nor atop it, but inside the monstrosity. As the field that had transported him across the battlefield dissipated he pushed as much of his power into his barrier as he could.

There was a horrible, wretched hissing followed by a sudden, impossible pressure, and then nothing.

.

.

"Friend's doesn't cut it for me anymore, Liara."

"Well, that sounds serious!"

"I am serious. Whatever happens - I'd like to spend my life with you."

.

.

He was falling.

That was odd.

It wasn't normal for him to be falling.

Shepard's eyesight returned as did his senses, and the vanguard realized that the ground was approaching at an alarming rate. Additionally, the ground was covered with an alarming number of Reaper fodder. Not good.

Or was it?

With a roar, Shepard once again enveloped himself within his biotics and used the field to propel himself downward, while simultaneously creating a barrier of force before him. He hit the ground, and the reaper forces, with a mind-tearing thud that sent biotic energy, and the reaper forces, flying through the air.

.

.

"Holy shit..."

"Right?"

.

.

"How many got through?"

"Close to two hundred thousand."

"Can the Crucible support that many?"

"Just barely... We've already began transporting the refugees to-"

"Do it as quickly as possible. We have to get out of this system. The Reaper's know the relay led to Ilos and they'll be here before too long."

"I'd like to do some data collection. The researchers here have done... adequate work, but they lack inspiration. The Protheans here manage to avoid discovery by the Reapers, there's a chance the methods they used to do so are buried somewhere."

"Good idea, but once we get the refugees on the Crucible we are leaving, Liara."

"I know. Shepard?"

"Yes?"

"More could have escaped with the fleet. We don't know if we were the only ones who made it."

"I know, Liara. I know."

.

.

"They knew what we were planning."

"It's probable they always knew. The crucible itself is, in all likelihood, a tool they've used over and over in culling after culling. The idea an entity that could destroy the Reapers has been passed down from generation to generation without them learning of it is... well... looking back, it does seem like it should have been rather obvious it was too good to be true."

"Hard to say. It was hope in a hopeless situation. Without it, we might have lost this war a long time ago."

"I'm still not sure we haven't..."

"You're probably right, but I have no intention of giving up just yet."

"Can't say I disagree... but..."

"I know you can't do anything for me anymore, Shepard. I know the Crucible was Earth's last hope. We'll never stop fighting, but I know what it would cost to save us."

I could send a ship. Take the Normandy and-"

"Like hell. Nobody here will take you up on that ride, and if you waste resources on some hair-brained rescue I will personally strip you of your rank put you behind a desk so quick even your biotics will be dizzy."

"That's quick... It's been an honor, sir."

"Likewise."