My body trembled, shivering in the darkness that held me prisoner. This sensation failed to leave me upon waking, every night without fail. Was this Xawin again, back in the endless blue and cold? Would a frozen landscape await if my eyes opened? Thinking on it, listening to my body as it told me about every ache and pain, the old sensation originated from my face and only facet. Everything else cosied tighter into the warmth. Actually, it felt too warm, burning. Oh, oh this hurt... ah fuck, this really hurt! Ah!

"I think she's awake," an amused male voice said.

"I fail to see what is amusing, salarian," a female one scolded. "She is in a great deal of pain. Now stop smiling and give the poor girl another dose of medi-gel," a heard someone scowl. My eyes fought open, staring up at the bottom of a bunk above my head. As information reached me, memories returned.

A quiet hum filled the room, the vibrating the air as the engine pushed us at FTL. There was no sign as to where we were, only the haziest of memories of a battle with Saren and that we escaped with our lives. A cold shiver ran down my spine as someone applied the medi-gel. The gel stung the wounds and bruises, causing a small moan of complaint. Something weighed down my face, a lumpy, freezing cold bag that covered an eye. It tumbled from my face with a flick of my head, listening to the clatter afterwards. It revealed itself as ice. My back burned from a bullet wound, my legs ached from all the running around in knee deep water. My body was none too pleased with me right now.

"We'll have her back on her feet in a few hours," a second salarian assured. "The bruising has faded. I forget humans heal as fast as they do," My vision cleared enough to stare up at someone's face, a salarian. He didn't look familiar. The red salarian glanced beside him as footfalls approached. He stood and saluted. Anthon slipped into my view. He leaned over me, giving me space but was close enough to get a good look at me in the din.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. A groaned answered him.

"Sore, confused. Was I out long?" I asked.

"2 days," the salarian chuckled. My eyes nearly hit the top bunk in surprise. "I informed Mat'al that we had located you and had you on board. He has been asking for daily status updates. I convinced him to not to put a tracker in your skin," his grin was wide. A scowl scrunched my face. Waking up with no idea what had happened was not a pleasant morning experience.

"He would suggest that, bastard," I grumbled. Anthon chuckled. My muscles relaxed against the hard bed. Unconscious for 2 days, was that why my muscles ached to hell and back? Anthon as he typed away on his omni-tool above my head.

"Are we heading to the Citadel?" I asked. Anthon nodded, gaze locked to the screen on his palm.

"We are, ETA 3 days," he answered. "Mat'al will be there a few days after to come pick you up," he said. My moan earned a chuckle from him. Straight back into action... with a few bullets with my name on it.

Memories rose from my sleepy mind. My nerve had held, I stood up for myself, made a demand of someone. And, as a bonus, they didn't laugh at me. My confidence puffed its chest out, although my common sense dragged it back down a peg or two. Raisha was to thank for that, as much as that irked me. What had she done that had helped me help my nerves stiffen up? Or had thinking about people close to me in danger that toughened me up? Mat'al had trained me in combat but had failed to tackle the nervousness. Everything he tried, failed. That left me with steady nerves in combat, but leaving me a total wreck the rest of the time. My fears fretted that Raisha had done little better.

But then again, her first question didn't have violence in it. My eyes focused on a stray strand of string above my head, dangling from the bunk above. What would Mat'al say to Keplar if they ever met? What would Val say he ever met Shepard again? Both non-violent meetings, although it might end in it. In the din of the small ship, cramped with salarians and krogan, the answers came.

Mat'al would smile at Keplar, an easy grin. He would spill words that would make Keplar squirm or enrage him, force him to make a mistake. 'Well, sir, there is always the salarians, or the asari, or the turians. I heard the Volus were looking for some geologists. If Endellion's talents are not being utilised to their fullest, there are other places she could go'. Mat'al would talk circles around any argument Keplar made. My contract? Only held so long as I was a member of the Normandy. My missing reports that had failed to appear on his desk? They were not the required planets that the Alliance demanded to be assessed. Therefore there was no requirement to submit them. It was so strange how the answer came so now, without a krogan breathing down my neck. But it wasn't even that. My mind couldn't comprehend someone making that bloody human squeal. After facing Saren, it was more plausible now.

Shepard and Val? Val was a hot-head, no stopping that. Shepard was a pyromaniacal asshole. Val's anger cannot contain itself and give Val the control he needed to stay calm. My imagination could see the turian march up to the smaller human, demanding answers. 'What had you been thinking? You threw her into a situation that required experienced combat skills! Too many unknowns!' All true. Temptation lingered to make that argument myself when we next met. Having faced Saren down, Shepard wasn't as daunting now. And Val wouldn't back down. No, that man needed someone to drag him away before the fists flew. But what about Saren? What happened to him?

"Lieutenant?" Anthon glanced up. "Any news from Virmire? Has anything happened?"

"Funniest thing," Anthon put that obnoxious orange billboard away. "About four hours after we left the planet, a nuclear explosion flattened the facility," he said. My expression opened. "Still trying to get a firm connection with STG, I suspected they did something. We were taken by hostiles while scouting, maybe the rest of the team finished that place,"

"And Saren?" I asked with my heart in my throat.

"No word, I think he escaped. He was a Spectre for a reason," Anthon frowned. A sound of agreement rumbled in my throat.

My muscles whined as they pushed me into a sitting position, ducking to avoid bashing my sore head against the metal slats of the bed above. The pain running down my back peaked, but my jaw clenched to silence the sounds wishing to escape. There were a few things to do before we reached the Citadel. First, my omni-tool stained the cubby hole purple, eyes blinking against the bright screen for a time. Val needed a message to let him know I was a) alive and b) in one piece. And it looks like there was no choice but to send him one. My mail box had six messages, four of which were from Val. The first was the calmest;

Hey Dell,
Just a quick message to see how training was going. I know you said a mission had come up so fingers crossed you earned no new scars. You humans are so delicate.
Valérien Autillin,
Turian Cabal Division

He sent that a day after Noveria. A gentle prod to see if everything was ok, no doubt. My head shook, a smile spreading. Damn turian didn't want me getting hurt, huh? This was the STG, getting hurt was part of the deal whether I wanted to or not! The second one was more edgy, sent two days after the first. During this time, Sovereign carried me to Virmire;

Hey Dell,
Not sure you got my last message, wouldn't be the first time a message got lost on the extranet. Just... send me a message when you get this alright? I'll speak to you soon.
Val,

Huh, he didn't even use his usual signature. That wasn't a good sign. My finger flicked onto the next message, and it was clear he worried by this point. Not panicking, that would be in the fourth one. But guilt trickled down my spine like gunge. This message was sent a day after the last. Virmire was about a day away at this point. My day tracker had been ruined ever since they took me onto Sovereign. It had been about 3 or 4 days.

Dell,
Is everything alright? I tried calling you but you never answered. Did I say something? Are you angry at me or something? Look I... I want to know you're alright. You're still new to the whole soldier thing so I want to make sure you're fine. Please answer.
Regards,
Val

Ah balls, he was even saying 'regards' now hoping a proper goodbye would get me to answer. My finger hesitated over the fourth one now. But to understand the whole situation, all of the messages had to be read. The date stamp was when during my time on Virmire, running around getting shot most likely;

Dell,
I don't know where the fuck you are or how that salarian lost you on Noveria. But if you are still alive – and get this message – then please, spirits, just let me know you're alive! Fuck, I'm going to kill that fucking salarian when I get my hands on him!
Just... keep doing what you're doing! You survived Feros, you'll get out of this one too. Please just... stay safe!
Val

It was... sweet. A frown formed, weight shuffling as his protective nature wished to shove me into a bubble, and whether that sat well with me. Mat'al would have a pissed off turian to deal with at this rate. Bless. he must've called the STG and got hold of Mat'al, trying to see if anyone had seen me. He learned of my mission to Noveria, may have found out about the rachni, and freaked out. What did he say to Mat'al when he found out? But there was a small problem to deal with. How to reply to him? Well, while it was sweet he worried, the annoyance was also present. Dammit, I wasn't that incapable of looking after myself!

At first, my fingers poured a large spill of text, providing a condensed version of what happened. But then a cynical streak weaved my words and payback shone like a beacon of opportunity. The message cleared, the subject title deleted and left it blank. In the body I wrote:

I'm alive.
Calm your shit

No name, no signature. Nothing. Let's see how he takes that. Maybe it was cruel, but he didn't say he wanted specifics, right? After hitting send, my fingers tapped past the warning that there was no subject. My neck rolled, wincing at the strain. With Val taken care of, a little chat with Raisha was needed. I had a few questions. Anthon watched from the corner of his eye as my knees whined about taking my weight again. Everything ached.

"Do you know... where Raisha is?" I asked, dragging air into my sore lungs. Anthon frowned at me.

"In the next room with the other females," he answered. "And I doubt she will be happy that you are up and about already,"

"I-I'll be fine," I said, giving him a brave smile before struggling through the small ship to the next room. In the cargo hold of this shuttle, the honey-crested krogan was found. She spoke to her female companions, she glanced over at the sound of the door opening.

"We shall be on Tuchanka soon. Bakara will want to know you are all in one piece," A few mumbles rang out. I lowered myself on a hard crate out of the way. What the krogan had been saying stayed private, their words too quiet and private to ear myself. With a nod, Raisha excused herself, working her way around to me. "You should not be up, young one," She scolded.

"I can't lie still for the entire trip," I argued. Raisha raise a brow, an unimpressed mother staring down her stubborn daughter. My throat cleared. "Is everyone alright?" I asked. Raisha nodded.

"We are more than happy to be returning home. But what of you, Endellion. Are you still haunted by the fears?" she asked.

"I'm... I'm not sure. Time will tell, I guess," I said with a shrug.

"It shall. So let it tell us," she said, my eyes narrowing as she sat down next to me. "As me a question, anything you like. And go for the jugular, as you humans say," She wanted me to ask an invasive question? Fine, play it her way. Best way to insult a woman?

"How old are you?" I asked. Raisha smiled.

"706, next," she said, my jaw on the floor. Ok, so when Wrex said krogan were long-lived, he wasn't joking. A frown grew. Go for the jugular?

"How did you get yourself and 12 other females captured by Saren in the first place?" I asked. Raisha's eyes turned away for a moment, lost in the memory. She took her time returning her gaze to mine.

"Saren had hired several krogan to his side, people we considered approachable. These krogan kidnapped us as we travelled to visit a clan. They bundled us onto ships and whisking us away to Virmire. There were others, however, they did not survive the experiments. So many tests, so much unnecessary pain. I do not know what Saren wished from us, only that he was growing a krogan army. How, I am afraid I do not know the answer," she explained. My glance scanned the females, most had huddled down to sleep, struggling to find room in the tiny cargo hold. My shoulders shook out. Time for answers.

"Raisha... what made you want to help me?" The krogan was silent for a time, watching the females. She remained silent, judging her words. She turned to face me, expression clouded.

"Whenever I looked at you, I saw a caged varren. A varren fighting and biting at the shackles that chained it. I do not know why you strike me as a varren. Of all things to pick from – with your small stature and the eyes of a nervous, friendly girl – I chose a varren to compare you to. But then, as I watched you, I soon came to realise why that image came to mind. Your rage, your frustration, you fought with yourself to speak, trying to crush whatever held you back. I wanted to help you. You need to carry the same confidence you have in the midst of a thousand geth as you would down a crowded street. At first, I thought the answer lay in anger, as it had with your combat confidence," she explained, her tone swelling and ebbing like a tide.

"But that didn't work," I said. Raisha shook her head, agreeing with me.

"No. You fought me, a physical foe, when I wanted to turn your gaze inwards to face the fear. Your instincts honed your rage for violence, not self-reflection. What would free you, I wondered. I doubted sadness would help, you would only crawl deeper into a pit of terror. But you had mentioned your combat teacher. You had people you knew, strong people willing to sacrifice their time for you. I hoped that by looking through someone else's eyes, to see how they viewed a situation, you would find the flaw of your fear and find your voice. You struggled, as most people do when trying to see from another. But perhaps you discovered more on the questions than you did on the answer. What were you afraid of, why were you afraid of them? These were the questions I wanted to direct you to. Combined with another's perspective, I hoped these would grant you some confidence,"

"It worked... kinda," I said. "I had to imagine a friend at the end of a gun to speak against Saren though," I admitted.

"So perhaps seeking your compassion and loyalty in times of need strength will aid you. Just as you seek anger to overcome the fear in combat, compassion can be your champion in diplomacy," she said. My face scrunched, a slight movement as her words spun in my head. "I wish for you to try this, when you next have the opportunity. When you need to speak to someone, to collect something for example, imagine that it is medicine for a close friend," my hackles rose. "And that the person you speak with is the only person with the cure,"

"That... won't end well," I coughed.

"For who?" Raisha asked.

"Them," I shuffled. Raisha chuckled.

"Then I hope I never have to cross your war path in the future," She smiled. A flush built up my neck.

"So, one more question," I asked, Raisha blinking. "Why did you smile when I headbutted you?" Raisha snorted.

"Allow me to make myself clear, Endellion. Ever belittle yourself to such a... barbaric reaction again, I will punish you as we would an unrestrained child. I will not tolerate such behaviour against myself or to any of my females," She said.

"But... Wrex said-" I stuttered.

"Wrex is a male krogan, I presume. They retort with violence, domination. The 'headbutt' is one of their ways to deal with each other. Not so with the females. Do so against a female, and you will walk away with a sore bottom," She crossed her arms with the force of her words. My flush burned hotter.

"B-but... why did you smile?" I flailed.

"Because I cracked you. I overtook your fear. However, the headbutt did not impress me," she frowned. "I had hoped without the gun you would resort to diplomacy, instead, rage lit your combat instincts and you reacting with such. Had you been my daughter, I would have had you scrubbing this ship top to bottom," My expression dropped to a glower, trying to beat the flush creeping up. "Now, this brings me to my question," Her stare was solid, unmoving. "I must ask why you are up. You were in pain a few minutes ago," A cough overcame me.

"Can't sit on my arse all day. Besides, the medi-gel's kicked in. I'll be fine!" I said. It pain throbbed throughout my body, but it was survivable. Raisha scowled. "Raisha, I'm fine! This is nothing compared to what happened to me when Mat'al trained me," Still the krogan stern look did not lift. It dropped deeper, unhappy at my resistance.

"No, young one," Raisha shook her head. "You need to rest. Who knows what you will find on the Citadel when you arrive," My mouth opened to argue, but the tall krogan towered over my seated form. She even had the nerve to pluck me off the ground like a spoilt kitten. My limbs flailed under her grip as she all but dragged me. Back in the bunk room, I cursed Raisha's name until she pushed me back on the cot. Anthon's amusement caused my cheeks to heat, ignoring the amused expression his face was impossible as Raisha crossed her arms by the bunk.

"Raisha," I tried in a calm voice. "I'm fine," It failed.

"I care not, Endellion. You will remain here, and if I must tie you to the cot to keep you in it, I shall," she said.

My glower worsened at the krogan, but she was not frightened. Against a krogan, there was little to use against her. Let her win this fight, I reasoned. There will be others, I'm sure. So lying back on the bed for a few hours, waiting for sleep to arrive. My back burned and my face throbbed in time to my heartbeat. Note to self, don't get punched by a turian. Don't get punched in the face at all. Or headbutt krogans. My hands rubbed my forehead, trying to feel for any fractures. Yeah, Raisha had little to fear on the headbutting front. As time drifted onwards, the hum of the ship lulled me into a doze. Sleep grabbed me then.

The sea of gold, red and green surrounded me, the dream that refused to leave. Well, it was not how it had been before, my memories of the dreams shattered by the crystal clear reality. What lay before me struck me more than Nyryntha's revelation. Bile rose to my mouth. My unheard scream muffled as Sovereign like ships decorated the horizon. Reapers. Reapers covered the horizon, the landscape, the sky. Brilliant red lasers kicking up a sea of dust wherever they struck. The dull green was plants and trees, a setting sun staining the landscape in red and gold. Vegetation burning under the red lasers, blinded me. High in the air, my eyes flew down at a feline like race with wings sprouted on their backs. They fired weapons and cannons at me. A leg moved, my leg. Horror drowned me as a massive leg, much like Sovereign's, moved into view. Brilliant amber bullets swam before me, but did nothing to me.

I was a Reaper. And I was watching the systematic eradication of an entire race.

My lungs released a scream, a plead to stop the machines. There was no control to wrestle back from the Reaper, leaving me powerless. Cables burrowed under my skin locked me in a wall of wire, arms pulled out, leaving me hanging like a cross. My skin wasn't my own. Amber fur covered me. My legs disappeared into the wall of blue-lit cables. I wasn't human, this was the body whatever this species was. Oh God, they were destroying their people, my people! My screams never reached the aliens, begging them to run. But the slaughter... the slaughter was unstoppable. Then a large Reaper landed nearby. Six golden eyes locked on me, crushing any aliens under its legs without thought or care. The Reaper made every muscle freeze. Breath never came, thoughts incoherent, struggled to comprehend this... machine.

"Nyryntha. You have been chosen to be an Advocacy. In 5 cycles, you shall aid the Vanguard," it said in a monotone voice, deep, authoritative. My frame trembled. My Reaper turned to face the larger, six-eyed one.

"As you command, Harbinger. I will meet with the Vanguard and Architect in due course," was Nyryntha's answer. Her voice drowned every sane thought from my head, driving me mad. The restraints refused to yield, embedded in my skin. I couldn't help them... couldn't save them...

Kar'loch!

My eyes flew open, staring into the muted darkness of the ship. My throat was moist and still, not a scream had ripped from my throat throughout the entire dream. A calm, collected breathing rhytym and dry skin added to the confusion. This... this hadn't been like the other nightmares. No, no this one was different. What had been that race? Prothean? Or was it from a race long ago? A memory of Nyryntha's? They said 5 cycles? Tali mentioned something about a 50'000 year cycle. So this would be about... 250'000 years ago. My hands rubbed my eyes, my pounding head sounded like a drum. Nothing made sense. I needed answers, answers to protect those close to me. But my answers would not come from Nyryntha.

I was on my own. And there wasn't a soul in the universe who could help me.