"Thinking"
"Talking"
"Impactful word"
Hackett POV
Admiral Steven Hackett stood firm, hands clasped behind his back, as the Prime Minister of the Systems Alliance scowled at him from behind his desk. The office was warm, but Hackett felt none of it.
"You haven't made one grave mistake in your entire career," Amul Shastri said, his voice like a whetstone sharpening steel. "And then this... flub?"
Hackett neither flinched nor reacted. He had faced worse, stood his ground against men and women far more intimidating than the Prime Minister of the Alliance. But the weight in his chest told him this wasn't just another briefing, another damage control operation. This was a turning point.
A slow breath in. Control the tempo. Keep it professional.
"Aye," he said simply.
He knew what Shastri was thinking. The Alpha Relay, a critical asset in the Bahak System, was gone—destroyed by an asteroid impact set in motion by a team of indoctrinated Alliance operatives. That team had been under his orders, and though the indoctrination shifted the blame, it didn't make him feel any less responsible. If Shepard hadn't intervened, over 300,000 Batarian lives would have been lost. Instead, they were saved, but the crisis had only deepened—what could've been a massacre was now a full-scale humanitarian disaster.
It was the right call. It was the only call.
And yet, here he stood, watching the Prime Minister wrestle with the political fallout of an act that should have been hailed as a miracle.
Instead, they were bracing for war.
Shastri muted his omni-tool as a fifth call from Udina buzzed across his desk. Hackett knew the Councilor had likely caught wind of something. Udina wasn't one for subtlety—his political maneuvers were always direct, sometimes aggressive, but rarely patient. If he was calling this urgently, it meant he either had partial information or suspected something, and was pushing for answers before he could be caught off guard. Always in control, always ready to leverage his position.
If Anderson had called, that would be another matter entirely.
Hackett had infinitely more respect for Anderson than most politicians. The man had been a soldier first, an officer before a Councilor. He understood the reality of war—the choices, the cost. Anderson would want answers, not leverage. And if Anderson called, Hackett would answer.
But not Udina. Not now.
Shastri leaned back, rubbing his temples. "Are the Batarians mobilizing?"
"No sign of it," Hackett replied. "Lindholm's First Fleet is monitoring the border, but so far, no movement."
Shastri exhaled, clearly torn between relief and exhaustion. "We need to avoid escalation at all costs. If we start moving fleets now, we'll only make them more suspicious."
Hackett gave a slight nod. "Agreed."
Silence settled over the room, thick with unspoken questions. Shastri's eyes bored into him, reading between the lines. The Prime Minister was a sharp man—too sharp.
"What the hell were we really doing in Bahak, Admiral?" Shastri finally asked, voice quiet but laced with accusation. "The military's official stance claims there is no Reaper threat."
"Officially, yes." Hackett's voice remained even. No room for hesitation. "Partially to avoid panic, but just as much because we still don't know their numbers, speed, need for relays to travel, armament, shielding—" He exhaled sharply. "Frankly, we don't know nearly enough."
Shastri crossed his arms, nodding slowly. He wasn't convinced, but at least he was listening.
"And that's why Amanda's research was critical," Hackett added.
There. That was the moment. A flicker of recognition crossed Shastri's face. Dr. Amanda Kenson. The scientist who had uncovered the imminent Reaper invasion. The woman who had set this entire disaster into motion.
Hackett could feel the weight pressing down on his ribcage, but he didn't let it show.
The Prime Minister studied him, then spoke carefully. "And what's your solution, Admiral?"
"Shepard overheard a prison guard talking about 'humans in the asteroid belt.' We don't know if the Hegemony has figured out it was us yet," Hackett admitted. "If they had concrete proof, we'd already be hearing their outcries echoing across the galaxy."
Shastri's fingers tapped against his desk. "So what do you propose?"
Hackett cracked his knuckles, thinking.
"We keep a low profile along the border. No fleet movements. No communication with the Hegemony. We let them wonder."
"And let Udina and the Council do the same?"
"For now, yes."
Shastri smirked, his expression betraying no humor. He understood the stakes. Udina was a man of action, when it suited him. Relentless in his pursuit of his goals, but if he acted too soon, he'd risk forcing the issue and losing any chance at controlling the narrative. Anderson, on the other hand—Anderson had the tact and experience to handle this delicately. He'd be an asset, no questions asked.
"Not a bad idea," Shastri admitted. "But you should still request a closed-door briefing with the Board and Defense Committee. Before Udina forces one."
"Already arranged."
Hackett's voice didn't waver, but his body felt heavier than it had in weeks.
Shastri studied him again—really studied him this time. His gaze drifted lower, to Hackett's hands, which were no longer clasped together. They were flexing, fingers brushing against his palm. A nervous tell he hadn't indulged since his first deployment.
"... Admiral," Shastri said carefully. "I have to ask."
Hackett's gaze flicked to him.
"Were Dr. Kenson and you... together?"
A muscle in Hackett's jaw twitched.
I fail to see how that is anyone's business.
That was what he wanted to say. But the words stuck.
He exhaled through his nose. "Not in years."
Shastri waited, silent, expectant.
Hackett sighed, rolling his shoulders. "We dated, briefly, when we first met. Over fifteen years ago."
Shastri's posture softened slightly, relief evident. "I wouldn't ask if it weren't important," he said, his voice tinged with something close to sympathy. "If the Batarians figure out that the woman responsible for the relay's destruction was once the Alliance's highest-ranking Admiral's partner..."
Hackett scoffed, shaking his head. "It wouldn't have made a difference."
Because the truth was worse.
She was my friend.
And he had sent her into that hell alone.
His hands clenched. He had ordered Amanda Kenson's rescue because he owed her. Because she had risked everything to get that warning to Shepard. Because if they ignored her and the Reapers came, no one would be left to point fingers at their mistakes.
But now, she was gone.
Hackett inhaled slowly. The weight in his chest wasn't just the loss of a friend.
It was regret.
For putting Amanda in danger. For not seeing the warning signs. For trusting the wrong intelligence, sending her deep into a pit of vipers alone, assuming she could handle it.
And now, as if fate had decided he hadn't suffered enough, he was left wondering if he'd see Jane ever again.
She was to walk into the Omega-4 Relay soon. With no promise of return, no precedent, no second chances of confessing his feelings to her.
Will I lose her again?
Hackett straightened. His expression remained unreadable.
"I'm sorry for asking," Shastri said. "But if this spirals out of control, we need to be ahead of it."
Hackett didn't argue.
He only nodded.
In the silence that followed, he mourned not only the loss of a friend, but also the love he had long acknowledged but never confessed, now on the brink of being lost forever.
Akane POV
The young woman flinched slightly as the needles hurt more than she expected. The salarian prodding at her many wounds with swift and firm hands, frantically muttering under his breath. Shepard introduced him as Mordin, a doctor of science, and apologized about his nature in advance.
It was quite alright, she cared not that his mouth ran faster than his hands, even if she missed the gentle touch of Dr Chakwas.
Hilo and Posk were standing vigilantly at the corner of the med bay, talking back and forth in fervent whispers. Far enough to stay out of the doctor's way, but close enough to intervene. Smiling a little, she wondered not for the first time, the fortune she had to have found such good friends.
Was she prepared to ask them to stay behind?
In not even a day, they would be off to another unknown part of the galaxy. They had a way in, but what about the way out? Certain death was a guarantee.
To top it all of, the crew of the Normandy had been kidnapped, forcing them to chase after them prematurely.
On the positive side. Her chakra was slowly replenishing, with Akane having just skirted the edges of chakra exhaustion. It would have left her unable to join this mission.
Mordin hummed as he ran his omni-tool over her, his large fingers pressing into various points on her arm, shoulder, and neck with clinical precision. "Signs of severe fatigue. Biotic overuse? No, odd. Neural strain without eezo nodules—unusual. Elevated stress markers, rapid cellular recovery. Curious."
Akane arched a brow. "It's not biotics."
Mordin's hands stilled for half a second before resuming. "Hmm. Not biotics. Yet similar effects—muscle depletion, energy drain, nervous system strain. Intriguing. Alternate mechanism? Evolutionary adaptation? Or external energy source?" His eyes snapped to hers. "Source?"
She exhaled, half amused, half exhausted. "You wouldn't believe me."
Mordin straightened, his expression sharpening. "Have treated krogan blood fever, salarian cognitive collapse, human cyber-neurological decay. Have extracted venom from yahg bite—while patient was still trying to eat me. Believe many things."
Akane smirked. "And yet, you still wouldn't believe me."
He hummed in thought, then let it drop. "Fine. Unknown variable. Will classify under 'classified human anomaly' for now. Regardless—recovery progressing, but body is depleted. Would advise rest."
She scoffed lightly. "That's not happening."
Mordin sighed. "Expected response. Shepard's team consistently disregards medical advice. Terminally reckless."
Akane hummed in agreement. "And yet, we always survive."
"For now." His omni-tool beeped, and he flicked through the data. "Will prepare stimulant cocktail. Temporary boost—short duration, potential side effects. Jitteriness, elevated heart rate, possible sensory hallucinations in extreme cases."
Akane tilted her head, slightly alarmed. "Hallucinations?"
"Minor. Uncommon. One patient claimed to see double. Another saw dancing pyjaks. Third became convinced his hands were made of cheese."
"... Cheese?"
Mordin shrugged. "Chemical reactions unpredictable. Still, should prevent mid-mission collapse." He glanced at her knowingly. "Not ideal. But necessary, yes?"
Akane nodded.
Mordin sighed again, muttering as he turned to his equipment. "Unwise. Irresponsible. Completely in line with Normandy crew standard."
She exhaled, rolling her shoulder. "You talk fast, but your hands are steady. Chakwas train you?"
"Hmm? No, natural talent. Extensive field experience. Also, superior dexterity. Salarian physiology." He shot her a quick, satisfied look. "But compliment appreciated."
She quipped. "Didn't say it was a compliment."
Mordin responded with a grin. "Implication clear. Patient stable. Dismissed."
When the doctor left, Akane stretched her weary muscles before swinging her legs off the bed. A brief wave of dizziness washed over her as she sat up, the effects of what felt like an eternity spent napping lingering in her head.
Satisfied with the Salarians' adequate care, Akane stood and walked toward her companions, their backs turned to offer her some semblance of privacy.
Before she could speak, Posk suddenly surged forward, catching her off guard. Akane tensed, frozen for a moment, until the shock faded and her arms remembered what to do. The unexpected hug, as out of character as it was, filled her with an unexpected warmth.
Was he playful? Yes. Dramatic? Yes. Irritating to the point of anger? Absolutely.
But emotional? Rarely.
"Never do that again, please?" Posk whispered, pulling away, and the words touched a tender spot in her heart, disarming the retort she had ready.
"Okay, I won't."
"You better not. Or I'll hack your omni-tools and turn your swords pink." He squeezed her shoulder affectionately twice before his hands dropped. She met his playful gaze with a deadpan expression, utterly serious.
"We're glad you made it out safe. We weren't sure after the last message," Hilo confessed, his fingers twitching at his side, clearly torn between two actions.
Akane read him easily and didn't hesitate before enveloping him in a tight hug. He sighed, his tension bleeding away piece by piece. After a moment, she took a small step back, looking at him with kindness, touched by how deeply he cared.
It took her a while to realize there were people who truly did.
Standing on the Normandy once more, it became clear—there were always people who cared for her more than she realized. And it was her who had rejected them in the first place.
Akane had barely stepped past the threshold of the med bay before a body barreled into her with all the force of a freighter crash.
"What were you thinking back there, you—you bosh'tet!"
Akane staggered as Tali crushed her in a fierce embrace, slim arms locking tight enough to strain even her well-conditioned muscles. The quarian was shaking—whether from rage, relief, or both, Akane couldn't tell.
"Leaving me without a message. Do you have any idea how worried I was?!" Tali's voice cracked as she all but shrieked in Akane's ear. "Two years! Two years! No note, no comms, nothing! Do you know what that felt like?"
Akane opened her mouth, but before she could get a word in, Tali shook her—hard. Her vision blurred before her head lolled from the force.
From somewhere behind them, Garrus cleared his throat. "Uh, Tali, maybe you should—"
"SHUT UP!"
Everyone in the hallway jumped at the sheer force of Tali's fury. Even Garrus flinched, his mandibles twitching as he took a step back, wisely keeping his mouth shut.
Tali's breathing was ragged, her grip unrelenting. But her anger bled away as suddenly as it had come, and she sagged against Akane, clinging like a drowning woman to driftwood.
"I thought you were dead." Her voice was barely a whisper now. "I thought… I thought I'd lost you, like I lost the others. And then Shepard told us you made it, but you still never—" She cut herself off with a shudder. "Why, Akane?"
Akane inhaled slowly, the weight of Tali's heartbreak settling like a stone in her gut. She had imagined this moment countless times over the years—what she would say, how she would say it. But now, standing here, she had no excuse—no good one, anyway. She rested a steady hand on Tali's back, letting the silence linger before finally speaking.
"I'm sorry, Tali."
It wasn't enough. Nothing would be. But Tali only let out a shaky sigh, squeezing her tighter for a few more seconds before finally pulling back. She still looked pissed, but her hands twitched like she wanted to reach for Akane again.
"I'm not done being mad at you," she huffed, arms crossing over her chest. "But I'm glad you're here."
Akane nodded, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. "Me too."
A deep, familiar chuckle rumbled from behind them. "Damn, you really know how to make an entrance."
She turned to see Garrus watching her, arms at the hips, one mandible flaring slightly in amusement—but his eyes told a different story.
"Mister Vakarian," she greeted, offering a half-smirk.
"Uchiha," he returned smoothly. "Not every day someone rises from the dead twice. You're starting to make Shepard look bad."
His casual tone didn't fool her. There was tension in his stance, coiled beneath the armor, just restrained enough that most wouldn't notice. But Akane knew him better than that.
"You taught me well," she quipped. "If I ever die for real, I'll be sure to leave a note next time."
Garrus' mandibles flicked in that subtle way they did when he was annoyed but trying not to show it. "You better. Or I'll hunt you down in the afterlife myself."
A ghost of a grin tugged at her lips. "Looking forward to it."
But the teasing didn't last. The silence between them thickened as Garrus held her gaze, his usual easy manner giving way to something heavier. His fingers flexed at his side, his stance shifting—hesitation.
"I was there when we searched for you," he finally said, voice lower, rougher. "What happened on Virmire. What happened to you." He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Damn stupid move, staying behind with that bomb."
She shrugged, trying for nonchalance. "Wasn't much of a choice."
"Bullshit." His tone was sharp now. "You always had a choice. And you didn't even let us—" He stopped himself, jaw clenching. "Didn't let me help."
That caught her off guard. He wasn't just mad that she'd disappeared—he was mad that she hadn't let him have her back when it counted.
Akane tilted her head. "You think you could've stopped me?"
A low chuckle. "No," he admitted. "But I sure as hell would've tried."
She let that sit between them, taking in the way he watched her now—like he was still trying to reconcile the person he used to know with the one standing in front of him.
The thing about Akane was that even when she had looked like a child, she had never acted like one. Even when she technically was one, she carried herself with the level-headed poise of a seasoned soldier. If he was being truly honest, it had unsettled him at the time. Frankly, it had unsettled most of the original crew—that uncanny mix of youthful energy and a maturity that took most people years of hardship to develop. She never wavered, never hesitated, never flinched at horrors that would shake even hardened veterans. It was as if she had been born into war, molded by it, never knowing anything else.
But now, for the first time, her body matched the presence she had always carried. She wasn't just playing the part of a soldier—she was one. Taller now, her frame no longer just lean but built for speed and impact, powerful muscle packed into every movement. She had nearly reached his height, an impressive feat, and the sharp-edged features that once carried hints of boyish youth had refined into something more defined, more dangerous. The last traces of softness, the lingering baby fat that once betrayed her age, were long gone.
Yet, time had taken as much as it had given. The fire on Virmire had stolen her long hair, her eyebrows—any remnants of softness she might have had. Her scalp was marked by the chaotic webbing of scars, the aftermath of burns that no surgery could fully repair. And yet, despite it all, she carried herself with the same unwavering confidence, the same piercing focus that had always made her seem older than she was.
He had his own marks—his own trophies. The rocket that nearly ended him had carved a vicious path across his face, leaving fractures in his plates that even the best surgeons couldn't fully mend. They both bore their wounds, souvenirs of battles survived but not necessarily won.
"You got hit worse than I thought," she murmured, her eyes flicking over the scars that marred his mandible, the cracks along his plating.
He huffed, shifting slightly. "Yeah, well. Turns out getting shot in the face isn't as fun as it looks."
She smirked faintly. "Wish I could say I was surprised."
Garrus rolled his eyes, but his expression softened as his gaze traced the scars running over her scalp. "And you?" His voice lost its usual bite.
Akane shrugged, running a hand over her bald head. "Fire isn't exactly kind."
He nodded, silent for a moment before speaking again. "Does it still hurt?"
"Not in the way you think."
A slow nod. He understood. Of course he did.
A beat passed. Then, with a tired sigh, he shook his head. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"
"Yeah," she said, smiling gently. "I know."
Garrus' mandibles twitched, his gaze softening just a fraction. "Good to have you back, Akane."
She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Good to be back."
And for the first time since stepping onto the Normandy again, she believed it.
Shepard POV
"Shepard, I wish I had more information for you. I don't like you heading through that relay blind, but we don't have much choice," TIM said, standing away from his chair for once.
"Somehow, I find that hard to believe. Lucky for me, I'm not going alone. I've got some of the best working for me—even the famous Terminus Saint."
A flicker of surprise passed through his cybernetic eyes, as though he had discounted any cooperation from them. "I knew we brought you back for a reason. I've never seen a better leader. Despite the danger, it's a great opportunity. The first human to take a ship through... and survive."
Shepard scoffed. "I've got room on the Normandy if you're that eager to see it."
"It's a tempting offer, but not my place."
Shepard hummed to herself. It was worth a shot.
"I just wanted you to know that I appreciate the risk you're taking."
That was... oddly nice of him.
"Regardless of your opinion on Cerberus, or on me, you are... a valuable asset. To all of humanity. Be careful, Shepard."
The connection cut abruptly. Maybe it was better that way.
Shepard exhaled, steadying herself. There wasn't time to dwell.
"EDI, call in the crew."
One by one, they filtered into the communications room, finding their places—her team, the ones she had fought beside, bled beside. Jane had her doubts at first, but now, there was no better crew for this monumental task. Some leaned against the walls, arms crossed, waiting. Others stood at attention, eyes sharp with anticipation.
She let the silence settle before she spoke.
"This isn't how we planned this mission," she began, her voice firm. "But plans don't mean much when you're up against something like this. We adapt, or we die."
No one looked surprised. They had all signed up knowing this wasn't a fight they'd walk away from easily.
"That being said," she continued, "this mission just changed. We have an edge we didn't before—people who've been fighting the Collectors for two years. They know more about them than anyone alive."
She pressed a button on the console, and the door slid open.
Three figures stepped in—battle-worn, wary, carrying themselves with the pride of hunters. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Shepard felt the shift in the room. The Normandy crew watched the newcomers with quiet scrutiny and guarded suspicion. Some narrowed their eyes, assessing. Others stole glances at Akane, now seeing her in full.
There was no hostility, but a kind of tense judgment, the kind that came when outsiders entered a space built on trust.
Shepard didn't let it linger. "Meet the crew of the Iktomi—and the Terminus Saint."
She let the name settle, watching the flicker of recognition, the wariness. It didn't matter. They'd learn soon enough.
She squared her shoulders. "I don't usually do late additions, but they've been in this fight longer than any of us. And Akane—" She glanced at her, holding her gaze just a moment longer than necessary, "—has been part of my crew since the first Normandy. I trust them as much as I trust any of you."
Still, no one spoke. The silence stretched, heavy with meaning.
Shepard let it sit before she moved on. "This is a suicide mission. You knew that when you signed on—but our deal was with Cerberus, not each other. If anyone wants to walk, now's your chance. No one will think less of you for it."
A beat of quiet. Then—
Someone scoffed. "Like hell, Shepard."
Garrus crossed his arms, mandibles twitching in what might've been a smirk. "You really think we'd bail now?"
Tali let out a quiet huff. "You should know better."
"Stupid idea." Grunt grumbled from his corner.
Even Zaeed gave a gruff nod. "Damn shame, Shepard. Here I was hoping to retire to some quiet hellhole with a beach after this."
Jack snorted. "Yeah, well, you wouldn't last a week, old man," she added, jerking a thumb toward Zaeed. "Some sunburnt bastard would look at you wrong, and suddenly it's a bloodbath."
Kasumi hummed in agreement. "Besides, what would you even do with peace, Zaeed? Get a hobby?"
"Knitting," Thane murmured, deadpan.
Zaeed scowled. "Fuck all of you."
Shepard allowed a slight smile to flicker on her face. "That's what I thought."
She turned toward the newcomers. "Welcome to the fight."
The quarian introduced himself as Hilo'Jaa, and the batarian as Posk, before stepping aside to allow Akane to approach.
"Thank you for having us, Commander Shepard."
"Glad to have you back, Akane. Let's get to the point, can you give us some insight into the Collectors?" Shepard asked, tapping the console to bring up EDI's data.
Akane stepped forward, signaling for Hilo to pull up their findings. She analyzed the data before speaking.
"The Collectors are notorious for bizarre trade requests," she began, eyes flicking between the display and Shepard. "They offer technology far beyond anything we've seen, but in exchange, they demand specific living beings—two dozen left-handed salarians, sixteen sets of batarian twins, a krogan born to parents from feuding clans... you get the idea."
"Never humans?" Shepard interjected.
"Not at first. But about a month after the Battle of the Citadel, they started showing interest. They showed up on Omega, looking to buy humans from the Blue Suns."
Zaeed tensed. "Slave trade. How far did Vigo let it fall?"
Akane glanced at him but continued. "Aria shut it down quick, but it was a minor setback for the Collectors. They began raiding colonies. The demand for humans skyrocketed. Entire slave rings, gangs, even governments got involved. My crew stopped a few of the raids, but the rest weren't so lucky."
"Quite the understatement, considering there's a seven-figure bounty on your head," Miranda noted dryly.
Akane shrugged. "The Hegemony doesn't like me much. Neither do the Collectors. Eventually, they decided to take matters into their own hands."
She paused. "At least twelve human colonies have been attacked. The first six happened while Commander Shepard was... out of commission. My crew managed to stop three, but the rest weren't so lucky. The Collectors cover their tracks. They erase their involvement every time."
"Cyrene, Fehl Prime, Ferris Fields, Freedom's Progress, Horizon, New Canton," Shepard read aloud, her expression grim.
Akane nodded. "Some were saved. Others weren't. And the Collectors made sure no one knew they were behind it."
"But why?" Garrus asked, his voice full of disbelief. "Why kidnap people?"
"It all comes down to the Reapers." Akane's tone darkened. "Do you remember Sovereign? What it said on Virmire? The cycle? The harvest? What do you think they harvest?"
Garrus frowned, realization dawning. "Life?"
"Exactly. But for what purpose, I'm not sure," Akane said. "Sovereign claimed they impose order on organic evolution."
"Too vague," Mordin muttered, pacing. "Leaves too much open to interpretation."
Akane nodded. "I have a theory, if you're interested."
The crew leaned forward, intrigued.
"I believe every Reaper is a biomechanical construct—an amalgamation of the species they harvest and their advanced synthetic technology."
Mordin grimaced. "If that's true, then they're using humans to build another Reaper—a human one."
Shepard's stomach churned. "A human Reaper?" The words didn't feel right. "Is that what all of this is leading to?"
"Maybe," Akane nodded grimly. "Think about it. It explains their sudden interest in humans after the Battle of the Citadel. If they're building a new Reaper, they need the right raw material. They're selective—probably looking for genetic markers or specific traits."
Silence blanketed the room.
"Troubling," Mordin murmured. "Implications severe. Not just about harvesting—about design. A methodical evolution. Patterned extinction."
"So they're not just killing us," Garrus said, his voice tight. "They're using us."
Akane met his gaze. "That's what I believe. Every cycle, the Reapers don't just wipe out civilizations—they incorporate them. And humanity is next."
"Fucking hell." Jack grunted.
Zaeed let out a sharp breath. "And here I thought I'd seen the worst of it."
Shepard's jaw clenched. "All the more reason to stop them before they finish."
"Agreed," Akane said quietly. "We go in fast. We hit them before they can complete their work. And then... we make sure they never get the chance again."
Akane POV
The hum of the Iktomi's systems was the only sound in the crew quarters. Outside the ship, Omega was alive with its usual chaos—shouting, brawls, and the ever-present hum of neon advertisements flickering through the station's murky air. But inside, all was quiet. Most of the crew had disembarked for supplies or a rare moment of leisure, leaving Akane with something she rarely experienced: solitude.
She lay on her bunk, armor set aside for the first time in what felt like days. The mission on Aratoth had drained her more than she wanted to admit, and even now, fatigue clung to her limbs like a heavy weight. She wasn't asleep—at least, not deeply—but she drifted in and out, lulled by the quiet and the rhythmic cycle of ship ventilation.
Then, her omni-tool vibrated against the bedside table. The soft but insistent pulse cut through the haze of exhaustion, snapping her fully awake. Her eyes flickered open, adjusting to the dim lighting. A message notification glowed against the dark orange interface.
From: Jien Garson
Subject: A New Beginning
Akane,
I wanted you to hear it from me before the news becomes widespread. The Andromeda Initiative is leaving. Three of the four Arks have launched, with the Nexus not far behind. We're truly doing this. We're leaving the Milky Way behind.
It still feels unreal. You know better than anyone how long this dream has been in the making. I should be excited—ecstatic, even. But all I can think about is the people we're leaving behind. The people like you, who refuse to turn away from what's coming.
You were right about a lot of things. I just wish I had been able to see it sooner. Maybe then, I wouldn't feel like such a coward.
I want to believe that we'll find a future out there, a future worth all this sacrifice. But I won't lie to you—there's a part of me that is terrified. We don't know what awaits us. I only hope it's something better.
I don't know if our paths will ever cross again, Akane. But I promise you, I will do as you asked. I won't look back.
Take care of yourself, old friend. And... thank you.
Akane let the words settle, her grip on the omni-tool tightening. She stared at the message, reading between the lines, feeling the unspoken weight behind Jien's words. This was it. They were gone. She had always known this day would come, yet the reality of it struck deeper than she expected.
Jien had called herself a coward, but Akane knew better. It took strength to leave, to chase an uncertain future when the alternative was waiting for destruction to claim them. Jien's path had never been hers to follow, but she respected it nonetheless.
A long breath escaped her lips.
"Good luck, Jien," she murmured, closing her omni-tool.
She lay there for a moment longer before swinging her legs over the edge of the bunk. Rest would not come now. There was still too much to be done. The Reapers were coming. And she had no intention of letting them win.
Rest wouldn't come—not anymore. There was too much to be done. Too much at stake. With a steadying breath, she swung her legs over the edge of the bunk, the cool floor grounding her thoughts as she pushed herself up. She grabbed a fresh set of clothes, pulling them on with mechanical efficiency before making her way to the kitchen.
She moved on autopilot, preparing something simple—nutrient-dense, nothing fancy. She wasn't paying attention to the motions, just letting them happen while her mind stayed elsewhere. She thought about Jien, about the arks slipping away into dark space, about all the people aboard who had no idea what they were leaving behind. Would they ever know? Would the Initiative's grand vision survive, or would it just be another doomed dream lost to history?
By the time she'd eaten, she barely remembered tasting the food at all. She was still lost in thought when the sound of boots against metal stirred her from her daze.
Posk's sharp voice cut through the quiet. "Hey, you dead in there or—mmph!"
A slim hand clamped over his mouth before he could finish. Hilo fixed him with a withering look, all four of Posk's eyes rolling in exaggerated protest as he reluctantly fell silent. Hilo turned his attention to Akane, calling her name gently, carefully, as if trying not to spook a wounded animal.
Akane blinked, the world snapping back into focus. "Oh. Welcome back." Her voice sounded distant even to her own ears.
Hilo studied her for a moment before tilting his head. "What's wrong?"
She exhaled through her nose, already turning the words over in her mind before speaking. "I don't feel comfortable dragging you into this."
Hilo stilled, his expression unreadable. But Posk, as expected, reacted instantly, his thoughts unfiltered.
"Well, too bad," he scoffed, crossing his arms. "We're coming anyway."
Akane clenched her jaw, steeling herself. "This is a suicide mission with no guaranteed way back. You owe me nothing. I can't ask this of you."
Posk let out a sharp breath, shifting his weight before squaring his shoulders. "And you're still missing the point. We're coming because we want to."
His tone left no room for argument.
Hilo finally spoke, quieter but just as firm. "We're not leaving you to do this alone, Akane."
For the first time since waking, something in her chest eased—not entirely, but enough to remind her she wasn't alone in this fight. No matter how much she tried to carry it alone, she never truly was.
She let out an incredulous chuckle. Even when she found herself slipping back into her old ANBU ways, they wouldn't let her. "You're insufferable."
Standing up, she put the empty trays away, "Have we got everything we need then? Commander Shepard awaits us on the Normandy."
Shepard POV
The Omega-4 Relay loomed ahead, an ominous spiral of crimson light twisting in the dark. Shepard took a slow breath, feeling the weight of every soul aboard the Normandy pressing down on her shoulders. No turning back now.
"Joker, take us in."
The ship lurched forward, drawn into the relay's pull, and then—
They were through.
The blackness of space peeled away to reveal a graveyard. The wreckage of thousands of ships—human, turian, batarian, and more—drifted like forgotten ghosts, torn apart by the same deadly forces they were about to face.
Joker's voice cut through the tension, after successfully steering them away from collision course after their FTL jump. "Holy shit, too close."
The Normandy weaved between twisted hulls and jagged debris, the inert corpses of those who had come before. EDI's scans already picked up on the location of the Collector Base, Shepard ordered to take them to it- nice and easy. Then the warning klaxons blared.
"Careful, Jeff. We have company." EDI warned, but Shepard's gut clenched.
Almost immediately as the Normandy closed in on the Collector Base, the debris field came alive. Drones, lying in wait, swarmed the ship with relentless speed. Joker flew like a man possessed, weaving the ship through debris while EDI calculated firing solutions. EDI guided Joker through the chaos while the Thanix Cannons fired, tearing through most of the attackers. Some crashed into wreckage, but one made it through, breaching the hangar deck.
Shepard didn't hesitate. She took half of her team down to confront the Oculi drone before it could do any more damage. It needed to be destroyed quickly before it seared everything away on the inside. No time to recover—the worst was yet to come. Ahead, the looming shadow of a Collector Cruiser waited, weapon primed.
Her gut twisted at the sight. One of the ships that had killed her. One of the ships that had torn the first Normandy apart, had left her to die in the cold vacuum of space. But not this time.
"Tear through it, Joker."
The Thanix Cannons roared to life, spewing fire and fury. EDI calculated firing solutions at impossible speed, every shot slamming into the Collector vessel with unrelenting precision. The Normandy danced through the Collector's counterfire, dodging plasma beams that could have gutted them in an instant. The fight was brutal, but this time, they had the firepower to finish what had started two years ago.
The Collector Cruiser buckled under the assault, its grotesque form splitting apart in a final, shrieking explosion. Victory—swift and absolute. But it came with a cost.
The shockwave tore through the Normandy, sending it spinning out of control. An expulsion of destabilizing energy washed over them, killing the ship's mass effect fields in an instant. Systems flickered and died. Alarms blared.
The Normandy slammed into the Collector Base, metal shrieking as it scraped against the alien structure. The impact rattled through every deck, a brutal, jarring collision that sent sparks showering and steel groaning in protest. But they were still here. Still breathing.
As the dust settled, Shepard unfastened her harness, exhaling sharply.
"Ughn... I think I broke a rib. All of them," Joker groaned through gritted teeth.
"Multiple core systems overloaded during the crash. Restoring full operation will take time," EDI reported, her tone eerily calm despite the chaos.
Miranda let out a weary sigh. "We all knew this was likely a one-way trip."
Shepard wasn't ready to entertain that thought—not yet. "Our primary objective is to destroy this station and stop the Collectors. At any cost."
Joker shook off the worst of the pain. "Well, then we're off to a great start. What's next?"
"Are we secure here, EDI?"
"I do not detect an active internal security network. It is possible the Collectors did not anticipate an intrusion at this level."
"If we're lucky, they don't even know we're alive," Joker muttered, glancing at the battered remains of the ship.
Shepard set her jaw. "We'll have to take the risk. EDI, get everyone to the communications room. Now."
Geared up and ready, Shepard stood at the helm of the table, eyes scanning the assembled crew. She counted each one, feeling a wave of relief when the number was right. No time for hesitation. They needed a plan. They needed leadership.
"This isn't how we planned it, but this is where we are," she began, voice steady. "We can't waste time worrying about how—or if—the Normandy can get us home. We came here to stop the Collectors, and that hasn't changed. EDI, bring up your scans."
A hologram of the Collector Base flickered to life, casting a cold glow across the dimly lit room.
"You should be able to overload the critical systems if you reach the main control center here," EDI pointed out.
"That means cutting straight through the heart of the station," Jacob added. "And right past this massive energy structure."
Akane studied the layout. "That's the central chamber. If they're holding the crew and the colonists anywhere, it's there."
"Looks like there are two main routes," Shepard observed. "Might be smart to split up—keep the Collectors off balance—then regroup in the central chamber."
"No good. Both routes are blocked," Miranda countered, arms crossed. "See these doors? They can only be opened from the other side."
Shepard frowned, analyzing the layout again. "Then someone has to go through the ventilation shaft here to unlock them."
"Practically a suicide mission. I'll do it," Jacob offered, smirking—only to be met with twin glares from Miranda and Akane.
"We appreciate the thought, Mister Taylor, but you wouldn't be fast enough," Akane said bluntly. "Believe me, I tried something similar before, and it nearly got me killed. We need a tech specialist."
Shepard turned to the quiet figure at the table. "Legion. You're up for it?"
"Acknowledged," the geth responded without hesitation.
"I've programmed some hacks that might give you an edge if you hit a firewall," Posk added, already transmitting the data.
"Excellent. The rest of us will split into two teams to buy Legion time." Shepard nodded.
"I'll lead the second fireteam," Miranda said smoothly, stepping into the role before Shepard could object.
Across the table, Jack scoffed. "Not so fast, Cheerleader. No one wants to take orders from you."
Shepard caught Garrus shaking his head. A fight was the last thing they needed.
"This isn't a damn popularity contest!" Miranda snapped.
Shepard cut through the tension with a sharp command. "Garrus, you're leading the second team."
A moment of silence. Then, Garrus nodded. "Understood."
Miranda exhaled through her nose but didn't argue. "Well, at least he knows what he's doing."
Shepard took a moment to meet every gaze in the room. They were ready.
Then Akane stepped forward. "Before we move out, Commander, I have some intel to share on what we're up against."
Shepard stepped aside, giving Akane the floor. "Go ahead."
"The Collectors are tough, but not invincible." Akane's voice was calm, methodical as she tapped the holographic display, bringing up the image of a Collector soldier. "They rely on barrier tech for protection, so disruptor and warp rounds will strip them down fast. Once their barriers fall, conventional rounds are more than enough to put them down."
The display flickered, shifting to the grotesque, shambling figures of husks. "These are a different problem. They're weak alone, but they never come alone. They overwhelm in numbers, closing the distance fast. Fire-based ammo—incendiary rounds—work best. Set them alight before they get too close."
Another tap, and the image changed again—this time to a towering, insectoid horror, its multiple eyes glowing eerily in the dim light. "Praetorians." Akane's tone grew sharper. "These things don't just have barriers, they have armor, too. They hover, reposition, and keep the pressure on. Disruptor rounds will take down their barriers, but to finish them, you'll need armor-piercing rounds or heavy weapons."
Shepard's arms crossed as she studied the image, frowning. "One Collector always stands out—the one that starts glowing before turning into an unholy nightmare. What the hell are we dealing with there?"
Akane's expression darkened. "That's no ordinary Collector. When one starts glowing, it means it's been possessed—directly controlled by their leader. Their General." Her gaze flickered to Shepard. "Or more accurately, the Reaper behind them."
Shepard exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing. "Harbinger."
Akane nodded grimly. "The one and only. The moment it takes control, that Collector becomes stronger, tougher, and starts throwing biotics around like an asari matriarch. That's why I need to cut the brain from the limbs. Without leadership, the Collectors fall into disarray, and you'll have a much easier time carving through them."
"Absolutely not!" Tali and Garrus snapped in unison.
Shepard's jaw tightened, eyes locked on Akane. "You know what you're signing up for? No backup. No second chances. If things go south, we won't be able to get to you."
Akane met her gaze without hesitation, her voice steady. "I understand the risks, Shepard."
Then, with a faint smirk, she added, "Besides, more chaos can only work in our favor. Two groups are good. Three? That's a charm."
No one looked reassured.
Akane exhaled, her expression turning serious again. "This isn't just about splitting their forces. Someone has to draw the seeker swarms away. Unless you've come up with a way to defend against an entire concentrated mass of them, Dr. Solus?"
Mordin shook his head, his usual rapid speech absent for once. "Short-term countermeasures only. Swarms adapt too quickly. Cannot guarantee effectiveness over extended time."
Akane simply nodded, as if she'd already known the answer. "Then I'll buy you the time you need."
Tali crossed her arms, her voice edged with frustration. "That's still a hell of a gamble. You're assuming you can keep them busy long enough without getting yourself killed."
Akane smirked, but there was no arrogance behind it—just quiet resolve. "I don't assume. I know. I've done his for two years all on my own, you know."
Garrus exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "If you're doing this, you'd better make it count. No heroics, no unnecessary risks. The objective comes first. Understood?"
Akane grinned. "Always."
Their playful banter was short-lived as Commander Shepard, in all her commanding presence stepped into the center. Everyone knew the stakes and was prepared to face them.
"Once we're in, they'll throw everything they have at us. Let them. The Collectors came after our ship. Took our crew. Our friends. They think we're helpless. They think we're prey. They're wrong. They started this war—but we're not just here to end it. We're here to make them regret it. No more running. No more waiting. We take the fight to them. We hit them where they live. And we don't stop until we get our people back."
As their boots hit the Collector station's surface, the eerie silence pressed down on them. The team moved into formation, weapons raised, but before Akane could break off, Shepard reached out, catching her arm.
"Hold up."
Akane turned, brow raised. "Shepard, we don't have time—"
"I know," Shepard cut in, voice steady. "That's why I need to say this now." She held Akane's gaze, her grip firm but not restraining. "We've fought through a lot together. You've had our backs. So don't think for a second that we won't have yours."
Akane's smirk flickered, just for a moment. "Shepard—"
"She's right," Tali chimed in, stepping closer. Her voice was softer, but no less insistent. "You act like you don't need anyone watching out for you, but that doesn't mean we're not going to. We care about you, Akane. And if something happens, we will come for you."
Akane exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders. "You two are making a big deal out of nothing."
"Nothing? Oh, now she's playing it cool," Garrus said, shaking his head. "Look, I know you're stubborn, but don't go trying to be a hero just because you think it's easier that way." He cocked his head slightly, mandibles twitching. "Besides, I'd hate to have to go in after you and prove you're not as untouchable as you think."
Akane huffed, shaking her head with a small chuckle. Then, after a beat, her expression shifted—more serious, quieter. "Actually… before I go, I need to ask a favor."
Shepard frowned slightly. "What is it?"
Akane hesitated, then sighed. "Hilo. Keep an eye on him for me."
Tali tilted her head. "Akane—"
"He's reckless. And if something happens to me… he's going to do something stupid." She looked at them, eyes sharp but laced with something heavier. "Just… make sure he doesn't."
Shepard studied her for a moment, then nodded. "We will."
Tali placed a hand on Akane's arm. "You know you could just stay alive and do it yourself."
Akane smirked faintly. "That is the plan."
Garrus let out a low chuckle. "Damn right it is. But don't worry—we'll keep him in check. And if he tries something reckless to save you… well, I can't say I'd blame him."
Akane exhaled, rolling her shoulders again. "That's all I needed to hear." She took a step back, gaze sweeping over them one last time before she turned. "Now let's get this over with."
She slipped away into the station's shadows.
Shepard let out a slow breath, watching her go.
"You think she'll actually play it safe?" Tali asked.
"She'll try," Shepard murmured, gripping her rifle. "But it's Akane."
Garrus let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah. Which means we better be ready to cover her ass when the time comes."
Shepard nodded, expression hardening as she turned back to the squad.
"Let's move."
Akane's Byakugan pulsed as she moved, every detail of the labyrinthine station unfolding in her sight. The moment she severed the first valve, she felt them stir—the seekers, dormant no longer, slithering to life in the darkened corners of the containment sector.
A sharp, clicking buzz filled the air as the walls seemed to writhe. One by one, the grotesque creatures unfolded from the shadows. Their light-brown exoskeletons gleamed under the dim emergency lights, their spindly limbs twitching, wings unfurling with a sickening rustle. Four-limbed bodies skittered along the ceiling and walls, multifaceted eyes locking onto her. Their stingers twitched, primed to strike.
Perfect.
She lunged forward, slicing through another pod's tubing with a flick of her chakra blade. More hissing air, more movement from within. The swarm had seen enough.
The first wave burst toward her, wings a blur of motion.
Akane was already gone.
Lightning flared around her as she flickered down the corridor, her speed sending crackling aftershocks through the station. She felt the vibrations of the seekers' pursuit, the relentless flutter of wings growing louder as they swarmed after her, funneled into the path she led them down. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
She needed more.
Akane weaved through the station, deliberately drawing out the chase, giving the swarm time to grow. Every time she glanced behind her, more had joined—the walls seemed to peel open as fresh clusters of seekers spilled into the corridors, adding their droning voices to the cacophony.
Still not enough.
She rounded a corner and severed another set of pod valves mid-sprint, sending more mist billowing into the air. The movement caught more seekers' attention, luring them away from their perches and into the growing horde.
Good.
She could feel the sheer numbers now—dozens, maybe more, their grotesque forms blotting out the light behind her. The swarming mass consumed the corridor, wings filling the air like a storm of living debris.
Then they started getting smarter.
A cluster of seekers veered off, splitting from the main mass. Akane's eyes flared—she saw them moving ahead, cutting through maintenance shafts, slithering through vents, repositioning. They were trying to box her in.
She smirked. About time.
She feigned hesitation, taking a turn into a narrower section of the station, ensuring they saw her do it. The seekers took the bait, pouring in after her like a flood, wings scraping against the walls as they competed for space.
Then the path ahead twisted—twice.
Akane took the first turn. The seekers followed.
The second turn came, and suddenly the walls closed in tighter.
The swarm didn't hesitate, funneled into a singular mass by the narrowing passage. There was no retreat now, no side exits, only the prey in front of them.
Akane planted her feet.
She whirled in place just as the front line of seekers lunged, their wings buzzing furiously.
She inhaled.
Chakra surged through her core, heat gathering in her chest, expanding. Her lips parted, fire building in the depths of her throat. The seekers were nearly upon her, stingers poised—
"Katon: Gōka Mekkyaku!"
She exhaled, and hell was unleashed.
A roaring tide of flame erupted from her mouth, a wall of searing destruction that crashed into the swarm like a tidal wave. The narrow corridor became an inferno in an instant.
The seekers never had a chance.
Those at the front were incinerated before they could react, their brittle wings shriveling to nothing, exoskeletons popping as they were consumed. The ones behind them fared no better—trapped in the funnel, with nowhere to escape, they burned as the fire rushed through them. Their chittering shrieks filled the air, a discordant, agonized symphony as the last of them perished, reduced to blackened husks.
The heat pulsed through the walls, metal groaning under the sheer force of the blaze. Smoke curled in thick ribbons around Akane as she exhaled, the embers of her jutsu still flickering in the air.
She straightened, rolling her shoulders as the last bits of ash crumbled to the floor.
That was most of the swarm. If any remained, they wouldn't be a problem.
Now, she could focus on getting to the command center to confront the General.
But just as she turned, a distant explosion rumbled through the station. Her Byakugan flared instinctively, locking onto the far side of the facility.
"Garrus, we're almost there! Get that door open!" Shepard barked over comms, laying down covering fire as her team pushed forward.
Static. Then Garrus' voice came through, tight with urgency.
"We can't, Shepard! If we open it now, they'll flood in behind us. We're barely sealing our side as it is!" A burst of gunfire crackled through the channel, punctuated by the deep thud of Garrus' sniper rifle. "You need another way in!"
Shepard cursed under her breath, slamming into cover as the next wave of Collectors bore down on them. They were pinned, the door within reach but useless if they couldn't get through.
"I got this."
Akane's voice cut through the chaos, firm and unwavering. Shepard turned to see the kunoichi standing tall amid the gunfire, Sharingan gleaming in the dim lighting.
"What do you mean, you got this?" Shepard demanded.
Akane's eyes flicked toward the Collector positions, tracking their movements, predicting their attacks. Her muscles tensed, anticipation coiling within her like a drawn bowstring. "I'll draw their fire—throw them into disarray. Give Hilo the time he needs to hack the door."
"That's insane!" Shepard snapped, but Akane was already moving.
In an instant, she vanished—a blur of motion weaving through the battlefield. Her blade flashed, severing a Collector's throat before they even registered her presence. She flowed into the next strike, her Sharingan dancing as she read their movements with deadly precision.
Severed chitin. An arm snapped mid-strike. Plasma fire ripped through where she had been, but never where she was.
But as she advanced, something changed. A dark energy filled the air, an oppressive force that seemed to drag the battlefield toward an even darker fate. Akane felt the shift immediately. Harbinger's presence, though not physically present, seemed to loom over them like a shadow. The Collectors around her moved with a newfound purpose, their actions more coordinated as though guided by an unseen hand.
Her Sharingan flared, sharpening her senses even further. She realized the Harbinger's influence had become more prominent. It was pressuring the Collectors, pushing them to work together with a single goal: take them down. Harbinger was watching, pulling the strings, but he wasn't fully in control. Yet, the distraction was enough to slow her movements, just enough for the Collectors to regroup.
A Collector lunged at her, and Akane dodged, narrowly avoiding its strike.
"Akane! Move!" Shepard shouted, her voice cutting through the madness.
Akane gritted her teeth. She had promised Shepard, but there was no time to think. The pressure from Harbinger's influence was relentless, pushing her into overdrive as she danced through the chaos, reading her opponents' movements. She couldn't let the Collectors get the upper hand.
With a roar, Akane launched herself into the fray, her Sharingan flaring as she struck with surgical precision. She had to buy the team time. She had to hold them off.
"Go ahead!" Akane shouted, her voice strained.
But Shepard didn't hesitate. "No! Fall back with us!"
Akane paused for a moment. She saw the door sliding closer to opening, but it wasn't enough. Harbinger's influence over the battlefield kept her locked in combat, too tied up to make it back in time. The Collectors, now led by that oppressive presence, kept pushing her deeper into the fight. But she couldn't leave them to fend for themselves.
Shepard's voice again—sharper, louder, more desperate. "Akane! Fall back now!"
Akane's eyes narrowed. No more playing hero. She had promised them, and now she had to keep her word.
With one last strike, she broke through the remaining Collector forces, the door finally sliding open just as she dove toward it. The final push. She felt her body pushed to its limits, but she cleared the threshold just as the door slammed shut. The battle outside abruptly cut off.
Shepard's team was already through, waiting for her.
Akane took a deep breath, her legs trembling from the fight.
"Never pull that again," Shepard muttered, her eyes blazing.
Akane wiped blood from her blade, huffing. "I still have a few aces up my sleeve, don't worry- ack!"
Before Akane could even finish the sentence, a swift whack came to the back of her head, the sound echoing through the dim corridor. She blinked and turned to see Tali standing there, a playful yet reprimanding glint in her eye.
Akane winced, rubbing the spot where the slap landed, couldn't help but laugh along, her smirk turning into a grin. "I guess I deserved that."
Garrus shook his head, a smile tugging at his mandibles. "You really did."
Akane's eyes scanned the pods, and her stomach tightened as she spotted Dr. Chakwas in one of them. Without hesitation, her voice cut through the tension.
"Chakwas!" Akane shouted, her voice laced with urgency. "We need to get these open, now!"
She moved toward the nearest pod, her omni-blades already activated and slicing through the containment. The rest of the crew quickly followed suit. They had them out in no time, letting them rest for a second.
Chakwas sighed in relief as the crew was freed, her voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Shepard. The Collectors… they've been processing the humans into some kind of gray paste, genetic material. For some reason, they route it through tubes to another part of the station. I can't imagine what they're doing with it."
Mordin nodded thoughtfully. "Akane's hypothesis... perhaps they're using humans to create a new Reaper. The paste could be part of their biotechnological process."
Shepard's gaze hardened. "The tubes must lead to the heart of their operation. We need to follow them."
"EDI," Shepard radioed, "what's the situation?"
"Akane has neutralized most of the Seeker swarms," EDI replied, her voice calm. "There should be no significant obstacles if you follow the tubes. However, there is an alternate path that could serve as a distraction."
Garrus added, "I'll stick to leading the second team. We'll rendezvous at the next crossroads. We'll be ready when you are."
Chakwas frowned. "What about the crew? How will they make it back?"
Shepard turned to the comms, quickly radioing Joker. "Joker, can you pick them up?"
"We'll have to backtrack, Shepard. Not an option for the whole team."
Shepard considered the options. "Mordin, you're with the crew. Get them back safely."
"Understood," Mordin confirmed with a quick nod.
As the squad reached the crossroads, the tension in the air was thick. The long fight through the Collector base had worn everyone down, and Akane's eyes were fixed on the path ahead. Her Sharingan flared as she clenched her fists. "This is it. If I push forward now, I can cut the head off the snake before it retreats again."
She turned to Shepard. "Let me go after the Collector General. If we take it out, we might cripple their command structure."
Shepard exhaled, shaking her head. "Akane, I need you here."
Akane frowned. "Shepard, we can't keep fighting Harbinger like this. Every time we drop him, he just jumps to another Collector. This is the best move."
"No, it isn't," Shepard said firmly. "We're one man short already—Mordin took the crew back. We can't afford to lose another. We're battered, low on resources, and if they hit our rear, we're done."
Akane hesitated. She glanced at the squad—Tali checking her omnitool with shaking hands, Garrus leaning against cover to catch his breath, Hilo wiping blood from his brow. They were tough, but they weren't invincible.
Shepard's voice softened. "I know what you're thinking. But I won't let Virmire happen again."
Akane stiffened as memories resurfaced.
"I remember what it was like," Shepard continued. "Hearing you'd stay behind. Thinking I might lose you. I made my choice then, but I won't make that mistake now. We're finishing this together."
Akane's breath caught in her throat. It wasn't about pride, wasn't about proving herself. It was about survival—theirs, Hilo's, all of them. Slowly, she exhaled, tension draining from her shoulders.
She nodded, though the fire in her eyes hadn't dimmed. "Damn it, Shepard. Fine. But if Harbinger pulls another trick, don't say I didn't warn you."
Shepard gave a knowing smile. "I wouldn't dream of it."
The Collector Base trembled around them, the station groaning under its own weight. As Shepard, Jack, and Kasumi pushed forward, Akane turned to face the others—Garrus, Tali, Zaeed, Thane, Legion, Grunt, Samara, Jacob, and Miranda. They had one job now: hold the line.
Harbinger's forces crashed into them with renewed fury, sensing their time was running out. Husks, Scions, and heavily armed Collectors advanced in unrelenting waves. Akane gritted her teeth, forcing herself to remain upright. Her body screamed for rest, still bruised from Aratoth, but she couldn't afford weakness.
"We have to stagger our fire. Don't waste shots!" she ordered, her voice sharp with command.
Tali's shotgun blasted into the chest of a husk at close range, the creature's body disintegrating in the flash of fire. "Easier said than done when they just keep coming."
A Collector drone charged forward, and Garrus was quick to retaliate, his sniper rifle making quick work of it. "I don't suppose anyone has a plan better than 'shoot everything that moves'?"
Akane took a deep breath, steadied her aim, and replied, "Yeah. Don't die."
The joke didn't lighten the mood, but it kept the focus sharp. The team fought smart, moving as one, covering each other's positions. Legion's tech overload short-circuited an entire group of Collectors, while Thane's precise shots took out key targets. Grunt surged forward, barreling into the fray, throwing a Scion off balance long enough for Jacob to follow up with a rocket that disintegrated it.
Samara's biotics created barriers to protect the team, and Miranda's tactical genius kept the pressure on the Collectors from overwhelming them. Zaeed, with his unrelenting ferocity, mowed down the advancing waves of enemies, while Akane pushed herself harder, refusing to slow down, despite the aching pain in her muscles.
"We can't let them break through," Akane said, her voice low but steady, keeping the team focused. "We keep pushing them back, buy Shepard all the time we can."
But the pressure was mounting. Every step forward they made was met with even more opposition. The Collectors seemed relentless, and Akane could see the strain on everyone—Thane's breath was ragged, Tali's movements slower than usual, and Grunt's expression was grim as he tore through enemies. Their teamwork held strong, but exhaustion was taking its toll.
With a deep, strained breath, Akane adjusted her grip on her weapon. The station seemed to shake with every blast, the countdown in the back of her mind ticking away as Harbinger's forces attacked with increasing intensity.
Meanwhile, deep in the heart of the station, Shepard, Jack, and Kasumi found their objective—and froze in horror.
Suspended in mid-air, grotesque organic tubes snaked into the creature's body, pumping what could only be human-derived genetic material into its core. Its skeletal frame was held together by a network of cables, the toxic fluid pulsating through the system with a sickening rhythm.
For a moment, even Shepard faltered. This was what the Collectors had been building—what the Reapers had been shaping from the stolen lives of entire human colonies. The implications churned in her gut, but there was no time for horror. They had a job to do.
"Those tubes are its lifeblood," Shepard muttered. "Take them out, and we cripple it."
Jack nodded. "On it."
Shepard, Jack, and Kasumi unleashed their fury, targeting the large tubes connecting to the creature's spine. Jack's biotics sent shockwaves that tore into the connections, rupturing the first few tubes with violent force. Kasumi's stealthy, precise movements allowed her to plant explosives on the joints, cracking the remaining tubes wide open. Shepard followed with her rifle, taking down one tube after another.
As each tube was destroyed, the Reaper shuddered, its body crumpling slightly, as though losing the fluid that powered its form. With one final shot from Shepard, the last of the tubes exploded in a cascade of sparks and liquid.
The Human-Reaper collapsed with a heavy, organic thud, its massive form falling from its perch. The room seemed to breathe easier for a split second, the immediate threat gone.
But then, a low rumble echoed throughout the chamber, one that bode no good. Slowly, it began to rise again, its once hollow eyes glowing as if responding to some hidden, twisted will.
Jack's hands curled into fists, biotic energy crackling to life around her. "This is some serious nightmare fuel." She sneered, but there was a flicker of unease behind her anger. "Let's wreck this thing."
The monstrosity surged forward, its body now more grotesque, more alive than before. It reared up and let out a guttural roar, tearing free from the wreckage of the tubes. This wasn't just a twisted abomination of flesh and metal—it was a relentless force of destruction, driven by something far darker.
Jack let loose a biotic shockwave, "It's alive enough to fight back. Great."
"We're not done yet," Shepard said, her voice steady despite the tension. "Keep firing! We finish this, now!"
The air crackled with gunfire and biotic energy as Jack and Kasumi continued to lay down relentless fire. But the Reaper wasn't finished. It lashed out with a jagged, armored arm, smashing into the levitating platform they stood on. For a heartbeat, Shepard felt weightless, suspended in air before the platform jolted back to the ground, throwing her off balance. She stumbled, crashing to the side with a grunt.
"Shepard!" Kasumi's voice rang out urgently. Instinctively, Shepard rolled, narrowly avoiding a beam of searing orange energy that sliced through the air, missing her by inches.
Shepard's hand tightened around her rifle, eyes locking onto the glowing menace in front of her. She fired—once, twice—but the creature barely flinched. Those eyes... they wouldn't crack so easily.
The battle was far from over.
Back at the rear guard, the situation was deteriorating rapidly. Harbinger's forces assaulted with renewed aggression, throwing everything they had into one final, desperate push while they grew more tired by the minute. The base seemed to groan under the strain, its structural integrity weakening as explosions and gunfire reverberated through the corridors.
Then, Harbinger descended. The ominous figure hovered above the battlefield, seizing control of a massive Collector Captain. Its yellow eyes locked onto Akane, a cold, predatory gaze that sent a shiver down her spine.
"You cannot stop us," Harbinger's voice echoed through the air, resonating deep in her bones. Its words were as chilling as its power.
Akane barely had time to react as a warp blast shot toward her, the energy crackling with deadly intent. She rolled to the side just in time, the blast grazing her shoulder as she sprang to her feet. With a quick movement, she switched from gun to sword, her grip steady as she lunged toward the Collector Captain. Her weapon cut through its thick armor with a satisfying hiss of energy, but her arms were giving out. The Captain staggered but remained on its feet, the damage only momentary.
Harbinger's voice rang out again, distorted with a mocking tone. "You resist… but your efforts are futile."
Akane's breath came in shallow bursts as she prepared to strike again. But before she could, a massive force slammed into her, sending her hurtling through the air. Her back collided with a bulkhead, the impact leaving her vision swimming with dark spots. Pain erupted through her body, but she refused to stay down. There was no time to give up.
"Akane!" Garrus's voice cut through the haze as he and Zaeed flanked the towering creature, unloading a hail of gunfire. Tali was quick to react, launching an overload that sparked and crackled across the Captain's form, causing it to stumble but not fall.
"Hold the line!" Akane shouted, trying to push herself up despite the dizziness threatening to overtake her. They couldn't give up now.
Then EDI's voice came through their comms, calm yet urgent: "Shepard has succeeded. The base is collapsing. Immediate extraction required."
Akane exhaled, a mixture of exhaustion and relief flooding her chest. "About damn time," she muttered, blood trickling from her lip.
The team fought their way back toward the rendezvous point, covering each other as they retreated, their weapons blazing. The base trembled with the collapse, fire and debris raining down from above. Every step forward felt like a battle, but they moved with purpose. Akane shoved Tali forward as a platform collapsed beneath their feet, the flames licking at their heels. Garrus, ever the protector, hauled Hilo up by the arm just as the quarian nearly slipped into the chasm below.
And then, through the haze of smoke and dust, Shepard appeared. Jack and Kasumi flanked her, and for a brief moment, everything felt like it might just be okay. Akane didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until it escaped in a rush.
"Shepard," Akane said, relief flooding her voice. She didn't know how to feel about this mission—how close they'd come to failing—but seeing Shepard here, alive and whole, was a reassurance that they had made it.
"Get your team on board now!" Joker's voice crackled through their earpieces, sharp and demanding. The Normandy was swooping in, its engines roaring as it drew closer to the extraction point.
Akane and the team ran toward the ship, weaving through the debris and chaos of the collapsing station. Time was running out. As they neared the landing area, Akane shoved Tali ahead of her, pushing her forward when another section of the base gave way beneath them. With one final push, they reached the Normandy, leaping aboard just as the base continued to tremble.
The Normandy shot through the vastness of space, the aftermath of the Collector base's explosion still ringing in their ears. The fireball behind them slowly faded, but the relief was palpable. For a moment, there was no enemy chasing them, no imminent threat.
Her composure finally broke as she slumped against the wall, tired to the bones. They had done it. They had struck a decisive blow.
But even as the crew exhaled, a lingering weight pressed on Shepard's shoulders. They were only one step closer to the Reapers, and the war was far from over.
"Commander," the Illusive Man's voice crackled through the comm, cutting through the brief silence like a shard of glass. Shepard reluctantly pushed herself off the console and walked into the communications room, shoving aside stray cables with a quick motion.
As she stood before the holo-projector, the Illusive Man's image flickered into view, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. His voice, smooth but edged with barely contained anger, echoed in the room. "You're making a habit of costing me more than just time and money. That base was a treasure trove of technology. It could have secured us human dominance in the galaxy. Against the Reapers and beyond. You had no right to destroy it."
Shepard's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a smug grin. "Maybe you should have taken me up on that offer and come with us. But I guess you were too busy with your own delusions of grandeur."
That seemed to break him. His posture stiffened, and he stalked toward the projection, eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and disdain. "Don't turn your back on me, Shepard! I made you. I brought you back from the dead."
Shepard stood unflinching, her posture unwavering. His words, once capable of rattling her, no longer held sway. In the beginning, they might have made her question herself, but not anymore. She was certain now—this was who she was, even in the darkest moments of her resurrection. When the path seemed unclear, she'd always had her friends, her family, to pull her back to who she truly was. If the words had come from anyone else, they might have stung. But from him? The man who thrived on manipulation, who viewed people as pawns in his power plays? It was laughable.
"Maybe," Shepard said, her voice sharp as a blade, "but it was the right call. I'm not here for your approval. From now on, I'm doing things my way—whether you agree or not."
The words hung in the air between them, and for a brief moment, Shepard relished the silence that followed. There was no room for him in her future. No room for Cerberus. Never had been.
The ship was quieter now. The crew moved through the halls with the dull hum of routine, a distant sense of relief settling over them. Kelly Chambers passed by, her face a mixture of fatigue and gratitude. The aftermath of battle weighed heavy, but they'd made it. They'd all made it.
As Shepard strode through the Normandy's corridors, the weight of the battle still clung to them like a second skin. The air smelled of scorched metal and ozone, the ship's systems straining from the ordeal. But despite everything, they had made it. Everyone was alive. That was enough—for now.
Garrus met Shepard's gaze with a weary but knowing look, his mandibles twitching in what might have been a smirk. Tali, still gripping her shotgun, exhaled audibly in relief. Jack leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed, her usual scowl softened ever so slightly. Grunt simply huffed, like a predator content after a hard-fought hunt.
Thane passed by with fluid grace, his deep green eyes lingering on Shepard for a moment before offering a respectful nod. Even Legion's optical lens flickered in silent acknowledgment.
Joker was waiting on the bridge, the dim glow of the consoles illuminating the exhaustion in his face. Still, he couldn't resist a smirk as he held out a datapad. "Thought you might want to see this before they lock you up for pissing off your new best friend," he quipped.
Shepard arched a brow, accepting the datapad. The screen flickered to life, revealing Reaper schematics. Cold, alien, relentless. Their victory was fleeting—one battle in a war still looming over the horizon.
The fight was far from over. But for tonight, they had survived. And that was something.
In the med bay, Akane sat silently, carefully wiping the blood from her face. Every muscle ached, and exhaustion clung to her like a heavy cloak, but she was alive. That was enough—for now. Across from her, Hilo stirred, his breathing steady despite the brutality they had just endured. He was alive too. That, too, was enough.
The door slid open, and Dr. Chakwas stepped inside. Her sharp eyes found Akane almost immediately, and something in her expression softened, though her professional composure remained intact. With measured steps, she approached, placing a medkit beside her.
"Let me take a proper look at you, dear," she said, her voice gentle but laced with concern.
Akane managed a small, tired smile. "Good to see you again, Doctor."
Chakwas exhaled softly, her gaze scanning Akane's bruises and scrapes with practiced precision, as if committing each injury to memory. "The last time I saw you, you were barely clinging to life after Virmire. It was a miracle you survived." Her voice wavered for the briefest moment, but she quickly masked it with a steady exhale. "And now here you are, back in my med bay. It seems fate has a way of bringing us together."
Akane lowered her gaze, the weight of old memories pressing down on her. After a beat, she looked up again. "I owe you for that. I never properly thanked you."
Chakwas gave her a knowing look, her eyes soft but resolute. "You don't owe me anything, Akane. Seeing you alive and well is more than enough."
There was a pause, and then, to Akane's surprise, Chakwas reached out, clasping her hand with a firm yet gentle squeeze.
"I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you again," the doctor said quietly. "When the Collectors took me, I feared I'd never have the chance."
Akane felt a lump rise in her throat at the vulnerability in Chakwas's voice. "I'm so sorry you went through that," she murmured, her heart heavy.
Chakwas shook her head. "You all came for us. That's what matters."
A small but genuine smile touched Akane's lips. "Still, I'll try to make sure you don't have to patch me up like this too often."
Chakwas chuckled, withdrawing her hand but not before giving Akane's shoulder a light, affectionate pat. "That would be a first."
Akane chuckled as well, then winced as the motion pulled at a sore muscle. "Alright, maybe not."
Chakwas smiled fondly before resuming her work, carefully tending to Akane's injuries. "Just let me do my job, dear. We'll get you back on your feet in no time."
Akane let out a soft breath and nodded. "I appreciate it. More than I can say."
For a moment, there was nothing but quiet understanding between them—gratitude unspoken, but deeply felt.
Chakwas finished securing the last bandage, her touch as gentle as ever. "There," she murmured, surveying her work with a satisfied nod. "That should hold for now."
Akane exhaled slowly, the weight of exhaustion settling over her like a heavy blanket. She blinked sluggishly, then stifled a yawn behind her hand.
Chakwas gave her a knowing look. "You need rest, Akane. You've been through enough for one day."
"I'm fine," Akane started, but her words slurred slightly, betraying her.
Chakwas raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't convincing."
Akane let out a breath of amusement but didn't protest when Chakwas guided her back against the cot with gentle insistence.
"Close your eyes," Chakwas said, softer now, the warmth of concern slipping through her professional demeanor. "You're safe here."
Akane meant to resist, if only for a moment longer, but the lure of rest was too strong. Her body surrendered to the warmth of the blankets, her muscles unclenching as sleep claimed her.
And then—darkness.
A shape loomed in the void, its cold, metallic form pulsing with eerie, crimson light. A Reaper. Its long frame cast shifting shadows in the abyss. As its body hummed to life, other lights flickered in the blackness—first dozens, then hundreds, then thousands.
More Reapers. An endless, silent fleet.
Beyond them, the Milky Way galaxy gleamed, distant and fragile.
The Reapers advanced.
A/N: Here we have it! Mass Effect 2, in all it's glory, finished! Thank you eternally for your patience and continued support. Now that we are more established, I need to take a step back and see which direction I want to take this story. I would honestly let you be part of the process but I really don't want to spoil anything. Before I sign off, a huge thank you to a certain Arcturus_Hub, who gifted me a piece of his/her own fanfiction and I hope I didn't offend by partly implementing it into my story. If anyone would be interested at giving it a read it's called: A Catastrophe at Bahak (it's posted on AO3 under this exact title)