Hello lovely readers and welcome to my second DragonAge/MassEffect crossover! This is the sequel to my previous story 'Gravity'. For those of you who are new, I would recommend reading that story before this one, as without it, there may be scenarios or pieces of story-lore that won't make sense. I'll try to limit this as much as I can, but you have been warned!

For those of you who are returning readers, thank you so much for coming back! I hope you enjoy this story with me, I've been really looking forward to this one! As usual, there will be weekly updates every Monday. Please be advised, however, this story will be a little darker than the previous ones, and the rating will shift up to M rather quickly for obvious reasons. If I think there's anything that needs a Trigger Warning, I'll be sure to mention it.

Please do not forget to leave a review, feedback is the life-force all author's must feast on to survive!

Relativity

Today was a good day to die.

Commander James Shepard didn't know how many times he'd thought those words in the last twelve hours, but it felt like a lot. At first it had been when he'd been pulled from his 'cell', and he'd assumed he was being carted off to finally be court-marshalled or handed over to the Batarians. Then it had been when the Reapers had finally descended from the sky in a blaze of fire. They'd torn the world apart, and Shepard had felt powerless to do anything against such a massive scale of destruction. And that helplessness had festered into hate. The run through Vancouver with Anderson had been one death-defying leap after another. Even when he'd finally been welcomed back onto the Normandy – welcomed home – he'd still thought they would be shot down from the sky at any moment.

There'd been no rest, no time to allow everything to process in his mind. Calm one moment and then hell-on-earth the next. It took every part of Shepard's willpower to stay on course as ordered and abandon Earth to die whilst he went off to recruit the rest of the galaxy. He more than agreed with Vega, the muscle-head that had somehow been roped onto the Normandy, who wanted to turn around and join the fight. But Shepard also believed that he needed to see the bigger picture here. More lives would be saved in the long-run if he gathered the soldiers he needed now, rather than head back to die in a small and petty battle.

So now, he, Vega and Kaidan (of all people) were scoping through the ghost town of the Mars archives. Sent by Admiral Hackett to retrieve something of vital importance. But outside, they'd been met by a host of Cerberus troops and murdered Alliance personnel. And the inside was little better, the halls empty of life. And Kaidan's constant insinuations about Shepard's loyalty were not helping Shepard's mood much. Discovering the man-and-one-time-friend had been promoted whilst Shepard had been incarcerated, and that now he was back aboard the Normandy, Shepard didn't know what to think. They hadn't parted on such good terms last time they'd seen one another. Shepard had been hurt and angered by Kaidan's claims of treason. Now, to think Kaidan still thought the worst of him… Shepard was trying to keep a hold on his temper, but it was becoming a very torturous process.

And then, who should appear before him, like a vengeful angel dropping from above to kill Cerberus scum – Liara. Shepard felt his heart thud against his ribs and his stomach soar. Suddenly those six months without seeing her face (not even in a vid-call) seemed like a lifetime. He completely forgot himself as he stood to his feet, gun forgotten and hanging uselessly at his side.

She heard his footsteps and turned her beautiful face to watch him. Relief overcame her deep-blue eyes. "Shepard… Thank the Goddess you're alive."

"You too, Liara," he said, stepping close and taking her hands in his. God, they felt just right in his grip. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, assure himself that she was real, that she was alive and hadn't been swallowed up by this war yet. But the sad little expression on her face stopped him.

"I was so worried when the reports came in… I'm sorry about Earth."

"Yeah." Kaidan sighed. Shepard and Liara jumped apart as if burned, having completely forgotten about their audience. "It was hard to leave like that."

"Kaidan." Liara nodded to him in greeting, her eyes lingering on James for a moment also. And then she looked back at Shepard, but the warm welcome was gone, replaced with scepticism. "Why did you come here?"

He attempted to adopt his commander-persona, but it was so difficult when all he wanted to do was kiss her. "Hackett's orders. Said you'd know what was going on."

"I've discovered plans for a Prothien Device," she explained, "one that could wipe out the Reapers."

That got Shepard's attention. "Here? On Mars?"

"In the Prothien Archives, yes. When you destroyed the Alpha Relay, you bought us some time. But then, you were under investigation. I knew I had to do something. So, I went digging. I tried to find anything I could about the Prothien's final days against the Reapers. My search led me here. Hackett got me access and kept me updated on your status… Seeing as you didn't."

And then he realised how badly he fucked up. The last time they'd spoken, it had been a call after he'd destroyed the relay and struggled with his guilty conscience. He'd promised to come see her, but had then been arrested by Hackett. "Liara, I–"

"In any case, my work paid off," she spoke over him, not looking him in the eye, instead pointing out the window towards their destination. "The Archives are full of data. I think I found what we need!"

"Where do we find this weapon?" he asked, conceding that he could sort this out with her later.

"It's not a weapon – not yet. It's just blueprints at the moment."

"And how do Cerberus fit into this mix?"

"Yeah," said Vega. "They seemed hell-bent on catching you."

"They want what I'm here for. What we're all here for."

Kaidan nodded, catching on. "Anything powerful enough to destroy the Reapers–"

"Is something Cerberus might just be interested in." finished Shepard.

So, they made their way through the Archives. Vega was not pleased to be left behind to cover the exits, but Shepard knew that the only way to win a fight with the odds against you, was to fight smart. It was he, Liara and Kaidan as they navigated the long halls and labs of the Archives, finding nothing but betrayal, death and tragedy the further in they went. Cerberus were not just infiltrating the Archives, they were slaughtering everyone inside. A Dr Eva had led the assault, Cerberus' inside woman. She was the one leading the way towards the Archives, with Shepard and company hot on their heels. However, a tram station blocked their way, with Eva's orders being to not let anyone across. The desperation to get to the data first was running high in all of them, yet it was Kaidan that came up with the plan to search for a radio helmet and trick the Cerberus soldiers into letting them across.

Shepard awkwardly acknowledged the good plan and watched Kaidan leave. His mind wandered back to their fight against Saren. Kaidan had been like a little brother to him, he'd been the calm and rational voice even amongst all the other stresses aboard the SR1. When Ash died, the pair of them had grieved together. Now look at them. Shepard couldn't compute in his mind how that man he'd once considered like family, could be the same man he now resented.

He felt eyes on him, and eventually noticed that Liara was staring at him over the terminal she was trying to hack. "The Major has become very capable."

"Agreed." He muttered.

"You're still sore with him?"

"Well, he did call me a traitor, didn't lift a finger to help me out of jail, is still insinuating I'm a traitor… Nah, can't think of anything I'd be pissed about." Shepard drawled sarcastically.

Liara hummed to herself, her eyes slowly returning to her work. "Looks like grudges are going around."

He winced. "Liara… About before. I know I didn't really tell you about–"

"What? Didn't tell me about the Alpha Relay? Didn't tell me you were being incarcerated? I had to find those things out for myself." Realising how hard and cold she sounded, her resolve crumbled and she glanced down at her fumbling hands. "Shepard, it's not the fact you did what you did. I still believe that you did the right thing. I just… You left me to worry, you kept me in the dark."

"There just didn't seem like enough time to explain…"

"Shepard!" suddenly shouted Kaidan's voice from the hall. "I found something!"

The Commander wanted to ignore him, to pretend he didn't hear him. He wanted to explain everything to Liara, to clear away the doubts in both of their minds. But with the interruption again, she'd closed herself off. With a sigh, he retreated from her, and made his way into the hall. He found Kaidan knelt beside a Cerberus corpse slumped against a railing. "What've you got?"

"He's got a transmitter in his helmet. If I can–"

As Kaidan reached his fingers all around the helmet, there was a soft 'click'. The front casing of the helmet fell away, a hiss of pressurised air following. Shepard and Kaidan jumped back, ready for anything. As the mist began to clear and they could see what lay inside, their faces twisted in horror.

Kaidan looked like he was about to throw-up. "My god… what is that?"

The face inside the helmet was a twisted mockery of what a face should be. Shepard felt his gorge rise as he recognised the filmy milk-blue eyes and threads of cybernetics worked into the skin as Reaper-tech. It looked as if the man had been partly-transformed into a husk. Yet that wasn't all. The skin looked as if it had been half rotted away, turning brown and blotchy. The lips had peeled back over decaying teeth. Veins bulged beneath the skin, black and contorted. The air around the corpse smelled like a body that had been left out in the sun for days instead of just a few minutes.

"Cerberus did this to their own guy?" Kaidan asked, aghast. Slowly, he fixed Shepard with that same horrified terror. "Is… is this what they did to you?"

"WHAT?!" Shepard snapped out of his stupor to round on the man. "How can you compare me to him!"

"Shepard, I don't know what you are, or who. Not since Cerberus rebuilt you."

"Oh, so I'm not just a Cerberus double-agent now, I'm promoted to Reaper-monster too?"

"I just wanna know if the person I followed into hell-and-back is still in there?"

Outraged, Shepard lunged forward and snatched hold of Kaidan's collar. He pulled the man nearly off his feet as he thrust his nose into the Major's face. "Let me be real fucking clear then so you understand. I told the Illusive Man where he could shove his credits. I cut ties with Cerberus. I was brought back only to stop the Reapers. You can either join me on that mission, or you can leave. But make up your goddamn mind!"

He shoved Kaidan away. Before the argument could escalate further, a loud crackling fought through their radios. Amidst the static, a female voice sounded in alarm. "Shepard! Be advised!"

"What is it EDI?" asked the Commander, composed once more. "You're breaking up."

"Strong toxins resembling the taint are present in the corpse! Do not touch –"

The radio went dead. Kaidan awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and attempted to break the silence. "Damn it. Storm's really working us over, huh Shepard? Shepard?"

But he was no longer listening. He knew something about this seemed off. EDI's comment of the taint in this corpse reminded Shepard of his grandest failure, the one he was apparently now paying the price for.

For the first three months of his incarceration, he'd tried everything he could to either get out, get a message out to someone, or learn whatever he could about the kidnapping of Elaine Cousland. The woman out of time, the Grey Warden who defied all logic and history with her fantastical story, the soldier who had helped him defeat the Collectors. Kidnapped as she and Shepard had been transported to Earth, Shepard had been powerless to help her. No one in the Alliance would listen to him, no one wanted him leaving Earth to go find her. Each day had been a new torture in guilt for him. He'd tried to convince others to go after her, to hunt down Cerberus and bring her back – for he was sure that it was Cerberus who had framed her of a crime she didn't commit and used it as the perfect cover to steal her away. Yet Shepard had held no authority to command anyone, and no one would tell him anything. So, he'd wallowed.

And now, Cerberus was back and with traces of the taint in them? A taint that only Elaine or the Collectors knew anything of? Shepard tried not to think of what she must've suffered during these six months. But as he carried on forward, set on a warpath that he carved through the Cerberus troops, the images refused to leave him be. Had she been tortured? Dissected? Brainwashed? Was she even still alive?

He shook his head vigorously to clear away such a thought. No! He had to believe she was still alive! Cerberus had to still have her, he wouldn't abandon her to them forever.

This vengeful fury was what fuelled him as he led the charge straight towards the archive. It gave every bullet extra power, every swing of his fist more force. It brought him before the doors to the Archives, the data they needed just beyond. He'd butchered through the Cerberus teams that had lain in wait for him up to this point. Now, all that remained between him and his objective, were three sentries posted outside the doors. Shepard paused in his automatic urge to fill them full of bullets. The three men seemed fidgety – and not as in they knew their men were getting killed and expected the enemy upon them. No, the fidgeted as if they literally had something crawling beneath their skin. One of them even twitched his head to and fro erratically.

One guard attempted to break the silence, speaking in loud whispers: "Delta and Bravo squad have gone quiet. Do we break radio silence?"

"You heard Eva, no comm. chatter." The second one then looked to the third, who seemed to be far more disturbed than the other two. "You okay there, Chuck?"

"Can't get the damn music out of my head! You hear it too! Why isn't it driving you mad?"

"You better pack that shit in, Chuck! I ain't getting sick for you! We're all hearing it, you just gotta pull it together."

"Can't. Can't. Can't!"

Despite how much this intrigued Shepard, the guards needed to be put down. Why had they acted so strangely? Was it the Reaper-tech? Or the taint? The third guard's comment about hearing music fit with Elaine's descriptions of the music of the Blight only a tainted creature can hear.

It was a mystery for another day as he, Kaidan and Liara killed the guards and quickly swept into the Archives – at last. Liara went straight for the terminal, her fingers moving at lightning speed over the keys as she attempted to call up the data. Kaidan cautiously walked the perimeter for any hidden threats. Shepard stood by Liara, staring up at the huge monolith that was the Prothean Archives, protected behind a cylindrical prison of safety-glass. They stood like giant versions of the Prothien Beacon he'd found on Eden Prime. The Commander shivered at the memories of the beaon invading his mind, almost tearing him apart as it forced visions into his skull.

A light drew his attention away. In a small corner, a familiar-looking pad on the floor began to light up. Flickering blue, walked on the form of a man in a black and white suit, a cigarette held between two fingers. He smirked at the glaring Commander. "Shepard."

Liara spun at the voice, pistol out and pointed. Then she noticed it was a hologram, and her face twisted into a sneer that matched Shepard's. "Illusive Man."

"Fascinating race, the Protheans. They left all this for us to discover, yet we've squandered it." Said the older man, looking up at the archives looming above them. "The Alliance has known about the Archives for more than thirty years, and what have they done with it?"

Shepard was not in the mood for his philosophical bullshit. "Cut to the chase. What do you want?"

"What I've always wanted." He practically purred. "The data in these artefacts holds the key to solving the Reaper threat."

"I've seen your 'solution'. Your people are turned into monsters."

"Hardly. They're being improved." How dare he say such a thing with a straight face! "I am crafting finer soldiers than the Alliance could ever dream of. Stronger, tougher. It's a pity you squandered such potential when you had such a solution on your ship."

"Elaine." Shepard hissed. His worst fears had been realised, then. He stormed towards the hologram, having to remind himself that he couldn't grab hold of it or kick it in the balls for this. "You twisted bastard! You took her!"

"I did warn you, Shepard, that there would be consequences for turning your back on me."

"You son-of-a-bitch! Tell me where she is! Or I swear to God, I will hunt you down. There will be no corner of the Galaxy I won't search until I find you and I make you pay!"

"How predictable." The Illusive Man tsked, taking a long drag of his cigarette and puffing the holographic smoke in the Commander's face. "You see, Shepard, this is what separates you and I. Where you see a chance to destroy, I see a means to control, to dominate. Imagine how strong humanity could be if we controlled the Taint. Or the Reapers."

Shepard stared. Where in the hell had this come from? "Earth is under siege and you're hatching a scheme to control the Reapers?!"

"You've always been short-sighted. Hasty. Your destruction of the Collector Base proved that." A twitch of a glower was the only thing to betray the older man's true emotion. "I, however, have the far-reaching vision that will see humanity through this war and beyond. This isn't your fight any longer."

"You brought me back because you knew what I could do. You knew what I was capable of. I can defeat the Reapers. And once I'm done with that – you're next."

"Doubtful." The Illusive Man shook his head, disappointed. "You were a tool, an agent with a singular purpose. But like the rest of the relics in this place, your time is over."

In the fringes of nowhere, even in the midst of the darkness between stars, sat a tiny little station. No colours were flown, no ship appeared in or out. The corridors were mostly deserted except for a few members of staff, barely enough to be called a skeleton crew. In one tiny room, hunched in a corner sat a shivering woman. Her long dirtied blond hair fell to her waist, matted and tangled with split ends and the roots slick with grease from so long without a wash. Nails dug into pale flesh, criss-crossed with scars and bruises. Ribs poked out through her skin, the hospital gown she wore doing very little to cover her modesty or protect her from the cold that permeated the metal cell in which she occupied.

Blindly, her hand reached into a small corner where a crack allowed only the tiniest of cubbyholes. Inside, her fingers found something smooth and round and she plucked it out. Icy blue eyes opened and glanced down at the talisman-coin she nestled in her palm, the carved face of a Drell stared up at her. She imagined the Drell coming to life, to fill her with a warm rolling voice and give her gentle advice, motivate her to continue living for another day. Cracked lips split into a deranged smile at the pleasant thought of hearing such a voice again.

But hadn't she already lived through so many days, she mentally tried to argue with the coin. Surely, she could have a break from it all, right? No, the coin told her. It reminded her that she was no coward, that she would not be broken by them, she was too stubborn to let anyone take her choice of death away from her. She was Elaine Cousland, after all, and she would bow to no foe! Her fingers closed around the coin, as it told her to live one day more. It always told her to live one day more. But she remembered all the days leading up to this one. Some had been more striking for her memory than others.

Day 5:

When they'd arrived at the tiny station, they'd thrown her in her cell and closed the door behind her. For four days no one spoke a word to her, no one visited. The only time the silence inside was broken was when the tray at the bottom of the door opened to slide her meals in. Perhaps they had thought to break her with solitary confinement. Little did they think of her resolve. On the fifth day, men in armour had struggled with her as she fought like a wildcat, to drag her out of the room. They'd dragged her to a small lab, where doctors had attempted to make her undergo some tests. Simple things, like how fast or how long she could run, how much weight she could lift, how much force of impact her body could sustain. All tests to try and see where the limits of her body lay. When she'd at first refused or attempted to get loose, she was struck with electric batons. Once the tests were done, she'd been thrown in her cell.

Day 13:

The tests had been interrupted when she'd been forced into a small cupboard room, with the only piece of furniture being a screen hanging on the wall. An older woman had appeared on it and had spoken with Elaine. After Elaine had exhausted her own tongue on profanities and demands and threats to be released, the woman had attempted to win her over. The drivel she spouted was to be expected. "What we are doing here is for the greater good." Or "You could help Cerberus, and humanity, immeasurably by helping us to understand." And then had come the attempt at explaining it all: "We are trying to bring Humanity to the apex of our evolution." Then came the passive-aggressive pressure on her sense of morality: "Think of all the suffering you could alleviate, the people you would save, if you help us." When the woman had done her preaching, Elaine had told her exactly where to shove it.

Day 32:

The physical tests had ended abruptly and had been replaced by the horrors of modern medicine. On that day it had merely been blood samples taken away, skin flakes, hair and finger-nail fragments. But in the days that would follow would come more variation with the needles and vials and scissors. Toxins might be pumped into her blood-stream to see how well she coped, or maybe an infection would purposefully be given on another day to see how quickly she fought the disease. But on that day, as she was escorted back to her cell, came her first escape attempt. She'd been planning it for the past month, constructing it around the schedule of her captors. As she was pushed back into her cell, she latched onto her guard and pulled him to her embrace and broke his collar bone. The second guard had tried to call for help, which she'd tried to silence by attempting to strangle him with her bedding sheets. But her mercy to the first guard had betrayed her. Other guards had swarmed in and beaten her until she was black and blue and unconscious. She'd woken up to her cell being empty of any bed or blankets that she might use again, leaving her to sleep on the cold metal floor.

Day 79

She had long known that the man who had captured her, Kei Leng, was the man in charge of this whole facility. She would often spy him peeking through windows during her tests or observing in some corner of the room. But this was the first time he ever chose to be alone with her. He'd come into her cell and told her to fight. Elaine had been most confused at first, but devising another opportunity to escape, she had taken it. But weak from blood-tests, underfed, she was not what she used to be, and of course he didn't fight fair. She gave as good as she got, but he'd taken the fight until he finally used a taser on her to gain the advantage. He'd held her down, he'd goaded her. At first, she'd thought he intended to violate her. But Kei Leng at first only beat her down and crowed with triumph on how he was better than her, better than anyone. Once he was finished, he allowed her guards to come and drag her away. She was put in the tiny room with the screen again, where the woman appeared and tried to brainwash her. It was the same usual lines Elaine had always expected of Cerberus: "Aliens are not our allies," or "We must protect ourselves from the inevitable alien threat," or "Cerberus is only looking out for humanity's best interests, to advance us towards our destiny – galactic dominance." And then had come the blow too close to home: "You have sullied yourself by consorting with the enemy; help Cerberus and this will be your chance to redeem yourself." Elaine had flown into such a rage, she'd smashed the screen into pieces with her bare hands.

Day 100

Then came the worst days of all. After being dragged from her cell, Elaine had assumed more blood-tests had been in order. But as she was strapped down to a table, almost to the point where the belts and buckles restricted her from breathing, she'd learned the terrible truth: mere blood samples were not enough anymore. As the doctors had approached, Elaine had screamed and tried to break free. She even managed to break one of the restraints. But then men were holding her down just long enough for the doctors to pierce her skin with their needles. She'd felt rushing warmth, and then darkness. When she woke up, she was back in her cell, feeling extremely weak, sickly even. At the side of her waist was now a neat row of stitches, perhaps as long as a finger. It was the first of many times Elaine would be carried off to surgery, to have parts of her cut away piece by piece.

Day 154

The fringes of insanity had begun to creep in, and the only way to combat it was to have a small scant hope. She'd planned and executed another escape attempt. She'd starved herself for two days, not touching the trays pushed through the small metal slot in the bottom of her door. The jailor had noticed as he opened the hatch, the previous meal lay untouched. He had to take the old one away, but it was out of reach of the slot. Elaine had waited, silent and still beside the door, out of sight. She waited until the moment the hand reached through to grab the old tray, and that's when she struck. Viciously, she'd pulled the man through the hatch as far as his broad shoulders would allow. Her mercy had damned her the first time, she wouldn't let it happen again. Grabbing hold of the hatch, she'd slammed it down on the man's neck to stop his screams. She'd slammed it on his throat over and over until he lay almost decapitated in a growing pool of blood. Elaine had tried to work the body in a certain way so she might reach for the keys on his belt. But her luck had run out. Guards appeared and took away the body. When she'd next gone to surgery, she woke up in a new cell, this one with no slot in the door. From that point on, she had to take her meals being force-fed down her throat.

Day 180

All throughout her captivity, she'd been interrogated almost daily by her captors: what was the nature of the taint? What were Grey Wardens? How did she become what she is? Could she replicate the initiation? What were the side-effects? She always gave them nothing. Yet now, it seemed that whatever results they were getting from the samples they were taking from her were not good enough. Frustration was running rampant in their body-language. Demanding answers, they'd finally taken her into the surgery room. Elaine had thought they would cut her again, give her a new scar. But instead, after they'd strapped her down, they'd begun to interrogate her again with new vigour. When she gave them either no answer or a sarcastic one, she was electrocuted. With each question, the voltage was cranked higher, the pain made more intense. They wanted answers, but they also wanted to see how far she could go until her body gave out. Elaine had tried to keep her expression cool. She tried to deny them a reaction. But eventually, she began to grit her teeth, her muscles spasmed, her breathing grew laboured, and when the dam burst, she was screaming. She held on for as long as she could, but eventually lost consciousness and awoke once more in her cell, unable to move from exhaustion.

And now here she sat, 182 days after her capture, playing with a coin, counting her old and fresher scars, with a fool's hope diminishing in her heart. She tried to listen to the hope the coin offered, tried to remember what she needed to get back to. There was a quest she had to complete, people waiting for her. As she imagined finally fighting free of this nightmare and going home to a ship that sailed the stars (it felt almost like a myth now), she tried not to accidentally fall asleep. Not even her dreams were safe anymore. Always filled with nightmares of either her continuous torture or the monster and the dragon that awaited her.

Suddenly her door opened. Elaine hurriedly pushed the coin back into its hiding spot. She scrambled to her feet, blinking to try and adjust her eyes to the bright light beyond the door. In stepped a familiar lean figure, and he closed the door behind him with a loud screech. "Hello, Flower," he said.

He'd always called her that. Since the first time he came into her cell, he'd said: "You're not a warrior, not really, more like a delicate flower." And now he used it to mock, yet also spoke with the same soft tones one might use with an endearment, just to make her skin crawl. Elaine said nothing to him, just glared.

"Come on, Flower, you know the routine. Give it your best shot."

She remained where she was, back pressed against the wall. Kei Leng liked to show his control over her; she had a suspicion that he somehow got off on being dominant, on being able to show her who was stronger. Each time he came to her cell, she consoled herself with the promise that once she was free, once she was healed, once she was back to her full strength, she would tear him apart. But for now, she had to win smaller victories, such as defying his authority, not giving into him, show him he didn't have the dominance over her he wanted.

Leng's eyes, hidden behind strange shaded spectacles, narrowed – she could tell by the now familiar way his brows and cheeks pinched. "I said, fight."

Elaine remained where she was.

He stormed towards, a rush meant to spook her. She stepped away from the wall, planted her feet and stood her ground, scowling into his face as he came at her. A tight, bone-crushing grip grabbed hold of her wrist, his shoulder slammed into her chest. The air was forced out of her lungs and her bruised and battered body nearly crumpled in exhaustion. His knee forced her legs apart as he unbalanced her, his forearm pressed against her collarbone to pin her to the wall. Mind reeling, her instincts kicked in.

Knee jerking upwards, she slammed it up into his ribs. The blow should've winded him as he did her, but of course, he was still wearing armour, and she had on nothing but a frail dirtied sheet of paper. Leng grunted, but more damage was done to Elaine as her knee reverberated with the blow. Her free arm came up and she grabbed hold of his hair and yanked it back. The man hissed and slammed her body back into the wall.

A whimper tried to escape, but Elaine clenched her teeth on the sound. That was enough, her battered body could give her no more. Fury burned in her stomach to think she had fallen so low.

Leng smirked as he leaned his head close to hers, until their noses almost touched. "See? Wasn't that fun–"

Elaine's head shot forward and slammed into Leng's nose. She saw stars, Leng gasped and released her as he stumbled back. Heavy like a stone, she fell in a heap on the floor. Somewhere in her frazzled mind, she could hear a young Krogan cheering for her that that had been a superb headbutt. But her triumph didn't last long. Before she could regain her feet, Kei Leng was on her again, growling savagely, blood dripping from his nose. That had been the third time she'd broken it. Harsh hands grabbed hold of her and hoisted her into the air. She was slammed face-first into the wall. Her cheek was scrapped raw, her breasts were squashed and Leng wrenched her arms behind her back until they nearly popped out of their sockets. Her breathing came out as hisses. Leng pressed his thigh against her backside, pushed his chest against her back.

"You know I like it when you play dirty, Flower," he whispered beside her ear, almost like a lover would. But all he did was repulse her, his touch made her want to punch him, his confusing false-affectionate gestures made her want to vomit. He was nothing like what a lover should be! He was not gentle, not reverent, not loving! Not like –

NO! she vehemently thought and stamped down that thought before she could finish it. She refused to think of that, think of him. At first, his name had been reserved for her dreams, she didn't want her captors to know about him, to find him and hurt him, or hurt her through him. But after so many lonely nights, so many maddening days, she had come to refuse to think of him. She refused to even imagine his smiling face waiting for her, his kind eyes, or the warmth of his arms. Tears pricked her eyes, and she tried to rid him from her mind. The longing in her heart was too painful. If she lingered on it any longer, it would be the final straw that would send her spiralling into insanity.

"You know," Leng was saying into her ear, "I'm going to miss this. Our little parties are always the highlight of my week. But don't worry, Flower, I won't be gone long. Just a few little jobs for the Illusive Man. When I get back, I'll be sure to make up for lost time."

And then, he did something he'd never done before. He leaned in, and he kissed her. Just a brief peck on the cheek. But still, Elaine couldn't stop herself from squealing in disgust. His laughter echoed around the metal chamber as he released her and strutted out of the room. Elaine clawed at her cheek, trying to scrape away the loathsome feeling of his touch. The door slammed closed behind him, and she was left in the darkness once more.

Menae was a complete mess. Shepard had been hoping the Turians were giving the Reapers a hard time, they were famed throughout the galaxy for their military prowess. It was disheartening to think that the greatest army in the galaxy were still being pummelled by the Reapers. Yet Anderson had ordered him to recruit the races to help Earth, and damnit, that's what Shepard was going to do! Somehow, in the last twenty-four hours, the fate of the galaxy, of Earth, now relyied on a summit that demanded united support from all the council races. And Shepard was playing errand boy to fetch a Turian Primarch.

And of course, it couldn't just be a simple pickup. That would be too easy.

"Succession is usually simple," General Corinthus was telling him. "But right now, the hierarchy's in chaos. So many dead or MIA."

Shepard was beginning to lose his tether. Mars had been a shit-fest, Kaidan was barely alive in a hospital on the Citadel, Shepard apparently was suffering from some really freaky nightmares, the Council had refused to help Earth – because why should he expect help from them at this point – and now the original Primarch was dead, and apparently no one knew who the new Primarch was gonna be.

He made his irritation plain in his voice. "I need someone – I don't care who – as long as they can get us the Turian resources we need."

"I'm on it, Shepard," came a voice, so familiar and welcomed at such a dire time, Shepard couldn't help the corners of his mouth upturning into a smile. "We'll find you the Primarch."

And there he stood, tall and proud in heavy silver and blue armour. His signature visor glowed angelic blue, lighting up the secret smile that twitched on his mandibles. Garrus seemed to stand a little taller than what Shepard remembered, all the attention in the camp seeming to be directed straight onto him. When even the General saluted Garrus, Shepard's best friend took it in stride, like he was born for this. But Shepard knew him well enough to spot the ever so slight bashful shift of his eyes.

Shepard eagerly marched up to his friend and clasped his wrist in a firm shake. "It's good to see you again. Though I'd thought you'd be on Palaven."

"If we lose this moon, we lose Palaven." Garrus corrected gravely. "I'm the closest damn thing we have to an expert on Reaper forces, so I'm… advising."

As Shepard proudly introduced Garrus to Vega, and pleasantries were exchanged with Liara, Shepard could feel a bit of his hope returning. With one more old friend and good soldier on his side, he could almost see the light at the end of the tunnel. It was still a long way off, but Shepard knew his crew, knew what they were capable of. It was something he'd learned the long and hard way back against the Collectors. But he knew that with them still in this fight, his chances of getting this done would be a hell of a lot easier.

And then, Garrus shifted to speak to the General, and Shepard's eyes caught on something on his back. His smile vanished.

Strapped to Garrus' back, right in between the holders for his sniper-rifle and assault-rifle, was a sword. And not just any sword. Shepard instantly recognised the unique shape, even when sheathed in its scabbard. A hint of the blade's strange blue-grey metal peeked out at the top. That was Starfang… Elaine's sword. Shepard had been there on that day she'd given it to him, when Shepard and Elaine were to be arrested by the Alliance. She'd given it to Garrus, for him to keep it safe on the promise that he could return it to her once they were reunited. Shepard had watched them from a small way off and had smiled. Now, all the sword did was fill him with dread.

That same dread followed him as Garrus led him and Vega across the battlefield to where General Victus – the new Primarch – had last been spotted. As they climbed steep hills and leapt over fissures, Shepard couldn't stop his eyes from returning to that sword. It taunted him from where it rested on Garrus' back. Like it was accusing him, reminding him of his failure, how he had failed to tell Garrus that the woman he loved had been taken. Garrus couldn't have known, he'd made no mention of it, and the way he spoke was as if everything was alright. The longer the elephant in the room went unaddressed, the more anxious Shepard became for when it would burst.

And eventually, it did.

They managed to find General Victus, and convinced him to leave the battle and return to the Normandy in order to chair the war-summit. Though stubbornly refusing in order to stay in the fight with his fellow soldiers at first, Shepard had managed to get him on board with a single promise: bring in the Krogan. It was a hefty price, and Shepard didn't know if he could deliver. But for Victus' integrity, and his no-bullshit attitude, Shepard greatly admired him. He wished all political leaders were like Victus and Anderson – those two would get on like peas in a pod.

"Without him down here, there's a good chance we lose this moon." said Garrus, coming over to stand beside Shepard as Victus went off to say his farewells to his men.

Shepard didn't miss a beat in his retort. "Without him up there, there's a good chance we lose everything."

A loud, spine-shivering roar echoed from miles off, the grating cacophony of a Reaper. Shepard and Garrus looked out into the distance, as a Reaper capital-ship stomped through a far-off battle, destroying everything in its path. Garrus slumped at the sight.

"Look at that!" he exclaimed. "And they want my opinion on how to stop it? Failed C-SEC officer, vigilante… and I'm their expert advisor?" he shook his head, huffing in disbelief. "Think you can win this thing, Shepard?"

"Yeah, I don't know, Garrus," Shepard murmured truthfully. "But I'm sure as hell gonna give it my best shot."

Garrus turned to face the Commander, an easy smirk working across his face. "I'm damn sure nobody else can do it. For whatever it's worth, I'm with you." He held out his hand.

Shepard shook it. "Welcome aboard."

"You may have given me some incentive," Garrus chuckled and pulled the sword from off his back. "With you and Elaine out of incarceration finally, I can give this thing back. Though I'll admit it's saved my life more than once in the past few weeks. It'll be good to see her again. I expected her on the ground with you – she could never resist a good fight. Where is she?"

Shepard felt his stomach drop into his toes. Garrus must've read the moment Shepard's smile faded, or the guilty look in his eyes. It was suddenly hard to speak past the lump in his throat. "I… I'm sorry, Garrus. I don't know where she is. Cerberus has her."