A/N: I found this on my hard drive and decided to post it. I find it difficult to get inside Kaidan's head, but there were parts that had to be from his perspective, so hopefully they won't be too bad. Sorry about the weird formatting of the summary; is being strange.

~.~.~

Part 1

Shepard held the mirror shard aloft, catching a glance of her own pale blue-grey eyes before angling it so she could see around the corner. The corridor was empty, to her relief. Broken glass glittered on the floor in a cheap mockery of diamonds; Shepard twisted the mirror so she could see the broken window. The office suite behind it was equally deprived of hostiles, as was the suite on the opposite side, though this one still had its window intact. Every mech she didn't have to fight was a blessing. While she was no stranger to pain, the experience of red-hot needles stabbing through her muscles – the worst pain residing in her bones, of all places – was unique. Shepard hadn't been aware it was possible to cause consistent damage to her entire body. Breathing took more effort than she remembered, as if lead bands encircled her torso and her lungs weren't sure what to do. The hot prickling across her skin, most prominent around the strange yellow-orange scars, was the worst. It felt like her skin would split apart at any moment, releasing her innards to the harsh outside world. Working off the last of the sedative in her system was more familiar but an equal hindrance. The combat situation made slower reactions dangerous, if not lethal.

Pushing off from the wall, Shepard pocketed the mirror shard with a silent curse at the painfully limited civilian-grade omni-tool she had scavenged. Without it or a visor – for the person who deposited the foreign N7 armour in the medbay's locker had neglected to give her a helmet – Shepard had no way to scan for life signs. Using a mirror was primitive but it worked, even if it raised memories of her childhood on Earth. Glass crunched under her boots as she stepped into the corridor, pistol raised, and edged forward until she reached the green locking mechanism on the suite that was still completely intact. The door divided into sections as it sprang back with a hiss.

The owner of the office kept it in the 'ideal' state of cleanliness and organisation that most failed to achieve. A private terminal, a datapad and a half-empty mug of lukewarm coffee were the only objects on the expansive desk. The items on the shelves – datapads, OSDs and folders – were carefully arranged in unknown categories. Shepard noticed the absence of photos, knick knacks and other personal items. That, combined with the austere white and silver décor reinforced the atmosphere of sterility.

Shepard narrowed her eyes at the yellow and black emblem painted on the far wall. It was likely an insignia, though she had never seen any organisation affiliate with it. The harsh edges and even harsher colour scheme contrasted starkly with the sleek silver Systems Alliance seal she had expected to see. Shepard caught her lower lip between her teeth – even her teeth hurt – as she thought.

If this wasn't an Alliance facility, then where was she?

The usual occupant of the office had left their private terminal open, a series of progress logs listed across the screen. She opened one of the audio logs. While the words made sense, Shepard didn't truly comprehend them. She heard but didn't listen as a female voice – the same female that had woken her over the comm system – droned on about organ functionality and bio-synthetics.

Shepard noticed the user's email account was open; she perused the messages in the inbox. Most were succinct and apathetic, again referring to "the subject". The lines of text, without revealing any context, quickly blurred and became indecipherable. Shaking her head did little to tear the thin veils of lethargy lingering in her mind.

As Shepard began to turn away, an idea froze her pained muscles.

Alenko.

She had to contact Alenko. Another glance at the insignia on the wall caused her stomach to clench with more than physical discomfort. If this was not an Alliance facility nor that of one of its affiliates – as the foreign seal heavily suggested – then she likely needed extraction. Shepard didn't know if the organisation was friend or foe, and that unknown gnawed at her.

Opening a fresh draft, Shepard's fingers typed her jumbled thoughts, solidifying them in the tangible state of glowing yellow text.

Kaidan

Something's wrong. I don't know how I got here, but I woke up on some station – someone hacked the security mechs and now they're all hostile. The facility doesn't look Alliance, though, so either it's deep undercover or this isn't an Allian

Her eye was caught by the datestamp on the bottom of the display. Eyes widening, Shepard's thoughts alternated between no no no and shit shit shit.

The year was 2185.

Two years? Shepard's hands clutched at the edge of the desk as her already-traumatised knees shook. The cold metal bit into the mesh covering her palms. No. That has to be wrong!

When she was sufficiently steadied, her hands rose of their own violation to continue typing. Clanking footsteps and the whir of mechanics caught her attention. Shepard glanced over her shoulder at a patrol of three mechs. Garish red optics burnt her eyes as one detected her through the thick pane of glass.

They disappeared from view. Shepard heard the low chirp of a failed bypass attempt. The lock remained a firm red.

She then heard the buzz of a laser cutter.

What? Shepard's brow furrowed as she felt for her pistol. Standard programming for security mechs was to continue hacking using more complex algorithms until they succeeded. Someone had changed their protocol. Errant stands of chestnut brown hair flicked into her face as she whirled back to the terminal.

mechs burning through the door. love you

Shepard hit send and turned. She drifted to the left and crouched so she was not immediately in the line of sight. One hand slipped a grenade from her belt while her other aimed the pistol at the portal.

She had no intention of being killed by mechs.