Author's Note: This will not be a retelling of the game, per se. I plan to skip over quite a bit of content and I hope that doesn't make the story too jarring. But I'd like to add more emotion and reaction to certain events in the game and show several scenes and reactions that were not shown in the game. If I do detail a scene from the game, it will most likely be altered in some way, to better fit with how I thought the characters should have acted in that situation, rather than how they really acted in the game. I hope you will enjoy my interpretation of events. :) All the basic ideas and events of the story remain intact, however. Also, just fyi, this will definitely be more of an emotional exploration than an action-packed adventure. I must send sincere thanks and kudos to my beta sinvraal, who is brilliant! And many thanks also to all of you for reading!

Moment

Kaidan barely had time to grip the edge of the console in front of him before the Normandy shifted violently enough to cause a lag in the inertial dampeners. He stumbled as the g-forces threw him forward, nearly cart-wheeling headfirst over the whole computer display. Other crew members not lucky enough to have found a handhold in time cried out as they lost their footing and fell, sliding helplessly across the smooth floor.

Another sudden yaw yanked him backward and he lost his grip, slamming hard into the wall behind him. He cursed under his breath as he righted himself, groping for anything else to grab as the Normandy again shuddered around him. Klaxons blared abruptly, and his console began flashing red. Kaidan went to the keyboard, keeping a wide stance for balance, and hit a few commands, his eyes scanning the damage readouts.

Bad. It was all very bad.

A strange feeling bloomed in the pit of his stomach. They'd been doing this for months. The Normandy had survived Saren, and Sovereign, and the Battle of the Citadel, and countless geth attacks. The Normandy… couldn't be destroyed like this.

An explosion rocked the deck and Kaidan found himself airborne for a brief moment; then the floor came rushing back to meet him and his vision flashed white as his body jarred against the ground and rolled, landing in a heap against the supply lockers. His ears rang, his whole body ached, but Kaidan forced himself to get to his hands and knees. He lifted his head only to see wreckage, fire and burning bodies.

Shepard.

The lieutenant shoved himself to his feet, stumbling toward his own locker. He yanked out his hardsuit, struggling to step into it as the ship continued to buck and shudder. Finally he had it, sealed it. He grabbed his helmet, shoving it on as he ran.

Twenty minutes of air left….

He'd seen the readouts. Anyone on the ship after that wouldn't survive. The crew had to get off. They had to abandon ship.

He'd almost reached the stairs to the flight deck when the announcement blared over the PA, in Shepard's voice: "All crew abandon ship! Repeat: all crew abandon ship! Get to the escape pods immediately! I repeat, abandon ship!"

Her voice clicked off, replaced once more by klaxons. Kaidan switched directions; Shepard was obviously fine. He headed instead for the one person he knew would never abandon this ship: Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau.

Kaidan watched her dart off through the fire after Joker, who had refused to budge despite all his own frantic pleading, and it was all he could do not to go after her. It took every ounce of his willpower to resist, but he reminded himself that if he were to disobey her orders now, she'd have him reassigned to a different command before their escape pod had even landed.

Some compromise, he thought bitterly, tearing his eyes from the hall where she'd disappeared and going to finish rounding up the rest of the crew. It was the only way she'd been able to convince herself to allow him to stay aboard the Normandy after his little run-in with Rahna Bachar and the Clotanca virus. They would serve together on the same ship, she would once again be his CO, they could continue their relationship, as long as they continued to act professionally while on duty. And the only way Shepard was convinced they could maintain that professionalism was by strict adherence to non-favoritism from her, and a promise to never question her orders – based on an emotional reason - from him.

So he went now to get the rest of the crew into pods, against every instinct that screamed within him to refuse to leave her side. He was a good soldier.

And sometimes he hated himself for it.

"Go, go, go!"

The lieutenant waved the last of the crew through the escape pod's small round door. But his eyes kept drifting down the hall, desperately hoping to see the silhouettes of Shepard and Joker hobbling his way.

He saw only flickering lights and flame.

Another explosion tore through the bulkhead to his left and he ducked away as shrapnel went hurtling past his head. He heard a scream; turned back around to see one of the newer recruits lying dead on the floor.

Kaidan swallowed hard, stepping through the pod's door. He hesitated before closing it, looking down the hall again. Still nothing.

His heart throbbed so hard in his chest he thought it might break through his armor. It's all right, he told himself. They can get out in the forward pod. They probably already launched it.

"Come on, Lieutenant!" a voice called from behind him. "We gotta go!"

Kaidan ground his teeth, finally ducking inside and hitting the button to close the door. He took the nearest seat, buckling his restraint harness.

Please, Shepard. Please. Don't make it end like this.

"Brace for launch!" he barked aloud, his voice hoarse. He punched the button to release the pod with far too much force, and the little capsule shot off into space, leaving the dying Normandy far behind it.

Elizabeth Shepard had considered death many times in the course of her twenty-nine years of life. First, when the batarians had raided Mindoir and she'd seen her family murdered right in front of her. Later, her military career had often forced her to consider it. The thought she might not survive had managed to weasel its way into her head on more than one occasion: fighting the threshers on Akuze, fighting the Thorian on Feros, fighting the Sovereign-implanted Saren on the Citadel.

But this time the thought of death, the notion that she might not survive, had never crossed her mind. Not when the Normandy had first been hit, not when she'd realized they had to abandon ship, not when she'd walked through open space to retrieve Joker.

Not, at least, until now, as she watched Joker's escape pod arc toward the atmosphere of the planet below and the Normandy blow apart above her. She knew of the old saying, the belief, that in the moment before death one's whole life would flash before their eyes, but it was not her whole life she considered in this moment.

She could hear the air hissing out of her damaged hardsuit, hear her own heartbeat pulsing frantically in her ears as she drifted, helpless, but all she could think of were the past few months. All she could feel was sadness. The Normandy, which had become her home, was destroyed, nothing more than a sparkling expanse of slowly spinning debris. She knew there would be no rescue for her, and she couldn't help but feel cheated. Her mission wasn't done yet. She couldn't die before it was done….

At least her crew was safe… she twisted around to look at the icy planet of Alchera as she began to gasp for air that wasn't there, her head aching, her vision blurring. Her crew was safe; they would continue the fight. Kaidan was safe…

Her heart stabbed with grief, regret. Kaidan.

I'm sorry, Kaidan.

She let the image of his face fill her mind, to try and block out the pain, the ripping, tearing pain.

I'm sorry….

His face was her last thought.

Kaidan finished applying medi-gel to the minor wounds of the crew in his pod and packed up the supplies with shaking hands. Their luck in this situation had been almost unthinkable; the planet had been suitable for landing the pods, which would lessen the chance of them becoming more target practice for the still-as-of-yet-unidentified ship. Alchera's gravity was just slightly less than Earth's, though the surface temperature was a chilly -22 Celsius and the air wasn't breathable by human standards. Still, as far as an emergency landing platform went, the planet was more than they could have hoped for. The ground was solid and the weather was nothing a hardsuit couldn't handle. The pods were climate-controlled and came equipped with gear that would allow the crew inside to survive for weeks, if needed, in virtually any environment. Compared to some worlds, Alchera was easily survivable - as long as rescue arrived before rations ran out.

The lieutenant's mind, however, gave little thought to such luck. One thought and one thought only dominated his being… the forward launch pod. It had not landed near their coordinates, and thus far neither his omni-tool nor the pod's tracking systems had been able to locate its transponder signal. Too much time had passed already… if it had been launched at all, they should have seen or heard some sign of it by now. Engineer Adams insisted it was possible that the pod's navigation system had kept it in orbit – could still be keeping it in orbit – in an effort to calculate the safest descent route.

Kaidan prayed that wasn't just the man's wishful thinking.

Adams suddenly jolted upright in his seat, pointing to the tiny amber-lit display across from him which automatically cycled environmental data. A new prompt had appeared among the endless statistics, flashing in bright green. "Look!" he shouted. "Another pod's coming in!"

Kaidan's heart shoved into his throat as he followed the man's finger to the block of small green print. He immediately brought up his omni-tool just to be sure, running the signal scanner once more.

His breath caught as the software confirmed his wildest hope: the forward launch pod.

"Communications?" he asked breathlessly, feeling his heartbeat pulse, his focus narrow.

Engineer Adams shook his head, his own omni-tool open and lit now. "No… looks like the forward pod took some damage… none of their outside systems are working. No communications, sensors, scanners, environmental probes, nothing. That's probably why we couldn't detect any sign of them until now."

Kaidan's throat tried to close on him, but he managed to ask, "What about life support?"

"Still active, Lieutenant. Climate control, boosters, all fine. Looks like their trajectory is a good one, they should be landing in a few minutes."

He forced himself to swallow, to move, standing stiffly from his seat. "Okay. I'm going to go check on them and see how they're doing, see if they need any medical treatment. Everyone else stay here, keep open communications with the other pods in range. And try to get a count of… of how many we're missing."

Solemn eyes stared back at him in the dim lighting, followed by silent nodding. He turned away from them and activated the first door of the pod's tiny airlock, then stepped through as it opened. It closed behind him and he activated the second door. He heard the pumps even through his helmet as the small space equalized in pressure, then the outside door swung open, revealing a wide stretch of frozen wasteland.

Kaidan took a deep breath and stepped from the pod. The gusting wind almost knocked him off his feet, but he regained his balance at the last second and braced himself, programming his omni-tool to give him a predicted landing zone for the incoming pod. The coordinates were nearly two kilometers away. The lieutenant started at a walk, getting used to the gravity and wind, then stepped up into a jog, and then a full-out sprint.

I'm coming, Shepard.

The lighter gravity made him faster, but the wind and rough terrain made the distance no less of an effort. By the time he reached the forward pod's final resting place he was panting, sweat trickling down between his shoulder blades. He slid down the incline of the small crater the vehicle had made in the ice and drew up short of the still-smoking outer hull. Kaidan brought up his omni-tool again, remotely activating the airlock's external door release. The latches flew up and the door popped open with a hiss.

The lieutenant jumped inside, hauling the outer door shut behind him and eagerly punching the button to open the inner door. It felt like he stood there forever, waiting for the poisonous atmosphere to vent, the good atmosphere to cycle in, the pressure to equalize…

Finally the second door lifted, freeing a path to the pod's dark and flickering insides. Kaidan quickly stepped through, running a health scanner over Joker. The pilot had elevated heartbeat and adrenaline levels, but was otherwise fine. He turned to scan Shepard next, then realized with a shock the rest of the pod was empty.

He stiffened, his insides freezing.

He turned woodenly back to Joker and noticed for the first time the man wouldn't look at him. "Joker," he said slowly, heavily. "Where is Shepard?"

The pilot shook his head, turning his face away.

Kaidan stared at him, unable to process.

"I'm sorry," Joker rasped finally. "She was right there, but the fire… I couldn't get back out and she hit the launch button… oh God, Kaidan… she couldn't… I couldn't get to her!" The pilot yanked off his breather mask and hurled it across the pod, and the lieutenant saw the streaks of tears on the man's scruffy face.

Kaidan staggered backward, his body going numb.

No.

Out of habit, pure desperation, he glanced to the environmental read-out, but the screen was dark. He didn't really need it anyway; no more pods were coming. Joker's was the last, and it had now been accounted for.

No. Oh God no.

Hardsuits were not meant for explosions the size of an entire ship, or for long-term exposure to space. Even if she had somehow escaped the Normandy's blast radius, without immediate rescue Shepard didn't have a chance against the vacuum. The stranded pods had automatically sent a distress beacon to the nearest Alliance ship, but it would take several days for help to arrive.

Days Shepard didn't have.

Kaidan stumbled back out into the airlock and sagged against the wall. His armor felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. He couldn't breathe.

Joker was saying something behind him, and without thinking Kaidan reached over and closed the door. The words cut off abruptly. The lieutenant cycled through the airlock again, walking back out into the white-washed wasteland. He stood there next to the smoking pod, his chest heaving, his brain trying with all its might to deny the cold certainty growing in his gut.

Shepard….

There was nothing he could do for her now. He was stuck, helpless, on this godforsaken planet. Absolutely useless to her.

I never should have left her. Never.

He looked up into the empty sky as his whole world tore apart.