#maya shepard

There was blood on her hands.

She couldn’t see it, but she could smell it, sharp, bitter, copper stink that dragged at the back of her throat. The ground rumbled underneath her as thresher maws rolled, hunting for any prey they had missed.

If she moved, they would find her.

There was no sound. It was silent. It pressed on her eardrums. She could still feel the maws underground, but up here there was nothing. There was no one to speak. No one with the life left to scream.

“Commander Shepard.” The smooth voice slipped through the silence like a cool breeze across her face. Maya couldn’t understand where it was coming from. All around her was emptiness. Where her squad should have been was churned dirt and blood and acid-wrecked bodies.

“Commander Shepard. You are currently on the Normandy SR2, travelling FTL to the Terminous System.”

The Normandy.

Her hands were still bloody, but now they were pressed flat on a countertop. The silence was replaced by a low, pervasive hum.

“You are standing in the galley kitchen on the second level.” A pause, an almost imperceptible hesitation. “You are safe, Commander Shepard.”

Maya breathed in deeply. No blood. No acid. Just the stale recycled air of a space ship. She breathed in again. The rumble under her feet was the Normandy’s engine.

Her hands were clean.

“EDI?” she asked. She winced. All the muscles in her body were clenched tightly. Maya didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, but it was long enough for her entire body to start to ache.

“Yes, Commander?”

“How did you… You know.”

“I noticed your increased stress levels and tension. I deduced from your vital signs that you were suffering from a dissociative episode. According to common medical practice, the best way to assist was to remind you where you really were.”

Maya slowly took her aching hands from the countertop and flexed them. She remembered now. She come in here to speak to Dr Chakwas, purely out of habit. She’d opened the door to an empty medbay. She’d turned to the kitchen and all she could see were the spaces were warm bodies should have been.

It had been so quiet. Just like Akuze. It was so quiet.

Maya shook herself.

“Thanks EDI,” she said. She shot the nearest camera a quick smile, then turned back to the kitchen. The itch was spreading over her, tingling under her skin. She had to talk, to move, to do.