#torfin

"The squad securing the barracks, Beta, they're going to be out numbered 40 to 1. Wouldn't it be better to seal the batarians in rather than fight them in close quarters?" she asked when Hackett finished.

"We could seal the main entrances and exits, but there are emergency exits we won't be able to access or block. We can't risk them getting to the armory before we have it secured."

"So they're cannon fodder – slowing the enemy down, buying Zulu more time to secure the armory."

"Not the term I'd use," Kyle said shortly, "but yes, I don't expected them to complete their mission."

"Who exactly is going to make up Beta?"

"That has yet to be determined." Kyle narrowed his eyes as he watched Shepard digest the information. "It's not ideal, but none of this is. We will lose many people, there's no getting around that."

"I understand, but condemning a squad before they even reach Torfan . . . Who will lead them?"

"That has yet to be determined."

"I'm sorry, but if the success of the mission rests on securing the armory, isn't securing the barracks just as important?"

"Every part of the mission is important-"

"If Beta is immediately overwhelmed, there goes the whole mission!"

"Shepard!"

The young Lieutenant bit her tongue at Anderson's reprimand.

Kyle sighed in frustration. "This is the best plan we have. If you have an alternative, I'm all ears."

Shepard ran a hand through her hair before speaking evenly. "While I appreciate the opportunity, it's clear I'm not vital to Alpha's success. I'd like to volunteer to lead Beta."

Silence met her announcement.

Rollins slowed the group and checked the next intersection before moving the group on. He had been one of the first to volunteer after her leadership had been announced. The years had not been kind to him once he finally lost the last bit of hope of seeing his kidnapped family again. Aged beyond his years, she was surprised to see his face light up with a genuine smile at the sight of her for the first time in seven years. The two of them had worked closely together on their plan of attack.

"Status report," Kyle said over the comm.

"Beta is thirty seconds from the barracks," she said softly.

"Delta is in position at the second warehouse."

"Zulu is in position at the armory."

"The base is about to go dark. Beta, double time it to the barracks!"

"Yes, sir." Ahead, Rollins picked up the pace. "Beta is in position," she said as her group hastily flanked either side of the entrance to the barracks.

The lights clicked off as the ventilation went silent. "All groups are clear to engage."

Switching his visor to infrared, Rollins led the charge through the door. Gunning down the batarians in the common area, Beta began splitting up into groups of two, moving toward the numerous bunk rooms.

"Shepard, can I ask you something?" Rollins asked the night before the raid.

"Shoot."

"Why are you really here?" he asked shrewdly. "You had your choice of squads. Why lead the cannon-fodder?"

Shepard looked up from the rifle she was modifying and wiped her hands on a greasy rag. "Why did any of us volunteer?" she said softly.

"Skip the flowery, philosophical bullshit."

"Fuck you, Rollins," Shepard said with a grin. "You want a straight answer: I want to kill as many goddamn batarians as I can. I'm so fucking sick of fighting slaver rings. Every mission makes me more and more angry and frustrated. I want to end this, even if it kills me."

"If it kills you? I know we have best damn squad going into the mission, but let's be honest: none of us are coming back from this."

"Is that why you're here then," she asked as she returned her attention to her rifle, "suicide by war in the fight to end it all?"

"I was ready to die years ago, Shepard. I've just been too lucky for my own damn good."

"Luck wasted on someone who never wanted it in the first place."

"Sounds about right."

Shrieks of pain and anger filled the barracks as the marines opened fire. For nearly fifteen seconds, savage satisfaction flooded Shepard before the batarians began turning the tables and fought back. Behind her, she heard one of her marines cry out in pain and fall to the ground. "Block the route to the armory and the exits! No one leaves here alive!"

She and her battle partner retreated back to the common area as more batarians broke through their line. "Keep the pressure on!" They moved swiftly, gunning down their prey before they could exit. The sensors in her hard suit wailed as her shield fell.

"Do you have a minute?"

Shepard gestured to the seat opposite her as she took another bite of her meal.

Anderson sat back and folded his arms across his chest. "How are the preparations going?"

"Good. We have a pretty good squad. I did have to turn away two yesterday though."

"Hmm. Why?"

She paused mid bite and set down her utensil. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not just recruiting everyone with a death wish. If I think they'll be a liability or need to be helped, I refer them to the shrink you keep pushing me to see."

"But you haven't talked to him."

"No."

"Why?" His tone was shifting to impatience.

"Because I'm busy planning the biggest assault in the Alliance's history since the First Contact War."

Anderson sighed heavily. "Damn it, Shepard! What the hell are you trying to accomplish?"

"My job. If you think I'm not fit for duty then-"

"You know damn well I would have had you medically removed from the mission if I could."

"Then what is the purpose of this conversation, Anderson?" Shepard felt her temper flare. "I'm trying to keep these men alive. If I don't lead them, who do you propose as my replacement? Some other nameless, faceless soldier with a death wish?"

Anderson leaned forward on his forearms toward Shepard. "Someone without your potential," he said softly in the empty mess hall. "Someone who has had their chance at a long career and life. This wasn't what Hackett wanted for you-"

"I'm painfully aware of that. But let's flip this around: how would I be able to live with myself knowing I was no more than a figurehead or a- a mascot for Alpha-"

"Bullshit-"

"Really? Because that's what it looked like from where I was sitting." A tense silence lingered. Anderson rubbed his face wearily as he shook his head. "You don't have to like it, but I would appreciate it if you could accept that what's done is done."

"I've never doubted your abilities, Shepard," he said quietly, "just you motives. Sometimes I feel like you forget there are still people who care about you."

She raised her eyes to meet his. "How could I forget when I always have you in the back of my mind reminding me to not to die?

"Fall back!" Shepard shouted over the gunfire. Outnumbered at least twenty-to-one, their mission priority had shifted – "Cover the emergency exits!" – stalling, to allow Zulu enough time to secure the armory before they were overrun. "Rollins, what's it look like on your end?!" Shepard asked as she darted out of cover back toward the bunk rooms.

"Shitty, Shepard. We're at half strength." A pause. "I don't suppose your end is any better."

"Just me and Ghale. Shit-" She ducked back into cover. "Fucking lucky all they have are sidearms and not grenades."

"Shit, there's a lot of movement over here. I think they're about to head your way."

"We see them." Shepard shared a look with Ghale. This is it. "It's been an honor severing with all of you," she said as she dosed herself with a stim.

"Not you, too," Shepard said tensely. The infirmary was bad enough without the doctor's silence.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dr. Chakwas said dryly.

"Not a single crack about not being unconscious and covered in blood?"

The older woman chuckled softly. "I always knew you were smarted than you let on."

"Alright, let's get this over with then."

Chakwas powered down her omni-tool and fixed her patient with a stern look. "What could I possibly say that the captain hasn't already?" She circled around Shepard like a disapproving instructor reprimanding a new recruit. "You're an adult, Shepard. You're free to make your own choices. Just don't be surprised when your friends try to talk you out of a questionable decision."

"I'm not surprised and I'm completely aware of how questionable my decision is," she objected.

"Good, then I have no intention of trying to convince you to change your mind."

"Seriously?"

"You've never done anything to make me question your judgment (for the most part), so I don't see why I should start now."

Shepard sighed and felt her body relax. "Thank you. Anderson doesn't seem to agree."

Chakwas laughed softly. "Of course not, but then he's always had a soft spot for you. He's mentored many young men and women, but you have always been special. I'd dare to say he sees you more as a daughter than a protege. You mustn't be too hard on him."

Shepard nodded silently.

"Here they come!" Two groups of batarians emerged from a bunk room running for the armory entrance. She and Ghale fired until their rifles and sidearms overheated, but the sheer numbers overwhelmed them. They stood from their cover and charged at them.

Using their rifles, they beat back the half-naked batarians as long as they could. Over the chaos, she heard Ghale cry out before falling. She felt the rifle yanked from her hands as she was thrown to the ground. Not yet! She rolled away from the mob and grabbed an abandoned sidearm and her combat knife.

Shooting a path into the group, Shepard charged again. Her blade found flesh in the dense mob as she moved with deadly grace from one victim to the next. Blood splatted the common room and made the floor slick. Three batarians raced by her to the armory.

"Status Report!"

Shepard didn't respond as she pulled an injured batarian in front of her as a shield. Her aim was efficient as she fired across the room, stopping the batarians before they could exit.

"Delta is encountering heavy resistance, but holding position!"

Her jaw clenched as she felt her armor begin to fail. She pushed her lifeless shield away and rolled out of the line of fire. Nearly a dozen batarians turned and headed for Rollins' position.

"Zulu is falling back! We're about to be flanked. Requesting assistance in the armory!"

"Rollins?!" she yelled hoarsely as she returned fire with the remaining batarians. The corridor ahead of her was littered with lifeless bodies and liters of crimson blood.

"Alpha is in route. Beta, status report!"

Shepard pushed forward as the last of the resistance fell. "Rollins!" she repeated as she raced down the hallway past the bunk rooms.

"Beta, report!"

At the far exit among the dead was Rollins, the side of his face drenched in blood and slumped against the wall. "Beta has secured the barracks," she reported bitterly.

"Head for the armory and meet up with Zulu!"

Goddamn it all to hell. Exhaustion and anger threaten to overtake Shepard as she knelt down next to Rollins. She placed a hand on his shoulder, not expecting the sharp gasp he made as he opened his eyes. "Shepard?"

"Holy fuck!" she whispered as she fumbled for a medi-gel and dosed him. "How the hell are you still alive?"

He groaned as he straightened up. "Too much goddamn luck." He took Shepard's offered hand and was pulled to his feet. "How the hell are you still alive?"

"I promised Anderson I'd try not to die," she said, steadying him. "Are you able to fight?"

"What choice do I have? What's the plan?"

"Help Zulu." Shepard led the way. "Watch your step."

It was slow going, picking their way over and around the fallen, something Shepard was grateful for – she could feel her body beginning to crash after her deadly fury. Just keep going.

"Alpha has arrived at the armory, watch your fire on the western side."

She and Rollins entered the room from the north, slowed by injuries and exhaustion. "Beta is coming from the north." Tall crates of ammunition and drugs made a maze out of the expansive room. Gunfire masked their approach as they came up behind the enemy.

"I have visual," she said softly to Rollins. Ahead, a group of batarians were raiding their stockpile looking for heavy weapons. "Ready?"

He nodded. Together they moved forward silently dispatched the men. Across the room an explosion shook the room. "Kyle, what's happening over there?"

"Bastards are arming turrets! Get up behind them before they start using the fucking Grizzlies too!"

"On it!" Another explosion shook the room as Shepard and Rollins quickly crept along the perimeter. Clouds of maroon swirled around the crates near the turrets. What the fuck is that? The soldiers took cover as they surveyed the scene. "Kyle, we have a visual on the turrets, but not the batarians!"

"Shit, take out the turrets. We're heading your way."

Shepard stood at parade rest with the other squad leaders as Kyle addressed the troops before everyone shipped out. His speech was met with a boisterous 'Oo-rah!' from nearly one hundred soldiers. As the room began to empty, Hackett approached the squad leaders.

"Kyle, Shepard, Min, a word." Shepard followed Kyle and the Zulu squad leader to the Admiral's office. "Every other part of the mission can go to hell," he said as the three stood before Hackett, "and still succeed if we are able to secure the armory." He poured an amber colored liquor into four tumblers before handing them out. "That being said, this mission rests almost entirely on your shoulders. Complete the mission or die trying," he said as a toast.

"Shit!" Shepard muttered as two turrets peppered the crate she was using for cover. A few meters away she saw Rollins mimic her actions as the guns swiveled in his direction. "Kyle, are there any engineers with you? We aren't making much progress."

"I have Osmond on it," he said as he took cover next to Shepard. "Just two of you left?"

"Yes, sir. Shit – Move!" They bolted to a new stack of crates as the turrets obliterated their cover. "Is there enough of Zulu left to defend the armory?"

"I've called for the first wave of reinforcements," he said as he leaned out to fire on the turrets. "Once they arrive we need to regroup and head for the safe room. Osmond, hurry up!"

"Working on it!" Shepard heard a few meters away. As she leaned out, a canister in front of her cover exploded, sending a face full of maroon dust and shrapnel in her direction. She pulled back coughing uncontrollably. Eyes watering and throat burning, she fell to her knees. Someone pulled her away from the dust cloud as a sharp buzzing overwhelmed her senses. Can't breathe, why can't I breathe?! A dark numbness began pulling her away. . . .

Air, glorious air filled her searing lungs, bringing her back to the present. She was face down on concrete floor of the armory. Nearby Kyle was yelling at his engineer again. The fuck just happened?

"Finally!" he shouted. Shepard coughed up a mouthful of blood before pushing herself to her hands and knees. "Shepard, fucking hell, do you know how many people we've lost already to that shit? Keep your goddamn eyes open!"

What the hell is he going on about? She stood on weak knees as the room began to spin. "What?"

"Red sand!" he said bitterly before he began coordinating with the reinforcements over the comm.

Time, she noticed, was moving inconsistently. As she leaned against a crate, she watched Kyle move in slow-motion as Rollins practically teleported to her side. "Shepard, shit, I think I might have a medi-gel left," he said before injecting it via her hard suit.

"Fuck," she whispered as her knees gave out. Rollins caught her and lowered her to the ground.

"Shepard, you still with us?" he said as he gave her shoulders a shake.

"Yeah," she muttered, "that shit is intense." Time began moving more consistently. "I think I'm okay."

"Regroup!" Kyle shouted. She and Rollins followed the rest of Alpha and Zulu to the eastern entrance where the reinforcements were waiting. "Min, take point. We're heading for the panic room. With any luck, we'll find the base commanders there. Shepard, how's your head? Are you good to go?"

"Yes, sir." Her voice sounded hoarse in her ears, but Kyle nodded. The squad set out. The emergency lighting bathed the corridors in patchy luminescence, shadows stretching endlessly along their path. A migraine throbbed behind Shepard's eyes as the biotic drug worked its way through her body.

"Contact!" Min shouted as they turned into a new corridor. A small squadron of batarians were dug in behind portable blockades standing between them and the panic room. Min and his Zulu squad took cover while the rest of the group retreated to give them more room to maneuver.

Shepard bolted up in her bunk, heart sprinting uncontrollably. Images flashed behind her eyes, the same images that had haunted her nearly every night since Elysium over a year ago. Shit, not again. Pulling her knees to her chest, she waited impatiently for her heart to slow. I just need one night, eight hours of sleep is all I ask.

The silent bunkroom seemed to close in on her as she calmed. Moving quietly, she slipped on her unlaced boots and grabbed her sweatshirt. Like a zombie, Shepard shuffled along a well-worn path to the port-side observation deck.

"Back again?"

The exhausted lieutenant sighed and bowed her head in defeat. "Are you camping out here waiting for me now?"

Anderson beckoned her forward. "No, I just had a feeling. With tomorrow being the big day . . ."

Shepard shuffled into the room and stood in front of the floor to ceiling window. "Yeah, I really didn't have much hope for sleeping." She leaned against the glass. "I can't imagine sleeping will be any easier after tomorrow."

"No, I imagine not," he said with a sad smile.

She turned to him and asked quietly, "You're not going to try to convince me to back down?"

"No," he said tiredly, "you've made it clear you intend on seeing this through to the end. I just hope . . ."

"Hope that we can fight about this again tomorrow?"

"Yes."

Shepard pushed off from the window and sat next to Anderson. Tiredness pulled at her body and mind as she drew her knees to her chest. "I'm sorry for all of this. I understand why you fought so hard to change my mind. If I could have found an alternative, I would have taken it."

"I know, and that's what makes this so hard." He leaned forward and stared at his hands. "I hate that this is how it has to be, but I am so damn proud of you for doing it."

Throat constricting, she closed her eyes and nodded. "Thank you," she whispered.

Anderson wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they sat in comfortable silence.

"Clear!" Min yelled as the shooting ended. The grouped merged and pressed forward down the narrow corridor to the fortified door leading to the panic room. Kyle's engineer, Osmond, began hacking the lock on the door.

"Just promise me you'll do everything you can to make it out of there alive," Anderson whispered as Shepard began to nod off.

"I promise."

"TURRET ON OUR SIX!" Rollins roared as he began to fire. Shepard turned and watch in horror as the rocket armed turret finish lowering from the ceiling.

Time stopped. Inhale. There was no suitable cover and the corridor was too long to escape before it fired. Exhale. Everyone around her began firing. Osmond would not be able to hack the door in time. The first rocket ignited. Inhale. Her rifle fell from her tingling hands as she pushed in front of the squad. Exhale. Time resumed.

"Holy shit!" Rollins shouted as the first rocket hit Shepard's biotic blast, sending it in the ground three meters in front of them. She cried out agony as she threw the next and the next, hands trembling as she desperately tried to focus through the pain. "Just fucking die already!" Rollins yelled at the turret as his rifle overheated. Keep-going-keep-going! Almost . . .

Shhhablam!

The explosion blinded her as Shepard fell to her knees. "Fuck, yes! Shepard, we're good! Shepard? Shit, Shepard!" Merciful darkness consumed her before she hit the floor.

. . .

. . . "She's not . . ."

. . . "Keep . . . "

"Shep- Shepard!" Blurry images quickly cleared as she sucked in large lungfuls of air. Rollins' face hovered over her – his lips moving, but comprehension eluding her. Darkness began pulling her beneath its inky surface again. Slap, slap, slap. Light pierced her eyes as she focused on Rollins. "Stay with us, Shepard! We can't be out of medi-gel!" he yelled to someone beyond her line of sight.

"I'm okay," she croaked out. Her senses were coming back as she slowly pushed herself to her knees. She spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

"Take it slow, Shep." Rollins was knelt beside her, further down Osmond continued working on the lock. The rest of the squad watched as she sat against the wall of the corridor.

"That was one hell of a show, Shepard." Kyle squatted in front of her. She felt his gloved hand on the side of her head and realized someone had removed her helmet. "There's nothing in your file about you being biotic."

"I'm not," she growled as head throbbed mercilessly. Anger flared uncontrollably, masking her exhaustion and pain. "Where's my fucking gear?"

Rollins handed over her helmet. "Shepard, you flat-lined. Take it easy."

"Fucking batarians," she muttered as she forced herself to her feet. "I'm fine." Her chest throbbed sharply in protest, nearly robbing her of breath.

"Shepard, you're in no-"

"Got it!" Osmond shouted.

"You remember Hackett's orders?" Shepard asked hoarsely as Kyle hesitated.

"I can't take you with if you won't be able to keep up."

"If I fall behind, then leave me behind," she barked as she took her rifle from Min. "Until then, I don't think you can afford to leave me here." She took her spot in the formation and waited.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered as he passed her and gave the order to move out.

Anger could only mask so much pain for so long. As the squad burst through the hacked door, Shepard felt every step, every stab of pain. She tasted blood as her nose began to bleed again. Just keep going.

"Fall back!" Min yelled as a grenade bounced toward them from the next room.

Shepard and Rollins rolled away from the blast radius and fired into the darkened room. Hours of training together with Beta made their movements instinctual. They rushed forward into the room and overwhelmed the resistance. "Clear!" Rollins yelled.

Min nodded to them as he led the group forward. Just keep going. You've survived worse, Shepard reminded herself as she and Rollins fell back into position. Room after room was swept, but only a handful of pirates were found. Kyle's frustration was palpable.

Finally, the squad found themselves in a small, empty hanger. "Goddamn it!" Kyle shouted. Judging from the size of the hanger, at least three small ships were missing. A sweep uncovered nothing – the bastards in charge had escaped the base.

As Zulu and Alpha formed a defensive perimeter, Shepard and Rollins sat against a wall and watched Kyle update Hackett on the mission.

"Kind of anticlimactic, don't you think?" Shepard said as a wave of migraine-induced nausea hit her.

"I don't fucking care anymore," he said as he took off his helmet.

"The base is secure," Kyle shouted. "A ship is on the way to pick us up. Excellent work, people."

"Oo-rah," she laughed almost hysterically as she turned to Rollins. "We did it."

Rollins chuckled as he examined his sidearm. "Yes, we did."

"How long do you think until they send us out to mop up the rest of the bastards?"

"I'm done," he said, the mirth falling from his face. "I've done what I came here to do. I'm done fighting."

Shepard pulled her helmet off and tried to focus on his face as her head continued to throb relentlessly. "Are you sure? We make one hell of a team."

He stared the pistol in his hand. "There's nothing left for me, Shepard. . . I never thanked you for saving me from myself while we were at the Villa."

"You never had to," she groaned – the pain was growing exponentially worse the longer they sat.

"I want to. If it wasn't for you I would have thrown everything away years ago. You brought me seven more years to protect the galaxy from what I couldn't protect my family from. Thank you."

Shepard nodded, but a warning blasted through the static of the pain. She turned and watched Rollins lift his pistol to his temple. "Rollins, NO!" She batted his hand away, but she was too late. A mist of blood hung in the air as she stared wide-eyed at her friend's lifeless body.

How long she sat there staring at him, she didn't know. The ship arrived and she was pulled to her feet. Kyle's face replaced Rollins' as he guided her to a seat and belted her in. The journey was spent staring at the body bag in the middle of the Kodiac. He's dead. . . He's dead. . . He's gone. . . .

Muscle memory guided her from the small ship once they docked in the hanger of the Alliance carrier. Faceless soldiers helped her out of her hard suit and to the elevator with the rest of the squad. Kyle led the group to the infirmary. He's never coming back.

Words were spoken, the squad was pulled in different directions by nurses and doctors. Everything washed over her as she was led by the arm to an examination table. The glow of an omni-tool bathed her in orange light. Unfamiliar faces swam in front of her, trying to register a response. He just – he. . .

"Where is she?" a voice cut through her trance. Dr. Chakwas took her face in her hands as she shined a bright light in her eyes. "Shepard, can you hear me?"

"He's dead," she said in a trembling voice. "He just- just-"

"I know, dear," she said as she took a syringe from someone. "Just try to relax."

"He's- he's . . ." gone. Darkness dragged her down into icy numbness.

Thump – thump – thump. Three hours later, a sand-filled bag was swinging from the force of her strikes. Thump – thump. Sweat ran into her eyes as she sucked in another quick breath. Thump – thump. "Can I help you?" she asked tensely to the man standing behind her. Thump – thump – thump.

"Ma'am, Dr. Chakwas sent me to remind you you're supposed to be on bed rest," the young orderly replied shortly.

Shepard ignored him long enough to hit the bag several more times. "Tell the esteemed doctor . . . she can put me . . . on medical leave if she wants." Her anger flared as she continued venting it physically. "I will be more than happy . . . to return to the . . . infirmary once I'm finished here . . . but not a moment before."

"Lieutenant Shepard, she gave me very clear orders that I was not to return without you."

"Then pull up a chair." Thump – thump – thump.

"Shepard! Stop being an ass and get back to the infirmary." She turned and to see Kyle standing next to the orderly. "You need to get cleared for the debriefing."

Fuck you and your goddamn debriefing. Shepard turned back to the punching bag and assaulted it with as much fury and strength as she could in three last strikes. Thump – thump – THUMP!

"Still not a biotic?" Kyle asked shortly as Shepard passed him on her way to the lift – her hands still glowing with electric blue smoke.

Letting out a slow breath, Shepard released a bit of her anger and extinguished her biotics. "That's a question for Dr. Chakwas, sir," she said as she wiped the blood from her nose.

"I'm sure," she heard him say as the door to the lift closed.

"Overall, I think we couldn't have asked for a better outcome," Hackett said to the surviving squad leaders. Shepard sat stone faced between Kyle and Min, trying earnestly fight back the urge to walk out of the debriefing in disgust. "Though we weren't able to capture the commanding officers, we've taken their stronghold and have the locations of dozens of smaller bases. With this information, we may finally be able to drive them out of this part of the galaxy for good."

She watched Hackett point out statistics about the resources seized in the raid, the number of pirates killed and captured, and the number of Alliance troops killed in action. It all washed over her without sinking in – a steady anger fueled her shocked body and mind, protecting her from feeling anything else.

"We will meet again tomorrow at nineteen-hundred hours to discuss the next phase of the mission. Until then, get some rack time, you've all earned it."

Shepard waited until most of the room had cleared before standing. "Shepard, Kyle. Could you both hang back a moment?" Anderson asked from his seat next to Hackett.

Make it quick, Anderson. She and Kyle sat back down and waited.

"As I understand, we lost a marine, Lieutenant John Rollins, toward the end of the mission. His cause of death was left missing in your report, Commander Kyle," Hackett said in a clipped voice.

"That is correct, sir," he said in just as clipped of a voice.

"Would either of you care to clarify his cause of death?" Anderson asked.

"A single gunshot to the head," Shepard said staring at her hands folded on the table in front of them, "self-inflicted." She could feel Kyle's stare boring a hole in her skull, but he said nothing.

"Self-inflicted?" Hackett said, "At what point did this happen?"

"After the base was secured." Shepard's voice was soft, but clear. "We were catching our breath one moment and the next he had his pistol to the side of his head."

Anderson shook his head sadly. "Officially he will be listed as KIA. There wasn't a next of kin listed-"

"He has none to my knowledge," Shepard supplied. Beside her, Kyle mumbled something under his breath. "I'm sorry, Commander, I didn't catch that," her voice dangerously calm and quiet.

Kyle hesitated for moment. "How could you have missed that?"

"Missed what? That he was severely depressed or that he intended on dying during the mission?"

"Either! When you took charge of Beta, you said you did it to give the squad a chance at surviving!"

"And if my information is still correct, three other members of my squad are in critical condition in the infirmary. Had I not taken charge, how many do you think would have survived? Or better yet, how many of Zulu would still be alive? If you're going to criticize my squad selection, go right ahead. I chose troops with the least to lose, troops that I vetted one-on-one for a week before allowing them onto the squad." Shepard took a breath and continued more calmly. "Lieutenant Rollins was an excellent soldier and loyal friend. He wrestled with his depression for over a decade before joining Beta. In all honesty, I don't think he believed he would survive the mission."

"And you just let him pull the trigger," Kyle said bitingly.

Shepard stood slowly from her chair, Kyle copying her. "Enough!" Hackett said angrily. "Sit back down both of you." He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "We will revisit the subject tomorrow. Both of you are to report to the infirmary before hitting the rack. Dismissed."

Thirteen hours after securing Torfan, Shepard was back in the port-side observation deck sitting with her arms wrapped around a knee pulled to her chest. Long forgotten memories of Mindoir had resurfaced, giving her relief from re-watching her friend's death. Summers spent in the fields with her father, the scent of freshly disturbed earth and sweat. She'd give just about anything to be there again. "You're late," Shepard said staring at Anderson's reflection in the glass.

"I assumed you would at least try to sleep." He handed her a cup of tea as he sat next to her.

"Thanks," she whispered as she took a drink before having a coughing fit. "Jesus, Anderson! Is that all whiskey?"

He chuckled as she took a smaller sip. "About half. I figured you'd need it after today."

"You are a saint, Anderson." They drank in silence until Shepard finished her drink. "He said I bought him seven more years to protect the galaxy from what he couldn't protect his family from. . . . He thanked me – just out of the blue. I was about to black out, but that- that made me turn and watch as he pulled the trigger." She leaned into Anderson's shoulder. "We joked about how long it would take before either of us caught a bullet, but it never occurred to me that he'd off himself if we survived."

"I'm sorry, Shepard," Anderson whispered.

"I think- . . . I think I'm ready to talk to your shrink," she said almost inaudibly. Content silence stretched until Shepard sat up and stretched. "Shit, I really need sleep."

"Then sleep," he said helping her to her feet. "I'll take care of the rest."

"Thank you," she whispered, pausing to savor the comforting weight of Anderson's hand on her shoulder. Feeling more exhausted than she had in ages, Shepard shuffled slowly back to the comfort of her bunk.

AN: By far, the most difficult chapter to write - I have at least seven different saved versions that I abandoned before I came up with this. The thing I changed the most was Kyle's attitude during the mission. I originally wrote him as an asshole who couldn't care less about the fact everyone around him was dying, but decided it wasn't remotely believable. I figured the whole Shepard saving the group with biotics would kind of explain why he goes AWOL and starts a biotic cult.

As for Rollins, I never intended on bring him back after he was dismissed from the N7 program until I started writing a battle buddy for this chapter. Why make a new character when I have one just begging to be fleshed out? His death shakes both Shepard and Kyle and, in my little canon, highlights two different ways of dealing with it: Shepard gets help and goes on to become a better leader while Kyle is tormented to the point that he can't continue the mission and leaves the Alliance.

One chapter left and I promise it will be a happy one. Thanks for reading!