Chapter Text
Shepard chucked another rock into the darkness and stopped to admire the way the thick dust that clouded the air swirled in the rock’s wake. Then she coughed, choking on the ashy residue. “Show-off,” she gasped. She sucked her breath through her teeth as she saw how her exertions had soaked the makeshift bandage around her waist. After she loosened the next rock, she angled it to roll down the pile of rubble with a less dramatic push.
She was making progress, but the more she uncovered, the more her suspicions seemed certain; she was stuck. Beneath the chunks of shattered cement, a massive slab trapped her right leg. You either claw your way out of the rock with your bare hands, or you die, the memory of Bakara said. Shepard groaned, but continued to roll away the rubble, piece by piece.
You learn to appreciate the light by living in the dark, Memory Bakara intoned. Shepard growled, forgetting her caution, and threw the next rock across the room. “Dammit, Bakara, I don’t need shamanic wisdom right now. Biotics would be great. Explosives would do.” Shepard twisted her left leg and, grabbing it with both hands, she pulled it from the loose rock. She let out a yell of triumph, promptly followed by a yelp of pain. After several panting, trembling breaths, Shepard turned her attention to her trapped leg. It hurt like hell, which she took to be a good sign. But she could move neither it nor the concrete slab.
Take it as a reminder, Commander. In the darkest hour—
“There is always a way out. Got it. Got it, got it,” she said. “Where’s that damn crystal?”
Shepard checked every pocket she could reach and then rolled her eyes. The crystal was almost certainly trapped with her leg. “You know I don’t believe in this mystical crap, Eve,” Shepard shouted into the darkness.
A simple crystal. But it became my chisel.
“Yeah, I know. I need the crystal to chisel myself out.” Shepard rubbed her forehead with a grimy hand and tried to take inventory of everything she had on her. There were three pockets on her right side, one at her thigh, one just below her knee, and one at her ankle tucked into her boot. If she had the crystal on her, it was probably in that last one. She’d kept it as a keepsake, not as something she’d need easily at hand.
She twisted her body so she could try to burrow alongside her leg and wiggle her arm down. Her fingers quickly caught the large pocket at her thigh, but found nothing. She shifted again and kept digging, slowly shifting smaller rocks to make space for her hand. With every handful of debris, Shepard stopped and held her breath, listening for the slightest sound of shifting rock.
She reached the second pocket and painstakingly unfastened each snap. Her questing fingers felt something hard and cool. “Ah!” she bit back the yell, but then cursed as she realized she’d found only a spare grenade. Well, she did ask for explosives. Probably lethal, but worth a try if nothing else worked. She slowly worked her hand back up to free the grenade but felt the rocks begin to slip. She yanked her hand out just as her little tunnel collapsed on itself.
“Shit,” said Shepard. She closed her eyes and breathed, trying to calm the panicked beating of her heart. I started digging the wrong way. Shepard didn’t bother to respond. She twisted and began again from the other side, a far more awkward approach. This time, she tried to shore up the slab, carefully slotting smaller rocks into gaps and twisting by small degrees to keep her weight balanced. Shepard herself was half under the slab by the time her fingers reached the top of her boot. She carefully tugged at the clasps, knowing that another collapse would likely trap her entirely. She poked one finger into the top of her boot, into the last pocket, and she touched the crystal. Shepard contained her elation to a whispered “Yes, yes,” and began the slow process of pulling herself out from under the slab.
She sat up and grinned at the crystal in triumph. And then realized that in all her careful inching and squirming, she’s managed to work her leg free.
“You are one tricky krogan, Bakara,” Shepard said.
Wisdom comes from pain.
“Enough!”
Quit bitching, Shepard. I got you out didn’t I?
Shepard rubbed her head, wondering just how far into delusion she’d managed to work herself. She took a deep breath and surveyed her new situation. She had no idea where she was. It didn’t look like the same part of the Citadel where she and Anderson had faced the Illusive Man, where the Catalyst— She shut down that thought. Anyway, she hadn’t really known where that was, either. Was she even on the Citadel? Where the hell was there cement on the Citadel?
She tried to open her omni-tool again but still got nothing but a quick flicker and a low buzz. Shepard grabbed the grenade and stashed it back in her pocket. She stood slowly, testing her weight first on her left and then on her right leg. She wasn’t going to go anywhere fast, but she could move. For a while.
Nothing to do but pick a direction. She began to walk. After a few steps, she found her pistol. She stooped to pick it up and checked the ammo. Empty. It still felt good to have its weight in her hand, though. As she straightened, she thought she saw a faint, flickering light. No, not flickering. Bobbing. Like a flashlight.
“Hey,” Shepard tried to yell but croaked instead. “Hey!” She started limping in the direction of light. She rounded a large pile of debris and came face-to-face with a floating white camerabot.
“Hi there, little guy.” The bot’s light brightened and its lens spun, trying to focus in the gloom and dust. “What are you doing down here?”
“Commander Shepard?” A sharp, precise female voice came through the bot’s speaker. “Oh my God, Shepard. What— Are you hurt?”
Shepard peered into the camera lens as if she could see back through. “Khalisah? Is that you?”
“Yes, Shepard. Are you hurt?”
“No. I mean, yeah. Kinda. I’m not bleeding out or anything, and I can move, but...I’m injured and have no idea where I am.”
“Okay. Follow the camerabot as long as you can. Don’t be a tough guy, Shepard. Stop when you need to. Stop before you need to. I’m coming, and it will be a lot easier to get you out of there if I don’t have to carry all of your weight.”
“Right. I can do that. Khalisah—” Shepard exhaled and placed her hand on the chirping little bot. “Thanks.”
“Hang on, Shepard. I’m coming.”
***
“C-Sec bunker. Bailey set it up after the first Cerberus attack. Most of us came down here, or to another like it, as soon as the Illusive Man and his goons showed up. Those who didn't—" Khalisah’s focus turned inward and she looked like she might vomit. Shepard reached out to take Khalisah’s hand. The woman looked up again, her voice calm, reporting. “You've seen the corpses. We have a few teams searching the tunnels for survivors. Food, medical supplies, communications devices. Making contact with someone off the Citadel is our first priority. Assuming there is anyone to communicate with.” Khalisah gave Shepard a long, considering look. “Is there anything you can tell us about that?”
“I can tell you what I know, but it won't answer your question.” Everyone stopped working. Some turned to look at Shepard. Others just closed their eyes. “The coordinated attack of the fleet ended with Admiral Anderson and me reaching the Citadel. Anderson...died, but we were able to open the arms of the Citadel so the fleet could attach the Crucible. That was the last point of communication I had with the fleet and with Admiral Hackett. Then I—” Shepard stopped and looked down at her hands. “I activated the Crucible to destroy the Reapers. The last thing I remember was the explosion that caused.
“I have no way of knowing if it worked,” she admitted. “I’m not sure how much we can trust in the Crucible’s design. The Catalyst was not what I expected.”
Shepard looked at each of the survivors silently taking in her words. A salarian was wringing his hands together, looking frantically between two of his companions. A hanar pulsed in a way Shepard had come to associate with excitement. A human man just stared blankly at her. Near the back of the room, Shepard caught sight of a familiar asari pushing her way forward. Aethyta met Shepard's gaze for a moment, then mouthed, "Liara?"
Shepard shook her head apologetically and whispered, "I don't know—."
“So all the Reapers could be dead?” a turian wearing a C-Sec uniform broke the silence as he handed Shepard a pack of medi-gel.
Shepard shrugged. “It’s what the big red button was supposed to do.”
“I think it’s true,” Commander Bailey pushed to the room, a tight grin on his face.
“Bailey!” Shepard answered his grin with her own and pushed herself away from the wall. She grabbed his outstretched hand with both of her own and then tried not to wince when he clapped her on the shoulder.
“Every husk, marauder, banshee, the lot of those abominations. Every single one that we’ve come across is dead. And we’ve had reports from civilians who saw them just go down after that explosion. You did it, Commander.”
“We did it,” she said. Then she asked, “Have you encountered any geth?”
Bailey shook his head. “No. But I’m not sure any were even on the Citadel. Why—?”
“Khalisah, I think I’ve got a link to Westerlund’s comm buoy!” A human woman with chin-length blonde hair handed the reporter a datapad. Then she shrieked and leapt at Shepard, crushing her in a hug.
“Great work, Felicia.” Khalisah opened her omni-tool and began to tap out a sequence of commands while Shepard tried to free herself from the stranger.
“Careful! Watch the broken...lots of things—” she trailed off and looked closely at the woman now bouncing on the balls of her feet. She couldn't quite place her, but there was something about that perfect bow shape of her upper lip.
“It’s me! Kelly! Wow, my disguise must be really good. I had to hide from Cerberus, you know. I’ve been working with the refugees here on the Citadel. I can’t believe we never ran into each other. I heard news stories about you every day.”
“Kelly?” Shepard’s voice cracked on the second syllable, but Kelly smiled and nodded. She reached out to touch a jagged scar on Kelly’s cheek and saw it was a clever prosthetic. Shepard pulled her into a tight embrace and blinked the moisture from her eyes.
“This is Khalisah bint Sinan al-Jilani with Westerlund News. I am on the Citadel with members of C-Sec and a large group of survivors. Is there anyone out there receiving this transmission?”
The comms responded with static. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, straining to hear a response. Khalisah began to repeat her message, but was interrupted.
“This is Operations Chief Okoro with the Fifth Fleet.” The room burst into applause and cheers. Kelly squeezed Shepard tighter and Bailey threw an arm around her shoulders. “We have received your message, Ms. al-Jilani. We are analyzing your position to determine the best time and location for evac. Admiral Hackett has ordered several rescue teams to search for other survivors. Please transmit any intel you have on the current conditions of the Citadel.”
“Thank you, Chief. Uploading data now. We’ll await instructions. Also, please inform Admiral Hackett that we’ve found Commander Shepard.” She smiled at her own cynicism as she cut the transmission “I thought it might hurry them up a bit.“