Ok, so I'm back from a... long hiatus. I apologize for that, but it's been a hectic two years. I went back to school, and am also working part time to pay for it. Being back in school has honed my writing skills a bit though and hopefully I can put it into practice of churning out more content, and hopefully quicker. I went back and did some alterations to chapters 1 and 2, mostly spelling and continuity errors here and there, so a re-read isn't necessary since no story edits were made. And yes, in this story Brexit never happened, or was reversed, it is a time of megacities and major political blocs, so London is in the EU here. Enjoy chapter 3. Mass Effect and canonical characters are the property of EA Games and BioWare.
/Elin

To the casual observer, the early-middle-age woman sitting slumped on a supply crate in the field hospital just outside of Kraków in the eastern reaches of the European Union could have been anyone. She wore dirty fleet fatigues and her strawberry blonde hair with streaks of silver, normally neatly packed into a regulation bun now hung loosely at the nape of her neck in a messy ponytail. She was tall , very tall even, for a woman, a fact that normally gave her an air of commanding presence without having to do much else. Something she'd passed on to her only child, but her stature did little for her slumped over as she was. Only the way the passing soldiers seemed to defer to her as they passed, respectful bows and a muttered "Admiral" belied her as a person of any rank or power. She'd been here once before, decades ago on leave with Eric, before they got married. He'd never been to Europe and wanted her to, as he put it, 'Show him her continent'. She'd chuckled and pointed out that she herself had never been outside Scandinavia before her brief stay in the Rammstein spaceport when she were to ship out for navy indoc after basic training.

They'd done the tour, north to south, east to west. Eric had loved every minute of it. Even insisted they get married in the old church in her familys village up in the north of Sweden. He didn't share her faith, of course, few people did these days, but he'd been willing to do it for her. It hadn't happened that way, of course. Like most people in the service they'd ended up tying the knot in a briefing room on Arcturus Station right before shipping out to retake Shanxi from the turians. Instead of the jovial priest who had both baptized and confirmed her all those years ago, the man who'd wed her parents and buried her grandparents, the officiant had been a bored looking clerk. No pomp, no air of sacral wonder, and it had taken all of 5 minutes. Even so, she wouldn't have had it any other way, not then and not now. 'He's gone.' she reminded herself somberly 'Everyone's gone... Mamma, Pappa, Eric... Sarah.'

There was something horrible in being the survivor, she thought. Dying was easy, it's living that's hard. After her daughters death, the first time around, she'd been devestated. Empty. For all that she believed in the afterlife, that they'd all see eachother again, there was an emptiness there that just couldn't be filled. Sarah wasn't just a loved one, she was a piece of herself. A piece of her own soul. When she'd come back, against all logic reason, she'd dared to believe that the age of miracles hadn't yet passed. And perhaps it hadn't, they'd won hadn't they? At a terrible cost, yes, but they were all still here. There would be a tomorrow, broken and shattered as it may be.

But she'd lost her, again. After their pods came down over the eastern reach she'd warched the feeds from orbit. The Citdael was broken, but still there, but the damage had been massive. She didn't think Sarah would be able to cheat death this time. A person only got so many chances after all. She was proud, her girl had done well, better than anyone could have expected. She'd saved them, all of them, but she'd lost herself in the process. 'It's who you raised her to be' a nasty voice gnawed at her mind 'you put her there. Service and sacrifice, isn't that right?'. She shook the feeling of despair from her bones, put it back down, far down where she could deal with it later. She needed to be Admiral Hannah Shepard, not the grieving mother. Not yet.

"Admiral?" a young NCO said tentativley, and she looked up.

"At ease, Staff Sergeant." she replied, schooling her features into professionally deatched interest.

"Ma'am, there's a communications request for you, Admiral Hackett." A feeling of dread settled in her stomach. It must have shown, as the young man looked incredibly uncomfortable. Or perhaps he was just nervous having to relay top level communications in person.

"Not sure what a skipper with no ship can do for the man, but by all means lead the way." she said, attempting to keep her voice steady.

The field hospital lacked a QEC, of course, but with all units, human and otherwise, in system, good old sublight communications worked just fine, and the image of Stephen Hackett was waiting for her on a standard haptic screen in the hospitals administration tent.

"Stephen" she said curtly, nerves to fraught to stand on protocol. Then again the other admiral was a personal friend, hell he'd been a witness at her wedding, and if he took any offence he didn't show it.

"Hannah..." he replied, she cut him off before he could continue.

"You've found her then?" she asked stiffly, there couldn't be much else important enough for a persoanl call at a time like this.

"...we... have, yes. She's alive, Hannah. Your girl's alive."

The rush of emotion was overwhelming and she let out something between a surpriesed laugh and a sob.

"Alive, but critically injured." he went on "She's being treated at St. Albans hospital in London, we'll transfer her to the Nightingale once she reaches orbit though. There isn't much in the way of actual medical supplies down here, let alone functioning surgical suites."

"I..." Hannah couldn't think, let alone form words, silent tears streaked down her cheeks as she stood motionless on the spot.

"Hannah..." Hackett went on "consider yourself on extended leave as of this moment. Go be with your daughter."
"Yes... I'll make my way as soon as I can. But sir, my crew..." she trailed off

"Your XO's still combat effective?" he asked

"Well, yes-"

"Then hand over the reins, admiral. They can manage, but she might not." he said with finality.

"I- Yes sir! Thank you." as the connection broke. She wiped her eyes as a grin grew on her lips.

"What do you mean 'no shuttles available'?" Hannah Shepard ground out at the frightened looking comms tech at the command post by the landing pads half an hour later.

"Well- just that, ma'am. All shuttles are currently engaged in search and rescue ops or cargo runs. See for yourself, pad's empty." she stammered.

"Yeah I do have eyes, corporal, but what you don't seem to get is that I need to get to London, now."

"I'm sorry ma'am but-" the roar of an engine overhead cut her off and Hannah glanced up at the descending Kodiak.

"How about that one?" she asked with a raised brow.

"I...y-yes ma'am" the corporal said, tapping her headset "Parliament-Echo-Two, throttle down, disembark cargo and stand by for personell transfer flight." Hannah could hear the reply crackling through the ear pieces "Roger that." She turned to Hannah "Should be ready and fueled in about 15, ma'am. Sorry,."

Hannah sighed "No, I'm sory corporal. You're doing your job it's... a stressful situation."

The woman smiled nervously "That it is, ma'am. Good luck."

The flight itself was utterly uneventful and alltogether too long, Hannah mused as she sat strapped into the crash harnes. It was also extremely uncomfortable, the things were designed for troops in battle armour, not old ladies in glorified pyjamas. Sill she felt relieved to finally be underway. When they were 5 minutes out from the temporary London HQ she broke regs and stood up to look through the outside camera feeds. It was a disaster of epic, even biblical proportions. The city, the largest in the European union but several million souls, lay in utter ruin. But there was hope, there were signs of human life down there. People milling about, and even land vehicles rolling through streets that had clearly been at least somewhat cleared of rubble.

"Quite a sight, huh ma'am?" the crew chief said from his own seat.

"Sure is, didn't think it got this bad down here for some reason. I haven't been back in years before the battle." she replied somberly.

"Oh this ain't nothin'" he chuckled "Shoulda seen it mid battle. We ran straifin' runs for Hammer, if there's such a thing as a hell, that shit probably came close."

"Kinda glad I didn't, son." she replied with a smirk

"Aye, fair point, ma'am."

"Had a daughter down there, in the final push. Kinda hard seeing the grinder she had to go through."

"No shit" he replied, perking up "she make it out?" he cringed "Sorry ma'am, that's a dumbfuck question right there, ain't so good with the social graces, da always said it'd get me either shot or court martialed one day."

Hannah couldn't help but laugh, there was something comfortable and even comforting with a fellow soldier just shooting the shit with her for once "No need to stand on formalities, kid. Though if you were my kid I'd probably say the same thing. 'sides, I'm off duty, can't expect you to be all deferential when I'm not even wearing my stripes. To answer your question yes, she made it out. Going to see her now , as a matter of fact."

"Damn" he said "Wish we had you in boot. Might not have spent all that time on the querter deck"

"Or more time on the quarter deck" she shot back grinning, making the kid laugh again.

As she exited the shuttle in London, the crew chief lent out of the Kodiak and called her, she turned around with a raised brow.

"Tell Shepard thanks from me, will ya ma'am? Saved all our asses, she did!" he grinned, gave her a tumbs up and slid the hatch closed.

Hannah blinked owlishly at the ascending Kodiak. 'He'd known all along?' laughing at the antics, she shook her head and headed towards the command post to catch herself a ride.

To say that the hospital had 'survived' the battle was, Hannah decided as the trasnport rolled up outside the main entrance, a bit of an exaggeration. It was still recognizeable as a building, certainly, but a badly damaged one. 'No wonder they want to transfer her' she mused 'I bet there's not a single piece of sterilized equipment in this place'. The windows were all blown out, taped off with transparent film and a large hole in the wall to the right told of what could have only been a direct missile impact. One of the wings further down had collapsed completely. Still, the place was buzzing and medical staff, military personell and even scattered civilians were milling about and going in an out of the doors that had, on closer inspection, also been blown out completely and propped open with crates. The inside was equally hectic, with wounded on gurneys along the walls and doctors and nurses rushing to and fro. The smell of antiseptic mingled with the acrid smell of smoke damage. But despite everything the place had an air of optimism to it, people were stressed, but not fearful and approached the front desk and caught the attention of the attending nurse.

"Excuse me?" she said "I'm looking for my daughter, Lieutenant Commander Shepard, Sarah M.?"

The nurses eyes widened for a moment before she tapped her haptic keypad "Certainly ma'am" she replied "Second floor, isolation ward. I'm not sure you can see her yet though, but there's a waiting room just outside."

Hannah nodded gratefully and set out for the stairs, as the elevatorswere a no go, judging by the security tape in front of the doors that seemed to open up into the empty shafts. As she approached the isolation ward on level 2, she came upon a security station, armed marines standing guard. She produced her military ID, grateful that she'd managed the feat of having it on her when the Orizobawent down in flames, and was ushered inside. Having entered the waiting room beyond, she found it empty aside from a single occupant, admiral Stephen Hackett.

"Stephen" she cried, and rushed forward to hug her friend.

"If my staff saw this they'd never believe me" he chucled in his deep baritone.

"Your staff probably think you're not human" she jested. Growing serious, she took a step back "How is she? Can I see her?"

He sighed "Not just yet. She's stable but critical, is what they're telling me. Not sure when you'll be able to go inside though. This place is a festering hole for infection right now and they want to minimize exposure."

She nodded and chewed her lower lip, a nervous tick she'd never been able to shake. "That makes sense I suppose..."

"She'll be ok, Hannah" Hackett said reassuringly "She literally came back from the dead once already."

Hannah nodded again. She didn't want to divulge that this was exactly why she was worried. She knew that Stephen would only write off her idea that people only got so many chances, so many miracles, as superstitious. "Yeah, you're right" she said instead. "Do you think we could get them to let a priest in there though? If I can find one, I mean?"

"A priest?" he said, brows furrowing "Whatever for?"

"Last rites" Hannah said, voice falling to almost a whisper "Just... just in case, you know."

His expression softened. He didn't get it, he never had. But he respected her, and therefore he respected this part of her too. "We can ask" he said gently. "Every bit helps, right?"

"Yeah" she replied with a wet smile "every bit helps."

As it turned out finding a priest in the middle of a warzone wasn't that hard, there was one in the hospital in fact. Getting Mother Lisa access to her daughter, however, was a different matter entirely. But after some rank pulling and assurances that she'd subject herself to any decon procedure the doctors deemed appropriate, she was granted accompanied access to Sarah. When the young woman came back 15 minutes later, she was a bit shaken but assured Hannah that her daughter was, in fact, alive. "She's in bad shape" she told her "but stable. I was able to perform the rite. Had to sterilize the oil with heat first and let it cool but... She's in good hands, Admiral." she finished, giving Hannah a comforting squeeze on her arm.

"Thank you, mother" Hannah said, letting out a relieved breath. "Just- thank you".

The priest smiled and nodded and then excused herself. She sat with Stephen in the waiting room for hours after that, taking uneasy naps now and then. An orderly brought them rations and water at some point in the night, but her resolve to not leave her daughters side, even if they were separated by walls, never waivered. On the third day she was woken up from another uneasy sleep by commosion outside the doors.

"You need to let us the hell through, Sergeant"an agitated voice, female, came through the closed doors.

"I'm sorry Commander but we have strict orders to-"

"I'll handle it" Stephen said, getting up from his seat and walking briskly to the doors and pushing them open. "It's allright, Sergeant, let them through." he said into the opening. And through the doors came the oddest group of people Hannah had ever seen, an Alliance Lieutenant Commander leading a troop of Alliance personell, a Turian, an Asari and a Quarian. Hannah recognized the Quarian girl instantly, she'd seen enough pictures over the past few years after all. 'Well, well' she mused, smiling 'it's about time'.