ME: Lost

Anxiety

Gray artificial light filtered through the pristine hospital windows, signaling the Presidium's "night cycle". Nurses murmured to each other as they strolled the hallways, voices hushed. A faint cry echoed through the wall as the soldier next door wrenched herself from a dream. Kaidan fidgeted uncomfortably in bed, stretching his neck to relieve pressure. He shifted slightly and the stack of untouched datapads at his side toppled, burying his hand.

Three days had passed. Three days with unanswered questions and no company. Nurses bustled in and out all day, their faces tight with worry, and none had taken the time to converse longer than necessary. Dr. Michel visited once or twice. Both times merely a courtesy to inform him that she had indeed put in a request for Alliance records, but all personnel were swamped at the moment. Kaidan didn't mind the quiet though. Every moment became an opportunity to practice remembering, to stretch his brain.

He was a soldier with the Alliance.
He'd survived BAaT training at Jump Zero.
He'd enlisted in the Alliance nine years ago...no, thirteen years ago.
His biotic abilities gave him immense power in the field but left him with crippling migraines.
His mom and dad lived in Vancouver. She was short, his dad was tall; she was loud, his dad was quiet.
He had seven cousins, most of whom lived in Massachusetts...
Did Massachusetts even still exist?

The snippets of information he'd managed to pry from the frazzled nurses implied a massive attack on earth. Refugees overflowed from the Citadel's docks and claimed every available bed in the hospital. His first response upon learning this, three days ago, had been terror and concern for family. Overwhelming fear that he'd never remember the last time he saw them, the last thing he wrote. But compartmentalizing emotions under stress was one of his most impressive accomplishments. Recognizing the futility of such thoughts, he simply acknowledged the concern and nudged his brain forward to the next task.

The Alliance records had arrived last night, shuffled in by a harried private who looked mildly annoyed to be stuck with the task of a courier. The boy unloaded the cart into a sloppy pile, dashed off a half-hearted salute, and scurried from the room, leaving Kaidan with a mix of amusement and annoyance. He would have appreciated a little more care. He wasn't cleared to leave his bed without help, and the boxes were aggravatingly out of reach.

Still, he remembered the stress of his first posting. The shabby patch on your sleeve affording anyone above you the right to command your attention. Kaidan chuckled quietly as he remembered he wasn't in the condition to command anyone's attention; a broken man in a hospital bed was not the most intimidating sight.

The young nurse who brought his breakfast helped him open the boxes, and now datapads covered every available surface of the room.

His last four years must have been busy.

A tablet wedged between his right thigh and wrist seemed the easiest to reach, and he depressed the triangular button on the side to activate the screen. NORMANDY SR1 blinked into view below an impressive white ship.

Twenty pages of the report flew by as Kaidan marveled over the ship design; at least the words he could read. These plans were obviously well guarded, mostly likely a prototype, and black redaction markings covered about a third of the report.

Serving on this ship must have been a great honor. What had they been doing to warrant such a design?

The next datapad bore the title NORMANDY CREW and a catalog of names. Scrolling down, he scanned for anyone familiar before returning to the top and tapping the first name on the list - Commander Jane Shepard.

A picture flashed onto the screen and Kaidan caught his breath. The woman in the customary head-and-shoulders shot wore a basic blue dress uniform, gold edging and collar creased to perfection. Dark red hair framed her face, wispy edges barely brushing an angular jaw. A light sprinkle of freckles softened her expression, giving the false impression of youth, but most arresting were her sparkling green eyes. Even the stoic expression required for a military portrait couldn't cover the fiendish glint of amusement. Familiarity poured through him. He couldn't remember her, but he was certain he'd known her well.

The rest of the file yielded nothing beyond basic facts. A stark listing of her N7 training and accomplishments, a brief link to her mother's Alliance record, a detailed report of her survival at the Akuze colony; but a single sentence at the bottom of the page revealed more of the woman's competence than the the entire list.

"First human assigned to SPECIAL TACTICS AND RECONNAISSANCE."

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Jae tapped her foot in impatience as the elevator inched along, lamenting her refusal of the offered shuttle. Walking through the presidium's peaceful scenery should have calmed her nerves, but the closer she got to Huerta Memorial the more anxious she became. The surprising absence of additional information from Dr. Michel in the week it took them to reach the Citadel worried her, but she was clinging to the supremely human adage - 'no news is good news'.

They should have had so much time. Time to rebuild trust, apologize for harsh words, explain actions. At the time, Kaidan's strained civility on Mars only strengthened her resolve to salvage their relationship. Then, determination turned to desperation as she faced mortality in an entirely new way.

Standing by his bed, willing him to continue breathing just a little longer. Begging him to live. Slowly suffocating in space had been less terrifying.
But now he was awake. She repeated that to herself as she counted the seconds till the doors opened.
He's not dead...he's not dead.

The hospital was packed. Refugees huddled in groups, some lying on pallets in the absence of beds. Wounded soldiers limped about, exercising damaged ligaments. Overworked nurses snapped orders, anxiety showing through thinly veiled courtesy.

The receptionist glanced up as she approached the desk, noted the Alliance rank patch visible on her jacket, and waved her to the front of the line. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Lieu...uh, Major Alenko. He was brought in several weeks ago with a head injury. Dr. Michel should be listed as his acting physician."
"Dr. Michel is in a meeting with Councilor Udina right now, but it looks like Major Alenko is in room B47. Down the hall on your right...next in line please!"

The room was simple to find, though maneuvering through overcrowded hallways proved time consuming. Shepard paused, heart pounding. Their conversation today could be critical. So many things that needed to be said, needed to be worded just right. She couldn't - no, she WOULDN'T lose him.

A quiet voice answered her hesitant knock, and she shoved the door open.