In which Kail frantically copies something from her paper writing pad while her laptop is working.

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Destroy the Reapers, that was the plan from the start. Of course that plan had never come with a price tag, lives lost in the fighting sure but not the intentional sacrifice of people. She couldn’t consider it, there was always a better way. Wasn’t there? There were other choices, she did have other choices. Though some part of her did question the validity of what this construct was telling her. It had no reason to be truthful. But she was too tired to question it, she was too tired to do anything but blindly press on.

Even if she was tired, the ‘synthesis’ option he described seemed off to her. Self determination was what they fought for, not accepting the answers of their enemies. It would be a change, a big one, incomprehensibly so, that she would be forcing on everyone. She was sure Javik would have words about that prospect.

So that just left ‘control.’

Ashira frowned at the idea, knowing it was what the Illusive Man pushed so hard for; it made bile rise in her throat. But that could just as easibly be the blood flooding her stomach.

Perhaps control of the Reapers could be the middle ground?

She started moving towards the console, most of her mind wandering from what she was about to do.

What would Samara make of this? Some corner of her mind suggest the Justicar would consider the sacrifice of EDI and the Geth a necessary one, a price that had to be paid. Was she taking the easy, expedient path? Was this the wrong choice? Part of her was scared what would be thought of her, if her friends, her allies, knew what she was about to do…

How many of them would stop her?

She focused on what she was doing on to see she was at the console. She dropped her gun and tried to straighten up, squaring her shoulders one last time. It was time to do what needed to be done and she didn’t know if she was ready or bricking it. Probably a bit of both.

Reaching out she grasped the first sparking handle. A jolt went through her and she briefly closed her eyes. If that was but a taste of what was about to happen to her; this was going to hurt.

Ashira opened her eyes and wrapped her fingers around the second handle.

Agony rippled through her body, causing her to seize and arch away from the console. Energy swirled wildly around her, whipping at both her and the surrounding machinery. It was tearing at her skin, she could feel it, her body starting to splinter apart from the stress. She was coming apart at every cybernetic seam.

An unexpectedly strong pulse of energy pushed her back, forcing her to let go and fall to one knee. She tried to reach out but couldn’t get back on her feet. Her body was so weak from the fighting, from her unjuries; it wanted to give up. But the crucible was still powering up, at this rate it would simply kill her and nothing would change. She needed to stand up and reconnect.

“Ashira.”

Her head slowly lifted and as much as she should’ve questioned it, her fragmenting sense of self made her blindly accept it.

“Samara…”

The Justicar stood before her, almost translucent in appearance like a ghost. She looked serene as usual, but she gaver the struggling spectre a light smile. Bowing her head, she closed her eyes and lifted her open arms towards the human. “Come to me, Ashira.”

It came to her, suddenly she could stand even if it was difficult to do so. She forced her failing body to it’s feet and grasped the handles again in the grip of a dead woman. Her chin now rest on Samara’s shoulder and she felt Samara wrap her arms around her waist. 

Lips brushed against her fraying ear like cold vapour and just as she felt herself slipping away, Samara’s voice spoke softly; “let us embrace eternity together, Ash.”