The first thing Milenya was aware of was the pain. The stabbing ache on one side of her ribs, the feel of dull throbbing all over. She couldn't keep the world from heaving to and fro.<br/><br/>The second thing she was aware of was that she was being moved. Half-carried, half-dragged. Whomever it was, dull fuzzy shape that looked like a Quarian suit, wasn't in any hurry. So it probably wasn't Desmond dragging her off.<br/><br/>She couldn't really hear anything. Muffled noises, indistinct voices. Her helmet was still on, she assumed, since she could see the scarred impacts across the clear parts of the visor. But it was dead. No lights. No input from the cameras. And no audio amplification either.<br/><br/>Everything hurt. Presumably she was alive. Hopefully the others were too. She managed to turn her head from where she was sitting, and a colorful fuzzy blur appeared in her vision. She blinked a few times and her vision seemed to clear some more. It was Ashana, looking utterly drained.<br/><br/>Goddess, it felt like even her crest was aching. She slowly looked around, head lolling.<br/><br/>There were Kala, and Sorv, and Firas, all looking remarkably alive as they struggled to get the environment suit on Shira'Va.<br/><br/>From the sound of it, they were talking. Conversing. But right now, she felt mostly like just sitting there until the pain went away, however long that would take.<br/><br/>She closed her eyes and sniffled, helpless to hold back the tears.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>