Hey kids,
This is my first shot at Mass Effect fanfiction, so we'll see how it goes. Most of this fic will follow the game's storyline, but there will be some deviation. This is fanfiction, after all! I hope you all like it!
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Few people knew what it felt like to watch someone die.
First of all, time didn't slow down like it does in movies and books. Nothing stands still, not even for a moment. You have half a second to gather your wits, pull yourself together, and continue fighting for the cause that stole yet another's life. The crushing agony and realization of mortality will only serve to paralyze you, so you have to shove those thoughts aside unless you want to join the legion of lifeless corpses. There is no heroic music, no fanfare, no glory to be found in that bloody mess. There is only the thunderous pounding of your own heartbeat and the urgent need to stay alive.
Not many people knew what it was like to watch a close friend die, either.
Get the body, Shepard thought to herself. She dodged a bullet and ducked as a grenade soared over her head, trying to keep an eye out through the smoke and carnage for Ashley's characteristic white armor. Slain geth corpses lie everywhere, a figure like Ashley's should have been easy to spot. She had met Ashley's family once. She could recall the faces of her friends and family. She had dinner with them- a quirky lot they were, but they deserved to at least have the body of their loved one, right?
The thought escaped Shepard's mind faster than a man could drop dead. What could she possibly tell them? What could she say? "I'm sorry" wouldn't even come close to cutting it. "She died serving her country." No, that wouldn't do either. She died a dog's death, shot in the head because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She died because a split second decision had to be made, and in the end, someone had to die.
No, she couldn't tell them that. She dodged another array of bullets and ducked behind an overturned tank, taking the few precious seconds of cover to reload her weapon. The motions were so familiar to her, so basic, almost as natural as breathing. The action of loading, taking aim, and firing was nothing new. Taking life was nothing new.
Her hands shook as she remembered the first time she ever took a life. It was a Tuesday, a rather anticlimactic day for so much bloodshed. Everyone seemed so calm and serene, but not her. If anyone had told her that day she would rise to be an Alliance commander and a Spectre, the very picture of bravery, she would have laughed in their face. Sweat dripped into her eyes and her hands trembled so badly she knew she wouldn't be able to aim well. She wondered how long she would last in a real fight if she couldn't even aim. She remembered the way the seemingly calm landscape had looked when the enemy infantry crept over their hastily-constructed fortresses, permeating the haunting fog like a black disease. She remembered the way her heart plummeted into her chest when she finally came to terms with the fact that she would either have to kill another human, or be slaughtered by the enemy because of her moment of weakness.
"It's okay," they said, "it gets a little easier every time you do it."
They lied.
Lieutenant Kaidan's voice destroyed Shepard's reverie and brought her back to reality. "Commander, requesting permission to clear out."
Her dry throat caused her voice to crack just a little, the only sign of weakness she could afford to show. "Permission granted. Joker, bring the Normandy in."
"Roger that."
A massive airship dropped from the sky, pummeling the remaining enemy troops with superior firepower. Massive oak and palm trees strained against their roots as the gargantuan metal machine landed. Joker was right when he'd claimed to be the best pilot in the galaxy, when she'd first met the slightly abrasive pilot a month ago.
Was it really only a month? It seemed so much longer than that. So much had happened since then.
She started jogging towards her ship, wondering what the Council would say about the mission this time. Tactically, the mission was a success. It was a hard decision to make, but in the end, the correct choice was made. Ashley had known the risks when she joined the Alliance. She knew this could happen one day, she had been ready to fight for her life until the bitter end. She was aware of the risk of death. It was either her life or Kaidan's, and statistically Kaidan was the better soldier. Technically speaking, Shepard had made the right choice for her team.
However, this knowledge still didn't help dull the pain.
Shepard gazed out over the field, her eyes scanning the rotting corpses that were as numerous as the stars. Ashley, who had once been so full of life and vigor, was now nothing more than carpet for the dilapidated forest. Another casualty of war, another number to add to the ever growing list of fatalities. All because of a careless miscalculation, yet another soldier wouldn't return home ever again.
"I'm sorry, Ashley. I'm so, so sorry." The words, barely more than a whisper, were caught on the wind and absorbed by the desolate forest.
It was the last apology the world would ever hear from Commander Shepard.