Prologue
Red stared out into the vast expanse of space, watching stars and asteroids spin under and around him. They had passed some planets too, and he wondered about the lives of the people there. Human, alien, robotic, what did it matter? They were living their lives, and he was about to lose his. Oh, the Alliance hadn't executed anyone in forever, that was true enough. But they were going to take the sky away from him. Cages and handcuffs. He wished he could make himself pissed about it, but he just couldn't dredge up the emotion anymore. He had been so drained when they escaped from the Collector facility. He had managed to save most of the crew, true enough. But he had almost lost his team in the firefight that had taken place just moments later. All with the voice of Harbringer yelling around them as he took over Collector after Collector. They hadn't been out of the fight for more than an hour before he had to deal with the Illusive Man, and then dropping the bomb on his crew... He blamed Jack. Not blamed her really, but she had been the one with the most over the top reaction. She'd punched him, screamed at him, called him a worthless fuck, and then disappeared into the ducts, not even coming to her usual spot in Engineering.
Garrus and Tali were used to his stupid choices. They had offered their concerns, and then let him go on about his merry little way. Grunt was just pissed that he hadn't killed more. Legion was trying to leave, wanting to report back to the others. The good Doctor was too busy treating everyone to even make a suggestion. Miranda had disappeared into her cabin, and Jacob was in the medical bay. And ever since, Red had just been numb. Jack's rage had been his, but he didn't show his own. He never showed his emotions. He just willed them into the void, making it difficult for anyone to get a read on him. He had always been like that, ever since the first day he had faced down that big fuck from the Seventh Circle Saints. They couldn't get a read on him, and he had beat the fuck out of him when they least expected him to attack. And the Saints had never fucked with the Reds again, and that was just fine with him.
The ability to suppress his emotions had helped him in basic as well. Drill Instructors couldn't get a handle on him. Some men and women broke, angry or driven to anxiety and depression over the lack of food and lack of sleep. Red just did his push ups, did what they told him to do, all with the same expression on his face, without anything but dead green eyes. There were people in the Alliance today that said he had never smiled, not once. He let them think that. His N7 training hadn't been much to smile at or get angry over. It was just hard. He devoted himself to it, and the N7 instructors didn't try to break you. If the training didn't, then you were good enough.
He hadn't even broken on Akuze. No emotion as he watched the friends and people around him die. The only thing that he had felt that day and every day since was the recoil of his sniper rifle against his shoulder. They had given him medals for that. They had given him medals for everything, and they were nothing but scrap metal to him. He didn't know where half of them were before the destruction of the Normandy and his death. They were probably so much space ash by now. And good riddance to them. Miranda had thought his attitude and his emotionless qualities had been a byproduct of his being rebuilt by Cerberus. When Garrus had finally joined them again, she had found out just how long he had been like this. She was not impressed.
The closest he had come to showing emotion since he was a child was Horizon. Ashley... his fist smashed against the window, and he looked at it in surprise. EDI or Joker might be watching him, and he was sure one of them would mark that little crack in his armor. Joker was always watching. If he didn't hate Miranda and Cerberus so much, he'd swear he was watching him to help build Miss Lawson's little psychological profile on him. But back to Ashley... he had seen her, and his heart had stopped. Blood hot from fighting, his rifle barrel warm and steaming slightly in the cool air, and then she had been there. And then found out he was working for Cerberus. And she had given him this look... It made him feel like shit. Had made him feel like shit the whole time he had been on this stupid mission. Garrus and Tali had tried to talk to him about it, Joker had mentioned it in passing, but Red had shut up, sealed tight as a drum the moment her name was mentioned.
The only person he had talked to about it was Thane. He felt a kinship with the Drell. Both were hard to show emotions, both had a past they sometimes felt they needed to atone for. The only difference was the religiousness of the Drell and the fact he had a child. He also knew what it was like to feel like something had went wrong with a loved one, Thane with his son and Red with Ashley. But usually, they just sat and cleaned firearms, the companionable silence all that either of them needed. He felt cleaner after sitting with Thane, like he had been absolved of things a little bit, but now that wouldn't be happening. He had made sure all non-Alliance personnel that wanted to leave had been offloaded. All of his team was gone at this point. Only Joker remained, and a few of the Cerberus crew. But not very many. The ship was a ghost town.
With short and economical movements, Red sat down and began to field strip and clean his rifle. It hadn't been shot in days, and he had cleaned it moments after leaving the base, but it helped calm him down. Helped keep his emotions at bay. He was going to miss Zaeed. They had joked a bit about how much they looked alike. Red's rebuild scars made him look almost like the old mercs younger twin. Mordin had offered to test DNA, but Red had said no. He liked the merc enough as a father figure, and an orphan could dream. He didn't need that dream destroyed by science. They had done much the same as Red and Thane had done, though it involved more drinking and more setting up empty cans in the bay and shooting at them. And trying to arm wrestle Grunt. Or in the cybernetic Shepards case, headbutting the young Krogan. Metal skulls had to come in handy for something.
Red finally looked down. He had torn his rifle halfway apart, and that was it. He just couldn't stop thinking about his crew, about the friends and comrades he was now going to miss and wonder about while he rotted in some brig on Earth. He rose to his feet, rummaging in a cabinet in his room for a bottle of harsh liquor. Pouring a shot into a special glass, one that looked like a heat sink, he raised it to the spinning blackness of space, giving out a thought to all those he had shared his most famous missions with. For those that he had lost, the crew of the first Normandy, Alenko, all the ones he missed. Then he downed it, taking a deep breath before pouring his next shot. Might as well get drunk. They would be back to Earth soon. Home. But no, it wasn't home. Home was where the heart was. And that was out here, in space. Not on Earth. Here, with the black void and the bright stars, the action of fighting Batarian and Human pirates and of helping out people of all races. But instead, he was going to be forever grounded on Earth. A fitting punishment.
Interview No. 2345
Date:04/15/2186CE
Time: 16:30 Earth Time
Location: Classified
Interviewer[s] Col. Marcus Thatch and Sgt. Jonathon Morgan
Interviewee: Red Shepard, former Alliance Captain and Council Specter
[As with all interviews, speaker will be denoted by initials. Voice bio-metric software will provide emotions when applicable.]
MT: Good morning Mr. Shepard, sleep well?
RS: [Says nothing, continues to stare at the wall.]
MT: I'm going to take that as a yes, you slept so well that you feel too pleasant to talk. What do you think John?
JM: Maybe the circuits Cerberus used are fried. Or the robots batteries died.
RS: I don't survive on batteries fuck face.
[There's a sound of a chair being pushed back from a table. Video shows it to be SGT. Morgan, but he sits down after a hushed word from the Colonel. There's almost a shadow of a smile on Shepard's face, but it's almost impossible to tell for sure on the video.]
MT: Now come on Red, you know that was uncalled for.
RS: That's what you get for bringing a baby in here to do my interrogation. Or what did you call it? An interview?
JM: Are you going to cooperate or not?
RS: Red Shepard. Former serial number is JS7-762X54R. Rank is former Specter, currently civilian.
MT: Now, if we could ask the first question-
RS: Red Shepard. Former serial number is JS7-762X54R. Rank is former Specter, currently civilian.
MT: Are you seriously going to do this?
RS: Red Shepard. Former serial number is JS7-762X54R. Rank is former Specter, currently civilian.
JM: Listen here asshole-
RS: Red Shepard. Former serial number is JS7-762X54R. Rank is former Specter, currently civilian.
[There's an audible sigh as the video shows the Colonel shutting a case file, standing up from the table.]
MT: If that's all you're going to say Red, we'll be back tomorrow.
RS: You remember Drill Instructor Jameson, Marcus?
MT: [The Colonel sits back down, but doesn't open the file back up.] ...Yes. Second week of basic training. Used to always argue with that Gunny.
RS: What did he tell us about 'interviews'?
MT: 'Treat everything like an interrogation, and never give up anything, even to your own people'. Sound about right?
[There's a definite shadow of a smile on Shepard's face at this point in the video. The Colonel sighs, and Sgt. Morgan looks almost confused at this point. Red Shepard taps his fingers on the table, and the Colonel removes a nico-stick from his chest pocket, letting Shepard take it, putting it between his lips as the Colonel lights it. Taking a deep drag off of it, he winks at Sergeant Morgan before speaking again.]
RS: Red Shepard. Former serial number is JS7-762X54R. Rank is former Specter, currently civilian.
MT: Red, we're not going to execute you at dawn like the Hegemony does to it's soldiers and citizens. We aren't going to sell you into slavery either. We just want information on Cerberus and what happened with the so called 'Reaper' menace you were apparently combating on the edges of space. We've got most of our information from the logs of the Normandy and what your pilot has told us. We just need you to confirm some of the things that he has said.
RS: I'm going to tell you one thing about the Reapers, and one thing only. And then after I say that, you can just go ahead and take me back to my cell, and that's where you can let me rot for all I care. I've been busting ass around this universe to continue to protect the people whose lives I swore to save. And no one was willing to believe me, hell, no one would have offered me a spare heat sink if I was ammo dry in shit creek with half the Batarian pirate companies bearing down my neck. The Reapers are coming. And there's nothing you can do to stop that. They're going to kill everything there is to kill, and do whatever it takes to destroy everything your Gods and government have built. And your only chance is uniting the entire galaxy against them, and by that I mean everyone. You better figure out a way to get a Batarian medic to splint up a Turian leg and a way for a Krogan merc to lay down his life for a Salarian. And then, and only maybe, you might just save a percentage of the galaxy. And that's all I'm fucking saying. Take me back to my cell.
[Chairs scrape as the interviewers stand, the Colonel pressing the button on the intercom.]
MT: Prisoner is requesting to go back to his cell, mark interview as over. Save video and audio files to HQ accounts.
JM: You know, for a Specter, you aren't so hot.
[The handcuffed prisoner smiles, taking the nico-stick out from between his teeth and blowing it in the general direction of the Sergeant and Colonel.]
RS: Take these cuffs off and we'll settle up anytime Bright Eyes. If not, go back to day care and get your mommy to change your diaper. I've seen thing that your ass wouldn't believe, and that's a fact.
[Video is cut off at this point, Interview #2345 marked 'Complete'. File saved to /HQ-files=Shepard?Interview.]