Chapter 1 – Shepard

"Wake up."

Present day.

There was a jolt and he was awake. It had been that voice again. The Catalyst's voice. The mysterious AI inside the Citadel who had nearly made him give up on his fight. He was no more, Shepard had seen to that, and nothing but bad dreams had remained of him.

As Shepard sat up and looked out of the window, he seemed to relive this bizarre climax of the battle. He remembered the Catalyst's explanations word for word, yet he also remembered how little sense they had made back then – even today, for that matter.

It was just a nightmare, he whispered to himself, but he knew he would not be able to sleep for one more minute. A quick glance at his alarm clock, it was five, and he was relieved; he could have woken up much earlier.

Eventually, the catalyst had proposed three possibilities. Shepard had never regretted his decision to destroy the Reapers, although it had come at a cost. It had by no means been an easy decision to make, but after having emptied nearly one whole thermal clip worth of ammo into the catalyst's body, he had done it.

The little boy had, of course, been nothing but a projection, but it had been worth it – Shepard's heart still raced with fury whenever he thought back.

Whatever had happened after he had activated the Crucible, Shepard's memory failed him except for the explosion that would ultimately destroy the Citadel. But he had heard the stories, seen the videos, read the reports – a red light had spread all over the galaxy, vaporised Reapers and disintegrated the Mass Relays.

Shepard sighed as he went up to the window and drew the curtains. He found it easier to fall asleep when he could see the stars, but he still liked his privacy. It was one of the things that were hard to come by nowadays. Most people lived in standard colonisation buildings stacked on top of each other… At least, they were somewhat comfortable.

Rebuilding people's homes – or cleaning up the remains of ruined cities – was not a priority for Earth's Council, and a lot of people were increasingly frustrated because of that.

There were, of course, more important problems that needed solving. The loss of the Mass Relays had set back galactic travelling by centuries or millennia depending on the race you belonged to, and worse even, had cut people off from their homes and colonies.

It was lucky Shepard had rallied so many scientists to build the Crucible. In the end, all of them had been near Earth when the battle was won. The smartest heads and the most talented hands of the galaxy had figured out how to rebuild the Mass Relays, but the task took a lot more time than they had anticipated.

By now, most pieces of the puzzle were in their proper place. In two months a probe would be sent to Taetrus where the Turian had been the first to finish building their anchor. Of course, the Asari and the Krogan had protested – they wanted their own homeworlds connected to the Sol system first, however, the Turian (and the Quarian alongside them) had a point when they said: "The liveships keep us alive, but we are still starving."

It would be centuries before things would be normal again. But there was hope.

Hope. The word made Shepard smile. Yes, hope had been the one thing keeping him sane and enabling him to overcome the Catalyst. Here's to hoping for a better future! The present was bleak at best, but future generations had the chance to blossom anew in the galaxy.

Shepard checked his private terminal during breakfast, he tried to do so twice a day. Samantha Trayner had better things to do these days, after all. There were actually more than a few messages worth responding to, which did not happen all that often. But as the tests for the new Pluto Relay were approaching, a new kind of excitement had taken hold of the planet.

Liara had invited him over for lunch today. Tali and Garrus were looking forward to travelling to Palaven and Dr Chakwas had sent him a picture of a Serrice Ice Brandy bottle she had acquired the other day.

Don't forget, it's that time of the year soon. Looking forward to seeing you again.
Sincerely, Chakwas

She was working in a hospital in Italy and took care of soldiers still suffering from the war. Not every injury could be cured within weeks, and Chakwas was a dedicated woman. James Vega had been in that hospital for three years and she had fixed him.

He was glad his old crew had not fallen apart after the war. They were in separate places, sure, but they made it a point to keep close and met at least once a year. But then, how could you not if you had gone through all their adventures?

When he finished typing his last reply and had made sure that no message would be sent before 8 o'clock, he started to get dressed. His friends did not need to know about his nightmares. In fact, there was only one person in the galaxy with whom he shared them.

But Kaidan was not here. The Council had demanded his presence in London. A political thing, really, boring Spectre business, but Kaidan's word carried tremendous weight these days: He had become a respected authority when it came to human Biotics, he was the Commanding Officer of the Normandy and he had served under Commander Shepard. The Shepard. The Hero who had saved the galaxy.

He did not like the title very much, he did not feel like a hero, and no hero would do what he had done to the Batarian and the Geth. Hell, a hero would have walked to the conduit, he would not have shot Anderson and he would have brought the Illusive Man to justice instead of letting him shoot himself… sure, he had got the job done eventually, but he did not feel like a hero because of it. The galaxy begged to differ, of course.

"People don't care about the truth because they don't really need it. They need triumph, they need victory, now more than ever. You gave them these things. The details, well, they're for reports. But they don't make you any less of a hero. You are. You always have been to me."

Dammit, Kaidan, he always knew how to phrase things right.

Every morning, Shepard took a walk through the camp. It had changed a lot since they had started dropping the buildings around the Normandy's wreck years ago. The ship had been the centre of the community for nearly three years. The camp was crowded now.

Shepard had been almost at the conduit when Harbinger's beam had hit him. It had not been a direct hit, but it had been bad enough to knock him out for a few moments. In that time Joker had not only saved James's and Liara's lives with a breakneck manoeuver, but also about half a dozen other half-dead soldiers from the battlefield. Harbinger had attacked again… but the Normandy's armor and shield upgrades had saved them all. All Harbinger had achieved was catapulting the ship to the South American Jungle.

After the fog of war had cleared the Normandy had been transported back to London. She had become a symbol and the Council liked to keep it close. And because she had been Shepard's home for such a long time, he had moved in again and shared quarters with Kaidan. The damage to the ship had not been too bad, although she could not fly any longer.

As funds had become available the ship had been moved to Vancouver for repairing. He would get her back soon, there was no doubt that she was his ship. Well, technically, she was not anymore, but Kaidan would never throw him out.

A lot of people were already on their feet in the camp, waving and doing their jobs. This camp housed nearly four hundred, most of them human, and even though he had tried, Shepard did not know all of their names yet. He had categorised them into families, which made it easier to remember their backgrounds. How had they experienced the war? What kinds of lives did they have?

It did not matter very much now, but he still cared.

The remainder of the morning was spent calling military executives and politicians and giving an interview to the press. The longer these things took, the more Shepard longed for interstellar travel and for adventures in unknown worlds – not necessarily saving the world again, but still some kind of adventure.

Construction of the new Pluto Relay went smoothly, but the schedule for Operation Open Skies (clearing the atmosphere of the rubble from the battle) had to be corrected. Yet again. Regarding the Normandy Shepard would always call Joker, who was with her in Vancouver – she was as much his ship as Shepard's.

"As good as new", he said. "We're going to come home as soon as they've changed the light bulbs."

These were good news. The Council gave him ships whenever he had appointments, but none of them were his. She meant freedom to him and he sorely missed it.

When Shepard entered Liara's house a little while later he could already smell her cooking. He was really impressed considering the few amount of ingredients available. It was also always a treat to get away from the pastes that kept them well nourished for something real and less artificial. Sirta Foundations, of course, would always tell you they were producing three distinct flavours, but they all tasted the same regardless.

"John", Liara said as she carried the empty plates into the kitchen. "I have some news. I found my father."

„I'm glad, Liara", Shepard replied. In the years after the battle a lot of people had resurfaced one by one. A lot more than he ever would have imagined had survived. Sure, too many had died, but every single survivor filled him with pride. Each ond was a new triumph. "Where is she?

"On Thessia. She managed to escape from the Citadel before the Reapers attacked. She took about a dozen others with her. And she wasn't the only one. I'm going to find out their names and inform their families."

"You will make a lot of people happy."

"The power of knowledge lies in sharing it, John. And I want to share my relief."

"So, how is the Matriarch doing?"

„Very well. I think she enjoys being listened to as an authority, for once. They're rebuilding Thessia… It looks much better than Earth. Most of the debris has already been cleaned away and new homes are being built."

"You did show me the pictures." She was giving him updates on planets and colonies that still had means of communication. Her position as the Shadow Broker had always been useful, but now she was nothing short of an exclamation mark in Kaidan's crew.

"I wouldn't have believed it myself, either. It's amazing."

"Looking forward to return?"

"Of course. But, John, my place is with you. I will return to Thessia immediately once a connection has been established so I can see it with my own eyes, but I'm part of your team. And your work is far from done."

"Sometimes I think it is", Shepard admitted and looked away. "I'm not doing much these days."

He enjoyed the occasional day off as any other person would, but there was so little to do for him ever since he had been discharged from the Alliance.

"For the time being, yes, you're confined to Earth, but you belong in space. As soon as you're able you'll travel again. You're still a Spectre and an amazing one. You have proven yourself both as a soldier and as a diplomat."

"So you keep on saying."

"Kaidan agrees with me. And look at what you've done. You ended wars that had lasted centuries. No one else could have done that."

"I wasn't alone in all this. I've had a good crew."

"You still do. That's what I'm trying to tell you. We're going to make sure that everything you have achieved is going to last. And of course, there's still the occasional idiot that needs your boot up his ass."

Shepard grinned. Yes, the war was over and there would be no more serious fighting, but he might not be able to resist a crime syndicate every once in a while.

Author's notes: You may have noticed English is not my first language. So I'm always open to corrections :-)