My second one-shot fiction. Many thanks to LivingLow, who made a great work by correcting my mistakes)
Enjoy and feel free to criticize!)
Emptiness.
Warm summer day. Sun shines, light breeze rustles the leaves of trees. Serene scene. The kind of which Shepard hasn't seen in last months...
Large crowd of people in dark clothes. People are waiting for hearse to arrive, discussing past events. Though they talk in whispering voices, together their voices make single dull roar. One can see many high-ranking Alliance officers and politicians here. Why are they here now? What the hell did they forget there?
Four people – one woman and three men – stand apart from the crowd. They do not speak. They do not even look at each other, instead they think about other things, more specifically about one man... Each of the four is an Alliance officer. But there are no ranks between them today – there is only one grief.
A long, dark vehicle arrives. Two privates take out long wooden coffin. It is empty.
Privates put the coffin on a heavy metal cart and take it away. The roar fell silent, crowd follows, so do the four officers. One of them is limping, but the female marine helps him to walk. The officers feel tensed; they know the real meaning to this funeral. It's nothing but political bullshit: cameras everywhere around make it abundantly clear. Still, the officers came, because they couldn't sit home and watch it on the vids. These four marines hated those people around them.
Nobody from Shepard's alien crew was allowed to come to the funeral. The Alliance only allowed human officers to come. That's what the four people hated mostly – Shepard would've liked to see his team gathered again, but it was forbidden... By some high-ranking soulless bastards.
The cart stopped. Crowd surrounded it. One of politicians, who wore gray gaudy suit, stepped forward and started his speech. He started from Shepard's past accomplishments on Eden Prime, then moved on his becoming a first human SpecTRe... His words might've been beautiful, had they not been hollow.
Then the politician said:
"...Though the last days of the first human SpecTRe were marred by his unstable mental state, we will always remember him as hero and..."
"What?" the limping man suddenly exclaimed. "Unstable?.. How dare you?"
"Lieutenant, please..." the gray old officer tried to stop him, but outraged pilot ignored him.
"He saved your ass, Udina! He saved this whole damned galaxy from the Reapers, and now, here at his funeral, you call him a madman?" the crowd became agitated. Cameras flew around quickly, broadcasting this conflict all over the galaxy.
"Admiral! Anders... Councilor! Keep your people in line!" yelled Udina.
"Screw you! He's right!" suddenly interrupted the female marine. She was obviously frustrated, her hands clenched into fists. She wanted to say something, but someone, whom Udina had addressed earlier as 'Councilor' stopped her by placing his hand on her shoulder.
"Williams... He's not worth it."
His words sobered the marine. She straightened up and gave Udina a cold deadly glare. The gimp lieutenant tried to say something, but received a strict glance from the admiral and calmed down. Then Udina continued his speech. After him there were others, but the four soldiers didn't listen to them – they retreated deeply in their memories.
An hour later, everything ended. The coffin was buried and a memorial was placed. Everyone except the four officers left. Now they were standing in front of memorial of greatest man they had ever known.
Admiral Hackett was the first to wake from thinking. He gestured to Councilor Anderson and quietly said to others:
"We'll wait for you near the exit. Take all time you need."
They left. The limping lieutenant came closer to the woman, who stared at Shepard's memorial.
"I'm sorry." he said. She flinched.
"What for?" her voice was colorless, quiet. It was unusual to see the always cheerful Chief so down. The lieutenant sighted.
"If... If I hadn't been so stubborn, if I had been faster... He could have made it in time. But he..."
"It's not your fault, Joker," she answered firmly. "You did everything you could to save the ship. You did what you to had to do. So did Shepard."
"Ashley..."
"Stop it, Joker. We... We must move on. It's what he would have wanted."
"Yeah... Sure."
Jeff stayed for a minute longer and then left as well. Only Ash stayed. She still stared at her commander's grave, unable to believe that all of this hadn't just been some kind of nightmare. Then she started whispering. It was poem – one she mentioned to him before Ilos... As she recalled those moments, when they had been together, tears started running down her cheeks.
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead...
Suddenly Ashley cut off.
"Why, Shepard? Why did you do this? Why the hell did you leave us? " then she recalled what she told him once: "There is a reason for everything that happens...
"But why now?" she stopped. Nobody was going to give her an answer. She turned her back on the grave – fake and empty as whole funeral was – and headed towards the exit, feeling as somewhere in her chest had appeared a void nobody but Shepard could fill... But he was dead and gone. With no chance to return...
"Commander Shepard has been recovered. The Lazarus Project will proceed as planned."
Somewhere on the station deeply in space work was in full swing. Scientists, doctors and humanity's most brilliant minds were trying to return one man from the dead. One man who could give people with empty souls a second chance...