All the culminated years of struggle, bearing the yoke of knowing the truth, and working so hard to build the foundations for a life with Liara. And now she was reduced to making the hardest choice anyone had to make in all of existance. Peace at the cost of her own life? Everything depended on her dying? This wasn't fair!
So many people had told her, confided in her, that she had done the unthinkable, beaten the invincible and was doing the impossible. So why was it she was reduced to this? This seemingly hopeless chance to break the cycle forever. She wanted so desperately to be selfish, run or crawl back to Liara, run away together. Curl up on a remote beach and world and just forget the Reapers even existed.
But Dahara-kea Shepard could not do that. Her wants paled before duty and responsibility. Brushing strands of ebon hair from her violet eyes, she pushed herself forward, down the path toward the pillar of energy. But each step felt heavier, almost like her feet were in constant contact with the metal floor.
What exactly happened aboard the Crucible is not clear, but the massive structure in conjunction with the Citadel radiated a pulse. An explosion of energy that defied explaination, but still, the effect was easily recognized. Every Reaper, From the massive hulks to their victims-turned-cohorts, fell dead in the pulse's wake.
It also seemed to have another effect, this affecting the relays in the entire galaxy. Geth and Quarian scouts began reporting in that the relays appeared to be malfunctioning. Not outwardly damaged, but evidently suffering software and firmware errors. The geth confirmed this as the hardware of the relays were intact and showed no sign of duress. But energy fluctations seemed to hint at system errors, and with study the relays proved to be attempting to self correct these errors. Until they were mended however, traveling the network was impossible.
"What the hell do you mean there is no sign of her anywhere on the Citadel?"
"Admiral Hackett, please understand we're fighting low staff and the keepers to sift through the bodies and trying to get back into the Citadel's internal security network," one intimidated Alliance officer said in an audio only line to the now seething Admiral.
"Look, she couldn't have gone far from where you found Admiral Anderson," Hackett spat, trying very hard get his outrage under control again. His hands gripped the console as if he were about to rip it free from the bulkhead in front of him. He shook with rage, but not at the officer. Someone far more sinister.
"We have every species combing the Crucible and we're doing our best in the Presidium. We'll contact you when we have an update."
"Very well. Hackett out," the man said, closing the channel and sighing.
It was the assumption that Shepard succeeded in using the long planned superweapon, but then the savior of the galaxy disappearing was going to undo all of that sacrifice and blood. Commander Shepard had touched more lives accross the galaxy. She gained their trust, built alliances and friendships, and rallied every fighter with her example. A beacon of hope to trillions of lives. But if something happened to her, was spirited away for some maligned purpose, the galaxy would be plunged into a unilateral dark age.
Opening another channel, Hackett ordered a gag order for all Alliance personell. Say nothing about Shepard until she is found, dead or alive. He sighed and looked at the terminal. Several long moments passed. He already knew the Normandy was off on the hunt. There was no real way to stop Joker and EDI once they put their minds to something. But until the relays were sorted out, they could not search much beyond Sol.
"We've come too far to let it fall apart now. We put her on the pedastal, now the galaxy she saved is tied to her. Whatever gods watch over us now, keep her safe." The Admiral pushed away from the terminal, turning to head through the door to the bridge of his flagship.
"If she dies, I'll climb to heaven and kill you all. You can't have her yet."