The Reaper lay dead before them, the beam glowing radiantly in the grizzly dark just behind it. Shepard was breathing hard, leaning against the missile launcher. They were so close, so damn close. Just one more push and they would defeat their enemy once and for all. There was shouting from all around her as the last of Hammer moved in to occupy the final stretch. Her comm was pinging with news, red alerts appearing across her sentry interface. Harbinger was descending and the fleets couldn't stop him. If they were going to launch their strike, they had to move. Shepard rose, holstering the machine pistol to her side and pulling her assault rifle free. She doubled-checked the ammo clip, taking a step over a dissolving Cannibal in the street. She could feel their eyes on her, the searching gaze of her team that would willingly follow her to hell and back. Shepard turned to them, knowing there were only a few minutes left before Harbinger arrived and they'd have to break for the beam. Anderson was waiting for her in the nearby transport. With a racing heart, Shepard took a deep breath and addressed her squad.
"Commander?" Ashley regarded, gripping her sniper rifle tight.
"It's time," were the only words she could manage, sensing the weight they carried.
"We've got your back, Shepard. To the end," Garrus nodded, his sharp gaze unmistakable in the gloom.
Her face wanted to pull into a frown, her body so very tired and aching for a rest. She couldn't though. Her team needed to see that she was the strong leader they all needed. So, she smiled for what it was worth; smiled past all the years of strain and denial etched into her skin. She saluted the both of them, gesturing them towards Anderson who had Admiral Hackett on the comm. The Crucible was on the move and there was no more time. No more time to say goodbye or reminisce or feel the embrace of those she loved. A small, very dark voice whispered inside her that it wasn't too late to turn and run. Extinction and assimilation haunted those words and she steeled herself against their pull. She would see this finished or die trying. Shepard watched the retreating forms of her friends as they boarded the transport and an ache set in within her chest. If there was one thing she regretted, it was dragging them into the jaws of death with her. They had bonds cemented together by blind faith and a will to live, all of it depending on her. An idea struck Shepard right then, making what little taste she had in her mouth turn sour. It wasn't too late for them. They wouldn't like what she had to say, but they would listen like they always had…wouldn't they?
She folded the plan away, every step already falling into place. Garrus was the only one who had boarded the transport, his eyes locked on the frozen woman before him. The image was sobering, watching the galaxy's only hope standing so alone in the burning lands of her people. Her usually crisp red armor was scorched black, glistening with the gore of her enemies. The yellow lights dotting her attire glowed like fireflies in the dark, her very form so fragile in one blink and strong in the next. She looked to him suddenly, hair fluttering in the rotten breeze. Her eyes betrayed her as they gazed between one another, every heartbeat like a thousand apologies. The turian felt his mandibles flare in anger; anger towards the Reapers and the future they had stolen from him and Shepard. The brave woman that he had madly fallen for moved like a viscous liquid to the rumble of the transport. Every nerve twitched and urged him to capture Shepard in his arms and promise it would be alright; anything to bring the light back to her. No one should be damned to such a future as her, but he did nothing as their shoulders brushed. He looked to the ground in a shameful fury, swallowing his words.
The transport growled around them, the cabin shaking as every soldier sat perched and ready to move. Anderson and Shepard were speaking, cobbling together one last offensive even though everyone knew it would be a desperate run for the beam to the Citadel. Garrus sat only seats away, musing over his sniper rifle in his grasp. He pulled and pinched at it, trying to will a solution from its half-empty cartridge. Ashley was silent besides Shepard, listening to everything her commanding officers had to say. She seemed so calm, but he could see the storm residing in Williams just by the simple way she carried her rifle. Tight fingers around the butt of the gun, left index finger curling and uncurling from the trigger. Something caught his attention as the cabin grew silent. It was the steady beeps of fingers trailing across hardlight buttons of an omnitool. Shepard's was lit up across her right forearm, her pale face bathed in an orange pool. She was relaying something, but his inquiry was hushed with a scathing look. Someone was responding from the other end as a red blip across her HUD. There was a distinct signature to the blip, his own data analyzer on his visor running a trace. One result was immediately brought up and it filled him with a fearful curiosity. Why would she be hailing the Normandy? He sat back with a long sigh, chalking up the anomaly to last goodbyes for the crew. He couldn't shake the suspicion though, years in C-Sec telling him it meant more.
She rose, standing with the fluorescents reflecting of the grime they all wore. She looked each and every one of them in the eye, reminding them of the honor she felt to have them at her side. They each rose, saluting in turn. Out of all the things Ashley could have done, she remained on saluting her commander with a tired smirk. Her eyes were bright with the prospect of battle. Win or lose, live or die, she felt ready for the Reaper War to be ended. Garrus forced a laugh, bumping Williams on the shoulder as he joked that her last name must be cursed for war. Shepard watched the two, her own grin joining them for a last good memory. They grew solemn as the report came in over the comms. The beam was in range and it was time to make the push. They stood in line, ready to spring from the door when the transport when the movement around them bucked to a halt. Shepard righted herself as they unloaded from the half-destroyed vehicle. Harbinger and his flock had arrived. They stood aft of the beam like demons soaked in hellfire as Shepard stared on. One look told her it was her company, the open swath of land, the beam, and the reapers. It was time to spring her plan into action. They only had a few seconds; maybe a minute before the reapers had their targets chosen from the dark. A hurricane of hot air and smoke roared above them as the Normandy came to a barreling halt far behind them. It stalled in the air for only seconds, alarms blaring as enemy sensors only began to detect their presence. Several figures were running towards the company, weapons raised high.
"Shepard!" Liara called, her biotics ablaze around her. "We got your message about the EVAC."
"This is loco, even for us Commander. Harbinger is right there!" James shouted, watching the Reapers loom beyond the beam.
"I know, but you have to get them out of here," Shepard returned, already signaling to Anderson as he motioned for the injured members of Hammer to make for the Normandy.
Shepard ran with the troops, rallying them to move faster. Her shouts were nearly drowned out by the bellow of the Normandy's engines. They fled in like an endless stream, filling into the shuttle bay. Tali stood at the ready, omnitool waving like a flag to Liara and James as they stood with their commander. They ushered the last of the injured on board, Shepard pausing to catch her breath as she stared back to the Reapers. They lurked in the light, almost as if they were baiting her to try for the beam. It was bait she would have to test, but only when she had ensured some made it out of the grave. It was almost insulting how they just let her evacuate the dying men of Hammer, so sure of themselves and their plan to order the chaos that they let the humans scramble and prolong fate. She stood just beneath the Normandy, like a beacon for the lost as she shouted for the troops to move deep inside. There was just a few more that had to leave before she would be satisfied and they were running up the hill as she spoke. Ashley was the first one to face her, Garrus only inches behind. The Lt. Commander looked perplexed, trying to divine why her commander was retreating when the realization washed over her as a red tide. She nearly stepped back in the direction of Anderson until an arm caught hers and a soft sigh of "Ash." They looked at one another for a long moment, arms locked together as sisters of battle. Ashley understood and with a shuddering breath, she gave Shepard the tightest hug she could muster before nodding a farewell. She joined the waiting Liara and James, Garrus being the only one left.
"I'm not leaving, Commander," he growled in warning, taking a step back in emphasis.
"I'm not asking, Vakarian," Shepard replied with an edge to her voice. "Everyone is leaving and that is an order."
"I'm not a part of the Alliance; you can't order me to just abandon you!"
"Garrus, there's no time for this! Everything is at stake here and it's my job to fix this. I'm done dragging you into my mess. Now get on the damn ship!"
"You never dragged me anywhere, Shepard. I followed you to the literal ends of the galaxy and it doesn't stop here."
"Please…" she practically begged, reaching out to him. Their hands met and he pulled her into that tight embrace he regretted not doing before. "Just get on the ship, Garrus. For me."
"I am doing this for you. We'll go down swinging, just the two of us," he said in a hoarse whisper, mandibles clicking together in anxiety. He pressed his forehead to her sweat-soaked brow, daring her to continue this line of thought.
Shepard lifted her face to him, eyes creased in pain as the tears stung. She had not cried for so long and not in front of anyone. It felt freeing as she leaned into his tender embrace, their armor scraping and sticking in the awkward hold. Protocols be damned as she reached up and traced his facepaint one last time, drinking in the faded blue over heavy scars. The expression he bore hinted that he had her convinced, when it was clearly the other way around. She leaned in, pressing bleeding flesh to torn scale in one chaste kiss to say goodbye. He pulled away, almost confused as Shepard held his arms tightly. Not enough to hurt, but just enough to hold. His voice was heavy with question as she peered behind her to the waiting team. They took their cue, rushing the pair in a mad dance. It was Ashley and Liara that swept up his arms in a vice grip, pulling hard to the Normandy. James had him by the back of the armor before he realized what Shepard had lured him into. She stepped aside from the group, lowering her face to the side in shame. He struggled as if his very life depended on it, his cries of anger beating into her soul like a drum. The turian fought like krogan-enraged against the tug of his allies around him, kicking out with all his strength. He had nearly torn free, but they kept him in line. Fury pricked at his vision, blinding him as he cursed his very friends. He did not miss the look of guilt so plain on Liara's face, but he didn't care. He tore for Shepard one last time, calling her name again and again.
"Don't do this! Let me go…Shepard!" he screamed, voice breaking from the strain. "Shepard…Sarah, please!"
Every call of her name was a bullet she willingly took as she stood there. The shriek of the engines was Shepard's only cue to race for the beam as the Normandy departed for the stars. She met the rest of Hammer at the lip of the no-man's land, every last trooper surging forward to change the fate a millennia in the making. Aboard the fleeing Normandy, the shuttle bay was in an uproar as Garrus threw his companions off. He struggled to calm himself in the rage pumping through him, seeing everything under a current of red. James appeared as if he was gearing up to take the furious turian down when Ashley stepped in, a swift hand coming between them to ward off a fight. Garrus felt himself shaking in his armor, seething with a fury he had never felt before. It felt like his very heart had been carved out of his chest, set aflame and sewn back in. He put distance between him and the three, breathing rapidly as he gripped the handrailing running the length of the shuttle bay. He sensed Liara near his side, trying to sooth his rage some way, but he loathed her presence at the moment. He hated them all and he hated himself the most. He brought a heavy fist down on the metal, denting what a normal human couldn't. His voice was raw to his ears as he spoke, addressing anyone who would answer.
"How could you do that? Shepard needed us; needed me, and we abandoned her to face the Reapers."
"It's what she wanted," Liara countered, angry and hurt at his assumptions.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Believe this," Ashley bridled, showing a brief message from Shepard on her omnitool. "She sent it to all of us. Consider it a last will and testament for now. All she wanted was for us to live to see the future she was giving her life for."
"That wasn't your call to make, Williams!"
"Who gives a damn at this point, Garrus? It's never been our call to make from the beginning. It's been hers and that's what she decided. Do you think you're the only one hurting here?"
"She's right," Liara intervened, speaking past the anguish in her voice. "I want to go back as badly as you do, but I won't dare disrespect her last wishes. Out of all the bad that came from the Reapers, she wants to leave something good behind and apparently that's us…"
Garrus listened for as long as he could, swallowing every tick of anger he had as a deep pain began to coil in his gut. It nearly took the breath from him as he released the railing, storming from the shuttle bay despite multiple voices calling his name. He made a line for the starboard observation deck, wanting so desperately to see the world rushing him by. They had already cleared Earth's atmosphere, the planet below a blur of red and black. It burned silently amongst the glittering stars outside of Sol, the last remnant of humanity's existence in the galaxy. He pressed a shaking hand to the glass, praying to the Spirits for Shepard to succeed in preventing the apocalypse of a galaxy. He stayed like that until his muscles became stiff, the view of a burning earth cycling between exploding cruisers and the very few Reapers that had broken apart in the onslaught of the fleets. His stomach twisted as he thought of nothing but her face and voice telling him things would be better; that they would win. He had always wanted to believe her, but there had been doubt from the beginning when he watched Palaven burn from Menae. He hid it well, constantly reminding her that he was there; ready to dive headfirst into a Reaper maw if it meant a future together. He pulled away from the window at last, resting his eyes as he sank into the soft leather padding of the observatory couches. Garrus wanted nothing more than to make it all go away when a horrible red light suddenly filled his vision and knocked him to the floor.
Dead silence hit him like a weight, crushing his eardrums as he sat up slowly. All he could see were the stars from the window, no cabin lights from starboard observation to get in the way. He was alert and on his feet in a matter of seconds, rushing for the door to the deck. Its red light showed a power failure and it took every ounce of strength he had to even wedge himself out the door. He clicked on his visor, headlamp illuminating the dark hall before him. It bounced off the steep walls of the Crew Deck as he explored with apprehension. He found several of the crewmen sprawled on the deck, just dusting themselves off when he felt the thrum of the engines spring back to life. Emergency power flicked the lights back on, allowing him access to the elevator and back to the CIC. He didn't care who was in his way as he made a dead sprint for the cockpit, arriving just as a panicking Joker was hunched over a silent EDI. The sensor array was beeping like mad at the pilot's chair and Garrus had to pry Joker from the darkened AI on the floor. He reassured the frantic pilot that he would check on EDI only if they figured out what had happened to the Normandy. Just from snap observation, they were floating dead in space and he feared what could happen as a consequence. Joker scrambled to get the Normandy's systems under control as Garrus propped up EDI's dormant body. It appeared to be sparking at its cerebral base, a surge of energy crossing in an arch where her HUD would usually appear. There were a few terrifying seconds when Garrus was sure she wasn't coming back online when the AI's body jolted, almost as if she was surging back from death itself.
"J-jeff-joker…my systems-reset-hard-reset," she sputtered, the lights in the cockpit flickering.
"EDI, what's going on? What happened?"
"Reaper c-c-code. IFF scrubbed from-from-from systems. Malfunction in AI core. Working at half capacity, server d-d-d-ama-ged."
"Are you going to be okay?" Joker looked to her, keeping put at Garrus' stern order.
"Repairs will take considerable time…Jeff," EDI struggled, her body twitching in spastic motions. "The reaper code…is gone. Completely wiped and created considerable blowback."
"You're not gonna…?"
"No, Jeff…must make repairs, need to shut down. I will remain in the suit, but I must shut off higher processes. Have to…relinquish higher functions to manual operation."
"Don't worry, EDI. I can handle it from here," Joker said, not bothering to mask the relief in his voice as he reached over to touch her shoulder. "I've flown this baby since before you were installed."
Garrus stood apart from the two, watching in stunned silence. He hadn't known, but he had suspected something like this would flourish between the pilot and his AI. A more pressing thought began to make itself at home in his thoughts at that brief interval and it all began with "Reaper." Finding his wit, he left the cockpit at a slow pace, wary of what the news was from beyond the stars. The Normandy's screw were scrambling, half the system's suffering under a heavy data barrage as manual override was given to many of them. He felt blind, stumbling towards the hub of the activity. Specialist Traynor was shouting to other people as her computer erupted news briefs flying in from the fleets. Many of the ships were dead in the water and just as confused as the Normandy. He tried to ask questions, but was interrupted at every turn by another crewmen rushing past. Traynor put an end to that, fighting for his attention as she pushed the stunned Turian towards the War room. They were receiving a Priority One hail from Admiral Hackett and someone in the higher chain of command had to answer. He almost disputed it because the next in command would have been Williams based off rank. His mouth clamped shut as a silent wish to know the reality planted itself firmly in his mind. He marched with a faster pace, bypassing the empty ID scanner as he went directly for the quantum entanglement communicator. The hail light was blinking furiously in the deep blue glow of the room and it took one finger to the panel to realize what position he had put himself in.
"Admiral, this is Garrus Vakarian," he reported, taking a steadying breath and stood a little straighter in respect to the aged man before him.
"Vakarian? I see…" Hackett responded, signal warbled, but that didn't stop Garrus from noticing the somber note in the Admiral's voice. "What exactly is happening on your end?"
"Sir, we're running on emergency power for now. Half the ship has gone dark and we're dead in the water. I'm worried that we're too exposed to the Reapers-"
"I have to stop you there, officer. The Reapers…aren't moving either."
"Come again? I'm not sure if I heard you correctly, sir."
"The Reapers have gone dark and are floating in space. We don't know what Shepard did, but it stopped them cold. Odd reports are coming in from Earth as our ground forces regroup, but it seems that the Reapers have fallen surface-level as well."
"That's…I…it's over? Just like that?
"Most of the signs point towards yes, but we're not dropping our guard just yet. What's left of the fleets plan on opening fire on every reaper that's dormant, just to make sure they can't come back. It's a damn mess, the debris field, and we're still salvaging what crews we can. If you activate your emergency beacon, I can have a cruiser in there to tow the Normandy to a safer range."
"Uh, yes sir, I'll tell Joker right away," Garrus finally answered, hearing the finality in the conversation when his hand paused above the terminal. "Admiral Hackett, sir, about the Commander…"
"I'm afraid that I'm just as in the dark as you are, Vakarian. When Harbinger dropped down on Hammer, we lost all contact. All the channels have been silent since the Reapers went offline. I'm sorry."
"Understood. I…I should report back to Joker. You should be hearing from us shortly, Admiral."
"Very well. Hackett out."
And with that the blue hue of Hackett's image went dark, leaving a very disgruntled turian to sort through the mess. He leaned over the comm terminal for a short while, barely remembering to breathe as he digested the news. All the death, all the despair…it was hard to imagine it all ending with a flash of red light. Internally, he found himself at war. One side was ready to throw caution to the wind and celebrate their survival, but the other had become lost in the grief he knew he was keeping at bay. It teased him as he stared point blank at a face he would never see again. She smiled, her brown hair resting in lazy waves around her pale face. Her eyes were so blue in the sun he pictured them basking in. He swore he felt her hand ghost over his scars just once more, but the phantom emotions were gone in a second when Traynor returned in a flurry. She hushed her questions, reading the way he was hunched inwards. Tentatively, she prodded the turian about Hackett's call. He conveyed the message with a numb tone, missing the look of remorse she had offered him. Her kind tone brought him up for air, informing him that the rest of Shepard's squad had gathered in the cockpit with Joker. Garrus nodded out of reflex, ushering for her to go first. He gazed at the comm terminal one last time, dwelling on the interrupted fantasy. He waved it away like a toxic smoke, wary of being alone should he fall prey to the images again.
It was crowded upon his arrival, the air hot with tension. Ashley was at Joker's side, offering observations as they waited for retrieval from Hackett's promised cruiser. Tali had taken a seat near EDI's mobile suit, making hardware repairs while the AI shut down to see to her software. James and Liara were in the back, overlooking the chaos. Garrus cleared his throat with a gruff cough, causing many of them to turn around. They all looked upon him with apprehension and he didn't blame them for it. He felt his face grow hot, having to excuse himself, but he meant every word he said as he apologized for his rash actions. That wasn't who he was, but he had become so enraged by the moment, he could not help himself by giving in. Liara's face softened, her head dipping in sympathy as she waved Garrus to join them. He felt a knot inside his chest uncoil slightly at the sight of so many familiar faces. He was all at once very thankful so many had survived the Reapers. He also understood that many of them were hiding their real emotions beneath the surface. If raw grief was enough to make him last out at his own friends without remorse, then he wondered just how the others would react when the dams opened. He chose not to interrupt, picking a much more private corner as he gazed out the cockpit window. Overhead, a reaper floated in the darkness and beyond laid the stars as far as they eye could see.