Author's Message: Hey everyone! Just thought I'd let you know I am still alive. :D No worries, I haven't abandoned ffnet, and I fully intend to continue writing here for quite some time. ;) I just happened to take the summer off, and I'm really getting back into the swing of things now.

General update, the Devious Twins team has began work on Stirrings (Kronots's sequel), so do not fret. You will be satisfied! Also, the poll that had been posted on my profile has been closed for some time now, and I'd thought I'd announce that the winner was the series of ME one shots. And as promised, I shall deliver! I've already begun work on more than two pieces for this collection, and they should be ready within the next couple months. So please, by all means, keep a keen eye out!

Then, referring to this piece... This was written by inspiration of Ryan Kelly(of the Celtic Thunder vocalists)'s rendition of "Brothers in Arms". I HIGHLY suggest you listen to this song either before, after, or during the reading of this mini-story. Preferably all three. lol. It really adds to the ambiance. (And yes, it can be found on youtube. ;) )

But no matter WHAT you do...!

Enjoy, this. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or its characters.

Every Man Has to Die

Thunder.

Commander Shepard could feel the storm coming, could sense the mist condense along the side of the mountain her unit was harbored on. The low rumble of sound beat its way through her body, mimicking her heavy, weighted heart.

Th-thump.

She stopped for a moment, taking in the charged atmosphere; every aspect of this world seemed to be waiting in anticipation for the dawn of the next day.

The Reapers were already here. Shepard had learned through pure luck that the machines' new plan meant taking out this system first. Specifically this planet, Tangior. Due to a series of instructions she had 'accidently' leaked through channels the Geth has tapped, the Reapers had assumed that this is where civilization would make its last stand.

She looked up to the darkening sky, the clouds quickly covering the visibility of the planet's two moons. It wouldn't be long now.

"Ma'am?" Her second-in-command inquired from her left.

It did little to break her trance. She glanced at her lieutenant for a moment to indicate she'd heard him, then lifted a delicate finger to the side of her helmet, adjusting the HUD display. Her eyes zoomed with the camera between the trees to the South. Just beyond the thick branches lie what she knew awaited them. A seemingly calm and serene valley. Her battlefield. Her tomb.

"We rest here for the night." She finally said. She tilted her head over her shoulder to Alenko as she spoke. "We move out at dawn."

He nodded, then left her side to relay her orders among the other troops. She gazed out to the valley again. She wasn't sure how she felt about knowing that that was the last time she would say those words. Slowly, she removed her helmet and peered between the trees, not seeing her destination anymore with the naked eye. But she knew it was out there, maybe an hour long march away.

No one could've known how long she stood there. The mist had become tangible before she moved again, making her hair damp and her armor appear to be sweating. The jungle began humming with nocturnal life, and despite the humidity, she remained only comfortably cool in the tropic evening.

She sighed as her last night began, the stars glinting above her between the exotic floral leaves of the trees.

She would not win the battle tomorrow. She would die for this. But hell… so many already had. Ashley, Garrus, Tali… Even Joker in the end had kamikazied the Normandy so that they could have this one shot. They would not live to tell their story, what they had been through, but her sacrifice tomorrow, and the sacrifice of the two hundred men and women behind her, would give the council's fleet the chance it needed to end the Reaper's reign forever.

Commander Shepard had lost her family at a young age. Since then it had seemed that every turn in her life had prepared her for this moment. She was the one person that could do this, the one person that was strong enough. She had never been more sure of anything in her entire life. She was born for the dawn that was fast approaching.

Every man has to die.

It was some time later that she walked among her soldiers. Some navy, other marines, army… a motley crew of volunteers, most of which held high credentials, medals of bravery, and all the motivation in the world. Some of the recruits were leaning on each other to sleep, others against trees, using the tiny lights in their helmets to check their weapons or whisper small prayers before falling asleep.

She nodded to each of them, keeping her face carefully blank. She didn't want to disturb their thoughts. They knew what would happen to them when the sun rose. And they were all good people. Good in the sense that they knew what they had to do, and why, and were proud to say they were part of the last stand.

Her eyes fell on a crew-cutted marine leaning against one of the smaller trees. He'd innovatively tied some of the leaves growing from the monstrous plant above his head together to protect himself from the bugs and any rainfall that would come in the night. It was what reminded her of his name; Sergeant McCrory, a resourceful thinker from one of the outer colonies.

His own small light was instead illuminating a small piece of metal in his hands. She stepped toward him, but he didn't attempt to hide it from her. She recognized the shape of a locket, and understood immediately the contemplative look on his face. His calloused thumb ran over the images of an admittedly attractive blonde woman and a young girl, both smiling as they snuggled in the picture, as if trying to make sure they could both fit inside the tiny frame.

"They're beautiful." Shepard said softly, looking over his solider. He flinched at the sudden sound for a moment, but upon seeing it was her, relaxed again.

"Thank you, ma'am." He replied quietly, returning his gaze to the portrait.

"Your family?" Shepard asked.

He nodded. "My wife, Vanessa. And our daughter, Kiara."

Shepard heard the tightening in his voice. She let a moment of silence pass between them for a moment before speaking again. "How old is she?" She inquired carefully.

"Eight."

Shepard kneeled next to him and gingerly put a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, as if really seeing her for the first time when she did this.

"She will live to see nine, Sergeant." She said solidly.

For a moment he didn't say anything. But then he met her eyes, showing her a trust that sincerely touched her. "Yes, ma'am."

Her lips barely twitched in an attempt to comfort him with a smile. Then she rose again.

"Commander…" He called after her quietly. "I know I'm not supposed to have this. Personal possessions are against the regulations in the field…"

He was expecting her to address it. She actually produced a tiny grin. What was she going to do, report him?

"No." She said, shaking her head. "Wear it tomorrow."

He nodded, and his eyes glistened in meaning as he quickly clasped the silver chain around his neck and let it land with a small chink against his armor.

"Now get some rest." She ordered quietly.

"Yes, ma'am."

She couldn't sleep. She didn't even bother trying. Once it seemed the majority of the unit has settled in she padded her way to the perimeter of their makeshift camp, and after a moment's consideration, kept going. She stalked towards the valley, making the trip on her own in only half the estimated time. But when she reached a few meters before the tree line, and when she could so easily to see the grassy field ahead of her, she stopped.

It was as if she knew where the boundary lay, and that once she entered into it... there would be no returning.

Across the way, maybe two miles over open terrain, the opposing side of the forest hummed with alien inhabitants. She couldn't see them, but she knew the enemy was there. Like shadows and whispers, a black mass of destructors, waiting for the weak humans to make their presence known.

Her breath steadied. In all the confusion, all the complexities of existence, this was such a simple ending. For the first time she could hear her breath, not as part of her, but as a result of a system of fleshy organs and tightening muscles. It was strange to think of her body as only that, a body. But it didn't dictate her, or capture her. It wasn't the essence of her. Why should she mourn its loss?

She heard the rain before she felt it, thrumming against the thick, dense leaves of the forest. The drops were heavy and large, and she tilted her face back to welcome the sensation of it running down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and reveled in Mother Nature's tears, shed for the children that were witnessing rain for the very last time.

"I had a feeling you'd be out here."

"I had a feeling you'd follow me." She countered as her lieutenant drew nearer. She straightened up again to see him, his handsome features not bothering to flinch from the water as it plummeted on his armor.

His eyes squinted forward into the valley, as if trying to see the presence that he was surely feeling as well. "I hope they buy it. They can't really believe that two hundred of us are truly going to be the galaxy's last resistance." Kaidan said quietly.

"They're overconfident." Shepard said, not looking at him. "They think they've already won, and they have no reason to believe differently. But tomorrow before first light we'll tie some of the upper branches of the forest together and leave a small team behind to trip the wires, just to be sure. Hopefully they'll think there are more of us on the hill. With any luck, by the time they know better the Council fleet will have had made its move."

He inched closer to her while she spoke. "I'm not going to stay behind and pull cords, Shepard." He said softly. "I want to be on the front lines. With you."

Somewhere amid their conversation the rain has ceased. She'd never know why it was then that she noticed. She finally turned her head and met his gaze. "No. I wouldn't have it any other way either."

In an instant he closed the distance between them and kissed her. She wound her hands up to the side of his neck and she held him there, keeping their foreheads pressed against each other long after the kiss had ended.

They breathed deeply for a moment, knowing that they already understood any kind of goodbye they could try to voice in words. Kaidan whispered something to her but she only caught the tail end of it… something about there not be any other place he'd rather be. She took a step back from him again and continued to stare into the valley.

This time tomorrow no one was going to care what kind of regs she followed or broke.

"I saw what you did with the sergeant... and his locket…"

She didn't say anything.

"Shepard…" Kaidan breathed. "We'd always said that one day we would go public… most likely the day we retired..."

She watched him look up at the sky out of her peripheral, his eyes beginning to sparkle for a future they had planned but had always known they'd never have.

"I'd like to wear my wedding ring."

She turned her head to see him look down again at the ground, but not at her.

So he'd still kept in on him. She'd always wondered.

Without breaking her gaze on him she pulled off her left glove and dropped it in the mud. His eyes flitted to it briefly before searching her face. With her right hand she unzipped a hidden side pocket on her armor, slipped two fingers into the tiny opening and pulled out her own ring.

It started a theme between the two of them. Within the next five minutes they'd both freed themselves of gloves altogether, and stashed the two separate pairs in the knotted hole of a nearby tree. The unit that would fight with them, die with them tomorrow, would be the only ones to know the truth about their companionship. After a minute's thought, Commander Shepard pulled at the sleek knot of hair at the back of her head and for the first time in her career let her hair fall down onto her armor. The band she had held it with through so many battles joined their gloves in the tree.

She wasn't sure why this was important to her. She only understood that when her body lay lifeless the following day, she wanted to look like a human. Not just a soldier, nor a war hero. That was who she was, but it wasn't all that she was. She had an identity. And she wanted some part of that to be left behind.

That image made her shiver in a way she hadn't expected. And immediately, Kaidan was around her, holding her, soothing her without even trying.

She clung to him, held him as tight as she could, to feel him, physically, as much as she could. Anything to prove to herself that she had possessed something truly beautiful in life.

There was always a part of her that new this truth though: that this day would come, even before she knew the location of their end. And that much was comforting. Things were as they should be, really. No regrets.

Every man has to die.

7 hours later...

Shepard became.

She became something else as she stepped onto the grass and the dawn lit up her face. Her soul lifted, rose, grew outside of her body, and as if she were already dead she understood more of the universe than ever comprehendible before this moment.

To her left, the red sun rose, basking the battlefield in a bronze tint. Across the way, the tree line seemed to move in one giant mass as the enemy approached.

She was larger than her body now. Her hair danced across her face, and her pulse quickened. And there was a song, a music of life that began in her heart.

Th-thump. Th-thump. A powerful bass.

It overcame her, and she looked from side to side. Each face of her battalion stared dead ahead, to where the opponents were emptying their cover and flooding the field.

There was sick sadistic noise to their movements, but in her mind it was muted away, until her own steady beat was all that still remained. She heard nothing. Not the crunch of ground beneath her feet, not the warming up of her weapon as she pulled it to her chest.

It was hopeless, the way the enemy poured like oil across the field, and she decided then how she was going to go into this last fight.

She was so ready.

She took one step forward, and turned back to look at her line of soldiers. She knew what this moment meant. They all knew what this meant. They followed her loyally, blindly, passionately…

Their breaths joined like a humming of violins into the song that was filling her existence. And she broke one last rule.

She saluted them.

Even as she rotated, for the last time, she roared out a shout that filled her core, burst through her being, and filled the air. And she ran, headlong, into hell.

Every blast that fell from the sky was a thunderous percussion. Every rifle scream was a melodic violin. Every human yell was a harmonic cello. She heard no explosions, bullets, or shouts.

An orchestra played in her heart with a song so sad, so powerful it made her want to cry.

Her long legs muscled across the grass with the strumming strings of the tune. She kept firing, firing, firing. Again and again.

Beside her, around her, inside her, even as they advanced, she witnessed her men baptized in fire from the enemy's artillery. They exploded in flame, and their lives were snuffed out. And still, those who were left continued to run beside her. They all had the hearts of lions, the determination of a force greater than mortality. A roaring flame of emotion inside of them that was more powerful than the enemy's weapons.

Emotion was what the Reaper's couldn't undrstand. Why someone would fight so hard in a battle they could not win…

And they could not win. It was so uneven; the opponent outnumbered her men easily six to one…

She kept running, the thrumming of string instruments propelling her forward in long aggressive strides. She wanted to reach the center of the battlefield, to reach the point where ground would either be taken or lost.

She heard the indoctrinated organics shout in common galactic to the geth to take her down. She was easily the largest threat. She ran straight towards them, disposing of those who had been at the head of their pack and just happened to reach her first, most of which were the reaper fighter machines.

But she blazed the trail to the enemy, and her men followed in her footsteps, quickly gaining ground until the two sides crashed violently together.

And then chaos.

The distance attacks were over, and she was furiously fighting in every way she could, hungry to cause damage to whatever came near to her.

She fought. She fought. Not with cover and tactics, but up close, getting personal with the thick shadowy skins of the enemy. She saw their faces, their soulless eyes, born of a world that wasn't even really alive. Everything was so close, humans and Reaper soldiers were so intermixed it was all one self-destructing mass.

She didn't feel the strain of her muscles, the grunt of her own voice with each strike. Still the world was silent to her. Just this music, this lullaby, in an otherwise chaotic thunderous rupture, taking place in a glorious universal existence.

She witnessed the suffering of all humanity, and the victory of it, in all of the faces of her men as the battle raged higher. She saw a whole history of people vanish in a single flash of blazing agony. But in their expressions there was a pride, strength in their eyes… And hope for a new history to be born.

She was so close to death every second, so close to defeat, but she flew, furious, raging, relentless against the advancing machines. Hours seemed to pass, but she was numb to any feeling of fatigue.

And finally, after a lifetime of seeing entire Reaper 'cycles' flicker and spark out of the black soldier's eyes as she cut them down, one by one, a new powerful instrument joined in the symphony, adding strength to the inspiring melody, and she looked up to see a streak of blue light split the sky in two, breaking the sound barrier and shaking the ground. The true war had begun in the atmosphere. The Reapers would be realizing soon that her and her unit were not the real target.

It was as if her world began spinning in slow motion after that. She'd done her part.

She tasted ash and soot, and smoke hissed into her eyes. Bodies fully engulfed in flames ran past her, whole chunks of earth were hewn from the ground where the heavy artillery of the enemy bombarded on her and her men. Machines, Geth, and the indoctrinated organics all danced furiously amid the field with her soldiers.

In the tranquil silence of her spirit, she downed the closest target near to her with a swift knife to what she had learned was the sensitive part of their metallic shells. It fell, and joined the perimeter of black machines that she had decommissioned around her. She looked just outside the ring, then farther out across the battle to assess how much longer they'd last.

Black metal mixed and bled with pink and tan flesh, both dead and alive. So many human bodies, so many had already fallen. But the enemy too had broken, like the machines they were. And they sunk, busted, in the mud. Metal and skin lay on top of each other; fuel and blood, gears and muscle, together.

As she took this in a new line joined in the harmony, and it was so sweet, so sad…

She stood on her own in the middle of this maelstrom, her hair flying around her face, her cheeks grimy and streaked with blood and dirt, and tears slid down her cheeks. She hadn't even realized she'd been crying.

Then the song stopped in a single horrifying sound. Silenced in a single instant.

Pain.

Pain unimaginable, indescribable. She screamed. A single dark metallic rod-like weapon violently protruded from her stomach. She watched in horror as it twisted for only a moment, and then was gone.

She fell, coughing and sputtering, tasting blood. She was dizzy with pain. A black mechanical body skittered over her, its duty finished.

Sounds forced their way into her mind, as if vengeful that she had succeeded in ignoring them for so long. Earth ripping thunder, rumbling earthquakes from sound bursts, desperate screams, and the high whirring of weapons. The hideous, shattering squeal of the Reaper soldiers...

And the cries, the horrific, agonizing cries… her people were being butchered; Hewn by the geth even as they crawled torturously on the ground.

She was laying on the ground before even realizing she'd collapsed onto her back. Seconds seemed like hours, and she realized she couldn't breathe. She was choking on blood, unable to do anything about it, and for a brief moment, panic took her.

She heard a shout, maybe her own, but it could've been someone else entirely…

Then the pain stopped. She went numb. She still wasn't breathing, but it stopped frightening her. It just was, now. Even silence returned to her, and the sweet melody whispered in her ear, soothing her.

It was strange that for that moment, which could've been a millisecond, she thought it was beautiful. These mist covered mountains would be her home now. For a soldier that had never had one.

Her brain functioned long enough for her to see the sky darken again with the shadows of hundreds of Citadel ships. Turian, Human, Asari, Salarian, the entire Quarian fleet. And the Rachni, the race she had saved… the Turian councilor had been right, it wasn't long at all before the Rachni were powerful enough again to pose a threat. What his short-sightedness couldn't see is that they would also soon be powerful enough to aid… and they had. Because she had asked them to.

The edges of her vision blackened, but in that last second, the last picture that flickered in her mind before it sparked out, was the sight of black metal exploding in the sky. It was only one Reaper, of what she knew would be many. But it showed her what she had prayed she would someday see. The Alliance, the galaxy, organic civilization in its entirety… could win.

She barely felt the muscles in her lips smile before death finally took her.

The Council deemed almost immediately after the victory over the Reapers that a Search and Rescue would never be conducted.

There was an eerie silence to Tangior now. And for centuries to come a citadel patrol would orbit the planet in dutiful vigil, ensuring that no one ever be allowed to touch foot on its surface. This guard would be a sought after posting, a position of esteem and honor, to guard the tomb that held the saviors of the galaxy, and their enemies.

Tangior now had a belt of broken ships, both organic and otherwise trapped in orbit. A few of the locked engagements had led vessels too deep into the atmosphere and the planet's gravity had pulled them to their deaths, and they too were now entombed on the planet's face.

This sector of space now was too respected to be passed without a moment of reverence.

On the citadel, a new statue was erected, a circle of unity surrounding a new design of architecture. As the many cultures of earth has pulled together to form the Alliance, after this mark in history, the civilization of the galaxy became the 'One Existence'. And this new statue was the symbol of this birth, of galactic peace and strength.

Citadel tower itself became a memorial; names of all that had died for the cause were etched forever in the white stone. Their names only. Never was it asked what race they were, or what homeworld they'd originated from.

The whole Normandy crew was honored on the tower, their names shining in the purple nebula with each rotation.

Inside, stood a new memorial altogether. At the top of the presidium, replacing the fountain that had once been there, was a great, shining, iridescent wall. On it forever would be the two hundred names of those forever resting on Tangior. Commander Shepard headed the list, in bold print. And for the eons that followed, there wasn't a person who didn't know her name.

And it was never explainable to anyone how the Keepers seemed to naturally take this wall in as a part of the Citadel itself. The creatures would clean and maintain it for the rest of time. The Asari Consort whispered suspicions to her clients that perhaps this outcome had always been what the mysterious caregivers had hoped for someday. From one civilization or the next.

Commander Shepard's name would be on history exams for students studying for ages to come. Hopeful space explorers would memorize the entire list of titles in awe, and tourist families would come to the memorial and wonder about all the things these people has seen, how they had lived, who they were.

But no one saw the bodies. No one lived to bear witness to the destruction born in that valley. No one was alive to describe how the smoke and fire burned for days.

Somewhere in the field a man's hand had frozen, clutching the golden locket around his neck.

And near the center of the blood stained canvas lay a dark haired lieutenant, a piece of shrapnel rising from his back. His head rested heavily on the chest of a woman who had died with a small smile on her lips. His fingers were interlocked with hers, and the dirt on his handsome face was streaked with where his last tears had dried. Their golden rings would glint in the sunlight long after their bodies had turned to dust.

But that was something no one would know. And had anyone had been able to ask Shepard she would've claimed that it never bothered her. Who could have asked more a more purposeful life, or a more meaningful existence than the one she'd had? She was always meant to die on that field. And that meant that Kaidan, in his own right, was meant to die there as well.

After all, every man has to die eventually.

They just got to be the ones to do it while saving the universe.

Please review. I'm anxious to hear from you!