Me and Mine own NOTHING! (no suing please?)
Many, many, many thanks to jamiepage19, without whom this would not exist. (if you don't know who she is, LOOK HER UP, NOW! AND READ HER STUFF! SHE'S AWSOME!) THANK YOU, JAMIE!
Commander Shepard and his crew have risked life and limb to keep this galaxy safe. The end has finally come, and Shepard is the only one who can destroy the Reapers.
But he fails.
In his last wish, he prays for his family to be safe, and to put the end to the Reapers that he could not. When three youths step up to replace the un-replaceable, can Shepard's fire-forged crew and family accept them?
The Songbirds
Prologue
Project Songbird Report
Subject: Progress Update
All subjects have reported in. We have 20 in total; we start narrowing down tomorrow. We hope to narrow down the roster to just six of these kids. After that, we will begin the true test of skills. Hayner has been pushing for hybrid abilities; I maintain that having three separate and effective fields would be best for our purposes. I suppose we will just have place our bets and watch the foals run.
There are three that have me a little concerned. No one will come get them, I'm sure, but the way they eye all the others from a little corner in the room tells me that they are not fit to be here. The other kids are getting up, talking to each other, trying to get a sense of orientation, but those three…
We'll just have to see.
Present Day
The war felt so far away…
John Shepard sat and watched as his forces—the turians and krogan, the quarians and geth, the asari, salarians, volus, elcor, and all other sentient life forms—waged war against the giant sentient slaughter houses known as Reapers. A war started by him, and he thought he would finish it as well, much like how he finished all his enemies. He had lost so many friends along the way… But he knew that their sacrifice would be worth it, because they would leave the galaxy that much safer, that much better.
As he would; as only he could.
Shepard spared a glance at the man slumped over in death behind him. Anderson, his mentor, his foster father lay there in peace at last, and Shepard almost envied the man. But he still had one last job to do, and he would do or his name wasn't Commander John Elliot Shepard. And it unfortunately was.
John chuckled at his line of thought before bending over to the task destiny itself had set before him. The crucible was docked, and there was a great amount of energy flowing through it and the Citadel, but it was unfocused, stagnant, as though waiting for just the right command to do…whatever it was supposed to do. John frowned at that; how was he supposed to give this massive super weapon he and his team and allies had sacrificed so much to build direction, when he had none for it?
He felt frustration lace though his blood, before it spilled onto the shiny chrome floor. What now? He didn't have a whole lot of time left, either for himself or for those fighting in his line of sight. He raised his eyes in time to see a Reaper canon cut through another allied ship like it was hot butter.
What do I do? What do I do?
John cast his eyes around the controls in a frenzy, hoping for some solution, a light of inspiration of any kind. He felt hot tears of frustration and desperation as he thought of his ship—his home—and his crew—his family.
Why am I doing this? What good can come out of this? The galaxy won't be any more or less safe even if I don't defeat the Reapers… What good am I doing anyone?!
"…And when I feel that way, I reach for you."
John stopped. He reached into one of his armor pockets and hope it had survived Harbinger's beam. His omnitool had been fried along with most of his armor, but there had been a special picture that he had wanted to save for only himself. Luckily for him, the picture had barely survived.
He had taken it after he had helped the quarians take back Rannoch. He had an arm wrapped around Tali, and Garrus was standing in the background. Tali had her helmet off and a soft, loving smile on her face, one that John mirrored. Garrus sported a smug grin as he cleaned silvery synthetic bio-fluid off his beloved Widow M-9X. The two of them had made a competition out of who could snipe the most geth—"and if you don't hit the lightbulbs, it doesn't count"—and Garrus had (just barely) won.
The image was how John wished he could always see his two best friends: happy, content. It was how he wished all his crew could be, really. He hoped Liara could get back to Feron and maybe foster a whole generation of Shadow Brokers; he hoped Javik would be at peace at long last; he hoped James would be able and willing to pick the slack for when John was gone; he hoped Joker and EDi would find happiness.
He hoped for many things…
And as he activated the crucible, those thoughts were firmly in his mind.
And as he entered what Thane had called "The Eternal Depths," he was at peace knowing that his family would be safe.
And that was the Prologue. Thoughts, feelings?