My first foray into fan fiction is this, a one shot short story taking place at and after the canonical ending to mass effect 3. Breaks away from the original endings a bit. Enjoy.
(Rated T for minor language and violence).
Keeping a Promise – Mass Effect 3 Post Ending Short Story
"The paths are open, but you have to choose."
As the echoes of the words faded away, so did the image of the ghostly child, backing away into the darker recesses of the chamber, leaving Shepard alone with his thoughts, and the choice before him. His mind was a maze of conflicting rationales and arguments. The fate of the galaxy, left up to him while a backdrop of chaotic violence played out all around. How was he supposed to decide, to figure out the best course for a galaxy of billions?
You don't.
A thought cut through the chaos, or was it a voice, whispered in his ear? Anderson? No, Anderson was dead, on the floor where he had left him. And yet, he almost felt as if he could see an echo of him, walking towards the platform on the right, towards the destruction of the reapers, and if the catalyst were to be believed, the destruction of all synthetics. Could he accept that kind of cost to end this war? He had always told himself that any cost was worth an end to all this, but now that the choice was right in front of him…
Don't think, act. Do what you must.
Javik's stern voice echoed through his mind. Javik, a ghost from the past returned to avenge a dead people. His image joined Anderson's, turned and walked to the right. And then it hit Shepard. It would be arrogant to decide the direction the galaxy should take. The only thing he could do would be to set the galaxy free from the Reapers to make their own way, their own future. He would have to trust the peoples of every world to make the right decisions. After all, they were the ones he had been fighting for all this time. Shepard took a deep breath and began to walk up the ramp to the right.
You came here with a mission, a purpose you believed in. Finish it.
Hackett appeared alongside the other two, seeming almost to nod in approval. Shepard continued forward. The more he thought, the more determined he was to finish the task he came here to complete. Anything less would be a betrayal of the thousands, millions who had died getting him here. He would not let their sacrifice be for nothing. He would not fail them.
"Shepard." The ghostly child had begun moving forward. Although its projected face was as expressionless as ever, Shepard could have sworn he saw concern there as he looked back at the unexpected sound of its voice. "You're making a mistake."
Ignoring him, the Commander turned and continued walking, noting that Kaidan had joined the ranks of the spectral figures lining both sides of the walkway leading the crimson cylinder at the end. His look of support solidified Shepard's dwindling resolve as he limped on.
"Shepard, think about what you are doing." The voice behind him was rising in tone and volume.
He limped on through the ever growing crowd consisting of all those who had fought and sacrificed to bring him here. Their presence gave him strength that bolstered his failing body as he continued to put one foot in front of the other.
"Shepard, there will be no going back if you do this. You have no idea what you will have been responsible for." The words seemed meant to reprimand, so why was there an undercurrent of fear behind them?
A few yards from the end of the path, Shepard reached for his sidearm, only to stumble and fall on one knee. He reached out to steady himself and felt a hand take his own, firmly but gently. He looked up to see Miranda, smiling above him. The perfect woman. The woman he loved. He remembered the last thing she had said to him. "Finish this, Shepard. Then find me." As her memory helped him up and he drew his pistol, he silently apologized. I won't be able to find you, but I can finish this for you. Goodbye.
He raised his arm towards the cylinder.
"Shepard."
He fired.
"Shepard!"
He fired again.
"SHEPARD!"
He fired again. And again. Cracks appeared on the glass, then burst as explosions began to rock the chamber.
"SHEPAAARD!"
He lowered his gun, thinking of Miranda for what seemed to be his last moment, and a single tear rolled down his cheek as he closed his eyes. The tear felt warm rolling down his face, much warmer than the cold metal floor it was pressed against. The floor?
"Shepard! Shepard can you hear me?"
Hackett's voice jolted him out of unconsciousness. He was lying prone inches away from the control panel he had collapsed in front of. Where he had blacked out. What just happened? His barely functional communicator buzzed again.
"Shepard, the crucible isn't firing, I think it's something on your end. Are you getting this?"
The commander pushed himself up with his good arm, managing to choke out, "Yes sir *cough* I'm on it." He raised himself up to the level of the console, scanning the display with blurred vision.
"Whatever you're doing Commander, do it fast. Harbinger broke away from the ground assault a few minutes ago and is making straight for your position."
And there it was, a flashing icon in the middle of the display. It resembled the citadel, but with waves of something coming out of it. Then it hit him, a device designed over multiple cycles couldn't rely on language based controls, so they had provided a simple icon. He slammed his fist down on the console and the screen was replaced with a bar that began to glow and fill. He felt the entire citadel start to shake.
"I think that did it, Shepard, something's happening. Get out of there, we're going to move to a safe distance. Hackett out."
Still not done running, Shepard thought to himself, despite his earlier promise to Miranda. He looked down at the body of his longtime mentor, and oldest friend. He couldn't take Anderson with him - he could barely carry himself – but he could take something to make sure he was remembered. He reached down and removed the Admiral's battered N7 tags and placed the chain around his own neck, turning towards the exit.
The next few hundred yards were the longest of Shepard's life. He felt the energy building up within the citadel, powered by the crucible, as he traversed the long corridor to the transport beam. Red lightning arced along the walls, and the entire place shook as if were about to explode, but still Shepard limped onward. He would make it. He would keep his promise. He had to.
Moments later, a wave of red light cascaded away from the citadel, engulfing everything. Every reaper and reaper husk it enveloped shorted out, stopped moving, then fell apart, the organic parts holding them together disintegrating and the synthetic parts just motionless hunks of metal. The energy passed from the citadel to first one relay, then another, and another until the entire galaxy was alight. After what seemed like an eternity, the blinding light receded, leaving behind nothing but an eerie and sudden calm throughout the galaxy. The reapers were gone.
Miranda picked her way through collapsed buildings and ruined streets. She, like everyone else on the planet, had witnessed the red light that had destroyed the reaper forces. The scene throughout London was still rather surreal. Soldiers who had moments ago been fighting for their lives were now left with no enemy left to fight. The reality, that the war was over, hadn't sunken in yet, and probably wouldn't for quite some time. Miranda knew that whatever had happened, Shepard would have been right in the middle of it, and she was going to find him. She pushed away thoughts analyzing the Commander's chances of survival in the middle of a war zone, especially considering he had likely seen the worst of it.
No. To hell with statistics and probabilities, she knew Shepard. There wasn't a damn thing on this earth that could stop him. All she had to do was find him; if only she knew where to look. She made her way past soldiers of every species. Some were morning the dead, some were treating injured with whatever limited supplies they had. Miranda saw Shepard's face on every injured, every casualty. Forcing herself to look away, she continued on.
"Miss Lawson?" She knew the voice, but couldn't quite place it. She turned to see a Hispanic man in alliance uniform with some bad burns on the left shoulder. Cortez, that was it, Steve Cortez, Shepard's shuttle pilot.
"Cortez, right? How did you end up here?"
"I got shot down after dropping Shepard and his squad off. Took cover with some Krogan holed up in a church, along with Mr. V-"
"Hey, who's that you've found Esteban?" That voice she definitely remembered. Shepard's musclebound marine protégé. Despite his exuberance, he did seem like a good guy under it all, even if he insisted on oozing testosterone out of his every-
"Miranda Lawson, you remember, the former Cerberus operative." Cortez replied, breaking her train of thought.
"Oh, right Shepard's girl… woman… sorry. I'll go be useful over there…" Vega moved off to help two Turians trying to dislodge their squad mate from under a pile of rubble.
"If you dropped him off, do you know where Shepard is?" She knew it was unlikely, but she needed to be doing something.
"No, but I know where he was going. I haven't heard from him since he and Anderson led their charge to the transporter beam though. I'm heading there now, are you coming?" Miranda gave him a look that both answered his question and caused him to start walking… quickly.
They made their way through the war torn city, block by block until they arrived at an enormous circular depression, at the center of which lay the remains of the transporter beam. Strewn along the path leading down into the crater were dozens of bodies and the remains of several armed personal carriers, even a crashed gunship. Long scorch marks made by reaper beams charred the landscape.
Miranda's breath caught in her throat at the sight of so many dead. She knew it was selfish, but the fact that Shepard's distinctive armor was nowhere to be seen among the bodies gave her a small sliver of hope amongst the tragedy of the slaughter before her. As she and Cortez descended into the crater, a flash of movement and something blue caught her eye. She moved towards the two figures who had attracted her attention. One was a Turian reclining against a large slab of concrete, and the other was an Asari kneeling next to him. As she got closer, she recognized them as Garrus and Liara. Garrus was clearly injured, and Liara appeared to be dressing his wounds.
"Dr. T'soni, Garrus, are you two alright?"
Liara turned to find out who had spoken. "Ah, Miranda, good to see you made it. I'm fine but Garrus was pretty badly hurt during the charge to the beam. His injuries don't appear to be critical, however."
"Honestly, I don't see what the big deal is, I'll be fine. I just lost a little blood… and some bones… and possibly some moderately important organs… but no worries!" Garrus smiled weakly. Miranda quietly admired his resilience, but she couldn't forgo what was first and foremost on her mind.
"Were you two with Shepard? Do you know what happened to him?"
Liara and Garrus glanced furtively at each other before the Asari answered, "After Garrus got hit, Shepard took a glancing blow from one of Harbinger's beams, but I think he made it to the transport beam afterwards. I'm sorry Miranda, but we haven't seen or heard from him since."
"Miss Lawson, over here!" She heard Cortez's shout, reminding her that he had begun to search through the wreckage while she stood here talking. She looked at Garrus who coughed, "I'm fine, go."
She ran towards where Cortez had yelled from, not even trying to conceal her anxiety. A few meters from reaching him she stopped dead in her tracks. Time slowed to a crawl and her heart stopped. Through the rubble and re-bar she could see Shepard's distinctive chest plate, with a chain holding a pair of N7 dog tags dangling from his mangled neck. She couldn't see his face from this angle, and she couldn't bring herself to move. He wasn't moving, and if she looked, she might find that he was-
A short sudden intake of breath caused Shepard's chest to heave slightly, and time came crashing back to its normal speed. Miranda stumbled the last few steps towards Shepard and, with the help of Cortez, shifted the largest piece of rubble off of him. She flinched seeing the massive damage his armor had sustained. Large chunks had been burned off entirely, and what remained was caked in dirt, dust and blood. But he was alive.
"He's alive, but he doesn't look good," pronounced Cortez, looking at his omni-tool, "You stay with him, I'm going to find help." He departed quickly. Miranda cleared the remaining debris off Shepard, and cradled his head in her lap. Come on Shepard, stay with me. Dammit I already rebuilt you once, don't make me do it again. Just hang on a little longer, please, for me.
If he was honest, Shepard hadn't expected to wake up again. He had been prepared for death when he had landed on earth. He'd been prepared for death when he had thought he was making his decision on the crucible, and he'd been prepared for death when he had entered the transport beam back to earth, not knowing what would happen if he used it. All of that meant that the feeling of waking up with the hand of the woman he loved resting lightly on his own was all the more spectacular.
He raised his head – not without significant discomfort – to see Miranda's resting peacefully on his hospital bed. With everything that had happened on the Citadel, he was surprised there was even a hospital left, let alone a bed. Shepard sat up a bit more and gently pushed her hair out of her face. After a moment of dazing blinking, comprehension hit her like a ton of bricks, and she bolted upright.
"Shepard!"
"Mir-" She didn't even let him finish before embracing him tightly. After a significant length of time she loosened her grip and noticed a slight grimace on his face.
"Sorry! Your chest, I wasn't thinking, are you alright?""
"Miranda, I haven't survived this long just to be finished off by a slightly exuberant hug. But you did give it your best effort there." Miranda burst out laughing in spite of herself. She never understood how Shepard could be so casual at all times, he had behaved the same way under fire in the Collector base as he was now, lying bandaged on a hospital gurney in a room with half a window missing. However he did it, whenever he flashed that lopsided smile of his at her, just as he was doing now, she knew all the problems in the world could just wait.
Shepard reached out and pulled Miranda into a gentle kiss. When she pulled away a moment later, there was a minute when neither of them knew what to say, or if anything even needed to be said. Fortunately it was at that moment that Garrus chose to clear his throat.
"So, I would have knocked, but your door…" he nodded his head meaningfully at the shattered glass with the Heurta Memorial Hospital logo still barely visible, "wasn't having any of it. And I would have felt terrible if I had interrupted."
"Garrus! So you survived having a tank dropped on you, huh?"
"Well you know what Zaeed says about surviving… anyway I was just bringing Miranda something to eat, as she keeps refusing to leave. I considered killing you so that she'd get some fresh air, but I figured that'd make you a bit cranky."
These soldiers and their banter, Miranda shook her head, it always eluded her. She did enjoy watching the obvious camaraderie between the Commander and Garrus. And Liara. And James. And Cortez. And Joker. And damn near everyone he had ever met. Shepard really was a bloody perfect human specimen. And he was hers.
"So you two probably have some catching up to do. Tali and I were going to try to find a dextro stocked bar that's not completely trashed. I'll talk to you later." Garrus put down the aforementioned food and backed out smirking.
"So, how long was I out for?" Shepard asked looking back at Miranda.
"More than a week, you had me worried for a while."
"Come on, you've seen me way worse than this."
"Maybe, but last time I had two years and several billion credits to get you better. Right now we don't even have a door."
"Right. So, how is… everything? Galaxy wise, I mean."
Miranda sat back in her chair. "Well, as you can see, the Citadel was pretty badly damaged by… whatever happened… and a large portion of the fleets were destroyed fighting the reapers in the atmosphere."
"Are there any remaining reaper forces we need to worry about?"
"No, as far as we can tell, every single reaper and reaper created husk has been destroyed or disabled. We're still concerned about any residual indoctrination, but that's a problem for after we replace all the doors." She leaned forward. "The Geth are… surprisingly good at repair work. It's some kind of delicious irony that they're working to repair the Citadel this time. Who would have guessed?"
"So the Geth are… never mind, that's good to hear." Miranda noted the pause, but chose not to pursue the topic, there would be time to discuss it later. She decided to change the subject. "I feel I should warn you, Vega and Cortez are planning a party at your new apartment once you've recovered."
Shepard groaned, "Well, I hoped you weren't too attached to the place, because there probably won't be much left after my squad are done with it." He chucked briefly, "Ow… it hurts to laugh."
Miranda felt a pang in her stomach, reminding her of how long it had actually been since she'd eaten, and reached towards the plate Garrus had left for her on the counter. Shepard continued, "Seriously though, it will be good to get everyone back together for one last hurrah. I don't imagine there will be much use for a super multi-species Special Forces team with the reapers gone."
Shepard leaned back into the pillow against his headrest. "Honestly I'm not sure there will be much use for me anymore either. I've pretty much forgotten how to live when there's no galaxy wide threat to be concerned with." Jokes aside, the look of Shepard's face worried Miranda slightly. He looked… lost. She put her hand on his arm and looked him directly in the eye.
"Listen, I won't pretend to know what's going to happen, or that everything's going to just go back to normal. If I'm honest, I'm not really sure I know what normal is any more than you do. But I will tell you this: whatever comes next, we'll face it together."
Shepard took her hand with his own and leaned in close "Is that a promise?"
"It's a promise."
The End.
Author Notes:
Ok, I wanted a quick behind the scenes talk to clear a few things up. This short story is essentially my head cannon for the end of Mass Effect 3. As of now I always pick the destruction choice, and afterwards, play through the party section of the Citadel DLC (which was fantastic, if you haven't played it). If you didn't understand by reading, in my version of things the whole catalyst thing is just a trick by Harbinger to keep Shepard from activating the crucible and destroying all the reapers. By focusing on his mission (destroying the reapers) Shepard manages to snap out of it, and detonate the device, which then kills the reapers, and not the Geth or EDI, because doing so would just be arbitrarily adding complexity into a choice for the sake of complexity at the cost of narrative cohesion. And no self-respecting writer would ever do that... ahem… moving on. Also, I choose to completely ignore the part where the Normandy hovers in front of Harbinger for 2 minutes and he doesn't blow it up, because that was just silly. So now, the party member gets injured, and they take cover behind… something… rubble probably, while Shepard makes it to the beam.
So yeah, just imagine that, then enjoy your "Victory" party with your squad. Yay. Hope you guys enjoyed my first foray into the world of fan-fiction. Please review, and let me know what you think. I have plans for a series leading up the events we see here, encapsulating what lead Shepard and Miranda to where they are at the end of the game from where they met at the beginning of Mass Effect 2.