This may not be the best time to do this, considering that I have two major stories already in the works. But in all honesty, it does feel like a sort of therapy, after what happened to the mother of my child. Also, this will probably be the only Mass Effect story I will write. However, if I ever were to change my mind, this story would become non-canon, because as a few of you may know, for example, my OC characters in Star Wars, are all aware of each other's existence. As per usual, since I don't give my real description, you can simply imagine my appearance as default male Shepard.
In scenes where the main character, Griffin Walker, flashes back, the word font switches to Italics.
This is not a reflection of how I played through the original trilogy. It is not meant to show if I prefer maleShep, or femShep. Neither is every detail in this story an actual event that happened in mine, and my deceased fiancé's relationship, which should prove to be obvious, but you never know with some people. This is simply something I write to ease my mind. With all that being said, here's You Are Missed.
Devastated
Hell. That's what the five elite agents of the Nightshade observed from their cockpit. Hell both on, and around Earth. The massive purple constructs known as the Reapers were shooting capital level ships in half, every minute. Enemy combat units were overwhelming all races on both the Earth, and the moon. Human, Turian, Asari, Salarian, and even the Krogan were losing upwards of fifty troops, every other minute. But it wasn't entirely hopeless. Through patience, and grit, Commander Shepard and a small team were able to hold a Reaper off from a missile system, long enough to launch one into its laser, and kill it. Who else but her to pull that off. Unconfirmed reports stated that the Normandy had left Earth, to an as of yet unconfirmed destination. But, with their own dire personal situation, no one on the Nightshade had time to figure out the validity of this report.
Although the Nightshade was a bit smaller than the original Normandy, it made up for its underwhelming size, with the best armor money could buy. But even that armor was at a slight disadvantage, to the firepower of even the Reaper Starfighters. She could only take so much, and one last shot was enough to send the ship crashing down. Starting the battle in space, now aiding allied forces in the skies above Houston, Texas, their was nothing that anyone on her crew could do, except pilot Nicholas Borde, an Engineer class agent, who could only hope to make the landing as easy as possible, at this point. Joined by Ship captain Griffin Walker a solider, Carlos Morales an infiltrator, Matias Font a Sentinel, and Ramone Garcia an Adept, the men strap themselves in, as Walker gets on the intercom. "Crew of the Nightshade, we are going down! All hands, get seated down, and strap yourselves in! This is not a drill, repeat this is not a drill!"
"Its been an honor knowing, and serving with you four." Ramone states.
"Don't talk like that, Ramone!" Matias snaps.
"I can get us through this, I swear!" Nick promises his oldest friends. "Just hang on tight, and brace yourselves!"
In all reality, the ship and her crew were lucky that they weren't crashing down from the atmosphere, as it would have made this landing fiery. But with the Reapers hulking over the Houston skyline, and the Nightshade perfectly vulnerable, even Carlos, a highly experienced sniper, couldn't hold back the nervous sweat. The only way Nicholas' knuckles could be any more white, was if the bones had popped through the skins. Matias' eyes were practically shooting his own death lasers through the side of the closest Reaper. Ramone had to preoccupy himself, by seeing how many of the Nightshade's systems, and machines could have been saved, if worse came to worse. As for Griffin, he said one thing silently, "Guess I might not make it to that breakfast after all."
After a seemingly long time, the ship finally touched ground, and began to slide, with Nicholas trying his damndest to grind the ship to a halt, as the alarms rang the loudest any of them had ever heard. Although Ramone's readings categorized the ship's armor as compromised, it still was able to hold up against the debris that it inevitably ran over, on the way down. Realizing they were about to crash right into the Battle of San Jacinto monument, which was surprisingly still standing, Nicholas pushed all systems toward a hard brake. They hit the base of the monument, causing the windshield to shatter, as Ramone throws up a barrier large enough to protect all five of them from the glass. They took a minute to catch their breaths, and realized that their ears were all wringing, and they couldn't hear a sound other, for the next thirty minutes.
Finally, they realize their hearing has returned, when a member of their crew comes to check on them. "Sirs, are you all alright?"
"We'll be fine officer. Lead everyone to the base, we'll make our own way out." Griffin says.
"Yes sir."
"Before you go, how bad is it?"
"We're all wounded, minorly, to majorly. three casualties."
"Damn. Alright, head to the nearest base camp, and move quietly.
"Understood."
Griffin then turned to his squad. "You guys alright?"
"I'll be perfectly fine." Carlos said, standing right up.
"Can't feel my fingers, but I can move my arms. I'll be alright." Ramone said, as he stretch out.
"Think I lost a tooth." Matias said, holding his mouth.
"My knee's broken." Nicholas said. "I need help, my chairs jammed."
"Alright, Matias, lets get him out of the chair." Griffin responds, as the two big men move over, and muscle the chair back, to where they could get their old friend out of here. "Come on guys, we need to get to the base."
"Griffin, you're bleeding." Nicholas says.
"Same spot Nick?"
"Yeah."
"I'll live." Carlos and Ramone lead Griffin and Matias, carrying Nick, out to the entry port, and into the ruins of Houston. What was once a great American city, has now been reduced to a smoldering, smoky mess. But just when they thought their sight couldn't get any worse, one of the smaller Reapers lands right in front of them, its death laser undoubtedly no less deadly than those of its larger counterparts. As for the very eye that the laser is shot out of, it was staring them down, prepping for fire.
"Boys, as captain of the ship, this is on my shoulders. I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault." Nick says.
"It is what it is." Matias coldly states.
"We gave them hell." Ramone gleefully states.
"And we fought and died as a team, as we always should've." Carlos concludes, showing the brother's comradery. As the Reaper's eye shined brighter, and eradiated more raw power, the five men shut their eyes, and braced to find the answer of one of life's greatest mysteries, they suddenly heard a powering down size, and opened their eyes to realize that the Reaper's eye had completely shut off, as the red colored energy had faded away, and the Reaper was stumbling right to the ground, undamaged, yet still dead.
After a brief pause of confusion, they realized that their communications were going off like crazy. "Delta squadron, come in!"
Regaining his composure, and wiping some of the blood away from his eye, Griffin answered the call. "This is Lieutenant Walker, codename Destroyer. We're all alive and well, with the exception of pilot Nicholas Borde, whose right knee is shattered. What's the situation?"
"Vastly improved. The Crucible was a success. Commander Shepard was a success. The Reapers are dying, one by one."
All five had the biggest smiles on their faces. "Roger that Command. In that case, we're requesting pick up. Our location is the San Jacinto monument, in Houston, Texas."
"Request granted. They'll be there soon. Glad to hear you and your squad made it out alive, Lieutenant." They say as the call is cut.
"She did it boys. We win." Even Nick, with as much energy as he could muster, raised his fist up to the air, as Delta Squadron let out a victory cry, that could be heard for miles.
Days later...
Nick's knee was shattered, completely. He had had surgery exactly one day after the battle on and above Earth. The doctor said that if he wasn't forced into retirement, that he would be out for a year. As for the Nightshade, there was no chance of it being flight-worthy again, which saddened all five men, as it had served as their mobile command center, since they were named an N7 squad five years ago. It was their home. While not every memory they had on that ship was a good one, it was still their home.
"Hey Griffin," Nick starts. "Have you seen her yet?"
"Oh wow, I haven't even looked for her yet." He answers.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" Matias says, a dumbfounded look on his face.
"Seriously. Go find her."
"You sure Nick?"
"Go. I'll be fine."
"Come on man. We don't know what she's been through. Seeing you could be exactly what she needs, right now." Carlos adds.
"Alright boys," Griffin starts, as he turns to run out, to the command center. "I'll see y'all later." He exits the medical center sprinting toward the command center. He could've looked around for a member of her crew, or a member of her squad, but realized that going to Command, and speaking to Admiral Hackett, would've been a much faster alternative. Luckily, Alliance Command Ship was undamaged, and there was enough ships left, and enough days had passed, that Hackett wasn't overly busy. It was a long way from the Medical Center, to the Command Center, but Griffin had to know. The doors open, and he slowed to a walk, and saluted the Admiral. "Admiral Hackett."
"At ease Lieutenant Walker. I was going to come find you before long."
"Admiral, what became of-"
"I know what you're going to ask Lieutenant."
"You do?"
"Yes. I know of your past relationship with Commander Jane Shepard. She did in fact make it onto the Crucible, along with Admiral Anderson. Cerberus leader the Illusive Man was also on board. I wish I had better news for you Lieutenant... but all three have been confirmed dead."
Griffin once again lost his hearing. He knew Hackett had said more, but once his face was buried in his right hand, he could no longer hear a word. A single tear shed from his left eye.