Hey, everyone, I'm back with a first for me: a foray into the world of Mass Effect. This story is set AFTER the end of Mass Effect 2, so please don't read it if you haven't finished.
For those of you who have, some pertinent information: FemShep, everyone survived the suicide mission, some profanity (because I just had to give Jack a cameo in the first part). I hope to make Shep's background and suchlike clear in later chapters, so I won't post 'em here.
The Omega 4 Relay.
Lurking in the blackness of space, a hulking blood-red monstrosity of legend, the Relay seemed to radiate a sense of quiet menace. Unlike the more well-traveled Relays between systems, the surface of Omega 4 was pitted and corroded: a testament to its age, and a visible, chilling reminder of the implacable foe the galaxy faced in the Reapers.
Commander Alexandra Shepard, PCV Normandy-SR2, shuddered at the sight. So much had happened through the Relay – it had been such a blitz of adrenaline, nerves, and outright terror that very little of it of was memorable in more than the barest snapshots of blood and fire. Except the Reaper.
Alex leaned forward against the viewport, only reinforced plasticine and a few strands of auburn hair between her and the Relay. The woman who had died in front of them, the colonist… her eyes had been on Alex until the blood had obscured the chitinous glass between them. Her screams had been muffled, but… not enough. Alex wasn't sure whether she wanted to be able to forget them... or to remember them forever, to remind her of the price of failure. She sighed, closing her eyes, letting the cool of the window seep through her forehead and into the fire in her brain –
"Commander, my internal sensors indicate a dangerous rise in levels of melancholy at your current location." EDI's crisp synthesized voice emerged from the speaker by the door; Alex didn't move. "Should this trend continue, I will have no choice but to seal the port observation deck and vent its contents." There was a pause. "That was a joke."
Alex pushed herself off the window, crossing to the console with a few steps. "I'm okay, EDI. Just thinking about what happened."
The security locks on the door hissed closed. "Sealing observation deck airlock."
"I'm fine! EDI, come on," Alex shouted, mashing at the console.
The door opened again. "That was also a joke."
Alex opened her mouth to reply, then smiled despite herself. "Got it." She stepped out into the crew deck hallway, blinking a little at the sudden brightness.
"Oh, there you are, Shepard," Tali exclaimed, stopping short of the door to Main Engineering. "We've been looking all over for you, you know." She cocked her left hand, bringing her omni-tool into being around it. "I found her, Joker," she said. "She was in the observation deck." The 'tool piped a tinny approximation of the pilot's voice back to her, and she deactivated it.
"A shipwide me-hunt?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow – the one that wouldn't pull at her scars, new or old. "That sounds ominous, Tali."
"We can't very well start without you," Tali replied reasonably, taking her arm and leading her to the elevator. "Come on, Shepard. If we wait too long I think Massani might start shooting things."
"Now, I remember things a little differently," Garrus put in, slurring his words just a little. "That was the time you flipped the Mako down a ravine, wasn't it? Honestly, Commander, I've never been more afraid for my life."
"'Ravine' is pushing it, Vakarian," Alex laughed, slapping him on the arm. "It was a goddamn canyon and don't you forget it."
"That's the spirit, Shepard," Grunt growled, hefting his mug of ryncol in a semi-salute. At the table next to him, Ken Donnelly peered owlishly at the krogan's drink.
"How is tha', anyway?" he asked curiously, sliding his own glass over. "Mind if I 'ave some?"
"Inadvisable. Ryncol not suited for intake by humans," Mordin noted. "Has been described not inaccurately as 'tearing up insides'."
"It's glowing, Ken," Gabby Daniels pointed out, pulling him back into his chair. "Stick with drinks that won't power the drive core, okay?"
"Tha'd get us ten kilometers tops," Donnelly sniffed, but he retracted his glass – just as well, since Grunt had been pointedly ignoring it.
There was a commotion about halfway down the table, and Miranda stood up to scattered applause, a half-empty glass of white wine in her gloved hand. "Everyone, a moment please," she called. "Settle down. Be quiet, already." When the crew had quieted, she stepped out from the table, walking around the seated sailors to stand facing Alex.
"Commander, I shouldn't even be saying this, considering what you said to the Illusive Man," she began, resting her elbow on the arm wrapped around her stomach, "but given that I'm at least halfway drunk and most certainly fired, I imagine I can bear to." She raised her glass, sweeping her gaze over the assembled crew and specialists of the Normandy. "To Commander Shepard: scourge of the Collectors. Destroyer of Reapers. Our captain." She took a hearty drink, to massive cheering and a laconic "Fuck yeah, Cheerleader" from Jack.
"Just like old times, eh, Commander?" Joker asked, nudging Alex's shoulder with his glass. "Garrus and Tali, and Grunt kinda looks like Wrex if you squint a bit, and Samara – well, Liara would never dress like that. Pity."
"No, she wouldn't," Alex murmured, taking a contemplative sip of ice brandy. After a moment, she pushed her chair out and stood. "Sorry, Joker," she said, sliding the chair back in. "The brandy's hitting me harder than I thought. I think I'll hit my bunk."
"Oh, shit. Sorry, Commander, shouldn't've brought her up," Joker replied hastily, standing up with an effort. "I know Illium was tough –"
"Jeff." EDI's projected avatar somehow seemed to scowl at him. "Be quiet."
"What?" Joker protested. Alex waved EDI off.
"Make sure no one drinks too much," she instructed the AI, disappearing to the aft of the ship – to the elevator. Joker sighed, sitting slowly back down and taking a drag off his beer.
"How does she expect you to stop us, anyway? You've got no arms," he grumbled after a moment.
Part 2's all typed up and ready to go, though I won't be uploading it for a few days. I'd like to get a head start on my uploads for once.
Oh, just a note for those who were wondering: PCV stands for Private Corporation Vessel, since the SR2's technically not an Alliance ship. I think. I'm probably wrong, but oh well.
If you like my writing, if you hate it, if you want me to apply for a book deal or never pick up a pencil again - review and tell me!