The wind on Alchera was thick with ice and snow flurries, coating everything including Shepard in a layer of ice. The rocky and uneven terrain - Michael wondered if some of it wasn't due to the Normandy instead of the planet's climate and tectonic plates - was littered with metallic wreckage from his beloved ship. It had fallen two years ago, split in half like the ancient Titanic. It was amazing as much of it that was on the surface had made it through the atmosphere after the attack by the colossal alien vessel.
"Even the Alliance left you here." He sighed to himself. His comm was turned off so that no one except maybe EDI (and therefore Miranda) who was linked to every piece of tech on the new Normandy) could hear him. Michael didn't doubt he'd get emotional over this at all. Alchera was the graveyard of more than a ship, but about half of her crew as well.
He began this mission by searching for the dog tags of his fallen soldiers. There were only twenty unaccounted for but they were scattered and hidden under debris and snow. Each time he read the name over and over until he could place the face and was certain he had it memorized. It wasn't difficult. Years in the alliance meant having to learn the name of your new command and subordinates as soon as you began a new post. He already knew these people, like he knew his team on Elysium. Like that team he would remember their names even once their faces blurred together and recite them every time he reminded himself why he fought as he did.
The mission was done with purpose, but not rushed. He didn't run through the snow banks even when he saw the old CIC. Pressley's data pad was a pleasant surprise. He'd realized slowly his XO was coming around on the alien issue but he hadn't thought he'd come around that much. Those dog tags he didn't need to pause over. They went straight into his pocket with a smile and blurry eyes. That was the very last one. The soldiers aboard the SR-1 were finally going home.
The next step was getting the monument placed. It was a ridiculous statue of the SR-1 in mid-flight, but it would appease the brass and future tourists. Tourists... that part was an insult to this place. The wreckage would be tidied up and plaques mounted. Something would be built to protect them from the weather, a gift shop for trinkets and a cafeteria to feed them. People would visit to see the ship that defeated Saren's monstrosity - a Reaper, not a ship - and gawk at what it'd become at the hands of the "Geth".
"Hey old girl." Michael stared up the Mako, torn up in ways even Wrex and Garrus couldn't fix given all the eezo and alcohol in the universe. It had flown through a mass relay, yet it was left in a bone yard to rust in the ice. "I think the honor should be yours."
Shepard waved his omni tool and activated the pallet which would carry the statue from where the SR-2 had dropped it off to right in front of the Mako. This would be the center of the Alliance's "tribute" to the Normandy. Without that tank, the war would have been over before it was even started.
Back aboard the SR-2 Shepard was all business. Suit and weapon dropped off at the armory then straight up to his cabin to defrost and rest for a few hours. Then it'd be on to the next mission, the next fight, the next time he and his ground squad would save the asses of the defenseless or stupid (or both) and the day.
On his way up he stopped in to the bar Cerberus had installed. It was frivolous, completely out of place on a frigate meant for fighting, but it was well stocked and useful tonight. A bottle of whiskey from Earth was taken off the shelf and into the elevator. He leaned against the wall and looked at the label to figure exactly where he might have seen the brand name before. The name escaped though, even when he opened the bottle and took a swig.
"Screw it. It's whiskey and it tastes good. Who cares what it's called."
"Commander, is everything alright?" EDI asked. Her hologram popped up by the door.
"Just fine EDI. Anything to report?"
"The alliance has been notified your mission was a success. The dog tags will be delivered to Councilman Anderson when we are next at the Citadel."
"Good. Dismissed. And EDI, leave me alone unless it's urgent. Tell Miranda and Kelly that."
"Understood Commander. Logging you out."
"Because I logged in to begin with." Shepard rolled his eyes and took a swig again, leaning back into his couch. In his mind he recited the names of Marines who had died under his command. The storm on Alchera continued on far below, covering the new golden statue in a layer of ice and blanket of snow.