Prologue: Revelations
There is a beautiful saying amongst the Irish peasantry to inspire hope under adverse circumstances: "Remember," they say, "that the darkest hour of all is the hour before dawn." - Samuel Lover, 1858
Shepard
Surrender had never been an option. No matter the loss, no matter the pain, no matter the challenge. He knew he had been an inspiration to his comrades and later to whole societies. He had never retreated and never given into the salvation of simply stopping to fight. When he had seen the Reapers devastate Thessia, there had been such a moment of weakness, a moment of being overwhelmed by those huge machines and by the sheer and unstoppable force they resembled. Yet again his choice had been to continue the fight, one more rush at the enemy, one more shot. And another, and another.
He had never allowed failure, not for his team and not for himself. His body had been burned by the Reaper beam, his bones shattered, his skin and flesh riddled by so many shrapnels. Even then he had gotten to his feet again to walk into the device bringing him aboard the citadel. He had faced his mortal enemy, the Illusive Man and emerged victorious once more. He had seen his friend and mentor Anderson die.
It all had been for nothing. The Crucible did not fire and the Reapers still slaughtered the forces he had amassed to fight them. He crawled forward towards the panel, but his body betrayed him. Was that how it was bound to end? Everything that could be done had been done, but was it still not enough? For one last time he tried to get back to his feet, to continue the fight. He had defeated Reapers, Collectors, indoctrinated Specters even. Now gravity defeated him. The numbness in his legs let him fall to the floor. Through his radio he heard the slowly fainting attempts to contact him, voices telling him nothing was happening. He couldn't help them now. It was over.
He closed his eyes. The floor was cold and he felt like he was moving up. His eyes sensed a bright light even through his closed eyelids. The last seconds of life appeared to be as they were always described.
He smiled. Death came as a release.
Past conversations echoed in his mind. He was gone. And yet this comfortable and childish voice telling him to wake up didn't seem to come from the inside. "Wake up." He blinked. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light and for his circulation to come to life. He saw stars in front of his eyes, the effect of enough blood rushing through his head and optical organs again. But there were real stars too and the battle he remembered. Was this death? A mere continuance?
"Wake up." The words did not sound impatient, yet not particularly friendly either. He pushed his hands against the floor and got up on his knees. A figure of light resembling a little human boy stood before him. Maybe this was eternity after all.
"You are the boy from Earth. You died."
"Death as you experience it is a concept unknown to me," the child answered. "The boy you refer to is indeed dead, but your subconscious does not find the strength to forget him."
Shepard remembered. The boy who had played with a toy spaceship on Earth, shortly before the initial Reaper attack. The ex-filtration shuttle the boy had gotten onto had been shot down.
"I couldn't save him," Shepard said and coughed. He tasted blood on his tongue. The figure of light just stood there and looked at him. "Where am I?"
"The Citadel. It is my home."
Not dead. He felt some life come back to his body, felt the blood flowing through his veins. A moment later the feeling in his limbs signalized that his body had not yet broken down completely. His legs hurt savagely, but he managed to use them again. He got up on his feet.
The boy still looked at him, although not expectantly. He just stood there and looked. "Who are you?"
"I am what you refer to as The Catalyst. The Citadel is my platform," answered the boy.
With life, hope was coming back to Shepard as well. Maybe he was just where he had wanted to go all along. Maybe victory was not impossible yet.
"I... I came here to stop the Reapers. I need your help."
"The Reapers are mine," the boy said dryly. "I control them. They are the solution."
All Shepard knew or had believed to know about the Reapers and the Catalyst began to crumble. If what the boy said was true, victory over the greatest enemy of the galaxy might have been futile from the start. A flash of pain struck though his body and his eyes filled with tears. Pull through this, John. No surrender, no retreat.
"A solution... A solution to what?"
"They are the solution to an inevitable event. I was created to monitor and control their mission. Once galactic civilizations reach a certain point of technical development, a conflict of synthetic and organic life occurs. This conflict would always decide in favor of synthetic life, leading to the extinction of all organics throughout the galaxy."
He listened as good as he could. His head was still heavy from pain, his senses blurred by the loss of blood. A bigger shrapnel had pierces though his armor and had ripped open his side. He held a hand to the wound and pressed as good as he could, but the bleeding didn't seem to stop. "You... you destroy developed civilizations and spare the younger ones," Shepard concluded.
"Correct. Eons ago my creators faced the initial conflict between synthetic and organic life. I am their solution. They became the first entity to which you refer as Reaper. Since then I watch over the continuity of organic life in their name." Madness was the word that came to Shepard's mind and he had to laugh. His laugh turned into a cough soon and again he tasted the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. "You kill organic life."
"Correct, but not entirely. We harvest organic life and allow it to ascend to a new form, a new entity. Those new forms then watch over those who have been spared, until it is their time to ascend."
Shepard shook his head. "It does not have to be like this. The Geth... the Quarians... they..." He had to violently cough. The boy looked at him for a while before beginning to speak.
"I have noticed their current unity. My calculations tell me their understanding would not have occurred without my intervention and in the event of my absence their conflict would arise once again."
"You can't know that!" Shepard shouted as good as he could.
"My calculations are impeccable. However, I sense that you disagree. Take a look at your own species. Without my intervention during the last cycle, you would have been eventually enslaved by the protheans. My calculations tell me that humanity can not be enslaved entirely due to the power of their wish for freedom. This would have led to the extinction of your entire race by the Prothean Empire."
He was too weak to shout again. The hope he had sensed minutes ago had turned into anger and now slowly was turning into despair. "The Protheans did what they did, because they knew of the threat you posed."
"Speculation. My calculations are impeccable. The calculations of my creators were not, though. I had to alter their mission. Synthetics are not the only threat to new organic life, organic life itself is. Once a civilization has developed to a certain stage it prevents other less advanced organic life from developing further. I ensure diversity and chance. My calculations are impeccable."
Shepard shook his head and hobbled away from the boy, facing the view on Earth and the fleets around it fighting the Reapers. Thousands were dying as he was having this futile conversation with the horrible entity disguised as a boy. "So you kill all the developed species every fifty thousand years to give the development of the others a chance."
"Correct. It is my mission, my purpose."
"Does one of us always end up here on the Citadel, having this conversation with you?"
Surprisingly, the boy did not respond right away. "No. You are the first."
"And the Crucible, do all species build it during every cycle?"
"No. You are the first to complete it." The boy responded. Shepard turned around.
"Maybe we would also be the first cycle to prove your calculations wrong then," he said weekly, feeling life leaving his body more and more every minute. Again, the boy did not respond right away, but took a while. "Correct. Your cycle is special. My calculations are not yet completed entirely."
"You're still calculating what to do, but keep killing... harvesting us?"
"Correct. It is my mission, my purpose. I will come to the conclusion that it applies to this cycle as it has to the others eventually."
Shepard hobbled towards the boy again, the bleeding at his side had still not stopped. "And what happens if your calculations tell you that we would have been different after we have all been harvested?"
The boy took long to respond. Around them, the fighting was gaining heat. "That would be regrettable."
"Regrettable?" Shepard moved closer to the Catalyst and knelt, almost falling down again. He looked the projection of the boy straight into the eyes. "You need to leave this to us. This interference has to stop. It is not your right to continue the cycle. It is our right to find our own destiny... our own purpose."
The boy's eyes were focused on Shepard's. It took the entity a while again to respond. It seemed like an eternity to Shepard. "Imprecision. My calculations are impeccable. Your logic is flawed."
Shepard coughed up more blood, some of it spilled on the floor in front of the boy. "By taking the right of finding our own purpose from us and all the developed civilizations of the past cycles you have done the same thing you wanted to prevent us from doing to less developed species. You suppress our natural development. You have no right to do so."
"Imprecision. My calculations are impeccable. Your logic is flawed," the boy responded. The eyes of the projection of the child were moving rapidly. "You said that already. I have a question for you," Shepard went on. "As unlikely as it appears to you, should your calculations turn out wrong in this cycle or any cycle to come, would that not harm your mission, your purpose?"
The boy looked at Shepard, his eyes moving. "Imprecision!" The boy suddenly shouted and his voice changed. It was no longer human, but a voice coming from everywhere and nowhere on the Citadel and it almost sounded furious. "IMPRECISION!" It shouted once more and vanished, leaving Shepard alone in the room in silence.
Liara
"Shepard, I am yours," she whispered and took a last look at the human she loved before Garrus pulled her back into the Normandy. She knew she could not help him anymore, but she didn't want to leave him nevertheless. The night before the assault on the Cerberus base she had told him that he wasn't facing the enemy alone, and yet not it was only Shepard and a dozen soldiers unknown to him rushing for the beam which presumably was a way to the Citadel. She couldn't leave him alone in this, she mustn't!
"Leave me, we need to help him!" she shouted at Garrus, but he was too strong for her to struggle free. The Normandy moved upwards and the access ramp was closing. She took a last look back, but couldn't make out Shepard amongst the group of soldiers desperately rushing towards the beam, taking fire from the monstrous Reapers.
"Let me help you," Doctor Chakwas said as she came rushing into the deck with two assistants and first aid kits. "How bad is it?" Liara was still staring at the access ramp which was now completely closed. She knew she had almost been hit by a blast and got wounded by shrapnels flying around, but she didn't feel that kind of pain right now. Garrus answered for her. "Bring her to the ward."
"I was going to. You should come along."
"I'm fine," Garrus said, but everyone knew that could not be true. If he was fine he would have followed Shepard, same as Liara. She took a look at Garrus and noticed the huge wound on his right leg. It was a miracle he was still able to stand, let alone having been able to pull her onto the ship.
"You're both coming with me. Doctor's command. You two, help them."
Chakwa's assistants each helped Liara and Garrus walk, although Garrus struggled and told them he could walk on his own. Liara felt her strength leaving her and was grateful for the help. It was not only her body that was weakened, it was her soul as well. Years and years of fighting to this end and now she had left Shepard alone. Tears filled her eyes.
She remembered the first real conversation she'd had with the Commander. It had been on Therum, a remote mining world in the Knossos system. During the excavations the miners had found traces of ancient prothean technology and she had come to study them, despite knowing of her mother's apostasy at that time. When the Geth attacked Therum to find her she had become careless and had managed to get trapped in a prothean stasis field, just to be found by Shepard in that desperate situation. She'd probably heve been killed or captured by the Geth and later indoctrinated by the Sovereign, if the Commander had not chosen to follow the thin lead he had and found her. When she had told him he and his squad wouldn't be able to get past the energy field separating them and her, he had plainly answered that he'd find a way.
"How did you get in here?" she would later ask.
"We used the mining laser to burn a way through the rock," the Commander had answered. "Of course..." She didn't know what to think of this human back then, but her first impression had persisted all along the way – he always found a way to achieve his goals.
She had sensed the Commander to be a special creature right away, but was convinced when she explored his mind aboard the Normandy to find and help interpret the images he had gotten from the beacon. At first she'd thought her fascination for Sherpard sprung from the prothean memories he had received, but she'd soon found out that it had also been fascination for the man he was.
Oh – she had still been so young and naive back then. 106 is not old for an asari. She wasn't much older now, and yet the three years that had passed felt like thirty. She hadn't become much older physically, but far more mature in spirit and mind. She had seen more death than most people would ever see in their lives. More death than people should see. She had faced one desperate situation after the other, gained new friends, lost them again. She had become incredibly powerful in many ways, had fallen in love, had been forced to make tough decisions. She remembered the words her mother had once shared with her. "It is said that the future is always born in pain." She had forgotten how they continued, though.
When the doors of the elevator closed, the pain in body and mind overwhelmed her and the world faded into darkness.
James
"Curtain fire, cover the heavy weapons!" he shouted. The Brute which had just ripped a marine apart in the air and knocked another one to the ground was closing in. James had been fighting those cabróns all night, but with packs of other tangos closing in from all sides it became more and more difficult to see the giants coming. But one had to see them coming, or else. Once they were too close, it was too late.
"Edwards, are you going to blast that pendejo now or not?" James jumped into cover next to the heavy weapons specialist, who was getting his rocket launcher ready. "Right away, Sir!"
"Well get to it!" Covered by the curtain fire of the squad, James and Edwards got to their feet and targeted the Brute. While James took shots at Husks rushing at their position, Edwards took out the Brute with a rocket. It was a direct hit and the giant's right leg and arm, as well as parts of its body were ripped off. It was still alive and struggling on the ground, but unable to pose a threat anymore. "Good shot soldier!"
"One of many to come, Sir," Edwards replied. When he had just finished his sentence and was beginning to fix the rocket launcher to his back, he was grabbed by a Husk from behind some debris. "EDWARDS!"
The heavy weapons specialist struggled, but got pulled down to the ground by the creature and James failed to grab him quick enough. "FUCK! Get it off me! Get it off me!" James jumped forward and tried to grab the Husk's head when a projectile hit him in the shoulder and threw him to the ground. "MIERDA!" Probably due to the amount of adrenaline in his body, he didn't feel any pain, but got a quick look at the flank he had ordered to curtain fire. It was breaking down, being overrun by Husks.
His senses came back and he grabbed for the Husk next to him again. This time he was able to grab its head and turn it around violently until its spine broke. It stopped moving and James got up. "Edwards, get up, we need to pull back!" Edwards didn't move. During the struggle, the Husk had ripped the soldier's throat open with its bare hands. One flank had been overrun, the others would soon be. "Fuck!" There was nothing he could do here to hold the line anymore. "Pull back! Everyone, PULL BACK!"
He started running to the different positions his men were taking cover and trying to hold the line. He told them to fall back in order, while shooting at random targets. He knew he'd lose many soldiers retreating, but he'd lose all of them if he stayed. He radioed the command center. "This is Vega, we're being overrun, pulling back! I repeat, we are pulling back!" There was only random noise at the other side of the line. "Puta madre! Dying here now is as good as dying somewhere else later!" He threw away the radio and aimed at a random enemy. Around him, his men were retreating. Two more Brutes came closing in. No soldiers with rocket launchers were left, so this was probably it. James aimed at one of the Brutes and began firing, although most of his bullets seemed to bounce off the target. "Got to hell, got to HELL!" He shouted while wasting thermal clip after thermal clip, desperately firing at his superior target.
And then it exploded into pieces. Shortly after the first one was gone, the second followed. "GET DOWN!" He heard a strange voice shouting. He threw himself to the ground and covered his head with his hands. The noise became almost unbearable, but it sounded like a couple of explosions and heavy weapons fire above. The next moment it was over and James only heard the distant but omnipresent sounds of battle again, as well as a sharp peep in his ears.
"Well, this is either the best, or the worst day for a heroic rescue," said the strange voice. James rolled onto his back and beheld the face of a turian. He blinked, but then recognized him. "Victus?!" James extended his hand and the turian helped him up.
"It's Primarch Victus, but I guess I can make an exception this one time."
James took a look around. Victus had arrived with a platoon of turian and human soldiers, as well as half a dozen MAKO tanks. They had devastated the approaching enemy lines and the area seemed to be clear and secure, at least for the moment. "Had worse coincidences than you rolling through here today, Sir."
The turian smirked. "It's a good fight. Plenty of opportunity for a good death."
"I'm fine with that if it goes for those Reaper chuscos," James replied, feeling the stabbing pain from his shoulder wound for the first time. "They say Commander Shepard has reached the beam," Victus casually replied. Shepard, you old bastard. I knew you'd make it. But why were they still fighting? Shouldn't it be over now? Shouldn't at least something happen?
"We need to give him more time, for whatever he's doing up there, soldier. Are you and your squad members ready to team up with us?" Victus continued.
"You can bet your bony turian ass on... We're ready, Sir."
Victus nodded shortly and handed James the rifle back he had picked up earlier. "Good. I've heard of a group of Banshees not far from here. I'd say we pay them a visit."
Shepard
He way lying on the floor again, on the back this time and by choice. He watched the battle around the Citadel, which clearly went in favor of the Reapers. He'd always known it would. The fleets had not been assembled to defeat the enemy by force of arms, but to delay them. To delay them until the Crucible could dock and fire. To delay them long enough for someone to get to the Citadel and set things right should anything go wrong.
The Catalyst had vanished what felt like a lifetime ago. Shepard had lost the sense for time, but at least the bleeding at his side had stopped. Grand. Now he would have more time to powerlessly watch his allies being destroyed. If this was all a big joke by the Universe, he didn't like its humor. But then, maybe he had expected too much. He should have known gunfire, diplomacy and being unyielding wouldn't do the trick every time. It had done so until now though.
Was his own logic really flawed? Maybe the Catalyst was right. Had Cerberus succeeded in its plans, had people like the Illusive Man succeeded, humanity would be the superior species and use this superiority to oppress the other civilizations. But then, Cerberus and the Illusive Man had been stopped.
The asari would have had the option to control others as well. Shepard had learned so on Thessia, when Kai Leng had snatched the beacon data from him. The asari had kept their knowledge about the protheans to themselves, or at least that's how it looked. But they had not used it to oppress everyone else, rather the opposite. The asari had always been the ones promoting peace and understandings.
No, his logic wasn't flawed. The Catalyst was wrong, but Shepard realized he had no means to make it understand. And with his doubts, the figure of light returned.
"I am unable to finish my calculations."
Shepard recognized the voice almost instantly. The figure did no longer resemble the boy from Earth, but an old friend. A projection of Ashley Williams looked down at him. "I have told you they are wrong."
Ashley stepped closer to Shepard. "Not wrong. Impossible to finish. Too many variables. You shouldn't be here. The Crucible shouldn't be here. Your cycle has achieved things it should not have achieved. Impossible to finish." The Catalyst's voice had changed form, but also sounded calm and neutral again. And it also didn't take any special time to respond anymore. If it had something as a mind, it was made up. Shepard got to his feet.
"The Reapers are still fighting. If you can't finish your calculations, you should stop them."
"I can't," the Catalyst replied.
"I thought you said you control them."
"I do. But my coding does not allow suicide. If you want this to end, you will have to stop me."
Shepard wanted to laugh again, but he was too tired and weak for that. For over three years he had worked to no other end but stopping whatever caused the Reaper threat. "Help me then. Tell me how."
Ashley nodded. "I will provide an interface you can use." She walked a few steps though the room which appeared to be a dome embedded into a formerly unknown part of the Citadel. Right now it provided a perfect view on Earth and the fight around the blue planet. Next to the projection of Williams, a console accelerated from the ground. Shepard hobbled forward. "Is there a reason you always resemble the dead whom I failed to rescue?" He didn't even know why he asked that question, his mind was probably perplexed by all the physical damage his body had taken.
"The boy was a projection of your subconsciousness. I have taken this form to help you let go."
He stopped and stared at the ghost of the comrade he had to sacrifice on Virmire. "Let go of what?" The Catalyst didn't answer the question. Instead, it pointed towards the console. "The Crucible is not an invention of my creators. Due to this instance, it has limits to what it can do in combination with the Citadel."
"I can destroy the Reapers."
"Correct. However, this option would include destroying all synthetic life throughout the galaxy. That would include the Geth and other synthetic entities. Some organics have been altered with synthetic parts, which would be shut off as well. You, for example, are partly synthetic, although my calculations say that choosing this option would lead to a 83% chance of your survival."
Survival. He wasn't really feeling better, but the big bleeding had stopped and he could still walk. The notion of being able to pull through this gave Shepard back some hope. Destroying the Geth though didn't seem right. "Any other options?"
"The Crucible will produce some kind of effect in coalition with the Citadel and send it through the galaxy using a chain activation of all Mass Relays. The energy burst will be huge, however, and likely damage the Relays in the process. It would be possible to use the Crucible's burst to alter the DNA of all creatures, combining synthetic and organic life to a harmonic whole." Shepard was stunned by the thought.
"You can do that?"
"Correct. In a way it is the same technology we used to alter the DNA of organics to create the units you refer to as Husks, Brutes and Banshees." The projection of Ashley replied. "My calculations show that this option has the greatest chance for a sustainable peace throughout the galaxy."
Shepard shook his head. "It would also mean enforcing some kind of evolution on all beings. I can't make that decision for them. We have managed to unite the species by diplomacy and friendship, they do not need to be united by this kind of force."
The Catalyst looked at him for a while in silence, but soon continued. "The last possible and useful option my calculations have come up with is merging yourself with us. You would have to leave your physical form behind though."
"What do you mean by merge with you?"
"We embody the voices and thoughts of all those who have been harvested to create us. Billions of individuals ascended to a new form of existence, serving in and as a super conscience. I am their nexus and thus able to alter their activity to fulfill my purpose. Without being able to complete my calculations though, I have lost my purpose. An omnipotent being as I was created to be can not be proven wrong without becoming obsolete. You as an individual have proven me wrong. And you have been the individual who has lead other species throughout the galaxy to prove me wrong."
Shepard interrupted the Catalyst. "Does that mean you admit our cycle is special and can overcome the failures of the past ones?"
The projection of Ashley shook her head. "I was merely unable to irrevocably predict by calculation that your cycle would fulfill the prophecy my creators have predicted for any cycle. However, my purpose is to preserve life in the long run. I can not continue with my work until I can be sure my way is suited best for that end."
Shepard's head starting hurting again. He had trouble understanding exactly what his choices were, but he knew he had to chose. "If I merged with you, would I be in charge?"
The Catalyst nodded. "You would enter a new form of existence. Being in charge as you sense it would no longer be present. To say you would be in charge is an explanation that comes near to what will happen though. We would become one. My code would be expanded by your memories, your way of thinking. What you deemed best for the future of this galaxy and its inhabitants would happen."
"I could save them."
"You could stop the Reapers from harvesting and fighting. If you still wanted this upon gaining the knowledge and views of my creators. Correct."
"But I will die."
"Correct. Your physical form will vanish. Also, your new form of existence will make direct interaction with other beings as you know it impossible, from what I was able to predict."
Shepard stepped closer to the console. Strangely, he was feeling stronger again, knowing he still had a chance. Everyone still had a chance. He could end it here and now. He looked upon the console and its strange symbols, but for some reason he knew which commands he'd have to enter to trigger one of the options he had been given.
It would be easy. A few commands, a single decision would change the fate of the galaxy forever. Deep inside of him, he knew what he had to do. He stood over the console and stared at it, hesitating. He thought about Liara. How he had first met her, about their time together. About how they had dreamed of being at a remote and peaceful place in the universe together. About family. He remembered how much he enjoyed looking at her face, remembered the last time he touched her skin when he ordered her and Garrus to get aboard the Normandy to be rescued from the battlefields of Earth. He thought of their nights together, of her kiss, her soft yet wise words.
He could have her back. Have all he had thought of with her again in a galaxy free from the Reapers, a united and peaceful galaxy. Did he not deserve this? All the fighting, all the lives he had saved and would yet save. It had always been the others first, never him. Did he not deserve to return to her embrace victoriously? To live the rest of his life with the person he loved and all the little blue children they'd have?
His thoughts got disturbed by an Alliance destroyer exploding quite close to the Citadel, even shaking this huge structure slightly. Shepard gazed into the blaze of fire outside in space. How many lovers who had been on that ship would never see their loved ones again now, because he had been lost in thought? How many mothers and fathers would not see their daughters and sons returning home?
And with every second he waited, more and more individuals throughout the galaxy died, not only on Earth and not only humans. Geth. EDI. "But only now do I feel alive. That is your influence." The former VI of the Normandy had told him that, just before the last run for the Citadel beam.
The questions were all answered. The path was clear. Shepard grinned. "Chose this form to help me let go, it says." Shepard shook his head and took a last look at the Catalyst.
"This better be no kind of trick."
"Does it feel like one?"
"No."
"Correct," the projection of Ashley said. Shepard turned his attention back to the console, but his fingers knew what to do. Be began entering the necessary commands. During the process, he was even able to close his eyes. He didn't know why, but he knew what to do.
He pictured Liara T'Soni as good as he could, standing in front of her many monitors on the Normany, smiling the most beautiful smile Shepard had ever seen in his life.
"Don't weep because it is over, Liara," he whispered. "Smile because it happened. Goodbye, my love."
Liara
Her view was blurred when she slowly woke up and the first thing she saw was Garrus who was reluctantly being examined by a medical assistant, while fumbling around with a communication console at the wall next to his sickbed. "Welcome back," Doctor Chakwas approached her.
"How long was I gone?"
"Only a few minutes," Chakwas replied. "You'll be fine, you will need some rest and..."
"BE QUIET!" Garrus shouted and shoved the assistant away from him, turning up the volume. It was Joker speaking. "This is crazy! Whoah! All the Reapers, they have stopped firing! Repeat, the Reapers have stopped firing!"
Garrus jumped from the bed, but nearly fell to the floor in pain. His leg had been patched up as good as possible in the short time. "Don't even try to stop me," he plainly said to the group and walked towards the door. Liara stood as well and followed him. Doctor Chakwas nodded to her assistants and followed the two. "Let me at least help you walk!" Garrus was rather furious, but reluctantly allowed the Doctor to support his bad leg. Liara still felt a lot of physical pain, but ignored it for now. The Reapers stopped firing? Shepard?
They took the elevator to the Command Deck. Joker was obviously already celebrating in his chair and had the Intercom of the Normandy open. "Woohoo, we made it! See EDI, I told you Shepard would kick ass, as always!"
Garrus put a hand on Jokers chair when they all reached the bridge to relieve his leg. "What's our status?" he demanded. Before Joker could reply, EDI did. "The Reapers have cased their fire. I am getting reports from various command posts on Earth that their ground troops are retreating as well."
So this was it? They had won? Liara couldn't believe it just yet. "What about other battlefields?" she asked.
"Negative. I am getting no reports of ceased fighting from Thessia, Palaven or any other place via interstellar communication. I am however picking up massive amounts of energy from the Crucible."
"It's off the scale!" Joker added.
"This is Admiral Hackett, to all fleets, retreat and get as much space between you and the Citadel as possible, repeat, all fleets retreat." Joker adjusted his cap and shut the channel down. "Yeah sure, now that the Reapers are just floating there without defense he orders everyone to run away. Fat chance!" He worked on the control panels and the Normandy began accelerating towards the Citadel.
"What are you doing?" asked the Doctor. "I'm getting Shepard out of there, that's what I'm doing."
"Energy off the scale, but apparently still rising," EDI reported. "The Citadel will blast any minute now."
"All the more reason to go there fast, eh?"
"Jeff, all data implies that the energy levels will spike before we reach the Citadel – the Normandy will not be able to survive such a blast. Radiation on the Citadel will be lethal by now," EDI added. Liara was stunned. Shepard. Was he still on that thing? The Reapers had stopped their attack. He must have been the one who had stopped them. And if he did, he had probably taken the same way back to Earth he used to initially get to the Citadel. Or not? No, he would. He found a way. He always did.
Garrus took a closer look on the sensor readings of the Normandy as well and moved his hand from the chair to Jokers shoulder. "Jeff, we have to leave." Everyone on the bridge knew what they had to do, knew that they had only one option. No one found the strength to force Joker though.
After another few seconds, the pilot's expression changed from the always cheerful to a most miserable one. "Damn it," he gasped and turned the Normandy around. "As far as I can tell, energy is spiking," EDI said.
"I'm powering up FTL. Jump in three, two, one." The slightest moment before the Normandy accelerated to FTL, a blinding light struck them all, obviously coming from the Citadel. It was an unnatural blue light that seemed to pass through the walls of the Normandy and through all the people inside it as well. It even caught up with them during FTL and shook the Normandy violently around, as well as ripping her from FTL travel.
The following hours had been hours of waiting for answers. Some systems of the Normandy had burned through by the blast and the core needed some repair as well. It was nothing serious though, as Tali had reassured everybody. When the repairing was done, they returned to the Citadel, finding it intact. The Crucible had taken severe damage by some force though and was floating in space nearby. Once communication was back up as well, they learned that the blast had burned all the FTL engines of the fleets, but that most of them could be repaired soon. Some ships had already returned, some were still on their way.
Soon after they also learned that the Mass Relay was damaged. Its rings were floating in space, ripped apart in the middle. "Long range sensors picked up the direction of the massive energy blast from the Citadel," EDI explained. "We have only experienced its echo. The biggest part of the energy appears to have been fired directly at the Mass Relay as a beam, overloading it in the process."
"We have gotten similar reports from other parts of the galaxy," Joker added. "This echo appeared in all sectors and the beam jumped from one Relay to the next."
"What about the fighting?" Liara inquired.
"Once the echo had reached a system, the Reapers and heir forces have ceased fighting and started retreating," EDI answered. "There is something else the sensors are picking up. It is hard to believe."
"Hard to believe? I thought your sensor readings were impeccable," Joker joked. "I don't think anything is," she replied.
Liara couldn't believe the two of them joking around in such a moment. "Would you just tell us what is going on?" she said, more unfriendly than she had intended to.
"The Reapers seem to repair the Mass Relay. I am getting similar reports from other systems."
James
Well done, loco. James thought while listening to Hackett's speech. The Admiral had found it appropriate to give that speech on the Normandy and having it broadcasted to Earth and the rest of the fleet. It was appropriate. It was mainly about Commander Shepard's bravery after all.
While Hackett praised the bravery and spirit of the Commander, James couldn't resist but to think about the bloody fighting on Earth again which had just stopped a week ago. He and his squad had teamed up with Victus' to engage a bunch of guarras. "Guarra?" Victus had asked him. "You mean Banshee." James had snorted, "I call them guarras. It fits."
"What does it mean?"
"Bitches."
"Oh. Yes, I presume that fits. For a human."
They had found the guarras and started fighting them, but those things had just been too powerful. James could still hear their screams in his head. He'd probably never forget them again and dream of those horrible noises every night for the rest of his life. In the middle of the fight there had suddenly be a bright flash of light and he'd first thought someone had called in the nukes. "Hah, about damn time!" But it had not been a nuke. It had been a strange blue blast of light that seemed to pass through everything. It had somehow tickled on and under his skin, but it had also made the Reapers stop. The guerras had gone silent, the Husks had stopped. They had even allowed James to simply shoot them while standing there.
A few moments later, all the enemy forces had began retreating to the Reaper ships near the Citadel beam. Victus had first ordered everyone to fire at will and to deal the most damage. While that had worked on the ground forces, the Reaper ships still had their barriers and shields up, but didn't do any offensive actions either. Once they had picked up all their remaining ground forces, they took up for the sky again. This did not only happen in London, but around the globe. No one had really known what was going on, but it had felt like victory.
And still did. A bitter victory. When the Reapers had left, the Citadel beam had gone off as well. Some egg-heads had found the slightest energy signatures from the shut down Citadel though and traced it back to the place where the beam had supposedly lead. A rescue team had found a bunch of chambers, one with the charred remains of Admiral Anderson in it, and another dome-like chamber behind it, with nothing but a dead console in it. In any case, Commander Shepard was nowhere to be found, not even the slightest hint of him. It was like he had simply vanished.
"Our scientists tell us that it will take a while for the Reapers to repair the Mass Relays, and in any case we have to remain vigilant to find out whether they have truly ceased fighting, or are only preparing for their next strike. Some of them have returned to Earth and started repairing the most vital infrastructure there as well, so we may as well believe this is victory.
Many brave men and women haven given their lives during the past weeks and month to fight for this end. The price they have paid will not be forgotten. There is no greater sacrifice than the sacrifice all those brave souls had to make, but had it not been for the bravery and early insight of one man, all those sacrifices would have been made in vain.
We will most likely never find out how Commander Shepard managed to convince or force them to cease hostilities, but we can almost be certain now what he had to sacrifice to achieve this: His life. All we can do now is honor him and all the other sacrifices by rebuilding what was lost and even more important, by preserving what was gained: Unity. Hackett out."
The public communication channel was closed. It was crowded around the CIC. The crew of the Normandy was there, as well as Admirals and Captains of the several fleets assembled. Hackett stepped down from the spot in front of the galaxy map and walked towards James and his group, which consisted of all the companions who had fought side by side with Shepard. Kaidan Alenko, who had survived the battle. Garrus Vakarian, one of the oldest companions of the Commander in the conflict. Urdnot Wrex, who was almost looking sad – for a Krogan. Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, the quarian mechanic who'd always been loyal and faithful to Shepards mission and his decisions. Jack, the Subject Zero, who had whispered 'Fuck' more than once during Hacketts speech. Javik, the prothean warrior who was not so mysterious and adorable after all. EDI, who James had always thought of as the ship itself, but was surprised by the actual sad look on her face now. Faked or not, he was sure even the Normandy would weep for its greatest Commander and now had a way to do so. And of course Liara T'Soni, who was looking down.
Admiral Hackett directly approached her. On the way, one of his adjutants handed him a long object wrapped in cloth. When Hackett handed it over to Liara, she looked up at him. "I believe your parting ceremony should be more private, Dr. T'Soni," the Admiral said. Then, he sprung to attention. "A-TEN-HUT!" he shouted and saluted to T'Soni and the rest of the squad. The whole room followed Hackett's lead. James did so as well. Although he had fought side by side with the Commander, the others he was now saluting to had done so way longer. And mainly this was to Liara, who more than anybody else shared the horrible sacrifice Shepard had had to make.
Dr. T'Soni nodded to the Admiral. He turned around and addressed the people in the room. "At rest. I believe it is time to return to our duties now." While all the other Captains and Admirals returned to their shuttles, the squad went for the elevator to get to the memorial wall. Dr. Chakwas, Specialist Traynor and Adams followed as well. It was silent as a grave when the elevator started moving one deck down.
Liara
They had all assembled before the wall. Liara knew what Admiral Hackett had given her, folded in cloth with an Alliance emblem on it. It was a metal sign reading 'Commander J. Shepard'. She'd place it in the middle of the wall, right above the sign that read 'Admiral D. Anderson'. It had been put there a few days ago already. Rescue teams had found Anderson's remains. The search had continued for a while, and although Liara had urged everyone not to give up yet, she also knew that one week would have been enough for Shepard to get in contact.
She still couldn't believe he was gone. Although he will have known that this last mission might well come with a one-way-ticket and Liara had known so as well, it was hard to bear. And yet it was a small price to pay for the end of the Reaper threat. Liara was sure Shepard would have thought the same in his last moments.
She stepped forward and turned around before the memorial wall, facing her friends and companions. She had prepared a speech during the past days and knew it by heart.
"John Shepard was an extraordinary person. In his language, the words that prevent people from achieving their goals during their lives did not exist – No way, impossible, give up, take a rest.
He never took a rest. He never gave up. For him, nothing was impossible. He always found a way."
"I still remember the first time we met," she continued, looking into the sad eyes of all those who had been together with Shepard and her from the start, or some when along the way. She realized that telling his story wasn't necessary. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she laughed softly.
"Oh, listen to me, telling a story. You all know how he was. It's like telling you Garrus does not know every bar on the Citadel."
"The galaxy, you mean," Garrus said, and they all laughed softly or at least grinned. Way better, Liara thought. Shepard wouldn't have liked a ceremony that drowns in despair.
And with that thought, she cast away her rather lengthy speech. "Shepard once told me goodbyes should be like declarations of love: Quick and easy." She pulled the cloth from the metal sign and beheld the letters. She didn't mind a tear dropping onto them. It was in that moment when she remembered the rest of the words her mother had once shared with her. It had been on a warm day on Thessia, shortly after the First Contact War between the humans and the turians. Not a child anymore, but still so very young, Liara had asked her mother why there is always war somewhere in the galaxy and whether it would ever end. Benezia had smiled slightly and said the words.
Liara looked up at her friends again.
"It is said that the future is always born in pain. The history of war is the history of pain," she quoted. "But if we are wise, what is born of that pain matures into the promise of a better world, because we learn that we can no longer afford the mistakes of the past."
Everyone nodded. Liara knew she had never met an individual who had incorporated this truth better than Shepard. She turned, faced the memorial wall and attached the sign to it.
And she smiled. "Goodbye, my love."
