Bioware owns us all...
A flash of flame…a scream of terror…the sounds of crew running for the escape pods…all of these would have driven any individual to panic…but Vera Shepard simply pushed the distress away…she'd done this before…moving through Akuze as her men died in agony around her. Sometimes if she sat very still, and everything was silent…she could still hear their screams echoing in the back of her mind.
Akuze had almost succeeded in breaking her will…but she had refused to die, and she refused to die now. The Normandy was exploding around her…her ship…her home. To a spacer…any ship was home…but the Normandy had been different, and seeing her beloved vessel falling apart was slowly killing the Commander's soul.
She had launched the distress beacon…had done all she could to give her sanctuary a fighting chance, but it had all been in vain…and now her pilot was refusing her orders. Dying ship or not…Joker's defiance was going to be addressed.
She managed to crawl through the smoke and flames to the stairs, standing as the emergency lights kicked in…causing the corridor to glow a deep red, Vera wondered if hell would look this tragic…
She moved up the stairs, gripping the hand rail tightly as the ship shuddered, the Normandy had fought with all it had…and even amongst the final death throes the ship was making sure it's ending was anything but quiet. That's my girl…Vera caressed the wall she leaned against before moving on.
As she pulled the doors to the CIC apart the Commander was faced with the brilliance of the cosmos…
The ceiling had been blown clean off…leaving the CIC open to the great gleaming orb that was Alchera…Vera had occasionally seen glimpses of inky blackness from the tiny windows of her ship, but she had never been faced with the full view…she felt microscopic…a tiny speck of existence amongst the vastness of space, she felt…alone.
She glared at the magnificence…stared down the planet that seemed to glow brighter amid the explosions of her ship…Alchera was mocking her. You failed… the planet seemed to whisper to her. She felt her upper lip curl into a sneer as she glared through her helmet's visor. Turning her attention away from the stars she examined what was now left of her combat deck.
The galaxy map, she recalled how it used to swirl under her fingers, rippling like water as she plotted courses…it flickered pitifully amongst the mangled wreck of the platform she used to stand on, watching over her crew as they worked around her.
The once glowing screens of the stations surrounding the central command center were now permanently dimmed…casting eerie shadows about the room. She moved towards the cockpit.
Her magnetic grav boots held her feet to the floor, slowing her down; it felt like walking through sand…the chairs that had lined the catwalk floated in the air, like clouds as she moved closer. Vera gently pushed them away, noticing the ghostly slowness at which they parted from her. A small shiver twitched across her shoulders.
She saw the blue shimmer of a kinetic barrier at the entrance to the cockpit…or Joker's sanctum as she had liked to call it. She could see him hunched over the controls…the once soothing orange holographic panels were now flashing a brilliant red as the galaxy's best pilot tapped away furiously at commands the ship was no longer able to follow.
She passed through the almost invisible barrier, the sensation leaving an aching chill to her bones, even through the heating system of her combat suit.
"Joker…" She lightly placed a gloved hand on his shoulder, not surprised in the slightest when he shrugged away from her touch.
"No…I'm not abandoning the Normandy, I can still save her!" He growled as he continued to type out the same commands he had been issuing to the ship for the past twenty minutes…it seemed he was completely oblivious to the alarms screeching at him that the ship was no longer listening.
"The Normandy is lost Jeff…going down with the ship won't change that." She was sympathetic towards his angst…she was going through the same thing…but there was a harsh tone to her words that sliced the air with finality…Joker knew that if he didn't listen to her she would drag him from the controls. He also caught how she called him by his first name…she only ever did that when they were in the direst of circumstances.
"You're right…okay, help me up." Vera did not like how his voice became monotone…his emotionless eyes staring up at her began to remind her of an Elcor. The Normandy was Joker's life…the only thing he had…and she had just issued a kill order. This was going to scar…and that wound was never going to heal.
She moved to raise him from the chair, careful of his brittle bones. A dull shriek rang out through the stillness, and Joker slid back down into his seat. "They're coming around for another attack!" He cried, just as the unidentified ship's golden laser sliced clean across the bridge to the cockpit, cutting the Normandy in half.
She quickly hoisted Joker out of the chair, pulling his arm across her shoulders. "Ow, watch the arm!" He cried as she half dragged him towards the escape pod. Vera rolled her eyes as she pulled her pilot along, not that he could see it through her helmet. She shoved him in, moving to follow as the keening wail of distressed metal erupted behind her, alerting her of the lasers return.
She turned slightly as the galaxy map exploded, the force pulling her out of Joker's reach. "Commander!" He cried as she gripped the wall. It was then Vera knew she wasn't going to make it…this was it. Her number was up…All of her luck had run out and now her life was over, she found peace in that. She knew she had lived far longer than she should have…she should have died gasping while her flesh dissolved on the surface of Akuze, following her men.
Turning to her pilot's manic gestures she smiled at Joker, So long Jeff…it really has been an honor to know you. His face was a mask of horror through his visor as he screamed her name, realizing her intent.
"Shepard!" He shrieked through his comm. Vera shook her head at him as she pressed the launch button for the pod. She saluted him as the doors slid shut in his face.
Another explosion tore her grip away as the pod launched. Vera allowed her body to be carried away, moving through space reminded her of swimming in the ocean…and she allowed her body to drift along the waves of the sea.
She now had an up close and personal view of the destruction of all she held dear…Vera decided it was sweat dripping down her face…she wouldn't cry…she hardly ever allowed herself to cry.
As she continued to float she noted the explosions had stopped…the other ship had moved off, its mission accomplished. I hope you get a hull breach from a shard of my ship you bastards… she thought darkly, as her mind vaguely registered a soft hissing sound from behind her.
It was a noise that had been drilled into her brain from basic; the noise of one's oxygen tube severed…the noise of one's lifeblood vanishing into the black.
Vera had trained for this…she had already accepted her death, she had found peace among the wreckage of her ship, dying with the Normandy…that was how it should be…the way of things. Even though her brain had registered defeat…her body refused to give up, adrenalin surged and panic coated her mind in a hazy fog. She blindly reached behind her, wasting precious gasps of oxygen as she struggled, trying in vain to reconnect the tubes to the tank… Feeling her body weaken…her breathing slowed…each tiny inhalation a final act of defiance from her lungs. Of all the things that could have registered as her final thoughts…the only one was a memory…
Benezia's eyes went distant…her soul already somewhere else, "No light…" She whispered, "They always said there would be a…" The life vanishes from the body…the matriarch is no more…
. . .
Jeff Moreau had very few skills…on land. Give him any vessel; any piece of scrap that could get in the air and within moments it would be dancing through relays with the same grace and efficiency as any five star alliance cruiser.
He had been grounded though…why he wasn't exactly sure…nor did he care. What bothered him was that Vera Shepard was gone…and no one really seemed to care.
He didn't just want to be back in the air, he wanted to be back under her command. Yes she had been a hard ass…but that was what he liked best about her. From the moment she had learned of his disability, her behavior and treatment towards him hadn't changed. She had actually pushed him harder than everyone else…and he had thrived. Now he had nothing…nothing but anger and hate towards the Alliance who basically abandoned Shepard amidst the ice and snow and scrap metal.
And she would still be yelling at you now if you had just gotten off your stubborn ass and gone to the escape pods… He grit his teeth, hands balling into fists.
"Mr. Moreau…" He turned from the observation window; he had gone back to Arcturus after rescue…it had been his home before the Normandy had come into his life. It didn't feel like home anymore…but it was better than Earth…being on Earth would have driven him beyond the point of madness.
"Who are you?" He stared at the brunette woman walking towards him...if things weren't so dire he might have taken the time to fully appreciate her hour glass figure, or how her uniform seemed to cling in all the right places…but as things were his eyes never left her face.
"Miranda Lawson, I need to speak with you…" She shook his hand, "My boss, needs to speak with you…"
. . .
Miranda Lawson stared at the husk before her…trying to believe that they possessed the technology and resources to revert it back to its original human state. Right now the mass of flesh and bone barely resembled a humanoid figure…no signs of gender…they had been fully relying on DNA scanners. According to their scanner this…thing…was Commander Vera Shepard. The woman who saved them all…the galaxy's lone hero…assumed to be lost forever.
Getting her remains had been absolute hell…and Miranda felt doubt creep into her mind as she walked around the operating table. Was the cost worth it? Did they go through all that…for nothing?
The doors to the lab hissed open and the sound of heavy boots thudded against the chrome floor. Miranda turned, hand outstretched for the data pad Wilson was about to give her. He had kept her waiting…
"Is everything ready?" She highly disliked the scientist…something about him just set off all her red flags. The Illusive Man had assured her he was the best of the best…but she couldn't deny her gut feelings about the man…Wilson was trouble.
"Yes…she's not much now…but give me time." The man was cocky…overconfident. Miranda hated that. She was not against being sure of one's abilities…but Wilson had yet to prove he could get the job done…and until he did his confidence was going to be met with cold indifference.
"Well then…get started." Wilson rubbed his hands together as he looked over the body. Smiling to himself as he reached for a scalpel, the sharp clacks of Miranda Lawson's stiletto heels fading into the background as she exited, leaving him to his work.
. . .
Pain…indescribable…searing agony…no sound…no sound could convey the pain…her lungs pumped furiously for much needed oxygen, her eyes flying open, closing shut immediately upon being blinded by the harsh white light in her face.
Voices…there were voices…what were they saying? Something about time…too early…she was awake too early…awake from what?
Soft hands brushed tense shoulders back, Vera feeling the bite of the cold metal table at the back of her head. A face…indescribable beauty stared down at her, ocean eyes holding her attention for the briefest moment before panic consumed what was left of her consciousness.
The face…the beautiful face was speaking to her…muffled voices rising, getting louder, almost a shriek…
She was an angel, Vera was staring up at an angel…but if this was heaven why was there so much pain?
Pressure in her wrist…ice flowing from the injection given, filling her veins…numbing her terrified mind.
The angel faded…darkness consumed. Sleep…let me sleep…let this end.