"The mission's yours!" Anderson shouted over the wind blowing through the Normandy's cargo bay. Nihlus jumped from the door moments prior, and my HUD showed our drop site approaching. I stepped between Lieutenant Alenko and Corporal Jenkins, out backs to Eden Prime.
What a mess Eden Prime was. I had never been there, but people knew it as a verdant planet of greens and blues. Today we saw none of that- the sky was red, the grassy fields ablaze. Tracers slashed through the hair at unseen targets, lighting up the clouds. Where normally there would be breeze blowing through the trees and over the fields there now was hot smoke screaming toward out-of-control grass fires at the base of the arcologies that housed the colony's population.
Whatever hit Eden Prime hit it hard. I hadn't seen an attack like this since the Blitz, and those were not memories I cherished.
I still remembered the smells- blood, that sharp smell of burning metal, the stink of sweat and terror. Marines on shore leave lay in pools of their own blood: eighteen- and nineteen-year olds just out of basic cut down before their careers could even begin. I was the only one left, Carter had only moments before been killed by a sniper.
Inside the doorway I made my peace and charged a new thermal clip into my rifle. The raiders would be coming for city hall, for the government. There were police, but they would stand as little a chance as the Marines caught without their armor then lying dead around me. We'd done what we could, they could never say otherwise- the brave Alliance Marine defenders fought to the last to hold the planet.
Alenko snapped be back to reality. "Commander?"
"Let's roll," I replied, turning to face the ruined planet.
I awoke in a cold room, my hands and feet numb. It felt like someone had kept my head in icy water, thoughts came slowly and never fully developed. I blinked but saw no clearer.
Where am I?
Why had I expected differently- my lips refused to work as well. I began to panic, my body senseless and my mind slowed to a halt. A hand raised ever so weakly, but the exertion was too much and it fell back down.
What happened to me?
Something buzzed around in my head, some alien force it felt like. Every time I tried to think it disrupted everything- feelings of terror and suffering, pain and hate, images of fire and twisted metal. I grimaced as I saw it again and again, a repeating nightmare. My mind focused on one image in particular: the geth flagship.
The thing towered over the planetscape, taller than the arcologies crossing Eden Prime's sky. It had a distinctly alien quality I couldn't identify, something vast and horrible. Thinking about it gave me a headache.
A bright light ignited somewhere, in front of my eyes or behind them. I couldn't tell. All at once-
The concussion grenade nearly knocked me insensate, burning away chunks of my fatigues. From my back I could see them- pirates, raiders, whichever- company-strength at least. Advancing over the old roadblock, laughing at the bodies of my friends as they cooled in the street. Shooting the wounded.
My rifle bounced to a stop several feet from my hand, I snatched it up. The batarian at the head of the column saw me immediately and shouted. Rounds snapped through the air, hitting pavement and sending up jets of hot chips of asphalt and metal. I felt the shrapnel embed itself into my arms and legs but couldn't stop. My rifle spoke its lethal response, drumming out shot after shot, planting two batarians and sending a human to the ground screaming. The rest dove for cover.
"Shepard, can you hear me?" someone asked from across space and time. Was it Dr. Chakwas, the Normandy's medical officer? Was it the corpsman who saved my life after Elysium, Dr. Wachtman? I couldn't differentiate the voices.
Again I saw the great black menace that had burned half of Eden Prime. Immense triangular body, thick legs, unearthly red static discharge. The way it seemed to warp your mind by looking at it…
My head throbbed again, sending my conscious mind reeling. I felt like I was dying.
One person couldn't take on a company. I knew for a certainty that the skies over Elysium would be the last thing I saw, that the smells of burning metal and flesh would be the last things I heard, that the screams of the dying and the enslaved would be the last thing I heard. Perhaps most terrifying to me, failure would be the last thing I ever knew.
I managed to run back to the capitol building, an ornate stone structure built to mirror old Earth government buildings. Stone fell off the building in chunks as mass accelerators smashed into the wall by the hundreds. There was nothing but a cacophony of cracks and snaps and that low, monotonous trill of assault rifles.
"Twelve hours, now," the voice interjected, clinical and cold. "No sign of major physical trauma, but mentally there is something going on. Look at these brain activity readings…"
That slideshow- groaning metal, burning bodies, tearing flesh, fire, gunshots, terror- flashed through my mind. I felt a deep, primal fear coming from my very bones. A groan escaped my lips as I lay immobilized on the bed, and again came the light.
"Shepard?"
They've breached the capitol, I heard the guttural batarian voices calling across the rotunda. This is it. I lunged from behind a pillar, firing short bursts into the nearest pirates. They caught the rounds and dropped heavily, their weapons clattering away. A curse, returned fire. I escaped behind the reception counter and grabbed the sidearm of a deceased security guard. The moment the fire slackens, I rose and fired the pistol and the rifle, the latter all but useless as the recoil sent rounds everywhere. The pistol dropped two, wounded.
Behind the next pillar I tossed the burned-out pistol to the floor and vented the assault rifle's heat directly into the air. Footsteps on the marble floor- they've come for me. I spun around the stone and dropped to a knee, avoiding incoming fire as I sprayed a burst into the waistline of the nearest batarian. Another human caught his falling comrade and momentarily exposed himself- I fired three rounds into his forehead and left two more bodies on the ground.
"How many more?"
"What did she say?" the doctor asked, leaning in. "Shepard, what did you say? Can you hear me?"
My faculties began to come back to me. I could see more, now. A silhouette appeared in the light, a soft figure I recognized as Dr. Chakwas. In her hands was a device of some kind, it beeped plaintively.
"I think the Commander is waking up. Fetch Captain Anderson."
At least six or seven still stood. My last stand. The rifle fired so hot that the barrel deformed, rendering the thing useless. It was a club, nothing more.
I remembered a biography I read in the academy, that of General J. L. Chamberlain of American Civil War fame. The thought came to me like a lightning bolt. His men had no ammunition to survive another Confederate assault at Gettysburg, but he had to hold the line or risk the entire Army's flank being taken. I had to hold the line or lose Elysium to slavers. Then-Colonel Chamberlain issued a single order to his men- "Bayonets!"
Modern rifles did have bayonets, omni-blades generated from under the barrel. I had nothing else. I activated the omni-blade and waited as they approached. They crossed a threshold, their movement slow as they searched for me. I inhaled and closed my eyes, gripped the rifle, and charged.
"Shepard, wake up," a deeper voice said. A second shape loomed between my eyes and the light. The two of them seemed to swim in and out of clarity until a heavy hand clasped my shoulder and brought me back. "Shepard."
I managed to croak a single word: "Anderson?"
My CO offered a faint grin, a narrowing of his lips if nothing else. I could tell he was not pleased as soon as I looked at him. "What do you remember?"
This is where I had trouble. Thinking of Eden Prime brought back bits and pieces. That behemoth that scorched the place, the bombs we'd defused, Jenkins- oh God, Jenkins- the geth… it was all so disjointed. My head ached horribly and the exertion made it worse but I had a duty to perform, I had been asked a question by my commanding officer.
As it came to me I relayed to Anderson the expedition onto Eden Prime. The most important segment, I thought, was the dock worker's tale regarding the turian who killed Nihlus. Something didn't click- what was a second turian doing on Eden Prime, why did Nihlus let his guard down enough to turn his back on this turian? Why did the name Saren ring a bell?
It seemed to do more than ring vaguely familiar to Anderson. A shadow crossed his face as he backed a step from the sick bay bed I laid on. "Saren? You're sure?"
"That's what the man said," I confirmed, rolling my head over to keep my eyes on him.
Anderson cleared his throat. "Saren Arterius is a Spectre, one of the Council's best. If he was behind this attack it was an act of war. We need to talk to the Council to get to the bottom of this."
I could see why this disturbed him. A Council Spectre attacking a human colony? It would certainly provoke a war, but once again something didn't fit. "What about the geth?"
"What about them?" Anderson asked, pausing.
Not without some effort I organized my thoughts, speaking deliberately. "It doesn't make sense that the geth would hand over the keys to a ship like that to a Council Spectre. The galaxy at large hasn't ever made any diplomatic overtures to the geth, not that I know of. They've always been quarantined beyond the Veil. Why up and follow the Council all of a sudden?"
"Commander Shepard raises a good point," Dr. Chakwas added. "I'm gratified to see no lasting harm appears to have come to your higher thought processes."
"Do you remember why you're in sick bay, Shepard?" Anderson asked. The Captain strode across the room and opened the door, ushering in two more people: Lieutenant Alenko and the Marine I'd found on the surface, Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. Williams and Alenko entered and stood at attention inside the door. "You blew up the beacon, Shepard. Tell her, Lieutenant."
Alenko stepped forward. "When I approached the beacon to secure it I was grabbed by some kind of energy field, maybe a security device. You saved me, Shepard, by sacrificing yourself to throw me out of whatever it was. Whatever it did to you caused it to overload and knock you unconscious."
"How long was I out?"
Dr. Chakwas replied. "Fifteen hours, roughly."
"I'm going to need everything you've told me in writing," Anderson said, making for the door. "When you're well."
"Sir," I called, deciding that he should know about what the beacon... showed me, for lack of a better term. "When the beacon exploded I saw something. I saw... visions of death. Synthetics slaughtering people, maybe the geth. I couldn't say. I can still see the images in my mind, they're... burned into my memory, I think."
Anderson looked curious, his one eyebrow cocked just a hair above the other. "You've had a vision from this beacon?"
"Yes, sir," I said. "I can't say for certain but I think the beacon was set up to transmit a message, and tens of thousands of years later the message finally got delivered- to me."
"We'll have to discuss that with the Council as well," Anderson stated. "Try to recall what you can as best as you can, every detail is important."
"What do I tell them, that I had a bad dream? They'll laugh at me before they take a vision for truth," I said, all of a sudden feeling a little depressed about the situation I found myself in. No one knew what I knew, how could I articulate it to anyone at all?
On the other hand Anderson looked determined. "It's a Prothean beacon, Shepard. No one knows what was inside of it, no one except for you. They have to take you seriously. Get some rest, Shepard. We have a hell of a day ahead of us tomorrow."
I managed a salute as he left, collapsing back to the pillow with a soft grunt. Alenko approached, stopping at the foot of the bed. "How are you doing, Commander?"
Despite my condition I offered a wan smile. "Like a krogan stepped on my head."
We shared a laugh, awkward and sickly as I felt. I felt for sure that he was laughing out of politeness, but didn't say anything. I enjoyed the moment, aware that being close to my crew was important. People who followed you would do their duty, people who loved you would die for you. I clearly didn't love any member of my crew in the personal sense- fraternization was frowned upon, of course- but I felt close to them.
Jenkins' death weighed heavily on me at that moment. I realized that the crew's "younger brother" was back on board in a casket, not on his feet. We all liked him, and we all would miss him. As soon as I was well enough I'd compose a note to his family, though I feared for their safety as well. He spoke quite often about his childhood on Eden Prime. I had to try, though.
The others seemed to notice my growing distant, and I snapped back into it and looked up at the Lieutenant. "Sorry."
"No worries, Commander. You took a serious shock planetside, you should rest," Alenko replied, before leaning in closer. "Thanks again for saving my life. I owe you one."
"You don't owe me anything," I said, laying back again. "I was doing what any commander should do."
I got a look that said otherwise, but I felt so spent I didn't press the issue. Instead I let myself drift off into an uneasy rest. My head still throbbed and I still saw disjointed visions of twisted metal and death, "uneasy" is a generous term for the tossing and turning, groaning and yelling that I did. Dr. Chakwas spoke afterwards about her flirtation with sedating me, but in the end she decided against it.
When at last I did wake up I found the sick bay empty and dark. With great effort my feet found the floor and my hands pushed me vertical. Walking, it turns out, is a difficult thing to forget and a harder thing to remember. Unsteady as I was, I managed to get to a locker with my clothes in it and change.
My cabin was as I left it, and in my footlocker I found my datapad. I still had a job to do. My fingers began to tap at the screen, slow at first but more steadily after that.
Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins,
I hope this finds you well, as I have seen firsthand the destruction done to Eden Prime.
It is with sincere regret I must inform you of your son, Corporal Richard L. Jenkins, has died in the service of the Systems Alliance and of humanity itself...
After the Blitz I had to write dozens of these letters, but they never got any easier. I felt connected to the people I fought with, and losing them felt like losing a family member after knowing them as long as I knew Jenkins.
By the end of the note I was fighting back tears of my own. Jenkins had become like a son to the crew, a youthful guy full of ready smiles and a joke. War seemed to claim people like Jenkins first, it seemed a cruel side effect of it all.
I finished the note and saved it, ready to submit to Anderson in the morning. We would be at the Citadel by then, beginning a whole new chapter to this story: politicking with the Citadel Council. I did not look forward to testifying against their man Saren, being an outsider as I was. I hated being discounted or distrusted, and both were almost certain to happen tomorrow.
Resigned to my fate, I picked a book out of my foot locker and opened it up. I loved the feel of hard copy books, the smell of old paper, the whole experience of it. I spent hours reading that night, unable to sleep for fear of the dreams of death that the beacon imparted on me.
I gave instructions to those near me and crawled back and in a few seconds the 2d Company and I were rushing impetuously to the south. It was a case of do or die. We overran a weak enemy in the clumps of bushes before he knew what had hit him and in no time we had gained more than a hundred yards.
Rommel's words hung in my mind. Do or die, he wrote more than a century ago. Something about the phrase stuck, and I couldn't help but connect it to the beacon dream. I felt that whatever I saw was not an image of the past, but of the future. My feelings solidified into a sense that I must do something about them or die, but I had nothing to go on.
Hopefully on the Citadel I would find answers. For now, I read on.