I HAVE a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath
I HAVE a rendezvous with Death
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
- Alan Seeger, I Have a Rendezvous with Death, -
2 weeks after the destruction of the SSV SR1 Normandy
Volantis Station
Border edge of Sol System
All things considered it had been a very beautiful ceremony. It was quiet, small and dignified. Comprised of only Alliance personnel, the non-humans in their crew unfortunately denied access, there were no more than twenty individuals. A few key officers that included Admiral Hackett, Shepard's mother, Joker (having managed to sober himself up) and herself. Too bad the body was missing.
Gunnery Chief Ashley Madeline Williams pondered this paradox as she sat at one of the few clean bars that were left on this station. She quietly nursed a bottle of beer, brewed from some colony at the ass-end of Alliance space. It tasted…inoffensive. She was still clothed in her Alliance dress blues, her beret still perched on her head. To any casual passerby she looked the very model of a formal Alliance soldier on leave.
A closer inspection would have revealed tired eyes, worn out from the constant tears. Her lips would have revealed a slight quivering that hinted to some deeply repressed emotion whilst her hands gripped the bottle as if it were her lifeline to sanity.
A large thud caught her attention and a quick glance to her right, revealed the titanic form of Urdnot Wrex who dwarfed his two companions Tali Zorah and Garrus Vakarian.
"Williams." The massive Krogan rumbled as he took in the sight.
"Wrex." She returned, as she got up from her table at approached the threesome.
Tali silently grasped Ashley's hands and Garrus attempted an approximation of comforting smile. Together the group moved towards the small docking bay where Shepard's empty casket lay.
A quick flash of her ID card, no doubt reinforced by the very large and powerful Krogan, scarred Turian and the lithe Quarian standing behind her allowed the group access to the now empty docking bay. Admiral Hackett, after some considerable lobbying from Captain Hannah Shepard, had allowed them access to view the casket before it was fired into the burning mass of the nearby star. We're born in dirt and die in fire. How very fitting…
Silence enveloped the group as they took in the empty casket that was Commander Shepard's legacy. The legendary N7 commando, the destroyer of the Geth, the saviour of the Citadel and the bane of Saren…and all that was left was an empty casket.
"Shepard is not in that." Wrex pronounced, as he gave the casket one heavy thump. The dull echo reflected off the walls in the bay, interrupting the gloomy silence. Ashley was too tired to complain about this offensive breach in funeral etiquette, so she settled for dejected grunt. .
"Keelah, what do we do now?" Tali finally spoke up, wringing her hands nervously. Garrus merely sniffed the air, as if he could divine what cosmic imperative fate had in store for them.
They never spoke again after the casket was fired into the sun. They all went their separate ways. Tali went back to her flotilla, Garrus went back to C-sec and Wrex returned to Tuchanka. A few messages were exchanged between them, but they never met in person again. The last she received was a terse message from Garrus, stating he was headed to Omega to track down a suspect.
Ashley never felt more alone in her life
4 weeks after the destruction of the Normandy
Citadel Station,
Zakera Ward
Ashley Williams woke up in a room that reeked of sweat, piss and worse. Cold metallic walls surrounded her and the ceiling had a recessed light-bulb that blasted harsh, white light over her surroundings. Ah….the local C-sec drunk tank. Not much of an improvement over her temporary quarters, but still it could be worse. She slowly raised herself to her feet and swayed slightly. A sharp lance of pain tore through her skull and she feebly clutched a hand to her forehead.
Vaguely she made out the form of a simple metal chair in the foreground and she tumbled towards it. After what seemed to be an eternity, she stumbled into its hard embrace. Exhausted by this monumental effort, she let her head fall onto the table. Sleep, yes that's what she needed.
But fate begged to differ and a recessed panel in the wall opened up, revealing a very stern Turian police sergeant. His cold eyes took in the pitiful sight of the hung-over human. With a determined pace, he marched into the room and deposited a package on the table in front of Ashley.
"10 minutes, that's all you've got." He growled, his eyes narrowing at the pitiful human in front of him. The Councillor made an exception for her? "There's a fresh change of clothing and a stim pill, I suggest you use it"
With that stern command, the Turian sergeant turned and marched out of the room, the panel closing silently behind him.
Change? Ashley quizzically looked at the package before glancing down at her shirt. A disturbing mixture of blood, vomit and cheap rum stained her off-duty shirt, with one particular stain resting on top of the Systems Alliance Crest. Dad would be sooo proud…
Finally she reached out grabbed the pill and popped it into her mouth. Overcoming the urge to vomit, she swallowed it and almost instantly felt the caffeine hit her bloodstream. Hung over she might be, but apparently she had an appointment to keep.
Quickly and efficiently she disrobed, not giving a damn whether she provided entertainment for a bunch of bored police officers through the transparisteel windows. Within two minutes Ashley Madeline Williams founds herself in the dress uniform of the Systems Alliance Navy. All dressed up for your court martial eh?
Seconds later the panel opened again to reveal the grim sergeant one more. With reluctant wave of his hand, he motioned for her to follow him. They walked through a coldly lit corridor, past the other cells and towards another door. The sergeant punched a passkey into a nearby panel and they continued into the offices. Finally they reached inside a sparsely decorated office and she was motioned into a very comfortable chair.
Awakened by the stim pills, Ashley's mind raced through the possibilities of scenarios she faced. Disturbing the peace, drunken and disorderly conduct? They wouldn't need the uniform for that. Investigation by Naval Intelligence? For what, punching a smug and superior Asari bartender? Court Martial? Meh…not that important enough.
Partly to keep herself from going mad, Ashley studied her surroundings. She was in comfortable, if rather simple meeting room. She sat at a rather ornate round table, made with what appeared to be rosewood. Imported from Earth, oooh! She sat in a leather chair, which sank to a comfortable level. All in all, it didn't seem to an interrogation room
The door opened once more to reveal a new visitor. Instinctually she jumped to her feet and gave a proper salute. Hung over she may be, but her visitor deserved a salute.
Captain, no Councillor David Anderson grimly stared back at Ashley Williams. Every pore of his face oozed disapproval and with a dismissive nod he motioned her back to her seat. Truth be told, aside from a few interactions with the legend that was Anderson, Ashley never did interact much with him. No, most of the Alliance brass kept their distance from her, as if she were an infectious disease that would spread the stain of her family's dishonour. Though Anderson may have simply just been too busy to pay her much attention after recruiting her to the Normandy.
Anderson took a chair at the other end of the table and for a moment quietly studied the dossier in front of him. After what seemed an eternity, he finally spoke.
"Do you know why I recruited you to the Normandy, Chief?" His voice carried no censure, no vitriol. Just disappointment.
"To replace Corporal Jenkins, sir" she quietly responded, her eyes cast downward at the table. She would have preferred to have been yelled or even cursed at, rather than hear disappointment in that voice.
"No." Was the response, sharper in tone this time "If I wanted to replace a corporal I could have chosen another soldier, hell maybe even another N7. But I chose you."
Ashley cringed. A part of her always felt a little shame at her promotion by dead man's boots, despite Shepard's reassurances that she had earned her place amongst the crew of the Normandy. A reoccurring nightmare of hers was that were it not for Jenkin's death, she would have been left on Eden Prime amongst the corpses of humans and geth alike.
But now, it would seem that would be her destiny. In a way, it was like a nightmare come true. No, she would not…could not stand another crap groundside posting, not after what she had been through. She hadn't survived geth ambushes, enraged krogan mercenaries, insane asari commandoes, ghoulish husks and even Saren himself, just to get dumped on some colony at the ass-end of Alliance space. Not when the Reapers seemed ready to break down the galaxy's front door and commit systematic genocide.
"I saw fire," Anderson continued, unaware of her inner turmoil "I saw a Systems Alliance Marine, ready to take up the fight to defend humanity."
Ashley raised her head up at the last comment. If she was to be damned to a crap-posting, this was certainly an odd way about it.
"Perhaps it's partly my fault, perhaps it isn't." Anderson pushed forwards, aware that he had her full attention "What matters is what we do now."
With that he pushed a dossier across the table towards her. It was a rather simple, yet important document. It wasn't a shipboard posting like the Normandy, though she wondered how anything could compare to that ship. It wasn't admission to the legendary The Interplanetary Combatives Academy, though even she had to admit that dream belonged in the realm of fantasy.
Instead it was an invitation to attend the notorious Orbital deployment, Reconnaissance and Assault Academy, located on Benning. Renowned for its tough training and its policy of live-fire exercises despite existing in an era of tactile kinetic simulations, ORA academy was discussed only in hushed whispers.
ORA tested endurance, strength and agility. It demanded wits and fortitude. Only the truly stubborn or mad, even tried getting the S-designation. And Ashley had plenty of those in spades.
Anderson didn't smile or even show any emotion. He simply said,
"The transport leaves the Citadel at 0700 hours tomorrow. Take what you need."
With that he gave Ashley leave.
Codex Entry: Saren Arterius and Matriarch Benezia
Once a celebrated and honoured member of the Hierarchy and Council Spectres, the late Saren Arterius' name has become a source of shame for Turian society after the Battle of the Citadel.
When the full extent of Saren's betrayal to his species and Citadel was revealed and confirmed by the Council and C-Sec, the Hierarchy posthumously stripped the deceased Spectre of any ranks, titles or awards. In a rare public ceremony, the 14th Legion melted the Shield of Traxus, Saren's former medal for extraordinary service to the Hierarchy.
Corporations that once named the later Spectre on their board of directors, came under Citadel investigation for their alleged role in his betrayal. Already under investigation for their alleged role in rachni experimentation, Binary Helix saw its corporate office raided by C-Sec officers, eager to uncover the web of informants and investments that Saren had used. Though experts believe that the loss of Peak 15 will prove to be a hindrance to the investigation.
In sharp contrast the Asari Republics avoided many of the measures undertaken by the Hierarchy. Recovering her body from Noveria, the deceased Matriarch Benezia was buried with full honours in light of her respected role in Asari society. In a public statement, the Council of Matriarchs pointed out that Matriarch Benezia was never formally charged with conspiracy or treason. Whilst many have called for Thessia to unseal its records concerning Benezia's activities, the Asari Republic have resisted such a course of action,