Back again! Thank you for the reviews and for all the favorites and follows. If you are new to the story, feel free to jump on in! I'm sure if you've played the games, you'll be able to follow along without reading the first story (though you're always welcome to read it!). I should have put this in the first chapter, but here is my general disclaimer: This story is my take on the ME series. Some things will be different. Some characters will not survive. Like the ME series, there will be drama and heartache but also triumph and romance. If you're into that, I hope you keep reading!
This fic has been beta'ed by the knowledgeable AnneRene. Thanks lady!
All copyright belongs to Bioware; I'm just taking a spin through their universe.
Chapter 2
Garrus had been trapped in the office waiting room for two hours. Two hours! All to get a simple signature from Ambassador Vellia. The first of five. He grumbled as he walked down the street, staring at the holo in his hand. The Hierarchy certainly did not make it easy to transfer authority.
Someone bumped into him and Garrus turned, a smart comment already on his lips. But the human male did not seem to notice, running for one of the screens that lined this part of the Presidium. In fact, a small crowd had gathered there, drawn to whatever news report was happening.
Garrus had never had much belief in 'raminis,' what humans called a 'sixth sense.' He trusted his gut instinct when in pursuit of a criminal and that was that. But something twinged deep inside him and he frowned, watching as men and women, human, asari, turian, all races, crowded around, exclamations of shock and horror beginning to echo down the street. He turned slowly, eyeing the crowd, his mind working quickly. What would interest the different species? His omnitool pinged but he ignored it, walking toward the screen.
The image shifted and he stopped dead in the middle of the street, causing someone behind him to curse. He knew that ship. He knew that face.
Her enlistment photo was superimposed on an image of the Normandy. She looked so young. Black hair pulled back into her bun, a smile in those blue-grey eyes, no scars on her lips and cheek. Commander Marion Shepard, missing in action. That's what the subtitles on the screen were telling him. But how? How was that possible? He had just seen her, held her, teased her. She was supposed to be back next week. She was just on a routine patrol!
He felt the heat of anger stir in his body but his blue eyes stayed narrowed, focused on the report. Normandy destroyed by unknown vessel, rescue crews working to recover escape pods. Shepard among the missing. Presumed dead. The rest was drivel, as the reporters told every fact they had dug up in the last five minutes, true or not. The events on Akuze, her reluctant biotics, her pursuit of Saren, her conviction in the existence of the Reapers, her heroism, her bravery, her dedication.
They knew nothing.
What about the way she drew everyone around her into her orbit, like a blazing sun? Her accuracy with a pistol, the beauty of her warp as she hurled it at an enemy. That crooked grin, the way her scar pulled at her lip just slightly when she smiled. The way she touched people's lives, interfered in their business, made them reevaluate everything about themselves and what they believed.
Why didn't they talk about that? Why are they even talking about her at all? Shepard's a survivor, above all else. She would have found a way to survive this attack. She was probably hidden somewhere on the planet's surface, planning how she would take out this unknown enemy. And she did not break her word easily. She had promised to see him next week. He had to believe she would come back.
He had to.
Joker came to in his escape pod, a red emergency light blinking steadily. He groaned, feeling battered and bruised—and broken. He cursed loudly as he moved his arm. Definitely broken.
He must have hit his head against something, because blood had dried across his left eye, making it hard to open. He won that battle eventually and looked around.
At his empty pod.
"Shepard!" he yelled suddenly, scrambling to release himself from his harness. "Shepard!"
The beam, slicing between them. Her eyes, focused behind her helmet. Her hand, hitting the release panel. Joker grabbed a breather and opened the hatch. The cold air hit him hard, and he wrapped his good arm around his body.
Snow blew across the open plain he had landed on. In the distance, he could see smoke, likely from another crashed pod. Too far for him to investigate. There was no sign of the downed Normandy. He felt a pang in his heart at the thought of his beautiful ship burning but he was too focused on his omni tool, trying to patch into any local channels.
"This is Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau. Can anybody read me?" There was some static, some garbled words. He felt his heart race. "Shepard! Can you read me? Come on, Shep, you said you'd kick my ass. I'm waiting!"
A female voice finally came through, but not the one he was expecting.
"Joker! Turn around!"
He limped around the side of the escape pod, tripping slightly in the snow. Ashley Williams was running toward him, Dr. Chakwas behind her. Both women were pale but seemed uninjured. Joker tried to register that that was a good thing, but all he felt was a rising panic that neither of them was Commander Shepard.
"Joker! You're ok!" Ashley threw herself at him, hugging him tightly. He winced and cursed but didn't fight the contact.
"Careful, Ashley, his Vrolik's Syndrome," admonished the doctor, though her brilliant green eyes were wet. "Are you injured, Joker?"
"My arm," he muttered. As he backed away, he pulled off his cap, tugging at his hair for a moment, then replacing the cap, his eyes constantly swiveling around.
"Joker. Where's the commander? Where's the Skip?" asked Ashley, starting to frown.
Joker's throat was tight and he did not answer, his eyes dropping to the ground, his weight shifting in the snow. Chakwas froze. "Dear Lord," she whispered.
Ashley looked at the doctor and then her sharp brown eyes swung back to Joker. She swallowed tightly.
"Joker. What the hell happened up there? Where is the commander?"
"She saved my stubborn ass," he muttered. "And I got her killed for her trouble."
The wind blowing in between them was the only sound for several long moments.
"What. Does. That. Mean," Ashley growled, her face going from pale to red. "Where is she?" She shoved Joker back against the pod, making Chakwas cry out in surprise. Joker said nothing, even as his broken arm hit the side. He just stared at Ashley, his eyes full.
"Where is she, Joker? She can't be dead! She can't! She said today was not her day!" Ashley's voice was growing raspy, even as she yelled, gripping his shirt in her fists. "She's Commander Shepard, for Christ's sake! Savior of the Citadel, first human Spectre, survivor of Akuze and every other piece of shit this galaxy has thrown at her. She's my friend! She can't be—gone."
Her voice trailed off hoarsely. Her hands released Joker and she stumbled backward, bracing herself on her knees. Dr. Chakwas was crying silently behind her.
"We were going for the escape pod. That ship came back around for another pass. They hit the CIC. She got me into the pod and released it. The last I saw of her—there was an explosion. She, she got, spa-spaced." Joker's voice failed him and his good hand rubbed his eyes, as if he was trying to block out the image.
Ashley struggled to get her breath and then just gave up, slumping to the ground and kneeling in the snow. Chakwas' breath caught and she turned away, closing her eyes as she let the wind sweep over her. From behind her, Ashley whispered brokenly into the snow.
"Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace."
Tali'Zorah vas Neema walked down the hallway, reading the latest report her father had sent her. He was on a scouting expedition, observing geth near their lost homeworld, Rannoch. He was obsessed with finding a way to return the quarian people to their home. Tali did want a home there someday. Right now, she would be content to just have her father be home. She had seen him for a week's total since her return from her Pilgrimage over five weeks before.
"Tali!" She turned, brow furrowed as young Suma'Yuzh nar Jolarm ran toward her, weaving in and out of the crowded hallway. Her red hood made her stand out from the more common greys and blacks around them. "Tali! The admirals near to see you, immediately." She grabbed Tali's hand and began to tug her back down the corridor.
Tali jogged behind her, slightly alarmed.
"What's going on, Suma? Is it the geth?"
"No, I overheard them whispering," panted Suma. "It's about your old captain. Shepard."
Standing in front of the available Admirals, Tali felt her knees tremble. They were trying to tell her something important, but it was like her helmet was blocking any and all comprehension.
"I'm sorry, Admiral. Can you repeat that?" she asked slowly, her eyes blinking rapidly.
Admirals Shala'Raan and Zaal'Koris exchanged a glance. "We received word from the Alliance. They thought as a former member of her crew, you deserved to know as soon as possible," began Raan gently. "The Normandy was attacked in the Amada System. The ship went down on the planet Alchera. Commander Shepard is missing in action. The unofficial report from her crew is that she went down with her ship. She's gone, Tali."
She's gone, Tali. Those words reverberated through her head and Tali lifted her hands to her head, almost as though she could stop the truth just by blocking out the sound.
"I know this is hard to hear, Tali'Zorah, but the Alliance has requested your presence at the Citadel, to help sort through any information recovered from the Normandy's computers," said Zaal'Koris. "It is an opportunity of inter-species collaboration that we cannot afford to pass up…"
"Shepard's death is not an opportunity, you bosh'tet!" exclaimed Tali, one finger pointing at the stunned admiral. "I am going to the Citadel, but it's to help search for her and bring her home, not to listen to more of your opportunistic schemes." She turned and stormed out of chambers, ignoring Zaal's cries of outrage.
"Lila," she said coldly into her omni tool. "I'm calling in my favor. I need a small transport to the Citadel. Now."
One week later
Cleon and Nate had just settled into their prefab in Strawbridge Colony. Their neighbors, an older couple, seemed kind. Life here was quiet. Gentle rolling hills, a young forest all around them, plenty of land for clearing. Cleon had been hired as an engineer for the colony; it would keep him busy but was hardly the pace set on an Alliance base. It was a place of peace, something they both sorely needed. Nate was beginning to come out of his shell. He had yet to call Cleon 'Dad'; he wasn't sure he ever expected him to. But he had stopped calling him uncle at least.
Cleon wandered over to the window, looking out at the courtyard in between several prefabs. A few of the local kids had already surrounded Nate, that awkward dance of feeling out the newcomer beginning. One little girl had sat down right next to him on the bench and was chatting away. There was a hint of smile on Nate's face and Cleon nodded, feeling gratitude for that moment. He would be all right. Here, in this place, away from all the memories, he would be all right.
They had been traveling for several days and then spent two days settling into colony life, unpacking their new home. There hadn't been much time for anything else. Cleon allowed himself five minutes to sit on the couch that had come with the prefab, groaning as his body sank into the pillows. Grabbing the remote, he turned on the console and began flipping through the few channels the colony received.
"Have you tried…"
"…I can't believe you allowed…"
"In other news, the search has been called off…"
"…services for those lost in the Normandy disaster…"
Cleon felt his whole body stiffen and he sat up, flipping back to that channel. The sober faced reporter was still speaking, but Cleon struggled to make sense of her words.
"Representatives from all Council races are expected to attend the services. The Council released an official statement yesterday, saying that 'the loss of Commander Shepard to the galaxy is incalculable. Her determination, loyalty and sense of honor are to be commended. The Council will always be in her debt. We pledge a full investigation into the loss of the Normandy and recommend that anyone traveling near the Terminus Systems exercise extreme caution. Justice will be sought, for Commander Shepard, her crew, and for this galaxy, which is a darker place without her.' The Council has not released any details from the destruction of the advanced warship but has officially called off the search for Shepard's body. The Systems Alliance has declared her killed in action. It is a dark day indeed."
Cleon turned off the console, his mouth dry. "Shit. Rin—oh, Rin." He ran his hands through his hair and let his head hang down. "I'm sorry, Rin. I'm so sorry."
It was an impressive number of people. The courtyard of the Presidium was overflowing with men and women of every race. Most humans were dressed in black and grey, asari in various shades of gold and yellow, turians in their military best. It was a stunning kaleidoscope of colors and faces. But Garrus could take none of it in. As part of the team that had brought down Saren, he was seated in the front rows, with the Council, Udina, the newly inducted Councilor Anderson and the rest of the surviving Normandy crew. Liara T'Soni was noticeably absent but Garrus could not find it in himself to wonder why. Maybe it was too painful for her. It was almost too painful for him. So instead he focused on Shepard's last act of heroism: ordering everyone to the life pods rather than attempting to fight. Only twenty-one dead out of a crew of seventy-two. Given the level of catastrophe they had experienced, it was remarkable.
He had dressed in his very best uniform, his armor gleaming. He only vaguely remembered polishing it last night in his old apartment, mechanically buffing out any scratches. A blanket seemed to have wrapped its way around his head since the day before, when Anderson had sat him down in his office. Finally, someone had been honest with him.
"We're calling off the search," Anderson had said, his voice tired. "We found the wreckage of the Normandy but no sign of Shepard's body. We've been scanning the planet but there are no detectible life signs that we've been able to discover. Lieutenant Moreau said he saw her separate from the ship. If that is so…then there's no way she survived. She would have been pulled down to the planet's surface. I'm sorry, Vakarian. We're declaring Commander Shepard killed in action. She'll be honored with the other dead at a memorial tomorrow."
Garrus shook his head slightly at the memory. The movement jarred him to focus on the present, on Ashley up at the podium, Shepard's picture beside her.
"Commander Shepard was more than my commanding officer," she began, her voice steady, eyes tight. "She was a loyal friend, a fierce soldier, a true defender of the Alliance and of the galaxy. I'll never forget the day I met her."
Ashley swallowed before continuing. "During the attack on Eden Prime, I was scared out of my mind. The geth were in pursuit, my squad decimated. I was alone. And then she came down the hill with Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. She was so calm, so focused. She saved my life that day, and saved the colony from total destruction. I knew as soon as I met her that whatever enemy she faced, she would come out on top. Commander Shepard is a name that inspires respect in those who love her, and fear in those who don't." There was an appreciative murmur from the crowd at that.
"But in the attack that claimed her life, she did not have the opportunity to fight back. It was a cowardly attack," said Ashley, her voice starting to waver. "It claimed her life and the lives of twenty other good men and women of the Alliance. And we will not stand for that. We will honor her memory by upholding everything she believed in and by continuing the fight against her enemies. Commander Shepard gave everything she had to warn us about the Reapers. So we must give everything in return to stop them and any other danger that threatens this galaxy. Because that's what she would have wanted."
Garrus was proud of Ashley's words but from the corner of his eye he watched the Council shift uncomfortably at the mention of the Reapers, saw Udina's deep frown. Oh, so that's how it's going to be, he thought.
Ashley turned to salute Shepard's picture.
"Rest in peace, my friend. I wish you had never had to leave us, but know you left the galaxy in good hands." Then she stepped down from the podium and a human priest of some kind stood and exhorted everyone to stand and join him in prayer. Garrus followed what everyone was doing. He even patted Ashley on the shoulder as she came to stand beside him, tears running down her face. He let Tali lean against him on the other side, a quiet sniffling coming from inside her helmet. But Garrus wasn't really there anymore. His thoughts were on the Normandy, watching Shepard stand by the airlock, a cup of coffee in her hand and a sad smile on her lips as she said goodbye.
Three weeks later
Liara stood over the fallen Blue Suns merc, biotics still lighting up her body. Her drell companion looked impressed.
"I heard you were an archaeologist," Feron commented, putting away his pistol.
Liara stepped back, surveying the back alley. Like the rest of Omega, it was dirty and dark. But for some reason, she had a hard time feeling fear at the sight. She turned back to him. "I was an archaeologist. Now I'm not. What were you saying about Shepard before…?" She gestured vaguely at the destruction she had left behind her.
"The Blue Suns were hired by the Shadow Broker to recover Shepard's body," he said. "As you can see, the Shadow Broker is interested in acquiring her. They found her on the surface of Alchera and put her into a stasis pod. They are trying to deliver her to the Broker, but obviously they are not the only group interested in her remains."
Liara's heart thumped painfully at the word 'remains' and she struggled to ask her next question.
"Why? Hasn't he done enough to her? What does he want with her body?"
"We're not sure, but we're hoping to find out." The strange voice with the unfamiliar accent startled Liara and she spun, her biotics lighting up the alley once again.
A tall human woman strode toward them, her steps lithe and sinuous. She was dressed in a tight white and black uniform, armed, dangerous. But the light of Liara's biotics showed her hands to be empty as she held them up. "Or rather, we know why the Shadow Broker wants her, but not why his buyer does."
"Who are you?" Liara demanded, eyeing the two men who followed the woman. Again armed, but empty-handed.
The woman held up a hand to keep them back. She tilted her head, her thick black hair falling gently to the side. Her grey eyes were piercing. "Miranda Lawson," she finally said. "I work for Cerberus. I'm sure you're familiar."
Liara's biotics brightened at that. "I do not work with Cerberus," she spat.
"Even if it will save your friend's body from the Collectors?" questioned Miranda, still calm, almost arrogantly so.
Liara's eyes narrowed. "The Collectors? Why would they want Shepard's body?"
"We're not sure. But I think we can both agree we don't want Shepard anywhere near them. Especially if it turns out they were the ones who destroyed the Normandy in the first place."
"Cerberus killed her squad on Akuze, nearly killed her. Now you want to protect her? What do you care?"
"That was a splinter group, not one whose activities were monitored by the Illusive Man," replied Miranda, a frostiness settling into her tone. "What happened to Shepard was tragic, but who is to say it did not help make her into the woman she is? That woman is who we both want to save."
The two women stared at each other for another long moment. Finally, Liara let her biotics slowly die, leaving the alley in near darkness. "And why should I trust you?" she asked. "What do you want with Shepard?"
"Cerberus is all about the good of humanity," said Miranda, "and Shepard represented the very best. The Illusive Man believes that the Reapers will return and Shepard's knowledge of the Cipher and the beacons, not to mention her own considerable skill, will be essential to defeating them. She is Ome."
Liara visibly started at that. "How do you know that? No one knows that but her crew."
Miranda smiled slightly.
"The depth of our knowledge would shock you, Dr. T'Soni. As would our plans to bring her back." She stepped closer to Liara, her expression intense. "Cerberus' resources are considerable. Have you ever heard the human parable of Lazarus?"
Liara shook her head mutely, still stuck on the phrase 'bring her back.'
"We can save her, Dr. T'Soni. Cerberus can restore her to life, at great cost and with time. But first we have to rescue her. So I'll ask again: will you help us?"
Six weeks later
Garrus growled and hurled the holo across the room, before backhanding the items on his desk and sending them crashing to the floor. His salarian assistant poked his head in, then scurried out when Garrus chucked a holo at his head.
"Where the hell are they?" he snarled, turning back to the console, where he was speaking to Shepard's uncle Roran.
"I don't know," the older man repeated. "Cleon took up and left. No word, nothing. He and Nate are gone, off to some colony. He did not say where. He didn't want anyone to know."
Garrus slammed the door closed to his office then went back up to the console, his mandibles twitching ferociously.
"So that's it? He just took Shepard's son and disappeared off the grid?" he demanded.
Roran held up his hands. "That's how he wanted it. He's the boy's father, Vakarian, and they've been through a lot. They deserve some peace and quiet."
"But how—" How was he supposed to protect Shepard's son if he didn't even know where he was? Garrus hung his head, leaning against the desk.
"I'm coming out there," he said slowly. "I'll follow leads and figure out where they are. It's not safe for them to…"
"You'll leave my family alone if you know what's good for you," threatened Roran. "Cleon sent a message to Marion telling her his plans. If she didn't make a stink about it, then you, a turian, certainly can't."
Garrus' head shot up at that and he glared. Swiping his hand at the console, he ended the call and pulled open the door to his office. His assistant squeaked.
"Officer Vakarian, a Jeff Moreau has been trying to reach you…"
"I don't take his calls, Ogop," said Garrus darkly. "Where's Executor Pallin?"
"He just returned from a meeting, he's in his office—"
Garrus stormed past him, down the hall to the executor's office. He burst in, ignoring the asari detective sitting in front of the desk.
"I need to request a leave of absence," Garrus said abruptly. "I have some personal business to take care of."
To his credit, the executor barely blinked. "You have four investigations open right now, Officer," he replied. "When you have closed them, you can take a leave. But not now."
Garrus' fists clenched. "Sir, I respectfully request…"
"Your request is denied, Vakarian. You know how this goes. Protocol requires that any open investigations be closed before a member of Citadel Security can take a leave of absence. Is this an emergency? Has a member of your family passed away?"
A muscle twitched in Garrus' face. "No sir," he replied stonily.
"Well that's a relief. I imagine you've had enough to deal with after the loss of your former commander," said Pallin lightly. "Though given the newest reports coming through, it doesn't sound like she was all that stable. This talk of Reapers—it must have been a chore to put up with that nonsense while pursuing an actual criminal like Saren…"
The punch to his face took the executor by surprise and he stumbled backward. The asari detective jumped up, weapon in hand. But Garrus had thrown down his gun in disgust and was now tossing his badge at the executor.
"Screw your damn rules," he growled. "And screw you. I'm done with this place, and I'm sure as hell done with you. I quit."
Turning, he took off out of the office and down the hall, ignoring the yells behind him. He hadn't been able to save Shepard. Now he couldn't protect her son. Hell, he couldn't even protect her damn memory. The media and the Council were determined to erase everything she had done. Fine, then. He was done. He'd find someplace where he could disappear for a while, maybe find something he could actually protect. He'd failed at everything else. She was dead. What did any of it matter now, anyway?
And so we are set for the events of ME2. What did you think? Did characters react how you were expecting? How was Garrus' quitting scene? Please take a moment to leave your thoughts, comments and suggestions in a review. Your support keeps me motivated :)
See you next week!
