IV. History

Military regs were military regs. Even after integration into the greater galactic community and numerous exchanges of personnel and technology with their neighbors, the Systems Alliance navy still put quite a bit of stock in its traditional formalities.

On this day, however, the crew of the SSV Aconcagua were allowed to cut a little slack, if only to make up for being stuck in deep space operations in the back end of nowhere on a major public holiday.

From the elevated vantage point of her own cabin – she'd insisted on this one, instead of a better-protected one deeper inside the ship – the commander of the dreadnought examined the festive preparations below.

The big ceremony would be on Arcturus Station, of course, but the men and women of the Aconcagua were doing a damn fine job of making sure the local celebration invoked the same solemnity, even up to the miniature confectionary replica of the Peace Monument itself that Chief Powell had somehow managed to construct out of standard shipboard rations.

She knew the monument by heart, could trace every contour of its smooth, slick form. It was the same ship she had served on when it fought the Reaper vanguard, from even before the rest of the galaxy knew it was at war.

The Normandy was instrumental in saving the galaxy and a powerful symbol of unity for both humans and turians alike. New generations who had not been born under the shadow of the First Contact War mingled freely with their erstwhile enemies, and it wouldn't be much longer until it all faded into textbook past.

A past where General Williams of Shanxi garrison was a footnote, while his granddaughter's name was respected across hundreds of worlds as a hero of the Reaper War.

It sometimes still rankled that granddad had tried so hard to do the right thing and been rewarded with disgrace and ignominy, while she, who had simply been in the right place at the right time, had gotten recognition that she probably didn't deserve.

The heap of survivor's guilt didn't help, either. The photographs on her desk stared back at her. One of them was a clear family photo, from when dad was still alive and the kids still… well, kids. The other was a lopsided snapshot from one of the Normandy's security cameras. On a race against time to save the galaxy, nobody had really thought to take pictures, so it was the best she had.

Some of the old family and friends were still out there, and others were with God now. All she could do was hope that her commander had been right, that there was a place in the world where she could make a difference. That even though she didn't always feel up to the job, she could still do right by them.

Rear Admiral Ashley Williams raised her glass, gazing out at the stars to a place long ago and far away.

"There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail..."