WARHAMMER DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. MASS EFFECT DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. I'M HAVING A FLASHBACK EPISODE, BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THE TUXEDO-WEARING LOBSTERS CAME FROM.
I swear, officer, I'm not on drugs! There's just a magic toad-mummy about to enter the mind of a woman from another universe.
Honor-Bound
Chapter 36
The New World, Part 6
"I am a master of the healing arts. I can stitch together a gash with needle and thread just as easily as I can with magic. However, I have never felt so helpless as when General Shepard needed me most."—Parral, Jade Wizard
…
Despite the noise of battle still coming from the city around them, those standing guard over Shepard and Kroak were unaffected. They didn't care, unless the fighting got close to them. The Humans and Lizardmen formed a perimeter, pointedly ignoring the corpses of the Temple Guards that had failed to protect Mazdamundi in that very spot.
Kroak, hunched over as he always was, slowly orbited Shepard's prone form. Magic was gathering around the ancient Slann; it wasn't as overt as the power he'd used outside Hexoatl, but it was potent enough to set the Humans, even those that weren't Wizards, on edge.
"How long will this take?" Locke asked.
When Kroak didn't immediately answer, Parral tried to do so on his behalf while he healed Stormwing. "The General's injuries are to her very soul. The magic required to repair that kind of damage must be extremely precise, and the process will be slow."
"It will also be painful for her," Kroak said, and in that moment, he sounded as ancient as he looked. "I will do all I can to heal her. This world depends on her."
"Is there anything else we should know?" Richter asked. "Anything we should do? Is there anything we can do?"
"During the ritual, I will be vulnerable," Kroak admitted. "You must ensure that I am not disturbed in any way. If I am interrupted, the Fate-Breaker will die."
"All right." Richter turned to the others. "I guess we hold the line."
"No matter the cost," Locke added, then turned to Kroak. "Do what you must. Nothing will pass us."
Kroak stopped orbiting Shepard, pausing just above her head. His throne tilted forward, aligning his empty sockets with her closed eyes. There was a hum in the air, and then a brief pulse that sent everyone staggering.
Richter glanced at Locke. "Did it work?"
…
Kroak allowed himself to revel in half-forgotten sensations. In the mindscape, he was no longer a shriveled corpse, but a young and healthy Slann; he could feel blood rushing through his veins and air in his lungs. It was only an illusion, but it was one of the few things he could look forward to while awake.
After a moment, Kroak focused on the task at hand. In his haste, Mazdamundi had torn the threads of the Fate-Breaker's soul; Kroak would have to find the tears and stitch them together. But the soul was a tricky thing, and actually repairing the tears would be taxing. After examining the residual magic left by his deceased student, Kroak discovered that he had tried to find the hidden truths in Shepard's soul by hammering through more traumatic memories of the realm she came from. Those memories were the weak points of Shepard's soul, where her inner strength was at its lowest.
Kroak noted that, for all her drive, the Fate-Breaker had many such weak points in her life. There were many tears in her soul, which meant many traumas. Not all of them were completely torn through, but enough had been, and Kroak could only repair the damage by experiencing the trauma alongside Shepard. It was an ancient and dangerous technique, one with considerable risk to himself, but Kroak had long pondered the meaning of the plaques involving the Fate-Breaker, and considered it a risk worth taking.
The first tear appeared before him. It was the freshest in Shepard's mind, which meant that it was the most recent. Kroak was slightly apprehensive; he knew that Shepard was from a realm beyond his, and he had no idea what he would find.
What he saw confused him at first. The hallway he saw wasn't made with any materials he was familiar with; a red light was emitted by strange glass panels, but he suspected the walls were actually white or silver.
And then he saw Shepard, and she looked terrible. Her armor was broken, and her body was bloody. She carried a weapon that looked like a pistol, but it was too sleek and thin for anything the Imperials made. She staggered to her feet and spat some blood to the side, and then slowly made her way down the hallway.
After limping her way up a ramp, Shepard—and Kroak—were at the entrance to a wide, circular room. Symbols and text that Kroak didn't understand floated in the air, and what looked like glass, he beheld a burning world. He couldn't see many details of the planet, and strange vessels floated in the void, trading fire with metal creatures that he had only seen in the Old Ones' plaques. They were what Shepard had called 'Reapers'. It was difficult to see who was winning the battle, but if Shepard's anger was any indication, the war had not been easy.
Kroak remembered how Shepard had shouted at him, blaming him—and the Old Ones—for untold suffering. He couldn't even fault her for her anger; it wasn't like the people of her realm even knew that their losses were feeding a weapon that would destroy the enemy of order itself.
Shepard stopped when she saw another Human at the far end of the room, his hands hovering over a pedestal of some kind. He was an older, dark-skinned man; he looked as tired as Shepard, though not nearly as injured. Despite her situation, Shepard smiled.
"Anderson!"
Kroak could sense the center of the tear approaching; whoever this Anderson was, he was important to Shepard. He suspected that the memory would soon show his death, which had likely been a blow to Shepard's psyche.
Anderson turned around, but his movements were stiff and jerky. "Shepard… I can't…"
It wasn't mind control, that much was clear to Kroak. It appeared more like something was controlling Anderson's body like a puppet; though Anderson was fighting the control, it didn't appear to be doing much good. A quick glance at Shepard showed that she was being held in place, likely by the same power.
"I underestimated you, Shepard." Another Human, this one in much better condition, walked up behind and past Shepard. His face was tainted by metallic tendrils, and his eyes glowed unnaturally. Though this was just a memory, Kroak could sense the hatred Shepard had for this man.
The Illusive Man, Shepard's mind supplied.
"What have—" Shepard tried to say more, but the man glanced at her, and her mouth shut.
"I warned you," the Illusive Man said. "Control is the means to survival. Control of the Reapers… and you, if necessary."
Kroak realized what the Human was talking about, and balked at the sheer arrogance of it. He wished to control powerful creations of the Old Ones? The fool didn't even realize that he was already a puppet himself, and a puppet could never control the one who held the strings.
Anderson growled as he tried to move. "They're controlling you!"
The Illusive Man sneered. "I don't think so, Admiral."
Shepard laughed. It was hoarse and sounded painful, but she did it. "You're a fucking idiot. Have you even looked in the mirror? Saren looked just like you, and you know what I did to him."
"Oh, Shepard." The Illusive Man reached out and gently tilted her chin upward. "You're so shortsighted. Everything you believe is evil and impossible, I've shown is necessary and even practical. This is the most important task in Human history, and I'm about to make it a reality!
"The Reapers know who their master will be. In fact, they've already ceded more of their power to me. Watch." The Illusive Man turned to Anderson. "Look at the power they wield! Look at what they can do… what I can do."
He closed one hand; Anderson brought his pistol up to his side and fired into his gut. Blood poured from the wound, but the Illusive Man's control prevented the admiral from falling down.
"I see what they did to you," Shepard snarled.
"I took what I wanted!" Now, the Illusive Man sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "I made it my own! This isn't about me or you! It's about things so much bigger than all of us."
"He's wrong…" Anderson said weakly. "Don't listen to him!"
"And who will you listen to, Shepard? An old soldier, stuck in his ways, only able to see the world through the barrel of a gun?" The Illusive Man scoffed. "What if he's wrong? What if controlling the Reapers is the answer?"
Shepard glanced at Anderson; she, and Kroak, knew from looking at the amount of blood that the man had minutes to live. The rage increased, but so did despair. Flickers of other memories danced through the air, visible only to Kroak. He saw a much younger Shepard saluting a younger Anderson, followed by the two of them sharing a meal, then having a friendly argument over tactics.
Anderson was more than a superior officer. He was a friend, a mentor, a father-figure. And Shepard was watching him die.
With the Illusive Man so preoccupied with his own speech, he didn't notice Shepard take a step forward. And then another.
Anderson noticed, and he took a gamble. "There is no controlling the Reapers. They're the ones who do the controlling, and they're better at it than you. After all, you don't even know you're being controlled."
"Silence!" The Illusive Man forced Anderson to shoot himself again, this time in the leg. "I am in control!"
There was a third gunshot, but this one was from Shepard. The bullet tore into the Illusive Man's knee, and sent him sprawling.
Kroak was astounded. Though the Illusive Man's focus had barely been diverted, it had been enough for Shepard's indomitable willpower to regain control. Now, with the Illusive Man wounded, he couldn't maintain enough control. Shepard staggered forward, now completely under her own power, while Anderson collapsed with a groan.
"Shepard…" The Illusive Man held out his hands, as if he was begging for help. "All I wanted was to protect humanity."
"Maybe." Shepard stood over him, pistol aimed down. "But all you ended up doing was driving us to extinction."
"Shepard, wai—" The pistol rang out again, and the Illusive Man fell back with a smoking hole between his eyes.
Without even looking back at the corpse, Shepard turned and moved as quickly as she was able to Anderson's side.
"You're going to be okay, sir," she said, and Kroak heard the lie in her voice. "We just need to hold out long enough for someone to get here."
Anderson laughed, but it turned into a blood-filled gurgle. "That's not happening, Shepard. I wish otherwise, but…"
Shepard tried to wipe away her tears, but all that did was get blood in her eyes. "Sir… David, I can't lose you! I've already lost so much…"
"I know." Anderson wrapped his arms around her. "But you'll survive. You always survive, Alexia."
"No, please—"
"Go, Commander. Destroy the Reapers. Destroy the Reapers, Shepard! That's an order…"
Anderson's arms went limp and fell back, leaving Shepard to hold his body and sob.
Around Kroak, the memory began to crack and fall apart. In a moment, the only remaining image was of Shepard and Anderson's body. This, he realized, was the center of the tear, and what he needed to fix.
"I can't lose you," Shepard said dully, her eyes glazed and unfocused. "You saved me so many times, and I can't do the same for you. I can't save anyone…"
Kroak was already using his magic to repair the tear in Shepard's soul, and even though it wouldn't do anything to help, he felt compelled to speak.
"That is not true, Fate-Breaker. You have saved so many people in your life, but each time required some kind of sacrifice. In this case, saving your people required the loss of your greatest friend. Take solace in the fact that David Anderson rests in peace because of your actions."
To Kroak's surprise, Shepard actually turned to face him; it shouldn't have been possible for anyone to see him in their mind unless they had magic, or a will even stronger than his own.
"There's more you have to do," she whispered. She folded Anderson's arms over his chest; a moment later, they both vanished.
Kroak soon repaired the tear, and then traced the damage to another. Shepard was right. He had more to do.
…
As strange as it was, Gregor took heart when he picked up the sound of fighting ahead. It meant that they were close to Hexoatl, and therefore, close to Shepard.
"Forward, men!" He raised his war-pick over his head. "We're almost there!"
It had taken less time than he had feared. The Skinks had shown them paths that not even the Amazons knew about, and it had cut down their travel time by almost a full day, despite the growing size of the army. The number of Skinks from Itza had increased as they joined the Imperials and Amazons, and Saurus patrols had steadily trickled in as well. Now, almost five hundred of the reptiles had come to bolster their ranks.
When at last they cleared the jungle, they beheld a field of corpses. Thousands of Skinks, Saurus, Kroxigors, and many of their beasts were dead or dying. The wind shifted, and the stench was enough to overpower even the sweltering jungle.
One of the Itza Skinks skittered up to Gregor and pointed. "An army from Hexoatl comesss to reinforce them! Our forcesss are being ssslaughtered!"
Gregor looked from the fighting Lizardmen to the Skink. "Do you know anything about that army?"
The Skink stared hard at the counterattacking force, taking in every detail as Michael, Quetza and Ahuila joined them. When the Skink turned back, Gregor could have sworn it looked afraid.
"They are led by Kroq-Gar! He isss ancient, and very powerful among Sssaurusss. He carriesss powerful weaponsss, and ridesss Grymloq, great Carnasssaur!"
Quetza narrowed her eyes. "I know of Kroq-Gar. He is a legend; they say he held back an entire army of Daemons by himself."
"Regardless of his past feats, he is in our way," Michael said. "Your orders, Grand Master?"
"We need to reinforce the city gates—keep them from getting inside and hitting Kroak's forces from behind." Gregor tapped the handle of his pick as he considered his options. "We also need to disrupt Kroq-Gar's charge to buy the defenses time to reorganize. I'll lead our cavalry into the enemy's flank; Quetza, take your warriors and approach as stealthily as you can, then attack when we have their attention. Michael, take our infantry and artillery to the gates and form a wall for the Lizardmen to rally around."
"The host of Kroq-Gar is too great," Quetza pointed out. "Your cavalry will be overwhelmed shortly, and even with surprise on our side, my sisters will not last long in that kind of battle."
"We just need to hold out long enough for Kroak's army to regain the momentum," Gregor countered.
"As soon as they do, I will personally lead the charge," Michael promised.
"Good." Gregor turned to them. "Get everyone ready. Michael, Quetza, begin your advance; try to get halfway to your positions before I start the charge. If fortune is with us, we should all reach our objectives at nearly the same time."
"Sigmar protect you," Michael intoned, then hurried off to lead the bulk of the army.
"There is one thing I want to know," Quetza said softly, once everyone else was gone. "What will you do if you meet Kroq-Gar in battle?"
Gregor drew himself up proudly. "I am a Grand Master of a Knightly Order. It is my duty to fight the deadliest enemy and bring it low. Whether I fall or triumph, it will be with honor."
Quetza stared at him, then nodded. "Fortune be with you, Gregor."
With a returning nod, Gregor wheeled Mortis around and brought the cavalry—both Imperial and panther-riding Amazons—into formation.
In the time she had known him, Quetza had come to respect Gregor's unyielding sense of duty and honor. She only hoped that today would not be the last time she would speak with him. Whether or not he survived the battle, Quetza promised herself that Shepard would know just how worthy the man was of her respect.
"Come, sisters," she called, drawing Ahuila and the other Amazons of her tribe to her, "we go to battle! For Lustria, and the Three-Headed Wolf!"
…
Kroak was no longer in the void of space. Shepard's next memory had taken him to a towering city, with buildings that surpassed the greatest structures of Lustria in size. Each tower would have beautifully reflected the sunset; instead, they provided a twisted reflection of the fire and smoke as the Reapers destroyed everything.
Invisible in the memory, Kroak watched as Shepard charged across a crater-pocked bridge. At her side were several Humans, but there were other beings as well. He could sense Shepard's love for all of her companions, but of those that weren't Human, three were particularly close, and had more focus in the memory than the others. One was a creature that looked like a cross between a bird and a crustacean, and outwardly held itself with confidence, but drew inner strength from Shepard. Another had back-bent legs and three-fingered hands, like the first, but its face was concealed by a glass-like mask, and its entire body was covered in a formfitting suit; that one was not as hardened as the first, but it had a core of unyielding loyalty to Shepard. The last would have passed for a Human female, save for her blue skin and short tentacles that replaced her hair; that one held a deep love for Shepard, one that the Fate-Breaker had known about, but that love had transformed into an unbreakable bond of friendship and respect.
Going by Shepard's subconscious, and the large number of blue- and purple-skinned women covering the advance with weapons and strange abilities, Kroak knew that this world was the home of the blue-skinned one. The Reapers were here to destroy it, just like Shepard's world, and Kroak doubted that a handful of soldiers, no matter how skilled, could stop them on their own.
Explosions erupted all around them as they crossed the bridge, but they fearlessly charged on. A mob of emaciated grey-skinned things that might have once been Human tried to stop them, but they were gunned down by a hail of bullets and waves of purple energy that Kroak couldn't identify.
"We're almost at the temple!" Shepard called out. "Keep going, and don't stop for anything!"
The memory flickered, and Kroak found himself inside the temple they had been running to. The walls were lined with large statues, and ancient artifacts were kept in glass cases. Shepard and her team were more rested, and Kroak knew that they had spent at least a few minutes recuperating.
Physically, they seemed fine, but something had happened to shake them; the blue one in particular was pale and leaning against a wall. Kroak wondered what they had learned, but if the memory wasn't focused on it, it wasn't the source of the tear.
"We… we need to hurry," the blue one said. "This place isn't going to—"
Shepard, who had been resting her hand against an ancient device, jumped back as a green orb materialized in front of her.
"—last very long," the blue one finished.
"Obtaining chronological marker. Hold." The orb was silent for a moment. "Timescale established. Post-Prothean cycle confirmed."
"What are you?" Shepard asked, her hand resting on her pistol.
The green ball ignored her, floating higher to look out to the entrance of the temple. "Reaper presence detected. This galactic cycle has already reached its extinction terminus. Systems shutting down."
The armored bird-like one held out its hands. "Not so fast!"
"We need answers!" Shepard demanded.
The memory flickered again. It appeared to have jumped to a few minutes later; the orb was pulled into the hand of a Human man with long black hair and a strange mask over his eyes. He wore light armored plates and some kind of coat over a skintight suit, and carried a short sword in one hand.
"Give that back!" Shepard ordered, even as she opened fire.
The man nimbly dodged the bullets, while a flying machine swooped down and fired at the rest of Shepard's team. They were pinned down, leaving Shepard to face the man—Kai Leng, Shepard's mind supplied, and it was almost as hateful as the Illusive Man—by herself.
"You're going to have to take it from me," Kai Leng taunted, then vaulted to land directly in front of Shepard. His first slash knocked the pistol from her hand; the second met a blue barrier before the sword could hit her, but the barrier collapsed after a third hit. A fourth, and a deep groove was cut across her breastplate.
Kroak had never seen Shepard fight before, but it was clear that she was outmatched. Kai Leng had trained for years in the way of the sword, and his graceful moves made Shepard's punches and kicks look clumsy in comparison.
That wasn't to say that Shepard didn't get a few hits in. One arm was encased in an orange gauntlet that sprouted a short blade; Shepard stabbed at Leng's chest, but the man's shields held. Shepard tried to grab his arm and force him to the floor, but Leng countered by spinning around her and locking her arm. With a vicious twist, he dislocated her elbow, then kicked out her knee.
Shepard reached for her nearby pistol, but Leng spun around again to kick her face with so much force that her helmet shattered. A second kick broke her nose and knocked her on her back.
"Your friend Thane put up more of a fight than you," Leng sneered.
"Fuck you," Shepard growled, and spat blood directly onto Leng's mask. The man staggered back, giving Shepard enough time to get to her knees and drive her good fist right between his legs. The blow was mostly stopped by Leng's shields and armor, but Kroak could feel Shepard's satisfaction.
"Enough of this." Leng kicked Shepard in the face again and brought his free hand up to his ear. "Fire."
The gunship that had been pinning down the others turned and fired a rocket. Shepard threw herself back to avoid a direct hit, but the explosion damaged the floor, and part of it fell away, taking her with it. She barely managed to grab a protruding chunk of metal to keep from falling to her death, and as she hauled herself back up, she watched Kai Leng smirk as he boarded the gunship, with the device that was so important, and flew away.
"Shit!" Shepard waved off the help that two of her friends offered and staggered out of the temple. She watched, helpless, as Reapers descended from the heavens, burning away entire cities.
Once again, the memory faded into darkness, leaving only Shepard behind.
"Everyone believed in me," she said, voice full of despair. "Even when I failed, people would say 'I know Shepard will save us'. Maybe I saved a few lives, but when it mattered most, all I could do was watch them die."
"You tried to live up to an impossible standard," Kroak said, then reluctantly added, "one that I did nothing to help. You must understand that you are one person; you have no special powers, and you are no god."
"Then why do people keep putting their faith in me?"
Kroak smiled. "Who better to save the day than someone who is just like everyone else?"
A moment later, Kroak repaired the tear in Shepard's soul. Her memory-self nodded weakly, and then faded.
Kroak continued repairing memories as he found them, until they began to pass in a blur. The process was faster, but the memories were no less vivid. Each of them was of a loss Shepard had suffered.
He saw a green-skinned creature fighting Kai Leng, being stabbed in the chest, and then dying on a bed as Shepard held his hand.
A metal being with a single light where its face should have been nodded in thanks, and then collapsed on the stones where its creators called home.
An older creature in a white coat smiled and turned its back on Shepard, humming to itself as it stepped into a raging fire to undo an ancient wrong.
A Human sacrificing herself on a distant world, holding off the enemy until she and they were consumed in a massive explosion.
Shepard herself, dying in the void as her ship was destroyed behind her. She then knew peace, but it was ripped away from her as she was brought back to life.
Dozens of other tragedies were remembered—smaller and less profound, but still painful, because they were of people that Shepard couldn't save. Many of them were avenged, but brief flashes of satisfaction were always replaced with a deeper sadness and regret.
Shepard had become hardened since coming to this world, Kroak realized. Shepard had instinctively known that she couldn't handle more pain, like what she'd faced before and during the Reaper War, and had locked it away in a tiny corner of her heart. Had Kroak not intervened when he did, all the trauma Shepard had dealt with in this world would have been released, and there wouldn't have been a soul to save.
After what felt like hours, Kroak finally found the last tear. It was in the deepest part of Shepard's mind, and likely the first trauma she had ever sustained. Mazdamundi had dug hardest there; it was closest to her origin, and if there was anything to find, Mazdamundi would have believed that it was there.
This time, Kroak didn't find Shepard fighting some alien threat or rogue Human organization. In fact, she wasn't even an adult; instead, Kroak found a little girl, barely five years old, hiding under her bed. Beyond the door of her room, Kroak heard screams, followed by gunshots.
Kroak knew that this was the deepest part of Shepard's trauma. More than that, he could sense that this Shepard wasn't a representation or a memory, but her actual self, withdrawn into the deepest recesses of her soul in an instinctive attempt to protect herself.
With a thought, Kroak shrank his own avatar down to the size of a small frog and floated under the bed, until he was near Shepard's trembling face.
"They came for us," she said, her voice that of a small child. "The Batarians. They wanted to make us slaves. If we fought back, we died." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "My parents tried to fight. They died trying to protect me. People always die when they help me."
"Is it not the duty of parents to protect their children?" Kroak's voice was deep, strong, and reassuring, despite his tiny size. "If that is the case, then they died with no regrets. Anyone else who died helping you believed that your cause was worth it dying for… that you were worth dying for.
"Tell me something, Alexia Shepard: were they wrong?" Kroak floated around to face Shepard directly. "Many people died for you, that is true, but how many others did you save because of their sacrifice? How many people, those that you will never meet, look up at the stars and thank you for saving them so that they could see another night's sky? If your parents had not died for you here, how many others would have been lost because you were not there?"
Kroak's words were not meant to reassure; he spoke with logic, cold and certain as steel, even as his magic repaired the last wound in her soul. Shepard blinked, and then looked down at her hands.
"This isn't me," she said. "I'm not a kid anymore. I'm not helpless, and I'm not weak."
Kroak smiled. "What are you, then?"
"I'm Alexia Shepard, N7 and Commander in the Systems Alliance." Shepard rose and threw the bed to the side. Gone was the child, replaced by an adult woman, clad in N7 armor and holding an Avenger assault rifle. "I'm a General in the Empire. I'm the Middenheim Guardian, the Dwarf Friend, Lady Daemonbane, the Seneschal of Nuln, the Three-Headed Wolf, the Fate-Breaker. I have fought my way through hell and back so many times that I could do it blindfolded. I am not going to die hiding under my bed!"
"And what are you going to do?"
"The same thing I always do." Shepard leveled her Avenger as a Batarian kicked down her door. "I'm going to fight, I'm going to survive, and I'm going to win! Now get the fuck out of my house, you four-eyed piece of shit!"
The rifle flashed, and the memory vanished. Kroak smiled to himself, and then withdrew from Shepard's soul. It was time to see if she was strong enough to awaken.
…
Kroak regained his awareness in the physical plane. He accepted that he was back in his decrepit, immobile body, just like he did every time he emerged from slumber. Unlike those times, he was eager to see the waking world.
"General!" Parral sank to his knees as the Fate-Breaker coughed and opened her eyes. "General, can you hear me?"
Shepard's skin was pale, and most of her hair was still grey, but her eyes were strong, and she managed a smile.
"Yeah, I hear you." With some effort, and some help from Parral, she sat up. "I'm okay. I'm back."
Oh my gods, this was hard to write. Seriously, I had this whole thing planned out, but it just did not want to get written. Not just because forcing Shepard to relive the worst moments of her life sucked for me, but no matter how many times I rewrote it, I just wasn't satisfied. This is the best I can do, though I was very happy with that last memory.
Now, for those of you who have played the Mass Effect games (and if you're reading this, you probably have), you'll notice that the scenes that I took from the game were… abbreviated, shall we say. After going over this story and examining my version of Shepard, I realized that, while she is capable of being diplomatic, she's more of a doer, less of a talker. And I changed a few other things, because I didn't just want to copy and paste entire scenes. I've grown out of that, and trying to do it now almost physically hurts. Oh, and I wanted to show just how much better Kai Leng was at melee combat than Shepard. If they were to fight medieval style now, I'm sure the result would be different.
Also, while I mentioned way back in an earlier chapter that Shepard had lost her parents to Batarian slavers, I never really went into it. This chapter didn't get very far, either, but I thought I'd toss something in.
And no, for those who asked, Shepard's hair is staying as it is. I've been planning on her looking like this almost since the beginning. Like I said last time, think of Battle-for-Azeroth Jaina, but with a big scar across her face, grey instead of white, and red instead of blonde.
Also, a few people were asking me if I'd forgotten about Kroq-Gar. No, I didn't, I just decided that he and his army had been out when the attack began. And I wanted an epic duel between him and Gregor. Let me have nice things, dammit!
As is custom these days, I have no idea when I'll update next. I'm working on my next book, and since sales of my first one are less than I'd hoped (hint, hint), I'm now looking for better employment. Seriously, please consider purchasing my book; just go on Amazon and look up Alpha Sanction by Josh Gottlieb. Help a starving artist out, please?
Anyway, here's the preview:
Next Chapter: Shepard lives, but the battle for Hexoatl rages on, as Gregor faces the toughest fight of his life!
For the Muffin! Charge!