Chapter 53: Into the Mouth of Hell
We made it to the Forward Operating Base without incident. No dogfights. No encounters with hostiles. No accidents. Just a simple, straightforward flight. I hoped that didn't mean our luck had run out.
A marine greeted all of us as we left the shuttle, but it was clear he was here for Anderson. "Admiral, we've set up a command centre in the building over there," he said, handing over a datapad.
Anderson began reading the datapad's contents. "Looks like we've still got groups coming in."
There was a poignant pause before the marine replied. "Yes, sir, but not as many as we'd hoped."
Shit.
"I'd better go to the command centre and get myself brought up to speed," Anderson said at last. "Come see me when you're ready, Shepard."
"Will do," I nodded.
Anderson and the marine headed off to the command centre while my squadmates looked at each other uneasily. Miranda broke the silence first. "He's right. Given the number of transports assigned to deliver Hammer troops to the surface, the time it would take to make the descent through Earth's atmosphere and the time to travel from the various landing zones to this location… I would expect to see more of Hammer here by now."
"A lot of them won't be making it," I said quietly. "Their fight is over. Our fight has just begun."
"And here I thought we could sit back and relax," Garrus sighed.
"Maybe for a little while," I allowed. "Everyone: grab a bite to eat. Take a load off. Resupply. Do whatever you have to do, then meet me at the command centre in an hour."
The squad scattered. I went to a nearby broken window and stared out at the desolation before me.
It wasn't long before Major Coats joined me. "The fighting here's been some of the worst on the planet," he told me. "It looks bad, but there's still hope. And you're here. It'll do the troops good to see you. Bolster their resolve."
"'Bolster their resolve'," I repeated.
"Yeah," he said, almost apologetically. "I'm sure you must be tired of people seeing you as some larger-than-life superhero."
"I'm still trying to convince everyone that 'I'm just a simple soldier'," I admitted.
"Well, cheer up. It could be worse."
"There's something worse than the Reapers?" I asked.
"You could be presiding over a parade in your honour."
Been there.
"Enduring speech after long-winded speech by two-faced politicians."
Done that.
"Smiling politely as schools and streets are re-named after you."
As long as there aren't any statues. (1)
"The point is that the men and women here, after everything they've done and everything they've been through… they need more than vows of honour and duty to keep them going. They need something more than the assurance of following orders and the chain of command."
"They need someone to look up to," I continued, carrying on the thread. "Someone to believe in." God help me.
"Like it or not, you're a hero to these men and women. Don't discount the effect that can have on them."
Thing is, Coats had a point. Morale had to be really low right now—hell, we'd be damn lucky if it was only at rock bottom. The only thing keeping the men and women going was some faint, tenuous, shred of hope. The moment that was gone, the moment they decided that all was lost and we really would bite the bullet, it wouldn't matter how many reinforcements we had. Mentally, psychologically, they would have given up. And then we really would be lost.
"Right," I declared. "Then I guess I'd better get started."
"You do that. I better go meet up with my battalion. I'll see you at the command centre."
When I went downstairs, I heard the dulcet sounds of gunfire. Seemed like a Mako full of troops had just arrived, with several hostiles hot on their heels. I pulled out my sniper rifle and ran towards them, but by the time I arrived, Anderson's soldiers had finished most of them off. The rest were squished by a giant crate that had been temporarily lifted to allow the Mako passage.
I wasn't really worried about the perimeter, as the guards stationed there seemed to have things under control. Nor was I worried about the newcomers who were coming off the Mako—several were wounded, but none appeared critical.
My concern was with James, who was standing near the Mako. He didn't appear to be talking to any of the soldiers with his usual booming voice—not the guards, not the wounded, not the four soldiers who were standing in front of the Mako with nothing better to do. In fact, he wasn't doing anything. He just stood there, with this bleak look on his face that I'd never seen before.
Like I said: I was worried.
"James?"
"Hey, Commander," he said quietly. Too quietly, if you asked me.
"What, no 'Loco'?" I asked.
He gave a belated attempt at a laugh. "Yeah, sorry."
"You okay?"
"I… I don't know what I thought I'd feel coming back to Earth," he admitted. "I was ready to fight, ready to die if I had to. But seeing everything like this… all this destruction, all this death…"
This was what Coats and I had discussed earlier. People needing someone to bolster their resolve. Give them something to believe in. It all started here. "I know it's hard to see," I said, "but this is only temporary. There will be an 'afterwards.' A tomorrow. But first we need to win this thing. Stay focused. Don't let them take your will to fight."
"I know, I know," James agreed. "You're right." He took a deep breath and shook his head, as if to clear out all his doubts and fears. "So… I guess this is it, no? One more push, one last fight."
"Not necessarily our last."
"True. But in case I'm too busy to tell you later on…" James stood to attention and saluted me. "It's been an honour serving with you, Shepard."
I saluted him back. Then we clasped arms as comrades-in-arms… and brothers. "Likewise, Lieutenant. You're a good man and a terrific soldier."
"Thanks."
"Whatever happens out there today, I know you'll make me proud."
"That means a lot to me, sir. And good luck out there… Loco."
Leaving James to his thoughts, I headed out of the building, exchanging greetings and encouraging words along the way. I'd just stepped onto the street when I saw a fire-team on the corner, clustered around a portable comm relay. It only took a few seconds to tap into the right frequency. "Be advised: recon units Echo Bravo and Echo Charlie have checked in."
"What did they find?" one of the soldiers asked.
"Reports indicate once you're past the base, it's a no-man's land. Enemy interdiction has been one hundred percent. They said one of the big Reapers swept through the area."
"Did Echo Team have a recommendation?"
"Affirmative: advise delaying next wave of Hammer."
"Damn," another soldier spat. "We'll get murdered out there."
"Aye," the first soldier said. He leaned towards the relay. "Negative on that delay. Will advise Command of the situation, but Hammer proceeds as planned. Over."
"Acknowledged."
"We have word from the other outposts?"
"Enfield reports eighty percent KIA. Camden: seventy-five percent KIA. Redbridge: ninety-two percent KIA. Kensington: one hundred percent KIA."
Damn.
"Wait," a third soldier barked. "Repeat your last."
"Say again: Kensington reports one hundred percent killed in action."
"All of them?" another one cried out incredulously.
"A burst-transmission SOS reported they were being overrun by enemy forces. No word since. All personnel presumed dead."
"Shit," the first soldier said, numbly sitting down on a crate. "Thompson and Dewhurst were posted there."
"Maybe they got out," yet another soldier offered. "We don't know for sure." (2)
"Will advise as more intel becomes available."
"I hate this war," the third soldier said. "I hate it. I hate it. I hate it."
"Copy that," I said quietly.
The fire-team turned around, then froze as they saw me. The lone woman in the squad was the first to find her voice. "You're…"
"Commander Shepard," I nodded. "At ease," I added. There was a time and place for salutes. Given all the horrors we'd seen, the losses we'd endured and the fact that we would see more of the same all too soon… this wasn't one of them. "I couldn't help but hear about the outposts. For what it's worth… I'm sorry."
"Thank you, sir," the first soldier acknowledged. "It's bad enough to learn about the casualties. To know that they include your brothers… your friends…"
"I've seen a lot of good men and women die," I admitted. "Some of them I was proud to call my friends. Why don't you tell me about yours?"
And they did. They told me about Thompson and Dewhurst. I told them about Ashley. Mordin. Thane. Legion. It was impossible to sum up everything there was to know in such a short period of time, of course. But that wasn't the point. The important thing was to make sure they weren't forgotten. That someone remembered them. Mourned their loss.
That someone would avenge their sacrifice.
"Harrow's field-command reports increased Reaper activity on the northeastern perimeter." (3)
"Acknowledged. Turian support is being rerouted via approach vector Nine-Three-Niner. Confirm."
"Harrow's field-command has been advised. Air control is transferring now. Advise turians that frequency encryption 'Constant Viper' should be maintained on all channels."
After leaving that fire-team, I continued down the street. There wasn't much debris, I noted. No piles of rubble, nothing burning unchecked. Which was comforting, in a way: it meant Anderson and the resistance had time to truly set up the FOB. To organize things, clean up the clutter and set a proper perimeter. The battlefield would be chaotic and confusing enough. Any preparations we could do beforehand would undoubtedly be invaluable.
Speaking of preparations, I saw a few soldiers running my way, each lugging a heavy crate. It seemed obvious that they were bringing much-needed supplies to some destination or other, whereas I was merely wandering around to boost morale. So I felt it was only fair that I step out of the way—
"Oh!"
And by out of the way, I mean between some parked Makos, where Garrus and Tali were suddenly jerking away from each other as if they had grabbed a live wire.
"We were just, uh…" Garrus began before trailing off.
…
Sensing the awkward pause, Tali tried to offer an explanation. "I… well, I… just came to say good… goodbye and… well…"
Emphasis on 'tried.'
"…uh, I think one of my mandibles got hooked on her helmet…" Garrus continued, as if that was a completely normal occurrence.
Tali tried to spin that as best as she could: "It might've caused a rupture, so I-I asked him to check…"
"Well, y-you know, because of i-infection. Risks. Infection risks. Didn't want to jeopardize the mission…"
"So…"
"Yeah…"
I could have let this farce play out a little longer, but I couldn't have the mission jeopardized because two of my key squadmates had died of embarrassment. (4) "I'm really happy for you," I said. "Both of you."
"Thanks, Shepard," Tali said gratefully, positively sagging in relief.
"Appreciate it. Guess it helps to have something to come back to."
"Well you better come back," Tali told him, planting her hands firmly on her hips.
"Or else what?"
Tali leaned over and whispered something in Garrus's ear.
"You're so mean," Garrus finally said. "And I'm okay with that."
"Good."
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I should check and see if any of the turians assigned to Hammer checked in."
Tali watched Garrus go off on his business—or exercise a tactical retreat from any lingering embarrassment—before turning her head towards me. "Almost time for the final push. Are you okay?"
"I thought I'd be asking you that question."
"Shepard, I backed you when I was just a kid on her Pilgrimage. I backed you when the Normandy was a Cerberus ship. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't back you now?"
Then she gave me a pointed look—or, at least, I imagine she gave one from within her helmet. "And you haven't answered my question. Are you okay?"
I took a few seconds to formulate an answer. "You remember how you felt when you landed on Rannoch?" I finally said. "Now imagine it's not a story passed down by your people, generation after generation. Imagine it's not a three-hundred year old legend. Imagine you were there just a few years ago."
"And now you're seeing it like this," Tali finished.
My hands clenched into fists. "We need to put it right," I said.
"We will," Tali promised. "Whatever happens, I'm proud to have served with you… Captain." (5)
"It's been an honour, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy," I replied.
Tali chuckled. "The admirals once hung that ship-name on me like a badge of shame. And then the Normandy helped us reclaim our homeworld."
Hah!
"It's time I returned the favour," Tali concluded.
"We have confirmation from Sutton logistics that food supplies are running low."
"Advise Sutton logistics that all overland routes to their position are blocked by enemy forces. Negative on a resupply."
"Copy that."
Tali had apparently been listening to the radio chatter as well, because she stood up after that conversation. "I'll contact the Flotilla," she offered. "See if there are any ships that could provide air support."
"Thanks," I said. "Anything you could do would really help."
Leaving Tali to her work, I made my way past the Makos. There was a datapad lying on top of a stack of crates. For once, the prospect of finding an open credit account did not enter my mind. In any event, any larcenous thoughts I might have had were promptly dashed once I read the contents:
General Notice: All Fire Houses
People,
We're using the trucks as decoys now. There's no way we can handle the damage being done, and since they're apparently trying to take us out, we might as well be of what use we can be. Volunteers only. Coordinate with evac services.
God go with you,
Central Dispatch.
Damn. Firefighters got into their line of work for more than just putting out sparks and posing shirtless for calendars. They did what they did to protect buildings and properties. To save the environment. To rescue people and animals. To save lives.
But the Reapers had changed all that. They destroyed buildings faster than the firefighters could save them. Wreaked unimaginable havoc and destruction on the environment. Wiped out hundreds of lives in a heartbeat. All the training that firefighters went through, all their skills and experiences, none of it prepared them for the Reapers. So they found another way to save lives—by putting their own in harm's way.
There were a lot of unsung heroes out there. Men, women and children whose actions and sacrifices were never acknowledged or recognized. These firefighters were among them.
It wasn't fair. It really wasn't fair.
Putting down the datapad, I thought I glimpsed a familiar face. Jogging back the way I came, I caught up with Kaidan. "Hey, Kaidan," I greeted him.
"Hey, Shepard."
"You ready?"
"Absolutely," he said firmly. "For anything. Bring it on."
That was a far cry from my encounter with James. The only thing I could think of was that Kaidan had exorcised his demons—or at least driven them away. Maybe he had made peace with his past mistakes—Lord knows there were a couple doozies. Maybe he was ready to face the Reapers with a clear conscience.
Or maybe he was just trying to put a brave face on how screwed up things had become. "And Biotics Division?" I asked. "Your students?"
"More than ready," he laughed. "Eager. That's youth for you."
"Kids," I agreed.
"Guess we're old soldiers, hey Shepard?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "I guess we are."
"We know the score." Kaidan sobered up. "We know this is goodbye."
And the truth came out. "Easy there," I cautioned. "We still have a long road ahead of us. Bit early to start saying 'so long' and 'nice knowing you'."
"Don't get me wrong: I'm gonna fight like hell to see you on the other side. But listen, I… ah… there's… things I want to say. Looking back… I have a few regrets, but not many. That's pretty damn amazing, right?"
"Sure."
"Messed up kid that I was, never would have dreamed of the life I've had. And I owe a lot of that to you, you know? I know I never told you that. Sure didn't act like it at times. But…"
"It's been quite a ride," I said diplomatically.
"It sure has. But how are you doing? Are you nervous at all?"
"Damn straight, I'm nervous. Scared, even." My eyes narrowed. "But that fear's gonna keep me sharp. That fear's gonna keep me alive long enough to strike these bastards right through the heart."
"Yeah," Kaidan smiled. "Exactly."
"So… take care, Major."
"You too, Commander."
Just as I was about to leave, Kaidan looked up and sighed. "You know, I've never been to London."
"First time myself," I agreed.
Both of us had things to do. People to see. But we took a moment to stand there, in the silent streets of London. Watching everyone hurry about with grim purpose.
Thinking of the battle yet to come.
"This is a London theatre-wide update: be advised that Kensington outpost remains dark. Contact has been lost. No change in status."
Contact. Yeah. That would be good. There were a lot of people who I'd like to check in on, if that was at all possible.
It took a while to search throughout the FOB, but I eventually managed to track down a spare comm relay, complete with a small holo-pad. The communications tech looked up when I approached. I was struck by how young he looked. Sure he was sporting a military-grade hardsuit, but the relatively clean-shaven face and cap gave away his youth.
"Yes, Commander," the kid said. "Is there someone you'd like to reach?"
"Leader of a biotic squad attached to the 103rd Marine Division," I said. "Her name's Jack."
"Certainly," he nodded. "I'll connect you now."
It occurred to me that I never found out Jack's last name, or determined what name she'd used to sign on with the Alliance. Thankfully, the tech was up to the task of tracking Jack down and setting up the call. Her image appeared on the holo-pad. "Shepard, is that you?"
"It's me, Jack," I said. "How are you guys?"
"Good, so far. We're a ways south of your position. Saved some resistance fighters with barrier support. Bringing a bit more firepower your way."
"We'll need it," I said. "I'll see you on the other side."
"I won't let you down, Shepard," she nodded. "Go kick some ass."
"You too," I chuckled.
As soon as Jack's image disappeared, the communications tech looked up. "Is there someone else I can connect you to?"
"Mercenary by the name of Zaeed Massani."
"Certainly. I'll connect you now."
It took a bit longer than that, given how many mercs were attached to Hammer. But the tech eventually managed to track him down. Zaeed soon appeared on the holo-pad, as grizzled and battered as ever. "Almost thought you weren't going to make it, Shepard. Glad I was wrong."
I saw him rub his shoulder. "You doing okay, Zaeed?" I asked.
"Yeah, yeah. Had to wrestle with one of those Brute things earlier. Nothing compared to what's coming up next. Hope you've got one hell of a speech to get everyone moving. Looks like we might need it. Never seen anything like this."
"We don't stop it now, it gets worse," I said.
"No kidding. Just doesn't feel like a proper ground war when your opponents are taller than goddamn skyscrapers."
"Keep telling yourself that the bigger they are, the harder they fall," I tried.
Zaeed snorted. "Yeah, right. Still, no use whining about it. I'm ready to go when you are." A vicious grin spread over his scarred face. "Let's gut the bastards."
"Amen to that," I smiled.
"Is there someone else I can connect you to?" the communications tech asked as Zaeed's image vanished.
"My shuttle pilot," I said. "Lieutenant Steve Cortez."
"Certainly. I'll connect you now."
"Commander," Steve said when his holographic image materialized. "You made it."
"Glad I can say the same about you, Steve," I replied. "I've come too far to lose my pilot now."
"I apologize for that. Things got too hot. Thought maybe I could drive off those Harvesters and head back around but… well, not one of my finer moments. If I'd been flying my old Trident, things might've been different."
"What matters is we took out that AA gun," I said.
"Absolutely. And the Reapers are next."
"That's the idea. Where are you?"
"Sounds like there won't be much use for shuttles on the front—no doubt Admiral Anderson will have all the details for you—so I'm transporting troops and supplies to other combat zones before heading back to the Normandy. Might not be much, but I'm just glad I could play a part. And Commander… before I go… thanks for making me believe again. If you hadn't… it helps to have a reason to live again. To fight again."
"My pleasure, Steve. Stay sharp out there."
"Yes, sir."
"Is there someone else I can connect you to?" the communications tech asked. I was starting to think he didn't know how to ask any other question. "Kasumi Goto," I said instead. "She's a civilian specialist attached to the Crucible Project." (6)
"Certainly. I'll connect you now."
I'd apparently caught her in the middle of something, as she was typing away on her omni-tool when the connection was established. She quickly wrapped up what she was doing when she saw me. "Hey, Shep. You ready down there?"
"Depends on whether you've got the Crucible good to go."
"Well, I am amazing, but it was a team effort," she said modestly. "The Crucible's ready to go. No idea what it'll do, exactly, but it's gonna be big. Good luck, Shepard. If you live through it, drinks are on me."
"How could I pass up an offer like that? You got yourself a deal, Kasumi. Shepard out."
As soon as I turned to the communications tech, he asked the now-familiar question: "Is there someone else I can connect you to?"
"Jacob Taylor. Military consultant for the Alliance, probably attached to the Crucible Project."
Ignoring his equally predictable reply, I turned back to the holo-pad. It wasn't long before Jacob appeared. "Shepard, that you?"
"Jacob," I nodded. "Holding up?"
"Kicking ass and taking names, more like," he chuckled. "My kill count's through the roof."
"Garrus is the one who keeps tallies and notches. Still, whaddya say we meet up and swap stories when this is all over?"
"You got it. There's this, ah, great little bar in Rio we have to check out."
"I'm holding you to that. Give 'em hell, Jacob."
"Yes, sir."
We exchanged salutes. "Shepard out."
As soon as Jacob vanished, I glanced at the tech and intervened before he could go through his usual spiel. "See if you can find an asari justicar named Samara."
"Certainly. I'll connect you now."
To my relief, he did manage to contact her. "Samara," I greeted her. "I wondered if I'd see you again."
"It's well past time I joined your battle. You helped me a great deal in the monastery, Shepard. Helped me find clarity. Helped me save my daughter."
"It was my pleasure," I said sincerely. "Thank you for returning the favour."
"Only your actions will be remembered. May you choose them well. Goddess be with you, Shepard."
Grunt was next on my list. It wasn't long before the communications tech got a hold of him. As soon as his image stabilized, he gave me a cocky grin. "'Bout time you got here, Shepard. Didn't want to win this thing all by myself."
"Well I wasn't sure if you'd recovered from the mission on Utukku, Grunt. Someone had to step up." On a more serious note, I added "Good to see you back in action."
"Wouldn't miss it."
After that, he seemed to sober up as well. "Shepard…"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks… for getting me out of that tank."
It might've seemed like a minor thing, but we both knew it was anything but. Grunt had grown into a formidable warrior. He'd blown past several milestones and achieved new heights during his Rite of Passage. He'd earned his place with Clan Urdnot and the krogan. But none of that would have been possible if I hadn't taken a chance and popped him out of that tank. "Sure, Grunt. It's been an honour."
"Same here, Shepard."
We could have said more, but some things can't really be put into words. In the end, Grunt merely straightened up and nodded. "Okay. Grunt out."
I racked my brain trying to see if there was anyone else I wanted to talk to. Then a loud explosion rang out and the ground shook.
Running outside, I could see a plume of fire billowing upwards. I raced up a flight of stairs to a catwalk, which had been used to facilitate movement between buildings before being incorporated into a makeshift barricade. "We've got hostiles on the perimeter!" some soldier yelled.
He wasn't kidding. Off in the distance, several guns had suddenly went silent. It was clear that the hostiles were moving against us in considerable force if they had been able to overwhelm our defences so quickly. As we watched, a Mako sped down the main road, only to lose control and crash into a derelict building.
"Someone get on that gun!"
I looked around. There was a turret set up to cover the road, but no one was at the controls. Everyone else was too busy finding their squadmates or assuming defensive positions. So I guess it was up to me. Running towards the turret, I opened my squad's comm channel. "Perimeter breach near the command centre. All teams converge on my position and fire at will."
As I activated up the turret controls, I saw a beam of light off in the distance shining up into the sky. That must be the transport beam Anderson was talking about, the one sending my people from Earth to the Citadel. Once we were organized, that was where we'd be heading. Then the hostiles appeared and I focused on the task at hand.
They came in twos and threes. Mostly Cannibals, with a generous smattering of husks. It was pretty easy to pick them off. For a moment, I wondered why the Reapers were throwing their forces at us in such an ineffective manner. A harsh alarm told me I'd run out of ammo, even though I'd only taken out a half dozen targets. Then I realized what was going on: the hostiles were deliberately spread out so we couldn't concentrate our fire, while attacking with their usual disregard for personal safety or wellbeing. They kept pushing forward, leaping over the bullet-ridden corpses of those who had come before. Each group of Cannibals and husks came closer and closer. It was like standing on a beach as the tide came in.
As I ejected the turret's power cell and loaded a new one, I realized that some of the hostiles had gotten perilously close to the barricade. I tilted the turret as far down as it could go and squeezed the trigger, firing in short bursts to conserve ammo and maximize the turret's effectiveness. After all, I wouldn't improve our chances of victory by spraying the battlefield with bullets.
The alarm went off again. I reloaded and turned the turret to the right. Husks were running down the sidewalk in their usual erratic, shambling manner. I took them out one by one.
Alarm. Reload. Some Cannibal was trying to take cover behind a concrete pillar. I finished it off along with the Cannibal trying to join it. Out of the corner of my eye, a few husks trying to climb up the side of a building, before abruptly being pulled into a singularity. They spun around helplessly before a fireball exploded in their midst. Thank you, Liara and EDI.
Alarm. Reload. Teams Two and Three were on either side of me, firing down at a sharp angle. Clearly they were focusing on any hostiles that were close enough to climb up the barricade. Which meant I could concentrate my efforts on any hostiles that were farther away. Which was fine with me: there were plenty of targets to go around. I emptied another power cell into the waves of hostiles.
Then a pair of Mantis gunships swooped down and dropped a barrage of PKRs. (7) Any hostiles that weren't torn to shreds by the shrapnel were quickly wiped out by the soldiers.
"This is a flash-traffic alert, priority one: Redbridge platoon Delta Kilo requests immediate evac alert."
"Copy that request. Nearest available unit is out of Havering mobile. Issuing a priority-one scramble alert now."
"Copy that alert. Is there an ETA?"
"Advise Delta Kilo they're ten minutes out and counting."
We'd just fended off a concerted effort to breach our defences, but there was no rest for the weary. Any soldier that wasn't needed to stand watch resumed their original duties, went to grab some food or tried to get a little rest before the next battle. Most of my squad did the same.
Except for one. "No sniper rifle, Shepard?" Miranda asked.
"The turret had bigger guns," I deadpanned.
She rolled her eyes. "It's good to see your sense of humour is as questionable as ever."
"I don't recall you voicing any complaints," I said.
"Given your innate stubbornness, I felt there were better ways to spend my time."
"No doubt. How are you holding up?"
"Fairly well, under the circumstances. I made sure Team Two—and the rest of the squad—would have a full round of thermal clips, medi-gel and other essentials."
"Good," I nodded. "Anyone give you any problems?"
"I might have encountered some minor resistance from the supply officers when I put in my request—it's fairly clear that I'm not Alliance military—but they can't be picky at this point. Besides, they quickly acquiesced once I explained I was with you."
What a relief: for a moment, I thought someone might decide to take offense to her past affiliation with Cerberus. "I'm glad to hear that—and I'm glad you're with me. Fighting here on Earth… it wouldn't be the same without you."
"Agreed." She leaned against the turret and looked off into the distance. "You know, if we both come back from this at all, everything… will be different."
"Sure," I shrugged, "everything will change—but on our terms. We've been running until now, Miranda. Running from one fight to the next. From one planet to the next. Putting out fire after fire, constantly playing catch-up. It has to stop. We're going to end this. We have to."
"I understand. I just..." She suddenly spun around and pulled me into a tight embrace. "I just wanted you to know that you've made me so… so happy. You're the first person who ever looked past my physical appearance and made the effort to know me. The first person who didn't look at me with disdain or envy. The first person who didn't treat me as an asset or acquisition. I… I love you so very, very much."
"I love you too," I rasped, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. "And… I wanted you to know… I never thought I'd say those words. To anyone. I always felt like everyone else was getting together, falling in love. No matter how hard I looked, no matter how hard I tried… I was always turned down. I kept wondering what I was doing wrong, wishing I knew what I could have said or done differently. Wondering if I was condemned to forever be alone because I wasn't good enough.
"And then you came, with all your perfection and imperfection… and you made me feel… good enough. Like I wasn't doing anything wrong. Like I could be myself and still be loved."
Tears welled up in her eyes. "I… I didn't know. I wish I knew what to say. What else to say."
"You've said plenty," I replied. "Just… don't say goodbye."
"All right," she nodded. "Then I'll just say… finish this, Shepard. End this war. And find me."
"I will. I promise."
Without any more disasters to respond to, I resumed my wandering. I found myself entering a makeshift sickbay, or so I thought. It was only when I took a closer look that I realized most of the people were far, far too still.
There were a couple medics running around, plus a few others who looked like volunteers. Liara was one of the latter. Catching my eye, she tilted her head towards the door and we stepped outside. "How are the casualties?" I asked.
Her reply was simple, eloquent and painful. "We lost people. Some of the wounded here won't make it."
"The Reapers are closing in," I sighed heavily. "How are you holding up, Liara?"
She stared off into the distance. "This is it, isn't it?"
"Yeah," I said quietly. "This is it."
"I don't know what to say," she admitted. "But I just know I'll have a clever line five minutes from now."
"That's usually how it works," I chuckled ruefully.
"I do have one thing for you, Shepard. A gift. It'll only take a moment, if you want it."
"What kind of gift?"
"Do you remember when I first joined my consciousness to yours?"
Yeah. It was pretty jarring. Mind you, that was back when we were trying to make sense of the data crammed into my noggin by the Prothean beacon, so maybe there were extenuating circumstances.
"I can show you some of my own memories. Asari exchange them sometimes. With their friends. Or the people they respect." She hesitated before finishing: "It can also be a way to say farewell."
Part of me couldn't help but think back to the conversation I just had with Miranda. If she—if either of us—could share memories like this, we could have ended things differently. Maybe we could have concluded our chat in a more satisfactory manner.
But that wasn't the point. Liara's proposal had nothing to do with showing off or putting down Miranda. As she had said, it was an offer of friendship, a gesture of respect and a way to silently say things that should be said… before it was too late. (8)
In the end, there was only one possible response. "I'd be honoured."
"Close your eyes," Liara said.
I did. I closed my eyes, blocking out any display of grief or suffering or tragedy. Oh, I could still hear things in the background. The beeps of various machinery. The steady footsteps of people walking—or running—here and there. The far-off chatter of gunfire. But there was some degree of calm in the darkness.
Then I felt something—Liara—touch my head. My mind. My soul. It wasn't like the Prothean beacon or the Reapers or the Leviathans. There was no burning agony, no painful chill, no overwhelming pressure as some otherworldly force tried to bore its way into my skull. No, this was more… soft. Mellow. Like a gentle request to open up and let her in.
So I did.
I opened my eyes. Liara did the same. And… well…
It's hard to describe what I experienced. Even now, I don't think I really understood or appreciated it. But from what I remember…
We were in the dark. In a void. Yet it seemed more comforting than threatening, like wrapping yourself head to toe in a soft blanket. I could see Liara, even though there was no light. And it was snowing. Only… it wasn't snow. It was like little particles of light were raining down on us.
Another light appeared in the distance, spreading horizontally like a vid-screen turning on for the first time. It slowly grew brighter. I had the sense it was moving towards us—or perhaps we were moving towards it. I felt more than saw Liara lean against me as the light enveloped us.
And I felt it. The memories. The experiences. Everything Liara wanted to share. I couldn't really say for sure whether they came in any particular order or simply came all at once. All I knew was that it never felt overwhelming. It just… was. Somehow, I felt connected to something greater than myself, as if Liara was a conduit to something…
Then it was over. Whatever insight I'd found abruptly flickered and died away, gone before I could grasp and examine it. I stared into Liara's eyes, humbled by the privilege of what I'd just experienced. For once, I didn't know what to say.
Liara didn't have that problem. "Thank you," she said. "For everything. Let's do what needs to be done."
If I had forgotten the grave urgency of the situation, my next encounter provided a painfully harsh reminder.
I had said my goodbyes to Liara—for the time being, anyway—and was making my way back through the sickbay when I overheard a marine talking out loud. "What's the corporal's condition?" he asked. Given that he was leaning over a computer console, I was fairly sure he wasn't talking to me.
"Bleeding…" a woman replied, her voice faint and crackling over the speaker. "There's a lot of blood! His leg was blown off below the knee!"
Clearly, this marine was some kind of medic or first responder. He responded in a calm, soothing tone. "Okay, now try to stay calm."
"Doctor, I'm just a civilian! We're out of medi-gel a-and your surgeon got killed by a Reaper! I don't know how to do this!"
The doctor—'cuz this guy apparently had a degree under his belt—thought otherwise. "I'll talk you through it—you're his only hope right now. The most important thing is to stop the bleeding."
"How?"
"Do you have any towels or bandages?"
"No, nothing! We're sitting under a bombed-out highway!"
"Then use your shirt. Tear off one of your sleeves and—"
"Wait, something's coming our way! Hold on… hold…"
…
"Okay, they passed us by."
"As I was saying, you need to tear off your sleeve into strips," the medic said, deliberately maintaining his calm tone as if he was just having a casual conversation over a cup of tea. "You're going to make a tourniquet."
"All right, hold on… Okay, I did it."
"Now wrap that just above his knee to cut off the blood flow. Tie it off in a knot."
"I'm trying! Okay, around his knee… damn, I can't get it tight enough. There's so much blood!"
"Try it again. Pull tighter."
"Okay… I'm wrapping it again… there, I think I got it."
"What's his condition?"
…
"Hello?"
"The bleeding's stopped but… he… he isn't breathing. I swear he was breathing when I first contacted you. He must have… stopped."
"Do you feel a pulse?"
"Um… no. No, I don't."
Damn. I had no idea how severe the corporal's condition was—hell, I didn't even know his name—but I did know he'd lost his leg and a lot of blood. Factor in the time it took this civvie to find him and contact the medic… I guess it was too little, too late. At least she tried. That was more than a lot of people would have done, even in the best of circumstances.
"You did everything you could. We'll get you out of there soon."
"I don't think so. One of the big Reapers is coming our way."
"Then run!" the medic said urgently. "Get out of there!"
"That doesn't work. They always catch you. And then they turn you into those… things."
"You have to try! Go! Now!"
"No."
There was something different in the civvie's voice. Something disturbingly calm and final. The reason soon made itself clear: "I've got the corporal's gun here. I'm going to end it before they find me."
"End it? You mean—no, no! No, don't!"
"Goodbye, Doctor."
"Wait! No! Are you still there? Hello? Are you still there?"
…
…
…
The doctor's head dropped. "Damn it," he said quietly.
After that, I think I really needed a break from all the misery and suffering. I needed something heartening and uplifting. And for once, that's exactly what the universe gave me.
"When the rachni laid waste to the galaxy two thousand years ago—when all seemed lost and the end was near—one word delivered the killer blow!"
I knew that voice. I followed it outside to a balcony, half covered in debris. On top of the pile, standing tall and proud, was Urdnot Wrex.
"One word beat the monsters back to the abyss that spawned them. One word brought death to an enemy none dared to fight. That word was 'krogan'!"
Joining Wrex, I looked down at the courtyard below. It was filled with krogan, all of them cheering at their leader's words.
But he wasn't finished yet. "And today, the krogan rise again! Today we forge a new path and join the galaxy as allies in victory! Today, we win our future!"
There was more cheering and howling. I don't think I'd ever seen so many krogan who were happy—no, not happy. Hopeful. Mixed with their innate love of combat was hope. Hope for a future worth fighting for. Hope because they actually had a future.
Wrex let them celebrate for a few minutes before waving his hands. "All right, all right. Calm down. Calm down. Cal—SHUT UP! All right, princesses. Up and at 'em. This isn't salarian boot camp! I want to be prepped and ready in five! Get to it!"
Sounded like Basic to me. In another life, Wrex would've made one hell of a drill sergeant.
"And somebody go see if the quarians have anything to eat! All that turian food gave me the runs."
That, not so much. Too much information, in my opinion. Way, way too much information.
While I was trying—and failing—to get that image out of my head, Wrex had noticed my presence. "Shepard. So this is Earth."
"Yep. Bit worse for wear."
"Yeah, you could say that. Kinda reminds me of home. Guess your homeworld could use some fixing up too. That's okay. Tuchanka's got room to spare—and a guard dog named Kalros."
I repressed a shudder at the thought of the sheer primal power of the Mother of All Thresher Maws. "Appreciate the offer, Wrex, but aren't you getting ahead of yourself? The war's not over yet."
"Shepard, I know we have a ways to go. I know the biggest fight is still to come. But I also know this: no matter what else happens today, you did what no one else could—you brought us all together. Krogan and turian. Quarian and geth. Asari, salarians, humans—even the batarians! Shepard, you united a galaxy. That's a victory right there. And don't worry about the Reapers: you'll beat them too."
I couldn't help but smile at the confidence in his voice. "Is that right?"
"Absolutely. I know you're going to win—because you brought the krogan."
I had to laugh. It might be misplaced, but Wrex's faith and optimism was exactly what I needed right now. "All right, all right. I'll give you that much."
"Good."
"You come up with all of that on your own?"
"Most of it. Bakara gave a few suggestions before I left Tuchanka. She sends her regards, by the way. Would've been here herself but, well, she's pregnant."
My mother would be heartily ashamed at the first thing that came out of my mouth: "Already?"
"There are benefits to being a clan leader," Wrex proclaimed with a cocky gleam in his eye.
"Well, congratulations," I said belatedly, clapping him on the shoulder. "That's great news."
"Yeah, thanks. Just wish I could talk some sense into her. She keeps insisting we name the first one 'Mordin'."
"Hmm," I mused. "'Urdnot Mordin.' Gotta say, Wrex, it has a nice ring to it."
"Not you too!" Wrex groaned. I broke into laughter again. It felt good to laugh, after everything I'd seen and endured. Wrex must have sensed that, as he didn't try to cut my mirth short.
"Anyway, we're ready to go. Just say the word, Shepard."
Leaving Wrex to whip his people into shape—and find something to eat—I walked over to the other side of the courtyard. It seemed someone else had chosen to use this area to give a speech. Seemed like a popular spot. I left the whys for another time, leaned against a fallen pillar and listened.
"You all know the mission," Kirrahe proclaimed to several squads of salarians below. "You've studied the intel, you've read the reports. You know what's at stake. While this may not be our world, it is our galaxy! Today, humanity has asked for our help—and today, we will deliver. In this war, we are all citizens of the cosmos! Brothers and sisters in a family that stretches across the stars! There is no enemy we cannot defeat together, no threat we cannot neutralize, no challenge we cannot overcome!
"Someday, when the Reapers are nothing more than a distant memory, the nations of the galaxy will come together and remember this place—this very ground—and say: 'The salarians were here! They did not fall! They did not falter! And they did not surrender!"
The salarians cheered—which was a novel experience in and of itself. Kirrahe nodded in satisfaction before seeing me. "Commander," he greeted me.
"Major," I returned. "Welcome to Earth."
"Thank you. I would have liked to have seen your world under better circumstances."
"Me too."
"But failing that, I'm happy to help you take it back from the Reapers. And don't worry… we're here to hold the line."
That took me back to Virmire, where I'd first met Kirrahe. Back then, he'd had to rally his men for an assault on Saren's cloning base—a mission that, in hindsight, was a taste of the hardships we'd had to endure so far in this war. Kirrahe had given a rather rousing speech to his men—one that had used the stirring phrase of 'holding the line'. (9)
It was nice to relive that memory and take courage from those words. Especially now, during these desperate times.
"We're ready, Commander," he said. "Just give the word."
"Copy that," I nodded.
He clapped me on the shoulder before turning to his men. "Schoko, make sure we're on the same comm frequency as the asari. Admiral Anderson has us operating in the same areas and I don't want any friendly fire incidents. Stenvon, ask those geth about countermeasures against Reaper signal-jamming. See what they know and pass any information to the allied forces—but ask nicely. Let's not start another war."
Cheered up from my conversations with Wrex and Kirrahe, I left the courtyard and entered another room. I could see Javik on one side, staring out a broken window. Perhaps he was transfixed by the transport beam, clearly visible from here. Perhaps he was looking for an excuse to ignore the geth prime standing in the middle of the room.
I went to the geth prime first. "Hi there," I said.
"Shepard-Commander," he replied. At least, I think it was a 'he.' Hard to tell, but the deep vibrating voice seemed more consistent with a male gender.
"Thank you for coming. What's your status?"
"The geth are prepared to face the Reapers. Additional platforms will arrive via orbital drop once clearance is achieved. Preparations are complete. We stand ready."
Nice, short, succinct. There were a lot of soldiers who could take lessons from this guy. Speaking of which… "Hope our guys haven't taken any shots at you."
"Your military commanders briefed their soldiers extensively on geth-organic cooperation. Allied fire has been minimal."
Minimal. Well, I guess it could've been worse. A lot worse. "Have the Reapers tried contacting you since Rannoch?" I asked.
"They made an attempt. We rejected it. We will not relinquish sentience. There will be no more compromise with the Old Machines. Today, the geth fight to secure our future."
"You and everyone else," I said.
"And once the war is over, we will help rebuild yours."
"I… I think we'd all appreciate that. Thank you."
"You are welcome. Awaiting counterattack signal."
After realizing he'd just given the geth equivalent of 'we're ready when you are,' I gave my farewells and walked over to Javik. "Commander," he greeted me.
"Javik." I replied, joining him by the window. "Was it this bad in your time?"
"Worse."
There didn't seem to be anything I could say. Javik wasn't the kind of guy who had patience for empty platitudes.
"I have been listening to the krogan speak to his men," he said.
"So did I," I nodded.
"I have never heard such a thing."
"Really?" I frowned.
"In our cycle, the races never came together. There was no rallying cry. I envy you."
"Really? Why? Because of all the races gathered out there?"
"Because the future is still out there. It is something my people could never say: there will be a tomorrow."
"Don't forget: first we have to win today," I cautioned.
He shrugged. "True. But no one else has ever made it this far."
"You came a long way, Javik," I reminded him. "Further than anyone else here."
"And I look forward to fulfilling my mission. But you are now the avatar of this cycle. The exemplar of victory. Not just for humanity, or the turians or the Protheans—but for all life. Every soul that has ever existed is watching this moment."
"Well," I said dryly, "no pressure when you put it that way."
"Do not waver," Javik warned. "Victory is never won without difficult choices."
"I know," I said soberly. "I've had to make a lot of those."
"There may be more. But I know you will see this through for all of us—no matter the cost."
He extended his hand. It was a remarkably… human gesture. And a brave one, considering his ability to 'read' people. Perhaps it was a gesture of courage and faith, one that echoed the words he'd just spoken. Perhaps it was a sign of how much he had changed, after all the scorn and condescension he'd heaped on this cycle and its inhabitants.
There was only one possible way to respond. Reaching out, I clasped his hand and shook it firmly.
"If we actually pull this off, what will you do afterwards?" I wanted to know.
Javik considered my question. "Since my birth, life's only pursuit has been war," he finally said. "I look forward to seeing what peace looks like."
"It's a big galaxy," I replied. "Lotta things to see."
"Perhaps I will write a book with the asar—with Dr. T'Soni. She suggests 'Journeys with the Prothean'."
Okay. This was big. First, he finally deigned to call Liara by her given name—without prompting. Second, Liara had finally picked a title for her book. (10) "You'd do that?"
"I will need a job," Javik shrugged. "There will be no Reapers left to kill."
"Now that would be a tomorrow worth seeing," I declared.
"Agreed. Thank you, Commander… for letting the last voice of the Protheans speak. It has been a privilege."
"The privilege—and honour—was mine, Javik," I said sincerely.
I bumped into Garrus downstairs. He was talking with Primarch Victus and a couple other turians. "Coordinate with the Alliance," Garrus was saying. "Make sure we iron out these logistical problems."
"Yes, sir," one of the turians replied. "It's the krogan I'm worried about… they don't want to share supplies."
"That's just Wrex playing hard to get," Garrus reassured him. "Tell him I've got a crate of Denorian beer I'd be happy to barter with. That oughta get his attention."
"I'll get right on it," the other soldier nodded. He gave Garrus a salute before running upstairs.
Another turian shook his head. "It's a shame to see another planet get hit like this."
"It'll be the last one if I have anything to say about it," Garrus said. "This nightmare finally ends today."
"You really think the Reapers can be defeated?"
"I know they can. That whole Sovereign business a few years ago… he was the first to die. Now all his friends will, too."
"Hear, hear," I declared.
Garrus acknowledged me with a simple nod. "Shepard. So, I guess this is…"
"Just like old times?" I tried.
He gave a slight smile. "Yeah, I guess. Might be the last chance we get to say that."
"'Last chance?' Think we're going to lose?"
"No, I think we're about to kick the Reapers back into whatever black hole they crawled out of." Garrus said firmly. "Then we're going to retire somewhere warm and tropical and live off the royalties from the vids."
"I'll meet you there," I said. "I think my days of saving the galaxy are over when this is done."
"Be sure to leave room for all the autographs."
"Oh, sure. No problem. Just need to beat the Reapers to get there."
"James told me there's an old saying here on Earth: 'May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead.' (11) Not sure if turian heaven is the same as yours, but if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there… meet me at the bar. I'm buying."
That was assuming that I didn't wind up going to hell for all my sins, of course. "We're a team, Garrus. There's no Shepard without Vakarian, so you better remember to duck."
"Sorry, turians don't know how," Garrus said cheekily. "But I'll improvise. And Shepard?"
"Yeah?"
Garrus leaned over and squeezed my shoulder. "Forgive the insubordination, but this old friend has an order for you—go out there and give them hell. You were born to do this."
"Goodbye, Garrus," I said solemnly. "And if I'm up there in that bar and you're not, I'll be looking down. I'll always have your back."
Primarch Victus had stepped aside while Garrus and I talked, no doubt to give us some privacy. But I couldn't leave without exchanging a few words. "Primarch Victus. I didn't realize you were here."
"You kept your word and got us the krogan aid we needed. I wanted to return the favour in person. Though I'm sorry to see your world looks as bad as ours."
"I'm surprised you're not back on Palaven."
"This war will be won or lost today—here—on Earth. Not Palaven. Everything comes down to this moment. And history will record that the Turian Hierarchy stood among the brave."
"How are things back on Palaven?"
"Urdnot Wrex was true to his word. The krogan put up a magnificent fight, fearless to the last soldier. They bought us time to evacuate civilians." He shook his head slowly. "Yet even then, the Reapers were still too much."
"I'm sorry." Trite words, I know, but they were all I had to offer.
"Thank you. But that just underscores how important it is to be here: the only hope for my world now is victory here on Earth."
"Then I'm glad we got this chance to speak."
"Likewise, Commander. Good luck out there."
"Good luck to you too. May the spirits watch over you."
At last, I made my way to the command centre. There were guards stationed everywhere—as there should be—but they let me pass after the usual security check. Inside, I found things were as organized as possible: a couple tables with datapads here, a portable lamp there. A fair amount of broken glass and debris that no one had time to clean up yet. Various people scattered throughout the room.
And at the centre, presiding over a holographic table, was Anderson. "What about this zone?" he was asking. "We could circle around and flood it with reinforcements."
"Not likely," Coats replied. "I spent three days in that sector. Trapped inside Big Ben, sniping anything that moved… it's a bloody death trap."
Either Coats had been shooting down all of his ideas lately or the stress had finally gotten to him. "Name me one place in this city that isn't!" Anderson exploded, slamming his hand on the table.
"I don't know, Admiral," Coats said after a moment. "Our Thanix missiles pack a punch, but that's against conventional targets. A Reaper is a whole other matter."
"We have to make do with what we've got, Major," Anderson said, regaining his usual calm and confident manner. "Get their crews prepped and moving."
"The Thanix missile crews already reported in. Target packages have been uploaded. Warhead payloads confirmed. They're ready for action, sir."
"What's the armour like on those things?"
"Not good enough. Small arms fire isn't a problem, but anything bigger than that… the crews are vulnerable, Admiral."
"Understood."
Anderson and Coats began talking about supply lines, at which point I tuned them out. Not that I wasn't interested, but there were more important things—and people—to worry about.
Like EDI. "Shepard, I have a question," she said without preamble.
"Is it a big question or a small one?"
"It is important. Its relevance would be diminished at any other time."
"All right," I nodded. "Ask away."
"In this battle, the Reapers have no reason not to use their full capabilities to destroy us. Their forces are in entrenched positions. They have superior firepower and outnumber our forces. My question is: what makes you think we can reach the Conduit at all?"
"'Conduit'?"
"The designation Anderson and his people have assigned to the transport beam."
Seemed appropriate. The first Conduit I'd heard of was the miniature mass relay originally built by the Protheans when they were researching mass relay technology. They used it to travel from Ilos to the Citadel in order to stop—or slow down—the ongoing cycle of extinction perpetuated by the Reapers. Given that our objective had a similar transportation function, it made sense that they re-used that term.
"You're right," I said. "The Reapers do have their advantages in defences, firepower and numbers. Add in the fact that they have the Citadel too. 'Cuz I bet they did. They probably analyzed all that data and came to the conclusion that their victory is inevitable. They think they've won—and that's the best time to hit them. "
"Because they won't be expecting an assault," EDI said. "But if they have spies or other intelligence, we could lose the element of surprise. In such a case, we will likely lose."
If this was anyone else, I probably would have figured out what was really going on ages ago. It was only when EDI spoke that I finally clued into what was really on her mind. "Are you afraid?" I asked.
"Our probability for success is greater than any other plan presented to date," EDI replied.
"That's not what I asked. Are you afraid?"
"I do not understand the purpose of the question."
"There's no denying that the odds are against us, EDI. You know that better than anyone. It's natural to be concerned. To be afraid. But you can't let those fears control you. You can't let them override all your impulses and actions. If you do… then we really will be lost.
"So take those fears and channel them. Make them work for you. Use your fears to keep your senses sharp. To look out for dangers. To look out for your team and your squad. Do you understand?"
"I believe I do, Shepard," EDI replied, straightening up. "The Reapers have destroyed thousands of civilizations. But they have never destroyed ours. Nor will they."
"Couldn't have put it better myself," I declared. "Now then, I'm going to talk to Anderson and see what our plan of action is. Meanwhile, I want you to assemble the squad. It's time to move out."
"Shepard? There is something I want you to know."
I was already heading towards Anderson when EDI spoke, but I quickly turned back. "Yeah, EDI?"
"The Illusive Man ordered my creation years ago. Jeff was the one who allowed me to think for myself. But only now do I feel alive. That is your influence."
Wow. I guess all that time pretending I was a philosopher and flailing around in an attempt to answer her questions finally paid off. (12) "Thanks, EDI."
Well, there was no more putting it off. It was time to report in to Anderson. I stepped up to the holo-table and waited for him to wrap up what he was doing.
"Commander," he said at last.
"Admiral," I replied.
"Just going over the sitrep," he told me.
"How's it look?"
Anderson tapped a control, pulling up lists of names. There were too many to read, but the amount of red clued me in before Anderson put it into words: "Barely fifty percent of Hammer has reported in."
"Can we count on more making it?" I wanted to know.
Anderson and Coats exchanged looks. "There are some stragglers still en route, but the bulk of Hammer that's still intact and operational has arrived. We're as ready as we'll ever be."
"Every minute wasted here, the Reapers gather strength," I said, "both here on the ground and up in orbit. If this is as good as it gets, then maybe it's time to launch our offensive."
"Exactly my thoughts," Anderson nodded. He reached up to his ear to activate his comm. "This is Anderson. Battalion leaders, report to HQ."
"Shepard to team leaders," I said over my own squad channel. "Gather everyone and report to HQ."
It took time to assemble everyone together, no matter how organized and disciplined they were. Even though the orders had been given, the leaders were spread out over a large area and needed time to travel to the command centre. Not to mention the instructions they had to give before leaving. But eventually they arrived.
The command centre grew packed as everyone trickled in. The majority of the men and women were human, though there were several turians and krogan—and a smattering of asari and salarians. Most of the battalion leaders had brought at least a few members of their senior command staff to minimize the number of times they'd have to repeat the briefing later on. Before long, it was standing room only.
Anderson cleared his throat and the hum of conversation died away. Within seconds, he had our undivided attention. "We fought long and hard to get here," he said, getting straight to the point. "But now the toughest part of our mission begins." Pulling up a map of London on the holo-table, he zoomed in on a small area that included the FOB… and the Conduit. "We've got to drive right through the heart of Reaper-controlled territory, break past their defences and get to the Conduit. From there, we'll use the beam to travel to the Citadel, seize control and open up the arms so the Crucible can dock."
"What kind of defences are we talking about here?" I wanted to know.
"The entire area is crawling with Reaper forces," Anderson replied, moving the map with a flick of his wrist, "but our biggest concern is the destroyer protecting the beam itself."
"Can we bring in air support to deal with it?" Coats asked.
"Negative," came the reply. "Some kind of interference. Best we can do is use our gunships to establish a perimeter around the area and keep the enemy from sending reinforcements. As for the destroyer itself… we'll have to take it out from the ground."
Anderson made a swiping motion with his hand, causing the display to scroll through the map of London. The buildings were reduced to a rough polygonal approximation, but it was clear how much devastation the city had endured. "Now they've cut a swath, a no man's land, through the city. We'll have to cross that first. There'll be some limited shelter on the other side, but expect heavy ground resistance.
"We need to get our tanks to here." Anderson paused the map and planted a blinking NavPoint on a spot relatively clear of buildings and rubble. "If we get close enough, we've got a shot at taking that thing out."
The Reaper destroyer blinked off the screen with an ease that seemed overly optimistic, under the circumstances. Coats felt the same, judging by the expression on his face. "How much of a shot?" he asked.
"They know we're coming," Anderson said frankly. "This will be a one-way trip for many of us. But it has to be done. The Reapers have invaded our homes and slaughtered our people. There can be no retreat, no stepping back—not after everything they've done. The line must be drawn here. So we move forward, at all costs. Understood?"
The room erupted in cheers. Some gave a simple 'yes, sir.' Others cried out 'Hoorah!' (13) Together, we shouted out in a single voice that rippled through the area like a physical force. A shout of defiance that bolstered the will and resolve of every man and woman.
Once the noise died down, Anderson gave his orders. "Johnson, Coats: you two will coordinate the artillery units. Chan, take command of the gunships and give them whatever help you can."
As Johnson, Coats and Chan ran from the room, Anderson walked over to me. "Shepard, I'm sending you right up the gut where the resistance is heaviest. Support the tanks the best you can, but stay alive. I need you for the final push to the beam."
There were probably several reasons for why Anderson had given my squad this terrible task, but it really boiled down to two reasons. First, we had overcome insurmountable odds and turned defeats into victories, time and time again. Second, after everything we'd been through, we had to see this through to the end. None of us would have it any other way.
Anderson looked at my squadmates, then clapped a hand on my shoulder. "I'll give you a minute with your squad."
"Thank you, sir."
Anderson and the remaining soldiers departed, leaving the room to my squad. They looked at me quietly, waiting for me to speak.
"This war's brought us pain and suffering and loss," I began. "The pain of all the comrades-in-arms who fell on the field of battle. The suffering at all the innocents who lost their homes, lost their friends and loved ones. The devastation—both within and without—has been undeniable. And there will be more before the day is done.
"But this war has also brought us together—as soldiers, allies, friends. We've built bridges that no one thought could ever be built. We've found common ground on which to stand fast and stand together. That bond is something the Reapers will never understand. It's more powerful than any weapon, stronger than any ship. It can't be taken from us. It can't be destroyed, no matter how hard they try.
"The next few hours will decide the fate of everyone in the galaxy. Every father. Every mother. Every son and daughter. Every unborn child. They're trusting you… depending on you win them their future. A future free from the threat of the Reapers.
"And I believe their faith has not been misplaced.
"For we have fought for that future. We've fought from Mars to Menae. From Sur'Kesh to Tuchanka. From the Citadel to Thessia to the Perseus Veil. It was our sweat and blood that saw us through all those battles. After everything we've been through, after all the pain and suffering, the one thing I know is that we are not alone. We were never alone. And we can count on each other to get the job done.
"So when you go out there today, I want you to remember. Remember the fallen, and the sacrifices they made. Remember all the people out there, the people who have faith in us. Remember we face our enemy together, and together we will defeat them.
"Because some things are just worth fighting for."
(1): Out of all the accolades that Shepard received after his participation in the Skyllian Blitz, the erection of a statue in his honour bothered him the most. Perhaps his sense of modesty was offended by such a gratuitous display. Or perhaps he simply needed something to fixate on. (2): Sadly, the initial reports were accurate. The bodies of Corporal Una Thompson and Private Louise Dewhurst were eventually found amongst the dead, confirming their KIA status. (4): No, embarrassment is not a plausible cause of death in any known species. (5): Quarians refer to commanding officers of any ship as 'captain,' regardless of their rank, recognizing the authority and influence they have on their own ship—a tradition informally followed in the Alliance Navy. In this case, however, Tali was also conveying her respect to Shepard personally. (6): This suggests that either the communications tech was read into the Crucible Project or the situation was so dire that operational security was no longer a concern. (7): Precision Kill Rockets. (8): Exactly. (9): Kirrahe's speech on Virmire made him quite famous, much to his embarrassment. His chagrin was compounded after the war, when his speech on Earth received similar acclaim. (10): Technically, Javik had done so after our mission to Thessia, but this may have been the first time that he did so willingly and without any prompting. As for Shepard's other comment: I'd like to see (11): I am given to understand that the proper Irish saying is 'May you be in heaven a full half-hour before the devil knows you're dead.' (12): Once again, Shepard is his own worst critic. (13): A battle cry common to the United States Marine Corps since the mid-20
(3): While Shepard does not mention this, it is clear that he maintained an open comm-link to this frequency in order to stay apprised to developments as they occurred.
