Title: Duty
Pairing: None
Warnings: some reference to canon game violence
Summary: Shepard briefly reflects on the nature of duty as she races toward Harbinger.
Word Count: 362
Duty: noun - That which a person is bound by moral obligation to do or refrain from doing; that which one ought to do; service morally obligatory.
One last push and the war would be over. For the years of fighting since Sovereign appeared, the months of planning and negotiating during the war, for the losses and sacrifices, they were that close to the end. All that stood between them and victory was Harbinger.
Shepard swore an oath of duty to the Alliance at eighteen, a newly minted adult, to serve and protect her species both at home and abroad. She swore an of duty as N7 to uphold the highest standards of her rank in her service. As a Spectre, she swore and oath of duty to all species, to act as a vanguard for all. Her entire adult life had been devoted to duty, to being a good soldier.
But what made a good soldier? Did a soldier follow orders without question? Did a good soldier always win and save the day? Did a good soldier sacrifice themselves so others could live?
By that measure, she wasn't a very good soldier. On occasion, she disobeyed orders when she felt compelled to, she had been left on the losing side more times than she wanted to admit, and perhaps the most painful lesson of all, was that she in fact couldn't save everyone.
Strictly speaking, she had fulfilled her duty, her oath, to the Alliance and the Spectres when she died over Alchera. So what drove her now as she raced across no man's land? She didn't think it was duty alone that motivated her.
She'd never cite duty as the reason she walked away from Liara's outstretched arm and pleading eyes, begging her not to go. Duty wasn't the reason she ordered the Normandy away with her injured team safely tucked inside. In truth, she never looked that closely as to why she did what she did. It as a job that needed to be done, and she would see it through.
Her arms and legs pumped furiously as she sprinted past fallen soldiers and burning vehicles. The ground around her trembled as a Reaper narrowly missed cutting her down. She was getting close.
Maybe it was her commitment to her duty the drove her head first into danger. Maybe it was her desire to protect her friends and loved ones. Maybe it was something else too. As the beam drew near, the why didn't matter. One way or another, the war would end that day.