Not Your Fairy Tale

by HeroInTraining

But no one else would fight this war. She was Commander Shepard. Commander Shepard fights mander Shepard saves the day because that's what heroes do. She was so sick of always having to be the hero, but the galaxy still had need of heroes. Time to be Commander Shepard again. "Welcome to the Resistance."

p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The sky crashed down around her. Still woozy from being thrown into a table, it felt like the sky crashed down with the Reapers. Pandora struggled to her feet, nearly falling down again with how much the room spun. If she didn't have a brain injury from the fall, the debris would change that. The floor above took out the one beneath. The foundation around them shook. Every movement made everything swim more. A falling beam missed her by inches. Her eyes tracked it lazily. Then another, even closer. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Pandora Shepard!" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The voice gave her something to focus on. A direction to move in. A reason to get pulled out of the way of another flying table. The voice of her father, David Anderson. The only person who cared enough to save her, when the rest of the galaxy thought she committed genocide. The only person on her side from prison to whatever the trial was. She followed the voice towards the windows, blinking hard enough to set the world straight. She was at a trial. Then that ominous footage from Luna. Then a blinding red light and a sound she knew from her nightmares. Everyone else in the room was dead. The windows were completely destroyed, shards of glass cutting through her uniform. A Reaper loomed outside, focused on escaping shuttles scattered in the air. Pandora was right all along, and all it took to prove it was the end of the world. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""...we need to get to the Normandy," David was saying, sprinting down a ledge. Then he realized Dora still stood just outside, watching a shuttle get vaporized. "Dora, come on!" He jogged back. Her eyes signaled a nasty concussion at a minimum. "We need to get to the Normandy. Joker can get us off-planet." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The only word that registered was Normandy. That was enough. Normandy was safe, home, and filled with people who took the Reapers seriously. She turned to follow her father, explosions shaking the building. They seemed to be the only two who survived the trial. Ironic, given the circumstances, but it took the invasion to prove her right. Panicked shouts came from all sides. Even while running for her life Dora's eyes were glued to a shuttle going down in flames, soldiers dying for civilians refusing to flee, to the Reapers destroying everything in sight. She'd been sheltered during her time on Earth, limited to shreds of information Vega or Anderson or even Kaidan, when he finally grew a pair and resumed contact with her, smuggled in. Even that was highly censored. Her mental state was deemed too fragile to handle news that bleak. The wrong phrase might snap her beyond repair. Seeing her old crew might prompt an escape attempt or committing genocide again. Seeing her father wouldn't end well. Seeing Kaidan, the man to whom she was engaged and was once preparing to have a baby with, was too much. Vega became a friend, but starting as a jailor only set their relationship back, especially before she convinced him to loosen up on the rules. All those precautions, and here she was watching it all go to hell anyway. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"They kept running, past Husks and Cannibals and Reaper beams, until Dora came to a dead stop. They were inside a burning apartment building already left empty. David cleared a path ahead. Dora had lagged behind to cover him. She almost didn't hear it, but there it was. A faint cry for help. Coming from... an air vent? This was a perfectly legitimate situation to hide in whatever space would fit you, but in a building whose residents were either evacuating or turned into Reaper forces, the likelihood of a trap was high. Still, she couldn't abandon anyone like that. Couldn't leave someone to die at the hands of creatures hugging nightmares. Even if, especially if, it meant she might not make it herself. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Dora inched her way closer. The faint cries grew louder. They sounded young. Even better. A lost, scared child would slow them down and bond Dora to them more. Younger still, coming from the back of the vent. As she pried the grate off she said, "It's okay. You can come out now. It's safe. I'm a soldier. I can keep you safe." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"With the grate removed she could see a little boy. "It's not safe," he whispered. "You will fail to keep anyone safe until one day even you will fall. Your fall will fail the others, who will in turn fail you. The Reapers are superior to everyone, even you." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Dora stared at him. That sounded suspiciously like a prophecy, but prophecies held no place in wars. She didn't know what to make of it. Until another voice entered the room, scaring him off further into the vent, leaving Dora perplexed and David even more so. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""What's going on?" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""I don't know. There was a kid, and then there wasn't, and then..." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Another Reaper beam cut her short. "Come on. We have to keep moving. Don't trust your eyes out here, only your instincts." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Dora couldn't trust her instincts either. They only failed her the more difficult her life became. They healed some while she was in prison, but her entire body was still lined with glowing red wounds. They began when Cerberus pushed her farther and farther towards violent extremism. Miranda fought to undo how fucked up in the head she became when she first woke up on the station. Jacob fought to keep her sane as insanity ran rampant the longer they fought the Collectors. The Illusive Man wanted none of that. He wanted Dora making the hard choices, the wrong choices, so she would stay bound to his service. If she doubted her ability to lead people not locked into an organization, made choices in the name of the greater good, destroyed her very sense of self, then she wouldn't bat an eye when the time came to finally join Cerberus. They were the only people to accept someone riddled with proof of the morals she deserted. The Alliance bled her dry and Cerberus rebuilt her from death. They stopped just shy of promising replacements for Kaidan and their child. Had that been a possibility, Dora likely would have deserted entirely in favor of an acceptance of the person she'd become. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"She was surprised her father still trusted her. After everything she'd done, including the genocide to land her on Earth, here he was ensuring her survival. Awful wounds be damned, at least he cared more than the person she'd been fighting to come back to. He did far more than necessary to keep her from going insane while she was incarcerated. He somehow got Kaidan and Ashley to look at her again. And now he called for the Normandy, Kaidan and Ashley en route, to evacuate them. He trusted Dora to watch his back, say what she truly thought, and make the right decision. It was the most anyone thought of her in months. "Why?" she asked, loading a fresh clip into a pistol as Husks swarmed. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Why what?" It came out as a grunt, blending in with metal creaking of the door he hot-wired, buying them a few precious seconds of safety. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Why are you so insistent on trusting me? After everything I've done?" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Because you're my daughter, Dora, and no matter how badly the galaxy wants you to be some fairy tale princess, I know in war someone has to make the ugly decisions. You can make those decisions without letting them destroy you. You do what needs to be done, you know what needs to be done, and you do it in the best way possible. You would never blow up a mass relay without a damn good reason, never do even half of what the brass accused you of. I raised you better than that." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Just the reminder of where she came from was enough to spur her forwards. Enough to remind her that for how awful her time on Earth was, especially for a first visit, at least it didn't immediately turn into a court martial or solitary confinement with an Alliance-colored shrink. The former would kill her permanently, taking away the one thing she was good at and keeping her sane in one fell swoop. The latter would ensure a permanent stay in a psych ward while people who didn't have the faintest clue about the realities of war tore her psyche apart. Either way they'd prevent her from flying again. Her father saved her career and her sanity. Here they were trying to escape a potential home and betraying the people who betrayed them from the start. He stood by her side. If he managed to talk her oldest friends who were still alive into joining them, well, her personal feelings aside she would take all the help she could get. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The destruction followed them. The screams of the damned echoed around the Alliance plaza, each one more desperate than the last. The Alliance was in scrambles. For every person who made it to safety a dozen more died. All they could do was keep running, following Kaidan's voice to a spot the Normandy could safely reach. Safely being relative, but Joker could do the impossible and they were counting on that fact. Each passing second, filled with more death and destruction in one place than she'd ever seen, filled her with dread. Each flash of light and piercing scream was another soul Dora couldn't save. Another soul added to the countless others lost because somewhere along the line she fucked up. They landed her on Earth in the first place, and they followed her across its war-torn streets until they ended up at a large clearing overrun with Cannibals, no backup to be found, and increasingly empty clips. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Secluded behind an overturned hover car, the duo checked their supplies. Nothing much beyond a few remaining ammo clips and an assault rifle Dora scavenged from a soldier who died to give them a fighting chance. No sign of the Normandy. Nothing from Kaidan or Ashley, not since a barely legible warning that Reapers were starting to attack military transport vehicles. Comms were down. Extranet, omni tools, radios, anything they might have used to communicate was either scrambled or dead completely. Even the number of soldiers in need of help along their route shrank dramatically the further away from headquarters they got until it finally reached zero. It felt like they were the last two left alive. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The only one with ammo, Dora stuck her head up to fire another burst at the approaching Cannibals. There was no hope of rescue in sight. Her own clips were running low. "They're not coming, are they," she whispered, realization finally dawning that she would finally, actually die here, despite everything she'd done for the universe. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"David was silent. That alone was enough to scare her. He hadn't heard from anybody. He didn't want to impact her ability to make the decisions keeping them alive, but staying alive just took a backseat to being stranded on a planet doomed to the Reapers. Somewhere along the way he'd lost contact with Kaidan, never bothered to tell her, and likely had the same realization. This would be their true last stand, going down waiting for the Normandy, waiting for the ship both of them called home from its creation on. Joining the Normandy gave Dora a new life and here she was, waiting for it to be snuffed out by a Cannibal, something so mundane it nearly drove her to tears. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"She took a deep, settling breath. If she were going out it wouldn't be crying at hypotheticals. It would be guns blazing, taking as many of the creatures out with her as possible. David's face was a carefully constructed blank slate, eyes glued to the horizon, hands clasped firmly in his lap. All she wanted was the reassurance that she wasn't alone in this. All her life, David taught her to fight, fight to the very end, to give others a reason to fight their own battles. And here they were, him refusing to even look at her, reassuring her with white lies in the face of certain death, Dora preparing for the end. She was ready. Already chaining a sabotage attack to an incinerate blast, she inched her way to the edge of the hovercar. On the other side Cannibals formed a thick pool deeper than her measly assault rifle could handle. All it would take was a twitch of the finger. One final explosion and everything would be gone. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Suddenly the battlefield was awash in blindingly bright orange light. Pillars of flame shot up from the hordes as the ground itself ignited. Thunderous booms nearly shattered her eardrums. She was forced to recoil behind the car, curled in on herself against the painfully bright lights and raining debris, David throwing himself on top to shield her. It couldn't be the Reapers. They wouldn't attack two soldiers at random this methodically. Dora peeked out from the safety of her father, barely conscious from it all, and saw flashes of a damaged Alliance shuttle. Somehow it managed to avoid the Reaper's attention. It laid down one more round of covering fire before it landed beside them, the door opening minimally. Thanking the above for a way out, Dora started to uncurl from under David. That's when the world went black. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"o8o /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Five beeps went off before the alarm switched to an annoying ringing capable of waking the dead. One day she would remember to switch the tone to something that wouldn't end with a shattered clock. One hand shot out from the mound of covers to shut it off. Despite having the ability to fall asleep and wake up on command, it disappeared completely on shore leave. Shore leave was like a bonus vacation: to be spent solely sleeping and wasting the days away on anything not related to the Alliance. Said shore leave only existed because the ship she had been serving on sustained battle damage so great it barely limped into port. That left Dora alone in the apartment with nothing but her thoughts and a stack of paperwork only growing larger the longer she put it off until it was repaired. A week turned into two. She ran out of things to do around home, including the patience to sit still long enough to read through her old school paperback book collection. With two adults in the military, keeping much physical entertainment around was pointless. No word from her captain. All her friends were military; she couldn't even find someone to see a movie with. Then, almost three weeks of absolute boredom later, a message from Admiral Hackett appeared in her inbox. Seated before the family computer, Dora hit open. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Commander Shepard," the newly formed hologram began, giving no hints its living counterpart knew the young woman. "I have personally requested your reassignment to a top-secret Alliance project. Come to the Human Embassy at thirteen hundred. I'll be waiting. Hackett out." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The hologram blinked out. Dora stared at the screen in utter confusion. Even top-secret assignments shouldn't be this cryptic. Cryptic wasn't new to her, the entirety of N7 training attesting to that fact, but for this she had no idea how to respond. So she traveled first to her room, the one she had slept in since she was six, to change from the pajamas she'd barely left throughout leave into her daily uniform. Then she moved to the kitchen to stare into the depths of the fridge. She hadn't eaten all that day and barely at all in the past cycle. But the sight of lettuce near its expiration date made the decision for her. It brought hunger quenched by nausea and the feeling that if she ignored it, it might put her out of her misery forever. It was all connected to a place in her mind she refused to visit. Under orders of both N7 instructors and every captain she had served under, Dora returned to whatever medications the military psychiatrist prescribed her. But that didn't help how deep her trauma ran. All the medicine on the Citadel couldn't help what was laced through every fiber of her being. The door slammed shut. Any thought of food could wait. It was time to be a soldier again. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"o8o /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Stephen Hackett approached the secretary of the Human Embassy. She was in conversational chatter with the woman he actually wanted to see. Leaning casually against the booth, large cup of distinctly non-military labeled vanilla latte in hand, Pandora Shepard looked anything but a talented soldier. Perhaps that was a good thing. Anything portraying the Alliance as an extension of the common man was beneficial. "Commander," he said to catch her attention. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Immediately Pandora snapped to attention. In a second, she transformed from an average person to what her uniform described. Her hand moved in a salute. "Admiral Hackett, sir." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""At ease, soldier." As her posture softened and the coffee returned to her hand, he gestured her away to an off-shooting hallway. Then to a private office, and from there through to an overlooked doorway into an elevator. Shepard kept her features composed, following silently. A few years ago she would've attempted conversation, prodded him for information, exploiting a relationship. She really had grown under advanced training. "I'm assuming you have questions, Commander." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"What was she supposed to say to that? What the hell is going on? What do you want from me? Some combination thereof? She settled with, "What could be so top secret and so important only an N7 operative knows? Assuming you've covered your tracks. Sir." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Her first question and that's what she's concerned with? Interesting. Maybe she would one day be more than the average N7. "The Alliance and turian high command have been in consultation over a shared project to cement humanity's place in the galaxy. With turian technology behind us, we hope to debut this project with only the best humanity has to offer." The two exited the elevator to a door requiring both a passcode and a DNA scan. Motion sensor lights activated as they walked through one last hallway. "We've already filled every position except XO. Given your stellar record and command of advanced military technology, I insisted upon your inclusion." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Dora grew more confused by the second. "Sir, to what project are you referring?" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"They stopped abruptly. The door before them was marked with warnings about the vacuum beyond. "Welcome to the Normandy SR-1. The finest ship in the Alliance Navy." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Lights turned on outside, displaying the largest ship Dora had ever seen, decked out with the advanced weapons and shielding to match. Her mouth dropped open. Every so often a small shuttle floated out to the docking bay. Its signature shined brightest of all. "You're telling me you still don't have an XO...and you want me?" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Of course, Shepard. You've more than earned it. Besides, it'd help your captain to have a familiar face." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Back to being completely confused, she followed Hackett back out to the lobby. The secretary nodded at them both as they passed. Just outside the embassy Hackett turned to leave in his usual abrupt manner. But before he did, he pulled up his omni tool and sent out a ping, summoning a man waiting nearby. Only now did Dora's confusion lift again. "Dad?" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Commander," he said with a warm smile. "The commander of my ship. Captain of the finest ship in the Alliance, with the most capable second-in-command we have serving under me. What could go wrong?" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"o8o /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The day had come for the Normandy to start her mission. The newly instated Commander Pandora Shepard shifted nervously outside the entrance to the ship, the first person there to greet her new crew. As XO her unofficial job was to fraternize with everyone, get to know them and create a cohesive team. The best ship she served on had an aloof captain and an overly friendly command crew to make up for it. She always wanted to be an open, communicative, connected leader people actually wanted to work for. The Normandy SR-1 had to maintain its reputation as the new flagship of the Alliance with its crew working harder than its engine. A new, unproven commanding officer was an odd choice for such a reputation. Trying to untangle the logic behind her promotion only terrified her more. People's lives depended on her now. Whether or not those people liked her should have been an auxiliary concern, but there it was. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Pandora was the only person standing in the otherwise bustling docking bay with nothing to do. People gave her a wide berth; there weren't many N7s just standing around in public, she supposed. She wore bulky gray armor from head to toe, the extra padding around her joints pitch black, with bright red stripes down her arms. The white N7 logo gleamed on her chest. Her dog tags stuck out over top. Typically that went against regs when in full armor, but they were the only part of her uniform not emblazoned with an N7 logo, the only thing connecting her to her Alliance roots. Those dog tags were what she was meant to do. Every so often she'd reach up to check if they were still there, realize what she was doing, and clamp both hands behind her back. That was the only break in her military perfection. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"It couldn't have been more than ten minutes before the crew started to show up, but it felt like an eternity. First it was maintenance for the lower decks, people she would traditionally rarely interact with. To each person she gave a friendly smile and a firm handshake. Gradually the crew increased in rank until she was introduced to her top officers. A familiar face in the form of Dr. Karin Chakwas. Chief Engineer Gregory Adams. Navigator Charles Pressley. Pilot Jeff Mereau. Then a gap, long enough for Dora to catch her breath and put faces to names. She grew up on the Citadel, so she was used to learning dozens of new names and faces every day, but for an entire ship full of people operating under her command, this many people was enough to make her head spin. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The last handful of people approached. Her ground squad, if she remembered correctly, two Marines and Captain Anderson. Trailing a footfall behind her father, a young, wiry Marine made instant eye contact. She felt compelled to maintain it, not only as the superior officer but due to the intensity behind his gaze. There was something there already, something she felt instinctively, beyond acknowledging the people who were responsible for protecting her life. She looked briefly away to shake Private Richard Jenkins' hand, offering yet another smile. Then he approached. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, L2 biotic," he introduced himself, beating her in everything down to a firm handshake. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Commander Pandora Shepard. So you're a biotic. Adept or Vanguard?" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Sentential, ma'am. I never could get the hang of all the charging. So I see you're more than just an N7." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The top dog tag was the one displaying her rank as one of the first class of Infiltrators to graduate from the Alliance Academy. What was left unsaid were the special biotic abilities that allowed her to excel so quickly. The child of a powerful biotic who was unable to properly care for herself throughout her pregnancy, Pandora inherited the element zero necessary to give biotic abilities but not the means to use it herself. Her armor allowed her to turn completely invisible for a few seconds at a time, her trademark Infiltrator ability, and she was the only person of her class able to accomplish it. That was a fact she kept secret, both to use as a weapon if need be and because it set her further apart from her peers. It would take someone very well versed in Alliance lore to discover that. "N7 and Infiltrator, original class. I've been in this game for a while." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Just happy not to be the only one aboard, ma'am." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"She eyed him again. There was something more to that comment. "You're never alone, Lieutenant Alenko. Remember that." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"o8o /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Dora remained unconscious throughout the entire transport ride away from the fighting. It would have been concerning had it not been her making up for all the lost sleep from her time in confinement. Without any of her usual methods to distract herself Dora was up to watch the sunrise on a daily basis, alone with her thoughts that already tormented her without the weight of genocide added on top. Even James got concerned when he caught her with bags too deep under her eyes and scars glowing with her pain. Had it not been for the cybernetic enhancements flowing through her veins she would have done herself in on that alone. She slept through the tumultuous ride through London, finally waking in bits and pieces. First it was the pounding in her head. The incessant ringing in her ears. How even with her eyes only partially cracked the light pouring in was enough to make her want to vomit. Every fiber of her being aching. Plus the probable concussion and tinnitus. She never wanted to wake up again. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Dora? You there?" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"She knew that voice. She hadn't heard that voice directed so softly at her in years. That voice held her in contempt for decisions she was forced into. But still. Years of duty compelled her to answer that voice. "Kaidan?" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Thank God. You're okay. She's awake, sir." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Next time you call me sir I'm smacking you upside the head, Alenko." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Yes sir." This time with a smile behind it. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Okay was pushing it. She would've said alive, or in fighting shape if she was feeling generous. She'd fought in worse conditions. But alive she was, and somehow safe from the immediate threat of Reapers with her father and the man she once hoped to marry. There were others, too; faint voices barely registered in the background. She didn't trust opening her eyes yet, and all her voice was capable of was a light moan. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""I just made it to you in time. A moment later, and all those Cannibals..." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"As Kaidan's voice trailed off he kneeled next to her. She could hear his pants rustling, knees hitting the wooden crates she must be laying on, feel his hand slip into hers. A moment of silence for her to imagine being murdered by those creatures. Then, when she finally felt capable of speech, "You remember when we first met?" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""You mean aboard the Normandy? Of course. We could sense each other's biotics." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Not that. I told you you'd never be alone. You completely rejected me, thought I'd willingly work with some racist, terrorist asshole, and here we are, together again." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"He tried to rebut her comments like he did every time. There was no defending the awful things he accused her of, not on Horizon and especially not while she was locked up. But he was cut off by David. "You with me, Dora? We need you." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Just like that she was back in the action. Every private moment stolen by duty. Every attempt to reconcile things with Kaidan was taken by just one more thing, almost like the universe demanded them staying at odds with each other. Slowly, painfully, she dragged her eyes open fully. She laid on her back in a cold, dark room. Someone had draped a civilian jacket over her torso, but her breath still crystalized into puffs above her mouth. The air itself reeked of unwashed bodies, oil, and burning flesh, scents that brought her straight back to Akuze. Of course that memory registered before all else, startling her further awake. She bolted upright, feet dangling off the edge of several crates pushed together, immediately regretting the action. Her head felt like it might fall from her neck. Her vision and hearing harmonized together into a cacophony of sounds designed to shred her consciousness. The room itself was empty besides herself, David, and Kaidan, but the sounds from next door were enough to force her brain into overdrive. David was already out the door, forever moving with purpose, but Kaidan lingered at her side. He had one knee propped on the crates, uniform more blood than fabric, one hand lingering on her shoulder and the other unable to decide whether to go for her own or remain at his side. It fluttered closer, decided against it, and repeated the cycle as Dora sat there trying not to throw up. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Take it easy," Kaidan whispered, knowing how she reacted to head injuries. "They can wait. Nothing Anderson can't handle on his own." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""No." On her first try of standing on her own she wobbled precariously, collapsing back down so as to not vomit everywhere. On her second try she accepted Kaidan's help but only just, pushing him away the second she was stable. She didn't want or need his help. Not after everything he said to her. The only person she could trust was her father. At least he understood why she was stuck with Cerberus. Someone could see the bigger picture. Quashing the nausea and headache back, Dora righted herself and squared her shoulders back. If she didn't feel the part of a responsible soldier, she could at least look it. "I'm the one who warned everyone about the Reapers. I'm the one solely responsible for this. I can handle it." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""You're not alone in this fight anymore, Dora. It's not just you against the world. Besides-" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"She walked past him brusquely, the one person whose help she would never turn down and whose company she longed for ever since she first woke after the Lazarus Project, his words on Horizon still ringing through her ears. "You made it pretty clear on Horizon I'm on my own again. Just me and Dad, like it always has been." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""But Dora, I-" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""It's time for the adults to go to work, Kaidan." With that she pushed open the door and was met immediately with chaos. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"They were in what looked like a caved-in military bunker. Piles of scavenged weapons and armor were stacked everywhere. The stacks of food and clothing were far smaller. Maybe two dozen Alliance soldiers bustled around the small room, bouncing between the supplies, a damaged terminal in the corner, and an even more damaged war table in the center, where David stood having two conversations at once. Both were frantic, broadcasting the barely subdued panic permeating the room. Dora didn't recognize anyone in the room. All she recognized was the panic. She hadn't felt that level of sheer terror since she was a new recruit left alone on Akuze with a thresher maw. Everyone was a mess, but beyond that she didn't see anyone with rank. That left her, her father, and Kaidan in charge. Fantastic. They were all used to being in command, but the last thing Dora remembered was standing alone against the Reapers' army. The Reapers invading, the Normandy leaving them behind, waiting for the end... /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Her presence silenced the room. Every person stopped mid movement and stared at her. The Alliance had her blacklisted, but its people stared like she was the answer to their every problem. All the anger Kaidan sparked in her dissipated. Dora commanded the Normandy for over a year without a problem. She was used to leadership, managing a ship full of people, handling emergencies. She was not used to waking up in a bunker and taking control of people who had both disowned her and had a much better understanding of Earth's plight. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"David looked up last. "Commander, welcome to the Resistance." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""What is all this?" Dora stepped carefully around the awestruck soldiers to stand at her father's side. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""The Normandy was immediately targeted by the Reapers. Williams made it on board with Joker, but they were forced to retreat. Saving us would have doomed us all, as badly as they don't want to believe it. With the Reapers controlling the system there's no way back in. I don't even know if they made it out. We're effectively stranded." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Stranded in Reaper occupied space on a planet she had no experience with, without contact or backup, surrounded by people she had no experience with and creatures wanting her killed on sight. With only her, her father, and whatever the hell she classified Kaidan as now as leadership. And for what? To fight off the Reapers? To continue the war she started years ago and the galaxy at large still refused to believe in? To simply not die? Dora knew this day was coming for months. Instead of preparing the galaxy, she spent the time trying to convince the Council of its importance and then sitting in a jail cell for trying to do so. This was doomed. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Welcome to the Resistance, Commander," said a man busy cataloging medical supplies. "Perchance with you on our side we stand a chance." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Coates," David said warningly. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Ignoring it all, Dora stared at the war table. The information had to be inaccurate. There was no way the Reapers moved that fast. They couldn't occupy nearly an entire planet so quickly. No race could. Nobody would go down without a fight. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Tracking her gaze, David said, "People are surviving where they can. We have limited contact with other splinter cells, both military and civilian. But the Reapers hit hard. They're not just killing indiscriminately. They're setting up work camps. Taking prisoners. Creating more Husks. This is total war, Pandora. And you're the person best equipped to stop it." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""No one listened to me for years. It took working with Cerberus to make progress, and all that was undone by the Illusive Man. I can't do this alone again. Not again. I can't. Not without...without..." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Kaidan materialized beside her, like the past two years never happened. She shied away from his touch still, but allowed his presence closer than she would have before. Regardless of what he said before he was familiar, radiating strength, and she felt ready to collapse from the weight of the situation. "Part of the resistance, just like old times. This is a fight we're good at, Pandora. That you're good at. Everybody here respects what you stand for and will follow your orders. Our friends will do what they can throughout the galaxy. We'll do what we can from here. The human race won't go down without a fight." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"She couldn't do this without her team. They were what got her through working with Cerberus. The late-night talks with Garrus, Miranda carving out time to help her recover both physically and mentally, Chakwas and Joker making it their goal to ensure she never fell into the addictions tempting her around every bend. She couldn't fight a hopeless war with no support. She could barely grasp her current situation. Stuck on Earth, the Normandy unable to return, surrounded by strangers, her father behind her always and Kaidan a constant reminder of everything she lost two years ago and fought so hard to regain fruitlessly ever since. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"But no one else would fight this war. She was Commander fucking Shepard. Commander Shepard fights Reapers. Commander Shepard doesn't complain. Leads the best of the galaxy. Does the impossible with a set jaw and a cheeky one-liner from her friends. Commander Shepard saves the day because that's what heroes do. She was so sick of always having to be the hero, but the galaxy still had need of heroes. Time to be Commander Shepard again. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;""Welcome to the Resistance." /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"o8o /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Dora waited alongside her father in what was once the home team's locker rooms in the decimated biotiball stadium. They were surrounded by political prisoners, but the others tried their hardest to give the two some privacy. Everyone knew who David Anderson and Pandora Shepard were, what they had done, their part in keeping Earth alive for so long. They were responsible for every person in that room still being alive. Dora alone for leading both the resistance on Earth and the Normandy's throughout the galaxy. She fought on two battlefields at once and still survived for months. Fighting and winning for months, only to end up in some locker room awaiting punishment for making it this long. She leaned against David's side, fully aware of everyone else's eyes skirting around her, even more aware of the chains shackling her hands and feet together. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"It was bound to happen sooner or later. Their luck had to run out eventually, one risky maneuver too many, giving the Reapers their chance to take the leaders. Kaidan was out leading a supply run, a desperate need for water and medical supplies the only thing saving him from capture. David was preparing to lead a counterattack against Reaper advancement, down to making impossible decisions over who he could afford to lose and what supplies would be missed the least. And Dora had just returned from her own mission leading stranded survivors to their headquarters, still covered in blood and burns and nursing broken fingers from a frantic attack with her omni blade against a Marauder. She was refusing medical treatment and helping a woman wrangle her toddler when one of the snipers burst into the room, barely coherent from a nasty head wound, warning of Reaper forces inbound. Before anyone had a chance to react, those forces arrived. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The outskirts of their hideout were decimated instantly. Ground troops flooded in, sheer numbers explaining how they got through the defenses. Most were taken down, kicking and screaming like Dora taught them, but taken down nonetheless. Their men were slaughtered mindlessly. The Reapers knew their targets and stopped at nothing to ensure only those important enough were spared. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Dora understood that immediately. She'd spent the past months studying Reaper movements and plans, communicating with Ashley on the Normandy, learning everything there was to know about their enemy and how to stop them. She knew herself, her father, and Kaidan were probably the most wanted people on the planet, and herself in the galaxy at large. Getting captured would spell doom. Truly understanding that, however, meant abandoning her men and her family. She could never live with herself if she ran to save her own life. If David were to suffer at the hands of these creatures, so would she. So instead Dora willed herself invisible despite the pain, grabbed whatever fully loaded gun was closest, and fought back. Mowing down Husks, Cannibals, and Marauders, practically setting the building on fire with her Incinerate, becoming visible only long enough to reload before activating Tactical Cloak again. She had a bunker's worth of civilians to protect and dead soldiers to avenge. Property damage and discretion were the least of her concerns. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"David fought beside her, balancing her viciousness with strategy. David was the one who taught her that if capture or death was inevitable, she should take as many enemies as possible down with her. He was also the one who taught her to value the lives of her men as much as her own. He knew she took that lesson to heart. She would die for her men, and heaven help anybody who took them from her. Pandora Shepard was a dangerous woman to begin with, and a severely pissed off Pandora Shepard, one without any reason to hold back? There was a reason why she survived Mindoir, Akuze, Saren, the Collectors, and a thousand other traumas. There was a reason why it was Pandora Shepard tasked with preparing the galaxy for the Reapers. That reason hid behind the flashes of gunfire, the piles of mutilated bodies, and the roars of rage whenever another body fell. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"One of those roars was different though. It replaced the savagery with pain igniting every protective instinct in David's body. She fought like a god, but she was still painfully mortal. Everyone seemed to forget that except for David. Her flickering form, straddling the line between tangible and invisible, dangled from a Banshee's grasp. Its claws hooked around her shoulders. Its mouth opened in a horrible hiss as its other hand pressed against her chest, forcing its way through her shields. As her own wail of pain matched that of the Banshees', David unloaded his clip in its head. Dora's thrashing died down as its claws drew blood. David unloaded another clip. That finally worked; the creature dropped, bringing Dora with it. He bolted to her. Checked her pulse. Felt the rise and fall of her chest. Thanked the gods she was still alive and even partially conscious. She felt for his hands applying pressure to her sternum and refused to release them. David pressed down harder, ignoring his daughter's blood seeping through his skin, focusing entirely on how hard it was for her to keep breathing. He heard something behind him. Couldn't risk removing his hands to turn entirely, so he swiveled his head. Thought he saw a Marauder out of the corner of his eye. Removed one hand to grab his pistol; fumbled with the grip because his hands were so slick with blood. Watched the gun whip towards his head. Collapsed on his daughter's failing body, conveniently falling so his armor plugged the blood seeping from Pandora's chest. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Neither of them understood at first why the Reapers let them live. They could quash the resistance instantly by killing its figureheads. Earth would be gone in days, and from there it wouldn't be long to take the rest of the major home worlds. The two were allowed together solely because David knew how to keep Pandora alive. The Reapers needed her alive and gave him the minimum tools to accomplish the task. He knew emergency wound care, but when the wounds got infected and Dora got combative over their situation-stuck in a work camp, David needing to leave periodically to provide manual labor, kindhearted strangers keeping watch over her in the meantime-it was the perfect opportunity to eliminate them. Both of them should be dead by now. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Dora figured it out first, locked in a fever dream, resisting the antibiotics David tried to feed her that had arrived with their daily meal. By then keeping her alive took more effort than was justifiable in a work camp. The others around them were allowed to socialize with them, have alone time with the most dangerous person in the galaxy to their invaders. What started as a dream of a conversation between herself and Vega while she was in prison turned into the realization that, at least for the foreseeable future, she was more valuable alive. Pandora Shepard dying alone of some infection hidden away in a work camp would turn her accomplishments into legends. Word would spread like it did when the Collectors first destroyed the Normandy until the entire galaxy had a martyr to rally behind. A public execution would both confirm her death and quash any remaining attempts at rebellion. Making a spectacle of the Reapers besting Commander Shepard, alongside her closest allies, told the galaxy they were doomed. If Commander Shepard could fall, no one was safe. So the Reapers refused her a hero's death in favor of a reminder of how far she'd fallen. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"There they stood, waiting for gods knew what, Dora barely upright. Her treatments were far from professional, designed to keep her alive, but only barely. She was the trained medic, not her father, and when it was her in need of attention she counted on Kaidan or Miranda being there to patch her up. She had no idea how long they were locked up, but it was long enough without proper food, medical care, rest, or even a clean bed to lie on. They did what they could with clothing stolen from the dead, but it was a work camp. She counted herself lucky nobody actively murdered her in her sleep. She could barely walk without her father's steady hand on her back, even if that hand was shackled to the other. Before she would've come up with a plan to escape and get back to the Resistance. Now she saw no way out. They were going to die in the worst way possible because Dora failed. She had one task, to unite the galaxy against the Reapers, and she failed. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"They had been standing there for forever. Dora began to sway on her feet. She could feel her exhausted body fighting her brain's orders to stay upright. She wanted to sleep forever. Nobody allowed her to sleep for long while she was sick for fear of her never waking up. A valid fear, since David said her pulse dropped dangerously low several times, but he refused to realize their situation was hopeless. The hopes of the entire human rebellion fell solely on Kaidan's shoulders. While he was more than a capable leader, it was too great a weight for one person to bear. The three of them barely bore it together, and Kaidan and Dora were falling apart at the seams. They had finally reconciled their differences to come together again as partners, but even that was later used as a tool to give people a celebrity couple to rally behind. Constantly performing for the planet, the galaxy when they had contact with the Normandy, their every move scripted to fill the narrative the Resistance needed, neither of them could deal with the pressure. But they had to. Giving in meant the Reapers finding and exploiting a weakness. So they shoved it down and prayed it stayed there until either they won the war or the Reapers killed them all./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"They weren't leaving this stadium alive. The Reapers wanted their public execution and they had control of the airwaves. If Kaidan was smart he would stay hidden to keep the fight alive. As battered and bruised as Dora was, she understood their reality. David's arms curled around her tighter, ignoring those realizations. She understood him, barely. He was her father and his job was to protect her. When she was forced to share his grisly role he had to deal with his daughter risking her life right in front of him. Now he had the chance to delay her reality for a moment. Holding her up as the crowds around them thinned, he kept both hands pressed to her hip. There was a particularly nasty glowing red scar there, yet another visual betraying the difficult decisions she was repeatedly forced to make and the consequences put on display by the Illusive Man. Dora hid her face in his shoulder. She wanted to pretend she wasn't about to die. She missed her old life, missed being just another Alliance soldier, and wanted the impossible from her father to return her to the before times. She was done being a martyr and a princess. She wanted to be Pandora Shepard./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"A Marauder appeared in the entrance of the locker rooms. It ignored the few remaining people as it made direct eye contact with David. It was time. Dora stood as straight as her torso allowed to march bravely towards death. Despite their willingness to go quietly it still had its gun out, warped talon on the trigger, prodding them along. The only thing willing to make eye contact was the Reaper abomination. The others stared at the floor as they passed. Dora felt their relief radiating from their bodies; relieved that the spectacle of their deaths would take the attention off their own and buy them a few more moments. Despite everything she couldn't blame them. Since the Reapers invaded every moment was precious; waking up in the morning felt like a miracle. Nobody understood that better than them. Especially better than Dora. She already lived a miracle in being reborn through the Lazarus Project. Every moment since felt like borrowed time. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"Eventually they reached the entrance to the stadium field. The turf had been stripped away to reveal the concrete pad underneath. The bleachers were replaced with the corpses of everyone unlucky enough to come before. The sight brought tears to Dora's eyes. Everyone she'd been fighting for and with, tossed casually aside so the cameras could focus on the next victim. She almost didn't want to know what words accompanied the broadcast. The stadium was eerily silent with nothing but the wind, but whatever narrated the stream only spewed lies. The entire resistance ending in a silent stadium with nothing but a gunshot punctuating its existence./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"At first she didn't register the gun poking her back, urging her forward. By the time she did she couldn't get her legs to move. Her brain focused on the piles of bodies. Instead the gun smacked her head, its force sending her forward and her head exploding in pain. David did not dare speak, but his hands steadied her as she lurched forward. Her vision went dark for a second. If anything the pain was welcome. It gave her something to focus on beyond the impending doom. She stumbled forward, blinded as her vision slowly returned to normal, stopping where, in another life, tipoff signaled the start of a normal friendly sports competition. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"David stood several paces in front of her. He squared his shoulders and stared the cameras down. He knew that as Earth's leader and responsible for continued contact with the Normandy he would be the first to go. Dora's execution would be the spectacle as the galaxy-famous one, reminding everyone watching of how far they'd fallen, that resistance was futile. He knew he'd done what he could for his daughter, starting from the day he'd arrived at the batarian slave ship he'd rescued her from after the fall of Mindoir. Today was no better than that day, but at least the Resistance bought the Normandy time. Dora did what she did best: saving lives, even stuck on Earth./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The Marauder that led them aside stepped in front of David and leveled its gun at his forehead. The clicks escaping its mouth were incomprehensible to Dora, but she didn't care. Her hands and feet were shackled together, her brain still woozy from the past few moments, her body falling apart from longer than that. She could barely keep up with the past few days. This moment shocked her back to reality. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"With a single bang her father slumped backwards./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"She screamed. Face completely exposed to the galaxy, Pandora Shepard lost control and collapsed to her knees. It wasn't pretty, or dignified, or keeping with the fairy tale image projected to the Milky Way. The screams wouldn't stop. The tears never came. But the screams tore her throat to shreds. Even if it was only for a few moments, Dora was back to being completely alone in the world, just like after Mindoir. The Marauder ignored the body, letting his blood spill towards Dora. She watched it, unable to look at her father's bloody face staring blankly at the stadium doors, at freedom. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"She was dragged to her feet. Of course they didn't care about anything else. The pageantry beforehand was only a formality. A way of ensuring everyone knew the Reapers would win. Still she couldn't look away. At least Kaidan wasn't here. That thought forced its way through. At least he didn't have to witness this in person. Didn't have to watch the illusion shatter as Dora followed suit. She was no princess. No fairy tale survivor. She wasn't even a survivor anymore. She closed her eyes finally as the barrel of the gun pressed against her head. She couldn't cheat death again. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The barrel slipped slightly from the sweat dripping from her hairline. Explosions rocked the stadium floor. The barrel shook again. She waited for the shot. More explosions, this time closer, raining fire down around them. Why hadn't the shot fired yet? The barrel moved in place again. She heard the talon slide into place over the trigger./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.119999885559082px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; caret-color: #2a2a2a; color: #2a2a2a;"The shot never came./p