Requiem of the Goddess

by Yoshiyuki Ly

Goddess of mind, goddess of heart - closed-off without consent, She cannot flourish; unlocked to the universe in trust and control, She protects from all outside influences. Only one sits atop the throne of Shepard's subjectivity. Ashley/FemShep, Liara/FemShep. Miranda/FemShep, Aria/FemShep. Power plays, intense loves. Renegon Infiltrator FemShep. Spans the Mass Effect Trilogy.

18. N7 Infiltrator

"End Credits" from Shin Megami Tensei IV

XVIII. N7 Infiltrator

(Shepard)

Out of my control, my mind and my heart weren't my own anymore.

At the mercy of someone else's influence, I risked losing it all if I ever lost her.

My own capabilities determined by someone else's belief in me, someone else's devotion toward me—

My own skills didn't matter in the face of this, of the way she elevated me as a god in her undying love.

Losing my sanity, losing my life if I lost her: what had I become?

I wasn't a person anymore. I was an idea. I was that belief. And if that belief changed, then so did I.

And now, in the middle of this danger, all I could think of was her, what she'd given me, what we still shared:

These memories ached with the weight of tomorrow.

With this ache, I had to wake up. I had to find myself. Otherwise, I'd fall apart without her. I would collapse without her. I would lose everything without her. I had to stand on my own. Take back control.

My independence. My sovereignty. My own…free will.

Blaring, thundering, loud and deep—the sound rumbled through my head, arrogant and mocking.

Those same narcissistic, blustering blares from Sovereign, ego and esteem as a synthetic god:

They reverberated over and over again, all through me, warning me that I was doomed to fail, doomed.

Waking to the sounds of my omni-tool blaring, ringing in my ears, ringing from a call, ringing with desperation. My heart pounded in my chest with a stubbornness, a vengeance to keep me alive. Reminding me that I was here, reminding me of what I stood for—I could hardly stand this ache, aching more with this constant ringing, ringing.

I opened my eyes to the sights around me:

Enflamed, blazing—on my back, I had an upside-down view of a tree burning in yellow-hot embers. Those same fires raged on atop the still-lake not too far from me, ravaging the Presidium. Decimating the once-pearl white walkways as blackened ashes, most of the paths remained broken, turned to ashes, or collapsed and falling into that fiery lake. Mirrored as the same colors, the Citadel all around me had reddened in tint, the emergency alarms blaring and flaring in warning. Not another soul around, aside from the corpses floating through those flames of the lake, regular civilians and C-Sec officers alike had perished by the hundreds from what I could see.

Far above my head from where I lay here on the Presidium, the Citadel arms had closed, clamping off the usual artificial daylight here. The many glittering lights from the Wards along those arms had dimmed and died. Only webs and hints of the buildings' structures there glowed in the same emergency-red, entire cities' worth, once bustling with millions of citizens, now shut off and without life.

Even with these alarms going off, this place felt way too quiet.

Isolated.

That unused mass relay was nearby. None of the team had managed to follow me through the Conduit.

I felt like I might've been one of the few people still alive on this entire station.

Still lying down here next to the flaming lake and trees, I glanced around some more.

Not too far in front of me, the Citadel's asari VI, Avina, flickered in and out, spinning in place. Malfunctioning, she repeated her usual stock phrases for welcoming new arrivals, offering directions to places like the Upper Wards and the Citadel Tower, or providing historical details on the Council races, unable to comprehend the reality and the magnitude of what went on right now.

Not too far beside me was that outdoor ice cream place I had taken Ashley to on our date—it burned and burned alongside the trees here, the blackened corpses of the employees doubled over the front counter.

Far below where I was, perception and sight inverted, way beyond the burning trees in my way, I could've sworn I could see the sheen of gigantic blue-violet legs from a Reaper, from Sovereign, creeping and rattling in place like a spider, clawed somewhere.

That ringing sounded in my ear from my omni-tool again, insistent.

I answered the call this time.

"Shepard!" cried Ashley, her voice sounding as a godsend. "Shepard, is that you!? You finally picked up—it has to be you… Tell me you're still alive out there!"

Blinking away this vertigo in me, I tried to speak, "I'm here, Ash…"

"Oh, thank God you're all right! We've been trying to reach you for an hour! You are okay, aren't you…?"

"Yeah, for now… Don't worry."

Ashley couldn't have called me like this unless she and I were located in the same system.

The same system as the Citadel with the Council fleets, the Destiny Ascension.

She was here with the ship, with the team, probably stuck outside, while I was stuck inside the Citadel itself.

She knew that.

That one thing, on top of everything else, made Ashley's breath hitch as she listened to me breathe. She controlled herself for a bit, sounding like she was on her way to another part of the ship, to be alone with me like this. I imagined she was on the bridge of the Normandy, leaving to the empty command center.

Ashley held it together, but I heard how much she struggled.

"Talk to me," I requested, staring at these flames nearby. "Tell me how you're feeling."

Her soft laugh, at once cynical and relieved, thickened by her running nose. "Honestly, I'm so mad at you… I'm pissed that you just bailed like that! Doesn't matter that it was for the mission. That's not what I'm focused on right now. You ran off. You ran away from me, with no warning at all! After what Vigil told us, do you have any idea how much that messed me up?"

"Ashley, I'm sorry… I was overwhelmed. I wasn't thinking anymore. It was just…"

"Your instincts," she finished, sniffling. "Yeah. I know. Trust me, I know… That makes it worse."

Hating that I'd hurt her like this, I could only stare up at my sky, pained by her pain.

The mission was supposed to come first, but none of that mattered. None of that reached me—not after everything on Ilos, not after everything we'd learned. Not in the face of these things I couldn't let myself believe. Not when this seemed to be our new reality.

Ashley pushed this away as much as she could, needing to know, "Where are you, Shepard? On the Citadel, I mean."

"I'm on the Presidium," I told her, looking around some more. "There's an elevator nearby. I think I can use it to get to the Citadel Tower, find that master control panel. There's no other place it could be. I have to get there before Saren does."

"I don't like the sound of that… I know you have your cloak, but there are geth all over the station. Some of Saren's fleets flew in with Sovereign when the arms closed. He has the rest of his geth ships out here attacking anything that moves. The Council fleets and the Destiny Ascension are holding out fine now that the Alliance made it here. Is there anyone around you that's still alive? C-Sec? Any soldiers?"

I checked my schematics of the Citadel, scanning the entire station with my radar.

I picked up on Saren's signature somewhere down below, nowhere near the Citadel Tower yet, along with an army of geth covering every other location outside my immediate area.

All these corpses around, too: there was no denying the obvious.

Knowing that Ashley would worry more, I told her the truth, "I'm all that's left. Everyone else is dead."

"Damnit… Anderson and Udina are with the Council on the Destiny Ascension. So they're safe. The captain said they were about to interrogate him when the attack started. I think he'll be fine. But all those other people, civilians—there were millions of them there on the station…"

I reminded her, "And trillions more will die if I don't do this."

"I know. I know…"

Ashley knew, yet I felt her growing resistance, crossing this space that separated us.

This space, and her emotions clogging her throat—I couldn't ignore all the ways she still made me feel for her, even in the middle of so much uncertainty. I stayed here on my back, collecting the strength I needed to carry on. Collecting it from Ashley, from the way she hadn't given up, and from how she had kept going, fighting through her sorrow to get to me here, as much as she could.

And she still held herself together now, only letting the worst of her tears fall for me.

Because she knew Sovereign was here.

She knew what I was ready for.

She knew what else I may have had to do, if that was what it came down to.

"Hey, listen," I tried, gentler this time. "I have to do this. You know that."

Knowing, her vulnerability nearly broke her voice, pleading with me, "I don't want you to go…"

Nearly breaking me all the way, my heart picked up more, picking up these pieces. Aching for her, Ashley had reached at a part of me I never knew I had, shuddering those old instincts straight out from me. Listening to her breathe like this, restrained only for the mission, her muted agony carried across to me no matter this distance, no matter our plight.

Burning alight for her, I couldn't help saying, "I love you, Ash."

Determination brimmed through her brief laugh instead of cynicism this time. "I love you, too, Shepard… If anyone can pull this off, you can. Finish it soon, and come back home to me. I need you to—Skipper."

"I will, babe. I promise."

Sniffling one last time, Ashley said, "Call us back on the team's line, okay? They want to hear you. And we have something we want to ask. You're all alone out there, but we want to support you as much as we can. We're not taking no for an answer. Got that?"

"All right. I'll call you back."

Right after we hung up, I switched to the team's frequency.

Sitting up first, at least, I'd found my bearings.

Renewed from my talk with Ashley, I could go back to my usual tone and tenor with the others.

I couldn't let them hear anything less from me.

"This is Shepard," I told them. "You there?"

Joker's voice burst through first, "Commander, tell me you're not insane! I mean, you've pulled off some pretty crazy shit before. This is way worse than all of that combined! Are you seriously gonna solo the Citadel?!"

"I don't have a choice, Joker. We're out of options here. Did everyone make it back to the ship?"

Garrus replied, "We're all here and accounted for. Glad you made it to the Citadel in one piece, by the way. Just wish you weren't there alone. You had us worried back there."

"Yes, you did," agreed Tali. "You really did… You had us very worried. I'm relieved you're all right."

"Wrex is on probation," grumbled Ashley. "He's sitting by the airlock. The rest of us are at the helm here with Joker, keeping an eye on the fleets outside."

After Wrex completely fucked up for the second time in a row, I wanted to throw him out of that damn airlock as soon as I made it back there—right after I trashed that piece of shit Mako for myself…

Still, there were more important things I needed to focus on for the time being.

Feeling my stomach in knots now, I kept this discomfort out of my voice, "And Liara?"

The team went quiet.

Waiting, giving her a moment to respond. I knew she was there. I knew she was fine—physically.

But I also knew how Liara felt right now. Some of what she felt, anyway. I remembered that sleepy conversation we'd had during the first and only time she had slept with me in my cabin. Her concerns over my instincts, my habits of running away, and what she had predicted—I couldn't forget.

Tali spoke for her, gentle, "Liara is here. She's standing right next to me. But I think she's in shock… Or traumatized somehow. She hasn't said a word since we got back to the ship. She's just…staring at a wall. Completely blank. We tried getting through to her. It didn't work. I'm pretty sure she's listening, at least."

If she wouldn't say a word now that she could hear me, then…

"Understood," I accepted, swallowing back this sting. "I have to get going soon. Ashley said there was something you wanted to ask me for. What is it?"

Joker requested, "So, since you're gonna be the hero and all, we want to keep an eye on you, too. Any chance you could use your omni-tool to broadcast a live vid to the Normandy, here on my console? You know, to help us see where you're going, if you're okay. Like, yeah, we trust you. This is kind of a big deal, though…"

Something told me that Ashley was the one who came up with this.

Looking down at my omni-tool, I set up the live feed. I prioritized all audio to reach them through our radios instead, and then hit record.

Nearly everyone let out a sound of surprise once they saw my face again, scowling down at them out of habit from this angle. They reacted more from this sight of the rest of my surroundings. I hated cameras like this. I hated recording myself. This wasn't the time to protest any of that, since I did appreciate how much the team cared. I let them look at me for a bit longer before adjusting their view.

Changing the video to record from my eyesight instead, I heard their reactions again to seeing the rest of the Citadel directly from what I could see: those fires burning, the Avina VI flickering in and out of view, and all of these corpses, everywhere. I stood up with their worries, their concerns.

There was no turning back from this.

Even though I knew my way around, I brought my schematics for the station back up through my omni-tool. Knowing that the team watched every little thing I did, I routed a path from here to the Citadel Tower. I checked my radar as well: Saren was still a ways out from the tower. I had enough time to catch up before he could help Sovereign open the mass relay, before they could bring the Reapers back.

"I'm heading out now," I said, looking to that elevator off on the left side. "Keep me updated on the fleets. If they need you out there, then Ashley is still in command. I'm going into stealth mode, so I won't be able to speak freely. Not unless I absolutely have to."

"Roger that, Commander," said Ashley, resolute. "We'll be right here with you."

Cloaking with her promise, I pushed on ahead.

Pristine white, untouched by the wreckage outside, I took the elevator up as directed.

Hearing everyone's varied, distinctive breathing in my head almost threw me off as I waited. Garrus seemed the calmest out of everyone. Tali sounded a bit fraught, fidgety. Joker kept mumbling curses in a worried sort of awe. Wrex sighed every so often, clearly blaming himself for my situation. Liara was quiet, so quiet, I almost couldn't hear her, yet that familiar, misty sense to her voice had filtered through to her breaths anyway, so ethereal.

As for Ashley, she stood out from the rest. The way she pushed through her own fears, breathing harder, more determined—it almost distracted me, because I wanted to say something to her. Anything. I wanted to take this all back; I wanted her here with me by my side.

Almost as a mirror of my own breaking, the lights cut out. The elevator stopped. Nearly throwing me off my balance from the suddenness, I pressed my hands to the glass out in front of me. Malfunctioning. I couldn't find an elevator panel to get this working again, and there was no emergency exit in here.

Glad that the team reined in their possible commentary, I saw my solution through their silence.

Rerouting with my omni-tool glowing in the dark, I found my alternative:

Outside past this glass, I had a clear path to take through the maintenance shaft filled with geth.

I put on my N7 breather helmet. I bent down, switching the settings on my shoes, changing them from combat boots to mag boots. Reinforcing my stealth suit, this would act as enough pressurized protection until I could make it to the Citadel Tower.

Firing my pistol, I blasted the glass open out in front of me.

Shards of transparency flying out, floating down and around: the lack of gravity sent those pieces everywhere. I looked down at that everywhere, balancing myself here. The closed arms, the emergency-red view of the Wards' cities lined and shining in an isolated danger—they stretched on and on across that endless drop. My mag boots caught me at the short fall from my own drop, switching my perspective.

Sovereign's claws lifted and settled again from where it sat in place just atop the tower, mocking me, again.

I ran toward it, for now, still cloaked as I made my way to the elevator's maintenance shaft. Lights along my new ground lighting my way, I listened for those geth as much as I stared at their positions here on my radar. Patrolling units of geth troopers, rocket troopers, and shock troopers—if any of them heard me, or spotted me, their pulse rifles or rockets could have easily taken me out. I had nowhere to hide in this place. So I needed to be smart about where I moved, how I moved.

I found the geth closest to the glass of the elevator, patrolling there with their weapons at the ready.

Crouch-walking along the walls, I maneuvered with my mag boots, up and up, and around.

Staying low, staying quiet, I avoided those geth. Staying far away from their mechanical stuttering sounds, I listened to them as closely as I could with the team's tense breathing in my ears. Staying on my own, I took no risks, keeping a fair distance from everyone and everything; keeping those hostile units in my periphery, sticking to the path ahead.

Just past here, I found more geth along with some of those same krogan from Virmire. Wielding shotguns and brute force, but mindless, they posed no threat to me. I snuck past their large, hulking forms.

Up a long ramp to a new area, I found a bunch of the Citadel's defense guns lined up.

I just had to make it past more of these guns, and back to the maintenance shaft.

As I found a safe spot to uncloak and sit for a moment, Joker had an urgent message:

"We're getting a distress call from the Destiny Ascension! Looks like some smaller geth fighter ships snuck through their defenses. Geth units are aboard, and they're trying to assassinate the Council! Captain Anderson's there, but he doesn't have any weapons on him. He won't be able to help!"

The Council, Ambassador Udina, and Captain Anderson were all on that ship.

If it were only the Council, or Udina, I wouldn't hared nearly as much.

But the Council did believe in me. They had given me this once-in-a-lifetime chance to prove myself.

Ashley deferred to me, "Commander, if you're free to give the order, I'll follow. If not, then I'll make the call. We can activate the Normandy's stealth systems and get through. Do you want us to help?"

"You're clear, Chief," I responded. "Get to the Destiny Ascension. I'm not going to lose any sleep if you can't find Udina somehow. Save Anderson and the Council!"

"Aye, aye, Sir! Joker, take us in. Everyone else, get your weapons from your lockers! Be ready to engage the enemy as soon as we make it aboard!"

Joker and the others, except Liara, gave their verbal acknowledgment of Ashley's orders.

No one said anything to Liara, to snap her out of whatever debilitating shock she may have been in. I assumed she followed along with the group, setting the rest aside for the time being.

As they went, streaming my live feed to their individual omni-tools instead, I cloaked again, pushing on.

Geth ships converged around my location once I made it to the next area.

Saren had to know that I was here by now, and so he sent these dropships after me.

Still unseen, I activated the defense turrets around me, taking out those ships and stray units all at once.

The booming sounds of those turrets firing, the team's gunfire as they boarded the Destiny Ascension, and Ashley's quick-time orders to everyone as she led them through: it all should've distracted me, especially once I switched back to stealth, sneaking past the rest of the geth and krogan still in my way. The ongoing turrets behind me masked the already-quieted sounds from my mag boots creaking in this effort to keep me grounded.

Listening to Ashley's tactics, I approved of how she'd chosen to prioritize speed over efficiency.

I would've done the same in her position.

"Tali, hack the geth on our left flank! Make them waste time fighting each other! We need to push ahead, faster!"

"Right, I'm on it!"

The team kept an eye on me even during their assault on the geth on their end. Even though they trusted Ashley to lead them, I felt the way they fought harder, just from getting to stay with me through their omni-tools.

If I fucked up somehow, then that would throw them off in the worst possible ways.

Yet another reason to stay as silent as possible, pushing my tactical cloak as hard as it could go.

"Garrus, get these shields down for us! We don't have time to force our shots through!"

"You got it, Chief!"

Seismic vibrations from the defense guns punching my eardrums, I crossed this long, long path of more turrets, more geth dropships. Shining lights from the Wards and the Citadel arms as my ceiling, the air around me felt as a war zone, with every single enemy focused on finding me, one way or another. Units of geth platforms had started shooting their pulse rifles in random directions, trying to catch me. The geth ships did the same with their weapons, at least until the Citadel's defenses took care of them.

I stayed low and kept my head down, following the path of destroyed dropships to the next safe location.

"Wrex, help Liara control the crowd behind us! When you're done, meet us in the next room!"

"Helping with those detonations now!"

Existing on the opposite end of these geth, and constantly shifting to meet that existence—

No matter my invisibility, I wished I were a ghost, otherworldly and untouchable.

Dodging these geth was too much like avoiding mines out in a field.

Mines that kept changing locations, changing directions, changing in size and scope and destructive power.

This labyrinth of a minefield, I did my best to navigate anyway, knowing that I couldn't make this any easier. I couldn't use my pistol or my sniper rifle. I couldn't fire a single shot, otherwise I risked alerting the enemy to my location. If they converged on me, I wasn't sure if I would be able to run away in time. If I'd had the team with me, then we could have charged through, killing everything in our way, together. By myself, I had to focus on survival. Not like Torfan, where I'd had the range and the opportunity to snipe down every batarian in my way, getting rid of anyone nearby who could have compromised me somehow.

The entire Citadel was a maze of compromises, of compromising situations right now.

Even dealing with the beginnings of a splitting migraine from my implants tearing at my brain, I kept going anyway. Intent on finding a safe spot in between these blasting landmines of geth platforms and their dropships, I only needed a few seconds to uncloak. Uncloak, reset, and find my bearings. And I couldn't make a sound, either, not even to groan over this discomfort. The geth might've heard me. The team might've heard my weakness and lost focus, lost morale.

Hearing Ashley's continued directives and the sounds of fighting on her end helped me again, more.

Rounding a sharp corner, I found my way back to the maintenance shaft; found a safe spot to breathe for a moment. Double-checking to make sure I was alone, I dropped my cloak. I sat down on the ground, breathing, listening.

No one was nearby. Nothing was over here, save for the glass of the elevator shaft in front of me, hollow and darkened from misuse, from the malfunction earlier. I saw myself there in the glass, watching my reflection as I caught my breath. I used that same reflection to keep a third, fourth eye out behind me, watching as the Citadel's defenses kept punching back at the geth ships overhead.

Sensing my exhaustion, and seeing the same through the live feed, Ashley let me know, "Commander, I think Udina and Anderson are with the Council up ahead! The geth killed almost all of the security guards and soldiers aboard. This is the only door that's still locked. We stopped the enemy before they could break through. They were pretty intent on getting here, so this has to be it!"

Forcing myself to give the standard tone—"Good work, Ash. Get in there and see if you can find them. Make sure they're unharmed. Whatever the case, have Joker update the fleets on the Council's status."

"Understood. You keep going, too! You can do this. We believe in you, Skipper."

I should've only needed a minute to recover.

Not even that—seconds.

This headache clawed at me, pulsing and throbbing now.

If I kept this up, there was no way I'd make it to that master control panel in time.

Holding Ashley's words close, I looked around, spotting an escape hatch a little farther down by the elevator shaft. I rerouted my path on my omni-tool again, using this hatch as a new start point. Crawling through the vents there would take me a little longer, technically, but I wouldn't need to cloak. In reality, I could move faster without needing to stop and refresh my implants. Normally, though, moving through the vents on this station was impossible, since they were like an ant farm meant for the keepers to navigate on their own, away from our view.

I trusted my schematics for this. Cloaking again for now, just in case, I went over to the escape hatch.

I lifted this steel door and crawled through. Finding enough gravity and oxygen in here, I took off my helmet and changed my boots back to my regular combat settings, to help me move faster. Narrow, but with a decent amount of space to move around, I crawled across unseen and undetected, giving my implants a much-needed break for the time being. And I could finally escape all of that noise from outside. Quiet except for the soft clicking sounds of the keepers' claw-like movements echoing through the vents, I found some measure of peace again.

Spotting some keepers tinkering around off in other directions, they were definitely off in their own world. Like Vigil had said, they'd outright ignored the directives they'd already received to open that mass relay for the Reapers out in dark space. They found other, seemingly random things to work on instead, toiling away at monitors or repairing other station functions in their reach. Whatever they were doing, they didn't care to acknowledge me, leaving me alone to keep moving through these vents. I knew that they noticed me crawling through their space here.

They were apparently content to pretend like they didn't see me at all. So I pretended like I didn't see them, either, continuing on.

I remained vigilant and sensitive to any sudden changes all the same.

The keepers weren't known to be hostile in the slightest. I still couldn't afford to take any chances.

"Captain Anderson!" called Ashley, sounding like she rammed her fist against a door. "Ambassador Udina? Councilors? Anyone in there? It's safe to come out now!"

Anderson's muffled voice from behind the door—"Chief Williams? Ashley! Is that you?"

"Yes, Captain! I'm here with the team from the Normandy!"

"I'll get the door!"

Ashley asked, "Joker, you getting this? Sounds like they're okay. We'll head inside to make sure. Give an update Admiral Hackett and the other fleets."

Joker answered, "Yeah, I heard Anderson just fine. As soon as I get confirmation, I'll let everyone know!"

I let myself smile a bit, glad that Anderson was okay, and that Ashley had pulled through.

"Well, aren't you all a sight for sore eyes!" said Anderson. "Come on in, take a seat. You look exhausted!"

The asari councilor sounded unharmed, too. "Chief Williams of the Alliance, was it? We are in your debt. You found us just in time. Thank you for your heroic assistance."

"Indeed," agreed the salarian councilor. "We were all but certain that the geth would find us."

"That was unfortunately the case," added the turian councilor. "I'm relieved that you responded to our distress call. Each of you have our gratitude."

Udina was reluctant to chime in, "We are certainly grateful, yes… But where is Commander Shepard? Shouldn't she be here with you? Why are only the five of you here?"

Ashley bit back her retort over his scheming from before, replying instead, "The commander's currently on the Citadel, trying to get the arms open again. I'm her second-in-command. I carried out her orders to save you." She showed them her omni-tool. "Shepard's broadcasting her progress to us in real-time. She can hear us, too. She's going to get this done."

"Commander…?" spoke Anderson in a quiet awe. "Is this true? That's you there now, in the vents?"

"Yes, Sir," I responded. "I'm making my way to the Citadel Tower now to stop Saren in his tracks."

Udina groused, "Those vents are like an ant farm! Getting through will be impossible!"

"Please, Ambassador," scolded the salarian councilor. "There is no need for pessimism at a time like this. The commander's team saved us from assassination at the hands of the geth. The commander herself managed to find her way onto the station in the midst of the attack, after we believed all was lost. Can you not find it in your heart to be the least bit hopeful about her prospects?"

"I must agree," stated the turian councilor. "Not to mention, Commander Shepard has access to our very own personal schematics of the station, as per the resources we gave her as a Spectre. She is likely the only one still alive on the entire Citadel aside from Saren and his synthetics. We must believe in her."

"Absolutely," said the asari councilor. "We made the mistake of doubting the commander before. Even in the face of our errors in judgment and undue punishments, she chose to do this. She chose to send Chief Williams and her team to aid us. She has done more than enough to earn our trust."

Udina had nothing else to say, seeing as he was partly responsible for this gigantic mess in the first place.

Anderson was still amazed—"Shepard, this is a hell of a feat you've managed so far. I believed in you to find the Conduit. Now it seems it's led you right back onto the Citadel. We couldn't have asked for better luck, though I wish you weren't on your own out there… Still, you're the best damn infiltrator in the galaxy. You're the only one who can pull this off!"

The salarian councilor wanted to know, "What does Saren hope to achieve with all of this? Why is he on the station with that massive ship of his? And what exactly did you discover on Ilos?"

While I crawled through this last stretch of the vents, Ashley and the others took the time to explain everything, to answer the Council's questions.

Tali provided them with a copy of Benezia's notes and Sovereign's schematics for additional proof.

As for the reasons, the details behind what Vigil had said about me on Ilos, the team didn't get into that.

They couldn't.

Even I didn't fully understand how things had turned out this way. I only knew for certain that I was ready—the team made sure to emphasize this to Anderson, Udina, and the Council, no matter their incredulous reactions and hanging disbelief. The story of how I was ready, and who had brought me here, they left vague on purpose, only explaining that it was someone who strengthened my willpower.

Whatever the Council assumed from there couldn't matter to me.

They chose not to ask questions about it, anyway.

Giving me the benefit of the doubt, and giving my team the benefit of the doubt, they believed us.

Finally, they believed.

Once the Council had their explanations, their questions answered, everyone went quiet.

They watched as I crawled through to an elevator, taking it to the Citadel Tower.

No malfunctioning this time—I soon arrived at the correct floor, and the elevator doors opened.

Again, just in case, I activated my tactical cloak, entering to what had become of this place:

Rising red-golden flames up above, at either side of my path—the cherry trees there burned as the Presidium did. This pathway, unobstructed by those embers, led me up the stairs and to the fountain barely bursting in the beauty it once had before. Overhead, everywhere, this same tint of autumn warmth glowed all around, surrounding me in what should have been peace, and more beauty, even as the light from the massive window at the far side continued to beam light into the tower.

Anderson, Udina, the Council, Ashley, Tali, Garrus, and Wrex: I heard their own comments and grievances over the state of the Citadel Tower.

Liara still wouldn't say anything. But I knew she was there, so I couldn't worry too much.

No geth around, no enemies whatsoever—at least not yet.

I proceeded up the flights of stairs, past more trees—some on fire, some not—and past the rock gardens. I stayed just below the length of the upper balconies and floors, devoid of all the usual politicians and visitors around. I walked closer to that tall, tall window there behind where the Council usually stood as they passed judgment down on us, past more of these stairs, these purposeful defensive positions.

Glimmering in the light shining in from that window, I soon reached the top, and found my dilemma.

Extended and elongated, the path before me had connected nearer to where the Council typically stood. With that connection, a wide panel had formed at the end there, with a bright display stretching on. At that panel, in front of the display was Saren, typing there with his back to me. His own kinetic barriers shined in the window's light, reminding me of my limitations. Even if I wanted to shoot him, take him out myself—I couldn't. With my full concentration back on Virmire, I wasn't able to breach his defenses with my sniper rifle.

Through my radio, I heard Udina's insistence, urging me to kill Saren now, while he was vulnerable.

My team explained why I couldn't.

Everyone fell silent again, not knowing what to say this time.

All they could do was believe in me.

I couldn't turn back now.

So I stepped closer to Saren, well-aware that he sensed me here. I moved just close enough, knowing what I risked by doing this.

Saren stopped his typing on the console, locking something out there in red. Stepping back onto his damned hover device, he raised himself above me. Turning to face me, he sneered down at my cloaked form from where I'd stopped, spotting me with ease.

"Such wonderful timing, Commander," mocked Saren. "Whatever you've accomplished in making it here on your own will not matter. This is already over."

Seeing no point in hiding anymore, I deactivated my tactical cloak.

If I made a run for the panel, Saren would only gun me down. That would've been a stupid risk.

I stayed put instead, glaring up at him—remembering my honor.

The way his eyes glowed in a bright blue, indoctrinated—he had clearly lost his honor, if he'd had any in the first place.

Saren kept on disparaging me, "You've lost. You know that, don't you? It is only a matter of time now." He pointed up, up above the tower. "Sovereign will have full control of all the Citadel's systems. The relay will open. The Reapers will return." When I still couldn't say anything, he almost laughed. "I allowed you and your team to survive our encounter on Virmire. But I've changed since then. Improved. Sovereign has…upgraded me."

"I can see that," I told him, monotone. "You gave up on trying to resist its indoctrination, then."

Pausing for but a moment, Saren disregarded the implications of what I said, ranting on: "You don't understand, Shepard. There is no resistance. There is no way of adequately fighting back. I finally accepted this once Sovereign blessed me with these implants. It strengthened my resolve. Surely you can understand that, can't you?" He knew this wasn't the same, not at all; somewhere, I sensed that he knew, and that he fought against this. "I believe in Sovereign completely. The Reapers need organics. Join us, and Sovereign will find a place for you, too."

I scowled more over his damned weakness. "I'd rather die than live like that."

"Then you will die. And your companions. The ones you love. Everyone you know; everyone you've ever met. Don't you see? You will all die! The Reapers can't be stopped. Not by the Protheans and their foolish methods, their ridiculous hopes and dreams. Not by you with the same. How can you dare to think you could stand up to the might of Sovereign, of the Reapers as gods!? The cycle always continues!"

"Sovereign hasn't won yet," I reminded him. "I can stop it from taking control of the station! Step aside and the Reapers won't invade! Not today—not before we're ready. If you give us a fighting chance, we can defeat them this time! You have to believe!"

"We can't stop it!" raged Saren. "You saw the visions. You saw what happened to the Protheans! The Reapers are too powerful. Why should the galaxy place their trust in you to save them? You are but one woman, Shepard! This is beyond foolish. Don't be reckless! We must submit ourselves to their will!"

"Saren, don't be ridiculous. You're better than this! All that talk of protecting yourself from indoctrination—you had to know that this is possible. You had to know that the Protheans did find a way to fight back against the Reapers, and that it worked. They succeeded, even if it was too late! All we have to do is follow in their footsteps. I'm prepared to do that if you step aside right here, right now."

Breathing harder now, considering—Saren's eyes flickered from bright to normal, and bright again.

Staring deep into my own eyes, into my resolve, he seemed to remember something.

"Maybe you're right, Commander… When last we saw one another on Virmire, I sensed…that you were not ready. You had not embraced the truth of your greatness, just as I had planned. All the while, I sought to throw you off at each turn. To set you down the wrong path. It appears you discovered what I tried to do. Or perhaps you have not. You simply went with your instincts. Either way, I have failed…"

"Throw me off?" I questioned. "Set me down the wrong path? What are you talking about?"

Saren lamented, "It does not matter anymore. Sovereign is too strong… I'm sorry. It's too late for me. Still, I struggle with this outcome. Even if you are ready, Shepard, are you prepared to carry this burden for the rest of the galaxy? Should the one strengthening your mind stop believing in you—should your deep connection with her dim or perish, then that is the end of the solution. Trillions of souls will be doomed because of your failure to love another person completely, unconditionally, when we both know that is your truest weakness. Why should I accept your deeply flawed methods over my own?"

Staring up at him so high above me, I stepped closer to Saren, closer, needing to appease him:

"Listen to me, Saren," I said, firm. "I understand your doubts. You wanted a sure thing. Hell, when I first found out about all of this—resisting a Reapers' indoctrination, disabling its shields by pure belief—I was skeptical, too. I get why you thought it was best to make us all surrender instead. The fact of the matter is, you gave up. The Protheans only failed because they didn't have time! If they'd had time, if they had been prepared, then they could've broken the cycle. It's up to us now to finish what they started."

Considering my words, more.

Saren retrieved his pistol from his hip, thinking, thinking.

All of these ashes around us, and the ashes of the Protheans—he considered what had become of them.

"No, it is up to you… You, and the one you have yet to fully accept into your heart. And when you do that, should she somehow fall out of your favor, everyone else will suffer. Quite the risk for a lone wolf."

"If I have to sacrifice my sanity, my limits, and my own life for her, then I'll do it. This is who I am!"

Accepting my words, my resolve at last, Saren lowered his head for a moment, eyes closed.

When he opened his eyes again, that indoctrinated-blue glow had disappeared.

Temporary, only temporary in his shame.

His failures, except for this.

"Shepard… Thank you."

Saren raised his gun to his neck, angling up.

Firing his pistol, he shot straight through his skull, blood firing from his head in noise. He fell down below the platform. Glass shattering on impact, his corpse fell through to the rock garden. More glass from his descent knifed through his skin, his vitals. He was gone.

His hover device fell to the ground near the master control panel, clattering there.

With those sounds, almost everyone through my radio finally whispered out their disbelief, their relief.

This wasn't over yet.

I went over to the master control panel. Finding Saren's progress in handing over the Citadel to Sovereign, he had locked out the possibility of undoing any of this. So I checked my omni-tool for that data file from Vigil, the override to take back control of the station. But when I tried to upload it, I ran into a problem:

This file didn't work.

It was supposed to. It had to. I couldn't open the Citadel's arms without this.

Searching for the root cause, I found the reason for this setback.

Above my head, outside, at the pointed top of the Citadel Tower, Sovereign had overpowered the master control panel, preventing anyone from taking its access away. It hadn't opened the mass relay by now. It hadn't forced the rest of the Reapers to pour through from dark space, destroying us all. Making the best guess I could, Sovereign seemed to fight for control, like it wasn't able to do what it set out to do in the first place. The Protheans must have corrupted the mass relay opening by doing more than interfering with the keepers' processes and priorities.

Whatever it was doing up there, Sovereign was stuck until it managed to find a workaround.

I looked down to Saren's hover device on the ground next to me, then out to the window.

Seeing what I saw, sensing what I sensed—Ashley's barely-controlled voice found me again, "Commander, you can't seriously be thinking about doing this now… Tell me you aren't. Tell me we're just seeing things."

"Sovereign's blocking my access to the master control panel," I told her. "Vigil's override isn't working. It won't work until I can disable Sovereign's power directly. I have to do this."

At this point, there was nothing she or anyone else could say to stop me.

They knew it.

"Joker," I said. "Get Admiral Hackett on the line with us. I need to coordinate my plans with him."

Worried, reluctant: "Aye, aye, Ma'am…"

"Commander?" asked Hackett. "Commander Shepard, are you getting this? Are you currently on the Citadel?"

"Yes, Admiral," I answered. "I'm close to getting the station's arms back open. The ship Sovereign sitting at the top of the Citadel Tower is interfering with that. I need to disable its power before the arms will cooperate."

Bewildered, Hackett reacted, "You mean you can disable that giant thing? How in the hell is that possible? That ship is unlike anything I've ever seen before. It tore some of the turians' best frigates right in half on its way inside the station!"

"We don't have time to explain right now," I insisted, bringing up Sovereign's schematics with my omni-tool. "I'm going to board the ship. There's a weak point that will let me bring down its shields, disabling its mass effect accelerator, at least temporarily. As soon as those arms are open, bring the fleets in. If you hit it all at once, you should be able to destroy it before that accelerator can come back online."

"I see. And if I rush the order, will you be able to escape from Sovereign in time before it's destroyed?"

I found an entry point to board Sovereign, not too far from its weak point: the chamber with enough room for an organic to override the ship's shields from within. Grabbing hold of the overhead handles, I just had to pull them, pulling and staying that way until all power on the ship cut off, including its external shields. After I finished with the override, I could leave from the same point without issues.

Sovereign still had several of those husks aboard, though. Cloaking past them wouldn't be a problem.

I confirmed, "I can escape on my own. Don't worry about me."

Still wary, Hackett accepted my promise. "Understood… I'll communicate with the fleets now. Let's keep this line open to coordinate our attack with the Normandy. And for some peace of mind while we wait for you on standby. If you pull this off, it'll be a miracle. You're our only hope. Godspeed, Commander."

Knowing that Hackett still listened, and that Ashley and the team and everyone else still listened, all I could do was take a breath.

I had no room for anything else.

I grabbed Saren's hoverboard, looking it over, and scanning it with my omni-tool. This would work in zero-gravity locations, like just outside the tower where Sovereign sat up above. All I needed to do was stay close to other objects, and the board itself would create its own gravity field for me to navigate. Getting up to Sovereign's back entrance near the chamber wouldn't be a problem with this device. Getting out, and finding a landing point outside, without any other objects around, while trying to avoid the debris from the ships destruction—that might've been a problem.

I could worry about it later.

Leaving the master control panel, I walked around to the side of the Council Chambers, nearing the tall window that led outside.

As I did, I remembered one last order.

"Ashley," I said.

She pushed back her own apprehensions, responding, "I'm here, Skipper."

"I need you and the team to escort Anderson, Udina, and the Council back to the Normandy. If more of those geth ships show up, I don't want you to have to fight off another assassination attempt. They'll be safer aboard our ship."

"Aye, aye, Commander. We'll get moving. I'll update you once we make it there. Shouldn't take long…"

I noticed, "What is it?"

Ashley asked of me, "Do you mind waiting until we finish with the escort? I know you don't have time to waste, sitting around… Maybe it's selfish. We need that peace of mind, too, like Admiral Hackett said. If we can stay in one place and watch you with Joker back at the helm, that'd help us out a lot."

In reality, I did need more time to collect myself anyway…

"All right, then," I replied. "I'll wait here until you make it to the Normandy. Let me know."

"We're already on our way. Thanks for doing this. Try to take it easy until then."

I appreciated that Ashley held back so much in this moment.

Because if I heard anything more from her, I wasn't sure if I could handle it right now.

It didn't help that Liara still wouldn't say anything to me, either.

Once I made it right beside the window, I stopped.

Setting Saren's hoverboard down on the ground, I knelt here to change my back to my mag boots.

I returned my N7 helmet over my head.

I reinforced my stealth suit for the upcoming zero-gravity, zero-oxygen environment just outside.

And then I sat here, legs crossed, helmeted head lowered: trying to find my balance, my calm. Keeping my eyes open to not disrupt the live feed for everyone, I did my best to empty my mind. I hadn't actually meditated in a long time. I used to do it often enough, years ago. Years ago, to work on my temper, my mood swings. My thoughtless hatred of everyone and everything. My anger at the world, at the galaxy, for the way they'd seemed to abandon me and other people like me back on Earth, not caring to help us at all.

All I had wanted back then were answers. I'd needed to understand why that had to happen to me. What was the point? Whose idea was it for things to end up that way?

If everything had meant to lead me to this point, then I could accept it.

I could move forward with these answers of mine.

Soon enough, Ashley gave me her update, "We made it back aboard the Normandy, Commander. Captain Anderson, Ambassador Udina, the Council, and the rest of the team—we're all here with Joker on the bridge, watching."

"Good," I responded, taking one last moment to stay where I was. "If there's nothing else, I'll get going."

Joker did have something for me, "Hang on, Commander. I'm getting requests from all allied fleets for the Normandy to share your broadcast. They want to see you, too. You won't be able to hear them or anything. It's just one way. Want me to set up the link with them? Or—is it too much pressure? You know, having all those eyes on you like that…"

I had to trust myself to pull this off, no matter who watched me.

"Set up the link, Joker," I allowed.

"Okay…they're in. We're streaming live to all allied forces near the Citadel. Well, you are. Good luck…"

Hackett confirmed, "Commander, we've got your visual and audio. The fleets are with you."

Standing up now, I kept the hoverboard with me, and pulled out my pistol.

Aiming at the window, I shot the glass out from in front of me.

Shards floating out in every directions, directionless: the hazy violet of the outside nebula lit my way in this makeshift daylight. I grabbed hold of the newly-opened leverage with this wall, getting myself out of the window, out to the Citadel Tower's exterior, out to the nebula's embrace. Looking up and around first, I saw that Sovereign's front faced this way, on this side. I had to get around to the opposite side, to keep its frontal lasers from firing at me, shooting me down and obliterating me.

Hovering along with Saren's device, I circled around the narrow, off-white structure of the tower, around to the back side. Staying close enough to this surface, I could graze my gloves here for the added security, on top of my mag boots keeping me centered to this board. Controlling my breathing inside my helmet, head facing up to those claws lodged atop the tower, I floated upward, up this skyscraper of a distance. Up to meet Sovereign, up to the opening along its back, near the top of its so-called head.

I focused there for my sanity, for my life.

If I looked down to the ring of the Presidium so far below, or to the lower Citadel arms, I wasn't sure if I would slip and fall.

I couldn't take that chance.

Besides, to Sovereign, I was meaningless. A rudimentary creature in its view, I existed as nothing in comparison. Nothing to notice, nothing to spot or care for—not even as I neared this back entrance, unseen in both a literal and figurative sense. It didn't care to perceive me, so it couldn't. It didn't care to see me as a threat, so it wouldn't. It didn't care about what I was, and it believed that I would fall to its indoctrination anyway, so it shouldn't have given a damn about what I was about to do.

Trying to defend itself now would make it look weak and cowardly, even with none of its allies around:

Sovereign preserved its pride and ego to the very end, no matter the potential risk to its survival.

Reaching this opening near the very top of Sovereign's form, I grabbed hold of the narrow edges. Pulling myself through, floating in zero-G until the ship's weight found me, I made sure to keep Saren's hoverboard with me, close by. Through to this darkness, this alien design—I found washed-out, solid colors of varying tints of gray and violet everywhere, miserable and hopeless. Higher up along the curved ceilings, those hues and round formations seemed so unknown the longer I looked at them, the walls seeming to close in on me, edged and angled in a menacing slant.

Kneeling here with the ship's stable gravity, I kept my helmet and my mag boots on anyway, just in case.

My schematics glowed through this dark in a much-needed orange glow, lighting my way, for now, until I needed to cloak again. I saw no husks in the nearby area with my radar. I was bound to run into them on the way to the chamber, though, so I needed to be prepared. They were weak on their own, yes, but I worried about a sudden swarm catching up and overwhelming me.

There wasn't a lot of room to run and hide in this place. I had to play it safe.

As I took a crouched step forward, I had to press my hand to the nearest wall, clawing there.

Clawing at my head, a hundred times worse than my tactical cloak implants clawing at my brain from overuse: this unknown weighed down on my mind. Far beyond anything I could imagine, I saw nothing else, perceived nothing else except for the sights around me. Clawing down through my eyesight, a webbing darkness veined at me in despair, nearly blackening all. And these sights in my immediate area caved down more in my twisted perception, closing in on themselves, closing in on me—

This same closing, this same darkness, I remembered with memories not my own, of the many that had tried to do this before, only to fall here, right where I was.

I dug my gloved fingers harder into this wall, the pain reminding me that I was still here.

I was still my own person, still myself.

I was still alive.

Ashley's voice as another godsend, soft in her rasped unraveling: "Shepard…"

Looking at my hand for emphasis, I relaxed my grip along the wall.

"I'm fine, Ash."

"I know you are. I know… You have to be. Griffons never die, after all. Keep at it."

Holding Saren's hoverboard closer to me with my other arm, I cloaked to invisibility.

Hiding more from all of this, from this situation, I followed the path in front of me.

Hoping that I really was still myself, with my own sovereignty still in-tact, I stayed low as I passed through these narrowed halls and vents. Whether Sovereign perceived me in here or not, it couldn't matter anymore. Those humanoid, gray and blue husks were all around in large groups, posing enough of a threat. Emaciated and curled up into fetal positions, they only sat there in the near-distance, groaning and moaning in a haunted loneliness. Even though they were surrounded by other husks, by each other, they all seemed and sounded so alone together.

No matter their despairing, they were mindless enough to switch to attack mode if they heard me.

Mindless…or maybe something else.

Whenever we had fought them before, they'd always thrown themselves at us, like they wanted to die.

Now wasn't the time for me to put them out of their misery if that was the case. Not on my own.

Closer to that chamber, that backdoor, that primary weakness in all capital-class Reaper ships like Sovereign, I did start to wonder why their creators had left these here.

I couldn't let myself linger on the question, knowing that I wouldn't discover these answers anytime soon. Still, this chamber was just here, like Sovereign's creator had wanted someone like me to find it at some point. Someone like me who could resist this indoctrination. Someone like me who was already 'indoctrinated' by another person, and who wanted this ship gone already. And someone like me who could become invisible, undetectable with ease, navigating these paths with my own willpower, my own convictions. This didn't feel like enough of a coincidence to be pre-ordained, but it definitely felt suspicious, if not too good to be true. Or maybe that was just my old cynicism playing tricks on me again.

Whatever the case, I still felt Sovereign's efforts against my mind, even now.

They only brushed off of me, reflecting right back, nullified by my immunity.

Aware, but powerless—Sovereign tried to compensate, tried to strengthen its indoctrination signal.

The ship itself rumbled beneath my boots, beneath my hand brushing along these walls, and beneath my knees bent here near the ground.

Some form of light in illusions: I saw the shadowy figures of the ones who tried before, again reaching this same spot, and again, falling one by one to this same strengthened signal in their heads. Falling, failing, they instead gave in to this mental temptation made manifest, forsaking the one that had once strengthened them; giving into that incomprehensible force and pain. Turning into other shadowed forms I couldn't recognize, those Protheans lost themselves here, lost their sanity and their identities, becoming the mindless slaves that Sovereign wanted them to be, if only to protect itself.

Not wanting to end up the same way, I made this last push once it was safe, hurrying ahead.

As I moved, I realized, too:

I didn't feel that additional, lingering pain from pushing my tactical cloak for too long.

I hadn't had to uncloak this whole time, not once. Not to relieve that pain. Not to refresh anything.

I wasn't sure if the pain was still there, and I couldn't register it in the face of this higher resistance, or if it was because of something else.

That something else guided me along as I reached this chamber closing in on me, claustrophobic.

About the same space as a pod with standing room only: I could move around just enough, but anything more than that was impossible. Rounded edges of design, almost like geth technology, though not quite: this was a little more familiar than the rest of Sovereign's interior that had looked so foreign to me.

Above my head, spaced out about shoulder-length, I found those handles to grab onto. Linked to Sovereign's entire network, this was connected to all of its systems and programming, including the mass effect accelerator that powered its shields. Wired and waiting, the current there from my interaction would overload that network, those systems and the programming, by the will of Sovereign's creator. Whoever or whatever that was.

Setting Saren's hoverboard along the curved wall at my feet, I reached up to the handles.

Grabbing on, I didn't feel anything different yet. Nothing unusual.

Not until I pulled and pulled, almost shocked by this electric-like current running through me.

Not quite electrified, not at all harmed, physically—pulling these handles triggered an initial flash of dark in my surroundings. Pulling at these weights with the weight of this mission on my shoulders, I dealt with the pain, silent and refusing to make a sound. Only from my harsh blinking could everyone on the other end realize that this wiring gripped me as much as I gripped it back. Only from my team's quieted, restless reactions could I tell that they felt me, somehow, even in this distance, even only in empathy, worrying for me.

They stayed quiet to let me do this. They stayed quiet to let me concentrate.

Concentrating, and forcing more of those flashes in my immediate area, across the entire ship, malfunctioning:

Far louder than before, Sovereign blared in defiance through my head, through these walls, over and over again. But those disabling gasps couldn't stop me, no matter what. They reached my team, and Anderson and Udina, and the Council, who let out startled sounds in response. Proving to them that they had nothing to worry about, I pulled harder, one last time, finishing this with my full concentration, my full focus.

And then: engulfed in total darkness.

Absolute silence.

Peace.

And then the immediate, spirited reactions from my team, from everyone else, beyond incredulous.

Admiral Hackett's proud orders to the fleets reached me: "She's done it… The Citadel's opening! All ships move in! Concentrate on Sovereign, but hold your fire! I repeat—hold fire! We need to give the commander time to escape! Not a single shot from any of you until she's safe!"

Joker shouted out, "Get out of there, Shepard! You've gotta get moving! I know it's pitch black and all but you need to find a way out, like now! Call me paranoid—you're still risking your life in there. We can't lose you now. Definitely not after what you just pulled off!"

"I know," I managed to say, letting go of the handles. "Let me check…" Sovereign's schematics glowing orange, lighting my way anew—even more so—I checked my radar. "All those husks are disabled, too. The indoctrination signal's down. Without that, the husks are pretty much dead. I'll make a run for it."

"Roger! I'll look for you near the tower. If you need me to catch you with the Normandy, I'll do it!"

"Copy that, Joker."

Everyone else, Ashley and Liara especially—I sensed their astonishment stronger than the rest, keeping them silent. Keeping them anxious, too nervous to say a word to me. Almost as if, should they have spoken, this entire picture would break somehow, and I would break along with it.

Not broken in the slightest, I retrieved Saren's hoverboard.

Clutching onto this thing for my life, I didn't bother cloaking—I followed the path back, running.

Running for the right reasons this time.

Running past those husks, disabled and fallen out over the ground.

Running toward something, finally, instead of always running away out of fear, out of pure habit.

Changing my views; re-shaping my own limitations, my barriers.

This change in direction helped me see myself in a different light.

Lighting my way more than my omni-tool ever could, I needed this change in momentum.

Hopefully everlasting, this light felt so much better; made far more sense to me than my old ways.

But even with my hopes, I couldn't help feeling that this wasn't permanent, although I needed it to be.

Reaching the light of Sovereign's exit, I pushed those worries aside, pushing myself out to the sights: scores of the Citadel's fleets, the Council races' fleets, and the Alliance fleets all surrounded me, surrounding Sovereign, everywhere, leaving no escape.

Before they all started firing, I boarded Saren's device again.

Floating downward, upside-down, narrowed with the path of the Citadel Tower, I made it as far away as I could. Somewhere in the distance between those turian frigates, asari cruisers, and human dreadnoughts, I spotted the Normandy zipping across in my direction, with Joker intent on catching me directly. Nearly reaching the ring of the Presidium at the base of the tower, I was well out of reach by now.

Hackett had his confirmation that I was safe. "All ships, open fire! Take that monster down! Hit it with everything we've got!"

Relentless gunfire from the fleets below me from my perspective: they fired at the Reaper in a joined synergy, entirely focused as one.

Focused entirely on me, Joker caught up with Normandy, intercepting me at my position.

That strip of white atop the ship's hull, I focused on, centered between the black and white letterings.

Exploding without sound in this vacuumed nebula, Sovereign shattered to pieces. Claws dislodged from the Citadel Tower, that towering form leaned over before splitting into dozens and dozens of pieces. Fire and brimstone with its limbs smoking and enflamed, that nation of independence and superiority was no more, errant shards of dark blue-violet scattering to the negative winds.

As Sovereign disintegrated to those winds, Joker caught my windfall.

Slowing, angling, I landed atop the ship, safely away from those pieces sent flying.

Standing tall, I stared up at the star-like view of Sovereign's destruction, my ears warmed from the loudness of my radio, from everyone's shock, their praise, their astonishment, so ecstatic.

I smiled up at those flaming stars, brimming with relief: mission accomplished.

---

Safely back on the Citadel, in a closed-off area of the Council Chambers, the councilors invited me to attend a private meeting with them. Ambassador Udina and Captain Anderson standing at either side of me, we had all arrived here together a few moments ago. After the team had shared their congratulations with me, and the fleets had spread word of my victory, the entire galaxy felt like it was on a sudden high. Joined together in this spirit of celebration, for once it seemed as if everyone had set their inter-galactic issues aside, basking in this new light.

They all believed that this was the beginning and the end of the Reaper threat.

I knew better. My team knew better. Udina, Anderson, and the Council all knew better.

Whether or not the rest of the galaxy would find out the truth before or after the impending invasion, I accepted that this was out of my control.

The Council had brought me here with the captain and the ambassador to explain their decision on how to handle this fallout.

Captain Anderson clapped my shoulder, forever proud of me.

Even Ambassador Udina offered me a sincere enough smile, setting aside his negativity for the moment.

The asari councilor addressed us first: "Ambassador. Captain. Commander Shepard. We have gathered here to recognize the enormous contributions of the Alliance forces in the war against Sovereign and the geth. The commander's gallantry in saving the Citadel as a lone infiltrator now stands among the most esteemed acts of our galactic history. We would not be here were it not for her courageous efforts."

The salarian councilor said, "Many humans lost their lives in the battle to save the Citadel—brave and courageous soldiers who willingly gave their lives so that we—the Council—might live. The Normandy's team, led by Gunnery Chief Williams in the commander's absence, also risked their lives to save ours. Once again, none of us among the Council would be here today had they not succeeded."

"There is no greater sacrifice," supplied the turian councilor, "And we share your grief over the tragic loss of so many noble men and women. Seeing the staggering destruction on the Citadel through your eyes was yet another wake-up call for us, Commander. Sovereign and the geth caused the deaths of millions of lives here upon the station. It will take years for us to rebuild, but we will never be able to make up for those lost souls. That visitors continue to travel to Citadel as we speak: this is a testament to your legend, and their trust in you to protect them here in our heart of galactic civilization."

The asari councilor expressed, "The Council owes you a great deal of personal debt, Commander. One we can never repay. By defeating Sovereign, you have saved billions of lives. You have the courage of your convictions and a ruthless determination to succeed. Through your actions, you have become a symbol of everything humanity represents."

The turian councilor praised, "Your species has an indomitable will—a fierce, savage spirit that will not bend or yield. We used to believe this made humans stubborn, even dangerous. Yet you have proven that your unyielding will is capable of changing the course of history itself. You achieved the impossible by weakening Sovereign in order for the Citadel's allied fleets to destroy the ship once and for all. We will need you as our strongest hero in this coming war, Commander Shepard—now more than ever."

The salarian councilor continued, "At last we understand that humanity's traits are what make you strong. They have forged you as the hero of the Battle of the Citadel. Your feats as an N7 Infiltrator will stand as legend to all who would follow in your footsteps as a soldier. Going forward, there are dark times ahead; the Council needs humanity and its strength."

"As the Alliance ambassador," stated Udina, "I accept your offer. Humanity will join its strength to yours. We will take our seat on the Council."

The asari councilor pointed out, "Commander, given all that has happened, I am sure your recommendation will carry a great deal of weight. Do you support any particular candidate?"

There was only one choice: "We need someone with the courage to stand up for what he believes in. Someone like Captain Anderson." Predictably, Udina grumbled over my choice, yet he chose not to fight against me. "As for the captain's history as a soldier, that's exactly what we need right now. We already have too many politicians on the Citadel. Anderson would be perfect for this job."

"The shadow of war darkens our future," agreed the asari councilor. "Selecting someone with military experience is a wise choice. Captain Anderson, we welcome your place here with us on the Council."

"I'm honored, councilor," accepted Anderson. "As humanity's representative, I'll do everything in my power to help guide the Council." He nodded to me, and joined the councilors at their side. "If I may."

"Certainly," allowed the salarian councilor. "Do you have it ready?"

"Yes, I do. Commander Shepard, won't you step forward?"

Caught off-guard by Anderson's formality, I did as he asked.

Standing with his hands behind his back, he smiled at me.

"I know you hate all things pomp and circumstance," he began. "So I didn't go through the trouble of making a big scene out of this. Whether you choose to tell anyone or not, the Alliance will find out soon enough. I think that's best—for now, at least."

I admitted, "I don't understand, Sir. What do you mean?"

"Commander, you're here with us today because of how exceptional you are. A harsh childhood, working your way up to your successes through the years—you are the very spirit of what it means to serve with principle and integrity, both despite and because of your unique history. Despite the odds, you've achieved this total victory here on the Citadel, going above and beyond the call of duty. As a Spectre, as a soldier, and as an infiltrator, you deserve no less than the highest honor of the Systems Alliance Navy."

Revealing what he'd had behind his back since before the meeting started, Anderson showed me:

That sky blue ribbon.

That five-pointed bronze star.

That engraving of Minerva in the center of the star—the goddess of war—representing the United North American States back on Earth.

A Medal of Honor, for me.

Anderson draped the short ribbon around my neck. The star settled right at the center of my chest warm with this meaning—more so because I wore my N7 stealth suit instead of my expected dress uniform, like the one Anderson had on. He soon finished tying the ribbon, and placed his hands along the sides of my shoulders, supportive; his eyes teeming in pride, for me.

"Congratulations, Commander," he said, smiling wider. "You've done more than enough to earn this."

The salarian councilor, the turian councilor, and the asari councilor all nodded to me as well, approving.

Somewhere behind me, I sensed that Udina at least appreciated the gesture.

"Thank you, Councilor Anderson…"

Anderson appreciated my own gesture in return. The new title suited him.

The turian councilor then reached the heart of this meeting—"The battle with Sovereign destroyed our illusions of peace and security. Spirits are running high for now, yet we cannot simply hope that things will remain this way forever. The galaxy will look to us—the Council—to defend them. And they will look to you, Commander, to repeat what you have achieved here on the Citadel today. We are positive that you will be up to the task."

The asari councilor pledged, "We will take stock of all the evidence and research you have provided us with. We will also work with the Alliance, the Salarian Special Tasks Group, and the turian and asari governments to ensure that their best scientists are able to analyze the wreckage left behind in the battle against Sovereign. And when the time comes, whenever that may be, you will have our utmost support for the fight against the Reapers."

"But until then," warned the salarian councilor, "We must not alarm the public with this information. Should the galaxy's citizens be led to believe the war is imminent, they will panic. They will feel unsafe in their own homes, their own communities. It is imperative that we not frighten them with talks of the Reaper threat. It is best for the people to remain calm and oblivious for the time being. Officially, Commander Shepard and her team will be on a reconnaissance mission after this, surveying for any remaining geth forces after the battle. Nothing more."

Even though I agreed in theory, I didn't like the idea of straight-up lying to everyone to protect their sensibilities.

Seeing the same, Udina fought back, "How can you decide such a thing? The people deserve answers! Our casualties are in the millions! I am already dealing with thousands of calls and messages to my office from citizens concerned about Sovereign's attack. They rightly wish to know if and when this will happen again!"

"And you will not tell them the truth," insisted the turian councilor. "We must reassure the public that all is well. We cannot afford to have the citizens up-in-arms over this. It won't bode well for the future. When the war arrives, we will change our messaging at that time. Not before."

"Ambassador Udina," said the asari councilor, "I implore you to prioritize the public's safety and peace of mind. Will you commit to remaining on-message with the Council through these uncertain times?"

"Fine," grumbled Udina. "You have my word. There is no problem, no risk of a returning threat, and no upcoming war. Have it your way, councilors…"

Anderson narrowed his eyes in suspicion, not believing the ambassador at all.

But Udina's promise—however flimsy—would have to do for now.

Anderson concluded the meeting with a promise of his own, stronger: "And when that time arrives, humanity will step up to do its part. Sovereign was only a vanguard for the rest of the Reapers. Their fleet is still coming. This will be a war for the very survival of all life as we know it. We will not back down. We will not surrender. We will lead you into battle against the Reapers, and we will destroy every last one of their forces! With the commander as the tip of our spear, we have a chance to win this. We'll be ready."

---

After the battle with Sovereign and saving the Council, my crew had done more than enough to earn some time off. We still had our so-called official mission to continue on with from the Council—surveying any and all areas for remaining geth forces—but we all knew what the deal was about that. There was no real rush for us to get back to work. Especially since we had no idea when the Reapers would arrive. The Council had the galaxy's best scientists analyzing everything we'd found, of course, so we also needed to wait on them to possibly give us more information on what we were up against.

So we had time.

I ordered everyone to take a month off. The team, the rest of the crew on the Normandy—everyone. They all agreed to the time away from work, for now. Every single one of them promised to return once this vacation was over.

Ashley went back to Amaterasu to see her family at home: her mother and three sisters.

Tali returned to the Flotilla to complete her Pilgrimage, and to visit her father.

Garrus headed back to Palaven to see his father and his sister.

Wrex went to Tuchanka to see his clan and the rest of his comrades.

Liara returned home to Thessia, without me, even though I'd asked to join her for at least a few days.

She had declined, saying that it was best for us to spend the time apart instead, despite mentioning back on Ilos that we needed to talk. She didn't really explain why. I wasn't sure what this was all about. I decided against pushing the issue, and simply let her be over this break.

Since the Citadel was under heavy repair, Joker brought the ship to Arcturus Station, the main headquarters of the Alliance Navy. He had agreed to go home to visit his father and younger sister on Tiptree—but not until after we were done on the station. The whole way here, Joker had thought it was strange that I'd asked him to drop me off at Arcturus Station instead of Earth, asking me if this was about the Alliance. Since he wouldn't shut up about it, I'd explained that I did have business here, and that it wasn't necessarily about me.

He'd figured it out soon after.

And once he did, Joker had insisted on staying, too. He would go home afterward, as would I. When the month was over, we agreed to meet back here, and then go around with the Normandy to pick the others up. Until then, we would remain in our complimentary rooms here for the next two weeks or so.

Initially, Ashley had no idea that I was on Arcturus Station at all.

She assumed that I'd gone back to my apartment on Earth, which made sense.

And since we couldn't call each other through our usual frequency, I had found a workaround for us. Whenever she wasn't spending time with her family, Ashley would spend this time with me. I would broadcast a private stream for her while she watched me play video games—usually my N7 simulator—and we would speak through the voice chat there. While Ashley watched me play during these couple of weeks, we talked about everything and nothing, nothing and everything, enjoying every word, every moment we shared. But we never once brought up the main thing that was on our minds.

Directly after the battle on the Citadel, once I'd made it back to the ship, Ashley had of course been happy to see me, giving me a hug and everything in front of the others. Even now, I sensed her lingering pride over what I'd managed to pull off, adoring me and revering me so much more. Yet this air of sentiments unspoken lingered between us anyway. She needed some time to process everything. From Ilos until now, these events had been such a huge shock for us both, for us all. I couldn't blame her for not quite knowing what to say right now.

I wasn't the type to hold my tongue about something important like this.

Neither was she.

Still, we had swept it under the rug, not wanting to face the endless questions and confusions there.

We carried on, acting like nothing was wrong.

Although I did have a couple of things I kept up my sleeve for her.

I wasn't sure how Ashley would react once she found out—if she would insist that it wasn't fair, or that she somehow hadn't earned any of this. I had already arranged for all of it to go ahead, despite her inevitable protesting. So there was nothing she could do to stop this.

This was what she deserved, what she'd done more than enough to earn, and what she should've had all along:

Once the evening arrived, I saw for myself how Ashley had decided to play this. I knew that she was here on Arcturus Station with her family. And she obviously knew what this was about by now. Yet she hadn't said a word about it—not directly—clearly having figured out that this was all my doing.

Standing in front of this mirror in my complimentary officer's quarters, I looked myself over.

As a Spectre, I was allowed to wear the Alliance dress uniform for senior officers: blue, black, and gold. Chained, folded top with my history of insignias, ribbons, medals and pins, and this pair of longer trousers. The gold piping over my shoulders designated my rank as Lieutenant-Commander, and another set showed my superseding rank as a Spectre. These dress boots shined in the dull light of the station's false moon lighting my window. Everything ironed and polished in the same formality, creased to perfection—I had spent the time to do this by hand, thinking of Ashley the whole while. I kept my hair up in this strict tail down my back, centered and shining with the same attention to detail, if not more.

Soon enough, I'd get to see Ashley in this similar uniform, but for junior officers instead.

Finally, as what she had earned, as a commissioned officer during her promotion ceremony tonight.

The Alliance had wasted enough of Ashley's time, forcing her to stay stuck as a non-commissioned officer. Every military academy she'd applied to had rejected her only because of her last name. Only because her grandfather was General Williams. Not because she wasn't qualified or skilled enough. So she had earned her undergraduate degree instead, satisfying that pre-requisite. And I'd discovered that the Alliance had also blackballed her from formally entering any officer training programs. About a year ago, Ashley's commanding officer back on Eden Prime had done what he could to train her as if she were in one of the programs anyway—even informally—having seen more than enough of her potential.

With all of those barriers in her way, I had argued Ashley's case to Alliance Command on the basis of excessive discrimination.

If Ashley could have had the same opportunities as everyone else, regardless of who her grandfather was, then she would've completed the rest of the usual pre-requisites to become a commissioned officer, the usual way. Nearly everyone before me had denied her those same chances. It simply wasn't fair to expect Ashley to pretty much start all over with her career by attending a military academy, and then going through official channels this time for the officer training programs. That would've taken years.

She had already put in the work—hell, she had saved the Council from assassination during the battle.

She had already proven herself, ten times over.

She was entitled to this now.

After listening to my arguments, re-reading the non-biased reports from Ashley's stellar performance over the years, and then reading the reports that I had written about her skills and talents, Alliance Command had actually taken my side. Whether it was because they genuinely believed me, or they cared more about my political power after the Battle of the Citadel, that couldn't matter to me. They'd agreed that it was time to make up for how the military had treated Ashley before. They'd promised that they would fast-track her promotion and pay raise—more than doubling her salary—holding the ceremony here on Arcturus Station, and inviting her family to attend as well.

That wasn't all, though.

Thinking the rest over, I went to sit down over the couch in front of the large enough TV.

Taking a breath, I saw that my hands wouldn't stop shaking. I gripped them together, before burying my face in my palms, breathing harder this time. But none of it went away.

This wasn't my promotion. This night wasn't about me at all. Yet I still dealt with this fluttering feeling in my stomach, barely able to believe that this was about to happen. I had fought so hard in arguing Ashley's case to Alliance Command. During most of the flight here on the Normandy in the comm room, and then in-person on Arcturus Station whenever Ashley was out with her family, I had been in non-stop meetings with the military's top brass, fighting for this, fighting for her, because she deserved it. She was worth it.

Regardless of whether Ashley was my girlfriend or not, I still would have done this for her.

By this point, if I had still relieved Kaidan from duty, then I would have named Ashley as my second-in-command anyway. Even if I'd continued to keep my distance from her. Even if we'd never reconciled after my stupid misunderstandings with her from way back when. Even if I'd convinced myself to hate her, only seeing the worst in her on a personal level, I wouldn't have been able to deny her skill as a soldier; I wouldn't have been able to ignore her undying loyalty toward me as her commanding officer.

By this point, if everything else had gone the exact same way, then Ashley still would have led the charge to save Anderson, Udina, and the Council on the Destiny Ascension. That was her main victory. No one could deny it or take that away from her.

Ashley wasn't defined by her relationship with me. Not as a person, and not as a soldier.

The Alliance knew that, what with the rumors about us having gotten around by now. They knew, and they hadn't allowed my relationship with her to get in the way of their decision. They knew, and they chose not to mention me violating the regulations, either, given all that I had accomplished.

As relatively simple as that process had been with them, the rest remained so complicated.

So many complications over my accomplishments, so many unknowns before me:

Checking my omni-tool, I re-read the latest and only email that Liara had sent me, from yesterday:

From: Liara – Time away.

Shepard,

I apologize for my silence these days. I have not been myself in quite a while. Along with the shock of recent revelations, and witnessing what you achieved on the Citadel, I am not certain what to make of things. This has been a lot to process.

Perhaps the time away is a good thing. Irrational though it may be, I am still upset over your decision to run off to the Conduit alone. I am sure you understand why. I believe this has compounded with the rest going on. It is difficult to put into words what I think, how I feel. Although I'm very proud of you for your heroics in defeating Sovereign, and for saving the Citadel. I am sorry for not telling you this sooner.

What little I did manage to say to you on Ilos still stands.

We ought to have a conversation at some point. It does not need to be anything particularly involved. And I already know what I wish to say. It won't be necessary for us to speak right away, once we return to the ship. I will still need some time to get settled in, to adjust. So, whenever you are ready, please invite me to your cabin. Maybe it would be nice for us to talk over a glass of our wine. Just like old times.

These weeks and months have felt more like years to me. I'd rather not get into the reasons why.

If at all possible, I would prefer that you not reply to this. It will be enough for me to see that you have 'read' my message. My reasons for this also tie into what I would like to tell you during our discussion. Please don't worry over it.

I hope you enjoy the rest of your time off. I will see you once we return.

-Liara

Tender as ever, I missed her.

Just as well, I read over the email that Tali had recently sent me, thinking of her, too:

From: Tali'Zorah – Taking a break.

Shepard,

It's bittersweet to be away from the ship like this. Away from the team. I do miss you a lot. But it's good to have some time off before getting back to things. I'm not sure how I feel about the Council sending us on a silly recon mission against the geth. I suppose this is better than allowing the galaxy to panic over the Reapers. Maybe. I don't enjoy having to keep up these sorts of lies… Even if it is for the greater good.

Everyone in the Migrant Fleet watched the vids of what you accomplished against Sovereign. All seventeen million of us. They're very impressed with you. I'm getting a lot of recognition for serving on your team, and for helping to save the Council. Even my father was moved by what you did.

I'm not sure how much you know about my people. Probably quite a lot. I remember when I first joined the team, you knew to offer your left hand to me as a quarian. We don't like to use our right hands—our working hands as engineers—for those sorts of things. Most outsiders don't take the time to learn our customs, let alone practice them with us. You are an exception. I never did tell you how much that means to me… Sorry, I'm getting sidetracked. Anyway, my father is a member of the Admiralty Board. He's essentially responsible for the lives of everyone on the Flotilla. And he was always extremely strict. Especially with me. That's beginning to change now. When I got back home, Father actually saluted me. I started crying, and he didn't get angry. He understood. We have a long way to go to make up for the past. For the ways I resented him—and still do. But we're making progress. I have you to thank for that.

There's another reason why this time off is bittersweet. It's almost the anniversary for when my mother passed away. I was very young when she died, so I don't really remember her. I only have vague memories of her kindness. Kindness that could reach through my father's grumpy exterior. This is something else he and I have been able to talk about. When I complete my Pilgrimage with the gift you gave me, I'll request for my new enviro-suit to have a lot of violet colors. The same as my mother's suit.

I'm finding ways to appreciate what I have.

I appreciate you as well, Shepard. Thank you for being everyone's hero. And for being my hero, too.

-Tali

I had made a point to reply to Tali's email. To let her know that I had done my research on her people. To tell her I was glad about her father, even though this anniversary should have been a sad one. And to thank her for being on my team; for always showing me that kindness she'd no doubt inherited from her mother. I told her that I was looking forward to seeing her new enviro-suit, too.

That detail about her mother, that violet—I wondered if Tali had imagined it when I gave her that gift.

All as another reason for how emotional she'd gotten that day, in that moment.

And maybe my gesture had locked and sealed in place Tali's feelings for me.

Thinking about it this way, I felt my own appreciation for her grow. More than that, too. More than I could say or admit at a time like this. But I at least enjoyed having this feeling: my honor to protect her.

I missed Tali and Liara both, even with my emotions running haywire over Ashley, over this entire evening. I tried to set this aside for now. I would deal with it later. Tonight was Ashley's night. I didn't want to take away from that in any way, even though I knew how I'd end up acting during the ceremony: pretending to be stoic, and actively avoiding everyone, her included. There was a big reason for that.

Ashley's family would be here. They were already here with her, in fact—her mother, and her three younger sisters, Abby, Lynn, and Sarah.

Just from having walked around Arcturus Station in between meetings with the top brass, I knew that the whole military had found out about our relationship. So far, everyone I came across was entirely respectful toward me, with plenty of them even smiling and making light, positive comments about Ashley and me, or how me dating a Williams had changed their mind about the family's history. No one seemed to judge us. Or if they did, those particular people were smart enough to stay quiet about it.

Her family had to know by now.

Aside from Ashley sounding grumpy on most days when I'd start my streams for her, she never gave the impression that her mother or her sisters had a problem with this.

Since I still had some time, I decided to watch an archive of one of my streams from last week.

Skimming through to a point where her mood had improved, I smiled over the memory.

I had played my N7 game for her again that night. This was right after Ashley had just gotten back to her room after a presumably awkward dinner with her family. So by the time I'd loaded into my match, I hadn't expected her to say anything else over voice chat. But during the brief breather before the Cerberus enemies had showed up, and once my teammates appeared on the field nearby, she had surprised me.

Ashley had actually giggled, asking, "Aww, who's the little guy following you around? Is that a volus?"

I had swung my camera around with my sniper rifle as my center, aiming my gun down at my teammate: the short, round volus in their all-white breather suit and a huge assault rifle in their hands. As I'd looked at them, the volus had started roll-dodging, rolling around back and forth, making Ashley laugh more. I also recognized their profile name atop their character's head. Infiltrait0rN7. This person had been on my team with me when I'd first played this game for Ashley, and even several times before and after that.

During the match, this teammate of mine did keep following me, as Ashley had pointed out.

On several occasions, I would hear a clicking sound before my shields restored on my own, thanks to the volus actively supporting me. I hadn't necessarily needed it, though this was still a kind gesture.

"That's so sweet," noticed Ashley. "He really cares about you, Skipper. Haven't we seen his name around a lot? N7 Infiltrator or whatever? I'm pretty sure we have. He always scores second right behind you."

"Yeah, you're right…"

So she had suggested, "Why not add him to your friends list after the match? He's a pretty good player!"

Not seeing the harm, I had gone ahead and added the person as a friend on my list once the match was over.

We had then played another match together, with both of us picking krogan characters that time. Cheering Ashley up some more, my new friend and I had showed her the proper etiquette when playing with another krogan in this game: making sure to headbutt each other in between enemy waves, just to be silly, and for the camaraderie. After that, our other two random teammates had gone into the next match with us, also as krogan, following our lead. We'd made Ashley crack up the whole time as the four of us demolished the map, headbutting and melee attacking everything that moved.

Eventually, later on in the stream, Ashley had gone quiet. I'd heard the alert to her omni-tool. I had been able to tell that she was in the middle of reading something, reading an email. Knowing that, and knowing what this was all about, my nerves had picked up. I had been in some weird mix of wanting to smile and forcing myself not to say anything.

After some time, I'd prompted her, "Something wrong, babe?"

Incredulous, Ashley had murmured, "I just got an email from the N7 program. Someone recommended my name… An 'anonymous' commendation. They think I have what it takes for this. An N7 Soldier."

"I'm not surprised," I had said, trying to play it off. "You could handle the training. An N7 Soldier would suit you perfectly. Whatever specialization you choose, I'm sure you'd do well. You're up for it."

"That means a lot to me, coming from you… Thanks, Skipper."

"What do you think you'll do? Will you accept the offer?"

"I will at some point," she had confirmed, "Just not right now. Depending on my specialization, the training would take at least a year…wouldn't it?"

"Usually, yes," I had replied. "Never more than a year and a half or so."

Ashley had sighed in disappointment. "That'd get in the way of the mission. Maybe I should think it over first. A year, year and a half is a long time."

"Think it over, then. I don't want you to rule it out. Let's play it by ear for now and see what happens."

The way she'd returned to her silence, I could tell:

Ashley knew that I was the 'anonymous' person who had given her the N7 commendation.

Watching the rest of this did cheer me up a bit, thinking back to how badly Ashley had wanted to ask if it was me, and to thank me for the opportunity, for believing in her. I had sent her some flowers, too, though again, as an anonymous thing. She couldn't have known at the time that this was only the beginning.

And I needed the slight cheer, and the reminder, since it was time to get going now.

Oddly punctual, Joker knocked on my door, saying, "Hey, Commander! You ready to party or what?"

I went to meet him outside, already hearing a bunch of other people on their way to the ceremony.

When I opened the door, Joker was there in the hall, grinning at me in his blue and gold dress uniform for junior officers. I almost couldn't believe how put-together he was—and that he'd actually left his SR-1 cap back in his room, showing his full head of short, dark brown hair. He hadn't shaved that beard of his. Not that he needed to.

"Looking good, Shepard!" praised Joker, right as I locked my door behind me. "Not too surprised, though. You pretty much always clean up, even in your stealth suit. Nice to see you in something more formal for a change, Ma'am."

"You, too, Joker," I replied, leaving down the hall with him. "Just don't tell me you spoiled the surprise."

"What?! Come on, why would you think that? Until the Alliance sent Ash the message, I didn't say a word to her about it! She's the one who brought it up, not me. I can keep a secret, okay?"

"I'm only making sure."

"Uh-huh," said Joker, raising a brow at me. "Besides, I did see her a few hours ago. Bumped into her when she first got here. She tried to ask me where you were, and I didn't tell her a thing! Cut me some slack here." Then he remembered: "Oh, yeah, by the way… Ashley's Mom and two of her sisters didn't look too happy when they were with her. It was weird."

Dreading the worst, I asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, let's just say I found out a while ago why Ash was in the closet… I'm pretty sure it's related to this. Like, damn, you saved the Citadel and everything, and her family still can't leave it alone!"

"I understand. Thanks for letting me know."

Joker knew that I didn't want to talk about it.

He respected my silence, letting us stay quiet as we reached the ballroom-like space for the ceremony.

Already filled with dozens of people in their dress uniforms, this bright area was typically reserved for only the most formal of gatherings. Stately and upscale enough, the flooring wasn't quite marble, and the walls weren't quite of the same expected material, not going overboard. The few balconies spread out along the far side led out to the view of the stars beyond the space station. Over the tables gathered on the opposite end, I saw plenty of kiosks for ordering glasses of champagne and a few light meals.

Whoever was already on Arcturus Station had been invited to join, no matter their rank. Top members from Alliance Command were here, along with Councilor Anderson. Even Ambassador Udina had decided to attend, surprisingly enough. Admiral Hackett—who had been promoted to the head of Alliance after the battle—was here as well, talking with Anderson and Udina not too far away.

Since this was about humanity saving the Council and earning our seat with them, and the Alliance formally exonerating General Williams, on top of Ashley's promotion, it only made sense for her ceremony to be here. To a lesser extent, I supposed now was the time for the Alliance to claim that humanity had saved the Citadel, too, after what I had done. So everything had come together for this in a joined celebration.

Plenty of people wanted to talk to me, but I did my best to avoid eye contact with them.

Everyone in the Alliance knew that I wasn't much of a conversationalist. They were content to leave me alone, anyway, smiling at me from a distance, or offering warm words to Joker and me in passing.

I wished Kaidan could've been here for this. But he was still in the hospital in Vancouver, undergoing his treatment. He had at least heard about everything from Ashley by now, since he had emailed me, figuring out that I was the one who'd fought for this on her behalf. He already had some vid-mail recorded to send to her after the ceremony, in order to congratulate her.

For now, though, I stayed with Joker somewhere near a corner with my arms folded, mostly removed from everyone else. We had a good view of the open space where Anderson and the other event organizers stood together, about to start the ceremony. We also saw Ashley with her mother and sisters, talking with a bunch of higher-ups near the front of the crowd. Maybe only for the time being, her family seemed normal enough, smiling as they spoke with everyone near them: accepting the Alliance's praise for Ashley's achievements, and their apologies for the General Williams situation.

Finally getting to see her again after these two weeks, I fought not to stare at Ashley over there. She looked beyond beautiful in her new dress uniform, the piping over her shoulders already designating her as her new rank of Second Lieutenant. There was something about this Alliance shade of blue that brought out the kindness in her bright eyes as she talked with the officers there. That old cynicism of hers had diminished and dissolved, at least for this momentous night, as she deserved.

Joker ribbed me, asking, "Hey, aren't we gonna go over there? You know, to be with her for this? Her family can deal, can't they?"

I clamped my crossed arms tighter around myself, looking away.

"Aww, Shepard… Don't tell me you're shy!"

"That's enough, Joker," I ordered.

Joker laughed a bit, doing his best to quiet down once the ceremony started.

As expected, Councilor Anderson led everything, giving a speech about recent events first. Humanity had finally earned our seat on the Council, and Anderson was proud to be the first to hold the title. When he mentioned Saren, Sovereign, the geth, and the Citadel, Anderson of course brought up my name, what I had pulled off on my own. As soon as he did, Ashley glanced around, trying to find me. Not wanting to be rude, she didn't spend too long looking, instead returning her attention to the front.

Anderson then brought Admiral Hackett to join him. As our new leader of the Alliance, Hackett was the one to formally exonerate General Williams over his treatment after the First Contact War, apologizing directly to Ashley and to her family just nearby. He also brought up Ashley's father, Serviceman Williams, condemning the discrimination he suffered before his passing just a few years ago.

Likeness between them noticeable, Ashley's mother wouldn't let herself get emotional in front of everyone. I could still tell that the gesture meant everything to her.

And Ashley purposely wouldn't look at her, though she wore a proud smile, glad to have this moment.

As varied mirrors of their oldest sister, Abby, Lynn, and Sarah all seemed relieved in their own, quiet ways, taking everything in.

Anderson and Hackett invited Ashley over to their side, formally acknowledging her promotion to Second Lieutenant—and, again, apologizing for the Alliance having bottlenecked her progress over the years, despite her exemplary test scores and capabilities.

Almost concluding the ceremony, Admiral Hackett stated, "And finally, Lieutenant Williams, I'd like to announce that you've received one final award. As a thank you from the Council for your heroic efforts in saving them, they've agreed that you've earned the Gold Star Commendation for your work."

"Absolutely, Lieutenant," agreed Anderson, smiling at her. "Your leadership aboard the Destiny Ascension saved the galaxy from a lot of grief and unknowns. You and the rest of the Normandy's team have given everyone some peace of mind, knowing that our leaders are still with us during these changing times. Commander Shepard made the best choice in assigning you as her second-in-command. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for us."

Unable to find the right words to say, Ashley only returned his smile.

Hackett held the pin for Ashley's gold star in his hands, saying, "It would make the most sense for your commanding officer to do this…" He looked around. "Commander? Commander Shepard? Wherever you are, come up and join us. I know you're here."

Sniggering, Joker ribbed me again, harder this time.

The people nearby noticed, chuckling at me. As they did, everyone else spotted where I was, pointing me out in the crowd and murmuring in interest.

Untangling this death grip of my arms, I sighed and went over to Ashley in front of everyone.

I still couldn't look at her.

Not directly.

Though the closer I neared, the more I noticed the everlasting beam of Ashley's smile anyway, so much brighter now that I had stopped hiding from her. Even with her family giving me such varied looks—and with Sarah actually looking happy to see me—Ashley couldn't care about that right now. All she wanted was to be here with me, and for the memory of this occasion to live on forever. And after what she and I had both accomplished, she was sure to have her wish come true. History would remember this, and us, forever.

Admiral Hackett nodded to me, knowing.

Councilor Anderson gave me a warm smile.

I had a hard time looking at Ashley standing right in front of me, so I picked up her award first.

She was kind enough not to tease me as I pinned the gold star over her uniform, joined next to the only other commendation she had received on Titan for her bold assault techniques. These two commendations appeared as such a contrast there over her chest: a before and after of how opportunity had changed her entire career. How a real chance had impacted her on such a fundamental level.

I had given Ashley a chance to change my mind, after all.

With that one chance, she had done more than I ever could have imagined. She saw my thoughts as I finally returned her stare.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Williams," I told her. "You've earned it."

Beaming at me, more, Ashley gave a salute. "Thank you, Commander. Thanks…for giving me a chance, and for believing in me."

I returned her salute, confident that I had made the right decisions, all of the right decisions: meant to be.

---

Once the ceremony itself was over, everyone stuck around afterward, mingling together in the area.

I stayed with Ashley this time, keeping her arm linked through mine. Joker joined us as we talked with Admiral Hackett and Councilor Anderson for a while.

At some point, though, Ambassador Udina barged over to us, interrupting our vibe and our conversation to steal Hackett and Anderson away to go talk to someone else.

"Wow," soured Joker. "That guy never changes. You'd think he'd take that stick out of his ass by now."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "Seems to me like that stick is just way too big for him to take out. It's no wonder he can't do it."

"Oh, so you're gonna leave an easy one for me? Is that it?"

I pointed out, "Looks like you never change, either."

Joker grinned. "Obviously not!"

"Hey, I think you've changed enough," allowed Ashley. "You got all dressed up and came out to see me. And you seriously stayed here on the station with Shepard this whole time, instead of going home to see your Dad and your little sister. You care about me that much, huh?"

"Uh, maybe…? Or maybe I just didn't want the Alliance poking around the Normandy too much without me there! Ever think of that? Jeez, Ash, you're so freaking self-centered…"

"I'll take that as a yes, then!"

While Ashley kept teasing Joker in good-humor, I felt someone tap me on my shoulder.

Or my arm, really, since this person was shorter than me.

Way shorter, I had to look down to regard her properly—and when I did, I found a sixteen-year-old version of Ashley smiling up at me in a mischievous sort of curiosity. This had to be Sarah, the youngest of the family. Even in the almost-ten year age difference between them, I saw so much of Ashley there in the shape of her bright blue eyes, and the general structure of her face. Wearing her long, dark hair down, she had on a nice dress for the occasion, and without much makeup, of course.

As a more naïve echo of her oldest sister, Sarah asked me, "Hey, you're Commander Shepard, right? My sister's girlfriend?"

Joker had said that only two of Ashley's sisters had disapproved alongside her mother, so…

"That's right," I confirmed. "You must be Sarah. I've heard a lot about you."

Sarah giggled for some reason, offering her hand. "Yeah, I am! It's really nice to meet you, Commander. I'm excited!"

I shook her small hand, mindful not to grip as hard as I was used to.

Ashley and Joker were so busy wise-cracking each other, they didn't even notice Sarah here with me.

I wondered, "Why are you excited, exactly?"

Sarah explained, "Ever since my sister got back home, I've been trying to get her to talk to me about you. She wouldn't budge. I knew something was up when I asked about you in one of my vid-mails last month. She didn't respond to me! So then I emailed her, asking again. She responded to everything else I wrote except about you! So now that you're here, I want you to answer my questions. If you're up for it, that is…"

I remembered Ashley describing her youngest sister as the quiet type who was exceptionally smart. No-nonsense, no patience for people thinking she was a pushover just because she didn't talk much, though still very much a recluse who only trusted her oldest sister: Sarah had sounded nothing like the person standing in front of me today. I had assumed that she would never have been this bold and direct. Despite appearing to leave her offer open, she seemed to expect me to go along with the interview she wanted.

Whatever the case, Sarah's impish tone and smile made it difficult for me to tell her no.

Besides, Joker and Ashley had progressed to talking shit to each other now, laughing together.

"All right, then," I accepted. "Have it your way."

"Perfect!" cheered Sarah, pulling me along by the sleeve of my uniform. "Come with me!"

Not really minding either way, I asked, "Where are we going?"

"Away from my sister!"

As Sarah dragged me away to the other end of the ballroom, some of the people around us had to step out of her pre-determined path. Spotting the undeniable resemblance to Ashley, everyone had picked up on what this was all about. Plenty of them laughed to themselves at this sight of me of all people getting tugged around by a sixteen-year-old. I could've sworn I heard Anderson chuckling somewhere, too, making a comment about the excitement of youth.

Secluded from the crowd, Sarah had us stop right near one of the empty balconies.

"Okay, now make a promise," she whispered, serious. "You can't tell my sister anything about this. If she asks, you're not allowed to say a word. Got it?"

"That's fine with me," I told her.

Getting straight to it, Sarah pointed at me, accusing, "So you're the one she's been obsessed over for like the past six years. Aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am… How'd you figure that out?"

"I had no idea who it was for the longest. Just that it was someone. I had a feeling, you know? Then, last week, I thought back to the tiniest thing from like three years ago… I was taking a mythology class in school at the time. You know how we live out on Amaterasu, right? I randomly told my sister one day that Amaterasu is the Japanese goddess of the sun and the universe. She got super weird about it and wouldn't say anything. And then when I saw you with her back there, everything clicked. Your first name is Sol, isn't it? The sun?"

That sounded exactly like the type of clue Ashley would leave behind without realizing it.

When I could only smile, Sarah laughed.

"I knew it!" she said. "This has been like the biggest mystery about her. You know what else gave it away, too? Her expensive clothes! Her new wardrobe! Did you buy all of that for her?!"

"I might have."

Sarah laughed again. "Yeah, it was you," she figured. "Plus, she's been way happier over the past few months. It's so easy to hear it in her voice from her vid-mails. I wondered what it was. I asked her about it. She wouldn't tell me anything. Now I finally know for sure…"

I noticed how sad she sounded at the end there.

She saw the look of concern in my eyes.

Needing to understand, Sarah asked, "Do you know…why she never told me? I mean, we talk to each other about everything. I have Lynn and Abby, yeah, but she's my big sis. She's the only one who's really there for me no matter what. When I was younger, I kind of noticed that she was sad about something. It made me open up to her more, hoping she would share that part of her with me. Then I ended up finding out through the news that you two are dating… So does she not actually trust me…? Is that it?"

"Sarah, I don't think this is about Ash not trusting you," I explained. "She wasn't sure how to tell you any of this. Considering how the rest of your family reacted, I feel like she was afraid you'd be the same. She didn't want to lose you."

"I get that, but…she didn't even try to tell me at all. No hints. No hypothetical questions. Nothing…"

"Unfortunately, I don't have an answer for that. I'm sorry. All I know is that she didn't want to hurt you."

Not blaming me at all, Sarah frowned in frustration. "Well, it still hurts when she won't say anything," she shared. "I hate that she keeps secrets like this. I hate that my sister lies when she thinks it'll protect someone. I hate that she lies to protect herself! Like, I grew up watching her do that for so long. I lost my voice in a way. I learned to stop talking because that's all she would ever do. Whenever things are too hard for her to deal with, she just shuts down and goes into self-protection mode. I really hate it."

I had a strong feeling that I needed to learn from Sarah about this: "When you noticed your sister doing that, what else did you do? Was there some way you got her to open up and actually talk to you?"

"Honestly, I don't know," she admitted, exasperated. "I tried everything! I tried confronting her—then she argues with me and shuts everything down. I tried waiting a while before asking nicely—then she changes the subject like it's no big deal. I tried giving her space—then she acts like I'm dumb and I forgot what the problem was! I swear, she's exactly like the saying about the women in our family. We do things when we're ready. Not before."

This was very true…

Sarah stared at me for a short while.

Unreadable, it was difficult to gauge her thoughts like this.

When it seemed like she couldn't figure out what to say, I asked her, "Something else on your mind?"

Sarah wanted to know, "You haven't hurt my sister or anything, have you? Not since you two have been together, at least. Whatever happened before she was your girlfriend doesn't count right now."

"Nothing major," I shared. "I just have a habit of being distant sometimes. She doesn't always like it. I'm working on that."

"Well, I already know that she loves you. It's super obvious. Do you love her…?"

I could barely admit the same to Ashley herself, yet I managed to tell her sister the truth: "Yes, I love her."

"Okay then," accepted Sarah, smiling again. "I want things to stay that way. It's like you make her invincible. It's really special. And promise me you won't ever break her heart! You're not allowed to."

No matter our situation, the words still slipped out: "I promise I won't ever break your sister's heart."

"I believe you, Commander. You're pretty convincing."

"I mean it, Sarah."

"Yeah, I know!" she said, playful. "You know what I don't get, though? Why are you still the same rank as before? You saved the Citadel all on your own! I saw the vids! Why didn't you get a promotion, too? No awards, no medals?"

"I'm ranked high enough as a Spectre," I replied, not wanting to share the rest. "Besides, I think being Commander is part of my brand at this point. I wouldn't want to change it. Don't want to confuse anyone."

Sarah giggled loudly. "Oh, my God, wow," she expressed. "You sound totally smooth and serious, but it's so hilarious the way you say it! You're like the exact opposite of my big sis. No wonder she's this obsessed with you—"

"HEY! Goddamnit, Sarah!"

Ashley stormed over to us in a rage.

Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Don't give me that!" snapped Ashley. "You stole Shepard without saying anything! Do you know how freaked out I was when it looked like she just disappeared?! Why the hell didn't you ask first?"

Sassing, Sarah replied, "Because you would've said no. Obviously."

"Seriously? What's with the attitude!?"

"I don't have an attitude," claimed Sarah, about to leave. "Look, you're on-edge from dealing with Mom. I get it. Just don't take it out on me anymore. You've been like this ever since you got back home. I'm over it. I'm done." She waved goodbye to me. "Maybe we'll talk again when someone's in a better mood. I bet you can take care of that, can't you? Thanks, Commander!"

I nodded to Sarah as she went, returning to the rest of her family.

Ashley scoffed, watching her go. "God, she's such a brat."

I mentioned, "Now why does that sound familiar?"

"Shepard, stop," she ordered, hitting at my arm. "Don't even. Better yet, why didn't you say anything? Didn't we go over this already…?"

"We did go over this," I conceded. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know. Sorry I worried you. Your sister really wanted to talk to me. You could've called, though. We're in the same system again, remember?"

Sheepish now, Ashley realized that I was right. "I could have, yeah… I should've called you when I first got here, too. We haven't been able to lately. I completely forgot." Putting the incident behind her, she sighed with the realities of the present. "Joker went to his room already. He's going back home to Tiptree tomorrow. It's been two weeks already. Then in two more weeks, it's back to business as usual. Back to work again. Back on the Normandy with everyone. Feels weird… Almost like I can't keep up."

Not as secluded anymore, I noticed a few more people starting to move over to this area.

I also noticed exactly why Ashley was so crestfallen: that specific mention of everyone on the ship.

Setting my hand along the small of her back, I guided Ashley out to the balcony with me.

She went with my movements, leaning into my touch as much as she could. Once we were outside, secluded once more, I made sure that we stayed far enough away from the railing overlooking the wide view of the station. She was much better with heights in relaxed situations like this, but I still didn't want to take any chances. I held Ashley close to me, needing this reminder of how she felt in my arms; needing the stronger reminder of her grip around my back, my shoulders. I had missed this certainty of having her waist locked in my hold, feeling the way she breathed against me, her chest pressed so tightly beneath mine. Even now, it didn't matter where we were—I felt myself starting and starting, stroked as a match to catch fire each time Ashley stroked me, stroking my neck up to my hair, craving.

Moaning with the same, Ashley sighed against my uniform collar. "Fuck, I missed you, Shepard… I lost count of how many times I wanted to ask if we could—you know… I needed to let you hear me, at least. It was so bad." Calming a bit, she slowed her breathing this time. "And not just with sex, either. Whenever I was in my bed, I wanted you to hold me again. Actually getting to sleep with you before Ilos was so perfect. I kept thinking about it, every night."

"I missed you, too, Ash," I expressed. "For the same reasons."

"Well, we're not going through that again," declared Ashley. "I'm staying with you now. That's final."

"I'm glad to hear it, babe. I'll take you back to my apartment once you're ready to head out. But what about your family?"

Ashley shook her head against me. "I told them I was only staying for two weeks," she said. "After that, I planned on surprising you at home with a more permanent visit. Funny coincidence—you were here the whole time. And then you surprised me with this. You changed my career, my life. Everything."

Breathing harder now in frustration, Ashley's pain was clear to me.

Still, I wanted her to say it. "Talk to me, Ash. Tell me what's on your mind."

"Shepard, after everything you did for me, for my family…my mother and my two other sisters refuse to change their fucking ways. You argued my case for me, helped me get this promotion I've always wanted. And you got granddad exonerated. Formally exonerated by the Alliance! Admiral Hackett even apologized for the way my Dad got screwed over while he was still alive! You did all of that because you care, because you believe in me, and they still look at you like you're some demon out to corrupt me…"

The way Ashley said that word—demon…

I caught an otherworldly amount of anger and hatred there in her tone, her pronunciation.

As far-removed as I was from the idea of family, I wasn't personally hurt by anything she said. I only ached because she was upset, because the rest of her relatives couldn't get over this. I didn't know what to say, either. All I could do was hold her tighter, tighter and more supportive, supporting her softer and stronger: as strong as my love for her.

I worried for her, too. Now more than ever.

With the rest of Ashley's stresses and concerns and secrets, this just added more to the already-dangerous pile of her problems.

Holding her in my arms like this, I felt her—I felt the way that Ashley could have easily snapped at any moment, acting out in aggression over her anguish. By the sounds of things, she had already taken out some of her anger on Sarah back home. Yet by some miracle, Ashley didn't do the same with me. She allowed me to reset her as much as possible, bringing her back to a relatively normal level again. She held me even tighter as I did this, unintentionally, needing me as much as she did.

Ashley leaned on me completely as her rock, her true emotional support.

Needing her to need me like this, I couldn't help loving her more for it, warmed and heated by her.

Validated by the way she set her pride aside to be this way with me, I adored her so much more.

"Ashley," I said, stroking her hair. "I love you. I'm here for you. And I would do anything for you. I mean it."

"I love you, too, Shepard," she said back, somehow smiling. "You don't know how many times I've heard that. I'd do anything for you. You're the first person I actually believe. Because you've already done it! You've already done everything; way more than I could've ever asked for. God, you're such a miracle to me."

As her miracle, I truly wanted to give her anything and everything.

On a smaller scale, I could have given Ashley a rose one day of the week, the same rose on the second day, and the same on the third day. I could have done this every single day, for the rest of days. And she still would have been just as grateful, just as sweet in her response as she was on the first day, treating every single gift as a new occurrence, even though she remembered the others perfectly fine. No matter what felt the same, every day with her felt new to me. Every moment with her felt brighter, deeper and more meaningful.

Interrupting these sentiments, an alert sounded to my omni-tool—an email from someone.

Making sure that Ashley didn't mind first, I kept my arms around her, checking to see what this was…

From: Illusive Man – Congratulations.

Commander,

You may not know who I am, though I know a great deal about you. As anyone in the galaxy should.

I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. Taking out Sovereign and saving the Citadel on your own must have been daunting. I respect that you were up to the task. Humanity has made great gains thanks to you, now that we have Councilor Anderson representing our species among the galactic community. And you are of course the first human Spectre. That cannot be overstated.

I applaud what you have managed to achieve in your career thus far, Commander Shepard. I can only imagine what else is waiting for you out there across time and space. Your strength is your guide, and your will is unyielding. You represent the very best of what humanity has to offer.

Perhaps someday we will get the chance to meet, and to discuss your great achievements. Something tells me that we just might do so after all. One day.

-Illusive Man

How unexpected.

This stranger's praise aside, I couldn't help feeling like I recognized this name from somewhere.

Ashley wondered, "What's up, Skipper? You finish reading that email?"

I showed it to her, letting her read the whole thing.

As she did, Ashley's scowl grew deeper and deeper, until she reached the end.

"Do you know who this is?" I asked her.

"I'd recognize that name anywhere," she sneered. "Remember that Cerberus manifesto, the one that made the organization notorious a while back? This was right after the First Contact War. They claimed that human genocide at the hands of aliens was inevitable. So Cerberus was supposed to guard the Charon Relay leading to Earth, protecting us from the so-called alien invasion. Everyone mocked it as some 'survivalist rhetoric written by an illusive man.' That's their leader today. The Illusive Man."

"I remember now… That human nationalist. What the hell is he trying to pull, sending me this email?"

Ashley scowled more, saying, "With all due respect, Sir, you should probably tell him to kiss your ass."

"You're such a charmer, babe," I remarked, closing my omni-tool. "I think I'll just ignore him."

"That works, too."

Quiet again, Ashley and I went back to the strange limbo we had been in earlier, before the ceremony.

Even with this feeling, she let me be here with her like this, not minding who saw or who stared at us from back inside the building. She still wanted the galaxy to know that she was mine. No matter how her family had reacted, she wasn't going to let that stop her. She was able to ignore all of that, for now, her heart and her troubles doubling right back to the one thing that neither of us could disregard.

Ashley pulled away just enough to look at me properly. Gazing up at me, she had so many questions plain there in the depths of her wide eyes. So many questions that I wasn't sure I had the answers to, at least not at this exact moment. So much she wanted to share with me; so much that she worried about, not able to find the solutions she needed on her own. The longer she stared at me, the more she seemed to settle on one particular problem, one particular issue that she couldn't get away from.

Something told me that she had meant to ask me about this after the Citadel. She hadn't for some reason.

"What is it, Ash?"

"I've been kind of scared to bring this up," she shared. "I wanted to keep an eye on you first, but maybe I should just ask. Are you…okay? You know, after Sovereign. When that indoctrination looked like it was about to get to you, I could tell you were in a lot of pain. I wasn't sure what would happen. I felt my heart about to break for you… And then you bounced back. So, I have to know: are you still you?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," I reassured her. "I really am. Somehow. Why? Do I not seem like myself?"

"You seem perfectly fine. The same."

I raised my brow. "And that worries you?"

"I don't know," admitted Ashley. "Even though I watched you in real-time, everything still feels hard to believe. Almost like I can't trust my own two eyes. I guess, what I'm trying to say is—I keep expecting something with you to change. Knowing how you pulled all of that off, it makes sense that you might not feel as much for me anymore… But you seem the same."

If anything, I…

"Why hasn't anything changed with you, Shepard? Why are you still exactly the same as when we woke up together before Ilos? Doesn't that worry you…?"

…

I really couldn't find the words to explain this to her.

I didn't understand this myself.

I didn't understand any of it.

All I knew was that when Ashley looked up at me like this—effortless in her expressiveness, simply trying to get through to me in earnest—I loved her more, not less. I wanted to be around her more than I did yesterday, more than those weeks ago. I needed her with me now more than ever.

So natural in her boundless beauty: the artificial moonlight shining above us was brighter because of her. Not the other way around. Brighter because this light had reached Ashley's skin; farther-reaching because this light shadowed her next to me; and shadowed this very shade because that was what she wanted, that was what she believed, and so that was what I perceived.

Whatever she believed, I felt like I had the power to make it so, only for her, crafting this in her image.

But after everything we'd learned, this was selfish of me. Or maybe it wasn't. I couldn't know. I didn't know:

I didn't know what was true anymore.

Aside from how I felt, my own feelings, and hers for me, I didn't know anything for certain.

Ashley knew that I didn't have any answers to her earlier questions.

So she asked me instead, "Have you talked to her at all?"

"She told me not to," I replied. "Not during the break. I did get an email from her yesterday. Whenever I'm ready, she wants to speak to me in my room."

"That's fair, I guess. I'll just…go down to my room while you do that. Whenever you do it."

I tried reassuring her, "It won't be right away. I'll likely wait a few weeks first."

Weighed down even more, Ashley still nodded. "Okay…"

"Babe, I'm not doing anything with her. And I'm not leaving you."

"Doesn't matter, Shepard," she insisted. "Look, I don't want to get into it. For now, I'm fine. We have time. I still have my freedom with you. There's no reason for me to worry. The rest hasn't hit me yet. When it does, I know things will change with me… I know how I'll react. I know that I'll be a freaking mess over it. I just need to know if you'll still be there for me when that change happens."

Removed enough from everyone back inside, I gave Ashley my lips over hers as this first promise. She moved into me more, finding the rest of my assurances here, reserved for her alone and no one else. I couldn't find a way to convey anything more, so ambiguous and illegible through my intuition: of how convinced I was that I had made the right choices, even in my mistakes in the past. Because Ashley was my heart as much as she was my soul, radiating out in this vitality that she had given me.

Until I could find the words, our duty awaited us, waiting to take hold.

Just another routine mission.