Running Silent:

Sound of Thunder

…

An alternate ME3. Commander Shepard and her team are on the run from Cerberus and trying to make alliances before it's too late. In a galaxy with no reaper kill switch, how can they hope to defeat something so ancient and powerful? Their last hope is a desperate plan that may cost them everything. Shepard/Garrus, other side pairings.

…

Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to Bioware.

…

A crushing silence followed in their wake of EDI's announcement.

Shepard wanted to scream. She wanted to curl up on the floor and cry. She wanted to crush something with her biotics, to pound her fists on the bulkhead until she punched through to the other side.

She did none of those things.

She took a deep breath, loosened the fists that had formed at her sides, and gathered what scraps of strength and composure she had left. At long last, she willed herself to look around the shuttle and take stock.

Kasumi faced away from her, posture rigid but revealing little. Solana sat on the bench staring in blank shock at the opposite wall. An untrained eye would believe Zaeed unaffected by the news, but Shepard saw the haunted look in his steely gaze. Garrus's expression was deliberately calm, but his fingers gripped his rifle so tightly that she worried he might bend the barrel. And Tali was staring straight at Shepard, fear rolling off her body in waves.

Her team needed direction before they lost themselves to fear and despair. They needed their commander. She held her voice steady. "When we reach the Normandy, stow your weapons and armor as usual. Fifteen minutes from boarding, meet me in the conference room." Fifteen minutes didn't give her long to prepare, but she couldn't allow them the time to wallow in worry. They needed a purpose, a goal—something specific and attainable. They needed somewhere to direct their feelings before they lost themselves in fear and worry.

"Commander." The AI's voice filled the quiet shuttle. "Specialist T'Nara wishes me to inform you that the Athena Nebula and Annos Basin have now gone silent as well."

"In the last few minutes?" Shepard asked tersely.

"Yes, Commander." She sounded sorrowful, as if she regretted having to give the news. "Additionally, I seek to inform you that there are five calls coming in over the QEC."

Shepard took a deep breath, rubbing her forehead with a hand. A headache was already starting to form behind her eyes. "From who?"

"You have calls waiting from the Citadel council, Admiral Hackett, and Liara T'Soni. Deputy Commander Vakarian has a call waiting from Primarch Fedorian, and Chief Engineer Tali'Zorah has a call waiting from the Migrant Fleet's admiralty board."

Garrus's head shot up and Tali begin wringing her hands. "What should I tell them, Shepard?" she asked, voice tinged with desperation.

Shepard took only a moment to consider. "Tell them to keep moving," she instructed, "And to stay away from any of the home systems. Those sound like the primary targets. We can pass on more intel to them once we have it."

She turned her attention back to the AI. "Route the primarch's call through to the main battery and the admiralty board's to engineering." She locked eyes with Tali and Garrus in turn, who both seemed to have mastered their emotions for the time being. "And push that meeting back to half an hour."

"Understood," EDI replied, and the comm clicked off.

"Two minutes to dock," came O'Connor's hollow voice from the cockpit. Shepard had never seen her shuttle pilot so subdued, but she made no comment. At a time like this, there was nothing to say.

After two long minutes, the door finally opened, allowing the team to silently file out into the cargo bay.

…

Shepard stared blankly at the galaxy map projected in the center of the conference table, red lights flashing mockingly from the reaper-controlled systems. In the time she had spent in conversation, their numbers had grown. Thessia, Khar'Shan, Tuchanka, Irune, Dekuuna, Sur'Kesh, Palaven, Kahje…

Earth.

Her shoulders sagged under the weight of worlds. Whole systems. A galaxy begging for guidance—for a savior. She leaned heavily over the table, the cold metal edge digging into her palms. She welcomed the discomfort, anything to fight the numbness that threatened to overtake her. Limp red locks fell across her eyes, hiding her face during the short moment of weakness she allowed herself. She had to pull herself together and be strong for her crew. Shepard was only human, but her success depended on others forgetting that.

Liara had been a mess when they spoke on comm. Shepard could see the utter panic in her eyes, the disbelief. Thessia was burning and she hadn't been able to prevent it. The only thing keeping Liara going was her work. Hackett had only wanted a few words with Shepard—far too busy for more. He'd immediately offered her a spot back in the Alliance, a promotion. She'd turned him down, and the feed had gone dark. The council first gave her the welcome news that the Citadel was free of reapers for the moment. Then they asked—nearly begged—her to come, to discuss her spectre status and the next steps they needed to take. It was the most civil they'd ever been to her. She was no longer a fugitive—not now that they needed her.

Shepard straightened up at the sound of the door opening, the first of her crew to arrive for their meeting. When she saw it was Garrus she let herself relax, but he barely seemed to see her.

Agitated steps brought him to her side. "My advisory position just went official," he said numbly. "I just jumped several citizenship tiers. Primarch's council. Very respectable." He tried to sound wry, but failed miserably.

She put a hand on his arm to halt his pacing, but he still vibrated with nervous tension. "I can't think of anyone who would do a better job," she told him truthfully and then paused as the realization hit her. "Does this mean you'll need to leave the Normandy?" She damned the quiver that slipped into her voice.

Garrus finally met her eyes, dim with worry but firm on her own. "I told him it would be long distance or not at all. So I'll be needing to borrow your QEC every now and then." His arms went around her, thumbs rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. She slipped her hands to the chestplate of his armor, fingers curling over the edge of his cowl. "I promised not to leave you again," he said, his low voice vibrating through his chest. "I meant it. Shepard and Vakarian, always."

Shepard sagged against him in silent relief. His support—his faith in her—kept her going when it seemed all else had gone dark. Though this day had been a punch to the gut, she still had this, her one steady thing among so much madness. She had a reason to keep her head above water—something more to look forward to than survival.

"What are you fighting for?" Liara had once asked. "A chance to give Garrus some peace?"

The answer was still yes, and she would battle to her last breath to make it happen.

Shepard's crew filtered in slowly and silently. Not even during their suicide mission had they been so somber. Outside the relative safety of the Normandy, people—civilians—were fighting and dying. They all knew that the Normandy was where they needed to be, but that knowledge didn't make it easier.

Kasumi was the last to enter, not even bothering to cloak. The panels behind her closed, and Shepard finally stepped forward to break the silence. "EDI, put me through to the crew."

"You are broadcasting now, Commander."

"This is Commander Shepard speaking." She stood tall and proud, her blue eyes glinting harshly like the steel edge of a sword. "I know you're afraid," she said.

"I know you want to be out there fighting instead of in here monitoring the drive core or writing mission reports. I know you want to be helping your homeworlds and your people. So do I." She paused, lowering her head for a moment. When she raised her eyes again, they burned. "But I also know that none of us can do this alone."

"This isn't going to be a straightforward fight. We will be needed for more than just our guns." She gazed at each of them, challenging them to meet her resolve. "I need each of you to stay strong. The reapers may have gotten the first strike but we will have the last."

Disbelief flickered through the eyes of her teammates, but Shepard allowed no doubt to enter hers. "We're going to bring everyone together from across the galaxy. We will lead. We will strengthen their resolve. And we will show the reapers that we can't be ignored." Her heart beat faster at her own words, her blood singing with anticipation of the fight before them.

She took a deep breath. "We dock at the Citadel at 0900 tomorrow morning to meet with the council. All requisition orders need to be in Miranda's hands two hours prior. Your duties will continue as usual. Further announcements will be made after our trip to the Citadel. Shepard out."

She gazed around the room at her team. The Axion mission, less than an hour earlier, seemed like so long ago now. They were all visibly worn down, but Shepard found a grim satisfaction in new resolve she saw in their eyes. "Get some sleep and something to eat. I expect you all at your best tomorrow. Dismissed."

The team dissipated slowly, heading to their stations or the mess hall. Shepard waited for the last to exit before she did the same, heading not to her quarters but into the war room. The flurry of activity was a new development, assistants moving to and fro from console to console with renewed purpose. Formerly dark screens were now lit up with news vids or info feeds, intel from across the galaxy. The central console displayed the galaxy now, red-ringed clusters signaling the places they'd failed to defend. It was only a matter of time before the red festered and spread, an infection in their midst.

Shepard tore her eyes away. "T'Nara." Shepard's tone was sharp, but the asari didn't flinch.

Hestia nodded towards an empty terminal to her left. "Your messages and the latest reports are queued up on the terminal," she said, fingers still flying over the keyboard in front of her.

Shepard approached the terminal to find hundreds of messages and urgent-flagged reports, more coming in every minute. She took a deep, cleansing breath and dove in.

Hours later—she wasn't certain how many—Shepard rubbed her eyes blearily. Every time she neared the end of her messages, several more arrived. It was never-ending. Activity swarmed around her, but she was too busy to look up from her terminal. She had tuned out the Normandy in favor of the words that now swam in front of her eyes.

"Specialist T'Nara," a flanged voice said, and her head snapped up. Garrus strode up to Hestia without a glance in Shepard's direction. "Can you transfer Shepard's current messages to a datapad? That will be all for tonight," he ordered. "The commander is off-duty until 0700."

The CO of a ship is never off-duty, she wanted to protest, but all she did was stare. What the hell did he think he was doing? Her deputy commander's eyes never strayed from the asari as she typed in a few commands and handed him a datapad. Only then did he turn to Shepard.

"Commander," he said deferentially, but the hard look in his eye belied his tone. He knew she wouldn't argue in front of the crew.

Jaw set, she headed to the elevator with him following on her heels. As soon as the door closed behind them, she whipped around with a glare. "What the hell was that?"

He crossed his arms, unfazed by her anger. "That was me putting my foot down. Neither of us wants Chakwas to lock you up in the med bay again, Shepard, so do everyone a favor and try to take care of yourself," he said firmly. "You know better than to run yourself ragged."

Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "I have survived this long without your interference, Vakarian."

Garrus took a step forward, closing the distance between them. He towered over her, but she refused to be intimidated. "You chose me as your second-in-command because you trust me. Because I'm willing to disagree with you. So let me disagree now," he said. "The reapers may not take breaks, but you're going to have to. If you don't put up these boundaries now, it will never stop. The things you tell your crew also apply to you."

The elevator doors opened, but she didn't pass through them yet, unwilling to falter under his gaze. After a long moment, she narrowed her eyes. "If you don't trust my judgment, fine, but don't undermine me in front of the crew."

She yanked the datapad from his hand and turned on her heel, marching into her quarters. She headed to the couch but stopped short when she was greeted by the sight and smell of a food tray on her coffee table. Her stomach growled. She tried in vain to cling to her anger, but it had already begun to slip out of her grasp. Damn him. She let out a sigh, shoulders drooping.

His footsteps came up behind her slowly. "I'm sorry, Shepard," he said quietly. "I just don't know how to handle this."

She turned to him, a question in her eyes.

Garrus began to pace the floor of her quarters. "I do trust your judgment, Shepard," he told her. "Never doubt that. But you put so much of yourself into the mission that you don't take care of yourself. Everyone out there needs you at your best." He paused, coming back to face her. "I need you."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you trying to use my feelings for you to guilt me into taking a rest?"

His mandibles flared at the accusation, but his gaze stayed serious. "If that's what it takes," he said quietly. "Some things are worth risking your anger for."

The datapad fell to the table with a clatter as Shepard impulsively reached for him. She pulled his face down for a kiss. A hand wound through her hair and another wrapped around her back, holding her close. She eased her grip on him, gently pressing her forehead against his. "I won't promise something I'm not sure I can give you," she said truthfully. "But I will try."

…

Shepard entered an office that used to be Anderson's, a man who had been something like a father to her. A man now on Earth, either fighting or dead.

Another man sat in his chair. "Udina," she greeted. She couldn't hide the grudge her voice carried.

"Shepard," he said in kind, looking up from his desk with haunted eyes. Had he slept at all since the news came in?

They sized each other up like enemies—which they once were, not so long ago. Neither was quite sure how to bridge the gap to ally.

Shepard approached the desk, crossing her arms. "What's the situation with Earth and the Alliance?"

"Arcturus is gone," he said flatly. "Destroyed on the way to Earth. Vancouver has been under heavy reaper attack. The Alliance is in chaos. Admiral Hackett is the highest ranking officer confirmed alive. Prime Minister Shastri was on Earth and currently out of contact, possibly dead." He recited it like a script. "The second fleet is gone. Sacrificed so that the other fleets could escape the Sol system."

Shepard stared at him in disbelief. "A full retreat?"

His eyes were dull when he met her gaze. "Hackett tells me they were being decimated. They won't return to Earth until a solid plan of attack is formed."

Silence fell between them. Shepard fidgeted slightly. "Have you heard anything about—"

"Admiral Anderson?" Udina supplied. He could hardly be unaware of the friendship between Anderson and herself.

"Admiral?" she questioned.

The councilor nodded. "He was offered the promotion when he left this office. Last I heard he was alive and attempting to coordinate some kind of resistance on Earth."

For the first time since the reapers arrived, Shepard cracked a smile.

A light flashed on Udina's terminal, the signal that the meeting was about to begin. Udina pressed a button, and holographic images of the three other councilors flickered into existence at their pedestals. The two humans stepped forward to greet them.

"Councilors," Shepard greeted tersely. She didn't look forward to this meeting, necessary as it was.

"Commander Shepard," Councilor Tevos said. Did a dead woman retain her rank? Shepard wondered idly, not for the first time. "We find ourselves in the uncomfortable position of asking for your help."

"You and everyone else," she muttered.

Tevos overlooked her comment seamlessly. "Do you have any recommendations on how to handle this invasion?"

Shepard took a moment to consider. "How are your homeworlds faring?" she asked. "Your fleets?"

"This is like nothing we've ever encountered," Sparatus answered. "The turian fleet is barely holding. Thousands die by the hour."

Valern nodded. "The situation on Sur'Kesh is similar."

"And Thessia?"

For a split second, the asari councilor's perfect composure cracked. "Thessia burns," she said.

Shepard looked from one councilor to another, fear in their eyes and responsibility on their shoulders. "I would start by getting your leaders safely off the homeworlds. Without them, everything will fall into chaos. We can't allow that to happen."

She paused a moment, remembering the visions that had plagued her mind since Eden Prime. Her expression hardened. "The other thing I would say is that we need all races to band together. If we try to fight this war alone, we die." She eyed them sharply. "That doesn't mean only council races."

"Yes," Valern agreed, to the commander's surprise. "We convene a summit amongst all willing species." Shepard could almost see the calculations running in the salarian's mind.

Shepard nodded. "We need to collaborate ideas and technology, to strengthen each other and organize."

"Won't that be dangerous?" Sparatus asked in his haughty way. "Giving prized technological advancements to species that have not proved they are capable of handling such knowledge?"

Shepard bit down on the urge to respond rudely, but she still crossed her arms in annoyance. "Trust me, Councilor. Should we survive this war, no race will be in any condition to start another."

Tevos took up her mantle as peacekeeper once again. "Those things can be decided during the summit," she said calmly. "Until then, I think Shepard's plan is a satisfactory one."

"Excellent," Valern said. "Shepard will retrieve our leaders and bring them to the Citadel for our summit."

"I'm a soldier, not a courier," she objected bluntly. "And last I knew, I was a wanted criminal. You stripped me of my spectre status."

"The Normandy is one of few ships that can enter and leave reaper-controlled space undetected. And there is no one we trust more to bring our leaders to safety," the salarian answered. "As you know, the order to arrest you has been rescinded."

Shepard raised a brow at that, but conceded their point. "Fine," she said shortly. "I'll be happy to help retrieve leaders when I can. But I wouldn't advise bringing them here. You need a secure and unknown location for the summit."

"Why?" Sparatus asked, crossing his arms.

"Because the Citadel is tactically significant," she said simply. "The reapers haven't hit it yet, but they may soon. I'd prefer if our galactic leaders weren't in attendance for that."

Valern looked alarmed. "Should the council evacuate?"

Sparatus spoke up. "It would throw the entire population into a panic," he said, sounding grim. "We must stay."

Shepard nodded her agreement. "You'll have to make a show of going about your daily business. People need that kind of reassurance or else everything will fall apart."

"Understood, Shepard," Valern conceded. He didn't look happy about it.

"There is one more thing, Commander," Tevos said. She glanced at Sparatus.

The turian councilor spoke uncomfortably. "We request that you return to the Spectres, Commander. The council is prepared to overlook your… situation, and reinstate you. Your actions appear to have been vindicated, and while the batarians won't look kindly on your reinstatement, they are in no position to argue at this time."

Shepard knew this was coming, of course, but she wouldn't give in so easily. "If I'm doing this, I want to do it on my terms." She leveled a harsh gaze at the councilors in front of her. "You've doubted my judgment before and been repeatedly wrong. I need the freedom to make my own decisions rather than come back to ask permission every time I have to make a choice." She took a deep breath. "I'm going to win this war with or without your help. But I'd suggest not standing in my way."

The councilors shared looks among themselves.

She stared them down, praying to whatever deities were out there that they wouldn't realize she was bluffing. She kept telling everyone she was going to win this war, and so far she didn't even have a plan.

Tevos looked to Shepard's left. "Councilor Udina?" The human councilor had been silent for the entirety of the meeting.

He lifted his chin. "I stand behind Commander Shepard," he said simply, without betraying a single look in the commander's direction.

Only a small quirk around Shepard's mouth gave away her surprise.

There was silence for a moment before Tevos spoke up. "Very well," she said. "You will be given the rights and resources of a Spectre, and we vow to trust your judgment to do right with those privileges."

Shepard's expression eased. "Thank you, Councilors. Do you have somewhere you'd like me to start?"

Sparatus cleared his throat. "I have been able to keep in contact via QEC with the primarch of Palaven and our main military base on Menae—"

"Thanks to Garrus Vakarian," Shepard interjected. She'd be damned if anyone on her team didn't get the credit they deserved.

He gave an acknowledging nod. "Primarch Fedorian can meet you at the base on Menae. I will give you the landing coordinates and let them know you are coming."

Thank you," she said, and glanced at the other councilors. "Anything else?"

"That will be all for the moment, Commander," Tevos said. "We will speak soon about locating additional leaders and finding a safe place for them to reside until our summit."

With that, the holograms flickered out. Shepard turned to the human councilor with a lifted brow. "You were awfully quiet during that meeting, Udina."

"What is there to say?" he asked grimly. "Earth is lost. I will do whatever it takes to get it back."

They weren't easy allies, but they were in this together.

…

"So? How'd it go?"

Shepard turned left as she came through the airlock, finding her pilot waiting. She shrugged as she approached, leaning back against the wall. "Surprisingly well," she admitted. "The council was very civil."

"Said no one ever," Joker countered. She rolled her eyes. "You sure you didn't hallucinate this meeting?"

Shepard let out a laugh. "Believe me, I couldn't have imagined this one in my wildest dreams. Set a course for Palaven, Joker. We'll leave as soon as all crew are present and accounted for."

"Aye aye, ma'am."

Shepard turned to the AI's holographic interface. "EDI, let the team know as they board that there will be a meeting in the conference room twenty minutes post-departure."

"Yes, Commander."

Shepard turned to go.

"Hey, Commander?"

She stopped.

Joker looked over his shoulder at her. "What's on Palaven?"

She gave him a small smile. "We're going to get us a turian primarch."

…