To the Elysian plain…where life is easiest for men. No snow is there, nor heavy storm, nor ever rain, but ever does Ocean send up blasts of the shrill-blowing West Wind that they may give cooling to men.

— Homer, Odyssey (4.560-565)

In Ancient Greek mythology, Elysium is a conception of the afterlife, separate from the realm of Hades. Admission was initially reserved for mortals related to the gods and other heroes. Later, it expanded to include those chosen by the gods, the righteous, and the heroic, where they would remain after death, to live a blessed and happy life.

The first time I ever heard myself referred to as a 'hero', I was standing on Elysium, exhausted, scared and alone. I survived for one reason: I thought I was going to die. Maybe that's why I dislike the label so much. I get embarrassed and awkward when I hear a news story with my name in it. I've never seen any of the dramatizations of my life. I try to avoid any monument, which shows me standing tall, leading the collective races of the galaxy to a better future. I don't like to think of myself as a hero.

In reality, Elysium is considered an 'alpine paradise' with an average temperature of 8 degrees (compared to -62, it's a tropical paradise), and a population of around 8.3 million. Founded in 2160, Elysium is humanity's oldest colony in the Skyllian Verge. The population grew fast: in 2165, only five years after its founding, it boasted a population of several million inhabitants, nearly half of them aliens. Because of the large non-human population, extra security screening procedures are required, and access to the planet is kept under strict control.

Being Alliance personnel returning from task on Sidon, we were able to avoid most of the security checks and measures upon arriving on the planet. We stayed at a renowned resort in Attica, a city with a population of around 500,000.

The aim of decompression is to provide a friendly environment that allows you time to start 'winding down' after an operational tour, prior to rejoining friends and family back home. All Alliance personnel returning from duty in the Skyllian Verge are allotted at the very least 96 hours of decompression time. It provides time to talk through your memories with friends and colleagues who have shared similar experiences to your own. It also provides an opportunity to start thinking about the challenges and issues of re-entry and living in the home environment.

I didn't have a family to go back to, and all of my friends were military. I never really required decompression, but for guys like Will, soldiers who had a family to reintegrate with when they returned, it was an invaluable resource.

While military life satisfied my constant search for excitement and an outlet for my aggression, it also gave me an appreciation for quiet. I enjoyed solitude whenever I could find it. It gave me a chance to reflect, or in some cases escape. I found listening to music was the best way to accomplish this. Even during training, on my bunk in a room with sixty other people, music could take me away.

It was morning on the fourth day of our shore leave and I was sitting at a coffee shop just down the street from our hotel when Will took the seat across from me. He was wearing cargo shorts with socks and sandals that contrasted with the relatively cool temperature outside. His 'lucky' t-shirt, frayed around the collar, the screen-printing completely faded and discoloured from being so well worn.

"I could use a drink." He said in a tired, scruffy voice that was the result of the events of the previous evening. "5 o clock on the east coast back home."

"Yeah. Happy hour." I smiled.

"A little dinner before a show." He looked around and sighed. When Will had joined the Alliance, he was a single man. Now he had a family to consider, and he was being constantly torn between the two. I suspected he was not far off from turning in his stripes.

"Should have used that medical degree, Will."

"What? And give up all this?" He laughed. "I miss London. When we get back to Earth I'll take you back there. We'll find you a girl to settle down with. Someone Laurie can talk to while we go out and get pissed at this little pub just down the way. I know the owner."

I thought about it, but settling down was never really a realistic option for me. I had found my purpose in life and I completely intended on seeing it through to the end, whatever end that was. I loved my work, and more than that I was good at it. I loved the feeling I got before heading into combat and I craved the nervous, excited knots that would tie up my stomach before leaving a shuttle.

"Sounds good." I lied and sipped my coffee.

When the dreaded siren sounded suddenly wailing through the air, screeching out its deafening high and low wailing, warning sounds, everyone including Will and I looked around at each other in confusion. Was than an air raid siren or a storm warning? An air raid on Elysium? Really?

After a couple seconds the wail was unmistakable, like something out of an old World War II vid.

In some cases, people only have fifteen seconds from the sound of the warning to the possible explosion. Fifteen seconds is not a very long time, it takes close to fifteen seconds to catch your breath and remember where the closest shelter is.

Once it clicked, Will and I sprang from our table, knocking the seats over while civilians grabbed whatever belongings they could, scooped up their children and scrambled for the nearest shelter.

While our kit was safely stored in a strong box at the hotel, our weapons were taken from us upon arrival and held at the Alliance base. A thousand different options flooded my head, not one of them included running for a shelter.

Batarian drop ships were beginning to flood the sky as the first of the explosions rang out. The sky turned that same, sickly orange it had when the bararians descended on Mindoir and set my home on fire. Elysium at least had a warning system and a plan for an attack however unlikely the prospect of one was.

The streets were emptying rapidly with civilians rushing to find cover wherever they could. The first of the drop ships were landing, and gunshots started ringing out. Alliance presence on Elysium was small and there were probably more personnel on shore leave than there were posted to the base.

Noticing the number of likely military personnel in the vicinity of the cafe, I took charge and began formulating a plan to muster the available soldiers at the nearest outpost. I was determined Elysium would not be another Mindoir.

I started shouting over the crowd and the wailing of the siren to no avail. I couldn't establish control amongst the chaos. That was until Will used his piercing whistle and screamed 'shut the fuck up' in his loudest booming voice. I've always envied the power of the non commissioned officer. The crowd silenced and I stood on a chair.

"Who here has military experience?" I yelled and hands went up. "Right! You there," I pointed to a young civilian man who appeared calmer than the rest. "Take these civilians to the nearest shelter. The rest of you, with me!"

When you're existing, life happens to you, and you manage; when you're living, you happen to life and you lead.

I had experienced this scenario before six years prior on my home planet. I had been helpless to stop the murder of my family, my friends, and the destruction of everything I had ever known. It would not happen again. Not to me. Not to these people. I now had the chance to fight back and I had all the tools the Alliance had given me.

We made for the police station a few blocks away and were armed with a variety of assault rifles, pistols and flash bang grenades upon our arrival. I split the group in two, Will leading one and myself with another. Will and I linked into a short range comm system so we could speak to each other and established contact with the small Alliance ground teams that had already deployed. The thought of Jan, Luis and even Rob popped into my head. But Will assured me they were 'big and ugly enough to take care of themselves'.

While a massive battle raged overhead, drop ships were still landing and batarian mercenaries were flooding into the city. A quick discussion with the ranking police officer at the station revealed the batarians were focusing their energy on the minimally defended Alliance base and it would only be a matter of time before they broke through.

We were still in the city, and a small residential area that we would surely have to pass through separated us from the base. We had to get there before batarian forces broke through and gained access to the Alliances AAA guns, missile capabilities, and air-space-coordination. With access to the base, the invading batarian forces could easily take control of the skies.

We fought our way through small pockets of resistance as we moved through the streets and up to the residential area called 'Garden Estates.' It was engulfed in flames and drenched in chaos. Trees were blown apart and tall beautiful homes full of bullet holes stood still while the flames clawed at their sides. I closed my eyes for a second and when I opened them again, I could have sworn I was standing back on Mindoir. Only this time I wasn't afraid; I was angry but driven and very focused. I had been trained for this.

For some of the seventeen men and women following Will and I through the streets, the experience of killing was something new to them. But training would prevail. I firmly believe that you do not rise to the occasion in combat; you sink to the level of your training.

Whatever you train to do comes out the other end. Self-preservation can become secondary to training. Any natural or learned resistance to killing, any sense of the sanctity of life, any human emotions, any remorse or compassion at the moment of truth, can all be overcome and overwhelmed with training. I saw this in action that day on Elysium. Soldiers from all trades, air-crew, clerks, nurses, marines, intel ops, they were all soldiers first and they were all trained to kill.

When a machine gun nest at a roadblock suddenly pinned us down, Will came up beside me and pulled out his datapad, brining up the map.

"Any ideas, mate?"

I glanced at the map, did a quick appreciation, and came up with my plan.

"Put down some covering fire with your team, I'll take mine through that alley and make the last push to the base."

"Thought you were going to say that." He laughed. "You sure you're up for the task?"

I smiled. "You sure you're up for yours?"

"I got the easy one." His expression suddenly became very serious. "Fuckin stay on the comm and keep us updated. We'll be ready to disengage and back you up if necessary. "

He stuck out his hand and I shook it firmly, my expression matching his. We both knew what was at stake.

"Conserve your ammo and…take care of yourself." Will was my best friend. I wasn't sure if I was going to see him again. If I was going to see anyone again.

"Don't get sentimental on me now, Shepard. Just get your ass to that base, buy me a beer when it's all over."

I forced a smile and called for my team. Will ordered heavy suppressing fire on the machine gun nest as we sprinted to the alley. A young engineer named Cory was hit in the leg, and I left the nurse in my team behind to tend to him. They were covered from fire, but now I only had a squad of six to reinforce an entire Alliance base. I hoped I could pick some more people up along the way.

When we emerged from the alley we had a clear view of the main access to the base. A platoon of mercenaries had swarmed them, and the four soldiers stationed at the outpost had managed to take most of them out.

A firefight ensued as we stormed the outpost and took out the last of the mercenary platoon. My six team members were mostly out of ammo, and the four soldiers that had been defending the outpost were badly injured and needed medical attention immediately.

I caught my breath and looked around at the destruction before me. I knew another wave of batarians would be coming for this outpost at any moment, so I made the call.

I had my six evenly distribute their ammo, and take the four injured soldiers towards the inner safety of the base. They all looked at me like I was crazy, and initially refused to leave me there alone. As ranking officer I simply made their departure an order.

I do not believe that I am made of the stuff which constitutes heroes because in all of the hundreds of instances that my voluntary acts have placed me face to face with death, I cannot recall a single one where any alternative step to that I took occurred to me until many hours later.

I gathered whatever ammo I could and made my way up to the observation tower and mounted the heavy machine gun on its tripod and waited.

"Will, this is Shepard."

"What is it Shepard, I'm a little busy." I could hear gunfire in the background.

"I've reached the front gate outpost. I sent my team with four times casualties towards the base. Do not come through this way. I say again, do not come through this way."

"If you think I'm going to stay here and let you get all the medals, you've got another thing coming."

I laughed to myself as I took the grenades out of their boxes and lined them neatly beside me. "You stay there and get whatever civies you can to safety, Will. That's an order."

There was a long pause before he replied. "Aye aye, Sir."

The true soldier fights not because they hate what is in front of them, but because they love what is behind them. I was almost certain I was going to die in that tower. But before I did, I would take as many batarians with me.

I took a few seconds to steady my breathing and gather my thoughts, and become calm. Ultimately, I thought, we're all dead men. Sadly, we cannot choose how, but we can decide how we meet that end so that we are remembered for what we truly are. My mother always said that "you could accomplish anything if you only put my mind to it". Not true. First you have to know, not fear, know that someday you're going to have to die. Then, and only then, can you accomplish anything.

The sky was filled bullets and the telltale contrails of rocket-propelled grenade fire, as seemingly out of nowhere somewhere between forty and fifty batarians launched an aggressive attempt to destroy me. Gunfire was flying in from every direction, rock and smoke was getting kicked up on every square inch of the ground, and my heart almost stopped as rocket fire blew giant chunks out of the tower I was laying in. I never took my eyes out of my sights.

I blew through all nine hundred rounds of ammunition for the machine gun – every single bullet in the rooftop bunker – in the span of just a few minutes. When the supply of large-caliber heavy weapons ammunition ran out, I ditched the MG and started grabbing grenades, two at a time, throwing them in every direction.

Seventeen high explosive fragmentation grenades cratered the landscape around me, and filled my enemies with pieces of hot, sharp metal fragments. With my machine gun and grenade supply depleted, I kicked over the ammo boxes, grabbed my standard issue police assault rifle and continued aiming and firing at the advancing batarians. And when that ammunition ran out after a minute, and the last batarian who was either insane or one of the bravest warriors in the Hegemony ascended the tower to kill me, I beat him to death with the tripod of my MG.

I had accepted death completely, and I was determined to take as many of my attackers with me. I enjoyed the feeling I got when the batarian in my sights went down from my bullets.

A bizarre set of perceptual distortions can occur in combat that alters the way the warrior views the world and perceives reality. It can truly be an altered state of consciousness, similar to what occurs in a drug-induced state. Shakespeare sums it up nicely as "In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire."

I heard the 'clack clack' sound of my weapon cycling as the slide moved forward and backward, ejecting spent casings and delivering fresh rounds into the breach, but not the deafening noise of the chaos around me.

When the field fell silent and still, I couldn't believe I was still standing.

"Shepard?" A faint voice came from the other end of the comm.

"Will, that you?"

"Good to hear your voice, mate."

Something was wrong. "Send sitrep. What's your status."

"We've shut down that MG nest and the boys are clearing out the houses, and securing the civies." He replied. "I'm hit, Shep."

The way he said it gave me all the information I needed. He was hurt bad, and he knew it.

"I think I'm fading."

I didn't know what to say. "Just hold on."

"Nah." He said matter of factly, "You make sure you tell Laurie I love her, and to take the insurance money and have fun. And Russ…tell him I'm sorry too."

I sat down against the blown out ledge of the tower and brought my hand to my forehead. I suddenly wanted that trip to London with him, to find a wife, and live in peace. "Yeah."

"I'll see you on…on the other side, mate."

The truth is that the heroism of your childhood entertainments was not true valour. It was theatre. The grand gesture, the moment of choice, the mortal danger, the external foe, the climactic battle whose outcome resolves all - all designed to appear heroic, to excite and gratify and audience. Welcome to the world of reality - there is no audience. No one to applaud, to admire. no one to see you. Actual heroism receives no ovation, entertains no one. No one queues up to see it. No one is interested.

Will was my hero.

When the battle was over, reinforcements had arrived, and the smoke had finally cleared, the base commander quietly walked up to me, slowly looked me over, patted me once on the back and simply asked "You OK?"

I nodded, dazed but unhurt. The base commander nodded once and walked away without a word.

Long before that moment I yearned to be a hero without knowing, in truth, what a hero was. Now, perhaps, I understand it a little better. Everyone is a hero if they strive more for others than for themselves alone.

Liara once told me that the seeking counts more than the finding. So, too, must the striving count more than the gain.

I was awarded the Star of Terra. Jan and Luis had been killed when the hotel collapsed, and Will had died from his injuries.

I attended the memorial on Elysium for those who had paid the ultimate price, and stayed with Will's body as it was transported to Australia for burial. Laurie was stoic and composed as any military wife, but her eyes were bright with anger and sorrow when I handed her Will's tags.

I simply vowed to do better.

When the Anhur Rebellions broke out, I got my chance.