That night, on that world, there they were.

One of them was a man, who someone might have called an old man, forgetful or just unknowing of how gross of an understatement that would be. The man was old, older by far than some nations. Some days he woke up and couldn't quite remember how many of far mother Earth's years had passed since he'd been born; not because he'd gone senile, but because a digit here or there swapped itself in his mind.

The man who would come out every night to stare up at the alien sky had a name, and names. A name he'd been given at birth and many more he'd carried over the years. Everywhere he went he seemed to come up with a new thing to call himself, or to be called by the people of the new place he was in; names as numerous as the shimmering stars his beloved sky. Just like each of those stars, he could be called a dozen different things by the people he lived on all the many worlds that could look upon its ancient glory, but no matter where he was, the people there would be seeing the same light.

He'd taken one name when he left his birth world to plough the stars. One name when he'd taken a wife, and one when he'd taken another. Titles he'd earned or made up on adventures. People on this planet or that sometimes gave him names, but he usually stuck with his own. But here, on this cold world, he found a comfortable name from the people he'd found living there: Stargazer.

Ulysses was with him tonight. The son of a son of a daughter of his, though there were probably more degrees of separation than that. A child who could still count his age on his hands next to a man of eons. In his life, Stargazer had gotten to meet many generations of his own descendants, but few were as alike to him as Ulysses. In an age of the impossible, few of his kin had such a love for stars and stories.

He had many to tell. Stargazer's own life could fill volumes, but only a few of the tales that he told to Ulysses were his own. He'd already spun his most exciting and significant yarns to the boy, so he most often fell back on the legends and myths of old. The most famous fairy tales from Earth, Thessia, Parnack, and other storied worlds. And with a galaxy so large, a good many were based in truth.

The chronicles of Shepard were the greatest of all. Stargazer had just finished telling Ulysses the greatest leg of the saga. The night was dark and snow filled the air, the boy and he were surrounded by the light of a neighboring world so close he sometimes thought he could touch it.

Ulysses nudged closer. "Did that all really happen?"

All of it? Not a prayer, thought the Stargazer. No amount of fact could eliminate every nugget of untruth from a story. Even the most told, researched, and retold story of all time. Stargazer personally felt that most of the parts that took place on Tuchanka were embellished, as very little record survived Shepard's missions there before, during or after the war, but that may have been his own biases talking. For all he knew, Shepard had never even traversed the Omega-4 Relay, or battled androids on Mars, or battled for the fate of the galaxy on the Citadel over Earth, not once but twice.

"Yes, but some of the details have been lost in time," he answered. "It all happened so long ago."

"When can I go to the stars?"

Stargazer smirked. Ulysses flit from idea to idea like a sparrow. Another child might have shyly asked if they could ever live the adventures Shepard and his crew had lived, before then broaching the more realistic topic of space travel. Not Ulysses. He was ready to live those adventures. All he needed was a ride.

"One day, my sweet." He ran his fingers through the boys hair, soft and cold like the snow.

"What will we find there," Ulysses asked.

"Anything you can imagine. Our galaxy has billions of stars." Stargazer pointed at no one of them in particular. He'd lived for eons, and likely would a few more, but the rigors of biological age still made it difficult to raise his arm for more than a moment. "Each of them could have many worlds. Every world could be home to a different form of life. And every life has a special story of its own."

For a moment, Ulysses, Stargazer, and the entire world around them were silent. Uncountable stars were filling Ulysses' head. Stargazer could almost feel the ideas bursting like so many supernovas as he rustled his grandchild's hair once again.

After about five minutes of silence, Ulysses spoke again. "Tell me another story about the Shepard."

The Shepard. One man had distinguished himself above all other humans, all other beings, in the span of one of the meager lifetimes humans once lived so long ago. In the modern day, human identities were as fluid as water. Stargazer was a name bestowed by people who knew the man very well, but there had to have been a billion other "Stargazers" out there.

There was only one Shepard. There would only ever be.

Stargazer's heart thumped in his chest. Before, the cold of the alien world had begun to nip at his fingers and toes as it worked its way into him. He'd been able to ignore it while in the throes of Shepard's tale, but the boy's enthusiasm reinvigorated him. His old eyelids had begun to droop as well, but they opened wide as he looked back down at the child's round face. Ulysses wouldn't sleep until he'd heard the rest. Most likely, neither would Stargazer now that the details were piling back in.

"It's getting late, but…okay…one more story." He looked once again at Ulysses. His face hardened, the stern mask dozens of children knew as the one grandpa put on when you needed to hear something serious. "I will warn you, boy. This story is different than the other one. If I stop now, you'll go to bed with the happy ending. The one all of your friends at school know. Shepard defeats the Reapers. The galaxy is saved, and his crew returns home. That's the end I could leave you with now."

Ulysses locked eyes with him, and for a moment they were both staring into the stars again. Then Ulysses looked away, big thoughts in his little head. Stargazer continued.

"It's as grand a story as the last, but it's not of the same cloth. The triumphs of our heroes don't come after the trumpets of battle, where they are surrounded by friends and allies. In this story, the gasp for breath and choke on the ashes of the war that they won. The heroes of this story may enter into it as its villains, commit horrible deeds in the name of survival, but then return. It's a story of starvation, desperation, and fear. Not the type of story that makes it into your films and sims. This story is nothing like the world you know, boy."

"Tell me," said Ulysses.

He did.

Hello there. If you made it this far, that means you've read through my little rambling prologue that I hope turns into something bigger. Thanks for that! I've had the ideas for a post-ME3 story rattling around in my head for a while now and I finally found the will to actually put it out there.

I don't have much to say at the moment, and I hope to be able to keep author notes to a minimum, but thanks for reading. And thanks to Bioware for the universe (and ME3 epilogue dialogue) that I'm borrowing. I'll try to put it to good use.

That's it for now. Hope to be back soon.

(GL)