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Moiety
Chapter Forty Three: Many Light Years Past
"Skipper,
May you always find a use for that iron heart of yours. 'To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.'"
Shepard holds the book open with a tender hand braced along the spine, the inscription faintly legible in the dim light of her cabin. Her fingers trace the words reverently.
"Lord knows this galaxy could use a little more of that. A little more of you."
Shepard's throat tightens reflexively.
"Do us proud,
A. Williams."
She slides the book closed with a tear-laden sigh. There are many choices still ahead, and Virmire is many light years past.