Admiral Stephen Hackett was not accustomed to being given such a wide berth. Everywhere he went now, he saw expressions of respect (which, to be fair were reasonably common among his military colleagues), but he was now getting expressions of…awe. That was definitely something he was unaccustomed to receiving. He at first wondered why that was - this sudden change in others' demeanors around him. After all, he was just a military man, Alliance Navy through and through, until he realized that he had also overseen the greatest victory in galactic history. So his bemusement became a quiet, if subdued, acknowledgment of what these people must feel. They saw him as a hero. A legend.
Codswallop, as far as he was concerned.
He wasn't a hero. He only oversaw a plan - a very risky one, he was loathe to admit. It was a plan that had been executed by everyone under his command. It was executed by his colleagues, the leaders of other fleets that had deferred to his authority when it was not their custom. This was especially true for races like the asari or especially the turians - races that had always held more sway and authority over galactic events, and for far longer than humanity had. Even other races, like the volus or the quarians - who possessed the mightiest and most numerous fleet in the galaxy - had deferred to his judgment. He was so thankful every day that their deference had not been misplaced.
It still boggled his mind. A capable military man? Sure. Hero?
Not in his mind.
That honor belonged to the men and women that had followed the orders, pulled the triggers, aimed the cannons, and had done the dirty work. The men and women who had died in order to ensure that galactic life would continue long after the Reapers were nothing but a nightmarish memory. As far as he was concerned, there was one man in particular that had done the dirtiest work, who had shouldered the biggest burdens, and had made everything that Hackett had overseen possible in the first place. If he had wavered or faltered, he had never shown it publicly. And if Hackett had to point a finger at a single individual to shoulder the spoils of victory, it would be the same man that had shouldered the heaviest of burdens. And Hackett knew that, in turn, Shepard would point his finger at his gallant crew (and perhaps one crew member in particular, he would often muse).
"Commander Shepard, Admiral Zorah. Good afternoon, may I enter?"
He had knocked lightly on the open door, not wanting to scare the bejesus out of the two of them. He was pleased to see that the pair only looked up at the source of the sound, no hint of surprise readily evident.
Once recognition wormed its way into the minds of Tali and Shepard, their movements were quick and…sort of precise. Tali immediately stood at something approaching attention, with her hands clasped behind her back. Shepard swung his legs around in an attempt to get out of the bed, and forgetting that there had been a tray laying there, managed to fling it across the room along with the (thankfully) empty tube of nutrient paste that had constituted Tali's lunch. It clanged loudly as it smacked against the far wall, just under the window, narrowly missing the swiftly ducking Tali. Mortified, he froze with his eyes wide and his face turning an incredible shade of red. Two sets of eyes - one glowing under her mask - trained on him. Tali recovered her posture and composure, and groaned two words before she could stop them.
"Keelah, Shepard…"
For a moment, there was silence. Then Hackett, of all people, let out a little throaty laugh, completely diffusing the tension.
"Well, commander, I'm glad to see that your reflexes are returning, though the execution leaves a little something to be desired."
Tali giggled, then nearly coughed, caught as she was between the humor of the situation and its seriousness.
Shepard, regaining his own composure, snapped a sharp salute to his commanding officer, which Hackett returned in kind.
"At ease, commander. This is not some formal meeting, and if anyone should be saluting, it is I to you."
Shepard felt himself blush, considering himself unworthy of such praise. He and Hackett, and quite frankly Tali, were all of the same mindset in that regard.
Hackett stepped forward, shaking Tali's hand. "Admiral Zorah, I'm pleased to see you again, though I can't say I'm surprised. How are you doing?"
The quarian admiral blushed at not only the reference to her official title, but also to his public acknowledgment of their relationship. Ancestors, she couldn't wait to just be "Tali" again; or more specifically, Tali'Shepard. It was a line of thought that had recently been on her mind more and more after their conversation about her own fears.
"I am f-fine, Admiral. Thank you for asking. And yourself?" As she spoke, she found herself regaining the confidence that John had always assured her was very much warranted.
"Tali, how many times do I have to tell you? You're the best engineer I've ever met - and you work for Adams."
She shook her head, unbelieving. "Shepard, anybody could've fixed -"
He gave her a stern look, it was the look he gave when he had to deliver a reprimand. "Tali, listen to me. If I had anyone else with me - anyone else - we'd still be wondering what was even wrong with the Mako, let alone how to fix it. And you did both, out here in the middle of nowhere."
Reluctantly she acquiesced. "If you say so, Shepard."
"I do say so, Tali. I wish you would start to believe me." He started to walk away, back toward the Mako when he turned around, still taking a few backwards steps. His hands were outstretched as he asked with a wide grin, "Besides, when have I been wrong before?"
The young pilgrim jogged to catch up to him, laughing a little. "Well, there was that one time when you tried to arm wrestle Wrex, and then that other time you tried to hack that Geth - keelah, Shepard. Geth! - and I had to stop you before it -"
He laughed again good-naturedly as she walked beside him now. "Okay, okay. The Geth thing was a terrible idea." He gave her a look that she couldn't quite place - bosh'tet humans and their facial expressions - "but I mean it, Tali. You are special, and I'm so glad you're with me," he caught himself awkwardly, "Uh, I mean, as part of the team."
She grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks. She spoke softly to him as he looked directly into her eyes. "Thank you, Shepard. For saving me. For bringing me along. For your…friendship. It means every-…it means a lot to me. And just…thank you." He looked away in…embarrassment? She wasn't sure yet. But she squeezed his hand before letting it go and jogging the rest of the way to the Mako by the rhythm of her fluttering heart.
The memory flashed through her mind before Hackett had even responded.
"I am faring better than I deserve, thank you." He turned his attention to Shepard, who had managed to limp his way to the other side of the room, collecting the offending tray before placing it safely on the side table.
"And you, commander?" Once again, he extended his hand, to which Shepard delivered a strong handshake.
He gave him the now-familiar refrain. "Getting better every day, sir. Thank you."
"Excellent." The admiral removed his cap, placing it at the end of the bed.
"So, what brings you by, sir?"
The older man cleared his throat. "Well, I'm here to offer you something, Shepard. For this, you may wish to sit down. You too, Miss Zorah."
John and Tali exchanged worried, albeit curious, looks, but did as they were told: Tali in her chair, Shepard at the edge of the bed.
Seeing this, Hackett sought to reassure them. "I'm not here to deliver bad news. Quite the contrary." He was relieved to see them relax at his reassurances. "Commander Shepard, I'm here to offer to you a promotion to the rank of Admiral in the Alliance Navy."
Shepard did not react - only blinking in the few seconds immediately after.
For Tali…she felt that her world would implode around her all over again. Just as they had figured out their future together, with John retiring, here came Admiral Hackett to throw freezing water on those dreams. She felt her chest tighten, and she was thankful to be sitting because surely her legs would have collapsed under the weight of…everything.
What brought Shepard out of his shock was the very real concern he felt for Tali'Zorah. His brow furrowed in empathy, as he could sense her discomfort and how frightened she had become. Without realizing it, he grasped her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.
He felt her relax, and he returned his gaze to Hackett.
"That's, um…wow, sir. I'm honored. But, may I ask why?"
Hackett, having watched the scene that had played out before him, gave no indication of the change of course that this conversation was about to take.
"Well, quite frankly, the brass feels like you more than deserve it. But…" he looked away for a moment before returning his eyes to the commander, "since I'm the one with the ultimate authority in this matter, I get to make the call that I'm about to make." He reached down for his cap, holding it solemnly at his waist. "Commander, I'm offering to you a promotion to the rank of Admiral, with all the rights and privileges thereto, but on the condition - and this is the only one - that you retire from the Navy of the Systems Alliance, effective immediately."
The non-response that he received was precisely what he had expected. A small smile touched his lips. "Commander, the only reason that I am here today - hell, that anyone of us is here - is down largely to the efforts of yourself, Miss Zorah here, and the rest of the brave crew of the Normandy. Commander, it is in my estimation that you have sacrificed enough for the good of not only humanity, but for the whole of the galaxy. I would be doing you a disservice to ask you to sacrifice anything more."
For what felt like a long time, Shepard did not - could not - respond. It was too much, all of this. The praise, the promotion, the insistence that he retire. He felt at once overwhelmed with appreciation, but also with something akin to remorse. Remorse for the lives that he couldn't save, remorse for the planets that still burned.
Remorse for Anderson.
Remorse for Legion; for the Geth.
Remorse for EDI.
Remorse for all of Thessia.
Remorse that he had somehow survived when so many others had not.
Looking to Tali and finding her eyes, he knew that all of that didn't matter, not in this moment. Ashley would say that it was "by the grace of God" - whether or not he believed in such things was irrelevant - that he was here, alive, with Tali. He had been granted yet another chance to make a life for himself in this galaxy that had been reborn through his sacrifice.
All that mattered now was his life and the life of Tali. Their lives, with each other.
"Admiral, may I ask a question?"
"Of course, commander."
"Why, uh, the promotion? I could have just as easily retired at my current rank."
Hackett smirked, letting out a humored breath. "That is very true, commander. But a commander's pension is not nearly as robust as an admiral's is."
"Oh…that's, uh, true, admiral."
Shepard couldn't speak for a moment. This was it. This was everything that he hoped would happen. Hackett had just handed it to him on a plate. No muss, no fuss. No arguing, no agonizing over it with Tali.
Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.
God damn, what a man Hackett was.
After a deep and steadying breath, Shepard answered. "Well sir, it has been my honor to serve in the Alliance. It has helped mold me into the man that stands before you now. I…thank you for the generous offer of promotion. And under the conditions which you have set forth, I humbly accept."
He felt a squeeze of his hand, but he did not look over to her. He kept his eyes trained on the admiral, who was working his omnitool with controlled pace. After a few moments, John's own omnitool pinged to life. It was an incoming message sent from Hackett. Looking up at the admiral, he simply nodded his assent.
From the Office of Rear Admiral Stephen Hackett
Navy, Earth Systems Alliance
23rd December 2186
Commander John D. Shepard,
It is with great satisfaction that I hereby promote and bestow upon you the rank of Admiral in the Navy of Earth's Systems Alliance, with all of the rights and privileges thereto.
Commander, over the past three years, you have dedicated yourself to the sole purpose of the defeat of the Reapers. You have, on numerous occasions, gone above and beyond the call of duty in the service of Earth, humanity, and the entire galactic community. You have proven your mettle time after time, not just in combat, but through tactical and strategic awareness both on and off the field of battle. You have been a uniting force, conceding ground when needed, and holding firm when required.
Under normal circumstances for a letter such as this, a list of the promoted officer's accomplishments would appear. It is, in this admiral's humble estimation, entirely unnecessary. Your accomplishments can be seen by the simple act of looking around, and seeing a galaxy and community that still exists.
Furthermore, it is with great honor and humility that I grant with immediate effect, the honorable discharge of Admiral John D. Shepard from service to the Navy of Earth's Systems Alliance. As stated above, your accomplishments and sacrifices speak for themselves. To ask more of you would do you a disservice, a disservice which I am unwilling to make.
I would like to convey my thanks to you, for the service and dedication that you have always shown to your duties, and to those around you.
I bid you happiness in the days that follow.
Congratulations, Admiral Shepard.
With respect,
Rear Admiral Stephen Hackett
Navy, Earth Systems Alliance
John had not realized that he had been holding his breath when Tali broke the silence.
"John, may I read it?"
His head darted at the sound of her voice, breaking him from an interminable haze of non-thought. "Yes…yes of course," he said numbly as he forwarded the message to her.
He watched her intently as she read the formal letter that had been attached to his message and therefore translated into her native Khelish. The change in her stance, the deep breath followed by the sigh of relief, gave him all the indication that he needed. Hesitantly, she took a step toward the admiral. She spoke to him quietly.
"Admiral Hackett?"
He regarded her with a solemn…curiosity, as if he knew that Tali'Zorah was about to tell him something deeply emotional, but he had no idea what. He did not know her in the way that Admiral Shepard or her crewmates did.
"Yes, Miss Zorah?"
"Just…thank you, sir. Thank you for doing this for him." Her voice wavered slightly with the emotion of it all.
He gave her a solemn nod in acknowledgment. "Miss Zorah, don't mention it. The pleasure was all mine." He straightened his posture along with his uniform. "And, if you would allow me a suggestion, Miss Zorah?"
"Um…yes. Yes, of course." She stuttered with uncertainty.
"Do make sure that you two enjoy your time together, long and happy may it be."
She smiled behind her mask, nodding vigorously. "Admiral Hackett, I'll do my best to make sure that we don't let you down."
Hackett looked at her, than over to Shepard, who still looked a little shell-shocked despite the growing smile that spread across his face. "Hmm, indeed. See that you don't."
Shepard found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the brace around his left ankle. He was trying to take slow, measured breaths. Tali sat next to him, simply running her fingers down his back as he tried to process everything that had happened.
It was a simple thing really, retirement. It meant freedom, it meant time. Time enough for old wounds to heal, perhaps. Time that would allow him to love Tali in a way that she deserved, love her the way that he wanted to. It meant a life without the nagging, daily fear of danger and death looming over their heads.
How the hell do I even do that?
He wasn't sure. He thought that it might involve the existence of "hobbies" and "pursuits", but these were just vague rumors and whispers. He'd never really experienced the time for such things to manifest. It had been so long since he had existed without a threat like the Reapers or some other calamitous thing - maybe not since he was still a young man living on the streets - that he could barely remember a time like that. Would he have to research how to relax?
"Relaxation for Dummies," he chuckled lightly at the thought. An extranet search if there ever was one. Maybe Tali knows how to do it? Well, I'm sure we can figure something out. We're smart people. Besides, there's going to be a lot for us to do on Rannoch. And there's the small matter of building us a house.
Building us a life.
A small, contented smile touched his lips.
"Tali?"
"Yes, saera?"
"I love you."
"I know."
"I'm going to build us a home. On Rannoch."
"I know."
Quietly, she closed the door to their room. Walking back to the bed, she maintained eye contact as she gently pushed him onto his back. She climbed up on top of him, straddling him. Leaning in, their eyes locked. As she removed her mask, gently moving her hips against his, her warmth shot flames of desire through him.
He tried to express some semblance of rational thought.
"You know Tal, this probably isn't the place for -"
"Shhh. I know." Before she brought her mouth to his, a mischievous grin had spread across her face. When she did kiss him, she did so deeply, hungrily. Their tongues intertwined as their need for each other only grew. She pulled away for a moment, but continued to press onto him. "But I don't care," she breathed. Once again their mouths met, and this time as his hands roamed her body, she moaned into his mouth as she felt hardness press against her.
So much for "rational thought".
As far as Admiral Hackett was concerned, that had gone swimmingly. It pleased him to no end that he still possessed enough clout within the Alliance to pull that off. Not everyone had been on board with the idea of Shepard retiring at his insistence. Many had felt that he could have done a lot of good for the Alliance and the galaxy at large - a "morale boost" at the very least, they had called it. He had refused the notion outright. The man, in such a short amount of life and time, had died at least once, and rightfully should have been dead at least two other times. How in the hell could they justify asking more from a man who had already given his life? It was disrespectful, and morally bankrupt.
Stephen Hackett was neither of those things.
His thoughts turned toward the "gallant crew" of the SSV Normandy. He sighed, knowing that it was by his order, in conjunction with the interim council, that the ship and its crew were unable to be here. He had been able to make allowances regarding Shepard vis-a-vis retirement, but the Normandy was still very much needed to help rebuild. Still, there was some merit to the decision specifically regarding Shepard. Lawson had told him that rest was what he needed most, and Shepard would not have gotten that with a full complement of his crew on standby for visits. Even Miss Zorah had indicated as much to him, that Shepard was content to rest, and that he would catch up with his beloved crew when time and health permitted.
He let out a small, satisfied chuckle. "Miss Zorah", he'd called her. He wondered how long it would be until she was "Mrs. Shepard" or whatever the quarian equivalent was. There had been whispers about them among his colleagues for nearly a year, and as usual, he did not share his opinion - his thoughts on the matter were irrelevant. He had not known her personally, but had been reasonably familiar with her and her accomplishments. After all, in the three times that Shepard had effectively saved the galaxy, she had been one of only two individuals (four if you wanted to count lieutenant Moreau and doctor Chakwas, he remembered) that had been with Shepard to accomplish the impossible every time. Loyalty like that was hard to come by, and it was quite indicative of something more than friendship. So she had been just another reason that he had insisted that Shepard hang up his uniform. Everything that he had said and written regarding the decision had been true, of course, but he'd left out the detail regarding Miss Zorah. There was no need to imply that her presence had influenced his order to retire (and let's not mince words, it was an order), since he would have insisted the same had she not been a part of his life anyway. Hackett's quantitative analysis of what Shepard had done for the galactic community would have been unchanged.
To bring her up would have been superfluous to requirements.
Approaching the main hallway leading to the lobby, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hastened and erratic footfalls, complimented by hushed and hasty words spoken somewhere above a whisper but below conversation volume.
The female voice: "Why didn't you tell him?"
"Because he has enough on his mind! Besides -"
"So they have no idea where we've been? But they should 'keep calibrating'? Goddess, you're an ass."
"Listen. I was going to -"
It was at that precise moment when the owners of those voices turned the corner, and Admiral Hackett only narrowly avoided careening directly into Liara T'soni and Garrus Vakarian. Indeed, Liara had looked up just in time, managing to narrowly sidestep the admiral.
Hastily, and with no small amount of embarrassment, Liara apologized profusely.
Garrus simply acknowledged him with an overly dramatic greeting.
"Hmm. Dr. T'soni, Mr. Vakarian. I am glad to see you here. For Shepard, I presume?"
Liara answered, her normal shade of blue tinged with a flush of embarrassment. "Yes, admiral. We're here for Shepard."
Hackett looked at Liara, then at Garrus with his typical, appraising eyes. "Then I would suggest that you be, perhaps, slightly more aware of your surroundings. He is recovering from some serious injuries, you're aware." There was a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Garrus caught it, Liara did not.
"Oh yes, of course sir. I wouldn't dream of…that is, of course I'll…we'll…be careful. I wouldn't want to put -"
Garrus stopped her, putting a hand on her arm. "Liara, he gets it. Let's just go see Shepard." He pulled her gently out of the admiral's way. "Admiral Hackett, it was a pleasure to see you, as always."
He gave them another solemn nod. "Indeed, Mr. Vakarian, Dr. T'soni. Likewise." He began to walk away before stopping. "Oh, and, if I may?" They faced each other again. "I would recommend knocking first."
They both looked at him blankly, thinking they knew what he meant, but not quite believing that it was what he had meant. Uncertainly, they continued their trek to room 407.
As for the admiral? He left the hospital with a steadily growing grin on his face.