The Cost of Survival: Chapter 1

Shepard didn't have a lot of time. Red emergency lights flooded every inch of the Normandy. The evacuation signal blared, leaving a slightly dizzying feeling in his head. It was coming down – all of it. Shepard had to make sure everyone on the ship got out alive. He initiated the evacuation protocols. Metal shutters opened up from inside the Normandy, revealing the escape pods they concealed. Explosions sounded from behind him, but he refused to lose his footing. Shepard braced himself with each tremor as he programmed the distress beacon.

The Normandy Virtual Intelligence's voice died, no longer announcing the emergency evacuation. Still, it was functional enough to provide a live accounting of the ship's damage and current status. The interior was beginning to depressurize. The fires were eating away whatever oxygen that remained. Shepard put on his helmet and activated the hard-sealing of his Onyx gear. The piercing noise of the evacuation signals and the explosions began to die down, muffled from beyond the helmet.

"Shepard!" a voice called from behind. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Ash. She needed to get out. For his sake.

"Distress beacon is ready for launch," he said, his voice slightly distorted by the audio emulators of the breathing mask.

"Will the Alliance get here in time?" asked Ashley. The tremors of another explosion took her off of her feet. Shepard managed to catch her as she stumbled. The holo-screen behind him that displayed telemetry data of the ship's damage died. The ship's VI was completely nonfunctional. He had to set up the distress beacon launch protocols manually.

"The Alliance won't abandon us," he answered, grabbing a fire extinguisher and tossing it Ashley's way. Shepard began reconnecting broken cables and wires. "We just need to hold on. Get everyone onto the escape shuttles."

"Joker's still in the cockpit. He won't abandon ship." she replied as she extinguished the flames interfering with the console. "I'm not leaving either."

Shepard paused. He didn't have the time to argue. Against Ashley, he doubted any amount of arguing would do any good anyway. "I need you to get the crew onto the evac shuttles," he pleaded. "I'll take care of Joker."

"Commander…"

"Ashley. Go." He turned to her, thankful his helmet hid the pain on his face. "Now."

Everything stopped. "Aye aye," she said.

As he finished the preparations for the distress beacon launch, Shepard had to wonder if those would be the last words he ever heard from her. Still, he refused to look back, to watch her walk away. The holo-interface fabricated the typical big red emergency button. Shepard quickly pressed his hand to it, and listened as the ship announced the distress beacon launch with a sharp blare.

As soon as the console indicated the successful launch of both escape shuttles and the distress beacon, Shepard turned his attention toward saving Joker. Another explosion knocked him off balance as he turned around, but Shepard had to press forward.

"Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is SSV Normandy."

Joker must have been broadcasting on all available channels, most likely as a desperate cry for help from any ship nearby. Damn, Shepard thought. He's still trying to save the ship. There was no saving the Normandy. It was only a matter of time before he and Joker were both dead.

"We've suffered heavy damage from an unknown enemy."

Shepard passed the mess hall, climbed the stairs, and stopped. The door panel warned him that the CIC was exposed to space and that mass effect fields were down. Joker was begging the Normandy to hold together. Shepard activated his suit's magnetic boots and stepped through. He could almost feel the atmosphere of the lower decks sucked out into space from behind.

There was something serene about the vacuum of space, the beauty of Alchera's snowy white surface illuminating what was left of the CIC. The sound of explosions and fire and emergency sirens were all gone. He could only hear his own breath as was reflected by the auditory emulators of his helmet. The experience was awe-inspiring and haunting, and if he were to die at least he saw something so beautiful in his last moments.

It took no more than a gentle push to move the dislodged chairs obstructing his path to the cockpit. He could see the faint "wall" of the emergency mass effect field that kept Joker in his seat and not spaced. As Shepard entered the field and felt gravity restored around him, he wasted no time and rushed to Joker's side.

"Come on, Joker!" he shouted, "We have to get out of here!"

Joker's gaze was completely focused on the control panels. "No!" he cried. "I won't abandon the Normandy! I can still save her!"

Every functioning monitor on the ship said otherwise. Shepard took a breath, holding on to whatever exercise he could to keep his calm and appeal to Joker. Softly, he said, "The Normandy's lost. Going down with the ship won't change that."

Shepard could see in Joker's eyes that the helmsman was still fighting, but the pilot's stubbornness eventually relented with a conceding nod. "Yeah… okay. Help me up."

As Shepard leaned forward to help Joker, a weak tone sounded from one still-working LADAR scanner. Joker's hands were once more on the console as Shepard turned to check the scanner behind them.

"They're coming around for another attack!" Joker shouted.

Immediately the yellow flash of the unknown assailants' beam ripped through the Normandy's hull, dealing further damage to the once pristine CIC. Shepard ran forward to quickly assess the extent of the damage and knew there was no more time to spare. He hurried back to Joker's side and grabbed hold of his shipmate's arm, yanking the helmsman out of his chair and onto his feet, Vrolik's Syndrome be damned. Broken shin bones could heal. Spaced bodies won't.

As Shepard tugged Joker across the bridge, ignoring the agonizing grunts of the pilot, the last evacuation shuttle opened up for them. He carefully helped Joker into a seat and was about to secure himself in one as well when another series of explosions rang throughout the ship. The concussive force threw him back, and everything around him started to fade into darkness.

The last thing he heard was the faint cry of Joker calling his name.

"Shepard!"

Shepard jerked upwards, his body cold and covered in sweat. It's been three weeks and still the nightmares won't stop. Heart racing, breathing rapidly. He reached to the nightstand on his left and picked up the glass of water that stood there. He could feel the cold liquid rush down his throat, and he let out a relieved sigh when it was all gone.

He felt the dog tags around his neck. Greg Shepard, he thought. Lieutenant Commander for the Alliance Navy. Spectre for the Citadel Council.

His thoughts were interrupted by a faint beep from the nightstand. "Good morning," greeted a monotonous and artificial voice. "The current time is 4:58 Galactic Standard. You have 2 new voice messages."

Shepard reached over to the machine resting atop the nightstand and pressed a button, dismissing the VI. Sitting there in the artificial darkness, a single moment felt as long as a year. He took another deep breath and held his hand over the dog tags around his neck. Again, he pressed the button on the VI console, and told the VI to play the messages for him.

"Honey… " Shepard recognized the voice as his mother's. "I know you've only just gotten back. I know that… things can't be easy for you right now. Please talk to me when you can. You're strong, and you've faced horrible dangers more times than I can bear to imagine, but that won't stop me from worrying about what you must be going through right now. Call me back."

Shepard felt as though the entire world was on pause. There was a weight in his chest he couldn't shake off. What am I supposed to say? Shepard asked himself. That I'm alright? Damn it…

The second message began playing. "Shepard," the deep, familiar voice began, "Anderson here. Given the… outcome of your last mission, the Council wanted me to let you know that they are to be present when the Alliance debriefs you and Chief Williams. Be at the human embassy at 0900."

He turned to his left, where Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams lay sleeping next to him. It was still too early to get anything done. Shepard laid his head back into the pillow and shut his eyes, trying again to fall asleep.

Scars of Sovereign's invasion were still present all along the Presidium. This was his first time seeing it since the Battle of the Citadel, and repair crews were always in sight no matter where he turned. Keepers have never been more active. They were not running from place to place, but seeing tens of the mysterious biomechanical drones in constant movement was still quite unexpected.

Much of the Presidium was closed off, but Ashley mentioned that the Wards had it worse. The only real damage to the Presidium was to the Tower and the Council Chambers, but the Wards were devastated. Still, to get the Citadel government operational again, the Presidium had to be the priority for reconstruction.

Shepard and Ashley arrived before the human embassy a few minutes early, but Anderson was already waiting for them. Accompanying him were Admiral Steven Hackett and Ambassador Donnel Udina. After the customary salutes were exchanged, Anderson approached Shepard.

"So how have you been feeling lately, Commander?" he asked.

"C-Sec Academy's housing isn't so bad," Shepard admitted with a slight smile. "Bed's a little too soft."

Anderson grinned. "I know what you mean."

"Come," Udina interrupted curtly, gesturing Anderson and Shepard toward the stairs up the embassy. "The Council will be meeting us in my office shortly."

It didn't take long for the Council to arrive. Sparatus, Tevos, Valern – representatives of their respective governments, the leading forces of the galaxy. Udina stepped forward to welcome them.

"Councilors," he began. "Thank you for meeting us here… Though, I regret that the Tower is still in no condition to use."

"This is technically an Alliance matter," answered Tevos. "It seemed fit to have it addressed in the human embassy. We are here on behalf of the commander, who is, of course, one of our agents."

"That being said," interjected Sparatus, "let us not waste any time."

Admiral Hackett responded with a nod and turned to Shepard. "Commander, Chief, I suppose you should begin by telling us what happened."

Shepard exchanged a glance with Ashley before speaking up. "Three weeks ago, the SSV Normandy was sent out to the Omega Nebula to investigate reports of missing ships in the Terminus Systems, and ascertaining if they had any relation to the war on the geth." There was a lump in his throat he fought to swallow. "We searched the sector for four days with no signs of geth activity. During our sweep of the Amada System, the ship was attacked and destroyed by an unknown enemy." Shepard paused. "I did what I could to save as much of the crew as possible, but… 20 people were unable to make it."

The room was silent, and the atmosphere weighed down on Shepard. Hackett broke the silence with a question.

"Were you able to identify who or what attacked you?" he asked. Shepard and Ashley responded in the negative. Hackett closed his eyes, letting out a low, thoughtful hum. "Very well. The Alliance will continue to investigate this matter. The loss of the Normandy and the men and women who perished onboard is regrettable, but you did a hell of a thing getting as many as you did out alive, Commander. You and Chief Williams are dismissed."

"Wait," interrupted Valern. His salarian eyes glanced toward Shepard, and then focused on Hackett, Anderson, and Udina. "There is still one more issue we need to address."

"Admiral Hackett, Ambassador Udina, Captain Anderson. The Alliance sent one of our Spectres into the Terminus Systems without Council permission," Tevos stated. "This assignment nearly cost the life of that agent."

"Now, hold on a minute," Anderson started. "Shepard may be a Council Spectre, but he is still Alliance. It was well within the rights of Alliance Command to send him on that mission."

"Then the Alliance was being reckless and shortsighted," admonished Sparatus. "As a Spectre, Shepard's duty is first to the Citadel. The Terminus Systems are hostile enough to Council Space as it is, and they know the Citadel Fleets have been crippled by Saren's attack. Any one of the major forces in the Terminus Systems could have used this mission as an excuse to start another galactic war."

"What are you-," Shepard started, but he was stopped by the asari councilor.

"Shepard, we understand that you are loyal to the Alliance," said Tevos. "However, as a Spectre, you must place the safety and stability of the galaxy above even your own people."

"Politics aside, the geth are still a galactic menace," Hackett interrupted. "And the unknown vessel warrants investigation. The Citadel is still at war with the geth. The Alliance suffered the least amount of damage from Sovereign's attack, and so it is our responsibility to see this war to its end. That means using every soldier we have, especially our most capable ones."

Udina cleared his throat, catching the attention of everyone in the room. "If I may," he began, "I believe I have a suggestion to put this matter to rest. The Alliance will see to it that the geth cease to be any threat to the Citadel, and Shepard will remain on the station as a liaison between Alliance Command and the Council."

"Hm," Valern considered, rubbing his chin. "Shepard can still be of help to the Alliance, but will remain first and foremost a Citadel agent. An interesting solution that benefits both sides."

"Wait, you can't just ground me like that!" protested Shepard.

"Shepard is right," Ashley agreed. "This isn't fair! After everything he's done for you – for all of you!"

"Enough, you two!" ordered Anderson. He came to Shepard and Ashley's side and spoke in a low and solemn voice, "Don't you think I understand what it's like to be sidelined?"

"Captain…" Ashley started, but Anderson only shook his head. Shepard looked the captain straight in his eyes. He knew exactly how Anderson felt now. Frustrated, helpless.

"I'm sorry," Anderson admitted, placing his hand on Shepard's shoulder. "Shepard, I know this isn't fair. I don't want to have to do this to you, but the Council has to be on our side. Think about the Reapers. We can't afford to have the galaxy split up over petty politics when they come. The Alliance needs this to work."

Shepard sighed. "I trust you, Captain. If this is what we need, I'll do it." He stepped forward and looked to the Council. "I accept these terms. I can step down from my position in the Alliance Navy so long as it keeps the peace."

Tevos, Sparatus, and Valern exchanged approving looks among themselves before Tevos gave Shepard a slight nod. "We, too, find these terms agreeable. It will take some time for all of this to be made official, but in the meantime we will provide Shepard with what we can – living quarters, training facilities, anything within reason that the Spectre requires." She turned to Udina. "Thank you for allowing our presence, Ambassador. Be sure to contact us when the Alliance Parliament can provide a shortlist of candidates for the Council seat."

Shepard watched as the Council left the office. He glanced from person to person, trying to get a sense of what they were feeling. Anderson was sympathetic and regretful, barely able to look Shepard in the eye and still unable to turn away from him. Ashley was frustrated, seething, muttering something unflattering about politicians under her breath. Hackett was difficult to read; stoic, unyielding, holding something back. The admiral made direct eye-contact with Shepard and gave a solemn nod. Unsurprisingly, Udina looked quite satisfied with himself.

The commander folded his arms and thought about what just happened. He didn't know how to react or how to feel about all of this. Was this really best for humanity? Is this truly what he's meant to be doing?

Facing Saren was a blur – nothing but one mission after another, chasing a rogue Spectre to the ends of the Traverse. Now it's over. And he knows the Reapers will come, but he doesn't know how or when, and he has no clue as to how he can fight them when they do inevitably arrive.

So… he thought to himself, looking over the Presidium's lake. What now?

Miranda Lawson watched the star carefully. It was a mass of explosive power. Flares uncontrollably burst from its surface. It glowed red – ferocious, hot, and powerful, but was surrounded by a calming and peaceful blue. As its hot gasses collided and ripped each other apart just to demand awe from on-lookers, she started to get an idea as to why the Illusive Man chose this view.

"Shepard did everything right," she said, processing everything the Illusive Man had just told her about the first human Spectre. "More than we could've hoped for. Saving the Citadel – even saving the Council. Humanity has the trust of the entire galaxy…" Miranda turned to him. "…and still it's not enough."

He was cold, collected, and completely unreadable, but underneath all of that was something powerful and dangerous. Miranda saw that. "Our sacrifices have earned the Council's gratitude," he said, flicking the ashes from his cigarette, "but Shepard remains our best hope."

"And yet he's confined to the Citadel while the Alliance is preoccupied with the geth." Miranda turned to fully face the Illusive Man and walked to him. An assistant stood behind him with a holopad – most likely financial reports of Cerberus' various business fronts and shell corporations, judging from the Illusive Man's indifferent response to it. Money was never his endgame. It was just another means to an end. "Geth," she repeated. "We both know they're not the real threat. The Reapers are still out there."

The Illusive Man took another drag of the cigarette. "And it's up to us to stop them," he replied before exhaling his smoke.

"The Council will never trust Cerberus," Miranda said, crossing her arms. "They'll never accept our help. Even after everything humanity has accomplished." She turned away, considering what it would take for the Council to commit with Cerberus against the Reapers. Her footsteps echoed softly in the Illusive Man's control room, his dark inner sanctum. "But Shepard…they'll follow him," she thought aloud. "He's a hero, a bloody icon.

"But he's just one man," she concluded. "If we lose Shepard, humanity might well follow."

The Illusive Man put his cigarette out, looked to Miranda with his almost alien blue eyes and ordered, "Then see to it that we don't lose him." He began tapping at a holographic interface on the armrest of his chair, pulling up several holoscreens of now-defunct Cerberus operations in the Attican Traverse. "Thanks to his work in the Traverse, several Cerberus operations have been exposed. Sigma-23, Chasca, our research facilities and operations bases in the Voyager Cluster… I have no doubts about his current opinion on this organization."

"I'll change it," Miranda vowed.

"Remember; you don't need to convince him to join us," the Illusive Man stated. "He just needs to know that Cerberus has humanity's best interests at heart." He began closing the holoscreens of the dead Cerberus projects. "And when the Reapers strike, we will do everything in our power to protect humanity." As the final holoscreen closed, he added, "No matter the cost."

"Understood, sir," she answered as an assistant arrived to lead her out of the station.