Harbinger had never known what emotion was. It was created for one purpose - to maintain balance in the galaxy through cycles of destruction and rebirth. But now, wandering the dark void of space beyond the galaxy, it felt something new. It was disappointment.
A plan that was millions of years old had been thwarted. Sovereign, its greatest warrior, had failed to complete its mission. An attempt to manually activate the Citadel had failed. A man named John Shepard had destroyed Sovereign and deprived the Reapers of the opportunity to return to the galaxy at the right moment. Sovereign's defeat had given Harbinger his last memories. He studied them carefully, every detail, and for a brief moment he felt anger. But anger is a useless emotion for someone who must think rationally. He quickly calmed down.
The galaxy continued to exist. Wars, life, development - all this continued, and the Reapers remained in the shadows, beyond the stars, hidden in the grim darkness. But now everything has changed.
Sensors on the mass relays scattered across the galaxy began to register anomalies. Element zero, the basis of interstellar travel, was no longer behaving predictably. There were oscillations in its structure that the Harbinger had not seen in millions of years.
He knew what this meant. They were returning.
Element zero had unique properties that allowed the manipulation of mass and space, but now its energy was distorted. These distortions indicated that old enemies, enemies that the Reapers had defeated once before, were gaining strength again. The Chaos Gods. They fed on intelligent life like parasites, increasing their influence with each new civilization.
The Harbinger knew that there was no more time. With each passing day, the influence of Chaos would grow, and unless decisive action was taken, the galaxy would descend into madness. The Reapers must return and resume the cycle of destruction to maintain order in the universe.
He knew that the mistakes of the past would not be repeated. This time there would be no hesitation or underestimation of the enemy. Shepard may be dangerous, but humanity, like other races, are just pawns in a game much bigger than they can imagine. It's time to act.
The Normandy was in the Terminus system. The Citadel Council had sent a crew to find out why the cargo ships with weapons had disappeared.
The crew was busy with their own affairs, keeping the ship operational. In the engineering bay, on the lower deck, a group of experienced engineers monitored the reactor. This was vital: the slightest malfunction could lead to serious problems for the ship.
"The core is working at twenty percent. It is necessary to cool the main pipes!" shouted an engineer with brown hair, entering commands into a holographic display next to the huge reactor.
"Understood!" responded a young girl with silver-gray eyes. It was Tali'Zorah vas Rayya, a quarian in a traditional environmental suit. Her slender frame was hidden beneath a purple suit with black and silver patterns, and her face, like all quarians, was covered by a transparent helmet with a slight purple tint.
She ran to the pipes to turn on the cooling nitrogen.
For quarians, the Pilgrimage was an important stage in their growth. In order to complete it and return to their Migrant Fleet, they had to bring back a useful gift. Tali had already found her gift thanks to Commander Shepard: data on the geth. This data could help her people predict the geth's behavior in combat. But before it could be useful, it had to be deciphered.
When she asked Shepard to make a copy of the data, she expected a refusal. Sending a copy could cause problems with the Alliance brass. But the captain not only agreed, he assured her that he could handle the brass himself.
Tali was grateful. Shepard was one of the few who did not discriminate against her. She had often faced racism on the Citadel because she was a quarian. Her people were despised and shunned. Quarians were considered outcasts, wandering the galaxy on the Migrant Fleet, and were viewed with suspicion by many races, who considered them poor refugees and thieves. She was called a "rat in a spacesuit" and was constantly rejected for work.
When she plucked up the courage to ask Shepard to join the crew, she expected a refusal. But to her surprise, Shepard accepted without hesitation, accepting her into the crew along with Garus and Wrex. This decision was a relief to her, and proved that the captain was a man who judged not by appearance or background, but by ability and loyalty.
"Main pipes are cooled!" — Tali reported, watching the temperature on the monitor drop rapidly.
— Excellent, thank you! — the chief engineer replied.
Tali headed to the terminal to check the engine status when Pressley appeared on her way.
"Oh, Tali'Zorah, I thought your shift ended an hour ago," Senior Officer Pressley greeted her, serious as always. He was a middle-aged man with short gray hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His reserved and stern appearance reflected his character: he was always neat, disciplined, and adhered to strict rules.
"That is true, but the state of the engine is causing me concern, so I decided to stay a little longer," Tali replied, glancing at the data screen.
Pressley chuckled softly, frowning slightly.
"Okay, but don't overdo it. Commander Shepard needs people with clear heads. Once you're done, go to rest. That's an order."
"Okay," Tali replied, moving toward the terminal. But when she had taken a few steps, Pressley sighed heavily and called out to her again.
"Tali'Zorah, do you have a minute to talk?"
- Um... sure. How can I help you? - Tali stopped, surprised, and turned to him.
They rarely spoke. From the very beginning of her stay on the Normandy, Pressly had been distrustful of her, as he had been of the other alien members of the crew: Garus, Wrex, and Liara. His bias was noticeable, and only after talking with Shepard did he soften a little.
"I wanted to... apologize," Pressly began, sighing heavily, as if it was difficult for him to say it.
"Apologize? For what?" Tali was stunned. She never expected to hear that from him.
"Well, you know... for my treatment of you and the others. I've been prejudiced against everyone who is not human for too long. It's hard to admit my mistakes, but I was wrong.
"Oh, I never thought I'd hear that from you," Tali admitted, her surprise obvious.
- Me too, to be honest. But here we are, and I'm saying it, - Pressley continued, his serious tone leaving no doubt about his sincerity.
- I understand... It's just unexpected. But to be honest, I didn't hold it against you, - Tali answered honestly, surprising Pressley even more.
- Why? - he asked, genuinely interested.
- Well... to be honest, I just thought you were a very demanding and strict officer. We had people like that on the Migrant Fleet too. I'm used to working with them, - Tali explained, remembering the senior officers in her Fleet.
Pressley relaxed a little and even smiled slightly.
- It sounds like we're not that different from them, - he said with a slight grin.
Tali nodded with a smile.
- Yes, you are very similar.
Here's an enhanced, expanded version of the scene:
"Then..." Pressley began, but their conversation was interrupted by the Joker's harsh voice, ringing out over the ship's loudspeaker:
"Attention, crew! The Normandy is under attack!"
At that moment, a powerful explosion thundered. Tali lost her balance, staggered, and fell to the floor, her head pounding from the sudden impact. Alarms began to sound around her - the red emergency lights began to flash throughout the engineering bay, and a siren filled the air with a shrill wail.
Pressley, keeping his cool, immediately reached out and helped Tali up.
"We have to get out of here!" he said quickly, but his gaze suddenly froze on the ceiling. The heavy iron beam began to shift, losing its balance. Without thinking, Pressley lunged forward and pushed Tali aside.
She fell, managing to roll, and the next moment a massive beam fell from the ceiling, crashing down on Pressley with a deafening roar.
"Lieutenant Pressley!" Tali screamed, her heart pounding in her chest with horror. She rushed towards him, but it was immediately clear - the beam crushed him instantly, leaving no chance for salvation.
"Pressley, no!" her voice trembled, her hands shook as she looked at the lifeless body of the officer.
The chief engineer immediately ran up to her, grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her away from the scene of the tragedy.
"We have to go!" his voice was firm, but full of anxiety. "He can't be helped now."
Tali stood there for a moment, stunned by what had happened. Images still flashed before her eyes - Pressley rushing to save her, the roar of the falling beam. She tried to breathe, but her chest was tight with the pain of loss.
"Come on, Tali!" the engineer tugged at her again, urging her on. Tali, still in shock, finally complied and ran towards the exit with him.
A parting glance at Pressley's lifeless body was the last thing she saw before they left the compartment, plunged into chaos.
The Normandy was suddenly and powerfully attacked. A huge enemy ship appeared out of nowhere and opened fire, tearing apart the Normandy's hull. The ship's defense systems did not have time to activate, the camouflage was useless. The crew was forced to immediately begin evacuation.
Captain John Shepard, dressed in his N7 combat armor with black and red inserts, clenched his teeth tiredly, walking along the shaking corridor towards the bridge. The armor felt as heavy as the decision he had to make. He hadn't expected such an attack and hoped for only one thing - that his team would have time to evacuate.
"Garrus, what's the status of the lifeboats?" Shepard said, activating the communicator in his helmet. His voice was firm, but inside he could feel the tension building.
"Everything is fine, Captain!" Garrus's voice came through the static. "But I'm afraid not everyone will make it to the lifeboats in time. Enemy fire is blocking several routes!"
Shepard frowned as the ship shook again from another blow. Sparks rained down from the ceiling, and the red emergency light flickered out of the broken wires.
"Help them as best you can," he ordered, trying to keep his voice calm, although everything inside him was screaming. "And evacuate yourself as quickly as possible!"
"What about you?!" Garrus's voice was filled with worry and concern.
Shepard paused for a second, catching his breath. He knew that Garrus would not like his decision, but he had no choice.
"I have to help Joker," Shepard said, looking back at the bridge, where the pilot's cabin was located. "He will never leave the Normandy without my help. He's too stubborn."
"Then I'll wait for you!" Garrus was ready to do anything not to abandon his friend.
"No!" Shepard snapped, realizing that every second counted. "Evacuate with the others. That's an order, Garrus."
There was silence on the other end of the line for several seconds. Shepard knew how hard this decision was for his friend.
"Okay..." Garrus finally answered, his voice heavy and full of sadness. "Good luck, Shepard."
The connection was cut off, and the captain was once again left alone on the destroyed ship, which was creaking and groaning under the enemy's blows. Pulling himself together, he ran further, towards the bridge, knowing that time was running out.
When Shepard reached the main bridge, a terrible picture opened up before him. The bridge was almost completely destroyed. Right in the middle of the room was a huge hole leading into cold and soulless space. Artificial gravity was broken, and pieces of equipment were slowly floating around. There was a deathly silence all around, interrupted only by the soft cracks of the ship collapsing.
Shepard carefully stepped along the destroyed panels, trying to maintain his balance in the weightlessness. His gaze immediately fell on the Joker - a thin pilot with short dark hair and an invariable baseball cap on his head. He sat at the control panel, desperately trying to save the Normandy from certain death. Joker, suffering from Vrolik syndrome, which made his bones brittle, moved with difficulty, but continued to fight for the ship.
Shepard came closer and, seeing the hopelessness of the situation, called out to him, getting his attention:
"Come on, Joker! Let's get out of here!" Shepard's voice was tense but firm as he pulled Joker away from the panel.
"No!" Joker snapped back, pushing his hand away. There was pain and desperation in his voice. "I can still save the Normandy! We can't just abandon her!"
Shepard, feeling the weight of what was happening, looked at him with bitterness.
"She can't be saved, Joker!" he shouted, shaking the pilot by the shoulders. "If you stay here, you'll die with her!"
Joker looked at the captain, his eyes full of helplessness and pain. He knew Shepard was right, but letting go of the ship that had become his home was unbearable.
Finally, Joker gave in, sighing heavily.
"Okay..." he muttered bitterly, leaning on Shepard to stand up.
They moved toward the lifeboat, picking their way through the floating debris. Joker moved slowly and with difficulty, his frailty making it difficult for him to walk even in normal conditions, and now, in the conditions of the destroyed ship, it was even more difficult. When they reached the lifeboat, Shepard helped Joker get inside first.
But just as Shepard was about to follow, a bright yellow beam suddenly appeared. It hit the captain, throwing him back. Shepard barely managed to grab a beam to keep from flying into outer space.
"Shepard!" Joker screamed, watching the captain cling to the ship with all his might. His voice was full of fear.
Shepard tried to hold on, but the ominous beam appeared again, and his grip weakened. He could not fight any longer. At the last moment, he looked at the Normandy, realizing that this was his end.
Shepard was thrown into outer space, his body slowly moving away from the destroyed ship. He managed to see how Joker, against all odds, still escaped - the lifeboat broke away from the Normandy and headed for the safe zone. But the joy of his friend's survival was quickly overshadowed by the knowledge of his own fate.
Before his eyes, the ship that was his home and a symbol of strength was torn apart in a bright explosion. The blast wave and debris rushed past, hitting Shepard and damaging his suit. The shrapnel tore through the oxygen valves, and he felt the air leave his lungs. His breathing became shallow and heavy.
Shepard floated in the void, watching the stars slowly fade before his eyes. Without oxygen, he felt his consciousness leaving him. His body slowed, and the silence of space enveloped him.
He took one last, feeble breath... and then everything went dark.
"I can't believe he's gone," Garrus said, his voice heavy with sadness.
The small room was dimly lit. Garrus, Tali, Ashley, Liara, and Joker were inside. They were all in deep thought, realizing the loss of Commander Shepard. After the Normandy was attacked and destroyed, the Alliance had found the escape pods and helped the survivors, but the world would never be the same for any of them.
Tali stood a little to the side, leaning against the wall. Her eyes were hidden behind her helmet, but even through the transparent visor, you could see her anxiety and inner struggle. Her hands were shaking, and she pressed them to her chest from time to time, as if trying to ease the pain. Her heart was broken. Shepard was the one who believed in her, who was there for her, and now she had irrevocably lost him. She couldn't come to terms with it. Deep down, she hoped it was just a dream, that he would come back.
She had always admired him, and now, realizing that he was gone, it was especially hard. He was more than just a captain to her - he was a friend she could rely on. Those feelings, hidden behind her caution, were now unbearably sharp.
Garrus sat on a chair, his elbows on his knees, looking at the floor. His sharp gaze was clouded with grief, although he always tried to remain calm. The loss of a friend with whom he had gone through so many trials left a deep mark on his soul.
Ashley, her arms crossed over her chest, stood against the wall, gritting her teeth. Her face was tense, as if she were holding back tears. Her stern and stoic character was now her shield, but inside she was torn apart by pain.
Joker, his head in his hands, sat in a chair. His usually sarcastic and cheerful expression was replaced by a completely blank one. He blamed himself, believing that he could have done more, that he could have saved the Normandy and Shepard. This thought did not leave him for a second.
Liara stood quietly to the side, her eyes full of sorrow. She knew that everyone in this room felt their loss, but for her, Shepard was something more. Her soul was screaming in pain now, but outwardly she maintained a fragile silence.
The weight of the moment was pressing on everyone, and everyone was experiencing the tragedy in their own way.
Here is a reworked version with improved dialogue, emotion, and participation of all characters:
"What do we do now?" Joker broke the gloomy silence, his voice hoarse, as if he was having trouble speaking.
"Keep fighting," Ashley answered sharply, her voice firm, almost steely. "We must see this through to the end." Shepard would want this.
"You're right," Garrus supported her, rising from his chair. "For Shepard's sake, we have to do this. We can't let his sacrifice be in vain."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple," a strange voice suddenly came from behind the door.
Everyone in the room instantly turned to the source of the sound. A man in a blue Alliance military uniform stood in the doorway. His brown hair was neatly styled, and his gray eyes studied them with cold determination.
"Excuse me, who else are you?" Liara asked, surprised by his sudden appearance.
"Admiral of the Alliance Third Fleet, James Johnson," the man introduced himself. "I'm sorry for your loss. But I'm here on business. The Council has ordered your team to be disbanded."
"What!?" Tali's head shot up in horror. "Kyla, they can't!"
"They already have," the admiral continued calmly. — The orders are signed, and I am here to escort you back to Earth and your homeworlds.
"You can't do this!" Garrus said, stepping forward, his voice shaking with suppressed anger. "Admiral, you have to tell the Council that our mission is important! The Reapers are coming, Shepard knew it!"
"To be honest, Mister Vakarian, I don't believe those Reaper stories either," the Admiral snapped, looking at Garrus wearily. "The Council doesn't see it as a threat, and I agree with them."
"What about Sovereign, who attacked the Citadel?" Liara perked up, her eyes wide with despair. "We all saw that ship, Admiral!"
"Saren orchestrated the attack on the Citadel," the Admiral interrupted, frowning. "He had allies, the geth. I wouldn't be surprised if they built that ship."
"That's nonsense!" Tali snapped, her voice shaking with indignation. "The geth couldn't have created something like that. I know better than anyone, I'm an expert on the geth!"
But that doesn't matter now. Once we leave this system, you will be sent home. The orders are clear. This conversation is over.
The Admiral nodded briefly, turned on his heel, and walked out, leaving the crew in silence. Tali clenched her fists, her heart filled with bitterness and helplessness. Garrus looked at her, seeing her state, but found no words to comfort her. Liara covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking slightly with suppressed emotion. The Joker simply remained silent, his gaze blank, as if he had resigned himself to the inevitable.
Ashley, as usual, clenched her teeth and clenched her fists, trying to suppress the wave of anger and despair that was rolling in.
In the Arcturus system, on the Horizon colony, life went on as usual. People were gradually settling the planet, establishing infrastructure and starting families. But today was a turning point.
"Is he locked up?" asked Captain Mark Darren, a man with gray hair at the temples, approaching the doors of the punishment cell.
"Yes, Captain. We have him tied up and isolated. What he did… It's monstrous," answered one of the soldiers accompanying him.
The two men reached the door, and the captain gestured for it to be opened. In a dark, cramped cell, a young man was lying on the floor. His hands and feet were tightly bound with ropes, and he was shaking constantly, as if he were in a fever.
"Why did you kill your family, Simon?" Darren's voice was cold and full of contempt as he approached the tied up boy.
Simon Hale, a young colonist, was just a normal guy working with his parents on the farm yesterday. But last night he was found over the bodies of his mother and father - brutally murdered, with blood covering the entire room. The soldiers arrived too late to save his family, but they detained Simon.
The captain crouched down, looking straight into the boy's eyes, waiting for an answer. But instead of meaningful speech, only the same dark whisper came from the young man.
"Blood for the Blood God, skulls for the Skull Throne... Blood for the Blood God, skulls for the Skull Throne..." he repeated, as if hypnotized.
Mark straightened up, feeling a chill run down his spine. He knew about such phenomena, about how people lost their minds and began to commit unimaginable horrors. This was not just a mad prank. Something dark touched the mind of this boy.
"How long has he been repeating this? " the captain asked, not taking his eyes off Simon.
"Since we found him," the soldier answered grimly. "He doesn't stop."