"BEING PART OF THE WORLD PUTS A NEW PERSPECTIVE ON THINGS, DOESN'T IT?"
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LOG I: DON’T FEAR THE REAPER
The SSV Normandy SR-2: Bridge
The Normandy shuddered horribly as Joker punched in as much power as he could to outrun the blast radius, jaw clenched as he swerved tightly around battlefield debris. Tali’Zorah sat in the co-pilot chair, monitoring the ship’s vitals and trying not to panic as she watched the visible heatwave raging closer and closer behind them.
“Nearly there…”
Dipping below the now-offline relay, they skirted around it and took off into the deep black as silent tears were rolling down the pilot’s face. Letting off the throttle once they were at a safe range, Joker leaned back heavily in his seat, yanked his Alliance cap off and threw it on the ground, then pounded the arm of his chair.
Removing herself from her seat, Tali went to Joker’s side and wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly. Words refused to come forth as he sobbed into his hands, leaning against her.
“Gone, g-gone… Tali, they’re gone, oh my God,” Joker got out.
The visor to Tali’s suit fogged up as she tried to take a deep, steadying breath and, failing that, turned to try and see who was running towards them from the deck.
“Tali! Joker?”
Garrus and Kaidan made it to them first, Kaidan dropping beside Joker while Garrus pulled Tali into a hug. She felt like the ship was spinning beneath her feet, so she was grateful for the turian’s tall, steadying presence. Garrus walked her backwards so she could lean on the back of the co-pilot chair, glancing at the debris that cartwheeled by the window.
“Everyone okay?”
Liara and her AI, Glyph, appeared, looking drawn and pale. She went to Joker, whose sobbing hadn’t stopped when Kaidan took Tali’s place beside him.
“We made it,” Kaidan muttered, bittersweet.
No one replied.
Garrus could hardly feel anything: not the wound that needed to be tended to, not the cold steel of the floor beneath his feet, and not the mixed celebrations from the crew. The only thoughts railing against his mind were for and of the Commander, stumbling into the Crucible, rifle in hand and armour near disintegration, a face full of determination and just a hint of vengeance. Without him.
“I want to see her,” Joker said forcefully, rising clumsily from the controls, flicking on the autopilot, “I want to see her, damn it, I need to see her!”
The team shared a pained look.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” Liara asked gently, but Joker shook his head, grabbing Kaidan’s forearm to steady himself.
“Show me where she is, Liara, I swear to God-”
“Okay, alright… follow me.”
Joker and Kaidan headed towards the elevator, Garrus, Tali, Liara, and Glyph close behind. Smiles of relief slid away as they passed by, living reminders of the war they had all just been a part of. As the door shut, Garrus caught a glimpse of Samantha Traynor, hunched over her station and typing furiously.
It reopened a minute later, and their small group headed for and through the med-bay, Dr. Chakwas barely acknowledging them as she tended to the injured. The doors to the AI room slid open and Joker’s mournful howl echoed into the med-bay, followed by his footsteps as he ran to EDI’s body, lying in the middle of the room.
“EDI, EDI please, oh God, EDI,” he pleaded, sinking to his knees and taking her in his arms.
She rolled limply against his chest as Joker pressed his face against the top of her head, cursing and crying in equal measures. Liara’s devastated expression looked exactly how Garrus and Tali felt. She tapped Glyph quietly and exited to assist Dr. Chakwas, leaving Garrus and Tali with Joker.
“EDI, wake up, it’s over,” Joker said into her metal, eyes shut tight, “I love you EDI, please wake up…”
“Jeff.”
A hitched breath came from Joker’s form, the use of his name barely a whisper from Garrus. Trembling, he looked up from EDI’s prone form to his friends, face red and soaking, as they knelt down on either side of him.
“She’s gone,” Joker choked, stroking EDI’s check with his thumb. “We fucking won, but she’s gone. What kind of sick, cosmic joke is this?”
“I don’t know,” Garrus said, Vala’s face swimming before his eyes, “I don’t know.”
Joker seemed to see the same ghost, and his head shot up to the turian again.
“Shepard… did she…?”
Tali shook her head, neither her nor Garrus able to say the words that would mean their finality. Joker’s tears started anew as he looked back at EDI.
“We should get her somewhere comfortable, Jeff. Dr. Chakwas and Liara will take good care of her,” Tali said, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet.
With a gesture, Garrus helped Joker to his feet, EDI in the pilot’s arms. Liara had a bed waiting for them, letting Joker lay her down gently as Dr. Chakwas unhitched the privacy curtains and led Garrus and Tali away.
“Let’s give him some time.”
The two stepped into the mess hall, eerily quiet compared to the sounds above. Tali sat down hard at one of the tables, putting her head in her hands as Garrus sat down beside her. They listened to the Normandy’s engines hum as they drifted through space, and he couldn’t help but think that the ship was mourning too.
Questions began to bubble, unwanted, but he expressed only one aloud.
“What do we do now?”
“I don’t know, Garrus,” Tali replied, staring at the tabletop through her hands. “Perhaps we should contact Admiral Hackett, he’d want to know we’re oka–that we made it.”
She rose abruptly from the bench, hugging Garrus before she did so. “I think I’ll go do that right now - I’ll let you know what he says. Why don’t you go get some rest?”
He didn’t reply, but watched as Tali left, disappearing around the corner. Dread was welling up in his chest again, but Garrus forced his legs to move and head towards the elevator again, skipping by the crew’s room. Instead, he pushed the button for the captain’s quarters, taking measured breaths as he went up.
Captain’s Quarters was painted in the Alliance blue beside the double doors that led to Vala’s room. A sharp pain in Garrus’ throat held him back for a long moment, listening to his blood pumping through his body. Inhaling, he pushed forward inside.
An unearthly silence filled the room, the glow from the aquarium’s lights and filtration system audible. It was just as it had been before they left: Vala’s sweater draped over the back of her desk chair, the N7 embroidered on the chest, a glass of water and two empty coffee mugs beside a blinking datapad, the chess game they had been in the middle of still waiting for a move that would never come.
He dropped into her chair, staring at the red blinking until his curiosity overcame him. Pulling it towards him, Garrus unlocked it, opening it to find Vala’s inbox with several unread messages waiting to be seen. With a glance at the fish, he tapped the first unread message, received long before they had returned to Earth.
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>TO: Cmdr Shepard, SYSTEMS ALLIANCE
>FROM: TREASURES OF PALAVEN, CUSTOMER SERVICE
>RE: SPECIAL REQUEST, HOT RUSH
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Hello Commander!
I am delighted to inform you that your custom request has been approved by our team! We must advise that it will take an extra week for the details you have asked for, but I have confidence that you will be more than happy with our work. If you would like to see a mock-up beforehand, please let me know within the next 48 hours of this message being sent, otherwise we will ship you the finished product upon completion to the address you have left with us.
Thank you again for your business, we look forward to speaking with you soon!
Paedia Belliion
General Manager
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
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“The hell’s this?” Garrus murmured, re-reading the email. Custom request for what? Curious, he went to her Sent messages and was immediately disappointed - it was empty. His mandibles fluttered in confusion, wondering what would have prompted Shepard to clear her own sent messages.
A small chime startled the turian as the datapad signalled two incoming messages, both from an Alliance address. His anxiety flared at once, and he tapped the first one open.
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>TO: Systems Alliance, All; Systems Alliance, United Fleet, All
>FROM: Admiral Steven Hackett, Fifth Fleet
>(no subject)
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Three years ago, an Alliance soldier - and the first human Spectre - approached the Citadel’s Council in good faith with a warning that an enemy beyond our comprehension was making its way to the Milky Way. This same soldier watched as arguments ensued instead of action. We didn’t listen, too proud to acknowledge it, but too scared to act. And we paid for it with a direct attack to the Citadel, one we barely won.
Two years ago, that same soldier and her crew were ambushed by an unknown enemy. Many good people were lost that day, including the soldier. What we didn’t know was that her body was delivered to our enemies, where they spent two years bringing her back from the dead, and you know what she did when they succeeded? That soldier turned right around to try and save all of us again, so great was her drive for us to listen, to understand. To fight back.
Several weeks ago, that very same soldier returned to our scientists with blueprints for a weapon that could end the cycle of terror the Reapers brought, permanently. We named it the Crucible, and no one but the best and brightest put themselves to the task, even those that were unexpected. We succeeded.
Today, the Crucible fulfilled its purpose. And today, that same soldier paid the ultimate price for all of our sake: human and alien.
That soldier’s name was Commander Vala Shepard.
Because of the Commander’s selflessness, the Milky Way is united and free. Because of her, we worked together to hit an enemy wholly believed to be unbeatable. And in our perseverance, we won, but at a high cost.
Today, I want all of us to remember every person we lost to this war. Today, I want us all to remember the sacrifices chosen by the few that gave us this moment, right now. Today, I want to remember Commander Shepard of the SSV Normandy, whose courage and heart was larger than all of ours.
While the war may be over, rescue, recon, and recovery is not. The United Fleet, as it stands now, will not be dissolved. As I type this, messages of aid and hope are pouring in from Palaven, Rannoch, Sur’Kesh, Tuchanka, even Thessia.
We are not defeated, we are not broken, and we will not falter now. There are wounds to mend, our dead to mourn, and stock to take. Right now, more than ever in any of our histories, we must work together. This galaxy belongs to us all, as we’ve proven today. The United Fleet will always be here to protect.
No more secrets or hiding. No more in-fighting. Today, we have won. Be proud.
Admiral Steven Hackett, Captain of the Fifth Fleet
Systems Alliance
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Garrus leaned back in the chair, shutting his eyes tightly as he tilted his head to the ceiling. Had it really been three years already? Three years, the Council fucked Shepard over. So many lives could have been saved if they hadn’t been so fucking proud. Maybe things could have turned out differently, maybe she’d still be-
A sharp snap startled Garrus, and he looked to see a small crack had crossed the top of the datapad where he had gripped it too tightly. Immediate regret bubbled up and, cursing himself, he opened the second message.
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>TO: SSV Normandy Crew, All
>FROM: Admiral Steven Hackett, Fifth Fleet
>I'm so sorry.
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The official orders as they currently stand are that the crew of the SSV Normandy will not be relieved of their stations in the immediate future, as per myself. The truth behind that is this: I cannot begin to fathom what any of you are feeling right now, but it’s my personal promise to each of you that you will not be reassigned away from the Normandy unless you request it. Shepard has spoken highly about every one of you, and I intend to honour her trust, and her sentiments. This is your home as much as it was hers.
What’s left of the Alliance Command are in talks about inducting all non-human crew of the Normandy into the Systems Alliance as honorary members, in recognition of the part you all played, as well as in honour of the Commander. That’s not common knowledge right now, so don’t share that outside of the crew, but I didn’t think any of you should be kept in the dark about this. I hope this is an acceptable course of action. I know I would personally be proud to serve alongside any and all of you.
You’ve lost a loyal friend, a fierce advocate, and a beloved leader. Shepard was the best of us all, and I can’t express my condolences enough to make it matter. But I want you all to know that I already miss her too. If I could be personal briefly, the galaxy is a lesser place without her.
One last piece of business: as Admiral of the Fifth and United Fleets, and on behalf of what’s left of the Systems Alliance, I am officially promoting Garrus Vakarian to Acting Captain in the meantime. I don’t imagine there will be any objections, but if there are, let me know.
Be strong, Normandy. We’ll speak again soon.
Steven
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Seeing his name singled out before he had read everything nearly gave him a heart attack, his previous anger draining away to leave behind an empty cavity in his chest. Acting Captain, as per Hackett. Garrus pressed a hand over his eyes, letting it settle in that Shepard’s room was now his. They - he - could stay as long as they wanted, as long as they needed.
Nausea began to creep in, so he rose to stand by the aquarium, pressing his head to the glass. Attempting to fight it off, he tried to comfort himself with the fact that it would be infinitely more comfortable to be in her room than alone in the main battery. A sunfish swam before his face, and booped the glass with its mouth.
“Yeah,” Garrus muttered, “me too buddy.”
The intercom buzzed twice on her - his - desk. Leaning over, Garrus pressed the button down to answer gingerly, vertigo making his vision swim.
“Eh, hello?”
“Garrus, it’s Tali. Do you have a moment?”
He didn’t think he’d ever have a ‘moment’ again, but company sounded better than being alone right now. Reaching around the model ship display case, he flicked another button.
“It’s open!” he called out.
The door retracted to reveal Tali, along with Liara, Glyph, Kaidan, Joker, Dr. Karin Chakwas and, surprisingly, Ashley and Javik. Glyph bobbed in after them. Garrus raised an eyebrow at his friends.
“I hope this isn’t an intervention, because nothing can save me,” he said, half-jokingly. The doctor was eyeing the injuries he hadn’t gone in for yet, but to his relief, she said nothing.
“No, Garrus. We all got the Admiral’s message, and we wanted you to know that we agree and support his decision,” Tali replied softly. “Could we come in?”
He nodded, moving to the bed to let them take up spots around the room: Tali perched on the coffee table beside the unfinished chess game, Kaidan sat down beside Garrus on the edge of the bed, while Karin, Ashley, Joker, and Liara got comfortable on the couch. Glyph hovered beside Liara, and Javik posted himself by the weapon and outfit holo. With a brief glance at his friends, new and old, Garrus could feel their exhaustion radiating against his own.
He leaned on his knees, eyes sore and spine stiff. “I appreciate your vote of confidence, everyone,” Garrus said, “but did this warrant a visit?”
“We’re worried, big guy,” Kaidan spoke up first, brows knit, “about you. Losing the Commander, it’s…”
A rumble of thoughts attempted to march across Garrus’ tongue, more pronounced than before, and he nearly bit down on it from the spike of anxiety that flooded him again.
“It’s like the sun’s gone out,” the turian murmured, low and cold. “Like I’m floating in space with no oxygen, nowhere to land, just a… a vast emptiness. And there isn’t a damn thing I can do to save her, Kaidan. Not a damn thing.”
Reaching into one of the nightstands, Garrus pulled out two bottles, one of turian brandy and the other human whiskey, and passed the whiskey to Kaidan, who raised it in a toast.
“To Shepard.”
The others took turns taking a sip from the bottle and murmuring Shepard’s name, while Garrus laid into his, finishing half the bottle before the whiskey was set down on the table. The atmosphere changed then, from brooding and grief to one of something that reminded Garrus of the moments before a close-quarters ambush.
“Garrus, there was something else we wanted to, to run by you. If you’re up for hearing it, of course,” Kaidan said, looking at Liara, “everything seems to be a lot right now.”
“I don’t know how to say this in any other way, so I apologise for being blunt, but we’re um - we want to go back to look for Shepard,” she said, laying their meaning at Garrus’ feet. “And since you’re the captain now…”
Chills rippled through Garrus’ body, down to the marrow in his bones. He couldn’t meet her gaze, any of them, as the back of eyes burned with the threat of tears once more. He pressed a hand to his face, mandibles clicking, and someone touched his knee. Garrus looked up to see Liara, rivulets of tears streaming down her cheeks silently. Kaidan nodded in encouragement to the pair, his nose and ears red.
“You want to go back and… for what, burial? What if there’s-what if she’s…” Garrus couldn’t get any of the words to form.
Javik scoffed from his spot behind the turian, and he took a few steps forward, arms folded against a proud chest as he gazed down at Garrus with the weight of fifty-thousand years behind it.
“We believe Shepard could be alive.”
All eyes swivelled to the Prothean as the words fell out into the room and filled the remaining air space, but he ignored the stares from his teammates.
“Is that not what you have been wondering as well, turian? That somehow, the Commander still lives?” Javik asked flatly.
Garrus glared back at him, then took a swig of brandy.
“Maybe it is.”
“Well, we all agree.” Joker leaned back into the couch. “This isn’t a joke, Garrus. If the Commander is out there, we all owe it to her to at least try and find her. It’s what EDI would’ve done,” he added, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t at least try to find Shepard?” Tali spoke up for the first time since they had arrived. “After everything she’s done for each of us? No. We have to try.”
Garrus rose without a word, taking the brandy with him as he walked by Javik to the aquarium. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass once more, the sunfish swimming by as if to say hello. In the tank’s glass, he could see the model-ship of the Normandy reflected back at him, along with Vala’s N7 sweater on her chair.
Draining the last of the alcohol, Garrus stood at the top of the steps, facing his crew.
“Okay. I’m listening.”