In the first-floor living room of his beachside home, John’Shepard sat in his recliner, then opened up a window on his omni-tool, and started searching for his album of family photos. Yes, today was Reclamation Day, the fifty-second anniversary of the end of the Reaper War, of when the quarian people’s long exile had finally come to an end.

Soon, his children, their families, and many old friends would come over to visit and have dinner on the second-floor terrace. There, they’d get to watch the Reclamation Day light show light up the sky over Catyn with dazzling, patriotic holograms.

Indeed, now, was a good time to refresh his memory.

It had been so long.

Finally, he found the album, and the first photo was of his son, Zhoru, as an infant, crawling around the second-floor living room in his E-ball. He let out a weak laugh, then smiled. Apparently, Zhoru’s biological mother had been a quarian exile that had returned to Rannoch, pregnant and suffering from Felz’elt after her lifemate had given his life for hers . Strangely, she had no ID records in the fleet’s systems and had died during childbirth. At the orphanage, her child had no name nor clan – just a number.

That boy deserved to have a good home.

So after completing the mandatory child-care and parenting courses, with ninety-sixth percentile scores on their numerous written and practical exams, he and Tali had adopted him without hesitation. Briefly, he looked back to when Zhoru had taken his first steps, to when Zhoru had spoken his first word ‘ship’, and to the first time Zhoru had called him, ‘father’, and Tali, ‘mother’.

They were moments he would never forget.

He scrolled to the next photo of him and Tali standing beside each other on the beach. Whilst Tali was carrying the three-year-old Zhoru, wearing his first suit, in her arms, their oldest son, Jona, and their daughter, Aelina, were standing right in front of them.

He smiled. At the orphanage, Aelina had been the freak child whom nobody wanted to adopt. As an extraordinarily rare quarian biotic, she was a pariah to the other children, the ‘dangerous’ girl with no name, no clan, and no friends except Jona.

“Jona, if you get this, be strong for Daddy. Mommy loves you very much!”

“And my son, tell him…Tell Jona that his father made it to the homeworld.”

Indeed, he had. Yes, his eldest son had lost everyone he’d loved during the Reaper War, and yet the strength of his character had remained undiminished. Indeed, at the orphanage, Jona had refused to be adopted unless Aelina came along with him.

He let out a weak laugh. He had rarely felt so proud, and without hesitation, he and Tali had adopted them. Later, he had always loved taking his children to the beach by their house, and watching the three laugh and play.

Smiling, he scrolled through photos of what he called the golden years, of when his children got to enjoy the innocence of childhood, with countless vid and game nights at their home, with countless Yilaum do vis Grens and ‘quarian’ birthdays , and with countless family trips and holidays around Rannoch, and on one of the rebuilt arms of the Citadel.

Yes, in spite of the rough patches, like Zhoru’s ‘monk’ phase, Aelina’s often explosive tantrums, and Jona’s brief obsession with Galaxy of Fantasy , the golden years had been the greatest time of his life. During them, he and Tali had done everything possible to ensure their children would grow up with no traumas or tragedies to haunt the rest of their days.

They deserved only the best.

He sighed. As much as he wanted the golden years to last forever, his children would eventually lose their innocence, and he and Tali had done everything they could to prepare them for the cold, hard realities of adulthood. He scrolled through the next few photos of dinners celebrating his children’s graduations from the Catyn Institute of Higher Learning , and then to photos of when Aelina and Zhoru had finished their military training, with Zhoru in the navy, and Aelina in the marines.

He huffed through his nose. Back then, the last of the Khai’Rothians, who had escaped their Reaper Cycle using time dilation to travel into the future, had cut a bloody swathe across the Terminus systems, slaughtering millions as they carved out a new empire.

Yes, the First Terminus War had broken out, shattering the peace he had fought so hard to build. And as soon as the Khai’Rothians began annexing worlds on the edge of quarian space, Zhoru and Aelina could not resist the siren call to war, to defend the Veil Republic against alien invaders.

He took a deep breath.

Indeed, he would never forget the countless hours he and Tali had spent practically begging them not to get involved.

“I will not stand by and do nothing! Not when the homeworld itself is threatened!”

“Everything you’ve built, father…It’s my duty – my purpose – to defend it.”

“It’s worth dying for…”

In the end, he had relented. Nothing he nor Tali could have said would have stoked the flames of their patriotic zeal, of their relentless drive and ferocity to defend the homeworld. Thankfully, Jona had not followed them. He smiled. Yes, Jona had always been the gentle one and had chosen to live a peaceful life, pursuing a career in his passion: starship engineering.

He scrolled to the next photo of Jona’s bonding ceremony with Luna’Moreau, and then to the births of his first three grandchildren, Kharo, Erun, and Alani. He smiled. Few moments had filled him with such pride and joy, and they were welcome amidst the long, terrible years of blood-freezing fear that Zhoru and Aelina wouldn’t return alive.

He let out a relieved sigh. Thankfully, they had not only survived, but had returned as heroes, having proved themselves as masters of the art of war. Through sheer merit, Zhoru had become the youngest Admiral of the Heavy Fleet in quarian history, whilst Aelina had become the first quarian Spectre. Yes, after the armistice, they had earned a chance to rest, to build families of their own.

Smiling, he scrolled to the next photo of Zhoru’s bonding ceremony with Naala’Reegar, and then to Aelina’s with the sixth human Spectre, Alexander Cain. Alex had reminded him so much of himself, and in the end, he had welcomed the Spectre into the Clan, recognizing Aelina’s bond to him as genuine. Not once had Alex ever failed or disappointed him. Indeed, the Spectre had made his daughter the happiest quarian in the galaxy, but…

He sighed, as he scrolled to the next photo of Naala’Shepard pregnant with the unborn J’haerun, and then to a photo of J’haerun’s gravestone.

“What have I ever done to deserve this?”

“I would have given him everything…”

Zhoru had been so excited to become a father, so eager to give his son the greatest childhood possible.

But it was not to be.

Without warning, Naala had given birth prematurely to a stillborn fetus, and J’haerun’s death struck the entire family like a dagger to the chest. Indeed, he would never forget Naala’s tortured, choking sobs, nor the sheer despair in his son’s eyes amidst his long, terrible depression.

Ancestors, if he, Tali, and the rest of his family hadn’t been there to support him and Naala through their grief, he did not want to imagine what might have happened. But in the end, Zhoru and Naala had recovered. They had crawled their way out of a seemingly bottomless pit of grief and despair, with mental scar tissue over their psychological wounds.

He scrolled to the next photo of the birth of his twin granddaughters, Raela and Nylana. He let out a weak laugh. To this day, Zhoru and his family still visited J’haerun’s grave whenever they got the chance.

Yes, as long as he lived, he would make sure that J’haerun would never be forgotten amongst all Shepards.

Next, he scrolled through photos of another golden age in his life, of the ten-year peace that had followed the First Terminus War. He smiled. During it, he got to watch his grandchildren grow up, and he and Tali always loved to spoil them. In the next photo, everyone was wearing the new Mark-2 suits, designed to be more comfortable, and in the photo after, two of his grandchildren were posing by one of the first A’aneth platforms.

He let out a weak laugh. After bouncing around several academic institutions, others had used and expanded upon the ideas in his book to spark the first social movements that lead to the Synthetic Restoration. He sighed. It had all come so close to civil war, but thankfully, the right people had sided with the Restorationists, and such a conflict never came to be.

He leaned back into his chair. With the Shepard Doctrines an integral part of their programming, along with knowledge of the Reaper Cycles and their predecessors, the Geth, the A’aneth had become the greatest boon to the rebuilding efforts, accelerating them to unseen heights. For a while, it seemed as though galactic civilization might finally recover from the Reaper War, and enter a new golden age. Closing his eye, he huffed through his nose.

But they just had to break the armistice.

He scrolled through the next batch of photos, taken during the dark days of the Second Terminus War. Momentarily, he clenched his jaw. Those bastards had used the ten-year peace to lick their wounds, to adapt from their old failures, and to consolidate their hold on the Terminus systems. Without warning, they had renewed hostilities with twice the ferocity.

During the war, he and Tali had traveled all over Compact space, giving speeches, and inspiring the masses however they could. He sighed. As the conflict raged on, he had lost so many of his former crewmates.

He scrolled through photos he’d taken during Ashley, Jacob, James, Jack, and Samara’s funerals. After a failed assassination attempt meant to decapitate most of the Hierarchy's leadership, he had almost lost Garrus too, and the Compact had come so close to fragmenting, into becoming easy prey for the Khai’Rothian empire.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

He let out a contented sigh.

Thankfully, Zhoru and Aelina had turned the tide. He scrolled to the next photo he’d taken during the peace talks he had attended, helping to negotiate the end of the war. Before those talks, his son had rebounded from his one and only defeat, at the Battle of Illium, and had won his masterpiece at the Battle of the Serpent Nebula, which had made him the Commander in Chief of all the Compact’s naval forces. And no doubt, that masterpiece wouldn’t have been possible, if not for the intelligence gathered during his daughter’s shadow war in enemy space.

He leaned back into his recliner. Closing his eye, he took a deep breath through his nose. Oh, praise the ancestors that Zhoru and Aelina had survived, that they had lived to see the end of the war, when the Treaty of Boltzmann had crushed Khai’Rothian imperial ambitions forever.

Just then, he received an incoming comm-request from Io, around two-thousand A’aneth programs willingly caretaking the town of Narun. He answered it. “Clan Master, your guests wish to inform you of their impending arrival, precisely seven minutes and thirty-two seconds from now.”

“Thanks for informing me,” he said, standing up. “Tell me, where is Tali?”

“Your lifemate is upstairs,” Io said, “on the second-floor terrace.”

He nodded, then headed upstairs, past old photos of the Normandy days and the red-black banner of Clan Shepard mounted on one wall. And on the second-floor terrace, he spotted his lifemate, leaning on the railing, and looking out at the dazzling cityscape of Catyn ahead. Over her Mark-2 suit, she was wearing a red-black Khel’mash , a cross between a poncho and a dress, decorated with gold filigree.

Apparently, it was a popular choice of clothing before the Morning War.

Next to her was the family dinner table, atop of which lay the food they had just prepared about an hour ago. For the quarian guests were several tubes of Zhel’fin and Ualam. For the two turian guests was a pot of Khak’chek. For the levo guests was a pot of mushroom risotto, a pot of stir-fried tofu and vegetables, along with a pot of steamed rice . And for drinks, the dextro guests had a pitcher of iced Ual tea, whilst the levo ones had a pitcher of strawberry lemonade.

He approached her. Soon, she stopped humming a tune of her favorite song, of an ancient hymn for the ancestors, then faced him. Her glowing eyes met his, and he smiled. Yes, even in her eighties, she was still so beautiful. With one hand, he held her close, then kissed her visor. “Well, you look happy.”

“Of course, I’m happy, Yahn, ” she said. She let out a weak laugh. “Our entire family is coming to visit. Keelah, it’s been so long…too long.”

“Indeed, it has,” he said. How long had it been again? The last time he’d seen any of his children or grandchildren in person had been three years ago, during a diplomatic summit he’d attended on the Citadel. Momentarily, he looked over Tali’s shoulder and spotted several shuttles heading towards his home. “Looks like they’ll be arriving soon.” He held one of her hands. “Come. Let’s give them a warm welcome.”

She gave him a quarian kiss. “I’d love nothing more.”

He and Tali headed downstairs, then went outside onto the front porch, then onto their front yard. Barely a minute later, a sky car landed a few feet ahead. Its side door opened with a hiss and a click, and then Zhoru, Naala, Raela, and Nylana stepped outside.

Within seconds, Raela and Nylana looked at him. Both were wearing extravagant red and black cloths, with gold filigree, around their suits.

“ Sahba! ”

“ Sahvi! ”

Raela was the first to come over and give him a tight hug. Returning the gesture, he let out a hearty laugh. “Ah, it’s so good to see you, Ahya .” Gently, he pulled away.

And then Nylana embraced him. “It’s been so long, Sahba . So long.” Gently, she pulled away, gripping both his shoulders. “Tell me, are you and Sahvi doing well? Have you two been–”

Somebody cleared their throat. Momentarily, he looked over Nylana’s shoulder, and he spotted Zhoru standing before him, clasping his hands behind his back. Unlike previous Reclamation Day dinners, he wasn’t wearing his military uniform, but the civilian red and black cloths over his suit. “Long time no see, father.”

Reluctantly, Nylana stepped aside. Smiling, he spread out his arms for a hug. “Come here, you.”

Chuckling, Zhoru came over and gave him a brotherly hug. “Ah, it’s so great to see you again.”

When Zhoru pulled away, he put one hand on his son’s shoulder. “For once you came in something other than your uniform.”

Zhoru let out a weak laugh. “I suppose peacetime has given me little to do lately.”

“Zhoru?” Tali said, once she finished hugging Naala. Zhoru faced her. Tali spread out her arms for a hug. “Get over here and give your mother–”

Without hesitation, Zhoru went and gave Tali a warm, tight hug. “Keelah, it’s been far, far too long.” Gently, Zhoru pulled away. “I would have messaged you more. It’s just–”

Tali chuckled. “Oh, no worries. No worries.”

Just then, another sky-car was about to land in their front yard. He put one hand on his son’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take your family inside and get settled? Dinner’s on the second-floor terrace.”

Zhoru nodded, then gestured for his family to follow him into the house. As they did so, the next sky car landed in their front yard. With a click and a hiss, its side door opened, then Jona stepped outside, along with his family, Lia’Moreau, and the newest member of the family – Kharo’s pregnant lifemate, Tysali’Shepard, formerly of Clan Raan.

If only Joker was here too. Five years ago, Joker had passed away of natural causes, with Lia, Luna, and his grandchildren beside him, in Heurta Memorial Hospital. The death of his life-long friend had dealt the entire family a terrible blow, but at least he was with the ancestors now, having lived over forty years with his lifemate.

And when Lia, now an Onyeh and Dram’zelt din Relai of the Clan, joined him, Jeff would be forever at peace.

Immediately, Jona’s gaze met Tali’s. “Mother!” Jona spread out his arms, then went over and gave Tali a warm, tight hug. “Ah, it’s so good to see you!”

Meanwhile, Alani approached him. “ Sahba!”

Erun followed her. “Keelah, it’s so good to see you!”

He smiled, then spread out his arms for a hug. “Come here, you two!” Alani embraced him, and he let out a hearty laugh, returning the gesture just as eagerly. When he let go, he then embraced Erun. “Oh, praise the ancestors, I’m so glad you’ve come.”

Erun chuckled. “We wouldn’t have missed this for anything.”

Meanwhile, Jona looked at him, then approached, spreading out his arms for a hug. “Aaah, it’s been so long, father. So long.”

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Erun, then gave his eldest son a fatherly hug. He let out a weak laugh. “Ah, I knew you’d make it.” Gently, he pulled away, then put one hand on Jona’s shoulder. “So…what’s this I hear about a faculty position at the Institute?”

Jona laughed. “Oh, I’ll tell you all about it at dinner.”

Momentarily, he looked over his son’s shoulder, and another sky car was about to land in the front yard.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” he said. “In the meantime, how about you take your family inside and get settled? Dinner’s on the second-floor terrace.”

“Keelah, just like old times.” Jona turned and began marshaling his family inside. As Jona did so, the sky car landed in his front yard. Its side door opened, and then Aelina and her lifemate, Alex, stepped outside.

Even in their fifties, both looked no less vigorous than how they were in their youth, as though they’d barely aged at tall. Standing at six feet foot three, and wearing a form-fitting dinner suit, Alex still had the physique of an Olympic gymnast, and his blond hair and beard hardly had any grey hairs. However, much of his face teemed with scars, and his right arm was a bionic replacement.

Similarly, Aelina hadn’t lost her robust, hourglass figure. Like her mother, she was also wearing a red-black Khel’mash , with gold filigree. However, her left leg from the knee joint down was a bionic replacement

Oh, praise the ancestors that she had come. Normally, her Spectre assignments kept her too busy, and often, he worried she might become too distant from her family.

“Aelina!” he said, approaching her, and spreading his arms out for a hug.

Aelina’s gaze met his. “Father!” She came over and gave him a warm, tight hug. “Keelah, it’s been too long. Too long.”

“I’m so glad you were able to make it,” he said. Gently, he pulled away, then extended one hand towards Alex for a handshake. “It’s great to see you again, Alex.”

He spoke those words in English. Ever since he and Tali had stopped using translators to communicate with each other, it felt strange to speak.

Alex accepted his handshake and nodded, giving him strong eye contact. The Spectre’s green eyes looked piercing. “The pleasure is mine, Clan Master.”

“ Alekss, ” Tali said cordially. “Welcome, welcome. Yust wait until you see what I’ve made for all the levos at tonight’s dinner. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

He smiled. I’m sure I will. Yes, now, he could hardly remember the days when his lifemate was terrible at cooking, or when she could hardly speak even a sentence of English. Now, she was a master of both.

Out in the distance, he spotted three sky cars, about to land in his front yard. He looked at Aelina. “Well, feel free to head on inside and get comfortable. Dinner’s on the second-floor terrace.”

Aelina nodded. As Alex and Aelina walked, arm-in-arm, into his home, the three sky scars landed in his front yard, one after the other. Out of the first one stepped Kasumi and her lifemate, Shakro’Shan, a former quarian exile and freelance hacker she’d met on Illium about forty-five years ago. Out of the second one stepped Garrus Vakarian and his second wife, Nahda Vakarian, one of the Hierarchy's representatives in the Compact’s senate. And out of the last one stepped Liara and her bondmate, Joane Shaw, the eighth human Spectre.

Smiling, he approached them. “Well, well, well. Welcome, everybody. Welcome.”

Immediately, Garrus came over and extended his hand for a handshake. Now, over half of his life-long friend’s body was bionic, including several organs. Without hesitation, he shook Garrus’ hand firmly.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything, Shepard,” Garrus said.

“And neither would I,” Liara said, also extending her hand for a handshake. He shook it as well.

He sighed. If only Wrex and Ashley were here. Yes, Wrex was always too busy with his duties as Emperor of the Krogan, but at least he always sent gifts and messages.

Meanwhile, Tali embraced Kasumi, warmly and eagerly. “Oh, welcome sister. Welcome. It’s so great you’ve come.”

Kasumi laughed. In her eighties, Kasumi was much thinner and frailer than how she was in her youth, with grey hair, tied up into a bun, and like him, a face teeming with wrinkles and crow’s feet. She was wearing black formal wear. “Oh, come on. I’m practically family. I’ve never missed a Reclamation Day dinner.”

Tali chuckled, letting go. “No. No, you haven’t.” She let out a contented sigh. “Anyways, come. Come. I’m sure you’ll love the levo dishes I’ve made.”

“Follow me,” he said, and then everyone followed him into his home, and then upstairs. The rest of the guests were chatting in the upstairs living room, and he gestured for them to follow as well. On the second-floor terrace, everyone took their seat around the large, circular table, with Tali sitting right beside him.

“Again,” he said, pouring himself a glass of strawberry lemonade, “thanks for coming everyone. I know all of you are busy with your lives and duties, but every now and then, I believe it’s important to remember and strengthen the bonds that brought us to where we are today.” He cleared his throat. “Anyways, I’m sure you’re all starving right now. So enjoy everybody.” He raised his glass of strawberry lemonade. “Happy Reclamation Day.”

“Happy Reclamation Day,” everyone said in unison

Then finally, the dinner began. Once he prepared his plate and began to dig into his food, he joined in on all the table conversations, which bounced from topic to topic, ranging from Jona’s job offer at the Institute, to some of Zhoru and Garrus’ war stories. Amidst them all, everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves, although admittedly, he was only half-listening most of the time. Instead, he was relishing every moment.

Yes, nights like this were ones he’d always cherish and never take for granted.

Soon, about an hour and half later, when everyone was nearly finished with their meal, Alani sprang out of her chair, then pointed towards the cityscape of Catyn. “Oh, look! The light show! It’s starting.”

He looked towards the cityscape of Catyn, and above it, giant, colorful holograms were lightning up the night sky. Everyone got out of their chairs, then began to lean against the railing to get a better look. He and Tali followed and did the same.

As the light show went on, he wrapped one arm around Tali’s waist and held her close. Tali returned the gesture, melting in his embrace and leaning her head on his shoulder.

A warm, blissful sensation bloomed in his chest. Ah, yes, with the Khai’Rothians no longer a threat, and with the Reapers now a distant memory, galactic civilization was finally on the cusp of a new golden age. Now, everyone could finally enjoy the tomorrow they had fought so hard to forge. And whilst that tomorrow had cost so many lives, and the galaxy was not – and never would be – perfect, he would not trade his situation for anything.

Indeed, he had given his lifemate many decades of good memories and had accomplished nearly everything he had hoped to achieve. Now, his life was perfect. And whenever his time came to join the ancestors…

He would have no regrets.

THE END