Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Javik gazed down at his reflection in the flat basin, then submerged his hands into the cool water. "One must have clean hands before reading another being.”

Shepard bounced on her toes, grinning as she looked on.

Javik held his arms out and let her hamster scamper into his cupped hands. “Now, little mouse, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Shepard corrected him. “He’s a hamster, not a mouse, Javik.”

“Shhh!”

Javik glowered at the tiny creature. The hamster shivered and looked back with glistening eyes.

“He says…. ‘Squeak squeak, squeak squeak squeaker squeak squeak.’”

“Damn it Javik!”

Chapter Text

Joker sits slouched at a table in Purgatory, his wrist swirling an empty glass in mindless circles.

Purgatory. An appropriate name considering they’re all going to die soon. Or at least that’s what the pessimist in him wants to scream. There is no purification of souls going on here. No, these people are all dancing and drinking without a care in the world, behaving like fools, or worse, knowing what’s coming and choosing to ignore it. None of this is helping his motivation to ask EDI to dance. 

Fuck it, better to die a happy idiot than a sad loser. 

Chapter Text

“Bakara! BAKARAAAAA!”

“What?”

“Please, don't leave me…”

“I'm sorry, Wrex…I have to go. I can't stay.”

“But Bakara, how will I go on without you? How will I survive….”

“You'll be ok, Wrex, I promise. You're a proud krogan Battle Master, aren't you? You've commanded hordes of blood thirsty men, you've traveled the breadth of the galaxy, you united the clans when no one else could.”

“So…?”

“You can handle a few children.”

“A FEW?! I’m outnumbered 30 to 1!”

“Listen, I have to go, I'm late for the party. Girl’s night out waits for no one. Byeee!”

“BAKARAAAAAAAA!!!”

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“Ugh, this thing is chafing the shit out of me today.” Jack ran a finger under the the side of her bra to relieve pressure.

Legion peered down, his photoreceptor whirring as he focused on Jack’s chest. “Leather straps unlikely to provide adequate support for human mammaries.”

“Fuck off Legion. Don’t you need to join your robo-commune somewhere or something?”

“Comfort and support may be achieved with more pliable materials. A cloth brace may be more suitable. Your diminutive chest size suggests the cloth need not be thick.”

Jack narrowed her eyes. “Did you just…insult me?”

“No data available.”

Chapter Text

Blending into the background had its obvious benefits, but sometimes it hurt. A lot.

Kasumi recalled a particular day she had been making her rounds of the Normandy. She was fully cloaked, stretched across Miranda's extra wide bed and luxuriating in its bespoke silk sheets. Shepard spoke with Miranda as they walked in.

"I don't know what to do with her. She's obsessed with this Keiji. It's unhealthy," Shepard complained.

"If it doesn't affect the mission, she can go on loving a ghost. It makes no difference.”

"And after that?”

“She’s already a ghost herself, Shepard. Let sleeping ghosts lie.”

Chapter Text

Tali waltzed into the lounge, pillow and blanket in hand, ready for a cozy movie night. EDI, strangely, was seated at the bar, an empty glass resting in her hand.

“Oh, EDI…what are you doing there?”

“I am reviewing my socialization protocols.”

“Don’t mind me then, I’m just here to watch the new Fleet and Flotilla vid, Rainbow’s Gravity. Have you seen it?”

“Running it through secondary processing now.”

"Wow, wish I could live vids in my head. It could be sweet, like a long forgotten dream…" Tali said wistfully.

“Or a nightmare. I do not recommend horror films.”

Chapter Text

nar Rayya—
She smooths the folds of her hood
where the wrinkles have formed
The excision
Of treason
Is a delicate thing.

Her thighs throb with the thrum of
The ramshackle ship
where she was born,
(Cleanliness is an inheritance you cannot refuse)
and where her mother,
spoiled and frangible
Let herself loose upon the grandeur of space

Today, the crimes of a father
Cannot run
roughshod
Over the sparks in her eyes—
Brilliance
Building, and breaking
Making new again
the circuitry of creation and creator alike

vas Normandy—
The diffident girl,
a long, cast memory
Her sparks flare
Fervidly

Chapter Text

Kaidan tugged gently at a branch and brought it down toward Miranda. “Here, try one of these.”

With a delicate twist, she plucked a single cherry. She parted her lips and set it between her teeth, pinching the stem as it hung from her mouth.

Raising an eyebrow, Kaidan crossed his arms and waited. “So, are you gonna eat that or what?”

Miranda shook her head.

“Well, at our orchard, we don’t let fruit go to waste.”

He stepped toward her and cradled her face in his hands. Lips nearly touching hers, he stole the sweet fruit from her mouth.

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Thane passes through the threshold in one fluid stride. No movement, no energy is wasted when he is in motion. Without speaking, he takes his place at Shepard’s side. The men absorb the light of the stars. Only a thin window separates them from the fathomless sea, much as life is separated from death by a silvery thread. Thane asks Shepard to close his eyes, and he offers a short prayer.

 Kalahira, keeper of the tides,
 You have lapped at our feet
 Your mercy is as boundless as your waters
 We will be ready when you may wash us away.

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KEI-9 wasn’t the most interesting of dog-mechs. It couldn’t play fetch, follow commands, or haul things around the shuttle bay. A useless hunk of metal. But it was always around, and James had taken a shine to it like it was his own pet.

“I used to have a dog, growing up—Brutus. A big ol’ drooly Rottweiler. He looked pretty intimidating, so people were real scared of him. But he was the biggest softie. He’d always cuddle up with me at naptime.”

KEI-9 tilted its head up at James and made a buzzing noise.

“Don’t even think about it.”

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“Hi there, friend!” Shepard set her trowel down.

“Ahhh! What is THAT??”

“This?” She picked up the earthworm and dangled it front of Garrus. It wriggled, trying to find its way back to damp cover.

“YES! Get it out of my face!!”

“It’s just a worm, Garrus. It isn’t going to hurt you. They’re a sign that the soil here is healthy. They help things grow.”

“Put it back, then! Yech!”

“Tali and spiders, and you with the worms. Duly noted.” Shepard smirked. “It’s a good thing my parents aren’t around. You wouldn’t have lasted a day on the farm.”

Chapter Text

“You think that’s impressive? Watch this, Shepard!” 

Grunt tilted the hefty log onto its end and leaned it against his shoulder. Then, bending his knees, he hoisted the bottom into his palms and began to walk. He broke into a lumbering run, his thick legs burning as he struggled to keep the log upright. He wanted to make his commander proud. He launched the log into the air and watched as it landed on its opposite end and toppled down in a perfect, arcing line.

“Heh heh heh. Awesome, right?”

“Wow, Grunt, I think you just invented a new sport!”

Chapter Text

Steve and James are working late into the night to prepare for what could be their last mission. In less than twelve hours, they’re headed to London—all armaments and shuttles need to be ready and faultless. Steve wedges an access panel back into place and wipes his brow with the back of his hand. He leans against the Kodiak, his eyes glassy with tears.

James leans next to Steve and crosses his arms. “Feeling nervous, Esteban?”

“Just thinking about everything I'm fighting for.” Steve wipes his cheek.

James nods, knowingly.

“Earth. Our friends. Robert. Everyone.”

“For everyone…and everything.”

Chapter Text

Miranda tied the red, silk scarf around her neck in an expertly knotted loop. Something about the vivid color set against her dark hair made Kaidan’s heart skip.

“Thank you, I love it.”

“It suits you. You could fit right in on the streets of Paris.”

Flipping the scarf up playfully, Miranda added, “Je pense que je tombe amoureuse de toi...”

Kaidan’s face wrinkled as his translator failed. He should have known what it meant, but it had been years since he had taken French in school. “Come again?”

Miranda whispered slowly, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

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Romance had never figured into the equation for Shepard. She moved too much, on missions in the hinterlands and frontiers of the galaxy. There wasn't time or energy to invest in the messy business of relationships. Uncomplicated friends with benefits was the best it got.

Now she found herself at a crossroads. The bit of fun she had proposed—with a valued turian squadmate—was quickly turning into a headlong dive. She feared soon she would be flailing, struggling to keep afloat with her equally clueless partner. But then again, Shepard always did like throwing herself in the deep end.

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Into the past—
Past the atrium where sunlight broke in through fissures 
Past the arena where children fought to keep their lives 
Past the morgue where their bodies were taken, spent and broken
Past the two-way mirror that hid a girl yearning to be seen
Past the console that revealed the ugly truth
Past the man who survived but lost himself
Past the bed that held me down
Past the table that saw my tears
Past the wall where I made my first kill
Past the cell that held me in
Rid of the past that wanted to break me

Chapter Text

Shepard shook the jar, the bolts inside rattling with a brassy clink.

“I swear to god, Shepard, if you shake that fucking jar one more time…” Jack thrust her fist in front of Shepard’s face; her knuckles gave off a faint blue glow.

Shepard grinned. “Another bolt in the jar. NOW.”

“Bitch!”

“TWO bolts.”

Shepard unscrewed the jar. Jack rolled her eyes hard and placed two bolts from the hardware bin inside.

“I’m going to be shhhhhhhhh-oot broke because of you.”

“One curse, one bolt. One hundred credits for every bolt! Remember, you’re doing this for the kids.”

“Yeah, yeah!”

Chapter Text

“Wow. Uh, so Kaidan made things pretty awkward, am I right?”

“You’re surprised? Everyone thought I was dead.” Shepard rubbed the back of her neck. “And any way you slice it, we’re working with the bad guys.”

“Yeah, but the bad guys have a new Normandy. And an actual chef on board!” 

Joker’s barely contained giddiness was beginning to concern her. “Just window dressing, Joker. Let’s remember what we’re really doing here.”

“Scoring free drinks?” he said facetiously.

“No. We’re here to annihilate the Reapers. And if that means I have to dance with the devil himself, so be it.”

Chapter Text

Shepard hissed in pain as she peeled away her arm plate and rolled the sleeve back. An angry welt had erupted at the armor’s juncture.

“That’s gonna need something. It looks weepy,” said Garrus. He retrieved the medical kit from her locker and dug around. “You ought to change your pads, they’re beyond worn.”

“I know. I haven’t because procurement’s been so unreliable. I don’t want leave the team in a lurch.”

“And what about you? Who’s going to take care of you?” 

 She smiled.“You?”

He dabbed a spot of ointment on her elbow and winked. “Got your six.”

Chapter Text

“Working. Yes, always working. Salarian nature fleeting. No time for leisure.

Sacrifice of one for the many? Absolutely necessary. Prevent widespread suffering. No time for idle ruminations. Regrets not useful. Study. Learn. Make best decision with information at hand. All else superfluous.

Not likely Mordin Solus will be remembered. But hope work will go on. Will have lasting impact on galaxy. What matters most. Not individual. Not group. Not glory or reputation. But good that came from existence. Fight for life in universe.

Effective genophage cure nearly done. Hope you will find it useful, Shepard. All up to you now.”

Chapter Text

The smell of burning vegetation marries with the noxious fumes of machinery to inflame Shepard’s throat. She coughs violently, and Garrus puts a hand on her back to comfort her. 

She’s brought back to that day on Mindoir: unfurling from the cupboard, only to see the fields and the outbuildings burning, the fuel cells erupting into fifty foot flames, her family’s legacy vanishing with it all. How many will lose everything today? How many will survive?

James signals toward an oncoming wave of banshees and marauders. Shepard is frozen in place.

“Circe, we need to move!” Garrus urges her along.

Chapter Text

Thane slips into the observation deck. Already seated on the floor, Samara senses his presence and turns her eyes toward the door. He bows his head at her; she politely nods back. 

There are no words that need be uttered. No looks exchanged. The hardships of these sober warriors are shared in silence—the necessity of sacrifice, the renunciation of a normal life, the estrangement from a beloved child. 

The loneliness inherent in their livelihoods.

Flaring his coattails behind him in a soft wave, Thane takes a seat, the deep well of his dark eyes gazing out into boundless space.

Chapter Text

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Anderson raised his voice, his hands knotted in fists by his sides. “You still doubt her?” 

“I don’t doubt she’s a capable officer—she’s getting results, after all—I doubt her fanciful story. It sounds ludicrous, don’t you think? Mystical visions? ‘Reapers?’ Maybe her past traumas have finally caught up with her.” Ambassador Udina shook his head.

“You know just as well as I do—her psych eval was clean.”

“Was,” Udina said pointedly.

Grunting, Anderson chose to let the snide remark slide. “Well, we can let the Council decide for themselves.”

“Of course…a little contrition couldn’t hurt either.”

Chapter Text

Garrus, eyes closed, laid back in the tall grass, the hot inland sun sizzling his plates. Something fuzzy brushed against his nose. He swatted at his face.

 "Shepard, your hair. It's tickling me again. And spirits, what did you eat today? Your breath is downright…unpleasant."

"ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?" she yelled from the water.

Confused, he opened his eyes. A flaccid, pink tongue lolled above him.

"AAAAAAAH!"

Shepard's wicked cackle carried across the lakeshore. "That's just Charlie, the neighbor's dog! He's friendly!"

Garrus sat up and held his hand out to the black fluff ball. "Sorry, big guy."

Chapter Text

Castis watches her from the window. She’s puttering about the herb garden, talking to stalks of stanum like dear friends; she’s spent a lot of time here since resigning from the university.

It devastates Castis to see his wife lose the thing she prides herself on—that clever, flashing flame. He always believed she was the reason their children were bright. While no slack himself, she outshone him by most measures; he knew it, and he loved it.

Bellona spies him, then waves with a bundle in her hand. He waves back, his heart light and heavy all at once.

Chapter Text

The music swells into a swirl of confident brass and strings as Shepard approaches the stage. It’s been ten years since her last public speech. Last time, she had shocked the audience—and the world—with a very disturbing breakdown. To describe the ordeal as ‘embarrassing’ was entirely too light.

Shepard’s slippery fingers grip the edges of the podium as she forces a smile. Everyone is expecting her to give a grand statement for today’s peace ceremony. When the music stops, all eyes look upon her expectantly. She falters at first, but her husband’s proud expression gives her renewed confidence. 

Chapter Text

"Park your ass right there, mister." Jack pointed to the bench next to Citadel Souvenirs. "Now stay there until Shepard gets back!"

Grunt grumbled. "Yeah, yeah, yeah…"

"Not sure why she thinks asking me to keep you in line is a good idea, but whatever. Maybe one too many blows to the head."

"Shopping is so BORING. Hey, wanna go 'play' in the Presidium lake?"

"Shepard's gonna kill me if I let you out of my sight."

"Who says I'll be outta yer sight? We'll be together, won't we?"

"You have a point."

"WOO! Party at the lake! LET'S GO!"

Chapter Text

Wrex's upper lip flared into a snarl. “How about some nice, charbroiled salarian for dinner? I’d savor every crunch from your wimpy bones, then pick my teeth clean with them when I was done!”

“No need for violence. Just need you to hold still. Please. For your safety.” Mordin’s hand hovered above Wrex’s thigh as he clutched a large, hollow needle. “If you like, closing eyes best. Out of sight, out of mind. Think of fellow krograns.”

“FINE. But only because you asked nicely.” Trembling, Wrex shut his eyes tight.

Mordin grinned. “See! Easy. Already over.”

“THAT HURT, YOU BASTARD!”

Chapter Text

The shuttle juddered as it took off into the planet's turbulent atmosphere.

Ashley’s eyes fell on her CO, who appeared pale and wan. "Commander? Everything alright?"

Shepard, sitting perfectly motionless with her head hung down, nodded slowly.

Kaidan looked at Ashley and held a finger to his lips. He shook his head. He had learned early on that when Shepard got quiet, it meant she was in severe pain. Without saying a word, he placed a hand on Shepard's back and stood firm.

She titled her head up—her hair stringy and slick with sweat—and gave him a small, grateful smile. 

Chapter Text

Eddies of smoke coiled around Jack’s face. “How are you doing that here? That dumb AI rats me out every time.”

“Simple. I muck with the local sensors,” Zaeed mouthed around his cigar.

“Shit, here comes queen of the girl scouts.”

“What she don’t know won’t hurt ‘er. She’ll turn a blind eye. Watch.” Zaeed snuffed his cigar on the bottom of his shoe and hid it behind his back. 

He up-nodded as Shepard passed, and she nodded back, walking toward the elevator. 

“Not in the hall, Zaeed.”

Jack sucked through her teeth. “Killjoy! You’re worse than EDI.”

Chapter Text

“Wow…” Ashley sipped her coffee, then glanced up from her datapad. “Hey Commander, have you been reading the extranet lately?”

“Me? No time for that. Most of it is garbage anyway.” She smacked loudly as she hurried to finish her meal before afternoon muster.

“Rumor is the Council is blaming the geth for the attack on the Citadel. This is worse than a full cover-up. It’s death by negligence.”

Shepard rolled her eyes and threw her fork to the table. “You sure as shit bet they’re going to hear from me about it. Blame the geth? Over my dead body.”

Chapter Text

“More Reaper goons were closing in, so I climbed up a slab of concrete, hoping it’d be a good perch for picking them off. I was nearly at the top when my boot slipped. I grabbed a piece of rebar, tight, and threw my rifle to the top. As I climbed up after it, I heard the screeching. There was a banshee across the street. I didn’t have time to line up my shot. Then, out of nowhere, here comes Vega, barreling between me and the banshee. He says “EAT THIS!” and lobs a grenade at it. That brave bastard.”

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There was a cool, easy grace in the way she held a fork, even a glass. Kaidan had never quite mastered polite elegance—what fork goes where and what you eat with it—but he was a quick study, and he would be willing to learn if it made Miranda happy. 

She, of course, laughed at his suggestion. Who the hell cared about that kind of thing anymore? But it was sweet that he wanted to try for her. 

It was better to be themselves. That was how they always got along best. A calm, collected, loyal kind of love.

Chapter Text

Kaidan frowned as Miranda readied her pistol.

“Oh, don’t pout. Our jobs have always been dangerous, Kaidan. That’s the nature of the beast.”

“Then can’t we maybe…tame the beast a little? You know, make friends with it? So it isn’t so dangerous?”

Miranda cocked an eyebrow. “That’s a terrible metaphor.”

“Fair enough,” he said, laughing. “I just want to stop worrying.”

“Then don’t. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course. But I love you—that’s the problem.”

“I see,” she said gravely. “In that case, we’ll both just have to suffer.”

“What, why?”

“Because I love you too.”

Chapter Text

They say it’s a mistake to bring the geth aboard. Is it crazy? Perhaps a decision wrung through her exhaustion addled mind. She’s running on the vapors of Cerberus issued stims, on thin wisps and slags of adrenaline.

This AI, this sentient raft of metal and cables, spoke her name; she suspects the N7 plastered across its chest is something more than a ‘convenient field repair’. But if this unit can help them, she will risk the consequences. Because it’s a one way trip to hell on the back of Hades’ guard dog, and only the Collectors can stop them now. 

Chapter Text

"No. No…this can't be right. I'm her! Aren't I?” The soldier scans the document again, this time slower, her dry lips parted into a stupefied whorl. 

For a moment, Maya wonders if she's pushed her too far. The moment doesn’t last. There is a certain delight in seeing a lab rat squirm, and Maya’s doll-like eyes gleam with conceit.

The soldier’s cheeks glaze over with tears. “I'm just…a spare?” 

“I suppose you could look at it that way,” says Maya derisively. “But when something loses its usefulness, what’s left to do but replace it? You’re Jane Shepard now.”

Chapter Text

There’s a hole in the ground. It’s deeper and wider than anything a human can make on their own. A hole that swallowed fifty Marines. Their love and their hate and their messiness—everything they’d ever been—wasting in the gut of an indiscriminate beast.

There is only one survivor. She sits slumped in the dark against a boulder, helmet rolled on its side against her bloodied knee. She’s too shocked to shout or cry. When twelve minutes pass, she pushes herself off the ground, wretched and weary, and limps toward the landing zone. She alone will tell their story.

Chapter Text

“Goodnight, Little Wing. I will see you again with the dawn…”

Liara gasped. Her eyes shot open, her body perfectly supine and motionless in the spartan Alliance berth. 

She had seen her mother, Benezia, dressed in her favorite yellow bolero—the one with the rolled lapel that skimmed her décolletage—standing at the top of the stairs, statuesque and prideful. She was smiling. The Rachni Queen was shrieking. The perfect hope of yellow against cold, blue skin—one opposite the other in a high-strung display of power. 

I miss you, mother.
 
If only that yellow had pushed out the blue.

Chapter Text

 Garrus stretches to turn off the light but is blocked by a swift, upswept arm.

“Don’t. I’m almost done.”

“You’ve done enough. Go to bed, Shepard.”

“I’ve just got one more.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

She frowns. “There’s a lot riding on this.”

“One less hour of work isn’t going to make or break this war. There’s no deadline.” He grazes a talon across her cheek. “You’re no good to anyone if you don’t get rest.”

She sighs and smiles weakly, and sets the datapad on the nightstand. 

“Goodnight, Garrus.” 

The room goes black.

“Goodnight, my fearless warrior.”

Chapter Text

Tali began to strip the wires clean, the lights above her flickering sporadically as the ship groaned.

“Are you done yet?” whispered Garrus.

“No! And stop hovering, will you? I can’t see a thing…”

“Not my fault the light’s busted.”

When she got enough clean lead, she twisted the ends together and soldered the join.

“That should do it.”

“You’re sure this is going to work?”

“No, but it’ll buy Shepard time. And if we buy Shepard time, we buy us time.”

He nodded approvingly. “Practical. Smart. That’s why we’re friends.”

“Right…”—Tali shrank and stared at her feet—“…friends.”

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun throbbed close, but Nihlus was unbothered as he pointed his rifle through a gap in the outcrop. He peered through his scope—no sight of the justicar. They’d been tracking each other for almost two weeks when the trail ran cold. It was a stupid thing to waste his time on, but it was matter of principle now. She was just as stubborn as he was. And besides, he was having fun. 

The rattle of pebbles caught his ear. He wheeled on his heel. A flash of red slid behind a boulder. 

Well done, my clever minx.

Chapter Text

Omega was a godforsaken place. Even its bowels coursed with the pungence of pirates and outlaws, thugs and mercenaries, riff-raff and dross, and Aria T’Loak, self-styled Queen of Omega, kept watch over them all.

In her nest atop Afterlife, she watched her number two hustle up the stairs.

“Bray!” She snapped her fingers at the gasping batarian. “Update on Gozu District?”

“We have bigger things to worry about.”

“Like?”

“Cerberus has overrun the docking bay. They’re headed this way.”

Aria snatched the trusty shotgun tucked under seat.

“Gather a welcome party. We’re gonna give ‘em a greeting they’ll never forget.”

Chapter Text

The ominous pounding of the room had jerked her awake. Over a tempest of gunfire, a woman’s voice demanded that she grab a pistol. “This facility is under attack.”

Shepard took the gun and the armor as she was told. 

Now, she’s crouching as a fusillade of instructions blares over the intercom. She follows them blindly. Who is this woman? Where the hell is she? 

But there’s no time to think about answers: a jacked-up mech is headed her way. If her count is correct, she’s got one round left—one shot between understanding and suffering a strange, immaterial death. 

Chapter Text

Often, in the night, Shepard’s eyes stay open, half-lidded and hazy. She sees all kinds of things in the dark: old ghosts, towers in flames, the Normandy’s wreckage falling past.

Tonight, she sees David. He’s naked and invaded. Her stomach turns. How a person could do that to anyone—to someone they call brother—evades her. But the villain of the story had the nerve to call it a ‘difficult decision’. 

No. Choosing yourself is the easiest thing in the world.

It comforts her to know that David is free. But does he forgive Gavin? She knows she never can.

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The new girl looks a little nervous. Truth be told, he feels nervous too. It’s his first week as the only turian aboard, but at least there’s another dextro now. Too bad she’s vegan. Can’t even buy a crate of meat to split on shore leave.

Garrus clears his throat. “So…first time living on a human ship, huh?”

Tali peeks up from the thing that looks like a straw and stares.

Her silence is too much to bear; he looks down at his plate. Maybe his elevator talk about quarians had upset her a little. Too bad he’s right.

Chapter Text

Shepard grunted. The team ducked for cover, and a round nipped past her arm like the sting of defeat made manifest. 

No, they hadn’t lost yet. Still thirty seconds and only one dummy bomb left to diffuse. If they succeeded, they would be the last three Ns to pass muster.

With the smoke of another team’s failure still in the air, she signaled for Payne and Alves to flank her. She sang “Happy Birthday” exactly once as she bolted for the ordinance. Ten seconds. Once more. By the third, she’d disabled the bomb. 

Happy Birthday, Jane Shepard. Time to celebrate.

Chapter Text

Blood wept from Dr. Terah’s suit. It pooled beneath her as she lay on the floor, transfixed and in shock.

There was a time when the Geth had been machines—tools operating independently of wielders. But that time was over. The long night had ended, and life emerged to face the dawn; the Creators’ reckoning was upon them.

Her breath hitched. “We…we must shut them down, now!” 

“There are too many!” The assistant’s fingers fumbled for the right keys. “I can’t override them!” 

It was too late. The platforms had breached the door. A legion of silvered reapers loomed.

Chapter Text

“Aren’t you a little young to be a lieutenant?” barks the grizzled captain. “I’ve got dirt on my boot older than you, sweetheart!”

Shepard scowls. This high-as-a-kite dickwad nearly crashes his cargo run, sends out an SOS, and needles the person rescuing him? The utter fucking idiocy. 

“You oughta buy a new pair shoes then, hmm? In the meantime, you’re gonna have to swallow your pride or get the hell off my ship.” 

Eyes fallen to his feet, the captain clears his throat.“Sorry, ma’am.”

“I might be young, but I’ve seen things you can hardly imagine. Now let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The mound of his father’s turned back was colder than any ice-capped continent he’d ever set foot on.

It was enough that he’d given up his dream school, or that his father had balked at his interest in painting. But at least he could chalk that up to parenting, to the unflagging vigilance a father has for his young.

Now, Garrus was a grown man and a competent soldier by his own right. If he wanted to become a Spectre, what business did Castis have in stopping him? 

“Dad, I—”

“We’re done here.” 

His chill had become a hard freeze.

Chapter Text

Vacant, bloodshot eyes gazed up at the ceiling of the darkened apartment. Garrus knelt down and felt for a pulse. Nothing.

Whoever killed the dancer had left no mark of their work. To an ordinary person, it appeared a natural death, but he had seen the signs of foul play: two drinks on the table—one full, one empty; the rumpled sheets that still smelled of sweat and bodies; and three freshly broken fingernails on the asari’s right hand.

“Sidonis,” he muttered into the comms. “I’m sorry. But I need you here, now.”

Someone on Omega had killed their informant.

Chapter Text

“Shepard, who’s the cheese-wedge-headed dick in your lounge?”

“You mean Javik? He’s the last Prothean in existence. Found him trapped in a box on Eden Prime.”

“Well put him back! He keeps trying to touch me. Fucking perv!”

“Thaaat’s his way of getting to know you, Jack. Protheans can read through touch.”

“He can get to know me when I punch a hole through his throat...”

“Listen, I know you’re upset, but please—don’t? You might violate an endangered species act or something. Let me talk to him.”

“Fine. But if he doesn’t behave, he gets it. Capiche?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Chapter Text

Young Kolyat cried out, flinging his book across the room.

“What's wrong, son?” Thane asked gently. 

The glowing eyes of a Rachni stared out from the page as he picked the book up from the floor. Clapping it shut, he lowered himself next to Kolyat. 

“You need not fear. It’s only a picture, after all. It can’t hurt you.”

Kolyat searched his father’s face. “You’re not scared?”  

“Not of this, no.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

Thane’s eyes darkened. There was only one thing he feared. 

“Don’t worry yourself. Just know I will always be here to protect you.”

Chapter Text

Extinguish a flame. Smother its wild glow until it fades into smoke and steam. But you can’t stop fire from burning. Unseen, deep in the ground. Where there is oxygen left to feed it, it will smolder for years in secret.

* * *

Heat climbs up his limbs when Kaidan catches the glint of Shepard’s copper-tinged hair. She looks sickly in Horizon’s sallow light, but she’s alive. Shepard is alive.

He falters, and flames threaten to consume him from the inside out. Passion has turned to conflagration at the mention of a name.

Cerberus.

Someone else will need to sort her out.

Chapter Text

Grunt: It’s time to find out once and for all…do turians float?

Garrus: You’re kidding, right?

Grunt: What’s wrong, Garrus? You scared?

Garrus: No, I just think this is a stupid idea.

Grunt: Don’t worry, Shepard will save you if you start drowning. Right, Shepard?

Shepard: Why are you bringing me into this?

Mordin: Advise against this. Experiment parameters undefined.

Garrus: That water is, what, a meter deep? How am I supposed to float in that?

Grunt: On your back, dummy!

Garrus: Huh?

Grunt shoves Garrus into the fountain

Grunt: Heh, whoops. Write this down, Mordin: TURIANS DON’T FLOAT. 

Chapter Text

Shepard rolled over. The holoclock on the bedside table read 0300.

Its dim, orange light filtered over Garrus’ face, revealing his slightly open mouth. She hovered a finger over one of his barb-like canines. Suddenly, he snorted, and she jerked her hand back, stifling a laugh, and she thought better of poking her finger into a sleeping predator’s mouth. 

These were the moments she craved. The spontaneous, or even ordinary moments. Playing house in Anderson’s apartment (no, her apartment) had given her a welcome distraction, but there was no denying the reality: she might not ever have the chance again.

Chapter Text

Sulphorous slashes of red and orange singed the spiraling towers of a faraway city. A smile slithered across Kasumi’s lips. The painting had attracted her attention the moment they’d entered Hock’s grand hall.

“No one survived that fire, you know…The Fires of Kasiseus.”

“Pardon?” asked Shepard.

“That’s the title. True story too.” Kasumi scoffed. “Great art should be shared—appreciated—not locked away in some rich guy’s château. Don’t you think?”

“I guess?”

“Whaddaya say we…liberate it?”

Shepard checked for eavesdroppers before whispering again. “You mean steal?”

“Only a matter of words! You say steal, I say…repatriate.”

Chapter Text

“You need to carry her,” barked Garrus.

Cut off from all exits but one, James draped Shepard across his shoulders. 

“DOOOOON’T! Put me down, you oaf!”

“Commander, we need to evacuate ASAP.” He rounded the corner with Garrus following, who stopped to cover them. “Stop squirming, would ya?!

“I’m… I’m fi…” she sputtered weakly. “I’m fine…”

“Lola, you are not fine. There’s a helluva lot of blood gushing from your face, and I’m pretty sure you got a nasty concussion.” There was a gurgle near his ear.  “Aaaaaand you’re vomiting on me. Fuck!”

“Worry about that later, Vega! Let’s move.”

Chapter Text

What is power? Some might say it’s a warm Mattock cradled in your hands. Or flinging an enemy with the flick of your finger. Perhaps mere blows. Still, others would tell you that power is dominion: controlling lands, worlds. To amass riches and material goods as protection.

But they’re all wrong. 

You don’t need riches or weapons. Only the willingness to use tools you already have. Your confidence, your allure, and the promise of mystery can coax almost anyone to your side.

When a person submits to you of their own free will—that is true power. Power is rapture. 

Chapter Text

Expecting to maintain a relationship as an N7 is a recipe for heartbreak as far as Shepard is concerned. You give yourself—body and soul—to the Alliance. Whatever’s leftover gets divided, an infinitesimal resource, precious and delicate. Who will you give that to? Can you part with it?

Too many times, she’s heard of lovers growing resentful of the job’s demands. It’s why some Ns end up sleeping with each other, casually. But that gets too messy for her liking, and one night stands or brothels aren’t much fuel to go on. Better to go it alone, she concludes.

Chapter Text

Garrus swaggers down the stairs of the squad’s base, his arms thrown out wide in a triumphant gesture. “Make way, gentleman!”

“What’s got you all juiced up?” asks Erash, looking up from his biotiball game.

“I’ve just accomplished something no one else ever has: I’ve united the gangs of Omega. Please, no applause. Though, I think I deserve something for that, don’t you?”

“Say…if you turn yourself in, you think they’ll pony up the credits fer yer corpse?” Butler cackles wickedly.

“There’s a bounty out on me?” Garrus asks, smirking. “Better be a lot or I might feel insulted.”

Chapter Text

The hairline split that had developed in the lid of the tank was so imperceptible that no one had noticed anything was wrong. A light on the control panel was flashing red. Not even the drip, drip, drip, of fluid at its base had alerted them. But Miranda, Shepard, and Garrus were debating the merits of taking in Okeer’s prized warrior, and their cool voices masked any sound in the enormous room.

The sudden crack of glass surprised them. Their heads whipped around. There, in the far corner of the lab, another forbidding krogan tumbled from its tank and coughed.

Chapter Text

Jack’s stomach turns. So they want her on a tight leash? To treat her like their hunting animal? Fine. Sure. Why the fuck not. 

She raps on the window to make sure he’s watching. 

Wild-eyed and sharp-tongued, she swears and spits and gnashes her teeth, claws at the balding man behind the glass, yowls like a starved varren. But the pirate only blinks at her. He turns away. Like all the others, he pretends she isn’t there.

Bitter bile rises into Jack’s mouth; it tastes of isolation and regret. She has learned, yet again, not to trust in any promise. 

Chapter Text

“Thanks for keeping me company,” Tali rasped.

The Commander looked up from his datapad and patted her thigh. “Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”

The last time Tali was this sick, she’d contracted Toshnir disease from a contaminated rations packet aboard the Rayya. A third of the crew fell ill, but it was the children who suffered most. Her mother could only look on for risk of catching it herself; they both cried enough tears to fill the ship’s cistern.

“You don’t know how much your comfort means.” 

“Any time, Tali.”

She squeezed his hand and rallied a grateful smile.

Chapter Text

The stooped gentleman behind the counter smiled. “So, what are your plans now? A warm, tropical vacation? A little R&R at home?”

“Home?” Shepard stared back blankly. “Not sure I know where that is now.”

The clerk rubbed his jaw. “Well, I’d say it’s the place you find refuge in. The place that comforts you most.”

Shepard shrugged. That would be the Normandy, but it wasn’t her ship anymore. She grabbed her shopping and turned to see a tall figure filling the doorway.

“Hey, gorgeous. All done?” 

“Yep. Let’s go.”

“Where to?”

Shepard took Garrus’ hand and squeezed. “Home.”

Chapter Text

NOTE TO SELF:
It isn’t a question of grit.

All the willpower in the universe can’t stop beings who, existing from time immemorial, achieve domination through harvesting life like we would stalks of wheat in a field.

The resolve to choose: suffering on your right or brutality on your left. Calculation and sacrifice. That’s what you’re left with. Deciding which hand may wield the weapon, and deciding which will bring blows to your enemy.

There are no feel-good, satisfying choices, Shepard. Moral certitude? That’s a trinket for the future. One you many only wear when we win this impossible war.

Chapter Text

“Tell me, Admiral…” said Kaidan, pinching the stem of his glass. “Being such a man yourself, what do you think makes a successful officer?”

Admiral Hackett wiped his mouth and set his napkin down. “Success as an officer means adopting a must-do attitude. You say what needs to be said. You do what needs to be done—even if no one likes it. And let me tell you…”—he smiled wryly—“they won’t like it.” 

“We may not have liked it, but we knew it was good for us,” added Shepard. “You’ll be sorely missed, sir.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Captain.”

Chapter Text

Another 20 seconds until recharge. Can’t burn out. Can’t miss. His life depends on it, on me. On these shutters closing. Blood Pack’s pouring out like water—quick, slippery bastards. Gotta get the timing right. Like that old saying: let it glow, let it flow. 20 seconds are up. GOT THAT MOTHERFUCKER! Jesus, that stings.

Readings nominal. A hair’s breadth from losing him. Hang on, big guy. Please, just hang on, for fuck’s sake. Miranda’s covering the east side. We’re almost there. It’s only a door. One more door. One door between dying or living.

I promise: we’ll save you.

Chapter Text

In the lounge, Joker finds Garrus and Legion glued to the screen. 

“Ooooh, Galaxy of Fantasy?” 

“Damn! This bastard keeps healing!” barks Garrus.

“Bah, just give up now. The Prothean Overlord is unbeatable at your level.” 

Legion’s photoreceptor whirs quietly. “Based on all available data, there is a 98.25% probability of failure.” 

“Legion, do me a favor? Never tell me the odds.” Garrus growls under his breath, “I’ll destroy this boss if it’s the last thing I do.”

Just then, the screen fades to deep red.

“Our prediction was correct.”

“This is why you’re not invited to poker night.”

Chapter Text

It was hard to take the guy seriously. Everything about him should have scared anyone: the flinty spines atop his head, the rabble of nettled teeth jutting from his mouth, his devilish red eyes. Even his thick hide was a warning. But his spare words, sputtered through saliva, erased any threat implied by his appearance.

“NO! You no go here, hu-man!”

Unamused, Shepard smacked her lips. “You’re going to let me through.”

The vorcha’s eyes shone with a dim thought. “Pay first!” he hissed.

“Pay? Sure, I’ll pay.” She grinned and coiled her fingers tightly. “Got your payment right here.”

Chapter Text

A growl building in his throat. A snarl on his lips. But there is no gun in his hand.

He is stupidly exposed.

Wrex fixes his gaze on Jarrod, who stands at the top of the stairs, and all around them, the skulls of their ancestors, bleached and burled, keep their vigil over the Hollows. Empty sockets full of judgment.

The scratch of grit on concrete. A blur of movement behind a grave.

He understands now. Knife unsheathed, men at the ready, he’s barreling forward into a future where Krogans may live a life beyond this violence.

His growl escapes.

Chapter Text

By his calculation, Garrus’ chances of winning are 10 to 1. Any tactical error and he’s done for.

He peers around the barricade, his visor’s indicator glowing as it zeroes in on the tip of a boot on the platform above. He may be at a disadvantage, but he’s got a sightline. There’s no letting up now. 

He dashes closer. She dashes farther. And in that split second, all aligns, and he’s sniped her thigh. 

“HAH!” he crows. “Just one more point, and you owe me a drink.”

Shepard’s voice betrays a grin. “One more point and it’s a date.”

Chapter Text

First, there was the terrible, roiling thrum from above. It rattled windows. It rattled signposts and streetlights, somehow coming up through the ground. Then the sky went dark, as if the sun had fainted somewhere behind the horizon.

The chatter in the marketplace stopped. A second of stunned silence passed before people began to scream. They wailed and begged the spirits for mercy; the moment few had prophesied had arrived. 

 Like grisly obelisks, the Reapers towered over the city.

The stutter of turrets resounded from high upon the hills, but their power was too little to save the turians now. 

Chapter Text

Somewhere on Thessia, amongst its proud soaring towers, an enclave of matriarchs speaks in hushed tones.

It is our birthright, they say.

Ours for the keeping.

Our solemn duty, sisters.

They order the temple sealed. Without ceremony, the sacred relics are shut away, kept for all posterity, for the prosperity of their people. They will not understand the consequences of their decision until it is too late. 

And the beautiful goddess Athame, who has always kept them under watchful eye, will look upon them no more, her wisdom and divinity to be lost forever to the wrecking ball of truth. 

Chapter Text

“Breathe”, her father had told her. “And don’t let them find you.”

Those had been his last words. The words she’d heard before he kissed her on the forehead and shut the cupboard door, her world gone dark forever.

Years later, the air is thick with dust. It coats her lungs—a slurry of ash and contaminants, remnants of the heart of the galaxy.

All she can do in the dark is breathe. All you need to do is breathe, she repeats.

Suddenly, a burst of voices breaks through the ruins. A painful sliver of light.

The door has opened.

Chapter Text

Something is terribly wrong. 

I’m floating—above myself, above the cold, above noisome, antiseptic air. But there is only darkness, and my fingers are numb. My limbs don’t move. They’re pinned down, like the iridescent shells of beetles, long hollowed out, on display for a collector’s pleasure.

A thunder shakes the world. It rattles the flyspeck bones of my ears. “This facility is under attack, this facility is under attack…” again and again like a droning mantra.

My eyelids flutter open to dim, orange light.

Where have I been? 

This is my bed. But this is not my body. 

Help.