Salvation: A Half-Life/Mass Effect Universe Fan Fiction

Disclaimer: This fan-fiction takes place after the events of both Half-Life 1 and 2 and its episodes, and jumps to the events after Mass Effect 1 and 2. If you have not played or beaten these games this fiction may not make much sense to you. Characters property of their respective companies, Half-Life created by Valve and Mass Effect created by Bioware.

Chapter 18: Earth 2185

"Sir." A Quarian holding a data pad extended a hand to Shepard, as he walked out of the jetway, off the Normandy. "Velo'Det nar Reezah, Chief Mechanic, at your service. What seems to be the problem with your ship?" His enviro-suit, though not unkempt, was smeared and stained with grease. And he wore a Systems Alliance patch on his shoulder.

"Commander John Shepard." He began, extending his hand, and shaking the Quarian's as he stepped off the jetway, into the massive Starport. "Nice to meet you. You know, I don't see too many Quarians on Earth."

"Heh..." The mechanic began with a chuckle. "Yeah, no kidding. Most Quarians don't venture this far out, unless they're on their pilgrimage. I've been on mine for almost six years now."

"Still haven't found that special something, eh?" Shepard inquired, as his crew slowly started to pour out of the jetway behind him, conversing among themselves, and dispersing into the bustling crowds of the starport.

"I'm not even sure I'm still looking." the Quarian continued, lowering the data pad in his hands. "Got work here six years ago, fixing RT cabs. Before I knew it, I was chief mechanic here at the EVIS. Funny how things work out sometimes." He said, as he chuckled a bit under his helmet.

"But anyway, what's the uh... trouble with your ship?" Velo'Det queried.

"No trouble." Shepard affirmed, shaking his head. "I just need her fuel tank capacity upgraded. Making a rather long trip."

"Okay, no problem." The mechanic replied, looking down, once again at the data pad, inputting some information. "It looks like your crew already knows this, but I am required to inform you that before any work will begin on your vessel, all personnel must be off it."

"Yep." Shepard acknowledged, as the various members of his crew continued to exit the Normandy behind him. "They're clearing out now."

"Alrighty." The Quarian nodded once, lowering his data pad once again. "Well, I'll be back with a maintenance crew once your people have cleared out."

"Understood." Shepard affirmed, nodding. "Thank you." The two shook hands briefly once more, before the Quarian turned, and walked away.

"Hahahaha!" The Commander heard a distinctive cackle echo from the jetway behind him, causing him turn turn around, as the various members of his crew continued to walk out, conversing amongst themselves.

"These Striders you speak of, sound like a fine kill!" Shepard heard Grunt exclaim, as he watched the Krogan come walking out of the jetway, alongside Gordon. "A fitting prize, for a worthy hunter."

"Heh..." Gordon chuckled a bit, as the two walked out of the jetway, a grin on his face. "Well, it was hardly sport. But a fine kill nonetheless, I suppose."

"Battlemaster!" Grunt called out heartily, as they encountered the Commander, standing outside the jetway. "I was regaling our newest of kin with the tale of the thresher maw we slew on Tuchanka."

Grunt pounded his hand, hard on Gordon's back, leaving a stinging sensation, and causing him to stumble forward a bit. "And he in turn, was telling me of mighty, three-legged, metallic beasts, that once roamed the Earth. For a mere human, this one seems to have quads!"

"Thanks..." Gordon uttered, with a pained expression on his face, as he held his shoulder with one hand, rotating it as he tried to shake off the sting. "Glad you think so..."

Gordon looked up, seeing the flutter of activity of the spaceport. Although, the neon lights, and holographic signs everywhere were reminiscent of The Citadel they had just visited. A sensation of pride overcame him, as he saw the people of his planet living normal lives, without the looming, malevolent shadow of the Combine.

"Puhh... So this is Earth?" the Krogan scoffed, as he looked around the spaceport, comprised predominantly of humans. "Seems to be nothing more than a pit of soft, overfed, warm-bloods."

"Battlemaster" Grunt turned to Shepard. "I will take my leave. Perhaps I can find a good meal, and a good fight."

"You behave yourself Grunt." Shepard called out, with his hands on his hips, as the Krogan turned to walk away.

"I see you've met our resident Krogan." Shepard said with a grin, to Gordon, who was still trying to shake off the sting of Grunt's camaraderie. "He seems to have taken a liking to you."

"Yeah..." Gordon began, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I hope so. The last thing I need is someone else on your ship, hating my guts. Especially someone like him..." Gordon looked down, snickering as he shook his head.

"I was wondering, Commander." Gordon continued as he started to look around. "Would it be possible to take a look around, outside? After nearly two centuries, I'm eager to see the Earth again, without ruin."

"Of course, Dr. Freeman." Shepard responded, grinning as he nodded his head. "It'll be a few hours before we can leave, anyway. There's a rapid transit terminal over there." Shepard turned, and pointed at a series of small mounted consoles, as people boarded and left the automated taxis. "Just have one take you to ground level. You know how to make use of the omni-tool."

Gordon nodded contently, as he began to make his way towards the terminals. "Actually..." Shepard interjected, causing Gordon to stop. "Why don't you... take one to the Gordon Freeman Memorial Park. I forgot, it's not too far from here."

Gordon furrowed his brow, and shook his head trying to make sure he had heard correctly. "I'm sorry, say again..." He requested, turning his ear toward The Commander.

"The Gordon Freeman Memorial Park..." Shepard reiterated, with a slick smile. "It's the site where your... quote unquote 'final battle' took place." He remarked, air-quoting with his fingers.

"Wait a minute." Gordon said, pointing down at the floor, as he made a realization. "So this is... We're near White Forest?"

"Well, right around here is where the White Forest compound used to be." The Commander answered. "But the entire city itself adopted the name 'White Forest'."

Gordon shook his head, with an uneasy grin on his face. "What an uncanny coincidence, that I'd end up right back here." He uttered.

"Well, no coincidence, really." Shepard continued his explanation. "EVIS is Earth's primary starport. When the rebuilding began; the first major settlements were established in this area. Before long, it became Earth's largest city, and well... here we are."

"Ah, I understand..." Gordon nodded his head. "Well, it's still rather uncanny. Thank you, Commander. I think I..." Gordon laughed to himself, under his breath, at the notion of a park named after him. "I think I will have a look at this park."

Shepard gave Gordon a slight nod, grinning at him, before turning his attention back to the jetway, making sure everyone was out.

Gordon approached the rapid-transit terminal, pressing the only visible button on it. Within moments, a taxi like the one he had seen on the Citadel, slowly hovered in, touching down before him, and opening its door. Gordon climbed in, and shut the door behind him.

"Please specify destination." A monotonous robotic voice beckoned him.

"The... Gordon Freeman Memorial Park...?" Gordon stated, questioningly. Almost immediately after saying it, the cab lifted up and took off. There was a massive opening, high in the wall, that allowed access, as various cabs traversed into and out of the Eli Vance Intergalactic Star Port.

Gordon shielded his eyes, as a sudden burst of sunlight came pouring in through the windows. Slowly, as his eyes adjusted, he removed his hands and a huge smile overtook his expression. He looked around, in complete awe, his mouth agape as he beheld the Earth of the 22nd century.

His taxi joined a stream of air traffic, as he pressed his hands onto the windows, peering out. There were gigantic advertisements, and holographic billboards everywhere. Even in midst of midday, the city seemed to give off, an almost astral glow. Towering skyscrapers, ascended into the heavens, as his cab weaved in and out of the airborne traffic.

Even though this was where the White Forest compound once stood, any trace of it had long since vanished. Even the geography didn't seem familiar. The entire landscape below him, once completely covered in wilderness, now thrived with gleaming structures of glass and steel. In the distance, however, he could still see mountains splashed against the blue sky, as they cascaded across the horizon.

His smile slowly began to dwindle, as the memories of his past slowly crept up on him. He thought of the hardships, and turmoil that plighted so many. He thought of those that gave their lives willingly, in the hopes that one day their children would know a life without oppression. He thought of the ones he had left behind, in a time that he belonged to. And he thought of her...

After a few minutes, Gordon took his attention away from the window. Sighing, he slouched down into his seat, as the painful memories took hold of him, tearing open old wounds. He didn't even notice the cab pull out of traffic, as it slowly began to descend on its destination below.

"Alyx..." He uttered under his breath. "I'm so sorry..."  Gordon bowed his head, clenching his eyes shut. "Maybe..." He thought to himself, as a familiar knot in his throat made its presence known.  "Maybe we could've..." Gordon placed one hand, over his eyes, pushing his glasses up, toward his forehead.

A slight thud shook the cab, as it touched down near a large, grassy area, supplemented with trees, bushes, and flower gardens, intersected by concrete sidewalks.

"I never even got to tell her..." His mind continued to plague him, the thud not phasing him in the slightest, as the cabs door swung open.

"That will be twenty-nine credits." A monotonous robotic voice declared, momentarily snapping him back to reality.

Gordon held his arm out, cupping his hand to materialize his omni-tool. He examined it on his forearm a moment, before nervously scanning it over the dashboard console, hoping it would work.

"Thank you." The cab's voice acknowledged his payment. "Have a nice day." Gordon released a long, drawn-out sigh, as he stepped out of the vehicle. It's door closed behind him, and its engine slowly started to hum, as it lifted off, and bolted towards its next fare.

Gordon turned and looked into the park. It was enclosed in wrought iron fencing, intermittently interrupted by large stone columns. He stood before a large, steel archway, held up by two large cobblestone pillars. Across the top of the archway, letters welded into the steel spelled out: Gordon Freeman Memorial Park.

Much like the Citadel, Gordon looked into the park and saw a variety of species walking about, carrying on with their daily lives. Children ran around, laughing, as they played tag. Or perhaps it cops and robbers, or maybe even Spectres and Reapers. Couples of various species sat at park benches, feeding pigeons. He noticed a blue skinned woman, like the one he'd seen on the ship, running by in a skimpy jogging outfit.

Gordon sighed lightly, as he slowly walked into the park. The burden of his memories, still weighing heavily on his mind. He placed his hands into is pockets, as he walked, a despondent expression on his face. A cool summer breeze blew past him, ruffling his hair. His slow, rhythmic pace continued as he walked, looking toward the ground, lightly shaking his head at nothing in particular.

"Hey, Nerdo!" A child's shouting caught his attention, as he looked up and around to spot an adolescent boy. He was holding his hands over his face, forming circles around his eyes with his fingers. "Nice Gordon Freeman costume! Not!"

The boy turned to face his two friends, one of which was not a human child; resembling the alien that wanted to ram his head through a table.

"What a freak!" The three cackled and ran away laughing. Gordon looked down at himself, examining his person as the three ran away. In this day and age, his glasses might as well have been accompanied by a powdered wig, and pantaloons.

Gordon shook his head, and shrugged his shoulders, not letting the young adolescents bother him. After all, despite their brashness, it was still good to see children at play again.

Just then, as he continued on, something in the distance caught his eye. It was some sort of monument. As he approached it, he could make out a man's back, as he stood tall atop... something. Not taking his eyes off it, Gordon slowly made his way around to the front.

"It can't be..." He uttered under his breath, as he slowly began to make out the visage of a man wearing a concrete HEV suit.

Gordon stood in awe, looking at his concrete counterpart. He stood, fully clad in his old HEV armor, standing tall atop what appeared to be the mangled, concrete head of a Combine Hunter. His right hand pointed off, into the distance, as if preparing to lead an invisible army into combat. And in his left hand, he gripped a very familiar red and silver piece of iron, tightly.

Just then, he noticed the bronze plaque, mounted onto the massive stone stand, supporting the statue. He adjusted his glasses, as he stepped closer to read it.

     DR. GORDON FREEMAN
     (ACTIONS NOT WORDS)
     1971 – 2006

     HEROES ARE ORDINARY PEOPLE
     WHO DO EXTRAORDINARY THINGS
     AT EXTRAORDINARY TIMES

     MAY THIS MONUMENT FOREVER STAND
     AS A TESTAMENT TO THE
     INDOMITABLE WILL OF HUMANITY
     AND MAY IT FOREVER GUIDE
     OUR PATH

He stood reading it, from behind a protective guard rail, almost wanting to reach out and touch it, to make sure it was real. "I don't believe it..." He said, shaking his head, as he leaned onto the rail for a moment.

"Dr. Freeman, I presume..." His eyes opened wide, as he suddenly heard a woman's voice behind him, bringing the memories of his first fateful encounter with Ms. Vance, flooding back.

"Alyx?!" He exclaimed, as his face lit up, turning with a jerk.

"Oh..." Gordon uttered, as he turned to see who addressed him. She was a slender woman of average height, with dark, medium length hair. She wore a tight white, leather uniform with black sleeves, contouring perfectly to her voluptuous figure.

"I'm sorry... I... I thought you were someone else." His expression slowly faded back into despondence, doing his best to politely force a smile however.

"It's quite alright." She stated with an Australian accent, a big smile on her face, as she looked at him. "I'm Miranda Lawson, one of your crew mates on the Normandy." She slowly stepped toward him, extending her hand. "It's a privilege to meet you."

"A privilege to meet you as well, Ms. Lawson." He extended his hand to shake hers, a bit of apathy in his voice.

"The Commander told me I might find you here." She continued. "I've been wanting to meet you since they brought you on-board, but I've been so busy entering your bio-signature data into the Citadel registry."

"Oh, thank you for that." He replied. There was an awkward silence between the two, as Gordon attempted to keep his forced smile evident. He slowly turned back to face the statue, leaning on the guard rail once again as she came to stand beside him.

"Man of few words, aren't you?" She asked cheerfully, as she looked over at him.

"Hmm?" It took him a moment to respond, as his mind ran rampant. "Oh, I'm sorry..." He said, turning his head toward her. "Just... got a lot on my mind."

"It's alright." She assured him, as she turned to lean backwards onto the rail, still facing him. "I'm actually partial to the strong silent types myself."

Gordon grinned a bit, as he looked back up at the crowbar wielding statue. A gust of wind howled past them, blowing through their hair.

"Rather impressive, isn't it?" She asked him, as Gordon turned to her, not entirely sure what she was talking about. "The statue, I mean." She specified as she stood up straight, turning around.

"It's..." Gordon began, searching for the right words. "Well quite honestly, it's incredible. But, I just don't think I deserve something like... this..." He said as he put his hands out, pointing them towards the monument.

"Well, why not?" Miranda inquired, in her soft Australian voice. "Had it not been for you, humanity may not have survived."

"But it wasn't just me!" He said, almost shouting, as he gripped the rail tightly. "So many people gave their lives for a chance at a better future. They're the real heroes, where are their statues?" Gordon beckoned as he bowed his head, shaking it.

"I'm sorry, I just..." He looked up at her, trying to excuse his outburst.

"Dr. Freeman, I understand." Miranda came up to him, placing a hand gently onto his shoulder, and squeezing it softly. "I know you must feel torn between worlds. But the fact is, all the heroes of the rebellion are remembered in their own way. They have things like streets, schools, and libraries named after them."

Gordon nodded as he listened, realizing what she was saying was true.

"We just came from the Eli Vance Spaceport... and just down the street is the B. Calhoun High School." She informed him, causing Gordon to snicker cheerfully, at the fact that his old friend had a high school named after him.

"And just up the road, into the hills" She continued, pointing at a winding road that led into the distant hilltops. "Is the White Forest Memorial Cemetery... where most of them were laid to rest."

A forlorn expression came over his face, as he peered up in the direction she was pointing. "They're up there?" He asked, barely audible.

"Yes." Miranda affirmed. "And they built this for you, in a debt of gratitude. The One Free Man." They both gazed up at the monument, as it loomed over them heroically.

"It is an amazing likeness." Gordon stated, looking up. "The suit, my glasses, hell even the crowbar looks like the one I used to have."

"That is the one you used to have." Miranda informed him. "It was recovered from the wreckage of your last battle."

"What?" Gordon asked in shock. "It can't be the same one... How has it not succumb to oxidation, after a hundred and seventy-nine years??"

"I don't know." Miranda responded with a grin, as she crossed her arms looking up at the crowbar in the statues hands. "It's a mystery. It's also been the cause for that statue to become romanticized with fairytale myths and folklore."

"Really?" Gordon inquired, intrigued. "Like what?"

"Well they say stuff like: As long as that statue holds that crowbar, the Combine will never return to Earth." Miranda replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips. "Things of that nature."

"Huh..." Gordon chuckled a bit, shaking his head at the notion. "How about that... Still, it's strange. That crowbar and I have been through a lot together, and yet through some astronomical series of coincidences, it's always managed to find its way back to me."

Gordon clenched his lips as he looked up at his old companion, its silver tip still managing to give off a faint gleam of sunlight. "Not this time I guess... Would be nice though."

"You'd want it back?" Miranda asked, dubiously.

"Well, of course." Gordon affirmed, confidently. "That was the first weapon I found at Black Mesa, after that no matter how many times I managed to lose it, it always made its way back to me. Call it sentiment, call it superstition. I don't know, I'd just feel better if I still had that thing with me."

Miranda's eyes narrowed, and she tapped her index finger against her chin, as a thought crept into her mind.

"Oh well." Gordon said, shrugging his shoulders. "At least I'll always know where it ended up."

"Excuse me, sir." A woman's voice, accompanied by the sound of loud respirator breathing caught his attention causing him to turn. There was another light-blue skinned woman, with ruffling on her head, accompanied by a stout little companion, in a brown body suit.

"I don't know why we need a picture of the Earth Clan..." Her short, aggravated companion complained, breathing heavily through his suits respirator. "This planet is abhorrent, I don't really want to remember it."

"Oh, honey shoosh!" The Asari reprimanded her Volus mate, before turning back to Gordon. "Sorry, you'll have to excuse my husband. I was wondering if I could take your picture."

Her request made Miranda giggle a little, under her breath and caused Gordon to raise an eyebrow. "Uh..." Gordon uttered, confounded – not sure exactly what to say.

"You look just like the man in the statue. I was wondering if I could take your picture standing next to it." The Asari tourist explained.

"Uhm... Sure... I guess...?" Gordon stuttered to respond, with an uneasy smile, standing up straight next to statue as Miranda backed away out of frame, laughing the whole time.

"Could you try to pose the same as the statue?" The Asari requested, as she materialized an omni-tool in front of her. "Sorry, your resemblance is uncanny, especially with those things on your face."

Gordon looked over at Miranda, as she stood off to the side, nearly in stitches. "Yeah, Dr. Freeman. Strike a pose!" she said, while laughing.

Gordon shook his head, as he too couldn't help himself from chuckling, as well. He turned back toward the Asari, pointing a hand outward, and looking out into the distance ominously.

"Perfect!" She exclaimed, followed by a bright flash of light. "This'll look great on my Babblr page!"

---

"So there we were!" Jacob Taylor regaled the Commander as the two sat at a nearby bench, overlooking the work being done on the Normandy. "These Batarian raiders had us completely pinned down. We were out numbered, and running low on ammo. We're all thinkin 'this is it' you know?"

Shepard nodded as he listened intently, to Jacob spin his tale. "So what did you do?" The Commander inquired, eagerly.

"Well, as we're pinned down" Jacob continued. "my buddy Jenkins just pulls out two pistols, holds 'em up and yells 'Alright chumps, lets do this!' and just vaults over the sandbag mound, guns a blazin'!"

"No!" Shepard exclaims in disbelief, as the two chuckled.

"Yeah, I shit you not!" Taylor assured him, as he continued. "So the rest of us figure 'shit, we gotta save em' So we all vault over! It took the Batarians by complete surprise. They never knew what hit 'em. Before we knew it, my company was the only thing left standing."

Shepard let fourth a loud whistle. "I guess the simplest strategy is sometimes the best."

"I guess so." Jacob replied, as the two laughed over their war stories.

"Commander." The two heard Miranda's voice, as she approached them.

"Hey, Miranda." Shepard acknowledged her presence, as he leaned back on the bench, from the edge of his seat. "Were you able to find Dr. Freeman?"

"Yes." She replied. "In fact, that's what I came to talk to you about."

"Is something wrong?" Shepard inquired, a bit of concern now in his voice. "He and Garrus didn't uh..."

"No no, nothing like that." She responded, laying his concerns to rest. "I just think I know of something that can help him out. Make him feel more at home."

The Commander locked his hands, behind his head as he leaned far back. "I'm listening..."

---

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter." A man at his desk, with a deep, raspy voice, called out, not looking up from his work at his holoterminal.

"Sir..." A tall man, in his mid twenties, opened the door, and stuck his head in timidly. "There's someone here to see you."

"Is it policy now, to let any vagrant off the street in to see the Governor, Wilcox?" The man at the desk asked cynically, continuing to work at his terminal, never once looking up at the nervous young man at his door.

The man sitting at the desk, was haggard and held a sour expression on his face. His hair, what was left of it, was a dirty white. And the top of his head was riddled with liver spots. He wore an expensive, amber colored suit, and a gleaming nameplate on his desk, read: Governor Mark Henry Eden.

"S-Sir... This is different." The stuttering young man stepped in, and assured The Governor. "He says he's a Council Spectre."

"A Spectre?" Eden finally stopped, and looked up at his assistant. "What the devil would a Spectre want here? Who is it?"

"Commander Shepard, sir." The nervous assistant answered. "The human Spectre."

"Shepard?" Eden shouted out, eagerly. "Wilcox, why didn't you say so! See him in, see him in!"

"Yes sir." Wilcox nodded, and disappeared out the door. "Governor Eden will see you now, Commander." The Governor heard his assistant say through his White Oak door.

The door opened once again, and the gray armored figure stepped in.

"Commander Shepard!" Eden exclaimed, as he stood up from his desk, extending his hand. "What an honor it is to meet you!" Shepard walked over,  and the two shook hands. "The honor's mine, Governor." Shepard responded.

"Please!" Eden exclaimed happily, motioning with his hand at the two chairs before him. "Sit, sit. What can I do for Earth's favorite son?" He inquired, as he sat back down in his extravagant, leather upholstered chair.

"I came to make a special request, Governor." The Commander informed, as Eden reclined in his seat, smiling as he twiddled his thumbs.

"Absolutely!" The haggard Governor exclaimed, without hesitation. "Just name it."

"I came to request the crowbar, off of the Freeman statue, in the Freeman memorial park." Shepard asserted, leaning forward with a fist on his knee.

"Crowbar?" The Governor furrowed his brow, at Shepard's strange request. "Well if you want a crowbar, we can get you a crowbar, Commander." He pressed a button on his terminal. "Wilcox, come in here."

"No, I didn't say 'a' crowbar." Shepard reaffirmed, stringently. "I said the crowbar from the Freeman  statue."

Just then, the door opened from behind the Commander, as the young Wilcox walked in, nervously.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wilcox queried, before being stopped by Governor, putting a hand up, and turning his attention back to Shepard.

"But why?" Eden questioned, shaking his head, in confusion. "What possible use could a man of your training have for it?"

"Just call it mission critical equipment." Shepard sat up straight in his chair, crossing his arms, and giving the Governor a stern look.

"I... I'm sorry Commander." Eden glared at Shepard angrily as he spoke. "But I won't do it. I'm not about to deface a National Monument."

"I'm not asking you to deface anything." Shepard rebutted. "Have the crowbar replaced with a reasonable facsimile. No one has to know, if anyone asks, say it was taken to be cleaned."

"Besides..." Shepard remarked with a sly grin, as he leaned back in his chair, with his hands clasped behind his head. "I'd hate for the Council to hear that you refused to cooperate with one of their Spectres."

Eden sighed, as he slouched down in his seat, shaking his head. .

"Uhm, sir..." Wilcox ushered in, as he walked over toward the frustrated Governor. He had been standing by the door patiently, since being summoned, careful not to interrupt.

"What is it, Wilcox?" Eden asked, as his assistant came to crouch beside him.

"Uh, sir..." He said, whispering to the Governor, doing his best to make sure Shepard didn't hear him. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I didn't think the Citadel Council had any jurisdiction here on Earth."

Eden swiveled his chair around, as he began whispering back to his assistant. Shepard still sitting patiently with his arms crossed, awaiting an answer.

"Officially, no..." Eden replied, in a faint whisper. "But the rest of the council races already aren't too fond of human kind. The last thing we need is a Spectre saying we refused to cooperate."

"But sir..." Wilcox responded, as the two continued to converse in private. "Don't we have a human in the Council now? Surely, he'd agree with us at how ridiculous this request is."

"Anderson? You must be joking!" Eden scoffed at his assistants naivety. "Shepard is Anderson's poster boy. He'd never take our side over his."

Shepard rolled his eyes, at the two in their own private meeting, as he sat impatiently.

"Well..." Wilcox began, as an idea popped into his head. "What if we just gave him a fake?"

"Preposterous!" Eden replied, immediately shooting down the idea. "You think he wouldn't be able to tell the difference?"

"Well, we could muck it up." Wilcox answered. "A little dirt and grime, to give it that aged look. We already know it isn't rusty. How could he tell the difference?"

"Hmm..." Eden pondered on the idea. "Do you think it could work?"

"It's worth a shot, sir." His assistant replied. "We'll just hand it to him, and say it's the real thing."

Eden nodded, and swiveled back around in his chair, as Wilcox stood up from his crouched position.

"Commander!" The Governor began, with a large, somewhat devious, grin on his face. "After much deliberation, you'll be happy to hear that I have decided to grant your request."

"Excellent." Shepard affirmed, as he stood up immediately and turned around, heading toward the door. "I'll be at the statue to oversee its removal. Please don't keep me waiting."

Shepard opened the door, and walked out as Eden sat at his desk, a scowl now on his face.

Eden let out a long, drawn-out sigh. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk, clasping his fingers together, and resting his forehead on his hands.

"Wilcox..." Eden uttered calmly, with his head down.

"S-Sir?" His assistant stuttered nervously, fearing reprimand.

"I just want you to know, that thanks to your ingenious idea... you will be working in the cafeteria from now on..."