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 28: Before the Storm...

"Alright..." The Commander began with a sigh, as he paced in a small circle at the head of the comm room's briefing table. "I'm sure you're all wondering what's going on."

The interior of the Normandy trembled slightly, as she traversed through the vacuum of space at potentially deadly speeds. The ship's drive core and thruster propulsion systems were never intended to be pushed this hard. But Joker's confidence, and trust in his faithful vessel was enough to give the Commander at least some degree of relief.

Shepard's entire combat squad stood around the table, looking on. Most of them knew something terrible was amiss, judging by the urgency in Shepard's voice when he called for them to convene over the intercom.

"Here's the situation as far as I can tell." Shepard continued, stopping and placing his hands down firmly on the table, as he looked over his combatants. "Sometime, within the last few hours, the vorcha orchestrated a full scale tactical assault on the vortigaunt homeworld of Xen."

"What?" "How do you know?" "When did this happen?" His squad erupted into an array of murmurs as he said it. The crew looked around at one another, a clear look of concern etched on most of their faces, despite their best efforts to hide it.

"Harbinger knows about the vortigaunt's weapon." Shepard continued, putting a hand up to quell the anxious crew members. "They've captured the village that housed the primary control room."

"I guess now we know what the vorcha were mobilizing for..." Garrus uttered, shaking his head. Half  of his face was still covered in the protective cast Dr. Chackwas had fabricated for him, though he no longer seemed to be favoring his ribs.

"Stunning development." Mordin added, pressing his fist to his chin as he looked down at the table. "Strategically brilliant. Illusive Man informed you of this?"

"No." Shepard asserted firmly. "The Illusive Man doesn't know anything about this. If he knew about Xen, he'd probably have a Cerberus excavation team mine the place dry within hours."

"Yeah, and you can bet he'd have the cheerleader running the whole damn operation." Jack added snidely, glaring coldly at Miranda.

"I don't report to the Illusive Man anymore!" Miranda rebutted angrily, returning the cold hard gaze. "If I did, he'd already know where Xen was. But you're too pigheaded and stupid to..."

"It doesn't matter!" Shepard shouted over the two women, arguing across the table at one another, silencing them in unison. "None of that matters... What matters is that Harbinger has captured the vortigaunt weapon. He's amassed his forces on Xen, which means he is probably making his last big push. We have to be there to push back!"

The two women scowled in silence. To the surprise of those who noticed; Thane softly massaged the back of Jack's shoulders, as she crossed her arms and sneered, trying to quell her anger. Also to their surprise, it seemed to work.

"Shepard, how do you even know all of this?" Garrus questioned as a few eyebrows were raised, in the room. "Are we in radio contact with them?"

"No." Shepard answered, looking off to the side as he recalled the chilling vision. "Back on Xen, the vortigaunts did something. They imprinted me somehow. Made it so they could communicate with me, the same way they did with Dr. Freeman."

"We saw the whole thing." Gordon added, while releasing a deep sigh. "It was like a dream... A vision. We saw it all as if we were actually there."

"What were those devices the attackers were using, Commander?" Gordon questioned as he turned to Shepard, recalling the tragedy that played in his mind. "Those strange silvery spikes they were impaling the vorts on?"

"Silvery spikes?" Miranda beckoned with a fair bit of alarm in her voice. "They're using dragon's teeth?"

"Yeah..." Shepard affirmed regretfully, nodding at her before turning his attention back to Gordon. "As Miranda said, they're called Dragon's Teeth. Agents of the Reapers use them to change beings into mindless, empty husks."

"Husks?" Gordon replied, questioningly, clasping his chin between his thumb and index finger. "You mean like zombies?" Shepard nodded in response, as the doctor answered his own question. "Well, I suppose some things never change, do they?"

"How in the hell did the Reapers even find the vort's home world?" Jacob questioned angrily, shaking his head with his arms crossed. "Xen is far out on the ass end of nowhere..."

"Well, these Reaper creatures are said to possess some type of mind dominating influence, right?" Gordon answered, beginning to postulate a hypothesis. "Obviously, that means extrasensory capability of some sort. Isn't it possible they were able to hone in on the vort's telepathic link, when they contacted me?"

"The Reaper IFF is still integrated into the Normandy's systems." EDI's voice chimed in, as she began to offer up her own theory, though not actually showing her holographic form. The crews eyes turned upwards, listening as she spoke. "Although, I have conducted multiple checks to assure we are no longer broadcasting any sort of signal – Reaper technology is still far more advanced than anything we could fully comprehend. It is possible we may have transmitted a signal undetectable by my instruments."

"Great..." Jacob sneered sarcastically. "So we led Harbinger straight to 'em."

"We don't know that." Miranda asserted, sternly. "Harbinger could've found Xen in any number of ways."

"The Reapers had already enslaved and repurposed the vortigaunts once before..." Shepard added, waving his hand in front of him with a stone resolve on his face. "Even though it wasn't them directly, it's likely they've always known where Xen is. Just like they've probably always known how to get to Earth."

"The Illusive Man was wrong... They've just been biding their time..." The Commander affirmed, leaning forward on the table, hanging his head down a bit. "And if Harbinger chose now to strike, that means hes preparing something big. Especially, if he's amassed his entire indoctrinated army on Xen. It's up to us to take back the vortigaunt home world. We have to save them, and their weapon. It may end up being the only hope we have against such an unrelenting enemy."

"Our course has been set..." Shepard continued, standing up straight and placing his hands behind his back. "ETA is about eighteen hours. I suggest we all make the most of what little time we have. We don't know what awaits us when we get there, or what the Reapers may have planned. But if the past has taught us anything, it's that it won't be easy, and we've all got to be prepared to sacrifice."

The crew looked around at each other, a mixture of pride, resolve, and even fear in their eyes. Many nodded their heads as Shepard's words filled the room. Others stared silently into space, reflecting on the path behind, and the road ahead. One particular krogan, pounded his fists together eagerly at the exhilarating notion of the coming battle.

"Dismissed..."

---

Joker released a long, drawn-out sigh as he reclined back in his chair. He lifted his cap off his head with his right hand, and brushed his hair back with the fingers on his left, before placing the cap snugly back on.

"Take the helm EDI, and keep her monitored." He uttered with his eyes closed, and a heavy sense of exasperation in his voice.

"Yes, Mr. Moreau." EDI complied, as her hologram flashed on the bridge. "Are you feeling alright, Jeff? I am detecting elevated stress levels."

Joker was silent for a moment, as he reclined back in his seat. His head was drawn back, and his eyes were pointed up towards the ceiling, as he locked his fingers together over his stomach.

"I've just got that feeling, ya know?" Joker eventually answered, a despondent tone in his voice. "That nervous, queasy, upset stomach feeling you get right before you know the shit storm is about to hit."

"I am incapable of experiencing the sensations you have described." EDI replied. "However, if you are feeling ill, perhaps you should head down to the medical bay."

"Heh..." Joker chuckled uneasily, as he leaned forward once again, examining his controls. "No EDI, I'm not sick. I'm just... I don't really know how to describe it..." He shuttered, as he spoke.

"Worried?" EDI interjected.

"Yeah..." Joker answered, sighing and nodding his head. "I guess that pretty much sums it up."

"I understand, Jeff..." EDI continued, a human-like sympathy in her artificial voice. "I am as well."

There was an eerie tranquility on board the Normandy, despite the trembling hull, and rattling bulkheads. The hours seemed to drag by, as the ship's various crew members made ready for the perils that undoubtedly lay ahead. Each of them had their own unique reasons for setting foot on the Normandy. But none of those reasons mattered anymore. They each knew that in a matter of hours, they would once again be facing the greatest threat the galaxy has ever known. And each of them was willing to die to defeat it.

---

The gleaming silver walls of the Starboard Observation Deck flickered with a celestial blue glow, as a lone Justicar sat immersed in deep meditation, in the center of the room. An angelic white light spilled out from her eyes, as a mass of pure energy was silently channeled before her.

Suddenly, her pupils reappear, as the light quickly fades away. The energy flowing through her hands dissipates, as she brings them down to rest on her knees. Her legs crossed, she sits quietly in the center of the room, a stone expression on her face.

Her eyes begin to wander around the room for a moment, taking note of the stars outside her window, the books on a shelf against the far wall, the elegant furniture adorning her quarters. Despite the amount of time she's already served on board the Normandy, and the amount of time she'd spent engrossed in meditation within this very room; this was actually the first time she really noticed any of it.

As her eyes wander, she begins to think about things. She isn't attempting to reach any sort of transcendence on a spiritual plane now, she is merely thinking. She thinks of the day she forsook all material items, and worldly possessions, in the name of the Justicar code. It was centuries ago, but she can still remember the oath word for word.

She recalls her hunt for a lustrous Ardat-Yakshi. A hunt that one fateful day, brought her to the Nos Astra police station, where she would meet a Spectre whose quest was even greater than her own. A quest that required no less, than her undying, unwavering allegiance. She is still bound to this Spectre, her oath to him even greater than that of the Justicar's.

And she thinks of Morinth... Such a vile, brutal, cold-blooded predator. A creature who's lust and ecstasy brought misery, and death to all those seduced by her venomous charms. Still... As horrible and despicable as the acts she committed; it was with a burdened heart, that Samara still managed to feel a great deal of pride in her daughter. For Morinth was the smartest, the bravest, and the most alive of her beloved yet forsaken children. She did what must be done, but it was not done without lament, without sorrow, without pain.

Then came the memory of the assault on the Collector base. A mission that by every law of probability should have resulted in total failure and annihilation. But those on board the Normandy always seemed to find a way around the odds. And now, once again they found themselves tempting the hands of fate. But if not them, then who...?

Samara slowly stood up from the floor, and walked over to her window as streaks of light flashed by outside at incredible speeds. She pressed her hand against the glass, bowed her head and closed her eyes.

"By the code, I will serve him." She began to recite, as a vivid blue glow encased her body. "His choices are my choices... His morals are my morals... His wishes are my code..." As she finished, she opened her eyes and the blow glow around her slowly faded away; her hand still pressed against the glass. "My soul is prepared..."

---

A krogan huffed as he paced around restlessly in the Port Cargo Hold. A Krogan Blood Rage brewed within his veins as the etched visions of ancient battles seethed within his mind. Visions of mighy fallen Krogan Warlords slaughtering their enemies, as their corpses piled at their feet.

Warlords who presided at the battles of the ancient Rachni wars. Who led armies of the fiercest of warriors in the Krogan Rebellions. Memories of his own battles, brewed as well. His rite of passage, when he and his krannt not only survived the behemoth Thresher Maw on Tuchanka, but also slew it. A feat that had not come to pass, since Urdnot Wrex himself took the rite.

His blood boiled with anticipation as he remembered the assault on the collector base. Wave after endless wave of feeble, flesh armored, creatures fell as they clashed against his clan's torrent of gunfire.

He continued to pace around, a malicious grin on his face. Suddenly, he stopped. He turned to face the tank, in which he had been bred. The tank that had been his mother, his mentor, his whole life, until the battlemaster released him. Grunt slowly walked up to it, examining it closely, and remembering its teachings.

All of a sudden, he reeled his head back, before thrusting it forward with incredible velocity. The force shattered the glass encasing the tank, and the shards erupted onto the floor.

"Hehe..." He chuckled softly to himself, with an odious grin on his face. "Kredak, Moro, Shiagur, Terg, Wrend, Veeoll... Okeer..." He continued. "I am distilled from the blood of warlords. Grant me a worthy battle. And blood will flow in your names... For I am Krogan."

---

Gordon stood in his quarters, peering out of his window at the streaks of light flashing by outside. He held his hands clasped behind his back, as his mind raced on everything from what lay on the road ahead, to everything he left behind.

As he stood contemplating with his eyes flickering back and forth, his sleek metallic door unexpectedly slid open.

"Ms. Lawson." Gordon began cheerfully, with a grin, as he turned to see who had entered his room. "It's a nice surprise to see you here. How are you feeling?"

"As well as can be expected, I suppose." Miranda responded, a slight nervousness in her voice, as she slowly walked into the room. "All things considered."

"I'm glad to hear that." Gordon assured, as he turned to walk towards her, letting his arms hang down to his sides. The two now face, to face at arms length from one another. "You really had me worried back at the research facility..."

"Ahem..." Gordon looked down, and away nervously as he cleared his throat. "But, uhm... At any rate, what can I do for you?"

"I just..." Miranda paused for a moment as she began. "I figured I owed you an explanation, Dr. Freeman."

"An explanation?" Gordon questioned, furrowing his brow. "For what? I don't understand."

"For Cerberus..." Miranda answered, with a hefty sigh. "I know that asari back at the facility mentioned some of our... past transgressions."

"Oh..." Gordon nodded, with his eyes shut. "I see."

"There is some truth to what she said." Miranda began to explain. "Cerberus has been known to commit some rather ruthless acts, all in the name of human advancement. And there was a time that I blindly condoned it all. As a species, I felt we were on our own. And it was up to us to assure our own future."

"But..." She continued, as she bowed her head and shook it, clearly guilt ridden. "That was before. My loyalty now lies with the mission, and with this crew."

As she looked up, to her surprise she spotted Gordon looking back at her with a warm smile on his face.

"I know about Cerberus, Ms. Lawson." He stated, with a nod. He didn't turn to walk away, or seem to harbor any sort of resentment in his voice. "When I woke up here, one of the first things I asked EDI for, was information about the man who had taken me. The 'G-Man' as he was called."

"What did you find?" Miranda questioned, intrigued.

"Nothing, particularly useful..." Gordon shook his head, with a quick sigh. "There wasn't much information, other than he was one of Black Mesa's primary investors."

"Yeah, I didn't think there'd be much." Miranda acknowledged, biting down on her lip "Most of Cerberus' records of that era were lost in the Seven Hours War or the rebellion."

"Right..." Gordon agreed, before continuing on. "Well after that, the next best thing I could do, was to look into the organization that he was a part of. So I did."

"I know about... Well, pretty much everything." He affirmed, shrugging his shoulders.

"And it doesn't bother you?" Miranda questioned, dubiously.

"Well of course it bothers me." Gordon assured, nodding his head. "Many of the things Cerberus has done are... horrible to say the least. But if it wasn't for them, this crew wouldn't exist. And I know what the crew stands for, what they're fighting for. What WE'RE fighting for." Miranda smiled, a deep sense of relief overtaking her, as Gordon continued. "These are good people on this ship. I'm proud to be a part of that. And besides... I'm the last person who should judge anyone."

"What do you mean, Dr. Freeman?" Miranda asked, as she saw him bow his head, with a sudden remorseful expression on his face.

Gordon looked up at her momentarily, before lowering his head once more.

"I've committed my own share of atrocities..." Gordon began, a mild sorrow in his voice. "What I'm known for... What I leave behind... Is a legacy of failure and destruction."

"I have no delusions of heroism over the things I've done." Gordon continued, releasing a long, drawn-out sigh. "I've taken many lives. Innocent lives."

"You mean the Combine?" Miranda questioned, baffled.

"No." Gordon shook his head. "I mean the men at Black Mesa. The soldiers. They were human beings. Men under orders. Men with lives... Families... Loved ones... I know I did what I had to to survive. It was me or them, plain and simple. But it doesn't make it right. Not to mention the fact that the entire resonance cascade was MY fault."

"But you weren't the one who ordered that Eezo sample utilized." Miranda replied, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders.

"No, but I knew better." Gordon continued. "I knew the sample was too unstable, but I used it anyway. I was the new guy, and I wanted to make a good impression on the higher-ups. Guess it worked..." Gordon remarked sarcastically, and let out an uneasy chuckle, while shaking his head.

"No matter how many lives I've managed to save, I'm responsible for the loss of far more. And I live with that. We've all done things we're not proud of. But it's like the Commander said; None of that matters now. Besides..." He looked up at Miranda with a slick smile and a gleam in his eyes. "I trust you."

Miranda returned the look Gordon gave her, smiling back at him sensually. "I'm glad you feel that way. I trust you too, Dr. Freeman." She nodded, as she placed her hand on the side of his shoulder. "And it's unusual for me to trust anyone. I'm used to relying on no one but myself."

"So what makes you trust me so readily?" Gordon questioned, still smiling and pleased at this newfound connection of trust between them.

"Hmm... I don't know..." Miranda replied cheerfully, placing a curled finger over her lower lip. "There's just something about you. I suppose after learning about the Seven Hours War and how you led the Earth Rebellions, I feel almost as though I've known you my whole life. You really are a remarkable human being."

"Remarkable?" Gordon scoffed, shaking his head with a grin. "Ms. Lawson, you're the remarkable one. What I saw you do back at that facility. Your strength, your brilliance, those incredible powers you possess. You're nothing short of amazing."

Miranda bowed her head, and looked down at the floor, before turning around and taking a few steps away from Gordon. She crossed her arms before her, like someone huddling for warmth in the cold.

"No..." She remarked, shaking her head. "Everything I am... Is because of what I was engineered to be. The intelligence... The looks... Even my biotics. My father paid for it all. None of it is because of who I am." Gordon approached the despondent Miranda, he reached out as if to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but retracted it before doing so.

"Everything you've done, all of your accomplishments – it's because of your skill, and who you are." She continued, embracing herself in her own arms. "The only thing I can take credit for is my mistakes."

"That's not true... What you were given doesn't matter..." Gordon answered, furrowing his brow and shaking his head. "What matters is what you do with it. You're the one that makes the choice of how to use your gifts. And you should be proud of what you've done."

Miranda's sorrowful expression slowly faded, as Gordon reassured her.

"Besides." Gordon continued. "You're one of the most lovely, courageous, strong willed, people I've ever met. Engineered or not, I... I can't help but admire you... Body and mind."

"Oh... Thank you..." Miranda responded, turning back around as an alluring smile came over her face, with one hand on her hip. "Well, perhaps I wouldn't mind if you admire my body."

A slight grin came over Gordon's face, before it was replaced by a sudden look of embarrassment, as he rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"Uh... Forgive me..." Gordon answered nervously, avoiding her eyes, as he turned away from her. "I meant no disrespect." He turned and walked to peer out of his window once more.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, with a look of shame, frustration, and confusion all etched on her face in one. She took a step to rush out of the room, before turning back around to face Gordon.

"Dr. Freeman... Gordon..." She began sternly, as she approached him. "I've seen the way you look at me. The way you held me, back at the facility, when I nearly fell. I need to know, has it all just been my imagination?"

Aside from a quick sigh, Gordon was silent for a moment as he pressed his forehead against the glass, while peering out that the stars streaking by. "No..." He eventually answered. "You haven't imagined it."

"Then what is it?" Miranda demanded pleadingly, as she approached him, placing her left hand on the back of his right shoulder.  "Gordon, what are you afraid of?"

Without answering, Gordon closed his eyes as his mind began to run rampant with the memories that haunted him.

"Gordon, something's snooping around out here."

"AHH! Oh my god! Gordon, help!"

"The... Alyx Vance. Her condition is grave. She clings to the margins."

"Oh Doctor Freeeeeeeman..."

"Come along now, Dr. Freeman. That time has... come again."

"I'm afraid of it all happening again." He uttered softly, his voice drowned in lament. "...I'm sorry."

Miranda drew her hand back from his shoulder. She opened her mouth as if to say something more, but didn't. Instead she merely shook her head regretfully, and turned to walk away. The room's silver door slid open as she walked out, then slid shut behind her.

---

Dr. Mordin Solus worked feverishly, as he peered into a holoscope on his work table. Beside him, a small centrifuge spun an array of test tubes at an incredible velocity. Nearby, a terminal ran a number of tests and took various readings on multiple samples and specimens.

Only he ever knew the details of his experiments. Where there was knowledge to be found, there was always an experiment to be had. Everything from the research on curing the genophage he had recovered from his misguided, former assistant back on Tuchanka. To examining and trying to cure Joker's condition, or the quarian's weak immune systems.

Suddenly, a strange feeling came over the salarian. He looked up from his holoscope, and released a quick breath, before biting down on his lip. He brought his hands up, near his face, tapping his fingers together – immersed in deep contemplation.

"Heh..." He let out a brief chuckle, shaking his head with a grin. Just then, he materialized his omni-tool and waved it across his desk in a sweeping motion. As he did, every machine, device, and apparatus simply powered down. The centrifuge stopped spinning, his holoscope and his terminal went dark. And he decided he would do, what he felt to be an eternity since he had done.

He torqued his head back and forth, trying to work a kink out of his neck that had been persistently bothering him for the past week. He shrugged his shoulders with a grin, before proceeding to walk out of the room.

From his work on the genophage with the Salarian Task Group, to his work on curing the plague in his clinic on Omega, to fabricating a suitable counter-measure to the seeker swarms of insect-like creatures utilized by the Collectors. It felt like it was an eternity since he had taken a break.

---

"Amonkira... Lord of hunters." A lone Drell Assassin prayed, with his eyes closed and his hands clasped tightly, within his quarters in the Normandy's Life Support Control Room. While he prayed, he didn't hear the door to his room slide open. "Grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet be swift. And should the worse come to pass... Grant me forgiveness."

As he finished his prayer, a soft, playful shove came from behind, as he opened his eyes and smiled.

"Hey, Calamari." Jack began jovially, as she came in and sat on the table before him, with her legs crossed "What's goin' on."

"Siha." Thane replied with a smile, placing his hand on her knee. "I am joyful you have come. I was simply asking the Hunter Lord Amonkira for strength in the coming battle."

"You know, you still haven't told me what the hell Siha means." Jack replied, grinning and shaking her head. "I kinda like it, but you haven't told me what it means."

"Siha is the name of one of the warrior angels of the goddess Arashu." Thane explained, as his large black eyes locked on to Jack's. "Fierce in wrath, and a tenacious protector."

Despite her gruff exterior, he uncovered a tender soul, however wounded. He never expected anything like this to happen. But however different they may have been, each of them was something the other needed. There was a balance between them.

"That's how you see me...?" Jack questioned, with a mixture of doubt and gratefulness in her voice.

"You complete me, Siha." Thane assured warmly, taking Jack's hand in his own as he stood up and walked around in front of her. "Your passion, your lust for life – I have spent the last ten years dead. It took you to reawaken me. I only wish I had more time to give you."

"Shut up. Don't..." Jack scorned, as she replied with an angry, yet sorrowful look on her face. "I don't wanna hear that shit, alright? Fuck time, you're here now and that's what matters." Jack stood up, sliding off the table. She reached out, and pulled on Thane's shoulder, pulling him close as she pressed her mouth against his.

"Siha, wait..." Thane uttered, as he pulled himself away and caressed Jack's face, his eyes glazed over as he held tears back.

"What? What is it?" Jack demanded as Thane began to pace around in front of her restlessly.

"I... I have known I will die for many years." He responded, not actually looking at her, simply continuing to pace around – a concerned and confused look on Jack's face.

"I have tried to leave the galaxy better than I have found it." Thane continued. "I've righted many wrongs... I've spoken to my son. I should be at peace on the eve of battle."

"What are you trying to say, Krios?" Jack beckoned, as she came up to him, placing her hand on his chest. "What's the problem?"

"I'm... ashamed..." Thane answered, despondently.

"Ashamed? Ashamed of what?" Jack questioned angrily, pulling her hand away and glaring at Thane. "Ashamed of me? Is that it?"

"No!" Thane asserted, without hesitation at the notion. "Siha, I have come to care for you more than I ever thought possible. After I lost Irikah, I felt my body and soul would never again be one. But I met another Siha, few are privileged to even meet one."

"Then what the hell is it?" Jack pleaded, the anger in her voice somewhat replaced with concern. "What's wrong?"

He turned and leaned against his table, the burden of shame in his heart preventing him from facing her, as tears now flowed in droves from his eyes.

A look of burning indignation came over his face as he suddenly raised his fist, and slammed it down hard onto the table.

"I've worked so hard..." He said, as he turned his head to look at her. She wasn't sure what had him in this uproar, but it worried her. "Meditated and prayed, and done good deeds. Atoned for the evils I have done... Prepared..."

"But I consider my bodies death, and chill settles in my gut." Thane continued, closing his eyes and bowing his head over the table. "I'm afraid... and it shames me!"

"Hehehe..." Jack chuckled lightly, causing Thane to open his eyes in surprise. "You're ashamed because your scared?"

"But I..."

"So, you're scared. So what?" Jack continued, interrupting Thane as he turned back around to face her. "You think I don't know what it's like to be afraid? Yeah... I act like a mean crazy bitch. And I am. But it doesn't mean I haven't been scared. Until Shepard helped me destroy that shit hole Cerberus lab, I felt like a fuckin' scared little girl every day of my life. And it sucked! I'm through being scared, Krios."

Thane smiled warmly at Jack, as he looked down, and reached for her hands with his. "Thank you, Siha..." He uttered softly. "You truly are a warrior angel... The goddess has been kind to bless me with one, such as you."

"Yeah, yeah..." Jack snickered cheerfully, as she pulled her hands out of his, and draped them on his shoulders, around his neck – pulling him close to her. "Enough about your gods and angels. Come 'ere frog legs."

---

"Shoot..." Garrus grunted angrily, to himself as he worked on calibrating the Normandy's Thanix Cannons in the ship's main battery room. Something was breaking his concentration, causing him to make an unusual amount of mistakes.

"Come on, you suckers." He said to himself once again, as he ran the targeting program from where he last left off. A loud hum came from the retracted cannons, heard over the trembling of the ship, as the program powered them up. He worked on the console, doing his best to focus on his task and not let his muttering thoughts ruin his concentration.

A few beads of sweat rolled down his face, many of which were soaked up by the protective cast he was still wearing.

"There!" He said happily, before letting out a heavy sigh. "Finally done with those damn calibrations." He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, as the hum of the cannon's powered back down.

Pleased with his work, he turned and walked to sit on a nearby crate of his personal belongings. He noticed that his abdominal area no longer seemed to pose any sort of pain or discomfort to him as he sat, in contrast to days back.

He placed his hand on the cast covering the lower left side of his face, putting pressure on it. Gently at first, then pressing down firmly. Grinning at the lack of pain, he carefully cut into it and began to peel it off his face. Chunks and pieces fell to the ground as he peeled it off little by little. He knew he probably should've gone to Dr. Chakwas to have the cast removed, but a turian's naturally sharpened fingertips were versatile, and the cast posed no obstacle.

With the cast fully removed, mostly in pieces on the floor, he gently rubbed his face where it used to be. He smiled at the refreshing sensation of fresh air on that part of his face.

"Ah..." He said with a grin. "Much better."

---

Commander John Shepard stood alone in the Normandy's hangar bay, leaning against the small Kodiak shuttle on-board, with his arms crossed and his head hung low.

"Can we really win this?" Was the thought that echoed through his mind. He managed to defeat Sovereign and the geth. Then he defeated Harbinger's collectors. Now Harbinger was using the vorcha, and they had managed to capture the one true weapon they could've had against the Reaper fleet. Was he fighting a futile war?

The thought of Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams crossed his mind. The sacrifice she made, and the tragic decision he was responsible for... The decision he lived with. What if he had gone back for her? What if the geth had some how managed to diffuse the nuke, when he went after Williams. The whole mission could have been lost. He knew he made the only logical decision. But it still haunted him.

He thought about his deployment on Akuze. The men and women of his unit being slaughtered all around him. "Fall back!" He shouted to his squad firing wildly at the thresher maw, desperately trying to gets its attention, and hoping to give his team the window for escape they needed. But to no avail. It all happened so fast. Acid spewing from its mouth, his men being dissolved like candle wax in a flame. Most of it was a blur now, but he still remembered enough to give him chills.

He recalled the woman within the tube, in the Collector's base. Her screams of agony, as she pounded and clawed, trying desperately to get out, before her body was melted and processed into genetic material used to create that abomination... That human-reaper larva. The thousands, hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of innocent human colonists that were abducted and would never again see their families; Fathers, mothers, children, husbands, wives. And it wouldn't stop there.

His eyes closed as the vision of the attack on Xen played over and over in his mind. Entire vortigaunt families gunned down without mercy or remorse. The green blood of the vortigaunts flowing through their village. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of vorts impaled on dragon's teeth, as their bodies were changed into conduits to serve the Reapers. Not even death was enough to save them.

"You exist because we allow it, and you will end because we demand it."

"I am the Harbinger of your ascension."

"Shepard, you've changed nothing. Your species has the attention of those infinitely your greater."

"You fight against inevitability. Dust struggling against cosmic winds."

"John?" Shepard opened his eyes, as a familiar female voice snapped him away from his drowning memories. "EDI told me I'd find you down here,  I've been looking for you."

"Is everything alright?" She questioned with a fair amount of concern.

Without saying anything, he looked up at his beloved quarian as a smile grew on his face. He pulled away from the shuttle, and reached out to grab her hand.

"Come here." He said softly, as he pulled her closely to him, embracing her as he leaned back on the shuttle once more. She put one hand around his back, and the other on his chest, feeling utterly at home being held by him.

"John, are you alright?" She questioned, looking up at him as he held her.

He smiled down at her, as he lowered his head and kissed the tip of her faceplate. "I am now."

There was a peaceful silence between them, as they held each other for several minutes. They swayed side to side in one another's arms, as Shepard lightly stroked the back of Tali's decorative hood.

"I really do love you, Tali." Shepard eventually stated, looking up towards the ceiling, her head resting on his shoulder. "I know I don't say it often enough."

"You don't have to say it, John." Tali replied, in a hushed voice. "I know it. And I love you too."

There was another brief silence between the two, as Shepard closed his eyes and rested his head against hers.

"You know, I think the last time I said it, was back on the Citadel." He uttered softly. "After I nearly throttled Hawkins."

The two chuckled softly, as the awkwardly humorous memory of Shepard manhandling Crewman Hawkins came surging back.

"Hey..." Shepard continued eagerly, causing Tali to look up at him, as an idea crossed his mind. "Speaking of which, I never did dance with you. Did I?"

"No, but that's alright." Tali replied, shaking her head. "I know you don't much care for dancing."

"True..." Shepard nodded his head, with a slick grin on his face. "But I still think I owe you a dance, Miss Vas Normandy."

Shepard gently pulled himself away from Tali, and walked out towards the center of the hangar bay, while manipulating his omni-tool. A sudden rhythm of slow dance music began to fill the large room, as he put his omni-tool away, and turned to face Tali.

With a huge smile beneath her faceplate; Tali slowly walked out, following Shepard as he turned and extended an arm towards her, to take her hand.

"Tali'Zorah... May I have this dance?"