Mass Effect Locations

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Mass Effect Locations
Sisyphus
A short piece of ShepxGarrus drabble I wrote to reflect Shepard's feelings on turmoil and anger after leaving Earth.
Notes welcome, and I may post on FF or AO3.
In moments like these, Shepard wished she didn’t have the burden of command. Downtime in her shoes was torture. Reports to submit, messages to review and respond to, all the while cognisent of time… and just how much was being wasted, wiping away organic life by the second. She couldn’t (or being honest wouldn’t) spend her time decompressing in bars and clubs, or indeed in someone’s bed.
The Greeks wrote of Atlas, bearing the weight of the world upon his back. Humans had a saying thanks to him - to have the weight of the world on your shoulders. She wonders in time if there will come to be a saying about bearing the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders.
If it might even be named after her.
Yet in this moment, she relates more to Sisyphus than Atlas, heaving his boulder up that steep incline, only to have it roll back down again for eternity as punishment for cheating death not once, but twice.
Her throat releases an involuntary sound that resembles laughter, but it rings hollow from the galvanised steel panels of the bathroom and dies swiftly.
Laura ‘Sisyphus’ Shepard, defier of death, trying to save a galaxy that thrusts its fingers in its ears, eyes screwed shut as it sings, “LA LA LA I can’t hear you”.
She grimaces into the bathroom mirror in the captain’s cabin. Her cabin, again. Two years had etched their angry mark on her visage more than any others years had. Time spent in dry dock without her ship, decommissioned and listless with no rank or title, she became immobilised in more ways than one.
And after all that wasted time, the denial, the dismissiveness, they march her out in front of them to ask for help. Help us.
What was that quote, again? Something like , "all the whores and politicians will look up and shout, 'save us!' and we will whisper, 'No'. "
She grips the edge of the sink tight, her knuckles popping and white. That frown line deepens, cementing even further its indent into her brow. The worst thing was that in that moment, a tiny rebellious and furious part of her gut wished to watch them burn.
It passed quickly, but her own visceral fury both repulsed and frightened her.
The same rage that she battled down faced with Kaidan’s doubt, Vega’s recklessness, turning her back on the suffering and death on Earth… it all simmered in the pit of her stomach.
Yet.
She's back on the Normandy. Home.
Sure It's a little emptier than it once was, thankfully bearing Alliance insignia once again, and had had more than a few modifications, but it was home. More than any other place had been to her. Even this cabin had been able to offer a haven amidst the darkest of times. Moments that were now rather too painful to recall.
Downtime could go to hell.
The Normandy was en route to Palaven's moon, Menae, in search of the Turian Primarch. She was trying not to think about how she would feel seeing Palaven, knowing the reapers had descended there, too; About where a certain Turian ex C-Sec officer might be right now, or even if he was alive.
She sighs and rests her forehead against the mirror, the cool penetrating her skin. The heat of her breath erases her reflection momentarily.
So much depended on her.
It was time to push the boulder, even if the incline seemed far to steep. She prayed to all the galactic gods that she wouldn’t always be this alone in doing so.
You know it’s critical when bioware themselves don't know their own planets names
sometimes this game is just,,, so pretty
Palavan
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