My second fic is completed! This is a Shenko angst fic, with the last chapter being very explicit.
“It was two years, Shepard. Of waking in cold sweats in the middle of the night. Of replaying every scenario before Alchera, desperately trying to find ways I could go back and save you. The survivor’s guilt wrecked me. I didn’t sleep, didn’t eat. I locked myself away from everyone. Lost touch with Joker, Garrus—the whole crew. Wasn’t until Anderson personally came to my apartment on the Citadel after eight months and smacked some sense into me. Convinced me you’d kick my ass if you’d saw the way I dragged this dark void around me.”
Shepard kept her steely gaze. The silence was unbearably loud. “Please say something, Shepard. Don’t leave me like this,” he whispered, voice nearly breaking.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Alexis found her way to Horizon, eager to finally find a foundation from her Alliance days. Even as the world around her didn’t make sense, as she kept having flashes of a life that she knew couldn’t be hers, she felt her heart ache at the thought of her former lieutenant.
Except, everything was wrong. He treated her like a long lost friend. Yes, they had decided to forego anything after Virmire, but certainly those feelings… they had to still be there.
Alchera. Such an inconsequential name. If Akeelah had heard it before today, she wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Indeed, she hadn’t even been aware of the name of the planet the Normandy had been near when the Collectors attacked. As far as she’d known, they’d been in an uninhabited part of the Terminus.
Alchera was a cold, barren planet, the perfect planet for a grave. It was silent, with barely any wind, no life, nothing to contrast Shepard’s own sounds. Nothing to tell her that she wasn’t completely alone.
Her breath came out as a faint haze of steam through the slats of her helmet, and she tested her gauntlets with some experimental movements of her hand. Chakwas had given her blessing to this mission, after a quick check and bandage change. Her hand was healing well; she’d be combat ready again soon, but she’d have to be careful at first. No reckless charges or punching for a while, but she was sure she wouldn’t need to worry about it here. There was nothing here but ghosts.
Garrus and Jacob had offered to come with her onto Alchera’s surface, but she wanted to go alone. Joker had understood, and told her that he was on the end of the line should she want to talk. He was as subdued as she was, though she knew he was nursing guilt about it. If he hadn’t tried to hang on and save the Normandy, would she have lived? Shepard shook her head. She would definitely need to talk to Kelly after this.
But for now, she was alone on Alchera. She’d turned her comms to private and piloted the shuttle down herself, and now she looked out on the scene before her.
The SSV Normandy lay scattered across the snowy drift, as if it had been ripped apart by a vast beast, its bones visible in the metal struts, bars, and cross beams scoured of the white, black and red livery that was its skin. One of the ship’s thrusters was pointed towards the dark sky, as if yearning to return. The soldier remembered when she first saw the ship in dock; elegant, shining, new. To see her broken remains imbedded in the snow formed a lump in her throat she couldn’t remove. She felt more of a betrayer knowing that her younger sister was in orbit just above, built not by the Alliance and turian hands, but by Cerberus, the enemy.
Akeelah took a shuddering breath. She had a job to do. To find the dogtags of those who didn’t come home, and to place the memorial to mourn them and the ship they sailed on.
The Commander let her thoughts fill with the crunching snow under her boots, the beating of her heart in her ears, the breath that hissed in and out of her and the creaking of her armour as she moved.
Flashbacks hit her hard as she found key areas of the shattered ship, re-established connections between her neurons screaming their awakening as harshly as her first minutes awake in the Cerberus facility. A flashback of two crew members arguing over a sleeping pod, stopping with wide eyes when they noticed she was watching them. People sitting around the mess table, discussing an extranet game and tactics with hastily scribbled notes. The galaxy map, swirling with stars that she’d occasionally spin with her fingers. Pressly giving her reports, far more organised than she. Her chest tightened when she remembered Joker and Kaidan piloting, trading sarcastic remarks about their shakedown run.
She almost teared up when she found Ash’s workbench, flooded with memories of the young woman. What would she think of Shepard working for Cerberus? She’d probably be appalled, just like Kaidan, probably more so. It was the only appropriate response to her complete and utter folly. I’m sorry I’m a disappointment to you, Ash.
Then she found the Mako.
It had been their trusty steed through their entire mission chasing Saren and Sovereign, bouncing and lurching over the hilly terrain, protecting them from the geth armatures and even battling with thresher maws. Maybe it was a temperamental creature, with steering that was more than a little odd, but the Mako had spirit. It never broke down, never complained, and took beatings in its stride. Even when it was damaged after its trip through the Conduit, it only needed a couple of repairs before it was fully functional once again.
And even now, on Alchera, the Mako sat in a lump of snow, seemingly without a scratch. It looked as ready for service as the day the Normandy had left dock after the shore leave. She reached up, laying a palm against its side, just under the model number painted proudly on its side. I bet you’re wondering where everyone is, she thought sadly, her eyes blurring with tears. I’m sorry, sweetheart. They’re all gone. They’re not coming back. You’re...You’re alone.
It was too much. Akeelah began to cry again, weeping at the loss of life, mourning her crew, mourning the Normandy, mourning the life she’d had, everything she’d been. She sank onto her knees, the snow crunching underneath her, small flakes starting to fall around her. As she cried, she glanced back up at the Mako, sitting proudly in its snowy bed, and a decision clicked into place in her head.
Sniffing loudly and blinking hard, she got up and jogged back to the shuttle, finding the memorial inside. Shepard picked it up using its in-built mass effect core to lessen its weight, carrying it to the Mako and placing it in front.
As she did, the soldier noticed a large portion of the Normandy’s side plating had survived, the portion with the ship’s name proudly stenciled on. Standing at the memorial, it could just be viewed behind the Mako, just off to the side. She managed a wobbly smile; it was if it was meant to be.
Shepard still had dogtags to find, however, so she returned to that, murmuring a soft prayer to each as she found them. During the hunt she found her old helmet in an alcove, battered and dented by the forces of impact. She stared at it, wrestling with herself. Flashes of her death flickered in front of her eyes like a sped up slide show, and she had to turn away from it. No. It was a reminder of a terrible experience, of a life she didn’t have any more. There was no use clinging to it, like a piece of driftwood in the middle of the sea. Besides, she could do without reminders of how she died.
When the soldier found the last of the dogtags and Pressly’s datapad, she found herself standing at the terminal that looked suspiciously like the one Kaidan had always worked at. Her mind’s eye brought forth the image of him fiddling with it, bent down in that way that pushed his bum out that at any other time would have been enticing, humming a song as he worked with dexterous fingers...
The Commander shook her head and strode away, back to the memorial. She’d managed to regain her composure when she was stood in front of it, the white letters spelling out ‘Normandy’ behind it. It almost felt as if it was wondering what she was going to say when she cleared her throat.
“This monument is dedicated to those who lost their lives in the Collector Attack, and didn’t have the fame to be resurrected. You will be remembered.” Shepard activated her omnitool to read the names.
“Jarmin Bukari. Germeen Barrett. Addison Chase. Silas Crosby. Rosamund and Talitha Draven. Alexei Dubyanski. Hector Emerson. Robert Felawa. Harvey J. Gladstone. Caroline Grenado. Marcus Grieco. Orden Laflamme. Helen M. Lowe. Monica Negulesco. Abishek Pakti. Charles Pressly. Mandira Rahman. Raymond Tanaka. Carlton Tucks. Amina Waaben.” She lowered her arm.
“And the Normandy herself. You bore us loyally across the cosmos and fought valiantly against Sovereign and the enemy that claimed your life. May you rest in peace,” she looked up at the vehicle before her. “Watch over them, Mako. This too will be your resting place, but this memorial will stand beside you as a testament to your strength. You were damaged, you were broken, but you were never defeated, not even as sit here.”
Akeelah sighed.
“I hope I can borrow your strength in these trying times. I surely need it.”
After a moment of pause, she felt a need bubble through her, a way to discharge the sorrow and pain building inside her. It reminded her of the aftermath of Virmire, how she had cried and been so angry at herself and the geth and she’d found a single outlet...
Akeelah raised her head to the sky, amidst the falling snowflakes, and began to sing.
“Where has the starlight gone?
Dark is the day,
How can I find my way home?
Home is an empty dream,
Lost to the night,
Kaidan, I feel so alone
You promised you’d be there,
Whenever I needed you,
But whenever I call your name,
You’re not anywhere
I’m trying to hold on,
Just waiting to see your smile,
One word, just a glance will do,
To end this nightmare.”
She closed her eyes, submitting to the song, glad only the remains of the Normandy and the Mako could hear her.
“When will the dawning break?
Oh, endless night,
Sleepless, I dream of the day,
When you were by my side,
Guarding my flank,
Kaidan, I can’t find the way,
You promised you’d be there,
Whenever I needed you,
But whenever I call your name,
You’re not anywhere,
I’m trying to hold on,
Just waiting to see your smile,
One word, just a glance will do,
To end this nightmare.”
Shepard began to chant to herself, dimly feeling her tears burning her eyes and squeezing out between her eyelashes.
“I know that the night must end,
And that the sun will rise,
And that the sun will rise,
I know that the clouds must clear,
And that the sun will shine,
And that the sun will shine,
I know,
Yes, I know,
The sun will rise,
Yes, I know,
I know,
The clouds must clear,
I know that the night must end,
I know that the sun must rise,
And I’ll hear the voice deep inside,
I know that the night must end,
And that the clouds must clear,
The sun,
And the sun will,
The sun,
And the sun will rise!“
As the last note died in the cold air, Akeelah opened her wet eyes and brought her gaze back to the memorial. After a moment, she saluted, holding it for four quick heartbeats before dropping it, turning away and walking back to the shuttle without looking back.
As she sat down and took the controls, she thought back to the song, still echoing in her mind.
‘I know that the clouds must clear, and that the sun must rise. I can get through this. Somehow.’
and i'm wondering which doctor it is that he goes out with briefly?
Michel? or perhaps an older gentleman? (this, i totally see. . .someone like Chakwas who's served on an Alliance frigate, who's trying his hand stability on the Citadel but finding the call to action hard to ignore. . .finding someone like Alenko intriguing and necessary. . .)
