And We Shall Overcome

A.N. This is a tale starting around the time of Mass Effect 3's beginning. In this tale, the Citadel Council DID heed Shepard's warning about the Reapers at the end of the original Mass Effect, and by this point the galaxy is militarized to a point that would make most military dictators blush. This was not an attempt to avoid political BS, but rather to avoid the game's unspeakably bad conclusion. The events of Mass Effect 2 are essentially unchanged.

John Shepard stood by the window of his apartment, looking out over the metropolis of Vancouver. This was, in fact, his home city. His early years had been spent with the Reds, a petty gang that, when he had joined, had held a very small portion of the lowest levels of the city. During those days, the Reds had simply been a group of desperate people, the same as the orphaned Shepard, who had banded together for survival in the criminal underworld of Earth's major cities.

However, in the years approaching John's 18th birthday, that had changed; the Reds had begun gaining territory and influence, not just in Vancouver, but in cities across the Earth's western hemisphere. They were running drugs and illegal weapons, they slaughtering smaller gangs for kicks, and were pressuring ordinary citizens for protection money.

They had become the menace that the gang had originally been formed to protect itself from, and Sheppard was disgusted with it.

So, the minute he turned eighteen, Shepard had packed his belongings, nailed an FU message to the gang leaders to his apartment door, and signed on with the Systems Alliance Marine Corps.

And the rest, single-handedly stopping the Skyllian Blitz, becoming the first human Specter, tracking down Saren, stopping the Reaper Sovereign, and obliterating the Collectors, was history.

A small movement on a nearby skyscraper's rooftop brought him out of his reminiscing. A young boy, no more than six or seven years old, ran around atop the building, a model of an Alliance fighter in his outstretched hand, laughing, and clearly having a wonderful time. Shepard sighed, a sad smile on his face. War was, to a child, just another grand adventure to be had. Living his own childhood in gangland, followed by over a decade in the N7 marines, had taught him the truth.

War, to quote an old Earth general, was HELL.

Hearing a beeping sound coming from his information pad, Shepard picked it up, and opened the new message. It said that the one of the Alliance's new dreadnought-class warships, the SSV McKinley, had just finished construction, in a record three months.

Shepard smiled grimly. The governments that answered to Citadel Council authority, namely humans, turians, asari, salarians, elcor, volus, hanar, and drell, had, after his death while hunting for rouge geth, uncovered further evidence of the Reapers, ancient, sentient warships that wiped out all sufficiently advanced organic life every 50,000 years, including several derelict Reaper ships that were millions, and in one case a billion, years old. This, combined with the Reaper called Sovereign's attack on the Citadel, was enough to finally convince the governments of the galaxy that the Reapers were a real threat.

In the two years it took Cerberus, a human-supremacist terrorist group, to rebuild and revive him, the galaxy had undergone mass militarization to prepare for the synthetic onslaught. The Treaty of Farixen, which limited the number of dreadnought-class vessels allowed to each species, was repelled, and all Citadel species had expanded their fleets unhindered. By the time Shepard had destroyed the Collector base and broken ties with Cerberus, the Turian Hierarchy had 112 dreadnoughts, the asari 96, the salarians 81, the Alliance 84, with seven more under construction, and the volus, hanar, and elcor each had one. In addition to battleships, each race had also constructed dozens of carriers, hundreds of cruisers and frigates, and thousands of fighters. And that was just the naval forces.

The ground forces of the combined ground armies of Council Space numbered just over 8.5 billion active duty soldiers, with a further 14 in reserve; a full fifteen percent of the total population of Council Space was under arms. The majority of the rank-and-file infantry came from the Turian Hierarchy, while the remaining races provided more elite units, notably the asari commandos and salarian STG. Humanity, while smaller in number than the other races of the galaxy, had still devoted considerable numbers to the build up; 2 of Earth's 11.4 billion people were already off planet, in various Alliance postings.

Almost all manufacturing, mining, and distribution companies across all governments had been nationalized, none-military supplies had been rationed, and every asteroid and uninhabitable planet had been strip mined to fuel the war effort, though life-bearing and habitable worlds were left alone for future colonization, provided the civilizations of the galaxy were victorious.

The call to arms was not only in the sheer numbers of the armed forces, but also in advances in military technology. The Thanix Cannon, developed by the turian military and first used by Commander Shepard's ship, the Normandy SR2, against the collectors, had quickly replaced mass accelerator guns on most warships. In addition, the Thanix technology had been harnessed to improve surface artillery. Combined with improved kinetic barriers and heat dispersal systems, the fleets of the Citadel races could now hit harder, fight longer, and take more damage.

And they would need every advantage they could come up with against the Reapers.

Hearing a soft sigh, Shepard looked up, and smiled. Lying on his bed was his girlfriend, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. She was a quarian, a race that had been driven from its home world after their robotic labor force, called the geth, had achieved sentience and had won the resulting war. For the next three centuries, her people had wandered the galaxy in a massive flotilla called The Migrant Fleet, just trying to survive.

Tali and Shepard had met at the beginning of his hunt for Seran; Tali had uncovered evidence that proved that the Spectre had gone rogue. Ever since then, she had always supported Shepard, even during his brief time working with Cerberus. And, during their campaign against the collectors, their friendship had blossomed into love, and the two had become a couple. Last night had been the first time they had seen each other for several weeks; Shepard was essentially under house arrest, with very limited visitor time, and Tali had recently been elected to a position as Admiral.

Shepard had done everything he could to assist her people since they had met. About a year ago, the Alliance found a habitable planet within its borders, but was unable to launch colonization efforts because the life forms of the planet had DNA formed from dextro-amino acids, which were incompatible with human systems, as Earth's life was formed from levo-amino acids. With this in mind, Shepard had put forward the suggestion, both to Tali and the Alliance, that the world be given to the quarians. The Alliance, knowing that the Migrant Fleet contained 50,000 ships, all of which had some level of armament, had agreed almost immediately, the only nay-sayers being those with racist views towards the quarians; they were quickly silenced.

The debate was far more volatile and drawn out with the Migrant Fleet. While the Conclave, the civilian government, agreed to the arrangement by a very slim margin, the Admiralty Board, the quarian military leaders, was in deadlock for a long time. Tali and Admiral Zaal'Korris, the representative of the civilian ships, both pushed for accepting the colony offer, while Admirals Han'Garrel and Daro'Xen, the former the leader of the Fleet's heavy warships, supported launching an assault on the geth to reclaim the quarian home world, Rannoch. Admiral Shala'Raan, leader of the Flotilla's scouting vessels and fighters, was indecisive on the matter.

Eventually, Zaal'Korris had lost all patience with his opponents, and declared that if they insisted on the counter-productive war with the geth, than the civilian ships would leave the flotilla and accept the Alliances deal independently. As these ships contained the Fleet's farmers, miners, and other support structures, their leaving would mean disaster for the other sections of the fleet. This bombshell had finally persuaded Shala'Raan to side with Zaal'Korris and Tali. Since then, the quarians had established themselves on their new home, which had been named Tikkun, after the star Rannoch orbited, and the Migrant Fleet had been outfitted with the weapons and systems necessary to combat the Reapers, boosting the total military strength of the galactic armada by tens of thousands of ships.

Coming back to the present, John walked over to his lover, sat down on the side of the bed, and whispered, "Awake yet, dear?"

Tali groaned, and then blinked rapidly, coming up to the sitting position. "Keelah," she said, "I thought I said to wake me up at eight, Shepard."

"It IS eight, Tali," Shepard smirked.

"My internal clock disagrees with you," the quarian women muttered. Pushing the blankets off of her, she stood up, saying, "I need to go call Shala; I told her I would send a report on what was going on Earth to Nova Rannoch." She began walking toward the apartment's communication consul, only to be stopped as Shepard locked an arm around her waist.

"How about," he whispered in her ear, "we do something ELSE."

"Sheppard, stop it; the admirals will be concerned if I don't report on time."

John just smiled even more widely. "I'm sure they will understand. You know how humans love to…drag things out."

"John, stop it," Tali complained, though with no real determination in her voice.

Knowing he had won, John wrapped his other arm around her chest, resting his hand on her opposite shoulder, and began kissing her on the side of the neck. Just as Tali began reaching to return the embrace, however, they both heard the doorbell ring.

Lowering his head, John whispered, "Damn it." Then, he turned around, and called, "Come in."

The door parted, and through the entrance stepped an enormous bear of a man; Lieutenant James Vega, Alliance Marine, and Shepard's glorified jail man. While he was not receptive to the role, Shepard liked Vega personally; he reminded him of himself when he had first joined the marines, all gung-ho and ready to fight, but fully aware of what war really was. It was a deadly combination.

Snapping a salute, Vega said, "Commander."

"You're not supposed to call me that anymore, James," Sheppard said.

Smirking slightly, James replied, "I'm not supposed to salute you either." Immediately becoming serious again, he continued. "We've gotta go. The defense committee wants to speak with you."

"Sounds important," John commented. He and Tali followed the lieutenant out the door, discovering the building was abuzz with activity; Alliance naval personnel and marines ran around everywhere, trading words, data pads, and reports.

Catching up with James, John asked, "What's going on?"

"Couldn't say," Vega replied. "Was just told they needed you."

The trio skidded to a halt as a man in an admiral's uniform approached them. It was Admiral Anderson, formerly humanity's first Councilor, and Shepard's old commanding officer and mentor. James Vega immediately saluted; as Tali and Sheppard were both considered civilians, they did not perform the gesture, though Shepard had to stop his arm from rising automatically.

"Admiral," Shepard said.

Anderson reached out and shook John's hand, while the group continued on their way. "You look good, Shepard," the man said. "Maybe a little soft around the edges," he added, patting John on the stomach. "How have you been holding up since being relieved from duty?"

"It's almost tolerable," John replied mockingly. "Once you get used to the hot food, soft beds, and beautiful quarians thereupon."

His cheek earned him a punch from Tali.

Anderson chuckled. "Don't worry; we'll get it sorted out."

"What's going on," John asked. "Why is everyone in such a hurry?"

"Admiral Hackett's mobilizing the fleets," Anderson explained. "I'm guessing the news has already reached Alliance Command; something BIG is headed our way."

Shepard stopped at the foot of stairway they were about to climb, dread clutching his heart. "The Reapers," he asked.

"We don't know," was Anderson's reply.

"Who else COULD it be?!"

"If I knew that…."

John's eyes narrowed. "Do you think that we're ready for them?"

Anderson's mouth narrowed into a thin line. "I don't think we CAN be ready for them. But I think we're as prepared as we'll ever be. Come on; we need to get to the committee." With that, the group continued up the stairway.

"Unless your plan is to talk the Reapers to death, this committee is a waste of time," John snapped. He had always hated politics, waiting around and talking when they could be DOING something.

"They're just scarred," Anderson said, trying to placate his protégé. "None of them have seen what you've seen. You've faced down a Reaper. Hell, you SPOKE with one, and then blew the damn thing up! You know more about this enemy than anyone."

"Is that why they grounded me," Shepard snapped. "Took away my ship?"

Anderson stopped dead, looked Shepard in the face, and snapped, "You KNOW that's not true. When you destroyed the batarian relay, hundreds of thousands of batarians died."

"It was that or let the Reapers walk through our back door," Shepard shot back. The incident, though horrible to him, was unavoidable, and John stood by his decision.

"I know that Sheppard. And so does the committee," Anderson said. "If it wasn't for that, you'd have been court-martialed, and executed as a war criminal."

"Not if I could help it," Tali muttered under her breath.

"Let's go," Anderson finally said. "We're wasting time."

Passing through a set of double doors, the group came up to a desk in the fore room for the defense committee's chambers. "Admiral," an officer said. "They're expecting you two."

Following the officer, the group walked down the hallway leading toward the meeting room. Halfway down, a familiar soldier came up from the opposite end.

"Anderson," she said. Then, she spotted John. "Shepard," she called.

Spinning around, John looked at her in shock. "Ashley?"

"Lieutenant-Commander," Anderson interrupted. "How did it go in there?"

"I can never tell with them," Shepard's former crewmate, and ex-girlfriend, replied. "I'm just waiting for orders now."

Coming up beside Anderson, John asked, "Lieutenant-Commander?"

"You hadn't heard," Anderson responded.

"No," Shepard said. "I'm a bit out of the loop these days." Stealing a glance out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tali bristle with anger; this was the situation he had been hoping to avoid.

"Sorry, sir," Ashley said. "I didn't mean to keep you out of the loop." She looked at him with a pleading expression. Their last meeting, wherein Ashley had called him a traitor and inform him that she was through with him, had, needless to say, gone badly, and she was still hopeful that she still had a shot with him. Deciding to diffuse this powder keg before it blew, Shepard decided to end the discussion immediately.

"I'm sure you had your reasons," he responded coldly. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do."

And with that he walked past Ashley Williams without another word or backward glance. The footsteps behind him told him that Anderson was accompanying him. Passing through the double doors, he found himself in a room with several communications station at the sides, with a large, curved table at the opposite end, whereupon sat the Alliance's defense committee.

Spotting them, one of the councilors spoke up. "Admiral Anderson. Shepard."

"What is the situation?" Shepard asked.

"We were hoping you would tell us," the councilor replied. One of the lesser officers on the floor passed Shepard a data pad.

"The reports coming in are unlike anything we have ever seen before," one of the other councilors, the only women among them, said. "Whole colonies have gone dark; we have lost contact with everything beyond the Sol Relay."

The first councilor spoke up. "Whatever this is, it is incomprehensibly powerful."

John took one glance at the data pad in his hand, then looked the councilors in their eyes and said, "You have brought me here to confirm what you already know."

He spoke the last part of his declaration to the room at large.

"The Reapers are HERE!"