Epilogue: The Parting of the Ways

A feeling of deep melancholy lingered on the Normandy long after the Infinity had departed with Admiral Hackett and John-117 aboard. The last time that Shepard had felt this low was when her friend Ashley Williams had sacrificed herself to make sure an enemy facility was destroyed. Ash had given her life to give Shepard a chance to save the galaxy; now, however, Shepard felt as if she had ritually slaughtered all those Batarians. There was little anyone could say or do to console her. So it was with a heavy heart that she met with the ten members of her squad in the Normandy's briefing room. Anderson was also there, looking around at each face in turn. They had all aided Shepard in her hour of need, but now none of them could help her. He was relieved that Hackett had given her squad amnesty and time to get their affairs in order; after all that they had done for this galaxy, it would be too much for them to be arrested. Shepard had accepted the burden of responsibility for herself, as any good leader did, and the weight of that burden seemed to show on her face as she spoke to all of the crew through the ship's intercom:

"Attention all hands. As you know we were recently boarded by Admiral Hackett and Admiral Anderson when we rendezvoused with the Infinity. Officially I am to be arrested for what happened in the Bahak System, and as you all worked for Cerberus the United Nations Space Command will call for your arrest as well. Admiral Anderson cannot guarantee the protection of any crew members still on board. We have been given one week to get our affairs in order, after which time the UNSC fleets will be within their rights to detain the Normandy and anyone left on board.

"As of today, I will not be in command of the Normandy. Admiral Anderson will be in charge; if you have any queries, direct them to him. In the meantime, if you wish to leave, change into civilian clothing. If there is any particular destination you wish to be dropped off, send Joker the coordinates." She paused for a moment, heaving a deep sigh. "I have been proud to have all of you as my crew, and I wish you all the best of luck out there. Remember that the Reapers are still coming, and I hope all of you will remember that they will never win, not while there are people still left to fight them. Good luck, and Godspeed." With that, she signed off.

"This isn't right, Shepard," Garrus Vakarian snarled, the dark eyes set in his skull-like Turian face narrowed. "You did the only thing you could do to buy us more time to prepare for the Reapers. They can't punish you for trying to save the galaxy!"

"No, Garrus," said Shepard, shaking her head. "Remember what I told you two years ago? The minute you start hurting civilians, you become a criminal with a badge."

"Shepard is right," said Samara, the Asari peering around the room with her bright blue eyes. "The Code forbids me from interfering in legal matters once a criminal is captured. Otherwise, for killing civilians, I would have to kill Shepard the moment I am released from my oath."

"Fuck your code!" shouted a wiry human woman, her hair bald and her body covered in tattoos, beating her fist into the table. "What the fuck else was Shepard supposed to do?" She glared at a pale-skinned woman with long hair stood opposite her, somehow looking rather provocative. "For that matter, why couldn't the cheerleader work her voodoo and get those colonists the fuck outta there?"

"Ex-cheerleader," spat the woman, Miranda Lawson, in reply. "I don't work for Cerberus anymore, in case you forgot already. As for why I couldn't teleport the colonists to safety, for one thing, I had no idea what was going on. None of us did. The Array doesn't show us Technomancers the future. For another thing, it would take a Technomantic Master to move that many colonists in such a short space of time, and I'm definitely not a Master." She folded her arms, her eyes narrowed. "Satisfied, Jack?"

Jack, the tattooed woman, just snorted and threw up her arms in surrender. "Always a fucking excuse," she muttered. "Vakarian's right, though; this ain't right at all."

"Shepard has no match as a Battlemaster," snarled Grunt, the young tank-created Krogan whose tortoise-like face glowered at Anderson. "Lock her up and you throw away your greatest weapon against the Reapers."

"I appreciate that some of you view this as a big injustice," said Anderson, his brow furrowed. "Hell, I already said that Shepard would be getting a medal if it was up to me. However, half the galaxy wants her dead for what she's done. Even the Council have refused to back her up; they reckon she's turning out just like Saren, an embarrassment to the Spectres. However, the Council still allows its member races to exercise autonomy, and at least if Shepard is in UNSC custody we can keep her safe from reprisals. Don't forget that her turning herself in is also the reason all of you will still be free, so I suggest you respect her choice. You owe her that much."

There was an awkward silence. Shepard looked into all of the anxious faces of her squad. They came from all corners of the galaxy, this band of misfits and outcasts who had all come together to perform the impossible. Now they had to part ways, in terrible circumstances, having to take their only chance at freedom.

"So what will all of you be doing?" asked Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, the small Quarian in her ornate environment suit. "Just because we're all leaving doesn't mean we should break contact."

"Shepard will be unable to contact any of you once she's in custody," said Anderson. "That's one of the conditions for her imprisonment. However, there's nothing stopping all of you from keeping in touch, keeping yourselves prepared for when the Reapers arrive."

"I appreciate the sentiment," said Miranda, "but I'm going as deep underground as I possibly can, and I suggest none of you try to find me. I'll go so far as to corrupt my own file in the Array if I can. I was the head of the Lazarus Cell, and the Illusive Man's second-in-command. I know things he wouldn't want me to make public, and frankly I don't trust anyone but myself to keep me safe." She sighed, her eyes closing. "He also knows where Oriana and her family are. I've got to make arrangements so that he never finds them. They're not gonna be put in danger because of me. I won't let that happen."

"I've got a job to do as well," said the dark-skinned Jacob Taylor, cracking his knuckles. "There are still good people in Cerberus' ranks. I'm gonna try and persuade as many as I can of the truth, get 'em all on our side."

"So what of the rest of you?" asked Shepard, looking around into the faces of each of her squad.

"I intend to continue as I did before," said Samara, her hands behind her back. "I will roam Asari space as I did before, as all Justicars do. Perhaps I will spend time with my remaining daughters. They are at a monastery for Ardat-Yakshi, isolated from the galaxy for their protection and the safety of others. If the Reapers arrive, I wish for there to be no regrets between myself and my surviving family."

"I too have family matters that I must attend to," said Thane Krios, a Drell who looked around at Shepard with his large dark eyes. "My doctors have given me another eight to twelve months, and I do not doubt that the Reapers will be arriving sooner. I wish to spend what time I have left patching things up with my son, Kolyat."

"Shepard-Commander," a robotic voice droned from one end of the large table. The voice came from Legion, the name of the collection of over 1,000 Geth programs contained inside the mobile platform that stood there, regarding Shepard with its single lit optic for an eye. Even after the schism between the true Geth and the 'Heretics' had been removed thanks to Shepard's efforts, she knew that the galaxy at large still considered the Geth to be their enemy. She saw Anderson's eyes fall on the piece of her old armour strapped to its chest, his chest heaving with a slight sigh.

"We must return to the Consensus on Rannoch," the drone continued. "Eject an escape pod close to the Perseus Veil and we will send out a signal for our recovery by a Geth vessel. Sending the Normandy beyond the Veil itself is not advised."

"That's right," muttered Tali, shaking her head. "The Geth have shot down any ship that enters their space."

"We practice a form of isolationism," said Legion. "We deemed it necessary to safeguard ourselves from organics. The Morning War against the Creators brought us to the conclusion that organics must seek to control or exterminate all synthetics. Our experiences on the Normandy crew will be shared with the rest of the Consensus. They show that circumstances have changed, that mutual co-operation with organics can prove to be beneficial."

"I'm glad your time here has left you with a positive impression," said Shepard.

"Legion," Tali chimed in suddenly, sounding nervous. "My people will never wish to admit it, but we need the help of the Geth when the Reapers arrive. Would it be possible for us to maintain contact, if there is any chance we can come to an arrangement for co-operation?"

"We would be grateful, Creator Tali'Zorah," said Legion, the metal plates on its head that mimicked eyebrows quivering.

"What about you, Jack?" asked Thane, turning to the tattooed woman. "Do you have no-one that you can return to?"

"Hell no," shrugged Jack. "I don't know who my folks are, and even if they're still alive, they wouldn't know who the fuck I am either. Just drop me off on Omega and I'll make my own way."

"Your file says that you're a damn powerful psion," said Anderson. "Not to mention that you're a career criminal. However, we've got a whole lot of psionic teens in Grissom Academy who could use someone with your abilities to show 'em the ropes. We're willing to wipe the slate clean if you accept; your helping Shepard's earned you a reprieve."

"You'd trust me with someone else's fucking kids?!" replied Jack, her eyebrows arching. "You're crazy."

"Maybe," said Anderson, "but the offer's gonna stay open regardless. Head to Grissom Academy if you decide to join up. Talk to Kahlee Sanders; tell her I sent you and she'll set you up."

Jack didn't reply, but leaned on the table staring at her own arms. Shepard looked around at every member of her team, releasing a deep sigh.

"Let Joker know where you wanna be dropped off," she said. "We'll head for the Perseus Veil first, then from there to Omega and wherever else you want to be headed." She peered into each face in turn, nodding. "It's been an honour for me to fight alongside all of you, and perhaps one day we'll fight side-by-side again, to drive the Reapers out of this galaxy once and for all. Dismissed."

She saluted to all of them. Only Jacob and Miranda returned the salute formally; the others all nodded or bowed to acknowledge their leader. Then they all stepped out of the room, preparing to be separated. All of them knew, however, that none of them could return to any semblance of a normal life, not with Cerberus on their heels and the Reapers doubtless soon tearing their way through Batarian space. As Shepard watched them all leave, she felt a sense of foreboding, knowing that she was to go into UNSC custody, which carried a great sense of uncertainty over whether she would see any of them again. It would be tough to say goodbye to all of them. She leaned on the table, burying her face in her hands.

"They'll be fine, Commander," said Anderson, gently rubbing her shoulder. "They all look like a hell of a squad. I'm sure we'll see them again."

"God, I hope so," breathed Shepard.

0

2347, September 28, 2560 (Military Time)\Omega

Lt. James Vega of the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers thought that his life could not possibly get any worse. He felt as if he had been cursed from the moment he had started smuggling red sand for his abusive father. The only useful thing he felt his old man had taught him was how easy it was for traumatic events to destroy someone if they let it do so. Vega had vowed that he would never end up like that, but Lord knew how he had come so close to snapping himself. Even now, on Omega, he felt as if he was coming close to breaking that vow.

It had all started as a simple game of cards, in some seedy bar off the beaten path. He had never been one to frequent Afterlife; it was too high-class for his liking (as high class as anything on Omega could get, anyway). That was before the news had come on. For the past few days they had repeated the same story; the ongoing investigation into why the first human Spectre had decided to destroy a Mass Relay and blow up an entire Batarian system. While the Council and the UNSC worked damage control, denying any and all involvement, the four-eyed aliens were of course calling it a terrorist attack, an act of war, and were calling for Shepard's head on a pike.

When it had become too much, Vega had proceeded to pull the monitor off the wall and beat up a bunch of Batarians. They had accused him of being a Shepard-lover. Of course they had every right to be pissed off about losing a system, but to believe Shepard to be a terrorist was going too far. The fight had finally been broken up by Anderson, who even now was leading Vega towards his ship, the grime of the former mining colony seeming to cling to every surface.

"It's time you got over the incident on Fehl Prime," Anderson was saying as they walked towards the docking bay. "Time for you to be the soldier we expect of you." Looking out of the window for a moment Vega was surprised to see that they seemed to be heading towards the Normandy.

"No disrespect, sir," Vega drawled, wiping blood that spilled from a cut on his forehead as they walked down the docking cradle to the ship, "but I'd rather not get over it."

"You're a damned fool if you think I'm gonna let a soldier as good as you piss your life away in this shithole," barked Anderson. "You're coming with me to Earth now," he finished, placing extra emphasis on the last word.

"Forget it," replied Vega, shaking his hand. "There's nothing for me there."

"I've got something for you," said Anderson, above the sound of the decontamination units in the airlock. "Something you haven't had before."

"Just throw me in the goddamned brig and be done with it!" barked Vega, following Anderson onto the ship itself. A disgusted snarl curled his lips when he saw the Cerberus logo on the walls of the ship; he seemed to take the fact that this organisation dared to associate itself with this ship as a personal insult.

"You're not far off, Lieutenant," said Anderson. "Only you'll be guarding the brig. One prisoner in-particular..." His eyes looked downcast as he led Vega across the ship to the elevator. Heading down into the cargo bay, Vega's dark brown eyes widened when he saw a woman there, training on a large punching bag hanging from the high ceiling, a woman he recognised from the news but never thought he would actually meet.

"Commander... Shepard?" he spluttered. The woman landed one last hard punch on the bag before stepping away from it, her eyes falling on Anderson and Vega and walking over to them.

"Anderson," said Shepard, "who's this?"

"Your probation officer," said Anderson. "This is Lt. James Vega. He's an ODST just like you were. He's also gone up against the Collectors, so I thought you two would have something in common. We need people who understand the scale of the threat we face close to us right now." He turned with his eyes narrowed to Vega. "That's assuming he doesn't go pulling any more stunts like in that bar. Those Batarians are out for human blood, and they're looking for any excuse."

Vega looked between Shepard and Anderson, looking puzzled, then his expression growing dark as he turned to Anderson.

"Lemme guess," he said. "Those idiotas in HICOM want her under lock and key for what happened in the Bahak System."

"It's out of my hands, Vega," sighed Anderson. "We'll do what we can, but we need to keep up appearances for when the UNSC arrives to pick up Shepard. I'll leave you two to get to know each other while we head for the Migrant Fleet to drop off Tali." Without waiting to hear another word from either Shepard or Vega, he stepped back towards the elevator and went back up to the command deck.

"So I guess you know my service record?" said Vega, folding his arms. "After what Anderson said, anyway."

"Actually, I don't," replied Shepard. "I haven't had access to UNSC personnel files for a while."

"Right..." muttered Vega, cracking his knuckles and nodding to the punching bag. "Reckon you can dance and talk at the same time?"

"Oh, I can dance," nodded Shepard. "Don't let my good looks fool you. I've got more than my share of scars."

She and Vega stepped into the centre of the cargo bay, facing each other, then raising their fists in boxing poses. Shepard threw the first punches, which Vega blocked, a smirk forming on his face.

"You remind me of my old CO," he chuckled, returning some punches, which Shepard ably dodged.

"Oh yeah?" asked Shepard, advancing on Vega, her swings becoming stronger. "Who was that?"

"Captain Toni," said Vega, his expression becoming more grim. "He was a hard-assed son of a bitch, but a good leader." He struck at Shepard again, forcing her to go on the defensive, her arms raised to block his punches.

"Was?" asked Shepard.

"Died," said Vega, stepping to Shepard's left, "with most of my squad, protecting a civilian colony from a Collector attack." His eyes narrowed and never left Shepard's as he swung again, forcing her to lean back.

"And the colony?"

"It was either them," snarled Vega, swinging at her again, "or the intel we had on the Collectors. Intel we could've used to destroy them." His swings became more vicious, his teeth gritted. "I chose the intel."

"Sorry..." said Shepard, backing away from him. "That's a tough call." She was vividly reminded of the incident on Virmire two years ago, when she was also caught in a no-win situation, forced to leave behind a friend to die.

"The best part," spat Vega, panting, "was that we didn't really need that data in the end... 'cos you were out saving the galaxy by taking down the entire Collector homeworld." He swung harder than ever, his muscles seeming to burst out of his arms from his exertion.

"You didn't know," replied Shepard, ducking and weaving away from his strikes. "You can't blame yourself, Vega."

"Who says I'm blaming myself?" spat Vega. He was taken by surprise when Shepard swung her fists, striking him in the face.

"I do," she said.

"You a shrink too?" he retorted.

"No," grunted Shepard, "but it sounds like you pulled a pretty damn reckless stunt out there."

"So?"

"So," snarled Shepard. "Maybe you don't care if you live or die."

"Maybe," Vega yelled, swinging his fists, "What the fuck do you care?!"

He swung out in anger, and this time Shepard was ready for him. Catching his arm, she stepped to one side and tripped him, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Because we're facing a war with the Collectors' master," said Shepard as Vega pulled himself up. "We need all the help we can get, and if you're half as good as Anderson seems to think you are, then we need you alive."

Vega panted, now starting to feel the exhaustion from his workout catching up to him. He worked out every day, but it had been a long time since anyone had given him such a vigorous exercise regime, both physically and mentally. He had spent so long living with his mistake; it was a burden he felt he had to carry by himself, but this session with Shepard had been strangely cathartic.

"Thanks for the pep talk," he grunted.

"Anytime," replied Shepard, herself wiping away the sweat that was forming on her brow.

"Thanks for the dance, Lola."

"Lola, huh?" asked Shepard, her eyebrow arching. She didn't think she had met anyone like Vega, who seemed to be simultaneously a good soldier but also one with little regard for protocol.

"You kinda look like a Lola," said Vega, rubbing the back of his stubbled, scarred head with a sheepish grin. He had the habit of giving people nicknames that he felt suited them, simply because he found them easier to remember.

"You're cute," Shepard chuckled, in spite of herself, "so I'll let you get away with it, for now."

Deciding that he should probably stop there before he put his foot in it, Vega walked out of the cargo bay to take a look around the ship and get used to it. He didn't feel comfortable being on a ship that still had Cerberus logos plastered all over the walls, but that wasn't something a bit of paint couldn't fix. He had had a lot of ideas in his head about Commander Shepard, having followed her exploits for a long time, and it turned out that she was not entirely what he had come to expect from her. Still, there was ample time to get to know her, since it looked like, as his probation officer, it would be his job requirement to spend a lot of time in her company.

0

1215, October 1, 2560 (Military Time)\ Palaven

As the days passed, more and more crew members left the ship to go their own separate ways. Most of them left on Illium, doubtless to catch other ships heading to parts unknown. As discreetly as she possibly could do so with a UNSC Admiral on board overseeing the ship, EDI had taken the trouble to organise new IDs for those crew members who left, as they were sure to be flagged at checkpoints as known Cerberus agents. No-one was fond of leaving, as they wanted to stay and help Shepard any way they could, but the facts were unavoidable. For their own protection, they had to leave.

By the time the Normandy had reached Tuchanka to drop off Grunt, only Shepard, Garrus, Anderson, Joker, Dr. Chakwas and the engineers Daniels and Donnelly remained. They were still necessary to keep the ship in working order, but they also didn't want to leave Shepard's side. Perhaps they all held some faint hope that they could do something to help Shepard in this hour of need. Even when Anderson had explained the consequences of this – that they would surely be court-marshalled for working with Cerberus – they had insisted on remaining on board.

"A good friend will pay your bail," Joker said on the matter, "but a true friend is in that jail cell with you. Besides, it's not like I can outrun the Alliance for long with my creaky legs."

Shepard's squad all departed at various stops. Legion was deposited as he had requested close to the Perseus Veil, while Tali had returned to the Migrant Fleet. Samara had been dropped off on an isolated planet in Asari space that housed an Ardat-Yakshi monastery, a place where those with the rare genetic disorder unique to the Asari could live in peace, as much to protect the galaxy from them as the other way around. Jack had left the crew on Omega to try and get as far away from anyone connected to Cerberus as possible. Mordin left on Omega too, doubtless to check on his clinic for one more time, though he mentioned that he would seek passage to the Salarian homeworld of Sur'kesh very soon to see to 'unfinished business'.

Miranda and Jacob had left on Illium with the rest of the Normandy crew, doubtless to go their own ways and pursue their own agendas. Thane had left for the Citadel to spend what was left of his time with his son. Grunt was dropped off on the Krogan homeworld of Tuchanka, where he would rejoin the Urdnot clan. As it turned out, the clan chief Urdnot Wrex, an old friend and ally of Shepard's, had been visited by mutual acquaintances the month before; the mutant Alan Tyler had been there on his Firefly-class transport ship Serenity, escorting the Precursor Emperor Kedzuel on a guided tour of the galaxy. Apparently, the Emperor had made quite a stir among the Krogan people.

"So he really did beat up your brother?" asked Shepard, while they had been discussing the visit.

"Yup," said Wrex, releasing a deep chuckle. "That pretty-boy doesn't look like he's fought a day in his life, but he kicked Wreav's sorry ass from one end of the Proving Grounds to the other. It'll be good to have guys like him on our side when the Reapers show up. I've already given my support, especially as he's promised to help restore Tuchanka when the war's over."

"I wish to spar with him myself someday," said Grunt, smirking. "I wanna see if he's really as powerful as everyone says his kind are."

"Maybe one day," said Wrex. "In the meantime, I need you here to help me keep these near-sighted idiots focused on fighting the Reapers. I'm putting together a special squad, and I want you as their Battlemaster."

Grunt nodded, before turning back to Shepard. "Shepard will always be my Battlemaster," said Grunt. "She has no match, even when she does that funny talking thing that humans do."

"Why do you think we leave the talking to the humans?" Wrex chuckled. "I sure as hell don't wanna end up talking my way into a galactic war."

Now only Garrus remained, the Normandy docking at a spaceport in Cipritine, the capital of the Turian homeworld of Palaven. The planet's weak magnetic field meant that there was very little shielding from the sun's rays, but the native wildlife had adapted in an extraordinary manner, with animal life developing metallic carapaces. It was small wonder that the Turian people had evolved to be a hardy and highly-disciplined race. The great city of Cipritine reflected the martial Turian society, as the whole city with its great angular skyscrapers was heavily fortified, though doubt remained as to whether such fortifications could hold if subjected to a sustained Reaper assault.

Shepard was not allowed to leave the ship itself, but she and Garrus stood inside the airlock as the ship approached the docking cradle. There was a hissing noise and several loud thudding noises as the docking clamps locked the ship into place. Garrus closed his eyes and sighed and Shepard looked at him, suspecting that this was more than a lament that today, at this moment, the alliance that they had forged to fight the Collectors was truly coming to an end.

"What's on your mind, Garrus?" she asked.

"I was just thinking about this war that's coming," he said. "We're already starting to hear the rumours coming out of Batarian space; attacks in their systems, strange disappearances, and so on. The Hegemony's denying it all, of course, and they're still calling for your head. Don't be surprised if they start saying that you're the Reaper overlord, or something." He folded his arms, his eyes closed. "We all know what's going on, and yet nobody's lifting a damn finger to go in there and help, no matter if the Batarians want it or not. I've no love for Batarians – I don't think anyone in the galaxy does – but it makes me feel like we're just throwing their asses into the fire." He sighed and folded his arms. "I'm just wondering if this is what it's going to take when the Reapers do come. How many will we have to sacrifice? Will we end up having to let ten thousand over in place A die so that a hundred thousand can live in place B? The ruthless calculus of war, right?"

"I don't believe in that," said Shepard firmly. "The minute we start reducing this war to maths, we become no better than the Reapers. If there was any way I could help the Batarians right now, you'd bet your ass I'd be doing it."

"I know you would," said Garrus, nodding. "I know you're trying to save everyone... I just wish I had your faith." It was then that docking procedures finished and the door slid open, revealing the tube connecting the ship to the spaceport. "I just wish there was more I could do right now. It's not right what the UNSC are doing, not when we need people like you to fight the Reapers."

"I'll be fine, Garrus," said Shepard. "Whatever happens, I know that you guys will do the right thing."

"Thanks, Shepard," said Garrus. "I'll see what I can do here. Maybe my dad can still pull some strings, though family reunions are always awkward..." He held out one of his hands, which Shepard clasped tightly. "We'll see each other again. That's a promise."

"Take care, Garrus," said Shepard, feeling her voice begin to choke. It was horrible for her to part ways with her team like this, but it had to be done. Without another word, before things got any more awkward, Garrus stepped off the ship, the airlock door sliding shut behind him. Now feeling very melancholy, Shepard stepped back onto the bridge, only to find Joker apparently in an argument over the intercom, with Vega leaning against one of the other chairs.

"No, no, we get it," said Joker. "You're lucky I'm willing to play nice here, otherwise I wouldn't even leave you the tail-lights."

"What's going on?" asked Shepard, leaning over the pilot's chair.

"Is that the Commander there with you?" a young-sounding male voice on the other end asked. "Commander Shepard, this is Captain Laskey of the UNSC Infinity. We're sitting above Palaven and hereby order you to take your ship above-atmosphere and relinquish control of your helm. By order of the Office of Naval Intelligence, you're under arrest."

"They pulled some strings with the Turian Hierarchy to be able to come in here and grab us," muttered Joker. "I'd risk running for it, if I didn't respect Anderson."

"That would be inadvisable, Lt. Moreau," replied Laskey. "We've got Technomancers on board who can track you anywhere you try to run, even with the stealth systems engaged."

"I take it that's how you were able to find me?" asked Shepard. "The Array told them where to look?"

"That's correct, Shepard," said Laskey. "One of them said that God's really got it in for you. I don't know what they were talking about, but the data they pulled sent us out here."

"Lately I feel like God, whatever it is, does have it in for me," sighed Shepard, her eyes closed.

"And everyone you know's getting caught in the crossfire," muttered Joker. "God's pretty damn vindictive like that."

"Anyway," Laskey interrupted, "we've got orders to bring you and the Normandy in, Commander. We've even been authorised to open fire on you if you don't co-operate." A world-weary sigh could be heard coming from him. "Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be. I've got nothing but respect for you, Shepard; hell, none of us want to do this, but you've got to answer for what happened in the Bahak System, Spectre rank be damned."

"It's okay, Captain Laskey," said Shepard, patiently. "I gave my word to Anderson and Hackett that I'd come quietly when the time came. I've no intention of breaking it now. You'll get no trouble from any of us."

"Glad to hear you're still the same Commander we remember," said Laskey. "Rendezvous at these co-ordinates, and prepare to be boarded." With that, he signed off.

"Well, that went well," said Joker. "Never thought I'd end up grounded again, by the UNSC again, no less."

"Maybe Anderson can pull some strings," said Vega, shrugging. "The Normandy's too good of a ship to be scrapped. Could sure use a new lick of paint, though. Maybe the Admiral can get you the ship back once it's been retrofitted."

"Maybe..." sighed Joker. Shepard knew that he was thinking about what might happen to EDI when the UNSC took the ship. Her only hope was to keep her head down, not do anything to give herself away. Minutes later, the docking clamps were released, and the ship pulled away from Cipritine, heading back towards the atmosphere of Palaven, and towards their eventual captors.

"I'd better go let Anderson know what's up," said Vega. "They'll expect us all in the cargo bay once we're on board the Infinity." Seeing the weary looks on Shepard's and Joker's faces, he added, "It can wait a few minutes, though, if ya wanna say goodbye or something. I'll see you in the cargo bay."

After Vega left, Shepard and Joker sat in silence as Joker flew towards the Infinity. As the ship's gun-like outline grew closer, his expression grew more downcast, more hopeless. Shepard, trying to look as dignified as her despairing emotions would allow her, knew how he felt; she too loved the Normandy, and it would be hard to be separated from her and everyone who served on her, everyone who fought by her side when she needed it most. That was the most painful wound of all through this whole ordeal; the feeling that she had let everyone down. After a few more minutes, the ship came to rest in the large hangar bay of the ship, and the sounds of voices and footsteps could be heard below, doubtless caused by boarding parties. Shepard wondered what was going through their minds right now. Laskey had sounded disappointed, reluctant to carry out his orders; she wondered if all of his subordinates shared that reluctance.

"Better not keep 'em waiting, Shepard," sighed Joker, his voice cracking and losing its usual light-hearted demeanour. "I'm ready to go."

"Me too," said Shepard, helping her pilot, one of her most trusted friends, to his feet.

THE END