Tweet of the Day: Why Can’t Comedy Games be Funny to Play?
Azure, Nos Astra, Illium, A few days after the destruction of the Alpha Relay….
Shepard stared at the sunset. She marveled at how the sunlight flickered as long lines of air cars zoomed past. A multitude of workers, friends, family, people going about their business, some going home, others to a club, maybe even on their way to some far away destination across the galaxy. By now news of the destruction of the Bahak system spread through out the galaxy. The batarians were already blaming the Alliance, the Alliance was calling her back home and all the while the Reapers were closing in to exterminate all sentient life.
Three-hundred thousand lives lost, no, sacrificed, by her hand, to buy the galaxy a few more months.
Three-hundred thousand yesterday to save a trillion tomorrow from a fate worse than death.
Is submission not preferable to extinction?
We get our hands dirty so the Council doesn’t have to!
Don’t turn your back on me, Shepard! I made you, I brought you back from the dead!
Specters bear a great burden. They are protectors of galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold.
You fight against inevitability, dust struggling against cosmic winds. This seems a victory to you, a star system sacrificed. But even now, your greatest civilizations are doomed to fall. Your leaders will beg to serve us.
“There you are,” said Garrus. He leaned against the balcony railing. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine Garrus, just thinking,” said Shepard.
He combed a long finger through her red hair, putting a few wayward strands back into place, “Just thinking?”
“This and that,” she said. Her stomach churned with emotions from her love of her favorite turian standing beside her to fear of the future. Above all else she feared that everything she ever did would be in vain. Failure hunted her every waking moment.
“I see, well I guess this is the perfect place for it. Gotta hand it to Liara, she picked the best hotel in Illium.”
“Yes she did,” Shepard faced Garrus, “Anything on your mind?”
“Well, most of the crew already left except for the engineers, Chakwas and Joker. I guess they want to face the music with you. I just wish I could go with you.”
“So would I, but I don’t think the Alliance would let us share a cell.
“I suppose not, although if Alliance incarceration protocols allow for conjugal visits, I might just see if they take turians as citizens.”
Shepard laughed, “So what are your plans Garrus?”
“I’m going back to Palaven. My mother…she is sick and…well…lets just say I’ll like to be with her. Then there is some other family business I have to take care of, some long overdue conversations. Oh and I’m going to try and see if I can warn them about the Reapers, again. I doubt it would work this time but who knows, maybe the twentieth time is the charm?”
Shepard took his hand. It was another reminder that they were different, different species, different backgrounds and different worlds. Yet they had gone though so much together, shared so much, lost so much. No one else understood her like he did. No one knew her like he did. No one trusted her like he did. And she knew, no one loved her like he did. She looked up into his eyes and noticed he didn’t have his visor on. Garrus never went anywhere without it.
“Where is your visor?” she asked.
“Oh, that one, well it’s taken a beating, so I decided to get a new one. Better specs, upgraded tracking software, you know,” he said.
“Can’t wait to see it.”
“I’ll wear it before you leave.”
“Talking of which, when do you leave?”
“My shuttle doesn’t leave until the day after tomorrow. I wasn’t about to leave without,” he glanced at the balcony’s glass door, ” saying a proper goodbye. You know, for old times sake.”
Shepard pulled him into the bedroom, “Now that sounds like a plan.”