The Mutiny (Fill) (1/4)
anonymous
August 14 2013, 23:06:05 UTC
Shepard sunk into her chair, still clad in her armour. After a moment of uncomfortableness, she took off her pistol and set it heavily on the desk, her eyes drawn to it.
She'd just finished communications with the Dalatrass, and received word that the Salarian Union was contributing it's full efforts to the war, and to the construction of the crucible. She'd just brought the galaxy one step closer to saving itself, Shepard told herself. She'd just had to make one more sacrifice.
But she couldn't help but remember that Mordin had given her the pistol she was staring at. The same one she'd used to gun him down when he'd tried to spread the cure.
With a half repressed snarl, Shepard shoved the gun out of her line of sight and got up, starting to strip out of her armour. They were underway to the next battle already, and she'd need to be at her best, not moping about necessary sacrifices. She hadn't hesitated at Torfan, or when she'd killed the Rachni Queen, or gunned down Wrex, or sacrificed Kaiden, or sent Tali to her death in the Collector base.
No, she hadn't hesitated, because all those things were necessary. The Batarians had to be sent a message then. The Collectors had to be stopped, no matter the cost to her team. And if she didn't defeat the Reapers now, then it didn't matter how well she fought, how nobly she strived, if every living being in the galaxy was dead, every culture extinguished.
It was what she'd been trained for. No matter that she hadn't had a good night's sleep in years, or that every relationship she had ended badly. Didn't matter that every shore leave she consumed ever greater amounts of narcotics and contemplated just how much damage her Cerebus rebuilt body could take before it finally stopped. Didn't matter that she'd considered what the exact qualifications of 'victory' so that she could just stop it all.
No, not the time for that. So as the Normandy travelled, she slept.
She'd just finished communications with the Dalatrass, and received word that the Salarian Union was contributing it's full efforts to the war, and to the construction of the crucible. She'd just brought the galaxy one step closer to saving itself, Shepard told herself. She'd just had to make one more sacrifice.
But she couldn't help but remember that Mordin had given her the pistol she was staring at. The same one she'd used to gun him down when he'd tried to spread the cure.
With a half repressed snarl, Shepard shoved the gun out of her line of sight and got up, starting to strip out of her armour. They were underway to the next battle already, and she'd need to be at her best, not moping about necessary sacrifices. She hadn't hesitated at Torfan, or when she'd killed the Rachni Queen, or gunned down Wrex, or sacrificed Kaiden, or sent Tali to her death in the Collector base.
No, she hadn't hesitated, because all those things were necessary. The Batarians had to be sent a message then. The Collectors had to be stopped, no matter the cost to her team. And if she didn't defeat the Reapers now, then it didn't matter how well she fought, how nobly she strived, if every living being in the galaxy was dead, every culture extinguished.
It was what she'd been trained for. No matter that she hadn't had a good night's sleep in years, or that every relationship she had ended badly. Didn't matter that every shore leave she consumed ever greater amounts of narcotics and contemplated just how much damage her Cerebus rebuilt body could take before it finally stopped. Didn't matter that she'd considered what the exact qualifications of 'victory' so that she could just stop it all.
No, not the time for that. So as the Normandy travelled, she slept.
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