by Joan Jett
I sat in the front row with other members of the Normandy crew, dressed in an expensive new white gown, set off with a sapphire necklace. Shepard had wanted me on the stage with him, but I had declined. Not many people knew yet just how close our relationship had become, and with so many of the Alliance “brass” present I did not think it wise to rouse suspicions. For me, it sufficed that he knew I was there.
The Councilors stepped forward to take center stage. They had no podium, no microphone. Hidden sensors caught the words of anyone who spoke and broadcast them so all could hear.
Once the audience had grown silent, Councilor Tevos began, graceful and elegant as always. “We have gathered here today to recognize the enormous contribution of Alliance forces in the war against Saren and the geth.”
Councilor Valern bowed his head within his deep hood. “Many humans lost their lives in this war, especially in the battle to save the Citadel. They were brave and courageous soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice so that the Council might live, so that galactic civilization might endure.”
Councilor Sparatus stood tall and proud, a soldier to the core. “No sentient being can make any greater sacrifice for the community. We share the Alliance’s grief over the tragic loss of so many noble men and women.”
Councilor Tevos paused, taking a sheet of parchment from an aide. “Humanity is new to the galactic community. Despite inevitable disagreements, some of them quite harsh, humanity’s relations with the rest of the galaxy have in general been friendly and productive. Those of us who have long upheld and defended this community have watched our new friends closely, seeking to determine what role humanity is fated to play on the galaxy’s stage. Today I am pleased to announce that we have reached a conclusion.”
A mutter of surprise and speculation ran through the audience.
Tevos held up the parchment and began to read.
“Whereas the human species as represented by its framework of interstellar governance, the Systems Alliance, has proven to be a stable and effective participant in the galactic community;
“Whereas humans admitted to the Citadel’s Special Tactics and Reconnaissance arm have acted with extraordinary selflessness and courage to defend the galactic community;
“Whereas the Systems Alliance as a whole has demonstrated beyond any possible doubt its willingness and ability to defend the galactic community against its foes; and
“Whereas the Systems Alliance has made a solemn commitment to uphold the purposes and principles of the Citadel Conventions, and to fulfill all of the obligations contained therein;
“Therefore be it resolved that the Citadel Council admits the Systems Alliance as a full member, with all the rights and privileges attendant upon that position.”
Humanity had a seat on the Council, the first race to earn such an honor in centuries. Among the audience, the mutter became a full-fledged roar. As I glanced around, I could see most of the audience seemed surprised but pleased by the Council’s decision. Certainly the humans celebrated . . . but the other races seemed at least willing to accept what had happened.
* * *
28 May 2183, ASV Destiny Ascension, Widow System Space
The Council had not made its decision easily. I witnessed the occasion when humanity’s leaders met with them aboard the Destiny Ascension, in the hours just after the end of the battle.
“Face it, Councilors,” Udina said forcefully. “Despite the risks Shepard faced for you, despite what he told you, despite all the evidence that he and other Alliance personnel provided, you misread the situation disastrously. If Shepard had not violated Citadel law and your direct orders . . .”
“And yours, Ambassador,” interjected Sparatus.
“. . . and mine, be it admitted, Councilor, then every one of us here would be dead right now. Only the first of many billions, if Shepard’s assessment of the Reapers is correct.”
“I’m still not convinced about this Reaper hypothesis,” said Valern.
“You don’t have to believe it,” said Captain Anderson, “but given the evidence our Red Team has uncovered, you’d be fools not to start making contingency plans.”
“That’s beside the immediate point, Anderson.” Udina rapped on Matriarch Lidanya’s briefing-room table in irritation. “Councilors. You need humanity. We’ve proven our value to galactic commerce and technological research. We’ve proven our value in the Spectres. We’ve proven our value on the field of battle. Whether these Reapers are a reality or not, it’s clear there are dangers and threats out there that you need help to face. Humanity stands ready to provide that help . . . but we won’t do it, we can’t do it, as mere clients of the Council.”
“No!” growled Sparatus. “After only twenty-six years? Some races have been waiting centuries for a seat on the Council.”
“Maybe some of them are ready too,” said Shepard quietly. “Maybe they’ve been ready for a long time.”
Silence fell around the Matriarch’s table.
“Councilors, let’s not keep dancing around the real issue,” Shepard continued. “This isn’t really about humanity at all. It’s about you.”
Sparatus scoffed. Valern shook his head within his hood.
Tevos simply watched Shepard.
“Let’s look at the history. The asari found the Citadel first, and then the salarians came. Asari and salarians have always gotten along well. Asari appreciate salarian intelligence, the salarian talent for science and technology. But there’s more to it than that. For the first time, asari discovered that they could mate with non-asari. Meanwhile all those male salarians who would never have had a chance to reproduce within their own species discovered an alternative. Councilor, at this point how much of the asari species has at least some salarian ancestry?”
“Roughly ninety percent,” said Tevos quietly.
“Well, there you are. The asari and salarian civilizations depend on each other now. The original Council was really a family arrangement. I suspect the asari planned to keep expanding the Council as new species came into contact . . . but the next few to come along were too different, not quite what you were looking for. Councilor, the volus have been part of the galactic community almost as long as the salarians. Today, how much of the asari species has some volus ancestry?”
Tevos nodded reluctantly, conceding the point. “Less than ten percent.”
“As we humans would say, they’re just not your type. Besides, they’re not good soldiers. They can’t stand on the front lines and defend asari worlds when a threat emerges. Even so, Councilor, they’ve made an enormous contribution to galactic civilization. They’ve been the backbone of the galactic economy for over two thousand years. So why does Ambassador Korlack still have to sit at the children’s table?”
Shepard was speaking only to Tevos now, while Valern and Sparatus listened without objection. I suddenly suspected that he raised issues they had already considered, in the privacy of their own minds.
“Then, of course, everything went wrong. The rachni appeared, and not only were they repulsive to asari, they proved to be very powerful and implacably hostile. You had to uplift the krogan to beat them. And once the rachni were gone, you still had the krogan to deal with. Aggressive, warlike . . . and of course, asari generally find krogan personally repulsive. Councilor, how much of the asari species has some krogan ancestry?”
“Less than ten percent,” said Tevos once again.
I flushed and lowered my eyes. I knew where Shepard had gotten his insight into how asari viewed the krogan. Thinking of Wrex, I felt shame.
“To beat the rachni, you uplifted the krogan. To beat the krogan, you reached out to the turians. That was a good move. The turians are tough, steadfast, loyal, the best soldiers in the galaxy. What’s really more important, asari get along with them just fine. Councilor, I won’t ask how many asari have some turian ancestry. I think we both know the answer, and it’s a lot higher than ten percent.
“But by then the damage had been
done. I imagine a lot of asari thanked the Goddess that the ones who beat the krogan turned out to be so congenial. They might not have been. I imagine that frightened a lot of asari. I suspect the asari have become a lot more hesitant to welcome newcomers onto the galactic stage. Any newcomers.
“Sure, the salarians have doubts as to whether we humans are stable or intelligent enough to hold a Council seat. The turians respect us a little, but they’re jealous of the fact that they had to fight hard for decades to earn their seat. I can understand all that, even agree with it. But I think we’ve just discovered that the galaxy is a much more dangerous place than any of us realized. We need to stand together, and I think we all know that the final decision on that rests with the asari.
“Councilor, I can attest that we humans get along very well with asari. We are compatible. But even if that were not the case, I think the asari need to stop assessing other species on the basis of whether they seem attractive or not. You’re famous for taking the long view of things. Take the long view on this. The galaxy is stronger for its diversity. We all become stronger the more we exercise compassion for the Other. Even when the Other is strange and a little frightening to us.”
Silence fell once more as he finished. Anderson and Udina shared a glance, Anderson wearing a very small smile.
“You sound like Benezia, before she . . . left us,” said Tevos at last.
Shepard glanced over at me. “I’ve had a good teacher.”
She followed his gaze. “Indeed. Ambassador Udina, do you agree with the Commander’s assessment?”
Udina looked as if he had eaten something sour. “I might not have expressed it quite that way, but the Commander shows a surprising degree of insight.”
Tevos and Valern silently looked across the table at Sparatus. After a moment, reluctantly, the turian nodded.
* * *
1 June 2183, Presidium Ring/Citadel
Admiral Hackett and Shepard stepped forward on the stage.
“Attention to orders,” intoned Hackett. “The Prime Minister of the Systems Alliance, acting upon the recommendation of the Minister of Defense and the Admiralty Board, has placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, integrity, and abilities of Lieutenant Commander William Shepard. In view of these special qualities, and his demonstrated potential to serve in the higher grade, Lieutenant Commander Shepard is promoted to the grade of Staff Commander, Systems Alliance Navy, effective the first day of June, 2183, by order of the Minister of Defense.”
Hackett took the rank tabs from an assistant and formally pinned them on Shepard’s uniform. The audience broke out into enthusiastic applause.
“I will now re-administer the Oath of Office,” said Hackett. He faced Shepard, who raised his right hand, his face full of fierce pride.
“I, William Allen Shepard, having been appointed a Staff Commander in the Systems Alliance Navy, do solemnly swear: that I will support and defend the Charter of the Systems Alliance against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any equivocation, mental reservation, or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office which I am about to enter. So help me God.”
Hackett shook Shepard’s hand and smiled. I felt a small shock. I hadn’t expected his face to be capable of such an expression.
“Ladies and gentlemen, assembled guests, I present to you Staff Commander William Shepard.”
The applause rose higher, filling the air with celebration.
Shepard looked around at all of us. The light gleamed on the bright accents of his uniform, his new rank tabs, his many service ribbons and decorations, the Star of Terra shining proudly in the highest row.
* * *
30 May 2183, SSV Normandy, Citadel Docks
The Alliance proved very generous to its men and women aboard Normandy. Everyone aboard shared in a unit citation for meritorious service. Ashley and Shepard each received the Navy Cross for “extraordinary heroism in combat.” Joker had to endure receiving a Silver Star, though he only agreed to a public ceremony after being assured that he would not have to shave off his beard for the occasion.
For his actions and sacrifice on Virmire, Kaidan Alenko was posthumously awarded the Star of Terra. He also received the Nova Cluster from the Turian Hierarchy, and the Silver Dagger from the Salarian Union. In the end, he went down in history as the most decorated Alliance soldier of the Eden Prime War.
Yet perhaps the most valued reward for any of Normandy’s human crew wasn’t a medal, or a citation, or a public ceremony. It came quietly, in Shepard’s office, with no one present but the three of us who had finally defeated Sovereign in our battle with the Saren-thing.
Ashley stood at attention before Shepard’s desk, not looking at either of us. I sat in the shadows, not quite sure why I had been invited, except that I was their friend.
Shepard said, “Ash, several weeks ago I wrote a rather strongly worded memo to Admiral Hackett, and by extension the Admiralty Board as a whole.”
Ashley stood mute.
“I described the findings of my research into your service record. I also referred to the records of your father, your two uncles, and your five cousins who have all entered into Alliance service. I pointed out that since your grandfather’s time not one of your family has had anything less than an untarnished record of exemplary service to the Alliance. Not one of you has ever dishonored your oath to the slightest degree.”
“Sir, you shouldn’t have done that,” said Ash quietly.
Shepard’s voice was sharp. “It is my job to see that my subordinates are recognized and rewarded according to their merits, Gunnery Chief.”
“Yes, sir.”
“In my memo I concluded that the Alliance has treated your family unjustly and with grave dishonor, and I demanded that swift and effective action be taken to amend the situation. Do you know what response I got?”
Ashley’s lips tightened. “I can guess, sir.”
“That’s right. I got a mildly sympathetic but otherwise ineffective response from Admiral Hackett, and stony silence from the rest of the Admiralty.”
“Not surprised, sir.” Ash relaxed from her attention-stance, just a little. “Permission to speak freely?”
“Denied.”
She stiffened back up again.
Shepard watched her closely for over half a minute, and then went on in a softer voice. “That was then. This is now. After the battle I contacted Admiral Hackett again. I pointed out that my reasoning in the earlier memo is still sound. I also pointed out that while you have been under my command, you have consistently behaved with thorough competence and the utmost gallantry. I also pointed out that your assistance has been indispensable in the small matter of saving the entire fucking galaxy from the Reapers.
“Admiral Hackett agreed with me. And since his stock – and mine – are very high with the Admiralty right now, he managed to get them to move. Finally.”
Shepard reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a small presentation case, setting it on the desk just inside Ashley’s reach.
Ash looked at it as if it was a coiled serpent.
“Open it,” he commanded.
Slowly, she reached down and opened the case. Inside, gold resting on blue velvet, was a pair of rank tabs. Second Lieutenant’s tabs.
“A commission?” she asked, her voice almost breaking.
“That’s right.” Shepard sighed. “Ash, I think we both know that the brass will be watching your entire career, just waiting for you to slip up. Accepting a commission won’t make that go away, but you’ve earned this. You’re too good a soldier not to take on an officer’s rank, and all the responsibility that goes with it. I hope you’ll accept.”
“Skipper . . . I need some time to think about it.”
He smiled. “You can have a few hours. I’ll need your answer by 1800 today.”
At the ceremony, Ash
sat in the front row in her own dress blues, quietly wearing her new tabs.
* * *
1 June 2183, Presidium Ring/Citadel
Afterward, the dignitaries and guests mingled freely. I made my way to Shepard’s side and the two of us stood in the middle of a crowd of well-wishers. The rest of Normandy’s crew received similar adulation. Garrus mixed with some of his former colleagues from C-Sec. Tali and her friends from the Migrant Fleet mingled freely, enjoying a moment of easy acceptance. Even Wrex found himself surrounded by a respectfully curious group of onlookers, who plied him with questions about his part in our long quest.
Something caught my eye, some distance away in the shadow of the trees: a familiar figure. A female human wearing a white bodysuit, with a pale complexion, ice-blue eyes, and a fall of long black hair. She must have watched the proceedings from a distance, especially Shepard’s promotion and his address to the assembled dignitaries.
When I looked again, she had vanished.
Chapter 49 : The Last Supper
3 June 2183, Serrice/Thessia
Normandy departed the Citadel five days after the great battle.
Shepard remained in command, of course. His staff roster changed very little, although Lieutenant Ashley Williams now led the Marine detachment in Kaidan’s place. Garrus, Tali, Wrex, and I all stayed aboard for the time being.
As far as the public knew, the Council had sent us to seek out and deal with isolated pockets of geth. After the destruction of Sovereign, the surviving synthetics went into widespread retreat, but no one could communicate with them to arrange a truce. Any geth still in a position to attack Citadel space could still pose a threat.