49 The End of the Reapers

--> The fleets are amassed, all forces assembled; the assault to reclaim Earth is about to begin. The entrenched Reapers await, an impenetrable hedge of diverse abominations over-arched by an impassable blockade of Reaper destroyers and dreadnoughts. Were this the sum of matters, the prospect would be more than grim. But we have friends on the ground. The resistance, led by Admiral Anderson, gives us some hope of success.

We need to open the arms of the Citadel and move the Crucible in range to dock with it. The obstacles are tremendous. The fortified station is sealed and surrounded by the entire Reaper fleet, rendering any direct boarding attempt a useless gesture; even the Normandy can’t get us past that dense blockade. The only means of entry is through a trans-orbit beam from the Citadel to Earth. The Reapers are using it to transport Human prisoners, living and dead, from London to the Citadel for processing. Landing anywhere near the beam is impossible: the airspace for miles is covered by HADES defence cannons. Our only means of accessing the Beam will be with a ground assault, landing the troops beyond effective range of the densest concentration of AA guns. The danger zone for landing ships is too broad to avoid completely; our soldiers would be wading through the English channel to reach London, and we’d still have taken fire while landing. None of the options are good. Our only hope is a compromise of danger.

While the primary fleet, designated Sword, engages the Reapers, a small flight of shuttles will attempt to land on the outskirts of London. Our vanguard force will make a combined strike in unison with Anderson's resistance forces, and eliminate local AA guns in the vicinity. Once the airspace there is clear, the full extent of our combined ground forces, designated Hammer, will land, link up with the resistance, and push for the Beam. It will be a race against time, carving our way through the entrenched enemy positions to get to the Beam and board the Citadel before our fleets are destroyed. Once we’re aboard, we’ll not only have to find the arm controls and open the station, we’ll also have to neutralize whatever block it was that the Council put in place to separate the Citadel from control of the Relay Network. Once the Citadel is online, Shield fleet will escort the Crucible into range. We connect the two, and fire it up.

It’s a long shot. The Crucible will be the Reapers’ primary target, suffering heavy attack the moment it shows its nose. Numerous though our fleets are, we cannot guarantee the Crucible’s safety in direct contest with the Reapers. Beyond weakening the Reapers as much as possible and drawing their fire to the immediate threat of our attacking ships, our best hope for protecting the Crucible will be achieving enough success in the ground assault to draw their ships away from the battle in space. We’ll be fighting at a disadvantage in London with minimal air support at best, and we can guarantee the Reapers hitting hard once we get close to the beam.

And so it comes down to this. Our only hope for defeating the Reapers lies in one final, desperate battle. So be it. No more halfway measures, no more running. The game has changed. We take the fight to the Reapers with everything we have. And so the stag turns at bay and rends the wolves. Let them feel our wrath.

--> We’re ground-side. Hammer has landed, but despite the hole we opened in the aerial defences, our landing craft took heavy casualties: only fifty percent of infantry forces are accounted for. The fleets are engaging, the infantry forming up. Anderson is mustering the officers and making final preparations for the assault. We have a few minutes before we start our push for the Beam.

It is midnight here in London. Black clouds roil above, reflecting the discharge of artillery; the wrecked and shattered buildings are shaken by the rumble of explosions; and all is overcast by the pale and baleful light of the distant Beam. “A land of deepest night, of utter darkness and disorder, where even the light is like darkness.”

The team might be forgiven some trepidation at the prospect of the battle before us, but I see no fear in their eyes. Instead, every face is lit with resolve, even grim satisfaction. Despite the danger and chaos, there is peace in our ranks. This is what we've planned for, trained for, fought for, and in some cases, died for.

This is it. After all of the fighting, all of the dying, hardship, and sacrifice to oppose the Reapers, in this cycle and the countless that came before, it all comes down to this. This is the culmination of everything we’ve done, everything we’ve fought for. Our own efforts would have been for nought without the Protheans before us. They laid the groundwork for the advantages we hold. They gave us the means to defeat Sovereign, and the weapons we made from his corpse. They were the last in a long tale of defiant who tried and failed to finish the Crucible, each passing on, hidden in some discreet corner, this ultimate hope for a final end to the Cycle.

Everything we’ve accomplished, every battle we’ve fought, every sacrifice that’s ever been made in the struggle against the Reapers is consummated in this moment. Despite the long odds, we have a chance. We’ve come closer than any civilization before us to defeating the Reapers. None after us will have another chance such as this: failure is not an option. We stop the Reapers, here, today, not merely for the sake of the living or the lives of the lost, but for the sake of every sentient being born in the future. We will save the living; we will exact vengeance on behalf of those who fell before us, and we will grant future civilizations freedom from the fate of the past. Though it cost all our lives, we will prevail. One way or another, the Cycle ends today. We come to destroy the Reapers, at any cost: no halfways, no excuses. Every man and woman in this battle knows the score, and have come to battle knowing most of them will never return. They’ve already made their sacrifice, and face the Reapers with the fearlessness of those with nothing to lose. We face the Reapers today with a force such as they’ve never seen before: Human, Turian, Krogan, Asari, Salarian, Quarian, even Rachni and Geth, an entire galaxy mobilized and united against them in one massive force of retribution, a long overdue host of vengeance for the countless innocents slain across an unnumbered series of bloody harvests.

And should the ultimate price be paid, should all our lives be spent in the destruction of the Reapers, it will not have been in vain. Though it cost every drop of mortal blood that flows through the veins of the defiant, the Reapers’ end has come. It is long overdue.

Should this be my last entry, let the record show the highest commendation for my crew. Many credit me with this chance, but I could never have done it without the brave men and women who have helped me through the rough path we tread. Nihlus, whose initiative gave me the authority to track down Saren. Tali, who provided the information to prove his guilt. Liara, without whom the warning of the Beacons would have been useless. Kaidan, who laid down his life for the rest of us. Miranda, who brought me back from the dead. Mordin, whose sacrifice gave us the alliance with the Krogan. Legion, without whom the Geth would have been lost. Garrus, whose calibrations preserved the Normandy on countless occasions. Ashley, who with James saved the Crucible plans from Cerberus. There's not a one of us that hasn't owed our life at least once to Dr. Chakawas. And Anderson, our captain who first sent us to destroy Sovereign, and has now given us this foothold on Earth, our last grip on the cliff of doom. All of them have saved my life on countless occasions, and ensured the success of missions critical to where we now stand. It has been my privilege and honour to have served with these friends, the dearest and truest that any soldier ever had.

With so many vital threads woven together, the loss of any one of which would have meant ruin for all, I cannot believe that our success is a product of mere chance. Having been preserved on so many occasions when chance would have dictated failure, we stand where no other race in history has stood: against all odds, we have been granted this one chance to destroy the Reapers. We must not, we will not, fail. May He that guides us still watch over us all.

Perhaps it may be, against all odds, that I survive this last and greatest trial. If so, I may live a life of one with my beloved Ash. But if only she survives, the new life born of her will live safe and free.

Whatever happens, this vow I make: the Sun will rise over the ashes of dead Reapers.

But our time is up, the moment of reckoning is at hand. Every gun is loaded, every heart steeled, every mind focused. The time has come. Death to the Reapers. Life, hope, and peace to those who survive. They will see a future free from fear.

So fill to us the parting glass, and drink a health whatever befalls.

And though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for You are with me.

This is Commander Shepard signing off.

---

TRANSMISSION FROM COMMANDER SHEPARD:

"ADMIRAL, I'VE GOT IT. ….ONE MORE MIRACLE. GET THE FLEET OUT OF HERE.

 

VICTORY IN THREE, TWO, ONE, DESTRUC…"

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