here’s to that moment when the music quieted to a shiver and shepard pulled away from earth, watching vancouver fall—not the lowest humanity would go in the coming months, but the start of a fight shepard saw through to an end, once and for all.
here’s to EDI and legion, who taught us a little something about what it means to be human. their jokes and loyalty, honor and love.
here’s to jeff ‘joker’ moreau, who saved shepard’s ass too many times to count—and stood to salute when it came down to the final play.
here’s to james vega, who showed us we can be a lot more than we seem on the outside, and to samantha traynor, who showed us how to keep our heads in a storm.
here’s to emily wong’s final update.
here’s to mordin solus, who let us know that although our past mistakes make us who we are, they’re not all we are—that we’re heroes the moment we decide it has to be us, because someone else would have gotten it wrong.
here’s to thane krios, whose final words weren’t for himself.
here’s to kasumi goto, who smiled even after a broken heart; to zaeed massani, who was just waxin’ goddamn nostalgic; to jacob taylor, a good friend when we needed one most.
here’s to jack, more than a number, more than a subject, who gave us hell with her name on it. and here’s to miranda lawson, who showed us the pain as well as the potential of being perfect.
here’s to urdnot grunt—proof that the hardest heads can protect the kindest hearts.
here’s to biotic gods because we can all be biotic gods; to asari kingpins; to dancing the night away, not caring what you look like with your arms high over your heads. here’s to the turian shuffle.
here’s to blasto, the jellyfish stings. to elcor hamlet. to this one having enough of your disingenuous assertions.
here’s to urdnot wrex, who won’t let you piss on his face and tell him it’s raining. here’s to urdnot bakara, who’ll hum her children to sleep with gilbert and sullivan, her legacy of strength and sacrifice and song.
here’s to doctor chakwas, who was always there for a drink and a chat, the kind of healing you just can’t find in a tube of medigel. here’s to samara, whose wisdom would find us peace.
here’s to hackett, out. here’s to conrad verner, shepard’s biggest fan. here’s to aria t’loak—she is omega.
here’s to javik, the last of his kind. here’s to liara, who embraced eternity with us. here’s to the history they lived and the history they loved—and the history they made.
here’s to the villains who hurt us, the villains we loved, the villains we couldn’t save.
here’s to tali’zorah vas normandy, who’s always known she will return where she began, but better somehow—changed—and able to answer the question, ‘does this unit have a soul?’
here’s to ashley williams, the strongest soldier in the alliance, the bravest person shepard’s ever known. here’s to kaidan alenko, messed up kid that he was, reminding shepard that the way a thing goes down does matter sometimes. here’s to the virmire survivor—and to the one who didn’t survive. here’s to who they were, who they are, who they will be—and who they could have been.
here’s to garrus vakarian—because without him, there’d be no shepard.
to calibrations. to renegade interrupts. to paragades and renegons. to giving them hell. to horizon. to the mass relays.
here’s to anderson, who stayed. who fathered. who smiled. who gave us the best damn seats in the house and told us we did good. we did good.
here’s to the moment when the music swelled to a burst of pride, when all fleets reported in. when shepard united the galaxy, race by race, to stand together as one against the reapers. here’s to that triumph. here’s to this epic, wonderful game.
here’s to the friends and the family we found along the way.