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The Retrun Of The Old GuardPart One: Boots on the Ground
WARNING, The following contians spoliers for Mass Effect 2, read at your own risk.
Commander Alex Shepard uttered a grunt of extortion as he landed in a crouch after his small jump from the Normandy's airlock. Lifting his Vindicator rifle to bear, he scanned the strange landscape of metal and rock that lay before him only to see nothing, no enemies, no threats, just a debris-strewn rockfeild that was bathed in blood red light. It was almost a disappointment.
"Clear on my side."
"Left is clear." Reported Jacob Taylor.
"Same with the right." Growled Grunt, clearly dissatisfied at the lack of a fight.
Shepard nodded. "Right," he then put a finger to his ear, "Crash-site secure, drop in second squad."
"Roger that." Radioed Garrus, who jumped down from the airlock moments later with the reminder of the Normandy's assault team.
The scarred Truian gave Shepard a nod. "Ready to save the universe Shepard?"
Shepard almost grinned "Just another day at the office, Gar
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
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