Several years ago I crawled in bed, unable sleep in a similar fashion. My wife, then girlfriend, didn’t understand why I was so worried, but she knew something was wrong. I told her the hard truth, the truth no one
wanted to hear but that everyone had to hear. Yes I had just saved the galaxy from Sovereign and the Geth, but he was just the vanguard of an ancient race called the Reapers. I know one thing, they’ll be back and we won’t
know what’s going to happen for several years… at least until the sequel is finished or some massive spoilers appear on the internet.
Eventually we found out what happened, and my real girlfriend was devastated. I died hunting Geth… it was such a waste, and everyone know this. But Cerberus brought me back. This was good, yet my consternation once again was laid bare before the woman I cared most for, my space girlfriend. It was on some backwater planet where fate brought us back together. My real girlfriend understood, and helped me through it all.
“She’s just upset that you’re suddenly alive out of the blue, and now she has to relieve your death all over while dealing with all these recent deaths. She’s upset that she wasn’t there for you, that she can’t be there for you know. She’s upset that she failed, and that she would have been with the colonists had you not shown up. I promise you one thing. She still loves you.”
As it turns out, my real girlfriend knew exactly what my space girlfriend was going through, so it was no surprise when the later managed to deliver a letter to my yeoman whose contents contained the thoughts of the former
given to me days before as we left for dinner at a friend’s house. It suddenly became apparent; my mission was
the total destruction of the collector’s at any cost. Yes I loved my space girlfriend, and all my crew, but our job was to save the galaxy dammit. And boy did we. Just like a 200-year old Asari shaking her ass in a night club, we danced our way through the galaxy and through the Collectors without losing a single soul to that so called “suicide mission.”
Yet my mission was unfinished, and another two years went by as the Alliance brass kept me under house arrest. For two years my crew and comrades had time to prepare on their own, while the rest of the galaxy buried there collective heads in the sand like a threshermaul looking to take a good nap. But the inevitable happened, the reapers returned. My wife was just as devastated with the news along with the rest of humanity. Her beloved Earth was completely occupied in the matter of hours. Sure, she was safe at home, but what about all our family and friends? And what about her… the space girlfriend! What kind of care could the citadel give her? How could I care about Earth and the reapers when Ashley was lying on a bed unconscious and in a bad situation?
Well, the real girlfriend, now wife, was there for the Commander yet again. She was there for the greater good, to save the galaxy in her own way. Sure, her rudimentary talents as a 21st century engineer with nothing more than a couple years of calculus and differential equations would be no help with the eezo burning Crucible. Sure she couldn’t shoot a gun like a N7, or pilot a ship like a cripple drooling over a curvaceous chrome sportster, but she had feelings too ya’ know. So she was there by my side the whole time. There to help me guide EDI through her crazy robotic puberty. There to help me help the last member of an ancient race understand his place in this cycle. And she was there, to help me rekindle that special relationship with the space girlfriend as she recovered from trauma both physical and mental.
So it should be no surprise as I crawled into bed near dawn, that she was awake and waiting. She could feel my heartache before I said a word. She knew my frustration better than any prothean-on-human molestation ever
could. It should be no surprise what her reaction was when I told her how the galaxy ended; how the suddenly apparent god-child of the citadel nonsensensicly wanted to kill organic life to save it from the inevitable synthetic overthrow, despite all evidence to the contrary in the form of the Geth and Quarians blowing up around him while working together save the Earth after being reunited on their symbiotic home world.
How every choice involved my beloved crew drawing a yellow-streak of courage out of the battle as soon as things went fubar, forcing them to crash land on a mysterious island planet many light years away, Gilligan style, after abandoning the fleet back in Earth. How at least two of my crew from the ground were able to magically teleport back onto the ship before they went coward and crash with them, despite the huge Reaper forces pounding everything in sight, and the big red gun that surely killed one of them who never quite made it into the citadel transport beam.
Yes, I’m sure we can all understand how it is that my wife was able to cry with me, to morn with me, to comfort me, and then to laugh at me…for hours. To continue laughing through breakfast the next day, and how she managed to point out my space girlfriend in the checkout line as we went to pick up a new ultra safe and ridiculously expensive cradle at the furniture store. In truth, I’m not sure the cradle
is worth the expense. The genophage is cured, and yes this may be our first… but Shepard knows how Krogran can really pop them out.
P.S
Seriously, the endings were lame. My space girlfriend would think so, and so does my wife. Thanks for giving her fodder to tease me for the next 2 years until I can find another blockbuster to play.
P.P.S
I wrote this after laughing about the whole thing with my wife for a good long while, and left it for her in the newly assembled crandle with the world "Normandy" poorly written on side in whiteout. I’m sure we’ll still be laughing
about it for years. Maybe it will be another glimpse of my space girlfriend in the checkout, or as we overhear a
conversation that reminds us of this lame ass ending. But in the end, “thanks.” It was god fun, money well spent, and thoroughly humiliating at times. And next time, maybe give me little bet less of a reality wakeup and a little bit more of the dream. k thx by.
Modifié par Andwing, 11 mars 2012 - 01:57 .
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