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[Irockz]

--NOTE: This fanfiction is completely friendly to your game. There's no
mention of Shepard's gender or any major decisions including

Shepard
stumbled across the war ravaged land, wielding nothing but a pistol.
Suddenly, a Marauder jumped out. This was it. The final chance at
stopping Shepard. He fired once and hit the shoulder. He fired twice and
hit the stomach. The ravaged armour was the only thing stopping the
bullets from killing. Shepard fired back with four bullets. Two through
his chest. He stumbled back. One through his shoulder, he clutched it
and continued. Another skimmed his neck, far enough in to send him
unconcious. He heard the Comander stumble past him before blacking out.

As
a large blast of energy expanded across the galaxy, it passed him and
broke the Reaper's control over him. He still, however, remained
unconcious, bleeding out. No more than a day later, a Turian and Human
paramedic arrived to his body.

"What should we do with it?" Asked the Human.

"Well,
we've met two or three banshees who regained conciousness and their
memory. We just have to wait and see if he's got control again."
responded the Turian. They pushed off rubble crushing his legs and
picked him up, carrying him to a ship and placing him in the medical
bay. Hours later, he awoke to the sight of a Turian medic.

"Welcome back, mister...?"

"Shields. Sarus Shields."