Author's Note: As I must always begin, if for nothing more than my own sanity, please review. Authors take the time to write stuff, I hope you take enough time to review it after reading.


The Fall of Rannoch

A Tragedy in Rhythm


A war upon a frozen field.

A battle to death, with glory to yield.


The geth number thousands,

or so the scouts claim.

But I am upon them, and they shall be maimed.


As the torrents of blood, cascade to the ground,

our numbers falter, defenses unwound.


Death comes astriking,

by knife or by gun.

The Admirals are yelling, wishing to run.


"Cowards!", I shout, as they flee from their posts.

Rannoch will fall, this they know most.


The loyal remain, but we have not the strength.

We cannot hold our ground, we cannot hold this base.

As the first bullets strike, I pray for my race.


I wake hours later, to find a terrible sight.

Rannoch is burning, the Geth conqueoring with spite.


When the Geth rose against us,

who thought we'd loose the Veil?

But it is obvious now that we have all failed.


Following the sounds of battle, I make a plan:

I shall break through to the spaceport, where my people still stand.


From afar I see the Port,

as ships take off retreating to space.

I hope to sneak through the battle, without leaving a trace.


But plans change quickly as I hear a cry that bites to the bone.

Running to the sound, I find a child alone.


The quarian boy is shaking with fear,

I grab him up quickly, asking for the location of his kin.

He says nothing, but buries his head into my skin.


His parent's fate was obvious, but I was too busy to see.

For the corpses around us were them, and realizing this we left briskly.


Sneaking from cover to cover,

I again ask for his name.

But the child is quiet, and I cannot place blame.


Through a drainage pipe we crawl, with the sound of battle above.

Emerging into the Port, we rejoice; But the sight that greets us gives my joy a great shove.


The port still stands, a burning refuge in the storm,

but ships are not landing, they seem to have gone.

I ask a weary guard, "What has gone so wrong?"


Through a smile the quarian replies with a look far too grim:

"Geth AA too strong, the pilots won't land. We have one more ship, but she's full to the brim."


Pushing past the soldier, I search for that ship.

But an explosion nearby alludes to my fate.

"Run," someone yells, "the Geth are through the main gate!"


The child is crying as I continue my search for escape,

but my choices grow slimmer as the Geth move quickly across the charred landscape.


All hope seems lost; the ship must have left.

But as lay down my last chips, someone else makes a bid:

"Hey you, overthere! Is that a kid?"


The voice came from above, and turning my gaze, I do almost trip.

For hovering above us is the very last ship.


"Yes!" I cry, my voiced dripping with glee.

"Come down a bit, if you'd be so kind,

We don't have much time!"


But the pilot only shakes his head, as I watch his teeth grate.

"We are almost maxed out," He shouts. "Taking you on will make us overweight."


"But the kid?" I ask, and he nods his head.

And so without a second thought, I raise the kid up till my arms extend.

The pilot takes the boy, and then begins to ascend.


Turning back to battle, I see the Geth will soon reach this place.

Death is assured, as it was for 9/10ths of my race.


But it is only now, as I watch Rannoch fall,

that I noticed I still have something from the boy,

A last gift, that fills my heart with a great amount of joy.


Our son's name, it was written, on a piece of paper he left in my shirt,

Is Maen'Zorah. Where we his parents have failed, we hope you succeed.

For we have always believed the Zorahs were destined to fulfill a great deed.


A smile breaks upon my begrimed face, as I realize that I have accomplished their task.

Their son is safe, my duty is done. But a click to my left tells me I have little time left to bask.


Dropping to my knees, I close my eyes as Geth approach.

With this last bastion of resistance fallen, the machines have taken our Capital.

And with a single shot, they send my soul to a place only described in the Chapel.


Author's Note: Lastly, please review. I shall repeat that until I am without a voice to speak it. To those readers who are eagerly anticipating the next installments in my two main works, Beneath the Veil & A Creed Unhinged, let me assure you that I am working on them. It is just taking longer than I would like, and writer's bloc can manifest itself in weird ways. Like in the form of an 'epic poem'. :P