Shepard's New Gun
"If you kill a man with your gun, do you hold the gun responsible?"
"My gun can't decide right from wrong, you clearly do."
Though his tone remained placid, the assassin was quick to retort, "My soul does, but my body is merely flesh -flesh whose reflexes were honed to kill. Drell minds are different from humans'. We see our body as a vessel and accept that it is not always under our control."
Krios's posture and tone were detached...too detached. Her reply was heated in contrast, "So you don't assume any responsibility for the things you do?" Shepard couldn't disagree more. It wasn't that she denied the need for killing, it was that she always took responsibility for the necessity of it.
"Not every action performed by my body is the result of conscious choices. I take responsibility for those that are."
Shepard resisted the urge to refute him further, he'd obviously heard and made these arguments before. While she accepted that survival instincts and/or battle reflexes could result in killing without a conscious decision, -she'd experienced that for herself often enough- there were way too many aspects of his life's work which didn't apply as "involuntary acts.".
The question was, was this willful ignorance a defense mechanism or was he really that deluded? The newest addition to her team seemed too intelligent to buy into such a conveniently selective set of ethics. Regardless, she didn't want to ostracize the lone assassin further. Whatever the reason, his personal sense of identity seemed hinged on this belief system. And as he was graciously choosing to put himself in harm's way for her cause, she wouldn't risk offending him. Whatever his particular brand of bullshit, he was willing to "be her gun" when she needed it. That was enough for her.
Opting to change the subject, Shepard recalled the last time she'd spoken with him. Thane had explained what he called "solipsism," a characteristic shared by all members of his species; drell had eidetic memories. It was a trait she admittedly envied. She asked him about the last memory he'd lost himself in, something about sunset-colored eyes.
"Laser dot trembles on the skull. Spice on the spring wind. Sunset eyes, defiant in the scope...A bystander noticed my spotting laser and threw herself between me and the target. She couldn't see me, but she stared me down." The shadow of a smile crossed his face as he spoke.
"How intriguing. Did you take the shot?"
"Not...that day."
So the "gun"' chose not to take the shot after all? Shepard felt a little satisfaction at seeing him contradict himself, but she refrained from pointing it out. He seemed conflicted about this memory at any rate. She stood to take her leave, "I should get back to my duties."
"Shepard, I appreciate these chats we have." Thane flinched inwardly at the uncharacteristic appetence in his tone. It was his habit to keep others at a distance, and with good reason. Nonetheless, these were unique circumstances; after all, Shepard was no innocent bystander -she was nearly as deadly as himself. Nor was she a threat to him; no one was, now that his life was reaching its end.
She paused mid-stride, her small human eyes piercing his, "You've spent a lot of your life alone, Thane."
He acknowledged the truth of her words with a small, curt nod. It seemed his years of solitude had left his social graces lacking and it showed. "Work fulfilled me. Reading. I've barely spoken to anyone outside my family. It seems there will be no one to mourn me when I die. You're the only friend I've made in ten years," yet another atypically open statement escaping his lips.
He had accepted this so-called suicide mission hoping to find an honorable death, nothing more. Perhaps it was a side effect of his impending demise, or just the commander's strong, charismatic personality, but he had begun to look forward to Shepard's visits to his makeshift quarters. He admired this rare human and had not, until recently, had much call to acknowledge how lonely he truly felt before. The commander's open curiosity was strangely…gratifying. He wished to encourage more.
But Shepard only crossed her arms and cocked her hip, "Quite the paradox, Krios. You seem more like a monk than an assassin. Y'know, this crew is pretty diverse, it couldn't hurt to get out of this room and talk to them."
He turned back to face the view of the drive core, his voice carefully even, "I shall...consider it."
With softening features, she dropped her hands. "I enjoy our chats too, Thane. I consider you a friend."
"I won't keep you." He felt a twinge of guilt for dismissing her so briskly, but he did not turn to watch her leave. Thane was rattled by her response. But why? She had, after all, responded favorably in the end. What exactly was he hoping to make of their tenuous friendship?
He felt the rumbling of disquiet in his chest. He was no longer still. He would meditate on this.
As the doors to Life Support hissed shut behind her, Shepard sighed discreetly. She generally took pride in seeing to her crew, but Thane Krios was...difficult.
She had worked hard to show her team that she valued them all as individuals. It was the single most enjoyable aspect of her command and she was more or less famous for her "collection of aliens" back on her first Alliance command. This time around, her crew was even more diverse. Some jokingly called her ability to unite unexpected allies "Shep's superpower." The way the commander saw it, the only superpower she really possessed, was instilling trust in people. She made a point of reaching out to each being individually and really listening to their stories, even if it was only ever told between the lines. They'd put themselves in harm's way for her, she wouldn't fail them. And despite the intense demands of life aboard the Normandy, her hand-picked motley crew rarely failed her either.
Instinct and experience had taught her how to maintain a certain professional distance for her command to be effective. It was a tricky equilibrium, but she'd gotten pretty good at it, for the most part. Except her attempt to balance distance and personal attention with Thane wasn't sitting well. She couldn't pinpoint the reason, but the more time she spent with him, the more urgently she wanted to cut through his...isolation.
I'm dying.
He'd told her matter-of-factly that he was terminally ill when she first recruited him. The amber twilight filtering through the blinds had framed his silhouette in a fitting omen for such an announcement. Once aboard the Normandy, he had assured her that he was strong enough to fight for the next eight to twelve months, and that he "wouldn't be a burden." After a medical exam in the med bay, Chakwas had confirmed it: Kepral's Syndrome, a gradual but terminal lung disease only afflicting drell.
Death and the commander were intimate bedfellows, but it was still altogether different to face an unknown, -albeit likely- possibility of death as opposed to the certainty that Krios was confronted with. A certainty that haunted her dreams, or what blessedly little she remembered of them. Even so, some nagging instinct warned her that his condition wasn't the cause of his reclusion.
Nor was it his line of work. As covert as his profession was, it hadn't cast that desolate shade over his otherwise detached demeanor. The quiet, calm explanations he provided as justification for killing assured her of that.
The fact was, the man reeked of regret, and yet he claimed he felt no guilt.
Shepard shook her head minutely, she could only really pin down what was not the cause. She wasn't getting the whole picture and it was an irritating source of unease.
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, so if you write a review, please be gentle with me. That said, I do appreciate it if readers have the time/inclination to point out grammaticl mistakes, and formatting errors. The first section of this is unbeta-ed afterall. ^^ Also, fair warning, I'm constantly going back and editing/changing/improving old chapters (sometimes drastically) as the story matures.
Thanks to Claudia (Zellbunnii) of deviantart for giving me permission to use her artwork.
Obviously, I've gotta give a nod to the people at Bioware who created the Mass Effect universe. I'd also like to acknowledge Ezri Krios's fic, Resolution, as well as Lindira's Slipping for inspiring me to give it a go here.