Valyria stood immobile before the tall, stoic turian, unsure what to say or do. Her mind raced as she tried to come to grips with the sheer odds of his presence. Of all the ships in all the Alliance fleets, how is it possible that I find myself here, facing the son of one of mother's dearest friends?
"I see you recognize the name," his mandibles twitched as he moved past her, blue eyes drifting over the hull of the Farseer. "It has been…difficult, living with the burden of his legacy," he admitted, before turning to speak to her over his shoulder. "I am sure you can relate."
When she failed to respond, he turned back to the ship, clasping his talons behind his back with a sigh.
"When I was a child, my father refused to speak of the War – despite the attention he received wherever he went. Naturally, I was curious, and sought out the answers as I grew older," his voice grew quiet as he continued. "I wanted to understand. To honor him, as countless strangers did. Little did I know the pain it would cause."
He squared his shoulders again as Valyria stepped alongside.
"He sat me down, the night before I shipped out to boot," he nodded, "told me everything."
She watched as he lowered his head and his eye plates fell. If turians could scowl, she imagined he was attempting to do so.
"I'll never forget that night," he whispered.
He took a deep breath, lifting his face to gaze at her once more. "I understand your position, your loss – and I will do anything I can to ensure your mother is taken care of," he gestured to her with an open talon. "you are her daughter. I wont claim to understand your reasons for wanting to conceal that – but I can respect it."
Valyria bit her bottom lip as her eyes fell to the deck, away from the intensity of his gaze. She wanted to trust him, to tell him that she understood his burdens all too well – that life as a T'Soni had been lonely and confusing – that she barely understood why.
Why didn't you tell me Mother, she thought again.
"Hmm," he took a breath before he continued, activating his omni. "I've approved your release, along with the krogan," he began – resuming the mantle of command, "and transferred the standard bounty vouchers to your IDent." He flicked a talon to her over his interface, prompting hers to light up.
"You can cash them in with the bounty office at C-Sec on the Citadel."
"The Citadel," Valyria shook her head. "I have to go to Thessia. My moth –" she stopped, catching his knowing look. "Liara needs to go home," she corrected.
His mandibles quivered in annoyance, but he held his stoic composure. "I advise you to reconsider. There is someone on the Citadel you should meet – he might have more insight about that," his voice grew deep as his harmonics shifted in sympathy. "He will meet you at the Memorial, on the presidium."
He startled her by placing a gloved talon on her shoulder as he turned to leave. "Spirits be with you, Asteria," he offered, inclining his head in a curt nod.
"Valyria," she corrected with a shy smile, "my name is Valyria."
Something flashed in his eyes then – a recognition or revelation – but then vanished in a blink.
"Honored to meet you, Valyria," he spoke quietly. "Be careful out there."
She watched the son of Garrus Vakarian march off without a backward glance, wondering if she had just met a friend or not. Once he entered the lift, he turned to face her again – blue eyes locked with hers – and gave her an encouraging nod.
Valyria smiled as she returned the gesture.
Arjax paced the cramped corridor leading from the Farseer's cockpit to common area as he fought to keep his fury in check. Three hours of standing around after the Omaha docked at Victus, three hours of waiting while the asari dragged her feet. Three hours of useless blabbering to whiney humans and that pyjack turian, for what?
Now she wants to make a stop at the Citadel, he fumed. Unbelievable.
"You are distracting me," the girl said to him, over her shoulder in the pilots seat.
"Hnn," he growled as he continued his stomping. "Tough shit. Fly the damned ship," he dismissed her whining with a gesture.
They had made relay transition an hour ago – bound for the Widow Nebula. Arjax shook his head, aggravated beyond words. They were going in the wrong direction, and he was being dragged along because the stupid girl didn't know or care what she did!
He wasn't supposed to leave that pit. He didn't deserve to live, after such a shameful defeat. He was supposed to break free – and rip those animals to shreds – or die trying. But then she came along, and stole his last chance at an honorable death!
She didn't even care. She thought she had done him some great service – her ignorance made him want to spit.
I gotta get outta here before I rip this weakling ship apart, he raged silently.
"Will you please stop," she sighed, "and tell me why you are so upset?"
"Upset," he cocked his head, oblivious to the fact that she couldn't see, "upset," he ground out the word. "I'm not upset – I'm furious," he jabbed a fat claw at her, "and you're too stupid to even care. Hah, wait till we get to Tuchanka," he threw his arms up as he continued pacing. "I can't wait to see the look on your squishy blue face!"
"My face is not squishy," she stated coldly, "and don't call me stupid."
"Maybe you shouldn't act stupid!"
He heard her take a deep breath. "You're acting like a child."
What? What?!
He froze. "What did you say?"
"You heard me."
His lips pulled back in a snarl as he ground his teeth. "You're lucky I can't fit in that damned cockpit princess, 'cause you'd regret ever cutting me loose from that stinking pit," he barked, stomping towards her to emphasize every word.
She had the nerve to laugh as she shook her head. "Too late, Nakmor Arjax," he didn't like the way she tried to sound like him when she said his name – it sounded like a old varren hacking up a bone – but it was funny, so he grinned.
Fiery little shit, he admitted, gots guts too. Hnnh…wont matter much though.
"Listen – I'm sorry, but I have to take care of my mother. I'll take you to Tuchanka after – I promise."
He stalked off toward the galley, the rage suddenly forgotten.
The Monument stood in the courtyard before the Council Tower, wrapped around the towering structure like the high ramparts of an ancient castle. It shone with reflective gloss in the bright artificial light – clean white marble surrounded by peaceful gardens and the glittering waters of the lakes and canals beyond.
Valyria entered through one of several walkways cut through the stone wall, emerald eyes wide in wonder. The guards stationed about the perimeter – dressed smartly in uniformed armor of black and gold – stood at attention. She felt a stab of sympathy for them as she passed, wondering how they managed to stand in one place for so long.
A towering statue stood within, centered in a tranquil pool.
She froze mid stride as soon as she saw it.
Father?
She stood at least fifty feet high – clad in armor, her feet apart, head held high. In her left fist she carried a rifle in the crook of her elbow, raised to the sky. Her right reached out, towards the stars, palm up and open as if she was reaching out to gather them up.
Valyria blinked in wonder at the sight – as her feet carried her to the waters edge. She craned her neck back, holding herself against the sudden chill she felt inside. Her eyes roamed her father's features, before coming to rest on the plaque at her feet.
In Memoriam of Cmdr. Valerie Shepard, Council Spectre, Alliance Navy – "We faced our enemy together."
Goddess, she covered her mouth with a trembling hand.
She turned, daze-like, watery eyes searching the faces of the few pilgrims wandering the courtyard. Flags fluttered in the breeze. Flowers were set in random places by the wall. Birds chirped in distant trees.
Then she saw the names – written in miniscule script – covering every inch of the towering walls. Millions of names.
Unable to stop the tears, she placed her palm upon the polished surface and wept.
An old turian soldier watched the young asari with interest through the camera feed on his omni as he sat in his hover-chair, skeletal form wrapped in blankets. He had parked next to the lake, beyond the monument, to observe from afar. He brushed a thin, brittle talon over his quivering mandibles in thought.
He ran the message from Darius in his mind as he watched the girl weep.
Father –
An urgent matter requires your attention. A young asari is making her way to the Citadel, with a heavy burden. I advised her to meet with you at the Memorial. This is a very delicate matter – a family matter. You will understand when you see her.
Zooming in on the young girl's face, he began to suspect he was about to have a very interesting day.
He approached from her side, gliding silently above the smooth flagstones of the courtyard. Her eyes were closed, dripping tears as she sniffed quietly. He folded his talons in his lap and waited.
After a few moments, the moroseness of the Memorial began to sink its claws into him too – which set his thin plates itching. He didn't like coming here – too many memories – too much pain.
"Eh, excuse me," he began, then cleared his throat as she jumped – wiping her face in a hurry. "Sorry. Bad joke – nothing clears the sinuses like a war memorial," he wheezed a weak laugh at himself. She didn't smile, or laugh. Hm. Must be losing my touch, he thought.
He watched her hold herself tighter as she glanced at him, unsure.
"Sorry," he gestured to himself, "I'm a bit eccentric with old age. Garrus Vakarian," he inclined his head briefly, "and you are?"
She turned to face him slowly, raising her eyes to his even slower.
He felt his insides clench as he drank in the details of her face; the dark freckles, the light blue skin fading to almost white at the tips of her crest, the small, narrow lips – and above all – her piercing emerald eyes.
Spirits preserve me.
"My name is Valyria," she paused, taking a breath, "Valyria T'Soni." Her quiet voice trembled – but a strength he recognized lay at its foundations.
It had been many years – decades – since Garrus Vakarian had been rendered utterly frozen by shock. He slumped back in his chair, unable to speak or do anything but blink and draw shaky, wheezy breaths for several long seconds.
"How is this possible," he finally managed to whisper. His mind reached back, all those decades ago, to that sad day they had finally reached Earth – the gut wrenching news that awaited them there – and Liara's keening wails of loss and torment when they saw what remained of his friend.
There was barely anything left of her.
"Mother found a way," Valyria sniffed.
Garrus shook – visibly – unable to fight the surge of emotions broiling within.
"Tell me."
Valyria watched as he gazed down at her mother's remains within the dull grey transport container provided by the Omaha. He'd asked to see her, following her explanation at the Monument. Trust but verify, he croaked, unable to meet her eyes.
"Ah, T'Soni," he keened, barely a whisper. His eyes misted as his mandibles flared in sporadic ticks.
"I was there when we found her," he spoke louder after clearing his throat. "On Therum – was it Therum? Hmm," he waved dismissively. "Whatever. Spirits, I hate being old."
Valyria bit her bottom lip – fighting the urge to cry and smile all at once.
"She was a good friend – a brave soul – and," he drew out the word, turning to address Valyria, "probably the only person in the galaxy Shepard tried not to piss off," he huffed a weak laugh, but then shook his head sadly. "She had it rough, for someone so young. Never complained about it though – not like she had a choice – but damn it," he rasped, hacking as a coughing fit seized him.
Valyria moved to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. Through the blanket wrapping him, she felt how thin and fragile he was.
"Are you okay," she asked quietly, as his coughs subsided.
"Hmm," he seemed to consider, "I've been better – but I'm not dead yet," he nodded to himself, "despite everything we went through. I never thought I'd be one of the last."
Valyria didn't know what to say at that – so she said nothing.
"What are your plans," he gestured to Liara, "for…," his voice cracked as it trailed off.
"I will take her home, to Thessia."
Garrus blinked then, cocking his head at her. "Don't you think she should be with Shepard?"
Valyria mimicked his expression. "What do you mean?"
Garrus' mandibles flared as his eyes twinkled.
When she asked him about the legality of his proposal – his scarred, old face tilted up at her in a turian's approximation of a grin.
"Screw 'em," he rasped. "There's an old human proverb Shepard taught me, back in the day – some rules are meant to be broken."
He'd called in some favors – thrown his name around.
In the end, after the quiet walk through the path cleared by C-Sec and Memorial Praetorians both, they stood before the sealed and guarded entrance to her tomb, built beneath the towering statue made in her image, several levels above.
They watched in silence as the door rose, revealing a single casket on a raised platform within.
Garrus turned to Valyria, giving a single nod.
They entered with the guards bearing her mother, watching in reverent silence as they placed her beside the woman she loved.
Valyria stood numbed as they filed out. At her side, Garrus sniffed as he rummaged through his blanket. "Spirits, where is it," he grumbled, then finally pulled a small bottle free. "Ah," he sighed, swishing the brown liquid contents. "Be a dear," he asked, holding the bottle up in a tremored grip.
Valyria nodded, pulling the cork, the powerful aroma assaulting her nose immediately.
"I'd offer you a pull, but it's turian – sour as the rest of us," he laughed, earning a sad smile from her as she handed it to him. "Thanks," he patted her arm, then lifted the bottle to his friends at rest.
"See you at the bar you two," he whispered, "try not to wreck the place before I get there."
Valyria dropped her head as he drank deep.
"Thank you, for arranging this Mr. Vakarian," she whispered in the silence that followed.
His laugh was a dry gun-shot, followed by a throaty chuckle. "Its Garrus, to you."