The world was fading for Garrus. He felt Shepard beneath him, carrying him into the light of the Conduit. He felt a sudden jolt and weightlessness. And he felt cold. Cold was spreading from his wound. He was bleeding away.
The light dimmed. It faded to near-darkness. There were voices all around him. There was a numb throbbing in his head. Was it his life dripping out of him, one heartbeat at a time? Was it some noise just too far out of earshot to perceive?
Shepard was talking. She was shouting, too. Her voice was something to hold onto. He tried to focus but it kept slipping away.
As the world slipped away into the blackness, Garrus saw a word through the darkness, the neon glow searing into his brain. The only word there was left. Of course.
Afterlife.
Garrus awoke softly and slowly. The mists of his dreams gently dispersed and the world started to feel solid around him. He felt like he was lying in a hammock. Someone was speaking very softly over him, which Garrus thought was damned unfair.
"Shut up for a second," he said. His voice came out as a croak.
The room was small and dank. It smelt of iron oxide. It looked familiar, and from the faint vibration everywhere he knew he was on a moving starship.
Someone else was there. On a stool beside him, watching him intently though faintly glowing receptors, was a silvery form he remembered from his dreams. He knew it. It was EDI's old body. It was her.
"Shepard? It's really you?" Garrus rasped.
EDI's normally expressionless face had a tense, pained look to it. But she was smiling anyway. Whatever was inside that synthetic body, it was human all right.
"It's really me," Shepard said. It was her voice. "How are you feeling?"
"Pretty rough. Probably the third worst beating I ever took. How long was I out?"
"Can't be more that eighteen hours. Aria's medic did a good job. Wait, third worst?"
"I'd say so," said Garrus, pulling himself upright, "Sidonis setting me up for that ambush comes in at number two, and the worst had to be getting crushed under the entire Citadel at the Battle of the Citadel. On the downside I feel worse than when my face got shot off, so..."
Shepard managed a smile. Garrus took her hands and she helped him haul himself upright. His side ached, but he felt well secured by bandages under his fatigues. There was a pause and Garrus tried to start things up again.
"Aria... we're on the Bastille, right?" asked Garrus. "I saw the Afterlife sign. Guess Aria had the other end of the Conduit secured. Figures."
"Well, I was surprised," said Shepard. "A whole battalion of mercs were yelling and waving guns when we came through. I guess, out of the frying pan..."
Shepard trailed off. The silence fell again and Garrus knew the only thing that would break it.
"Damn it, Shepard," Garrus said. "We... we killed Liara. We killed the Reapers. It's over. Is this real?"
Shepard pulled on Garrus' hands. With a heave, they stood up together while Garrus tried a tentative shuffle with his numbed feet.
"It's as close to real as we're going to get, I guess," she said. Her voice was monotone but getting more strained.
"We killed Liara. I wish we hadn't," Garrus said. Shepard slipped her arms around his waist and they held each other.
"Harbinger killed Liara, Garrus," said Shepard. "It wasn't us. I mean, we should have killed her, but it was all Harbinger at the end."
"And to do it we had to kill our best friend. They had to kill our best friend. We... I just... Everything just went so wrong."
Shepard's voice was almost adamant, but not quite.
"We can't blame ourselves for what happened back there," she said. "We didn't make that. Liara made that. I just don't know why she did it. Why make that nightmare Synthesis at all? Why risk the Reapers' return for that... place?"
Garrus drew in breath. Being nearly killed always focused things for him.
"If I had to guess," said Garrus, "I bet it'd be the same reason I built the Bastille. Or you took control of the Reapers. All of us wanted to keep going, in our own crazy ways. All of us thought we could take a little more future. Liara was always a little like that. She always wanted to know more. I think... I think that a repository of everyone's lives is exactly what she would do."
"But at that cost... all those lives," said Shepard. "She killed EDI just to keep going. I wanted to die just so I could stop."
"I know," said Garrus. "I think the Liara we knew disappeared a long time ago. Maybe something didn't get written over into EDI's systems properly. Maybe she just went a little nuts from all the years of watching her friends die. I think that might push me over the edge. Hell, it did. Hence our surroundings."
"You're right," said Shepard, "I would have done anything to have my friends back out there in dark space. If I'd had a chance to keep you with me all that time... hell, she dedicated her whole life to it. Preserving us. Or some part of us. Keeping the memory alive."
"Until the memory didn't mean anything any more. She didn't let go, Shep. It didn't even matter when she had two real-life friends back with her. It was all about the fantasy."
"But we're real, Garrus. It is real. We made it."
They held each other close. For a second, nothing else mattered.
There was a hiss of ancient pistons and the door opened. A human and a salarian strode through. From their rough clothes and holstered pistols they looked to be frontier traders... or pirates.
"Come on, Harbinger," said the human gruffly. "Aria wants you."
"Harbinger?" said Garrus in surprise.
"Damned right," said the salarian. "Hell of a job you did out there on Ilos. Hell of a job."
"Killed the Oracle Empress. Incredible," said the human.
Garrus thought fast.
"Right. Uh-huh," he said. "Yeah, we're coming. Just, not fast. Still healing up."
He tried to mouth the word what to Shepard. She ignored him, but Garrus spotted a faint smile around those burnished lips. He placed one arm around her and gingerly walked out after the two pirates. As they moved out into the corridor Garrus recognised the cramped, spartan walkway of his own space prison. The walls had a deep patina but the lights still worked fine. Turian engineering was built to last.
"So, how does it feel being demoted to mobility assistance mech, Commander?" said Garrus to Shepard, leaning on her as he stretched his overtaxed leg muscles.
"Shut up and walk it off," Shepard growled.
They came to a large doorway. The thumping music now filled the corridor as the salarian tapped the entry code into the panel.
"Alright, buddy," said the human. "You're about to get a big welcome home from Omega."
Garrus, Shepard supporting him under his arms, hobbled forward as the door hissed open and a wave of sound and heat and light washed over him. Holographic flames lit up the dance floor of afterlife as asari, human, salarian and a multitude of other races danced chaotically, orgiastically, to Aria's tune. Rows of empty cryogenic cells stretched above them. Every one was filled with dancing mercs, pirates, strippers and lowlifes of every kind. Garrus smelt sweat and alcohol.
The Queen of Omega herself stood on the stage where Garrus had built his drilling ground in the centre of the great chamber. Her blue skin was almost black in the fiery glow of Afterlife. She lifted a clenched fist and the music faded a little. Thousands of scarred, drunk and grinning faces turned to watch her.
"People of Omega," Aria began. Her voice echoed through the huge chamber and, Garrus guessed, throughout the corridors and rooms of the entire Bastille. "We have a very special guest joining us tonight. You've seen the news broadcasts. You've seen the battle over Ilos. You watched the Empress die. Now you see the man behind the warsuit. Garrus the Harbinger!"
Aria pointed and Omega cheered. It was a roar from the gut. It shook the walkway Garrus stood on. He saw fists pumping in the air, guns brandished with wild abandon and hoarse throats opening up to chant.
"Harbinger! Harbinger! Harbinger!"
"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Garrus to the salarian.
"What are you talking about?" laughed the pirate. "You're a hero, man! Time to live it up!"
By the time Garrus had made his way through the crowd to join Aria, he'd already been slapped on the back, shaken by both hands, hugged by a huge, tearful elcor merc and had five asari ask for his babies. Shepard started steering him away from asari after that.
He was pulled up onto the stage by Aria to whoops from the whole cell block. As the music rose again and their conversation became inaudible except between them, Aria smirked at him and playfully punched his shoulder.
"Well, looks like you made it through again, Archangel," she said. "You must have nine lives."
"They're calling me Harbinger," said Garrus. "I'm guessing that was your idea."
"And it worked like a dream," said Aria. "When Shepard jumped out of the Conduit yelling for a medic, we were about to shoot you down like pyjaks."
"Yeah, about that. Why exactly did you nail a mass relay to my ship?"
"Couldn't have the Empress getting hold of it. That bitch would have turned it into some other way to screw us over. I was planning on using it as a back door to trash her whole creepy setup as soon as we got a chance. I was planning for almost a thousand years. Damn it, Archangel! Never imagined you'd be the one to beat me to it."
"Actually not funny," said Garrus grimly. "So these people think I was inside Harbinger, huh? Great. Looks like you thawed me out so I could become public enemy number one. I knew I put you away for a reason."
"Cool it, Garrus," said Shepard, stepping in. "I get the feeling we got off easy. Come on then, Aria, spill the beans. What's been going on?"
Aria beckoned them to the back of the stage where an elevator waited to carry them up to Garrus' command centre. As the old servomotors hauled the old platform high above the riot of Afterlife, Aria leaned back against the railing and sneered at both of them.
"I'm just trying to control the story, Shepard," she said. "I didn't plan on Archangel being any more than a pawn while I was keeping you on ice all those years, but the two of you turned out to be one hell of a bishop! When I told the galaxy you were my mercenary pilot in a stolen experimental warsuit built by the salarians, those amphibian bastards played right into my hands. They hated the Empress almost as much as me. Everyone knew they were planning to hit her sometime. They refused to confirm or deny and now everyone's looking to me for answers. Now the Empire is leaderless, the fleet is fragmented and my agents across asari space are starting a civil war as we speak. It's a dream come true. Thousands of worlds will left undefended. Easy pickings for Omega... and its Queen. I think we've got a good two hundred years of free plunder from what you just did on Ilos."
"Aria, what the hell have you done?" blustered Garrus. "You're unleashing your mercenary attack dogs now? Not on my watch! Not from my damned ship."
"Like you even have a choice. I saved your ass from deep freeze. I saved your ass from bleeding out. You owe me big right now, Archangel. I got you out of bed to watch my broadcast."
"I get the impression we're coming in halfway into the action here," said Shepard. "Where did this all start?"
"Watch my broadcast," said Aria. "You might learn something."
Across the galaxy, people tuned in. The extranet broadcasts from Omega had been intermittent, but everyone tuned in now. While the other news agencies were issuing confused reports of what had happened on Ilos, Aria seemed to have all the answers. This announcement was going to be big. From the trading floors of Sur'Kesh to the mining colonies on the Far Rim, everyone was watching for Aria's next big announcement.
When Aria's video was posted this time, it started with the now-familiar shots from earlier newscasts. Republican rebels raising the black flag on Ilium. Dead Reapers pounded into scrap by the Imperial Fleet. Civilians gunned down by cackling mercenaries. A grainy shot of Harbinger being blasted with blue lightning.
Aria spoke.
"People of the Asari Empire and Council space. I have struck at last and the galaxy as you know it is gone. The Oracle Empress is dead, thanks to me. The Asari Empire is being taken over by the new Republics, thanks to me. All this is my doing. I am Aria T'Loak. I am Omega."
A video of a fleet of pirate warships blotting out the sun now played as Aria continued her voice-over.
"Most of you know me as a scary story to frighten your kids into line. The evil witch who lives out in dark space, waiting to come and get you if you don't eat your greens. The Empire say I'm a legend pirates tell to throw the Imperial Navy off the scent off their buddies. The Council say I disappeared in a prison ship three thousand years ago. One cult on Khar'shan thinks I'm the modern incarnation of the goddess of death. Last one comes pretty close, but I'm worse than any legend. As the Empire falls, I'm moving in. Your government has failed you and you're going to pay the price. Omega has thousands of ships just waiting to drop in to a world near you. You'd better lock your doors at night."
The video now cut to Aria herself.
"And why? Because Omega is forever. You'll never pin us down. There's a heart of darkness in this galaxy that never dies. Three thousand years ago you forgot the one rule."
The video panned out to encompass the whole central chamber of the Bastille, filled with the galaxy's lawless. They bellowed as one.
"Don't fuck with Omega!"
Shepard and Garrus hung back from Aria's triumphal procession through the mob. As the asari strutted back into the control room she grinned at their obvious disapproval.
"Aw, don't look like that," said Aria. "It's not all doom and gloom for the good guys. With asari assets out of action, the Citadel Fleet are now the only force in the galaxy who could even try to take me on. You just gave the balance of power back to the rest of the Council for the first time in nearly a millennium."
Shepard shook her head in disbelief
"Seriously? You're unleashing hell now? You waited three thousand years just for an opportunity to burgle the entire galaxy? How is it that of all of us... survivors... you're the only one who's just the same? And while we're here, how are you a survivor in the first place?"
"You haven't been listening at all. I never tried to switch careers like you guys. I am Omega. I kept up the good fight while you were trying to make your own little worlds with space monsters or dead people or ice cubes."
"Being the pirate queen doesn't make you immortal," said Garrus. "You're just like us. Look at this place! You never let go of anything. Same old Aria, same old self-justifying crap."
"Oh, you want justification!" laughed Aria. "Of course you do. Everyone does. Well, you can take your pick. A volus miner once thought spending so much time with all that eezo in the first Omega pumped up my biotics so high it made me immortal. The Academy of Thessia think I'm some kind of ideal cocktail of alien genes. There's a batarian cult out there who think I'm the worldly incarnation of the goddess of death. You name it, someone out there believes it."
"Which one is true?" asked Shepard.
"All I know is this. I'm still here. And you came to me. Just like when you were a Cerberus minion and a screw-up cop. My door was open for you like it is to all the lawless. It'll still be open so long as you stay out of my way. You don't have to like me. I'll always be here just to keep the galaxy's governments honest, and the fleets on their toes, and to make sure the kids eat their greens. And if that means shooting up a few thousand cities every millennium, then so be it."
"Blaming society as usual. Spirits," said Garrus. "I've had enough of this."
"Then beat it," said Aria. "Take your safe conduct and get out of here."
The Kodiak juddered as its inertial dampeners aligned themselves. Most of the blue Alliance paintwork had faded to grey or flaked off entirely after the punishment that the unexpected trip, millennia late, had inflicted on the battered old shuttle. Like everything else in Shepard and Garrus' new world, though, it still worked fine where it counted.
The docking bay's containment field glowed before them. It looked out onto the darkness of space, and an uncertain future.
Filling up the docking bay further toward the Bastille's axis was the Conduit. The other side. It was surrounded by a makeshift barricade of old shipping containers and indeterminate boxes. A few mercs still stood guard but there was no real fear of anything else coming through.
Shepard looked at the Conduit. Arguably the greatest legacy of the Protheans. Now half of it was gone, what did it mean now?
"Just one doorway..." said Shepard, "Between Liara's paradise and Aria's inferno. Funny."
"Don't go getting existential on me now, Shepard. I've had it up to here with grand spiritual explanations."
"Heh, you're right. What's the hold-up?"
"Okay, you're not going to like this," said Garrus, "but this shuttle's going to need a lot more calibration before I can take it through a relay. What did Aria do to it?"
He began tapping out sequences on the dashboard. Shepard looked at him. He was worn out.
"Hey, Garrus. Relax. I'll take care of it."
Garrus sat back and Shepard's eyes flickered as she merged with the shuttle. In an instant, the engines roared, the navigation aligned itself, and every system registered good to go. Garrus' instincts kicked in and he started mapping their course to the nearest relay.
"Wow!" said Shepard, her body twitching back to life. "Now that was a mission. Was that what it was like all those years in the main battery? Because I think I get it now!"
"Impressive," said Garrus. "You're a real AI now... or... something. You can run the shuttle! I guess I'll have to book in some antique tech classes just to catch up."
"I've been able to do a lot of weird things for a long time," said Shepard, smiling. "I think it's because this was part of the old Normandy. The last part, I guess. Felt kind of like being in the Synthesis."
Garrus paused. He had to ask.
"What was it really like in there?"
"It was like a dream," said Shepard. "A great dream. It was like everything was okay, and I didn't have to worry any more."
"Sounds pretty good to me."
"It felt like death. Watching you die from the outside... it wasn't a hard decision. The minute I heard you calling, I knew where I needed to be."
She smiled. They clasped hands as the shuttle jetted forward, out of the containment field and away into space. The star which the Bastille was orbiting rose swiftly from the contours of the massive ship and they saw one another by natural light again.
"I couldn't believe it," said Garrus. "I was actually happy when Harbinger showed up. Happy to see a Reaper! What the hell kind of world is it when I'm happy to see a Reaper?"
"My kind of world," said Shepard. "The Reapers were my people, in a way. I've been a Reaper for way longer than I was ever a human. I wanted a way out for them. And Harbinger... he just wanted a way out, too."
Garrus shook his head.
"Sorry, Shepard, I'm still getting used to that. That's the weirdest thing out of all of this. Harbinger was still loyal to you, even at the end. What was that about? It was like you trusted them, and didn't trust them all the way along, at the same time! They wanted to be out harvesting, and you kept them in line, and... it's just crazy."
"They were a race of their own," said Shepard. "They were a lot like the two of us. Out of time. They didn't really belong anywhere. I'm glad I found them somewhere they could call home. They wouldn't have found it in any other damned place."
"Then I'm glad they made it," said Garrus, "I'm glad you're here with me in this life, whatever it is now. Three thousand years, huh? And it's just you and me and Aria left. Crazy. I'm glad it's you and me, anyway."
Shepard looked out of the viewport at the Bastille, now illuminated by the faraway star. She'd never seen it before. So this was Garrus' legacy. The long arm of the law creating a giant untraceable base of operations for galactic crime.
"Did we just set the galaxy up so these assholes can go kill and steal everything?" said Shepard, half-smiling, "Because that isn't really an ideal result for anybody."
"You know..." said Garrus, "I actually don't care. Whatever we do, I don't think it'll ever be enough. All those years we spent trying to save everyone, and look where it got us. The galaxy's in ruins, the asari have gone crazy and when we finally finished up with the Reapers, all we got for it was one beaten-up shuttle, no money, and all our friends are dead. Also I'm the most infamous merc on the extranet and you've turned into a robot."
"You know," said Shepard, "now would be a great time to do all those things we never got a chance to do last time around. Really have the shore leave we deserve. We could watch a city wiped off the map or see a rainforest get set on fire! And we wouldn't have to help anyone."
"You know you're damned right," said Garrus. "But my vote says we go to Eletania first. We should go there and shoot every monkey we can find."
"Right," said Shepard. "Then we can visit Tuchanka and see if we can fit a saddle on Kalros."
"I always wanted to design a gun that used thresher maws as ammo. Tuchanka it is."
"I knew that's why I came back for you," said Shepard. "We belong together. Together abusing the wildlife."
They were still laughing when the relay swung into view. The future, at last, was within their reach.
There was a faint bleeping on the dashboard. They both spoke at once.
"There's a new..."
"It's..."
"Well, now it's our private terminal," said Garrus, "You'd better open it though. For old times' sake."
The message was short. Much like its author.
Commander Shepard and General Vakarian,
You may not remember me, but I remember meeting you on Ilium centuries ago. I saw you mentioned by Aria's vids on the extranet and I need your help.
I can't explain right now why I'm still alive after all this time, but I have a proposition for you if you're interested in making yourself a few credits. Meet me at the Vol-Turian Embassy on the Citadel and we'll talk it over.
Niftu Cal
Vol-Turian Commonwealth Special Trade Envoy
Dormant Accounts Department
"Do you think we should...?" Shepard asked.
"Oh, we're going." said Garrus, "I've got to hear the explanation for this."
"Lead on, Harbinger."
"Besides," Garrus went on. "We'll need to see the Council anyway. According to the terms of the original Bastille contract I'm owed a lot of back pay."
The End.
Well there we are. Thanks for joining me on this journey - some of you have loyally stuck with Our Blue Heaven and I'd greatly appreciate your feedback of the fic in the round.
It's interesting, over time I got a lot more caught up with the plot as a rollicking adventure with the cast of Mass Effect than trying to tell any deeper moral tale. There are some deeper ideas in this fic, but I don't think they're as important in the long run as having a plain old good time. Fun is what pulled me into the universe of Mass Effect into the first place and fun is the best of it.
I was deeply cut up at the end of Mass Effect 3, solely because Shepard's great epic was over. I appreciate your support in working out some of my residual emotional feedback. May the Enkindlers bless Bioware, and here's to Mass Effect 4.
