Chapter 22: Illium

Shepard jerked awake, cursing and sputtering with his hand on a pistol, but he couldn't remember why. His heart was pounding in matching rhythm with the vein on his temple. He found himself on the couch in his quarters aboard the Normandy trying to focus his blurry vision on the empty fish tank. The unmistakable sound of retching came from the bathroom.

Yet, it was Yeoman Chamber's cheerful voice on his intercom that greeted him.

"Good Morning, Commander! Sorry to wake you, but Miranda would like to speak with you in her office on the crew deck."

The horrendous sound of vomiting repeated itself from the bathroom.

"Oh my... Apologies, Commander. I'll tell her you're indisposed."

The intercom clicked off and Shepard rubbed his temples, trying to massage life back into his alcohol-soaked brain. Despite the best efforts of the SR-2's crew, they'd been unable to catch the Collector ship before it passed through the Omega 4 relay. He couldn't justify destroying a second Normandy, regardless of how much Garrus protested, and Shepard was forced to abandon the search for his sister.

It had been a dark day, indeed.

The cold anger in him still seethed and he couldn't stop himself from replaying the conversation with the Illusive Man over and over in his head.

"I may have let it slip that you were alive and with Cerberus," The Illusive Man had revealed.

"You risked the lives of my sister, my friends, my crew, and that entire colony just to lure the Collectors there?!" Shepard had raged.

"A calculated risk."

Shepard was going to "calculated risk" his hands around that son-of-a-bitch's throat if it was the last thing he did.

Fucking Cerberus….

"Garrus?" Shepard asked the darkness weakly. His mouth felt like it was coated with resin and he could still taste the bile in his throat. It took most of his effort, but he managed to stand and found himself ankle-deep in a carpet of empty bottles.

It had been just over a week since Horizon. The liquor was still sour in his belly. The alcohol had done nothing to dull the roiling black anger and pain still gnawing at him.

Garrus hadn't fared nearly so well.

"Fuck... me…." was the panting response from the bathroom, followed by more coughing and retching.

Garrus emerged, reeking of vomit and dragging himself towards Shepard's desk. He wobbled unsteadily and reached for another bottle. He raised it to his mouth only to discover it was empty, so he tossed the bottle to join the dozens on the floor.

"We're out of booze," the Turian complained darkly.

"You drank it all," Shepard grumbled. "Those are all dextro-bottles."

"Still not drunk enough…I need to… to tell you… Shepard…" Garrus paused. His mandibles spasamed, then he spun and ran back into Shepard's bathroom. The sound of retching repeated louder.

Shepard winced, partially in sympathy and partially at the noise. His head was pounding harder now, but he still managed to dress himself. When he returned to check on Garrus, the grieving Turian had passed out on his bathroom floor.

"Sleep it off, brother." Shepard murmured to the armored lump, tucking a spare towel under his fringed head.

Garrus stirred briefly. "Here if you need me," he croaked before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Shepard's stomach recoiled at the thought of food. Instead, he dry swallowed a few hangover meds, ignored the unread messages light blinking at his terminal, and made his way to Miranda.

"Shepard… I'm sorry about your sister," the Cerberus Operative began. She paused and studied the Commander.

He was in a frightful state.

Shepard was swaying on his feet, but he didn't look unsteady. He looked like he couldn't decide which direction to destroy first. His cheeks were gaunt and there were heavy bags under his eyes which only served to accentuate the furious madness they expressed. His lips were pulled back into a strained fake smile that looked more like a tiger baring his teeth.

Miranda tried to maintain her poised demeanor, but couldn't resist stealing uncertain glances at the Commander as he paced the room.

"and… I also wanted to assure you that I knew nothing of the Illusive Man's intentions to use your sister as bait for the Collectors…" Miranda continued. "...I believe that may have gone too far."

Shepard blinked and took a second look at the woman. He was expecting an angry lecture on using Cerberus resources in a personal agenda. But, there was genuine sympathy in her voice and in her eyes. He had to remind himself that was probably manufactured too.

"I hope you won't take it personally if I don't believe you, given that you report directly to that piece of shit."

Miranda's expression didn't change and she met the Commander's bloodshot eyes without a trace of fear.

"I understand, Shepard. And, I don't blame you. But…I find myself in the unpleasant position of asking for your help. I don't like discussing personal matters, but this is important."

"What's going on?"

"You remember what I told you about Father, building a dynasty? There was another reason I went to Cerberus for protection. I also have a sister…and I'm trying to save her."

Shepard stepped onto Nos Astra and immediately felt dirty despite the clean white walls that surrounded him. Garrus' steps seemed extremely loud at his side; whether from the Turian's aggression or his hangover, Shepard couldn't be sure.

Garrus was in a dark and foul mood, it seemed as if nothing but blood would satiate him. Shepard couldn't agree more. Every collector he shot helped ease the pain of Maggie's loss. He looked forward to adding the Collectors to the galaxy's list of extinct races, right before Cerberus.

"Don't let this place fool you. It's no safer here than Omega," Garrus warned in a low growl.

Shepard glanced at his friend and in the brief eye contact, they shared their mutual pain, mistrust, and hatred. The order was "build the team" until the Illusive Man could get them through the Omega 4 relay to finish extracting their vengeance.

But, for the time being, Shepard's solace lay in seeing Liara again. He took the stairs two at a time, blowing past her assistant. He expected to sweep the young Asari doctor off her feet and into his arms in a joyful reunion.

Instead, he found Liara on a vid-call threatening to flay someone with her mind. Much to Shepard's horror, his innocent and sweet Asari doctor was using the exact the same words as her traitorous mother, Benezia. Shock and horror froze Shepard in place at the doorway.

Eventually, Liara finished her business and turned to see Shepard. She called his name excitedly, demanding that her assistant, Nyrexis, hold her calls as she threw herself into his arms.

Liara kissed her lover without hesitation. The lithe Asari moved into his arms with the same routine familiarity that their short time living together had established. Their lips touched, tentatively at first. Then, like their first night together, Liara's passion overtook her. She clung to Shepard with a fierce strength and deepened the kiss as if to devour him.

Shepard was still frozen, squirming awkwardly beneath the warmth of Liara's kiss. Before, he would have thrown himself into the love and affection they shared. But after what he'd heard, he studied the sensation remotely with fear and suspicion.

Was she indoctrinated too?

Liara seemed to sense the misgivings in her lover and pulled reluctantly away from the kiss. She looked into his eyes, studying him, their lips only inches apart. Eventually, she shook her head, as if coming to some conclusion and stepped back. She moved behind the desk.

Then, they got down to business.

There was nothing hidden from Liara. She knew his mission, his arrangement with Cerberus, even about the events on Horizon. She knew everything. She discussed missions, intel and galactic politics.

And, not a word about Maggie, Shepard noted to himself, cautiously.

Shepard wasn't sure how to respond. This wasn't the same Liara he had loved so deeply just a few weeks before.

But, it wasn't a few weeks. It was years, he forced himself to remember.

This wasn't Liara. This Asari was different. She was cold, callous, and stained. Shepard's heart ached, longing so desperately for the Asari who giggled like a school girl. But, she was gone. Murdered by a cruel and unyielding galaxy. In vain hope, he asked Liara to come back to the Normandy anyway.

"I'm sorry I can't, Shepard. I have commitments here, things I need to take care of."

"Are you in trouble?"

"No. No trouble. But, it's been a long two years. I had things to do while you were gone. I have debts to repay. Listen, if you want to help. I need someone with hacking expertise. Someone I can trust."

Shepard cast a quick glance back to Garrus who offered a silent nod.

"If it'll help you, I'll take care of it."

"Close quarters," Garrus growled over the Dantilus Tower blueprints. "I'd suggest the biotic ball of fury."

Shepard and Garrus were planning their assault on a strongly fortified and heavily guarded crime lord-ess. Their final strategy was more brazen and direct than usual. But, the conversation with Liara had left Shepard's mood dark and he was craving the violence like a red-sand junkie.

Shepard nodded his agreement and radioed the Normandy.

"Hey, Commander. Liara coming with us?" Joker asked excitedly.

"No. I'm calling for Jack. Have her meet us at the attached coordinates."

"You, Garrus, and... Jack?" the pilot paused, uncertainly "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes."

Joker's voice became muffled as he spoke on another channel, then promptly returned. "Yeah, Commander - she's on her way. But, do I have your permission to take off and watch the flames from orbit? That's a whole lotta rage right now...just sayin'."

Joker's voice was only half-teasing.

"That'll be all, Joker," Shepard responded between clenched teeth.

His anger didn't have to wait long to be unleashed. Garrus and Jack were barely out of the skycar at the base of Dantius Tower when the mechs started gunning down Salarian workmen. Shepard could feel the Turian growling by his side.

"Hello, Dead people!" Jack chimed happily.

Shepard found himself grinning like a maniac.

"Couldn't agree more, Jack."

As it turned out, the mission was a perfect one for blowing off rage and aggression: a building full of cowering and murdered Salarians. Ruthless mercenaries who needed killing. And, a mysterious assassin who was damned good at what he did.

It was a job interview in bodies and bullet holes. Shepard wasn't sure who was interviewing whom. Each grisly discovery taught Shepard a little more about the man he was chasing. He didn't kill innocents: a locked room full of cowering Salarians attested to that. The accuracy and lethality of the wounds on his targets attested to his professionalism. And, from the timing of the kills it was obvious the assassin knew they were coming. He was probably shadowing them right now. And, he was egging them on.

He paced uneasily out of the room and looked over the construction site as Garrus and Jack finished interrogating a rather rude and obnoxious mercenary. Garrus stepped up next to him, following his gaze. The two men glanced at one another - the understanding implicit.

"What do you think, Garrus?"

"Merc was killed by a precise shot from a highly skilled sniper. I think the shooter's our target."

"Great. Let's get his attention."

The two friends watched the mouthy merc fall screaming hundreds of stories to his death. Matching smiles lit up their faces.

"Defenestration," Shepard said with a nod.

"Good word," Garrus agreed.

"I oughta take notes from you, Shepard," Jack added gleefully.

"Welcome to the team, Krios. How about a drink?"

Garrus, Thane, Jack, and Shepard settled themselves at a table in the Nos Astra bar. Nearby, a Turian was being friend-zoned by his Quarian date and a bachelor party watched an Asari dancer with raucous cheers. Thane listened appreciatively as Shepard and Garrus laid out their plans to secure their next recruit, an Asari Justicar. They shared information and determined that the local law enforcement was involved. Garrus, with his C-Sec connections, took Jack to see what other leads he could turn up. Shepard and Thane watched them go.

Shepard was drinking heavily and Thane sat peering at his medicinal tea.

"So...dying huh?" Shepard asked casually, after pounding another shot.

"Yes. I thought you'd want to know more. You don't have to worry about the rest of the crew. My illness is not communicable."

Shepard found himself learning more than he thought he'd ever want to know about Kepral's Syndrome, Soul Names, and the Hanar's bioluminescent communication. Shepard was especially attentive when Thane began discussing his religion. The "oceans and afterlife" parable was of particular interest.

The assassin had a strangely comforting rumbling voice that coupled with the stern faith of his words managed to ease the dark rage boiling inside of Shepard for a time. The Commander listened attentively and asked questions with a strange familiarity that he couldn't describe. He felt an intuitive trust that the Assassin was being completely honest. It was a simple and pure trust.

He answers my questions like I used to answer Maggie's questions, Shepard thought to himself. Like a father.

For the first time since Horizon, Shepard's mind wasn't consumed with rage or pain. In the relative peace, he reflected about the frustrating persistence of Maggie's childhood questions. She'd really loved the "why?" game. "Why do ships run on ezeo?" "Why does his uniform have four stripes?" "Why doesn't mom stay with us?" Why. Why. Why. The bittersweet memories made his throat tighten and chest heave. Shepard hadn't realized he'd let the conversation lapse into silence until the Drell across from him spoke.

"You've lost someone recently," Thane said at last. It wasn't a question, it was a simple statement.

"Collectors took her." Shepard's voice was muted and hollow. He finished the rest of his drink in one long pull.

"Wife?"

"Sister."

"And, the Turian…?"

Shepard shot the Drell an angry look.

"Ah. I see." Thane muttered sagely.

"Keep it to yourself, ok?"

"Of course, Commander. "

Shepard glanced at the Drell, considering.

"Does that change your opinion of the mission?"

Thane straightened subtly and his eyes blurred out of focus. The Assassin looked like he as watching a vid a million miles away.

"Krios?" Shepard prompted.

The Drell returned to himself, glanced at Shepard, and smiled. It was not a warm smile, but a chesire grin that gleamed like a razor in the moonlight. It was bloody terrifying.

"I understand the mission, Commander. Vengeance is something I understand...intimately."

Shepard took a deep breath and blew it out through his nose. The calming practice eased the pressure from his chest and the tears receded from his eyes. As his vision cleared, he focused on Miranda and her sister from across the bustling transport terminal. In his mind, he repeated the last words of their conversation.

"Would it really be so bad for her to know she has a sister who loves her?"

"I guess not."

He felt rather than heard Garrus' presence just behind him to his right. Shepard muttered quietly under his breath, knowing that only the Turian's superior sense of hearing allowed him to understand the words.

"I should've contacted Maggie when I had the chance."

Garrus' throat tightened, restraining the emotional surge from his friend's confession. He didn't know what to say, so he remained quiet and just rested his three-taloned hand heavily on his friend's armored shoulder, hoping the touch was comfort enough.

"Shepard… There's something I've wanted to tell you… about why I left the Citadel…"

"What's on your mind, Garrus?"

Garrus hesitated. He couldn't bring himself to add any more pain to his friend's already heavy burdens. But, he owed Shepard the truth.

"After you died, while I was in Spectre training…"

Garrus didn't have the chance to finish. Miranda returned suddenly and entered the elevator with Garrus and Shepard. Both men politely turned away, pretending not to notice the tears in the Cerberus Operative's eyes as Oriana waved goodbye. Miranda didn't turn to look at either of them, but subtly shifted to stand nearly pressed against Shepard. The doors closed and the elevator car headed for the Normandy docking bay.

"If anyone hurt my sister, I would burn them alive in bloody hellfire," Miranda announced into the silence. She tossed her hair and met the Commander eyes. "The Collectors will never know what hit them, Shepard. I'll do whatever you need."

"Thank you, Miranda." Shepard intoned awkwardly.

Garrus and Shepard shared a quick glance behind the woman's back, then simultaneously their eyes traveled downward. If Garrus had eyebrows, they would have waggled conspiratorially.

Shepard sighed.

It was just about dinnertime when Shepard, Garrus and Miranda returned to the ship. Shepard was very aware of Miranda walking with exaggerated closeness to him. At one point, her hand even brushed over the thigh plates of his armor. It was an unwelcome distraction from his thoughts which were primarily focused on chow and rack time. Shepard was actually grateful when when Kelly Chambers cheerfully caught his attention.

Shepard nodded for Miranda and Garrus to continue without him as he stepped across the CIC to chat with the Yeoman. He noticed Miranda looking in his direction as she waited next to Garrus for the elevator. Her eyes roaming up his armor in a manner that made him acutely uncomfortable. Shepard turned his attention back to Kelly, who still hadn't stopped talking.

"There is nothing more absolute than the oath of an Asari justicar. You did well to get Samara on our side. She is so elegant and gorgeous. Too bad her manner is just so...cold."

"I didn't recruit her for her looks…" Shepard paused, noting Miranda's jealous glance his direction. Then, he added with a smile "...the Normandy already has you, Kelly."

"Oh...Shepard," the redhead responded with a giggle. "I wish there were time to get to know you better."

"Why don't you join me in my cabin for a meal? It would give us the chance to talk."

"That sounds wonderful. I've been hoping for some private time with you. Lead the way."

Shepard stepped back and motioned for Kelly to walk ahead of him with a bow and suave sweep of his arm. Together they strode over to Garrus and Miranda, still waiting for the elevator. Miranda glared daggers at Kelly.

The only thing that broke the awkward silence was the slow movement of the elevator and Garrus' barely restrained sniggering.

Shepard practically collapsed into the couch when he and Kelly finally arrived in his cabin. He kicked up his feet and lay his head back against the cool metal of the bulkhead with a sigh. He didn't even notice Kelly's immense frown at the liquor strewn mess of his quarters. She began to pick up empty bottles from the floor.

"I.. uhh.." Shepard tried to think of an excuse for the sorry state of his quarters, but Kelly waived him to silence.

"Go get cleaned up," she instructed, nearly shoving the Commander into the shower.

By the time he'd showered, changed, and dressed, Kelly had set up a pleasant meal on his coffee table complete with two glasses of wine. There was not an empty liquor bottle in sight. She greeted him, beaming, and motioned him to the couch. Shepard smiled awkwardly at the Yeoman.

"Wow...uhmm...Thank you, Kelly. I really appreciate you doing this, but I don't want to give you the wrong idea…" he began clumsily.

Miss Chambers smiled and cut him off with a wave of her hand. To his surprise, she took a seat across from him, instead of next to him on the couch.

"I understand you've had negative experiences with my profession in the past. I saw your psych reports post-Akuze. But, have you ever actually had a therapy session before?"

Shepard blinked and shook his head in mute surprise. Kelly seemed to take that gesture as a response in the negative and continued speaking, pulling out an old fashioned pen and pad of paper.

"Coping with a loss, especially the loss of a family member, is an incredibly difficult and painful process. I think you'll run out of enemies to shoot long before you find peace. If you don't open up about your grief, it will only hurt worse. I think you really just need someone to speak to, in confidence."

Shepard shifted uncomfortably, suddenly regretting the impulsive decision that led him here. He'd been looking to dissuade Miranda more than encouraging Kelly. But, when he looked up at the caring and sympathetic cast to the woman's wide green eyes, something inside him broke. She so genuinely wanted to help him. His shoulders slumped.

"Does the whole damn crew know?" he asked, frowning.

"They share your grief. Many of them have lost family on the colonies as well. She was your sister, right?"

There was a long empty silence. Kelly was good at her job, one of the best. She waited patiently as Shepard took a slow thoughtful drink of wine and a few bites of his dinner.

"…Her name was Maggie," he began slowly. "Everytime I turn around, I remember something about her. Even on missions - it's like I still can't accept that she's gone."

"Tell me about her."

Shepard did exactly that. He told Kelly about their games of "Human versus Batarian Pirate." He told her about "Rear Admiral FaceBlaster" and the bedtime stories they used to create about adventure and justice. He painted a picture of a sibling he helped raise, teach, and mold into a powerful, unstoppable, irritating, and self-reliant young woman. The kind of person who laughed and punched in equal measures and simply didn't take no for an answer.

He tried to recite the messages they'd shared every month from memory, cursing the destruction of the first Normandy for destroying the files. He grasped at words to encapsulate the sister he'd lost. The stories of Maggie's antics kept the Yeoman laughing until late into the cycle.

And, for the first time since Horizon, Shepard slept without a bottle in his hand.