When the chime rang at the Vakarian home, Cadmus made his way to the front door to open it himself. Not too long ago, a civil servant would have done so, but both Cadmus and Laelia agreed to let go most of the servants when he arrived home. The costs of Laelia's treatments as detailed by Dr. Tayan would be dear. They decided they didn't need servants. Cadmus was capable of handling the house himself. They had only retained a chauffer and a maid; Laelia's parents, devastated by their daughter's illness, had also hired a personal nurse for her. Laelia's parents came to the house often. Cadmus dreaded their visits. He certainly couldn't begrudge them visiting their daughter, but they left Laelia in a morose frame of mind every time. Instead of inspiring Laelia to fight the Syndrome, they acted as if she was already on death's door and would go any minute, her mother hardly holding it together. Anytime they visited Cadmus made sure to spend extra time with Laelia to bolster her mood.
Cadmus was glad Laelia had consented to lean on him so much these last several months. When he'd shown up home, she had balked at his decision to leave the Citadel; he purposefully hadn't told her he was resigning, certain she would try and make him stay. He'd informed her that his retirement was already final, shutting down any opportunity for protest. Then he'd sworn that she was all that mattered to him now, his life as a C-Sec officer permanently behind him. She had fallen into his arms then and he'd perceived how grateful she actually was for his sudden appearance. She didn't say it, but he intuited that she'd wanted him there all along but her staunch loyalty had forbidden her to voice her desire.
Cadmus opened the front door to find Solana and Arrian in the entryway. Solana had come by often since her mother's diagnosis, providing Laelia with the female companionship Cadmus couldn't give her. Arrian visited as well, though not as frequently as his wife.
"Good morning, dad," Solana greeted her father, gripping wrists quickly, then passing into the foyer.
"Sir," Arrian said, sharing a wrist grip as well and following Solana. Cadmus noticed Arrian carried a traveling bag.
"Your mother's on the porch," Cadmus told Solana.
"I'll go see her," Solana said. She shared a sideways glance with Arrian, then sauntered towards the back of the house.
Cadmus gestured to the parlor, but Arrian waved a hand. "I don't have time to sit and talk, though I wish I could."
Cadmus pointed to Arrian's bag. "Traveling for work?"
Arrian nodded. "Only for a short time. Actually, a trip to the Citadel. I'm meeting up with a drell scholar."
Cadmus cocked his head. "A drell?" Arrian's area of expertise was specifically turian history, not the galactic past.
"Yes. I think you know that the hanar employ many drell as assassins."
Cadmus nodded. He recalled his one personal encounter with a drell, the child who had been shadowing an assassin to learn his skill. That was twenty-four years ago. He wondered briefly if the young drell had escaped his fate or if he'd become the assassin the hanar wanted.
"Well, we found this letter in the archives. Its wording seems to indicate that there was some interaction between a drell assassin and turian generals about 180 years ago. Of course, the drell have only been part of the galaxy extensively for approximately 200 years. So how did a drell assassin and turian generals contact each other? And why? It might be obscure history, but it's interesting nonetheless."
Cadmus smiled inside. It would be interesting, but he didn't see anything so compelling that it was worth going to the Citadel. He certainly wasn't a historian. He would have read such a letter and set it aside. But Arrian was to history as he was to security: neither of them could let a puzzle rest until it was solved.
"Anyway, we found a drell who says he knows about it and he agreed to meet with me in person. He's unwilling to communicate over comm."
"Sounds interesting," Cadmus said, wanting to support Arrian and not honest enough to voice how unimportant he thought the letter.
Arrian smiled and Cadmus guessed he had read his thoughts. "The reason I came by with Solana is I want her to stay here while I'm gone, give her time with her mother. She doesn't need to be home alone."
Over the past few months, Cadmus had come to truly appreciate Arrian Sophus in his daughter's life. He was a good turian through and through. Now again, he recognized Arrian's foresight and thoughtfulness. "It's a wise idea."
"It's what should be done, sir," Arrian replied. "I am sorry for all that your wife is going through."
Cadmus' mandibles flexed. "I am, too."
"Whatever we can do…"
"You have already offered and I will let you know."
Arrian's mandibles flapped. "Of course. Now, I must say good-bye to Sol. I need to drive to the port."
Cadmus let Arrian pass him and then followed several meters behind, stopping to observe his family through the back windows. Laelia sat on the porch, a data pad in her lap. She had taken up reading as an intense hobby these days. Dr. Tayan said keeping her mind active could aid in slowing down the Syndrome. Really, if someone had met Laelia for the first time, he would hardly guess anything was wrong with her, not by her interaction anyway. She answered questions a little slower, had to think between words at times, but this could easily be perceived as careful consideration, not the fact that she was working to connect her brain to her tongue. What did give her away was what Cadmus gazed at now: braces on Laelia's legs. She hadn't lost control of them completely, but enough that she hadn't avoided a few painful spills. The braces stabilized her, preventing any further falls. Cadmus hated those braces, not for their help, but for what they represented. They were a constant reminder that all was not well for his wife.
Solana sat next to Laelia, talking with her. When Arrian stepped onto the porch, Solana stood and embraced him. They were always open with their affection. Cadmus watched as they shared a kiss and then Arrian spoke for a time to Laelia. Eventually he moved back into the house. Cadmus met him on the way.
"Take good care of my wife, sir," Arrian said, smiling.
Cadmus smiled back. "Certainly. Tell Garrus we remember him here."
"I will." Cadmus took a step towards the door, but was halted by Arrian who held up a hand. "You don't have to escort me. Go enjoy time your wife and daughter." He ambled on, heading to the entry way, his father-in-law watching him with respect and admiration.
Two weeks passed in relative ease. Cadmus basked in the delight of having both his wife and daughter at home. He appreciated Solana's help in keeping up with her mother's treatments. It wasn't difficult to care for Laelia, but a break was welcome. Solana drove Laelia to the hospital a couple times and Cadmus knew Laelia relished the time with her. It strengthened Laelia's spirits to share mother-daughter time.
Cadmus didn't regret leaving the Citadel. Every day he saw his wife walk carefully through their home aided by the braces he knew this was where he was meant to be. Even so, he couldn't escape the boredom of his current circumstances. For years he had plied himself to puzzles, his mind constantly challenged. A week or so at home and he had begun to go stir crazy. He needed an avenue of escape and therefore approached some security officers, friends still on the force that he'd worked with years before. They had graciously added him to their duty rosters as an officer emeritus—he offered advice on local crime and cases as needed. For this reason, when Garrus called his sister, Cadmus was sitting in his office at his computer, contemplating a difficult murder case. His friends thought he might catch something they had missed.
Solana had been away all day. Even though she had been staying with them, it wasn't a vacation for her. She still had internship duties. She'd been told that when she finished interning a job opening would be available. Arrian had already joined the Cipritine scholarium in the architecture department so he and Solana wouldn't be separated even by work.
As Cadmus perused an autopsy report and glanced back and forth at crime scene photos, he heard the front door swish open. He looked up curiously. Few had the code to their home and none were due to show up at this hour. The maid and chauffer had the day off and the nurse would stop by in the evening. Stunted footsteps sounded in the hall and a small, shaking voice called out.
"Mom? Dad?" It was Solana. Cadmus didn't know why she was here. She'd told them she wouldn't be back until late.
"In the office," Cadmus called out. Solana came into view. Her eyes were moist, her mandibles drooped. Cadmus stood. "Are you alright?"
Solana locked eyes with him and Cadmus' skin tingled with fear, sensing in them an empty void. "Arrian's dead."
Cadmus' heart dropped. "What?" he asked incredulously.
"Garrus called. He's bringing Arrian home. He was shot."
Cadmus swallowed hard. "How?"
"He went on a call with Garrus. Some krogan…I don't know," Solana abruptly turned and hurried away, calling out, "I need to see mom."
Cadmus didn't move, frozen in shock. Arrian had died on a call with Garrus? Why was Arrian even with Garrus? Civilians weren't allowed to go on calls. Shock began to give way to wrath. Cadmus could guess what had happened. Garrus had brought Arrian along, heedless of the rules, wanting to show off for his brother-in-law and he'd gotten Arrian killed. His recklessness had finally and devastatingly caught up with him and Cadmus assumed he was no longer C-Sec, fired and disgraced and up for court martial…but that couldn't be right. They wouldn't let Garrus leave the Citadel if he was at fault, but surely he was. Wasn't he?
Cadmus walked in a daze down the hall to Laelia's bedroom and waited outside, his back to the wall. After a few minutes time, Solana appeared. She began to walk away, but paused when she saw Cadmus standing there. Their eyes met and Solana quickly looked away.
"How is she?"
Solana, eyes diverted, whispered, "I told her, then I insisted she take her medication. She's sleeping now."
Solana made to pass by, but Cadmus spoke again. "Solana, you…"
Solana snapped her head to him and practically shouted, "I'm going out."
Cadmus let her walk away without another word. Nothing he could say would stem the burning hurt in her soul. Even when he'd started to speak, he hadn't been sure he could say anything worth saying. Solana disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall. Cadmus subconsciously put his hand to his chin, trying to think objectively and failing. Back on the Citadel, Cadmus had thought Laelia's diagnosis the worst that could happen to the Vakarian family, but he had been wrong. It was even worse to watch your daughter being destroyed from the inside…and to know her brother was responsible.
Mechanically, Cadmus quietly slipped into Laelia's room. He didn't know what else to do. Instinctively he knew Solana needed to be alone so he didn't chase her down. But he suddenly felt a desire to look on his wife and be near her.
Laelia was asleep as Solana had said. Cadmus settled into a chair next to her bed and observed her still form. He assumed Solana had given her a medication to relax her—such news as this would have caused Laelia terrible distress. He wondered if Laelia had spoken comfort to her daughter or if she'd simply held her. Laelia would have dealt better than him with Solana's pain.
Cadmus found himself gazing across the room at a blank light blue wall. This wasn't the way things were supposed to happen. He was supposed to grieve the loss of a spouse way before his daughter. Anger flared up again in his mind. What had Garrus been thinking, taking Arrian on a call and a dangerous one at that? How could that ever make sense to him? Cadmus didn't know how long he spent contemplating Garrus' fatal error and Solana's deep grief. However long, a quiet voice eventually broke his pensiveness.
"Cadmus? Cadmus…"
Cadmus turned his head to the bed. Laelia was trying to sit up. Cadmus held out his hand to help her push back against the wall for support. After he did so, Laelia continued to grasp his hand tightly and looked him straight in the eyes. Her own blue depths reflected profound sorrow.
"Don't make assumptions. You don't know for certain what happened."
Cadmus' stomach clenched. Laelia had always seen through him. She'd accurately guessed at his thoughts as she had on many occasions. He knew how much she loved her son. Even so, he didn't like how she dared to excuse their son.
"I know enough," Cadmus muttered.
Laelia sighed and quietly objected. "You know only one fact…you don't know the details."
"Do you know the details? What did Solana tell you to expunge her brother's part in this?"
Laelia let Cadmus' hand go and folded hers in her lap. "She only knows Garrus took Arrian on a call and he died, killed by a krogan. That's all. She cut the transmission before he could tell her more."
That sounded like Solana. Cadmus wasn't surprised that she'd cut Garrus off.
Laelia had let go of Cadmus' hand, but hadn't shifted her direct gaze. A pleading had overlaid the grief in her eyes. "I may not think as well as I used to," she said slowly, "but I do know that you shouldn't make a judgment until you know everything…That's what a detective as successful as my husband would do anyway."
Cadmus broke his gaze with Laelia, looking back at the wall. Yes, he knew one fact—Arrian had been on a call with Garrus, but that was enough for him to charge Garrus guilty. There was no excuse for Arrian being on a call no matter what Garrus said.
Laelia let out a soft breath of air. Cadmus heard a rustle of sheets and then her hand was squeezing his arm. "Being angry isn't going to help our children. This could destroy them both, Solana and Garrus. For me, Cadmus…Will you hear him out first for me?"
Cadmus turned his eyes back to his begging wife. He swallowed the anger in his throat. His eyes flickered downwards to the braces Laelia wore on her legs. Even with them she struggled to walk these days. She thought slower at times as well, but her wisdom was still sound. He knew what she was saying was right. He was just trying to make his emotions give into it. Her appeal to herself pushed him in the correct direction. "I'll ask him to tell me in detail first…for your sake."
The days awaiting Garrus' arrival crawled by. Even with cases to draw his attention, Cadmus couldn't keep his thoughts away from the tragedy of the Vakarian family—and the Sophuses. He'd contacted Arrian's family to offer his condolences and received a thankful reply. As much as he mourned Arrian, he couldn't imagine what Arrian's parents were facing, the loss of a child who shouldn't have left them before their own deaths. Granted, turians handled death with less spectacle than other races. Turians didn't wail and lament in public. It was said a dead turian wouldn't want those he left behind to bemoan his fate. A true turian would expect those close to him to carry on in order to leave him a legacy of strength.
Typically, Cadmus followed the norms no matter his personal feelings. He didn't shed a tear for Arrian, but spoke of his accomplishments when anyone inquired. Solana, on the other hand, wasn't fairing well. She'd begun to neglect her internship, spending more of her time sequestered inside her own home or visiting theirs to sit by Laelia's bedside for hours on end. Her public face was calm, detached, but her bitter grief exposed itself in private—her replies came sharp and stilted and her eyes were often misted.
As for Garrus, Cadmus had sent him multiple messages, but had only received one short reply—I will explain in person. Cadmus had also contacted Venari by e-mail. Venari, too, replied with no elaboration: I do not intend to comment on family matters. You must rely on Garrus for information. It is the best course of action. These messages frustrated Cadmus. He had nothing to go on and was forced to wait for his son to show up and make his excuses. He didn't like being at the mercy of Garrus whom he considered to have a bias in the whole affair.
So it was that Cadmus found himself at a spaceport along with the Sophuses with no answers, but plenty assumptions. All the way to the port he'd repeatedly reminded himself he'd promised Laelia he'd give Garrus a chance to explain—for whatever that was worth. Solana didn't come with him. She hadn't left her home for two days now. She'd donned dark blue, the appropriate color for mourning, representative of shed turian blood, a symbol of loss, but also of power. She would wait at home to receive Arrian's body and proceed with preparations for his funeral. Laelia had departed with the nurse to join her daughter at the same time Cadmus left for the spaceport.
The ship from C-Sec landed and after several passengers disembarked, the cargo hold was opened and a silver oblong casket was escorted down its ramp and directed to the Sophus family. Cadmus stood at attention as it passed in front of him. He spied Garrus at the top of the ramp, far enough away that Cadmus couldn't read anything in his gaze. The Sophuses took possession of the casket and carried it away. Cadmus waited for his son.
Garrus, dressed in C-Sec armor shined to the hilt, slowly descended the ramp, his travel bag in hand. He paused at the end of the ramp and fixed his gaze on Cadmus. Cadmus saw pain in those blue-gray eyes, pain and…guilt? Cadmus said nothing, not trusting himself to keep his promise if he spoke first. He simply gestured for Garrus to follow him and walked back to the speeder, the plodding footfalls of his son behind him.
Cadmus had driven to the port himself. He didn't want anyone else to be privy to his conversation with Garrus. This was a private matter. He took the driver's seat and Garrus settled into the passenger's seat. He pulled out and headed to Solana's home. For several miles, neither father nor son spoke. The tension was palpable. Finally, Garrus broke the silence.
"I assume you want the details as your messages demanded."
Cadmus tightened his jaw and nodded.
Garrus stared out the window. "I'd like Sol to be present."
Cadmus looked sideways at his son. He wanted Garrus to spill his guts now, but Garrus' sense of protocol was all too appropriate. The rest of the drive was made in silence. By the time they reached Solana's modern home, the Sophuses had arrived and gone. The casket had been left under a canopy in the side yard. Cadmus had always found the turian way of approaching death commendable. They weren't afraid of it. They displayed it for all to see.
Cadmus pulled into the drive and then he and Garrus entered the house. Laelia met them at the door, having seen them drive up, her turian nurse at her side. She embraced Garrus and spoke gently into his ear. Cadmus held back. He didn't know what she told him, but Garrus' eyes softened and he blinked rapidly. Laelia led them with halting steps into the living room where Solana sat bolt upright in a chair. She gazed out the window at the casket under the canopy. Laelia settled onto the couch and waved her nurse away. The nurse left the room. Garrus sat next to his mother. Cadmus chose a chair slightly apart from the gathering. He had decided it best to observe and not speak for the time being.
Garrus cleared his throat. "Sol…I'm sorry," he started. Solana didn't react. She continued to stare out the window as if she hadn't heard a word. Garrus looked to his mother who put a hand on his shoulder and nodded, encouraging him to go on. "Sol…You deserve to know what happened." Garrus wrung his hands and looked down at his knees, Cadmus assumed reliving the events that had transpired. "Arrian and I met up for lunch. Somehow we got talking about C-Sec. He said he was interested in how it worked, what it looked like from the inside. He asked if he could shadow me…"
Cadmus narrowed his eyes at Garrus. Was he blaming his brother-in-law for this?
Garrus' eyes briefly flashed over to Cadmus, then to Solana, then back to his knees. "I said he should ask my superior."
Cadmus' mandibles closed taut against his jaw. Garrus should have told Arrian "no."
Garrus continued. "My chief allowed him to come on my next call, an arrest of the leader of a gang of krogan. We went in, but were attacked on the way. All hell broke loose. I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but he was shot…Sol, I got the krogan who killed him. He's dead."
Solana hadn't moved an inch the entire time Garrus spoke. She didn't move now.
Garrus looked at Cadmus again. "My superior's been relieved of duty." Cadmus hid his emotion. Did Garrus think that made everything better? Even now, Cadmus recognized that Pallin had made the correct "turian" decision—Garrus' chief was directly responsible, not Garrus. He had authorized Arrian to go on the call. But that didn't change the fact that Garrus should have said something.
Garrus rolled his eyes back over to his sister. His voice came out in a whisper. "I blame myself, Sol. I'm so sorry."
Solana suddenly stood, turned on her heel and faced Garrus. "You've explained. You can go now." She marched quickly past the couch, out of the living room and down the hall to her bedroom. Cadmus heard the door open and shut.
Silence reigned for several moments, but Laelia eventually reached out and squeezed Garrus' hand. "I think it best you go home. I'll stay a little longer."
Garrus rose and Cadmus followed suit, but Garrus looked over at him. "I'll walk home. See you later." He left alone. Cadmus looked down at Laelia.
"It's not his fault, Cadmus," Laelia said firmly.
"He said he blames himself," Cadmus pointed out.
"Of course he does!" Laelia exclaimed. "He would. He takes everything that goes wrong on his shoulders, even things he doesn't have to. He always has. I don't know why you've never seen it."
Cadmus bristled, but didn't respond.
Laelia sighed. "I don't want to argue with you. This isn't the time to do so. He's hurt just as much as Solana. Just know that."
Cadmus reached down to pat his wife's shoulder, then walked to the door to head home. She was probably right. Garrus was hurting. But in Cadmus' estimation, it was hurt deserved.
When Cadmus arrived home, Garrus wasn't there. Of course, Cadmus had taken the speeder and so reached the house long before his son would. Alone in the house, Cadmus didn't know what to do with himself. He'd experienced the loss of officers on the Citadel over the years, though none on his personal teams. His parents and Laelia's were still living. He'd never faced a loss like this before, someone so close to his family. Actually, he hadn't known Arrian well, hardly at all, still he had appreciated what the turian meant for Solana. Cadmus felt an emptiness he couldn't explain, compounded by bitter disappointment and betrayal aimed at Garrus.
Cadmus forwent his computer, instead climbing the stairs to the combat room. He paced himself through the stances of several different combat styles, trying to focus his mind away from his emotions for a brief while. He concentrated only on the stances, feeling his muscles tighten and release with ease. Garrus kept popping into his mind unbidden. A tumult of lectures coursed through Cadmus' mind, how he would inform Garrus of his disappointment, censure his reckless actions, and deride his luck that Pallin had "let him off the hook." After a long time, the front door opened and Cadmus broke off, his mind a whirl with words. He marched into the hall and down the stairs, intending to give Garrus a sound piece of his mind, but when he reached the bottom he saw only Laelia.
Laelia stared at him. "Are you alright?"
Cadmus took several deep breaths. "Practicing combat."
"Oh." Laelia sighed heavily. "I need to lie down."
Cadmus knew this day, this week, had been too much for her. Her thought capacity had been drained and she desperately needed mental rejuvenation. Cadmus held onto her arm and helped her walk to her room. The stairs had become so difficult, Cadmus had insisted that the downstairs guest room be modified for Laelia's purposes. As he helped her into bed, Laelia laid back and closed her eyes, but spoke a command quite forcefully, albeit stuntingly.
"When Garrus comes home…send him to me."
Cadmus knew what she was trying to do—get him to herself so Cadmus didn't have the chance to light into him all at once. She also knew he wouldn't refuse her, not in her state. "I will," Cadmus acquiesced as he quietly left the bedroom.
But Garrus didn't come home. Evening faded into night, night stretched into day and still, he didn't return. Laelia began to worry and Cadmus was considering contacting security friends when a message showed up on his omni-tool.
Mom, Dad, I should have sent this last night. I forgot. I'm trekking. Don't look for me until the funeral. I'm alright. Garrus.
Cadmus shared the message with Laelia who was relieved that Garrus was okay, but anxious what his staying away meant. Cadmus knew what it meant. It meant Garrus was scouring his conscience, forcing himself to face facts. It meant he'd gone to the mountains like he had as a child, seeking solitude and a wilderness that brought a turian to the end of himself where nothing but truth was left. At least, that was what Cadmus hoped it meant. The only other option was that Garrus was a coward, afraid to own up, running away and refusing to acknowledge the truth like a man.
Turian funerals were quickly carried out, the dead not allowed to linger for long. Two days after Arrian's corpse arrived on planet, it was set on its bier. In that time, friends arrived, friends of Arrian and his family, friends of Solana. Cadmus' mother sent her regrets. She no longer lived on Palaven. Cadmus' father had long ago been transferred to another colony and as always, his elder brother followed. His sister still traversed the galaxy on various archaeological missions. With Cadmus on the Citadel, his mother had felt little tied her to Palaven and she followed her husband off world. For this reason, none of his immediate family could be present, which didn't surprise or bother Cadmus.
Cadmus and Laelia descended on Solana's home early in the day to help with preparations. At least, Laelia helped. Cadmus found his skills ill suited to the needs of the day. He spent most of the time hiding away and tapping on his tool out of sight of Arrian's parents. He wasn't sure how they viewed the Vakarian family now. They had been cordial even in their grief, but one never knew what brewed under the surface. He didn't want to be an added source of pain for them.
By late evening, those who had come to honor Arrian's life gathered around the bier dressed in dark blue with heads bowed in silence. Garrus still hadn't appeared. Cadmus had begun to worry he wouldn't come at all, that he'd add insult to injury by staying away from his brother-in-law's funeral. When the time had come to escort Solana and Arrian's family outside, Cadmus stood by his daughter's side. Just as when Garrus had spoken to her, she remained completely detached as if she wasn't even present, her spirit fleeing her body, unable to endure the blow she had been dealt. Her vacant eyes pierced Cadmus' heart. And yet, she held her head high and exited to the front lawn. Cadmus expected her to continue on to the bier, but she stopped after a few steps, her head swiveling slightly to the right. Then she turned back and walked resolutely on.
Cadmus, curious as to what had drawn Solana's attention, glanced as he passed. Garrus stood to the side of the walkway. He looked haggard and run down, eyes weary. He wore appropriate clothing, a dark blue suit, but it fit him loosely. Cadmus guessed his time in the wilderness had been spent without food and possibly without water. Laelia gently pushed her nurse away when she reached Garrus. She gripped his arm and pulled him to her side, forcing him to aid her. He fell into step with the rest of the group. Cadmus noticed that Arrian's parents didn't even acknowledge Garrus' presence.
Guests parted for the family of the deceased who joined them in the solemn circle. Then, as if on cue, the guests began to speak, not all it once, but one by one and each uttering not more than a single word. Each word called aloud was chosen by the guest to summarize Arrian's life. Cadmus listened intently, hearing with pride words like "duty," "dignity," "wisdom," "verity," "concord" and "forethought." After the guests, the family spoke. Cadmus called out "reverence" at his turn, Garrus "serenity." The last to speak was Solana. There were a few seconds of silence and then Solana's voice, strong yet hushed, uttered "love." Cadmus observed a ripple of movement from the crowd. "Love" was a word most likely none of them had heard at a funeral. It was too personal, too transparent. A spouse might say "faithful" or "gentle," even "caring," but not "love." Of course, turian spouses at times loved each other, but love was considered a private matter. Still, Cadmus felt Solana's declaration suitable. She and Arrian had always been open in their affection. Why would that change at Arrian's funeral?
After the statements of life, Solana and Arrian's parents and siblings walked to a blazing torch that stood to the left of the bier. From the ground they picked up small, cylindrical tubes filled with oil. Each in turn they lit their tubes, then circled close to the bier. The flaming light illuminated Arrian's corpse for all to see. He seemed to lay in repose, only asleep. Indeed, the blue sheet that draped him made it seem he simply slept on a strange bed of kindling. Arrian's father thrust his tube into the wooden shafts supporting his son's body. Then his mother and siblings followed suit, ending with Solana. In only moments, Arrian's body was being consumed, licked by the flames pushing upwards to the night sky and dancing hectically to a strong breeze.
Then the singing began, heavy and deep at first, yet rising with every word. The crowd lifted up their voices, harmonizing the turian imperial anthem, "Die for the Cause." The song was supposed to cause the melding of the deceased with the turian spirits of long past. Of course, this was only legend, not a fact as far as Cadmus believed. As the song ended, loud and triumphant, Cadmus stared across the burning pyre at Solana. His muscles tensed. She had returned to her body. He knew by her eyes she was present, but he didn't have words for what he saw there, sorrow and anguish far beyond anything he would ever be able to describe.
Three days after the funeral, Cadmus awoke early morning to find his omni-tool vibrating. He yawned, picked it up and read the message.
I want to talk to you when you wake up. Laelia.
Cadmus dragged himself out of bed. Even though it wouldn't have scarred anyone to see Cadmus in his pajamas, he dutifully refreshed and dressed in a dark green suit before answering Laelia's summons. He proceeded downstairs, stopped by the kitchen to cut up some fruit for her, then made his way to her bedroom. The door opened immediately as he reached it. Laelia was sitting up in bed, her head turned away from the door, staring out the window at the rising sun. When she heard the door, she looked his way. Cadmus approached and handed her the bowl of fruit before sitting in the chair next to the bed.
Laelia stabbed one of the hard pieces with a talon and put it in her mouth. After she swallowed, she said quietly, "Thank you."
Cadmus, who had silently watched her eat, echoed her low tone. "You don't have to thank me when I do things for you all the time. It's what I should do."
Laelia's eyes rose to his face. "All the same, I'm grateful." She leaned back against the wall and ate a couple more pieces before saying, "You sacrificed your career for me. There isn't a day I don't remember that."
Cadmus sighed. He reached out a hand and set it on her knee. "It's not a sacrifice. I don't want to be anywhere else than with you now."
Laelia placed her hand on top of Cadmus', then looked him straight in the eye. "I don't want them to hate each other. They aren't going to have a relationship left if we don't intervene."
Cadmus pulled his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. Of course, Laelia meant Garrus and Solana. Two days had passed and they hadn't said a word to each other but that didn't mean they hadn't communicated; their behavior spoke volumes. Garrus obviously wanted, and presumably needed, Solana's forgiveness. Solana cut him with daggers thrown from her eyes and refused to engage him in any kind of conversation. Cadmus thought the situation might have been better if Solana had stayed in her own home, but she'd abandoned it. She didn't have the funds to keep the house, not with her internship a non-paying position. Cadmus had offered to pay for it entirely so she could own it outright, but she had declined saying they didn't know how much money they would need for Laelia's treatments over the years. So Solana had shut the house down and moved back to her childhood home. Garrus still had a week of leave left and thus the two siblings existed in a state of constant tension under one roof.
"I don't know that it's our place to interfere," Cadmus said.
Laelia's eyes hardened. "We're their parents. I don't care if they are adults. They still must listen to us, to you."
Cadmus tightened his mandibles. He didn't relish the idea of trying to reconcile his children. It wasn't that he didn't want them to get along; he just didn't trust himself to interact well with them. He had promised Laelia he'd listen to Garrus. He did. But his opinion hadn't changed and it had taken all his self-control not to launch into a tirade against his son for her sake.
"Cadmus, please," Laelia pleaded. "I don't know how long I have left. I don't want to die with my children like this." Laelia's eyes had misted and Cadmus' heart thumped. Her obvious distress quickened his heart. He stood.
"I'll talk to them."
"Thank you."
Cadmus leaned down, ran a gentle hand over Laelia's left mandible and exited the room, seeking his children, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.
Cadmus sat behind his desk in his office facing his two children occupying seats across from him. Solana looked to the side, seemingly intently interested in an antique turian vase next to the desk. Garrus, to her left, sat stock still, his head bowed. Cadmus had asked them to follow him and they had. He'd asked them to sit and they'd obeyed, but every acquiescence to his commands was carried out in stony silence.
Cadmus let out a noisy breath. "I wanted to talk to you both about your mother."
Garrus looked up. "Is she worse?"
Cadmus placed his hands on the desk, linking his talons. "It's not her health. It's her worries." Cadmus looked to his daughter and spoke as tenderly as he could. "Solana, your mother is devastated by your loss as am I. You shouldn't have had to face this for a long time." Garrus shifted slightly in his seat. Cadmus went on. "You still have a duty to Arrian." At the mention of her deceased husband's name, Solana turned her head to her father, eyes cold. "From what I knew of him, he wouldn't approve you hating your brother."
"I never said I hated Garrus." Solana's voice was tensely soft.
Cadmus' mandibles flared. "You've never needed to say how you felt. Your mannerisms have always given you away."
Solana clenched her jaw and tapped her foot on the floor.
"The point is, your mother isn't well and you are both contributing to her distressed mental state. She's not going to rest until she senses resolution between you two."
"Sol…" Garrus spoke. "Sol, I don't know what to say to you."
Solana stopped tapping her foot and jerked her head over to Garrus. "There isn't anything you can say. I don't want your apologies or excuses. I don't want to hear your voice ever again."
"Solana!" Cadmus reprimanded, his voice intense, but not sharp.
Solana snapped her head to her father. She breathed in and out quickly and looked back to Garrus. "But I suppose I have no choice, so fine, I'll be civil to you, Garrus. We'll talk about the weather and music and sports and mom. I'll do it for our mother, but not for you." Solana abruptly stood and exited the room, even when Cadmus called after her.
Cadmus looked to his son and Garrus met his eyes. Cadmus spoke firmly. "This is where your thinking leads you. You've always complained that the rules get in the way. What about this one? Did breaking it get you what you wanted?"
Garrus blinked his eyes once, then let out a low breath. "I expected you to say something earlier than this. It must have been killing you to keep it in for so long."
Disrespect laced Garrus' tone. Cadmus tightened his jaw. "You think this is the time to challenge me?"
Garrus shook his head. "I'm not trying to attack you, dad. I've just been waiting for you to pronounce me irresponsible and rash."
"Aren't you?"
Garrus lowered his eyes. "I didn't authorize Arrian to come along."
Cadmus guffawed. "But you let him. You didn't say anything against it."
Garrus spoke without looking up. "Arrian was so eager to see C-Sec. He went on and on about studying its origins, how he wanted to see it up close. I just…I didn't want to disappoint him."
"You just wanted to kill him," Cadmus came back sarcastically.
Garrus lifted his head, his eyes hard. "You know I didn't want that. Yes, I knew the rule. That's why I told Arrian to go up the chain of command."
"He went because you told him to."
Garrus let out a harsh breath. "I suggested it. I didn't tell him to."
Cadmus growled deeply in his throat. "All you have are excuses."
Garrus suddenly slapped his right palm against his thigh. "So what do you want, dad? Do you want me to follow all the rules or obey my superiors? Which is it? Because in this case you can't have it both ways."
Cadmus ground his teeth. In hindsight, the answer was obvious: follow the rules. But turians were expected to follow their superiors without question. "To disobey is to dishonor" as the phrase went. Cadmus said nothing, momentarily stumped. Garrus' eyes lit up in triumph. He knew his father had no satisfactory answer.
"It doesn't matter how you answer," Garrus said. "You're doomed either way. I've been in C-Sec long enough to figure that out."
At the mention of C-Sec, Cadmus felt his muscles tense up in anger. "So you think C-Sec is useless, is that it?"
Garrus sighed. "It's not useless, but it could be more effective, stop letting criminals slip away because it's afraid to get a nosebleed now and then."
"And was Arrian a nosebleed?" Cadmus came back angrily.
Garrus tilted his head. "What? No, that's not what I meant. I was thinking of a case, a doctor…never mind. The fact is, dad, that if C-Sec had done its job, arrested the krogan when we first had him, all this could have been avoided. We let him go—not enough evidence to satisfy the higher ups."
Cadmus felt his jaw ache he'd been clenching his teeth so tightly. "If you hadn't let Arrian go along in the first place, he'd be alive."
Garrus swallowed and stood, ignoring Cadmus' statement and looking his father straight in the eye. "I'm leaving tonight. I got my leave shortened. It's better for Solana. She doesn't need me here right now. I'm going to go see mom and head to the port. Bye, dad."
Cadmus watched his son exit the room, then slumped in his seat. He felt drained of all energy, his mind a jumble of conflicted emotions and thoughts. But over it all was the same barely controlled rage, the feeling that he'd raised a son incapable of doing the right thing.
Cadmus rolled into bed at the end of a long day. With Garrus out of the house, the tension was eased, though not non-existent. There was still Solana, in grief in her room, either alone or with Laelia by her side. She'd emerged in the evening, not to eat, but to inform Cadmus that she'd given up her internship. He'd balked and tried to talk her out of it, but her stubbornness rose to the surface, even sharper on top of her grief. She wouldn't listen to reason and insisted that she had nothing left, that she didn't want a job at the scholarium, not when Arrian couldn't be there, too. She'd decided she'd stay home and be Laelia's nurse. Her mother needed her and she'd walk by her side every step of the way.
Cadmus stared into the darkness of the room. In less than a year, the Vakarian family had self-destructed and what angered him most was he couldn't fix it. There was nothing he could possibly do to right it. He couldn't reach into Laelia's body and heal it and he couldn't bring Arrian back to life. The shambles that was his family would remain so and Cadmus didn't know how to handle that.
He'd gratefully slipped into bed, wanting to escape the turmoil of his thoughts for a blessed seven hours of sleep. He hadn't closed his eyes but a few minutes and his tool vibrated. He groaned, but grabbed it. It might be Laelia. It wasn't. A video message had come in for him—from Viator. Cadmus tapped to play. Viator appeared on the screen and the jerky flapping of his mandibles made it clear he wasn't happy.
"Cadmus, I decided to send this by video rather than call you because I didn't want any interruptions and I know you would argue me. I've always respected you, you know that, and I've never said much about how you handle things, let you be you. Well, I had to say something this time.
"Garrus is on his way home early. He called me. I can't believe you let him go like that. And before you think he's run and tattled on you, he didn't say much, but by his demeanor I know you must have let him have it. Well, I know what happened and he's innocent. He did what he should have, but you've got him convinced he's responsible. He can't ever be enough for you, can he? He was grief-stricken when Arrian died. Did he tell you that Arrian died in his arms? He was desperately trying to get to a medical center. Did you even think about what that did to him? He had to feel Arrian go limp in his arms, watch him swallow blood and know that Solana's love had died in front of his eyes. How do you think he feels? Guilty and he's not."
Viator had been speaking faster and louder the longer the video went on. "All you're doing, Cadmus, is heaping the guilt on him. You could have shown him at least a little compassion, couldn't you? You're all duty, but let me tell you, duty and honor without grace will kill a person, stifle him into nothing. I'm amazed Garrus hasn't broken, that he's even coming back to C-Sec with what you've done. He's got resilience I don't even have. He's so committed to justice, to saving the innocent, he won't let even you get to him. He's trying, trying to be the best he can here and you could encourage that even a little."
Viator took a shaky breath, then shook two fingers at the camera. "If you aren't careful, you're going to lose him for good, Cadmus. You push him away and he might never come back." The video ended.
Cadmus' lungs ached as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Who was Viator to tell him anything about his son? He hadn't even raised a turian child. He had no idea what he was talking about. Didn't he understand that someone had to hold Garrus accountable? If it wasn't going to be Venari or Viator, then it had to be his father.
Cadmus slammed his tool down on the bedside stand and rolled over in the sheets. He closed his eyes, shutting out Laelia's illness, Solana's grief, Garrus' failure. But try as he might, he couldn't shut out Viator's righteous voice screaming in the depths of his soul. He fought it for hours and eventually sleep overcame his disquiet. In the morning, he would rise and convince himself that nothing Viator had said had been rational, that Viator's video message was a typical emotional outburst, something easily discounted in the face of insurmountable evidence to the contrary.
