HOLOCAUST
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:
DEATH TAKES THE BEST, LIFE KEEPS THE WORST
June 22, 2186
1542 hours.
Main Reception, Huerta Memorial Hospital, Shalta Ward, The Citadel.
The Reaper War.
Captain Marcus Lee Shepard.
It was like the aftermath of the Battle of the Citadel all over again. For the second time in thousands of years, the Citadel's defenses had been breached and an enemy force had made landfall.
The official siege had ended with Leng's retreat and the Council's safe extraction; unofficially, it ended the moment those UGC reinforcements came through the relay. Cerberus didn't know what hit them, and within half an hour, it had all gone wrong; their fleet had been smashed, with only a hand full of ships escaping the carnage, with most of the enemy ground forces slaughtered.
It had been little over an hour ago since the UGC confirmed that the Presidium was liberated; there were no prisoners obviously, as they did not surrender nor were they allowed to. He had heard reports of what they did to the refugee camp; the mindless executions, the segregation of human and alien, the separation of families from their children...He even found out about Conrad Verner's sacrifice, having gotten the report from Lantar Sidonis, who had been careful to tell him when Garrus was not present. No, no prisoners. Cerberus took none in the camp, and they would find no exceptions on their side.
It was simply a matter now of clearing the Shalta Ward, which would be easier considering their troop concentration in that area would be far less; however, Cerberus hadn't entirely failed. They had managed to inflict some major damage to the infrastructure of the Council, as well as hampen the UGC.
C-Sec Headquarters had taken significant damage during the assault, with numerous precincts all over damaged by well-placed charges, a keeper tunnel network destroyed, and the Commons covered in debris. The lake was cluttered with wreckage and the streets were littered with the dead, civilian and officer alike. Those bodies intermixed with Cerberus of course, but they were present nonetheless.
But then there was the leadership. Many of the C-Sec commanders were killed in the initial stages of the planned invasion, including the executor. Without an executor, C-Sec was effectively without complete leadership, something which needed fixing; he had recommended Bailey for the position, but the man had rejected, saying he had enough paperwork as it was. However, if the man told true, it would appear that a veteran turian officer in command of the Kikowani Ward, Commander Decian Chellick, was well up his way on the ranks, and was a potential candidate for the position of Executor.
And then there was the loss of the human councilor, Donnel Udina. Marcus had known him since this entire adventure of his began, right from the beginning of the Eden Prime War to the present day. He hadn't been the warmest man to work with, but it had worked, and Udina at least had a goal he stuck to. Never would he have thought that the man could have been capable of such treachery and deceit; to sell them out to Cerberus like he did. And with him dead, his death left a void in the Council that needed to be filled. At current, it was back to where it had been three years ago; Valern, Tevos and Sparatus. And with Parliament gone, they had no recommendations to base their decisions off of.
Luckily however, a solution was rapidly showing itself. It turned out there had been many human politicians on the Citadel during the time of the attack on Earth, including Shadow Minister Dominic Osoba; a wealthy man who was one of the rarer political archetypes; a man who loved politics but didn't let it get in the way of what was logical, and made sure that whatever decisions he made was best not just for humanity, but for all the races as well. He was the perfect man for the job, and just the kind this war needed. Like Winston Churchill, he was a wartime leader; not much good in peace time, but a unifier during conflict. Osoba was just the man they needed.
He tapped his foot as the elevator ascended, gazing at the door in thought. Blood stains coated the walls, but he elected to ignore them, knowing where they came from; he had been the one to pull out the dead dragoon to begin with.
However, Cerberus' attack had left an unintentional result; it had given people a wakeup call to what was happening out in the galaxy. For a whole month since the war began, the citizens of the Citadel had remained blissfully ignorant of the conflict going on around them; of the fight for survival. Sure, they had seen the odd news report, but they were on one of the safest stations in the galaxy; they could just seal up the station if they got attacked and whether out the assault. What did they have to worry about?
But now Cerberus had brought it to their doorstep; brought the death and destruction to their homes, to their families, to their playgrounds and schools. And while the civilian death toll was too much to properly account for, it showed a clear picture; the Citadel wasn't as safe as they were made to believe. As serene, beautiful, tranquil and fortified as it may have seemed, it was just as vulnerable as Sur'Kesh, as Thessia, as every other untouched world in the galaxy. The Citadel could be attacked, it could be taken, and it was by no means invincible. And now people were aware of that. Change was occurring.
The numbers of members joining private militias had doubled. C-Sec employment was suddenly going through the roof. Many reconsidered their enlistment in mercenary organizations, and others enrolled for leadership positions in embassies, or, in extreme cases, conscripted themselves into whatever government they pledged allegiance too; the number of fresh recruits for the Alliance marines had tripled; almost too much for them to deal with.
And then came the best result: the Council. It had taken three years, but he had finally forced them into action and the fruits of his labour finally began to paint a picture. The Turian Hierarchy and Volus Protectorate had declared fealty to the UGC upon the curing of the genophage, so all Sparatus could really do was thank him and reaffirm their loyalty to his cause.
But then there was Tevos and Valern. The salarian councilor not only wanted to pin him with every medal they could think of, but he had actively declared Thane a hero, thanking him personally and promising to do all in his power to ensure that Marcus got the forces he so sorely needed.
He had done more than that; he had effectively vetoed Linron's decision to pull back their forces, managed to overrule the Dalatrasi (which could only be done with a full four (three, without Udina present) votes by the entirety of the Council, as well as all the embassies) and secured the allegiance of the Salarian Union to the UGC. In the end, Marcus had gotten those fresh ships, troops and engineers after all, and even now, Kirrahe was sending whatever engineers he had to Hackett, who would have them secretly transported to the Crucible.
Then there was Tevos; never did he see her sudden change coming. She had made it clear that while she would discuss with the Asari Republics whether or not to join the UGC, their forces could not be fully utilized while the Reapers pressed down on their borders, but they would help when the Crucible was ready. Defend it to the last asari, she had said. And with that, she had effectively told him 'the asari are yours.'
In the span of a day, he had strengthened C-Sec, the militias and the people, as well as gaining the Salarian Union and, possibly, the Asari Republics. And it was all thanks to Cerberus.
Despite the grim situation, Marcus couldn't help the grin that spread across his lips, elevator coming to a stop as he stepped out and into the corridor, making a sharp right turn as he made towards the Huerta Memorial Hospital entrance.
Thanks timmy. You tried to hampen my progress, but you only acellerated it. I couldn't owe you more if I tried.
In moments he reached the entrance, taking a moment to politely nod at the two workers crouched on either side of it, moving pieces of torn metal and rubble out of the way, the door no longer existent since Cerberus blew it open. He also noticed the large, red puddle of dried blood coating the floor, a sign of the terrorists who had fallen there. Out of all the institutions around the Presidium, Huerta Memorial had put up the fiercest resistance, actually managing to hold off the Cerberus troops until UGC troops came to lift the burden and broke their line. Still, the lost door was a testament to just how much damage was done.
He stepped inside, taking note of the main reception area. More blood littered the walls and floor, dried and reeking of bitter essences, with bullet holes and scorch coating the ceiling and walls, with some of them chipped and frayed and worn by explosions. Tables and chairs that had been overturned now stood upright again, but rather haphazardly. Some didn't stand up at all; piled up in a corner due to blown off limbs or simply being too shredded to be of any use.
The room was a flurry of activity. People of numerous species rushed about the room, shouting at each other in hused or frustrated voices. Screams of agony could occassionally be heard, along with the occassional shout for 'more morphine!' or 'someone give me some help over here!' Overall, it was chaos.
Among it all, he heard the crying of children. Turning, he saw a weeping human child clutching onto a weeping turian child of the same age and height, holding each other tightly and crying, their parent nearby and arguing with an asari nurse, the woman looking increasingly anxious and stressed.
His mind sobered, the thoughts of his victory disappearing as he observed the room. How could he celebrate in a place like this? How could he when so many were suffering from the losses of spouses or families? So much suffering.
It was...it was becoming overwhelming.
Selfishly, he found himself crossing his arms, wishing for the feel of Tali's arms around him, comforting him. Mostly, it was just so he could know she was safe. But it was also because he couldn't bear to look at this any longer; it was beginning to tear him up inside.
It will only continue...
He winced, moving past with increased vigour as he closed the distance between him the decon corridor leading into the main hospital. That damnable voice was back, and now the pain in his head was much stronger, more agonizing, and far more demanding. It never gave up tormenting him. Never surrendered its constant mental assault. It invaded the deepest recesses of his mind, trying to rid him of his most basic moments of silence.
...you cannot hope to resist us...your fall will come...
He thought of Tali, of how much he missed her, how much it hurt that she wasn't here, and pondered on how hopeless his situation seemed. The more and more she didn't appear or message him, the more other thoughts began to seep in...is she dead?
...she will ascend as you will. Join her in ascension, and know absolute perfection. It is the only alternative...
No, that was only helping the voice. And despite the other half of him wanting to admit to just how logical the machine sounded, how tempting its words were, he rejected them, instead filling his mind with the happy moments he and Tali spent together before being forced to separate. Their wedding. Their sleepless nights. Their encounter before the Omega 4 Relay jump. Their talks in engineering. Learning how she loved him, and telling her how much she meant to him. Seeing her face for the first time, and finally, seeing her in that alleyway, unaware of the future they would have, of the perils that lay ahead, and how much it would change them forever.
God, he missed her. It was painful. Excruciating. It filled him with loneliness, and despite surrounding himself with friends, it would not be denied. Eventually, the loneliness would consume him, and he didn't know if he could hold off the voices when that happened...
Afterall, noone should have to fight this war alone. Not after all he's been through.
When he finally exited the decontamination chamber, he stepped out into the even busier main hospital, stepping out of the way just as the door behind him opened again, two turian doctors and a salarian rushing a trolley past with what looked to be an injured civilian with a missing arm, the asari being unconscious.
He sighed and made his approach towards Ward 14, which used to be Kaidan's room. Shoving thoughts of Tali aside, new thoughts entered his mind. Thoughts of why he was here to begin with.
Thane Krios, his friend. The man he had met in that tower just under a year ago on his mission to stop the Collectors. That calm, serene drell assassin who was deadly, yet so conflicted about his past. A man who never saw his son, lost his wife because of it, and had been mourning ever since, a slow disease killing him inside. And now Thane had achieved the apex of his existence; to use his abilities to save someone, who just happened to be Valern. There was no nobler sacrifice. They had rushed Thane to the hospital as fast as possible after Leng's finishing move, but Thane was diseased as it was, and having a blade shoved through his chest had not helped. His chances of survival were low.
He approached the door, managing to squeeze through the crowd to reach the door, turning up to tap the interface.
His hand stopped, hovering the interface. He looked off to the left, completely frozen, eyes full of pity. Then his hand dropped.
"Ca-captain," Lia spoke, the quarian leaning against the bulkhead and sniffling, arms crossed under her breasts as she regarded him, "I'm-I'm ass-uming you're h-h-here for-for Thane."
"He was a good friend, Lia," he replied, sighing heavily as he kept his eyes from watering. Don't cry, damn it. You don't get to cry. Keep those emotions for the privacy of a room. Don't let people see that your weak. Despite his heart, he held those tears back, refusing to show that kind of emotion, "I-I want to know that he'll be alright," he gulped, turning to her fully, hands hanging limp at his sides, "Your his nurse. He-he will s-survive, r-r-right?"
He watched the quarian hesitate, her hands wringing in a non-stop dance that normally would have endearingly reminded him of Tali. Instead, his heart dropped, his throat seemed to seize up and his eyes could only bore through her into the wall, everything fading out.
"I-we-we-we did what we could...for him..." she sniffed again, sighing as she peaked into the room, able to see from her angle through the glass, "But...he suffered...alot of i-i-internal damage. He's-lost alot of blood. I-it doesn't help that he's got Kepral's Syndrome; his body was deprived of-of oxygen as it w-w-w-w-was. He...Kolyat offered to be a blood donar, but...but..." she sniffed, and this time a light sob escaped her lips but she held a second back, trying to remain strong, "...he wasn't...he wasn't the right blood type. And he's the only other drell in the vicinity that we know of. We-there's nothing we can do..."
PTSD was a terrible thing, Marcus would admit. It changed people; turned them from cheery soldiers who were eager to serve into mindless husks, wrecks of a people who were forever scarred as they looked death in the eyes, but did not spit on him; but were cursed with the horror of his gaze. Shellshock was a close contender, and psychological torture was merely an extension upon it; an aggrevator, not a symptom. But there was only one thing that beat PTSD, a thing that most never recovered from.
Friendship on the battlefield was the toughest friendship in existence; that was a damn fact. When you befriended each other in the military, you swore to watch he each others back, to give them covering fire when they needed, to give their life to save you from a stray bullet or unseen frag grenade...forged in the fires of battle, friendship was eternal. And Marcus had known many friends. Only two had been more than that; and losing the first one had been the worst kind of loss imaginable.
He had lost Sarann and Nathan on Torfan. He had lost Roshia on Elysium. He had lost Martinez, Phillips, Brockfield, Tamsen, Tony, Deborah, Peter, Joshua, Daniel, Michael, John, Alexander, Steven and so many others he could remember on Akuze. He had lost Jenkins on Eden Prime. Watched as Fai Dan committed suicide on Feros to prevent the Thorian making him attack Marcus. Watched as Liara, weeping tears, put a bullet in her own mother's head on Noveria. Watched helplessly as he was forced to give the order for Ashley Williams to give her life on Virmire. He had been forced to watch Leng murder Jacob Taylor right before his eyes. He had watched as Mordin said goodbye and ascended the Shroud to give his life for the krogan, and now, he was going to have to walk into that room, and say goodbye to yet another friend. He hated goodbyes. They were finality. They marked the end of a journey.
He adhorred goodbyes.
Despite his inability to come up with words, despite the fact that he had just been told that Thane was going to die and there was nothing they could do to save him, he reached a hand out and grasped Lia's shoulder, "You should be inside. Kolyat's likely a wreck. He needs you."
She shook her head, "No, Thane is his father; a man he's about to watch die. I don't want his focus to be on me; I want his father's last moments to be with his son. I-I can at least give him that."
He smiled warmly despite the death and he brought Lia in for a hug, wrapping his arms around her, "You're a remarkable woman, Lia. Never change."
The quarian seemed startled for a moment but quickly reciprocated, but her hug was much more awkward.
And it reminded him too much of Tali. Those slim arms wrapped around his form...
He pulled away, making sure to distance himself before nodding with a huge sigh, "Thank you, Lia, for all that you've done."
"I didn't do enough," she lamented, glaring at the ground, "I couldn't save him."
"No, but you did your best," he replied, tapping the interface for the door, "Sometimes, that's more than enough."
He turned from the quarian nurse, stepping through the door and into the ward room, hearing it close behind him with a whoosh and click of mechanical hinges. His eyes were not drawn to the sterile quality of the room however; it was drawn to the two occupants.
Where Kaidan had been lying not too long ago, Thane now lay, his coat stripped from his body and wearing a patient's gown, laced the same white color as the sheet that covered him up to his chest, his right hand holding it there while his left hung at his side, chest moving up and down in steady breaths. He looked at Kolyat, who stood at his bedside with a leatherbound book hooked under one arm, talking with his father. Upon hearing the door open though, they both turned to see who entered, and Thane smiled, albeit weakly.
"Shep-ard..." the man's voice was sickly, and Marcus was horrified. The voice wasn't the usual croaky inflection that came with the drell's voice, but was wet and raspy, likely from dry flem and blood getting trapped in his oesophagus. The man was in his final moments, and it wouldn't be long before he passed away. Despite all this, Thane continued to remain awake, fighting death for as long as possible as he held his hand out, gasping, "It is...good...to...s-see...you..."
Seeing his friend like this made him depressed and he moved forward, taking the man's hand and planting it on his chest, "Its good to see you, Thane. Valern's calling you a hero."
"Is he? That is...g-ood," the drell replied, keeping his smile on his face despite his obvious pain, bringing up a hand to cough into it in harsh, ragged retorts. When he was finished, he seemed to fumble for breath, as if getting oxygen into his lungs was impossible before he steadied himself, breathing in deeply, "Although I doubt it m-m-matters. I-I am n-n-not long...for this w-orl-d, I'm afraid."
He nodded grimly, smile evaporating almost instantly, "I don't have the words, Thane. All you've done...I can't thank you enough. There is nothing I can say that could make up for all you've done for me and the Normandy."
"Y-y-you don't n-need to s-ssss-say anything," he groaned, sitting up slightly in his bed, ignoring Kolyat's protest, "But I-I do. I m-m-must thank you, for all that you have...let me do. I...I was trapped in my battle sleep w-when you found me on...Illium. Ever since...I...joined your crew...I've...I feel...I've...made...a...difference..."
He nodded, clasping the man's shoulder, "You have Thane. You've made a huge difference. Like I said, I can't thank you enough. I just wish...wish I could have fought beside you again...you don't deserve this..."
"It is, what it is," he rasped, smiling alittle as he leaned back, finally giving into Kolyat's urging, "My...time has...finally c-c-come...I can...be with Irikah...now..." Suddenly, out of nowhere, he had a long coughing fit, induced by his sudden need to laugh, "Ha...that assas-sin sho-should b-be em-embarassed. A...t-t-terminally ill...drell managed to...stop him...from reaching his..tar-g-g-get."
He grinned, chuckling lightly, sensing the drell had said it more for his sake than anything else. Then, it disappeared, replaced by a solid calm, cold fierceness entering his eyes as it always did when he spoke of the bastard, "Leng will pay, Thane. For all that he's done. For you...for you I shall end him. For you and everyone else's lives he has taken."
Thane nodded before reaching up once more and grasping Marcus' arm, pulling him down as he forced his eyes to meet his, "Shepar-d...Mar-c-cus...ther-there is some-something I must..." he was cut off by yet another of his coughing episodes, red blood trickling down his lips and across his blanket. Kolyat, clearly distressed, tried to remedy the situation but cut him off, holding a hand for him to stay. He gently, and tenderly, wiped the blood from his lips, sinking his head back into the pillow as he gazed up at the ceiling, seemingly content, "Kalahira, mistress of...inscrut-able...depths," he began, gulping down hard so as to avoid a third bout of violent coughing, "I...ask for...forgivenes-s...Kalahira, who's waves wear down stone...and s-s-sand..." He was unable to continue, covering his mouth as more blood appeared from his mouth, this time erupting into his balled fist as he coughed for five seconds violently, falling back to the pillow in what he imagined was unbelievable agony.
Then, Kolyat spoke, taking up his father's chant as he pressed his two hands together, eying Thane with a look of pure melancholy, but remained strong for his father, "Kalahira, wash the sins from this one, and set him to the distant shore of the ever vigilant spirit."
Thane, recovering from his fit, did not move his head, but he did smile, "Kolyat...you speak...a-as the p-p-priests...do..." he stated, smiling warmly the entire time, pride in his son washing over him, "You'-ve...been...spendi-ng t-t-t-time...with them."
Kolyat nodded, glancing at the book under his arm with some pride. Marcus was able to see the title inscribed on the leather cover, his translator showing the words to be 'Prayers of Rakhana and the Children of the Desert Wastes.' A drell prayer book.
Kolyat, turning from the book, turned back to Thane, smiling with a nod, "I...Lia helped me find my spiritualism. Told me that she never gave up on her ancestors, and I should not give up on the gods. She made me realize just how important it is as a drell."
Thane was silent for a moment before twisting his head to face his son, smiling slightly, "Do...d-" he coughed, "Do you...love...her, Kolyat? Is she...is she your-" he coughed again, "siha?"
Kolyat seemed surprised by the question but when he responded, it was without hesitation, "Yes father, she is. She is my siha, as I am her yol'tiya. We are committed to each other, and while I have not told her, I plan to take her as my sihaa."
Thane seemed satisfied, "Taking her to sihaa is a large...c-c-commitment...are you...r-r-ready...for it?"
Marcus' ears didn't really notice the difference in pronunciation of the words siha and sihaa. But his translator had. Thane had explained to him previously that the word siha in the drell language was a term of endearment; akin to 'my love' or 'sweetheart' in the english. Sihaa, as the translator put it, was effectively the drell translation of spouse. Kolyat was planning to take Lia as his wife. Damn...
"I am tu'fira, father," Kolyat replied pleasantly. Tu'fira meant 'lost in another', "When I see her, I feel calm serenity. She...my siha completes me. I do not believe my body is ready, but my heart is. I want to marry her, father. With your blessing. It will not be until this war is over, but when it is, I will spend my life with her."
The only response he got was a croak and a rasp. When Thane turned, he did not look at Marcus, simply staring at the door, "Tell Lia...to please...come inside...I wish...to speak...with her..."
Marcus nodded, but stopped when he saw Kolyat already moving for the door, upon it before he could even complete a full turn. The door swung open, and the drell called to his quarian girlfriend, requesting her presence.
Lia's head popped around the corner, seeming hesitant and nervous. Eventually however, upon seeing Thane, a hand landed on her vocalizer, her other moving to grasp Kolyat's free hand tightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand in reassurance. The more Marcus watched them, he couldn't believe how far the both of them had come. Lia had started out with a crush on Garrus and as a shy pilgrim. Granted, she was still the latter, but she had obviously moved past that to fallen in love with the last person he expected her too. He was happy for her.
The drell turned to her, a warm smile upon his face, "Lia'Vael...y-y-you...ar-r-r-re my son's...siha...yes?"
Lia nodded, moving forward steadily letting go of Kolyat's hand, "I am, Mr. Krios. I...I l-love him...v-v-v-very much."
"Pleas-e-e...its T-hane...to you..." he reached out his hand, beckoning for the young quarian to take it. She did so, both her hands grasping onto his and encompassing five, scaly fingers in all six of hers, glowing eyes looking into this, "And-and I-I must..." he coughed, more blood trickling from his lips, but he ignored it this time, "I...g-g-give you...my...my...blessing..."
"Blessing?" Lia frowned, looking between Kolyat and his father, "Blessing for what?"
The ex-assassin gave a low chuckle, "Ah...Kol-y-y-yat did not...t-tell you...he wi-ishes...to...to...marry you...I g-g-give my b-b-b-bless-" another round of coughs cut him off, forcing Kolyat to sum up what he said as the quarian turned to him in shock.
"He gives you his blessing to marry me," he stated, looking incredibly nervous, "He approves, Lia."
"Bu-but you...you never..." she stuttured, and Marcus could imagine her blue-tinged cheeks; a sign of quarian embarassment, "I-keelah...K-Kolyat, why didn't you tell me!"
"I was going to," he replied solemnly, looking at the ground forlornly, "But I wanted to wait until the war was over. So that when we got married...it would be a happy occassion, not one in the middle of conflict."
The quarian, to her credit, did not squeal or giggle in delight. Instead, she moved forward and wrapped her arms around his, pressing her mask into the crook of his neck, "My answer, when the time comes, is yes. I will marry you, Kolyat, my yol'tiya."
Kolyat smiled, hugging her back. Marcus could only watch Thane's face, searching for some reaction. All the drell could do was continue to smile warmly, glad that he could allow his son some happiness before he passed away.
Suddenly, there was silence, Lia pulling away from Kolyat to stand at his side, their hands grasping the other more tightly than before. They did not look at each other, gazing grimly at Thane, who continued to cough and sputter on his bed, eyes becoming half-lidded. It wouldn't be long.
"Shepard," Kolyat spoke, gaining Marcus' attention as he turned to the drell, who was now waving him over, leather book in his hands, "Will you pray with me?"
A prayer for Thane? He looked at Thane, licking his lips, before nodding, turning back to Kolyat with creased lips, "Of course," he crossed the distance between the two of them, coming to stand at Kolyat's side, hands clasped before him in mourning position. Lia stood on Kolyat's left, preparing to help read.
The drell man opened the book with unique gentleness, peeling apart the covers from the pages and slowly guiding them with tender flicks of the paper to the intended page. When reached it, he held the large book carefully, eyes flickering over the drell-written words, most of which Marcus' translator was able to put into english for him to read.
Kolyat began to speak the words, voice somber and reciteful, solemn yet beautiful, "Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention-"
Marcus took up the prayer, reading it carefully and reciting just as carefully, "Guide this one to where the traveller never tires, the lover never leaves, the hungry never starve," he glanced at Thane at that, nodding grimly before turning back to the page, hands going limp at his side, "Guide this one, Kalahira. And he will be a companion to you, as he was to me."
He could hear Lia sobbing slightly, and Kolyat closed the book, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close, letting her bury her head in his chest. Marcus sighed, frowning slightly. But his last moments were that of a hero...why pray for salvation? He turned to Thane, moving up to his side, drawing the drell's attention. He could see his eyelids getting heavy, dropping slightly as they got ever closer to embracing the darkness, "Thane, why would you pray for salvation when you gave your life to save Valern? You've already achieved salvation, and peace."
Thane nodded slightly, patting his arm, "I...have alrea-d-dy pray-ed for...for forgiv-eness...for m-m-my s-sins," he met Marcus' eyes in that moment, never leaving, "M-m-m-my prayer was-was-was for...for you..." And in those last moments, Thane's eyes finally closed shut, a final breath leaving his mouth as he fell limp. His hand fell to his chest in a heap. Marcus didn't need to hear the heart monitors continue their mindless drone to know that Thane was no longer of this world.
Thane Krios was gone.
Lia's sobs only intensified, and when he turned, he noticed tears streaking down Kolyat's cheeks, splashing onto his jacket. But he did not cry. And neither did Marcus.
That was left for his dreams at night.
...where the lover never leaves...
I will find you Tali. I promise.
{Loading...}
June 23, 2186
1400 hours.
Council Chambers, Citadel Tower, Presidium, The Citadel.
The Reaper War.
Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Major Kaidan Alenko, EDI, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, C-Sec Investigator Kolyat Krios, Nurse Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, Chief Medical Officer Karin Chakwas, Councilor Valern, Councilor Sparatus, Councilor Tevos, Councilor Dominic Osoba, Fleet Admiral of the Navy Steven Hackett, Rear Admiral Hannah Rila Shepard, Captain Phillipo Coniglione, Yeoman Kelly Chambers.
Kolyat had wanted to send his father to Kahje to be buried; to have his ashes spread among the waters of the world he was born on, and where his ashes could join that of his deceased wife's, Irikah. Marcus had agreed that, for a drell, that was the best sort of burial. But first came the burial, and Marcus wanted to be there for it.
He had informed his squad of this, but apparently the Council was already ahead on that. Only two minutes after he had told his team had Valern contacted him, telling him they had arranged a funeral for Thane Krios in the Council Chambers, where he would be honoured and then placed in a coffin ready for transport to Kahje. The whole Council would be attending, including the new human councilor, Dominic Osoba, who won the election by a large vote.
Marcus stood at the front, his back to Thane's coffin, which was currently open, the man dressed in a fine, black suit, hands clasped over his chest and eyes closed, body adorned with Ta'fila'pet fish; native to Kahje and a tradition among hanar. Four hanar stood beside the coffin, representing the people who had saved the drell from extinction. Marcus' hands were clasped behind his back, wearing the black suit of mourning.
Kolyat stood on his right, hands also clasped in a similiar black suit. Before them stood a reasonably small crowd. Garrus stood at the front with Kasumi, the turian having taken off his armor for this one occasion, showing his respect for the drell. Kasumi kept her hood, but had taken it off as etiquette required of her, her hair down along her shoulders.
Kaidan stood next to her, also wearing black attire, his hair combed and lips creased in a solemn line, paying respects to the man who had watched over and protected him for the whole month. On his immediate left stood Councilor Valern, standing apart from the rest of the Council due to the special circumstances; it had been Thane who had saved him, afterall.
The rest of the Council stood at the back with Hackett, who had chosen to attend simply out of respect for one of Marcus' comrades. Marcus' mother stood beside him, face grim. She met his eyes for a split second, but he tore his own away, not wanting to look into them because he knew what he'd find; pity. Sorrow. And he had enough of that as it was.
Infront of Hackett and Hannah but behind the front line stood Joker and Liara, the asari standing with her hands clasped infront of her, and Joker stood leaning to one side, one of the few, rare moments that you'd ever find the pilot standing. Opposite them stood the rest of the Council; Osoba was Czech in his origin, his name literally meaning 'person' in his language, as well as Russian, Ukrainian, Polish, Croatian, Bulgarian, Serbian and Slovak. The man was fairly strong in his own right; he had medium stubble around his jawline, with moderate amounts of muscle; a testament to his days in the EUMC before becoming ambassador for the human embassy. He had well-kept black hair, piercing blue eyes and rough, tanned skin, and apparently his son had been a corporal in the Alliance Army assigned to the garrison on the Benning colony. The man had been hit hard when the Reapers had invaded Benning and his son had either died or been huskified. He liked Osoba, as the man understood what it was like to be at war, yet he had a passion for politics just like Udina, just with the balls to go with it.
Kelly, Lia, Chakwas and Phillipo stood beside the Council, the former being in absolute tears, Lia giving her an arm to cry on, Chakwas could only look on sadly, watching Thane's coffin while obviously lost in her own, melancholic thoughts. Phillipo simply attended because his admiral did, not because he knew or felt anything for Thane, although he did seem abit out of place among all the emotion in the room.
Order in the room was brought quickly. When it had, and all noise in the room had died down, Marcus made for the front pedestal as Kolyat motioned, having been chosen as the lead speech giver given his position as Thane's ex-commander and also highly-valued friend. He had also been the most influential in the drell's life.
He gulped, gripping the pedestal in an iron grip as his eyes scanned the entire crowd, taking them all in before he began. So many...Thane will be remembered, I will make sure of that. The Council shall never forget what he did for them, how he gave his life for them...never forget...He didn't want to think about how he'd have to add the assassin's nameplate to the memorial wall back on the ship. He didn't want to think of what life would be like for Kolyat with both his parents gone. Only that they all stood before his friend's coffin, ready to say goodbye.
And he hated goodbyes.
He took a deep breath before he began, deciding to speak from his heart, not from a script. His voice boomed throughout the council chambers, echoing throughout its halls, "We are brought here today to honor the life of Thane Krios. Assassin, friend, and hero," he looked back down at the ground, trying to think of what to say next. It was a gruelling process, to think of words to put to the man's deeds. An almost impossible task. But Marcus wasn't known for being a professional diplomat for nothing.
He looked back up, meeting everyone's eyes as his moved over them, "Thane...he touched each of our lives in different ways," he smiled slightly at that, remembering all the conversations they had back on the Normandy in life support. Memories, nostalgia...even relationship advice...
He motioned a hand to Valern, "Councilor Valern, knew him as a hero. For preserving his life, even though he didn't have to." The salarian gave a crisp nod, acknowledging Marcus' statement, lips set in a thin line.
"My crew..." he trailed off, gulping as he continued, taking an even deeper breath, "...my crew knew him as a brother in arms. And others..." he twisted to face Kolyat, jawline clenching slightly before it loosened, "...as a father. Devoted to his son, even if his son didn't know that."
He didn't wait to see Kolyat's reaction to that statement, simply turning as he continued to address the crowd, "Although his life took him to very dark places, Thane cared for the better angels of our nature," he felt his grip become painfully tight around the pedestal and relieved it, confused at why he was so tense. I hate goodbyes. I always have, "Even when he was terminally-ill, he ran through war torn streets to reach me...because he knew I needed help. That my squad needed help," he almost lost control right there, sniffing slightly to satisfy his urge to weep openly.
He noticed a movement in his squad, showing that they understood just what he had meant, and that they felt the same that he did. He even watched a tear move down Kasumi's cheek, although her face remained blank and she did not sob. Maybe she was just growing numb to it all. He didn't know if that was good, or bad. Kelly just kept crying, although her weeping was alot quieter, remaining respectful of the speech.
He felt a rage burn in him as he remembered just who murdered Thane, and he looked up, hands gripping the pedestal again, "You all know the results of that day..." he breathed more heavily this time, as if it was a precious commodity, "...Thane was killed by Kai Leng, an agent of Cerberus, an assassin. He was fallen by the same blade meant for Councilor Valern."
Anger brissled in Garrus, from what Marcus could see, and he saw Joker sneer. The pilot had been pissed off by the damage done to the Normandy when they had finally towed her into dock to be repaired, which would take a week at most, but the disgust that crossed his face in that moment made that look like nothing. Even Kasumi seemed to tense, a fire burning in her eyes. Liara glowed briefly, remembering the encounter.
"An assassin," Marcus spoke again, raising everyone's attention once more, "A professional criminal, gave his life for the galaxy, for his friends, for his people, and for one person. There is no greater sacrifice. However," he raised a hand, signalling he had something else to say, "I say, that we should not mourn. We should not weep. We should not be angry. We must be happy. For reality is a terrible thing, and Thane Krios is in a better place now. He can finally rest in peace." At that, he threw a glance at the quiet body of the assassin, smiling warmly at it.
"...where the lover never leaves..."
Irikah's waiting for you, Thane. I hope you found her.
He sighed, blinking to clear his watery eyes before he looked back up, "Would...would anyone like to speak?"
There was silence for a few moments. Noone said anything; not a single hand was raised. Noone stepped forward, not a voice spoke up. He was left wondering whether these people had nothing to say in Thane's name, or if they-
Suddenly, there was a loud chuckle. All eyes landed on Garrus in that instant, glaring at him. How could he be laughing at a time like this. After a bit however, the turian stopped chuckling, managing to speak, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Ha, I remember this...this one time where I was training in the shuttle bay, just before we took on the Collectors. The crew had been taken, and we were rushing to assault the base when he approached me and asked me what I was doing. I said 'I'm imagining that I'm killing off collectors.' Then he said, 'A collector fights back. The bulkhead does not.' I asked him what he knew of it, and he simply replied 'I've been chasing bulkheads all my life. Only recently have I begun fighting collectors.' I didn't know what he meant back then, but now I do," he grunted, meeting Kolyat's eyes, "Innocents don't fight back. It was only when he met your mother that he started targetting the bad people. The scum. Your father realized what he had done, and went to rectify it. Very few people can do that, Kolyat. You should be proud of your father, and remember him as the good man that he was."
Kolyat nodded, smiling slightly, "Thank you, Mr. Vakarian. You're...you're very kind."
Kasumi took up the space Garrus left, smiling alittle herself as she perked up, regaining some of her cheerfulness, "There was this one time I tried to sneak up on him; the usual, really. I make a grand entrance, scare the bejezus out of them, and then make like the wind and pretend I didn't do it. But like Shep, he seemed to have this 'cloaking sense'," that roused a light chuckle from Marcus, and he even heard a few laughs in the background, "One time, I sneaked up on him, and then just before I decloaked he said 'You have tried this many times before, but unlike others, I know what to expect.' And when I asked him how he knew I was there, he said 'he could smell my pheromones!' Well, that was the last time I tried to sneak up on him!"
"Or during his first time on the Normandy, when he practically glared at me when I made a oral joke," Joker piped up, gaining a few odd looks. He shrugged, quick to justify himself, "Well, apparently drell can't have you...you know...with humans because the oral contact causes hallucinations in levos! All I did was make a joke about having to warn Shepard about it, and the next thing I know, I feel like another assassination target."
One by one, the stories fell upon the room, people trading tales of their own dealings with Thane during their time on the Normandy or not. Eventually, they got to Kolyat, who seemed to have an awful lot to say.
"When I was reunited with my father after my first assassination attempt, I only felt anger, loneliness and distress," the drell admitted, holding his book close to his chest, "I felt contempt, mostly. Contempt for my father, who I felt had abandoned me. I blamed him for my mother's death. I hated him for never being there for me, or playing with me or doing all the things, I felt, a father should have done. But when he explained just what he had done...how he had avenged Irikah's murderers...I realized I was wrong. My father wasn't a monster. He wasn't a terrible father. He wasn't the man I made him out to be. He loved me, but he just never got the time to really show me that. And in that moment, I realized I loved him too," he turned to Marcus, smiling, "Me and my father spent alot of time together after he left the Normandy. We even travelled to Kahje, to see my mum's resting place. We even travelled to Earth. We were going to visit Shepard, but the Alliance wouldn't let us; and it was about that time my father almost had a seizure, and that's how he ended up at the hospital."
"When it comes down to it, I remember my father for doing what he believed was right, not because he wasn't there for me," he concluded, "In the end, I loved him, and he loved me, and that's all that matters. And as the captain said, he died a hero. I couldn't be more proud to have had such a dad. I'm going to miss him, I'm sure alot of us will, but he is with the infinite spirit now. Kalahira will tend to his needs, and he shall never be alone now; for he is with mum."
"Amen," he whispered under his breath, not wanting anyone to hear it. Everyone else responded in their own way; Liara prayed for the goddess to look after him, and Garrus hoped the spirits guided him. They all offered their own prayers and then eventually, the moment came. The closing of the ceremony. None of them could attend it, much to Marcus' chagrin; they would not watch his ashes scattered amongst Kahje's vast oceans. He was couped up here on the Citadel, with a war to win. Can't even attend my own friend's burial.
So instead, they would all move up to the coffin and say their personal goodbyes; a final farewell to the devoted father, hero and companion. They all lined up, Marcus taking the back, wanting to be the only one left in the chamber when it was all over. Kolyat was at the front, Lia's arm wrapped under his in a sign of comfort. Kolyat began speaking just as Hannah appeared at his side, examining his face.
"You going to be okay, Mark?" she asked, looking more than just concerned, "You look terrible."
"My friend just died, mum," he deadpanned, meeting her eyes, "I'm the very definition of terrible. The last few days have been a nightmare."
She nodded, grasping at his shoulder, "I won't be able to stay for long; I've got to head out soon; back to the Crucible project. But if you need me...I can stay for awhile."
He shook his head, reaching up to kiss her on the cheek, "Its okay mum, I'll be fine. It'll...I've got a week to recover as the Normandy took a real beating, and I've got a few things that need wrapping up before we leave. I'll be okay; besides, you have your duties, I have mine. We can't have any softies."
"I know, I know, but..." she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, "I worry about you. I heard about what happened to Lieutenant Taylor, and Professor Solus. I know you're hurting; you can't just pretend it isn't happening," suddenly, her eyes glazed over him, "And then there's your wife..."
"I don't want to talk about Tali, mum," he stated firmly, voice hinting at slight irritation. Anything but her, "I've accepted the likelihood that I could be fighting this war without her; I'm fine with that. What needs to be done will be done. I just...I need some space. To get my head over it."
"Mark..."
"Mum, stop," he growled, glaring at her, "I don't need to be coddled like a child. I'll handle this in my own way. I just need you to get off my back."
She seemed startled by his slight outburst but nodded despite that, turning away from him with a nod, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm just concerned."
His features warmed, and he gave her a quick hug, despite their attire, "Its alright, mum. We're going to win this, and then, and only then, will I mourn properly. But winning this war must be a priority."
She nodded, pulling away from him, but not after kissing his forehead, "I love you, Mark."
"I love you too, mum," he replied, smiling slightly before giving her another peck on the cheek before she broke off and walked away, beckoned over by Hackett. He turned back to the line, and it steadily began to lessen in size until he stood before it, all alone, looking down upon it. He braced against the timber, holding onto the edge with an iron grip, sighing as he bit back his emotions. He could feel his squad waiting for him; Garrus', Kasumi's and Liara's eyes all on his back, evaluating him.
He simply stood there, lost for words as time faded away, replaced by a feeling of emptiness as he just scanned over Thane's cold cadaver, before landing on his face. Those calm, cool eyes. So peaceful and tranquil, a testament to his new life in the eternity of the afterlife. He didn't know if it truly existed anymore but he believed that it if it did, Thane would be there, smiling down upon him with Irikah at his side. And Mordin and Jacob and Ashley would be up there with them.
He hated goodbyes, he truly did. They were a finality; a conclusion. The end to a long journey, to companionship. They symbolized death in all its entirety, and they ache they provided in one's heart was truly crippling. But when it came down to it, Marcus realized, goodbyes were a necessity. All things ended, as was the cycle of life, and nothing was perputual. Just as the Reapers' cycle of destruction would end in this war, Thane's life had ended; it wasn't you dying that mattered, it was how you died that defined you. He remembered a famous saying in that moment, helping complete his epiphany.
Its never about the destination. The journey is what truly counts.
Yes, he would remember Thane for all their deeds and time together. The battles they fought, the lessons learnt, the blood spilled. Their comraderie was forged in fire, and he had come to know Thane as one of his closest friends. So he chose not to ponder on Thane's death, but rather to celebrate his life, and what he had been before his spirit finally left the word.
He hated goodbyes, but they all always came around eventually.
He pivoted so he faced Thane side on, taking the phalanx strapped to his hip and placing it firmly between the drell's fingers. He had found Thane's weapon and emptied the clip, leaving it empty; the safety was turned on, rendering it useless. Yet it had always been the drell's weapon of choice, and he believed he would have wanted to be buried with it.
Oh, how he hated goodbyes. But right there and then? It was alot easier.
It always got easier.
"Goodbye Thane," he chuckled grimly, "I'll see you at the bar; save a seat for me. I'm paying, on the house."
And with that, he turned around, walking towards his squad as they prepared to march into the future, and tackle whatever stood in their way.
Because that's how Thane would have done it.
"I've always hated that I wasn't able to attend the funeral. It pained me that so many of my friends were dying while I was stuck fighting a stupid, hopeless war."
- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"I still remember Thane fondly, and although I didn't get him in the afterlife, I'm sure I'll be able to soon. But hey, Thane still lives on; we did name our firstborn after him..."
- Marcus Shepard.
"Well, Wrex had taken Mordin and Brynn had named her child in honor of Jacob, so..."
- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"So what occurred next?"
- Reia'Inas pav Earth.
"A reunion; forged in the fires of battle. Not quite the romantic greeting I had hoped, but there you have it."
- Marcus Shepard.
A/N:
Goddamn it Marcus, stop hinting at stuff that's not going to happen for another two chapters! Damn you!
Next chapter is almost entirely different perspectives. I've got one at the start planned for Kaidan, one for Anderson, one for Coats (and the first) and quite a significant segment for Tali. Also, to alleviate any confusion, the events of the Second Morning War occur in July, not June, with the official battle taking place a week after the Citadel Siege just to make sure the plot is inline and consistent. Wouldn't make sense for the Migrant Fleet to send a help, and Shepard appear...like...a week later. Pretty sure the Fleet would be gone by then.
Also, contrary to popular belief, I'm not dragging the reunion between our two lovebirds out. There's just some kinks I need to work out, some plot threads to resolve and a few characters to milk story out of before we get there. Its only two chapters guys; I'm sure you'll live.
Also, as a side note, the Quarian/Geth arc won't be quite as long as I'd hoped. If I follow my storyboard, it'll be a maximum of 5-6 chapters at most, with two of those being a two parter Rannoch, which could turn into three parts, given how I've written lately (Coup D'etat and Name of a Hero were meant to be two parters, but ended up being three parters due to their enormous length). That includes the Admiralty Board meeting, the Geth Dreadnought mission, both Rannoch side quests (Rescue Koris and the geth consensus), Rannoch itself and then the aftermath.
The Geth Consensus mission will be very interesting and will contribute more to the story than you think. It draws alot of similiarities to a certain story that I'm not going to mention, because you might go over and read said section and spoil it for yourself (actually, the similiarity is so boulbous that it might as well be plagiarism), however, I will be doing my aftermath of said ordeal quite differently. And given that Marcus has a son, things are going to get quite interesting.
Oh fuck, I've done it again. I've taken up most of the thing with author's notes.
Better leave before I continue.
Keelah Se'lai, troopers!