Cadmus heard the Primarch's ardent voice drifting out the door and down the hall. He stalled when he reached the entrance to the Mehrkuri living room, not sure if Decimus would appreciate his presence. He surreptitiously peeked around the door frame. Decimus stood rigidly in front of a viewing screen. The Primarch was front and center on the screen, speaking with all the weight of her authority.

"We cannot allow our enemy's evil to defeat us. We will not descend into chaos amidst mourning and reconstruction. We must champion the standard of order and tradition. We must act knowing our actions have consequences so that our basest natures come under our command in these days more than ever before."

The Primarch stepped back, revealing a turian kneeling behind her surrounded on three sides by guards. She gestured to the prisoner. "Aiolus Mehrkuri, first and only escapee from Zafur Helasia, has trampled on justice and made a mockery of communal service. He has sullied the name of Tridend across the galaxy. We will not disgrace our pride and duty as he has done, abandoning that which makes us turian."

The Primarch nodded to the turian on Aiolus' right. The guard hauled him to his feet and hustled him backwards against a wall. The Primarch doesn't waste time, Cadmus mused, recalling their meeting only yesterday…


Four days had passed since the Reapers self-destructed on Tridend and still no word from the wider galaxy. The Mass Relay had been damaged and comm buoys were down. Communication across Tridend had been maintained by emergency generators and towers. Tridend turians devoted themselves to the clean up of their colony as they waited to hear news from outside their system.

Cadmus, Solana and the refugees from Palaven bided their time in Brigid's mine, waiting for a more permanent place to be found for them. Brigid was eager to get them out of her space. Decimus had put in an immediate call to Primarch Bantius after the destruction of Reaper forces both to advocate on behalf of the refugees and to inform her that Aiolus was on Tridend. The Primarch had managed to carve time out of her schedule to deal with Aiolus personally.

Cadmus accompanied Decimus in a company speeder from the mine. Aiolus had been shackled in the back, sullen and silent. They'd arranged a meeting place only a few miles from the mine. The Primarch was waiting for them when they arrived, standing at attention in front of her personal ship, several guards at her back. Cadmus knew they were taking no chances with a prisoner that had been on the run for thirteen years.

Cadmus glanced at Decimus as the speeder slowed. His friend's expression was grim, not a hint of victory. Had he been his former self, Cadmus thought, his eyes would have shined at the fact that he had brought Aiolus home and not the Task Force. But Decimus had changed too much for thoughts of triumph. His vindication was coming at the cost of a brother.

Decimus parked the speeder several meters from the Primarch and exited along with Cadmus. Decimus opened the back door and gripped his brother by the upper arm, yanking him out of the speeder. Cadmus paced next to Decimus as they approached the Primarch and heard Decimus mutter, "It didn't have to be this way."

Aiolus' stoic exterior dissolved. "You didn't have to bring me to the Primarch," he returned snidely.

Decimus halted and swung his brother around, pushing his face into his. "What did you think would happen when you escaped? That they'd give up looking for you?"

Aiolus swallowed, and his gaze faltered.

"You never thought anything out in your life, did you?" Decimus questioned. "Never asked yourself why you were doing any of it."

"I don't have to explain myself to you!" Aiolus snapped.

Decimus heaved a sigh. "You'll have to explain yourself to her." He gestured towards the Primarch.

"Then throw me at her feet so I'll be out of your cowl," Aiolus growled.

Decimus' mandible collapsed into his jaw. "I was never trying to get rid of you," he murmured. "I was trying to guide you. You chose to ignore me."

Aiolus' eyes constricted at his brother's defeated tone. "You should have let me live my own life," he mumbled just as quietly.

Decimus sighed again and turned Aiolus back around, resuming his march to the Primarch. "You never earned the right to."

Cadmus looked ahead at Primarch Bantius. He felt sorry for his old chief. Life had been hard on him, as hard as his own had been. The Primarch gripped wrists with Decimus when he stopped in front of her and nodded at his wound. "How did you lose it?" she asked, her tone deep and professional.

"Fighting on Palaven," Decimus said.

The Primarch's eyes shifted to Aiolus who stared back arrogantly. "You've given us far too much trouble," she declared. She looked back to Decimus. "I received your file detailing his crimes since escape. You have done a service to Tridend and to the galaxy."

Decimus nodded once, acknowledging her praise.

The Primarch gestured to the guards behind her. Two took hold of Aiolus, directing him to the ship, another marched behind. The Primarch looked pointedly at Decimus. "This is a difficult time for Tridend. I suspect the war with the Reapers has ended galaxy-wide. The destruction that has been wrought on our people physically and mentally will need to be repaired. I have already convened the supreme tribunal. Your brother will be the perfect impetus for expressing our commitment to decorum. He will be an example of law in a time of disorder."

Decimus' mandible tightened into his jaw. "I humbly submit to my Primarch."

The Primarch bowed her head to him respectfully, then turned and strode towards the ship's landing ramp, followed by her bodyguards. As her ship's engines came to life, Decimus turned, stalking back towards the speeder. Cadmus walked beside him, glancing back when the ship took off and watching it climb into the sky. He felt as if a burden had been lifted. Aiolus Mehrkuri was just where he should be—in the hands of the law.

Decimus slid heavily into the speeder and Cadmus lowered himself down next to him. Decimus didn't start the engine and Cadmus glanced at him. His visage was troubled. He stared out blankly at the desert wastes. After a time, he turned to Cadmus. "She's decided to kill him."

Cadmus pressed his lips together and traced the path the Primarch's ship had taken into the sky as Decimus revved the engine and headed back to the mine. He'd thought Aiolus' life was likely forfeit when the Primarch mentioned she'd gathered the supreme tribunal. To the leaders of Tridend, Aiolus was an opportunity to demonstrate the ultimate triumph of turian justice…


Cadmus watched as the guards lined up in front of Aiolus and drew their guns. To Aiolus' credit, he stood tall, eyes straight ahead. The Primarch spoke again. "Aiolus Mehrkuri, you stand convicted of circumvention of punishment, vehicular assault, drug trafficking, monetary gain through the sale of persons, theft and piracy. The depths of your crimes demand the farthest reach of the law. You have cast off the name of Tridend and in return we cast you out of our midst." The Primarch waited a few seconds, perhaps to see if Aiolus would speak, but he didn't even flick a mandible. The Primarch gave the order to fire. In less than a second, Aiolus' body hit the ground, lifeless. The Primarch stepped back up to the camera.

"In this time of reconstruction, let us hold ourselves to our ideals, to our commitment to justice, to our duty, the way of our people. The Hierarchy will rise from the dust. Tridend will be its strength. For Tridend!" She punched a salute to the camera and then the feed changed, a turian report taking its place, commentating on the Primarch's speech and the subsequent execution.

Decimus tapped the side of the screen, turning it off. Cadmus hesitated to enter the room, not wanting to disturb his friend's solitude as he stood with shoulders slumped in front of the screen. A voice spoke out of Cadmus' sight and he recognized Nissa.

"Decimus?" her question came out softly, a tender tone he had never heard her use.

Decimus didn't respond. He'd placed a hand on his chin, eyes locked on the screen. Nissa came into view. She stepped in front of her mate and cradled the sides of his face. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Decimus dropped his hand and encircled her waist with his arms. "I've wondered what would have happened if mother had put him in a cabal instead of hiding his biotics. He would have been with others like him."

Nissa slid her arms around Decimus and laid her head on his chest as he enveloped her. "Second guessing his life won't help," she spoke quietly.

Decimus closed his eyes, resting his chin on the top of Nissa's head. "I've lost them both now."

Nissa's embrace tightened and the couple went silent. Cadmus pulled back from the door, retreating back down the hall. He shouldn't be intruding on such a private moment. His own personal feelings regarding Aiolus were mixed. On the one hand, Aiolus had received what his actions deserved. Yes, he'd been confronted by circumstances, but his choices were his own and they had drastic consequences. On the other hand, the Primarch had used his execution to send a message of the unyielding control the Hierarchy still exerted over turian space. Cadmus understood she meant it as a show of strength in light of the Reapers' power, but he wondered if another death wasn't counterproductive. Casualty lists were still coming in and for the state to add to the number of turians lost…It didn't seem entirely right. Cadmus also grieved for Decimus. He'd just watched his last brother die. A partial military casualty list had been released last night. Vidori had been on it. The Mehrkuri siblings had now been reduced by two.

A gaggle of voices drifted down the hall from the living quarters as Cadmus approached. Since Vidori had passed on, Decimus was the eldest Mehrkuri and as such owner of his family home. He had opened it to refugees. Brigid hadn't protested. Despite her opinion of her brother, he held complete legal right to the property and she wouldn't challenge the law.

Cadmus made his way to the bedroom he shared with six other turians including Solana. He lingered outside the door when he heard his daughter speaking in a measured manner—reading, he realized.

"The mountains had descended, the seas awash in blood. Stars fell from the sky and darkness covered three. The cry of the innocent arose, vicious curses passed on the cruel. 'Unending might and swift justice!' they shouted, the doom of the enemy. Barefaced reptiles dwindled, defeated utterly. Victory at any cost, victory whole and swift."

"What does it mean?" a child's small voice questioned.

"It's about the Krogan Rebellions. You know about that time?" Solana asked.

"We studied it in school," the child responded.

"It's a poem from that time. Three turian colonies had been devastated. Krogan destroyed them using asteroids."

"They shouldn't have done that," the little voice spoke angrily.

"No, they shouldn't, because that was all it took for our ancestors to bring them to the edge of extinction. Krogan underestimated the turian commitment to defeating an enemy completely. That's what this poem is telling us."

"Then…" the child paused. "Then, why did the krogan come to Palaven?"

Solana answered quietly. "The Rebellions were a long time ago. Now we needed krogan help."

"The genophage?"

"You know about it?"

"My dad said we cured it. He said that was foolish. Was it?"

"I don't know," Solana replied honestly. "But krogan saved my life."

"And that's good."

Cadmus heard a soft chuckle from his daughter. "Yes. That's good." Cadmus felt a pang of pity. Solana would have made a wonderful mother. When she interacted with children, she reflected the caring and protective nature of her mother. Cadmus stepped into the room. Only Solana and a male child were present, perched on the edge of a bed. Solana held a paper journal in her hand. The child jumped up and nervously addressed Cadmus.

"Commander," he greeted.

Few children had been in their refugee party, only six in total. He recognized the child, though he had not spoken with him personally. "And you are?"

"Atilius Vespus, sir."

"Atilius Vespus, I would like to talk to my daughter."

"Okay. I'll go." The child made his way to the door, but suddenly twisted back, a look of terror on his face. "I mean, I'll go, sir." Cadmus felt both amused and chagrined by the look. He must appear some larger than life authority to this child and he had obviously been brought up to respect authority without fault. It was a good trait, but Cadmus didn't like it coupled with fear. The child looked as if he thought Cadmus would strike him down for a simple omission. Had Garrus ever looked that way? Cadmus wondered. I wouldn't have noticed.

Cadmus lowered his mandibles, indicating no harm done. "I understood. You may go."

The child darted into the hall and pattered away. Cadmus set his attention on his daughter who stared at him solemnly.

"Is he dead?" she asked.

"He is," Cadmus confirmed, walking over and sitting down next to her.

"Another enemy defeated," she whispered. Her gloved hand caressed the page of the book she'd been reading from.

"Mehrkuri library?" Cadmus inquired. Solana nodded. Years ago, Cadmus had been flabbergasted by the fact that Decimus had handwritten a copy of the Citadel laws. If he'd seen the Mehrkuri family library, he wouldn't have been surprised. The Mehrkuris had gathered antique books from any bit of history they had personal involvement in. The book Solana was holding had to be over a thousand years old. Solana wore special gloves to protect it.

"Captain Mehrkuri gave me permission to peruse it."

Cadmus marveled at the book. "I can't believe it's still intact."

Solana stared reverently at the material in her hands. "They've kept it well protected and restored. It's beautiful."

Cadmus glanced at the text. "Ancient dialect."

Solana smiled. "It's nice to use my study again." Her smiled faded and she met her father with sad eyes. "I suppose I won't be using it again for a long time."

Cadmus flexed his mandibles. The state Palaven was in, probably not, but… "We will always need those who remind us of our history."

"But who will care when Palaven is so destroyed? Even if anyone survived there, they won't spend money and time on recovering artifacts. They'll be desperate for food and medicine and shelter, not books."

Cadmus pointed to the book. "Our ancestors faced destruction and prevailed. They did not lose an appreciation of history and we won't either. We need it now more than ever, Solana, to remind us that we do not give in."

Solana's eyes dropped to the page again and she spoke downheartedly. "Our victory may have been whole, but it was not swift. I fear we have lost too much." She looked back at Cadmus, eyes dull. "How can we be what we once were?"

"We'll overcome," Cadmus spoke, infusing all the confidence he could muster into his voice. "We're turian. That's what we do."

Solana bowed her head, not answering. Solana's despondency chafed at Cadmus, not because he thought she shouldn't feel that way, but because he felt exactly the same.


Cadmus climbed into bed exhausted. It had been another long and busy day, but he didn't mind. The busyness kept his mind occupied and his body so tired he'd slept deeply these last six days. He scanned the room before shutting his eyes, confirming that the other five occupants were present and asleep. He'd continued his role as the refugees' commander, imposing order in an uncertain time. He insisted that they maintain a curfew, share in the workings of the Mehrkuri home and dine at regular intervals.

Cadmus sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly and drifted gratefully into a comforting darkness. He came to abruptly after an unknown interval of time, a soft moaning to his right waking him. He pulled himself up, running a hand over his face, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Moonlight streamed in from the window, providing quite a bit of light. He skimmed the room. No one stirred and the sound had ceased. Cadmus was about to lay back down when a sharp intake of breath emanated from Solana's bed. He peered over at her. She seemed to be asleep, but her cowl trembled. Cadmus rose from his bed. He kneeled down next to her and put a hand on her cowl. The trembling stopped.

"Solana?" he asked. She'd been pushing herself as hard as he had despite her broken leg still on the mend, aiding him in procuring food and supplies. Imports had come to a virtual halt during the war and every colony had imposed rationing restrictions. Tridend was in a good position, however. Its independence reached even to its food supply. All things considered, they had ended up on the best turian colony for refugees. Even so, the Mehrkuris had no cultivation or flocks of their own, so Solana had spearheaded the gathering of what was needed. She also made herself responsible for the refugees' mental needs. She encouraged them to entertain themselves, thinking up games and activities, especially for the children. Most of the refugees had started calling her "Mother Sol." But even as she pretended to be a solid rock in front of the refugees, Cadmus noted her worn eyes each night as she climbed into bed.

"I'm fine," Solana breathed out, but she trembled again.

Cadmus couldn't see her face, but she was clearly lying. "I'll get medication."

"No," Solana whispered harshly. "I don't need it. It was just…a dream, that's all."

Cadmus bowed his head, understanding. He had suffered many in the past few weeks. He recognized the embarrassment in Solana's tone. They were supposed to be stalwart turians like the ones of legend who faced disaster without a shred of emotion. Cadmus removed his hand from her cowl. He didn't want to make her more embarrassed by treating her like a child.

"We were back on Palaven," Solana mumbled.

Cadmus stared at her back. He hadn't expected her to relate her dream.

"Mom and grandmother were dead. I was looking for you. I tried to call Garrus, but he didn't answer. Gone like always."

Cadmus heard the bitter tone in her voice. Her emotions concerning her brother vacillated between worrying over him and resenting him.

"I found you. You were barely alive. And then you died. And I was alone."

Cadmus swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He laid his hand back on her cowl. "I am alive and I am here and I am not leaving you."

"I know," Solana spoke quietly. "It's just a foolish dream. It's not even worth talking about." She pulled away from him.

Cadmus rose from the floor and stepped back over to his own bed, rolling onto it. In a few minutes, he heard soft breathing emanating from Solana's bed. Sleep peacefully, my daughter. Sleep eluded Cadmus. He stared at the ceiling for a good long time, thinking about his home planet. Ever since the destruction of the Reapers he had felt a growing urge to return to Palaven. It might be a wasteland, but it was still home. There had to be thousands there in need of help. Underneath his worry over Palaven was constant unease over Garrus. Where had his son been when this weapon was deployed? Had he been in the thick of battle? If so, Cadmus knew his chance of survival was slim. It was quite possible he and Solana were the only Vakarians left in the galaxy.


Two days later, Cadmus made his daily morning round, checking on his refugees' needs. The list was so short, Solana insisted on going into town by herself. Cadmus suspected she wanted some time alone and he let her have it, but this meant he had no task and didn't know what to do with himself. He eventually ended up outside, leaning against a wall beside the Mehrkuri backdoor, observing a game of clawball the children and a few adults had engaged in. Cadmus blinked his eyes against the heat of the morning sun. Cadmus had always thought Palaven was bright, but Tridend was brighter by far.

"Next time you go into town, you should pick up a suit."

Cadmus glanced at Nissa who had stepped outside and stood on the other side of the doorway. He considered the brown suit he was wearing, another one of Decimus' that was too big for him.

"I'm not going to waste funds on a suit," Cadmus replied, flexing his mandibles.

"They're giving them away in the city center," Nissa said, folding her arms over her chest.

Cadmus didn't answer, simply turned his attention back to the clawball game.

"Too prideful to accept it?" Nissa asked.

Cadmus turned irritably back to her. "No."

"Then why not get one?"

"Others need it more than me," Cadmus snapped. He was a turian commander. He could make do.

Nissa twisted her lips. "Sorry."

Cadmus nodded his head once to her.

Nissa let out a short breath. "I'm always letting my mouth get ahead of me," she muttered.

Cadmus couldn't help but smile slightly.

"But that doesn't mean I don't know you, Cadmus Vakarian."

Cadmus' mandibles retracted.

"You gave yourself away in the drinking game."

Cadmus raised his brow plates at the mention of their run-in his first year in C-Sec.

"You feel even if you act like you don't."

Cadmus turned his gaze back to the game. Why in the world Nissa had decided to have some kind of revealing one on one was beyond him, but he wouldn't participate.

"All this is killing you inside."

Cadmus clenched his jaw, not responding. Nissa was doing what she'd always done best—pushing and needling.

"Just admit it."

Cadmus staunchly stared at the game.

"Oh, come on. If you're not prideful, then you'll acknowledge it to yourself."

I already have. Cadmus looked angrily back at her. "Go away," he commanded.

Nissa grinned. "Right. I don't want to bother you. I want to help my husband and by doing so, I might help you, too."

Cadmus cocked his head.

"Ah, so now I have your attention. Mehrkuris have a basement and all it contains is a rifle range. So go check it out." Nissa walked farther out in the yard, yelling out to the players to ask if she could join in their game. Cadmus contemplated. A shooting range, huh? Well, it wouldn't hurt to take a look.


Cadmus heard an electric pinging once he found the stairs down to the Mehrkuri basement. It was dark and chill in contrast to the blazing Tridend sun. When Cadmus reached the bottom step, he paused to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The range wasn't that large, a room with six close lanes and targets at the end about sixteen meters away. The targets glowed, outlined in a soft white against a black background. Decimus occupied the slot to the far right, a sniper rifle held aloft. His shots were perfectly placed.

Cadmus approached the slot parallel to his friend and saw a rifle lying on a shelf. It was an oldie with glowing stripes along its sides, modified to project electric blasts. The pinging stopped and Cadmus rolled his eyes to Decimus who was gazing on him. "How'd you find this?"

"Nissa told me you had a range," Cadmus replied.

Decimus snorted.

"I've never seen a range like this. It's so dark."

"My father's invention," Decimus explained. "Wanted his children to know how to shoot in the dark and the light."

"Why not practice outside?"

Decimus chuckled. "We did sometimes, but we trained every day of our lives until we went to the mines. Three sessions a day and this room let us train in any weather at any time."

Cadmus ran a hand over the old gun at his station. "I trained myself. Trekked in the mountains."

"I'm even more impressed then," Decimus said. "You shoot about as good as I do."

Cadmus heard the teasing tone and narrowed his eyes at his chief. "Are you issuing a challenge?"

Decimus shrugged but lifted his rifle up and peered through its scope. "If you can keep up."

Cadmus snapped up the rifle in front of him. A speed contest, then. Decimus pushed a button to his side and suddenly the targets began zooming all over the room. Cadmus fired rapidly, blocking out Decimus' existence. The darkness may have hampered him in the past, but not after the Reaper War. He'd shot hundreds of living targets at night as well as day. For a flurry of five minutes, Cadmus hit target after target until there was a chime in the range and the targets stilled. Decimus lowered his rifle and tapped the button on the wall to his right again. Lights came up in the range, slowly moving from dim to bright to let their eyes adjust. Decimus smiled at Cadmus and pointed to a small screen on the wall. Cadmus walked over. It displayed two readouts—one for him and one for Decimus—listing the number of shots, their accuracy and those considered critical. A score had been determined from these factors. Decimus' bar was on top. He'd won. Cadmus looked over at him.

"Be glad you didn't grow up Mehrkuri," Decimus said. "Loser of the week became servant of the others for the next week. Vidori and Brigid took full advantage. The stuff they made me do. Cosima was always too gentle."

"Aiolus?" Cadmus questioned.

Decimus' mandible tightened. He set his rifle down and drummed his talons on the shelf. "He lost most of the time once he joined us."

"He was the youngest," Cadmus commented. It was only logical Aiolus wouldn't have demonstrated the prowess of his siblings.

Decimus stilled his talons, but kept his focus on his rifle. "And we made him pay for it."

"I'm sorry about your brothers," Cadmus spoke quietly.

Decimus looked up. "Nissa sent you down here to give me a pep talk."

Cadmus shrugged his mandibles. "Not in so many words. I think she wanted you to have turian company."

Decimus glanced around the entirety of the range. "This place is living with memory." He looked pointedly at Cadmus. "I didn't come down here to brood. I'm bidding farewell."

Cadmus tilted his head curiously. "To what exactly?"

"Practically, to Tridend. Drong is looking for a way back to Tuchanka."

"The Brashius…"

"Was never really ours. It was stolen. I handed it over to the authorities. When Drong finds passage back, Nissa and I are going with him."

"Nissa wants to see Selyna," Cadmus conjectured.

"She does," Decimus confirmed, "But I think I'll be a better asset to my own people on Tuchanka. Our new alliance with the krogan means I can make a case for their continued aid. Drong's already agreed to help."

Cadmus was struck by the irony that Decimus, descendent of the great Admiral Mehrkuri of the Krogan Rebellions, was going to bargain for aid from krogan. "I wish you all success."

Decimus' eyes scanned the range again. "But I'm not just saying good-bye to Tridend. I'm saying good-bye to my past." Decimus set his intense, yellow-eyed gaze on Cadmus. "Are you willing to hear one more piece of advice from your old chief, Cadmus?"

Cadmus nodded. "Go ahead."

"Let go of your past. Whatever mistakes you've made or ways you didn't do it right, don't let them control you. Look towards the future. Change what you have to, make restitution, but let it go."

Decimus moved to the bottom of the stairs. "You can stay and practice if you want." Cadmus turned back to the range, listening to Decimus' footsteps ascend, then a door open and close. He didn't feel like shooting; he'd had enough of that for a lifetime. He made his way to a bench flush against the left wall. He envisioned Decimus as a child rooted to the bench with his brothers and sisters as his father marched up and down preaching Tridend duty and pride to them. Tridend turians might consider themselves stricter than those on Palaven, but Cadmus guessed his own father would give them a run for their money. He hadn't thought of his father since the war ended, his mind occupied with Garrus. Now he wondered if his father lived.

Cadmus sat for quite a while in the cool, quiet range. He kept thinking of Decimus' words of wisdom. His chief had been right. If Cadmus kept tying himself to the past, he couldn't forge ahead freely. I need to let it go, but I can't do that here. I need to go back to Palaven.

Cadmus sighed, leaning forward with elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Laelia, I wish you were here. He had been glad she hadn't been part of the war. He might have lost her to harvesting or seen her as mangled as his mother and he couldn't have borne that. But now that it was over, his heart ached for her. If I could touch you again, just once… She'd been able to give him strength when he had none. Just the thought of her had made him a better turian. Let go, Decimus had advised. Let go, not forget.

Cadmus closed his eyes. He must have dosed because he felt groggy when his omni-tool suddenly buzzed. He sat up, his back stiff, rubbed his eyes and glanced at his tool, fully expecting to see a call from Solana, a question about supplies. But the code that appeared caused his heart to skip a beat. An audio message—from Garrus. Cadmus fumbled with his tool, eager to hear it. When had it been sent? Before or after the Reaper defeat? Cadmus finally managed to set the message playing. Garrus' flanging voice echoed in the range broken frequently by static.

"…hope this reaches you…buoys down…message will be short. Set my tool…repeat until received…Reapers destroyed galaxy wide…Crucible worked. Dad, let me know if you and Sol…alive. Where you…" The message broke off.

Cadmus' eyes unexpectedly moistened. He placed a hand over them, breathing in and out, controlling himself. His son lived. Cadmus keyed his tool, recording a return message and doing as Garrus had done, setting it to send until received.

"Garrus, Solana and I are safely on Tridend. Reapers destroyed here as well. Let us know where you are. I'm so glad to hear you're safe, son."

Cadmus stood after pressing send, tapping on his omni-tool then taking the steps up to the first floor two at a time. He had his hand to his ear, waiting for Solana to pick up. Her voice finally came over his comm. "If you want me to get something else, I'm just coming in the door." Cadmus cut the transmission, making his way to the entrance of the Mehrkuri home. Solana stood with several packages in her arms. Cadmus took some from her, beaming at her.

Solana tipped her head, suspicious. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I received a message from Garrus. He's alive."

Solana's mandibles fluttered. "He is?"

"Yes."

"Where is he?"

"He didn't say."

Solana's mandibles clacked. "What else did he say?"

"The War is over. He wanted to know where we were."

"Anything else?"

"His message was broken up. Too many comm buoys still down. Billions must be trying to send messages to family."

Solana swallowed, her eyes glossy. "I need to get these supplies sorted," she strained out, coughing to cover her emotions.

Cadmus followed her to the bedroom, smiling at the fact that she was just as pleased as he to know Garrus lived.


Information trickled in after Cadmus received Garrus' message. A week later, a broadcast came through, Primarch Adrien Victus describing the final battle against the Reapers. Cadmus and Solana along with the refugees had listened in rapt attention. A last desperate attack had been undertaken at Earth. Victus credited Commander Jane Shepard for making amends between races and gathering them to earth's defense. Solana had bristled then, obviously annoyed Earth had been deemed more appropriate a place to defend then Palaven. She cooled however when Victus explained that the Reapers had somehow transported the Citadel to Earth and it was the final part needed for something called the Crucible. Shepard had led a last push to the Citadel and was responsible for the downfall of the Reapers. Shepard had been wounded in the process and was currently unavailable for comment. Victus ended by speaking grandly about the restoration of turian space and the necessity of uniting with the races just as had been accomplished in the final battle. Almost every race had had a hand in the battle and lost thousands upon thousands of soldiers.

After the broadcast, the refugees chatted about the fact Commander Shepard had been their salvation. The galaxy had turned on her yet she doggedly served it, giving her own body to the cause. It was an act turians could appreciate and honor. Cadmus had sat back in wonder. Garrus had obviously seen far more in Shepard than he had and had been right to trust her. Cadmus had glanced over at his daughter who spoke not a word. She'd had to eat her words when the Reapers appeared. Now she had to do so again.

A few more days went by and then Shepard herself appeared in a recorded message. She sported multiple bruises and she seemed terribly stiff, as if moving a muscle would cause incredible pain. Still, she spoke decisively: "Destroying the Reapers has given our galaxy a chance to be better than we were before. Our sacrifices must not have been in vain. We cannot let the Reapers win even after they are gone. We must live as one, a united galaxy. We will restore our homes. They will become symbols of the resilience of our races. We will make the Citadel the base of a new Council, a Council devoted to the needs of all its members. Let us spread our victory from planet to planet, cultivating the strength of our unity in each race as we lay aside old grudges and make enemies friends. Never forget what it has taken to bring us to this point. It has taken all the races to work together as a whole entity. Only by working together will we restore what was lost. Let us never doubt that we will claim this galaxy back as ours!"

An explanation in the turian language came afterwards, detailing the new council Shepard referred to. The three council members had been killed when the Citadel was occupied by Reaper forces. Victus hadn't detailed much about the Citadel, but Cadmus had gathered it had been decimated by the Reapers. He didn't want to think about what that meant for friends he'd left there. The new council would consist of representatives from all the races. It was only fitting since all had defeated the Reapers. There was some consternation among the refugees who didn't like the idea of volus or batarians or quarians or any number of races from having a hand in galactic policies. Cadmus wasn't sure what to think. It certainly would be no easy feat to get such a disparate group to agree on much. At the same time, Shepard had been right—they needed each other. They'd all been so devastated they'd only restore their worlds if they worked together.

Once the comm buoys to Tridend were completely repaired, casualty lists funneled in, two of which drew Cadmus' immediate attention—those from Palaven and Earth. Cadmus had searched them meticulously finding name after name he recognized. His father, however, was absent. He finally managed to get a call through to his father. He received a quick reply from the ship's communications officer telling him his father was occupied. At least he was alive even if he didn't seem eager to connect with his son. Even more good news came in the form of Bresien Fedorian who contacted Solana to let her know he was alright and aboard the Valorous waiting to go home.

But encouragement was dampened when detailed reports on the Citadel came down. There was no casualty list—only a short one of fourteen survivors. The Reapers had harvested or incinerated everyone else on the Citadel—most of the dead would never be identified. Cadmus had sat in stunned silence on his bed for a time, staring at the list of survivors. He knew none of them. That meant that most everyone from his C-Sec days had perished—Paeon, Denae, Rawls and hundreds of officers he'd respected and admired. Cadmus had dropped the list to his bed, mandibles aching as they dug into his jaw. His yearning to return to Palaven redoubled. He couldn't save anyone on the Citadel, but maybe he could save those left on his home planet.


Cadmus stood next to Solana at the Mehrkuri kitchen counter cutting slices of fruit while his daughter mixed a spice. He glanced over at her for a moment when she sighed. Her eyes were drawn. The devastation of the galaxy was a burden on both their backs. Few habited planets had been spared. Repaired comm buoys transmitted updates daily most filled with lists of dead and statistics of destruction. Garrus had checked in one more time, but only to send a recorded message that he was relieved at their survival and couldn't for the moment disclose his location and he might be out of touch for a time, but they needn't worry. Solana, who had been so affected by his survival, fell into a sour mood again. She said nothing to Cadmus, but he guessed she thought that Garrus was once again loyal to someone else over them—Commander Jane Shepard. Cadmus, on the other hand, didn't resent Garrus. If he was indeed at Jane Shepard's side, it was because he was loyal to a wounded superior, a worthy action. Besides, most Mass Relays were still damaged, including Tridend's. Garrus couldn't reach them even if he wanted to.

Solana looked up, sensing Cadmus had ceased cutting and caught him contemplating her. He jerked his head down, resuming his task.

Solana sighed. "I'm just…I'm worried about Selnie."

Cadmus continued to concentrate on slicing the fruit. Selnie was one of their refugees, a pregnant female two months from labor. "She's seen a doctor. He says all is well."

Solana sniffed. "Well, I'm still worrying about her."

Cadmus didn't reply. Solana was a bit too aggressive in her response. Whatever was bothering her was more than Selnie's pregnancy. Silence fell over the father and daughter. It was broken a few minutes later when Decimus Mehrkuri entered the room.

"Relay's working," he reported shortly.

Both heads snapped up at the news. Solana dropped a spoon in the bowl of spices. "We can go back to Palaven?"

"Not right away," Decimus said, leaning against the doorjamb. "Tridend Traffic Control is being bombarded by requests to leave. They're compiling a schedule for departures." Decimus looked to Cadmus. "Drong has a way back to Tuchanka, but at this point it will be at least two weeks until we hit space."

Solana groaned and turned back to the counter. The spoon banged inside her bowl as she stirred angrily.

"What about the Valorous?" Cadmus asked.

"They'll take refugees, I'm sure. But…" Decimus glanced to Solana, then back to Cadmus.

Cadmus drew close to his friend. "But…"

Decimus spoke, his voice low. "Reports on Palaven are saying there's not much left. Your people are going to have to decide if they want to go back."

Cadmus stared for a second, then nodded weakly. Decimus placed a comforting hand on Cadmus' shoulder, then left the room. Cadmus looked to Solana who was arranging bowls of fruit for the refugees. He hadn't thought about the fact that Palaven might not be worth returning to. When they'd fled it was already devastated and so clogged with dust they had to wear helmets almost everywhere they went. When their forces pulled back to wait, it must have gotten even worse.

"Can you carry the other tray?" Solana asked.

Cadmus nodded, but as she turned her back and left the room, he stood with his hands braced on the kitchen counter. He'd seen what one Reaper did to his legion, what several did to Cipritine. How many Reapers had assaulted Palaven? Give up the past. Give it up. I can make peace with my past, Cadmus told himself. But I can never give up my planet.

Cadmus picked up the tray Solana asked him to carry. The bowls of fruit tinkled and he realized his hands were shaking. He'd have to give the refugees a choice to return or not, but he would go back no matter what. Even so, he couldn't stem the involuntary fear that overtook him as he contemplated what he might find upon his return.