"What does the Hierarchy expect us to do?!" a turian voice flanged loudly. Others joined in, shouting, murmuring, gesturing angrily, expressing their vexation.
Cadmus raised his hands, imploring the refugees to calm. "The Hierarchy is still assessing the situation. But even if they do let us return, it will not be for a time."
Another turian stood up and shook his fist. "The other colonies are just as bad as Palaven! We can't go there."
"Tridend…" Cadmus began, but another argumentative voice interrupted.
"We're not going back to Tridend! We just left it!"
More voices, more shouts, more anger. Cadmus' mandibles clacked and he raised his voice to match theirs, booming out, "I command you to silence!"
The voices faded. Cadmus gazed on each face. Their eyes were desperate. They'd gone through so much and they'd come back to Palaven with the hope of gaining back something of what they'd lost. Cadmus empathized with the yearning in their eyes, but he had no ability to satisfy it.
It had been three months since the refugees escaped Palaven. Fifty of them had signed up for transport back to the Trebia System, Cadmus and Solana included. The journey had been sluggish, stalled by damaged Mass Relays under repair and days spent in queues waiting to pass through. They had finally reached Palaven yesterday and Cadmus had been summoned to Captain Ocella's quarters a few hours later. He expected to receive an estimate of when his refugees could disembark and a location for residence. What he got was disappointment. No one but military on search and rescue detail was allowed down. The majority of Palaven was uninhabitable. Atmospheric conditions made it difficult to breathe and most towns had been reduced to rubble. Reconstruction would be lengthy—years of arduous labor. Cadmus had been told that his refugees would be funneled to other ships and distributed elsewhere. He hadn't rushed back to inform his contingent, anticipating a heated response. He'd waited, gathering them today after a breakfast of ration bars and water, trying as compassionately as possible to reveal that they could not stay in the system even after their frustrating journey. The news was more than most of them could bear.
Once the small chamber grew silent, Cadmus breathed deeply. "I understand your anger, but we do not have a choice. We must leave. You can request transfer to these colonies." Cadmus tapped on his omni-tool sending each refugee a list. "If you do not choose, you will be transported back to Tridend. You are dismissed." He emphasized the last word to make it clear he would abide no more argument. The group dispersed, grumbling as they exited. When the door shut behind the last refugee, Cadmus sank down onto a low cot and leaned with his back against the wall. Solana had remained, slumped against the wall across from him. Her eyes smoldered.
"It's not right," she spoke lowly. "It's our home. They cannot keep us from it."
Cadmus locked eyes with her. "The Hierarchy's only concern is protecting us."
"We should be allowed to choose our own fate!" Solana hissed.
"Solana!" Cadmus reprimanded. Solana ground her jaw and looked away from him. Cadmus desired to go down to Palaven as strongly as she, but it was unjust to make the Hierarchy the enemy. The Hierarchy was in the midst of rebuilding itself as much as its planets, members hastily appointed, colonies trying to organize with others in any way possible. Assessing the needs of Palaven alone would take months. The Hierarchy had no choice just as Cadmus and his refugees had no choice.
"We can't expect things to be the way they were," Cadmus spoke gently, telling himself as well as Solana. He had envisioned arriving and joining up with other Palaven turians determined to labor day and night if necessary to restore their home. He had been naïve, or maybe he had just been too hopeful, refusing to entertain the painful notion that Palaven couldn't rise from its ashes.
Solana turned back to him, glistening blue eyes hard. "No one expects it to be fixed overnight. It doesn't matter what it's like. It's home. It's the only place we belong."
Cadmus flexed his mandibles. "We have to submit to the Hierarchy."
Solana flung her hand out in frustration. "Don't you want to go down there?"
"Of course I do!" Cadmus snapped. Solana clacked her mandibles against her jaw. Cadmus released a breath, controlling his frustration at his daughter's obstinacy. She had always been stubborn and full of spirit, sometimes too much. "I want to stay as much as anyone does, but what I want won't change what is. We need to look at the list of colonies…"
Solana turned abruptly and fled out the door. Cadmus didn't run after her. Let her go and calm down.
Cadmus tapped on his tool, bringing up the list of colonies accepting refugees. He scanned it with a talon, weighing the pros and cons of each planet. Eventually, he turned his tool off without a conclusion. None of them fit. None of them were Palaven.
Cadmus stood and wandered into the hall. The Valorous was a frigate, mid-sized but impressive. He made his way down the hall, soldiers on duty passing him. He hated that he had nothing to occupy his time as they did. Once his refugees were gone, he'd have no direction or duties. He already felt lost, adrift in a lonely black sea.
Cadmus entered the Valorous' rec room. Thankfully, no one was present, providing him the solitude he sought. He approached the row of square windows that looked out into space and peered through one the width and length of his face. The sight that met his eyes was no less heart-wrenching than when they'd first arrived—Palaven, dark, its atmosphere churning swirls of dust. He'd gotten so used to seeing his home planet from space as he'd traveled back and forth from the Citadel. Its bright lights indicative of populous cities, its muted greens and its wispy clouds had always been a welcome sight. Now it appeared a ruin even from space. Cadmus rubbed at his chest. His scar was aching again.
Cadmus pulled back from the window, retreating to a corner with a firm chair and slipping down into it. Stop pitying yourself, he ordered. You live. How could he whine over his inability to live on his planet when he'd survived? Billions of turians no longer existed. He should be grateful he and his children had been spared.
"Commander Vakarian?"
Cadmus put his hand to his ear. "Yes?"
"It's Lieutenant Fedorian, sir. Where are you located?"
"Rec room."
"I'm on my way, sir."
"What is this ab…"
"Fedorian out."
Cadmus flexed his brow plates, but returned to tapping on his omni-tool. Whatever Bresien Fedorian had to tell him, he'd know soon enough. He contemplated the chart he'd created that compared the refugee colonies. He'd wanted to make the choice clearer for himself, but also easier for Solana. If she could see what each offered perhaps leaving Palaven wouldn't hurt as much.
A few minutes later, the door to the room swished open. Cadmus expected Bresien, but tipped his head when he saw Solana with him. The lieutenant had a firm hold on her upper arm and she looked none too pleased about this fact.
"What in the…?"
"Tell him, Sol," Bresien commanded.
Solana flashed her eyes at him. "Let me go. Now."
"If you don't tell him, I will."
"Bresien, I swear I'm going to beat the crap out of you."
Bresien looked to Cadmus. "I caught her trying to abscond with a shuttle."
Cadmus' mouth opened and he dropped his talon from his tool. "Solana?"
"There were others with her," Bresien hastily explained. "I…didn't tell the captain. I know they've been through a lot. I gave them all a lecture and commanded them not to try again."
"Leave us," Cadmus growled.
Bresien released Solana, bowed his head and left the room. Solana made to follow, but Cadmus hastily stood with hands behind his back. "You do not have permission to leave."
Solana froze at the door, not turning around, seemingly debating his order. She finally spoke quietly. "The legion's gone."
"I am still your father and your superior. Face me."
Solana slowly rounded and fixed him with a cold gaze. "After all we've been through, this is how you treat me?"
Cadmus scowled at her. "You're fortunate Lieutenant Fedorian found you. If it hadn't been him, you'd be in the brig right now under captain's orders. You and all those with you."
Solana turned her face to the side and coughed.
"Disobeying the Hierarchy is unacceptable. If you'd made it to Palaven it would be grounds for immediate arrest and punishment."
Solana rounded on her father. "So where would they put me? Do you think there are any prisons left down there?" She pointed at the row of square windows. "I have a right to rebuild my home! They have a right." She gestured to the door indicating the refugees.
"If you go down there, it will destroy you!" Cadmus suddenly shouted, losing his patience. "There's nothing for you there, nothing for us. It's a wasteland of debris and dust. It's not our home anymore!" Cadmus' chest rose and fell in his anger. His heart thumped in his chest at his words, their truth crashing down on him. Now that he'd let himself say it aloud he knew it was true. Palaven wasn't home, couldn't be home.
Solana's mandibles trembled and her face fell. Her eyes moistened. "Can I go?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Cadmus immediately regretted his words. She'd needed to hear the truth, but not like that. "Solana, I shouldn't have…"
"Can I?" she interrupted, repeating her question.
"Solana…"
Solana bolted, not waiting for permission to exit. Cadmus sank back down into the chair. He remained still for a moment, then slapped his hand on the chair's armrest. Solana needed comfort, not a lecture. Cadmus put a hand to his chin and rubbed vigorously. Would he ever be the father his children needed or was he always doomed to be the harsh voice of reason in their lives?
Solana didn't return to him the rest of the day. He wanted to make restitution, but she wasn't going to let him. Instead, he spent his time meeting with each refugee family, compiling a list of their colony requests. He had to send the list to the captain by morning. When he eventually returned to the small corner of a storage bay he shared with his daughter, he found her asleep on a pallet.
Cadmus gingerly lowered himself to his own so as not to disturb her. He sat with his knees drawn up, his arms resting on them. He pondered Solana for a time. Her mouth was slightly open and she breathed deeply. She wore a simple blue suit, too big for her, one of Brigid's that Decimus had given her. Cadmus glanced down at his own overly large suit. These were the only clothes they currently owned. Solana had forgone accepting handouts just as he had, putting herself aside for those with greater need.
Cadmus rested his head in his right hand. She'd been through so much. How long had they been without a home, sleeping on uncomfortable pallets and unfamiliar beds? Nine months at least. Cadmus sighed. Where would they land? Their lives had been thoroughly up heaved. Cadmus looked back over at his daughter. She deserved a life of peace after everything that had happened.
Cadmus lay back on his pallet and closed his eyes. If they could have stepped onto Palaven one more time and seen it at its worst, maybe going to another colony would have felt better. Despite what he'd been told about the state on the ground, Cadmus couldn't help feeling they were abandoning it. Cadmus let out a weary breath. He'd show Solana the chart tomorrow morning. He'd let her make the decision where to go, give her control over something in a life defined by turmoil.
Cadmus grunted in his sleep. Something tingled his right wrist. He batted at it subconsciously, then his mind awoke. His omni-tool was buzzing. He'd set it to vibrate if someone tried to contact him. He pushed himself to a sitting position, groaning softly at the achy muscles that protested his action. The storage unit was dimly lit, turians scattered across it sleeping. Solana was still. Cadmus rose from his pallet and stiffly shuffled out into a narrow hall. He thought perhaps Garrus was calling in real time. Three days ago he'd received another message from his son saying he was currently on Sur'Kesh and would be there for some time. He didn't say what he was up to and Cadmus didn't ask when he replied. Garrus had proved himself worthy of trust. If he didn't say, there was a reason. Still, Cadmus wished his son had seen fit to head for Palaven. He had survived the war and that was good enough for Cadmus, but to see Garrus in person would make that fact concrete in a way nothing else could.
Cadmus read the sending code. It wasn't Garrus and it wasn't a code he recognized. Cadmus tapped his tool and put his hand to his ear. "Commander Vakarian."
"Commander. Councilor Adrien Victus."
Cadmus flapped his mandibles in surprise. First, to his knowledge, Adrien Victus was still the Primarch of Palaven. Councilor must mean he'd joined the newly appointed council he'd referred to in his speech. Second, Cadmus wondered why the Primarch or Councilor would contact him. "Sir."
"Are you somewhere private?"
Cadmus glanced along the empty hall. "Yes, sir."
"Good. I'll get straight to the point, Commander. I need an ambassador."
Cadmus' brow plates rose. "Sir?"
"You've been recommended to me."
Cadmus didn't respond. Who had spoken of him to the Primarch?
"I know this isn't usual, but these are not usual times. I am not sure how aware you are of the state of the Hierarchy. To be blunt, Commander, it is a mess. We lost more than half our members not to mention our staff and connections. We have had to appoint those available and willing and we do not have the luxury of taking time to do it. How much do you know of the Intragalactic Council?"
"Not much," Cadmus answered, still confounded. Him? An ambassador? For what?
A sharp sigh sounded in Cadmus' ear. "Leadership is a priority. Every race has appointed a councilor to fill a position in it. I was…compelled to be one."
Cadmus sensed how unhappy Victus was with his appointment.
"I'm not a politician," Victus stated directly. "But this is not a time for arguing over personal preference. Positions must be filled and we fill them, which brings me to you, Commander. Cleaning up this galaxy will take stringent effort, hard labor, constant negotiation and strong alliances. As such, the Council has decided to appoint ambassadors from every race that can assess each race's needs and advocate for its interests. You will not be the only ambassador, one of a hundred. For the time being, you will work with the military to determine the needs of a colony. From there, you will oversee the development of a reconstruction plan and personally approach other races as needed for aid."
Cadmus' mind was awhirl. He was being asked to take a position in the government, something he had never sought nor desired.
"If you want time to decide, I have little to give you," Victus spoke on. "But I have full confidence in you even if we have not met. I remember several of your cases from the Citadel and I am aware you were on the ground on Palaven and head of a legion. You are a man who gets the job done and your advocate says your loyalty to Palaven is second to none."
Cadmus wanted to make sure he understood. "Am I to take Palaven as my charge?"
"Yes, along with two other ambassadors. You will work as a team."
Cadmus' breath caught in his throat. He was being offered the chance to personally oversee Palaven's resurrection. The prospect was enthralling and daunting. Being in charge of a Ward on the Citadel was one thing, being in charge of a whole planet another. But he wouldn't be alone. From what Victus told him, they were assembling whole teams to rebirth their colonies. Cadmus placed a talon to his chin. What else could he do but accept? Would he instead choose to be hustled off to a colony where he could hole away hoping to recapture some semblance of normalcy? No. He'd been asked to step up to the plate and do his part. It would take work and effort and unflagging determination, but he would answer the call regardless. "I am already at Palaven. Who are the other ambassadors?"
Victus answered, his tone revealing his pleasure that Cadmus had accepted his proposal. "Pancratius Eutros and Himon Cletes." Cadmus recognized the first name, a general in the navy. The other wasn't familiar. "They are on their way to Palaven. They should arrive in a week's time. You will join their ship, the Laurel. You will then assess Palaven. And don't do it from space. I want all of you on the ground. My ambassadors will sport laborious talons. This will not be a position of prosperity."
"I understand and agree, sir."
"I knew you would. Commander, it has been an honor to speak with you."
Cadmus knew Victus would soon terminate the call and he couldn't help but ask a question to satisfy his curiosity. "An honor for me as well. If I may inquire, sir, who has recommended me so highly?"
When Victus answered, Cadmus could hear the smile on his face. "You've noticed I've been elusive, then. I was not asked to keep your advocate anonymous, but I sensed he would be embarrassed if you knew he'd been involved."
"I am sorry for asking, sir. Forgive my inquiry."
"Do not apologize," Victus said, his tone abruptly soft. "Commander, if I may be…personal."
Cadmus softened his own tone. "Go ahead, sir."
"I lost my son during this war. He took after me. I'm afraid my own example may have been party to his death."
Cadmus didn't say anything, unsure if Victus was the type of turian to want sympathy.
"Sometimes you don't know what you had until it's gone. I would hope if my son had lived he would have been as good to me as yours."
Cadmus cocked his head. "So, my son…"
"I know your son. He's a hero over here in the Sol System. I have no doubt as his participation in the final push becomes more widely known he will be a hero to turians everywhere."
Cadmus' chest puffed out in pride.
"In fact, he was offered the turian position of Councilor. He declined for personal reasons, so I was asked. I have found his advice sound and sought his counsel on the ambassadors. He offered your name as one and a vehement explanation of why you would be the right choice. Do not be offended. You have not been offered this honor because of your family connections. Your service to the state and your undaunted loyalty are your backing."
Cadmus shook his head and stared dumbly down the hall. What a twist of fate that Garrus would be advocating for him and not the other way around. And that Garrus was singing his praises? Cadmus felt a bit of guilt dissolve. Perhaps he hadn't been as negligent a father as he'd thought.
"I am honored, sir."
"As you should be. Look for the other ambassadors. I will expect a report on Palaven within a week of their arrival. Strength uphold you. Victus out."
Cadmus leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He was an ambassador. He'd been ordered to stay at Palaven and go down below. Cadmus looked to the door of the storage bay. He had to tell Solana, but first…
Cadmus uncrossed his arms and tapped on his omni-tool, sending a message. Garrus, Councilor Victus contacted me. He offered me an ambassador position attached to the new Council. I have accepted. Cadmus paused. Should he tell Garrus he knew or spare him the embarrassment? I am grateful for this opportunity. Palaven will endure. Let me know when you can how you fare. Your Father. There. He'd said thank you without being too direct.
Cadmus snuck back into the storage bay. He crept over to Solana's pallet and found her awake. "You were gone," she explained in an accusing tone, either upset his absence had worried her or still angry over their confrontation.
"I received a call," Cadmus whispered.
"Garrus?"
Cadmus shook his head. "Councilor Victus."
"Councilor?"
"He's part of the new Council. He asked me to be a Council ambassador for Palaven. I accepted."
Solana popped up on her pallet. "What?"
Cadmus bobbed his hand, warning her to keep her voice quiet so as not to disturb their neighbors. "I am to remain here at Palaven and when the other ambassadors arrive, to go down and assess it."
Solana blinked at him. "So…we get to stay?"
Cadmus nodded. "Yes. We're staying."
Solana swallowed and clasped her hands in her lap. "Thank the spirits," she breathed out.
"We're home, Solana," Cadmus said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Four days later, Cadmus found himself on a shuttle bouncing through Palaven's atmosphere along with the two other ambassadors assigned to Palaven. He'd hardly had time to meet with them before they headed to Palaven. Pancratius Eutros, the former general, was the antithesis of what Cadmus considered a typical general. He was bone thin with severely narrow mandibles and sported rare orange tattoos along his nose and cheeks. Still, he had earned his place in battle at Taetrus, part of the initial push to save the colony. The other ambassador, Himon Cletes, had been a lawyer dealing with contract disputes between the upper echelon of Palaven and other races. He was well-versed in multiple languages and a bit bulky for a turian with royal blue tattoos that echoed the color of his eyes. At his first meeting with the ambassadors, Cadmus had perceived Victus' wisdom in his choices. He'd picked a general, a lawyer and a detective. The general would have the rigidity of the ages in his blood, the stamina not to back down from a fight. The lawyer possessed the skills of deliberation and negotiation, an asset when seeking aid from other races. And himself, the detective, putting the pieces of the bigger picture together. They would make a formidable team.
Cadmus read the expressions of the two other ambassadors—solemn and failing to hide their trepidation as potent as his own. They'd been briefed on the state of Palaven from a military general—they had to expect complete devastation. Cadmus' pulse quickened the closer the shuttle got to the ground. As much as he wanted to step foot on his home again, he dreaded what he might see.
The pilot of the shuttle called out. "Setting us down next to Lake Portent." Lake Portent had been chosen as a landing site because a rescue center had been established there. Most of the fresh water on Palaven had disappeared, but Lake Portent was still a source. It was a natural choice for a rescue center. The center was supposed to bring in survivors, but they'd discover few so far, only a couple hundred at the most.
The shuttle touched down gently and Cadmus moved to the door, holding his breath as it rose. He had prepared himself for ruin, but the valley that met his eyes was virtually untouched—except for a noticeable haze. It wasn't thick enough to cause much visual disturbance, but present enough to color everything in a foggy hue. Tents and hastily constructed wooden lean-tos dotted the area surrounding the landing strip. Soldiers and medical personnel marched back and forth. A turian stood at the bottom of the ramp, middle-aged, pale gray with piercing green eyes and wispy tattoos gracing his forehead. He saluted when the ambassadors reached him.
"Ambassadors. I am General Lonatius. I am at your disposal."
Ambassador Eutros naturally took the lead, relaying the decisions they had made in their first meeting. "We will tour the rescue center. Then we wish to climb Hill Gudar for a wider view."
"Yes, sir," Lonatius replied. "If you will follow me."
Cadmus had thought the rescue center would be a place of hope and relief. Instead, it was a scene of brokenness and desperation. Before they even set foot in the medical tent, they heard screams of someone in pain. A female civilian had been found two hours ago buried in rubble and was undergoing surgery without anesthetic because none was available. They had used up the last allotment and were waiting for more to come in. The sight inside was worse, the female writhing on a dirty pallet, the Lifebringer Brigade doctors kneeling over her, her abdomen exposed. Cadmus had seen injuries and death aplenty, but the female's screaming cut him to the core. His chest ached and he had to control the sensation to heave. Finally she fainted, the pain too much to bear.
The rest of the tent contained turians in various states of injury—missing limbs, burned faces, broken bones, ruptured organs, even mental deterioration evidenced in several turians who sat staring into nothingness. Outside the tent, rows of bodies lay exposed to the elements. Lonatius explained that they were bringing in bodies as able, those that could possibly be identified. However, they were too numerous to keep long. Soldiers systematically took photos of the faces and any particular identifying body marks, then carted the corpses away for burning. Lonatius pointed out the pillar of smoke a kilometer distant from the rescue center indicative of turian death pyres.
Cadmus felt a stab of guilt as they moved on towards Hill Gudar. He had left his people behind, fleeing to space. When the orders had come for the navy to pull back, they'd become the only playthings of the Reapers who had tossed them aside like broken dolls. An image of Garrus flashed through Cadmus' mind. His son had made the right choice—the battle at Earth was necessary to stop the Reapers. But if Garrus could see this… Cadmus closed his eyes momentarily, thankful his son wasn't on Palaven. The death of Arrian had been, and probably still was, a heavy burden his back. He didn't need to add all of Palaven as well.
The climb up Gudar took fifteen minutes. It was steep, the ground slick with a recent rain and the haze growing ever thicker, a creeping fog. Cadmus and his companions slipped into mud several times, but they gradually made it to the top. When he looked out over the expanse, Cadmus' heart sank. The shallow valley was a pristine jewel compared to the surrounding area. All the land the eye could see had been burned and strafed, deep gashes in the ground indicating the relentless beams of Reapers. Cipritine appeared in the distance as a pile of rubble, not one building standing. The view was shadowed in heavy dust allowing only momentary glimpses of the distance. Palaven was an utter wasteland. Cadmus' chest tightened. When he'd spoken to Victus and the Councilor had mentioned reconstruction, he'd felt a surge of hope. Palaven would rise again. Now, Cadmus didn't see how such a thing could be possible. How could anyone live here again?
"I wish we could destroy the Reapers a thousand times over," Cletes muttered next to Cadmus.
Cadmus looked at the turian, his eyes wide and moist. He was a Palaven native.
Eutros stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a general's posture. "It's brutal…And somehow admirable."
"Admirable?!" Cletes blurted out.
Cadmus stared at Eutros in disbelief.
Eutros looked to them both. "They have played at war better than us. Have we not made it our strategy to hit an enemy so hard he will never attack us again? They have followed our policy fully." Cadmus stared into Eutros' amber eyes. Eutros turned from his gaze, looking back out at the land. "I take no pleasure in it, but I have to concede my enemy has played the game better than I."
Cadmus felt the weight of the ambassador's words. Turians were thorough in war. In basic, the first point in the lesson on war was that there was no room for mercy and the enemy must be crippled. But there was something different between turians and Reapers. Turians did whatever it took to bring an enemy to his knees. Reapers brought their victims to their knees and then smashed them into dust.
"We are not Reapers," Cadmus spoke up boldly.
Eutros replied without looking back. "We have never possessed the power they wielded. If we had, I suspect the krogan would not exist."
Cadmus narrowed his eyes at the ambassador. He was too much the general, seeing everything in starkly militaristic terms. Cadmus disagreed, but before he could compose an answer, Cletes took up the argument.
"If we had eliminated the krogan, they wouldn't have come to our rescue, would they?" Eutros didn't answer and Cadmus looked to Cletes whose eyes proclaimed his victory. Ever the lawyer, he exposed the flaw in the logic. "Now, we haven't come here to analyze military policy. The question we must ask is where do we start?"
Cadmus clenched and unclenched his hands, running thoughtful eyes over the devastation. Where did they start? Where? The wheels in his mind turned and the pieces connected—the wasteland before him and the discussion of krogan rescue.
Cadmus proclaimed decisively, "We need to make a call."
Cadmus strode resolutely down the corridors of his current residence—the cruiser Laurel. He and Solana had been assigned private quarters along with the other ambassadors. Victus' intention had been that the ship would be their home until more permanent shelters were arranged on Palaven. After seeing Palaven in person, Cadmus doubted they'd move down any time soon. His mind was still troubled over what he had seen, but the call he had made encouraged him. As he'd stood looking out at the devastation of Palaven, asking himself if there was any way to inhabit it again, he recalled two peoples he knew had the skills and the experience to deal with such a situation: turians from Tridend and krogan from Tuchanka.
Turians on Tridend had forced a hostile planet to their will and continued to do so, producing green growth from arid soil. Krogan who inhabited Tuchanka had managed to survive on a desolate globe for centuries. Neither he nor Cletes nor Eutros had the knowledge or experience to salvage Palaven. So Cadmus put his new promotion to work, calling up Decimus. Decimus had yet to reach Tuchanka, Mass Relays connecting to the krogan home world still under repair. However, he expected to reach the planet within the week. Cadmus explained his idea—that Palaven needed a team of krogan from Tuchanka and turians from Tridend, advisors that could observe Palaven firsthand and lend their counsel to a plan for its regeneration. Predictably, Decimus said he would do what he could. He'd meet with Drong and Scraul, put a call into Primarch Bantius and let Cadmus know what happened.
Cadmus slowed his pace as he reached the door to his quarters. He had been repeating to himself that he needed to prepare for years, not months, of work on Palaven. He wondered if lesser races would have moved on like the quarians, letting go of their planet. Turians were not so easily dissuaded. In fact, even though refugees showed up daily and were told they could not land on Palaven, thousands of them stayed. The space around Palaven had become cluttered with personal ships, turians refusing to leave their home. They didn't care even when Palaven's situation was explained to them. They pledged themselves to the work it would take to bring it back.
Cadmus stood for a moment outside the door. He assumed Solana was inside, waiting for his return. He steeled himself. He would have to describe what he had seen below. There may have been a glimmer of hope, but it was only a glimmer. It would hurt her to hear what had become of her beloved home.
Cadmus stepped forward, the door swooshing open. Solana sat in a chair in a corner, a data pad in her lap. She'd been given it by order of Victus when Cadmus asked his daughter to help him keep tabs on developments. He'd wanted to give her something to do, a focus to keep her mind off of their situation. However, Solana wasn't tapping on the data pad. She was staring straight ahead, blue eyes fierce. Perhaps she had already seen photos from below?
She turned her head after a couple seconds, locking eyes with Cadmus. "It all makes sense now. All of it."
Cadmus cocked his head. "What?"
She jabbed at the data pad, her talon clicking against it. "This. Why he chose her over us."
Cadmus flapped his mandibles, none of this making sense. "Who?"
Solana's mandibles jerked out and in. She clenched her jaw, picked up the data pad and flung it at her father who caught it deftly. "Listen," she ground out.
Cadmus looked down at the data pad. An audio file dated a week ago from the Alliance News Network graced the screen. ANN had been operational for a couple weeks. When they'd begun receiving news updates from the human group, Cadmus had been unwillingly impressed. He recalled how dogged human reporters had been on the Citadel, never content to keep their noses out of anyone's business. He'd thrown dozens of them out of his office over the years. They were so resilient and just as humans vowed to rebuild earth, surviving reporters vowed to rebuild ANN. A ragtag group had managed to set up a broadcasting base and connect the galaxy again to news. There was something to honor in their tenacity, but Cadmus also found it disturbing that in such desperate times humans would waste effort on rebuilding a news organization. At least the ANN broadcasts revealed that comm buoys were being repaired or replaced at an impressive rate. The faster communication was restored to the galaxy the better.
Cadmus looked askance at Solana who glared at him. Cadmus pressed the play button and a human male voice filled the room. "One of our sources informs us that the first wave of quarians has landed on Rannoch with a plan to reestablish their home world, however, comm buoys near the planet are still down and we cannot confirm this rumor. The United Intragalactic Council held its third meeting today behind closed doors. Councilor Zoida reports that negotiations for the dispersing of supplies to those in need is progressing. As our listeners may recall, Admiral Steven Hackett has been arguing for an equal distribution of food supplies to colonies now accessible through Mass Relays. This has caused some tension as the batarians and the hanar have argued that they were hit the hardest by the Reapers and should be allotted more aid. The asari have sent a delegation to the Council to demand additional seats. Councilor T'Tala has stated that the asari's extensive lifespan and depth of knowledge are of the most benefit to the rebuilding of the galaxy and therefore their Council influence should be increased. No word on how this request has been received. And now, for a surprising tidbit on our savior, Admiral Jane Shepard."
Cadmus observed Solana's hands ball into fists. The two broadcasts they'd picked up from ANN had both included something about Shepard. She was the woman of the millennia as far as ANN was concerned and Cadmus happened to agree with them. But she'd holed herself away somewhere and ANN had been peppered with inquiries about her absence. The two previous broadcasts had simply stated that nothing new was known about Shepard's health or her location. The reporter continued.
"A source that wishes to remain anonymous has provided us with the news that the Admiral eloped. When this occurred is not clear."
Solana snorted angrily.
"What is surprising is the Admiral's new spouse. Apparently, she has wedded a former teammate from the Normandy and the turian Reaper Advisor during the war—one Garrus Vakarian."
Solana pushed into her chair, back rigid. Cadmus blinked his eyes in disbelief, stunned.
"Human-turian relationships are rare if not non-existent. The Admiral and her husband could be the first to tie the knot." The recording ended.
Cadmus stumbled to a chair across from Solana, dropping the data pad on a shelf as he went. He sank into the austere chair. Garrus had mated with Shepard? He'd known his son respected her as a soldier and superior but…mating with her? Cadmus cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak. "Perhaps this is a mistake. A rumor."
Solana's eyes flashed to him. "It isn't!" she declared. "It's true. It's the final piece of information I needed."
Cadmus tilted his head at her.
"Yes," she said. "I never got how he could leave mom like that, dump her for two years. It was all about Shepard."
Cadmus swallowed against a dry throat. "Shepard was dead then."
"But he loved her! He went off to find her. I know it."
Cadmus drummed his right talons on the armrest of the chair. He remembered how Garrus had come home after Shepard's death, how he'd walked in on him in a full out combat practice session, how his son had declared his intent to bludgeon the Council with Shepard's visions. Had he already had a relationship with Shepard then?
"And when she came back alive, you know he joined her on that ship, chasing collectors and who knows what else."
Cadmus' talons drummed faster. Garrus had claimed Shepard had saved his life and he owed her…but was there more to it?
"And then he left Palaven," Solana spat out so forcefully spittle arced through the air. "He abandoned us when we needed him. He went with her because he was infatuated with a barefaced human!"
Cadmus pointed a talon at his daughter. "Admiral Shepard doesn't deserve such a description!" He could understand Solana's anger over Garrus' actions, but a woman who had been disparaged by the galaxy and gave herself completely for it anyway was not barefaced.
"You're okay with this?" Solana growled.
Cadmus firmed his jaw. He hadn't had the time to figure out how he felt about it. "I don't know."
Solana snorted haughtily, jerking to a stand. "You don't know?"
"I need to think," Cadmus returned testily.
Solana guffawed. "What is there to think about? Garrus threw us aside for Shepard. He should be dead to us."
"Solana!" Cadmus reprimanded, but his daughter had bolted out the door. Cadmus didn't go after her because he had no words to convince her she was wrong. If Garrus had linked his life to Shepard all his time away from Palaven made perfect sense—he'd been compelled by love. But what kind? What could a turian possibly see in a human? Turians could be impressed with human character, acts of bravery and courage, but love them? Liselle Kutama came to his mind, the human prostitute he'd met while investigating Venari's death. She'd interacted intimately with turians. Was Garrus just a sexual deviant enthralled with the idea of human intimacy?
Cadmus shook his head. No. Not his son. Garrus had never lost his head over a female or pursued them like Viator. Then what was this? A feeling of love born of being near to her so much, confusing the admiration of a superior with love?
Cadmus sat still for a long time, puzzling over his son's choice. The thought of mating with a human was so repulsive to him, he couldn't wrap his mind around this. He'd had a hard enough time accepting Viator taking a quarian mate. A human…it was ludicrous.
Cadmus rubbed his face. His brain hurt. He glanced at his omni-tool. It was getting late. He needed to make his next meeting with the ambassadors. Then it hit him. Others would know about this, too. How would they look at him now, the father of the turian who was Shepard's mate?
Cadmus was about to rise when his tool buzzed. He'd received a message—from Garrus. Dad, you are a good choice for ambassador. I was asked to take a position in the Council, but it isn't the place for me. I'm not a politician. The Hierarchy is fortunate to get the better Vakarian. I fare well. I don't know when I'll get to see you in person. I'm taking care of a friend that was wounded. I hope you understand. Garrus.
Cadmus stared at the words. A friend. That's as far as Garrus was willing to go with his father. And the subtle plea for understanding. Cadmus had wondered why Garrus hadn't attempted to send a video or audio message. Most likely because his tone or his visage would have given away his nervousness and aroused his father's suspicion. Garrus had anticipated Cadmus' rejection of his marriage.
Cadmus let out a low breath. He needed Laelia right now. He needed someone he could confide in about his radical son. Garrus had always done this to him, butting right up against tradition and order. If Laelia were here, he could talk it out and she'd…She'd accept it. The thought punched Cadmus in the gut. She'd easily accepted Leea. And what was it she'd said in her last letter? That Cadmus should trust Garrus' decisions because he'd experienced a different life than Cadmus and Cadmus wouldn't understand things he did. Cadmus ground his teeth. Garrus had visited his mother on Sur'Kesh and she'd written the letter there. Did she know about this? Had Garrus told her? Because her letter now made even more sense to him than when he'd first read it.
"Ambassador Vakarian?"
Cadmus jumped, startled by the sudden voice in his ear, Cletes. "Yes?"
"We're awaiting your arrival."
Cadmus quickly stood. "On my way. Vakarian out."
Cadmus marched through the door and down the hall. His son had married Shepard. He couldn't change it. It had already happened. But he didn't know if he'd ever be okay with it.
