Chapter Eighteen: Shame on Me

"I have the day's report for you, Ms. T'Neri."

Deena blinked as she glanced up from her computer. "Is it that time already?" She checked the time, noting with a little concern just how late it was. She'd expected Thane to arrive hours ago. But she tried not to let her apprehension show on her face, and instead smiled at the quarian girl in front of her and took the datapad she offered. "Thank you, Nika. You may go. Good night."

"Good night, ma'am."

Deena watched her as she left, nodding to herself. The girl was making good progress.

Nika'Jiin nar Qiraa had come to her six months ago a timid, defeated child, bearing a crushing burden of shame and debt. She had just begun her Pilgrimage, and had fallen prey to the first merc to take advantage of her youth and gullibility. Though she refused to speak of what he'd done to her, Deena could guess by her reactions to the subject—and it made her blood boil.

By some miracle, Nika had escaped the merc's clutches, but only to find herself alone in Nos Astra, ill and destitute. Desperate, she had sold herself into indentured servitude as a last-ditch effort to get back on her feet.

When she had first encountered the girl on the trading floor, Deena had taken pity on her instantly. And when she'd learned Nika was an accomplished programmer and hacker, her decision was made. Deena had purchased her contract then and there, on the condition that, when it was up, Nika stay on as her employee at least until she'd earned enough to bring a truly memorable gift back to the Migrant Fleet.

So for now, Nika was Deena's cybersecurity specialist. While she could never take Cecilia's place in Deena's heart, she could at least fill the open position in Deena's operation. And in the past several months, she had begun to blossom into a competent, more confident young woman.

Just before she disappeared from view, Nika stopped short. "Oh! Excuse me, sir," she mumbled shyly. Deena chuckled to herself. Nika still had a ways to go in the confidence department.

"My apologies, young selle," a familiar voice reassured her. "Have a pleasant evening."

Deena breathed a sigh of relief as Nika stepped aside to allow the newcomer to enter the office. "Thane!" she greeted him as she stood. "I would say it's good to see you, but under the circumstances…"

He nodded, his brow ridge knotting. "I hope you are well, Deena."

She shrugged. "I won't say it hasn't been hard," she admitted, "but I'm keeping it together well enough."

It wasn't entirely true. She'd hardly had a decent night's sleep in the past eight months. Even now, her bed still felt cold and empty at night. But now was not the time for such self-pity. "How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I am well, thank you," Thane lied smoothly, evidently taking his cue from her. No doubt he'd seen right through her, just as she did him.

He coughed into his fist, then tucked his hands behind his back, his face carefully blank. "I received your message. Are you certain Ceris is alive?"

"I wouldn't have contacted you if I wasn't." Deena drew a deep breath and swallowed hard. "I spoke with her myself. She insists on meeting with you—alone."

"And the…" Thane's impassive façade cracked a little, just for an instant, a shadow of guilt and terror ghosting across his face before he shut it down again. "The child?"

Though her heart ached for him, Deena could only spread her hands. "I'm not certain. Ceris claims the baby is alive and well, but she wouldn't let me see her." She shook her head. "Thane, it's a trap. I'm sure of it."

"I agree," he replied. "Nevertheless, I will go to her."

"I was afraid you'd say that." Nervous energy demanding she move, Deena began to pace back and forth, wringing her hands. "Are you sure that's a good idea? She's been stringing you along like a nandas on a leash this whole time. Every move you've made has put you exactly where she wanted you."

But Thane would not be swayed. "I must put an end to this, Deena."

"And the only way to do that is to walk straight into her lair? You know what happened the last time you tried that!" Deena bit back a sob as his expressionless voice echoed in her memory, relaying in flat, stoic tones the tale of Cecilia's death. Her own voice came out thick and hoarse as she demanded, "What makes you think this time will be any different?"

"This time," he bit out sharply, "the only one with anything to lose is Ceris herself."

Damn him. When he started talking like that, there was no changing his mind. "At least let me come with you, then," she pleaded. "We made a good team on Cyone; maybe I could—"

"No." Thane shook his head once, decisively, the hard glint in his eyes brooking no argument. "This is something I need to do alone."

The simmering concoction of frustration and fear bubbling up inside her finally boiled over, and Deena stopped short to slam her hands down on her desktop, leaning over it and glaring at him. "Oh, spare me the tragic hero act!" she spat. "This isn't a storybook, Krios. You're not some 'deeply flawed character' on a redemption arc. This is real, and she will kill you. Then what is your family going to do?"

It was a cheap shot, perhaps, but it seemed to hit home. Thane froze for a moment, then bowed his head. "They will survive," he said quietly. "Which is more than I can guarantee if I let Geris go free." Looking up at her again with brow ridge pointedly quirked, he continued, "And besides that, I need you here. Dramatic though you think my methods to be, I do, in fact, have a contingency plan."

"Oh?" Deena straightened and folded her arms. "It better be a good one."

"I presume Ceris gave you her location?"

"She's here in the city—I have her exact coordinates." Deena opened her omni-tool and transmitted the information to Thane. "She threatened me with my life if I should share them with anyone but you, of course."

"Of course," he repeated drily. "I need you to coordinate with the Nos Astra police. Once I go in, give me ten minutes. If you don't hear from me by then, lead them to her."

Deena stared at him, wide-eyed. "That's your plan? Thane, the police force here keeps the peace, but they can't even rout out a nest of Eclipse. What makes you think they can take on Ceris and her commandos?"

"They can't," he said with a shrug. "But they can distract her long enough for you to escape Nos Astra. Though I don't know why, I do know that Ceris is after you as well. I don't want you to get hurt if I should fail."

The last of her anger drained away, and Deena slumped into her chair, her hands reaching out of their own accord to pull her computer closer. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Thane hummed softly. "As do I."

Anaya folded her arms and leaned back in her chair as the vidscreen flickered to life. "Miss T'Neri," she drawled. "I haven't heard a peep from you since your suspiciously expedited release. Calling to gloat, are we?"

"No, Detective," T'Neri replied wearily. "Believe me, under any other circumstances, I'd be staying well off your radar.

"Then to what do I owe the…" Anaya grimaced. "…dubious pleasure?"

T'Neri gritted her teeth, but declined to make a sarcastic comeback. "I have some information for you."

"Oh, you do?" Anaya straightened, interest piqued. "And what's it going to cost me?"

"Nothing," T'Neri replied. "Call it a peace offering."

Thane was greeted not by vorcha this time, but asari. Two commandos met him at the entrance to the compound wearing duty uniforms instead of armor, armed only with pistols which they kept holstered. They welcomed him, introducing themselves as Alinira and Niala, and escorted him to Ceris's chambers as a guest.

Rather than feeling reassured by all this, Thane remained on high alert. This was just another one of Ceris's manipulations, designed to throw him off-guard. He would not be lulled into complacency by a false show of hospitality.

When he entered Ceris's chambers, however, the scene that greeted him brought him up short. The room had been decorated in pastel shades of purple and blue, all rounded corners and soft edges. Quiet, chiming music filled the powder-scented air. It all stood in such sharp contrast to what he knew about her that for an instant, he doubted his own senses.

Even Ceris herself had changed, to the point where Thane hardly recognized her. Her features had been softened by pregnancy, and her eyes had lost their cruel, mocking glare. Gone were her boots and leathers and weapon holsters; she wore only a simple white linen shift, with a blanket draped over her lap. And she nursed an infant at her breast, beneath two round, puckered, pale purple scars.

She looked up at the commandos. "Thank you, Niala, Alinira," she said, and even her voice had lost its edge. "You are dismissed."

They hesitated, glancing from Thane back to Ceris. Alinira dared to speak up. "But, ma'am—"

Though Ceris's voice remained quiet, a little bit of authority crept back in as she snapped, "Get out."

The two commandos withdrew without another word, leaving Thane alone with Ceris.

And the baby.

Ceris met his eyes and smiled gently. "Thane," she said softly. "I hoped you'd come. I want you to meet your daughter." She gazed down at the infant and stroked her tiny head, her smile fading. "And… I want to apologize. Goddess, it sounds so stupid, after everything I did to you. But these past few days… I'm sure you know how parenthood changes you. I just… I don't want her to grow up in the kind of life I lived."

Thane said nothing, instead only studying her with narrowed eyes. She couldn't possibly be sincere—could she?

"I'm not looking for forgiveness," she continued, her voice quavering as tears welled up in her eyes. "Nothing I can do can make any of it right, I know that. It's just… when I saw her little face for the first time… well, any heart can be changed. Even mine." She swallowed hard, keeping her eyes fixed on the child. "Thane, I want you to—no, I was hoping you would want to be a part of her life. To truly be her father."

Her words set his head spinning, and Thane recoiled as he realized what she was asking. "You… you want me to take her?" he tried to demand, but his voice came out an incredulous whisper.

At the sound, the newborn unlatched from her mother's breast and turned wide, curious eyes up at him, delicate sapphire lips forming a tiny O as he met her gaze. She cooed, wriggling her little arms free to reach for him.

Thane found he couldn't look away. His heart pounded, his blood thundering in his ears as he stared, transfixed.

"She has your eyes," Ceris murmured, almost shyly, as she covered herself.

Perhaps that was true. The baby's eyes were a startling shade of green: a vanishingly rare trait in asari, and a far cry from her mother's pale gray. She stared up at him with that infinite wisdom peculiar to newborns, that gaze that spoke of many lifetimes past and many more to come. He could almost swear she recognized him.

No. Thane shook his head, as if he could clear his mind. He knew how asari reproduction worked. The child was not his literal flesh and blood; Ceris had merely used him as a template to rearrange her own genetic material. No, there was nothing of him in that baby.

But… was that any reason to reject her? Could a simple fact of asari biology justify leaving an innocent child in the arms of a monster?

Ceris stood, the blanket falling around her bare feet, and approached him slowly, almost hesitantly. A tear rolled down her cheek as she kissed the baby's forehead—and then held her out to him.

Thane stared for a moment, hardly believing, then allowed Ceris to place the child in his arms. Memories came flooding back of Kolyat at this size, with the same expression of wide-eyed wonder on his little face as he sucked on his tiny fist. The old habits of new parenthood slid easily back into place, and he rocked her gently, patting her back and whispering soothing words in her ear as she started to fuss. It only took a moment before she buried her face in his neck and drifted off to sleep.

He could do this. He would have to dig Kolyat's old crib out of storage. Probably pick up some bottles and formula before he left Illium—unlike drell children, asari babies didn't eat solid food for months, and such things would be difficult to find on Kahje. He and Irikah would raise her the same way they had Kolyat. Better.

Irikah would be… surprised, to say the least. Perhaps angry, at first, for bringing this on so suddenly. But he would explain everything, and surely she would understand. She would grow to love this child like her own.

Yes, it could be done. And as the baby's warm breath brushed feather-soft over his scales, her little hands clutching at his jacket, Thane actually found himself looking forward to it.

I have a daughter.

"What is her name?" he asked.

Ceris bowed her head, clasping her hands in front of her. "I… I haven't named her yet," she admitted. "I thought you might want the privilege."

Thane studied the baby's sleeping face, casting about for a name that would suit her. None of the asari names he knew felt appropriate, but most drell names didn't sit right, either. Finally, he settled on the Rakhish word kaiyah, "forgiveness." It was not exactly a name in his language, but with the asari spelling it seemed suddenly perfect. "Caia," he said quietly, stroking her soft, round cheek. "Her name is Caia."

"Caia Krios." Ceris spoke the name slowly, almost reverently, rolling it around in her mouth as if tasting it. "It's lovely." She drew a deep breath and raised her head to look at him, more tears spilling from her eyes as she held out her arms. "May I… may I say goodbye?"

Thane froze. All at once, he remembered just who he was speaking to, and the idea of handing his daughter to Aselda Ceris struck him with terror. He had a sudden, horrible mental image of her taking Caia and harming her, killing her, before his very eyes.

But at the same time… she was Caia's mother. And it was hard to reconcile the abject wretch before him with the monstrous acts she'd committed in the past.

She had been right about one thing: he knew very well how parenthood could change a person. To be utterly and entirely responsible for a tiny, innocent little life… it was a heady combination of confidence and panic that came crashing down on you the moment you first looked into those wide, trusting eyes. More than that, the sheer power and depth of love for that helpless little creature could sweep you away like the tides of the ocean when they fell asleep in your arms. It had a way of reorganizing one's priorities rather profoundly.

No. It wasn't enough. Ceris had proven herself too dangerous, too unstable, too accomplished at deception. Her apparent change of heart could well be another trick. And Thane was not prepared to stake Caia's life on the chance that it was not.

He clutched his daughter a little tighter and took a step back. "I'm afraid I must take my leave now," he said coldly.

"Oh, I don't think so." Ceris lowered her arms and drew herself up tall, her old maniacal grin spreading across her face. She glanced up at something high on the wall behind Thane and gave an exaggerated wink, and as if on cue, the door slid open. Two pairs of booted feet strode into the room, and before he could turn around, someone pressed the muzzle of a weapon to the small of his back. The other—Niala—stepped forward and handed Ceris a pistol.

Thane nodded grimly. "It would seem some hearts cannot be changed, after all."

Ceris laughed, loud and mocking. "This is why I do so love toying with you, Krios," she gloated. "Always so ready to believe the best in people. It's going to get you in real trouble someday." She shook her head, her laughter devolving into a snarl. "Did you really think I'd let you take another daughter from me?"

"Another?" Thane blinked at her, uncomprehending. "Ceris, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar!" she screamed, and Caia woke and began to wail. "I saw her face in your mind! I saw the look in her eyes as you snapped her neck! I heard your sanctimonious little 'prayers for the wicked.' Don't you dare try to tell me you don't remember!" Her voice broke and more tears poured down her face. "She was eighty-five years old, Krios. Hardly more than a child."

That could still be any one of a number of contracts he'd taken over the years. "Ceris, you know who I am. What I am," he protested. "Would you have me apologize? I am sorry it was your daughter my employer targeted. I am sorry that her death has caused you so much pain. But nothing you can do to me—or to Caia—will ease it, nor bring her back."

"Spoken like a man who's never lost anything in his life," Ceris hissed. "But you will. I swear to the Goddess, you will." She leveled the pistol at him, aiming right through Caia's back. "Now give her to me before I shoot you both dead."

Instinctively, Thane moved his hands to shield the baby—not that it would make a difference should Ceris actually fire. But she was bluffing, she had to be. Threatening Caia didn't make sense. But then, she was no more stable now than she'd been before her "death;" it seemed the intervening months had served only to let her become even more unhinged. Thane realized with a chill that she may no longer be capable of forming the same kind of loving bond she'd had with her first daughter. Caia might really be nothing more to her than a bargaining chip.

There was no other choice. "Promise me she'll be unharmed," he said.

Ceris laughed. "You are in no position to make demands, Krios. But, fine. Just hand her over now."

Arashu, forgive me. Swallowing hard, Thane pressed a kiss to the top of Caia's head. "Be brave, ashi," he whispered. "I will come back for you. I swear it."

And slowly, hesitantly, he surrendered her to her mother.

Ceris cradled her in one arm, and with the other, she kept her pistol trained on Thane. She grinned wickedly. "The baby will be unharmed," she declared, "if you complete a contract for me."

Thane stiffened, a knot of ice in the pit of his stomach. He kept his eyes fixed on Caia. "A contract?"

"Yes, a contract," Ceris snapped. "A murder—sorry, an assassination. It's what you do, isn't it? It's who you are. What you are."

He gritted his teeth at hearing his own words thrown back at him. "Who would you have me kill?"

He dreaded hearing the answer, but if it kept Caia safe—

Ceris cackled with sadistic glee. "Deena T'Neri."