Chapter Twenty
The Dying of the Light
2205 CE
Nevos, Teyolia System
As Jack's gaze darts from side to side, her carefully honed instincts kick in. She assesses the situation. There are grey walls hemming her in on all sides. There's one window, one door, but her routes to both exits are blocked. It feels like the small space is crowded with people in white coats. They are wearing strange expressions. Some are even smiling. All of their expressions are obviously fake.
Jack is struck by a sudden realisation so obvious she doesn't know how it escaped her. She remembers where she is.
Pragia!
That simple name conjures up a myriad of emotions – all of them terrifying. She doesn't know how these fuckers lured her back to this hellhole, but she'll die before she remains imprisoned here for another second.
"I will destroy you!" she yells.
Her voice sounds deafening in the small space. It thrills her to see the smiles disappear from the faces of the white-coated monsters. The terror that Jack had previously felt, is now reflected on their faces.
"That's right, fuckers!" Just wait until they see what she can do. "Back the fuck up. Every last one of you!"
Jack reaches out to embrace the joyous dark energy that has radiated throughout her body for as long as she has known. It is there. She grins as she reaches for it. Her body thrums with anticipation. Jack flares. Her body is enveloped in its comforting corona, but there's an accompanying pain. Her hold on the field wavers, but she simply grinds her teeth together and pushes through it. She can smell the fear in the room now, it practically drips from them.
A cacophony of voices run together. "How is she doing that?…She shouldn't be able to flare!...What dose did you administer?"
They are backing away from her, almost falling over themselves in an effort to get to the door. Jack wants to enjoy the moment, but the pain is almost splitting her apart. Rather than relinquish her field, she draws strength from the pain. It is glorious.
Jack is suddenly aware of a new voice. This one is composed, unafraid.
"Leave the room, slowly, all of you."
The owner of the voice steps through the crowd of white coats. Jack does not recognise the woman, but she knows her type. Haughty, immaculate, superior.
Jack scowls. "I'd leave the room with the rest of your cronies unless you want to end up smeared across the wall!"
The woman smiles with white teeth. Unlike the others, the smile does not look fake. This simply makes the woman even more dangerous. Her smile is practiced and calculating.
"You already tried that, Jack. Do you remember?" she asks. "Normandy, engineering deck? If Shepard hadn't talked us down, we likely would have torn the ship apart."
The woman is speaking nonsense. The Normandy? Shepard? The words mean nothing to Jack.
"Piss off."
"I know this is hurting you, Jack," her words drip with false sincerity. "Please let go, or you will only cause yourself more pain."
The woman takes another step forward, further into the room, closer to Jack. "Stop right there, bitch, or I'll show you exactly what Cerberus' money bought!"
But she doesn't stop. Jack isn't going to warn her twice. With a cry of rage, she sends a shockwave of dark energy careening towards the dark-haired woman. Within the small space, the effect is profoundly violent. The shockwave rips up the tiled floor, sending clouds of dust into the air. The woman has a split second in which to react, she throws up a biotic shield. The two fields collide, but Jack's is stronger. There's a crack and a cry of pain as the woman hits the wall. She then slumps to the floor.
Jack's corresponding cry is just as anguished. The sheer joy of manipulating dark energy is replaced by a head-splitting pain. Her hold on the energy slips from her grasp and her corona dissipates. While the pain lingers, it is swallowed by her intense rage. She knows that they have deliberately neutered her to keep her under control.
Opposite Jack, the woman is gingerly lifting herself into a sitting position. She touches a hand to the back of her head. Jack grins as her hand comes away bloody. The white coats are hovering nervously in the open doorway. They're hedging their bets as to whether it is safe to enter.
"Stay there!" Still trying to play the hero, the woman throws up a hand as she rises to her feet. She turns her attention back to Jack. "Jack, please, you are not in danger."
Jack sways on her feet. She is drunk on rage, pain and violence. The woman's words are little more than nonsense. Jack tries to flare again, pushing through the pain. But there is nothing to grab onto. She glares at the now standing woman, nostrils flaring. With a primal howl, Jack launches herself forward. She finds satisfaction in the raw feeling of her knuckles against the woman's mouth, even if there's not enough strength behind the swing to knock her off her feet. Jack overbalances herself and she's too exhausted to arrest her fall It's her turn to hit the floor. There is nothing dignified about the way her body folds like a ragdoll. Sensing blood, the white coats swarm into the room.
Jack lets out a primal howl of rage. Her small fists fly, catching jaws, eyes, stomachs – anywhere she can land a punch. They're trying to pin her to the ground. She imagines herself summoning a wave of dark energy large enough to throw them all against the wall in unison. Instead she gives herself a bloody nose. She tastes the salty tang of blood on her lips. There are too many of them and the last of her strength has fled. It's laughable how easily they hold her down. A sharp stab in her arm follows as punishment for her weakness.
One of the whitecoats is on the far side of the room, attending to Jack's 'opponent.'
"Are you alright, Dr Lawson?"
"I'm fine, help Jack," is the terse reply.
Jack tries to hold onto consciousness but the harder she tries, the easier it slips from her grasp. Her heartbeat is gradually slowing in her chest. Even as her vision swims in front of her, it becomes easier to orientate her thoughts. She stares at her arms, her hands, every inch of skin covered with tattoos. She remembers now. They are tattoos earned through her life experiences. Her story written in ink on her skin She's not a child anymore. She's not on Pragia. She left that hellhole a long time ago.
Oh. Apart from the time she went back to blow it the fuck up. Pragia is gone now. She is somewhere else. Somewhere safe. Just as the raven-haired woman promised.
The medical staff are no longer pinning her down now. There's no need. Whatever shit they pumped into her is doing its job. Her limbs feel like rubber. She flops onto her back, feeling unconsciousness enveloping her like a blanket.
Jack turns her head. From her viewpoint, she can see the woman she attacked moving towards her. Jack listens to her heels on the tiled floor. Click, click, click. Each step is purposeful and direct. There's no hesitation or fear. For a moment, all Jack can see are the shoes and a pair of pale ankles beneath dark trousers. Then, there are hands on her body as the medical staff gently lift her. Jack's limp body is out of her control, her limbs entirely uncooperative. They place her with care on her bed. The heels click again, coming closer.
She fights against unconsciousness, just for a moment, long enough to see the face of the person standing over her. Somehow, the woman's hair looks perfect. She's still flawless, save for the line of blood trickling down her chin from where Jack's fist has split her lip open.
Despite this, Miranda Lawson is staring down at Jack with nothing but compassion.
Fuck. There was a time, long ago, when she'd wanted to hit Miranda more than anything else. That time has long since passed.
"Forgive me?" The whisper escapes from her lips as darkness closes in.
The last thing Jack feels is a warm hand caressing her cheek. A gentle whisper accompanies her into unconsciousness.
"There's nothing to forgive, Jack."
2208 CE
Zephyr Coast, Thessia
The Zephyr Coast was famous for its white beaches and glorious weather. For most of the year, visitors came to enjoy the sultry days and the light breeze for which the coast was named. In summer, that breeze was fragrant with the scent of eris trees in bloom, mingled with the tang of salt. It was a peaceful haven to unwind and relax. For those who lived there, it was usually a paradise.
Today was not one of those days.
From the moment Ash had stepped out of the space port, she had been welcomed by a torrential downpour. It was the kind of rain, she supposed, that might herald the end of the world. The sky was an ominous colour, almost black even though it was not yet midday. It hinted that the bad weather was here to stay. Now the rain it was doing its best to batter against her hired car. However, for all the effort expended, the water could not reach the windscreen without being instantly vaporised by the vehicle's water repellent system.
Ash had opted not to use the self-drive function. As the car wound its way along the coastal road towards her home she sat and watched the tumultuous beast that was the sea. Waves crashed against the beach with violent intent. In the distance, forked lightning stretched towards the water. It was the kind of weather that you couldn't draw your eyes from in case you missed something spectacular. Ash was disappointed that the car's sealed environment didn't allow hear to hear the waves crashing, or the wind whipping up into a frenzy.
With the vehicle responsible for seeing her safely home, Ash could focus her attention on putting a call through to Kef. Ash loved surprising her kids, but her good sense had made her consider the first impression that returning home alone, without Liara, would give them.
{Nice to hear from you, boss.}
"It's good to hear your voice too Kef," Ash replied with genuine feeling. The two of them had consistently spent long stretches of time together over the years. She had missed being around the forthright asari.
{I was beginning to think one of those Reapers you were chasing had barbequed your ass.}
Ash couldn't help but chuckle in response. "You're not far off the mark. And I've got another scar to add to the collection. This one's a real beauty."
{What?} Kef huffed irritably. {How in Athame's name did you let that happen? You're getting slow in your old age, Williams. It wasn't your kids that needed babysitting, it was you!}
"Perhaps. Although it's given me peace of mind, to know that you're there with them. I mean, Aethyta's great – she isn't listening in is she?"
It was Kef's turn to laugh. {Your father-in-law is a piece of work! And no, I just saw her taking Alice through some shotgun tactics in the conservatory. Goddess, she doesn't think very highly of you!}
"Yeah, I've missed that old battleaxe too." Ash dreaded having to have words with Aethyta about the whole shotgun thing. "She has her uses, being over a thousand definitely gives you a unique insight…and the kids love her to pieces, but I've never trusted her the way I trust you."
{You have to say that because I've got too much dirt on you. Speaking of this gig, don't take this the wrong way, but how much longer do you want me to stick around?}
"About an hour," Ash replied casually. "I'm on the coastal road heading home now."
{Oh,} was Kef's limited response.
"You sound disappointed?"
{I am!} Kef replied quickly, {Don't get me wrong, l usually love my job, but I haven't been shot at in over a month – unless you count toy darts. A merc could get used to this lifestyle.}
"Hey, you know you're welcome to stay on longer. Actually, the reason I was calling is that it's just me coming home. I wanted to ask you to tell Alice and Theda in advance to expect me. I didn't want to scare them by turning up alone. Liara's fine, but she stayed behind on Shepard Station."
{Huh, you're cleverer than you look, Williams. Consider it done. They'll be excited out of their little heads.} Kef replied. {So about that offer to stay on?}
"Well, with me being on my lonesome and two really troublesome kids to look after…I'll take all the help I can get." Ash tried to suppress her relief at Kef's decision. If events worsened with the Reapers, she would be grateful for the presence of her friend on the estate. "I guess I just thought you'd be impatient to get the hell out of here and away from my kids. Back to your own life."
{What life?} Kef replied self-disparagingly. {Sitting around my house with memories of my dead bondmate everywhere I look? Drinking myself into a stupor every chance I get?}
Ash suddenly felt wretched. "Kef, I didn't think…"
{Sorry, boss, didn't mean to get all dark on you there. I was just trying to make it clear that I've really got nothing better to do,} Kef continued, having pushed her funk behind her. {And your kids are sort of okay. They turned out better than I would've expected for your spawn.}
"Hey, that offer is completely retractable, Gavin," Ash quipped. "Let's see…I'll see you in just under an hour. If you can, try and keep 'my spawn' inside when the car pulls up. I don't want them coming out to greet me in this weather."
{Gotcha, boss. And I'll make sure there are still some cold beers left, although with the way your father-in-law drinks…}
In less than an hour, as predicted, Ash's car pulled to a halt outside her home. It became immediately apparent that there were limits to Kef's discipline. The car door was still lifting open when Alice and Theda came barrelling out of the house and into the torrential rain. Ash caught a glimpse of Kef standing helplessly on the threshold moments before she was engulfed in two pairs of arms. The rain beat mercilessly against the three of them, but it could do nothing to separate the hug. Ash did her best to shield their small bodies with her own, even as she felt her clothing soaked through in seconds. In their excitement, Alice and Theda were impervious to the weather. Their wet faces pressed against Ash's neck. She felt their lips moving as they spoke, but she heard nothing over the roar of the weather.
When Ash became aware of the rain soaking through to her skin, she picked up both children, hoisting one beneath each arm. They squealed with delight as she carried them, jogging to get them all inside as quickly as possible. They collapsed in a tangle of limbs in the foyer, a puddle quickly spreading out on the tiles. Theda snuggled into Ash's chest, refusing to be budged even as Kef tucked a towel around her small shoulders. In contrast, Alice stepped back. Ash could almost feel her eldest daughter's piercing gaze as she studied her. With a sombre expression, Alice reached out towards the scars on Ash's face. Her small fingers traced them. Ash ignored the twinge of pain as she let Alice come to terms with what had happened.
"Was mother hurt too?" Alice asked quietly.
Ash shook her head. "Not a scratch. Your mother is far cleverer and faster than your slow old Dad."
"At least you're being honest for once, Williams," Aethyta announced in lieu of a greeting as she sauntered into the foyer. "And if I can be honest with you? Those scars don't do anything for your looks. Come on you two, give your father some space. Alice, did you leave your shotgun lying around?"
Alice looked mortified. She nodded, and then dashed in the direction of the conservatory.
"Please tell me you did not give my daughter a shotgun?" Ash demanded.
Aethyta was unconcerned. "I took out the clip."
"And I took out the firing mechanism," Kef added sagely.
Aethyta scoffed as she gathered Theda up in her arms. "Let me tell you, Williams, this one-" she pointed at Kef "-is just as square as you."
"Got it!" Alice ran back into the hall, brandishing an antique Katana shotgun that had seen better days.
"Brilliant," Aethyta drawled. "Now get your butt upstairs."
With both children being chided upstairs to the sounds of Aethyta's gruff tones, Kef held out her hand towards Ash. "Glad to have you back, boss."
"Seriously?" Ash looked at the proffered hand and shook her head. "We are way past that."
Instead, she drew her friend into an embrace. It was warm, but quick, just the right length for two old friends. Ash drew back and allowed herself a moment to drink in the familiar surroundings of her home.
"What was it like?" Kef asked quietly.
Ash shook her head. All trace of mirth fled from her body. "It was hell, Kef. For a time, it took me right back to the worst days of the War. I don't want my daughters to ever experience anything like that."
"They won't, Ash. Someone will find a way, just like last time," Kef said with a certainty that she couldn't promise. "Now go get dry, you humans have piss poor immune systems."
Ash put on a grin for Kef, but as she walked up the stairs, following the thumps of Alice and Theda's feet as they ran towards the bathroom, she felt the familiar weight of dread settle on her shoulders.
Something was coming, and she doubted whether there was anything that they could do to stop it.
Shepard Station, Zion Orbit, Utopia System
Liara lifted her mug of tea to her lips, only to be forced to spit it out again when she found it to be completely cold. She set it down in disgust and checked her chrono. To her surprise, she realised they had been working for almost ten hours straight. She remembered mechanically eating a light meal several hours ago, but she and Traynor had been in deep discussion about Reaper movement patterns at the time, so it hardly counted as a break.
With a sigh, she pushed her chair back from her console and spun around. She found Traynor slumped over her own console, snoring softly. Liara stood, hearing her bones creak in protest. The first few steps required some effort to remain upright, then walking became easier as her muscles remembered how.
"Samantha?" she said softly, shaking Traynor by her arm.
"What!" Traynor sat up with a start. Her elbow snapped out and knocked her own mug over. "Bollocks!" Thankfully the mug was empty. She looked up at Liara with a sheepish expression. "Not exactly settled a good example for the troops. It's definitely the firing squad for me."
Liara looked around the control room. It was the graveyard shift, with only half a dozen personnel working. All looked far too preoccupied to realise that their Admiral had fallen asleep.
"You've been here since 1800, Samantha. I think your body is simply telling you that you need to go home and rest," Liara pointed out sympathetically.
Traynor's shoulders slumped forward. "Home, how depressing."
"Is everything alright?"
"I said that out loud didn't I?" Traynor straightened her shoulders. "Sorry, yeah, everything is fine."
Traynor then pointedly fixed a determined expression on her face as she stared ahead at the control map. With a practised gaze, she studied the information, searching for alerts.
Liara followed Traynor's gaze. Even for all her own resources as the Shadow Broker, the extent of the Alliance's network was impressive. She was still trying to understand its totality.
"Larsson?" Traynor called out.
A blonde-haired young woman, a few consoles in front of them, turned and responded. "Yes, ma'am?"
"How are we looking? Any major movement?"
Larsson shook her head. "No, nothing. I don't want to jinx anything, but nothing has happened the whole shift, not even a single course change. It's almost boring…sorry, not that this job is ever really boring, ma'am."
"Boring is great," Traynor nodded. "Thank you, Larsson."
"It could just be the calm before the storm," Liara suggested. Although she did not relish playing the role of devil's advocate, she was very much a realist.
Traynor sighed. "We're all thinking it, I just didn't want to say it." She stared warily at the control map, as though just discussing it would act as a catalyst for another incident. Eventually, she clasped her hands together and used them to prop up her chin, a pensive expression on her face. "Liara, having seen what we do here, do you think we were idiots to ever think that we could herd the Reapers?"
"I do not know if herd is the correct label," Liara offered diplomatically. "But I think you were right to track them as you have been. Regardless of your lack of control, this structure imparts knowledge, and I am an avid proponent of the timeworn adage that knowledge is power. Such thinking has guided asari culture for millennia."
"You are kind to say," Traynor replied, not looking overly reassured.
Liara took a seat on the edge of the human woman's console. "Kindness has nothing to do with it, Samantha. From what I have observed, you can take much of the credit for the success of this project. Despite the anomalous nature of the Reaper incidents, this work – your work - has enabled lives to be saved."
"But how many more will be lost if this 'failure' that the two Reapers mentioned comes to pass - this Intelligence, whatever that might be, if it fails?"
Traynor suddenly sat up straight, her lips parted as she hovered on the verge of an idea.
"You look as though something came to mind?" Liara prompted her.
"What if…this Intelligence is the thing that controls the Reapers? It's the reason why they suddenly stopped following the firing of the Crucible? If such a thing is failing, it would stand to reason that they are reverting back to their Galaxy-cleansing ways."
Traynor looked up at Liara, waiting for her opinion, or a spark to trigger the next thought. Liara admired Traynor's enthusiasm.
"It has been proposed by a few scholars, but they remain on the fringes – lacking evidence to back their theories. The consensus is that no one mechanism could control a race so vast."
Traynor slumped back into her seat. "I know, it just never made sense to me. The Crucible fires and everyone expected the Reapers to be destroyed…instead they became this…benevolent race intent on helping us to rebuild." She paused and drew in a breath. "This is going to sound ridiculous…but when they found no trace of Shepard's body in the Crucible, well, I thought…maybe…"
"What?" Liara pressed, unclear as to where Traynor was going with her train of thought.
Sam shook her head, she responded with an apologetic smile. "No…its nothing. Just my tired little brain working overtime."
"Then we should call it an evening," Liara suggested. "I for one, would like to get out of this room."
What she desperately wanted, was to be able to step out of the room and be transported back to the Zephyr Coast. She wanted a sea breeze, carrying the sounds of her children's laughter to her ears. Instead, following the short tube journey back to the main ring, she had to make do with Shepard Station's artificial sky. As it was the depths of the night cycle, the panels were dark and studded with stars to simulate a night-time sky. The air however, carried nothing – courtesy of the station's scrubbers.
Liara and Traynor walked in a comfortable silence for a time. Both were clearly grateful for the chance to stretch their legs, as neither suggested hailing a taxi. For Liara, it was her first chance to see more of Shepard beyond the Reaper Hub. While lacking the Citadel's advanced alien technology, the station was still impressive. The human designers hadn't merely created a military outpost, they had created a home world. And all named for the woman who had given her life to ensure that humanity survived.
While the station was named after the Commander herself, Liara realised that the Alliance had taken inspiration from other sources to name more modest features.
"T'Soni Square?" Liara stared up at an illuminated sign with a bemused smile.
"Of course! I should have pointed that out," Traynor commented. "There are numerous streets named after Normandy vets – well, the uncontroversial ones at least."
"So, I would guess that there is no Williams Street?"
Traynor winced apologetically and shook her head.
"Most likely for the best. I believe Ashley would have torn the sign down with her bare hands," Liara said, she paused as stared up at her own name in lights, then studied the cluster of buildings hugging the handsomely appointed square beyond. "It is the restaurant district, is it not?"
"I'm afraid it is," Traynor sounded sheepish, perhaps expecting Liara to be offended.
Far from it, Liara was pleased that they had seen fit to use her name on something so practical and simple. The Armali City State had seen fit to name an administrative centre after her – one full of empty spaces and over-designed fountains. She was embarrassed every time she thought about it. "This is marvellous!"
Liara's comment clearly took Traynor by surprise. "Oh, I suppose it is, and there are some really great places to eat here." As if on cue, her stomach rumbled loudly. "I think I've moved past the point of being tired and into ravenous hunger."
"Then shall we eat?" Liara suggested, amused by the thought of eating somewhere that had been named after her. "Even if we run the risk of falling asleep in our food?"
She nodded in the direction of an all-night restaurant. Traynor's stomach gave another little rumble in the affirmative, even before she could open her mouth to reply. That set them both into a round of subdued laughter. Liara felt the day's tension ease as she placed an arm around Traynor's waist and steered her towards the restaurant.
They were the only customers in the small eatery, which meant that the proprietor was extremely attentive until their table was laden with food and a bottle of Eden Prime red. He then returned to his spot behind the bar and resumed watching an offstation biotiball game. The screen's volume was on low, but every so often the quiet roar of a crowd would fill the small space. His team were clearly doing badly, because each roar was accompanied by his increasingly despairing groans.
"I never did understand sports," Traynor commented in a bemused voice, before shovelling a forkful of biriyani into her mouth. She chewed for a moment, then stared down at her plate as though coming to a life-changing realisation. "Oh my god, this food is brilliant. Isn't this food brilliant?"
Liara smiled. It was brilliant in the way that a meal could be after hours without food. Otherwise it was decidedly average. "It is very satisfying." Her words were punctuated by a surprised yelp of excitement from the proprietor. They both looked up, long enough to share in his excitement. Liara was transported back to her childhood. "I was obsessed with sports for a short-time as a child – the Armali Archons. But it was only ever an attempt to fit in. After five years of pretending to like biotiball-"
"Five-years?" Traynor asked incredulously. "How is that a short time?"
"When your childhood lasts for decades, five-years seems relatively short," she explained with a shrug.
"Point taken. And did it help you make friends?"
Liara shook her head sadly. "I did not have many friends as a child. Although most children were polite to my face because of my family's standing, I knew they called me a disgusting pure blood behind my back. And there were some who felt emboldened enough to say it to my face."
Traynor frowned. "Pure-blood? Oh, because both your parents are…sorry, that must have been horrible for you."
"It was…difficult." Liara nodded. With all that she had experienced during the subsequent years it now seemed trivial, and a lifetime ago. "Although I had one close friend, Dasia Syros, who defended me. We grew up together, and…well, she was the first person I kissed."
Traynor's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Was she your first girlfriend…errr, asari-friend?"
Liara took another sip of the Eden Prime red. Despite the wine being cheap, it warmed her stomach. She shook her head. "It did not go beyond a few kisses. A childhood of taunting had made me feel that pure blood relationships were inherently wrong."
"Huh," Traynor commented with a thoughtful expression. "Kind of like how gay people were made to feel, going back a few centuries in Earth's history the persecution, death sentences in some countries. It seems ridiculously barbaric when looking back now. I'm grateful that things have changed, I don't think I would have been able to hide who I was – even though I was never very good at womanising."
"I find that difficult to believe," Liara laughed lightly, before returning to her food. She had to admit, the meal became better with every bite.
"No, trust me, I was way too shy," Traynor admitted. "And awkward, and terrible at conversation. Just a ship-wreck really!"
Liara swallowed another mouthful. The words resonated with her. "I think we were similar. I too struggled…socially, preferring the comfort of my studies. Then when I was shunned academically for my theories about the Protheans, it became all too easy to retreat into my work – for decades."
"Until you met Ashley?" Traynor pressed. Having not served on the Normandy SR-1, she had not been privy to their courtship.
Liara groaned. "That was almost a disaster."
"I refuse to believe that Ashley Williams was shy!" Traynor leaned forward eagerly.
"She was when it came to romance! We spent months tiptoeing around each other, sharing nothing more than these ridiculous…longing glances. She almost drove me insane!" Liara shook her head at how agonising it all had been. "It would have undoubtedly ended like that if not for Shepard giving Ash a firm prod in my direction."
"That's adorable," Traynor commented with a grin.
"It was…although…our relationship has not all been eris trees in bloom." Liara took a long sip of wine. She was finding it almost effortless to talk to the human woman. "I…struggled with motherhood for a long time and I lost myself to my work. It drove Ash and I apart for many years."
"I know exactly what you mean, work has ruined every relationship that ever mattered to me," Traynor smiled sadly. She bit her lip, as though debating whether to say something, before plunging ahead, "Robin sent through divorce papers yesterday – she waits until the potential end of the world to send through bloody divorce papers!"
"I am sorry, Samantha," Liara said with sincerity. "How are your children taking everything?"
Traynor shrugged. "I haven't spoken to them for weeks, I tried, but I think they're siding with Robin and I don't blame them. You know…sometimes…I wonder if everything would have been easier if I had left this life behind when Oriana Lawson asked me to all those years ago."
"You dated Miranda's sister?" Liara asked with a frown. "Oh, how could I forget – the two of you met at Shepard's party?"
Traynor's cheeks went red. "I'm afraid our public display of affection was a bit much."
"It was the middle of the War." Liara was nonchalant. She remembered her own behaviour that night had been far from exemplary. As the party was winding down, she and Ash had made the most of Shepard's hot tub and a securely locked door. It had been…memorable. "You were young. We were all young."
Traynor looked thoughtful. "Do you wonder whether you should have given it all up? The power?" She stopped short of mentioning Liara's work.
"I have asked myself that many times," Liara admitted. Especially in the depths of the night, when the weight of being the Shadow Broker felt like it was crushing her and she realised she had not seen her children for a week, despite residing in the same house. "Although of course we would have to simply stand by and watch the Galaxy fall apart at times like this…"
"There is peace of mind to be found in ignorance," Traynor suggested.
"Perhaps." Liara drained the remainder of the wine in her glass. "Although ignorance is a luxury I have not been able to afford for many years. And now, I would not be able to stand by and let all of this happen."
Traynor nodded in agreement, then her expression slipped into a wince. "Oh god, listen to us, we have one glass of red wine and we're descending into a pit of doom and gloom! Well, it is kind of gloomy…the Reapers…I'm getting divorced." She stopped and reached for the bottle of wine, fixing a determined smile in place. "But we're here, having this fine meal…and you have an amazing bondmate and two adorable kids…well, I suppose they're adorable, you've never shown me any pictures! C'mon, let's see these sprogs of yours."
Liara brightened and immediately started tapping on her omni-tool. She brought up a video clip of Alice and Theda playing petalida with Ash, while Traynor poured them another glass of wine each. Although the tug of guilt at the back of Liara's mind told her that she should be working, she reasoned with it by saying that there was little they could do.
What was the point of saying the galaxy, if not for moments when two old friends could share a bottle of wine together?
Nevos, Teyolia System
The taxi had barely come to a halt when Miranda palmed the door mechanism impatiently. The door was rising too slowly, so she pushed it manually. Her every movement was about haste. She took the steps up to the Institute two at a time, ignoring her cramped, protesting muscles.
Her entrance was not glamorous. She had barely slept and was wearing a hideous purple jumpsuit. It was all that she had been able to find in her size at Armali's spaceport before her hurried departure. Her evening dress was stuffed into the small bag she carried. None of it mattered. Her sole concern was reaching Jack's side. Now that her journey was nearly at an end, apprehension held her heart in an icy grip.
The sombre reception staff waved her straight through. Miranda found Dr Maida waiting for her outside Jack's room. He had obviously received word that she had arrived.
"Miranda!" He looked as tired as she felt. "Thank you for coming. You must have made good time?"
"I did." Miranda had no interest in going into the specific detail around the asari pleasure vessel that she hired to bring her back to Nevos. She had spent the journey pointedly ignoring the stripper's pole in the back. "How is she?"
"She's not in any pain for the time being," he offered.
From his expression, Miranda knew that was the extent of the good news. "But it is only a matter of time?"
"Following the withdrawal of the treatment, her cells immediately started to degrade at an accelerated rate. Given that it is still experimental, we just did not have the data – I'm sorry, Miranda."
She shook her head, "You shouldn't have to apologise, Jose. You couldn't predict this…I didn't predict this."
Maida dropped his gaze. Only then did Miranda realise that this would not be her loss alone. Jack was the longest standing resident of the Institute. She had been infuriating and delighting staff for eight years. As limited as her world had become, Jack had impacted the lives of those around her in countless ways. Miranda opened her mouth to say something, but the right words would not come. Instead, she and Maida stood in the corridor in silence.
Eventually, Maida drew in a breath and composed himself. "You can go in whenever you like. She's expecting you."
"She is?"
"Well, I had to tell her that I'd contacted you," Maida admitted.
"And how did she take that?" Knowing Jack as well as she did, Miranda expected that Jack would have resented being 'told on.'
"Surprisingly well. I think she was counting on it."
Because she wants to say goodbye, Miranda realised.
This really was it. Maida did not say anything further. He simply offered up a small nod before shuffling away. Miranda was left alone in the corridor outside Jack's door. Her hand reached towards it, before she drew it back as though burned. As long as she remained outside the door, she did not have to face the reality of what was waiting for her. She pressed her back to the wall and closed her eyes.
There was nothing she could do to better prepare herself. She struggled to describe the way she felt. It felt like absolute desolation tinged with raw anger and a distinct sense of helplessness. And there was grief. Pervading everything, was the deadweight of guilt. For all the time and money she'd spent over the past decade, she hadn't been able to undo the damage that Cerberus had done to Jack's body. She'd merely prolonged the inevitable. It wasn't fair. For the first time in her life, Miranda felt complete. After allowing herself to be governed by the machinations of her inception and then her regret for so long, she had finally broken free. She was honestly happy. And she desperately wanted Jack to be a part of that new life.
Footsteps further down the corridor jolted her out of her thoughts. She forced herself to find some measure of composure – or at least a mask to hide everything behind. She drew in a breath and opened the door.
Jack's room wasn't the gloomy setting she'd expected – or needed. Instead it was bathed in warm sunlight gently filtering through the windows. A fresh scent hung in the air. The wallscreen was on. Miranda immediately recognised the film as one of the Blasto movies – Jack's favourite. The optimistic setting contrasted against the small shape, almost swallowed by the bed. Miranda fought to keep from bursting into tears. Jack had regressed further than ever before.
Instead, she fixed a compassionate smile in place, and moved towards the bed with purpose.
Upon seeing Miranda, Jack's sunken, pale face brightened immediately. "Hey, Cheerleader." Her voice was reed thin. "Nice outfit."
Miranda sat gently on the edge of the bed. She took one of Jack's hands in both of her own. "Hey, you psychotic little shit."
Jack grinned weakly. "Haven't called me that…for ages."
"Because I thought you'd come to your senses." Miranda tried to keep her tone light. "Clearly you're just as pig-headed as ever."
In that moment, being in the room with Jack, Miranda could not escape the fact that she was there because Jack was dying. In a matter of weeks, or days, this woman - this friend…ex-lover…family – would no longer be in her life. As difficult as it was, Miranda couldn't look anywhere else. Despite Jack's wasted frame, her eyes were still vibrant and alert. There was still life there. So much life. The sounds of the film filled the room.
"Screen off," Jack said quietly.
The image of a gun-toting hanar winked out and they sat in silence for a few moments. Miranda struggled for the right words.
"Jack. Why?" Miranda needed to understand. "Why did you stop taking the medication?"
"Tired," Jack replied simply.
The pithy answer did not satisfy her. "You were stabilising, improving even. The treatment was everything I hoped for. It offered a future."
"Whose future?" Jack asked sadly.
A fresh wave of guilt hit Miranda. She lowered her gaze. It had never been Jack's future that she was thinking about, it was her own. She wanted Jack to be a part of she hadn't given any thought to was the role that Jack was supposed to play. Pet science project? Conscience absolver? Was trying to heal Jack her way of doing penance for all the wrongs she had committed whilst working for Cerberus?
"I'm…sorry."
"Stop saying sorry-" Jack paused to draw in a rattling breath "- or I'll smear you across the wall."
She looked up again, met Jack's gaze. The other woman's eyes were shining with mirth.
"In your dreams, bitch," Miranda replied with mock seriousness.
Miranda reached out and cupped Jack's cheek, before tenderly rubbing her thumb against Jack's drawn skin. The movement reminded her of a question she had once asked Jack. A lifetime ago. Her brow furrowed. Had she made a mistake by not pursuing Jack more aggressively? They had wasted so many years, when they could have spent them together.
"What's eating you?" Jack sensed her unease.
"Regrets. Wondering what would have happened if you'd said yes to me that day on Grissom." She paused, thoughtful, before continuing. "We could have been married. The sex was already dreadful, and we would have quite happily hated each other for the rest of our lives."
Jack tried to laugh, but her thin body just shook slightly. She shook her head. "I'm not the marrying kind."
"No shit."
"But fucking you wasn't dreadful," Jack admitted. "And I loved you."
That was new. Miranda was crestfallen. "Jack…"
"Don't look at me like that." Jack interrupted; her voice suddenly sounded stronger. "Fucking familial love – platonic and shit. Not the gooey-eyed way you loved Shepard."
It emerged so simply. Just a matter of fact statement. Shocked, Miranda sat with her lips parted, unable to speak for several long moments. How the hell did Jack know about her and Shepard? Had she seen something? Overheard something? Perhaps she had said something in her sleep during that one night she and Jack had spent together.
Miranda eventually realised that it was nothing so banal. "Of course, you knew."
"I know you. Too well."
"I never told anyone," Miranda continued in a tremulous voice. "Not even the person who needed to know most of all. Especially not that person."
"How long…were you…"
Miranda smiled ruefully, tears stinging at her eyes at the thought of having to admit the truth. "Almost from the beginning – if you could ever love a charred corpse." It hadn't happened while staring at Shepard's remains. Instead, it had happened while she researched the woman that Shepard had been. As she consumed endless hours of vid footage and biographical data. Falling first for the idea of a person. She sighed, seeing that Jack was eagerly waiting for her to continue. "Then she opened her eyes on Lazarus Station, and I found myself drawn in. It wouldn't have mattered if the bloody woman didn't feel the same way, I could've ignored it. Then I found out she was in love with me. I had to use every iota of my resolve to stop myself from giving in. I told myself it couldn't happen and built walls, came up with excuses, or just lied to her. I thought, if anything were to happen, it could wait until we'd finished saving the Galaxy. How the hell was I supposed to know that the idiot was going to get herself killed?"
She squeezed her eyes shut to keep from crying, but it had little effect. The tears found a way and streamed down her cheeks. Just admitting how she had felt to another person was like a weight lifting from her shoulders. When she opened her eyes again, she found Jack's expression nothing but compassionate. "I've spent the past two decades asking myself whether it would have been worth it to spend even a little time with her."
"You're a fucking idiot," Jack observed.
"I am a fucking idiot," Miranda agreed. The tears gave way to uncontrollable laughter. It felt good to finally admit something she had been hiding from for so long. The she realised she had made everything about herself again, when this time should have been about Jack. "I've been so selfish."
Jack let out a weak snort. "Bitch please, You're the most unselfish person I know."
"I never asked you what you wanted, Jack, it's always-"
"Shut up, Miri," Jack interrupted. "Let me say…my piece. Explain why I stopped taking that shit. I've been wasting away for years. I've been grateful for every moment you've given me-"
"It wasn't me-" Miranda tried to say.
Jack shook her head. It lolled from side to side on her skeletal neck. "No, it was you. All you. You were the only one who gave a fuck. Besides Shepard, you were the only one who ever gave a fuck about me." It was clearly an effort for Jack to speak, but she drew in another rattling breath and pressed on. "Yes I was stable, I could live for another few years as an invalid, but I'm tired of living like this. I'm ready to die…and I want to do it on my own terms."
Miranda closed her eyes. Tears still managed to squeeze beneath her eyelids. "Please…reconsider."
"C'mon, you know how stubborn I am. I've made my mind up. It's time."
When Miranda opened her eyes, her vision was blurred with tears. She blinked a few times so she could see clearly. Jack was staring at her with a burning intensity.
"Will you help me end it?" Jack asked.
"There are…options," Miranda forced the words out. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but this was one situation where she did not have the option of saying no. Jack could pass without pain. It would be quiet and dignified.
"I am not dying in my bed," Jack said, managing to inject some vehemence into her voice. "Remove my bio-blockers."
"What? No way in hell!" The reply was automatic, accompanied by a firm shake of her head. Jack's simple request told her everything she needed to know. Jack wanted to go out the way she had lived – boldly and violently. "Even if I wanted to, you know I can't facilitate something like that. I'm a doctor. It's my duty to follow the prescribed, legal means for assisting someone to end their life. Please don't ask this of me, Jack."
Jack's disappointed stare said more than words ever could. Miranda felt herself being drawn in, and she had to look away or she knew she would fall to pieces. She was still shaking her head when Jack spoke.
"Miri…you've done more for me than…anyone. I am asking you to do this…last thing for me?"
Somehow, Jack found the strength to grip Miranda's fingers. It lasted only for a few seconds, but it was enough to convey just how desperately Jack wanted this. It was the last thing Miranda wanted.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, Miranda nodded. "Yes…I will."
The consequences had potentially huge ramifications, but they could all be damned. All of this – the Institute, developing new treatments - had only ever been about Jack. It wasn't that Miranda did not care about the lives of others, she simply loved Jack more.
Despite Miranda's fears, it was almost too easy. There were no questions as she requisitioned a laser scalpel and anaesthetic. No one at the Institute could deny her anything. The removal of the implant in Jack's neck that blocked her biotic abilities was minor surgery at best. They'd both stared for a moment at the bloody, tiny device in her hand before she'd thrown it in the bin.
Even when she'd lifted Jack into her chair and pushed her towards the exit, the staff accepted her explanation. Jack had wanted a last walk in the sunshine. Dr Maida had nodded and smiled obligingly. No one would deny Jack that last pleasure.
They walked in silence for a time. Jack was slumped in her chair behind her dark glasses. Miranda had insisted on covering her legs with a blanket. As they walked, Miranda tried to think of something to say. There were so many things. They could reminisce on everything that they had shared together – their transition from mortal hatred to something that defied labels. Miranda wanted to tell Jack how happy she was with Nea, that she saw a future for herself with the asari – potentially even leading to them bonding. It was much too soon to talk about children…but Miranda couldn't deny that the idea had taken root at the back of her mind. She wanted to share that wild dream with Jack, to have her friend tease her mercilessly.
It was all redundant. There would be no future with Jack in it.
When Miranda reached the spot at which she and Jack had gone skinny-dipping what seemed like an eternity ago, she knew she could stop. No words passed between them as she tenderly lifted Jack out of the chair. Jack was no weight at all as she carried her up a small, grassy rise. She set Jack down, careful to support her frail body, as she took up position behind her. Like a pair of old lovers, they sat, Miranda's arms wrapped around Jack, Jack's head leaning back against her shoulder.
"Promise me…something?"
"Anything." There was nothing Jack could ask of her that would be too much.
"Don't mourn me."
Okay, anything but that. "Jack…"
"Fine…you can blubber about it for a bit but get over it quickly. Live your life…like the badass bitch I know you are. Promise?"
Miranda realised she was smiling. Was she ever going to find someone who would be as honest with her as Jack? "I promise, Jack. I promise."
They remained like that. Miranda closed her eyes and eventually lost track of time, but she didn't care. She didn't want the moment to come to an end. The moments in their shared history filtered through her mind. She cherished each one. Remembering the charged atmosphere when they'd faced each other over Cerberus' lies, prepared to kill one another. The moment that it had all changed when Jack had saved her life during the assault on the Collector base. When they had saved each other in the ashes of the new world.
"Cheerleader?"
Jack wanted to go. Miranda clutched the frail body of her friend for a few last moments, as though she could anchor Jack, keep her here somehow. Then the moment passed, and she was disentangling their limbs. Jack couldn't support her own body weight, so Miranda laid her gently in the grass and stepped back.
"Fuck, I can feel it," Jack whispered ecstatically.
Moments later, Jack was enveloped in a brilliant blue corona. It was so intense that Miranda had to look away at first. Jack used her biotics to lift her body, raising herself to standing. The blanket fell away, leaving her clad in her hospital pyjamas.
"I'd forgotten," Jack whispered, her eyes shining.
Miranda stared at Jack. In those moments, she was her old self – bristling with pent up energy, ready to unleash herself on anyone stupid enough to get in her way. Her illness seemed to melt from her face, her skin was full and vibrant. Before Miranda could realise what she was doing, she was laughing with delight. This was Jack – every glorious bit of her.
"Better throw up some shields, Cheerleader!" Jack yelled, even her voice was just like the Jack of old, brimming with confidence.
Miranda embraced her own biotics, encasing herself within a shield, even as Jack's corona started to radiate outwards.
"You can go, Jack," it was little more than a whisper, but she knew Jack could hear her.
She watched as Jack grinned and mouthed 'thank you', before her vision was enveloped by an endless blue. A colossal shockwave collided with her own corona. Although she'd thrown up the strongest shield she could, the concussive force struck like a solid wall and sent her flying.
Miranda landed down the hill, on her back.
Everything was still. As her ears stopped ringing, she became aware of birds tentatively resuming their songs and the sounds of the lake lapping against the shore. She was dizzy as she forced herself to sit and look back up the hill.
"Jack!"
She half crawled, scrabbled her way back to Jack, knowing all along that it was done. Jack's eyes were open, they were bloodshot and shining with unshed tears. The only other evidence of violence was a thin trickle of blood from her nose. Miranda reached out and gently slid Jack's eyelids closed. There was someone shouting at her from further down the path, asking her if she needed help. She ignored them.
"Goodbye, you psychotic little shit."
And with that, Miranda gave herself over to the tears. She had every intention of keeping her promise to Jack to live her life, but in that moment, she would grieve for her dearest friend.
