Notes: There are several quotes from songs and philosophers intermingled with my own writing. They're underlined with citations at the bottom. I do not own those words, I was merely inspired by them. Per-usual, Fanfiction butchered my formatting. So, if you want to read it the way it's supposed to look head to AO3. My username and the story's title are identical there.
Years later, as the reapers laid waste to Palaven, Garrus would think back to this day in search of comfort. The turian military was scattered, desperately trying to hold the line. Victus had ordered him to the opposite side of Menae. A heavy reaper unit had deployed and their troops were being overwhelmed. While the trek across the moon was perilous, the view was breathtaking in its destruction. Merely a few days prior, that blaze of orange had been home. Palaven was burning. Even from this distance, the fires' rapid progression across the globe could be seen in awe-inspiring detail.
The cries of the wounded and the chirping of terrified soldiers followed his every step. He'd lost people on a daily basis β usually to hostile fire but there was always one or two who'd perish, dumbfounded by the reaper's cruelty. They'd see a friend in the cross hairs, horrifically altered, shambling towards them. And they'd hesitate. It was the only opening the creatures needed. The worst part about it was that many of them were kids, merely a year into boot camp. They didn't stand a chance. But the situation was desperate. And for the first time in history, The Hierarchy issued a draft for all those sixteen and over.
When things were looking grim, with death around every corner, he'd remind himself of the this day. His first glimpse at the incredible woman Jane would become. With millions dead and communications cut off, hope was in short supply. It was all he had. Memories of loved ones was all any of them had.
'I'm stronger than I look Garrus.' She grinned and ran a hand through her uneven, jagged hair. It was still growing back and stuck out at odd angles.
Spirits, if you even exist, please let her be alive. Don't make me go it alone.
Screams echoed across the rocky terrain. Reaper forces had infiltrated a cave with alarming force. The hand over his heart fell to his side and Garrus reached for his rifle to continue the march.
Upon receiving the news that Krul remained unconscious and in critical condition, his men retired to their bunks. Garrus sat in the darkened living room, side by side with a slumbering Jane. After polishing off the remaining wine, and regaling him with several quotes from her favorite 'Krul passages' she fell into an uneasy sleep.
Frightened at the prospect of losing the words, she'd written down some of her favorite pieces. And once they were alone, she shared her pocket-sized treasure with him. The little notebook sat on the coffee table. He cracked it open and ran his talons across the pages.
Our strategy should be not only to confront empire, but to lay siege to it. To deprive it of oxygen. To shame it. To mock it. With our art, our music, our literature, our stubbornness, our joy, our brilliance, our sheer relentlessness β and our ability to tell our own stories. Stories that are different from the ones we're being brainwashed to believe. (1)
Apparently, Jane memorized portions of every banned book she managed to get her hands on. And the moment she was safe, she wrote out entire passages word for word, terrified she'd forget the knowledge they'd bestowed on her. And now he was reading the leader of the batarian separatist's ideas. His hopes. His dreams for an entire people.
He turned the page.
In individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule. (2) Are we to do nothing in the face of this absurdity? Are we to forever lie low while they steal our children from our breast? Their madness must end. We must think for ourselves, lest we will never be free.
The surest way to dissolve a society is by abolishing knowledge. And that is precisely what The Hegemony did to us. They stole our history. They burned our libraries. They ransacked our very minds, cowed us with ignorance. We are a shadow of the nation we once were β our potential wasted. We are a people betrayed. For thousands of years we have strained under the yoke of The Hegemony. No more! We will not fade quietly into the night. We will fight. We will resist to the last.
When you come to me cold, broken, and alone β your last son butchered at the hands of our enemies, you may ask was it worth it? Should I not guard what is mine? Keep it close to my heart? When you rip my soul out, what have I left to fight for?
I ask you this: who was your child in their cruel hands? Were they whole? Or were they merely a cog in the corrupt machine of The Hegemony, drowning in the blood of their own?
What is life without liberty?
We are naught but shattered souls in their shadow.
Garrus had no idea that the boorish man he'd come to know could write so eloquently. Then again, after everything he'd learned about batarian language, perhaps there was a reason for their crude way of speaking. If the slightest disparity in body language was the difference between an insult and a compliment, their harsh reactions would be far more understandable.
The following entries transformed from philosophical quotes to Jane's personal thoughts, songs she was composing, and various drawings. Perhaps it was wrong to continue on, yet she'd given him this little journal. Why else would she do that if not to share the entire thing?
Apparently, I'm somewhere called Omega. Everything is cold, artificial. How do people stand it? I miss the feel of soil between my toes. The smell of dewy leaves. Real air. How the ground would steam in winter after a heavy rain. Here, you can't even see the stars.
[Drawing of constellations viewed from Kar'Shan.]
[Sketch] Strange mounds that looked like small hills and scattered cliffs with doors built into the rock
Couldn't sleep again. Keep thinking I'm back on that ship. I feel the slight vertigo in my dreams, the jagged, metal floor I slept on. Krapo's face. The chains may be broken. But what is freedom if your mind remains shackled?
At least my song is coming along. I finished the lyrics, now I just need to wrap the notes around them. I still haven't picked a title. Something that reminds me of Jimmy, perhaps. It's about him after all. I have so many questions, like who was this soldier he became? What happened to him after Mindoir? The nerdy farm boy I knew was nothing like the man all these vids describe. Even Garrus talks about someone alien to who I remember.
Guess The Alliance cured his asthma along with all the genetic enhancements. If he were standing right in front of me, would I only see a stranger?
You taught me the courage of stars before you left
π
How light carries on endlessly even after death
With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite
How rare and beautiful it is to even exist
I couldn't help but ask
π
For you to say it all again
π
I tried to write it down
π
But I could never find a pen
π
I'd give anything to hear
π
You say it one more time
π
That the universe was made
π
Just to be seen by my eyes (3)
[Sketch] Adolescent human male looking through telescope
Label: Jimmy geeking out
[Sketch] Cornfields with stars and twin moons hovering above the atmosphere
Is that how it looked? My memory isn't clear anymore. I tried omni-searching Mindoir. Apparently, I'm listed among the dead. At first, I thought it was gruesome. Now I kind of like the idea of being able to fly under the radar, no one knowing where I'm from. Maybe like a secret agent? A secret agent of what? Nothing? Boredom maybe.
Garrus told me about Sciffy's rescue. She's alive! Talk about miracles. Part of me still can't believe it. Maybe now I'll be able to sleep, unhaunted by little hands with big dreams.
[Sketch] Young girl with dark hair and eyes smiling a semi-toothless grin
Label: Alice Hammond
Recording Equipment settings:
Power Required/Consumption: 5V 150mA
Sample Rate: 48 kHz
Bit Rate: 16-bit
Audiobook 1 Tracks:
Original Song β Unknown Title
Secret Garden
Adagio in D
Allegro in C
Jane shifted in her sleep, shivering. Garrus snagged one of the throw blankets and draped it over her before closing the notebook. This was something she brought out to grant him a better understanding of Krul, not to share her most intimate thoughts and dreams β regardless of how intriguing it was to read.
The revelation that Shepard had been a nerdy child with asthma was certainly amusing. Sure, The Alliance had cures for such ailments, provided one could afford it. But the man had always come off as a jar-head, blowing his way through issues with a shotgun and an irate attitude.
He wasn't sure who he expected to find on that ship β a person this full of life was certainly not one of them. She deserved better than this shit-hole station. If Shepard were alive, Jane would be free to live wherever her heart desired. But there wasn't anything he could do about that now.
Despite the dire picture of life on Kar'Shan that she painted, he found himself grateful to have the opportunity to get to know her. While he considered himself to be a good judge of character, Jane proved him wrong at every turn. It was difficult to connect the childish person he thought she was merely a few days ago with the young woman sleeping on the couch behind him. Tonight he learned that there was more to intelligence than the everyday knowledge he took for granted.
After his men had retreated for some much needed rest, only him and Jane remained. They continued talking for awhile, burning time, hoping for news. He sat back, running their conversation through his mind.
"I used to be a soldier in The Hierarchy you know. Batarian Separatists were the enemy β we β I β killed so many. Now, I'm wondering who those people were, what their mission truly was. And why my people decided they needed to be wiped off the map."
"So have Iβ¦. I spent most of my life killing Resistance fighters. Try not to dwell on it. Trust me, it doesn't lead anywhere good."
"Wait. I thought you'd never even used a gun before. No offense but I've seen you shoot. Pretty sure you haven't hit a single target on the range. I'd apologize for spying, but, well, I tend to keep track of all firearms on the base."
"I knew you were there." Jane responded, a small laugh escaping. "But anyhow, you fight like no one I've ever seen. And I never pass up the opportunity to learn. Sure I haven't used guns before but that military base I was brought toβ¦. It was half lab, half army with a sprinkle of one fucked up boarding school. They used it to create powerful biotics in service to The Hegemony. Us kids would be set against against captured POWs, pit fighting mostly. Fill someone with enough drugs and slap a shock collar on them and you can get a person to do just about anything."
"Spirits. That's β¦ I mean I heard their biotic commando training was harsh but that's insane. How did you survive? The fighters I encountered were deadly. And you were just a kid..."
"They weren't at their best, crazed and half starved as they were. But you also haven't seen me use biotics. And besides, no one knows what they're truly capable of β not until their back's against the wall and it's kill or be killed. I'm stronger than I look Garrus."
"I'm getting that feeling. Say can I ask you something about that base you were in?"
"Shoot."
Garrus chuckled. "Picking up on our speech already? Anyhow, I simply can't see how The Hegemony expected you kids to join them after they put you through what sounds like torture."
"I get it." A pause. "You join up, do well, and they erase your problems. Your family will be taken care of, your belly full. It's the good life versus fighting for survival day in and day out."
"You were never tempted?"
Jane looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You think they let humans join? I was just an experiment to them. I guess if you want to split molecules, that was the biggest difference between me and the other kids. If they survived, they could have a future in The Hegemony. Didn't matter to me though. Even if I could've had a place in their ranks, I wouldn't want to sell my soul. Some lines you just don't cross."
A comfortable silence ensued for awhile. When she spoke again her eyes were drooping, words slightly slurred. "When this inhib-ihibi fuck. Inhibitor is out can I join your squad?"
"Seriously?"
"You kill sslavers. Sounds fun."
"I still haven't seen you in action yet. I didn't go through all that trouble just to get you killedβ¦." She'd dozed off, before he had the chance to finish. Possibly before he'd responded at all.
Now, alone with his thoughts, he reached a decision. Gathering up his gun along with a few grenades, he left for the casino. Maybe Krul would survive his injuries. Maybe he wouldn't. But he'd finish the batarian's mission. There were hostages to deal with, or, as Grundan had so articulately put it, Hegemony Curs. And something told him they had it coming.
Citations:
Citations:
(1) Arundhati Roy
(2) Friedrich Nietzsche
(3) Sleeping At Last β Saturn
