Tales from the Citadel

Chapter 19: Shepard versus the Service

Sundays aren't supposed to be busy. For many people, it's part of the weekend. Time off of work. A chance to sleep in, relax, maybe run some errands.

For me, not so much. Sundays never had the same cachet. When you grow up as a spacer brat, your life follows some kind of itinerary. Usually a daily one based on shifts. There's no such thing as a 9-5 Monday to Friday work week (hell, I don't even call it 9-5. It's 0900 to 1700). My point is that I wasn't really used to treating Sunday as a day of leisure.

Which was good because I had quite a bit to do.

Dusting, for starters. It's a lot easier to clean the captain's quarters—even ones as spacious as the Normandy's—mostly because it's a lot smaller and there isn't as much clutter. Vacuuming was a pain, but a necessary one. The bathrooms, kitchen and hardwood floors all needed cleaning. I hadn't been a slob during my housekeeping, you understand, but you'd be surprised how many fingerprints and smear marks can accumulate over time. Especially when it came to the windows. My God, the windows. There were so many—and they were all floor-to-ceiling windows too!

I also had to make sure I'd done as much prep work as possible for the buffet. Thanks to Ellie, I'm not exactly a disaster in the kitchen, but it must be said that I'm a soldier, not a baker or chef. I can't exactly whip something up on the spur of the moment. Especially when I was providing for levo- and dextro-protein races. The last thing I wanted was to send someone into anaphylactic shock. Thankfully, there were a lot of catering services to choose from. The hard part was picking out a decent assortment that struck a balance between scraps of finger food and five-course meals—again, for a guest list that included human, asari, salarian, turian, quarian and drell.

This might seem a bit much, but I felt it was important to do my best. Partly for the sake of the apartment's appearance, but mostly out of respect.

The memorial service was tomorrow, after all.

I should explain what I'm talking about, shouldn't I.

A few days ago, I received an e-mail from Kolyat. It went something like this:

Subject: Memorial Service

From: Kolyat Krios

Commander,

I was somewhat surprised to receive a comm call from the Council. Specifically, from Councillor Valern. He would like to hold what humans call a memorial service for my father. Where it is held does not matter so much as who attends. I would like you to be there, as well as those people on the Normandy who knew my father.

I understand at human services, people speak well of the dead. It seems appropriate for you to conduct this part as the commander of the Normandy. If you are wondering why I am suggesting a gathering that incorporates so many human customs, I must admit that I am not all that familiar with the ancient funerary practices of my people. Granted, the priests would be able to provide guidance but… I am also somewhat nervous I might recall an inappropriate memory and blurt it out in front of everyone.

To be honest, I find myself somewhat overwhelmed. I am honoured that Councillor Valern would like to pay his respects, but I simply don't know what to do. I realize this is quite an imposition on you, but it would mean a great deal to me.

Yours,
Kolyat

Hoo boy.

I met Thane on Illium when I was gathering people to investigate the mysterious abductions of entire human colonies in the Terminus Systems. He was finishing off a contract at the time. Killing bad people in an attempt to atone for all the bad karma he'd accrued. And perhaps out of guilt.

Apparently, one of the downsides of being a professional assassin—be it one on contract to the hanar or a freelancer trying to put food on the table—is that you don't have much time for family. Over time, he became estranged from his family. Specifically, his son, Kolyat. Things grew worse when his wife—and Kolyat's mom—was killed by some mercs whose leader was one of Thane's contracts.

I'd only met Kolyat on two occasions. The first was when Thane enlisted my help in stopping Kolyat from becoming a hit man in a misguided attempt at following his father's footsteps. We managed to intervene before any lives were lost, thereby allowing Thane and Kolyat to finally start healing and rebuilding their relationship.

The second time was when Thane gave his life to protect Councillor Valern from an assassination attempt—part of a Cerberus-led coup against the Citadel Council. Kolyat was by his father's side when he finally passed away.

While I held a memorial on the Normandy after the coup was thwarted, it was by necessity brief. The Reaper War was still going on, after all. However, Kolyat had never been there, so he never got the chance to get some kind of closure. Given the impromptu nature of the memorial, it was quite likely that several people who had known Thane never really came to terms with his passing either. This was an opportunity to correct that. So I sent a reply to Kolyat, detailing that I would be honoured to attend Thane's memorial service and assist in whatever way I could.

What followed was a series of e-mails, comm chats and vid-calls and Kolyat and I tried to figure something out. As I suspected, Kolyat didn't want anything involving too much fanfare or publicity. Just a quiet, dignified, respectful service—kinda like Thane.

The first and trickiest challenge was determining where to hold the service. I'll admit, the Normandy was the first thing that popped into my head. Thane might not have been an Alliance soldier, but he was one of my squadmates and a member of the Normandy crew. As far as I was concerned, that was good enough. Plus, that would avoid the hassle of finding a suitable venue on the Citadel. Unfortunately, the Normandy was in a particularly chaotic phase of her retrofit at the moment. Suffice to say that the sheer amount of open circuit panels and exposed wiring would set the wrong mood.

So we went through the hassle of finding a suitable venue on the Citadel. Short answer: they were all booked up for the next three weeks. The Reaper War had put a lot of weddings, anniversaries, birthday parties, graduations, celebrations and other gatherings on hold and people were making up for lost time. The only other option was settling for somewhere cramped, grungy and loud. Well, that and waving my Spectre authority around and seized a venue in the name of galactic security (can you say abuse of power?). Or holding the service in the Citadel Tower when the Council wasn't in session (Councillor Valern could probably arrange it, but that would definitely draw too much attention).

Then I thought of Anderson's apartment. It definitely wasn't cramped, grungy or loud. The neon lights from outside weren't ideal, but we could always lower the blinds. And we had a better shot of keeping the media away. Kolyat certainly had no objections—at that point, the poor guy was willing to take anything.

Looking back, that was probably the most difficult thing to figure out. I mean, finding a suitable caterer and picking a menu took some time. Clearing Anderson's apartment was no picnic. But they didn't seem as daunting. Maybe finding a spot to host the memorial service was such a hassle that everything else was a breeze by comparison. Whatever the reason, we were able to deal with one thing after another.

And then… it was Monday.

The guest list was small. Just the squadmates who had fought alongside Thane and were either on the Citadel or were able to make it in time. Joker. EDI, in her mech body. Dr. Chakwas. Kaidan—he'd apparently had several chats with Thane while he was recovering. Commander Bailey. Councillor Valern. A few others. And me, of course.

Once everyone had arrived and settled in, I cleared my throat. "If I could have your attention, please?"

The room fell silent.

"Thank you for coming," I began. "We are gathered here to honour the life of Thane Krios. Thane touched each of our lives in different ways. The councillor knew him as a hero. The Normandy's crew knew him as a brother-in-arms… and a father devoted to his son.

"I first met him when he brought justice to someone who had evaded it. It was an honour to fight alongside him. It was a pleasure to talk to him, to learn a little bit about drell, to exchange philosophical ideas—though I'll be the first to admit he did most of the teaching and I did most of the learning. And it was a privilege to help him personally when he reconnected with his son after being separated for so long."

By that point, Kolyat was tearing up. Bailey leaned forward and silently handed him a napkin.

Taking a breath, I carried on. "Though his life took him to very dark places, Thane cared for the better angels of our nature. With each breath he took, with each battle he fought, he strove to make the galaxy a better place. Even when he was terminally ill, he roused himself from his hospital bed and raced through the war-torn streets because he knew I needed help. That my squad and the people who called the Citadel home needed help.

"You all knew the results of that day: Thane gave his life to save a man he barely knew." I paused to gesture at Councillor Valern. "In doing so, he helped his friends and comrades-in-arms one last time. He played a pivotal role in saving the Citadel Council, thwarting the Cerberus coup and mobilizing the galaxy to fight together against a common foe. Make no mistake; we are all here, one way or another, because of Thane Krios. And now he can rest."

I paused for a moment before asking "Would anyone else like to speak?"

…

…

To my mild surprise, the first person to take me up on my offer was Tali. "What I remember about Thane was his confidence. He told me once about how he remembered everything, even every mistake he made. I told him if I did that, I'd be a nervous wreck. He thought about that before saying he'd found a way to keep the memories of his mistakes under control, to learn from them so he could do better. He was confident I could do the same. I was grateful for that."

Garrus was next. "It might seem strange to some, but the last word I'd label Thane with is 'assassin'. That implies he was nothing more than a professional killer. Someone who worked alone, killed alone and died alone. But that wasn't true. When he served on the Normandy, he was part of a team. Part of a squad. We fought through more battles than most people could ever imagine. Covered each other's backs and saved each other's lives time and time again. That makes him a partner in my book."

"Thane's last stand was important," Samara said. "But let us also remember why Thane left the Normandy: to spend what time he had left with his son. To keep him away from a life of crime. To make amends for the mistakes he had made. To encourage him to seek a better path. Deeds such as these do not go unnoticed. They echo in all who hear them."

"I have observed that many organics have an inherent directive to improve themselves," EDI said, "a desire to do the right thing for an individual, a group or the greater community. Thane was no exception. During the time he was on the Normandy, I saw a man who made a critical error in his life and was making a great effort to rectify that mistake. He was trying to change and, in my opinion, he succeeded."

Then it was Joker's turn. "The day Thane came onto the Normandy, I remember talking to Kelly. At the time, all we knew about him was that he could probably kill us all with a ballpoint pen. But once you got to know him, there wasn't any reason to be afraid. He let you knew where you stood. Quietly. Politely. With dignity and respect. There aren't a lot of people out there who would do that. Thane was one of them."

A few other people offered their thoughts on how Thane had touched their lives. Miranda. Dr. Chakwas. Even Kaidan.

And then it was time for one more person. "Kolyat," I finally asked, "is there anything you'd like to say?"

I honestly wasn't sure what his answer would be. We'd had a dry run of the service a few days ago to double-check how people would come to the apartment, what flower arrangements would be acceptable, where people would congregate and what I was going to say. At the time, Kolyat wasn't sure if he would have a speech prepared.

Kolyat slowly stepped forward, head bowed. He turned to face us in silence, mustering the words—the strength—to speak. We waited until he was ready.

"When I was little," he finally said, "I thought my father had it all figured out. He said men must be loyal to their friends and dangerous to their enemies. But when he prevented me from… from hurting someone, he had changed. He said enemies and ego are not as important as loved ones. He said he knew that because he had taken many bad things out of the galaxy… but I was the only good thing he ever added to it.

"I didn't want to hear it. I was… lost. I told him he just wanted my forgiveness so he could… so he could die in peace or something. I called him a hypocrite in a thousand different ways. I told him he was going soft. But he kept trying. Trying to talk, trying to reach me. Now… I think maybe he did have some things figured out. Maybe not everything. Maybe some things took longer to figure out than either of us wanted. But in the end, it was enough."

He lifted his head and looked at us. "That's all I can say. If anyone would like to continue, we'll be here. And if not… thank you for coming. Your being here means so much and I am very grateful."

There comes a point in every memorial service when the speeches end and people start milling around. Today was no exception. Oh, people gathered in groups of two or three to talk quietly. Kolyat had various one-on-one conversations with people who wanted to share something privately. The tables of refreshments saw frequent use. But that was it, more or less.

Eventually, people started saying their goodbyes and left. After half the guests were gone, I found Kolyat by the window. "Looks like people are starting to clear out," I said.

"It appears so. Commander?"

"Yes, Kolyat?"

"Thank you for holding this event. In time, it will be a good memory."

"I hope so," I said sincerely. "And I hope we were able to give you a better sense of who your father was."

"He did not have many friends," Kolyat admitted. "That changed when he came aboard the Normandy. You—all of you—were good for him. He was grateful."

"I'm glad."

"If you will excuse me, I should take this opportunity to speak with the Councillor."

"About what?" I asked.

"He is still feeling grateful. I want to point out there are some scientists who need funding. Salarian scientists, in particular. If anyone would be able to create a breakthrough in the treatment of Kepral's Syndrome, maybe even find a cure, it would be them."

Hoo boy. "No doubt," I nodded carefully. "Just… I don't want to discourage you, but the Council doesn't move too quickly at the best of times. Given the incredible reconstruction efforts going on and the political turmoil throughout the galaxy, well, these aren't the best of times."

Kolyat smiled for the first time. "I have hope, Commander. And in the Councillor, I may have an ally—he has recently orated about the need to fund science, both in wartime and in this post-war era. My odds are good."

Maybe I should have tried harder. Get him to lower or temper his expectations. But I did have a habit of looking for, and seeing, the best in people. Maybe today wasn't the day to break that habit. "Then you'd better go talk to him. Good luck."

He nodded. "Oh ,before I go… I was organizing my father's possessions, and I came upon copies of video messages he tried to send to you."

"Yeah," I sighed. "He mentioned that. It wasn't until the war started—well after he was admitted to Huerta Memorial—that I finally got an e-mail from him."

"We suspected that you were unable to receive messages through the usual channels," Kolyat reassured me. "In any event, I sent them to your extranet address earlier today. I hope they help more than they hurt. Until we meet again, Commander. Thank you… for everything."

We shook hands. Kolyat went to Councillor Valern. They were still talking when the last guest said her goodbyes.

I busied myself cleaning up the refreshments while giving Kolyat and Councillor Valern their space. While I wasn't actively eavesdropping, it certainly sounded like Kolyat had done his homework in terms of namedropping scientists and pointing out avenues of research that sounded promising. For his part, Councillor Valern seemed to be engaged, offering relevant commentary and suggestions rather than obvious platitudes. Eventually, they concluded their talks, separately said their goodbyes and left.

As soon as the door closed, I went straight to my terminal. For once, I didn't have any new spam clogging my inbox. Maybe the trolls and time-wasters and whatnot decided to take a holiday. Whatever the reason, I wasn't complaining.

Sure enough, there were three new messages from Kolyat waiting for me, each with a video attachment. I downloaded everything, scanned them for viruses—I trusted Kolyat, but you never knew what could happen—and started the first video.

After a burst of static, Thane appeared. To my delight, he looked… well. He was in a room of some kind. Behind him, through the window, I could see a modern-looking cityscape—the Presidium, perhaps? It certainly looked familiar.

"Shepard. I suppose I should thank you for my freedom. Leaving the Normandy was the right decision. It was saddening to see our crew go their separate ways, but it is better than answering questions in an Alliance interrogation room."

That would place this shortly after my mission in the Bahak system, when I decided to turn myself into the Alliance along with the Normandy SR-2. We'd agreed that anyone who didn't want to deal with the Alliance had earned the right to, shall we say, slip away. Thane was one of them.

"I hope this message finds you well. As for me… I have moved into an apartment on the Citadel not far from Kolyat." He paused for a moment. "I think the first attack I had frightened him. I will spare you the details. It seemed very dramatic at the time, but in comparison to what we faced after travelling through the Omega 4 relay, it was a child's game."

Attack? Was he talking about those moments where he'd suddenly jump from a casual conversation to living and narrating a memory out loud? If so… the memories Thane had shared with me were confusing, but hardly frightening. Then again, I'd gotten a bare fraction of all the experiences Thane had accumulated and Kolyat was a civvie. What did I know?

"In any case, good luck getting the Alliance to listen to you. Let's keep in touch."

Yeah. That didn't happen. I opened the second video. Thane was standing in what I now guessed was his apartment on the Presidium.

"Shepard. If you sent a message back, I didn't get it. I suppose communications from someone of my reputation would be restricted."

For the umpteenth time, I bitterly regretted how the Alliance handled my communications. It wasn't just someone of Thane's reputation—I didn't get any videos, calls or communications from anyone.

"The irony is, I am a danger to no one these days. I am even paying taxes on my investments. Mundane, perhaps, but necessary. After all, I can't expect Kolyat to do so if I don't. He is doing better. He has no significant other, and he is temperamental, but he is employed and staying out of crime. I can tell he is serious about changing. It has cost him more than a few friends."

You know, that was the one thing I hadn't really gotten out of Kolyat. I gathered he had finished his community service, and had done such a good job that C-Sec hired him to liaise with some of the local civilian charities, but that was about all I knew. We were so busy—and, I guess, distracted—with the memorial service arrangements that we never really had a chance to chat.

"Send something back if you can, Shepard. I can only learn so much from news reports about you."

And we both knew that most of those news reports were vague generalities and a whole lotta guesswork.

I closed the second video and… paused. This was it. One more video. One last chance to see Thane. One last chance to hear his gravelly voice. And then that would be the end. He would really be gone. Just a memory.

I took a deep breath. Two, even. Then I opened the third video.

"I have tried a false identity to try to get this message through to you. We'll see if it works. I have good news and bad. The good news is that Kolyat and I took a few days to visit Earth… light the shade of her eyes. Shrill sound of chirping stops. I scan the ground, see two tiny bodies locked by claws…"

Thane stopped talking. Blinked. Coughed once. "Excuse me."

Oh. Another trip down memory lane. I'd almost forgotten what it was like to see one.

"As I was saying, we saw a beautiful sunset in New Mexico and a scorpion eating a cricket. I wish you could have joined us."

I would have liked that. Even if it involved scorpions getting dinner.

"The bad news is, I had…"

Oh God.

"I fainted and struck my head."

Fuck. I mean, I knew Thane was at Huerta Memorial, but I never found out how he got there.

"Kolyat has convinced me to return to the Citadel early. I have been admitted to Huerta Memorial Hospital and will stay there from now on. I still don't want to die in a hospital. Even a long-term care facility would be better than that. But for now, this is where the doctors are. And Kolyat… I love him. That means I must trust him.

"Goodbye, Shepard. Perhaps we will meet again, but let me say this now in case I cannot later. Goodbye… and thank you."

I stared at the vid-screen long after the video turned to static. "Goodbye, Thane," I heard myself say. "And you're welcome."