Author's Note: Viewer discretion is advised for this chapter.
Chapter Seventy Five: The Good, the Bad, and the Dalatrass
"James, what rhymes with weenis?" Shepard grinned from ear to ear at the human. Liara had never, ever met someone who could pull off such a mischievous look in such a charming way.
"That seems like a dangerous question, Commander," Liara lightly touched him on the back before heading past to the kitchen.
"No, only the answer is dangerous… So James, what's your final answer?" Colt's grin managed to grow.
"You know I'm not answering that," James replied. The big marine looked a little dazed after being chosen for a Shepard joke directly after waking up. The poor guy hadn't even gotten breakfast yet.
"I know, but it's always worth the try," Shepard said before he chuckled to himself. Liara was almost positive that Shepard jokes were only meant to make Shepard laugh. Other people laughing was just a bonus.
"Commander," an Ensign nodded to Shepard as he walked by. Liara hadn't seen the Ensign show up. In fact Liara had never seen her. She must've just been assigned to the Normandy.
"So we're heading to the Citadel. My mother is being a royal pain in the as-," Colt stopped talking mid-sentence. Liara looked up curiously. "What are you doing?" Shepard thundered. The Ensign stood in front of Shepard, and blocked the asari's view. Liara put her cereal down hard on the counter, and slowly approached the pair. Colt's tone of voice made it clear that he was no longer joking. Walking to the side provided Liara an unobscured view of what was happening.
Shepard's hands were traveling upwards slowly. A pistol held in the human female's hands was pointed at Colt's chest. "Now let's think about this, okay? What does killing me accomplish? I mea-"
The tremendous roar of the pistol prevented Liara's ears from working, but the picture in front of her was crystal clear. Blood spattered across the white seats at the Mess tables. A vast hole in Colt's chest ripped through his flesh easily. The blast made his body fly into the seat violently. Scarlet red dripped out of his mouth and down his chin. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as he lay splayed out across the seat's back.
Chakwas came running from Liara's right, and grabbed Shepard. Another person-who wasn't entirely clear-helped the doctor. Together they carried Colt into the Med-Bay.
The door to the Med-Bay opened up only seconds after the three disappeared into its interior. Chakwas stumbled slowly out of the room with her head bowed. Liara knew. The human made her way to the Mess table Shepard had been shot at and sat down. The previously crimson soaked seats were now a pristine white. Chakwas took a deep breath and looked at Liara. Chakwas looked like how Liara felt. The older doctor barely shook her head side to side….
Pain flashed through Liara's head when she jerked upwards and hit her head. Her lungs refused to pull in enough air. The otherwise silent room was filled with the sound of desperate breathes. The light cast off from her monitors confirmed that she was just in her room on the Normandy. That led to the realization that it had just been a dream. Liara grabbed at her chest, and looked around. She must've fallen asleep at her desk. Colt was okay, in fact he was probably still sleeping in his room.
Water would hopefully calm her down. Her shaky legs took her to the dimly lit kitchen. Liara poured her water, and noticed how uncomfortably her shirt clung to her skin. With a start, she realized she was soaked with sweat.
The water cup shook in her hand when she sat at one of the tables. The upholstery on the seats was black, not white.
A voice that sounded similar to Shepard's sounded above her head. It was angry at first, before turning into yelling. Liara bolted out of her seat for the elevator.
...
"There is nobody else! They're all dead!" Anderson had told him that, Anderson. He was one of those people who was supposed to drag him through the war. David Anderson wasn't supposed to remind Shepard that he carried the galaxy.
Being the last, and one of the only line of defenses was killer information. Commander Shepard didn't want that job. He liked taking orders; he was excellent at taking orders. Let Hackett or Anderson decide how to win this war. Let them tell Shepard what to do. Make the council agree on which planets are more important; which populations are worth saving. Let them make the tough decisions; the ones where nobody wins. They should do that. Other people, top-officials, experts, geniuses, scientists, military officers, whatever; their titles and names don't matter. As long as it's someone who knows what they're doing. Someone who wasn't Colt. Those people who normal people talk about when they need someone to thank or hate. Shepard needed they. Someone to tell him what to do, and take the blame when the galaxy went to hell.
Because if the galaxy and all its people were relying on Colt, it was gonna be a short war.
"Commander, are you okay?" EDI's voice echoed across the empty floor and walls of the War Room. Two o'clock was a change in shift, so he was given the gift of isolation. It wouldn't last for long, but he'd take what he could get.
Freezing was a kind word for the metal flooring. Colt was sitting cross-legged on the ground with his back against the wall. He was playing with his hands, and trying not to throw up. "Fine, thank you," he said curtly.
His surroundings started to focus. Harsh, artificial light cast an unnatural glow onto the room. Everything was dead in the War Room. The consoles were powered down, and the center island showed no holograms. It made him feel like he was the only one left. The only audible noise was the humming of the Normandy's engine, which would've probably been entirely inaudible if Shepard had not received ears that could pick up every almost funny thing Garrus muttered under his breath.
"Shepard, your conversation with Admiral Anderson woke up the majority of the crew," EDI said. Damn it. Dammit. Damn it! Darn. Fuck.
His moment of pure selfishness was over. Colt stood awkwardly, and flared his biotics in an attempt to warm himself. He grabbed his crutches, and started the great journey to the elevator. Previously he had to drag his robotic leg along, but he had gained enough control to keep it off the floor. The trip up to the security checkpoint stationed between the QEC and War Room complex seemed chilly and ominous. Some lights were turned off, and cloaked with what could've been nothing or everything in the shadows. It was a lonely path.
The two ensigns at the checkpoint were generally quite chatty and friendly. Not this time. This time they scanned him in record breaking time without uttering a word more advanced than sir. The QEC was ten times the noise, and thirty times the annoyance.
Everyone and their great aunts were in the QEC. Most were in Alliance issue sleepwear. Shepard himself set a great example by still being dressed in his varren pajamas. He was the epitome of Alliance brass class. To make things even better, he was still giving off blue contrails from his hands due to his biotic flare cooldown. Colt imagined that he looked like very deadly plushie.
"Commander, what's going on?" Traynor stepped forward. Her dark, concerned eyes were mirrored in the crowd behind her. The talking died down to a murmur. This stupid fucking fight with Anderson was supposed to only age Colt, not his entire crew.
"It's nothing to worry about guys. It-ah-was a personal call…" Shepard hesitated for a second, contemplating whether or not he should elaborate further. Two seconds passed by before he decided against it. Without another word, he made his way through the crowd. His friends parted easily for him, and stayed silent as he made his way among them. Shepard kept his head down the entire time.
When he reached the elevator and turned around to face everyone, their faces shone with apprehension. It was hard to tell if their fear still lingered because they didn't believe that the conversation was personal, or if they felt genuine concern for their Commander.
Liara stepped into view and made her way towards him. She said, "Shepar-" The elevator doors closed before she could finish.
One second ticked by. Two. He felt like he was going to be sick. "EDI, all elevator access to my room is denied," he mumbled. Colt hadn't really planned on banning access, but his mouth spoke without first consulting with his brain.
"Including Liara?" The AI asked. The elevator was going so slow there was a possibility that Colt could end up at his cabin yesterday. Why couldn't they just go to Palaven already? The repairs to his ship were taking a lot more time than Shepard thought.
"Including Doctor T'Soni."
"Yes Commander," she responded. Soft asari music played over the elevator's speakers on his way up. The elevator had never, ever played music before. An involuntary smile ghosted across Shepard's lips at EDI's attempt to make him feel better.
"I appreciate it EDI," he said. The elevator doors opened up to the Commander Cave.
"Shepard, would you mind if I asked you something?" she asked. Colt stumbled through his cabin and acknowledged how horrible it was without Rosebud or Liara.
"Shoot," Shepard answered while he went over to his terminal. The unread icon was flashing, immediately catching his attention.
"Wasn't the conversation between you and Admiral Anderson inappropriate for a superior and subordinate?" She said.
Colt sighed, "I suppose so, but I think it's safe to say that Anderson and I have moved past a typical superior-subordinate...thing." He had three unread emails. One was from Garrus, another from the reporter Diana Allers, and the last one was from Liara.
Garrus wanted to have lunch on the Citadel before they headed to Palaven. Diana Allers wanted to stay on the Normandy for the duration of the war. Liara's message was sent only three minutes prior. She had sent a list.
He didn't want to read it, so instead he went to bed.
…
'Message Sent' appeared on Liara's main monitor. What else could she do? What had even been the cause of Shepard's mood? Javik had been sleeping, and he was the only one who could piss Colt off so extremely. Had Garrus planted a fake mouse, or chased him with a needle? No, Shepard was more likely to pass out in those situations rather than get angry. Plus the turian had fallen asleep hours ago.
"EDI, who was Shepard speaking to?" She asked. She needed a place to start, and then build up a plan from there.
"I am sorry, but I cannot give out that information," the AI responded. Alrighty then. Plan B would go into effect...as soon as she figured out what Plan B was.
"Shadow Broker," Glyph buzzed by her head, and took off two years of her life by using the extremely effective weapon of being a nuisance. She swatted at the drone, trying to refrain from blasting it out of the air with a well aimed warp. The fearless drone floated closer, "There is an unusual amount of transport vehicles leaving Project: Crucible."
Liara pulled up the docking information for the project. The number of departures was alarmingly high. She pulled the ships' manifests up searching for any patterns. The passengers were predominantly salarian. "What…?" She murmured. Something must have happened on Sur' Kesh. She pulled up reports from the salarian home world, and quickly scanned all the emergency broadcasts. Only an update about Reaper locations came up.
Politics must've been the cause then. If it wasn't the Reapers, then the second worst thing was probably to blame. Glyph hovered by her head. Luckily for it all of her annoyance was now focused on salarian politicians. One politician in particular actually. One of the five dalatrass's that had a bone to pick with the project if she didn't get her way. A salarian named Dalatrass Linron.
"Glyph, please dial up Dalatrass Linron using the scrambler," the asari said while wheeling over to a monitor across from her. The light on the bottom of the screen went from red to green as it connected to the dalatrass's omni-tool.
"Hello?" Linron said after a moment. Her voice was clear and cheerful.
"How much do you think your breeding lines will fetch? Or perhaps I should just put them on the extranet for free," Liara said. The scrambler made her voice sound deep, and unrecognizable. She had an entire script worked out in her head for the dalatrass.
...
"Shepard, sorry to wake you, but Garrus wants to get lunch now," EDI said. Shepard was going to start wearing earplugs to bed if the AI kept waking him up. He had slept like a total of two times, so a little peace when he did finally rest would be nice.
"Tell the bastard to hold his damn horses. We'll have lunch when I feel like it," he mumbled while settling back down. The bed was way too comfortable and warm to even think about leaving.
"Primarch Victus is also expecting to have lunch with you," EDI replied. Of course he did.
"Fuuuuck," Colt grumbled, "That's the thing about damn turians. They always have reinforcements."
"The majority of the crew have just asked Garrus if they can accompany the two of you," EDI said. This was the final insult that finally propelled Colt out of bed. He only had to wait two days before heading to Palaven. He couldn't wait. Shepard was getting tired of the Citadel.
"Tell them they can come. Also ask them if they would like to take their childhood pets along, or perhaps they would prefer to bring along their abusive fathers," Shepard rolled out his bed, and crawled over to the drawers built into the metal walls.
"Commander, I think asking them that might offend some members. Plus, some of the crew did not grow up in troubled households," EDI said smoothly. He opened a drawer and pulled on a shirt easily. That would be the easy part.
"Do you really think that EDI? Do you remember the loyalty missions? Everyone had daddy issues. Every single one," Shepard was rolling around the floor trying to pull his pants up over his bad leg.
"Mordin did not have 'daddy issues' Shepard," EDI said.
"One person."
…
"...Scandalwood? What does that mean?...Liara, what has this wood seen? What does it know?" Shepard picked up a little glass container and read the label. He had finally managed to get pants on, and head out for lunch with Garrus. His bored crew apparently had nothing better to; almost everyone had accompanied them to a Citadel restaurant.
"That says sandal, Commander. Sandalwood," Chakwas' face indicated she was trying her very best to not laugh and embarrass Colt even more. Thank God the Primarch had left earlier.
"Hmm-," Growling from Rosebud stopped further comments. The entire table shook as the large dog/reptile crawled from under it. The varren's teeth were bared, her hackles rose, and saliva stretched between her teeth. A figure was approaching their table. As she got closer, Colt realized it was the dalatrass.
"Dalatrass! Rosebud stop," Colt shook his head at the varren. She stopped growling, but continued watching the dalatrass. "Did you come all the way out here just to see my awesome new leg?" Shepard put his leg on the table and started to roll up his pants.
Linron glided over to their table and sat down. Her contorted face suggested that she either suffered from diarrhea or found out about Colt tricking her. She didn't say a word for awhile, forcing a standoff. Colt awkwardly kept his leg on the table, and made intense eye contact. "How about we go somewhere private, Commander." Shepard looked at her, pulled his leg off the table with as much dignity he could muster in such a situation, and then shrugged at the crew.
"Alright," he put his napkin down, picked up his crutches, and limped after the dalatrass. She led them to a patio overlooking a parking lot. It was very scenic.
"I know what you did," the dalatrass said quietly. She was giving him a look that mirrored Rosebud's face when she was handed a large piece of steak.
He said with a twinge of aggressiveness, "What exactly did I do, Dalatrass?"
"You cured it," she said. He had no idea that salarians could look so mean. Their prongs were just simply too cute, but the dalatrass pulled scary off.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Colt's mouth twisted into a smirk, making flames ignite in her eyes. God he loved toying with uptight people.
"The genophage, Commander," she sounded so strained. He enjoyed watching her wrestle with anger. Maybe she would attack him, and then he'd have an excuse to snap her delicate neck.
"Oh, yes. That. You say I really cured it? Hmmm… Looks like I forgot to sabotage it. Whoops. I am a bit absent-minded, ask my friends," Shepard saw her squirm a bit, and start to turn green with presumably anger. Or maybe she'd just been poisoned. One could only hope.
"Don't play dumb with me, Commander. You knew what you were doing," Linron's eyes were by far the most dangerous thing he had seen in the past twelve hours. Being in public was likely all that was keeping her from clawing his eyes out. The genophage must've been close to her heart.
Shepard fanned himself with feigned shock, "Did I? Seems like a very complex plan for some peasant."
"I'm pulling salarian resources from the Crucible," she said proudly. The game changed with seven words.
Shepard didn't feel like messing with her anymore. "You wouldn't dare," he said through his teeth.
"It already happened," she replied, while grinning triumphantly. Why hadn't he known this? Why hadn't someone told him? The Crucible needed those resources!
"Put them back, dalatrass. The galaxy needs your people. We all have to work together to win this war. We won't win divided. Surely you can see that, dalatrass. Don't be stupid. J-just think for a minute, please. Dammit! Think about the cost if we don't win. Trillions of people dead. Plus, do you think the galactic community will want to have anything to do with people who refused to help others? Do you want to tank your own economy? I guarantee that's what will happen," Shepard could provide a guarantee because he would make it happen himself.
"The other races wouldn't dare do that. If we fail, so does everyone else," the salarian leader said.
"The rules have changed. That may have been true during peacetime, but war is different. If you don't join against the Reapers, we'll let you drown. You will doom your people if you don't stop your withdrawal," Shepard suppressed his rising anger. Turning the dalatrass into paste in a very public place would probably cost Colt's job.
"You're bluffing," the dalatrass narrowed her eyes. A waitress floated by with two drinks. He motioned for her, and grabbed one. Alcohol was going to be needed.
"I'm really not. That's the future if you choose wrong," Colt stopped talking in the hopes that she would realize his sincerity.
"You are a true asshole, do you know that?" She said. That was from left field.
"Yes, yes I do. But I don't know what I did wrong. I'm telling the truth dalatrass. I really am," he said. Her face looked as bitchy as ever, making Shepard wonder if he hadn't transmitted how serious he was.
"I know it was you who called me, Commander. I will not be threatened by an Alliance officer. Especially not one with a past lined with Red Sand," she said. The Dalatrass's words hit him like a bullet to the chest. Pain shot through his right hand. He glanced at it to see pale red dribbling down his fingers and dripping onto the table cloth. His wine glass was crumpled in his fingers.
"What did you say?" Colt snarled. What the fuck was she talking about? A call?
"I said-"
"You are gonna regret those words," he drawled out menacingly, "Leave"
It was her turn to be intimidated by the look in his eyes, "Commander-"
"Now. Before I do something irresponsible," he was barely keeping himself from flying over the table and beating the shit out of her. She was actually saving herself if she left.
He watched her briskly walk out of the restaurant. Shepard was used to things falling apart, but this feeling was new. This feeling felt like losing. He pulled his omni-tool open and selected Admiral Hackett.
"Commander Shepard," Hackett's face flared to life.
"We have a problem, Admiral," Colt told him, still hobbling out of the restaurant.
…
Liara followed Shepard out of the restaurant. He had been talking on his omni-tool for a while before he shut it down and stopped at a railing. The walkway they were on looked out onto the Citadel. It would have been beautiful if Liara was in the proper mood. She walked over to his side, and slid an arm around his waist careful to avoid his crutches. Colt made no indication that he even noticed her.
Colt was dragging the galaxy kicking and screaming through The War. For all of the things they said about wanting to survive and not be exterminated, the galaxy's people did a remarkable job at standing in their own way of living. A prime example of that sort of mindset was Dalatrass Linron. She was actively participating in driving the salarians into a situation where only fried frog legs would come out. In fact she was doing a pretty spectacular job at screwing everyone over, a superpower Liara was sure. Shepard had been succeeding at pushing and pulling the governments through the war...until about two minutes earlier.
Liara came to a disgusting realization. There was one person at the moment that stood in Colt's way. One person that could be replaced easily. Getting rid of a singular person would be relatively easy compared to dealing with an entire dead galaxy. The asari looked to her boyfriend, and saw the same realization crashing through his face. Colt looked horrified, and absolutely sick. Liara felt fine, good even.
"You know what has to happen, don't you?" She asked.
"I know," his voice was emotionless.
"I can do it, if you want," she offered. His entire body tensed under her arm.
"No," he replied firmly. Shepard pulled away from Liara, and went back to the path. She lost sight of him in the crowd almost immediately.
...
The game had changed. Commander Shepard would no longer be the one manipulating and fooling the salarian people. The dalatrass would not allow it. This time she had won the battle.
"Felix! Get dinner ready!" The dalatrass called out. The open layout of her apartment was usually brightly lit with the multiple vid screens blaring with Citadel news stations, salarian news stations, and most recently ANN. The space was completely silent, however. She never stayed long on the Citadel and she never really used this apartment, so there was an obvious lack of decorations or color. Since Felix didn't reply, she figured he must've dozed off and turned the vid screens off.
"Felix!" She yelled again. The dalatrass hung up her coat and looked around for her assistant. Perhaps the fool had fallen asleep. She needed to tell someone about her victory over the great Commander Shepard.
She walked into the next room over. The massive vid screen hanging over her second living room was dark. It was never dark. "Felix!" She called out again. This time a bit of fear leaked into her voice. The shadows she had paid no heed to before were stretching and grabbing at her. It shouldn't have been so menacing and hushed.
"There you are," the dalatrass breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Felix's outline against the windows overlooking the Citadel Presidium. She walked over to turn on the vid screen. This particular one was tuned into ANN. She told him, "Get dinner going. We have a lot to talk about."
Felix turned around and made his way to her. "Yes we do, dalatrass," a voice much deeper than Felix's responded. She whipped her head up from her omni-tool. The figure lumbered to the vid screen, and turned it back off. A hush blanketed the two people; it filled the apartment with a sense of foreboding.
"Commander Shepard?" The dalatrass whispered, not even attempting to hide the trepidation that had enveloped her voice. She backed up a little, hoping to see his features better. It would be easier to guess at his intentions if his face were visible. Darkness concealed his face for a few moments before he stepped into a beam of light. The human's normally handsome appearance looked twisted from the light catching his face incorrectly.
"In the flesh," his voice was low and rumbly compared to his normal tone. The Commander stood perfectly still. He didn't have his crutches, but he was still favoring one leg quite a bit. The dalatrass backed up a few steps before every fiber of her being told her to get out of the apartment. She turned blindly around, and raced for the door. A crack indicating the use of biotics sounded behind her. Shepard materialized out of thin air in front of her. Blue electricity coursed its way down his body before disappearing entirely.
"I would not recommend running, dalatrass. I am faster than you, and stronger... Do you know why humans were-are-apex predators?... Of course you don't. The answer is stamina, dalatrass. You may be able to get out of this apartment, but I'll hunt you down. You'll rest, but I won't. I can almost guarantee that you'll falter, but I'll be loping steadily along behind you. I will wait for a very long time...Plus I-ah- locked the door." He put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her backwards a little. The push itself wasn't hard enough to topple her, but it was firm enough to not be polite. "Sit down, dalatrass. We need to talk," he pointed to the couch before grabbing a nearby chair. The chair was a bar stool, and made him tower over her.
She crossed her arms and waited for him to speak. When he didn't she asked, "Are you going to kill me?" She pushed out her chin in an effort to feel like she had some control. Her right hand gripped the couch with a death vise. Despite her best efforts, she trembled.
Shepard turned his head to look out the windows over the Presidium. "No," he said slowly before turning to look at her again. His expression surprised her. It was a pure, unfiltered apology. He looked like he was in physical pain. "I think it's gonna be a suicide."
…
"What did you do after lunch?" Garrus asked with mild interest as Shepard passed him. The Mess wasn't lit so well today. Perhaps one of the light bulbs had burned out.
Someone turned the vid screen on; pulling Shepard's attention away from Garrus and hunting down breakfast. An ANN reporter said, "For viewers just joining us, the body of Dalatrass Linron was found earlier this morning in her Citadel apartment. C-Sec tells us that no foul play is suspected, saying that suicide was likely the cause of death. These are preliminary reports, so new evidence may be brought to light-"
Colt turned off the vid screen, and then turned around to Garrus. He told the turian, "Nothing much my friend."