Author's Note: Previously on With Lions: It's Christmas time on the Normandy! Holiday joy makes Colt homicidal, while everyone else is as happy as anyone can be with the Reapers around. Shepard and the Normandy are on their way to Palaven, but only Colt, EDI, and Joker know what their true destination is. The Commander figures out a way to kill Reapers on Palaven after Hackett ordered him to help the turians on their home world. Sheppy-loo-loo is also trying to avoid Liara because of something Anderson said to him about ruining her life. The great Commander has also been down on himself recently (surprise, surprise). Garrus, in all of his glory, manages to offend Colt by saying mean things about Rowan the Relentless. Rowan happens to be Shepard's father. Everyone shits themselves because saying meany-head things about Colt's father is a good way to die. Garrus is assigned to every chore ever. The Alliance's Fifth Fleet is just outside the relay to Palaven and are more than ready to blow some bitches up.
Also, I think we need to discuss that wait. School just drained me of everything. I am so-so sorry about that wait, guys. The wait probably actually made me sadder than anyone else, so I suffered if that makes anyone feel better. This is also a long, long chapter. So long I split it up into two parts. The first part, what you're about to read, is the trip to the command center. The trip there is always nerve-wracking, so this chapter is pretty angsty. I don't know when part two will be out. I think I'm about half-way done with it.
The little … in the middle of the page usually indicates a change in perspective. For example, the point of view could switch from Liara to Shepard. It can also indicate a time lapse.
Chapters One through Twelve have been re-edited, so go check them out! I will admit that I cringed at some of my old writing. And by some, I mean 90% of it.
...
Chapter Seventy Seven-Part One: Miracle on Palaven
'You are fucked,' James mouthed at Garrus. Chakwas was just shaking her head. Liara was trying to figure out how to counteract Garrus's words. Everyone else was eyeing their surroundings for the nearest exit route. The fifth fleet outside a relay was child's play compared to an upset Shepard.
Garrus knew, as well as the entire galaxy, that mentioning or asking about Shepard's past was cruel. Up until the genius turian's little move, nobody had ever broken that unwritten rule. They could not. Keeping Colt sane was far more important than satisfying curiosity. Garrus had not only broken the rule, but he had done so with gusto. It was an unforgivable crime.
Liara tried to prevent another royal beat down from Colt by nodding at the windows and asking, "What's happening out there?"
Instead of answering, Shepard swung his head to look at something that was invisible to everyone else. He was leaning onto his crutches with his bad leg extended lazily behind him. The green eyes that Liara knew so well narrowed accusingly at an abandoned space by the elevator. Then he turned back to her with a thoughtful look, "Did I-ahh-ever tell you what my father asked me about change?"
Liara shook her head. The question threw her.
"He asked me if I thought one thing could change everything. He asked when I was too young to really understand, so I told him no. How could one thing, one event, one word, one person change so much? For a long time I believed that it took an army, years, events to get anywhere. But now?...Now I know better. There has been so many singular things in my life that have completely turned everything upside down. In my mind, change was something that only had a plural form; eventually I figured out how wrong that assumption was. One is enough. December 23rd, 2169; July 7th, 2176; November 5th, 2176; January 24th, 2178, March 18th, 2180; August 8th, 2183; December 10th, 2183; January 13th, 2184; November 7th, 2185; February 19th, 2186; March 1st, 2186; and August 22nd 2186 can tell you just as much. The thing is, I never knew the significance of these dates before they happened. There was no warning to indicate what was coming. Today is going to be one of those game-changing, singular events. I just have the benefit of knowing that beforehand," Colt said. He looked away again with hungry eyes.
Liara still wasn't grasping what he was trying to say. The blank faces surrounding her told her that no one else was quite understanding either. She didn't even know the significance of half the dates. She only recognized eight of the eleven. Shepard's father died on December 23rd, 2169; an event that happened seventeen years ago today. Elysium transpired on July 7th, 2176. On August 8th, 2183 she met Colt. Saren was defeated on December 10th, 2183. Shepard...passed on January 13th, 2184. Project Lazarus officially succeeded on November 7th, 2185. The Collector Base was infiltrated and destroyed on February 19th, 2186. The Alpha Relay Incident occurred on March 1st, 2186. August 22nd, 2186 marked the invasion of Earth. But the rest were entirely unknown to her and probably to everyone else. Judging by the mostly horrid incidents each date marked, she could not imagine what had happened on the other occasions.
Shepard stood up straighter, returned to them, and looked everyone in the eye. Liara could tell that a speech was being formulated if his eyes were anything to go by. He started to pace back and forth in front of the group assembled at the tables. A few strides of pacing transitioned him into Commander Shepard flawlessly. His suddenly fiery attitude and confident walk created a sort of haze that elevated him from their friend to their untouchable leader. The same haze that only the greats could create made it nearly impossible for Liara to detect his limp. His crutches were equally invisible. The limp and the crutches were all there, they were just insignificant compared to the magnificence he so suddenly displayed. There was no detectable signs of the usual playful, humor-filled tone when he spoke, "What's happening out there is change. The kind that happens in one day. I am changing the course we have set for ourselves. I am reversing every damaging decision, tactic, and strategy that has ever been perpetrated. Today is the last day the Reapers will be winning. The Reapers have grossly miscalculated what the galaxy is capable of. They have never considered that we could win. Today they will reassess that belief. They may have been able to wipe out races before us, but those before didn't have something that we do. They did not have me."
Living in the aftermath of one of the Commander's speeches was a surreal experience. Shepard speeches took place in the universe where everything was possible. They made Liara feel like they could actually win this unwinnable war. It left her feeling invincible and completely capable. Whatever was to come, she could get through it. The notion that the Reapers believed they could beat Shepard was ridiculous. The notion that anyone thought they could beat Shepard was almost laughable.
Javik leaned over to Liara, breaking the trance she found herself in, and whispered, "That had megalomaniac written all over it."
The Commander calmly turned his neck towards Javik, "Perhaps, but that doesn't make it any less truthful. You'll understand in-" Colt checked his omni-tool, "six hours." The Prothean blinked slowly a few times before looking away. Shepard's gaze lasted a few seconds longer. His eyes narrowed menacingly, but the look was gone so soon Liara couldn't even be sure it happened.
The asari looked around at the rest of her friends to see if they agreed with Javik. Not only did most of them look like hadn't even heard the exchange, but they were also watching Shepard with wonderstruck expressions. Listening to one of the most gifted leaders in the galaxy was completely invigorating and utterly mesmerizing. The grand feeling one received after hearing him speak generally blocked out other people. It would have been criminal to say unnecessary things after taking part in a speech where every word counted.
Colt looked up at the ceiling swiftly a half second before Joker started talking, "We're jumping in ten." The Commander halted for a bit before he was moving faster than he had gone in a week. His pacing in front of the group began once more, changing the entire atmosphere again. Shepard brought his commander gaze back to the crew sitting at the Mess tables.
He pointed to some hanging garland that Liara had forgotten existed, "Everything is to be secured. Including Christmas ornaments and such. Especially your stupid tree, Garrus. Do you need help in the med-bay, Doctor Chakwas?" He asked.
"I don't think so, Commander," the doctor said while bustling towards her domain.
"Alright. Let's get going, people," he said. There was a short pause before everyone was in motion. Liara's crewmates scrambled around each other, and flowed around Colt. Plates clattering, cabinets locking, feet trampling, and shouted instructions rang across the deck. The air buzzed with an excitement that usually preceded an oncoming storm. Anyone who had forgotten what it was like to be alive surely would've abandoned the notion that just surviving was an acceptable form of going through life if they had experienced the high emotions running through the Normandy.
Liara considered heading to her room to square away all of her highly breakable, highly expensive equipment. Then she remembered that everything was tied down since their last encounter with Reapers in Sigurd's Cradle. Instead she busied herself by helping Garrus lock storage containers. She caught Colt preparing safety seats and harnesses out of the corner of her eye. Usually he let someone else do that while he commanded the CIC, but it was obvious at this point that this situation was not the usual.
"Two minutes," Joker announced. The noise increased tenfold as every member
struggled to square the ship away. Voices no longer retained their steady confidence, instead they called to each other with great enthusiasm. If nothing else, Shepard knew how to whip up eagerness.
"EDI, how's the CIC?" Shepard called while he hobbled past the asari.
"Secure."
"And the cargo bay? I don't want tons of supplies being tossed around down there," he said. Colt put his crutches away before he limped over to Liara. She had little idea how he was still standing considering that the leg was barely responding to him.
"Secure."
"Tons of supplies?" Said Liara. She tried to think back to the things Shepard had said. Recently his comments had only been self-deprecating; nothing about their latest mission.
"We-ah-took on some additional cargo…How about engineering?" He said. Colt shuffled between the rows of seats, looking increasingly like he was about to fall.
"They are ready for a jump, and evasive maneuvers," the AI answered. At this point, the crew was starting to strap themselves in.
"Evasive maneuvers? Sounds like something dangerous is about happen," Liara said. She settled in a seat nearby the elevator. She liked to think that she was far too controlled to join in on the elation buzzing through the ship. She was not.
Colt continued limping badly between the crew's seats. He either helped them strap down or pulled on the restraints to make sure they were solid. The dark expression tugging at his features reminded her of all the recent worrying things he had said about himself.
Shepard managed to stumble to a chair next to her without face planting. "When is something dangerous not about to happen?" He grinned devilishly and winked. "Rosebud!" The varren jumped into her own seat, and was promptly strapped down by Colt.
...
Colt leaned his head against Liara's shoulder, and closed his eyes. Beads of sweat rolled down his head and neck. A mammoth chunk of trepidation stuck to the insides of his stomach, twisting with all its might. Fear of failing was the culprit behind the disaster brewing inside him. Everything could change with a Palaven victory: the casuality count could go down, planets could be saved, they could become the winners. And all of the responsibility for getting there rested on Shepard's shoulders.
A warm, silken hand pressed against the side of his face, while soft lips kissed his temple. "You didn't mean that, did you?" A lovely voice whispered into his ear. The poison that had boiled in the pit of his stomach suddenly calmed into a manageable ball.
"Mean what?" Colt said. He scooted as close to her as his restraints would allow. If anyone could understand what was happening to him, it would be Liara.
"When you said that you doubted people liked you for...you. You said that people only like you because you're the one pulling us through the war," she murmured. Intoxicating lavender swirled lazily around his nose.
"I only said it 'cuz it's true," he said. Colt opened his eyes to find Liara only inches away from his face, gazing at him lovingly. Shepard wished he knew what he'd done to earn someone like her.
"You've never had any idea on what you do to people," she shook her head.
"I can honestly say, without a shadow of doubt, that I have no idea what you're talking about," Shepard said.
"Haven't you noticed the look a crowd gives you? The individual faces? Or how Garrus or James, or any one of us look at you?"
"Yeah, everyone looks at me like I'm an idiot," he said. This earned him a chuckle, and a short kiss on the lips. If those were his rewards for a joke, then shit, he would pull things like that out of his ass all day.
"Sometimes, but not most of the time," she answered.
"I don't think I believe you."
"You should."
...
Liara figured it out. She knew why the war was so sickening. Obvious reasons like death, and crumbling cultures were apparent. They had been at the start of the war, and would be there to the very end. They were the obvious negatives of war. But there was something else. Something hard to define, hard to see, but there nonetheless. An undertone of something sinister. And she had figured out what it was while she looked at Colt.
He would look fine to the casual observer. Shepard looked young, strong, confident, handsome, and healthy. Liara knew better. Bags under his eyes, the way his shirt didn't fit as well, and slightly hollowed cheeks provided her the answer.
She figured out what it did to the people still alive.
…
"Jumping now," EDI said.
Going through a mass relay felt like going through the galaxy's smallest, fastest tunnel. The entire world turned dark blue, almost black, and a staticy whirring sound deafened everyone on board. The immense speed and power of the whole thing also sent the occupants into their seats with crushing force. The sensation didn't last long, but each millisecond was action packed. Had Colt not been about to pass-out from nerves he would've yelled with delight. Going through a mass relay was probably his fifth favorite thing to do, just behind pissing Miranda off with probes to Uranus.
Their forward momentum decreased dramatically, and the blue light surrounding their ship didn't glow so brightly. Silence reigned for a couple seconds before EDI said, "Jump successful."
The clinking of restraints being unbuckled and moved around was the predominant noise in the crew deck. The enthusiastic hum from before the jump started up again. Colt hated to ruin the mood. "Keep your restraints on! We're not through this yet," Shepard called. Worried faces looked back at him for a moment before his crew started to buckle up again.
He watched closely to make sure everyone secured themselves again, and when he was satisfied that everyone had followed his orders he called, "Everyone good?!" All his crew nodded back.
Joker could be classified as a lot of things. Some things were blatantly untrue, while others were over exaggerated. But one thing remained completely and utterly accurate. Joker was, undisputedly, the best pilot the Alliance had. If getting to the turian's home world through space was possible, his pilot would be the one to do it. "Joker, let's get this show on the road!"
"Gladly, Commander… Attention all crew, prepare for evasive maneuvers. Expect sharp turns, and sudden drops. I'll try not to roll, but no guarantees. Also, please keep your hands, feet, and green, fake legs inside the vehicle at all times. It would be a shame if another one of us became a cripple," the pilot said.
"Says the crippled Porcelain Pilot," Shepard rebuffed.
Garrus laughed, "Shiiit."
The mildly surprised faces of his crew poked out between their seats to look at him. "Ouch," James snickered.
"Hurtful, Commander," Joker replied, his voice no less cheery. The bastard was probably planning on rolling them just to get revenge.
Any reply was drowned out by the thundering noise of the ship's systems. Everything rumbled as their stealth systems, engine, and shields greedily consumed energy. They shook for a couple more seconds before the Normandy plummeted downwards. The sudden change dropped his stomach down into his feet. The sensation of falling got worse, and worse with every passing second until his ship finally leveled out. They seemed like they were flying level, until a turn to right threw everything out of balance again. Colt was thankful that he had skipped breakfast or they'd be participating in a Mako reenactment.
They sprung forward with fervent urgency and the space outside their windows was no longer dull. A spatter of orange and red exploded just outside the starboard windows. When it cleared, Colt could see the chilling figures of Reaper clusters. The sheer number of them blew Shepard's mind. It seemed like the entire airspace was infested with the fuckers. Palaven's glow was visible towards the bow, but the actual planet was out of sight.
An explosion outside the port window completely destroyed Colt's already fragile nerves. Orange blocked out all the windows, and the ship rolled to the right. Up until this point, Colt had been anxious but determined. Now? Now there was no chance he could follow through with his plans.
Saving Palaven was insane. It was over his head. There was no way he could do it. When they reached the planet (if they reached the planet) he would inform the turians that he was too ill to help. He would tell them that he was just there to clear the way for the person who was really supposed to liberate the turian home world. He'd inform them that his only role was combat related, and someone with such a rank as his did not participate in big-wig strategy and tactics. He'd tell them anything, as long as they let him leave. It wasn't too late to escape.
Palaven was a rather dull planet. Everything was gray. Flowers? Gray. Animals? Gray. Sky? Gray. But there was one thing that made the planet entirely impossible to pass over. The Turians. Shepard's father had taught him to respect them at all times. It wasn't hard to do. But saving the entire population of eleven billion people was a responsibility that surpassed any admiration.
"You're okay," Liara's voice managed to break through the downward spiral that Colt's world started to circle into.
"I really cannot do this," he said. At one point saving Palaven had not only been possible, it had also been inevitable. Now Shepard regretted ever assuring Admiral Hackett that he could do something like this.
"Why do you think that?" She asked. She did this annoying thing where she dealt with emotions using logic and reasoning.
How could he not think that? "Do you know how many people are at stake?" He asked. Maybe if one person understood why he changed his mind about helping it wouldn't feel so much like a betrayal.
"No."
"Eleven billion. That's eleven billion people. Each with their own stories. Each with their own families and lives. How can I save eleven billion individuals?" He made himself sick with the thought. The Normandy shook as Joker turned her sharply.
"Did you completely miss your own speech?" Liara asked. Colt was impressed that she continued to talk to him through the rough ride.
"What?"
"You know, the whole one-thing-is-enough speech," she said. That speech. The one he made when he was sure he could pull off liberating Palaven. Had he really said all those things today?
"That was for you guys," Shepard said.
"So, you don't believe it yourself?" Liara replied. Colt was an expert at ruining things.
"I didn't mean that."
"Then what did you mean?"
"It's easier to say something, to tell a story, then it is to actually believe it and act on it," Shepard stopped to collect his thoughts. He looked towards the ceiling for the dual purpose of trying to regain control and avoiding Liara's eyes. "You know, I thought I could do this. I really did," Colt looked down and let the civil war between shame and guilt inside him commence. "How should I tell the turians I'm not gonna help them?"
"Colt...You can still do this. Nothing has changed except your perception of the situation. You can go back to the confidence you felt before," Liara patted his knee, "I have met many, many people during my life. But I have only met one person who I can easily see saving eleven billion people. Just one. This person also happens to be the brightest, most capable person I've ever met," Liara took his hands in hers, "If anyone in this whole galaxy can pull off something like that, it's going to be him. It doesn't matter if it's three people or eleven billion, he'll save them." Another sharp turn and sudden drop didn't help Shepard feel any better.
"Is this person Garrus?" Colt asked.
She laughed, "Yes."
"I fuckin knew it. That damn turian gets all the credit all the damn time. What about the others, Liara? What about Javik?"
"I think Javik will get over it. Plus he'll have his day when I get around to writing a book. But for now, today is about someone else. Whatever needs to happen, you'll be able to pull it off."
Need was a terrible word, as was have to. Needs couldn't be compromised with. He couldn't get away from them. Couldn't run. It meant he was locked in. If he wanted to do something but quit, it was okay. He'd be the only person disappointed in himself. But if he needed to do something and didn't...There was nothing worse.
Liara's words just… they weren't the right ones. He appreciated what she said, he really did, but it wasn't quite what he wanted to hear. She said he could pull it off, but there was nothing about what happened if he failed. He just needed someone, anyone, to tell me him that they'd still love him if he failed miserably. Unconditional love was something he had always wanted but would never get.
Liara started softly, "I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that you have to do this, 'cuz you don't. No one can force you to do something. You're probably the only one that can do this," Oh God, "but you don't have to do anything you don't want to," Liara was making him even more antsy than before. "But don't you want to save eleven billion people? You don't have to save them Shepard. You don't. But don't you want to?"
"Of course I want to, but-"
"That's it then. You want to do this. Don't keep telling yourself that you have to do this, tell yourself that you want to do this."
"It's not that simple," he said. Another explosion outside the port window forced Joker to roll the ship again. This time it didn't seem so jarring.
"It is. If you think about the situation differently, it will look different. I promise. I do it all the time, it's the only way I can do some things," she said gently.
"What sorts of things?"
Liara's smile was not an expression that should've been worn by a young maiden. Her voice was equally heartbreaking, "Let's talk about it later."
He sighed, "Liara-"
"We'll talk about it, just not now," she replied. Shepard wanted to stop everything, pause the war. He wanted a few minutes to concentrate all of his attention on Liara. Had he been so focused on the war that he had forgotten to look at those right beside him?
"Okay…," Colt searched her face for any clues, but it was free from indicators.
The Normandy's sudden, violent shaking prevented Shepard from prying anymore. The ship shuddered; from entering Palaven's atmosphere or dodging a Reaper he could not tell. Intense electric blue outside the windows made it impossible to see out of them. They were tossed around for a few seconds before they stilled completely. The windows cleared, and the turian home world's landscape came into view.
The ship soared through Palaven's flat, gray sky for less than a minute before they were expertly maneuvered into a port's docking bay. Arms extended out of the dock and pressed against the Normandy's side, effectively locking the ship in place. They had made it through the breeding ground of doubt: The Ride There. The Ride There was the most dreaded thing to almost every elite combatant he had ever met. At least in combat people were doing, they weren't thinking. In combat, there was no time to consider the magnitude of fucking up. The Ride There was different. The Ride There meant time to think, time to contort the situation, time to consider what was riding on every breathe. It was the very definition of hell. But Colt had made it through. That was something.
"We're here!" Joker sang over the intercom. 'The Galaxy's Best Damn Pilot' was a title Shepard would never let Joker live down.
"You can take your harnesses off, guys. That should be the end of the excitement for now," Colt hollered. His friends unbuckled quickly and ran for the windows. Liara threw off her own restraints easily and followed the excited mob.
"Palaven?" She asked. Turian architecture dominating the port and the gray everything made the destination guessing game easy.
"Correct. What gave it away? The gray or the gray?" Shepard didn't care what anyone said, he was funny.
Liara turned around from the window back towards him. Guilt almost radiated from her. Confusion clouded Shepard's mind at the strange emotion. Then it hit him. She must've felt guilty for leaving him behind while she checked out the planet.
He was so tired of being the burden that made everyone feel guilty. Sure his leg had been blown off, but now it was time to move on from that. It was time for his new leg to respond to his nervous system, it was time for him to walk freely, it was time for him to return to his life and let everyone else return to theirs. Getting left behind and then guilting everyone when they remembered they had gone on without him was a bit cruel, even for Shepard.
"Spirits, that was awful," Garrus chimed in.
"If you think that I don't have a million turian jokes, prepare to be proven wrong," Colt said.
"By the Goddess," Liara muttered.
"Don't act like you don't think I'm funny," Colt beamed at her.
"You're lucky you're cute," Liara smiled.
"And reasonably good at fighting. Don't forget that. Any other person would've been kicked off the happy-bappy horn-tootin Normandy by now if they even attempted half the shitty jokes you do," Gar Bear said.
"Never, ever describe my ship as happy-bappy horn-tootin again. And that's an order Garrus," Colt said.
"While I do enjoy watching primitives prove their inferiority, don't you think we should prepare, Commandah?" Javik pissed Colt off even more when he was right.
"I suppose you're right. Everybody gather around...Those of you that I have asked to accompany me need to get into their gear at this point. We'll head out in forty minutes. Those that are staying just need to sit tight. Maybe watch ANN, maybe bake me cakes. It's up to you," Colt said. He turned around to get ready himself when he remembered one of the most crucial aspects of their visit. "One more thing guys. Don't wear any of your normal combat gear or anything marked. Especially anything that links you to the Alliance or me. If you don't already have unmarked clothing, you can find it over there," he pointed to the row of lockers by the Med-Bay.
Colt hobbled away from the small meeting towards the elevator. He tried to pass the windows without stopping, but he found himself too caught up in the beauty to keep going.
"What'cha lookin at?" Liara's voice came up from behind him. She slid her arm across his back when she reached his side. He nodded to the sunrise that was just beginning to gift the world. Its golden light swept across Palaven's ashen, crater-riddled surface with slow purpose. Not even the looming figures of Reapers in the sky or Palaven's usual dullness could ruin the picture.
"Sunrises are always magnificent, wherever we go," Liara noted. She looked unworldly while she watched the sky, somehow being even more captivating than the sight outside.
"How do you do it?" He wondered, more to himself.
"Do what?" She replied.
Colt turned to face her fully while her voluminous eyes studied him with curiosity. He struggled to find the words that properly expressed her, but he was only able to open and close his mouth stupidly. Words would just fall flat.
"Shepard," Garrus sang. The turian walked up on Colt's other side and put his talons on Shepard's shoulder.
"Fun fact, turians stop roosting when their sun starts to rise and they cock-a-doodle-doo to lubricate their gullets and prime their waddles," Colt grinned at Gar Bear. Lying was a favorite pastime of his.
"That-that's actually a total lie," Garrus laughed, "But I do love offensive jokes, especially coming from someone like you."
"'Especially coming from someone like you?' What does that even mean?" Shepard asked.
"You shit the very essence of harmony and cooperation."
"I had no idea that my colon was such a saint," Colt giggled, and then added, "Krogan food nights will probably change your mind about that."
"By the Goddess," Liara muttered.
"Now you'll never look at a sunrise the same again," Shepard
"It's not like I enjoyed them or anything," she said.
"Perfect! Nothing lost then," Shepard thought for a second, "Wait, I'm supposed to be super pissed at you," he said to Garrus. He was also supposed to be protecting Liara through avoidance, but that wasn't happening very effectively either. It was hard to ignore people who were so lovable.
"Not anymore, I charmed you with my...charms," the turian said.
"You definitely did not," Colt said. He was mostly over Garrus's comments. Mostly. "Meet us in the cargo bay," he told Garrus. "Rosie!" Colt called his varren. Shepard headed off to the elevator with Rosebud; Liara trailed behind.
Once the doors closed and he pressed the buttons for his cabin and the cargo bay, he giggled, "Garrus is a shithead." He didn't actually believe it. Colt just enjoyed the drama of the sentence, but in reality he felt no ill-will towards the turian. It was so freeing to not feel actual anger for once.
God, did he miss the not-actually-being-angry part. His anger at Garrus had come and gone in a two minute time period; something he hadn't experienced in some time. That aggravation had been like before. Before referring to when he actually had some control over his emotions. These recent weeks felt like a roller coaster of emotion that he had no say in. The direction the destructive cart of emotional distress went in no longer consulted him. He was just pulled in, strapped down, and transformed into a mess of wrath that was miles away from his actual self. Colt had started to believe that he had no control over himself anymore. But this incident with Garrus proved that maybe he still possessed some control over his emotional state...Actually, probably not.
"I'm sorry," she sighed.
Colt whipped around to her; the tone of her voice scared him. "Why? You weren't being the little shit."
Liara put a hand to her forehead and said, "It's just that...no one's making this easy on you. You'd think Garrus would just have the common sense to have stopped. Instead he-he goes and does that. It just seems like we're hurting more than helping."
"I can tell you pretty easily that you guys are helping a lot more than hurting," he said. The doors opened to his cabin, but he didn't want to get out. The conversation had barely begun.
But when duty called, it screamed. Colt had to get into his own unmarked clothing, as did Liara. They couldn't afford to spew words of comfort all over each other, not when Palaven was on the line. Shepard twiddled with his crutches for a bit before he walked into that awkward space between his cabin and the elevator. Rosebud padded along beside him. The doors to the elevator started to shut until one of Liara's hands darted out to stop the door. She said, "I guess that's a relief then...Unless you're lying."
Colt smiled, "I know that I may have seemed upset recently...Not myself. But that is no one's fault but my own. Garrus didn't do it. Chakwas didn't. And you definitely have nothing to do with what's been happening lately. I did it. The Reapers did it. Blame the stress, blame the death, blame everyone except those on this ship. So don't feel guilty. I just get this way sometimes, it happens, you know? It passes, don't worry."
...
Colt and Rosebud stepped off the elevator into the hangar bay. The people joining him on the mission were milling about in the tiny space they had. The cargo bay was almost completely filled. Cargo was stacked to the ceiling and laid out in long rows leaving a tiny corridor for everyone to live in. He passed around and through groups that were talking quietly amongst themselves.
Shepard didn't plan on talking to anyone individually before they headed out, but the sight of Traynor made him stop. She was alone and huddled into a corner. Most people seemed a little nervous, but the Specialist's entire body was shaking. "Don't worry, my friend, we're not engaging in any kind of combat," Shepard said while he hobbled towards her. He put his hand on her shoulder to try and convince her that everything really was okay. He said, "We're gonna be alright, alright?"
"I'm okay, Shepard, it's just nerves," she didn't sound very convincing.
"Nerves are a bitch, that's for damn sure."
"You nervous, sir?"
"Yeah, but that's okay. Nerves make our minds clearer and our skills sharper. What are you nervous about anyways?" He asked.
"I've never really been on a...mission? Is that what this is? Anyways, what if I fail or do something wrong or say something stupid...sir?"
Shepard wasn't Shepard without his inspiring speeches. "First off, I say stupid shit all the time and I'm doing pretty okay, so don't worry about that. Secondly, you won't fail. I have no doubt in my mind that you will not only do your job, you'll also do it spectacularly. I wouldn't have brought you along if I thought otherwise. I have the utmost faith and confidence in you," he replied.
"Th-thank you, Sir. That means a lot, it really does."
"Well, how could I possibly liberate Palaven without bringing along my trusty Specialist? Also, pet Rosebud. It helps, I swear," Colt gave her a final shoulder pat before he headed for the cargo bay's center. Taking a deep breath calmed him down a little more and convinced him that it was time to go. No more waiting, no more putting it off. "All right guys, line up." He called. The group coming with him lined up diligently.
"Everybody ready?" Colt surveyed the group in front of him. None of them were wearing anything with official Alliance markings. His own clothing consisted of an unmarked plain black breather suit.
"Yessir," they said together.
"Good. Victus tell your people that we're ready to head in," the Spectre replied.
"Sounds good, Shepard," the turian pulled up his omni-tool and headed to somewhere quieter.
Shepard turned back to his people, "I know this doesn't need to be said, but the Admirals insisted that I say something," he stopped to scan their faces, "This is another race's planet. We are guests here. I expect each and every one of you to uphold the Alliance's image. If, for any reason, the turian's want us out, we're out. We have no jurisdiction here. Your behavior not only reflects you, it also reflects me as a leader, and the Alliance as a whole. Maintaining good relations with the turians means that we must be at one hundred percent this trip. Disrespect to any turian will not be tolerated and will be dealt with accordingly. I know that some of us aren't huge fans of turians or their hierarchy, but it does not matter. Any ill will towards them must be left here. It's gonna take everyone to defeat the Reapers, so any bad blood between races could jeopardize our chances of winning. Am I clear?"
"Yessir." They all reassured him. Colt didn't think there'd be any issues.
"Commander, we're ready," Victus yelled.
"Alright. Helmets on! Cortez, lower the hanger door," Shepard said. He put on his own helmet while the doors opened. Boots thudding heavily on the ground indicated that the small army taking them to the Command Center had arrived.
Turian soldiers in full battle armor charged into the hanger in four lines once the door was completely lowered. The soldiers surrounded the small party and encased them in a protective square. They were packed together so tightly that Shepard's inner claustrophobic little girl wanted to scream before passing out into a pile of vomit. Maybe if he had an aneurysm the turians wouldn't be angry at him for letting them all die because of some irrational fear. And yes, Colt was an optimist.
One of the turians stepped out of the formation towards Victus, "Is everyone ready to move, sir?"
"Yes, I think so," the Primarch answered.
"Very good, sir," the Turian replied. He called out something Colt didn't pick up, and everyone started moving.
They moved slowly since Colt couldn't break any land/speed records using his crutches. They were taken through an almost entirely empty port; the only occupants being more turian soldiers placed heavily along their path. Victus hadn't cut any corners concerning safety.
The port had probably been light gray all over. Now its color varied between bright green and a disgusting, dirty gray. Its once sharp, aggressive architecture had probably hosted angular walls with sharp spirals extending from its roof. The structure was now in ruin, destroyed by warfare. Its hallways were tall and narrow, making Colt feel even more claustrophobic. They even traveled through a larger corridor that had grass growing through the floor. There was bullet holes in the walls, and badly cleaned stains splattered across the floor. Shepard hadn't bothered to actually seal his helmet so the thick scent of urine managed to leak through. The port's generator wasn't faring any better. The lights stayed on periodically before they flickered or went out entirely.
Their journey had been sad more than it had been creepy. That changed in the medical hallway. They passed by a series of rooms that had been makeshift hospitals. Syringes layered the floor around worn hospital beds and chairs. Some of the x-ray light boxes were still on and displayed images of splintered limbs and shattered bones. Some of the rooms had blue blood sprayed everywhere. Even more beds lined the walls just outside the empty hospital rooms. At one point the port must've been a shelter.
All in all, it was a pretty shitty place. He was almost giddy when the group was led from the slobbish confines to a hanger attached to the port.
Enormous armored trucks lined up in a caravan greeted them in the hanger. Their tires were taller than Shepard and their armor was a dull gray. Probably to fit in with Palaven's delightful scenery. Most of the trucks lacked any weapons; they were just transport vehicles.
Climbing into them with his bad leg was an adventure of its own. It took three turians pulling and two pushing to finally get him into one of the trucks. Their interiors were not built for comfort. The transport vehicles were a super fun mix of dimly lit obstacles and highly uncomfortable seats. Two rows of seats lined the walls and a small light bulb above each seat provided barely enough light to see. The seats themselves were reminiscent of dragging his ass through a riverbed with smooth, bumpy rocks. Maybe turians' scaly asses fared better on bumpy surfaces, but it sure as hell wasn't comfortable for Colt's delicate bum. Then there was the weapon racks placed strategically in the middle of the isle that proved to be quite an obstacle for someone who could barely walk. The only redeeming aspect of the vehicles-from-hell were two smallish screens that displayed live footage from cameras positioned on either side of the truck.
"These seats were not designed for us," Liara whispered in his ear. She threw him a pained look. Rosebud was hoisted into the vehicle by some turians; she then promptly climbed into Colt's lap. Her presence helped him calm down even more.
"This actually explains so much about Garrus. Explains why he's so...Garrus-like."
"The seats explain why Garrus is so Garrus?" Liara jested.
"Well it explains why he's so damn broody all the time. I bet the calibrations were just a front for him stewing over his repressed seat emotions. He probably wrote bad poetry about them and then sent it to Tali," Colt answered.
"Did we really just travel down the repressed seat emotions trail?"
"We skipped, gleefully, down that trail. I'm telling you, this may not be the main reason for his broodiness, but it definitely didn't help. No one would be normal after sitting in these seats for as long as he probably had to," Shepard said,"...Aaaaannnnd now you're thinking about Garrus's ass. You're welcome."
"What is it with humans and butts?" Liara shook her head.
"I know several fine, young asari strippers who would argue all day that asari are ten times more obsessed about asses," the Commander said.
"You know several fine, young asari strippers, Colt? Is there something we need to discuss?" Liara's eyebrows rose while a playful smile graced her lips.
Shepard grimaced and said, "I regret this."
"Do you regret having stripper friends or telling me you have stripper friends?"
"Yes."
"I see."
"Well, you have stripper friends, too," Colt grinned triumphantly. He really didn't think he'd have to elaborate further. Everybody had stripper friends, even Liara.
"Like who?" This time only one of Liara's eyebrows rose. Of course Liara didn't have any stripper friends. She was Liara.
Colt did this super fun, super useful thing where he talked before he actually thought about what he was going to say. It was especially useful at parties or around hot girlfriends. "Javik."
Liara snorted with laughter, "Javik is not a stripper."
"Yes, he is. Stupid, sexy, sexy Javik. The ladies just have a thing for his four eyes and accent. Plus, who could go wrong with his feisty personality and general disdain? His clients call him The Spicy Crumpet."
"Th-e...Sp-icy...Cr-um-pet?" Liara managed to get out between fits of laughter.
"The Spicy Crumpet!" Shepard shook his fist in the air.
"Shepard," Traynor's voice failed halfway through saying his name. He looked at her crestfallen face and then towards the screens showing the outside world. He'd have rather discussed Javik's crowd-pleasing career further, but people never let him stay happy for long.
Turians of every clan, color, and age were either sitting beside the fence keeping them off the road or they were moving ahead steadily in packs. The packs didn't seem to have a specific membership requirement; those with prestigious markings and those without walked side-by-side. The bands of turians pressed close to the fence and occasionally glanced at the caravan.
"Can someone zoom in, please?" Shepard asked.
The screens blurred for a second before they refocused on the much clearer faces of fleeing turians. The first thing he noticed was their indifference towards the trucks. Their glances towards the caravan were without greed or need. That surprised Colt; he expected looks of hate. He thought turians would be clawing and climbing over the fence trying to reach them. Shepard thought they'd be more desperate to get away. Maybe their militarized culture kept them calm. It was hard to say.
The second thing he noticed was the thinness that poisoned everyone. Dull eyes and hollow cheeks were commonplace. Emaciated turians staggered forward on weak knees and failing muscles. Those lucky enough had loved ones to pull them back on their feet when they stumbled. Not-so-fortunate turians stayed where they fell.
Each camera refocused on a different spot and confirmed that thinking that the turians weren't desperate was a mistake. Those who fell were trampled if they didn't stand fast enough. Crushed to death by one's own species had to be one of the worst ways to go. Death by indifference stung.
The camera lingered on a scene where an elderly turian fell to his knees until he was kicked off balance and fell face first to the ground. His fellow people stepped on him until blue blood flowed freely from his nose and mouth. No one even looked down while they stepped on him. The camera switched to a different place in the migration before a final resolution was shown to the truck's occupants. Colt could only hope that death took him swiftly.
"Goddess...," Liara's tone bit. It was shocked and it was sharp in the way that only genuine horror could be. Her hand darted out suddenly and gripped his tightly. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. His resolution to save Palaven had crept back with Liara's reassurances and had finally made the decision to stay when he watched the trampling. While getting out of his duty towards the turian people still sounded nice, it no longer felt like an option. Abandoning anyone in their hour of need wasn't something a Shepard did. Colt wouldn't allow himself to betray himself like that. He would not be someone he was not just because he was scared.
The cameras went black, confusing Shepard. It took way too long for him to realize that they had finally gone underground. Colt's main focus was surviving the bile that crept up his throat from claustrophobia. They continued going deeper and deeper underground for an eternity. Phobias had a way of extending small periods of time into forevers.
No one spoke as they descended further into the earth. Only the rumbling engine and the crunch of dirt under the massive tires could be heard. There just wasn't a whole lot anyone could say after watching someone die so horrifically.
The trucks stopped with a slight screech from the brakes. The couple lights lighting the interior cast an eerie glow upon everyone's face before the whoosh of hydraulics sounded and all the doors opened. Artificial, harsh light hounded Colt's eyes as it flooded into the truck. As he adjusted to the light change, he could see rock walls just outside.
Victus's outline appeared at the back door, "Ready?"
"Yes, let's go," Shepard said. The two turian soldiers closest to the doors stood up and went down the steps. Next up was EDI and Traynor, and so on and so forth until it was only him, Rosebud, Liara, and two turian soldiers.
"You okay?" Liara asked him. She made no move to get up.
"No, but we're here now, so I've gotta do it," he replied.
Liara nodded thoughtfully. She understood that duty could be a royal bitch to Shepard.
"Go ahead and get Rosebud out first," he said to her, "I'll need you to help me out."
She stood and made her way to the back doors. "Come here, Rosie," the asari called. When the varren padded up to her, Liara used her biotics to lower her out of the truck. Liara then went down a few steps before turning around. Shepard stood shakily before limping slowly after her. He used the seats to keep himself from falling down. The soldiers behind him offered no assistance. Colt made his way to the door, then started the dangerous trip down the steps with his bad leg. Liara gripped his shoulder tightly as he hauled himself down.
It was going fine until his useless leg caught on one of the steps. Liara's grip tightened around his shoulder, but his momentum was too much and he tumbled forward. The Spectre was thrown off the steps towards his death. He put his hands out to catch his fall, but he never landed. When it became apparent that he should've smacked the ground, he opened one eye to see if he had ended up dead from a broken neck.
Instead of hell, he found blue light encasing his entire body and his face an inch from the rock floor. He was moved slowly from being horizontal to the ground to being vertical with it and then set lightly on his feet. The air on his side crackled with power as Liara jumped from the steps to stand next to him. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder before he could do anything stupid like collapse.
"Now that was bad ass," Shepard said to his impressive woman friend. He became aware of laughter to his right. Garrus was bent over with laughter, Traynor was cracking up, Vega was cackling with laughter, EDI was just there, Victus was very close to bursting out laughing, Javik was smirking, and all his beloved Ensigns and Lieutenants were barely keeping themselves together. What loyal friends.
"Sir, this way," a turian said from the front of the truck. He nodded at the colossal door that towered over the caravan. At least someone was considerate enough to overlook his dramatic fall.
Commander Shepard moved forward on his crutches towards the door that would lead into his greatest victory or his greatest defeat. His green leg, which he named Tomorrow, half dragged, half cooperated behind him. Hearing it drag behind him through the dirt was the exact opposite of being reassuring. It felt like watching a piece of toast land on the floor butter-side down. It was just plain disturbing.
Liara stood closer than she normally would in public. The Spectre blamed that fact on his startling good looks and not on his award-winning tumble. Garrus stood as close on his opposite side. Colt didn't miss the concerned glances between the turian and asari.
The rest of his entourage of Traynor and Ensigns followed behind. They were enveloped by turians on all sides while they made their excruciatingly slow journey to the door of destiny. Truck after towering truck passed them by on their walk. The carved out tunnel was lit by light bulbs that were strung together by thick rubber tubing.
Shepard wasn't quite prepared for how monumental the door into the command center was. Sure he could see how large it was when they were walking towards it, but actually standing in front of it was a whole different experience. It's intricate designs, clashing colors, and mechanical workings was like an acid trip from hell. Colt couldn't keep his eyes off the damn thing due to its pure bizarreness. The door was the farthest from turian anything that just about anyone could get.
"What the…" The Spectre stopped himself.
"Just because my people aren't accustomed to an overabundance of color doesn't mean that we can't create something colorful," Garrus huffed.
"I agree, but this isn't just creating something colorful. This is eating Fruity Crunches cereal and throwing up on a canvas while tripping on some very, very potent drug," Colt said, knowing full well what that exact experience felt like. He looked over to find Liara's mouth open and her staring incredulously. Rosebud even seemed captivated. "And why is it underground? Why is it leading into a command center? It'll never be seen down here," the Commander said perplexed.
"That's the point, Commander. The Reapers would never get to it down here," another turian he didn't recognize said, "We had to construct a new command center for your arrival, sir, and the decision to keep the door hidden down here was also made."
"You guys constructed an entirely new command center in less than a week?" Shepard was impressed.
"Yes, sir, our other command centers were destroyed. We also figured that keeping a few of our art pieces safe would be in our people's best interests," the same turian said respectfully.
"I'm impressed. Very impressed. Doing what you have to to protect your culture is the way to go," Colt agreed.
"Very good, sir. If you could just stand here," he pointed at a piece of ground a little to his left, "We just need to scan you and your party's biometrics before we can open the door."
Colt went where he was asked and stood still. The biometric scanner unfolded from its sheath on the wall and rotated in a circle while it scanned Garrus, Liara, and Colt. Shepard closed his eyes in attempt to forget the last time he was scanned for biometrics. It didn't work.
The cold talons of panic pierced his gut. It shredded his stomach before it crept into his chest. Every atom in him screamed at him to run, to throw up barriers, to do anything but stand there. His heart kicked into overdrive and drove his ice-cold blood through his veins. What little control he had flew away in a flurry that left him hopeless and shaking. Colt's thoughts blurred and adrenaline pounded through his veins. Concentrated terror shot through every inch of him and left him breathless. He staggered a bit as he tried to stop himself from turning and bolting.
A hand gripped his right shoulder and then another hand gripped his left. "Shepard!" Someone yelled in his ear.
…
Everything was fine. Everything was okay. They'd just been getting scanned so they could enter the command center. Garrus was fine, albeit a little worried about Shepard's leg. Liara was okay besides feeling acute concern over her boyfriend. Rosebud was happily panting beside her owners. Colt was fine. Everyone was fine.
Then it wasn't.
Liara stood patiently while the red lights criss-crossed across her face. Colt's emotions spiked dramatically, earning a glance. He was standing still, with his eyes closed, for about a second before the color completely drained from his face. Shepard swayed into his left crutch, while his left hand grabbed at his chest.
"Shepard," Liara whispered harshly. He still didn't open his eyes. "Commander Shepard!" She whispered again.
Shepard's breathing started off at normal breathes and escalated into hyperventilation. Wheezing breaths choked out of his mouth. He swayed dangerously when his left hand was pulled violently to his chest.
"Commander?" The turians escorting them had turned to watch with surprised looks plastering their faces. Some stepped out to try and help, but Liara shook their head at them. He needed space. Rosebud leapt up from her sitting position and bristled up. The varren swung around her head as if she was trying to find the enemy that was causing such a reaction in her owner.
"Commander!" Traynor and the rest of the Normandy personnel pushed their way to the four.
Colt's eyes were still sealed shut and his left hand still gripped his chest. His hyperventilation was getting worse, to the point where it sounded more like sobbing. His knees quivered like he was about to run as far and as fast as possible.
"I think we should get him into the Command Center," Garrus shouted at Liara.
"Agreed," Liara called. She looped her arm under his shoulder, while Garrus did the same, and they pulled him through the door.
Just inside the door was a poorly lit tunnel that lead to a bright light at the end. "Just set him down here," Liara said. Garrus moved to stand in front of Shepard where he wrapped his arms under both of the Spectre's shoulders and around his back before setting him down lightly. Liara grabbed both of his crutches and set them against the cold, carved tunnel wall.
"It's alright, buddy, you're okay," Garrus sat down beside Colt and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. Rosebud climbed into his lap and whined softly.
Liara knelt down in front of him and took his helmet in her hands, "Colt, you're okay. You're okay. Can you hear me?"
Finally, Colt did open his eyes to look at the asari. Terror flashed like lightning across his dilated pupils. Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his face. Colt glanced around wildly like a caged animal looking for an escape. "Colt, listen to me. You're safe. Nothing can hurt you here. It's fine," Liara soothed.
His heavy breaths slowed and the frightened look in his eye subsided. The Spectre's trembling body slowed until he only quivered periodically.
"Wh-where are we?" He asked shakily. The color in his face started to return back to normal and he was no longer grabbing at his chest.
"We're in the beginning part of the Command Center," Garrus answered. The turian was still gripping the Commander's shoulders tightly.
"Are you okay?" Liara asked.
"No, no, not really."
The asari was a bit reluctant to ask, but she did anyways, "Do...Do you know what caused, umm, that?"
"Th-at biomet-ric scanner. The last ti-me so...something scanned me like that, I lost my leg and Thane," Colt stuttered. A shaky hand reached out to stroke Rosebud.
Liara should've known. She should've told them no to the scanner, she just should've known. "The scanner," she quietly chastised herself. "I think we should go back to the Normandy and try this again tomorrow," she said louder.
"I agree," Garrus nodded in support, "We'll all feel much better if we get a fresh start."
"No. We do this today. If I leave now, I will never come back. It's now or never," Shepard said.
"...Okay," Liara nodded slowly, "I trust your judgment."
"Liara!" Garrus hissed.
"No one knows what Shepard can take better than Shepard. If he says he has to do this today, he has to do this today. If he says he can do this today, he can do this," she replied.
...
"Fine," the turian growled.
"Help me up," Colt said.
Liara stood to grab his crutches while Garrus pulled him back to his feet. The commander lifted his arms while the asari positioned his crutches comfortably. This was a daily occurrence between the two, so it was done quickly and efficiently.
"Can you do this, Shepard?" Garrus stood in front of his friend, hands crossed across his chest. The turians was searching Shepard's face. For what, Colt didn't know.
"Yes."
"Okay...Let's go kick some Reaper ass!" Garrus shouted as he and Shepard high fived/threed enthusiastically.
"Hell ya!" Colt screamed back. The pair chest bumped so hard that they flew backwards into the tunnel walls. The Spectre almost landed fully on his ass. He climbed back onto his feet and crutches and finally noticed the absence of just about everyone. "Wait, where's the rest of the munchkins?"
"Commandah!" Traynor yelled as the rest of the small Normandy group made their way into the tunnel. They moved like bats out of hell, and looked like they were just about ready to kick ass and take names.
"There's the munchkins!" Colt laughed.
"Are you okay, sir?" Ensign Daniels asked.
"Nothing Ryncol can't cure. Are the other turians coming?"
"No, sir, they're staying out there to act as guards. Victus should be coming along any minute, however," Traynor explained.
"Spirits, Commander, are you alright?" Victus's form materialized when the acid door was opened once more.
"Biometric scanners aren't really my thing, sir," The Spectre glanced at his bad leg.
Understanding flashed across the turians face, softening his eyes a bit. He nodded at the Commander, but said nothing more.
"You guys ready to go?" Shepard shook himself a bit before leveling his gaze at his crew.
"Yessir," They agreed.
"Good, good. Let us go forth and kicketh some Reaper ass!" Colt roared. Then he turned and half galloped, half tripped to the entrance into the command center's main room. Rosebud loped happily alongside him. The other members of the group followed behind, considerably less excited.
Commander Shepard exited the poorly lit, dank tunnel into the entrance of the elite command center. The entire room was carved out of rock and existed on a grand scale. Its ceiling soared at least twenty feet high, and was shaped like an oval. Its sides were easily forty to fifty feet in length, maybe more. White screens covered every inch of the walls, some were even on and tuned into turian channels. In the center lay an island comprised of a holographic battle map. Several turians were working around the centerpiece. A platform, two or three feet above the rock ground, connected to the sides, hugged the entirety of the oval's circumference with the exception of a small hole for the door. There was a pathway between the battle map and the platform. Terminals lined the platform, only stopping ten feet from the right side's end to make room for a row of QECs. A group of turians had been speaking together on the platform until they noticed his presence. They moved towards him as a unit before a lone turian emerged slightly ahead of the pack. Colt's own group had caught up and stood behind him.
"Thanks for coming sir," the turian said. His blood-red facial flock markings had three jagged lines curving downwards just under his eyes. Markings of the Rabirius Clan; a highly respected group within the Turian Hierarchy that played a massive role in military affairs (they were also surprisingly good cooks). They were ruthless in nature, unnaturally cold in private affairs, exceptionally manipulative, and generally unpleasant. Basically they were his mom in turian form. This Rabirius member just happened to be General Cassian Rabirius, an uncompromising general who had a reputation for tolerating humans. He also was an 'the ends justify the means' kind of guy. He was exactly what Shepard needed. General Cassian continued, "Our QEC was down a few days, so we don't have the pleasure of knowing who is assisting us."
Shepard released the seals on his helmet before sliding it off his head. In the process, he noticed that his hair had already grown a couple inches and was slick with sweat. "Hello," he greeted them with a salute, "I completely understand about QECs, sir. They're great, but when they fail, they fail hard," Shepard smiled before he began his tedious, rehearsed speech, "The Human Systems Alliance sends their regards and looks forward to helping our turian friends and allies against the greatest threat this galaxy has ever faced. The Alliance also humbly requests a formal military ceremony to affirm human and turian ties, after the Messines Offensive is completed of course. I would also personally like to thank the Hierarchy for their handling of my associates and my arrival on Palaven. I have felt completely safe since we touched down, no small feat I am sure."
Shepard had suggested a ceremony between the Alliance and turians considering the fact that turians foamed at the mouth whenever anyone mentioned a military ceremony (sometimes literally, if rumors were to be believed). Hackett had been skeptical at first, not extremely keen to kiss ass during a war, but he came around.
Watching the turians' faces go from realization to shock ever since he took off his helmet was an interesting experience. "Thank you, Commander. But you'll have to excuse us for a moment," he said while turning around to consult with his colleagues.
"No problem," Colt said.
He knew the look on the fucker's face and he knew that voice. Incredulous. Skeptical. That look had been commonplace in Shepard's life. He knew what was going to come next.
The turians were a few feet away, but that didn't mean a whole lot with Shepard's ears. One said, "This is who the Alliance sends us?"
Another said, "I thought Shepard was a combat soldier. I have no doubt in his skills, but how could the Alliance send someone like that? A poster child? Are they trying to insult us somehow?"
"Sending a frontline soldier to do an admiral's job? What experience does he have? Does he even know what to do? This has to be a message-or-or a trap or something," Cassian whispered harshly.
"That is enough," Primarch Victus growled, "Sending Commander Shepard was no mistake on the Alliance's part."
"Are you quite sure, Primarch?" Cassian challenged. Shepard would've written him up for that level of insubordination.
"I am, General. Shepard is a welcome face," Victus was seething and towering over him.
"Very good, sir," the General replied. The group turned back towards Shepard; all except Victus glowered at him. But that was good. He could prove them wrong. It added fuel to the fire. Colt had another reason to save Palaven.
Victus put his talons on Cassian's arm and snarled, "If you ever speak to me like that again, we are going to have problems." Shepard looked around at the faces beside him to see if they heard the exchange, but it appeared he was the only one. Victus's livid gaze morphed into something a million times more respectful when he looked at Colt. "Commander, the Turian Hierarchy welcomes such an esteemed and honored member of the Alliance and Spectres. We are grateful for your assistance in these troubling times," The Primarch paused before he began again with a low, thoughtful voice, "I think one of your speeches says it best. 'Unity is my favorite word and my greatest obstacle. An obstacle because it's a necessity that many do not see as a necessity. A love because its meaning and importance does not ebb away with time. But its importance is only magnified with the flash of a sword and is lost with a dove's first flight. We must keep up its vitals with whatever the times bring, whether that be pain or peace. A shame that life must leak for us to see how truly freeing the idea is. We must take the lessons forced upon us by the Reapers, and adapt policies that better reflect unification. We cannot let petty divisions and silly squabbles stand in the way of a united effort against the enemy. For when this war is finished we shall benefit in peace what war has brought…' The Hierarchy cannot express its gratitude enough, Commander."
"At least someone listens to what I say," Shepard laughed, "I'm happy to help, Primarch. It doesn't hurt that you know some of my speeches by heart, either."
"It was a great speech, Commander. I'll have to confirm times and dates, but the Hierarchy would be more than willing to be part of a ceremony," Victus said.
"Thank you, sir. Is it alright if we begin?" Shepard asked.
…
One last thing. I feel like I owe everyone some food for thought for that ridiculous wait, so here it is: Garras is talons in Spanish. Don't worry, I was blown away too.