Author's Note: First off, I would like to thank those who have favorited, followed, and reviewed. You guys keep me writing! And you have superb taste.
Secondly, I would like to thank SiBu92 for keeping my story true to the lore of Mass Effect. They pointed out that turian blood is in fact blue and not green. In the previous chapter I had said that our favorite members of a certain hierarchy had green blood, which is just not true. I have since updated that mistake, but I would still like to thank SiBu92 for pointing that out to me. If you ever see something that is blatantly not true in my writing, please PM me. Mass Effect doesn't deserve some silly half-assed fic writer messing up the masterpiece that is the ME universe.
Now onto a more personal note. I had the pleasure of meeting Raphael Sbarge, Mark Meer, Jennifer Hale, and Kimberly Brooks this summer, and I am happy to announce that they are all wonderful people. In fact, I feel guilty for the whole Assley incident considering how nice Ms. Brooks was. I am sincerely glad that the voice actors of such an amazing game are people worth looking up to. If you ever get the chance to meet them, please do. You will not regret it.
Now, for my next trick, I will apologize for the wait. Miracle on Palaven has been a very difficult series of chapters to write. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Seventy Seven-Part Two: Miracle on Palaven
The click of her house door shutting was a beautiful sound. Had been for twelve years.
Thirteen was a cursed number in human culture. She didn't know why, but that was irrelevant. It only mattered that it was unlucky. Twelve was a good number. Nice and solid, nice and safe.
"You're home just in time," a very familiar voice called. Her husband turned the corner that connected the entryway and the living room. "We're just about to start Marvelous Magic with Magician Marty." He held pointed back to the living room and grinned.
"Mommy!" Her two perfect children charged into the room and barreled into her legs.
"We're just about to start Marvelous Magicians!" Maximus yelled excitedly.
"Come on, come on!" Vesnia grabbed her hand and started to pull her in the direction of the living room. She allowed herself to be moved.
When she passed by her husband, Claudius, he asked, "How was work? Is Rutilius still being a pain?"
"No," she said. And it was true. He had already left.
"You guys start without me, I'm just gonna grab something to eat," she told the children. They nodded and scampered to the vid screen.
She made her way to the fridge and opened its door slowly. She scanned the items, but nothing looked appealing. Her stomach was turning too much for food.
"What's wrong?" Claudius asked from behind.
She shut the door carefully before turning to face him. She avoided his eyes. They were always so expressive. "Have you heard about the call the Hierarchy has sent out? They say they need five thousand turians," she started.
"Yes. Terrible, but it has to be done. Palaven will thank them for their sacrifice. Why? Do you know someone who signed up?" He said.
"I did."
"What?"
"I signed up."
Claudius's hand flew to his forehead as if a headache was ripping through his skull. "That's...okay. We can run. We will run. We can get off the grid in a few hours and it'll be fine...Kids!"
Vesnia and Maximus rushed into the kitchen.
Claudius knelt down beside them and said, "I want you guys to start packing, okay? We're going to be taking a little vacation."
"Alright!" They yelled. The pair ran out of the room and pounded up the stairs to their rooms.
"I'm not running, Claude. I signed up for it," she explained. It was a choice she had made. A choice she would not go back on. A regular turian like herself now had a chance to make an actual difference.
A knock at the door silenced the pair for a minute. She tried to formulate a few words that would somehow make it better. But there really was nothing to say. "I've gotta go," she said. She turned and started out of the kitchen to her front door. Another knock came, this one more urgent.
Claude followed behind her closely and yelled, "So that's it then? You're just gonna leave us all behind for some fucking mission?"
Why was she going? She didn't actually know. It was just a feeling. A need at this point. "I have to go," she told him. Those words repeated in her head. I have to go, I have to go.
Her front door shook as the people outside pounded at it with their fists. The Hierarchy didn't let people back out of an agreement easily.
She opened her front door before it could be broken down. Four turians stood on her doorstep. "Let's go," one said. They knew who she was and she knew who they were. It was a simple unspoken agreement.
Two of them flanked her right and left sides and walked her towards the waiting vehicle.
"I want to talk to my fucking wife!" Claude screamed at the two turians left at the door. "Why the hell are you doing this?" He yelled after her.
It was a fair question. She would've answered if she could have, but she just didn't know the reason. She just had to.
For twelve years she had heard her front door click shut. Twelve was a good number. Nice and solid, nice and safe.
...
The Primarch turned his attention to Shepard, "Before we start, let me introduce you to the officers who made this entire thing happen." He turned and led the way to a turian assembly. The officers lined up in a manner which appeared rehearsed. That didn't come as a surprise, all turians did was practice military pompassery.
"First up is Lieutenant General Hostivius Florius. He is in charge of The Group."
Hostivius was a member of the prestigious Florius Clan, known for their thick accents and storied political scandals. Colt had actually met Hostivius before, but it wasn't exactly under the best circumstances. They had both attended the party of a mutual friend before Colt preceded to get utterly shitfaced. After drinking one too many drinks, the karaoke machine was simply too appealing to ignore. The entire three minute event was horrifying for everyone involved.
"Pleasure meeting you, Lieutenant General," Shepard said pleasantly.
"Ahh, bu I believe we mat befuh, Commanduh," the turian rumbled. His accent was deep and formal sounding.
"I don't recall, sir," Colt lied.
"Yas, we wa at a perty. Sanging was envolved," he said.
"You must be thinking of someone else, sir," Shepard answered quickly. He moved to the next officer before any mention of the party could come up.
"This is Lieutenant General Atticomb Tiberius. He is in charge of communication between the turian fleets and the command center," Victus said. The Tiberius Clan was known for their mental illness, strangely enough. Four hundred years of inbreeding had done a number on their line.
Shepard extended his hand towards the the turian in question. He took it and rumbled, "Nice meeting you, Commander."
"Likewise, Lieutenant General."
Shepard moved on to Cassian. The Primarch grumbled, "This is General Cassian. He's also in charge of The Group."
Shepard shook his hand and said with as little contempt as he could muster, "General."
"Commander," Cassian replied with an equally forced voice. The two stood there awkwardly
shaking each other's hand with no end in sight.
Victus came to the rescue with a pat on the shoulder and a few words, "Good to go, Commander?"
"Good to go," Colt agreed. He took his hand back and rested it on top of his crutch.
"Excellent," Victus answered before raising his voice to gain the attention of the entire command center, "Are all commands ready?" A flurry of yessirs filled the command center."Alright, listen up everyone," he said before nodding to the Commander.
Colt took a deep breathe. "Give me four hours on the clock," he gestured to a counter sitting above the numerous screens. Keeping track of time was easily one of the most important aspects of Operation Messines. Two hundred and forty minutes in Standard Galactic Time flashed up on the board.
Shepard turned around quickly and said, "Generals, I need an overview of all your dreadnoughts, please. Specifically the dates of their launch and number of tours."
Immediate silence followed his request. Such a fiery and intense level of awkwardness called for a casual display of stretching. Hopefully the turians would see that he meant no harm through a modern rendition of crippled ballet.
Before Colt started stretching, he told Rosebud, "Go lay down." The varren eyed him for a second before heading towards a sad looking corner. She coiled her body tightly, but her elegant head stayed upright in order to observe the action.
He twisted his torso sideways and backwards, producing a number of satisfying pops. After a couple seconds of zero talking and far too many back stretches, he shifted to watch the turian leaders. They looked back coldly. Their grim, unwavering faces took Shepard aback. The silence stretched even further between the two parties. "...Is there a problem?"
"We're not entirely comfortable providing that information to someone outside the authority of the Turian Hierarchy," some important-looking military guy said. General Cassian nodded beside the speaker. What a little shit.
Colt should've seen this coming. His race and lineage had taken its toll on turian perceptions of him. "Look, I didn't have to come here today. I did not have to help you. You asked the Alliance for help, and here it is. I can leave...but if you want to save Palaven, then you guys are going to have to give me everything I need. Including dreadnought information. I promise I'm not here to get turian military secrets, or try to devise ways to bring you down. I'm here to help an ally, and to start the process of winning. Just give me the launch dates and nothing else," Colt said.
The turians glanced at each other. They didn't even try to hide the discomfort on their faces. With any luck, the Reapers would eat them.
Victus pushed his way through the old, self-important group of useless officials."Commander Shepard is an honorable person and has done nothing to the Turian Hierarchy to suggest otherwise. Give him the dreadnought information," he growled.
"Primarch…" some military official whined. Colt would never have pegged turians as whiny. Aggressive and bull-headed maybe, but not whiny. There was something satisfying about preconceived notions being proven wrong.
"That's an order," Victus snapped. Primarch Victus was officially Colt's favorite turian. Poor Gar Bear. He would be a hot mess if he ever found out.
"Yessir."
The previously dead terminal in front of Colt roared to life and immediately started scrolling translated information. Colt sat in the swirly chair and started the painstaking task of combing through dreadnought profiles. He needed at least four dreadnoughts to kickstart his plan.
He shifted to get a better look at the screen when he felt a small object in his pocket. Shepard was terrified that he'd almost forgotten one of the most important parts of the Messines Offense. Thank God he'd caught his mistake."One more thing. Take this," Shepard handed a young turian officer a small data chip, "and give it to Lieutenant General Tiberius. Tell him that I strongly recommend leaking it to the Reapers. Make sure he knows that the fleet should not follow its instructions. It's of the uppermost importance that every ship knows not to follow these directions."
"I understand, sir. Would you like this to be translated into an easily cracked code? The Reapers will know something is wrong if it's not at least slightly coded," the turian responded.
"I've already coded it, but it'll need to be sent out on a semi-secure channel for the same reason of keeping it believable."
"Understood, sir," the turian saluted before walking away.
"What's that?" Garrus nodded at the departing turian.
"They're orders telling the turian fleets to focus more on the northwestern side of Palaven. With any luck the Reapers will intercept it and concentrate their forces more on that side. If they do that, the southern parts of Palaven will hopefully clear up enough to get some Krogans groundside. The Krogan general, Urdnot Felix, is the best at what he does. If there's an opening for troops, he'll get em' through," Shepard explained.
"Do you really think that a couple thousand Krogans are going to make any difference?" The turian asked.
"At this point? No, I don't. But in a few hours they're going to be the difference between losing or winning Palaven."
"How's that?"
"In a few hours, most Reaper ships will be either partially or completely incapacitated. The only things standing in the way of a total victory will be the husks, and the marauders, and the so on. Krogan ground troops, in addition to the already substantial turian force, will remove that problem in a, hopefully, effective manner."
"So, how are the Reapers going to be incapacitated?" Garrus said.
Colt grinned, "Did you know that every form of Reaper ship allows indoctrinated people on board?"
"I thought only Destroyers and Capital ships took them on."
"Nope, transport and harvesting ships accept them as well."
"Okay…" Garrus still looked confused, "but what does that have to with taking them out?"
"We can get rid of everything all at once. All ships accepting indoctrinated people means that one focused strike can take out not only capital and destroyers but also the equally destructive support ships. Most people assume that the combat ships are the worst, but they're not. Most civilians are killed by the ground troops. Destroying the harvesting and transport ships alongside the capital ships and destroyers would be a major victory."
"So I guess the question is: How do we pull-off one focused strike?" The turian said.
Colt liked the fact that Garrus was asking all the right questions. "What if we had access and control over the people that the Reapers accepted on board? What could we do?" Colt prompted.
"Umm...Maybe have them upload a virus once they're inside?"
"You're sooo close, Garrus."
Victus pulled up to the pair and started, "Sorry to interrupt, Commander, but the deadline for choosing a suitable dreadnought is coming up in just a few minutes."
"Thank you for keeping me on time," Shepard nodded his head to the Primarch, "And you keep trying to figure it out, Garrus. You're on the right track."
Shepard swiveled back around in his chair and returned to his previous task of figuring out dreadnoughts. He scanned each ship's launch date. Dreadnought after dreadnought came up with dates that were too recent. The Reapers would be hard pressed to believe that a ten year old ship could have drive core issues. "No, no, nope, nope, no, nah, noppeity-nope. Ooh, oh yes. Is it? It is. Niiice," Colt muttered to himself. He had finally stumbled upon the ship that would act as the catalyst.
"Would you please call up the Indomitable's CO, please?" Shepard said to anyone who would do the task.
"Of course, Commander," another young turian answered. Colt didn't miss the young officer look at a turian general for approval.
"EDI, Liara, Traynor over here, please," Shepard propelled his chair towards the center of the room. "Where is the most likely place for a ship to experience drive-core issues?" He asked. A map of the surrounding space around Palaven and Menae flickered to life on the enormous holographic projector.
"Perhaps here?" Liara pointed to a place on the far-side of Palaven.
"No, the Reapers would realize something was off if one of the dreadnoughts was out of formation," Shepard said.
"It needs to be near somewhere that would strain the drive core," EDI said.
"How about right here?" Traynor pointed to a point beside Menae. "The moon's gravitational pull would put more stress on the drive core than usual."
Shepard didn't know much about ship design, but he trusted Sam. Plus Liara was nodding her head approvingly, so it had to be a good spot. He said, "Alright. Thanks, Traynor. EDI-"
"I've just done the calculations for that particular spot. While it would put somewhat of a strain on a drive core, there is a spot about three kilometers from Traynor's suggested site that has a higher gravitational pull. I would recommend that spot," EDI said.
"Okay, EDI. We'll go with your spot. Can you-"
"Already getting coordinates, Commander," she interrupted.
"Awesome. What's the Indominitable's CO's name?" Colt turned to the young turian officer from earlier. Colt took a moment to accept the fact that he would have to limp over to the QEC rather than glide over via rolly chair.
"Colonel Vedius, sir,"
"Thank you," Shepard said. He stood on his surprisingly steady legs and made his way to the Quantum Entanglement Communicator with his crutches. The image of a turian flickered and flashed on the QEC before his image became steady. Commander Shepard saluted before saying,"Colonel Vedius, sir, I need your assistance."
"How so, Commander Shepard?" The turian saluted back.
"The Indomitable is one of the oldest turian ships still in use. It's reached an age where drive core malfunctions are a possibility. Your ship also happens to be one of the best in the fleet. All of these factors make your ship a very tempting target for our enemies. In fact, your ship is so tempting that the Reapers may find themselves leaving Palaven's orbit to check her out," Shepard grinned.
"Commander, if you're suggesting that I sacrifice my ship, I will politely decline the invitation to do so," he said.
"No, nothing like that, sir. If you position the Indomitable by Menae with reported drive core troubles, other ships are going to come to your rescue. Three or four dreadnoughts, plus a full battery of support vessels, in one place are going to be quite appealing to the Reapers. Appealing enough to pull out of orbit. The Krogans and other support troops can then touch down on the surface when the Reapers aren't so thick. Your drive core issues will be false, of course, and the other ships will know this too. But we need the distraction to get ground troops in," Colt said.
"That sounds good, but what happens to my ship, and those that come to my aid, when the Reapers get to our position?"
"They will never reach you. They'll either be blown to pieces or virtually inoperable," Shepard replied smoothly.
"May I speak to my superiors for a moment, Commander?" Colonel Vedius said.
"Of course, Colonel," he turned towards Lieutenant General Tiberius, "The Colonel wishes to speak with you."
Shepard limped over to yet another terminal where he set upon typing an explanation of what was happening for the entire turian force. He listened to the Colonel and Tiberius drone at each other for a bit before he was completely immersed in typing. His explanation clarified that the Indomitable's drive core problems were false and the dreadnought was actually fully functioning.
"EDI, send me the coordinates of where the Indomitable is going to malfunction. The location by Menae," Colt said. A second later a message with the coordinates popped up on his terminal. "Thank you."
Shepard attached the coordinates to his message before he downloaded the entire thing on a nearby datapad. Then he went back over the list of dreadnoughts in an attempt to figure out who would be sent to the Indomitable's aid. It took no time at all to pick out the Intrepid, the Insurmountable, and the Untouchable as the three dreadnoughts that would be sent. The three were the newest dreadnoughts added to the turian fleets and would probably be the most tempting targets.
"Commander, the Colonel wants to speak to you again," Tiberius said.
"Very well, sir," Colt commented. He stepped back towards one of the QECs. "Colonel, what are you thinking, sir?"
"I'm in, Commander," Vedius smiled.
"Sounds good. When can you be ready to move and fake an SOS, sir?"
"Two hours," the Colonel said. Shepard beamed, his estimation had been right on the money.
"Alright. I'll have you speak to my VI to set up coordinates, sir," Shepard said.
"Very good, Commander."
"EDI," Colt called. The AI appeared from behind some turian and made her way towards him. "Can you please give Colonel Vedius three coordinates? The first being where he needs to start to make the jump. The second being where he needs to stop, the place by Menae we agreed on, and the third being where the ship should go if, for some reason, the jump and fake malfunction go wrong. "
"Yes, Commander," she said.
"Thank you," he replied, "All right, guys. We need to inform the rest of the fleets of our plans. We have three hours to do so before everything is set in motion. How many QECs do we have?" He asked the group of support personnel that followed him around everywhere.
"Five, sir," a turian said.
"All right. Private Perez, Ensign Parker, Lieutenant Cooper, and Ensign Daniels please come here. You guys need to coordinate with Lieutenant General Tiberius regarding communications with the fleets. Every single turian ship needs to be informed of the Indomitable. I've typed an explanation up, but the Lieutenant General may want to change it. That's fine, just make sure the fleets know what's happening. Here you go," he handed them each a data pad with his brief explanation.
"Yessir," They saluted him before heading over to Tiberius.
"I want a report on The Group in five minutes," Colt announced to anyone who would follow his orders, "And lets get some live feeds of Palaven's surface."
A couple of the previously unused screens lining the walls roared to life with an annoying sound that was between scratching and buzzing. When the static cleared and the noise receded, Palaven's situation became clear. Colt wanted the static back.
Turians were famous for showing the naked truth with little regard to the destruction honesty wrought. This was no exception. They did not leave anything out just for the sake of preserving their guests rather fragile minds.
...
Liara was not surprised, nor was she hurt. She knew what the Reapers did, she knew the full extent of their cruelty. Her eyes watched the screens with a cold understanding. Watching the life drain out of a young turian into the gray dirt was not new, nor were the screeches silenced a moment too soon. She harbored no disillusions of the Reapers.
But Colt surprised her. Out of everyone, he should've been the least moved, the least surprised. He had seen this years before everyone. He had a long time to prepare himself for such sights, but instead he turned out to be the wrecked dark horse. It was a stark reminder of why Shepard was the one leading the fight. She felt almost nothing, while he felt so strongly and was torn up so vividly even after knowing that this was going to happen. He watched the same scenes with the same cold eyes, but a different feeling than her own experienced mind enveloped the battle-hardened warrior's brain.
The comfortable piece of her mind that was devoted solely to Colt was going through something that was akin to dissolving from the inside out. Every scream, every plead for mercy, every drop of blood that seeped into Palaven soil shredded Colt. On the outside he watched like everyone else. Barely acknowledged the atrocities, like everyone else. The inside was an entirely different story. Every part of him bubbled up with terror, disgust, and shame. His feelings were so vivid and so poisoning that she had to remind herself that they weren't her own.
"Colt…," she whispered in an attempt to save him.
Green eyes swept past each screen before they settled on her face. Those eyes were ready and calm. They did not belong to the same person who was melting.
She stared right back at him, determined and unwavering. She genuinely felt fine. Green studied her face for a few long moments before blinking a few times like he was trying to see her through the darkness. Then Colt's eyes closed slowly as if weighted by time and tiredness.
When they opened again, they weren't the same ones that had looked at her before. They screamed and they bled alongside every turian they had just watched being slaughtered. His eyes were suffering right along with the rest of him. His greatest lie was transformed into one of his greatest characteristics. The truth about Shepard was laid bare for her, and only her, to see. The allusion of being unfazed, and generally untouched by the grisly sights of war was no longer a barrier between the things Shepard thought and the things he did.
Then it was gone like the gentle scent of a blooming flower that lived and died in the same breathe. Cold determination took the place of honesty, and the war was back on.
…
"How's that report coming?" Shepard barked at a turian unlucky enough to walk near him. He effortlessly glided from despair to anger.
"Commander, sir, The Group are just about ready to head out. It'll take the last volunteer two hours to reach their objective. Here's a live image," the turian pointed to a screen. A group of hundreds stood in rows upon rows of turians. Each volunteer had an attendant or two fixing equipment onto them. They stood in the middle of a warehouse, while tables of equipment lined the walls. Black boxes, most likely speakers, were placed periodically around the group.
Colt couldn't imagine being one of them. Sure he had sacrificed a lot in his life, but he hadn't volunteered for any of it. Shitty things just kinda happened in the moment, no one had methodically planned them and no one had predicted the outcome. When he died, he didn't know it was gonna happen. But they knew.
"Are they getting suited up?" The Commander asked reluctantly. How Victus had managed to recruit a minimum of two thousand people, get them to the warehouse, and secure enough firepower to attach to each in the space of three days was far beyond the commander.
"Yes, sir. In fact they're just about done."
"Thank you. Primarch, do you think it's time to speak with them?"
"I suppose, Commander. Let me ask General Cassian and Lieutenant General Florius," Victus said slowly. Both dreaded what was coming next.
"All right."
"I'll be right back," the Primarch walked over to the two turian officers who were hunched over the holographic display. He spoke to them for a while before he strolled back over to Shepard. "You're good to go, Commander. They're making sure the transportation for the Group is running smoothly, so it looks like you'll have to say a few words."
"Okay. Can someone please hail them? And let's get a live feed video and communications with them," Colt grumbled. There were a lot of things wrong with what was about to happen and he somehow had to make them okay.
…
She stood still. As still as possible. She was still shaking.
"Hey, it's okay," Julius patted her shoulder. His hand stayed on her shoulder for a bit before it returned to help the other.
"Except it's not," she responded. She stared straight ahead at another turian that was a few feet in front of her. She had made the mistake of looking down a while ago and saw her attendant, Julius, connecting two wires and then slipping a black rectangle into one of her vest's pockets. She no longer looked down.
"Everything that you're going to do falls perfectly in line with our ideals. Self-sacrifice, love of country, loyalty. Seriously, this is an honorable way to go. No shame, my friend. No fear… Are you able to breathe?"
"Does that matter?"
"We wanna keep you alive for the few hours leading up to it, so yeah, it matters," Julius said.
"I can breathe. In fact, you can make it tighter," she said. As soon as the words left her mouth, her vest constricted around her like a second skin.
"Up next is the helmet," he said. Julius picked a helmet by her feet and brought it to her head. He set it down lightly on top of her head, checked its sides, and then started to fiddle with its adjustment straps.
"Why a helmet? It's not like keeping my brains intact is important," she grumbled.
"They only let indoctrinated people aboard. This helmet mimics the brainwaves of a severely indoctrinated individual. Without it, you wouldn't be able to board," he explained.
"Julius?"
"Yeah?"
"I have two kids."
The other turian's mandible shifted against his face, but he said nothing.
"All group members, please bring your attention to the speakers located at your sides," a deep voice boomed. She was happy for the distraction. A moment passed before a new voice started speaking, "Turians, my friends, listen closely..."
...
"Here you go, Commander," a turian handed him a headset and nodded to series of screens on the south wall. He situated the headset over his ears and activated the holographic band that wrapped around his line of sight. A single, clear wire came off the right side of the headset and rested comfortably on his cheek. In his left eye he could see a single, straight line that moved up and down with his voice. In his right eye, an image of The Group standing in formation gifted his sight.
"They'll be able to hear you in five, four, three, two, one," a turian counted down before nodding at him.
"Turians, my friends, listen closely," he said the words with as much conviction and confidence as he could muster. Hundreds of turian heads looked up to where speakers presumably were. An echo of his own voice spoke through the headset, startling him a little. "I don't know if anyone will ever be able to thank you for what you have volunteered for. I don't know if I'll ever be able to express my gratitude using mere words. But know that I have not met a braver group, nor will I ever. The hopes and dreams of not only your people, but the humans, and the asari, and the salarians are with you today. And they could not be in better hands.
"Know now, that if nothing else, you have my deepest respect. Along with the respect of your people. We will forever be indebted to your sacrifice and final show of utter selflessness. You will not be forgotten. I will fight each and every battle with you in mind. I will remember what courage is when I think of you. I will never forget you and I'll make sure the galaxy does the same."
"This is a turning point for the war. This is the event that will turn the tide and make us the victors. It is you, and your courage, that will make a world of difference. Be comforted by the fact that you have won us the war," Shepard said coolheadedly. He figured he should end on a rousing note, so he laced his final words with unabashed enthusiasm, "We will take back Palaven because of you! We will take back what is ours because of you! We will win this war because of you!"
Taking off his headset would close his speech and begin their ends. He almost turned his attention to another matter, but he stopped. There was something missing from his words, something integral.
Then it dawned on him. They deserved to hear something that a genuine friend would say, not a few words from some commander. In a much quieter tone, one he had never before used while being Commander, he uttered, "Good luck, and thank you all."
It wasn't a great speech, it wasn't even a good speech, but no one could ever argue that it wasn't from the heart.
The buzzing in his ear cut off and the work within the warehouse resumed. Colt took his headset off and handed it away. His hands gripped the metal railing in front of him until his knuckles turned white. He allowed himself a second of self-indulgence by staring at his combat boots and letting his mind stray to what the after-war would look like.
"Thank you, Commander," Victus patted Colt's back. The turians own watery eyes reflected what Shepard felt. "That was a good...speech? No, I guess it was more of a farewell. Thank you, though. Everyone needed to hear that."
Colt opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything through the cotton that had magically stuffed itself down his throat. Finally, he managed, "What do you say to dead men?"
"I wish I knew, Shepard. It'd make my job a whole hell of a lot easier."
Shepard barked out a humorless laugh, "Mine too."
Footsteps to his left made Colt turn sharply. A turian major handed him a datapad before saying, "Commander, The Group is suited up. It'll take them approximately two hours to board. "
"Alright. What are Cassian and Florius thinking?" Colt asked.
"They've given the green light. They just want to confirm with you," he said.
"I'm good to go, Major. Proceed as necessary."
"Yes, sir," the Major brought his hand to one ear, "Attention. Please board your respective transport ships and get prepared to carry out the objective within two hours."
Turians, thousands of them, moved out of their careful formations to waiting vehicles. They were assembled at their transport vehicles in a little under thirty minutes. The cameras set up around the armoring warehouse turned off one by one, leaving the screens black.
"Call up Colonel Vedius," he told a nearby turian.
"Right away, sir," the turian saluted before turning to a console. Vedius's tall figure quickly filled out the QEC.
"Colonel, how's it coming?"
"We're running ahead of schedule and should be able to proceed with the plan in an hour and five minutes."
"Excellent. Thank you, Colonel. I'll contact you as we get closer."
"Sounds good, Commander. Vedius out."
Things were progressing perfectly, which was odd. Missions didn't usually happen without at least one thing going horribly wrong.
"Commander, what do we do now?" Liara walked up beside him.
Colt looked towards the monitors around the room, hoping they could provide something to do. "Well, we make sure every turian ship is aware of our plans. After that? Well then we wait."
…
"Watch your step," Julius said. He gripped her arm tightly as she maneuvered herself out of the shuttle and onto the freezing ground. Her pack and vest dragged her down with their immense weight, but between her own strength and Julius's she managed to stay upright. "Alright, final check," he told her. The other turian quickly checked the wires on her torso, and then reached for a box at her hip. He tapped on it for a minute before several lights flashed into existence all over her. "You're good to go, you just need this," he grabbed a large coat from someone still seated in the helicopter and wrapped it around her. He zipped up its front all the way to her chin, making any head movement uncomfortable, "and this." Julius grabbed a helmet from the same person and situated it on her head.
"Anything else?" She wondered.
"No. All you have to do is go," he answered, "May the Spirits be with you."
"Thanks," she murmured. She thought a second before asking, "Is it gonna hurt?"
"Not even a little. Have courage, my friend, and remember that this is an honorable way to die. Palaven will thank you," Julius said
"Okay," she nodded as best she could. Terror crept up through her toes and started trekking up her legs.
"You have my respect," he said. Julius clambered aboard the shuttle once more and strapped himself in. She was left on the ground.
The shuttle's engine roared with life and lifted off Palaven's surface. Julius waved from his seat while the vehicle turned expertly. The shuttle's thrusters kicked in and they were gone far too quickly.
She scanned the area around her in a sad attempt to find her Reaper. There was nothing but scorched earth and rubble.
"Proceed straight ahead," a voice in her ear nearly made her jump out of her talons. It took a second to realize that her helmet, mostly likely a VI, had spoken to her. "Proceed straight ahead," it chirped once more.
Her legs started forward almost as if they were controlled by some other being. They trembled with every step forward, but they did not stop. And that was the main thing.
She started to climb up the edge of the crater where they had landed when she saw her first human husk. It was thirty feet away and tearing at something. She kept walking.
The turian slipped on the mud that had collected on the crater's side. She elected to start crawling rather than risk falling backwards or slipping down. A branch was lodged in the earth, so she reached out to grab it. As soon as her hand touched it, a dark object sprang up on her right. She tried to crawl to the left but the creature was already towering over her.
A marauder stood over her crouched form and opened its mouth to reveal saliva strings and sharp teeth. Its eyes blazed before receding to a calm pool. It looked at her once more before it started walking back down the crater.
She didn't take the time to consider what had happened, instead she propelled herself forward through the thick mud. The heavy mud grabbed at her knees and begged her to stop. Failing get on her Reaper was simply not something that was going to happen, so she forced herself forward.
Near the top of the crater was another marauder, and like the first, it completely disregarded her.
She pulled herself over the edge of crater and landed on a horizontal surface. Her talons dug into the earth gratefully, while her eyes stared at the bare ground. She let herself rest for a minute before she pulled herself to her feet once more. If her vest and backpack had been heavy before, now they were downright unbearable.
"Proceed straight ahead," her helmet said. She could see the top of her Reaper poking out from another crater just a hundred feet ahead.
The turian swung her head around while her worn body strode forward. To her right and left were dozens of craters with pieces of houses scattered about. Turian bodies lay everywhere. The normally gray earth now had a blue tint.
She stood on the edge of the crater that held her objective and gazed at the monster on the bottom. Her Reaper was a destroyer, so it was substantially smaller than a Capital ship. Compared to most things, however, it was enormous. Its black sides shuddered as it moved around. Its sides were plated sections that rippled separately. The Reaper also had small tentacle like things that extending off its main torso that twitched with every move it made.
She started down the crater carefully. Its side was equally as slippery as the other she had crawled out of. A few times she lost her footing, but she somehow made it to the bottom alive.
The protocol for summoning a Reaper had never been disclosed to her. Was she supposed to yell or wait or know a secret word?
Creaking metal brought her out her thoughts. The Reaper was turning slowly so its back, or what she thought was its back, faced her. The monstrosity took a few seconds to turn all the way around before it started to lower. After a certain point, the Reaper's entire body stopped descending. She wondered if knocking politely on its exterior was the proper way of boarding, but a drawbridge type thing extended from its body before she could test her hypothesis.
She stepped over a few feet of thick mud until she reached the pathway to the Reaper's interior. The turian stepped onto the bulky metal piece and made her way up. Her combat boots thunked heavily against the ground. If she had to be honest, she was completely astonished at her own bravery. Here she was, climbing a Reaper. She had heard the word courage used, but only now did she truly understand its meaning.
"Turn right," her helmet helpfully said. The VI's voice was sickeningly happy.
She reached the end of the ramp and turned right. The interior was pitch black and creaked routinely. No lights were supplied to her for fear of tipping the Reaper off, so she was forced to wander through the dark feeling the walls and relying on her navigational VI.
Her face crashed into something in front of her. "Sorry," she said. She clamped a hand over her mouth before she could say anything else. A growl echoed off the walls, but nothing reached out for her.
"Turn left," the VI said cheerily.
As she turned left, it was possible to see. A light, presumably from the Reaper's mass effect core, shone down the hallway. Other turians became clear in the light as they wandered towards the core of the Reaper. One turned towards her to reveal eyes that had a milky coating over them. They must've been in an advanced stage of indoctrination.
The hallway was low and slim, just big enough to allow organics to move around. Its sides were also black and sleek looking. Between the panels of the wall ran glowing green wire that faded on and off rhythmically.
When she reached the mass effect core, she almost couldn't believe what she was seeing. The core was three times the size of the biggest core she had ever seen. It seemed to extend forever upwards.
"Objective reached," her VI said.
She was at the end of the road. Her instructions were to reach the center of her Reaper and wait. Funny how something as boring as waiting would somehow elevate her to the title of hero.
...
The trip to Palaven seemed damn right peachy compared to waiting for The Group. At least on the trip there, Liara had been comforting and all his friends had been present. Enduring the two hour wait with a bunch of turian officials with permanent sticks up their asses was far less pleasant. The command center just had a nasty feel to it. It was like walking into a high-end store wearing nothing but coveralls. Nothing was outright said, but the glances were killer. Colt was almost positive that if looks could kill, his eyes would've melted out of his sockets and his body would've been reduced to a putrid puddle of Cerberus goo and self-loathing.
When the same turian officer from earlier walked confidently towards Colt, he couldn't help but be completely elated. His approach could only mean that the wait was over. The turian major had no idea that he was about to save the Commander from the island nation of Turian Passive Aggressiveness.
The young man's speed increased with every step he took until he stood before Shepard. He saluted quickly before his words rushed out, "Commander Shepard, we've just received word that the last member of The Group has boarded. I did a quick equipment check with each of the five thousand payloads. The good news is that only three of the packages didn't respond to my hail."
"What's the bad news?" Colt asked suspiciously.
"The bad news is that there is no bad news," the turian smiled, "...Uhh, sir."
"Doesn't that usually mean that something far worse than any of us could imagine is about to happen?"
"Yes, sir."
"What do you think is gonna happen, Major?" Shepard asked.
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"Granted."
"The way my generals are looking at you, I wouldn't be surprised if a galactic incident involving fists went down, sir," the turian said.
"Noted, Major. I will try my very best to keep my Fiery Fists of Fury at bay," Colt chuckled, "On a slightly different note, can you please hail Colonel Vedius once more?"
"Right away, sir," the turian saluted before setting up a link on the QEC. The Colonel's figure rendered quickly.
Colt slapped off a clean salute. "Colonel, how's it coming?"
Vedius saluted back before answering, "Commander, we are ready to proceed with the plan."
"Confirm, Colonel. Is the Indomitable ready for the jump and subsequent SOS?"
"Confirmed, Commander. The Indomitable is ready for the jump and has prepared the SOS."
"Confirmation logged. Go ahead and jump...May the spirits be with you."
"And you too, Commander. Jumping now."
Colt turned from the QEC to the holographic map. He quickly scanned its interface until he saw the point where the Indomitable was jumping. A half second later the turian dreadnought's marker appeared in the agreed spot.
The marker was green, indicating full functionality. Shepard's nerves started to unfreeze as the marker stayed green for a few long seconds. Palaven's entire existence was riding on the Indomitable being inoperable. When it finally turned dark red, he let out a breath of relief he didn't know he was holding.
Static to his right from the emergency broadcast channel based on Palaven gargled before a clear voice started speaking, "...Drive-core malfunction. I repeat, the Indomitable has suffered a drive-core malfunction. Requesting assistance. This is the Captain of the Indomitable, we have suffered a drive-core malfunction, and we need immediate assistance..."
"Tell the Intrepid, the Insurmountable, and the Untouchable to proceed to the Indomitable's location now. And get Urdnot Felix on the QEC," Colt said.
"Yessir."
Urdnot Felix's outline filled the QEC before his entire form appeared. "Urdnot Felix, prepare to send your troops to Palaven's surface. We'll have openings soon."
"Sounds good, Commander. We'll be waiting."
Shepard turned back to the holograph and watched the three chosen dreadnoughts pull from their positions and head to the Indomitable. The Reapers on the map also started to shift positions, no doubt considering their options as four high priority dreadnoughts, plus their staff ships, convened on one place. They had probably also cracked the orders instructing the turians to head to the northwest side.
Colt looked towards the board that was counting down. Twenty-two minutes, thirty-seven seconds until the Reapers would no longer be a problem for Palaven.
"Come on, come on. Take it," he willed the Reapers to start heading towards the dreadnoughts.
The little Reaper blips kept flashing in their same positions. Not one marker moved.
"Goddammit, come on," he growled. The green flashes stayed still for a minute more before a strong concentration of Reaper flagships and their attending vessels withdrew from Palaven's south end. "Thank God, someone get Urdnot Felix on the QEC."
Colt limped back towards the QEC where a rather large form was starting to materialize. "Urdnot Felix, there's a spot opening up on the south end. My VI will give you exact coordinates. Get as many ground troops deployed to the surface as possible," Shepard said.
"Can do, Commander. Our transport ships are waiting as we speak," the Krogan rumbled.
"Very good. EDI, can you please give him the coordinates for the opening?"
"Certainly, Commander," she responded. Colt limped away from the QEC, confident that EDI had that situation handled.
"Dr.T'Soni, can you please alert me when the Reapers are halfway to the Indomitable?" Colt asked while he walked past the asari.
"Of course, Commander," Liara nodded to him before walking towards the holographic display.
"Traynor, I want you to contact Admiral Hannah Shepard on the QEC," Shepard barked.
"Yessir," she saluted before trotting off. He followed behind slowly.
His mom's figure flickered for a second before filling out. She looked around before her startling green eyes rested on Colt's face. The sides of her eyes crinkled, defining her barely visible crow's feet. The sheer warmth radiating from her gaze made him both uncomfortable and suspicious.
The roar filling the command center quieted once everyone noticed who had been called on the QEC. A lot of terrible things could be said of the Admiral, but no one could deny her magnetism.
"Commander," Hannah breathed.
"Admiral," he saluted, "Things are progressing perfectly with the plan-"
"That's wonderful," she smiled.
"-and I recommend that the Fifth Fleet be ready to strike the stragglers within ten minutes, ma'am. We have a large group of Reapers moving to the Indomitable's position now. The bombs should be detonating in under ten minutes, and a severely handicapped Reaper force will be ready for you to handle, ma'am."
"Thanks for the heads up, Commander. The Fifth Fleet is ready and waiting. Shepard out," Hannah said, before her image flickered out. Colt stared at the empty QEC while his mind considered his mother's friendliness.
"Commander," Liara's voice startled him. He turned sharply around to face the asari, trying his very best to keep the surprise out of his features. She stepped forward a little, and asked, "Are you okay?"
"Fine, Doctor. What's the problem?"
"Colt-"
"What's the problem?" He repeated sternly.
Before she could answer, one of the turian QEC operators trotted up to him, "Pardon me Commander, but Urdnot Felix is requesting another call. Shall I bring him up?"
"One sec," Colt placed his attention on Liara again, "What's wrong? Quickly now."
"The Reapers are moving faster to the Indomitable's position than was previously calculated."
"How long do we have?" He asked.
"Ten minutes. Fifteen at the most," she replied.
"That's fine. We'll have enough time. Thank you, Doctor," Shepard said, clearly dismissing the asari. He turned back to the turian, "Get Felix on the line."
The turian slapped off a clean salute before going to a QEC. In a few moments, Urdnot Felix was completely formed. "What seems to be the problem?" Colt asked.
"Nothing," he chuckled, "I just thought you should know that seven thousand Krogan have already touched down on Palaven. Our instruments are indicating that the Reapers aren't taking the threat very seriously. A couple loads of marauders and the such were dropped off, but the response has been very limited. Commander, I believe they have underestimated us."
Shepard sighed in relief, "Rookie mistake." Things were going extraordinarily smoothly. How strange.
"And it only gets better, another ten thousand should be touching down in the next twenty minutes. After that I'll rotate landings accordingly. However, by the end of the day, Palaven will have twenty five thousand Krogans kicking-ass and taking names," he grinned.
"I'm impressed Felix," Colt said.
"As you should be."
"Next time you're on the Citadel, drinks are on me," Shepard smiled.
"Now that's what I like to hear, Commander. Felix out," the Krogan's image died away. Colt turned back to the holographic display to watch the Krogan reinforcements touch down. Thousands of dots indicating single soldier pods rained towards Palaven's earth. Several green lines representing Krogan transport ships also started their descent towards the surface of the turian homeworld.
"Bombs," Garrus's voice spoke up behind him, "That's your plan, isn't it? You've planted bombs on turians that'll then carry them onto Reapers. When they board, you'll remote detonate them."
"Winner, winner chicken dinner. Well, maybe not chicken. Isn't that like cannibalization or something?...Do turians eat each other?"
"Only the weak ones," Garrus replied. Colt had no idea if that was a joke.
"Hmmmm...You look like you're judging me hardcore."
"Me? No, not even a little bit. This plan has the sort of ruthless calculus that the war needs. I'm just thinking about other people's opinions, you know?" Garrus said thoughtfully.
"Didn't think about it that way, I guess," Colt murmured.
"Some Reapers aren't going to be completely destroyed by the bombs," Garrus gracefully changed the subject, "So what's the plan for the runners?'
"Where would you retreat to, Garrus?" Shepard asked.
"I suppose I'd go through the relay, that way I'd be able to get far away as possible in a short amount of time," the turian explained. Colt stayed silent so his friend could think about what he said. A sudden realization blossomed across Garrus's face, "I'd go through the relay with the Fifth Fleet on the other side."
Before he could answer, a hand on his arm turned Colt away. Liara spoke confidently, "Commander, the Reapers are halfway to the Indomitable."
"Already?"
"They're moving with more urgency than we predicted."
"That's okay," Colt nodded to Garrus before limping down a few metal steps towards the panel controlling the detonation sequence. When he reached the panel, he grabbed the chain that was around his neck and under his armour. "Please help," he asked Liara. The asari unlatched the necklace and handed it to him without a word. "Victus, it's time," he told the turian.
Shepard put his palm on the console's scanner to undue the first few shackles preventing the detonation. "Commander Colt Lawrence Shepard confirmed. Requesting Primarch Adrien Victus's biometric scan," the automated voice of the console's VI said. Victus slid next to Colt and put his talons on the scanner.
"Primarch Adrian Victus confirmed. Requesting a scan of Commander Colt Lawrence Shepard's iris," the VI said. Colt moved his face uneasily towards the eye scanner. A beam of light blinded his right eye for a millisecond before receding. "Commander Colt Lawrence Shepard confirmed. Requesting Primarch Adrian Victus's iris," the VI said. Victus moved his head closer while the scan took place.
"Primarch Adrian Victus confirmed. Trigger safeties disengaged. Launch keys requested," the VI said in as monotone a voice as possible. Colt lifted the metal key attached to the neck chain towards his key's lock.
"We gotta turn them at the same time, Victus," Shepard said. He inserted his key into one of the glowing locks.
"One, two, three," the Primarch counted down. Colt twisted his key on three, not allowing himself to contemplate the magnitude of what a simple turn would do.
…
This was fine, this was okay. She was fine, she was okay. Waiting to die may be a little unusual, but she wasn't uncomfortable. She was sitting against the wall that encircled the Reaper's core. She had stood for a little while, but had quickly grown tired.
"Trigger safeties disengaged. Detonation is imminent," her VI chirped.
This was it. It was the end. The end of her. The end of life. With any luck, it wouldn't be the end of everything.
While she found it very odd to be right up against death, it wasn't as bad as she thought. It was like donating a bunch of money. It hurt to give up paper potential, but it felt good to be giving to others.
Julius was right. It was a good way to die.
...
"Detonation sequence initiated," the VI said. Shepard looked up towards the screens just in time to see them go black.
"Commander," a barely contained Traynor squealed. He turned to see her nod towards the holographic display.
A single Reaper icon flashed from green to red, then a second one followed suit, then a third. Soon the entire map of Palaven was filled with tiny red dots. The bombs had been a success, if you could even call it that. Sure they had blown the enemy to bits from the inside, but they had also killed thousands of turian volunteers.
"Call up Admiral Shepard, please. It's time for the Fifth Fleet to flex its muscles," Shepard told one of the turian attendants.
"Yes, sir. I'll get her on the QEC," the turian said. Colt stumbled over to the nearest communicator just as his mom appeared. "Admiral, the bombs have just detonated. The Reapers are retreating towards the relay."
"How long until the few Reapers are here?"
"A few minutes at the most, ma'am."
"Alright. The Fifth is ready to rip them a new one, Commander," she smiled.
"Good to hear, Admiral, good to hear," he answered.
"Keep me updated, Commander. Shepard out," Hannah said before the QEC went dark.
"We need to get in contact with the Fifth Fleet's communication expert," Shepard told the same turian attendant.
"It'll take me a minute to figure out who it is, but I'll have them up in no time," he said. Agonizing seconds ticked by until a fortyish-year-old human male flashed onto the QEC.
He looked around curiously before his eyes rested on Shepard's. A half second passed before recognition dashed through the man's eyes. He saluted enthusiastically, albeit sloppily.
"Lieutenant, please keep me updated on the Fifth Fleet," Colt commanded.
"Yessir," he said a little too loudly, "Intelligence reports have informed us that anywhere from a few dozen to thousands of Reapers could potentially flow through the relay. Preliminary numbers indicate that fifty Reapers have gone through the Mactare relay so far. The Fifth Fleet has destroyed twenty-four of them already… Twenty-five now."
"That was quick," Colt commented.
"Indeed, sir. The Reapers had a breach in their shields and armour. The Fleet just ripped through them like they were tissue paper," the Alliance officer put his hand to his ear, "I just received word that fifty-seven have been destroyed. Another wave has just come through the relay. That number is approaching one hundred and five."
"How well is the Fleet handling those numbers?" Colt asked worriedly.
"Very well, actually. It is taking very little to destroy even Capital ships, sir. They came through with their limbs hanging on by a thread, so to speak. Whatever got them, got them good," his words rushed excitedly.
Shepard swung his head towards the battlemap to check the flow of retreating enemies on Palaven's side of the relay. If he had to guess, he'd say that less than one hundred Reapers were still trying to get through. Judging by those numbers and what the Fifth Fleet was reporting, less than a quarter of the Reapers around Palaven had been functional enough to limp through the relay.
"Another wave of one-hundred has come through, sir. Early numbers indicate that three fifths of the retreating Reapers are non-combat ships. Two fifths were destroyers or Capital ships. One hundred and fifty have been destroyed. Another one hundred and fifty are still being engaged."
"Keep me updated," Shepard told him. He turned back towards the holographic display to watch the turian response.
Turian fleets that had been spread out few and far between started the process of regrouping. A couple fleets already managed to pull themselves together, and were starting to sweep the system for signs of Reaper life. Occasionally, a shot would be fired into a Reaper, but for the most part it was quiet.
"How's it goin, Lieutenant?" Colt turned his attention back to the Fifth.
"Seventy-five left, sir. And that number is dropping rapidly."
"Glad to hear it."
"Glad to say it, sir."
"Commander, sir, Admiral Shepard is waiting in QEC three," a turian attendant interrupted.
"Thank you," he told the turian, before he turned back to the Alliance officer, "I think that's all, Lieutenant."
"Okay, Commander. And for the record, it's pretty damn awesome that we met," he grinned.
"If you ever find yourself on the Citadel, shoot me an email. We'll get a drink or something."
The man's eyes opened wide and a huge grin lit up his whole face, "Can do, Commander!"
"I should go. Shepard out," he said. The lights on the QEC died out with the man's outline, leaving the space around him rather dark. Colt pulled his crutches closer to him and made his way to Hannah.
"Admiral," he saluted.
She saluted back before speaking, "Commander, every Reaper that came through the relay was destroyed. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it appears as if Palaven has been liberated."
"I believe that you are correct in your assumption, Admiral."
"Good, I hate it when I'm wrong," she winked, "See you tonight, Colt. And bring Liara, I miss her. Shepard out."
It was done. Palaven was Reaper free. The turians were liberated. His plan actually worked, and it had worked well...Did things usually go this well for other people? Colt had been waiting for the catch, but it just hadn't come. That was good. Total victory turned about to be pretty damn awesome.
"Commander," a voice drove Colt from his own thoughts. He looked up to see the stunned faces of everyone in the command center staring at him. General Cassian spoke once more, "You did it. You actually did it." Proving someone wrong felt so fucking good.
Then there was silence. It was the type of silence that was heavy with contemplation, but it only lasted a fraction of a second.
The crowd surrounding him burst forth at the same time and surged towards him. Excited faces grinned at him while strong hands hoisted him into the air. It was impossible to hear his own thoughts over the cheering. The group of people under him rippled together and celebrated as one.
Happy faces swirled around Shepard meaninglessly. They blended into each other and eventually formed a single unit of joy. Colt felt detached from them. He felt like he was watching someone else named Commander Shepard being cheered for. It was an oddly surreal feeling, much like watching an extremely realistic show.
"Shepard! Shepard! Shepard!" The cheer rose up from a single voice until the whole group had taken up the call.
This was a win, but it didn't feel like it.
Colt thought he was going to feel better after saving Palaven. He had convinced himself that a successful Messines Offence would somehow make him okay. If right now was anything to go off of, he was wrong.
The dancing and the cheering and the crying and the laughing didn't seem to exist in the same world as he. Those people were celebrating, while he could only feel his dread getting heavier. Colt couldn't be sure, but he was almost positive he felt that way because the reality of the war was starting to sink in.
The celebration lasted forever. People just kept cheering and yelling his name and dancing and laughing. He usually loved these types of things. He lived for these things. Now all he felt was discontent.
"Ready to go?" Garrus's smiling face looked down at Colt. The Commander had been put down ages ago, but he only realized that mere seconds before.
"Yes, I think so," Colt said through a dry mouth.
"Let's go then, the trucks are waiting," the turian said.
"Alright, lead the way, my friend," Shepard gestured to the command center's door. He shook himself in an attempt to rid himself of his heavy heart. It did nothing.
"Thank you so much, Commander Shepard," a turian touched his shoulder while tears glistened in his eyes, "You have done Palaven a great service today."
"It was my pleasure. I love your people," Colt told him. Despite the shitstorm raging inside, he still knew the perfect reaction to every situation. If nothing else, Colt was a good actor. He would bet good money that no one had a clue something was wrong with him.
Another turian gripped his hand and said, "How can we ever repay this great deed, Commander?"
"Don't worry about it. We stand as one. No one owes anyone anything," Shepard replied. He continued on. Liara must have rallied the troops because everyone Colt had brought from the Normandy was trailing behind closely.
General Cassian walked by Colt's side and said, "I'm sorry I had some doubts about you, Commander. Clearly they were unfounded."
"Don't worry about it, General. What matters is that you gave a human a chance and you didn't interfere with my plan. That's all I asked, and that's what you gave. There is no shame in that," he told him.
"That's good. I'll see you this evening then?"
"You will, sir."
"Good, good, Commander," the turian said and with that, he left Shepard's side.
The last person is the ass-kissing procession was Primarch Victus. "Shepard," he slung his arm around Colt, "You have done the turians a great favor despite all the pushback from my colleagues. Thank you."
"You are very welcome, Primarch," he answered.
Victus nodded thoughtfully before saying, "You're invited to the ceremony tonight, right?"
"Yes."
"Good, good. We'll talk more there. Thank you again, Shepard," he said. And with that, the Primarch swooped away.
The line of humans and aliens alike were led from the command center through the tunnel and finally out to the trucks. There, Shepard was met with enthusiastic hugs, handshakes, pats, and words. They all just flooded around him like water, not a single gesture or word sticking.
Colt had started to walk towards his truck when he noticed something was off. A few agonizing moments went by before it dawned on him. The drug door was missing.
He nudged a turian soldier with his crutch and nodded towards the huge metal door that had replaced the equally monumental acid door from hell. "Hey, where did that colorful door go? You know, the one with the crazy colors and patterns?"
The turian looked at him blankly before saying, "What door?"