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So this was the famous Commander Shepard. Thane was bemused by the idea that his path had led him here, to working with a woman many thought of as the savior of the galaxy, accompanying her on what was almost certainly going to be a suicide mission. Amonkira, Lord of Hunters, must have been guiding him here—this woman certainly carried herself like a hunter.
But for all that, she was a woman like any other, flesh and blood. No doubt that would be a disappointment to many who held her on a pedestal. Thane found it made her more interesting—he was more willing to follow someone who had patience with fallibility, their own and that of others.
Accompanying them on Illium was Miranda, who was a Cerberus operative, and thought of herself as more or less Shepard's superior while on the Normandy, as far as Thane could tell. Neither woman seemed to bother about the chain of command—when Shepard gave an order, she expected it to be followed, and when Miranda gave one, the weight of Cerberus was behind it, and they appeared to have developed a tolerance for the imbalances, depending on where they were.
He stopped to look out over the vista in front of them, the great expanse of Illium. Shepard waited for him, but when his thoughts went on too long for her, she joined him at the wall. "Something on your mind?"
"I spent the last two years here," he told her. "I had a purpose, a goal, that kept me focused. But now that I've accomplished it, something occurs to me: In all that time, I never looked at the horizon." He suited the action to the words, watching the streams of shuttles go by. "It is spectacular."
Shepard looked at him with interest, then turned to look out over the view herself. "I suppose it is. It's a little busy for my taste—I prefer fewer people."
"Do you? And yet you surround yourself with them."
"I choose my team. That's different."
"As you chose me, by dossier?"
"As I chose you, by watching the way you work and talking with you." She nodded at him. "I trust my gut where people are concerned. Others might find my crew a bit odd, but no one's ever failed me in a fight."
"I believe it."
"Do you mind if we keep going now?" she asked.
"Is that an order, couched politely?"
"Yes."
"In that case, I do not mind in the least."
Shepard smiled, and Thane found himself smiling back. He wouldn't have expected to like the Commander Shepard of rumor and report, but he was already finding that she was both less and more than she was reputed to be.
In the course of the day, he had occasion to watch Shepard come into contact with any number of people who wished her to listen to—and solve—their problems, and she unfailingly did so with respect, no matter how ridiculous the request. Thane found that admirable, although he wondered how she didn't exhaust herself.
One, an asari she had met before on a different planet, put a tentative hand on Shepard's shoulder, made a hesitant offer of … something personal, and for the first time Thane saw Shepard at a loss. Was it because the overture came from an asari? Or because she was not open to overtures of any kind? He had lived without the company of others for a long time. It was what he deserved. But Shepard was a young woman, and strong, and that strength would be worn away if she didn't share her burdens with someone.
In the same room, they came across something Thane had never seen before, which was saying something: a krogan spouting love poetry. "Blue rose of Illium, you have blossomed in a tower of glass and plastic …" it began. Which wasn't bad, really, Thane thought.
The object of the poetry, an asari, seemed less moved by it. But apparently Shepard was intrigued, as well, because she stopped to talk to the asari, while the krogan went on declaiming his verse.
"On the rocky plains of Tuchanka, I will build you a garden from the bones of my ancestors!"
Thane had never been to Tuchanka, but what the krogan was describing didn't sound like any garden he had ever seen.
"What do you want?" the asari snapped at Shepard. Almost immediately she apologized. "That damn krogan's love poems are getting on my nerves."
"He's reading those poems to get your attention?" Miranda asked. She glanced over at the krogan. "They're not terrible."
"Especially for a krogan," Thane agreed.
The asari looked at him, too, frowning. "His name is Charr. We're kind of dating—but we're on a break. He's trying to show me how sensitive he is by, well, wooing me. It's really bad … but kind of sweet."
"Blue rose of Illium," Charr intoned, ignoring all of them, his eyes only on the asari. "Leave eternity unembraced and grapple in the glorious struggle that is us, here and now."
"'Grapple in the glorious struggle'?" Miranda echoed. "Only a krogan would find that romantic."
Thane shrugged. "I suppose it depends on the mood."
Both Shepard and Miranda looked at him at that, Miranda with open curiosity and Shepard with interest slightly more veiled.
She cleared her throat and looked back at the asari. "It doesn't seem common for an asari to date a krogan. What brought you two together?"
"He's a fun guy," the asari said, "and really smart—especially for a krogan. And he's got a good job as a transport technician."
"But?"
"You know, it's fun to join a mercenary guild or dance at bars for a few centuries, but eventually you hit the matron stage, you know? Then you get your back tattoo removed, you let your scalp go back to its natural blue, and you settle down with someone … dependable."
"So then why are the two of you on a break?" Shepard asked.
"He's been getting serious. Serious as in … talking about kids. I mean, Charr is a great guy to date, but for something permanent … Krogan live long lives, you know? I mean, it's not like dating a human where you stick it out for a century till they die." The asari seemed only then to remember who she was talking to. "Sorry. No offense meant."
Shepard shrugged, and Thane smothered a smile. He had met other asari who had said similar things about drell companions. "So, he wants kids. You don't?"
"Oh, no, I do. It's just that … I couldn't help but wonder if he really likes me or if he just wants kids. He couldn't have them any other way, you know, because of the genophage."
"Did you ask him that?"
The asari nodded. "I did. I don't think he had realized until I mentioned it that our kids would always have been asari. Non-asari don't always get that we're not taking alien DNA, we're just using it to randomize some of the genetic information. Anyway, Charr was quiet for a long time after that. At last he said that he would love our girls no matter what color they were."
"An unusual attitude for a krogan," Thane pointed out.
"Yeah. I suppose so."
"You need to talk to your boyfriend," Shepard told her. She smiled wryly. "He's just going to keep spouting poetry until you do."
The asari looked at the krogan, her face reflecting her indecision. "I know. But it's tough! I like him a lot. Hell, I love him. But … I don't know if he's permanent bond-material."
"Look at him," Shepard said. "He's obviously crazy about you."
The asari frowned. She wanted to believe, that much was clear, but was unable to force herself to choose. "Is he? I mean, what if he just wants to have kids? Am I just his baby-making machine? He said I wasn't, but—" She was talking herself in circles.
Shepard raised a hand to cut her off. "If he said that, then you either trust him, so you have nothing to worry about, or you don't, and you've already decided."
"I … I guess I hadn't thought about it that way. And I do trust him …" She looked at the krogan again, her eyes brightening as the doubt cleared. "I'm going to talk to him. Thank you."
Soon she and the krogan were gone, and it appeared all was right in their world. Shepard looked at Miranda and Thane. "Shall we?"
Thane followed her, listening to Miranda rib her about her soft heart, and he wondered if there was anyone who she trusted as implicitly as she had counseled the asari to do the krogan.