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While waiting for Mordin to finish synthesizing the genophage cure, the Normandy made another quick stop at the Citadel to resupply.
Shepard had another reason to visit, a task she very much wished she didn't have to undertake … but there was little choice. In the passages underground where the rachni queen had been taken so the Reapers could breed her twisted children, Shepard had found a dead krogan she recognized—and in his hands a data stick with a final message. Shepard felt she had no choice but to deliver that message in person. After all, a long time ago on Illium she had been the one to convince the krogan's asari lover to give him a chance at a more meaningful relationship. That it had ended this way was, at least partially, her fault.
She found the asari, Ereba, at work in her shop, and drew her away from the customers. "Commander Shepard?" Ereba asked. "What can I do for you?"
"I … bring news. Sad news." She put the data stick into Ereba's hand. "I'm sorry. I found Charr—he died bravely, in battle, in a way any krogan would be proud of. And he left this for you."
Ereba pressed the button on the side, and Charr's voice came out of it, speaking softly. "O Blue Rose of Illium, if these humble words reach you, then I have joined my ancestors."
"No. Oh, no. No. Oh, Charr …" Ereba whispered.
The voice went on, "My dream was to be by your side, a weed beside your beauty, twining together in the warm Tuchanka sun. But if my last days must be with krannt instead of kindness, still, I will remember the perfume of your scent and the soft touch of your petals. Let my broken bones build a wall around your garden, so you and the flower we planted together can grow safe and strong."
The tape came to an end. Tears were running down Ereba's face. She reached out to take Shepard's hand. "Thank you for bringing this to me. And … for everything."
"But …" Shepard didn't understand—it was because of her that Ereba was grieving.
"If it hadn't been for you, I might have let him go, and missed my only chance to be loved by a krogan poet. The kindest, gentlest person I ever knew." She gave a last squeeze to Shepard's hand and hurried off before she could break down entirely.
Shepard turned away from the store, running down the list of things she needed to pick up in her head. She didn't hear her name being called until Steve Cortez had almost caught up with her.
"I'm sorry, Commander, is this a bad time?"
"No, Lieutenant, not at all. I was just trying to remember everything—" She didn't want to make him feel guilty for interrupting her. "Nothing important. What can I do for you?"
"It's …" He looked down, shifting his feet awkwardly. Since Cortez didn't have an awkward bone in his body, there was only one thing this could be about—his husband. Shepard waited, not wanting to rush him. "There's this memorial wall the refugees have put up. They leave mementos of lost loved ones. I was thinking maybe— I've got to let go, Commander. For real this time."
"I think it's what he would have wanted you to do. He was pretty clear about it."
"He was, I know. Would you—would you mind coming with me? I'm afraid on my own … well, it would be nice to have someone else there."
"Of course. Do you want to go now?"
"Please. If you don't mind."
"I'll be happy to. Come on."
They didn't speak in the elevator on the way up. Cortez was turning the data stick with Robert's voice on it over and over in his hands. She knew he had every word, every breath, memorized. Robert's words would always be with him. But knowing that and being able to give up his last tangible link were two different things.
At the memorial wall, Cortez seemed to freeze. Shepard waited with him, not wanting to hurry this process. If he didn't do it on his own, it wouldn't have the same meaning.
Finally, he gave a deep shuddering sigh. "He'll always be a part of me."
She thought of Thane and Irikah, of Ereba's gratitude for the time she'd had with Charr. "Of course he will. Nothing can take those memories from you."
Steve nodded and stepped forward, carefully placing the data stick on the shelf with the framed photographs and the letters and notes that already filled it. So many lost already, Shepard thought. So many. And how many more, before she finally cut through everyone's errands and was able to attack the Reapers, much less defeat them? Too many.
Cortez was listening to the recording, one last time. Hanging back to give him his privacy, Shepard could hear the voice, but not the words. Before he stepped back, he said something to the recording, something Shepard couldn't hear. His final goodbye, she imagined. A hard thing to say, or to feel.
Now she did go to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Cortez turned to look at her. "I'm glad you came. Thank you."
"You're alive, Steve. That's a good thing."
"Maybe so. I … I'm grateful to you, Commander, for giving me a part to play in the bigger picture. It … it matters. I matter."
"Of course you do." She smiled, shaking his shoulder a little. "You've heard the stories about my driving. Nobody wants me piloting any shuttles."
He managed a smile in response. "No, ma'am, not if they're even half true."
"Half true? Hell, Steve, I think they understate it." She looked him over carefully. "Are you going to be all right?"
"Yes, Commander. This time … this time I am."