"Arius, what do you say about crashing a party?"
Arius had been silently seated in the starboard observation deck, taking some much-needed downtime after spending the day compiling the Crucible data for dissemination. The lights had been turned down, and the soft lighting in the room barely illuminated the pages of an antique book in his hands. Engrossed, he hadn't realized that someone was talking to him, and he looked up to the Commander, dazed. "I'm sorry, did you ask me something?"
Shepard plopped down on the couch next to him, holding out a datapad for him to read.
"Continuation of the Eclipse saga," she informed him, "You remember how I was telling you about what we found on Omega and the recent leadership takeover? The new leader, Dominic Solis, is hosting a corporate party at his villa. He's invited major investors and many others who have ties to the company. Kasumi found some building plans for the villa - a manufacturing plant and a large lab built into the structure right next door."
Arius took the offered data pad and skimmed its contents, eyes narrowing as he read. "Why would someone build a villa and factory in the middle of nowhere, in the Terminus systems no less? I don't even recognize this planet's name. The cost must have been extravagant. They're hiding something."
"We'll soon find out; Kasumi can secure us two invitations. So, want to help me crash the party?"
"Oh, we're going as… invited guests?" he asked her, surprised at her unusually subdued approach.
"Well, yes, how else?"
"Sorry, I imagined more... explosions and lives hanging in the balance."
"Hey!" she protested, playfully punching his shoulder. "I can mingle if I need to."
"Ha, fine. I'm not complaining, but why not take Kasumi with you instead? She's the stealth and infiltration expert."
"I did consider it, but look at Dominic's file - he's a human history nut with a penchant for new tech. You're probably best suited to any direct conversation with him."
He hummed, scratching his chin. "I haven't attended a soirée in some time, but I did bring a formal suit with me on board. The notes here state that Eclipse corp has been rolling out some armament changes recently, and Mr. Solis is giving a demo on the first evening... I can potentially use that. Okay, I need to make a couple of calls beforehand," he said, getting up, "but yes, I'm in."
.
Arius stepped through the doors to the briefing room with a large case in hand and then set it down on the table. While waiting, he fingered the emerald link on his left cuff, rolling it between his fingers absentmindedly. His hair was cut and styled back to prepare for the evening, the face was cleanly shaven. He wore a formal suit custom-tailored to meet his tall, muscular stature - midnight black and modelled after an older Earth-style at his request. In his estimation, he didn't like modern men's styles - too simple and too boxy.
"Arius, you ready to go?" he heard Shepard's voice behind him ask.
"I am," he responded and turned to greet her. What he saw took him aback.
Eden Shepard was an attractive woman by many standards: her unique hair and eye colour and the pleasing contours of her face to her body were shaped by years of hard physical training. Her personality, too, elicited magnetism - compassionate and considerate but also charged with a mischievous and fiery lets-get-it-done attitude. Yet he had only ever seen her in a full combat suit or in her usual loose-fitting, casual clothing aboard the Normandy. Before him now, her usual tousled, crimson hair was done up, and her piercing eyes were accentuated with light makeup. Around her neck, she wore a dazzling necklace, and hugging her curves was a tight black dress that left nothing to his imagination. He faltered, speechless.
She must have also not expected his appearance, for he saw a slight stagger in her expression.
"How do… Wow, you clean up well."
"Thank you. And you," he responded in turn, "look absolutely stunning this evening."
She was unable to stop a small blush from spreading to her cheeks. "Heh. Thanks. Let's head out; the shuttle is waiting."
.
"Let's go over the details again, just to be sure," she asked him as they descended toward the planet where the gathering was being held.
"Alright," he answered, running a hand through his hair. "Your name is Allison Gunn, freelance mercenary, colonist upbringing. You run a small but talented band of mercs in the Terminus systems. Naturally, you're a badass, credited with taking out Archangel himself when no other mercenary group could and Donovan Hock when he screwed you over on a weapons deal…. You know this isn't much different from reality."
"Eh, less to remember. If anyone asks us questions, we don't have to stretch our minds too far for an answer. My turn; you are Arius Farren. Raised on Earth. Educational background in xenoarchaeology. You're the head of Cryptox Industries. Your company specializes in prototype weapons development. But that's not really a lie either, is it?"
"Not as of recently. All official records now."
They both turned to look out the viewing window of the shuttle as they descended upon the planet. It was a ball of rock and water, giant grey slabs of bedrock surrounded by churning waves and towering cliffs. A strange place for a home, Arius thought, though the view was lovely.
His attention was soon drawn back toward Shepard, who sat across from him in the shuttle. The dimmed lights cast a faint glow upon her features and her dark dress, amplifying the unexpected sense of allure and simple beauty that resonated from her. Then he noticed the slight fidgeting of her hands and the hints of discomfort on her face. It wasn't nerves - was it irritation?
"You seem agitated. Is everything all right?"
"Wearing a hard suit on a planet full of sand is more comfortable than this outfit. We haven't even joined the party yet, and this thing is already riding up my butt."
He burst out laughing, caught off guard by her brazen honesty. "The explosions and lives-in-the-balance option is always available, you know."
"Nope, don't tempt me. This is the first proper date I've gone on since I died. Let's make the most of it."
Outside the window, the ground rushed up to meet them before levelling off. They had landed.
He rose, adjusted his suit, grabbed the case next to him and held out his free arm to her. "Shall we?"
She took his arm, and they stepped out of the shuttle.
.
"Say what you will about the man. At least Mr. Solis has good taste."
Upon landing, the couple realized just how massive the villa was. It was entirely glass and steel and stretched across the barren rock like a giant crystal formation.
"It looks incredibly expensive and fragile," Shepard said, eyes squinting to see the entire structure as rays of light reflected from the cut glass along its length and blinded their eyes. It was evening, although the sun had not yet set here. The days on this planet were short compared to Earth.
Armoured mercenaries clad in black armour with the white Eclipse logo stood sentry by the villa entrance and checked their identifications. Upon scanning, the guards' omni-tool gave two affirming beeps, and live itineraries delivered themselves into their omni-tools.
"Mr. Farren and Ms. Gunn, welcome to Mr. Solis' estate. Mr. Farren, the private showing will commence once Mr. Solis arrives. You'll be notified directly when the time comes. An associate can hold your item until you require it. Both of you, please enjoy your time here this evening."
He passed the case in his hands to the guard for safekeeping. Both thanked them cordially, stepped into the building and were dazzled by what they saw. Sprawling and majestic glass staircases spiralled from ground to top floor. A raised platform in the center, on it - an antique piano. Various artworks adorned the walls, and a long bar stretched against one side. Crystals and all manner of light refractive lenses hung at multiple lengths down from the high ceiling, scattering all light entering the villa into thousands of coloured fragments. After drinking in the magnificence of their surroundings, the duo slowly trotted toward the center of the large space, where the majority of patrons already present had congregated. It was a mixed crowd, with plenty of races present.
Shepard checked the time; Mr. Solis would not be arriving for some time. "Want to take a look around, Mr. Farren? Our host won't be joining us just yet."
"Why, of course, Ms. Gunn," he amicably agreed, playing along with her intentional charade. "Shall we start with the artwork in the west wing?" he asked her, motioning with his head to an array of wall-mounted artwork that continued further down the interior of the space.
"Lead us on."
He obliged, and the two casually strolled down the gallery, browsing the art pieces on display. While they stepped, he was struck by the contrary mixture of art styles - not between the collection's items but between the artwork and the space that housed them. The art, which he was delighted to find that he recognized, was mainly composed of older, classical pieces throughout human history, while the villa itself was deconstructivist - devoid of symmetry, harmony, or warmth. The art provided life within the colourless reflective walls of the villa and provided order and consistent form within the chaotic angles and reflections of the rooms in which they were housed.
"Is it just me that finds all this odd, having these in here?" Shepard asked him, evidently thinking the same thoughts he had been.
"Mhm. I was thinking the same thing. They're like… imperfections in a crystal."
They walked by the first pieces, painted just a few centuries prior: Hercules Fighting Death to Save Alcestis by Frederic Leighton and Mortality and Immortality by William Michael Harnett. The first was a powerful, moving dramatization of Greek mythology. In the myth, Alcestis, wife of Admetus, was willing to sacrifice herself so that her husband, who had angered Artemis, could live. The hero Hercules, a guest at Admetus's palace at the time of his wife's death, goes after Death and wrestles with him for the body of Alcestis to win her back. The painting was a still from the dramatic scene - Hercules wrestling with Death while onlookers wailed with grief. The second, more sombre painting was still life with a memento mori as the theme. Old things were piled upon a Victorian-looking tablecloth - books with worn leather spines, frayed music, a used candle, a dried rose, a skull. These, too, contrasted with one another - one depicting an active and violent effort against mortality, the other a passive and forlorn receding.
When they moved to the next piece, they saw that it portrayed a similar theme: An Allegory of Immortality by Giulio Romano. Various symbols were strewn about in the square painting, representing different aspects of immortality, which they took turns guessing. Shepard had noticed the phoenix rising out of the flames near the top, and he had spotted a serpent devouring its own tail - common motifs in human culture to describe rebirth and eternity, respectively.
"Our host seems to have a certain fascination with mortality… or the lack thereof." Arius voiced, to which Shepard agreed.
"The dates of the paintings seem to be receding as well," Shepard observed, pointing to the small plaques beneath each piece. "I wonder how far back we'll go."
They walked on, passing others who were also admiring the art, before approaching a small atrium with a skylight that bathed the interior with bright light.
"This may not be an appropriate time or place, but - may I ask you some personal questions while we walk?" Shepard asked him.
"Of course. Wait - am I going to regret this immediately?"
"Oh, most definitely."
He feigned a frightened look at her.
"I'm kidding. No, nothing too invasive. Since you've been on board, you've told me parts of your story - working, preparing, fighting…"
"Yeah, I'd say that's most of it," he quipped.
"Come on. I know about some of the bits about the Reapers, but those are only small parts of your life with vast stretches in between. Tell me about those in-between parts."
He turned his gaze from the art to look at her, curious about her emerging line of questioning. "I'll need you to narrow it down a little for me. What would you like to know, specifically?"
"Gosh, I don't know. You've done a lot of living, Arius - what's your life been like outside of fighting the Reapers? For instance, have you ever settled down, gotten married, had kids? If so, how many times? Can you remember them all? Do you ever get lonely? Do you ever feel disconnected from us normal-lifespan folk? Do you think that there are others out there like-"
"Wait, wait, wait, one question at a time," he implored her, gently placing his free hand over hers wrapped around his arm. Warmth spread through the contact. "We have plenty of time, and I'm not going anywhere."
"Mhm. Tell that to the list of questions I started. It only ever gets longer every time I talk to you."
He raised an eyebrow. "You have a list?"
She nodded to him as they looked down at another piece that had caught their attention: the Portrait Head of Pakal the Great. It was a large stucco sculpture of an ancient Mayan ruler's head from the seventh century. A small plaque read that the ruler possessed one of the longest verified regnal periods of any sovereign monarch in human history.
"Who wouldn't? You know practically everything about me. It's only fair if I get a crack at you in return."
"Humph. Do I know everything about you? I find that hard to imagine. You must be significantly less interesting than I believed you to be."
"Ouch, okay. Maybe not everything. A girl has to keep some secrets."
He grinned, giving a chuckle inwardly. He looked down into one of the last pieces of the collection, painted papyrus from a copy of the ancient Egyptian Book Of The Dead. Painted on the medium, a funerary rite was being performed to weigh a man's heart against the 'feather of truth'. If his heart weighed the same as the feather, he would pass into the afterlife. If not, it would be devoured by the deity Ammit.
"For your first two questions, yes, I have. A few times. I never had biological children of my own, as I was born quite late in my cycle, but I've raised a few over the years. Yes, of course, I remember them."
"I assumed that was the case. Do you think any of their lineages are still going to those that you raised? Do you keep track of them?"
"No, I've made a choice not to; Once they've properly started their own lives and maybe families if they so choose, I let them go. They need to be the master of their own fates and find how best to live in the world in a way that matters most to them. That's the prime directive of any parent, no?"
"I guess? Can't say that I have much experience on that topic, but thanks for indulging me."
He nodded once, acknowledging her when he spied something by a far wall of the atrium. "My goodness, he has some tablets?" Arius whispered with quiet excitement, leading them hurriedly to a transparent enclosure under one of the internal awnings of the open atrium. Behind the transparent panes were yellow, crumbling clay tablets covered with tiny wedge-shaped markings.
She watched him survey the exhibit, curious about his specific captivation with the subject behind the protective enclosure. His eyes darted to and fro as he followed the markings line by line, and she held little doubt that he could read them.
"What are they?" she asked him.
"Four-thousand-year-old clay tablets from ancient Mesopotamia," he answered. "The script is cuneiform, looks to be from the late-era - one of the oldest human writing systems, in the language of ancient Sumerian. Remarkable in its own right, but what's on the tablets interests me. Are you familiar with the Epic of Gilgamesh? No? It's the oldest written story in human history. It tells of an ancient Mesopotamian king who tried to conquer death."
"Was he successful?"
"No," he answered, crossing his arms. "Not in the way the king had originally wanted, but... perhaps he did conquer death in the way that mattered most."
"Tell me about it. Can you give me a summary?"
"Of course. I can provide you with a fully faithful translation later if you'd like, but this is the short of it," he said, and his voice took on a new, deeper tone as he began telling.
"The story begins by telling of an ancient king blessed by the gods. Because his greatness is unchallenged, he becomes an insatiable tyrant and rules his people harshly. The people pray for a reprieve, and in answer, the gods send down a wild man who, after becoming civilized by a priestess, becomes equal in blessings to the king and challenges him. The two wrestle through the streets," he told her, twisting his fists around one another, "and the king eventually wins, buthaving never been challenged in such a way before, becomes humbled and takes in the former beast as a brother. The two, now inseparable, go off on adventures, defeating monsters and accomplishing great feats together."
He drew his hand outwardly as if to gesture toward the limitless future, but his visage fell. "As often happens, the consequences of their actions eventually catch up with them. They anger the gods, and the king's brotherly companion is struck down and killed by an illness. Distraught, the king searches for ways to bring his friend back, then realizes that he too will one day die. He sets off on one last adventure to find immortality and passes through many trials… but alas, the reward he seeks escapes him. Realizing it is a fruitless effort, he makes peace with his mortality and vows to spend his remaining lifetime doing great deeds. Ultimately, he writes his story on a tablet and buries it, hoping that future generations would heed his journey and learn from it."
Arius turned to look at the tablets again, and she glimpsed his eyes, scanning the indecipherable marks once more. He scoffed softly. "The king may not have become immortal, but his name and story did. The king's fear of death has often been interpreted as a fear of meaninglessness, and although he fails to win immortality, the quest itself gives his life meaning. It's fitting that it's the first story ever written down. There's a lot of human wisdom packed into there - that life and the bonds between one another are a continual struggle but reveal to us our greatest potential. That great things cannot be achieved without others. To cherish the life you have… and that all the splendours of a city are nothing without someone to share them with."
"Forgive me if I've misread you," Shepard sarcastically posed, "but you strike me as an awfully sentimental person."
He shrugged with a sheepish grin. "It comes naturally with age. I don't want to give you the impression that human history was sunshine and rainbows either - it was most certainly not. Life was, and in some ways still is, hard. Predation, disease, famine, war - you've been slaughtering and enslaving your brothers and sisters since your inception. The current state of individual freedom and health among humankind is a miracle only manifested within the last five hundred years or so. Yet... through the adversity of life's eternal struggles, your people have brought forth incredible insights on how to deal with your mortality and how to live your lives in such a way to make the suffering of life worthwhile. I have much to thank your ancestors for; they taught me a lot."
Shepard crossed her arms, unsure of what to say, then shook her head incredulously. "I'm going to be honest - you are not at all what I expected you to be when I first got that dossier from the Illusive Man."
"Oh? Humour me; what were you expecting?"
"For real? A vampire, probably. Dark, broody, and who solely subsisted on the blood of his fallen enemies."
He burst out laughing again in that booming voice, attracting the disdain of the nearby patrons who were also busy observing the art.
"We all have our moods," he light-heartedly remarked before his voice took on a grave tone. "It's important for us to enjoy these peaceful times while we have them. Once the Reapers arrive, we'll soon slip into madness and will only dream of these better days."
A notification arrived on their omni-tools. The man of the hour had arrived.
