Setix 21.2, 89997 of Tapek Menru con't
"The birth of a god," Peduk repeated. The soldier's hissed whisper raked superstitious claws down Shepard's back. "A sovereign to bring all life to its knees."
Shepard gave the soldier a push toward an exit in the far wall. "It's a Reaper. We have seen them before. Keep moving." Shepard held the words up like a shield, holding her own fear at bay. "Stay out of sight. Move from cover to cover. Attit, rearguard, watch that nothing follows."
He saluted. "Yes, Commander. Rearguard, aye." Shepard smiled to herself, the warmth and trust in her son's eyes, the blazing torch of respect burning in their depths, bolstering her courage and resolve. She thumped him on the shoulder as she passed, an acceptable outlet for the maternal pride tying knots in her throat.
Taking point, she strode around the outside of the chamber, using the only weapons in her arsenal capable of combating the sheer evil radiating from the unborn Reaper—action and aggression. Unlike most of her peers, she never considered the Reapers evil despite the apparent evil of their actions. Instead, she thought of them as monsters too vast to understand, monsters driven by needs or an agenda beyond comprehension. Like giants treading upon ants infesting their garden, she'd believed some sort of territorial imperative at work.
And then that chamber and the abomination being birthed there.
That horror, fashioned from the bodies of sapient beings— A shudder that started in her gut and burst outward like a solar flare cut that thought off at the root. She knew, having stared upon it and having stood in its shadow, she had borne witness to an evil so great that it proved an anathema to the force of life itself. Even after forty cycles of fighting the Reapers in every form imaginable nothing had prepared her for the truth housed within that chamber.
Was the reproduction of the monsters common knowledge throughout the empire? Had she . . . and, judging by the pallor of his skin, Merol been left uninformed? A low growl rumbled in her throat. No doubt the leadership knew and classified the information dangerous to morale. Ah, the crippling folly of the bureaucrats.
Shepard stepped out through a massive archway, breathing a sigh of relief as she left the chamber and looked down a long ramp. Just over a hundred metres to the Conduit and then they could escape that thing's presence. Shepard took point as her small squad stepped out onto the downward slope. Piles of bodies mouldered everywhere, but still she saw no sign of ground units. Like small rodents venturing out into a raptor's hunting ground, she hurried them on. Truly, their only hope of success lay in being swift and avoiding detection as long as possible.
"We cannot be here," Peduk whispered as their descent levelled. The soldier jumped and started, spinning to keep her rifle pointing everywhere at once, jabbing the barrel toward shadowy enemies that Shepard couldn't see. Freezing in place so suddenly that she startled Shepard, Peduk met the commander's eyes. "That thing. Did you see that thing? It is not enough for them to kill us, they steal our bodies, turning us into abominations." Looking up as if entreating answers of the stars, Peduk spun a slow circle. "Everyone, everywhere stolen and turned into the enemy." She made a retching sound.
Shepard pulled her sidearm, aiming it at the panicking soldier's head. "Peduk, calm yourself. You are placing the mission in jeopardy." Gut churning at the monstrosity of pointing her weapon at one of her own, Shepard flicked off the safety. Ice cold steel held her aim solid and sure. As much as her soul might ache to kill the young female, Commander Jacar suffered no threat to mission success. "I grant you a six-count to regain control of your faculties, or I will shoot you. One . . . two . . . three . . .."
The soldier gulped a handful of times, visibly shoring herself up against the fear. Before Shepard reached four, Peduk nodded. "Yes, Commander Jacar. My apologies."
"Apologies do not gloss over failure with success. We approach the end of the struggle, Peduk. Do better." Shepard traded her sidearm for her particle rifle, climbing the ramp that led back out of the fabricated canyon. The dead bodies thinned out, disappearing by the time she reached the top and the ramp levelled into a wide, round platform.
A series of columns rose, step-like, from the center of the platform, culminating twenty metres above her head in a form so black and exuding such menace that her eyes refused to look at it for longer than a fraction of a second. Still, she knew that up there, a terrible mockery of floral form latched tentacle-like petals around a stamen of blinking lights and bio-mechanical interfaces.
The Conduit.
Tendrils of pure darkness lashed the space around it, ethereal fingers of despair and hopelessness striking out, lashing them with whispers, the inevitable music of the indoctrination signal. Shepard strode across the platform, giving the Conduit's column a wide berth. During the recovery of the first key—the Fulcrum— a single brush of a tendril reduced three of her team to ash while driving four others into an indoctrinated frenzy.
Walking to the edge of the platform, Shepard looked out over the entirety of the Citadel, its presidium and wards dark but for a few, scattered lights blinking weakly in the half light. Its purpose nearly fulfilled, the galaxy's largest trap closed down, awaiting rediscovery tens of thousands of cycles after all traces of the dead disappeared into dust.
Strange that despite hiding out on dead planet after dead planet, constantly reminding herself of the truth as she wandered amongst the dead, she had never truly felt like the last of sapient life. Perhaps the reality of so much death, such absolute destruction, proved too large and horrible for even a prothean mind to comprehend and accept.
Standing there with the Conduit at her back, and the empty Citadel laid out before her, Shepard felt the truth like cement hardening in her gut. Every planet where high civilization once thrived—grand battles waged; edifices magnificent and ridiculous built to tower over the land; great works of art, music, and literature created—nothing remained, all traces destroyed. Only monstrosities remained, soulless and empty. Without their masters, even they would fall, joining the dust.
Snapping her shoulders back, Shepard spun away from the dead and back to her duty, striding toward a lone control console a few metres behind her. Deciphering the console in a couple of seconds, she keyed the controls to retract the platforms, lowering the Conduit from its seat. The moment the great key detached from the interfaces, the deadly emanations ceased, but she knew that even then the artifact remained far from harmless. Reaper technology did not need power flowing through it to indoctrinate.
As it lowered to floor level range, she reached into the pack on her belt, taking out three containment barrier emitters. Activating them, she calibrated them to counter its unique frequency before tossing one to both Merol and Attit.
With the smooth confidence of practice, the three of them encircled the Conduit, magnetizing the emitters before throwing them to latch onto the black, oil-slick-on-water metal of the thing.
"Raising containment barrier in three, two, one," Shepard said. She let out a shallow breath as the shield blinked to life, shrouding the thing's indoctrination field. She nodded for Merol to run his scans, making sure the Conduit was safe to move, then pulled her rifle and strode back to the top of the ramp. Time to move. More than time to move in truth.
Faint sounds, warbling cries, roars, and growls, drifted through the dead air, warning her that their actions had not gone without notice.
"We are not going to remain alone up here for long," she called, waving Attit forward into a defensive position.
"Containment barrier is solid," Merol reported. "Preparing anti-grav field." Her mate muttered to himself a little as he worked, an old habit that comforted her, easing fear's claws from her spine. But then he shouted, his voice sharp enough to cut, "Peduk, stay back. You know better than to wander too close. Go guard the ramp."
Shepard threw a knife-edged glance at Peduk as the soldier stepped up beside her. The claws buried themselves in her spine once more, bringing her rifle around to point at the female. "Peduk, are you all right?"
"Yes, Commander. Apologies. I do not understand why this place is rolling me so far off balance." Peduk rolled her shoulders and neck. "I shall wrestle it under control."
Shepard nodded, her gun moving away as Peduk's tone of voice failed to trigger her alarm, lacking the dull, lost in thought quality she recognized all too well. Shepard nodded toward the ramp. "Peduk, proceed halfway down the ramp, and keep your senses sharp." She glanced down at her scanner, no movement registering within a three hundred metre radius. Still, the sounds of a great many nightmares echoed through the dead air, closing in on their position.
"Ready to move out," Merol called.
Shepard didn't look back. "Attit, rearguard." Striding out, trusting both her mate and son to cover their positions and duties, she focused on getting the Conduit past the Vanguard. Would the key wake the dreaming Reaper? Did it already feel their presence? So many unknowns, and her only recourse lay in moving forward, moving quickly, and hoping for the best. Trusting to chance and fortune never sat comfortably. Both proved far too fickle to make good allies.
The first ground units attacked just before they reached the archway back into the Vanguard's chamber. Three prothean abominations leaped down from above, throwing Merol to the ground.
With the enemy engaged at last, Shepard's fear disappeared into a fierce ruthlessness. Her biotics could harm Merol, so she shoved her rifle into the side of the thing's head and held the trigger until the particle beam erupted from the far side. Issuing a challenging roar, she kicked the body off the side of the ramp. Attit and Peduk took down another while Shepard dragged her mate up onto his feet and shoved him through the archway.
"Peduk! Disengage and take point. Get Merol and the Conduit to the ship." She grabbed the collar of Peduk's armour and pulled her out of the line of fire as a massive amalgam of three species, one of them turned into a massive arm cannon, opened fire. As soon as she got Peduk clear, Shepard lashed out with her biotics, snatching the horror from the walkway and flinging it over the edge.
Every nightmare faced over the course of forty cycles of warfare made an appearance, leaping, swooping, and climbing into battle with weapons, teeth, claws, and biotics. Fighting backwards, it took Shepard and Attit several minutes to make it through the archway. Once through, she let out a sharp hiss of relief and sprinted for the far door, allowing the equipment and crates to cover their retreat.
Halfway across the room, Shepard paused to thin the ranks of their pursuers, sending Attit on to watch his father's back and assist in maneuvering the Conduit through the door.
"We're through," Merol called on the radio. "No enemy units between the door and the ship."
"Understo—"
The chamber erupted into a buzzing klaxon-roar so loud that it dropped Shepard to her knees. She covered her head with her arms as the entire room trembled.
The roar died, replaced by the steady thunder and hiss of pressurized seals releasing. Scrambling back up onto her feet, Shepard looked up at the Reaper. Racing down the length of its form, the tubes broke free, pulling back against the wall. After staring at it for a moment, stunned and shaken, comprehension dawned, horror following close on its heels.
The Vanguard was being born.
"Tashac!" Merol called, his shout nearly drowned out by the Reaper. "Come! We have arrived at the ship but need your codes to enter."
Shepard tried to listen, to force her feet to obey, but she stood, frozen and immobile, staring up at the nightmarish construct. All thought and will and purpose disappeared from her mind as it stared directly back at her. No, not at her, into her. It felt as though the Reaper slipped along her neural pathways, burning them up as it sought out the heart of her. It spoke, unformed words like the mutters and mumbles of a dreamer. Even without sense or meaning, the terrible machine voice tore through her, shredding any remaining control she held over her fear.
"Tashac! Come! We need you."
Merol's voice broke the Reaper's grip, tearing her feet from the floor and sending her running for the door. Swift and sure, Shepard leaped over the dead, climbing the pile jammed in the doorway in three jumps. Moving with a dancer's grace, she navigated the strewn corpses and Caretakers.
Another klaxon sounded, the umbilicals continuing to release, moving down through kilometres of station, and the Reaper began to stir in the tight confines of its chamber as she reached the ship. Frantic, but sure, fingers entered the codes. Stepping away from the ramp as it descended, Shepard turned to face the ground units that appeared in the open door. Instinct and training, her old friends, stepped up, steadying her aim, making her fast and deadly.
Attit and Peduk stood by her side, their rifles cutting down the enemy before they could get through the door.
"The Conduit is aboard," Merol's voice called in Shepard's ear.
"Go," Peduk yelled. "I will keep them from overwhelming us."
Shepard ran up the ramp, Attit following directly on her heels. When she heard the hollow ring of Peduk's boots on metal, she hit the controls, cycling the ramp closed even as the soldier climbed. Popping the seals on her helmet, Shepard ripped it off and threw it aside. They needed to get to the relay before the Vanguard broke free of the Citadel.
"Mother!"
Attit's cry exploded through Shepard's heart, the missile pulverizing the organ before blowing through her chest wall. Without turning back, without hearing his body hit the floor, she knew that her last son was dead. The punch of breath pushing out the title he never used told her everything in a flash of horrified understanding.
Grief-stricken and wild, her biotics flared to life around her, only Merol's presence forcing the power down into her hands rather than lashing out everywhere at once. Her hands burned like stars, leaving blind trails across her vision as she spun on the killer. Unleashing her power in a burst strong enough to blast a vehicle aside, she struck Peduk full in the chest. The sickening, wet crunch of bone shattering and impacting organs provoked no remorse or grief, only righteous fury. The soldier flew the length of the crew corridor to slam into the bulkhead, the terminal crack of shattered spine echoing off the metal walls.
Shepard ran to her son, sliding the last metre on her knees. She cradled his head in the crook of her elbow, her other hand fluttering over the long, curved hilt erupting from the seam between two plates of Attit's armour. Peduk had buried the blade deep within his body, piercing his heart with an assassin's precision. His eyes stared into hers without seeing, his spirit, so bright and fierce, already departed to join the antecessors.
Wrapping a desperate grip around the pain, Shepard leaned down, caressing the peak of her brow against her son's cheek and kepala. She tried to speak the words of blessing, but they choked her, wrapping around her larynx. Her last child . . . the light blinking out on one more piece of her soul, soon to leave her as dark and dead as the Citadel.
The ship shuddered as the buzzing roar ripped through the Citadel again, warning them that the monstrosity hanging amidst those tubes and wires stirred, its dreams evolving into thought as it awakened, ready to be born.
"Go," Merol said, the lack of music in his tone hitting her like a blow to the gut, expelling what little air remained to her. He gave her a gentle push. "I will lie our son in his bed until this ugliness is past. Go."
She nodded and laid Attit on the deck plating. Standing, she took a step toward the cockpit, then turned back. Rage burned bright once more, incinerating her sorrow, and furious strides carried her down the ship at a quick step. Peduk's eyes flickered, rolling up to focus a stare of pain and fear on Shepard as the commander loomed over her.
"Four of us remaining," Shepard growled as she grabbed the back of Peduk's armour, dragging the broken soldier to the ramp. "Four and you get too close. After so many missions, after all your training, you panic and step into an indoctrination field."
Thick, warbling gasps of sound issued from Peduk's lips, but they formed no words, and even if they had, Shepard would just as soon have deafened herself than listen to them. She hit the control to lower the ramp, descending as it moved. Half way down, she stopped, grabbed hold of one of the hydraulics to steady herself, and heaved, throwing the indoctrinated soldier's body the rest of the way off the ship.
"Die with your masters, traitor," Shepard said, hatred as thick and black as tar oozing from the jagged shards of her heart. "May your spirit dwell in the darkness and pain of your betrayal forever." Virulent and alive, the rancor boiled within her, bubbling up to spew from her lips like vomit, pouring down the front of her and filling her airways until she felt as though she would drown in it. Peduk rolled down the last metre of the ramp, landing in a heap facing up, her eyes latching onto Shepard. The commander held that stare as the ramp closed, only turning away once it sealed.
Wooden, Shepard marched to the cockpit and threw herself into her seat. The ship shuddered as the Reaper screamed in its birthing throes. "We require a new route out of the structure," she called to Merol when entered the bridge. "We must assume that Peduk betrayed our route to her masters."
Merol nodded and set to work at his console while she brought the thrusters online and lifted off. Spinning the ship one hundred and eighty degrees, she sent it darting forward at its best possible speed. No doubt the Vanguard's womb led directly out to space. Their only chance lay in emerging at an unexpected location and bolting for the relay.
The nimble little frigate darted through the massive beams and girders of the station's insides, eventually finding its way out into abandoned traffic tunnels.
"If we remain in these tunnels, we can travel the entire length of this ward before we are forced to exit." Merol's fingers flew over the computer console and screens. "The Reaper is emerging from the base of the presidium ring beneath the tower."
Shepard nodded, adjusting the course to take them another tunnel closer to the surface. "The Reaper is capable of much greater speed than we are. Hopefully the dampers and emission sinks keep us hidden until we activate the relay." Despite their stealth technology having kept them hidden from Reaper sensors for more than five cycles, she took no risks, guiding them along a slightly longer route, compensating for the distance by pushing the speed past anything she considered sane or safe.
"Merol, you will have to activate the relay as soon as we are within range. Synchronize with my computer. I will avoid taking us onto a direct path for the rings until the very last remaining moment." She nodded toward the light of the nebula showing ahead. "We are about to emerge from the station."
"The Reaper is clear as well and moving toward the relay. We are already within range of its primary weapon."
Shepard nodded without looking away from her controls. Making sure the massive red laser did not render the Prothean Empire extinct before they reached the relay required all of her focus.
"The Reaper is firing." The laser seared through the nebula more than five hundred kilometres to port. "Stealth systems appear to be working." From the corner of her eye, Shepard saw the relay interface open as Merol said, "Starting the activation sequence now."
"I will circle around and approach from behind the relay, bringing us in on the far side." She sent the fleet little frigate soaring off the approach vector, keeping their movements unpredictable. Time after time, the Reaper fired, none of the shots coming close, but they did not need to. Eventually, their ship would have to intercept the rings, a much smaller, predictable target.
"Try to discern a firing pattern," she commanded. "A mean time between shots . . . anything to help."
"Lock on to the relay in six, five, four, three, two, one."
When Merol reached the count of one, Shepard set the vector, dropping down to approach velocity. The Vanguard's laser scorched through the space less than a kilometre off their bow, setting off the ship's alarms, but then the relay arced, grabbing their little vessel and shooting it off through space.
Setix 10.0 89998 of Tapek Menru
Ilos. Shepard's lips pressed thin in a weary but relieved smile as the planet appeared in the forward port, the scanners reporting no Reaper presence in the system.
Cycles had passed since she last visited the silent graveyard of the Inusannon. The site's security and secrecy proved far too important to risk anything more than visits of absolute necessity. Remote even for the Prothean Empire, Ilos would wait out the millennia, hiding the Conduit and an entire science division in its underground bunkers.
A flash of green appeared on Shepard's screen. "Identify," the holographic interface commanded.
"Hello, Vigil. Commander Tashac Jacar and Merol Natil aboard Senarium frigate four. Cargo, Attit Jacar, deceased, and Reaper technology catalogued as the Conduit."
"Identities and cargo confirmed. Welcome back to Ilos, Commander Jacar. Please release navigational control to prepare for landing. You will be able to disembark in approximately two setixs."
Shepard did as the VI asked, relinquishing control. All her interfaces blinked out and the shields closed over all the ports. Only Vigil knew their course and destination, ensuring it could never be betrayed to the enemy. Finally able to lean back in her chair and relax a little, she turned to look at her mate. Merol met her gaze for a moment then held out his hand.
Grief closed in around her as his fingers gripped hers. The Conduit was safe, but the cost . . ..
Merol tugged on her hand, coaxing her from her seat then pulling her into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her in silence. They had never needed words, their souls open and laid bare to one another. Only those who kept secrets needed words.
Setix 14.1 89998 of Tapek Menru
Merol carried Attit through the complex, following Vigil's directions, the VI opening doors and finally an elevator to allow them passage. The lift swept down through layers of ruins, some reclaimed from the jungle, most still covered in vines and wide-leafed plants growing out of the cracks. Lights, glowing panels set into the walls, beamed through open slats in the side of the car, giving her the impression of descending a great depth. After many levels, the elevator opened into a tunnel.
"If you follow the path, you should locate an aesthetically pleasing location to lay your son's body to rest," Vigil explained in its carefully modulated tones.
Shepard slipped an arm around Merol as her mate turned down the tunnel, carrying Attit with tireless ease. She focused on him, feeling his sorrow and anger as keenly as her own, using them to push aside the many demands she wished to make of Vigil. A proper time and place to get her answers and finalize the affairs of the empire would appear. As comforting as she would find it to vanish into the role of commander, for the moment, she needed to bear the grief of mother and mate.
The tunnel led out into what appeared to have been a formal garden back when people inhabited the city. Statues lined the high walls, their forms disturbing in a way that never ceased to be less discomfitting with time and exposure. She supposed they represented the Inusannon, a race she could not consider beautiful, but it was not their form that bothered her. What reached into her and set her teeth on edge was the sorrow and pathos, the defeat that emanated from them.
Protheans fought. From the moment they battled their way out of the womb, protheans considered the obstacles and challenges presented by life as opportunities to beat their world and destiny into submission. Those statues with their bent heads and downcast eyes felt like philosophical antimatter, as if the slightest brush against one would cause an annihilation event.
Shepard turned her back on the statues, looking up through layers of stepped walls and overhanging foliage. She loved Ilos, despite its tragedy . . . and its statues. Every single bit of fauna on the planet, other than the research team, had been dead for 50,000 cycles. Not even a lonely insect droned through the foliage. For a soldier, fighting and struggling for more than forty cycles, the peace of the place . . . the complete silence . . . came as close to paradise as she could hope for.
"You were correct, Vigil," she said, turning a slow circle. "This garden is perfect." She brushed Merol's cheek with the backs of her fingers. "What do you think?"
Merol nodded, but remained silent. As Attit's mother, the person who brought him forth into life, the responsibility for his final disposition fell to her. She stepped past her mate, following the lines and paths of the garden to a small, secluded nook between a series of columns. The sunlight streamed down through an open ceiling while vines grew riot, forming walls of teeming, flowering, sweet-smelling life.
"Here," she said, turning her face up to the sun. "He spent so little of his life able to look up into a sun and feel the warmth on his face. Too many cycles spent hiding underground, hiding on ships and dead worlds, slinking beneath notice like some sort of rodent. Now the sun and stars will watch over him as he lays out in the open, returning to the elements, unafraid and at peace."
Merol placed Attit's body in the center of the space and knelt next to his son's head. "Rest easy, strong warrior. Your bravery and sacrifice have earned you an honoured place among the antecessors." He brushed the peak of his brow along Attit's cheek. "No male has ever felt more gratitude to have helped bring a son into the galaxy. I wish so many things could have been different . . . that you could have been born into a time of victory, but those are selfish wishes, for you were born into the time in which you were most needed. You have saved us and the future many times. Now take your rest. You will be remembered with love and pride."
Shepard knelt on the opposite side of her son and bent to touch her brow to his. "As I brought you into life, I release you from it, my last child." She clenched her teeth, swallowing against the emptiness. "If a portion of a mother's honour is reflected from her children, I shall shine brighter even than a supernova. You and your siblings have been the greatest honour and joy of my life. Rest easy, beautiful, brave warrior. Take your place among the antecessors. As I gave you life, I release you."
She remained bent over him for long moments, too long to be seemly, but in that moment, her brow touching that of her last child's, her people—anyone who would judge her weak for her attachments—gone, she could not manage to care about appearances.
"Tashac." Merol's voice, as always, pulled her back. "Our duties are not yet complete."
"Goodbye," she whispered then straightened. Standing, she turned away from the empty vessel that had once carried her last son. Merol was correct. Grief could wait for the Conduit to be locked away. It could wait to leave behind their messages for the future. It could wait. Grief could always wait.
Setix 15.3 89998 of Tapek Menru
Shepard palmed the door control, pausing to imprint herself on the lock. "How long ago did the research team go into the pods, Vigil?" She stepped into the small, dark room at the very bottom of the base.
"Fifteen days ago, Commander Jacar."
"And the base is working as expected? All systems performing at optimal?" She stepped back out of the way, allowing Merol to guide the Conduit in the door.
"It is, Commander. Once the Conduit is secured, you may record your final imprints at your leisure."
"We will." She walked back to the door. "What measures are in place to keep this room secure?"
"The elevator and door will only open if presented with both your imprint and that of Dr. Natil. Both imprints must be free of indoctrination. Unauthorized personnel will not be able to proceed past the elevator door in the main complex if the base is breached."
Shepard smiled, not as relieved as she would have hoped for. It sounded solid. It sounded as though the Conduit should be safe forever, particularly once she and Merol succumbed to time. Still, part of her mind kept spinning, trying to find a hole to explain her lack of confidence.
She opened her mouth, a question about the power grid forcing its way to the fore, but then Merol stepped away from the Conduit.
"I'm finished," he said. "Are you ready to go?"
She looked into his eyes for a moment, then nodded, sensing that he meant more than being finished securing the Conduit. She held her question, returning to the elevator.
"Is there somewhere we could rest, Vigil?" Shepard asked. "Some food? This day seems to have started more than a week ago. Once we eat and rest, we can work on closing out our reports and recording our messages."
"Your quarters were prepared and stocked in anticipation of your arrival," the VI replied. "I will direct the elevator to take you to that wing of the facility."
Setix 16.4, 1 of Kirash Par
Their rest and recuperation lasted three days. Shepard wandered the base, talking with the VI, leaving her last report in bits and pieces, some spoken, most through direct tactile interface. Merol haunted the labs, checking and rechecking that the containment barrier around the Conduit would hold, keeping the deadly artifact hidden and harmless to the researchers sleeping many levels above it.
At last, on the third day, they rose late, prepared the frigate for space, and then descended through the base to Vigil's mainframe.
"Commander Jacar, welcome. Please step forward and leave your message," the VI intoned.
Shepard walked forward, leaving Merol a few paces back. Still, once she stood before Vigil, she just stared at the holographic image. After all those cycles . . . an end. At last. Perhaps she and Merol could find somewhere quiet to just breathe for a little before succumbing to old age. She reached out, fingers caressing Vigil's controls like an old friend's hand. Funny, to think of a computer program with a face as a friend. Product of the times, perhaps. So few real companions left. A single tear slipped over her cheek as Attit and Giran's faces breezed through her mind, her most recent losses.
One real companion left.
"My name is Commander Tashac Jacar, head of the Senarium. My people are gone. Everything they were has turned to dust, but for this message. Whomever you are, take the gift my people bought with their lives and their sorrow. Take it and make certain that your cycle ends the Reapers and their masters forever. I have done my part. It cost me more than half my soul, but the Conduit, the Principal, the Nexus, the Fulcrum, and the Crux are all safely hidden. If our luck holds, the Reaper vanguard will never locate them to open the five great relays to dark space."
She glanced back at Merol for a moment before continuing, the undying support in his beautiful, golden stare shoring up her failing strength. "If you are watching this recording, the Reapers are rising. If you must, destroy the great keys, but if you are of the sort of mind and spirit to have made it this far, I offer you another option. Use them. Discover what the masters are hiding out there beyond the rim of what is known. Bring them down to shatter with a force so great that it will resound throughout time." She smiled, a thin, savage tear across her face. "Even across the millennia, I will feel your victory and rejoice when it avenges everyone I ever loved."
Withdrawing her hand, Shepard stepped back. "Thank you, Vigil. Take care of our friends here. May they find their way out into a brand new galaxy.
"Live in courage and strength, Commander."
She nodded. "I shall. Once we are clear of the elevator, you may put the base to sleep and power down. Rest well through the ages . . . my friend."
"Good-bye, Tashac. May your courage guide your fortune."
She inclined her head a little and backed away three steps before turning toward Merol.
He stared at her, disbelief trying to force its way through the horror of the past two days. "Where do we go? We are alone in the galaxy."
"No." Shepard strode over and took both of his hands in hers, their emotions for one another, their despair, pain, and relief all tangling into a mess she ached to release into the waters. "We're free. There are still the primitive races. What if we took our tiny ship to the blue planet, that one where the elder element sings so beautifully?" She pulled him around, starting up the long ramp to the elevator, her arm wrapped tightly around him.
"The one where we found Nexus?" He nodded. "The blue primitives are very attractive."
Chuckling, she shook her head. "Talking like that, I'd think you a youth at the beginning of your first mating cycle."
His arm slipped around her. "No. I am an old prothean, my mating days come and gone, and I am well content with the mother of my last children." He looked down at the cement. "Giran and Attit are at peace. Perhaps we can find some for ourselves in the mountains of the elderment planet."
Shepard brushed the peak of her brow against his as she stopped at the elevator door, tenderness adding a poignant layer to her pathos. Looking up at the pods, she whispered. "Keep it hidden. Above all else, my friends, honour the price we paid and keep it hidden well." Turning away from the last hope for her species' survival, she nodded for Merol to touch the elevator pad.
"Overview recording—Merol Natil—complete."
When her mate stepped into the elevator, Shepard pressed her hand against the elevator control, leaving behind her last imprint.
"Overview recording—Tashac Jacar—complete. Sending completed packet to beacon network. Elevator and security rerouting to automated systems. Vigil powering down."
Shepard jumped straight out of bed onto her feet. "Must keep it hidden. Keep it safe." Her knees gave out, but she spun and caught herself, palms hitting the mattress. Eyes open, but unseeing, she watched the past fade into mist, Merol and her children slipping away as the last note of the rachni queen's song faded.
"My family," she whispered, stumbling down the side of the bed. "No, don't leave me." She clutched at the memories, desperate to hold onto them, but they slipped through her fingers like sand.
"Shepard?" Rustling in the dim light. "Are you okay? What's going on?" Garrus's voice tugged at her, a gentle tether easing her back to reality. "Did you have a nightmare?"
She shook her head, a strangled sob gasping from her throat before she could crush it. "Parts of it were definitely nightmare," she whispered, turning slowly. "Attit . . .." Straightening, she turned a slow circle, her eyes searching the dim room as the silent walls of Ilos disappeared, replaced by the Normandy's bulkheads. Finally, her gaze found Garrus, the familiar concern and affection in his stare, helping settle her back into her own skin. "I had a dream, Garrus. I dreamed a whole life."
Long, heavy strides raced across the mess, pounding against the deck plating with an urgency that pulled her to the door. She palmed the control and it opened on Nihlus, standing there, shirtless, chest heaving, hand raised to knock.
Her heart pounded out nearly a minute's worth of beats as she just stared at the Spectre, seeing in his eyes the reflection of the loved ones so recently lost. How? How could she see Merol looking back at her through Nihlus's stare?
"It's still hidden," they said at the same time. "They still keep it safe."
Nihlus stepped forward, lifting her off the ground into a tight embrace, his brow brushing gently against her temple the way Merol . . .. A grip of equal parts love and grief clamped around her chest, squeezing tight. She wrapped her arms around Nihlus's neck, turning her face into him, holding tight to a beloved mate who had never been hers.
"You dreamed it as well." she whispered. "You were Merol."
He nodded. "And you were Tashac. I can see her in your eyes, but how?"
Shepard eased back down to stand on her own feet, her hands reaching up to cradle his face. "I don't know. I heard rachni song. Maybe the queen?" She smiled, but it quickly melted away. The Citadel . . . Peduk's betrayal, the weight of her beautiful son dead in her arms . . . all of it still so real. "Were you there for all of it? Attit . . .."
"Yes. The last days of the war. The Citadel . . . Ilos . . . everything." He ran a hand over her hair, a sad sort of sigh accompanying the gesture. "Seems strange for you to have hair."
Shepard nodded, her hands slipping down to his chest, still unable to completely pull away from the bond she'd felt in the dream. The mates had shared a tie of such amazing strength . . . a love and trust like she couldn't have even imagined existed. Gone but for what lived inside her head and Nihlus's. "And two eyes. God, it felt like . . .."
". . . an entire lifetime," he finished.
She saw the dream pull back, Nihlus's gaze shuttering as Garrus shifted on the bed, a reminder to them both that Tashac and Merol, as real and immediate as they felt, had died somewhere far away, a very long time before.
Nihlus backed up a couple of steps, releasing her, and looked over her head to nod at Garrus. "Sorry for the rude awakening."
Shepard glanced over her shoulder as she said, "I'd already stumbled around enough to wake the dead."
"What happened?" Garrus asked, swinging out from under the blankets. He stood, walking a couple of steps toward them, looking so awkward and confused that it pulled Shepard the rest of the way out of the dream.
Oh god, she'd been climbing all over Nihlus. She backed away from the Spectre and reached out to take Garrus's hand in hers. "I think the rachni queen helped Nihlus and I sort out the information we got from the beacon and the cipher. We shared a dream of the last days of the Prothean-Reaper war." Looking back at Nihlus, a wide smile spread across her face. "I'll explain it all to you later, but most importantly . . . we know what the Conduit is and where to find it."
Tapek Menru - Literal translation: The long defeat. The calendar was started from the date the Citadel was captured by the Reapers but not officially named until the 1500 Tapek Menru. On that date, Prothean leaders claimed the war a stalling action designed to buy scientists time to find a way for the Prothean Empire to both survive the war and send aid forward into the next extinction. This calendar is measured in days.
Cepra - A large insect (8-10 cm in length) native to the world upon which the Prothean people originated. It's sting was so painful and venomous, death by cepra-sting was a form of execution reserved for traitors.
Setix - Prothean unit of time equivalent to referencing an hour. A day is comprised of 36 setixs broken into six sub-units.
Haksaya kubenar - A term of endearment, literally translates as my strong, true heart.
Cikabeknai - The reciprocal term of endearment for the above. Literally translates to brave love.
Kepala - The ridges of carapace that cover the top of a Prothean's head.
Kirash Par - New cycle or new life. Time of year for rebirth and renewal. It also denotes the calendar for the 50000 cycle period following the long defeat.
Elder Element - Also referred to as elderment. The Prothean common name for element zero. It was considered magical in their ancient times because it "sang" to their perception through touch.