Jennic: (Jennix plural): Tree dwelling, heavily fur-covered marsupial analogues native to Thessia. They are solitary creatures that travel hundreds of kilometres to mate, finding one another through loud, eerie howls. In asari lore, the howls were long believed to belong to the souls of deceased lovers calling out to one another from beyond the Veil of Tears.''
Ceraya: The folds of skin and tissue that protect prothean female's four small, independent uteri located in the mid to lower back, about a hand's width to either side of the spine. (Yes, TMI)
37 Days ASR
Neither of them knew who came up with the idea to willfully separate their memories and pull forward some from Tashac and Merol as well; flood the computer with as much data as they could. As soon as the plan appeared, just as they turned their attention to the walls they'd created to keep the prothean imprints at bay, the current swept their feet out from under them.
…
Shepard turned away from Anderson, letting out a tiny sigh as the elevator door to the wards access opened. Of course the computer would flag her death. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. It worked to their advantage if the computer really was having difficulty processing their data. She could let it play out. She didn't consciously remember most of it, anyway, and seeing it might just allow her to recognize the next attempt.
Outside the elevator, Garrus leaned against the alley wall as if he'd been waiting there forever rather than a few seconds. Damn, he looked good, and she grinned as a delicious, truly unsubtle heat blossomed deep in her belly. Her eyes locked onto his mouth, remembering the passion with which he'd kissed her, always so tempered by his patience, but there and strong.
He pushed off the wall and held up a liquor store bag, showing it off like a game show assistant. "I got the good stuff for Tali. So filtered, it doesn't even know if it's alcohol any more."
Still wearing a smile far too wide to look anything but idiotic, she stepped out and slipped her arm through his offered elbow. "Excellent. Now we have the makings of a first rate party." He tugged his arm free to wrap it around her, pulling her in tight against him.
Shepard glanced up as the elevator at the end of the hallway opened, a few civilians stepping out. Her heart began to beat hard and fast at the base of her throat, but she simply leaned into her boyfriend's side and eased her arm around his waist. Boyfriend … damn, she liked the sound of that. She gave his thigh an affectionate little bump with her hip. "Relax, Brother C-Sec. I've got you."
His mandibles fluttered a little. "Yeah, I guess you do." He bent to nuzzle her temple. "You okay?"
Her smile turned sad, but she forced her lips to do their best to reassure him. "Yeah, I am now." Consoling herself a little with the sound of his voice, she let herself enjoy that warmth fluttering in her belly. Her heart belonged to him, and just as he'd said it would, her body ached to follow. "You know, Garrus, something just occurred to me," she said, lowering her voice to a husky whisper.
His brow plates arched, and he pulled her tighter against his side. Leaning down, he whispered back, "What's that?"
She hesitated and glanced behind them to see Nihlus watching her even as he and Anderson discussed whether Udina should be assigned bodyguards. She shook her head to warn him to separate himself from the memory. Trying to overload the system offered them only a slim chance, but better a slim chance than just letting the machine turn them into thoroughly analyzed paste.
As she looked back into Garrus's eyes, her smile returned, still sad but radiating love. "After today, you aren't really on my crew any more." She purred a little, deep in her throat, letting herself feel that promise … what would have happened if they'd made it back to the Normandy. The sweet anticipation of his gentle hands and breath-stealing passion. "You know what that means, don't you?"
He made a show of thinking about it, his mandibles and brow plates working comically. "Um . . . I never have to suffer through you driving the Mako again?"
Delight coloured her startled laugh. "You're such a poop!" She nudged him with her elbow. "Okay, I'll give you that one, but it also exempts you from my 'never with my crew' rule."
His response came out only as a rumble in his throat that cut straight through her, making her skin lift in gooseflesh. A shy smile brought her eyes back up to the civilians. Most of them passed her by without any notice. One man looked at her … no, nothing so innocent. He was a missile locked onto a target.
She turned in her torin's arm to look up into his eyes. "Garrus … " No. No, it was too soon. So many things had gone unsaid because she'd buried herself in too much fear to trust his great spirit. Heart pounding, each beat wringing it out like an old sponge, she spun to face him. Reaching up with one hand, she pressed it against his cheek. It might not be real, but maybe, somehow, he might feel her right the wrong she'd done him if she could just say it. "... I love you. I want you to know that." Tears burst free, pooling along her lashes as fear rolled in, intractable and heavy. "You're going to be okay."
The man bumped into her, his arm inside her sling—
"I'm so sorry." She held her breath, clinging tight to her boyfriend's bewildered stare, wishing those eyes to be the last thing she saw.
…(concurrent)...
The endless dance twirled above her, a billion candles amongst the black shining light and warmth down on the children of the new cycle. Tashac sat on the top step, her toes cool and wet in the soft grass, wood hewn by Merol's talented hands still warm under her backside despite the sun long having abandoned them. She folded down, bracing her elbows on her knees, then resting her kepala in her hands.
My beautiful children, I miss you more with every passing day. I miss the sound of never-to-be grandchildren and mates filling the house. Sometimes, I can hear you all as if you are a room away, and my heart breaks anew as I recall lying you out and releasing you. Antecessors, if you heed only one plea from this old, broken soldier, allow me the chance to rest in their light once the darkness of this life is finished with me.
All the children and mates, mothers and fathers yet to be born, forgive me.
The Voice broke through her prayer, dragging her toward the mountain until it took all her remaining energy to resist that call. Not even meditation pushed the darkness back any longer. As endless as the movement of the stars, the chorus of the Reapers' conflux chanted, a constant echo in the back of her mind, drowning out memory and joy and love.
It spoke of endless things, its multitudes of minds all talking, answering, debating, and somehow always finding consensus. It discussed breaking free of the Masters' Calling, of preparing for the next Harvest, and always … always the mad obsession with the Question. They never spoke it, but she knew it traced its origin all the way back to Harbinger. That sterile, pitiless intelligence had been the first created, the first to ask, even before it broke free, building a body for its massive mind. It had thought a body might answer the question, but harvesting the race of its masters and creators had provided only form, not substance.
Never substance. Millions upon millions of cycles, never substance. Never the Answer.
Sometimes, she wondered if Harbinger even remembered the question. Other times it seemed as though insanity sang, shrill and harsh through the conflux, thousands of giant, complex minds all driven mad by the question. She suspected the latter to be true, to have searched so long, repeating the same pattern over and over without ever discovering what it wanted to know. That would drive anyone … or anything mad.
And now, her entire galaxy had been swallowed by that madness. Her children … bitter tears fell as their faces appeared. Seven beautiful, strong lives wasted before they even learned the joy of mates and babies, of lives spent fulfilling passions rather than wallowing in blood and despair.
Merol's slow footsteps on the terrace reached out to pull her back from the abyss. She traced his progress as he crossed the planks and stepped down the three stairs to sit by her side. He didn't touch her as he would have five cycles before. Back before the darkness made her anxious and afraid, he would have sat down and wrapped her tight in against his side. Oh, how she mourned for those days. He remained her heart, the good cool air in her lungs, but sometimes it wasn't her that responded to his presence, but rather the infestation at her center.
One night, he tried to wake her from a nightmare, but it hadn't been her who woke. When she surfaced, she'd found him slumped against the nest, bleeding and unconscious. The memory coaxed a moan, low and desolate, from her throat, as if she answered the lonely howls of the jennic echoing up from the forest below. That day, her beautiful mate stopped touching her before ensuring that he faced the mother of his last children rather than the monster.
"What are you doing within the mountain, haksaya kubenar?" Merol asked, his voice pitched low and soothing.
Tashac let out a soft sigh. The same question every night, and every night she possessed no answer to satisfy him. The monster worked within the mountain, granting her only momentary glimpses of freedom when it needed the chiastyllia ordered about. For all their strength to subjugate minds and enslave souls … for all the cataclysmic power of their will, the Reapers possessed no ability to command the tiny beings they'd corrupted. She found that irony delicious and sweet, ripe with the smallest of justices.
Every night, she tried to tell her mate what little she knew, but Sovereign never allowed it.
Instead, she leaned against his side. "I am so very weary, my heart." She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. "So very ready for an end." Rubbing the edge of her kepala along his, she let out a long breath. "I remain sure of so little, but you hold me fast."
A soft, musical sigh wrapped around them. "I'm no longer certain if that is a good thing." Merol pulled free of her arms, stood, and climbed the stairs.
"Cikabeknai? Please do not leave me." Tashac turned, a soft whimper of relief dragging from her throat when she saw her beloved was simply moving to sit on the step behind her. Letting out a ragged, desolate sigh, she closed her eyes, trying to calm the sudden, frantic terror. Of course he hadn't walked away. The father of her last children, her mate of more than sixty cycles, would never just walk away.
"Do you know what I hold onto, my love?" Merol whispered, his arms so very tight and warm around her. Tashac merely leaned back into him and tipped her head. No.
It shamed her, but no, she no longer knew her love's soul the way she once had. As that realization blossomed within her, it pushed back the darkness ever so slightly. Her eyes … all this time, her eyes had been focused in the wrong direction, seeking to fight the darkness by looking within. Oh, such a fool. Had there ever been a greater fool? Of course, the darkness grew, feasting upon her selfishness.
"What do you hold onto, Merol?" She twisted to look up into the glittering gold of his eyes.
Brushing her kepala with his own, he smiled and said, "I remember Giran's birth. Do you remember that?" He chuckled and pressed his cheek against her neck. "I believe it angered her that I helped ease Attit into the air before her. The birth-matrons had never seen the like of those little hands pushing from you, Giran pulling herself free from your folds." He sighed and nuzzled the sensitive spot along the edge of her kepala where it plunged down toward her neck. "You always said, protheans were born fighting."
His eyes glistened. " I have spent more than sixty cycles at your side, the only place I can imagine finding happiness. I eased five lives from the care of your body into this galaxy, watched Lulyak deliver two more. Raised seven, beautiful children … loved them all as my own. Each one of them grew up fighting and died fighting, but because of you, they knew more than battle. They knew hope and how to cherish joy wherever they could find it. You taught them to fight for a better life, not just to kill the enemy."
"I have forgotten … allowed the darkness to steal far too much from my mind and heart." Tashac let out a soft sigh, her entire being relaxing into his hands as he stroked her neck and shoulders, thumbs dragging along the ridge of ligaments tying her shoulder into her neck and back. "I have always hated those antecessor-cursed statues on Ilos, their heads cast down, spines dragging so low. An entire race's defeat carved into stone … how my spirit railed against them. And now my spirit bears that same shape."
Merol's hands slipped lower, following the line of her spine. "I know that the Vanguard eats away at you, beautiful mother of my last children. Does it hurt you to fight it? Have you truly reached the end of your strength?" He hesitated, caressing just above her proximal ceraya.
Tashac leaned forward, rounding her back, encouraging the contact. She tipped her head a little as her muscles began to relax, her mate's touch prompting an instinct as old as her people. "That is what you meant?" she asked, seeing his heart as clearly as her own. He worried that he truly was all that kept her going, her heart defeated.
… (concurrent)...
Nihlus rubbed Shepard's back as she choked, his mandibles giving a hard flick as he said, "Actually, Captain, I'm not her boyfriend, I'm just in love with her. Well, and we were bond-mates in prothean memories that the beacons stuffed into our heads … had two kids … spent a lifetime together."
Anderson's continually morphing expression gave Nihlus a strange satisfaction. Sort of the way he imagined it must feel to show up at the parent's domin after sneaking off to bond in secret. Anderson pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to Shepard, his laser drill stare boring straight into Nihlus. The intensity just increased Nihlus's amusement.
"Prothean bond-mates? Had two kids?" The captain shook his head. "That one is going to take a little explaining."
Shepard drew Nihlus's attention, wheezing a little before blowing her nose. Giving him a scowl that hit harder than a guided missile, she stomped on his foot. Blithely ignoring the threat in her stare, and the pounding ache in his foot, Nihlus just patted her back while she leaned on her knee, trying to catch her breath.
"No," Shepard said, the word a sharp bark aimed at Anderson. Nihlus grinned as he watched the teasing war of wills playing out around him. "Get those thoughts out of your head, sir. You don't get to pull your, 'Son, come help me decide which shotgun to take on this mission' stunts anymore. I'm not an eighteen year old cadet."
The elevator ground to a halt, the door letting out a sharp ding as they arrived at the alley to the wards. Nihlus's heart crashed as reality registered, all his amusement dying in a landslide of dread. How many times had he watched those exact minutes play over and over on his omnitool? How many times had he watched his moment come and go, Shepard's blood splashing across Garrus's face, painting the other torin's silhouette on the wall?
Anderson's warm laugh buffeted the Spectre's cocoon of misery, the laugh of a father proud to have protected his daughter so well. "You've got to admit, having the suitors help me choose my weapons got you a lot of extra study time."
Shepard stepped from the carriage, her entire posture changing the moment she saw Garrus. Nihlus let out a long breath composed of yearning, regret, and a gentle sort of gladness. He'd messed up … messed up … yeah, if that wasn't the understatement of all time … and Garrus had been there to support her, to be her partner and shoulder to lean on, the way Nihlus should have been. He envied the other torin the way Shepard began to glow the moment she entered Garrus's gravity. Despite her saying that they were fine … that she didn't regret their hard beginning, Nihlus feared he'd never bring that instant, easy smile to her face.
Shepard slipped in against Garrus's side and the pair led the way down the corridor.
Nihlus looked down the deserted alley, his emotions ripping him apart like two preteril fighting over a soluvermus. He chuffed softly, earning a raised eyebrow from Anderson, but didn't look toward the captain. Any second the door at the other end of the alley would open and five people would get out. All of them would seem harmless. He'd watch them without really paying any attention, his concentration on Anderson's continued disbelief that Shepard chose Udina to become humanity's council member. Halfway down the alley, the completely unremarkable human would appear to stumble and then catch himself on Shepard's bad arm.
Hand reaching for his shotgun even before he saw the man's weapon, Nihlus would open his mouth to call out a warning. And then the moment would be gone, taking Shepard with it.
The Spectre clenched his teeth and pulled his neck back, setting his shoulders. "Not this time." Anderson turned to look at Nihlus, the captain's hand moving to his sidearm without a second's hesitation.
The door opened, the civilians stepped out. A fierce, indignant sort of rage greeted the human as he appeared. How dare he steal Shepard from the galaxy? Did he even really know who he was murdering? Did he care?
Fury pulled Nihlus's mandibles back, locking them in a sneer. It didn't matter. At last he had a chance to do what he'd dreamed so many times. The man lingered behind the others, letting them get ahead three then four metres, enough to have them clear, but not enough to draw attention to himself. Heart freezing solid, everything disappearing into smoke but his anger and a sharp laser focus, Nihlus let the man close.
"Not her. Not this time." It might not give him or his fratrin the last two cycles back. It might not change the reality of Shepard having to find herself back in a body and a life two years dead. It might not stop the nightmares and it might not close the hole in his gut that howled endlessly.
But it couldn't hurt to try.
He watched Shepard jump a little and laugh at something Garrus said. He'd always wondered what his fratrin had teased her about, but respected Garrus's grief too much to prod him for the details.
Fifteen metres. Ten. The world slowed down around him, allowing a clarity of sight that even watching the vid hadn't allowed. He could see it all … the way the human hesitated, looking interested in something on the floor to allow the other pedestrians to gain more clearance … the subtle movements and signals that told him unspoken promises had been made between Shepard and Garrus … the way Anderson moved in sync with him, demonstrating the veteran captain's absolute trust in a fellow soldier's instincts.
Nihlus's heart dropped back into place, its rhythm calming to just slower than normal, blood carrying resolution to steady his hands and power his legs. His breathing slowed and deepened. Spectre Kryik present, accounted for, and locked on target. Opting for the accuracy of his sidearm instead of his previous choice of shotgun, he drew in a long breath and shouted, "Garrus! Cover Shepard!"
Garrus reacted instantly, grabbing Shepard and curling around her, spinning to put his body between the civilians and his girlfriend. Bearing her to the floor, he shoved her in against the wall, as Nihlus and Anderson strode forward, guns lifting and opening fire. The assassin went for his weapon, but too late, his head disintegrating into a spatter of blood, and bone, and hair.
Nihlus staggered to a stop, the muzzle of his gun dropping toward the floor. For a split second, his pulse pounded in his ears, but then he let out a long, harsh cry of tangled victory and mourning. He'd done it. Finally. He sank to his knees on the floor, all the anger and self-incrimination and even sorrow draining away. He'd done it. He'd saved her, and more importantly, he'd seen that without foreknowledge, she could never have been saved.
"Nihlus?" Shepard crouched next to him, her arm draped around his neck. Lowering herself to kneel, knees pressed against his thigh, she let out a long sigh. "Did you see it?" She leaned in to rest her brow against the side of his head.
Nodding, he whispered, his voice scarcely louder than her breath, "It always had to happen."
"Yeah." She pressed her lips against his hide. "And it really is okay. Not perfect. Not the direction I would have wished for my life, but okay."
… (concurrent) ...
Merol rejoiced at the light and hope that burst through his mate. He truly had feared her finished, and he stood such a very long distance from being ready to lose her. Even though he might be an old prothean, and as such, having been gifted so very much more than all his contemporaries … . Well, no one remained to call him selfish for holding onto a few extra cycles with his love.
Sliding his hands down her spine, he let his thumbs caress her ceraya, smiling as she relaxed, and opened her mind and heart to him. Most of their adult lives, they'd just had to brush fingers to know everything the other felt. No secrets. Nothing hidden between them. Sovereign hid so much of her away that he no longer even dared touch her before speaking. Ah, the irony of being the indoctrination-free mate when he toyed with Reaper technology his entire adult life, and Tashac destroyed it.
How bitter that draught spread across his tongue and through his soul. Even as his mate opened to him, allowing her entire being to show, he could see the darkness, a singularity at her center. It consumed her in tiny bites, nibbling away at everything strong, at the beauty that had stolen his heart the moment he laid eyes on her.
Nearly sixty-five cycles lie between the dusk that streaked the sky above him and the bright, golden morning when the manager of the military science facility escorted the new head of security into Merol's lab. Mouth hanging open, he'd stared, never having seen anyone to equal the sheer presence of Junior Captain Tashac Jacar. As was proper and respectful, Tashac had bowed her head to him when the facility manager introduced them.
For his part, he could only blame some intrinsic force of the universe for his fingers reaching out to skate along her arm. Surely, without the interference of universal-level forces, he would never initiate such familiar and disrespectful contact, especially with someone who could kill him fifteen ways using just one hand. No, powerful cosmic forces—the same that coaxed the stars to dance—had whispered in his aural receptors, enthralling him with the notion of finding out if what lie at Tashac's heart matched the magnificence of her surface.
"Were you disappointed?" Tashac asked, teasing a little as she wriggled further onto her stair. She leaned into him, her back brushing his belly with every movement. Silken thoughts caressed his, cool and diaphanous but also gaining strength, resilient. Sweet and rich, but piquant with spice, her emotions swelled to defy the darkness, calling to him with that same music that had ensorcelled his fingers all those cycles before.
"Not a single moment," he replied, even knowing he didn't need to. Looking up at the brilliantly painted sky, he let out a long sigh of contentment and held his mate in the circle of his arms. The whispered song of the wind pushed the eerie silence of the mountain up the slope, allowing peace to envelope them.
"No," Tashac said at last. She turned to look into his eyes. The brilliant violet glinted with some of her old joy and spirit. "No, it doesn't hurt, my love. Fighting their darkness is fuel, not defeat. As are you, and the memory of my children." Jutting her chin out a little, she smiled and said, "Make room for me on the top stair?"
Merol returned her smile, his body warming to the heat in her thoughts. He slid back, watching as she stood and slipped off her robe. She hung it over the railing and climbed up, sitting between his thighs. Twisting to face him, she caressed the ridge of his kepala with her own, eyes closing as their love and ardor fed into one another, mingling and growing.
When she turned her back to him and curled down over her knees, he folded around her, feeling truly connected to his mate for the first time in cycles.
Later, when they retired to their nest, and she slept, he resolved to find a way into the mountain. During their joining, he'd caught glimpses of the work going on within those tunnels and caves. The Vanguard would never allow Tashac to destroy what they built, but he … he could be sure that they never fulfilled their purpose.
And in her sleep, Tashac screamed.
...
The world inside their heads shifted, a boot stuck in mud wriggling ever so slightly to create a thin pocket of air around it. The computer remained silent, but Nihlus felt the claws digging into him loosen. If changing their dreams to add emotions missing from the real experience and events loosened its hold, what would the machine do with hope? Did he have enough freedom under their microscope to bring in wishes for the future … dreams rather than memories?
… (nearly concurrent) ...
"Mmmm, that was lovely." Shepard let out a long, happy-sounding sigh, her expression one of languid contentment. She grinned as she stretched, a trill of pleasure rolling deep in her throat.
Nihlus waited, a slow smile spreading his mandibles as the silence dragged on from seconds to a minute. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he saw blank slate of satiation and pleasure overwritten, replaced by concerns that slowly piled up until she rolled over to face him.
"I'm up early to take that band of newbies on live fire maneuvers and then home late-ish tomorrow night." Shepard winced when he laughed, then sighed and chuckled. Sliding her leg over his, she curled in tight against his side. "Ugh, I didn't even last five minutes, did I? I thought you were supposed to smack me if I started doing the whole human day-planner thing within an hour of orgasm." She lifted herself up on her elbow and kissed him. "Sorry."
"Spanking is more foreplay than punishment, isn't it?" He grinned and relaxed down into his pillows, savouring the weight of the arm thrown over his keel, her heat warming his side. "Go ahead, plan our days, I don't mind. I know you're just freaking out because both Izzy and Terrus are heading to school in the morning." Opening one eye at the soft, almost keening sound she made at the mention of their youngest going out into the big galaxy of growing up, he grinned and lifted his head to nuzzle her lips. "You'll be fine. They're both still your babies. And to answer what you haven't asked, I'm home tomorrow, so I can get the kids off to school and pick them up."
She kissed him again and draped over him, her head on his shoulder. "Garrus is heading to the Citadel. He's staying overnight, but he doesn't leave for the spaceport until nearly midday." She lifted up just high enough to look down into his eyes. "How about we all get up a half hour early so we can have breakfast together? I'll bring home supper, and afterward, you and I can take the kids down to the park and run them around. Then we can just curl up in bed and watch a vid or something once they pass out."
He nuzzled her lips and leaned in to touch brows. "Sounds perfect. However, the day after tomorrow, you and Garrus are going to have to organize yourselves because I've actually got to go do some work … take out some bad guys … enforce galactic justice, etc."
Shepard looked down at him, her expression loving, but serious and thoughtful. "You know, Garrus and I don't always express it the way we should, but we couldn't make this whole thing work without you. Thank you for sticking close to home. I know you could be out taking a lot more missions."
A long breath trickled from Nihlus's throat as he shook his head. "I don't want that life anymore, Jane." He rolled, over, pressing her back into the mattress, and leaned over her. "I don't feel like I'm missing out." He kissed her. "Quite the opposite. You, me, Garrus, our kids … this is what I want. This is what we fought the damned Reapers to have." Nuzzling his face into her neck, he stroked her side with his other hand, then smacked her hip. "Now, go take a shower and get to bed."
Shepard sighed and flopped. "I don't want to. It's warm here, and the caman will have burned down."
He chuckled softly and nuzzled her lips. "I heard Garrus banking it a few minutes ago. The domin will be warm. Get yourself to bed, mother of both my children, otherwise you aren't going to be up in time for my pancakes."
Shepard closed her eyes and let out a soft, decadent moan. "I do love your pancakes." She moved beneath him, her smile telling him that she was just savouring the sensation of her skin sliding against his plates and hide.
He watched her, his entire body resonating with a love that deepened and grew richer with time. Snagging her wrist in his talons, he lifted it to his mouth, nuzzling the delicate skin and the two opalescent chains wrapped around it. His bond-mate, mother of his children … more than a decade of good times and bad lie between them and wrapped them in the comfort of all the promises they'd made … and mostly kept.
He felt her watching him and smiled, nuzzling the tokens of their bonding.
"Do you ever regret it?" she asked, her voice a bare whisper.
"Regret what, haksaya kubenar?" He lifted off her when she tried to sit up. Legs tangled, bare skin pressed against hide, hands intertwined, they sat facing one another. Eyes tracing every feature, he waited for her to answer.
"All of it? Any of it?" She reached up and caressed his face. "You used to regret so much."
Nodding, he let out a soft sigh. "Not any more. You were right. Life's too short, and I like where I am … who I am. Without all the stupidity and the fights and the awkward bits, we … I … might never have found my way here." It was true. Somewhere along the line, he'd just let go of the past and its baggage in favour of living.
She pulled against his hands, lifting up to kneel between his thighs. "I love who you are. Always have, but this torin … " Kissing him, she whispered against his mouth. "... he just keeps getting better. I love you, Spectre Nihlus Kryik." Chuckling, she swung over his leg and off the bed. "And I need to have a shower. Sleep well, cikabeknai."
Nihlus flopped over onto his pillows and pulled the blankets up to his chest. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sound of the shower, his mate splashing as she bathed, then the soft murmur of conversation from the other room. No, he regretted noth—
For the barest of moments, not long enough for his heart to beat or his lungs to take a breath, Nihlus knew his mind was free. Then something slammed into him. A skybus? A small frigate, maybe? The tube of amber chia shattered, the world exploding into pain, motion, sound, and blinding light.
He'd been blown up enough to recognize the sensations, as well as the impact of floor meeting bone and plate even through his armour. Taking the worst of the hit, his pelvis was the first to cozy up to the complaints desk and start the paperwork. Tumbling around him a little, the world drifted back into focus, vision and comprehension reasserting themselves.
They were free, but how?
Groaning, he shoved himself up off the cavern floor and took in the dead, black chunks of chia strewn everywhere; the machine encased in a glistening, diamond shell; and the smoking remains of the cylinder that had held them trapped. "Shepard?" His voice came out cracked and barely audible. Pushing up until he could sit without being buttressed by an arm, he lifted a hand to his head. "Jane? Are you okay?"
A long groan answered him, then a soft curse. A handful of metres across the room, Shepard rolled over onto her side and dug an elbow into the floor, using it to wedge herself into a semi-upright position. "Yeah, I'll live," she answered at last. "Nice thinking there, Spectre." Lifting her head to meet his gaze, she gave him a weary grin. "How are you doing?"
A slow smile spread his mandibles. "I'm okay." And he was. Yes, he still felt weak, and he hurt nearly everywhere, but inside him, in that place he never allowed himself to examine too closely, the hole didn't yawn so deep or so hungry. He shifted around so he was sitting cross-legged. "I suppose this is when the Collectors beat down the door and attack." He glanced toward the doors, checking to make sure they were all shut. They were … and still locked down. But … uncorrupted chia encased the machine. How had they gotten in?
Shepard rolled over onto all fours and crawled over to sit on her heels in front of him. "Yeah, this is definitely the part of the adventure when the Collectors swarm in, and we have to shoot our way out, but first … ." She lifted up onto her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. "First, I get to hug the ever-living-crap out of you." She kissed his cheek. "Thank you."
Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered, "And you." He chuckled then nuzzled her ear, the skin like velvet against his plates. "It's strange, but both sets of memories feel real. I prefer the new set."
Leaning back a little, she stared into his eyes, her expression an odd mixture of joy and sadness, love and regret. "So do I. Thank you, Nihlus. Thank you for taking such good care of me." She kissed him softly, but he felt every emotion, the depth of the gratitude and love that underpinned it.
Shepard knew him as well as he knew himself now, and instead of being horrified and disgusted by all the weak places, all the dark spots and self-destructive anger, she offered only acceptance. He'd always thought that if someone saw the real Nihlus that they'd detest him for how truly ugly a picture it was. Then along came that bright, beautiful light. She saw into every corner, and all he'd felt from her was love, even after the darkness had lashed out and hurt her so badly.
The kiss ended far too soon. His mouth followed her lips as she sniffed and swiped at her face, pulling away from his embrace. "Okay, enough of the mushy stuff." She caressed his cheek. "Come on, old guy, we're still buried under a Reaper and Collector infested mountain, trapped in with a machine built to answer a question that only the Reapers seem to know." She heaved herself up off the floor and stretched, her joints popping loud enough to make him wince.
Nihlus chuckled. "You sound like the old guy with all the creaking and popping." When she offered a hand to help him up, he took it but didn't move to stand. "The machine has been taking people apart for at least fifty thousand cycles, but from the sound of it, for a lot longer than that in different forms." He stared at their joined hands without really seeing them, his thoughts holding his complete attention as they raced. "Although I'm sure they need the biological and cognitive data for some nefarious purpose, like turning the asari into those creatures, the question is wrapped up in the rest of the data."
He looked up, meeting her eyes. "I think I know what the question is," Nihlus said. He gathered his feet under him and shoved himself up off the stone floor, a crooked grin greeting the creaking and popping of his joints. Up and balanced, he stared into Shepard's eyes, his mandibles betraying the war between elation and terror raging in his gut. "They aren't asking if they have a soul like the geth did."
Her nod told him that she'd already considered that possibility.
As he turned to face the machine, gravity took hold, reminding him of his damaged places, and he slumped a little, his whole body leaning toward his bad hip. "No, they've been taking us apart for millions of cycles, dissecting the one part of us they can't comprehend, because they're trying to find their missing piece. Harbinger's question was ... why was I created incomplete? Why don't I have a soul?"
He blinked and swallowed, dread swelling within his heart until it felt as though it took up his entire chest cavity, pressing out against his ribs and threatening to explode out through his keel. If his guess was right, the implications were quite literally unimaginable. Could such a question ever be answered? And how much would the Reapers destroy and consume in their madness?
"And I think Tashac was right," he continued, needing to get it all out, for Shepard to hear it and dismiss it as impossible. "After millions of cycles, trying to answer Harbinger's question has driven them insane."
(A-N: And now back to our regularly scheduled Shepard and Nihlus. :D These two just ... . Yeah. When it got to the Nihlus dreaming about the future, I just said ... whatever, dude, the sky's the limit. Bring it. And the big dream was family. And it included Garrus. He kills me. He just kills me.
As for the Reapers, the whole we created an AI to kill all organics and synthetics to stop organics and synthetics from killing one another thing just didn't work for me, so I've created my own lore as to their reasons and their relationship to the Leviathans ... and I hope it at least makes sense in the end. Got a ways to go before that though. Lots to reveal and discover as they move on. And then again, maybe Nihlus is just plain wrong. Hahahahahaha.
Thanks as always. :D *glomping hugs of doooom* )