HOLOCAUST
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:
SUCH IS THE LOSS OF LIFE
June 19, 2186
1628 hours.
UT-47A Stealth Kodiak Shuttle, In Orbit over Noveria, Pax System, Horsehead Nebula. Moving to dock with SSV Normandy.
The Reaper War, Battle of Noveria.
Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Soldier Javik, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Second Lieutenant James Vega, EDI.
The ride back to the Normandy, Marcus decided, was far more painful than that of his injured side.
There was complete silence in the cabin as they all stood, respectful in their silence or mourning inwardly. Marcus still lay with his back against the shuttle hatch, sitting on the floor as he blankly looked ahead of him. So close they had come to being in the clear, and then it all came crashing down on them.
Jacob Taylor, the man who he had met on Lazarus Station a year ago, the man who was good at heart, the man who worked with an organization he despised but eventually left and the same man who helped him tackle the Collectors in their home. The same man who came for him when Kenson captured him on Project Base. The same man...who's fiance was now about to grieve alot more than he would.
Jacob Taylor, that man he respected, was dead. Murdered right infront of him by a man he despised more than anything. More than the batarians. More than any volus. More than any rapist, child molester or politician. He wanted Leng dead in numerous ways; decapitation, castration, mutilation, torture, suffocation, asphyxiation. So many ways he wanted that bastard to die, for ruining what could have been.
Jacob was, had been, a family man. He could have been married for the first time in his life. Could have had a child, a son or daughter. Would have known the beauty of fatherhood. A beauty even Marcus hadn't experienced yet. He could have been something so much more, and in that instant, Leng had snuffed that out. Ended it all. Silenced its life.
And for that, Leng had to die.
So Marcus wasn't mourning for Jacob. No, he had done that already. Tarquin's death had helped him prepare for what would happen. Helped him prepare for the horrors of losing a friend. Grunt's attempted sacrifice brought him on the presipice of collapse, but his survival kept him going. And then Jacob died, and Marcus realized there would be no miracle return. He was gone, permanently. Never to return. Noone would resurrect him.
So Marcus didn't mourn.
He plotted revenge.
Noone at this point knew how he did it. How he caged in the loss. How he used it as fuel to continue. How he managed to not shed a single tear. How he was incorruptible. Unbeatable. Like he was a wall that couldn't breached, and only cracks could be formed, but it never actually blew. He just kept going. He just shut his emotions down as a way to cope. And that gave way to darker thoughts. For Garrus, it only made him wonder what would happen if Tali died. How would he feel then?
Garrus had a feeling that would be the final blow to send the wall shattering, and for the proverbial dam to come flowing through.
"We're coming into dock," Cortez spoke, loud enough to be heard, but low enough so he wasn't yelling, trying not to break the silence, as if out of fear of being disrespectful, "Sir...the scientists are waiting. Brynn Cole's...infront of them."
Garrus immediately turned to Marcus, but he barely flinched. This worried the turian, as after Marcus' breakdown upon the hatch, after which he thought the man would cry, he simply became a stoic statue, unmoving, barely flinching and for a second, he thought the man had stopped breathing, he was that quiet. He just blankly stared at the wall before him, ignoring Cortez's words.
"Sir?" the pilot spoke again, but Marcus still didn't speak. Didn't move. It was starting to irritate Garrus; they had all suffered from Jacob's loss, even himself, who had fired so unprofessionally at Leng, but that didn't give Marcus the right to shut them out! Damn it, would he be so quiet if Tali was here? Damn him!
Garrus, being Marcus' XO, immediately spoke, replying to Cortez, "Bring us into dock Cortez. I...I'll break it to Cole."
Cortez responded solemnly and respectfully, "Yes...Yes, Mr. Vakarian. Bringing us in now."
Garrus nodded, rubbing the back of his helmet as he turned back to Marcus, only to almost jump back.
Marcus stared right at him, eyes narrowed at him. It wasn't a glare, but it didn't look particular friendly either. After a minute though, he looked down at the ground, nodding ever so slightly, before grunting as he moved to pick himself up, coming to stand tall.
"No you won't," he finally spoke, and he swore the room was ice cold from surprise at the man's sudden break of silence, "I will."
"Come on loco," James spoke, coming to stand beside Garrus, nodding to the turian, "Let Vakarian do it. You've done enough."
Marcus turned to him, and his look was like frosted ice, "Enough isn't good enough. This is my responsibility."
"Marcus, stop doing this to yourself," the turian growled, having had enough, "Not everything is your spirits be damned fault! You're not alone in this, when will you realize this? You've got friends who will willingly drop everything to help you shoulder that burden. You think Tali gets special treatment on that? No! You're like a brother to me, Shepard! No Shepard without Vakarian! So why won't you let me help you; let us help you?"
Marcus turned to him, growling slightly, "You will stand down, Vakarian. I swore to Cole I'd keep her husband safe. I failed, and now Jacob is dead and rotting back on Noveria. We don't even have a body. I will tell her, and that's the end of it."
The shuttle came to land as Javik spoke, showing no sign of being moved by the events that had transpired, "You all stand here, weakened by this loss. You should be using it to fuel yourselves. It is a sign of weakness the Reapers will wield against you. They take power from your despair; despair is your enemy, and you must conquer it."
"Javik. Just for once," Marcus growled, grabbing the prothean by the collar, "Shut the fuck up." With that, he let go of him and turned away, the prothean showing no sign of being fazed by the human's movement as he moved towards the hatch, hitting the console and stepping out, stubbornly ignoring his injury as he stepped out...
...and right there, waiting, was Brynn Cole. And Marcus froze, unable to do it.
Garrus frowned, and saw the source of the problem.
Brynn Cole was smiling. She was happy to see they had returned, assuming Jacob was safe. And Marcus had seen that smile, and all strength left him. He was unable to do it. To shatter that relieved facade. To shatter her fantasy and introduce her back to the dark, horrible reality that her husband wasn't coming back. Her husband-to-be.
She heard a sob, and Garrus turned away, finding Kasumi leaning against the shuttle, another sob coming from under her hood. He saw a tear hit the steel floor, but in that moment, she looked up, met his eyes and immediately wiped her eyes, standing up and pretending nothing had happened. He sighed, turning away as his shoulders slumped, realizing just how hopeless the whole situation felt.
"Come on out Jacob!" Brynn called, seemingly oblivious to their looks of despair, "That gunshot wound has to be checked eventually!"
Wrex and Grunt silently moved past, not breathing a word, heads bowed down in a sign of respect. They kept clear of everyone, simply moving towards the edge of the bay and not turning back. Even Keeling seemed to be moved by the events in some way, her usually programmed movements more sloppy and lethargic, a slight glitch in her movements as she slowly moved away, removing her helmet, her usually stoic and cold features showing a sign of having been moved. Her rifle hung limply at her side and just like Wrex and Grunt, she did not turn around. James turned to him, obviously wanting to follow her, not wanting to see what was next. Garrus couldn't blame him. He nodded, and James saluted, moving away.
Cortez came out of the shuttle at that moment, stopping just as he cleared the hatch, and his eyes met Garrus'. The two of them shared a look and in that moment, Cortez knew what to do. He quickly and hastily returned to his station at the armoury, knowing that what had to be done had to be done, and that he shouldn't be around when it did.
"Well Jacob?" Brynn shouted again, hands on her hips, "Are you coming out, or what? It isn't nice to keep your soon-to-be wife waiting."
"Brynn..." Marcus quietly spoke, gulping, " ..."
Brynn stopped, her smile dying slightly, "Well Captain? Where is Jacob?"
He looked at her sadly, his cold ficade broken just by looking at her, "Jacob...we were leaving..."
A low sob escaped Brynn's lips, all of them watching her mouth shake as she grabbed onto her mouth, a tear escaping her eye as Marcus continued, "But then Leng...he came out of nowhere..."
"No..." she sobbed again.
"He got the jump," Marcus swallowed, sighing as he looked at the ground, refusing to look at her any longer, "Leng...he killed him. Right infront of me. I don't...I'm so sorry for your loss..."
They all watched Brynn stumble back, now openly weeping, two of the scientists behind her having to run up and grab her before she fell onto her back, her voice now wailing as she cried, tears streaming down her face, "He can't be gone...he promised..."
"You have my...condolences," he replied, simply standing there, still refusing to look at her.
Suddenly, Brynn came to stand, wiping the tears from her face and shoving a finger in Marcus' face, who finally looked up at her, "You...BASTARD! I trusted you with his life, and now he's dead! YOU...PIECE OF GARBAGE! YOU ASSHOLE! YOU MOTHER-" her string of curses continued, but when all she saw was his blank look, she shoved him backwards, and he stumbled slightly, Brynn panting lightly from her cursing.
And then she began to sob again, the reality hitting her all over again, bawling as her friends helped her to the ground.
When the silence crept up again, one of the scientists, a brown-haired male, moved over to Marcus, gulping, "This is a horrible day, possibly the worst day of the war, for us. Jacob's help was appreciated, and we will remember him and respect his memory by doing this: we hereby pledge our allegiance to the UGC, and will help you in your war against the Reapers."
"Thank you," Marcus practically mumbled, eying him carefully, "When we arrive at the Citadel, I'll contact Hackett to have him send a shuttle to pick you up and take you to the Crucible. From there, you can help us build it and tell us what you know about Cerberus," he turned to Garrus, "Garrus, you're in command. I...need some time to myself."
The turian widened his eyes, but before he got a word out, Marcus spun on the spot, wiping his nose as he moved away at an increased pace towards the elevator, not looking back. He saw Wrex, Grunt, James, Keeling and practically everyone else look back at the man as he stormed away, clearly shaken by his cold attitude.
Garrus shook his head, following after him, speaking to the scientist as he moved past, "Excuse me," he turned to EDI, "EDI, make sure these scientists get good accomodation. I'll be back."
Without so much as a reply, they immediately got to work, EDI giving the directions to the Crew's Quarters, all the while Garrus practically jogged over to Shepard, reaching him just as the elevator doors closed. He stood there for a moment, watching Marcus' blank eyes stare at the elevator door, ignoring him, pretending he wasn't there. And that, by itself, angered Garrus more than anything else the man had done.
"Look at me Marcus," the turian growled. When the human didn't comply, he grabbed his shoulders and threw him against the elevator wall, "LOOK AT ME!"
Marcus' eyes finally drifted to his, narrowing, "What is it, Garrus?"
"You know perfectly well what it is!" the turian snapped, "I told you that you shouldn't need to shoulder this burden all by yourself. And what did you do? You went out and told Brynn her husband was dead, and didn't even look her in the face! I could have handled that myself! You don't always have to be the one to take the bullet for the team, you stubborn idiot!"
"Jacob's death was on me," Marcus muttered in response, wheezing, "It wasn't your burden to shoulder."
"On you? Tali was right, you are a stubborn bosh'tet," he shook the man from side to side, "Are you awake? Do you listen to yourself? Jacob's death had nothing to do with you! Leng got the jump on us, appeared out of nowhere and you were injured! So unless you had some miracle up your sleeve and a tracker on Leng, there's nothing you could have done to stop that bastard! So stop that shit right now!"
"I should have done something about-"
"Enough! I said enough!" the turian persisted, ignoring his objections, "I won't suffer a word more of it! Now you're going to get to medical and Chakwas take a look at you, and you're going to stop this self-loathing bullshit because it had nothing to do with you! This was not Virmire! This was not you giving orders in the Collector Base! Leng attacked us without warning, and that is not your fault! So stop it! Do you understand that, Marcus? Because I'm done watching my brother tear himself apart over something he couldn't have stopped. Please, for your sake and mine, stop beating yourself up."
Without warning, the elevator stopped, and Garrus realized Marcus' thumb was on the halt button, and he turned towards the turian, sighing as a look of sadness entered his eyes; the first true emotion he had shown since Jacob's death.
"This is how I cope Garrus," the man stated, turning away as his hands landed on his hips, "Its how I coped with losing Ashley on Virmire, and its how I coped with losing Tarquin. It tells me that I could have saved them; that their deaths weren't inevitable. That it wasn't set in stone."
The turian sighed, "But blaming yourself won't help bring Jacob back. You know that."
"You think I don't know that?" he replied harshly, shaking his head, "You know what he was asking me before he died? He asked to join the Normandy again. Brynn and himself. Those were his last words to me, to anyone; that he wanted to join my crew. Do you know how much that hurts? That his last words were of what he was going to do, not wanting to do? Its...horrible..."
Garrus watched him move, the man backing up against the elevator wall, looking so defeated in that one moment, "He's gone, Garrus. He's truly gone."
He placed a hand on his shoulder, grasping it as he nodded, breathing heavily, "May he rest in peace, because he's earned it."
Marcus only nodded, closing his eyes, and shutting out the world around him.
After a moment, the turian reached out and hit the button for the Crew Deck, Marcus opening his eyes and turning to him, "You need to get patched up. I head up to the cockpit and tell...tell Joker what happened, in case EDI hasn't already."
He nodded and closed his eyes again, shutting out the world around him.
He had a feeling his nightmares would only get worse now.
Ashley had a friend to taunt him now.
{Loading...}
June 19, 2186
1650 hours.
'Humanity's Sanctum,' Upper Levels, Cronos Station, Anadius System.
The Reaper War.
The Illusive Man.
"Sir," Geoff spoke as he entered the room, greeting TIM as he always did before approaching him.
"Approach," TIM ordered, taking another sip of his whiskey before placing it down on the arm next to him. He waited until Geoff stood directly behind him before speaking, "What do you have to report?"
"The end of mission report for Operation: Polar Fire," Geoff stated.
TIM nodded, taking a puff of his cigarette as he waited, "Proceed."
Geoff noticably gulped, and TIM knew instantly that he wouldn't like it, "Well sir, it appears Polar Fire was largely a failure. The Third Fleet was totally annihilated, with only the Maryland and a few frigates having escaped. We lost the Nanga Parbat, the Martin Luther and Ronald Tiberius was confirmed lost, along with the rest of the crew from the CAW Atlanta."
TIM frowned at that, "What was he doing on the Atlanta? His flagship was the Nanga Parbat."
"Reports from the Maryland state the Third Fleet was attacked by a UGC force prior to the complete destruction of Tiberius' fleet," Geoff explained, "They had volus bombers with them and managed to severely damage the Nanga Parbat. Due to operational necessity, Admiral Tiberius transferred command to the Atlanta just before the fleet was destroyed."
"A UGC force?" TIM questioned, his temper flaring. No doubt Shepard was leading them. Wherever my men go it seems, that man follows like a pest. "It destroyed our fleet?"
"No, sir," Geoff corrected, checking his datapad, "According to this, the UGC force was not responsible for the Third Fleet's ultimate destruction. They had ten elcor heavy frigates, several hanar destroyers, and two volus plasma bombers along with an unconfirmed vessel with a thanix cannon that destroyed the Jericho. This force was largely destroyed sir, and only a handful escaped the system."
"So what killed our fleet?" TIM asked, confused at how his fleet could just implode, and knowing full well the 'unconfirmed vessel' was the Normandy.
"A Reaper force sir. It turned up at the height of the battle on the ground," Geoff gulped, "According to this, they were hundreds strong. Well over two hundred ships. They swarmed Third Fleet and totally destroyed it sir. The Maryland barely escaped with the ships it had."
"Reapers?" TIM cursed inwardly, shaking his head as he rubbed his temples, taking a sip of his favourite alcohol. He took control of himself, keeping his aura of calm, "Well, we should have expected they would intervene; being so close to their space. What about this 'battle on the ground?' What do you mean? The Port would have only had ERCS guards; underpaid rookies. The division I sent should have been more than sufficient."
Geoff nodded, "True sir, but the UGC somehow managed to deploy a relief force. According to this, they had a company of krogan commandos, two platoons of Blue Suns, one platoon of Blood Pack, two platoons of Eclipse and a horde of insects they couldn't identify. We've cross-referenced it and confirmed it to be rachni sir."
Ah yes, the fruits of Shepard's labour. He has been working hard it seems. I'm impressed; he has assembled quite a unique force and has done more than I thought he would achieve. To have rachni on his side is an impressive feat in itself, but it still won't win this war. Controlling the Reapers will. "So I'm assuming the division was destroyed?"
"They managed to decimate half of the division in an attempt to raid the western corridor but Kai Leng's relief forces from the Peak forces managed to make a push and get inside the compound. Leng reported an attempt at a flanking tactic through the garage, but was ambushed and fought his way out."
TIM had to hold back a snort at that, taking another puff of his cigarette. 'Fought his way out?' Leng has never been very conformitive to defeat. More likely Shepard engaged in a one-on-one fight and forced him to retreat. Too prideful for his own good. "Well? Then why was the mission a failure? Half a division and Leng's regiment should have overrun the Port. Especially with the Megalodon tank I gave him."
"The Reaper forces arrived just as they were entering the Port sir," Geoff elaborated, scrolling down the datapad as he read its contents further, brows furrowing in disappointment, "They deployed their forces and attacked Leng's forces as they entered the Port. He barely escaped with his life, he reported."
"Continue," TIM stated, "What happened? You said the operation was a partial failure? Why? It either failed or it didn't."
"When the Maryland picked up Leng, our operative reported that the scientists escaped," he gulped, meeting TIM's eyes, "But he did manage to locate, home in on and eliminate Jacob Taylor."
TIM blinked momentarily, looking up at him, "Excuse me? He actually managed to assassinate Taylor? Did he bring evidence of the kill?"
"There was red blood on his blade, sir," Geoff stated, "But he also said that if you want evidence, you should 'ask Shepard, I made him watch.' Did you want me to bring him in, sir?"
"No," TIM decided, impressed that Leng hadn't completely ruined the mission and had actually managed to eliminate a known traitor to his organization and defector. The death of Jacob Taylor would definitely help him sleep better at night, "No, tell him he is to return to base and stock up; I want him to be ready for when Operation: Deathstroke reaches fruitition. He'll be leading the forces then as well. This goes to show that Operation: Polar Fire wasn't a complete failure afterall. Have the remnants of the Third Fleet return to Manifest Destiny Station and get them restocked, refueled and rearmed. When that's done, have them assigned to Fleet Admiral Terrence's Fourth Fleet. And tell him to get his fleet ready. I want Deathstroke ahead of schedule. We're running short of time, and the Reaper lines are extending. We need to act quickly."
"Ahead of schedule sir?" Geoff asked again, and seeing TIM's nod, he nodded himself, typing the information into his omni-tool. When he was finished, he turned back to TIM, omni-tool still raised, "Do you want me to relay that to our main operative on the Citadel? How about the rest of our sleeper agents?"
"Inform all of them of the change. Tell them the time is coming. Especially our main operative," TIM took another drag of his cig before snuffing it out in the ash tray, "As of tomorrow, it is all hands on deck. Deathstroke approaches and I want it completed by the end of next week. We cannot afford time anymore. Either take the chance or lose it. But we cannot let Shepard's foolish endeavours continue and for him to get away with it. We need to rid him and the UGC of their last haven. To take what they so sorely need. And then, and only then, will we be able to forward our plans on controlling the Reapers. The key is there, we need only seize it. And I believe this 'Crucible' may hold the key to doing that."
"So you want to send the preparation order?" Geoff double-checked.
"Yes, do it. Have Leng ready to lead them and the Fourth Fleet ready for combat," TIM took one final sip of his whiskey as he gazed into the bright light of Anadius.
"We're going to take the Citadel."
{Loading...}
June 20, 2186
1200 hours.
Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel.
The Reaper War.
Second Lieutenant James Vega.
James stood behind his work bench, fiddling with his Revenant as he mulled over the events of the day before. He remembered watching Jacob die, seeing the man stabbed right through the back of the head, murdered before his very eyes. The very image scarred the man, because that day he saw his commander, the man who seemed so unbeatable, crumble for a mere moment, and become a cold, frosted cage. He hadn't known Jacob very well, but for Marcus to break down like that, for Garrus to lose his cool in such a fashion, to that little, mischevious thief, Houdini he called her, sob and cry, they must have known him for a long time.
James had lost alot of friends himself, especially during the Collector attack on Fehl Prime two years ago. He had lost his entire squad except for one, and he hadn't seen him for a very long time. For all he knew, that man was probably dead on Earth now, or some other world, or converted into a husk. And that asari...the one he felt a momentary attraction to...he hadn't seen her ever since. Only God knew whether she was alive and safe on Thessia, or dead...her body mutilated and corrupted. The thought brought him no peace, so he shelved it as quickly as it came to him.
He moved his thoughts elsewhere; its how he dealt with the loss of losing a friend, a squadmate, an ally in battle. Its how he coped with death.
Then, he realized with some excitement, that by tomorrow, they would be in orbit of Tuchanka and curing the genophage. And he would be part of the expedition to change history. The thought send tingles throughout James' body, the marine still incredulous that they were finally here; after the cure was dispersed, the entire might of a reborn krogan people would join the UGC, along with the collective strength of the Turian Hierarchy and Volus Protectorate. Three factions, all for one cure. It was a miracle what one simple formula could do to change the minds of many.
Of course, the Salarian Union wouldn't be very pleased at the idea, if he had heard right. Although at this point it didn't look like Shepard even cared, simply electing to ignore the Union's protests and cure the genophage anyway. It was a eons long dispute, and it had to end at some point. The krogan had paid the price for their crimes, and now they could rebuild anew. Just one krogan company is a badass force...but for every single krogan in existence to go to war? Damn, I'm glad I'm on their side.
"Lieutenant Vega?" a voice broke his thoughts, and as he looked up, he saw it was Keeling, holding out her rifle to him.
He shook his head, rubbing his eyes to make it look like a lack of sleep as he nodded, smiling, "Yes, Keeling? What can I do for you?"
She flinched, the rifle moving forwards an inch, "I want you to fix my rifle. It got damaged during the battle on Noveria."
He nodded, frowning, "Why can't you fix it? I see you modding it all the time; you're a natural."
She shook her head, "Nothing like this. A bullet went right through the barrel, came out the other side. Nothing I can do. Figured you could."
He grinned, relieving the weapon from her grip and placing it down on the bench before him, cracking his knuckles, "You figured correctly, ."
He could see where the damage was almost immediately upon laying eyes on it. A bullet, high-velocity and heavy pounder obviously, had punced right through the right side, shredded the innards and come out the other side, totally ruining the otherwise fine weapon. It was light, compact and easy to fire whilst dealing heavy damage, and now it was beyond saving.
"Actually, I think you figured wrong," James sighed, laying the rifle back down on the bench before him, "The weapon is totally cactus, and there's nothing I can do for it. Sorry, Keeling."
The N7 sighed as much, retrieving the weapon from the table and nodding, "I thought as much. It didn't look like even the most skilled calibrator could fix it, but I thought I'd give it a try."
"You mean give it to me to give a try?" James remarked, grinning smugly at her.
She met his eyes, and for a second it looked as if she was about to smile. At the last second however, she stopped, shook her head and turned away, grunting, "Yeah, same thing really." She moved to walk away, but James just couldn't help but open his mouth. He had wanted to talk to her, get to know her, but the woman kept shutting him down like some robot; refused to smile, refused to laugh, hell, refused to show any socialable skill other than military calls. The most emotion he got from her was when-
Images of her snarling and shouting at him flashed across his eyes, and he shook his head to clear them, hating the very thought of them. That was a side of Keeling I never want to see again. So angry, so furious, so murderous, so...
...terrified.
"Keeling!" he almost shouted, and he felt heat reach his cheeks upon saying it so loud, gaining a grin from Cortez. He glared at the man, and the pilot turned away, silently chuckling to himself.
The special forces operative stopped mid-step, turning towards him with a raised eyebrow, her head poking out from behind a wall of crates almost comically, "Yes, Lieutenant?"
He sighed, bracing against at the bench, "You don't have to keep referring to me by rank. I already call you Keeling, and technically you're a higher rank than me."
She frowned, "We hold the same rank."
"Yes, but you hold more authority than me," James added.
"How so?" she questioned.
"You're special forces, I'm a jarhead. That gives you automatic authority, in my case," he replied, sighing as he rubbed his face, "So come on, just quit it. You can just call me Vega...ma'am."
She sighed, shaking her head. Finally, she reached a decision and nodded, although reluctantly, "Fine...Vega. You wanted something?"
He nodded, exhaling through his nostrils as he found a crate behind him, blindly pulling it out and plunking himself down on it, hands on his knees, "Yes, I wanted to talk with you, ma'am. We rarely get time to on missions. Figured this would be the perfect time to do it. Soldier on soldier."
She sighed, considering him for a moment. She scanned his eyes for any sign of insincerity, any sign that he was yanking her chain or attempting some kind of prank. Coming up short, she shook her head, "I don't talk, Vega, I just do. I don't have time for talking, there's work to be done."
Just as she turned to leave, she stopped, hearing a low chuckle erupt from James' lips. Frowning, she turned back to face him, raising an eyebrow at his incredulous grin, "Was what I said amusing to you?"
He just chuckled again, slouching further on the crate as he leaned against the crates behind it, smile never leaving his face, "Yeah. You're all about work and no talk, which I found pretty funny. And silly."
Keeling dropped her weapon on the ground and moved over to his work bench, leaning over it as close as she could, "If you find my work ethic amusing, then maybe I should get a transfer. I will not be mocked because I put the mission before idle chit-chat. We're at war, Vega."
"Well aware of that. I was on Earth, just like you," he replied, his face losing most of its amusement, as did his tone, "But at the moment, the war is out there, not here. No Reapers coming to harvest us, no Cerberus coming to kill us. Just you, me, the crew, and the whole damn Citadel. Right now, the war can wait. Right now, I just want to talk you like a decent human being. Is that asking too much?"
Keeling rolled her eyes, "I am not Shepard. I'm not so care free that I can afford to let my guard down like that. While we're chatting, Cerberus could infiltrate the ship, anything could happen and I wouldn't be ready for it."
He laughed incredulously, leaning forward as he held his hands together, "You're not just paranoid, you're trying to be prepared for everything. Noone can be prepared for everything. Even Shepard's been taken by surprise numerous times. Everyone needs to let their guard down everyone once and a while. We're safe here."
"Nowhere is safe," the N7 snorted, leaning back to properly stand, "We're never safe. Nothing is safe. We're at war Vega. War with a race that doesn't even sleep or get hungry or needs medical attention. If a husk drops, it just replaces it and if it gets wounded, it continues like nothing happened. They don't have supply lines and they have all the time in the galaxy. They aren't on a timer, they can let their guard down because taking them by surprise is basically a useless tactic, and they are always safe."
He shook his head, "And that's got to do with the here and now...how?"
She look flustered for a second before regaining her calm composure, waving a hand at him in annoyance, "You don't get it do you? The best weapon the enemy have is surprise and if I let my guard down to talk to you..."
"Yes, I'm sure they'll target you before, say, someone like Loco?" he grinned, shaking his head, "Sure, Keeling. Honestly, you can use better excuses to not socialize with someone. You just don't want to talk because you're not used to it."
She widened her eyes at him for a second before shaking her head, creasing her lips, "That's not true."
"It is," he replied immediately and firmly, "You've barely talked three words of casual conversation to anyone on this ship. If it isn't mission based or you're not giving orders, you're not talking. That bothers me. It bothers loco. It bothers everyone. Here, on this ship, are people who have fought and bled together, Keeling. They know each other off by heart, but the most they know about you is that you kick ass in combat and your name is Keeling. Although I'm not sure you allowed me to use your first name."
She stood for a second, looking him over again. Finally, she spoke, "My first name hasn't been used in years; I'm surprised anyone remembers it. I prefer being called Keeling, anyway. Or Second Lieutenant."
"Fair enough," he raised his hands, halting any further talk of that, "But how about where you were born? What were you before the service? What operations did you fight in? What's it like fighting under the captain? Any relatives? Any...?"
"Is this an interrogation?" she blurted out, cutting him off.
He shrugged, "If you mean 'do you have to answer this?' The short answer is no. The long answer is that I'd prefer you answer at least some of them."
"Read my dossier," Keeling blatantly responded, "Its got everything you need to know. I'm sure if you ask the captain nicely, he'll let you have a peak if you're that nosey."
He sighed, "Damn Keeling, you're a tough nut to crack. How stubborn can a woman be? I'm just trying to get to know you."
"Its not necessary," she stated, moving to retrieve, "If you want to get to know me, read my dossier. That's about as much as I care to offer."
Without thinking, James blurted out, "You were terrifed."
She froze in place, and he watched one of her hands clench up, gripping her rifle that much harder, her knuckles becoming abnormally white from tension. Then she unclenched it, and slowly turned to face him, her irritated gaze gone and replaced with a blank gaze. He knew that look. It was the look of someone with something to hide.
"Pardon?" she asked, calmly but slowly, as if holding back some inner urge.
He gulped, choosing his next words carefully as an architect would looking over blueprints. Except Keeling's blueprints were laced with landmines, and one misstep and it was all over, "That time when we...sparred. When you...lost it."
Her eyes remained blank, but he noticed her hand clench on the rifle again, this time so tight he thought she might pop a vein, "Stop."
Despite all the signs telling him to stop, he kept going, like the idiot he was, "When you...attacked me. You told me to get away. That I wouldn't...violate you. Loco had to get you off of me because you were ready to open my throat..."
"Stop," she stated, a bit more forcefully this time, taking a step forward, but he swore he saw something else in her eyes...a silent plea?
"And it was then I realized," he concluded, hammering the final nail in his coffin, "It was because of what you told me. How I straddled you. It brought back memories of that time those men tried to rape you. How you killed them. And when I straddled you, you thought it was happening all over again. You were angry, confused but I saw one thing you didn't."
"Vega," she warned, her voice laced with danger and he saw her lips crease to the side, as if prepared to spit, "I said stop."
"You. Were. Scared," he finished.
She moved forward, looking about ready to punch him, coming to stand right infront of him. For his part, he did not flinch, knowing what he had wrought upon himself. He held his position, gazing up into her eyes. He saw her eyes twitch, her fist clench and unclench. It was a tense silence, almost like everyone in the shuttle bay had just left or held their breath and then, within a moment, it broke.
A rifle clattered to the floor, ignored and spent. Keeling's grip loosened, blood flowing back into her hand as she took a steady step back, her cold gaze broken and taking a deep breath as she looked away from him, as if ashamed. Suddenly, she moved over to his gun bench and pulled herself up onto its surface, meeting his eyes again, this time with the same composure she had before...before he mentioned it. She's like a robot. "Well...you're not going to leave me alone until I talk, so I guess it couldn't hurt. What did you wish to know? As long as its nothing...intrusive."
"If you ever mention anything else about what happened again, I'll make you regret it." Is basically what she was saying. James regained his smarts and knew to stay clear of that, but it got her attention at least. He nodded, clearing his throat. He had her, and now he didn't know what to ask. With a gulp, he met her eyes and began.
"Where were you born?"
"That's it?" Keeling asked, incredulous, "First question, and you ask where I'm born?"
"What do you want from me?" he almost growled, "You said nothing too intrusive, and I didn't think your birth place was very intrusive so I just went for it."
She sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment before nodding, moving a piece of hair out of her face and curling it around her ear, "Very well. I was born in Washington D.C, back in UNAS on Earth. At least...I think I was. My memory during that period was very fuzzy. I do remember seeing the White House however...just a monument now of course, but...I still remember it, clear as day. Reapers have probably reduced it to dust now, so I guess it doesn't matter. There you go, now you know. Are we done?"
He whistled, holding up his hands, "Slow down, we've barely started!"
"I'm sure we've been through this before," Keeling reasoned, "We've already talked about this. I was born in Washington, I didn't know my parents, I was forced to live with the Tenth Street Reds gang, and when I was almost old enough to join the military, I had to fight off some rapists," she visibly gulped at that, "I killed them all and now I'm an N7. That's all you need to know."
He rolled his eyes, looking at her with a frustrated look, "But I want to know the person! Hearing you read it off...its like reading a book! How did those events make you feel?"
She shook her head, "I don't know what your game is, but I'm not playing it. Everyone on this ship has a job to do, and so do you. So do I. So let's get back to it." She moved to stand, but James stood at the same time he did, hands clenched at his sides.
"You can't shell it all up forever you know," James muttered, meeting her eyes as she spoke louder, "One day, you're going to want someone to talk to, and you won't find any if you shut people out like that. I just want to talk to you like a human being."
She laughed bitterly, leaning down to pick up her finished rifle, and she simply looked at him, her gaze almost looking like she pitied him, "I shut people out for one simple reason: they get too close, and that's when you crack. Just look at Jacob Taylor," she stepped forward until she was face to face with him, "He died, he let people get close, and now he has a grieving fiance and our captain mourns while there's a war on. That's why I don't let people in. Because if I do...that'll be me. I plan on being the survivor."
He frowned at her, "That's a pretty bleak way of looking at it."
She shrugged, turning to walk back over to her area of the bay, "There is no other way of looking at it. That's just how it is. Get with the program Vega, but it won't get with you. You either learn to keep your emotions in check, or let them control you; but someday, just like yesterday, those emotions will master you, and you will be weak. Javik understands that."
He snorted, crossing his arms, "You can't seriously agree with that pandejo, can you?"
She nodded, almost around the corner when she spoke, "I can, and I do. He's right. Sure, the protheans lost. But I can tell you they'll last a hell of alot longer than we will if the captain keeps this up."
"Don't talk about the Captain like that," James growled back, shouting, "He's a strong man! He's a hero!"
"This war doesn't need heroes," Keeling shouted back, "It needs victories. And if he were so strong, then where is he now?" And with that, she disappeared behind the crates of her area and James shook his head, leaning against the bench again.
He glanced to the elevator, sighing as he wondered just what Marcus was up to in that cabin of his.
{Loading...}
June 20, 2186
1349 hours.
Combat Information Center, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel.
The Reaper War.
Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Yeoman Kelly Chambers, Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor.
The voice played throughout his mind as he gazed neverendingly into the galaxy map's core, gripping the railing in a vice and never flinching from his frozen position.
"Commander? I didn't think you'd be up yet." Jacob's first words to him when they first met on Lazarus Station.
"I'm Second Lieutenant Jacob Taylor by the way and I can help you with any questions you might have. Of course, most of the little details were explained when you first woke up, but we didn't go into detail. I can tell you the specifics, but the rest will have to be explained when we get the hell of this station. Deal?" Marcus remembered that entire sentence like it was yesterday. Funny, didn't mean much now. But today, Marcus realized that through Jacob, he had found out Tali survived the Normandy's destruction. Jacob had told him that. Given him hope two years after his first death.
"Miranda's right," he stated, "Everyone here knew what they signed up for with Lazarus. They were ready to give their lives for the project, for you. They were willing to die." Marcus would give a bitter laugh at that now. Is that what you did, Jacob? Did you willingly die? For me?
"Any commander worthy of his stripes is a man I serve," Jacob snapped a salute, "I'm here to stay, commander." He sighed, wiping his forehead. That wasn't very long, Jacob. You didn't stay very long. And now you're gone.
"Yeah, I hear you," Jacob spoke up, moving to stand beside him, snapping a quick salute, "I don't know you as well as everyone else Commander, but in the time I've served with you, I know that when the fight comes, I'll be there, waiting. Right now, all I can do is stay hidden from Cerberus. Maybe help out the Broker with some information searching. Best I can do really. Can't return to Earth unless I want to be arrested, so that option is out." Damn it Jacob. Damn it...you could have been there. You could have joined us in one final battle...
"She's a bit special..."
"Girlfriend, still. Although I have proposed, and she will marry me, when we're actually safe from Cerberus," he shrugged, "She's even pregnant. She's due in four months." And now she's but a widow...and a single parent. A girl without a father...
"With all this over, and Brynn safe, do you think..."
"Do you think me and Brynn could join the Normandy? I couldn't ever leave her side, but it would be nice to fight with you again. I just hope this Vega guy hasn't messed up my armoury."
Pain. Stop. No, stop.
Pain was welling up in his chest. He could feel it. He knew what was coming, and he didn't want to hear it again. He didn't. No not his last words, please no...
"Well that's okay then..."
Stop...
"Because me and Brynn?"
STOP!
"We're going to help you win this war..."
ENOUGH!
"I did say I'd kill you."
SILENCE!
His trance was broken, and everything was brought back into normal view in time for him to feel a hand on his shoulder, five-fingers and grasping it. The hand wasn't blue, so it wasn't Liara. Who was pestering him? He wanted them to go away. Couldn't he have five minutes to himself?
The hand shook him, and this time he heard Kelly shouting at him, "Shepard! Stop ignoring me! That won't solve anything! Shepard! Shepard! Shepa-"
He whorled in an instant, knocking her hand away angrily, "WHAT!? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT!?"
Kelly almost flew back from his outburst, eyes widening in terror as she held up her hands, almost as if to placate him. Samantha seemed to flinch from her terminal as well, visibly shaken by his loud voice. Seeing the fear he instilled in them, he shrunk back, his angry expression dying as he rubbed his eyes, reducing his intimidated posture back down to nothing.
"Sorry," was all he could manage.
Kelly nodded, her hands falling back to her side and gulping, looking to Traynor, as if for clarification that everything was okay. Samantha simply nodded at her, returning to her terminal and continuing whatever work it was she had been doing.
Kelly straightened her uniform, nodding as she smoothed her hair, which had fallen in her hair when she had jumped back in fright, "Its okay, Shepard, just startled, that's all. But we need to talk. You're worrying the crew."
He scrunched up his lips, frowning, "I'm aware of that. But what the hell am I supposed to do? A friend of mine is dead and his murderer lives. How the fuck am I supposed to react?"
Kelly nodded, scratching her neck, "They understand that, Shepard. We all do. But you can't keep acting like this. Mordin's cure will be ready tomorrow, but we can't leave if you're-"
"Nothing has changed. The mission remains the same," Marcus stated simply, eyes glaring into her, "We go to Tuchanka, unleash the cure and leave. Me losing a friend isn't going to change what needs to be done. I'm still fit for duty."
"Are you sure about that?" Came another voice, and they both turned to see Chakwas, arms crossed and glaring at him like he was some adversary. Like he was...was...Kai Leng, "Because from what I see, you aren't fit to lead a two-man fireteam."
He turned to her, waving an arm at her, "What the fuck do you know of it?"
"Know of what? Loss?" Chakwas snorted, and she quickly moved up to him, slapping him across the face faster than he could react. His eyes flared as he glared down at her, but she responded before he could say anything, his breathing getting heavier, "Two years ago, we lost you. We lost Pressly. We lost Johnson. This crew has encountered loss three times, and Jacob is but the forth. So don't ask me what I know of it!"
"It doesn't change the fact that Jacob's dead!" he roared back, moving back as he began to pace angrily, venting all his frustration, "That his killer is still fucking loose! That the fucking scumbag gets to wonder around knowing that he killed my friend and lived to talk about it! HE DESERVED TO DIE! And you know the worst part? I COULD HAVE STOPPED IT!"
"Enough," Chakwas snapped, "Don't you dare try that crap with me. Not again. Always blaming yourself for things that are out of your control! You need to under-"
"I had him!" he snarled in her face, spittle landing on her face as he gritted his teeth, looking like some kind of rabid dog, "I could have killed him! He was wounded and breaking! All I needed to do was draw my omni-blade and take his head. Instead, my team pulled me away, let him get away! I could have killed Kai Leng and Jacob would be alive today!" he moved away, shaking his head until finally he punched the bulkhead next to him, causing Chakwas to flinch from the sudden sound, but remaining indifferent, "I COULD HAVE STOPPED HIM! I could have...I could of...I might have...but you stopped me...pulled me away...I could have stopped him..."
"Shepard, we only want to help," Kelly pleaded, hand on his shoulder, "We know you're suffering. The crew has seen it. You need to stop pretending that everything is okay because we know it-"
Marcus looked at her, laughing bitterly, "Okay? You think I pretend to think everything is okay? Nothing is okay! This galaxy is fucked! I'm fucked! Our entire situation is fucked! Earth fell, Anderson's still down there, Cerberus has militarized, the Council are still a bunch of ignorant fucktards, the turians want the fucking krogan before they'll do shit, the asari and salarians are dumb as dog-shit, we're waiting on a damn cure, the Primarch lost his fucking son, and now Jacob is dead and Kai Leng lives!" he grabbed Kelly by the collar and pushed her into the bulkhead, slamming her against her back, "I DON'T PRETEND EVERYTHING IS ALRIGHT! IT ISN'T! IT FUCKING ISN'T! EVERYTHING IS FUCKED!" he let go of her, eyes piercing hers, "I help everyone else pretend everything is okay. That we can win. That our friends will be fine and everything will go back to normal. You want to delude yourselves, fine," he turned to Chakwas, a dangerous glint in his eye, "But I won't be a part of it. I'm the realist. Javik was right."
"Javik was right?" Chakwas frowned, "About what, exactly?"
"That we can't win this war and expect to come out with our morals intact," he looked between the both of them, "But he was also wrong. We can't win this war. I should have seen this from the start. I'm no fucking hero. I'm not some paragon. I'm not some guy who can achieve the impossible! I blew up a star system with three hundred thousand in it! What hero does that? What paragon snaps the neck of an asari spectre who's trying to surrender? Me, merciful? I'm not merciful! I'm a ruthless scumbag! But that's what's needed to win this! Is that enough? NO! I've been trying to play God this entire fucking time and it isn't working!"
"You don't believe that," Chakwas stated simply, "You can't."
"But...you're our only hope," Samantha whimpered, "You're...meant to save us all. You know about this threat more than anyone. You can beat them!"
He whorled on her, "Really? Your only hope? If I'm all the hope you have then you've just proven me right: there is no way to win this. Because your only hope is a man who is broken, tired and creaky. I don't have the capacity for this bullshit anymore."
"You cannot give up!" Chakwas growled bluntly, rushing up to him, "You can't!"
"Who the fuck are you to say I can't?" he barked, waving her off, "I am tired of this! All of it! I'm tired of fighting, I'm tired of politics, and I'm tired of people trying to ask me if I'm alright! No I'm not fucking alright! I feel like shit! I've been bounced on, betrayed, slapped across the face and lied too all my life and what do I get for it? War! That's my reward! More conflict, more death, more destruction! I'm tired of losing friends! I'm tired of all this bullshit! The Reapers are going to win, I know that now."
They heard Kelly sob, and all eyes turned on her, "You can't mean that."
His eyes held no sympathy, just steely indifference, "I meant every word of it."
"You piece of shit."
Chakwas widened her eyes when she turned to see Joker, hanging to one side and glaring at Marcus like a demon. The pilot looked furious, angry and most of all, disgusted.
Marcus turned to him, glaring, "You have something to say to me, Jeff Moreau?"
"Yeah, I do," Joker moved over to stand beside Samantha, Chakwas shaking her head in warning, but he ignored her, his glare never stopping, "You're an imbecile. Half the shit you just said? You're a liar, a coward and a moron. How dare you turn your back on everything you stand for...you turn your back on me, on Chakwas, on everyone on this ship! And guess what? You're turning your back on Tali!"
She saw something in Marcus' eyes harden, and she gulped when nothing but ice filled his eyes, past the stage of blind fury, "Don't you dare bring her up. She has nothing to do with this."
Joker chuckled cruelly, shaking his head, his smile mirthless, "You're a cockless fuck. Tali has everything to do with this! You're not only betraying her, but you're spitting on her and everything you stand for! She fought by your side and dusted you off when you fell? And now? Now you say her efforts were mootless and that she was useless. Is that what she was? Useless?"
"Tali was not useless..." she heard Marcus mutter, "She was not useless...anything but useless..."
"Doesn't sound like it!" Joker barked, his anger boiling to breaking point, "The way you put it, she seems pretty useless! Marrying you, falling in love with you, joining your crew...all seems pointless if the great Shepard is just going to give up!"
"He's right," came another voice, and they all looked to the elevator to see Garrus standing there, his arms crossed and glaring at Marcus, "You need to dust yourself off and get back into the fight."
Marcus just shook his head, "What's this? The great paragade crusade? You all going to sing me bedtime stories now and tell me everything will be alright?"
"Quit being such a fucking child," Garrus snapped, moving up until he was standing right infront of Marcus, "Jacob's death hit me pretty hard. I'm feeling just as much as you are. I know what pain you're going through but does not mean you get to quit! Man the fuck up!"
Marcus was right back at him, their foreheads practically touching as the situation got more and more heated, "You're telling me to man up, dino? Go fuck yourself! Maybe I should bring Sidonis in here and see what he has to say!"
The turian looked moritified for a second but then his glare returned, much stronger now, "That was uncalled for. We're just trying to-"
"I don't want it," Marcus spat, "I don't want your help, I don't want any of your help. All of you, just shut the fuck up and leave me alone!" he turned to everyone, "All of you! As your Commanding Officer, I'm ordering you to return to your posts!"
"That shit isn't going to cut it anymore," Garrus hissed, his look almost feral, "You can't keep running away from this. Its time to own up and admit you're fallible, for spirit's sake. You're not invincible, you can't save everyone and you most certainly have emotions! Jacob's death hit us all hard!"
"This isn't about Jacob anymore!" he shouted back, "This is about all of you! I will not...I cannot..." he backed away, hands on his hips, "You're like...you're like...you are my family. And I will not see another damn Reaper...or Leng..." he growled, spitting the word like some venomous poison, "Take another one of you away from me! I won't stand for it!"
"If you do nothing then it will happen again! And again! And AGAIN!" he grabbed Marcus by the shoulders, turning him to face the turian, "They will kill me, THEY WILL KILL TALI!"
"No...no...no..." the human muttered, over and over.
"So knock off the sob story and get up! LOOK AT ME!" Marcus finally looked into his eyes, their pits soulless and pitiless, broken and full of despair, "Don't give up! Not when we need you! When she needs you."
Marcus gulped, and the fury that had been in his eyes melted away, replaced by sadness, and finally by blank nothing. Marcus Shepard had fallen back inside himself, encasing his emotions, like law and order brought to the streets of a city that had been flooded by riots. He calmed down, his tense body loosening like a bow string being fired. Garrus let go of him, and almost immediately upon doing so, Marcus shot off towards the elevator, looking at noone.
"Where are you going?" Chakwas questioned.
Marcus stopped infront of it, but simply looked at the ground as he responded, "I'm going to get out of these clothes, get in some fresh ones. Then...I'm going to the Citadel."
"To do what?"
"None of your business. Please, just leave me alone."
"Shepard-"
Just as he entered the elevator and the door shut, Garrus shook his head at her, "Leave him be. Just...leave him be. He's coping in his own way, and he doesn't need people psychoanalyzing him."
"He needs help," Joker forlornly stated, his anger diminished, "That man...he wasn't Shepard. That was something else. Shepard would never say shit like that."
"Regardless, we should leave him be," Garrus ordered, turning to Chakwas. Seeing the worry in both her eyes and Joker's, he nodded, "But to be sure, I'll have Kasumi track him quietly. Just...I think its best we keep our distance, at least until tomorrow."
And with that, they dispersed.
But Chakwas couldn't help but think they were making a fatal mistake with leaving Marcus Shepard alone.
The last thing he needed was that.
"Jacob's death was pretty hard on us, but what of Tuchanka? I remember what you said..."
- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.
"It was horrible and it was beautiful. We changed history, and added our own. And we would never forget the sacrifices made that day."
- Marcus Shepard.
A/N:
This chapter was a bitch to write, but I got through it alright so I guess I'm all good now. Next one won't be for a very long while though. It sucks too, because we're getting so close to Tali now that its becoming very hard not to continue writing. But school is more important, unfortunately. The show must go on.
Keelah Se'lai, troopers!
