Chapter 16: The Fall

The song of the rachni queen echoed in his head as a strange medley of quixotic hope and somber resignation. There was no hesitation when she sang into their minds. Survivor. Saviour. Hero. Killer. Shepard had been called many things but this newest title would have seemed almost melodramatic if it didn't echo within the emptiness he felt inside with every day that passed.

Tali's response was far less understanding.

"What kind of name is that? Shepard saved you! The Council... Wrex, Ashley, they all thought you were a threat but he let you live."

He held up a hand to forestall the quarian's protest but the queen's voice sang in their minds once more.

All things must end, Devotion-Singer. End brings about change.

"Is the giant bug going to give everyone a name?" Grunt asked.

Shepard could see the agitation in the krogan's frame. The queen's voice wasn't threatening but he still had ancient memories of his people fighting the rachni thanks to Okeer's tank imprints. Hundreds of years ago his people had descended into hives just like this one with weapons of mass destruction. To find himself standing before one now must have been quite the shock.

We do not give names. Our people do not use the word-songs as yours do, we sing only of what we see within. You are Sings-Memories. Within you are the songs of your ancestors. They guide you just as our memory-songs guide us.

Static crackle interrupted the odd conversation. Garrus' voice came through, clearly breathing hard.

"Shepard... I don't know what you did but it pissed something off! We've got husks and rachni coming from everywhere. Laying down suppressive fire but they're just throwing themselves into it. I'm getting the suspicion that they've got more bodies than we've got bullets."

"Copy that, Garrus. We located the queen. Stand by... we'll have something soon."

"Understood. Don't take too long. Dying on some random planet to a bunch of bugs would be embarrassing."

He nodded and turned his attention back to the queen.

"I'm sure we could ask you a thousand questions, but we don't have time so I'm going to skip to the important ones. How did this happen? I freed you and you promised to disappear. To raise your 'children' in peace."

Our promise was fulfilled. Once we escaped the frozen planet we returned to our home to rebuild... we taught our children of your kindness and our voices sang between the stars once more. But the dark-song destroyers came. They tried to sing the sour-yellow notes to twist our thoughts as they did to our mothers but we would not submit.

This time it was Liara's voice that interrupted. "You mean you were able to resist indoctrination?"

Yes, Watchful-Singer. The memory song of our people taught us of their deception. We sang defiance... but they came with their machines and we could not stop them, they were too many. Our daughters were scattered and we sang them to sleep to hide from the dark-song destroyers.

Shepard stood, looking up at the queen for a long moment before he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. He knew about the 'sour-yellow notes' all too well. A part of him was curious, in a twisted way, exactly what nightmares the Reapers would inflict upon a rachni. What did the queen's kind fear? What whispered urgings had turned their entire race against the galaxy centuries ago?

A startled sound from his companions and the sound of movement caused him to open his eyes. The rachni, bound as she was, still possessed some flexibility and her torso had lowered until her head was near his own. The part of his mind that still ran on instinct told him to run but it was an urge quickly pushed aside. When the queen's voice sang to him once more it was quieter and he realized that she spoke only to him.

You hear the sour-yellow notes as well. We can sense them, they color your undersong, a discordant echo. You are strong, Sings-of-Endings. You do not submit but your songs are thick with yellows and grays.

His response was a strained whisper. "I'm still my own man."

We know. Yours is a song we have heard before, but the notes have changed. You sing in reds and blacks to drown out the dark-song destroyers. Life cannot be sustained with only notes of fury and war. All colors must be sung or the melody will fail.

"I will... sing those notes because I have to," Shepard explained. "The Reapers... the 'dark-song destroyers' wage war on the entire galaxy. They want to use your children to destroy us. I can't let that happen."

The queen's song once more grew in volume to touch the minds of all those present.

The children of this world have been taken from us before we could sing to them. Like those on the frozen planet they are lost. The dark-song destroyers control them forever more. We know they must be destroyed.

"Our mission was to make sure the Reapers can never use the rachni against us, Battlemaster," Grunt said, eyeing the queen. "We should end this."

Our fate is to be decided by you once again, Sings-of-Endings. If you would consign us to silence then we will accept that fate. But we can be freed of these shackles to sing freedom once more.

"She's right..." Tali trailed off for a second as she examined the nearby console. "If I deactivate this terminal it will disable the magnetic clamps. It looks like... Keelah, they're imbedded in her legs. The pain must be terrible."

Pain-songs do not affect us the same way as they do your kind, Devotion-Singer, the queen said. But we will be slower for a time until our wounds heal.

"If they capture you again this would all have been for nothing," Shepard said.

We know. Our hope-songs were to be freed from our captivity no matter what form salvation took. As we said, all things must end. But not all endings are to be feared. It is your choice, Sings-of-Endings. Once we sent word that we would support you when the time came to face the dark-song destroyers... this is a promise we will keep, no matter your choice.

He looked up in confusion, seeing similar reactions from the others. EDI had apparently accepted that this strange conversation wasn't something she was likely to be able to process and had instead moved to guard the doorway. From Grunt's expression he still thought that they should simply detonate the largest explosive available and destroy the entire hive, but Liara looked more thoughtful. Tali was unreadable behind her mask save for the tension he could see in her frame.

Tali stepped away from the console and addressed the queen.

"What do you mean?"

When the dark-song destroyers came for us we sent our daughters to sleep on a dozen worlds. We sang to them of the destroyers, of Sings-of-Endings, of songs of white-hope and red-vengeance. Workers hibernate and ships wait in cold darkness. Many will likely be found by agents of the dark-song destroyers. But our kind has survived the destruction of songs for many cycles.

"I still don't understand," the Spectre said. "If they're hibernating how can they help us?"

Bright blue eyes turned to him again.

If you free us from this place we will sing to the stars once more and our daughters will awaken. Workers will sing building-songs and eggs will be laid. We will hide no longer in the cold places in between.

"You're using your daughters to buy your freedom," Grunt said, giving a small laugh. "Cunning."

No, we offer a choice. If we are free of this place to sing once more,our children, our people, will sing the songs of war for Sings-of-Endings. But there is another path.

"And that path..."

If you consign our songs to silence in this place instead, then we cannot awaken our children to fight for you. But we can offer songs of long promised vengeance. Our daughters were sung to sleep with memories of the dark-song destroyers. They will sleep for thousands of years. Time enough for the destroyers to disappear into the void beyond once more. When they awake they will know a singular purpose. They will sing retribution-songs. They will find the Citadel. They will build and they will swarm. And when the dark-song destroyers return once more it will be to find that it is our numbers that darken the skies of every world.

"By the goddess, Shepard," Liara gasped. "She's... she's willing to-"

"To shape her children into biological weapons with her final orders. Turn them into a sword of vengeance to strike at the Reapers even after we're gone," he finished.

"Would that even work?" Tali asked.

"The lessons of the tank taught me that the rachni never forget. That every queen remembers the lives of their mothers," Grunt said. "They would remember everything about the Reapers."

The asari shook her head in amazement.

"And have thousands of years to advance their technology, breed, colonize... the only space faring species left in the galaxy once the Reapers go back to dark space. All it takes is one single queen surviving. Sovereign said that they returned every fifty thousand years to 'harvest' organic life when we reached the peak of our advancement. It must mean that if we advanced further we'd be too much of a threat. But what would the rachni become in all that time?"

We cannot see future-songs, only prepare for them as best we know. Our children sleep with dream-songs of war. This is our last promise if we must go into the silence: the children of the Singing planet will send the dark-song destroyers into the silence as well.

The harmony of the queen's song in their mind had become iron hard in the final notes, no hint of doubt. She believed with every fiber of her being that this would come to pass. Shepard couldn't really argue the point and some part of him relished the thought of the Reaper's surprise if they returned in the next cycle only to find an endless swarm of rachni waiting to finally repay in kind what the Reapers had sown for countless millennia.

"That's assuming that we're going to fail, though," Tali objected, turning to him and taking a step forward. "We're fighting them. We have the Crucible, the fleets... we have a plan to retake Rannoch. We can beat them!"

His mind immediately began to weigh the variables. Encounters with the Reapers, colonies lost. Terra Nova had gone silent only a few days before. Bitter words rolled across his tongue before he could stop them.

"We have plans for a device that we can't even identify beyond the fact that the prothean's thought it would work and a galaxy that's only as united as its own self-interests allow. Before we can even build the Crucible we need somewhere safe enough to actually construct it. Every battle we fight with the Reapers is a delaying action. An attempt to buy time. We haven't won a single engagement since the war began."

The quarian stopped in her tracks. "You... you don't think we can win."

It was a statement rather than a question. The sound of betrayal and hurt in Tali's voice made him wince but finally he nodded and gave a sigh before forcing himself to meet her gaze.

"I'm sorry. I tried, Tali... god how I tried... but you haven't seen the reports. The ships gone in an instant, colonies wiped out in a matter of hours."

Her voice was barely a whisper now. "We believed in you."

"A battlemaster doesn't surrender!" Grunt objected. The krogan looked more confused than anything.

"No, he doesn't. And I haven't stopped fighting yet. But... I've come up with plans, listened to Hackett and Victus try to find any advantage. The best I can do is make the Reapers pay for the galaxy in blood, maybe more than they ever have before. But I can't promise you victory. Not this time."

All things must end. But now you must make haste, Sings-of-Endings. Our lost children gather.

Garrus' voice came over the comm again to punctuate the queen's statement.

"On our way to you, Shepard! Damn rachni just came out of everywhere! And I thought there were a lot before... we're falling back!"

In the distance he could hear weapons fire echoing the tunnels. He did his best to ignore Tali's wide eyed gaze and not think about the tears that the visor likely hid. Twice now he had betrayed her trust by trying to protect her. He'd been a fool to think that he could somehow shield her from all of this. Instead he addressed the queen.

"Either way I'm not going to leave my people to be killed by your children. There must be another way out of here. Do you know it?"

There are passageways to lead to the surface close to your ships. The way is complicated and winding. We can grant knowledge of the pathway but it will require our song to touch the mind directly. Do you wish this?

"Wait... not my mind," he stated quickly. "I don't think it's... a good idea for you to do that with me. The others. Give them the map."

Devotion-Singer. Sings-Memories. Watchful-Singer. Sing songs of calm and acceptance. We give you a gift-song if you would accept it.

Slowly each one nodded. Shepard watched them stiffen and Liara's eyes immediately flashed black, endlessly deep pools that he had witnessed only a few times before. As quickly as it came, though, it was over. The three staggered when whatever link was broken and Liara's eyes returned to normal.

"Amazing... it's as if I had spent years traveling every tunnel. Learned every turn," Liara muttered.

It is not a song we sing easily or without risk as your minds are very different from those of our children. The memory will fade in time.

"Do you have it?" he asked the other two.

Grunt and Tali both nodded.

"I can see tunnels in my head," the krogan said. "Miles of them."

"Good. Take up defensive positions. As soon as Garrus and the rest of the krogans make it to our position we're moving out."

To his surprise Tali approached, grabbing his arm before he could move away. Her fingers gripped him like a vice and bright eyes flashed behind the armored slits of her visor.

"When did you stop believing?"

He swallowed. "I don't know."

"Then why?" the young engineer asked. "We've done so much. You stopped Sovereign. The Collectors... you've done the impossible more than once."

Shepard reached up and lightly touched the side of her mask.

"Maybe that's the problem. I've done the impossible so many times... I died once already and it didn't end. I just came back and kept doing it. Kept collecting scars. I've only got so much fire left and everyone wants me to save them. Eventually they're going to figure out that I can't always do the impossible."

"But you can't give up," she pleaded. "Think about what we've done. Even if you don't believe in yourself anymore... we do. Don't you understand? We still believe in you. The Alliance, the galaxy... they believe in Commander Shepard. The man that can do the impossible. We need you. I... I need you."

There was no way to feel hot or cold through the suit, just the pressure as Tali leaned against his hand. He smiled even though neither of them could see the expression. The warmth in her words giving him a brief respite from the pain and discordant hum in the back of his mind. It was enough to make him think for a foolish moment that maybe her presence could be enough to help him keep control. But he knew the dangers of that path. Sooner or later he would slip.

All he'd heard for months were the whispers in his dreams and memories of long dead protheans. Two years ago he would have told them all that any fight could be won. Somewhere along the way he had lost that, let the darkness get a foothold in his soul. Her words might not be able to stop what he already felt desperately clawing at the back of his mind. But it gave him enough strength to do more than just accept the inevitable. The will to give just a little more. In the days to come, he hoped Tali would forgive him.

"I left you behind because I wanted to keep you safe, Tali. Far away from the hell that was coming as if you could somehow escape it. But I never stopped thinking of you. Remember that."

Tali cocked her head as he pulled away and turned to the queen.

"Where do you have to be to awaken your daughters? In space?"

No. Once we are free of these shackles we need only a brief time to regain our strength. The restraints fill us with chemicals to mute our song, to prevent us from calling for aid. Every song of our daughters is bound to our own. There is no distance that can stand between it. Only the cruel devices of the dark-song destroyers.

"Then we're moving out. Tali, release the shackles."

The quarian immediately perked up as she realized what he intended to do. He could hear a smile in her voice.

"Yes, Captain."

Within seconds she was already working at the console. The queen inclined her head in his direction and awaited her freedom. From across the room he could hear louder echoes of gunfire before Garrus sprinted into the room with the rest of the team at his heels. All of them look harried and Legion even had greenish ichor coating most of its armored form.

"Boss, they're coming fast and... Spirits!"

The turian skidded to halt just in time for Tali to complete the final overrides. With a loud sound of screeching metal the shackles popped open and fell away. The queen gave a triumphant roar and reared back, knocking the offending pieces of machinery away before settling back down. Now unbound she stood to her full height. Her body was nearly the length of one of the Normandy's shuttles and covered in shimmering chitin.

Just as Tali had said, he noticed there were large puncture wounds in the queen's legs that slowly leaked fluid. The flow stopped even as he watched, though, and an unnerved Garrus gripped his rifle tightly.

Be at peace, Sings-Loyalty. We stand with Sings-of-Endings against the dark-song destroyers and now we are free. Soon we will call to our daughters to join your cause and together we will sing songs of retribution against our enemy.

"I... uh... what the hell, Shepard?"

"She gives people names. Or... 'hears their song' and calls them by that. I don't know and we don't have time to find out," he replied. "You get to be 'Sings-Loyalty' apparently. She calls herself 'Hope-Singer'. So... Sings-Loyalty, meet Hope-Singer. Hope-Singer, Sings-Loyalty."

Garrus shrugged. "Alright. By now you'd think I'd have learned not to ask. Not sure my father would agree with the loyalty title, though. After all I'm a very bad turian."

Loyalty transcends the creations of your societies and structures. Your song is bright and strong, Sings-Loyalty, the song of a great brood warrior.

"Thanks..." the turian said, looking up quizzically. "I think. But unless you can stop the rachni the Reapers have already modified we're about to have company."

We are sorry, but we cannot. We can sense their approach.

Shepard looked back at the entrance. The large metal doors that they'd entered were meant to keep the queen in, not a horde of rampaging rachni out.

"Then we can't stay here. They'll come from every direction. Garrus, grab Tali and Liara, then split into two teams. The queen gave them a... mental map of the tunnels. You take Tali, half the team, and make for the surface. Liara can go with the other half and take a different route."

"What about you?" the turian asked.

"Grunt has the map too. He and I will cover the queen while whatever drugs flush out of her system and then take a third path. Your job is to get everyone out," Shepard ordered, approaching the others and pointing at James. "Vega! Trade me weapons."

The large marine slapped a fresh thermal clip into the gun and tossed it to him, catching the M-76 in return. Vega gave his commanding officer a cocky salute.

"Think you can handle that kind of firepower, loco?"

"I was handling this kind of firepower while you were still in basic," he replied. "Until we get out of here, Vega, I want you to stick to Liara like glue. That clear, soldier?"

This time the salute was far more crisp. "Yes, sir."

"Still not sure about this plan, Boss," Garrus said at his side. "The queen doesn't look like she's going to be moving fast yet and there are a lot of bad guys crawling around in here."

"Hence splitting up. They'll have to divide their forces to pursue, making them easier to handle. Just worry about getting them out, Garrus. Everything else will sort itself out."

"Let me guess, I'm supposed to stick to another woman like glue?"

Shepard clapped a hand on the turian's armored shoulder.

"Who else would I trust to get it done? You'll take care of her. Now get moving. As soon as you're topside radio for an extraction."

"Glad to hear you sounding a little more like your old self, Shepard," Garrus said, pausing for a moment before moving away. "See you on the other side."

"You too."

The two teams quickly organized themselves, checking weapons and ammo. Grunt stood nearby connecting the tank on another flamethrower that one of his soldiers had apparently retrieved. Across the room he saw Tali turn towards him but he shook his head to stop her. Instead he turned off his external pick ups and activated his private comms.

"It's not up for discussion."

The sharp reply followed before he'd even finished the sentence.

"What kind of plan is this?"

"One that will work."

Tali sighed. "Some of us should stay behind. You and Grunt-"

"Are carrying as much firepower as three of you combined. The queen needs time. We're going to give it to her. The rest of you have to follow that map the queen put in your head."

"You'd better be right behind us."

"A rachni hive isn't where I'd want to put down roots," Shepard replied.

"Better not be. Too many spiders."

Placated, the quarian finally terminated the link, her final words affectionate. Javik had taken command of the other squad and soon they were both on their way, heading into the labyrinth of tunnels with the queen's mental map to guide them. Just in time from the sound of things. He could hear the sound of claws skittering on stone growing closer. Grunt stepped up next to him and grinned ferally.

"Battlemaster."

"Grunt."

"Never thought I'd be defending a rachni queen. Okeer would probably pop a vein."

The Spectre couldn't help but laugh. "Probably so. Hope-Singer, how are you doing?"

Our blood stirs and the poisons of the dark-song destroyers weaken but we still cannot reach our children. The lost ones come, Sings-of-Endings. Their songs are a single note. Twisted black songs of hate.

A living wave suddenly poured through the metal doors. Some of the converted rachni bore the grafted weapons that the Reapers were using to turn them into living weapons platforms but others were simply implanted warriors. Their carapaces marred by cybernetic lines and deformed, but still possessing the deadly claws he remembered. The Spectre thumbed the fire selector on the machine gun.

"Let'em have it!"

The weapon came to life in his hands. He heard the whine as its mechanisms sped up and a staccato burst of fire turned into a steady roar. Grunt's flamethrower engulfed the first surge that got past the withering hail of fire from his weapon, the creatures sizzling and screeching as they died.

A volley of fire blasted over his head and Shepard wrestled the Typhoon to drag the stream of fire across one of the armed rachni. In a flash the creature's armored shell burst and it was reduced to a steaming puddle. Another corrupted warrior surged forward beneath a gout of flame, only to be knocked back as Grunt swung the weapon into the rachni's carapace and knocked it back. A short burst of fire overtook it for its trouble a second later. For each one that fell, another seemed to appear to take its place and for a moment he feared they'd be quickly overwhelmed.

Finally reaching its capacity the Typhoon ejected its red-hot sink. Shepard dropped the weapon and drew both the pistol and submachine gun from his back. Quick bursts drove away the smaller of the rachni while the pistol's heavy bite made short work of even the cybernetically enhanced rachni shells. One of the last warriors lunged for him just as his pistol clicked empty and he was forced to drop both of his weapons to catch the creature's clawed tentacles before they could rip into him.

He yelled out and kicked, knocking the creature away. Before the Spectre could go for another weapon the upper half of the warrior's body simply disappeared and the thing slumped to the ground dead. To his right Grunt simply grinned and worked the action on his heavy shotgun.

"One down... a million to go."

"That was just the first push," Shepard warned.

"Then let them come!"

The corrupted rachni didn't disappoint. They came like the tide, a push of bodies and claws that simply crashed against the cliff that was a Spectre and the perfect krogan. A tableau of ruined bodies were spread from the entrance to just in front of the pair. Shepard gave the trigger of his weapon a long pull and neatly bisected one of the remaining warriors before letting the weapon spin down and eject its spent heatsink. When he reached to his belt he found his hand grasping at an empty pouch, finally reaching farther back until he found a single thermal clip. Last one.

"Hope-Singer?"

We sing! It is difficult but we can hear our daughters'dream-songs... we must wake them so that they can hear our song! Reaching them is difficult. The dark-song destroyers' poisons still cloud our link to our children!

"How long do you need?"

Your times are strange to us... fractions of a rotation of this world. Longer than the time it would take a warrior to traverse the space between tunnels and surface.

That could mean minutes at best. Minutes. Minutes were hours if the sensors of his armor were anything to go by. Thermal sensors screamed with warnings and he could feel vibrations underfoot. The rachni were no longer content to come at them like waves. This time it would be an endless flood.

"Garrus, status?"

"Almost out, Boss. Splitting up definitely thinned their numbers. It looks like they're just running on instinct, going for the closest thing," the turian replied. "What about you?"

"The queen is still trying to contact her children."

"Still? Where the hell are you?"

"Same chamber."

Garrus' voice growled over the comm. "Dammit, Shepard. You should be moving already. Motion sensors are off the charts!"

"Just get everyone topside!" he barked then looked to Grunt. "Ammo?"

"One canister of fuel left. Few clips for the shotgun. Enough."

"Grunt... the queen needs time. Time we don't have. The only way she's going to get away is if we give it to her."

Oddly enough the krogan smiled.

"The Collectors are dead. That makes us the two most dangerous things in the galaxy. We should teach them that."

Shepard reached out and clasped wrists with the massive krogan warrior, much as he had with Wrex on another dry, barren world that their kind called home. His decision there had given hope to a species that had long since lost it even if at great cost. The Spectre could only hope that his actions on this world would do the same.

"Can you move?" he asked the queen.

Yes. We can climb. The crevices of this place run deep in the planet's crust. If we focus our songs then our lost children will not be able to hear our song to find us. You would have us hide and wait, regain our strength to sing to our children?

"That's the idea. Grunt, do you still have the map in your mind?"

The krogan frowned. "Why would I flee now?"

"Because it will split their forces just like it did before. If my armor's sensors are any indication they're all around us already. You'll just have to cut a path through" he explained quickly. "Make for the surface, Grunt. And give them a hell of a fight every step of the way."

"And you?"

Using one hand he released the seals on his helmet and pulled it off, tossing the heavy piece of armor aside. He gave the krogan warrior a wild eyed smile.

"The queen goes... I make sure nothing follows until she's so far down they'll never find her."

Grunt met his eyes and nodded, there was no argument there. Just an acknowledgement. Respect. In years Grunt had been the youngest member of his crew. The queen's name for him had been dead on, though. He had the memories of centuries of war in his blood.

"Fight well, Battlemaster."

"Fight well, Grunt."

Heavy boot steps rang throughout the cavern and then disappeared into one of the tunnels. A heartbeat later a bone shaking roar echoed throughout the network of tunnels as Grunt issued his challenge. It was a challenge he was sure many of the rachni wouldn't be able to ignore. Behind him Shepard heard the queen's bulk shift.

You have made your choice, then, Sings-of-Endings?

"Every step I've taken since Eden Prime has left me with fewer choices," he said idly, slapping fresh thermal magazines into his pistol and submachine gun.

We can still hear your song. It is still your own.

"For now. But I've already seen what happens if I let it continue. You've heard those notes, Hope-Singer. They've been getting louder and I'm finally able to hear them for what they are... but I can't tune them out even knowing them for what they are. It's time to make a choice before I'm left with none."

The queen shifted to ease her head down next to his.

You would leave your little-queen alone?

"Little queen?"

Devotion-Singer. Her song sings harmony with your own. Bright white against deep red, her melody calls to you as her most favored brood-warrior.

His expression became a sad smile.

"She'll never be alone... the Normandy is her home. Garrus. Kasumi. Joker. They'll take care of her. I've lost a lot in my life but at least I can say I gained a family. Odd as it is."

A high pitched screech filtered into the cavern from one of the tunnels. Grunt's flamethrower was hard at work from the sound of it. From tunnels all around him he could hear the scratch of clawed feet growing louder and the vibration beneath his feet became a steady hum. He looked over at the massive rachni queen.

"Time for you to go. Sing to your daughters when you regain your strength. Find Garrus and Tali, and the Normandy. Give them the strength they need to see this through."

Glowing blue eyes met his own.

All things must end, but not all endings are for all time. We will go into the depths and gather our strength. Sing defiance. Sing strength.

With that cryptic song in his mind the queen moved her considerable bulk to the edge of the massive crevice that made up the rear of the chamber that had been used as her prison cell. She had surprising grace and speed with her many legs, lifting herself over the edge before she slipped downwards. Shepard took a few steps closer and looked down. Already Hope-Singer had scaled a dozen yards. A few dozen more and she'd be lost in the darkness.

Finally the songs of the rachni queen faded from his mind and he was left alone. Already he could feel the headache building behind his eyes once more, but this time it didn't bother him. It was a pain that he knew. One that couldn't hold him back any longer. Still he couldn't help but start when a silky turian voice spoke behind him.

Shepard...

He spun and raised his gun but found no one there.

"No. No more games!" Shepard snapped at the air through gritted teeth. "No more dreams, no more songs, no more whispers!"

Mocking laughter rang in his ears.

You have fought too hard to die in this place. Submit to the inevitable and you can live. Take the place that should have been mine. Serve the Reapers and maybe you'll find a way to save your precious collection of misfits.

"Save them for what? So that they can become indoctrinated monsters like you?"

You claim to love them, but you condemn them all to die fighting a war that can't be won.

"No, a war you didn't believe could be won. And every night in my dreams you've been trying to convince me of the same thing."

I merely showed you what you already knew.

His omni-tool beeped repeatedly. Motion sensors turned his local map into a sea of contacts. Shepard lifted the heavy machinegun a final time, settling the weapon against his hip and disabling the safety. Clicks and screeches began to echo from every tunnel.

"You showed me what they knew. We're not playing by the Reaper's rules anymore. No surprise attack on the Citadel. No galaxy to be picked apart piecemeal. Instead they've got a united galaxy to face. Asari. Turians. Krogan. Soon the rachni will come."

The voice changed, less Saren's mocking rasp now and more of a resonating bass. It was an odd contrast to the petulant denial that followed.

They will fall without you!

"They won't. That was always Saren's mistake... he thought he was better than everyone else. That he had to save everyone from themselves," Shepard replied to the voice. "But I didn't recruit a team of followers and sycophants. They know what needs to be done."

Pain stabbed through his head, almost causing him to double over but he stood firm.

Die here and we will find another. Live and you will serve us... it is inevitable.

"Then you try and find another. I'll be laughing from the other side when Garrus puts a bullet in whatever poor bastard you choose."

The voice in his head was almost a snarl now, bestial and full of rage.

So be it!

Much to his surprise the pain abated. He was all too aware of the sweat rolling down his face. Maybe it was some odd sense of mercy on the part of the Reapers but he doubted it. Whatever power they'd tried to exert over him had failed. He was no longer worth their time. Another failed tool to be discarded like Saren or the Collectors. At least he could take satisfaction in the fact that he hadn't given them what they wanted. When push came to shove he'd meet his end free.

Shepard shook his head to clear his vision and saw the first dark form of a rachni warrior appear from a side tunnel. He drew his pistol with his off hand and fired off a single shot that caught the beast between it's many eyes. It collapsed without a sound. The vanguard of their advance. Holstering the pistol, his comm crackled to life a final time.

"Spirits, where the hell are you, Shepard?" Garrus asked.

"Have you extracted?"

"Shuttles are here! You didn't answer my question! Rachni are burrowing out of the damn ground up here. We're not going to be able to stay here long!"

Automatic weapons fire carried over their channel as well as cursing and the occasional krogan roar. He sighed and tapped his omni-tool to make sure he was locked into Garrus' private channel. He kept his voice level when he replied. A simple statement of the facts.

"Garrus, I'm not going to make it to the extraction point. It's time for you to get out of here."

The response was immediate.

"Fuck that! I'm not leaving without you, Boss!"

"You're the boss now. I'm giving you one last order. Get everyone off this planet and show the Reapers that nothing is going to stop us. That their cycle ends with this generation."

"We can hold out, you just need to move! We can get the shuttles to do flyovers..."

"No flyovers. No rescue missions. I'm still underground, Garrus. Buying the queen time to get away so she can wake up her daughters. You'll have your army."

The turian sounded bewildered as he spoke, clearly trying to make sense of what he was hearing and failing.

"Why? Why the hell do you have to do this?"

He laughed bitterly. "I had to make a choice, Garrus. I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend to you the last few months. It took me this long to figure things out."

"I don't understand," Garrus growled over the comm, his voice filled with confusion.

"Feels like a lifetime ago that we sat in the cargo bay and you told me that Saren and I weren't similar. You were right. I'm not going to go down the same path as Saren. He didn't know when he was lost or couldn't admit it if he did, and he turned into something he hated. But if I don't make the right decision now... I will too. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

There was a pause. Around him he could feel the pressure of countless bodies as the rachni closed in. Garrus' voice was a strained rasp when he finally responded.

"Dammit, Shepard... why didn't you say something. Tell someone... tell me..."

"You know me. Stubborn to the end, making varren look reasonable and krogans look like kindly social workers," he replied wryly.

The turian's laugh was weak. "You did out stubborn Wrex a few times."

Another loud screech. Like a hunting call.

"They're coming and I'm out of time... get back to the Normandy and do what needs to be done."

"Spirits take you, Shepard... this wasn't how it was supposed to go," his friend replied, voice choked. "We were supposed to see this thing through to the end. Shepard and Vakarian."

His own reply nearly caught in his throat, but despite it he smiled.

"I know. At least I can say that I've known what it was like to have a brother. That's more than I could ever have hoped for. Good luck, old friend."

He cut the line, trusting Garrus to follow his final orders and letting his finger come to rest on the trigger of his weapon. The first wave of rachni were pouring from every available opening, some evening burrowing from the surrounding stone. A thousand claws and pincers. But despite it all he felt a sense of relief for the first time in months when he squeezed the trigger.

The weapon roared to life in his hands.


"Good luck, old friend."

Garrus slammed a fist against the shuttle's bulkhead and gave a low, mournful sound that was lost in the din of combat. Mounted guns on the side of the shuttles beat out a steady rhythm that drove back the swarming rachni when they emerged, but each time the rachni surged again within minutes.

Thoughts ripped through his head like rabid varren. His instincts told him to jump out of the shuttle go after Shepard despite the man's orders. Damn the consequences. Brother, Shepard had called him. What kind of man leaves his brother behind? But ironically it was memories of time spent with Shepard that stopped him.

"Why? Spirits! He was mine, Shepard!"

The Spectre crossed his arms over his chest and merely leaned against the Mako while Garrus ranted. For the entire shuttle ride back to the Normandy from the Fedele he had quietly seethed only to finally snap when they set foot on the deck.

"Two months of fighting together! Covering each others backs! And then when I ask you to help me stop Saelon once and for all..."

Garrus growled and knocked a toolbox from where it rested on the Mako's bumper.

"You done?" Shepard asked.

He could only gape at the human's audacity and even felt his fingers curling reflexively. Anyone else would likely have taken a step back from such an obviously angry turian. Fingers that ended in talons tended to make most people nervous.

"Done?" he repeated lamely.

"Yea, done. I can let you keep ranting for a little while if it gets it out of your system."

"Get it out of my system?" the turian snarled and took step closer. "Saleon got away from me once. And since then he's been... butchering people from the inside out!"

Now the human reacted, even if it was without haste, by pushing himself off of the tank and squaring his shoulders. There was no relaxation in his posture or gaze now, meeting Garrus' eyes with his chin up and without flinching.

"You're right, he did. So why are you so pissed at me? He's dead now, isn't he?"

"Of course he's dead, you splattered his brains all over that spirits-be-damned lab of his. You ordered me not to shoot him!"

"I did. And you followed my orders despite your personal feelings. Which was a good thing."

"And then you shot him yourself!"

"Also true."

With a bestial snarl he directed his attentions to the Mako, raking his talons across the fresh paint and leaving two long scratches. Once he got control of himself he looked back at the infuriating human he'd started calling his friend.

"Why, dammit? Why?"

Shepard cocked a brow. "I could ask you the same thing. Why did you want to shoot him?"

"Because he was a twisted son of a bitch. Because he's spent years lying and cheating his way out of justice, playing the system."

"But he's dead now. He won't hurt anyone ever again. Why does it matter who shot him?"

The turian jabbed a taloned finger at Shepard. "He was my target! My responsibility! I let him escape last time and then... you saw the inside of that place. It was..."

"Horrific?" the Spectre supplied.

"As good a word as any."

"I still haven't heard why justice wasn't served by the fact that I was the one that pulled the trigger."

"Because it was my fault!" Garrus roared.

There was the barest quirk of Shepard's lips at the latest outburst. He had learned in his years at C-Sec that humans had maddeningly expressive faces, the smallest shifts and movements often betraying their inner thoughts. Even though they were alien he had always found them easier to read than his own people. His new commanding officer had been an exception in most occasions but this small tick told him that he'd finally stumbled into whatever verbal trap the man had laid.

"Your fault, hmm? Sounds like guilt to me, Garrus."

He sighed and ran his talons across his fringe. "Why does it matter?"

Shepard's posture relaxed once more and he resumed his casual lean against the Mako.

"It matters because you were talking about justice and looking for revenge. You wanted to absolve yourself of the guilt you felt for letting him escape."

"What if I did?" he shot back, but could already feel his anger deflating.

"Then you should have at least been honest with yourself. I shot him because your reasoning was right, but your motivation wasn't," Shepard said quietly. "I made the decision out of necessity."

"Maybe you're right. It doesn't exactly make me feel better, Shepard," he admittedly grudgingly.

"Neither would have shooting Saleon. Because once you start killing because it makes you feel better…that's when you've become the thing you were supposed to be hunting."

This time it was Garrus that crossed his arms over his chest, examining the human across from him carefully.

"What you're saying is that making the hard choice shouldn't be a matter of what you want..."

"It should be a matter of what needs to be done. One day it'll be you having to make the calls, Garrus. When it comes down to the line you might have to choose between what you want and what you know is the right choice."

The last of his anger faded and he felt his mandibles curve slightly in a smirk.

"Okay, Shepard. But I think you're overestimating my chances at ever becoming the one in charge. I've never been big on leadership. Might have something to do with always arguing with it."

The human laughed.

His voice almost cracked when he barked out orders at their pilot.

"Cortez, we're leaving."

"Sir?" the man said in surprise, looking over his shoulder at Garrus.

"You heard me. Radio the other shuttles and get us back to the Normandy."

"What in the name of the ancestors are you doing, Garrus?" Tali demanded, practically leaping from her seat to confront him. "Shepard and Grunt haven't made it to the surface yet!"

A sudden roar from the krogan caught his attention long enough to drag it away from the incensed quarian. To his astonishment, a massive figure appeared from one of the tunnels, dragging itself to its feet. Grunt. The krogan was covered from head to toe in gore and stumbled as he walked, but he was alive. His momentary elation only made the immediate realization after all the more painful. Shepard had sent Grunt out because he knew that the krogan had a chance to make it when he didn't. Krogan warriors were already dragging Grunt into the shuttle.

"Grunt made it!" the quarian cried. "Shepard can't be far behind!"

Garrus winced and yelled towards the cockpit once more. "Shut the doors and get us airborne, Cortez!"

A fresh wave of rachni followed after Grunt. More of these were the deadly variety already upgraded by the Reapers and he could already hear the sound of explosions against the shuttle's hull. Cortez looked back at him again, clearly torn.

"Sir, the Commander-"

"Shepard isn't coming!" the turian snarled. "We won't be leaving either if they hit our engines! I gave you an order, Cortez, now follow it!"

"Yes, sir."

Tali looked between pilot and sniper frantically.

"You can't leave him behind!"

"He ordered me to!"

"I don't care what he ordered you to do, you turian bosh'tet!" Tali yelled and lunged for the shuttle door.

He caught her easily with an arm around her waist, bodily dragging her back. A knee caught him in the stomach hard enough to knock some of the wind out of him, but Tali's Pilgrimage training wasn't nearly a match for his years of hand-to-hand combat training. Garrus looked to Kasumi with desperate eyes. All he could do was hope that she would trust him.

"Keep her in her seat!"

"What the hell is going on, Garrus?" Kasumi hissed.

The thief wrapped her arms around Tali as the quarian tried to make another grab for the door while the shuttle's engines roared to life. Within moments the ship pulled away from the planet below as the swarm of corrupted rachni grew. Tali cried out in denial, her voice becoming a choked repetition of 'why, why' before she finally ceased her struggles. Kasumi looked at him again, eyes repeated the question she had just asked.

His response came out as little more than a whisper in the sudden silence.

"I had to make the right decision... instead of the one I wanted."


Acid splashed against the Typhoon's armored shield, a few droplets splattering against his face. The liquid made him hiss in pain as it burned, but he ignored it, pouring more fire into the nearest drone. Warning tones bleated from the heavy weapon as the constant fire and damage from the rachni acid taxed it beyond its limit. It ejected a spent heatsink one last time and then gave a high-pitched whine as its internal mechanisms seized.

Shepard cursed and swung the gun wide, slamming it into a charging warrior hard enough that he could hear its chitinous shell crack. He hurled the now useless weapon at another rachni and drew his submachine gun. A pair of controlled bursts put down the other two warriors that were closing to tear into him with their vicious claws.

He heard the brief hum just in time to turn aside, but not quickly enough to escape the blast. One of the fully mutated warriors caught him with a single shot from the bizarre cannons grafted to its upper body. There was a crack as his kinetic barriers gave way and he was sent flying backwards by the force of the blast, tumbling a few meters before he stopped himself. When the Spectre stood he could feel his right foot scrape against the edge of the crevice. Nowhere else to retreat to.

The rachni paused for a moment, circling. Without a queen to guide them their intelligence might have been animalistic at best, but they understood the position he was in just like any predator. A few of the closest warriors reared and screeched at him. From the rear he could see others positioning themselves and lowering their grafted weapons. Thin red targeting lasers were visible in the clouds of dust that had risen in the battle. But they didn't charge yet.

"Come on then," the Spectre growled, shoving himself to his feet and wiping blood away from his newly split lip.

Each rachni suddenly stopped moving completely, the teeming mass becoming statues in an instant. The cybernetics that twisted their bodies flared brighter for a moment and he could feel a sudden weight on his mind.

Submit. You have seen what is to come. Serve and embrace your salvation.

The deep bass voice in his thoughts once more. One more desperate attempt to draw him in, but Shepard merely shook his head. His hands dropped to his belt, fingers quickly finding what he was looking for. One small, round charge in each hand, activated when he pressed the trigger with his thumb. Each explosive began to beep and in the sudden lull in the fighting half a dozen more beeps echoed throughout the cavern as if answering his call.

Your sacrifice means nothing!

"Maybe not to you. But I'm finished listening to whispers."

You will serve. The cycle cannot be broken.

"Watch me."

Shepard's mouth curled into a feral grin and he stabbed his thumbs down on the two explosives a second time. The beeping reached a blistering crescendo and he hurled each device at the front ranks of the rachni swarm. He had long enough to hear the deafening howl of anger in his mind before all sound was washed away in the explosion.

Fire and sound rushed towards him and he felt his feet leave the ground from the force of the blast. He didn't see where he was going but he could feel heat of the flames and then sudden weightlessness as he fell into the darkness.

I made my choice.


I'm back after a hiatus, hope you all missed me. The above is the chapter that you were originally going to be left with before my little vacation. Just wanted to say I appreciate everyone that's reviewed, especially those of you that have been with me for the long haul. Always happy to hear from my readers!