A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time out to leave feedback on the previous chapter. This has been just as difficult to write as it is to read, and I'm sorry I can't bring the joy that our community needs right now. However I can say that I always write with the bigger picture in mind. The Fate series still has a long way to go. So, if I still have your attention, then the story continues...
Chapter Forty-Five
The Weight of Grief
Omega, Sahrabarik
"What the fuck, Cheerleader?"
Although barely a whisper, the sound of Jack's voice roused Miranda from sleep. She sat up, orientating herself in strange surrounds. Somehow she'd fallen asleep in a chair, slumped forward against Jack's bed. If that situation wasn't embarrassing enough, the muscles in her neck and back were painfully taut. Miranda rose to her feet and busied herself with stretching. She was grateful for the distraction, well aware that Jack was staring at her with an expression of disgust. Miranda didn't blame Jack for having the reaction. She herself was finding it difficult to believe that she'd barely left Jack's beside since they'd arrived on Omega.
Still, disgust was a good sign. It meant that Jack had regained consciousness with her faculties and idiosyncrasies fully intact, straight back into her favourite sport – baiting the Cheerleader. Out of habit – and continuing embarrassment - Miranda studied the displays on the instruments next to the bed. Everything was positive. All of Jack's vitals were strong and stable.
If the events on Mindoir hadn't already been enough, then the relief that flooded Miranda's body told her exactly why she'd stayed at Jack's bedside. She fucking cared about Jack. The other biotic was a walking definition of a psychotic shit, but she cared about her. And Jack knew it.
Despite her miraculous survival, Jack still looked impossibly frail lying back against the bed. Her hair was lank, drooping partially over her forehead. It was only when Miranda's hand twitched, that she realised she wanted to reach out and smooth the clump of hair back. Mercifully she stopped herself. She gratefully sank back into her chair.
"So I wake up…and you're sleeping next to me." Jack had to pause and swallow. Despite the obvious pain she was in, Jack's voice was surprisingly audible. "Tell me you didn't fucking safe my life too?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Miranda replied in a curt voice. "You saved yourself."
The answer appeared to satisfy Jack. Her face creased with concern. "The colonists? The rest of my garrison?"
"Two questions, that's all. I answer them and you have to promise to stop talking and rest. Do we have a deal?"
"Not promising you shit," Jack muttered in a sullen whisper.
Miranda arched an eyebrow. Jack rolled her eyes before eventually responding with a slow nod.
"Bar a few dozen who didn't make it into shelter in the first place, the colonists are all fine. Believe it or not, they're currently enjoying Aria T'Loak's hospitality here on Omega. I haven't been keeping up with the latest plans because…well, I haven't-" She'd been far too busy watching over Jack like a hawk to pay attention to any other details. It'd been eight hours since they'd arrived on Omega and she'd barely spoken to another soul other than the hacks that passed for doctors. "-but they're safe and that's all that matters in the current climate."
"Mission objective achieved," Jack quipped quietly. "And the garrison?"
Unfortunately Miranda had very little good news on that front. The garrison of misfits and FNGs that Jack had presided over had been wiped out almost to a man. When she tried to open her mouth to reply, the words stuck in her throat. Finch's boyish face was stuck in her memory.
"The cost of achieving that mission objective," Miranda replied. "Besides you and I, there are a handful left. Parker, Rousmaniere, just three others."
Jack closed her eyes. A deep, rattling sigh left her lips. This time Miranda made no attempt to stop herself from reaching out to lay her hand atop Jack's. Both of their hands were icy cold. When Jack made no attempt to draw away, Miranda squeezed firmly – reassuring herself just as much as Jack.
While she hadn't declared it out loud, Miranda inherently knew that her short-lived career in the Alliance Navy was over. She couldn't help but view this as a colossal failure on her part. A decorated career and rising through the ranks had never been her intention, but she had at least hoped to do some good. Of course saving Mindoir's colonists counted, but in the galactic scheme of things it was small compared to overthrowing the corrupt regime at the head of the Alliance. Kessler and his cronies were still very much in power and she was stuck in limbo on Omega.
Jack's hand twitched slightly, indicating that the hand holding had gone on long enough. Miranda withdrew, resorting to sitting on her hands in an attempt to restore some semblance of warmth. Her train of thought drove her thoughts towards the maudlin. Despite her promise to Ash that they would find a way to have a normal relationship, Miranda knew how vital it was that Ash kept her position within the Alliance. Ash had the respect of the grunts and, despite all the shit she'd pulled over the past few months, the brass still had faith in her. The whole situation was balanced on a knife edge…and Miranda hated it. Not only the fact that events conspired to keep her apart from Ash, but that she was in such a mess to begin with. To have her hopes and joys so intimately entwined with those of another, went against the precepts she had always lived her life by. She even found herself wondering whether it would have been easier to deny Ash forgiveness.
Miranda's rumbling stomach drew her attention back to the present - thankfully reminding her that she wasn't exactly in a space where she could give into her thoughts. After the hand-holding incident and the prolonged silence, Miranda didn't dare meet Jack's gaze. She rose to her feet, her body protesting at this new movement.
"I'm going to find something that passes for food on this shithole," Miranda announced. "Can I get you anything?"
"Yeah, a fuck ton of booze," Jack was quick to reply.
Against her better judgement, Miranda smiled. She managed to look up to find that Jack was wearing a weak grin of her own. "Not happening. I'll find you some lemonade or a juice box."
"Whoop-de-fucking doo dah," Jack scoffed.
The smile remained on Miranda's face as she headed for the door. The anxiety of the past day was behind her. Jack would live to fight another day.
"Have you spoken to Captain Perfect?"
Miranda paused just inside the threshold of the room. Despite its obvious nature, the question caught her off-guard. It stirred an entirely different anxiety that she had managed to push to the back of her mind. If she let herself speak about Ash, then she wouldn't be able to think about anything else.
"Two questions, Jack. That's three," she said looking over her shoulder.
Jack shook her head to the extent that she could manage. "This is a personal question, Lawson. I don't need to ask how you are, you look fucking awful. Just spill, or I'll crawl out of this bed and beat it out of you."
"Fine," Miranda replied tersely. She softened slightly as she continued, "I spoke to Ash yesterday, before she hit the ground."
"And?" Jack rolled her eyes in frustration. "What? You forgave her?"
Miranda nodded emphatically. She paused for a few moments before speaking. A smile touched her lips. "I forgave her the moment she confessed. It just took me a little time to admit it."
Jack made a fake retching sound. "You make me sick. Go get my damn lemonade."
In the wake of the Cerberus occupation, the one thing that Omega had plenty of was housing. Civilians that had either died or fled to greener pastures had left behind their apartments. No one could claim that it was luxurious, but to those colonists that had been saved from Mindoir, the shelter offered a welcome respite from the hell they'd left behind.
Although it was obvious on the surface, Shepard couldn't quite understand why she felt so personally responsible for the welfare of these people. She had no real experience with what they were going through, no understanding of what they had lost. Yet it was important for her to stand amongst them. She needed to hear for herself that they felt safe, despite having been brought to a place that most would only have heard stories about. None of them likely to be good, Shepard thought, feeling as though she had failed them already.
The unexpected sound of children's laughter reached her ears. When she found the source, Shepard had to smile. Samara was surrounded by a bevy of human children, most of whom did not come up to the asari's waist. Samara's expression betrayed absolutely nothing as the kids clamoured to ask her questions, their enthusiasm undaunted by the traumatic experience that they had just been through.
"There would be no purpose in utilising my biotics at this point in time," Samara explained to her rapt audience. "It is suffice to say that they exist regardless of whether or not I engage in a demonstration for your benefit."
"Is that a hint of exasperation I detect in your voice?" Shepard asked as she approached.
Samara looked up. "It is not. The continued demand that I demonstrate my biotics however is futile. Such powers are not merely for show."
"Nevertheless, you have quite a fan club."
Shepard reached out to ruffle the hair of a young boy hanging back slightly. He looked up at her with an expression that was halfway between fascination and fear.
"My Dad said they can control your mind," he whispered. "Is it true?"
Shepard crouched down to his eye level. "Not in the slightest." Unless you happen to fall in love with one, she mused to herself. "They may look different, but they're just like us. You don't realise it, but you're looking at one of the bravest asari in the Galaxy. She helped Shepard stop the Reapers. So if Shepard trusted her, you should trust her too."
The kid looked back towards Samara with rapt adoration on his face. With a grin forming on her face, Shepard stood up.
"If you all sit down and be quiet," Shepard addressed the kids. "I'm sure Samara will tell you a story or two."
Finally Samara's expression wavered slightly. Shepard couldn't tell whether it was alarm or resignation. Regardless, she didn't regret it as the kids began folding themselves into sitting positions at Samara's feet. One little girl was tugging on the justicar's hand in an effort to get her to sit with them. As Samara eventually gave in, Shepard continued walking. No doubt she would be on the receiving end of Samara's detached reprimands later. In that moment, as the kids' faces lit up with expectation, she didn't care.
The older generations of colonists were less likely to be able to ignore what had just happened to them. Having left behind their entire lives on Mindoir, their faces reflected their uncertainty about their future. Some sat and talked in small groups in the street. They continued to talk in the unguarded manner of those used to living their lives in a tight knit community. Shepard couldn't help but overhear their conversations. She stopped next to a group of men who were warming their hands over a heat lamp. They nodded in acknowledgement, but continued talking.
"I sunk every credit I had into that damn farm. Should've stayed. Rebuilt."
"Better you than me, Morgan," added another. "Most of our garrison was wiped out trying to fight those bastards off. If them, or anyone else like 'em, came back for round two you'd be a sitting duck. Nah, I reckon we're better off here."
"The Alliance will send replacements," Morgan argued stubbornly. "They're not just going to give up Mindoir without a fight. They didn't the last time around, they won't this time."
"In case you've forgotten already, it wasn't the Alliance that came to the rescue. I'm damn sure it was a bunch of asari that saved our asses."
"It was a bunch of asari that saved your asses," Shepard commented quietly. They all looked towards her, weary expressions on their faces. "But your own garrison gave their lives to buy you time. There's no such thing as us and them anymore. It's just us."
"You may speak the truth, stranger," one sighed. "And I'm grateful, to the asari and to those that died, but I'm scared. Scared for myself and my kids." He made a pointed motion of looking at their surroundings. "We may be safe, but this is no place for them to spend their childhood."
"You're not going to be abandoned here," Shepard tried to reassure them. "Plans are already underway to help you resettle somewhere else."
"With all due respect, who you are you? How can you say that with any certainty?"
Shepard smiled sadly. "I'm no one. Just a concerned friend. Have you all had enough to eat? Warm clothes?"
"I dunno if I'd call it food as such, but my belly's full," the one named Morgan replied. He looked young, the sort of guy who had a couple of kids and everything to live for. "Hey, this is going to sound weird, but has anyone ever told you that you look a hell of a lot like The Shepard?"
"You're the first," Shepard replied, truthfully enough. "I might take it as a compliment…if that woman didn't insist on having such awful haircuts."
Every single face stared at her with an expression that suggested she had just said something offensive. Shepard managed an awkward smile, supposing she should be flattered that the colonists thought so highly of her memory. It was something of a head trip however.
Shepard decided to excuse herself before she let anything slip. Although she knew that it was only a matter of time before her identity did get out, she needed it to be on her own terms. Or at least the terms that Liara decided were right.
The colonists' conversation continued without her as she walked away.
"Since when were you best friends with Commander Shepard?"
"Did I say I was? I just said she looked a little like her, that's it. Shit, it was an observation."
"Well it's bloody ridiculous. The Shepard was killed when the Crucible fired. Everyone knows that."
Not dead. Just out of her depth, Shepard thought. The back of her neck suddenly tingled. Most of the time she paid only cursory attention to this instinct, enough at least to keep her out of trouble, as there was always someone watching on Omega. However she was drawn to glance upwards, picking out two figures observing the colonists from a gangway above the street. She recognised them easily, grateful that none of the colonists had realised that Aria T'Loak herself was watching from above.
Shepard was hardly surprised. This was Aria's realm. Anything that upset the equilibrium to such an extent required close oversight. Nor was Shepard surprised to find Kurin standing at Aria's side. There was no desire to pry on her part, but it was an unlikely pairing. The Queen of Omega and a commando from one of Thessia's most notable families.
She invited herself to stand with them, earning absolutely no reaction from Aria and a brief, awkward nod from Kurin. The latter discreetly shuffled a pace to the right – putting more distance between herself and Aria.
Shepard bent over the railing in a lazy fashion. Though the company hardly warranted letting her guard down, she at least wanted to create the illusion that all of this came easily to her. From the vantage point the colonists looked even smaller, more desperate. She felt guilty for thinking they looked like animals in a zoo.
The one thing she wouldn't do was say thank you. Although Aria's motivations remained unclear, Shepard knew that Omega's ruler had not done this in order to be thanked any more than she had done it out of the goodness of her heart.
"Shepard." Aria finally offered up some sort of greeting. It was hardly friendly. "Do you enjoy making Omega into one giant target for your friends on Earth?"
"Omega has always been a target," Shepard replied. "This doesn't change anything."
"This changes everything. It looks like I'm choosing sides." Aria was unimpressed as she turned to look at Shepard, her gaze like daggers. She waved her hand dismissively at the colonists. "All of this…rubbish, looks bad for business. As though I'm opening up Omega to refugees out of some benevolent desire to start helping the Galaxy as opposed to bleeding it dry."
"Isn't that why you're doing it?" The resulting look on Aria's face amused her. "The Aria I know would have left them to rot on Mindoir."
"They're collateral – plain and simple. Security against the day the Alliance tries to come here and fuck my shit up."
"As tempting as it is, the Alliance can't afforded to be interested in Omega except in terms of Shepard's whereabouts." Kurin broke her silence. "You're a good person. Plain and simple."
Shepard had to swallow a delighted chuckle – watching half a dozen reactions pass across Aria's face within a few seconds. Brows narrowed, gaze burning, jaw tight. The expected violence never emerged. Instead Aria folded her arms across her chest as she scowled down at the colonists. The one place she did not look, was towards Kurin.
"You make me hate myself," Aria muttered moments later.
As much as Shepard enjoyed the exchange, she didn't like the manner in which Aria's fingers tapped out an impatient rhythm on her bicep.
"Kurin is right about one thing. Your whereabouts." Aria turned to face Shepard. "Anyone with half a brain looking for you will view this as conclusive proof that you're here. I hope this doesn't mean that you're no longer leaving."
Shepard shook her head. "This only makes it more urgent to put distance between myself and Omega as soon as possible. As soon as I hear that Williams has things wrapped up on Chasca, Liara and I will be out of your non-existent hair. I'll trust you to keep the colonists safe until we can find them a more permanent home."
"You're a presumptuous little shit, Shepard. You've just reminded me exactly I wasn't sorry when I found out you were dead." Aria's voice betrayed nothing. She jerked her chin dismissively towards the huddled masses below. "I'll keep them fed and watered. Collateral remember?"
Shepard decided to quit while she was ahead, offering up a simple nod in response. Heavy, thudding footsteps on the gangway drew everyone's attention. It was Hanek, his urgent pace hinting that something was wrong. A datapad was clutched in his meaty fist.
"That…thing you were looking for, Aria," Hanek began, casting a suspicious glance in Shepard's direction. "I've found out where it went."
"Did you know that Myke managed to sneak aboard the Normandy?"
Liara looked towards Shepard standing in the doorway, her brow deeply furrowed and fingers poised, unmoving, above the haptic interface. Shepard regretted springing the question on her bondmate so suddenly, but she had needed to ask the question to convince herself that it really had happened. Myke was undoubtedly strong-willed, but the audacity to stowaway on an Alliance vessel? Shepard would have laughed had the whole situation not been so serious.
"I…no." Liara's chagrin was obvious.
"Aria's people picked her up on a two-day old security feed. I think we can assume that someone on board the Normandy found her, although not in time to do anything other than take her with them."
The markings above Liara's eyes rose sharply. "Clearly I have not been giving her enough credit. Goddess, as...irksome as she sometimes is, I would hate for anything to happen to her. And I know how much she means to you."
"Myke is resourceful, and Ash won't see her come to any harm." It surprised Shepard just how reassured she was that Myke was in safe hands. "I just wouldn't want to be the little scamp when she returns. Aria was furious when she found out. If I didn't know better, I'd think she cared about Myke."
"Undoubtedly," Liara commented, turning her attention back to her screens. "Which brings me to the Normandy. I have been trying to contact them for several hours, unsuccessfully. I instinctively feel that they are there, but are maintaining radio silence for some reason."
"Ash knows what she's doing," Shepard said in a determined voice. She followed the direction of Liara's gaze, searching the feeds on each of the screens. "Is there anything at all from Chasca? The other colonies that were attacked?"
A shadow fell over Liara's face. "That is the matter I wanted to bring to your attention. There have been no reports from any of the major news networks. However five minutes ago, this recording came to my attention." Liara used several of the screens to bring up a grainy video feed. "It was uploaded using an encrypted network, no doubt having been routed through several locations before being broadcast. It has undoubtedly come to the Alliance's attention, but is yet to appear on any news feeds in Alliance space."
"Why are they sitting on it?"
"I do not know, but it is…inflammatory to say the least."
Shepard felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as the video began to play. Although she had never been to Chasca, she recognised the planet instantly with its inimitable twilight. The view panned across the landscape. Blasted, hollow shells of buildings still smouldered. Lines of bent-backed colonists were being herded towards waiting transport ships, silently awaiting their fate of being sold into slavery. Shepard felt her nails dig into her palm as her fist tightened.
While the level of destruction did not compare to what she had witnessed during the Reaper War, Shepard could clearly see the ferocity of the assault. And for what? Simple greed?
"Why the hell was Chasca attacked?" She could hear the anger in her own tone. "There's nothing there other than scientists and colonists trying to create some sort of life for themselves. Civilians, Liara!" She drew in a breath, trying to focus on what mattered. "Did you manage to find out if Ash's sister is safe?"
"Not yet. I have yet to examine the video. However you will want to keep watching."
The camera came to a stop, focusing in on the back of a lone figure – unmistakably Batarian, wearing blood red armour. He turned. The first thought that entered Shepard's head was of unbridled cruelty. The twist to his lips, all four eyes seeming to pierce the screen.
{Do you enjoy watching your civilisation burn? Your people be enslaved?} His voice was a barely audible rasp. {Are you standing there asking yourself what I could possibly hope to achieve with this series of attacks? I want nothing other than your suffering. The knowledge that you caused this through your actions. My name is Varek Kor'Amon. I lead the Vash'Bahak and I claim responsibility for the attacks against human worlds. I will not stop until I have wiped out 300,000 of your kind…just as you so cruelly wiped out mine.}
Even as the video cut to static, Shepard was unable to draw her gaze away from the screen. "It sounded almost as though he was…"
The insinuation behind his words had been so blatant, Shepard didn't see how the Batarian could possibly be referring to anyone else.
"He was talking to me," Shepard continued, closing her eyes for a moment. She opened them and looked at Liara. "How the hell does that son of a bitch know I'm alive?"
"I am afraid that is just one of our problems…albeit a significant one-"
"I should bloody think so," Shepard interrupted for a moment.
"However it is still simply knowledge. Our concern needs to lie with the practicalities – who is bankrolling this Vash'Bahak-"
"And that means?"
"The Brotherhood of Bahak."
Shepard rolled her eyes. "Of course it does."
"It is clear that the bulk of the forces attacking over the previous days were mercenaries. It is simply not possible for the entire operation to have been bankrolled by the Batarian government. All of my intel indicates that they are still in considerable disarray…anarchy almost – which creates fertile breeding ground for such a movement, but explains little else." Liara paused and looked Shepard in the eye. "The impact of these events will have huge ramifications for the Galaxy, but most significantly in terms of the Alliance and their policies on Earth. I do not need to tell you what that means."
"Fear, panic…justification of the Alliance's xenophobia. Widespread popular support." Shepard stated the obvious. "Where do we stand on tracking the roots of this movement, putting an end to it before it can cause real chaos?"
"That is where I do not have a great deal of good news," Liara replied in a sober voice. "I have agents working to trace the originating signal of the video, but that is merely a first step. Whatever this is, I fear it is a much larger beast."
Shepard sighed. "Then until you give me a target, there's not a great deal I can do."
"It was never simply a case of giving you a target, Evan," Liara admonished slightly.
"Fine, I know that. I was just breaking down into something that a dumb grunt can understand."
"We can argue why that is not true at a later date. When was the last time you slept?"
Honestly unable to remember, Shepard merely offered up a shrug. It was only now that she was forced to think about it, she realised that it must have been some time ago.
"You should rest."
"A couple of hours then."
Liara nodded. "I will wake you if there are any developments."
Shepard made it as far as her bed. Almost ten minutes later she had yet to strip any of her clothes off or make a move to lie down. She simply sat, staring out of the window as though the view could offer some sort of wisdom. Varek Kor'Amon's message played on a loop in her head. The threats a stark reminder of what had happened on Aratoht. The events that had unfolded there haunted her nightmares. Even if she wanted to forget, she couldn't. Often she found herself playing out different scenarios in her head. Mostly asking herself whether it would have been possible to save the system and its colonists. The fact that she came to the same conclusion every time, hardly helped her conscience. Even if she had been able to warn the colonists, most wouldn't have been able to escape in time.
We do what we have to do.
She was still sitting and thinking when the tap of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. Shepard looked up to see Liara standing in the doorway with an unreadable expression on her face. Something compelled Shepard to stand.
"Evan…we are about to have our answers," Liara announced quietly. "The Normandy is docking now."
You're going to need this, Chief…Are you good to go?...Well stay close then.
All Sam could think about were those chaotic moments on Chasca. The last few moments that Ashley had been alive – helping her back to her feet, telling her to stay close. Sam couldn't remember much of what had followed from that point, her reality had been overwhelmed by the explosion, but she had the very clear image of Ash reacting instinctively. She couldn't shake the thought that Ash had died to save her life.
{You requested to be informed when we docked, Samantha.} EDI's voice startled Sam out of her thoughts.
"Yeah, I guess did," Sam replied wearily.
{And Mycea Kasos is looking for you. She is quite insistent}
Sam wasn't hiding - although she supposed that folding herself away between storage crates in the shuttle bay could be considered as such. And it certainly wasn't that she was trying to avoid Myke. She had just wanted a quiet space to be alone with her thoughts. If Sam were being utterly honest, she felt that being with Myke was a greater degree of comfort than she deserved. Sam was punishing herself for having survived.
"Please let Myke know where to find me, EDI."
Sam hauled herself to her feet, belatedly wondering whether she ought to have done something with her appearance. She'd briefly checked in with Chakwas to confirm that she didn't have any life threatening injuries. At some point Myke had made her scrub the grime from her face. And that was it. She was still wearing the compression suit she'd worn on Chasca. The painful knot in her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten for some time.
"Was it my fault, EDI?" Sam asked quietly, hardly expecting the AI to answer in any meaningful way.
{If you are referring to Captain Williams' death, it was not your fault.} EDI's reply was immediate, almost abrupt. {If there is blame to be attributed, it falls on the Captain. An analysis of her behaviour leading up to her death indicates that she was not thinking rationally. She ignored basic Alliance protocol. I conclude that her actions put your life at risk, Samantha.}
EDI's analysis did not help Sam in the slightest. If anything, it made her feel worse. "Please don't repeat that, EDI…to anyone."
{The analysis does not detract from Captain Williams' otherwise exemplary service record-}
"Just don't repeat it."
{Would it comfort you to know that the telemetry from her suit indicated that death was instantaneous?}
Sam choked back a sudden sob. "No, it doesn't. Just stop talking for fuck's sake."
{I am…sorry, Samantha. I analysed the most effective ways to provide assistance and apparently my conclusions were incorrect.} EDI explained. {I find Captain Williams' absence…difficult.}
At that point Sam realised what lay behind EDI's awkward attempts at conversation. The A.I was grieving in her own manner. And Sam had callously shut her down.
"EDI, I'm sorry. I miss her too. I'm just scared…scared about telling my friends, about what this might mean for all of us."
Myke joined her a few minutes later and Sam tried her utmost to focus on the present - on their arrival. It was hardly the sort of homecoming to be remembered. Firstly for the fact that Omega couldn't remotely be considered to be home. Secondly – more importantly – for the awful task that Sam was now faced with. Myke had asked why the task had fallen to her in the first place. Sam had honestly replied that it had to be her. These were her friends, her family. She owed it to them.
As Sam walked through the docking tube, she caught a glimpse of the welcoming party waiting to greet them. It was mercifully small. Just Liara, Captain Kurin, and Samara. Her sigh of relief was short-lived when she spotted a further figure standing apart from the trio of asari. Despite the fact that her face was shadowed by a hood, Sam immediately recognised Shepard. The one person who was not present, was Miranda Lawson.
How am I supposed to do this? Sam thought - torn between the desire to break down and cry or the need to be stoic. Somehow her feet continued to carry her forward, though it was the last destination she wanted to reach.
Sam thought she had managed to maintain some vestige of control, however something in her expression must have betrayed her. As she approached, Liara responded by moving to embrace her.
"Don't." Sam held up her hands, forming a barrier. She bit her lip, regretting her instinctive response, but knew she couldn't afford to fall apart yet.
The dissonant response alerted Shepard, who joined the small group to stand close, but not so close that Sam felt crowded.
"It is good to see you safe, Samantha," Liara said quickly, alleviating some of the tension.
"And you." Sam looked at each of them in turn, Shepard last, trying to ground herself in their solidity - that she was amongst friends. "All of you."
"The operation on Chasca-"Liara began. "It did not go as planned?"
"We were too late. Most of the colonists were taken." Sam's voice sounded mechanical to her own ears, as though she were recounting a story she had heard second-hand. She tried to hold onto that detachment. "I was with Captain Williams when she found her sister's body-" Sam made the mistake of pausing. A lump stuck in her throat and she had to force her next words free. "A second wave caught us by surprise."
"Sam?"
Shepard's soft question was accompanied by an abrupt shake of her head, almost as if willing Sam to give a different answer to the one that was on her lips. However there was only one truth. For all Sam's reluctance, and the angst-ridden expression on Shepard's face, that truth had to be said.
"Ash took the full impact of a high explosive round. She was killed instantly." Sam bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Watching the realisation dawn on the faces of her friends was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. "I'm so sorry, Shepard."
Shepard exhaled – a laborious, tremulous breath, making no attempt to hide her pain. Without hesitation, Sam stepped forward and threw her arms around Shepard's shoulders in a fierce embrace. She heard a single, choked sob against her shoulder, then she felt Shepard's shoulders tighten.
"Thank you for doing this, Sam," Shepard said as she eased out of the hug a few moments later. Her gaze then travelled in the vague direction of the Normandy. "Is she on board?"
"No." Sam felt her control start to slip. She shook her head. "Shepard…everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. The colonists. Sarah and Ash. And-" Sam hiccupped slightly. Her cheeks burned. "Captain Alves was there. She was going to execute Myke. I-I had to shoot her. Then the other marines…I don't know, it's almost as if they didn't view us as being on the same side any longer. They challenged Major Chakwas and opened fire. We have no other choice but to leave her body...to leave Ash, on Chasca."
Suddenly Sam's knees buckled. She would have crashed to the ground, but for Shepard's quick reactions.
"Hey, let go, Chief. You're safe, your job is done."
Shepard set her back on her feet. For the first time since the nightmare had unfolded on Chasca, Sam felt the crushing weight lift from her shoulders. Instead it was Shepard whose expression shifted - a resolute determination that Sam recognised all too well. Gone was any trace of the earlier grief, instead Sam saw the focussed mask worn by someone who had a job to do.
As Shepard stepped away to confer with Liara a few moments later, Sam felt overwhelmingly grateful that it was finally someone else carrying the burden. There was an accompanying sympathy of course, but she'd seen Shepard's strength of character first-hand. If anyone could rise above the tragedy, it would be Shepard.
There was a light touch on her elbow. Sam turned around to find Myke staring at her with a gentle expression. "Do you want to get out of here? You look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet."
"I'd like nothing more," Sam replied. The mere thought of wrapping herself around Myke's body and falling into a dreamless sleep made her sigh wistfully. "Just give me a moment. There's something I need to do first."
Even as Sam approached the lone figure leaning against a storage crate, she still wasn't sure what had compelled her forward. In another few seconds it was likely that she would end up floating in the middle of a singularity.
"Captain Kurin?"
Kurin responded with a slight jolt, straightening and squaring her shoulders. She didn't turn around immediately, instead reaching up to wipe her face in an unmistakable gesture. When the commando did turn, there were no traces of tears or emotion on her face. Just a blank nothingness.
"I know what you're going to say," Kurin said before Sam could open her mouth. "Whatever I felt towards Captain Williams, it is no one's affair but my own. Miranda Lawson will never find out, not by my own admission nor any of the commandos under my command."
"Oh…" Sam was taken aback, unable to respond immediately other than to shake her head. "No, that wasn't what…I just wanted to ask if you're okay? I know Ashley meant a great deal to you."
Kurin's expression flickered for a moment. It might have been surprise. Then she offered a taut nod. "I'm fine."
"Okay." Sam started to back away. She was about to turn when something stopped her. Although she could hardly consider the commando to be a friend, she hated the thought of anyone having to deal with grief alone. "If you need to talk, I'm here."
The offer came out rushed and barely coherent. It also sounded entirely pathetic and Sam felt no better for having made it, but she hoped that somehow her intentions made some sort of difference.
In seeing Kurin's façade break for a split second, Sam suspected that she had only rubbed salt into an open wound. She offered up an entirely futile nod before committing to a hurried retreat. However she could not discard the guilt that plagued her. She was able to return to Myke's side, to the welcome of a comforting embrace, while Kurin was left alone.
Liara couldn't help but feel as though she had suffered more than her fair share of loss across her short lifetime. Sometimes she thought that it ought to get easier. This state of loss, of grieving. It never did. The curse of being asari. Throughout their millennia-long lifespans they would have to watch as comrades, friends, and lovers died. Each life sometimes so short as to be a mere interlude in their own. She had lost Shepard twice. Both times had almost destroyed her.
She had long considered Ashley to be family, her loss was devastating. Yet at the same time she could not help but feel a very palpable sense of relief that it had not been Shepard. This last thought she suppressed in the face of an overwhelming sense of guilt and disgust.
She reached out to Shepard, needing to feel something tangible beneath her fingers. "We should return home."
"No," Shepard whispered, shaking her head stubbornly. She pushed away from Liara. Somehow she had to clear her head, to focus on the tasks at hand rather than give into her grief. If she did that, then she knew that she would be of no use to anyone. "Not yet. Miranda-" Her voice wobbled a little. She swallowed. "Miranda needs to hear this from me."
"I have a great deal of experience in this. Much more than any individual has any right to have," Liara ventured slowly. "I should accompany you."
Shepard shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, Li, but I think this is something I should do alone. I…know Miranda. Better than most…"
Than anyone bar Ash, was the sentence that went unspoken.
"Do you know where she is?"
"With Jack. She's hardly left the clinic. I don't know whether she's genuinely worried about Jack or if it's her way of keeping herself busy while she waited for the Normandy to come back." Shepard offered up a small shrug. "Probably a little of both."
"Her relationship with Jack seems to have changed considerably from what I can recall."
"I don't have the first clue about what happened between them on Mindoir, but I saw the aftermath. They almost died for each other down there," Shepard said quietly. "I'm not quite ready to confront Jack myself yet, not with everything that is going on, but somehow…I don't know how…I have the feeling that Jack might be the key to getting Miranda through this."
Shepard was about to leave when she felt a gentle touch on her sleeve. Liara looked at her through glassy eyes. "And I'm here to get you through this. As callous as it sounds, you can't afford to lose focus. We need to-"
"I know, Li," Shepard interrupted softly, but firmly. "I know exactly what we need to do I. But I need to do this first."
Omega's usually brilliant lights seemed washed out and dull. Even the frenetic beat of the place had slowed to crawl. Listless and empty. Much as Shepard herself felt. Although the clinic was just across the street, Shepard couldn't bring herself to move towards it. Not yet. She was all too aware of the weight of her task. It hung like a millstone around her neck, preventing her from giving into her own grief even though the pain burned like acid just beneath her skin. Shepard had to wrench her gaze away from the clinic. She turned and pressed against the barrier, leaning heavily against it as she gasped for breath. Omega's stale air hit the back of her throat.
"What the hell happened, Ash?" The question drifted out in a strangled whisper.
Shepard closed her eyes, a part of her hoping for some form of answer. The only response was the crushing reminder that she would never see Ash again. She was forced to press her fist against her lips to keep the sob from escaping. For an agonising minute, Shepard feared that she would lose control. She came back to herself, managed not to scrub at her burning eyes, and willed herself to cross the street.
Even as she set foot inside the clinic, Shepard's thoughts remained scattered. She counted it a small victory that she had managed not to break down, but that was the extent of her self-control. Everything else was a mess.
Ash didn't make it…she died – no, she was killed on Chasca. Ash is dead. I'm so sorry, Miranda. This wasn't the first time that Shepard had told someone a loved one was dead, but she'd never had to do it quite like this - when both people involved meant so much to her. The words that she knew she had to say did not sound right in her head. All your hopes for a future together, they're gone.
Rational thought disappeared. Miranda was walking towards her. It was too late for Shepard to do anything other than stand still and fix a neutral expression on her face. As she tried not to give anything away, the expression morphed into a panicked grin.
"Shepard." Miranda returned the smile, managing to make it look perfect even when she was so obviously exhausted. "If you've come to see the patient then you're ten minutes too late."
"How's she doing?"
"Fortunately…or not, depending on your point of view, Jack's going to make a full recovery. And it's likely that she'll be out of bed in a few days." Miranda's tone carried a distinct fondness as she spoke. "I trust I can count on you to help me keep her out of Afterlife?"
"That can only end badly for me," Shepard replied. For the first time she noticed that Miranda was wearing an ill-fitting set of commando leathers, no doubt loaned by one of the asari on the Pserimos. "If you can stand to leave Jack, I think you should come back to my place for a shower and a change of clothes."
Miranda looked down at herself with a self-deprecating shake of her head. "Even when I was on the run from Cerberus I still managed to hold onto a few possessions. Now I literally have nothing, not even the clothes I'm wearing." She tugged at the tight collar. "Unfortunately Captain Kurin is at least a size smaller than I am."
Definitely a change of clothes, Shepard thought as she let Miranda lead the way out of the clinic. Even though Miranda had no idea who Kurin had been to Ashley, Shepard felt sick to her stomach at the irony of it all.
Somehow her feet were moving, but she wasn't entirely sure of her reality. Surely any world that could be this cruel couldn't possibly be the reason why they were fighting. They'd all sacrificed enough, Miranda more than most. In that moment Shepard desperately didn't want to be the one to have to tell Miranda than Ash was dead. She regretted turning down Liara's offer of help. Sinking even deeper than that, Shepard regretted not being at Ash's side on Chasca – as though there was something she could have done to save her friend.
If you'd been on Chasca as opposed to Mindoir, then Miranda would be dead. This whole conversation would play out regardless, only with Ash on the receiving end. Shepard's shoulders slumped. Face it. People around you, close to you, they're going to continue dying in order to achieve this peace.
Miranda settled into step next to her. Shepard risked a glance and memorised the Miranda that she saw – tired but hopeful, untainted by the knowledge that she carried. For the first time she felt guilty that she was dragging the whole process out in an effort to be a little kinder. After all, there was nothing miraculous about a shower or a change of clothes.
"You remember when we were leaving Omega after recruiting Garrus and Mordin?" Miranda suddenly asked.
"What? No, not really." It seemed like a lifetime ago.
"We were standing in the CIC, EDI had just refused to let me board until I had the varren shit cleaned from my boot, and I swore that I would never come back here."
At another time, Shepard might have laughed. She did remember. Miranda's cold, aloof façade had seemed impenetrable. She opened her mouth to apologise for dragging Miranda back to Omega, but the worlds sounded hollow before they even left her lips.
In hindsight Shepard might have thought of the possible flaws in her plan, or that she wasn't thinking clearly enough to anticipate them. Unfortunately everything can into stark relief in the moment that a quartet of dockworkers passed them on their way to Afterlife. They were understandably raucous, looking forward to spending their hard-earned credits, completely unaware of the need to censor their conversation.
"I never get tired of seeing the Normandy sitting in that dock. She's one fine looking ship."
"Says the idiot who said we'd never see her again...twice! Yet there she is."
"C'mon, Grez! How many Alliance vessels do you see hanging around Omega? Let alone the fucking Normandy. I'd sell my own fucking child to get on board that beauty - if I had any to sell!"
"Gotta wonder what she's doing back though..."
Miranda had stopped walking with the first mention of the Normandy. Shepard had continued for several more steps before she realised Miranda wasn't following. She couldn't bring herself to turn around. Though Shepard could hear the rest of the conversation as the dockworkers drifted away, the words didn't register.
She felt a stab of pain in her hand and realised that she was clenching her fists, digging her nails into her palms. Her knuckle bones jutted out. Shepard drew a breath and turned.
Nothing could have prepared her for the look on Miranda's face. The absolute devastation.
Miranda shook her head. "You're not here to tell me that."
Shepard extended a hand towards Miranda, but she knew better than to actually make contact. Nor were there any lies that she could offer that would change anything. Miranda continued to shake her head, lips starting to tremble.
"There's no way…no bloody way…"
"Miranda..." Shepard began quietly.
"Tell me that Ash is alive...please?"
"I..." Shepard bit her lip. "I've got answers, but not here. Not like this. We need to get back to my place."
"Why?" Miranda demanded in a hoarse voice. "Will that change what you've come to tell me? Will that make Ash any less dead?" The last word was uttered with a horrible emphasis. An air of finality that shattered any vestiges of Miranda's control. "Fucking hell, Shepard, stop stalling and just say it! You owe me that much."
Shepard couldn't help but wince at Miranda's use of her name in public. She fought to keep her gaze from darting around to see if passers-by were paying attention. "Not here-"
"Why is it so difficult for you to say it?" Miranda wasn't about to be placated so easily. The colour in her cheeks brightened by the second. "Is it because you feel guilty? Because you should have been there? Ash trusted you. She believed in you."
"Ash asked me to protect you-"
"For what? So I could live for this moment that we're having right now?" Miranda continued in a whisper. She shook her head. "A life without her isn't worth living."
Desperate to do something, Shepard went against her instincts. She reached out to place both hands on Miranda's shoulders in an effort to find some sort of solidity. "That's not how Ash would want you to think."
Miranda's body shuddered beneath her touch, on the cusp of surrendering. Then the moment shattered. The next thing Shepard was aware of was flying through the air. She had a brief glimpse of Miranda, wreathed in blue, before her back slammed against something hard and unyielding.
With a grunt, Shepard curled up in pain. Despite the need for urgency, she struggled to orientate herself - seeing nothing but black spots. When she finally managed to regain awareness of her surroundings, Miranda was nowhere in sight.
