"Sitting here in limbo
Waiting for the dice to roll
Yeah, now, sitting here in limbo
Got some time to search my soul
Well, they're putting up a resistance
But I know that my faith will lead me on" - Jimmy Cliff - Sitting in Limbo


Alright, dearies! Thank you for sticking around! I bring you... Javik!

The sadness, the feeling of loss was overwhelming. Above me, below me, surrounding me left and right – it crept towards my own room, latched on to me, and I was quite too tired to try to shake it off. These stifling emotions were not unknown to me. I have suffered great losses in the past. A very far away past… But the slumber was far too short to soothe the pain and quench the anger. It was all over now, I should just let it go. However, as I dipped my hands into the liquid to wash them off, momentarily enjoying the cool feeling of it on my skin, I knew that it will never be quite over for me.

Sighing, I gripped the ends of the table and bent my neck forward, bringing my face inches away from the dark liquid. As the surface of the water smoothed out, a face of the last Prothean stared back at me. Was I really sure of my decision? It's all over for my race, but…

Frustration bubbled inside of me and I splashed the surface, sending my image rippling, features shattering, only to fall back into their rightful places and glare angrily back at me. The death will help me rejoin my fallen comrades. Everything will fall into their rightful places; the galaxy will regain its order. I am not fit to live in this cycle, as it is not mine any more. I have to relinquish it to the little primitives and hope that they will not bring a threat such as the now dead Reapers upon themselves.

I sat down on one of the crates, giving myself away to my senses. Somewhere above me, a human was restless. A Kaidan human. Lately, his steps have become more rapid, more unsure. I felt him stop, his form slumping – the little vibrations indicating a heavy sigh. A clump of energy below me, that belonged to the human James, was reeking of pressurized anger and sorrow – the latter being a new tendency between the crewmates in the ship. Anger was an everyday thing. But I was not accustomed to such waves of the crippling and dark emotion that was sadness.

That's what kept me during the hours when I should have been asleep. As the ship quieted down and everybody retreated back to their quarters, it soon began. The bitter and choking energy descended upon the ship, with most of the residents unable to let their mourning settle down and allow them some shuteye. No. It floated in the air like black clouds of smoke, and I could almost imagine some of the crew staring helplessly at their respective ceilings, wondering why the glory of the victory couldn't outweigh the loss that always seemed quite inevitable and thus, in theory, easy to let go.

But it was not all that, that continuously and slowly droved my consciousness away from the here and now. I settled upon the assumption that it was the feeling of a job that has finally been done. My work here is complete. If it were the case 50,000 years ago, we would have rejoiced and continued to build our empire, slowly growing into something gigantic. Experienced a Golden Age even. But now… I could not see myself a part of this. How many would give it a second thought when I'm gone?

Commander would have. But, she's not here. Seconds before the fight, I succumbed to something that only now I can put into words. It was a dreadful feeling, one that rules out everything else. I wanted to tell someone my thoughts, because it was fear that made me realize that I wanted to be heard. And I was. Commander Shepard listened to me. She heard out my plans – what I would do if I survived. And then, when my words ceased their flow, she heard the ones I left to be unspoken. I could feel that she knew. She simply knew. And now she's gone. My secret came back to stay with me again, and it will disintegrate into earth beside me.

As one day raced the other, my conviction grew. I did not want the ship to become my silent grave, so I had to take action. If before I had thought that the sorrow of Kaidan and James were unbearable, I was now proven wrong when night after night my senses were flooded with the grief of the turian. For a long while after the final battle I couldn't feel him and guessed that it must have been a shock that dulled him so. But then, one night, I was awoken by sharp pangs that almost felt like my own. I managed to block him out, but I still heard a distant clang of metal. When the morning finally came, the exhaustion must have knocked him out.

For a brief moment I considered going up to the crew deck and visiting the asari. It was an insane thought, but I was getting desperate for something to do – a distraction of sorts would have helped me to dull my senses that have been so acutely analyzing the emotional state of the ship. For once, I have considered the bliss of the species in this cycle – the silence that they do not appreciate.

And yet, they were damned in other ways. Too preoccupied with personal grief and a certain sense that was not unlikely to the feeling of standing close to the edge of a cliff and knowing that this is the only way forward. Frustration. Boredom, even.

The human pilot, Joker, immersed himself into assessing the damage of the relays. Some were faulty to the extreme, while others were fully functional. It took us a few days before we could safely jump through one of the mass relays and escape the system that we were stranded in for quite some time.

And that's when I knew I had to do it.

It was easy. Too easy. Something inside me screamed for a challenge. No… Not only that. Something that I didn't know clawed at my insides as I slipped through the doors (they gave a quiet swoosh) and found myself in the corridor, and one step closer to my goal.

They wouldn't notice. Of course they wouldn't.

I took the elevator to the shuttle bay. I found the area deserted – not even James and that other human were there. Too preoccupied.

Still, I chose the comforts of the shadows, feeling too exposed even in the dimmed lights of the room. As I passed the weapon workbench, I stopped momentarily. Shotguns, submachine guns, sniper rifles… I took a heavy pistol, weighting it in my hands. Grabbing a few thermal clips, I was about to abandon the area, when I saw it. The Prothean particle rifle. I tucked the pistol in, and reached forward, hands finding the familiar metal. I could not leave without it. And it does not need any thermal clips.

I shook my head – my aim is not survival. 'But what if you decide that it is?' an inner voice whispered. Grabbing the particle rifle I turned on my heel and stormed to the other side of the shuttle bay, hoping that my quick motions will somehow alleviate any doubts. Or at least create a situation where it is too late to act on them.

And there they were… I walked past them, to the very last one that was slightly obscured by an armor locker. The escape pods. I was not really accustomed to the human technology so, slightly unsure, I pressed a couple of buttons. My heart sunk when the escape pod came to life, the little lights flickering on through the glass and illuminating the cramped space that promised a one way ticket. Opening it, I climbed in and snapped the door shut. I looked around, taking in the controls, and manipulated them until a screen popped up, asking for a destination.

Where do I even begin to look for the graves of my fallen comrades? I went through my mind, trying to catch a detail, a name, anything that would help in my search. My memory banks proved to be useless… Slowly, I began to feel a slight regret that I never took so much interest in the memory shard – it must contain name upon name of various planets that could grow into a list and I could begin my journey. Frustration resurfaced and I leaned back as much as I could, the walls of the pod restricting movement.

I am no commander. My people have entrusted an important mission to me to restore our race. But I failed. I have fallen short in keeping my comrades alive. And now, my ignorance of my people's history baffles me.

Moments passed by as I sat there, watching the lights on the control panel blink, wasting their energy on nothing. I fiddled around with my gun, heaviness taking control of my body. I knew that the night was coming to an end and someone will surely find me. Then what? I dread their questions, their pitiful looks as realization dawns on them.

I have no other choice but to either take my chances or exit the escape pod and pretend that nothing happened. The latter would not be that hard, anyways.

But my hand rose and my fingers began to plot the destination. I zoomed in the miniature galaxy map, finally setting up a course.

The escape pod released a whoosh, I could feel and see it slowly detaching itself from the ship and slipping into space. What I didn't anticipate, however, was that the ship would suddenly come to life. My fists clenched as I saw the scene unfold before my eyes – Normandy zoomed away, going for a nearby mass relay and then disappearing moments later.

I was on my own now.


Garrus stretched his back as he walked up the bridge to Joker. The pilot did not face him, however, and seemed to be frantically tapping away at the screens. In the past, it would have raised suspicion, but now Joker was mostly immersed into his work.

Suddenly, he stopped, his fingers no longer reaching for the console. Garrus turned and saw one little light starting to flash a bright red. It blinked a couple of times, then died.

The both men looked at it silently, Joker finally noticing the turian next to him.

"What was that?" Garrus asked, stepping forward and leaning towards the screen.

Joker rose from his seat, a rare sight to be seen nowadays, and limped to where Garrus was standing.

"I believe… That was one of the escape pods launching." He said, after another moment of silence.

Garrus turned to Joker, a look of confusion quite apparent even on his turian features. "Escape pods? But it doesn't make any sense." His brow plates rose, as he continued, "Maybe the Normandy is acting up."

That only brought a scoff from the pilot beside him. "The Normandy never acts up, Garrus. I'm piloting her, remember?"

Then, they heard a set of footsteps lightly scurrying across the bridge. Liara's form came into view, concern marking her features. The pilot and the turian exchanged glances, the former speaking up, "What is it, Liara?"

Her hands clasped together, "Has anyone seen Javik? I wanted to ask him about some of the Prothean data that I was able to piece together." Liara noticed that they exchanged glances again. Furrowing her eyebrows she asked, "Is something the matter?"

Uneasiness descended upon the group. Garrus cleared his throat before breaking the silence, "One of the escape pods launched not too long ago. I think it was a system error, but Joker is of another opinion."

"Yeah, I am. There are no system errors. EDI-" Joker fell short in his sentence. Once again, the tension was brought back to life, but Garrus was quick to react.

"Do you think he could possibly have…" He mumbled, his words thrown to the wind as he rushed to the elevator.

Liara and Joker remained to stand there, not sure of the situation. It was not long before Garrus returned with James. The turian carried a couple of datapads in his hands. Upon reading them it was clear. Javik has left them. Everyone went back to their tasks at hand, each with another heavy thought in their heads, and Liara with a datapad to puzzle over. It was a shock to the members of the crew, yes, but a complete turmoil begun its course in the heart of one young asari.