Fight your foes, you're not alone
-Faunts M4 Part II
Since seeing Shepard, I've cleared my mind and tried to focus where I'm heading. I thought I knew, but recent news has had me thinking differently. There's a specialist here that is fascinated by my implant, she's taken the opportunity to study it while I've been stuck in Huerta, I didn't mind, I kinda liked the distraction. She came to me the other day, looking grim.
"Major, I've been looking at these scans, and comparing them with the medical files the Alliance recently sent." She watches me and I know whatever she's about to say, I'm not going to like it.
"Just be to the point, I'm a big boy, Doctor."
She smiles and perches on the end of my bed. "Your implant is causing neural decay, that is to say you are losing higher brain function. You probably haven't noticed any symptoms, we've caught it early and can probably reverse the damage."
I nod, not really surprised, having seen others with the L2 suffer something similar. "Ok. How do we reverse the damage?"
She seems shocked I don't know the answer to my own questions, but she replies, "We remove the implant, Major."
"You mean no Biotics?"
"Yes."
"No. No way." I shake my head and glare like it's her fault.
"Major, the decay will get worse. It's degenerative, but still reversible at this stage." The way she says that, it's like it's the most reasonable thing in her mind.
"How quickly is it deteriorating?"
"It's hard to say without regular checks, but something caused your implant to start harming the tissue surrounding. Maybe a concussion a few years back? Either way the longer it stays in the more permanent the damage, but I've seen people unable to write their own names within a year…" She keeps talking, but my mind has drifted back to Eden Prime. I remember how the Prothean beacon touched my mind briefly before Shepard saved me from being frazzled. The migraines did get worse and then levelled out after a while. Just another thing Shepard has saved me from.
"A year you say? Well we might not have a year to survive as a species and I know for a fact I will be damn more effective with an implant than without. I understand your concerns, but, respectfully… please lose that file." She blinks and looks at the data pad in her hands. She looks pissed, but then she surprises me by deleting the image on her display. The way she looks at me frightens me a little, as if I'm dead already.
"Hope is still alive, Doc. When I'm made a Spectre, I'll be giving people some of that hope, but I'm probably not going to see the end of this war. So, save your medicine and expertise for those that really need it."
She doesn't say anything else and leaves. Was I too harsh or not harsh enough? There is no way in hell I am taking out my implant just before the eve of war. I'm not even worried about it, Christ, it's nothing. Then I see, with a clarity I've never had before, that I don't have a future. It is a cold and brilliantly pure thought, isolated, and so very primitive. No matter the outcome to this war; I see the yawning abyss spread out in front of me in one form or another. It's freeing; it's like I'm released from life, but free to live.
I start to think about my parents and how much I love them, but I know I can't do anything for them, other than defeat the Reapers. With Shepard, preferably. If not, then without, as a Spectre. I start seeing the unfinished aspects of my life and I wonder how I can resolve them. I think of my Spec Ops team and how they got me through the last years after Shepard. I owe them too. I feel a responsibility for my former students; wherever they are. I'm also in debt to Shepard in a way I can never satisfactorily repay. I know if Shepard asks me, I will be on the Normandy in a heartbeat, but I realise I need to become the Spectre Udina wants, play the 'Puppet of Hope' role.
I need to stop clouding my mind with Shepard, appropriate and inappropriate thoughts aside: duty first. Huh, yeah, like it's that easy.
The Doctor is nearly ready to let me out; though I sense her dragging it out as long as she can, maybe I'll change my mind about the implant. I get it, she's doing her job, but so am I. I'd rather be shot having the implant than getting shot because I didn't. It's really that simple.
I heard the Normandy is docked, so I've showered, made myself presentable. The Doctor gave me some pain meds to take with me when I leave, some are subtle, others are a lot stronger. I haven't taken any. I want my mind as clear as I can get it, I don't need the fug of drugs hindering me until I have no choice. I'm hoping Shepard will come by as well.
It is crazy, that in this terrible, terrible dilemma we've all been caught in, I still find time to have butterflies in my gut because Shepard might appear. And it is as I look out of the window that I hear the doors open behind me; my stomach clenches in anticipation of what my eyes have yet to confirm. I do what all teenagers do; I deflect with humour to cover my discomfort.
"If you came to spring me, you're late. They're letting me out soon." Shepard smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He congratulates me on accepting Udina's offer, but it was just a formality. We discuss the ceremony, Udina's bull etc. Then Shepard says something that catches me unawares.
"On Eden Prime I could see there was something special about you," then he adds, "You're a great soldier." He looks me in the eyes as he says it; I'm unable to hide my surprise. I was unaware he thought anything remotely like that about my skills. It was good to hear that from someone I respect so much. It was encouraging.
Shepard crosses his arms over his chest as he tells me the Normandy is there when I'm ready. I do not fail to notice this piece of schoolyard psychology; he crosses his arms to create a barrier, a defence… against me? I don't understand. I tell him I've been thinking about it, but want to find my Spec Ops crew and get the pomp and ceremony of becoming a Spectre over. Udina gets what he wants that way and I get some time to wonder at Shepard.
And I do wonder…
Why is he so defensive? I sit for a while holding the bottle he gave on his first visit; I don't recall him being so defensive before. Those dark thoughts once again permeate my mind, as I gaze outward with my eyes and inward with my mind. You're never truly alone with paranoia. Those wisps of negative cognitive thinking are like winter trees, branches of thought are harsh, barren, and fruitless. They serve no purpose other than to have me chasing my own tail.
I dream that night, of three roads before me, and Shepard is running down them all. He wants me to follow, but I don't know which path to pick, I'm paralysed with indecision. And then I'm awake, sweating with my heart racing. I understand at last. I don't have to choose, Shepard will choose for me. Simple. I see now, his defence was only at being refused, like I did on Horizon, like I questioned on Mars. God, why didn't I see that before. Maybe the implant… No! No. That was the easy way out, blaming the implant. For fucks sake Kaidan, maybe you just are that dense sometimes. I smile at my self-insult and conclude that talking to myself was probably sane… probably.
I settle back down to sleep and woke up surprised that I actually got some. I'm glad I did, because if I had known what the following day would bring, I wouldn't have slept at all. No, if I had known how close I came… it just doesn't bear thinking about. This war, is a head fuck of immense proportions.