Empty Corners
He was the unseen, the silent blade. She was the protector, the shining lance.
Together, they will fight.
Right and wrong are more often shades of gray than black and white.
Can they change the fate of the galaxy?
Can they save each other?
It was like walking into a memory. The quiet, achingly familiar residences passed in bright vertical lines that alternated with views of the darkening clouded sky that slashed down between them. The houses were of a pale, light material, like the clay-and-sandstone caves of Thane's native world, but built to withstand rain as well as heat. The roar of the Encompassing was an ever-beating rhythm by which all living drell set their hearts.
Unexpected flashes of color marked where his fellow citizens went about their routines; shopping in the corner kiosks, sweeping walkways, or basking in the rare shaft of reddish sunset light. Normal people with normal lives.
Shepard sat in the passenger seat of the groundcar they had switched to for this journey. Her profile was in sharp relief against the rain-spattered and moisture-condensed glass of the closed windows. It was no wonder that he had been drawn to her. Although she lacked the vivid coloration of his people, the intense brilliance of her eyes and the flaring feathery touch of her magnificent spirit outshone any mere mortals that he encountered.
He knew that she hated to be placed above the norm. 'Pedestals just make you a good target," she'd said. But he could not help but elevate her in his mind; at the very least, he thought of her as first among living beings. Only one such would be able to take on the near-godlike Reapers.
He wondered what the hanar reaction would be if they knew that Commander Shepard was on Kahje. They revered the Enkindlers that theory speculated were the same as the Protheans, and Shepard still contained the Prothean Cyper in her remarkable mind. She had also destroyed two separate Reapers, who were akin to devils in the hanar mythos.
Oblivious to his thoughts, Shepard stretched cramped muscles, then turned to him, a small curious smile on her face. "Not that I'm complaining, Thane, but why exactly are we coming here? You're the one who didn't want to waste time."
"I once persuaded Irikah to make a copy of the security key to her lab in case of...eventualities. You must understand, Kepral's Syndrome is the leading cause of death among the drell on Kahje. No family is left unaffected by its touch. When Irikah joined the research center, I asked her to let me copy her security card on the premise that it might prove useful in a number of ways. It may be of assistance to us tonight."
"Wouldn't the hanar have recoded their doors after so long?" she asked. "I can't imagine that the thing would still work."
"The original was given back to the center. She was a junior research assistant, and the key only granted access to the building itself and the section she worked in. I doubt that the hanar would bother to recode all cards for an unlikely and low-risk scenario." His brow ridges arched in a confident look that he sent her way. "We will also have Tali'Zorah vas Normandy with us. The card is simply an attempt to shorten our...heist. If it does not work, Tali'Zorah should be able to grant us access to the pertinent data."
"Your logic is unassailable yet again," Shepard flashed her rarest smile at him for a moment before sobering her expression. "But what I really want to know is whether you're okay with coming here? I wanted to see your house, but not if it causes you pain."
"I am...remarkably well, siha. The dampness is causing me some physical discomfort, of course, but I assume you are inquiring into my state of mind." He smiled and rested his free hand on her thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Time heals many wounds and love even more. There are no unquiet ghosts for me here, only the quiet recollections of joy. I'll share some of them with you if you'd like."
"I would like that very much, kind sere," Shepard smiled.
The groundcar glided to a stop in front of a small two-story house faced with brown and cream tiles. Even from the outside, he felt the sense of emptiness that came from a long-vacant dwelling. The absence was as tangible as the silence of the Normandy when its rightful occupants had been stolen away. A feeling of déjà vu washed over him as he escorted Shepard up the walk and over the threshold.
Everything in the house was thick with the cobwebs of dust and memory. He nictated his secondary eyelids against the dust, but welcomed the tangible touch of each item. He righted a table that he remembered knocking over in his hurry to leave ten years ago. The scene that surfaced was older and happier, however.
"A knock at the door. I step into an automatic crouch. I've just returned from a contract and my body is still accustoming itself to being home. Irikah is upstairs, dressing for the evening. The sound of her merriment tumbles down the stairwell. She is amused at some of the galactic fashions I have brought home to her. She calls, her voice like singing birds, 'Get that please, Thane! I'll be down in a minute.'"
"Her brother and his wife had joined us for dinner at this very table. Afterward, they took us to watch the dancing lights in the Fountains of Shanpara. They were the ones who cared for Kolyat while I went after Irikah's killers."
Two wine glasses lay overturned on the table nearest the rear window. "These were a gift to us by the hanar. We used them only when we had cause to celebrate. She must have brought them out in preparation for my return." Thane bent down and rested one hand on the smooth wood that was varnished against the damp. With the other hand, he picked up the fluted crystal shapes and gently placed them upright on the the dried condensation rings stained into the wood. His eyes followed a splintered crack in one of the glasses that branched its way from the upper rim to the very bottom. A single indelicate touch would shatter the goblet into a million tiny pieces. He backed away carefully to prevent jarring the glasses, leaving them to sparkle faintly under their coating of age in the afternoon light.
His footsteps kicked up small puffs of debris as he led the way to the upper level. The smell of mildew and dust increased, clotting the air being drawn into his body until he had to clear his throat with wheezing chuffs. Behind him, Shepard rubbed her nose furiously with her fingers to keep from exhaling an explosive sneeze.
The upstairs was divided into a large bedroom that looked out over the Sunrise Quarter, a smaller nursery, and an office-library area lined with old-fashioned books. His destination was the nursery, where Kolyat's tiny trundle bed was still neatly made up with fading, graying sheets. Bending down, Thane's sensitive fingers ran across a particular spot a few centimeters below and behind the still intact bedstead. A soft click rewarded his efforts. Smiling, Thane straightened and crossed to the next room-the large bedroom. The two chambers shared a single wall and the noise had come from the larger area.
An almost indiscernible seam split the plaster, mostly hidden by the faint striped texture of the dividing wall. He pulled the loose panel aside and drew out a shining metal box untouched by the age that shaped the rest of the house. It was fastened with a plain, non-electronic, dial-based combination lock. He spun in the alphanumeric code, setting the characters to match the line scored into the metal. The box snapped open, revealing the plastic keycard he needed, a datapad detailing his arrangements should something happen to him, a bundle of dried flowers, and a small leatherbound book.
He smiled to see it, gently touching the soft paper pages. The keycard was useful, important, even; but he found himself holding the small tome with far more care than he did with the pieces of hard plastic and soft petals. The book seemed heavier than he remembered, as if something more than memory weighed it down. He flipped rapidly through the closely written text, but saw nothing incorrect with the passages he knew.
"Is there something wrong?" Unseen by him in his distraction, Shepard had moved closer and was peering over his shoulder at the now-empty container and the book lying open on his palms.
"Not at all." He smiled at the tiny crinkles around her slightly slanted eyes as she rested her chin on his shoulder. "The book was Irikah's diary. I hadn't expected to find it here with her security key."
She tilted her head and shifted around to see his face better, her brows arching in surprise. "A diary? But why would she need to keep a diary when she has the perfect memory of your race?"
"Photographic memory will bring back every sensation and thought, but the act of physically recording an idea can help to bring structure from the randomness of triggered sequences. In writing down a moment in time, I can add the feel of the pen gliding over paper to my memory of an evening breeze winding through the windows of this very bedroom...
"It ruffles white curtains; carries the scent of wet earth and ozone; and brings the sound of thunder, crashing like cymbals in a great orchestra. Lithe, pliant flesh. Soft supple lips. The taste of saffron, mint, and the barest hint of citrus. Laughter and gasps of passion. She pushes me back, rises above me in azure and golden beauty. Her hands grip mine. Her back arches as she drives herself down..."
A set of arms squeezing his chest brought him out of the recollection.
"Thane, my love, my darling, if you keep reciting that memory, I am going to throw you on that bed and re-enact it right now."
He chuckled and scooped her into his arms. "While I have no problems with this idea, siha, I foresee one small physical obstacle." And he tossed her on top of his bed.
She squealed, actually squealed, as she landed. The squeal turned in to a serious of hacking, indignant coughs as a huge cloud of heavy gray dust puffed out of the unused bedsheets and surrounded her in its grip.
"Thane!" she yelled between chokes and spasms. "I am going to G-KERCHOO," a gigantic sneeze shook her mid-sentence, "GET you for that!"
Thane had backed up to the very door of the room as soon as he had hefted her into the air, and now he stood against the lintel, laughing as he had not laughed in his entire life.
Shepard glared at him while she climbed out of the bed, holding her nose to try and prevent further explosions. "I would never have guessed from your exterior that you had such a rotten sense of humor."
With some exertion of discipline, Thane straightened and sobered his face enough to reply, deadpan, "The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone." He couldn't help the quirk fighting its way to his lips as he waited for Shepard's reaction.
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes rounded and her mouth hanging open at that quote from their first meeting. Then her full-hearted laughter rang out to join his, their mingled merriment filling the empty corners of the house.
When they finally sobered, the day was fading toward dusk. While the sun wasn't visible, the purples and golds of the clouds indicated that sunset wasn't far away.
Shepard sighed and pushed away from where she had collapsed against his chest. "It's getting late. Tali should be at our rendezvous in a bit; we should go."
Thane nodded. He had been preoccupied with watching the changing light chase different shadows across her face, but her words reminded him that there was another preparation to make. "Soon. There is one more errand to run."
"Oh?"
"Yes, and we must hurry now. You are a lengthy distraction, siha, and that district isn't a safe place to be after dark. Even we could be taken down by a surprise attack."
The buildings grew steadily shabbier as they hurried along until they reached a neighborhood that could only be described as a slum. Ill-kept buildings slumped around each other in defeated huddles. Every society, every city, had slums, even a world under the guidance of the hanar, and Kahje was no exception.
"Where are we going?" Shepard muttered to him as they passed the undemarcated border from run-down to dangerous.
"To meet with one of my old contacts. I sent him a message and partial advance payment from the Normandy. He replied with a time and a place for pickup. We do not have much time and he is not appreciative of tardiness."
He recognized at least three different territorial gang markings before they were two minutes into the area. They dodged around a corner, scurrying past an exposed street lamp that had somehow survived intact.
Shepard drew him into a small shadowed alcove formed by several half rotted prefabs leaning drunkenly against each other. "Thane, before we go any further, do you have a plan to deal with this contact of yours? Setting the meeting at this time and place isn't exactly encouraging trust."
"He is trustworthy as long as our credit is good. We will be safe enough if we go quickly."
"What can we expect from him?"
"He'll remember me from when I was active and react accordingly. Our first meeting will be uppermost in his mind."
"And how exactly did that first meeting go?"
He let the scene flow from his memory in explanation.
"He stares at me with blackened eyes and broken nose. A reject in a society of order. Drala'fah. He picks at his teeth with a wooden implement and a scowl further darkens his filthy face.
'So you're supposed to be the great Thane Krios,' he sneers. 'Don't look like much more than a hotshot to me.'
I stare back. His eyes are open so widely the whites show all around, and I can see my own face gazing back at me. I see what he sees. One who deals in remorseless death. My hand twitches to my gun in unmistakable threat but my eyes do not leave his. He begins to tremble. I don't look away. I know he will break and compliance would be better than force.
A sheen of sweat slicks his face and he looks away, slumping back onto the rusted barrels behind him. His mouth moves, his voice shakes, 'I guess you're everything they say you are.'
He takes out a dirty cloth to wipe his face. I do not move except to inch my hand closer to my gun to signal my impatience.
He gulps. 'Yes...yes Sere, I have what you want. Right this way.'"
"So he's crooked but a coward. How do we know he won't sell us out."
"He knows that if he did, I would come for him. It is enough to keep him honest in our dealings."
"I still don't like this idea, is it necessary?"
"It is, siha."
"I guess trust goes both ways. Lead on."
They returned to their scramble through the cluttered streets until they reached a low ramshackle-the best word was hut-surrounded by similarly broken-down structures. Leaning back against the doorframe was a squat, middle-aged human. Spotting them, he straightened, drawing a wizened hand across his balding, liver-spotted brow.
"Haldo Ryssur," Thane nodded to the human.
"Krios. I didn't think you were still alive. Imagine my surprise when you contacted me with your request," Haldo Ryssur sneered. He rubbed a splotched piece of orange fabric back and forth between his palms.
"Life can be unpleasant in that way, Ryssur. Do you have what I asked for?"
"Same old Krios, right to the point and no nonsense. Follow me." Ryssur pushed open the flimsy boards that served as a door and led them inside.
Thane held up one hand to forestall Shepard from following Ryssur directly into the building. "My friend will wait out here, just in case. I'm sure you won't mind."
"Hey fine with me," Ryssur shrugged. "She's a pretty one to be following you around, isn't she."
Shepard leveled a gaze at the dealer that sent him back a few steps. Thane could see the faintest shimmer around her hands and knew that she was prepared for an attack. It seemed she appreciated Ryssur even less than he did.
"Ookay, never mind. Let's just get this over with."
Inside the seedy building front was a small shop that barely had enough room for the two of them to stand side by side. He knew this couldn't be the actual dealership so he simply waited with arms crossed while the merchant fiddled with a battered light fixture. A panel slid aside to reveal a more extensive collection of equipment. Laid out on the nearest table were the items he had requested during their short communication a few days ago.
"There you are, best I can do on short notice."
He examined the armor closely, picking and choosing from the technical assortment. Rushed work it might be but Ryssur had lived up to his reputation. Ryssur turned his back as Thane began removing most of his weapons, and shed his worn leathers for the new set of gear. The armor felt strange covering up his chest and neck but he admitted that it felt more secure. He was pleased that the frill clips-they had cost more than the rest put together-were exactly to his specifications and fit perfectly into the empty piercings that he had sported since an incident before he had met Shepard; they had needed to be discarded and he'd never gotten a chance to retrieve or replace them until now.
Shouting and the sour twang of near misses. From the commotion, three guards at least. Two are blue skinned asari commandos, their biotics visible to my altered eyes, fluorescing into ultraviolet. One krogan heavy; his bootsteps shake the plastic ramp with a clattering rattle. Yellow sparks spin off the flecked stone column that protects me from the ricocheting bullets. I move to another position but the shots follow me unerringly. They cannot see me, I am well hidden from sight, yet their aim gets closer by the second. They buy time for my quarry to flee.
How are they finding me? I move too quickly for them to catch me with sight and the synthetic crates should block heat. Bullet volleys ping off a metal screw protruding from my cover. I've missed something.
I realize it's the metal. The mercs are using a magnetic targeting system that arcs their bullets toward the nearest metal. The building is constructed of plastic and stone. The only metal present is buried in the cement. And in the cold steel that I carry. I smile.
The distraction I set up detonates. Drawn to the metal in the earclips I planted by the bomb, the three guards now lie still beneath the smoking rubble of rock and plastic.
He turned up the jacket collar and re-donned his gun holsters, stretching to ensure that the tight red leather would not bind or tear. Once he was certain that everything fit as it should, he went back out to the false store front where Ryssur and Shepard waited.
A/N: How did a filler chapter get to be so long? Come on BW, we're all waiting. I'm so excited, I hope that we get all sorts of juicy information! With luck, we'll be getting a release date soon. I might manage one more filler chapter but I need info, drat it!
Thank you as always to kiwibliss, lyssalu and LunaMax1214 for input. Here's a shout out to hanar05, aka GamerGal as well, for her wonderful comics, and IccaRus for teasing us with Koliana, and NSAS-oh the insanity!
Because it's been a while, all characters property of Bioware.
To you lovely lovely readers, thank you so much!