Present: 217 Years Post War
Liara watched quietly as the statue was unveiled. Wrought in marble and inlaid with gold and lapis, the statue showed Del in her dress blues, looking over the heads of the gathered crowd as she saluted. In the large base of the monument was a chamber, an open space just large enough for the casket.
Melara, Grunt and Solus, and two N7 marines who had once been Del's students, gently lifted the casket as the Fleet Master took the fore. Feeling an arm slip into hers, Liara leaned slightly on Irie but her eyes remained fixed, slightly unfocused.
As the casket was carefully moved to the base and then slid into the space designed for it, the Fleet Master called an order. The marines that flanked the large gathering presented their arms, but as the first volley was fired into the still gray air, it rang far louder than their twenty guns could account for.
On Alliance bases all around the world- and off it-, soldiers fired similar volleys. Standing in even ranks and using giant blanks, entire tank and ground based heavy artillery squadrons fired in sync with those marines at the funeral.
Floating in space, the fleets also fired blanks, the Orizaba 101-2 leading the salute.
Lily, startled by the sound, buried her face in her father's chest and cried. Evik gently covered her free ear with his hand, standing as far from the guns as he was able so as not to frighten her more. At the sound of the first shot, Liara jolted slightly, but after that remained still as they continued to sound.
The volley didn't finish until after the casket had slid home, Mel and one of the N7's lifting the heavy iron plaque and holding it in place as the tomb was firmly sealed.
Sound didn't seem to return to the world until they were back in the car. There would be endless banquets, speeches, prayer vigils. The rain had stopped but the clouds had grown heavier, angrier still, and along their route Liara could see thousands of candles lit and casting shadows over solemn and innumerable faces.
Weary as she was, Melara was expecting her mother would want to just return to their quarters and retreat from the world for a time, but to her surprise, Liara suddenly leaned forward and spoke to the driver.
"Would you please take us to 3804 Beacon Street?"
"Miss?" the private asked, confused. "That's a rough part of town. I'm not really supposed to break escort-"
"Please, it is important."
"Mama?" Melara frowned, sitting forward and looking at her. "What is it? What's at Beacon street?"
Ignoring her daughter, Li continued to talk to the driver. "There is an Alliance N7 Captain in this vehicle, Private, and the krogan will no doubt follow closely. We shall be safe enough. Please take us to Beacon, otherwise I shall be forced to walk."
"I…I'll need to clear this with-"
"Clear it with whomever you wish, just go. And thank you."
As she sat back, Melara asked again. "What's at Beacon street, Mama? There's nothing down that side of the city. Some of it still bears marks of the war. Only gangs and the homeless live down there."
"There is something there I need to do," Liara said. "It will not take long."
Melara studied her face, the nodded and addressed the driver. "Private, you have my clearance. Inform the krogan and make sure the brass know where we're heading, then go to that address as asked."
"Yes, ma'am."
The car reached an intersection and turned off from the main convoy, the krogan instantly following. The crowds seemed surprised, but as the car moved along and took several turns, they thinned out.
Twenty minutes passed in silence as they drove, then thirty. The enormous throngs gathered in the center of the city were absent here, and after a while it almost seemed no one moved on Earth but them. The buildings around them fell into disrepair. The streets became rougher, zagged with cracks and mined with potholes. Then, a barricade blocked them, signifying they were about to enter a dangerous area that had not yet been repaired.
Melara poked her head out and talked with the guard there for a few minutes, before he nodded and cleared the barricade, allowing them in. Five minutes later, the private drew the car to a halt. "Here we are," he said. "3804."
Liara exited the car, swiftly followed by her two daughters, Irie whispering to Evik to remain behind with Lily. The krogan jumped out of their own vehicle, Grunt striding over to Mel.
"What are we doing here? What's going on?"
Liara, her white dress seeming almost to glow in the dusty gloom, had not paused after disembarking from the car. Striding to a set of stairs leading into a tunnel, she started down them, her children and the krogan hurrying to catch up.
The old light rail tunnel was dark…almost too dark to see, at first. Then the gloom broke as Liara lit her omni-light, not pausing a step in her journey and bothering only to keep the very hem of her dress from dragging on the filthy steps.
Reaching the bottom she turned left, stepping out onto the old light rail platform, switching off her omni-tool as they stepped outside once again.
The platform was warped and long abandoned. The Reapers had destroyed most of the old light rail system, and the new system that had been built had bypassed many of the old stations, including this one. A pair of heavy metal benches still stood against the near wall, the wrenched legs of a third showing where one had been scavenged…likely to be sold for scrap. Litter drifted around her feet, weeds and even a couple of small trees growing in the cracks of the rail system itself.
Liara's eyes didn't look outward, though. They turned toward the benches, and when Mel followed her gaze and saw the battered old vent grate over the leftmost bench, she suddenly knew where they were…and why her mother had come.
Liara stared silently at the vent for a very long while, tears slowly appearing and then falling down her face. Just as Mel was about to go to her, to softly insist that they go back, Liara moved.
Walking to the bench, she reached into the loose folds of her skirt, into a pocket secreted there. Drawing her hand out, she very carefully laid the chocolate bar on the back of the bench, just beneath the vent grate. Lifting her hand, she touched the grate a moment, closing her eyes. Then, she turned and walked back to her family.
"Come. It is time we get back."
Irie put her arm around her and guided her back toward the stairs. Melara stood a moment, looking at that lonely chocolate bar, before she lowered her head and followed her family.
Past: 15 Years Post War
Rakhana reminded Del of Therum.
Rolling hills and crags of gray rock coated with dust and shining in some spots with volcanic glass, it was hot, it was ugly, and it was preternaturally still. No wind seemed to stir around the broken and twisted rock formations, and as her boots thumped to dirt, she fancied she could feel the low and distant stir of the angry magma below the crust…and not nearly far enough below it to be of comfort.
A kilometer separated them from their landing zone to the broken cave Hewitt had indicated was the entrance to Orthrus's lair. With Liara and Lane on her heels, she moved at a steady trot, rifle ready for any nasty surprises.
Bursting steam vents caused their HUDs to flash angrily, and more than once they had to reroute their course to avoid the boiling, superheated water. Pausing at one formation, Shepard crouched in the shadow of a particularly sizable hunk of obsidian, looking intently at her companions.
"How are we doing?"
"We will not know for sure until we get closer to the cavern but, so far I am not feeling any strange influence," Liara said.
"Me neither," Lane replied. "Feel five-by."
Liara and Miranda had worked quickly trying to find the best protections against whatever mysterious indoctrination they might come across. Given that Wyatt, Shiva, the Collectors, and the Reapers had all used various subharmonics to begin the process, they were banking on whatever this new threat was using the same method. Shepard's nanites had long been tuned to resist those kinds of takeovers, but the others had no such protections.
In the end, Liara had constructed-with Miranda's guidance and Tali's engineering know-how- several small devices that would block any noise signal outside of the audible range. They wore them over their ears like awkward, ancient hearing aids, each sound and vibration passing through them scanned and evaluated.
There were no guarantees, of course, but it was the best they could do.
Using her sniper, Shepard leaned over the obsidian and carefully zoomed in on the coordinates they'd been provided. "I see the cave entrance. It's little more than a wide crack in the wall. No obvious guards."
"Doubt they'd leave 'em," Lane said. "They'll move them in after we go through…close up the trap and flank us."
"Yeah. Fortunately we have a thousand rachni ready to swarm the place if things go sour. All right, on we go. Keep your eyes open, move cautiously. We have no idea what to expect and anything we see could end up giving us an edge."
"Just like old times," Liara said lightly. Del gave her a smirk before they started on their way again.
A worn wash was less than a hundred yards ahead, a broken cliff rising from its far end. In that cliff was a wide crack, rock torn apart by shifting tectonic plates. It was just wide enough for a small krogan in full plate to walk in.
Shepard took point, switching her HUD to infrared rather than using an omni-light, and moving carefully. It was hot enough that their displays turned amber, temperature readings marking just below the danger zone. Deeper steam vents made the air cloudy and humid.
The crack moved deeper into the earth, jagging and doglegging and at times narrowing so much near the bottom that they were walking on the edges of the walls, straddling a crevice of an inch or two in width that sunk beneath them.
A slope covered with volcanic glass was the true tricky spot. Even with their boots it was hard not to slip, and they inched down tentatively, knowing if they lost their footing they'd tumble a hundred feet or more to where the rock evened out again. So far, all had been as Hewitt had described.
Inching forward and scouring every blind corner, Shepard continued to lead their way downward, deep into Rakhana's suffering corpse.
Then, sliding through another break, they were abruptly in a wide, obviously hand-made corridor. Part of it to their left was long collapsed, but it was open ahead of them…a straight run of at least two dozen yards. The walls were littered with carvings, worn down to mere shadows and broken with growing rock, obsidian, and glass. Liara, drawn to the carvings, moved close to one wall, her gloved fingers lightly tracing them.
"Can you read them?" Shepard asked.
"Even if they were clear, it would likely take me decades to decipher them. If this is language, it far predates any that has ever been discovered. I have no point of reference for translation. I am going to take a scan of this wall, see if I cannot at least bring them into sharper focus. We may not be able to read it but there may be faded pictures, images that will serve instead."
Shepard gestured at Lane to check out the far opening, staying by Liara's side and watching back the way they'd come as the asari set her omni-tool and carefully scanned the rock face.
"It is astounding even this much has survived, especially in a highly volcanic area," Liara said, her archaeologist's wonder coming out in her voice. "This entire structure must have, at one time, stood on Rakhana's surface. Entire solar systems are younger than these carvings…it is astounding. I have-…Shepard, here. Look at this."
Heading over to her side, Del peered at the image hovering over Liara's omni-tool as she clarified and indicated a shape.
"That's the Citadel," she said, recognizing the crude lines.
"Yes. It is not conclusive, but it lends credence to the idea that this cavern- and whatever technology it contains- is contemporary to the mass relay system and possibly constructed by the same hands. It-"
"Colonel!" Lane's call drew their attention to the small marine at the far end of the hall. "You guys are going to want to see this."
Liara saved her scan information and they headed that way. As they reached Lane's side, she gestured through the crack. "There's a chamber just beyond. Big as the Normandy's CIC. It…well, I think we found the Red Queen."
Shepard narrowed her eyes and slipped forward, through the opening. A wide chamber, well lit by lamps that had been hung ringing the walls, opened up before her. She did not step out of the opening immediately, looking carefully over what lay before her.
The floor was covered with dirt, drifted over even tiles that had been inlaid upon it. The dirt was churned up by footprints and in places the tiles were swept clean. They were faintly carved, nearly as worn as the walls in the hallway behind them.
The chamber was a perfect oval, rounding even to the ceiling. To her right, a metallic dais was humming ever so softly, an egg of silver lined with red hovering inches over it, suspended by a wash of light. Within the dias what looked like the eye of a relay was slowly rotating, three rings separating and then coming together perfectly before separating again. Seeing that, Del had no doubt in her mind that this strange device was built by the same hands that made the relays.
Striking as the strange equipment was, it was the far wall of the room that drew her attention. Beneath the pads of her hard-suit, Del could feel every hair on her body standing on end.
The wall was made of something transparent, unfamiliar- like fluid water hardened to stone, but neither cold nor even as opaque as ice. The closest thing she could liken it to was blown glass, but deep and thick and somehow even more delicate than that.
Within this wall was a being. Bipedal, it stood easily ten or twelve feet in height, thin and willowy and colored in mottled shades of scarlet. Its legs were together, arms spread wide apart, long fingers as thin as reeds stretching to each side. Atop a delicate neck was a thin, long-chinned head that seemed tilted slightly upward. The features were odd and confusing to make out, at least from this distance. From the top of its head rose several thin branches or antlers, twig-like twisting shapes that swept upward a good twenty four inches.
From here, it looked like a crown.
There seemed to be no other entrances or exits to the room as far as she could see. Stepping aside to let the other two in, she gestured at Lane to circle the room and make sure, putting a hand on Liara's shoulder as the asari took in the sight and gasped.
"You feeling anything?" she asked. Astonished by the sight before her, Liara didn't immediately respond. Not until Del gave her a light shake. "Li?"
"What? Oh, no, I feel fine Shepard, I am just…this is incredible, unprecedented. That is the preserved specimen of a race of beings that existed trillions of years ago! I…there are no words!"
The two headed further in, Shepard moving toward the equipment bank as Liara gravitated toward the being. The substance surrounding it kept its oddly liquid appearance. When her fingers tentatively touched it, she expected them almost to dip into its surface. Instead, she met firm, unyielding resistance.
Up close, she could better see the creature held within. Though there were no obvious mammalian gender characteristics, she got a very distinct impression that what she was looking at was female. Its skin seemed to be faintly scaled, more like a fish than reptilian. It was difficult to tell if it was clothed or not. Sweeps of almost chitinous coverings swathed its torso and flanked its long neck, wrapping its hips and legs. The coverings could be a molded type of body armor or natural anatomy- it was impossible to say for certain.
Seen up close, her face appeared to be slightly muzzled, a tiny slit of a mouth low, nearly to her chin. Nostrils were small and sleek, and from the folds of flesh along the neck- remarkably similar to an asari's- Liara deduced that this being's ancestors had at one point been aquatic.
The nose and shape of the torso suggests it has evolved to the amphibious stage. The long fingers are not webbed and would be unsuitable for sustained water propulsion. The delicate frame would be most unsuitable for waters of any real depth…her ancestors did not come from the ocean. Likely…deep lakes, shallow seas…? But no, she is far too fragile for even that. I do not understand. She has strong signs of being aquatic but would be crushed by water pressure, and a clumsy, ineffective swimmer. Her limbs suggest that if she came from land, it is on a very low-gravity world but…then why gills? Are those vestigial gills? They seem so from here but may serve a differing purpose.
Frustration came over her. She could not answer the mystery without examining the creature more closely, but the 'glass' that contained it felt as solid as diamond. It was impossible to tell without a real scan, but she doubted even the Normandy's main gun could scratch its surface, let alone free its treasure.
As the 'clothing', it was impossible to tell if the 'crown' was an artificial construct or a natural part of her body. It seemed made up of a thousand chitinous structures, almost like the old branches of a plant. It came down low on her brow, but Liara could not truly determine at what point the structures ended and flesh and skull began.
Below it, two enormous eyes were tightly closed, quite oversized for the almost non-existent mouth and nose.
The entire being was red: blood red around the head and face, lightening a little toward the front. Dark crimson along the torso, spattered with brighter shades. The 'crown' appendages and spreading fingers were the dark maroon of clotted human blood.
A Red Queen indeed, she thought. Who were you, poor soul? Were you here by choice, or is this your prison? What world did those eyes once look out upon? What slow dreams do you dream now?
She could not say if the being was alive or dead. The 'glass' could be a form of stasis or hibernation, or just an accidental preservation, like a hapless insect caught in amber.
"Colonel, we have incoming," Lane announced suddenly, startling Liara slightly and breaking her chain of thought. Anne had completed her circuit of the room, finding no other entrances. Returning to the opening they'd come through, she could hear approaching boots- lots of boots, and coming fast.
Shepard immediately turned away from the strange equipment, gesturing firmly at Liara and then Anne as she pulled her rifle. Liara rushed to the left side of the door, skin brightening with biotics. Lane flanked the right side, her own rifle in hand. Shepard crouched down near the right as well, dropping to one knee and flexing her gloves on her weapon. The moment the first figure appeared down the corridor, she snapped her weapon around and planted a pair of bullets at its feet.
Instantly the figure recoiled, then moved to the side, those following it quickly taking up defensive positions along the hallway. A dozen weapons ratcheted, muzzles bristling toward the opening. The light was poor out in the corridor, but Del could make out hard-suits, most slathered with Orthrus or Cerberus colors.
"That's far enough," she called.
"You have no escape from that room," someone else called back, and once more Del felt her skin crawling, her hair lifting on edge. There was something odd about that voice…but Del knew it. She couldn't place it for the moment, but damn it…she knew it.
"I've mowed my way through bigger forces than you've got," she replied. "Don't think for a second you have me backed into a corner. You know me and what I can do."
"I know you. In more than one life," the familiar voice called back. One of the hard-suited forms- a big one- broke away from the others, striding forward. Del tensed, fixing on the figure.
"That's close enough!"
"Close enough for old friends?"
He lifted his hands, removing his helmet. His face was pale and he looked sick, his bristled hair damp and running with sweat. Even so, he was every bit as huge and ugly as he'd always been. Del felt her gut go cold, her jaw working tightly.
"Close enough for sick old friends…Wilcher."
"Del, c'mon now. I'm not sick. I've never felt more clear in my entire life. We've been waiting for you, Shepard. We've wanted you to come."
"I'm here now," she replied. "Talk fast, Sam-"
"We have brought you here," he said, and smiled a smile that creeped her right the fuck out. It was the smile of a psychopath- patient, and affable, and coated with poison. His voice seemed to change even more, tightening and rising in pitch, almost squealing…the echo of nails on a chalkboard. His tongue darted out to lick his lips…a quick fish that was there and gone again.
"Eeeeee-oh-veeeee-no…"
He was fucking insane. Whatever the equipment in here had done to him, it had driven him right off the edge. In his dancing eyes she couldn't see even a ghost of her old commanding officer and friend. Wilcher was dead, and whatever had him now was off its fucking nut.
Unseen behind her, the Red Queen's enormous eyes opened, reflecting infernal dances of firelight. The tiny mouth shifted a little.
"Iovino…where…?"
"Iovino…where…?" Wilcher asked in that squealing pitch, before his voice lowered and he seemed to answer himself.
"She is here. We have her here…"
"Show me, show me! I cannot seeeeee…" The huge eyes darted and strained, their owner unable to shift or move her head. Her nearly inaudible voice was echoed with Wilcher's vocal cords as she let out a giddy laugh.
The big man pointed into the room, pointed right at the far wall, and smiled at Del. "Go. She wants to see you. Kill us or don't kill us, you can't escape her now. Iovino, go…" His grin broadened maniacally.
"Off with your head…"