REQUIEM

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:

THE RUDE INTERRUPTION

November 16, 2185

0531 hours.

The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate Normandy SR-2, In FTL inbound for the Bahak System, Viper Nebula.

Commander Marcus Lee Shepard, Chief Engineer Tali'Shepard vas Normandy.

Her eyes slowly and lazily opened, her slumber rudely interrupted by the shifting of the covers. When they opened, she saw one half of the bed's covers tossed aside. The drowsiness seemed to vanish from her eyes in an instant, as if her mind sensed the urgency of the situation. Her head snapped back to the left and she looked over her shoulder to see the other side of the bed was empty. Tossing the covers off of her, she quickly quickly picked up one of Marcus' T-shirts and slid it over her head and down to cover her torso, followed by a pair of knickers. Once finished, her eyes scanned the room, only to find the room completely devoid of her husband.

He never wakes up so early. Where could he possibly be?

She moved to walk up the steps, but stopped suddenly as her chest ached, causing her to groan in discomfort. The wound inflicted by Peta's knife still hurt when she moved and hadn't quite healed, and she wasn't sure the scar would ever disappear; it would be something she'd carry forever. A lover I never loved, and claimed to love me but attacked me in my own bed. The coward will be damned to the stars for eternity, with the ancestors forever punishing his every footfall.

But a different kind of ache suddenly welled up, this one deep within her, this one eminating from...her...keelah, really? The ache built up until eventually she couldn't stand, and moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, where the ache suddenly ceased. Her eyes narrowed and she looked at the area that ached. That ache...that came from my...but how is that possible? The serum can't possibly be taking effect yet. Could it? She suddenly remembered Mordin's words.

"Effects moderate to severe. Will not trouble you. Hoping. However, initial ejaculation may hurt. Womb will ache as sperm adapts to new atmosphere and the womb adapts to foreign bacteria. Fairly simple. Uncomfortable process. Nothing compared to development of child. Will get used to it. Giving birth basically the same as normal; no more pain than usual."

It continued to ache for a while, until eventually the pain faded away as fast as it came. She sat there, hands in her lap for a few more moments, just mindlessly looking at the closed cabin door as she tried to conjure up some reason why Marcus would be up and about this time of morning. I don't understand it. I didn't think Lia, Legion and Mordin leaving would have bothered him this much. But it has; and I don't understand why! Why can't I understand! I'm meant to comfort him, for ancestors' sake!

She fiddled with the covers for about half minute while she tried to gather her thoughts. Before she could try and piece together the man's reasoning however, the red interface of the cabin flashed once and disappeared, and her eyes snapped up just in time to watch the doors slide open and a slightly dejected-looking Marcus Shepard walk in. He seemed upset about something, and he had been moving to his terminal when he looked up, his eyes instantly locking with Tali's, and ceasing all movement.

She looked at his features, and saw the tortured person behind his eyes. His hair was tossed about and looked to be a mess, and he just looked...tired. Annoyed. Disgruntled. Terrified. Ashamed, even. For what though, she couldn't understand. Whatever it is, its kept him up. She looked at the bedside clock. It was now 0536 hours in the morning. Turning back, she crossed her arms, gave her best stern expression and locked eyes with him once more.

"Where did you go?" She asked, "Its too early to be up and about."

He merely watched her for a few seconds, unflinching and no answer forthcoming from his mouth. She had been about to ask the question again, whilst demanding an answer, but he finally spoke, his voice was dejected as he looked and eyes uncaring. He seemed to mouth the words as he turned away and moved to sit behind his desk on the second level of the cabin, "It's nothing. Just had to do...something. Just had to do something. It doesn't concern you; go back to sleep."

She wasn't convinced, and he knew it; but all he could hope was that she'd give up and just fall back into bed. But she didn't, and it only annoyed him further when she spoke again, this time with her standing up and making her way towards him, ignoring the dual-aching in her belly, "You're not going to wave me off, Marcus. Tell me, please. I need to know why you're up. You know and I know that you're never up at his time of morning unless its absolutely important or we're in an emergency. I don't think we're under attack, so what was so absolutely important that you needed to be up 0500 in the morning?"

He tried to ignore her and stared at his terminal, making no move to type into it or even do anything with it. He could feel his wife's eyes boring into the back of his skull, and he knew he'd have to answer her 'demand' eventually. He knew she only worried about him, but sometimes he wished she'd mind her her own business. But he knew he had to tell her. She needed to know. She deserved to know. How do you tell your wife that you need to go on a combat mission...alone? A wife that is so dependent on being by your side to protect you?

Eventually, he answered, hoping to delay the inevitable, "It was just a call from Admiral Hackett. Like I said, nothing to worry about."

She raised an eyebrow at him, "I don't believe you. Admiral Hackett would call you at 5 in the morning if it wasn't important," she sat down on the desk, just enough within his peripheral vision that he was forced to look at her, and he did. Her arms were still crossed, and she gave a hardened glare, "I am your wife. I trust you with my life, and you've entrusted me with yours. If this is important, I need to know. For both our sakes. And don't tell me its not important. I know it is. You have that look in your eye."

She knows me too well. That actually brought a little smile to his lips, and he shook his head, wiping it away and leaning on the table with his elbows, head in his hands as he shoved his terminal away. He sighed heavily, wiping at the sleepiness in his eyes before looking up, meeting Tali's worried gaze, "You're right. It is important. I just didn't want to tell you until the morning. Hackett...something's happened, and he wants me to fix it up."

"You? Fixing things? You're better off just blowing them up," she laughed, but quickly wiped the smile from her face at the look at solemnity on his features, "Tell me. What did Hackett tell you? What's this mission? Where is it?"

"In the Viper Nebula," Marcus told her, "The Bahak System. A little hellhole of a planet called Aratoht. I read the codex on it; not a happy place, but I have to go or it could mean...disaster. Cataclysm. It could mean our annihilation."

Her eyes widened at the mention of the Bahak System. Her translator translated that easy enough, "Batarian space, Marcus? You know humans aren't welcome there! The batarians would shoot at us the moment we entered the system! Why in all the ancestors would he order you to go there? To start a war?"

He actually laughed that time, but it was bitter, and full of irony, "I asked him the same question, but no, he only said 'to stop one.' Tali, the Alliance has a black ops battalion working discreetly in the asteroid field of Bahak. He called them 'The Project.' He said...Tali, they're investigating the Reapers. What they found out...we don't have much time. I'm so sorry."

She saw the fear in his eyes, and her eyes suddenly softened, her position weakened and she hit a sudden realization, "What...what is it? What's happening?"

"You mean what will happen?" Marcus shook his head, crossing his arms as he leaned back, looking at her and his eyes never left hers, "Our time is up, that's what. As of Kenson's last update, that's the leader of the group, the Reapers are set to arrive in just seven days through the Alpha Relay."

Her eyes widened and she was off the desk in seconds, "Seven days!? How long until we reach Aratoht, then!?"

"One day, EDI said. We're making best possible speed," he told her, sighing with a noticable shakiness. He knew the time would come when he would have to face the Reapers head on, but he didn't think it'd be so soon, "That leaves us...me, six whole days to save the galaxy from complete decimation. Which is where it gets dicey; Tali, the project leader...Kenson...she's been captured by the batarians and is being held in a prison on Aratoht for terrorism charges. That's the main reason we're going there. Hackett wants me to bail her out...with force and espionage. Then, I'll take her to Project Base and we'll stop the Reapers from arriving. Hopefully. There has to be a way to stop them, I know it."

Tali hadn't even listened to his last sentence, her mind was too busy going through the horror of what she had just learned. Suddenly however, she realized something as Marcus spoke. She turned to him, posture coming a bit more stiff, "Marcus...you keep saying 'me' and 'I.' What are you hiding?"

He sighed heavily, having dreaded his moment the most, "Tali...he wants me to go in alone. No squad, no Normandy. Just me and my guns. And before you ask, no, you can't come with me either."

And open the gates, let the rage of an angry wife spill out in a giant tsunami. She leapt from the table, pointing an accusing finger in the air like existence itself had decreed what must happen on this mission. Her voice was full of fury, like that of an enraged demon, "What!? How dare he...he has no right to tell you who can and won't go with you! Just who does he think he is! He..." she stopped when she saw Marcus' expression, and her fury found another target in all but a few seconds.

"Oh keelah, no..." Tali she came to realize too late the folly of her presumption, "No...you can't be...you can't be seriously considering it? Going in there alone, noone to protect you...away from me? Please tell me you aren't."

"As much as I loathe to admit it, Hackett is right," her husband said, confirming her fear, and it only made her want to break down into a fit; to slap him, shake him about and make him realize how childish those thoughts were. How idiotic, "Stealth is needed for this mission, and I can't be taking in an entire squad to do that. I need to go in alone; only then can I successfully infiltrate that prison without being spotted and sounding the alarms. You, and the rest of the squad, will be staying on the Normandy for this one. Then, I'll bring Kenson back to the ship and we'll all head to Project Base. Sound good?"

She could only look at him incredulously before violently shoving him in the chest, "Are. You. Insane!? Of course it doesn't sound good! You're going in alone! Into a prison full of people who want you dead! To rescue someone who might or might not be of use to us! What if they do spot you? Will I have to find out my husband has been executed by batarians after he promised to come back to me? To lose you again?" A tear escaped her eye, "How...how can you even contemplate that after the promise you made me..."

He was up on his feet in an instant, wrapping her in a tight hug. She tried to resist, but eventually gave in, throwing her arms around him and clasping them around him tightly, afraid that he may leave her forever. A pitiful sob escaped her throat and she buried her head into his shoulder, "Don't do this. I can't stay up here wondering if you'll ever come back. I need to know you'll be safe. I...keelah, I'm not the only one," she pulled away and took his right hand, placing it gently on her stomach. She looked into his eyes, "What if the serum works? What of our unborn child? Our son or daughter? Will she or he have to be born into a world where the Reapers are wiping out all life and their father, the only hope for all life in the galaxy, is dead, and their mother doesn't know what to do?"

Tali's words moved him, and he felt the pain she was going through, but he couldn't give in. Not this time. Anything else, and Tali might have convinced him. He loved her. God knew he loved her. The crew knew he loved her. The bloody galaxy knew he loved her. And she loved him back, and this is how she showed it. The things they had gone through together would have made others turn away, but Tali hadn't. She had stuck through thick and thin, and their love stayed all the way. They had always fought side by side, but not this time. This was too important. He couldn't risk war between the Hegemony and the Alliance when the Reapers were knocking on their door. Too much was at stake for him to sacrifice all life in the galaxy for his selfish need to be with his wife and keep her happy...too much to risk...

One sentence in the back of his head. Speaking. Taunting him. He recognized it all too well. And the irony of the situation they were placed in.

You will push those you love away in the name of false safeties.

Was this the Prophecy Harbinger spoke of? Would it lead to...to the Requiem?

Its for the best, he kept telling himself, but he could never believe it fully.

He stroked her hair with one hand, his other taking her cheek and cupping it, smiling grimly, "I wish I could take you with me, Tali. Damn it, I wish I could. Truth is, you're not making this any easier than I expected it to be. But I need to do this. I need to go in alone. Besides, if I let a few batarians kill me, then how does that make me look? Geth Slayer, Hero of the Citadel, Beater of Saren Arterius, Destroyer of the Collectors, killed by a few prison guards? You think too lowly of me. You underestimate my ability," he added in jest, trying to cheer her up.

It worked. For a bit. She laughed, but she quickly regained composure, looking back at him, "I know you're trying to make me feel better about this, but you failed. I won't stop worrying. Going alone is a bosh'tet's move, and you know it. At least let Garrus or Kasumi come with you..."

"You're missing the point Tali," Marcus scolded, shaking his head, "I can't take anyone. If I could take even one person, you'd be the first person I'd pick in a heartbeat, but that's not the case. This mission is lone wolf. One person. Me. Hackett chose me. I alone must do this. Noone else. I won't allow anyone else to do this. It would be selfish, irresponsible."

"And going down there alone, isn't?" Tali asked incredulously, shaking her head as he moved in and embraced him again, this time much harder, "Can't you see that I don't want you to go down there without backup...?"

I just want to give in. I just want to hold her and take her with me so we can fight side by side; but now is not her time. I must do this. She needs to be safe; that, and she needs time for the serum to take affect. I must do this alone. Its for the best.

"No. I'm sorry," Marcus stated, sighing heavily, "I promise I'll come back; you'll see. I'll be perfectly fine. No batarian is going to kill me. Besides, its a stealth op. I'll probably be in and out before anyone even knows that Kenson's gone. And if I do need help? Then the Normandy can come and rescue me and Kenson. You shouldn't worry so much."

"I...I have to worry about you. I'm your wife. It's my job," she laughed half-heartedly, shaking her head afterwards, "I just...I understand that you need to do this alone. Please...let me at least put a tracking system in your omni-tool. You know, so I can find you if you...you..."

He smiled at her, taking her hand and kissing the palm of it, "Of course, Tali. And thank you for understanding. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but it has to be. For your sake, mine and Kenson's."

"Okay," she simply replied, meekly surrendering as they both fell into a hushed silence. The cabin was quiet, and all they could hear was the bubbles shooting up from the bottom of the aquarium near by. Finally, Tali gave a big yawn and collapsed forward, burying her face in her husband's chest, "Come on, Marcus. If you're planning on infiltrating a prison all by yourself, you're going to need some sleep first." She reached out her hand, offering it to him.

He had a whole day before they arrived at Aratoht, and he knew he'd have time to review the planet's complete history tomorrow, and he did need the sleep. Giving in, he took the offered hand and let Tali escort him to the bed. Just as they were about to lie on it however, Tali spun around and shoved him onto the mattress, where he then turned over, frowning, "Tali, what are you..."

She landed ontop of him, legs straddling him and hands on his chest as she leaned in, whispering into his ear, "You don't look very tired. We need to fix that," her words were followed by the sound of multiple straps being undone.

It didn't take Marcus long to catch her meaning. He took his shirt off and threw it across the room to the sofa, smiling every step of the way.

He could enjoy these little moments, at least.

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November 16, 2185

1009 hours.

Prison Cell 02, Cell Block B, Aratoht Penitentiary, Aratoht.

Chief Scientist Amanda Kenson, Warden Fertagh.

The cell stunk of refuse. It was seedy, rundown and cleary hadn't received maintenance in...well, never. The room was small too, with just enough room to ram in a dirty mattress; the walls were made of battered stone and you could practically tell how old it was; cracked and splitting in multiple places. It was cold and wet, and water slipped through the cracks in the ceiling, Aratoht's tropical season in fell affect. She was lucky she didn't live on the planet's other hemisphere; otherwise she might have been boiling to death, instead of playing 'dodge the water drops.'

She sat there, crawled up in a fetal position, her greying hair damp from all the water drops leaking onto her head constantly, her eyes constantly scanning her room. There wasn't even a light; she'd give it to the batarians, they knew how to build prisons. This place hadn't seen maintenance for close to a few decades she'd guess, and the people who ran it had been there equally as long. The door was sealed tight, with only the haptic interface being on the other side to avoid people hacking their way out, and incase they managed to do that, they practically had guards around every corner. She was as secure as could be. She wondered what her team was doing.

Most likely planning her rescue. Or my termination. I'm a high value operative, afterall; can't let the batarians learn anything from me, so I have to be eliminated. Would my team actually do that though? They may have a battalion of well-trained marines, but storming this prison would just give what the batarians what they wanted; a reason for war with Earth and her colonies. No, they wouldn't do that. They'd try to terminate her in a different way. She didn't know how, but she knew it would happen eventually. She just had to wait the Hegemony out until they did.

They'd never find Project Base, that she was sure of. The batarians didn't know where to look, for starters, and it was just too well hidden, especially in an asteroid field as big as Bahak's was. No, the Hegemony fleet would be hard-pressed to find anything but the debris of her destroyed explorer vessel.

She didn't remember much; it had faded out alot. She had woken up to find herself cuffed in the brig of a batarian cruiser, one she learnt was called the BRS Glorious Point, under command of a batarian named Sargesh. The batarian had demanded answers from her, but she had none to give. She couldn't remember. So Sargesh had felt entitled to remind her, and it all came rushing back. Remember...why couldn't I remember the destruction of my own ship? My own crew's slaughter? Why couldn't I remember being boarded by batarians of all things? She hadn't much time to find the answer to that, because as soon as he pieced it all together, she had been pulled away into a Hegemony kodiak shuttle and taken to the surface, where she was 'handed over' to the the Aratoht Penitentiary.

And here she was. Wasting away in some cell, waiting for interrogation. Or death. Or worse.

She shuffled where she sat, but apart from that, her movement was at the bare minimum. She hadn't been given any food since she had been captured, and no drink was offered. Her throat was raw and dry, and her stomach growled with the need to be filled; none of which could be satisfied. So she simply sat there, unable to control her body's demands, merely waiting for the inevitable. Her death. Her rescue. Which ever came first. Anything was better than this.

Reapers. Why does that name keep popping up in my head? What's a Reaper? She felt like she almost remembered what it was, but for some reason, everytime she did, a violent and sudden headache would strike her down, and she'd scream and moan for a few moments before it vanished, and she forgot again. It happened constantly, and always with the name Reaper. What was so special about that word? And why does the mere mention of it seem to bring down this foreboding presence down around me?

Something isn't quite right. If only I could remember!

She heard footsteps outside. Loud and echoing with every footfall upon the wet, soggy, cracked stone floor. By the amount of times the sound rung through the walls, she could tell there was more than one person heading down the hall; and she could almost immediately tell who they were coming for.

She almost fled into the corner of the cell, but she refused to do so. She wasn't a coward; sure, she was a scientist, not a warrior or marine. She was unarmed, and those guards were likely to have weapons. Did that scare her? No. Of course it didn't. She couldn't be scared. She stood up, completely fearless against her captors...

...so why did this courage feel so new? So...random?

She heard the footsteps cease, and she heard angry mutterring; yet again, all batarian chatter sounded angry with their deep, croaky voices, so maybe they weren't as angry as she thought. They think you're a terrorist. Yeah, they were definitely angry.

The door shot open, and standing in the frame of the doorway was five batarians all up; one was wearing red and black armor with a skull in the middle of his chest, which was surrounded by circle lined with lettering in batarian. Her translator said it meant 'Warden of Aratoht Prison.' Ah, so he must be the Prison Chief. The four behind him looked to be guards, all of them wearing armor and maskless helmets, all carrying assault rifles and shotguns of some description. Except one; he wore no helmet, and seemed to be holding nothing in his hands at all. He just looked at her with an evaluating glare.

The Warden stood forward into the room, his glare seeming to pierce his helmet and impact Kenson straight in the head. His hands lay lazily at his side, his armor thick and scarred and battered. He moved with an intimidating fervor as he circled Kenson, paying special attention to her reactions. When he was done, he stood inches from her face.

Finally he spoke, his voice cracked and old, "Human...you know why you're here, don't you?"

She barely battered an eyelash as she responded, an insane calm about her, "I know why you think I'm here. Me? I have no clue. You honestly have the wrong, human."

He fumed, latching a hand around her throat and squeezing tightly, "Don't fuck with me, filth. I will wipe the floors with you when I'm done, but first Admiral Uhtero wants to get a few answers out of you. Balak would do it himself, but he's currently unavailable, which leaves you with me. You're a terrorist. You tried to blow up our relay, and you will soon pay the price. But when I'm done with you, you'll beg for a quick death."

She laughed as he loosened her grip, Kenson seemingly insane in the way she treated the situation, and subconsciously, she didn't quite understand her attitude either, "I'm a terrorist? How prude of you! You gave the gall to accuse me of terrorism when all you batarians are good for is slaving and killing and committing terrorism. Or have you forgotten the Blitz, already?"

He spun towards her, fist flying with him as he impacted her in the jaw, sending her flying into the nearby wall, a smear of blood coating the area where her mouth impacted. She got back up, spitting out the loose tooth that had fallen out. Blood bled into her mouth, and it was an unpleasant feeling, but she seemed numb to it as she wiped her mouth and reciprocated the Warden's glare. The batarian spoke once more.

"Watch your tongue human, or I'll make sure your torture is dragged out even longer," he turned to two of his guards and motioned his hands to them, "Move her to interrogation cell 5. Hook her up and our interrogator can have some fun with her." His eyes locked back onto her as the two guards moved forward and grabbed a hold of each of her arms, dragging her out of the cell and down the equally cold stone corridor.

This part of the prison was by far the ugliest; it looked the slums of Khar'Shan, almost. Just like her cell it was smelly, disgusting, and putrid. Water dripped from rotten pipelines and pits of caved in ceiling, and it was overall poorly-maintained. Cells littered the entire cell block, and the many other cell blocks, but most of them were empty; most of their contents either sent to Khar'Shan for execution or trial, or they simply didn't get many. Who wanted to visit the Viper Nebula, anyway? Especially not for criminal activity.

They travelled through the many cell blocks until they eventually reached the more heavily-protected part of the prison; the cargo bay, storage compartments, personnel quarters, the Warden's office, communications, the armoury, and of course, the interrogation cells. She was dragged every inch of the way, jagged pieces of metal or random bits of rubbish poking, scrapping and stabbing at her ankles as she was dragged along, and she was pretty sure she was going to have a lot of injuries and blisters soon.

But they were the least of her concerns. They finally dragged her down a group of stairs and brought her into a small cell; there was two glass observation windows, one in the corridor and another that was one way and more than likely lead into a small office, where the guards could examine whatever horrors the interrogators put on their captives.

The interrogation seat itself was of odd design, but she had been familiarized with it. It was a normal seat with arm and leg rests, along with straps for both, but there was one unique design piece; jutting out of the back and arching menacingly over it hung a long arm appendage that ended in a ring like object; that ring object had numerous needles lining the middle, and two laser units in the middle front. The head was meant to go in the middle of that ring.

They dragged her over it, and she accepted her fate meekly. They sat her down in it, strapping her legs into the chair, followed by her arms. They quickly brought the halo appendage done and around her temple, and she closed her eyes, shifting in the seat before opening them again, meeting the eyes of her interrogator. It was the same man she had seen before; the one without a helmet and without a weapon. He stood there, his arms crossed and a console beside him, which gave him full command of the chair's systems and the pain he could inflict with it.

The warden patted him on the shoulder, smiling, "Tell me when you're done with her. If she breaks, tell me what she says and we'll relay it to command and Sargesh. If she doesn't break, then we'll feed her to the varren pits, no matter. Balak won't find; those animals are getting alittle hungry anyway. Remember, ask her what matters; we need to know who she works for and what she was trying to achieve with blowing up our relay. Pointless questions, I know, but the Hegemony wants to know, so we'll deliver. Have fun," with a final pat on the shoulder, he left the cell, followed by the other four guards, door shutting behind them and leaving the interrogator and Kenson alone. The silence seemed to echo through the room, and it was then that Kenson decided that the room wasn't much different from her cell.

She refused to meet his eyes at first, but she eventually did, and she only saw hate in them. His voice croaked as he made his way over into the console, typing in a few commands. She winced as a split second of heat pierced her head, but it was a split second of agony and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out. He met her eyes, laughing, "That's only a taste of what's to come, human. Tell us what you were planning to do. Why did you try to destroy the Alpha Relay. Answer me human, or we'll go through a new round of pain."

She didn't answer. And the batarian kept his promise.

It continued for hours.

Neverending hours.

But she never gave in. A presence in her head persisted. Eventually, she became more and more numb to the agony in her body, and her head blocked out the batarian's voice. All she could hear was what persisted in her head. It scared. Eventually, she made out a voice.

Prepare for our arrival.

"Here we go. The end run."

- Marcus Shepard.

"Just get on with it. What happened on Aratoht?"

- Reia'Inas pav Earth.

"Its not what happened on Aratoht...its what happened after Aratoht."

- Marcus Shepard.

A/N:

Shortest chapter ever? Probably. But its only a taste. Chapter 30 I hope to get out soon, and it'll be in two parts; those two parts alone will cover the Arrival DLC in its entirety, I hope. Its going to be one crazy ride. This is where everything hits its climax...for now.

The Requiem has arrived, my friends. Time to achieve this story's namesake.