And all my doubt is a staircase for you

Up and out of this maze…

6 months later

Aurelia Vaxus was eager to be back on Palaven. After nearly five months of being stranded in the Sol system, she was relieved to have returned home, even if home was nearly a desolate wasteland.

Aurelia was a determined, young turian. Perhaps slightly shy, and maybe a little unsure of herself. She was a bit ignorant when it came to the tactics of war, having just recently graduated from the Academy. She had served on the Hadrian, one of the largest dreadnoughts in the turian military, during the Reaper War, pulled from the Academy prematurely to aid in the war effort. Though, after the defeat of the Reapers, she went back to finish her last term.

She counted herself among the lucky ones, having lost no one close to her during the war, but she knew countless other families who had been torn apart in the last year and a half. Many clans still had members missing in action or pronounced KIA.

Spirits, why was I so fortunate, when others were not? she had thought to herself more often than not. The whole damn war had been unfair.

Now, she was back on Palaven, pencil pushing for the last four months. Normally she would have been upset with the prospect of having a desk job, but this specific job would be crucial to her young career. Aurelia was still a bit unsure of how she had landed this position, but she wasn't complaining. Though, come to think of it, there were a number of rumors spread about the office staff by the younger interns that she had slept with the new Primarch for the position. If anyone knew her, even just slightly, the prospect of it was laughable.

A career in Cipritine, employed by politicians, had made her father proud and brought honor to her clan. Aurelia was beyond elated to serve in any way her superiors saw fit, particularly if it meant keeping stability within a weakened civilization.

Presently, she stood in the back of a large conference room of the capital building, one of the first structures to be rebuilt. The hierarchy was, after all, the most essential part of turian civilization. Aurelia clutched several datapads tightly to her chest, as she listened to the Director of Staff review the agenda for the day. A number of other young turian interns asked questions, but Aurelia knew her duties. Despite what others may say to her or about her, she reported to only one other individual.

She watched as the others finished and left the conference room. She waited until she was completely alone before setting down her datapads and bringing up her omni-tool interface. She quickly typed a few things in and glanced at her own reflection in the mirror above the food and drink table.

While she didn't want to admit it, Aurelia was in no way regarded as unattractive, at least by turian standards. Her white clan markings shown in heavy contrast against her dark plates and carapace. Her golden eyes looked back at her, through the reflection of the mirror, with mild curiosity. She wasn't too tall or too short. And her crest was slightly longer than most turian women. She looked a spitting image of her mother, except for her eyes. Her eyes, she had definitely inherited those from her father.

Glancing back down at her omni-tool, Aurelia poured a glass of a cold dextro- tea, something quarian. She picked up the tumbler and her datapads and left the conference room the same way her coworkers had.

Time to begin the day, she said to herself. Maybe her boss wouldn't be so callous today.

As Aurelia pushed the button of the elevator to take her to the upper levels, she had to chuckle to herself. That would be a miracle… for her boss to not be so damn cold.

It wasn't that she would say she disliked the older turian, it was just that he was so closed off and not very personable. She had to admit though, he was intimidating as hell.

The elevator arrived after a time, in no hurry to get anywhere fast. Aurelia boarded it, shifting her datapads and the cup as the doors slid shut.

She watched as the numbers ticked by, humming a turian anthem quietly to herself. At long last, the elevator reached her floor. She strode by the secretary in the reception area, bowing her head in recognition as she passed. The secretary watched Aurelia over the top edge of her omni-tool. Aurelia rolled her eyes when she reached the doors to her superior's office. The receptionist's head was probably already teeming with gossip ready to spread about the office at a moment's notice.

Aurelia knocked once on the office doors and entered.

Her employer had his back to her, facing a large screen on the opposite wall.

"Prima-" Aurelia began. Without turning to face her, he held up his hand to silence her. She immediately obeyed. He was in the middle of a vid-chat, with a young asari maiden.

As he spoke, Aurelia regarded him. He was taller than most turians, standing nearly six and a half feet tall at full height. However, it seemed to her that he nearly always stood slightly stooped, as though he was contending with a burden too heavy to bear, though he would not admit it, least of all to her. He was a battle hardened soldier, with a gruff, unemotional demeanor. Scars crisscrossed a large portion of his visible body, including one side of his face, distorting his blue clan markings.

As he spoke with the asari, he leaned heavily on his desk, one arm crossed horizontally over his chest, while the other rubbed his eyes in what appeared to be weariness. His sub-vocals saying as much.

Aurelia glanced around the office as she always did, taking in personal relics he used to decorate it with. A Black Widow sniper rifle was mounted on the wall to her left, a geth assault rifle hung underneath it. From what she understood, the Black Widow was an Alliance developed weapon that had been purchased by the Council for Spectres in stealth operations, but she couldn't be entirely sure. On the wall to her right, a large glass case held a multitude of model ship souvenirs. Why in the galaxy he would collect such a thing, she could never guess. Next to the large vid-screen though, was the most bizarre thing in the whole office. Another glass case was hooked up to tubes and what appeared to be a ventilation system. In the glass container, was a hideous, furry, little creature that preferred to hide in its little house rather than to observe the world around it. Aurelia didn't dare ask what the hell it was though. On his desk, several datapads were scattered about haphazardly. A blue, high tech targeting visor lay in several pieces off to one side, apparently abandoned. Next to that was a set of worn, human military dog tags.

He was a very strange turian.

"Alright… thanks Liara… keep the updates coming. I want to know the second you find anything," he had finally finished his conversation, turning off the vid-screen with a tap to his omni-tool. He turned around, not making eye contact with Aurelia, slouching down in his oversized chair.

He looked out of place in a politician's office, wearing politician's garments. He would have looked more at home staring down the scope of his Widow. He held his head in his hand, clearly exhausted, while his other hand drifted aimlessly to the dog tags lying on his desk.

"Primarch? Primarch Vakarian? Sir?" Aurelia said gently. "I-I have the datapads you requested. I also took the liberty of bringing you some of that quarian tea they had downstairs…" she winced. The words had just tumbled out all too quickly and she berated herself for sounding so childish.

Not saying a word, he stood back up, clutching the dog tags firmly in his hand. The Primarch trudged to his large window facing the streets of Cipritine. He rested his fist with the tags against the glass, and silence overtook them.

"Sir," Aurelia was uncertain how to proceed. "Are you alright?" she finally asked. After several awkward moments of silence, the Primarch finally spoke.

"Have you heard the latest office gossip?" he said with a hint of distaste.

"I'm not really sure-" her voice broke off.

"Apparently, you and I are sleeping together, and that's how you got this job…"

"I don't-"

He waved his free hand in the air to ward off any more uncomfortable responses, "You haven't lost anyone close to you have you?"

"No, sir… I was very fortunate…"

"Yea, I suppose you were," he sighed. He then turned to face her, extending his opened hand to her. "You see these?"

Aurelia hesitated.

"Go ahead, take a look," he said, thrusting the tags toward her. She set the tumbler and the datapads on his desk and took the cool metal chain from her superior, but not before glancing up at him to make sure he wasn't testing her. When he gave no indication he was, she turned them over in her hands, unfamiliar with the human words upon them.

The Primarch looked at his feet, saying in a low voice, "Aurora Shepard, Systems Alliance Navy, Council Spectre, Commander. Her ID number, 5923-AC-2826… I've read them over and over again, memorizing every word, every number, every scratch and imperfection,"

"I'm not sure if I'm the one you should be telling this to... Sir," Aurelia added hastily.

The Primarch snorted, his subvocals full of contempt, "Aurelia... I have friends in high places... A quarian admiral, the Shadow Broker, a Justicar, a krogan battlemaster, numerous human contacts, and yet, not a single one of them is on this whole damn planet… I'm in mourning… I've lost the only woman I have ever pledged my heart to, and as the days pass by, I fear more and more I won't ever see her again."

Aurelia offered the tags back to him, hesitant of where this conversation was going, "I know Shepard was your commander, and a damn hero at that… but what has she got to do with your mourning?" She hoped to the spirits that she wasn't overstepping her boundaries.

The older turian took the tags from her and regarded her with his beady grey eyes… cold, calculating… sad…

"You really are naïve, aren't you," he said more as a statement of fact, rather than a question.

She remained silent.

He walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, lifting a datapad carefully from it. He handed it to her.

She tapped the screen, and it lit up a picture. It showed a turian and a human… female. After a minute or so, Aurelia realized it was the Primarch, and (her heart sinking) the Commander Shepard. The two were in what appeared to be a bar or a club. Their bodies were pressed so close together, that no daylight could escape… The pair was… dancing? The Primarch's mandibles were flared wide, his eyes were lit up as she had never seen them before. He was smiling. They were both wearing civilian dress clothes. He looked very smart in dark blue and white clothing, while she wore a very skin tight silver dress that complimented his metallic plates. Her red hair was cut chin length and she was grinning from ear to ear. The picture depicted the two gazing long into each other's eyes, completely unaware of the scandalized looks they were receiving from onlookers and oblivious to a picture being taken of them.

Everything came full circle for Aurelia; she finally understood why the older turian was the he was. Why he was so distant and kept to himself when he wasn't overseeing rebuilding projects or meeting with other politicians or handing out medals. She was startled, to say the least.

Speechless, she brought a hand to her mouth in shock, handing the datapad back to the Primarch. He took it from her, brow plates furrowing as he replaced it in its drawer.

"Lt. Vega took that while we were on shore leave… He also taught me that dance… For her… I can't remember if it was a salsa or a tango…" he said more to himself.

"I am so sorry Primarch," Aurelia said quietly. "I really had no idea…"

"Not very many people do… If anyone ever asked, we always played it off as a joke. The only ones that really knew were our close friends on the Normandy. The mission always came first… Always," he closed his eyes, reminiscing. "I would have followed her into the darkest reaches of space… Shit… we all would have. She had a way of making you want to fight for what she believed in. Her prerogatives became ours. She believed that everyone still had some good left inside them… Benezia, Saren, the Illusive Man… Hell, she even saved me from losing myself to revenge…"

He crossed his arms across his carapace, shifted his weight and turned his head back to the window, seemingly consuming himself with her memories.

Aurelia could hardly believe what she had just heard. A human and a turian? In love? It wasn't unheard of but it was most certainly looked down upon.

"Aurelia… I'd prefer if you kept this conversation to yourself," he said not looking back at her. "Palaven doesn't need to know I'm not a very good turian…"

She nodded and turned to go, taking with her everything the Primarch had said. As she pushed the office door open, she heard him say, with his subharmonics quaking, "Damnit Shepard… I can't do this alone."

By the end of the day, Aurelia had resolved that the whole ordeal was indeed tragic.

Updated 6/6/14