Chapter 35: Dark
The thing about the darkness is that to fear it is ridiculous.
The darkness is harmless, impalpable.
The darkness simply is.
One would be forgiven to assume that the darkness is at peace, because it is only empty. This is because the darkness is pure, devoid of anything that may break its stillness; passion, conflict, sorrows, all of which do not exist in the embrace of the black void. It is only when the darkness has become impure that these afflictions arise.
It is only with these afflictions that sin becomes manifest.
And slowly, surely, the darkness would fester, and something primal came bubbling out of its purulent wounds, clawing its way to spread the contagion of its existence.
The scraping of talons.
The chattering of fangs.
The screeching of bloodlust.
The eerie glow of crimson eyes, as if filling the darkness with a sea of red stars.
No, you must not fear the darkness.
You must fear whatever lurks in it.
Because whatever lurks in the darkness is very, very hungry…
Viktor Zsasz opened his eyes, marvelling at the wondrous view of the cosmos through his ship's bridge. He could feel it more and more as they got closer to Omega. It was a strange force that kept tugging at the very fibre of his being, pulling him towards an uncertain direction. Like hearing the faint echoes of a beautiful song in the distance, he was drawn to it, captivated by its melody, wanting to hear it more clearly.
Even the usually reserved Silence seemed on edge as they got closer and closer to their destination. The woman was the one primarily flying the ship, and Zsasz noted that she would always take a direct route, cutting through debris and asteroid fields if only it could take them just a little bit faster to the rogue space station. A ghastly crew of husks created by Zsasz was mechanically manning the other stations, going about their duties silently as they made sure the ship was working in fine order.
He could only imagine how wonderful it must have felt for the Patriarch and Tarrana, the two being practically on top of that shining beacon that tantalized him even from this distance.
It was their God calling out to them with arms wide open, golden halo radiating around Him as His light pierced through the Sodom that was Omega. It was only fitting that the Father was reborn in that wretched hive that worshipped sin. Indeed, Omega was most blessed that something so pure would deign to even touch something so foul. His coming would cleanse the filth of that station with His purifying flames as the day of salvation came at hand.
The Father would not just save the galaxy from the Reapers; He would save the galaxy from itself.
But all of that hinged on one man.
Salvation hinged on the actions of The Messiah.
Salvation hinged on the choices of the resurrected Saren Arterius.
But Saren Arterius, for all of his words to the contrary, was still not a believer in the cause. He still resisted the sweet song of the Father, despite being His most favored son. Zsasz frowned at the thought, but it was not enough to spoil his mood. That would soon be dealt with; nobody could resist the Father's sway for long.
Right now, Saren was only along for the ride to satisfy his curiosity. He does not know that Shepard was on Omega, and that was by intention. He could not risk losing Saren should the two face each other again in combat, no matter how powerful the Messiah was over the human. Saren was just too important to let him indulge in the mortal folly of vengeance, and his purpose was far greater than what anybody could imagine. Unfortunately, the moment Saren finds out about Shepard, Zsasz would only be able to do so little to stop him short of force.
So they had to deal with Shepard before it could come to that.
Shepard was a complication. He was supposed to die taking care of the Collector threat, ensuring that two thorns had been plucked from their side in the process. But Shepard had survived, despite impossible odds, along with his entire ragtag crew of sinners and miscreants. That was proof enough of the danger he posed should he keep living.
Zsasz rubbed his chin as Silence bobbed and weaved through an asteroid field like a maniac. For the sake of salvation, long before Saren can even touch foot on Omega, Shepard had to die. They had twelve hours left before they arrived at the infamous space station, enough time for him to perish. It was a wonder that Shepard was still alive to begin with, especially since he had not one, but two of Zsasz's siblings to deal with.
There was the Patriarch, the rook of their foundation, whose strength was only exceeded by his cunning. When he had found him, broken and destitute, he was only more than willing to listen to the word of the Father, receiving His divine gift. He was the repentant sinner-turned-prophet, who cast out his darkness to let the Father's light shine through him for others. Through him, they will hear His words.
Then there was Tarrana, the wild card, whose whims and fancies changed with the cosmic wind. But make no mistake; she was ever devoted to their Father like a spoiled, needy daughter. Indeed she was spoiled, because out of all of them, even including the Messiah, Tarrana was blessed with the most beautiful of divine gifts, practically making her ever living. Zsasz was ashamed to say that he was jealous of her once. He was jealous, until he realized just how vital Tarrana was to the Father's plan. She was the constant amidst their variables. Should everything somehow fall, Tarrana would always be left standing.
Yes, having the both of them on Omega at the same time was enough to ensure their success, but Zsasz wouldn't take any chances; Not with Shepard. The man had a way with fate. Somehow, no matter the odds, he would always gravitate towards the events that would forever change the galaxy. Somehow, and more amazingly so, he was also able to stop them from happening.
To have left him to his own devices would have been the end of them, so he had to make him predictable. Leaking their plans and existence to Dr. Liara T'Soni, aka the Shadow Broker, gave Shepard a target to close in on, but it also gave them fair warning as to where he would be coming at them from.
Zsasz scratched his chin, deep in thought. It would be preferable for Shepard to die.
Omega. Who would've thought that the beginning of His glory could be found in a place named after the end? Zsasz just couldn't get over it, a dreadful grin spreading across his face. It was just so suitably poetic.
For years now, the Patriarch was tasked with finding the relic hidden in Omega. But it was only recently that they discovered how precious this relic truly was.
It was a piece of the Father.
Not a fragment, not a sliver, but a whole piece of their divine God.
That had changed everything, and the Father spoke to him through the blood coursing through his veins, detailing to him the next step of the plan that they now undertook. It seemed like fate that they found this piece right at the brink of the next Reaper harvest. Up until that point, they had worked in the shadows, gathering bits and specks from all across the galaxy, collecting it and hiding it in a cache for the next civilization after the Reapers would wipe them out, as did the Children of previous civilizations before them had done. And yes, there were those that had come before, in times long past among beings long dead. They were not as powerful as Zsasz and his siblings from this cycle, but they did their part.
It was slow and tedious, but it all worked towards the inevitable rise of the Father. But gaining an entire piece, larger than all the dust that they have amassed through the cycles, was enough to start the next phase of salvation countless millennia earlier than planned. They were the generation that was chosen to not just herald, but facilitate His coming.
After millions of years, they were about to bring their God back into this plane of existence. The Father was the only force powerful enough to stand up to the Reapers; A bastion of glory against a wave of despair.
And Shepard was the only thing standing in the way of that becoming a glorious reality. Yes, it would be preferable for Shepard to die, indeed.
The door behind him slid open, and the heavy footfalls of metal boots stepped into the bridge. Zsasz smiled, not bothering to turn as he greeted his brother. "Sleep well, hmm?"
Saren ignored the question completely as he aggressively brushed past several of the husk crewmen, knocking them aside to stand beside Zsasz, arms folded over his chest. "Is there a reason that that woman is flying around like a maniac?" He said unperturbed as the ship slid past a narrow gap between two large asteroids. "I mean, I can't help but notice we're going through an asteroid field? Really?"
Zsasz merely shrugged. "Who knows?" He said, waggling his brows at him. "Maybe you should go ask her yourself?" It was disturbing, Zsasz thought underneath his warm demeanor, that Saren was not feeling the force that affected both himself and Silence.
Saren, for his part, merely scoffed. "I'm sure I wouldn't get an answer." He said, still feeling ill at ease in the presence of the woman. They both stood there for a while, just marveling how Silence managed not to turn the ship into a fiery wreck. He was pretty sure that not even they could survive the vacuum of space. Not for long, anyway. "This piece of our... Father." Saren said, not liking how the word rolled off his tongue. "What can it do, exactly?"
"It will save us all." Zsasz replied, causing Saren to roll his eyes.
"Yes, yes, salvation and all that. You've said it before…" He said, waving it off dismissively. "But how will it 'save' us, exactly?"
Zsasz stroked his beard, closing his eyes in deep thought. "Haven't a clue." He said after a long moment.
"You're serious?" Saren said, raising a single eyebrow at Zsasz's toothy grin. He shook his head, turning to look back at Silence's piloting just in time to see her successfully go through another potentially fatal situation. He was starting to wonder whether Zsasz truly was a fool or he was even better at playing the fool than he previously realized.
Maybe both.
Either way, the piece of this 'god' must be something very powerful to claim that it would save them all. If it falls into the hands of somebody like Zsasz, the results could be dire. Even if it could stop the Reapers as Zsasz loved to tout, what would the man do with it afterwards? Power like that wasn't just discarded by people who know how to use them. Saren could only scoff at his own train of thought. For all he knew, this piece of god was completely worthless and he was just wrapped up in the wild goose chase of fanatics and mad men. Still, he reasoned, the piece falling into Zsasz's hands might spell a darker future for the galaxy than what the Reapers could ever hope to accomplish with his zeal.
Power like that wouldn't be safe in anybody's hands.
But in his hands however…
Saren toyed with the thought in his head. Ridiculous as it maybe, there may be some merit to tagging along with Zsasz, after all.
But idle fantasies could wait, he thought, touching his face and feeling very alien soft cheeks against his fingers. He had thought of disfiguring himself, just to keep from staring at the man every time he saw his reflection. It was appealing at first, and then he realized how… juvenile that was. This was reality. Truth be told, he wasn't even angry at Shepard. Not as angry as you would think anyway.
No, he was not angry at John Shepard at all.
Rather, it was the principle of it. A man like that had values that got in the way of a man like himself. Saren Arterius had his own agendas in the making to save this galaxy from the Reapers, and John Shepard would eventually only get in his way. He knew this because he was John Shepard, in a sense anyway. He could glean the echoes of the mind that once dominated this body; a sheer paragon of virtue, but there was more underneath that blinding white noise. It was like staring into the surface of a calm ocean, and only catching glimpses of the tumultuous currents in the depths.
Either way, he had died, but now he was back. What would he make of this second chance? He had plenty to think about. Maybe this little foray into Omega would clear his head and give him focus?
Saren had been indoctrinated; a mere puppet for the will of the Reapers. He had realized this now, and looking back, he saw how unnatural it had felt to be under their thrall. John Shepard was only the one who stopped him from being used. The man had not killed him, but rather set him free. But if he were to believe Zsasz, then their roles had been switched. Shepard was now the indoctrinated puppet, and the weight of the galaxy was now on his shoulders. Then again, it was always on Saren's shoulders.
He clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked and turned white.
Yes, if their places have been swapped, the least he could do was return the favor.
After years of abandonment, Aria's safe house was suddenly rocked with activity as dozens of people scrambled back and forth inside the hangar and armory, kicking up the dust that had settled in through the years. The air filters had reactivated, sucking away most of the dust while rendering the air to be more breathable for them to take their helmets off. Dirty tarps were being lifted off of old vehicles while guns and thermal clips were being dug out of storage by the armful and passed around. The generator roared ominously, though muffled as it came from the floor below, lending an intense atmosphere as Shepard's small army made their preparations.
It had been half an hour since the Normandy had to leave the area to satellite around Omega on Shepard's orders, so there was no turning back now.
Jacob took a deep breath as he went over the guns in front of him, lining them up on a long table. He was like a kid in a candy shop. These particular models may not be the latest and greatest in ballistic weaponry, but old and proven could stand just as well on its own. He ran each through a quick gamut of diagnostics, testing their slides, triggers, clip ejection and other mechanisms. Despite being left untouched for years, the guns were passing his standards with flying colors. Aria must have been keeping them in good maintenance before having to store them away.
He needed this right now, he thought, as he handed out the batch and received a new bunch of guns to test. The mechanical process of checking guns had become cathartic to him after all these years that it felt like he was meditating when he did it.
Still, that didn't mean that his head was clear. In his peripheral vision, he could see wavy brunette hair bouncing as Miranda walked by with several of the Shadow Broker agents, engaging them in serious conversation. The Normandy XO was probably coordinating the convoy for when they set out. He followed her with the corners of his eyes until the group disappeared behind a large APC. She didn't seem worse for wear after what had happened between them just a few hours ago. And why the hell would she, anyway? She wasn't emotionally invested into him like he was into her.
Man, it was unbelievable how much he had fucked this up. I mean just look at himself; pining for a woman who had no romantic interest in him whatsoever. Like a goddamn scrub. He had to put down the pistol he was holding so that he could grab the bridge of his nose, sighing discreetly.
"Something you need to get off your chest?"
Jacob looked up to see that Shepard was leaning on the table beside him, arms folded across his chest, a look of worry etched on his face.
"No, sir." Jacob said flatly as he got back up and got right back into checking the guns as if nothing had happened.
"Really?" Shepard persisted. "Doesn't seem like it."
"All's well and good, Shepard." Jacob replied. "Don't worry about it."
Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Bullshit, Taylor. I can read you like an open book."
"Like an open book, huh?" Jacob said, turning to him. "Have you read chapter one? It's entitled 'None of your damn business.' Sir." He said, adding on that last part with as much disdain as he respectfully could.
The two men stared each other down, those around them completely oblivious to the aura of intensity that the pair exuded. Finally, Shepard broke off eye-contact first, taking a deep breath before he started chuckling. Jacob was caught off guard by this, a confused look breaking past the impassive sneer on his face.
"What's so funny?"
"Sorry. Sorry." Shepard said as he tried to reel in the laughter. "It's just that I finally have some context as to why Zaeed had to resort to fighting you to get his point across."
Jacob's eyes widened at this. "Hold on, hold on…" he said. "Zaeed hasn't been saying stuff 'bout me, right?"
"Nah, but if you have to get into a fist fight, make sure that one of you has the foresight to disable the surveillance cams."
The surveillance cameras! Of course!
But then that must mean that… Jacob slapped his forehead as the realization dawned on him. "She knows." He mumbled in disbelief. Damn it, he should have remembered; he set some of those damned bugs up himself. Well, they took down the ones inside the private rooms but the rest were still active. Great, just great. Having eye witnesses there was bad enough, but word of mouth wasn't reliable, and Miri wasn't a gossip. The problem was that some of the bugs had clear audio. Not only was he acting like a scrub, he was acting like a scrub under Miranda's watchful eyes with context to boot. "Oh dear lord, she knows."
Shepard scrunched his brows. "Who does?" he asked.
"Miri." Jacob said despairingly before he could stop himself.
Well, score one for women's intuition, Shepard thought to himself thinking back on Tali's prediction about Jacob's plight. The look of abject horror on Jacob's face was amusing as the other man seemed unable to get over that one point. "Well? Don't stop now." He said, egging Jacob on and shaking him from his trance.
"Come on, Shepard." Jacob said. "Look, if you're worrying that this'll affect my performance in the field, I assure you that it won't."
"Just like how you handled Aria?"
He tried not to wince at the mention of what he did earlier, taunting the erstwhile despot of Omega. "Alright, I'll give you that one." Jacob conceded. "But I got it under control, don't worry."
"Well, you're right in that I'm worried about your performance in the field, but that's just one reason…" Shepard replied. "The other reason is that I'm your friend."
Jacob rolled his eyes. "You're not going to take no for an answer, huh?"
"Look Jacob, you're wound up tighter than a spring." Shepard began. "You're gonna have to let it out before you implode."
The other man sighed and Jacob leaned against the table himself.
"Alright, alright." He conceded. "Where do I even start?"
"Well, that thing about Miranda would be a good place as any." Shepard offered.
"Right… Well, you know how I and she used to be a thing?" He began. "Well, as you know, it didn't work out last time… I've been working up the nerve to talk to her, tell her that I wanted to try again." He paused, looking towards the high ceiling. "Long story short: She didn't."
"That sounds rough." Shepard said. "I'm sorry."
"Just about. And don't be." He confirmed. "Now here I am, feeling like some heartbroken little kid that just got dumped by the most popular girl in school. It's just that I thought that we had a thing together, you know? I mean, I know I felt my part of the connection…" he said, eyes shining with nostalgia, before shattering with cynic reality. "I just thought that she did too."
They were both quiet for a few moments before Shepard spoke up gently. "So how'd you two break up in the first place, anyway?"
Jacob just scratched the back of his head. "I don't know… Things were going great; at least they looked like that to me at the time." He started. "But then she slowly started to push me away. Just little hints here and there that I was too stupid or optimistic to catch up on. At first I thought she was just being career driven, but soon the sweet kisses goodnight became a dismissive wave of the hand and an impatient sendoff…" Jacob trailed off. He hadn't realized that hearing himself recount those events again could make him feel so… down. "I guess at the time… our relationship had been over long before she told me."
He paused, and the two men leaned on the table in silence.
Shepard remained quiet, and Jacob realized the other man was giving him time to handle himself. He cleared his throat, and then massaged the bridge of his nose. "So, yeah… At the time, I had just recently found myself in Cerberus colors." He couldn't resist a mirthful chuckle at the memory. "Heh, never thought I'd live to see the day…"
"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't." Shepard said, making Jacob smirk beside himself. "So anyway, go on…"
"Well, anyway… Things were okay for a while. I took a cue from Miranda and buried myself in my work." He saw the sudden glint in Shepard's eye. "Oh it was nothing shady, just some good ol' black ops justice, hunting down pirates and slavers preying on human colonies on the fringe." Jacob reassured him. "I must've done one hell of a job because the Illusive Man was impressed enough to give me a top assignment." He continued, looking at Shepard in the eye. "I was assigned to Miranda's cell, with the primary purpose of keeping both of you alive as Miranda brought you back to life. It was hard… seeing her looking so over with me while I was still in mourning. It was damn hard. But, you know how she is, ever the professional. So I got over it. After a while we became friends again."
"So what changed that?"
"Nah… Nothing changed." Jacob dismissed. "I never fell for her all over again. The truth is that I never got over her. I just thought that with time, maybe she'd realized she wasn't over me too."
"But she was."
"Yeah, yeah she was. It's been a long time…" Jacob nodded somberly. He looked down at his feet and at the floor, the weight of sheer emotion weighing him down. It's been weighing him down for a while now.
"Sounds like you've been living with this pain for quite a while…" Shepard began quietly, the two men an island of somber quiet amidst the hustle around them. "But you don't have to, you know?"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't have to hold on to the pain. You just have to do something about it."
Jacob scoffed. "Right, as if it were that easy."
"How can you say that if you haven't even tried yet?" Shepard insisted.
"Oh I've tried…" he insisted.
"Doesn't seem like you've tried hard enough." Shepard dismissed.
Jacob opened his mouth to say something, but as the thought sunk in, he couldn't find any words to say. He was pissed. He felt his fists clench and his vision turn red. He was about to explode. "Where the hell do you even get off, lecturing me like this?" Jacob sneered.
"I'm trying to help you." Shepard replied calmly.
"It was a good talk, Shepard, but your help is not wanted."
"Clearly it's needed."
"Oh yeah? Just like how Torfan clearly needed your help?" he balked. "Because you sure made that situation better."
Without saying a word, Shepard got off the table and straightened up, prompting Jacob to do the same. The other man walked a few steps to stand in front of him, his face unreadable. He realized that a line had been crossed, but he didn't care. Fuck it, he didn't care at all.
The somber silence slowly turned into a foreboding one as Shepard said nothing. It was even more unnerving that Shepard's expression barely flinched, but something radiated from the man as he stood there in front of Jacob. Something dark and sinister seeped from the man, clawing and twisting at the very air around him, and Jacob swore he felt a chill run up his spine.
Shepard's hand moved in a snap of motion, catching Jacob unaware. But rather than the impact that he had expected, what he felt was a weight on his shoulder as the other man clasped it.
"That's enough lashing out at your friends." Shepard said firmly, looking into his eyes. "You have to do something about it."
"What?" Jacob said stunned at what just happened. He was expecting a punch, maybe even a bullet. But this? This was out of left field.
"You have to do something about it, Jacob." Shepard repeated, before turning around to walk away. "Fight or flight, soldier. If I learned anything after living with what I did on Torfan, a man can get drawn around by fate, but a soldier can choose how it ends."
Jacob felt a mixed surge of relief and regret course through him as the man walked off. This was turning out to be quite the day. Not only did he just survive giving Aria T'loak some smart ass cracks at her expense, but he'd just provoked the most dangerous man in the galaxy with a very touchy topic without so much as getting a split lip out of it. What he got however was one of the deepest things he's heard the man say.
Damn it, he thought, realizing just how badly he had treated Shepard. He was going to ruin friendships left and right if this kept up. So maybe it is high time to stop this train in its tracks before it crashes and burns.
"A soldier chooses how it ends, huh?" he mumbled to himself as he turned back to work on the guns. "Goddamn, I really am a scrub."
Meanwhile, outside Aria's safehouse, a sea of red eyes have gathered in the dark, talking and bickering amongst themselves in shrill voices and hisses. The vorcha that wandered No Man's Land were restless, gathered by the promise of meat and shiny things.
A long time ago, driven away from the more civilized sides of the station, these vorcha gathered together and formed savage tribes in the dark and forgotten corners of Omega. Thriving on scrap and refuse, their society flourished, hidden away from the rest of the station, making their homes in abandoned complexes or jury-rigging their own from whatever they could salvage.
Even by vorcha standards, they looked savage. Their armor was made up of cobbled up scrap fastened with wiring and held together by hasty welding and haphazardly placed bolts. It was decorated by bones and scrap, painted in clashing colors, as if the wearer had been forced to use what he could scavenge at the time. Their weapons fared no better, seeming as a random mish mash of scrap pounded and cobbled up into the general shape of a gun. To compensate, they each carried long, rusted, jagged blades that hung from their hips or their backs.
The clamor died down as a large, commanding vorcha raised its sword in the air, shrieking a terrible howl that silenced the rest. "Hnnng… What's going on? Who summoned this gathering?" He snarled, looking at the crowd around him. He grabbed a random vorcha to his right. "Answer me!" he snarled in its face.
The other vorcha could only sputter and stammer incoherently, causing the alpha to snarl in annoyance and shove the terrified fool away. "You bore me!" Before the poor vorcha could breathe a sigh of relief, however, the alpha roared and slashed him messily in half with his sword from the head down. The jagged blade ground through bone and flesh, leaving two mauled halves of vorcha falling to the ground. The alpha knelt down and slashed off an arm from the corpse, picking it up and sinking his teeth into the stinking flesh. After a few messy bites, the alpha tossed the arm away and wiped his bloody maw on his forearm. "I eat when I'm bored." He snarled, picking up both halves of the corpse by the legs and tossing it into the crowd, who tore into it with ravenous hunger. "Let's try this again…" he said, walking into the crowd. The sea of vorcha backed away as he walked into them, forming an island of space where none dared come close to the larger vorcha. "Hmm, nobody?" he said out loud. "I'm getting bored…"
"There's meat!" a similarly sinister yet smaller voice from the crowd called out, as if the owner was brave enough to speak, but not brave enough to speak on his own without hiding in the crowd. "Good meat!"
"Meat? Where?"
"Yes-yes! Not vorcha meat! Good meat!" another vorcha urged, "Generator activated in big building! Must be meat inside! And shiny things!" he added.
The alpha vorcha seemed to consider this. He couldn't see any holes in logic like that. "But if meat is inside big building…" he began, realization dawning upon him. "Then why are we still out here?"
"We can't break into big building!" said a third vorcha. "We've tried!"
Another vorcha piped up to speak his mind. "Wait, why don't we blow it up?"
The alpha was about to nod his head and agree when yet another vorcha protested.
"Only an idiot would agree to that!" it shrieked. "We might blow a hole through the wall, right into space!"
The alpha nodded, turning to the vorcha who suggested the bomb. "Yes-yes, he's right, you idiot!"
"Then how do we get in?"
"Bah!" The alpha sneered dismissively, making those around him cower. He scratched his chin. If only there was some way to get past these fortifications, he thought to himself, taking out his plasma torch and leaning on the barrel like a cane. If only he had some kind of tool that was able to slice through these metal walls like a giant can opener. Wait… Did they have giant can openers? If only he had one instead of this useless plasma tor-.
Plasma torch.
"Bring the torches!" He roared victoriously. "We cut our way through with fire!"
The other vorcha cheered around him. They were lucky to have such a smart leader commanding them, they thought as they scrambled to retrieve their plasma torches and flame throwers.
Shepard had immediately walked out of the armory/ vehicle bay after talking to Jacob, briskly making his way to the stairwell. He took care not to make eye contact with anybody along the way, trying to maintain his composure as his head throbbed, trying to keep his anger in check.
Finally making it to the stairwell, he closed the door hurriedly behind him and walked to a dark corner underneath it, out of sight. Shepard took a couple of moments to breathe deeply, before letting loose a howl of rage and slamming his fist against the wall. Damn it, he thought, remembering Rogers' terrified face as the life bled from his eyes during that battle. He remembered dozens of expressions like Rogers', bloodied and scared no matter how hardened they were in life. His chest got tight and he found it hard to breathe as Shepard heard his heartbeat throb in his ears like war drums. He knew that what he did that day was beyond any form of atonement. He couldn't save enough galaxies to make up for those lives that were lost on Torfan.
Shepard was suddenly gripped by grief beyond anything he had felt before. What was wrong with him? He managed to ask himself that as he held a hand to the wall, supporting himself up. He was supposed to be past this phase. He had lived with himself, so why was it haunting him now as if it was so fresh. He should take some of his own damned advice, he thought. There was a distant sound, like metal grinding against metal echoing through the stairwell. It was strange… amazing.
He was wondering where it was coming from when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Spinning around in surprise, he found himself looking at Thane
"Peace, Shepard, it's just me." The drell said.
"Thane." Shepard greeted, trying to clear his head. "What do you need?"
"Aria has been looking for you." He began. "Your comm has been down for a while now, so she had asked me to go find you."
"Find me? Since when did you do Aria's bidding?" He asked, his brow arching up in amusement.
"She asked me politely." Thane said dismissively. "She is in her private chambers along with Tali, Garrus and Kasumi. We've been looking for you for almost half an hour now, I might not have found you if I didn't think to look in the shadows."
"Half an hour?" Shepard mused, was he lost in his thoughts for that long? "Also, my comm is working just- Hey…" he said, checking his omnitool, only to find out that his comm was indeed down. "When did I…?"
"Is something wrong?" Thane asked.
"No, nothing's wrong..." Shepard replied, wiping the sweat from his brow. The comm must have turned off by accident when he had punched the wall. He shook it off and calmed himself. It was just the stress, he told himself; he must've just blanked out in the corner for half an hour or something. "Thanks Thane, I'll go see what Aria wants." He said, making his way upstairs to her chambers.
The walk was quick, and before he knew it, Shepard had made it to the top of the stairwell. Going past the doors, he found himself in a rather lavish hallway lined with pieces of art and various guns and armor inside glass display cases. At its end was a large, circular chamber with a sculpture of an asari wearing a fine dress standing glamorously at its center.
Got to give it to Aria, he thought, she knew how to liven up a room with decor.
Behind the statue was an open set of doors, and Shepard could make out voices coming past them as he approached.
"Strip." Said Aria's firm voice, causing Shepard to raise an eyebrow in curiosity.
"What? No!" Kasumi's voice protested. "Why?!"
"I just want to make sure you don't have anything in your pockets." Aria said.
"Look at my outfit. Does it look like it even has room for pockets?"
"You're the master thief, you tell me." Aria persisted. "Besides, I want to see if that's your actual cupsize. You could be hiding things in the space."
"Hey! That's just-!" Kasumi started to say defensively, before her voice softened with realization. "That's not a bad idea, actually…"
"Strip."
"No!" Kasumi cried out, the sound of struggling in the background. "Garrus! Don't just stand there and stare; Do something!"
"Ah? Oh. Oh!" Garrus' voice said, as if snapping out from a trance. "I can vouch for her, Aria. I've been with her this whole time; she did not take anything of yours."
Aria scoffed. "Like I'd trust the word of Archangel. Now hold still, Goto!"
"Come on, Aria!" Garrus pleaded.
"Don't you dare touch me, Vakarian!" Aria sneered.
"Garrus! Get her off of me!"
"Working on it!"
"I swear to god, Aria!" Kasumi cried.
"God? Hah!" Aria laughed. "In this station, I AM GOD!"
Shepard finally caught sight of them as he rounded the statue and saw what the commotion was about. Aria was grappling with Kasumi, pushing and pressing the other woman against the wall while trying to strip her of her suit, hands grabbing everywhere. The sight could be interpreted in many ways; No wonder Garrus was just standing there and staring, wondering how he could pry them apart.
Shepard cleared his throat, causing all eyes to fall on him. "You called?" he said, addressing Aria.
Aria took a deep breath, turning back to Kasumi to scowl at her before releasing the other woman from her grip. "Shepard. I've been calling for you."
Kasumi slumped down to the floor, rubbing her back. "Yeah, thanks for taking your sweet time, Shep." She said sarcastically. Garrus knelt down next to her and offered her a hand up. She took it, rolling her eyes as he pulled her up. "And you. Thanks."
"Well, it seemed like you had everything under control, so…" Garrus shrugged.
"Go calibrate yourself, Vakarian." Kasumi said, sticking her tongue out at him.
Shepard just shook his head with an amused smile, turning to Aria. "Glad to see you're getting along with the team, Aria." He said, earning him a weary look from her as she rolled her eyes.
"I'm not here to make lasting friendships, Shepard." She replied.
"Seriously though, I can vouch for Kasumi." He said. "Thief or no thief, she knows better than what you're blaming her with. I'd rather you didn't get physical with any of my crew in the future." He said politely, the threatening undertone all but left unsaid.
"Just get me what I need and we won't be having any major disagreements. Now come, I have something for you." She says, beckoning him to follow her.
Shepard made a quick glance to check up on Garrus and Kasumi before turning to follow Aria. The pair seemed to be engaged in a rather spirited discussion bordering on a full blown argument. It reminded him strangely of Ken and Gabby, he thought, as Garrus scratched his scar and Kasumi flicked on of his mandibles. Catching up with Aria, the asari gangster led him to a large, walk in closet, which upon opening, revealed a variety of skimpy dresses and skimpier lingerie. Shepard paused for a moment as he and Aria just stared expectantly at the open closet. "Um…" He began rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought you didn't wear panties?"
Aria did not reply, and instead just gave him a sideways leer.
"Or I could never bring that up ever again." Shepard replied quickly.
"Good boy." She said with a self-satisfied smirk. A few seconds later and Aria's intent became apparent when the back of the closet shifted and moved, revealing a secret room. It was another armory, though far smaller than the one downstairs. "Come on in." Aria said as she walked into the room.
Inside, the walls were lined with guns of all shapes and sizes hanging on racks and lying on tables. What caught Shepard's eye however was not what was in the room, but who.
Tali hummed along to a tune in her head as she had her back to them, working on something on the table in front of her. Aria cleared her throat suddenly while Tali was in mid tune, almost dancing to her own beat, causing Tali to fumble with a tool in her hand. "Oh, Shepard! Aria! I didn't hear you two come in." She flustered, clearing her throat and rubbing her hands, face surely darkening into a red hue after being caught. "Ah, yes, I've almost finished upgrading the armor with durasteel alloy and ceramic plating." She added, trying to divert attention from her. "I've also updated the software into current standards and I even recalibrated the joints and pressure sensors to maximize agility. Well… Garrus did that last bit, he insisted."
Aria answered Shepard's question before he could ask it. "Yes, it's your armor." She said. "If you're going to help me, then I need you at your very best. So that means giving you the best armor in my personal collection."
"I'm honored." Shepard said, walking towards Tali to inspect the armor.
"It also happens to be the only armor in my vintage collection compatible with your human physiology." Aria added. "Funny how fate drives us."
"What do you mean?" Shepard asked. He noticed that Tali was deliberately blocking the armor from his view, as if hesitant to even show it to him. "Is something the matter?" he asked, his brow furrowing with confusion.
"Shepard… John…" Tali said, rubbing her hands nervously. "About this armor…"
"Tali, you're worrying me." He said gently, putting her hands on her shoulders. "What's wrong?"
Tali looked into his eyes and caressed his face, before sighing and stepping aside, revealing the armor to him.
What greeted him on the table was a set of heavy armor, colored matte black with golden trim. The edges of the armor ended in sharp angles, while the gold trim bled onto the matte black surfaces like swirling liquid metal, depicting strange patterns and symbols. On the center of the raised collar was a fanged skull. It was ornate, to say the least. So ornate, that he almost didn't notice that the fanged skull had four eye sockets.
It was batarian armor.
Well, that explained why they were being so nervously cryptic about it.
"It used to belong to a big-time slaver boss back in the day, before I took Omega as my own." Aria began as Shepard just stood there, looking at the armor. "Fought just like you too, Shepard; waded into battle with no regard for his safety. All that mattered was getting the job done." She chuckled at a distant memory. "He was untouchable wearing that thing… So I had to convince him into taking it off first." She said with sinister nostalgia. "For your woman's sake, as well as your own, I hope you don't go down the same way."
Shepard didn't reply as he ran a hand over the restored and upgraded armor. A slaver's armor. He wondered how much innocent blood was splattered across its pretty, black and gold surface before the previous owner was taken down. No matter how much it actually was, it was too damn much. This thing had a dark past that was blacker than it was, trying to hide behind its pristine exterior. Not unlike himself, he realized. Something welled up in his heart. Something he was deeply ashamed about.
The great Commander Shepard, Galactic paragon of truth, justice and virtue, was seething with deep, primal hate. There was that noise again, he realized, of metal grinding against metal in the distance.
It flowed well with the hate, and he was losing himself to it until-
"John?"
Next to him, Tali looked beside herself in worry, rubbing her hands nervously together as Shepard inspected the armor. He realized this and glanced at her, giving her a reassuring smile that visibly eased the tension building up in her. "Good job, Tali." He said, watching her eyes light up behind her visor. The hate in him had dissipated, and the darkness had receded for now. Everything was fine, so long as she was by his side. "Don't worry about it." He added, giving her a small wink, to which Tali nodded. Turning to Aria, he nodded his head. "Thanks." He said simply.
"Save it." Aria dismissed. "Thank me by taking my damned station back." She said. "Also, if you save the galaxy again along the way, that would be a nice bonus."
Shepard smirked. "Deal."
"Then you should get dressed." Aria said as she turned to leave him and Tali alone.
As the doors closed behind Aria, Shepard heard Tali sigh in relief. "Well, that was far more intense than it should have been." She said, causing Shepard to chuckle.
"Seems that way." He replied, earning a small chuckle from her in return.
"But you are okay, right?"
Shepard smiled. He wasn't sure about that one. "I'm fine, Tali." He said out loud. "I mean, it's just armor, right?" No, no it wasn't just armor. It was a slaver's tool of oppression.
"Well then…" she said, a hint of naughtiness creeping into her voice as she looked over the light armor he was currently wearing. "Strip."
A few minutes later and Shepard was slowly being encased in the gold and black armor that formerly belonged to some two-bit slaver. Tali's fingers worked quickly as she latched on each and every separate piece together, tightening straps and locking clasps. Each piece attached with a vacuum tight seal to the next one, and he could not deny that the weight of the thing felt good across his shoulders.
Finally, all that was left was the helmet. It was designed along the same lines as the rest of the armor, all intricate and lined with gold. The helm's mouth plate was molded into a fearsome depiction of fanged jaws, clenched tight in a rictus bite, while the eye visors shined a bright blue, even when deactivated. Shepard realized that along with the rest of the armor, the gold patterns on the large canvas of matte black depicted a cruel, skeletal silhouette. It was clearly designed to intimidate and break the wills of even the strongest individuals through fear.
Tali took the helmet in both hands and slipped it over Shepard's head, locking it in place with a pressurized hiss. For a little while Shepard was encased in darkness, until the armor's systems booted up, lighting up its HUD and synchronized with his omnitool.
"How does it feel?" Tali asked.
"It'll do." Shepard said as he checked his gauntlets, twirling his wrists to see if it fit just right. It did. Everything did. He hasn't worn a more comfortable set of armor in his life before. He hated it. He noticed Tali had kind of flinched when he replied. "What?"
"Nothing, it's alright. It's just that… The helmet seems to be distorting your voice into something… deep and quite frankly terrifying."
Shepard frowned. "This thing was made to intimidate." He said. "Would it help if I said something silly?"
"No thanks." Tali said, snickering as she got over her initial jump. "There must be a toggle for that."
"Hold on…" Shepard said as he played with the controls. "There." He said in his normal voice. "Better?"
"Much." Tali replied. "Alright, I'll run you through some of the armor's features."
"Features?"
"See the interface on the lower-left side of your HUD?" She asked, and Shepard nodded. "That monitors your adrenaline levels. The armor can prolong your adrenaline rush by constant stimulation of your stress receptors." She said. "I don't quite understand how it does, either, but try not to use it too often, you will burn yourself out too quickly if you do."
"Keep my cool, got it." Shepard replied. "Anything else?"
"This other one I'm sure you'll find helpful." Tali said with amusement. "Go to your HUD control interface and select the CQC protocol."
Shepard did so, and with the sound of polished metal gliding over metal, razor sharp serrated blades erupted from his shoulders and gauntlets, making the armor look more demonic than it already was.
"It's called blade armor." Tali said as Shepard inspected the things. "I know you're prone to getting into the thick of it, so this should help you immensely."
Shepard had to admit, this armor was trying very hard so that he wouldn't hate it completely. "This will definitely help." He said. "Does this thing have any more nasty surprises?"
"Well, I already took out the kill-switch detonator, but the bomb was too tricky to remove so try not to get bumped around too much." She said playfully.
"You're an evil woman." Shepard said, not the least bit amused by Tali's joke as his girlfriend snickered. He hoped she was joking.
"Oh hush, you like it."
"I do." He replied.
The moment was cut short when Kasumi burst through the door in panic. "We got to go." She said.
"What's wrong?" Shepard asked as he picked up his guns; attaching them to his armor, save for the assault rifle which he unfolded into active mode in his hands. Tali did the same, cocking her shotgun in hers.
"Something is trying to break in." Kasumi explained. "A lot of somethings. Now come on!" she urged, hurrying back out.
Shepard nodded to Tali and both of them carried as much guns as they could before hurrying out to follow Kasumi. They found her along with Garrus and Aria in the hallway going into Aria's bed chamber, where over a dozen plasma torches were cutting through the walls with their blue flames, filling the air with a heady ozone smell.
Aria was gritting her teeth as she looked all around her. "No." she said in annoyance as a torch flame cut through one of the trophy racks that were against the wall, incinerating its contents. "No, no, no…" She hefted her SMG and clenched her fist. "It seems like everything in this galaxy is bent on pissing me the hell off as of late." She hissed.
Shepard activated his comm and placed it into the common frequency. "All units, the safe house has been compromised! I repeat, the safe house has been compromised!" he said out loud. "Load up and prepare to move out!" He turned off the comm and raised his rifle, all five of them going back-to-back as the blue-hot plasma cut through the walls. "Any clue who we're dealing with here?" He asked as more of the torch flames appeared through the wall, too many to count.
Garrus clicked his mandibles, aiming down the sights of his assault rifle at one of the gaps that a torch had made. It wasn't wide enough yet to see out of, but he could hear what was on the other side. "Vorcha. And it sounds like there's lot of them." He said grimly. "At this rate, they'll be all over us in minutes."
Kasumi tilted her head. "Then why the hell aren't we running?"
Garrus nodded. "Fair point."
Aria stamped her foot. "Damn it!" she sneered. "No, I won't let them bring this place down…" she declared.
Shepard grabbed her by the shoulder. "Aria, there's not much we can do about it. We have to go. Now."
"You misunderstand me, Shepard." She said, brushing his hand off of her shoulder. "They won't bring this place down." She walked to the statue and moved the plaque on the base, revealing a small interface. "If anybody is bringing this place down…" She smashed her metal fist against it, causing it to spark as a holo screen appeared in front of the statue's chest, depicting a countdown. "I will."
Tali cleared her throat, bringing all eyes on her. "Can we go now?"
They all looked at each other, before bolting their way to the stairwell as the torch flames cut into the walls. As they passed floor after floor on the way to the garage bay, Shepard could see more blue flames sprouting everywhere on each floor.
Some of the gaps were getting larger now, and they could hear a cacophony of shrieks and hisses, punctuated by a single word that the vorcha chanted like a mantra.
"Meat! Meat! Meat!"
"That can't be good." Garrus quipped.
Kasumi scoffed. "Really? Because I'm still on the fence about it." She said sarcastically.
Tali sighed as they rounded a corner down another flight of stairs. "Carnivorous, blood thirsty vorcha." She said dryly. "Wonderful. I'm having the time of my life."
Aria sneered. "I know I am." They bolted out of the stairwell and into the vehicle bay, where the others had already packed up the APCs and other vehicles, all of which were ground based. "Damn it, I knew I should've gotten that gunship centuries ago…" she murmured as they ran towards the others.
"Hindsight is always 20/20." Shepard replied. He looked around and saw that there weren't any blue tongues of fire cutting into the garage bay from the outside. This level must be situated in a sector beneath the upper levels, he thought as they all jumped into the closest APC, sealing the hatch behind them. He sat beside the driver, a Shadow Broker agent and worked the interface in front of him. "Alright, rev up those engines and open the gates, we're on the clock here!"
"Sir, something's wrong!" The agent said. "The gates won't open!"
"They won't what?" Shepard stammered.
Tali stuck her head in the cabin. "Point me in the right direction, I'll get it open."
Kasumi also appeared out of nowhere. Literally. "And don't forget, if you need something opened, you also got the best thief in the galaxy right here."
The agent shook his head. "It's not a technical difficulty, ma'am. Looks like something is blocking it from the outside!"
Shepard shook his head. "Aria, when was the last time you actually opened these gates?"
Aria rubbed the bridge of her nose and groaned. "A couple of centuries ago, maybe?" she said. "That's not important."
"Can you at least deactivate that bomb you set?"
"No, and I don't have to." She replied. "Its yield is only strong enough to take out the first two levels without harming this level or breaching into space. I have a seperate set of bombs for this and the rest of the lower levels."
Garrus mused at this. "The blast could take out those vorcha while we figure out a way to open these gates." He said. "How long 'til it-?" His question was cut short by a loud bang that sent them rocking inside of the APC. "Never mind." He groaned as he picked himself up off the floor.
Outside, Shepard could see that aside from clouds of dust raining from the ceiling, their level was still intact. Shepard rubbed his head. "Is everybody still in one piece?"
Tali patted herself down. "My suit isn't compromised; I'm fine." To her left, Kasumi was helping Aria up, only for the other woman to brush her off.
"I'm fine." Aria said heatedly.
"So long as you are." Kasumi replied, rolling her eyes.
Garrus just shook his head as he subtly got between the two women. "Well, that was quite the controlled blast." He said. "Did it take them out at least?" The answer came in a cacophony of screeches and howls coming from the stairwell. "Hnng. Thought that would be too easy."
Shepard unbuckled his seatbelt. "It's never easy." He said, getting up and hefting his assault rifle. "All units, this is Commander Shepard. Right now, the safe house is being invaded by vorcha and we're trapped here until we can clear the debris on the other side of the gate. Set up the APCs in defensive positions and I want troops to take up firing positions. They'll have to funnel their way into the garage bay through the stairwell to get to us. Lock and load, people!" He said, before changing frequencies to the private one that he only shared with his squad mates. "Legion, Thane, meet me up in my position, I have a job for you two and Kasumi."
"Complying, Shepard-Commander." Legion said.
"I will be there shortly." Thane replied.
"Alright, over and out." Shepard nodded, turning to Tali. "Tali, I need you on the turret."
"Roger that, Shepard." Tali said before turning towards the ladder at the rear of the APC's interior that led to the turret.
"The rest of you, let's get outside and kick some vorcha ass."