Turned to Ash
The scents of their lovemaking lingered on his scales, and her moans of pleasure echoed in his ears, drowning out the ever-present hum of the drive core as well as the sound of his own breathing. He'd fallen in love again, and so swiftly, but how? Every time he thought he'd managed to gain a grasp on his situation, it slipped through his fingers, leaving him breathless and disoriented.
Shepard must be the strongest person he'd ever met, yet also the most fragile. The terror in her eyes, the doubt in her voice when she questioned her existence haunted his waking moments as well as his dreams. She'd completely captured his mind and his heart. All that he was, irrevocably and unequivocally, belonged to her, now. He felt so utterly lost to the rest of the world when he was inside of Shepard. In those moments, she became all that mattered, all that possibly could matter.
And, Kolyat came back into his life because of Shepard. A storm of indignation and desperation with blue eyes. Their relationship might not be ideal—certainly not what most imagined for a father and son—but they had a relationship. Each time they spoke, however, Thane dreaded saying or doing the wrong thing. Feared Kolyat would shut him out forever. It seemed irrational for the thought to wound him so deeply when just months ago, he remained convinced never seeing his son again was for the best.
Kolyat required so much of Thane, far more than he seemed to realize. True, he'd only given Thane a single condition for their relationship, but it carried more weight than almost anything else he might've thought to ask. It wasn't an unreasonable request or at all unfair, but it terrified Thane.
He'd allowed Mordin to place him on the transplant lists, and for the first time in many years, he dared hope for a future. He fought for a future; with Kolyat and Shepard. Whatever future lay before him, however, would likely be far bleaker than what Kolyat or Shepard were truly prepared to face. Pain, suffering, weakness. Surgeries and treatments. It filled Thane with dread, but he'd do his best to endure. He'd still wither away, dying slowly. Yet he would tolerate it for as long as he still managed to draw breath, so that he might last as long as possible.
For them. Anything for them.
He'd learned what it meant to use his skills to save lives. He'd wanted to leave the galaxy a brighter place, and now that he was doing so, he feared he might soon be unable to make use of those skills—for any purpose at all. He felt proud of his work with Shepard, his siha, and it was a pride which brought no shame, no guilt for having surfaced. He didn't want to lose his ability to fight at her side.
Ah, but there he sat, hours away from infiltrating The Shadow Broker's base.
Although killing the Shadow Broker might save lives, saving lives wasn't his motivation. He couldn't pretend otherwise. He'd vowed to find all of those responsible for Irikah's death and end their lives. It'd taken ten years before the opportunity to truly honor that vow presented itself, but he no longer felt certain it was a vow which should be honored.
He wasn't the same person anymore. No longer the man responsible for The One-Hour Massacre on Omega. A different man left Stiv-Kay to die on the floor of the Citadel in an ocean of his own blood.
Thane thought he'd set that darkness aside. When Shepard told him she intended to go after The Shadow Broker, though, he realized it still lurked within. Poisoning his soul. Darkness lived inside of Kolyat, too; a black-flamed fire Thane helped to ignite. Would The Shadow Broker's death, by Thane's own hand, feed Kolyat's darkness or extinguish the flames? Kolyat thought it would help him heal, give him closure. If he knew it to be the truth, then without question, Thane would embrace his own darkness once again. He didn't know if it was the truth, however.
"Go or don't go." Kolyat looks at me. Face calm. Open and relaxed. He is at peace. "I will be glad to know the Shadow Broker is dead either way, and I will think no more or less of you regardless of what you decide." His words stop, but his lips remain parted as if in hesitation. His head tilts, and he blinks. "Neither should you, Father," he says, his voice softer than a moment before.
No, Thane wasn't certain whether it was the right decision, but it was the decision he'd made. He'd committed himself to the course of action, and he intended to see it through.
Measured breaths lifted his shoulders and expanded his chest as he worked to clear his mind of the stubborn, intrusive thoughts. It wasn't the time to contemplate those things. He needed to let go of everything; release his grasp on his sense of self and allow his soul to settle into the place of peaceful nothingness he found only through meditation. Then, he must say his prayers. The Shadow Broker was a dangerous target, one who undoubtedly surrounded himself with more guards than those who came to Vasir's aid.
Thane needed to be at his best.
Finding Liara's friend, Feron—strapped into a chair, back arching and agonized screams tearing through his throat while being electrocuted—tore at Thane's battle sleep. The thoughts and emotions ripping their way through his defenses weren't what he expected, however. Thane should feel anger at seeing the drell treated so horribly. It'd be a righteous rage, one easily understood. Or, at the very least, Feron ought to provoke a sense of gratitude.
The man had sacrificed himself so Liara might escape with Shepard's body, and his betrayal of The Shadow Broker cost him years of torture. If not for Feron, Shepard may have never made it to Cerberus' Lazarus Project to be resurrected. He gave himself so that a siha might live again. Ignoble as his intentions may have been initially, in the end, Feron acted with the greatest honor.
Yet, something else entirely threatened to unravel Thane just then. He didn't know precisely how old Feron was—and Thane didn't intend to ask—but he appeared young. Not so young, however, to make it impossible for him to have worked for The Shadow Broker when Irikah was murdered.
Did the drell before him play a role in the crimes committed against his wife?
No, Thane mustn't allow the darkness within to go looking for new enemies. The Shadow Broker was the last to bear blame. He must be. Thane needed it to stay that way, and so did Kolyat.
Turning his attention back to Shepard, Thane waited to see what she wanted to do. Fury flashed in his siha's eyes as she tried to find a way to free the drell from the console, but her attempts only led to Feron being electrocuted once more. The fear in Liara's voice fueled Shepard's rage. They had no choice but to leave Feron and fight on, searching for another way to free him.
The … man sitting behind the desk was, most certainly, not what Thane expected. Liara called him a yahg and spoke of how the species were quarantined to their homeworld after slaughtering the Council's delegation. Thane recalled brief mention of the yahgs in his history lessons as a child, but seeing one in person was something else entirely. They were … massive, easily overshadowing any krogan Thane ever encountered.
He didn't have training against yahgs. He didn't know their strengths or vulnerabilities, didn't know the best way to kill one.
But he did know that all things died.
An explosion of sound and force slammed into Thane, violently ripping him from unconsciousness and dislodging a heavy weight from his body. Fear and pain left him disoriented, staggered, as his mind scrambled to recall what happened. Smoke and burning pieces of ash filled the room, floating through the air and making it difficult to breathe. Electricity arched above, dancing across pieces of shattered glass, the broken tank no longer holding the superconducting fluid it did when they arrived.
A figure appeared through the smoke. Liara. It was Liara. The Shadow Broker, where was The Shadow Broker? Oh, Arashu, where was … where was Shepard. Relief flooded him when his gaze found her, alive and whole, as Liara helped her to her feet. He pushed himself upright and shook his head. When he glanced up again, Shepard approached. Her eyes filled with worry as she looked him over.
He didn't know what became of The Shadow Broker, but it appeared the battle had ended, fought and won without him. All while he lay unconscious on the floor. He'd failed, proven himself of no use to Shepard. She'd have been better off bringing Garrus or one of the others. Grunt, perhaps. Amonkira be praised, she was still successful in her hunt. If he'd lost her, if she'd died because of him ….
"Siha …" He scanned her for injuries, but he found no obvious wounds, her armor remained intact. "What happened? Where is he?" He thought a part of him might break if she said The Shadow Broker escaped.
She held her hand out, catching a piece of smoldering debris on her palm as it drifted toward the ground. Turning her gaze to him, she extended her hand as if in offering. "All over the room," she said, lips lifting in a smirk. Upending her hand, she wiggled her fingers, shaking loose the burning remnants of bloody cloth.
"He's gone?" He began coughing and brought a fist to his mouth. The explosion which woke him, it must've been The Shadow Broker. How? Ah, the fluid from the tank …. "He's dead?"
It hardly seemed possible. A ten year wait, and The Shadow Broker turned to ash in mere seconds. He didn't know whether to rejoice or rage against the injustice.
"He's dead," she said, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and guiding him toward the door. "Come on, let's get some fresh air."
"Kolyat," Thane said when his son answered the call, then he covered his mouth as another coughing fit wracked his body. His chest ached, but it was his raw, burning throat which kept him hacking.
"Father?" Panic filled Kolyat's voice when it took Thane a moment to catch his breath. "Father?!"
"I'm alright." Thane held up his hand and focused on his breathing, fighting off the spasms of his diaphragm and calmed his racing heart. The last thing he wanted was to scare his son. "There was—I inhaled some smoke and ash, but I'll be fine. I'll see the doctors for a treatment in a moment." He turned his full attention back to the screen, searching Kolyat's face. He needed to see, needed to be sure Kolyat's reaction to the news was one of peace and not malice. "I just … I wanted to tell you that The Shadow Broker is no more. He has gone to the sea, and Shepard's ally now stands in his place. It's done, my son, and I pray it helps to bring you peace."
Tears instantly filled Kolyat's eyes, and he lowered his head as he began to sob. "Thank you, Father."
The sound broke Thane's heart, the moment certainly bringing him no peace.
Thane kept the nebulizer pressed to his face, taking deep, steady breaths as he listened to Shepard recount what happened aboard The Shadow Broker's ship after he was knocked unconscious. He couldn't help but wonder, if not for feeling weakened from his treatments, if not for his disease, might he have avoided the chunk of shattered desk the yahg threw. He'd told Shepard his Keperal's Syndrome wouldn't interfere with her mission, but, not for the first time since he began treatments, he no longer felt so certain.
"I'm sorry things didn't go as planned," Shepard said, voice low enough to stay just between the two of them, as she stroked the side of his head with one hand, wrapping her fingers around his with the other.
He shook his head, unable to really communicate with the nebulizer mask in place, and squeezed her hand reassuringly. Yes, he'd wanted to take part in the battle, for many reasons, but it was his failings and not hers which left him excluded. She needn't apologize. He didn't want her to apologize.
Despite Thane's failure, The Shadow Broker died, and Shepard lived. Nothing else mattered.
She sighed and leaned in to kiss his temple before whispering, "Does it still help?" Dread filled her voice, and she sounded as if she were on the verge of crying.
Shifting his head, he pulled away enough to meet her gaze. Freeing his hand from her grip, he rested his palm against her cheek and brushed his thumb over her jaw. The depth of her love and the kindness of her heart amazed him at times.
He wanted to tell her that he felt at peace knowing The Shadow Broker breathed no more. Kolyat did, too. Yes, it still helped. Far more than he thought he had the words to express, even if he could speak his heart to her just then. Neither of them would ever stop feeling the pain of what happened to Irikah, but with The Shadow Broker gone to the sea, perhaps they could finally allow Irikah to rest on the distant shores.