After the fall of Thessia and the theft of the Catalyst, both profound defeats in their own rights, what followed were a series of ongoing, protracted losses. All of their small missteps, having been silently accumulating under cover of their dazzling wins, came out of the woodwork.
Kal'Reegar, marine of the quarian fleet and close friend of Tali's, sacrificed his life holding a forward com system position vital to the turian military. When turian troops offered to provide evac support, Reegar refused, insisting they could not risk the relay falling. While Primarch Victus himself paid respects to the quarian's bravery and sacrifice, the blow was a personal one to Tali.
The turian colony of Aephus had been raided by Cerberus forces attempting to gain control of its heavy manufacturing plants and shipyards. The Turian Hierarchy immediately mobilized the Sixth Fleet against the invaders, but not before Cerberus seized the colony's antiaircraft defences. The turian fleet sustained damage to several cruisers and carriers before finally driving Cerberus from Aephus. The colony's civilian casualties were still unknown, but unofficial estimates put the toll in the tens of thousands. This incident had been the result of the volus ambassador's warnings to the Normandy falling through the cracks and would have been entirely avoided if addressed in time.
Asari scientist Rana Thanoptis was arrested for the murder of asari military officials and later died in custody by suicide. She had claimed to hear voices in her head, hinting at her indoctrination, which spoke of the asari's ascension and that those against the Reapers should die. Thanoptis had previously worked for Spectre Saren Arterius, where she likely became indoctrinated. Shepard had spared her on Virmire during the chase after Saren, and she was later pardoned for assisting in Reaper technology research; she eventually planted a bomb that killed several at her research center.
Reaper location data provided to Illium's Gang of Five was found to have been weaponized against their competitors for profit. Aside from baiting their business rivals into zones of impending Reaper occupation and concealing their own, one or more of the Five had re-sold the data on the black market, putting the information in the hands of warlords, terrorist organizations, and other nefarious groups. Word got out that Reaper location data was being traded, leading to distrust among the galactic community.
While searching for the whereabouts of Joker's missing younger sister, Hilary, Shepard discovered an asari huntress named Aeian T'Goni was being treated for PTSD at Huerta Memorial Hospital. After overhearing a conversation between the huntress and a psychotherapist, she discovered that the asari had been sent to Tiptree, a small human colony, to help with the human evacuation. While taking refuge and a shower at a farm, her second-in-command had been converted into a Banshee and slaughtered the farmers. Aeian managed to save Hilary and flee to the hills, but extraction never came, and they were forced to venture back into the overrun farm to radio for help. In the process, Hilary's leg was broken, and Aeian was forced to kill her to stop her cries from giving away their position. The massive guilt complex resulting from the harrowing experience had the asari refusing to take showers and requesting a transfer to a facility without humans, as she was unable to look at a human face without screaming.
These events were but a taste of the mounting pressure against them. Planets burned, taken from them one at a time by the growing Reaper front. Entire populations were processed by Reaper ships, never to be seen again.
The pressure was felt by every single being aboard the Normandy, Arius observed, but most of all by Shepard herself. Part of why Shepard was so effective at what she did was no small part due to exceptional resilience; in a deadly firefight, she kept herself steady and level-headed. The other part of her effectiveness stemmed from her attempts to involve herself more in the problem in order to apply some measure of control. It was a very human thing, hardly a character flaw, but one he observed especially applicable to her. She was extremely capable, so more often than not, this mechanism served to reign in control of the situation. This was the reason that Commander Shepard stayed at the rank of Commander; although she possessed the chops to lead at greater levels, she was uniquely adept at personally involving herself in the issue and doing the dirty work herself. Why this strategy was beginning to fail was simply due to the fact that these were truly exceptional circumstances, only found once a cycle, far outside any occurrence ever encountered by a species in their history.
Shepard stood notably tall for a human woman, wielding her strength in such a way that she navigated challenges with a deceptive grace. However, the scars of the war were evident—she was now leaner than she had been upon her release from Earth's incarceration. Arius, possibly more than anyone else, recognized that she had been leaning too heavily on her Cerberus enhancements, compensating for the lack of genuine rest and nourishment. When he observed her striding through the corridors, he didn't mistake her for fragile, but he discerned a newfound hollowness in her cheeks, mirroring the fresh shadows in her eyes.
He pondered the extent of her exhaustion and questioned why it had escaped his notice. The reason was clear: she'd masterfully hidden it. At times, he believed she might not understand the lengths to which she strained. Even in her most vulnerable moments with him, she couldn't disclose what even she herself hadn't discerned. He'd witnessed her tiredness and her stress, but the descent was ever so slight, a shifting baseline ever so gradual until one day, he held her and realized the full extent of her well-being's erosion. After all, she was Commander Shepard, carrying the weight of an entire galaxy's destiny. When one individual bore the burden of forging peace agreements, curing genophages, and halting age-old conflicts, the simplicity of a nourishing meal could easily be overlooked, irrespective of his vigilant gaze or the crew's readiness to share the burden.
.
Arius waited for Shepard in the hangar after her return from Dekuuna. She had gone on an urgent search and rescue mission after the elcor ambassador had personally beseeched her in the Citadel's Presidium, begging for help. Elcor warriors and civilians had been trapped in their homeworld, unable to flee due to the arriving Reaper presence. All the other races, too preoccupied with contending with the future of their own civilizations, had turned the elcor aside. Shepard had personally flown down for extractions even while the planet burned. When radioed and asked how many civilians had escaped, she responded after a lengthy pause, "Not enough."
When Shepard stepped out of the shuttle after it settled back in the hangar, there was the smell of war on her. Shepard's armour was tarnished and smudged with soot and the remnants of destruction from Dekuuna. The familiar gleam in her eyes that once declared unyielding defiance was now dimmed by a fog of exhaustion. Arius noticed her gloved hands trembling slightly as she unstrapped her gear. He had seen her push herself past limits before, but this was different; this was not just physical fatigue but a deep-rooted emotional and mental weariness.
Without saying anything, he handed her a bottle of water, his eyes searching hers. She took it gratefully, gulping it down in a matter of seconds, which only reinforced the extent of her weariness. It was evident that she hadn't kept herself properly hydrated amidst the chaos of the mission.
"I didn't think you'd be waiting," Shepard remarked, a faint attempt at light-heartedness in her voice, though her face gave away her true feelings.
"You look like you could use a friend," he replied. "And from what I saw, this mission seemed... rough."
Shepard gave a mirthless chuckle. "That's one way to put it."
There was a pause. The silence stretched on, not uncomfortable, but filled with a shared understanding of the unspoken burden.
"Look," Arius began, choosing his words carefully, "you're pushing yourself too hard. You don't have to shoulder everything alone."
She locked her eyes onto his, her gaze piercing. He could sense the walls she'd erected around herself to cope with the escalating nightmare the galaxy had plunged into. This defensive barrier wasn't new, but the cracks in it were becoming more apparent.
"I don't need to be coddled, Arius," Shepard asserted, her voice tired but firm.
Arius continued to help her with her equipment, his tone gentle but insistent. "Someone needs to take care of you while you're caring for everyone else. You can't help anyone if you're weak… or dead."
She gave a half-smile, trying to maintain her usual bravado. "Always throwing my words back at me, aren't you?"
Under any other circumstances, her remark would have had a playful undertone, but now, her tone was severe, reflecting the weight on her shoulders.
She looked at him earnestly. "How did you do it for so long?" she asked him. "I can't imagine continually seeing this for a year, much less decades. How did you get past this?"
He met her gaze, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders. "By leaning on those around me, and letting them lean on me in return."
She jerked away from his touch, frustration evident in her voice. "And when you reached the end and found your friends all dead, and you were alone, what then? What good did that do?"
His expression tightened, but he didn't raise his voice. "I understand the pain, Shepard. But isolating yourself, pushing away those who want to help, won't—"
She cut him off, her voice rising in anger. "We don't all have the luxury to wait for a new cycle, Arius. This is our only shot, our only life. You can't possibly understand the stakes we have to..."
The spiteful words tumbled out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying, and at once, Shepard knew she had crossed the line: his eyes had narrowed slightly, and his lips had pressed together in a thin line, but he didn't object to her outburst. The weight of her words settled heavily between them.
"I... I'm sorry," Shepard whispered, exhaustion and regret evident in her eyes. "That was unfair of me."
"I know," Arius said softly, his voice carrying no trace of anger or resentment. "Your anger and your pain are not truly directed at me. And I know I can't fully comprehend the uniqueness of your journey. But know this, Shepard: I am here, now, trying to understand, trying to help. I was going to say," he continued, "I thought of those who had once cared for me, and the arms of their memory carried me. As I know yours do for you, now, too."
As he helped her unload the last of her gear, Arius took a longer look at Shepard's scars. Once mere remnants of past battles, they now seemed to be deepening, more pronounced than he remembered. Beneath them, a faint luminous glow caught his eye. He recalled the data from the Lazarus Project files Miranda had shared. These scars, the harbingers of the Cerberus tech embedded within Shepard, were sensitive to her emotional and physical states. They were designed to remain nearly invisible, but the strain of battle and the constant emotional turmoil had caused them to grow prominent again.
He sighed deeply, hating to see her deteriorating as she stretched herself thin.
"I'm aware that I may sound a tad sanctimonious at times… and that what has worked for me may not work for others. My point is that while we live in times only written about in volumes reserved for the damned, you are not alone in your struggle. Take it from someone who has stood in your shoes." He set the last of her gear on the table. "Now, I would understand if you would like some space and quiet. If you wish for company, you know where to find me. Otherwise, you will find fresh dumplings and a pot of tharil tea brewing in the mess."
She exhaled softly, her eyes searching his for a moment longer. "Thank you, Arius."
He gave a small nod of acknowledgment and took his leave.
.
Arius retreated to the starboard cargo hold, his heart heavy. Even for someone with his vast experience, the current situation felt overwhelming, leaving him grappling for answers. Unable to focus on his work, he stood by the viewing windows and watched silently.
The soft sound of footsteps echoed through the hold, and he turned to see Shepard. Although she had cleaned up and eaten, the weary shadows under her eyes remained, and her normally indomitable spirit looked close to breaking. "Arius," she began, her voice laced with pleading, "our morale is shot. We need a break. A moment to breathe. Do you have any ideas?"
He considered, calculating the variables. "How long can we afford to pause?"
She rubbed the back of her neck, thinking. "A day, maybe. Twenty-four hours, let's say."
"And where is the Normandy currently headed to?"
"The Citadel."
He nodded, the gears in his mind turning. "Alright, give me a few minutes."
Shepard looked on as he swiftly navigated the terminal, accessing an extensive collection of notes that spanned years. He pulled up a set of galactic coordinates, each annotated with personal remarks. As he set an algorithm in motion, he muttered to himself, "Closest locations for a bit of relief..." But then a thought struck him, prompted by a recent conversation with Garrus. He searched for the coordinates directly and, calculating the time it would take for them to reach the location, nodded to himself with the shadow of a self-satisfied smile. It would be tight, but they could do it.
"I have something in mind, Shepard," he said, a gleam of excitement began building in his eyes as more ideas began forming. "Let me reach out to our friends and see if they can meet us at the Citadel for pickup. They'd definitely want to join us."