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Requested by : Laurel
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For the first time in nearly five hundred years… Drac was scared.
He was sitting under the wide, low-resting ceiling of a Turian light-frigate's cargo bay, with his back to one of four reinforced service-glass tubes that filled the center of the bay. Each had a long pod resting in it which protruded down and out of the ship through a sealant barrier. Looking up, he could see four more pods suspended by Mass Effect fields on the floor above, where technicians were making final adjustments for a quick launch. Thirty two Krogan, split in pairs, would come from their light-frigate alone…
Impressive.
It wasn't a safe construction, of course - they'd literally fallen to relying on emergency sealant systems to keep teh bay pressurised - but it was impressive nonetheless.
And told him he'd been right about how desperate the Turians were to regain some ground.
But none of that was why he was scared…
"Ears on!" A flanging, distinctly Turian voice called from the lift at the back of the room.
He and the other thirty-one Krogan turned to face him, standing on a crate with a pair of guards right behind him, setting up a square frame with a rolling container at the top. The man was scarred, missing most of a mandible and an eye, and met each of their gazes as silence fell on the room. What he was looking for, Drac couldn't begin to hazard a guess any more than he could guess at whether he found it.
The Turian commander was… An enigma, and one that didn't seem to mind their presence at all, oddly enough.
Nodding, he began to speak as the room darkened and a screen descended from the rolling container behind him, displaying a ruddy green world he gestured to with a hand, "We are closing on Proxym, an outlying world between Citadel Space and Hierarchy Space. Formerly a refuelling site, Proxym has fallen mostly under Reaper occupation in the last month. It is a vital strategic point between the two sectors of space, and the first leg of our operation will begin there."
"You will spear-head a landing point here." He gestured at one of the poles, "Where the storms that frequent the equator this time of year are clearest. The Athasbascan Night will deploy its thirty two Orbital Drop Shock Krogan to the Northern pole. Each has a sizeable spaceport with anti-landing defenses you will disable within one week, allowing a proper strike force to deploy and retake the planet as a whole. Once you do-"
The entire ship shook like something had slammed into it and the Commander nearly fell before one of his guards grabbed him by the hips and steadied him. Alarms blared around them, and crates of supplies packed along the walls toppled, spilling rations and ammunition across the floor.
"Reaper attack!" The commander barked over the alarms, "Grab what you can- Drop, drop, drop!"
Drac was one of the first to reach his pod, which he'd already stocked with his Mattock and a week's worth of rations. Climbing in, he punched the rotation switch to let his partner climb in while he strapped himself down. The hatch sealed before he was even finished, and he felt a lurch as he was propelled forward and out, into space. Sucking in a breath, he looked up as a Reaper fighter shot by, raking the underside of the Auburn Dawn, trailing fire as it went until a GARDIAN swatted it out of the sky.
Missiles swarmed down with them, scattering around their pods and arcing up along the stomach of a Reaper Destroyer, impacting across its shields as its own defensive systems fight to protect it. And caught a few of the closer pods in the second wave, which had spread out behind the first group to avoid any collisions. They lost three before they had passed out from under it and continued on, far to the side of a second Destroyer.
"Secure the Spaceport!" The Commander's voice crackled over their broad-band channel, "Whatever comes, you need to- Agh!"
His voice died in a wash of static and Drac leaned forward, straining to look behind their pod. Just in time to see their frigates go up in a display of vibrant blues and reds that backlit the Destroyers as they turned, pursuing the picket ships that had been defending them. None of them lasted long, or did any damage to the Reaper warships, but he saw more than one strike craft go up in splashes of red.
"Whelp…"
"What?" He grunted, turning and blinking off to his side, towards the other occupant. "Me?"
"Yes, you." The other Krogan grunted, "Calm yourself."
"I'm not-"
"Yes, you are." The other warrior rumbled lowly, "I can feel how scared you are. This can't be your first fight…"
"It isn't." He growled, closing his eyes and leaning back against his seat. "I'm not- I'm not scared of the fight."
"Then what?" Silent, he opened a compartment of his armor and drew out a worn piece of notebook paper. He handed it over and the Krogan took it after a moment, more gently than he'd expected. After a few long moments, he asked, "You… Have a child?"
"I have two." He answered, taking the picture back when it was offered and smiling at it. It was a rough drawing, on yellowing paper, of himself holding a little blue smudge that had been a child's effort at an Asari baby. "An Asari, maybe two centuries old. Her mother abandoned her and, well… I also have a newborn. A Krogan named Anista. I don't even have a picture of her…"
"I see." The other warrior rumbled, "I'm sorry."
"For…?"
"Calling you a coward." He answered, "When you are the furthest thing from it. I'm proud to call you my partner."
He grunted an acknowledgment and returned the picture to the most armored part of his suit. Outside, the blackness of space reached on, empty apart from a speckling of stars. Stars that once had filled him with anger and forlorn thoughts. Thoughts he'd pushed away with his daughter, with raising her as best a Krogan could raise an Asari.
He was terrified… But not of dying.
He was scared of losing the future he finally had in front of him, for both his daughters.
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"Just forty more steps." Thane rasped, a hand on his shoulder while he stood beside John's treadmill, watching him limp along as part of his conditioning therapy. "Come on… I know you can do this, and so does everyone else."
"Yeah!" One of his bodyguards grunted, "Screw forty- Go for fifty!"
"Do you want him to hurt himself?" His other guard asked, watching the people gathered in the waiting area, watching them while they waited to visit others in Huerta. Or, he knew, came to ask yet another hospital if their brother or son or mother or sister had been brought here.
One, a child with a bandage over an eye and a cast on his leg, met his gaze and John smiled and gave him a nod. The little kid beamed, tugging at his father's leg to try and get his attention, but the man ignored him. So John kept an eye on him, leaning on the railing to either side of the walking pad and gritting his teeth to push through the fire in his leg. Doctor Michel stood on the other side of the console, watching his read-outs on a little tablet while he worked and counting quietly. But he kept an eye on the kid until, finally, Thane grabbed his arm and caught him when he hit his hundred and first stride and nearly fell.
While the Drell helped him onto his wheelchair, he shot the kid a look and raised a thumb with his bad arm, which was still mostly held up in a cast, though the hand was at least free now.
The kid looked like he was going to cry, cheer and fall over all at once.
"You've come far already, and it's only been ten days. It's impressive, really." Doctor Michel complimented him while Thane quietly walked him through a breath control exercise they'd been using for days to help him bounce back from exercises. Quietly, almost distantly, she went on, "It's… Almost strange. You shouldn't be quite this healed already. Not for several days yet."
"No?"
"No. You're healing faster than normal." She sighed, "Not enough to be in-human, but…"
"Maybe bathing with Kalros put a little Krogan in him." One of his guards rumbled, laughing quietly while the other shook his head and both kept their sharp eyes on the crowd. "Test for Krogan blood, doctor?"
"I'll get right on that…"
"I've always bounced back fast." He shrugged when she turned back to him. Relaxing into his chair, he added, "It helps, so… Who cares?"
"If it's a reaction to the therapy, it could develop into cancerous growths, Doe…"
"Hmm, risky." He grunted, "I wonder if the Reapers are more or less risky."
"Right, thinly veiled, over macho point taken." She sighed, turning to Thane and shaking her head. "Take him through meditations? I… Have other matters that need tending to."
"More incoming…?"
"We just lost Bekham." She answered quietly, "Few got out. All wealthy. I hate it, but…"
"Their credits can go far for resupplying." John nodded, more than used to such ruthless calculus - everyone knew that senators and business magnates evacuated first. Often it was just corruption, but just as often, in his experience, it had good reason. And this certainly seemed to be the latter. Still, he smiled and said, "Rush through the ones that just need a sugar pill and a cast, and maybe get me some real food?"
"Ha." Michel rolled her eyes, "Ha."
"Come." Thane rumbled, pacing ahead of him and letting John use the little joystick his now-free hand could manipulate properly.
Their meditation area was actually just a corner of the entrance set up with simple black privacy curtains on every side but the window, and chairs on the outside of those. Inside were mats, a charging station for chairs like John's, and a water cooler. But beyond that, it was rough and ramshackle in a very 'we threw this together with two nurses and a hundred credits' sort of way that reminded him, distantly, of the UNSC. And so many of the camps, rest areas and even guns he'd seen in his time of service. Something he'd been guilty of himself, now and again, like when he'd stripped off the carry handle and scope from a standard Battle Rifle for a more close quarters version that kept the same burst fire he loved the original for.
Much more useful for clearing an apartment block the size of a city block.
All they'd needed was cool, somewhat quiet, and dim, and they'd been able to scrap that together. While he plugged his chair in to charge, Thane set up a nice, gently scented candle and got comfortable on the mat.
"Now." Thane sighed, sitting in the middle of the room facing him and smiling comfortably as they both listened to the quiet, contained chaos of the welcome area. "What shall we discuss today for meditation?"
At first, he'd been… Hesitant in these little sessions, but the Alliance had required therapy, and meditation counted, so he'd defaulted to it as a better option than a real, proper shrink. It'd been awkward, and he'd been resistant.
Now, though, he just hummed and said, "Home."
"Home…?" Thane hummed, closing his eyes and relaxing while John turned to gaze out at the water - his own version of meditating, since closing his eyes only made him anxious. "A broad concept. What, specifically, makes you reach for it?"
"I've been thinking about the Normandy." He answered simply, "It's conducting special operations in lost-space, and…"
"You are anxious?"
"Yeah." He nodded, "I am."
"Why?"
"They have to operate in stealth, or they'll be destroyed." He answered simply. What that meant for him was days and days between updates on their status, and nearly a week since he'd gotten a message from Javik or Shepard. Sighing, he went on, "They could be gone right now, dying right now, and… I have no way of knowing."
"Indeed they could be." Thane hummed, "But this makes you think of home? Not death or war or the Reapers- Nothing more direct. Instead just… Home."
"My home is Shepard and Javik, now." His only other home was, for all he could see, either so distant as to be irrelevant or nonexistent now. And his species in it was likely extinct, too, given how the war had been going when he'd… Left. "I've already lost one. The thought of losing a second…"
"Is terrifying." Thane nodded, "I understand. I often think the same of my son, Kolyat,"
"Because of your illness…?"
"Indeed." Thane nodded, voice quiet and cool even as emotion creeped into it. "For years, I yearned for a connection to him… To my family, to home. Now I have it. And I have it in a galaxy torn apart by war, on the enemy's greatest target, and at the end of my life so that I can do nothing to help or change any of it. My home is my son, and… I am going to lose him."
"Are you afraid…?"
"I was, yes." Thane sighed, "But… Over time, I have come to accept that I have done what I can, and must accept things as they are."
"And that helps?"
"Acceptance brings inner peace, and inner peace makes all things easier to accept." Thane smiled, chuckling under his breath and adding, "In that way, it's almost self-perpetuating."
"I'm not dying, though…"
"No," Thane admitted, opening his eyes only long enough to find his water bottle, take a sip, and return it to its place, "you will do much once you heal, I am certain. But what I have learned is not to give up once you're dying. It is to accept what you are able to do, to put into the world, and understanding that you cannot do more."
"I suppose you're not wrong, there…" It was an old lesson, and one he shouldn't have been retreading. He'd learned fighting the Covenant that one man could only do so much. So why did it bother him so much now? They were quiet while he thought about it, until, finally, he murmured, "Maybe it's guilt…?"
"Guilt?" Thane hummed, "Explore that."
"I'm safe here, on the Citadel, while everyone I know is out there." He explained, gesturing at the window, at the space beyond its view, with a hand. "I'm as safe as can be. But I shouldn't be. I should be out there, fighting."
"Perhaps," Thane murmured, "you earned a break when you nearly gave your life to save a species?"
"Maybe…" He nodded, "It's just hard to… Internalise that, I guess."
"Perhaps." He nodded, "Shall we sit in contemplation while you do?"
"I… Think that would be useful, yes." He nodded, "Thank you, Thane. You're insightful as always."
"I try."
They spent the rest of their hour in quiet, thinking about what they'd discussed. This was the norm for them, by now, and while John was still antsy by the end of it, it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been. In fact, he came out of it rather… Relaxed. Not entirely, of course - that had long since escaped being something he could easily manage - but enough that watching air-cars drift by kept him occupied and he didn't feel the need to check his inbox again. But, eventually, their time ended and he and Thane left, making space for a few Asari to take it over for their own kind of meditation.
As John rolled along behind Thane, watching his breathing become more and more labored just in the time it took to get to the back rooms, he wondered just how well the Drell had done with his own lesson of acceptance…
"Good day, John." Thane turned when they reached his room, a bead of sweat on his brow and the faintest labor to his breathing. "I am… Going to rest."
"Right." He nodded, "Rest well."
Thane nodded and left and John rolled into his room and around his best, to a little console against the window Doctor Michel had set up and connected to the ExtraNet for him. His mail was still empty, so he instead booted up a movie-app Thane had shown him and settled in to continue a documentary on dinosaurs. It was an old fascination, one he hadn't indulged since childhood, but…
It passed the time.
A chirp from his door drew his attention and he rolled back to turn his chair, raising an eyebrow as a familiar, thin figure stepped in.
"H-Hello!" The Specialist, Beau, smiled and waved nervously as she came in, carrying a little folder under one arm and a tablet in her other hand. "I-I was… Wondering if you could help me with something?"
"Help you?" He grunted, turning and rolling over to meet her by his bed.
"I'm drafting designs for new insertion pod variants." She nodded, handing him the tablet while she sat on his bed and started leafing through the several dozen pages in her folder. "Fail-points are started to be noted and… W-Well, I've been assigned to sort them out…"
"And you want my input."
"You're the only one that knows more than I do about them…" She nodded, "A-And, uh, it's kind of important, you know?"
"Technically," he smiled, tapping the tablet where a long list of fail-points and suggested improvements were laid out, "I'm not cleared to see this anymore…"
She made a vague cross sign, sighed, and said, "I christen thee worthy. So…?"
"Let's get started." He sighed, "What else do I have to do?"
"R-Right, uh, so, first is the rotation system…"
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Golden Nova :
Spartan gene therapies, at least the ones that were tested, were not tested on a broad populace. They were tested and prototyped in the Orion project, colloquially known as Spartan Ones. What WAS NOT tested on them was, in fact, tested on the IIs. the IIIs had the successes of both used for semi-mass production, and the IVs have seen that development reach mass production.
However, John comes from before the IVs. ODSTs didn't receive much more than immuno-therapy, and not a lot of that. 343 has the UNSC slowly broadening their gene tailoring, but that would still be post-war.
7th Maniac :
This short arc is all about those sorts of themes, and also, to an extent, broadening John's character and investment into people he doesn't have a magical genetic marker forcing him to care about.
We all can guess WHY I want everyone invested in Thane, but… I still hope it hits well.