Mass Effect - A Hero Rises Ch. 49

"My son is a good man, Primarch. And I know he would not have come to me unless he was absolutely convinced himself."

The Primarch nodded before turning all his attention to Garrus. "Well, before we being, as I understand we may be here a while, can I get you anything?"

"No, sir. I'm ready to begin."

"Very well, start from the top and we'll go from there."

"Do you mind if I stand as I present the evidence, sir?"

"Do whatever makes you comfortable, Garrus. The only thing you need to do is convince me. Do that, then we can talk."

So Garrus got to his feet and explained everything that had happened in the past three years, from the first day he met Shepard on the Citadel, to his recruitment on the Normandy, their chase of Saren, the missions on Feros, Therum, Noveria and Virmire before their journey to Ilos and their final confrontation on the Citadel. Then he explained how Shepard was lost and how he, too, was lost as he fought a hopeless crusade on Omega. Then he spoke of Shepard's return, their battle against the Collectors, the evidence they gathered, their journey through the Omega Four, the 'Human Reaper' they found, the discovery the Collectors were agents of the Reapers.

Finally, there was Bahak. And the final, absolute, concrete proof.

He lost track of how long he spoke for. Definitely a couple of hours. His throat dry, he finally sat down, glancing at his father who returned an approving nod of the head. He turned his attention to the Primarch, who gave nothing away, sitting in silent for what felt like hours in itself. Finally, the Primarch leant forward, folding his arms on his desk.

"A solid argument, Garrus."

"Thank you, sir."

"I have one question. When do you think they'll arrive?"

Garrus knew he had to be honest. "I don't know, sir. We delayed them by destroying Bahak. According to Shepard, that meant the Reapers would have to travel to the next available mass relay. No-one can be sure how long that may take. It's bought us at least a few months, considering they haven't arrived yet."

"Do we know their numbers? Their tactics? How we can defeat them?"

"All I know is that it took an entire Alliance fleet to defeat one Reaper. How many numbers make up their main fleet? I can't be sure. All I know is that there have been thousands of cycles. Each cycle could have seen anywhere from one to a dozen races annihilated. Each of those becomes a Reaper in itself. At least, that's what we think. No-one can know for sure."

"So there could be thousands, if not millions of these things out there, waiting to invade?"

"It's possible, sir."

"Spirits," the Primarch whispered to himself.

"We need to do something," his father stated.

The Primarch just nodded his head. "I understand, but this is a major decision that could result in a major policy shift of our entire armed forces. While we are building the fleets, that can be covered with the argument that we are simply replacing older ships. To expand rapidly would require explanation. Not just to our own people, but the Council and in particular the humans."

"The Alliance would understand, sir. They are expanding, too," Garrus explained.

"But no doubt using the same argument."

Garrus nodded, understanding the argument. "What do you propose, sir?"

"Give me 72 hours to discuss this with the other Primarch's. I will present the evidence and the same arguments. They will take some convincing but I will do my best to ensure something is done."

Again he had to hold back the sigh of relief that something may finally be done. "You have my thanks, Primarch."

"Don't thank me yet. But I'll ensure you are put in charge of whatever is to be done. Well done, Garrus."

His father lay a hand on his shoulder, his face beaming with pride.

*****

He was sitting in his father's office as the two chatted casually about previous missions they had undertaken for C-Sec. He couldn't remember the last time his relationship with his father had been so easy. He'd never admit it, but he had missed his presence in his life. Their conversation was interrupted by a call.

A call that could change everything.

When the call was over, his father looked at him expectantly. "Well?" he asked.

"They believed me. They actually believed me. But..."

"But?"

"They can't agree on the right course of action. But they have agreed on one thing, at least."

"What is that?" his father asked expectantly, if not eagerly.

"My own command."

His father got to his feet and walked around the table. Garrus got to his own as his father approached. His father held out his right hand. He reciprocated the gesture as his father lay his other hand on his shoulder. "Well done, son. Well done. When do you go?"

"I leave tonight."

*****

Thane Krios

Thane had to take a seat, feeling short of breath. Thankfully there was no accompanying pain alongside the shortness of breath. He was simply left feeling rather pathetic that it was eventually going to be a disease that would kill him. He was still proud to have served with Shepard and defeat the Collectors. Still proud of working as part of the team that had saved the galaxy from the Reapers. But part of him still thought dying while taking them out would have prevented the ignominy of the death he was now facing.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to see another drell look at him, concern etched on his face.

His son. Kolyat.

"Are you okay, Father?"

He nodded. "Give me a moment. Just need to catch my breath."

"This isn't more important than your health. We can do it another time. You really should return to the hospital."

He shook his head. "No. We must visit the temple. I would like you to meet them."

"Why is this so important?"

"Because you must remember the old ways and the old gods. If there is one more thing I do for you before I go, it is this."

"But I'm not sure..."

"I understand your hesitation. You think it is all hocus-pocus. But please understand my position. Some, no, many of us have forgotten our old ways since our evacuation from our own world. That in itself is understandable with so few of us left. Just talk with them. That is all I ask. You may surprise yourself."

"As you wish, Father."

His son held out a hand, helping him to see his feet. Still with a look of concern, the pair slowly walked through the foot traffic of the ward. Despite his illness, he thought he must still have carried a presence as a path cleared in front of him. Though perhaps that was his son. He had not taught his son all his craft. He had not taught him how to kill. He taught him the finer points of how to be a man. How to carry oneself. Speak clearly and concisely. How to treat others. The most important lesson was simply how to live a good, peaceful and productive life.

Before the door into the temple, the pair came to a stop. "Remember my name?"

"I do, Father. Is such secrecy necessary?"

He nodded. "Unfortunately it is. My name is not famous, but there are still those out there who would mean to do me or you harm. I cannot allow that. We must remain in the shadows."

"What do we do once inside?"

"You will speak with the priests. Treat them kindly and with respect. Ask questions. Learn from them. Gather knowledge from the scrolls. I only hope that you will begin to understand."

"What will you do?"

"I will meditate. Have you been practising?" His son nodded. "Good, Kolyat. Good."

"It brings me peace, Father. I find... understanding in everything that has happened. Clarity, for want of a better word."

"But do you still carry the anger within?"

"I cannot lie to you, Father. Some does remain. But..."

He raised a hand to interrupt. "If you desire, speak with the priests. They will help."

"They helped you?"

"They still do."

The pair entered the temple, the only drell house of worship on the Citadel. There was only one other planet where they would be found in the galaxy, that of Kahje, where their hanar hosts had graciously allowed them to build their own temples, considering the hanar believed the Enkindlers, otherwise known as Protheans to the rest of the galaxy, as being divine beings. If there were any buildings left on their own home-world of Rakhana, they had been long forgotten and had likely been obliterated in the global wars that took place as the planet died around them.

What appeared to be oil-burning lamps gave only very dim light as they entered the temple. Ahead was an area for meditation and contemplation. To the left, shut off from prying eyes, were the private quarters of the priests. To the right was the library, where historical documents were kept. Further on were prayer chambers for both priests and worshippers. Statues of the faith were placed around the entrance hall. Thane asked his son who they were. He was proud as his son named them all.

A robed and hooded priest approached them. "Good day."

"Good day, Your Worship. I am Tannor Nuara. We have spoken previously."

"Ah, Mr. Nuara. Yes, I remember. How can I help?"

"I would like to introduce my son, Kolyat. He is interested in learning of our faith. Become a defender of the old ways."

"Is that so?" the priest asked, looking at his son.

Kolyat look at him before turning back to the priest. "I wish to understand our old ways, Your Worship."

The priest clapped his hands. "Good. That is good. So many young now turn away from the faith."

"He has many questions, Your Worship. If I may be so bold, could you sit with him and discuss the broader aspects of the faith?"

"Of course. Of course. We can discuss the grander aspects of who we are, how we became, why we are here. The big questions. From there, he will find understanding."

"Very well. Does that sound good, Kolyat?"

His son glanced at him and nodded. "It does, Father."

"What will you be doing, Mr. Nuara?"

"I wish to meditate."

The priest gestured behind him. "Good. Please, make yourself comfortable. You will not be disturbed for the duration."

"Thank you, Your Worship."

The priest and his son disappeared through the door on the right, leaving him alone and in silence. In his current condition, he was not embarrassed by the fact he needed to grab a cushion before he removed his shoes, leaving them to the side, before he placed the cushion on the ground first before crossing his legs and sitting down upon the cushion.

He regulated his breathing and his heart rate until he felt a sense of calm envelop him. Then he closed his eyes.

The memories returned.

They were usually always the same. Memories of his life... before. Of Irikah. Of his son. Of the lives he had taken. Of the crimes he had committed.

But now there were new memories. Good memories. The Normandy. It's crew and the friends he had made. The men and women he had been in the trenches with, had fought and bled with. Of the missions they had undertaken, the lives they had saved and the enemies they had defeated.

And then there was Shepard. The Commander. He knew he smiled as the memory of his friend returned. He only hoped his friend was well. And that one day he would return. He did not know how long he had left. Realistically, he should have been dead already. Every day was now a gift of the gods. Days he would not waste by spending all close if not with his son.

But he hoped to see his friend again one last time before he died.

He felt a presence alongside him, unsure how much later it was. He looked up as he opened his eyes, noticing his son looking down at him.

"Father," Kolyat said quietly, offering his hand to help him up.

He took a deep but rasping breath first. "Your thoughts?"

Kolyat remained silent for a moment, contemplating his answer. "I would like to return."

He knew a slight smile formed. "I could set up..."

"It's already been discussed. I will start with one visit a week. But I understand your..." He paused, as if waiting for the right words. "Thank you, Father. For your guidance."

"You make an old man proud."

"Come. We should return to the hospital. You need your treatment, old man."

It was stated with a wry grin. He couldn't help but laugh before his body was wracked by coughs. Again he felt a comforting hand placed on his shoulder. Once the coughing subsided, he could only nod a silent thanks.

The two slowly walked back through the crowded ward, once again the crowds parting like a sea as father and son walked together, side by side. He knew his stride faltered compared to six months earlier, though he still carried himself with confidence. Kolyat, though, Kolyat made him proud. Something as simple as how one walked could tell you everything about a person. It spoke volumes about his son.

His son was now a man. And he was confident that, once he was dead, Kolyat would carry his legacy with pride.

The hospital was organised chaos as usual, though they did not wait long until a receptionist was available. As drell were few, and the pair were well known, they were greeted with a smile and simple instructions to go to their usual room. Inside, Thane would be fed pure oxygen to relieve the debilitating effects of Kepral's Syndrome.

"Would you like something, Father?" He shook his head. "Something to read perhaps?" He nodded his head. "I'll see if I can find something."

He closed his eyes as his son disappeared. He was unsure how long he was gone. But he knew he had fallen asleep when he felt himself slightly shaken, opening his eyes, immediately moving to the small package in his son's hand.

"Someone left a small package for you."

"Who?"

"The receptionist didn't say. Would you like to open it?"

"You can do it."

Kolyat tore at the simple wrapping, letting it fall to the floor. Contained within was a book. He noticed his son look up in surprise. "What sort of book is this?"

He looked at the cover and understood immediately. "Check inside. Perhaps there is something written."

Kolyat opened the book, flicking through the first couple of pages before coming to rest. Then he read the passage written down:

"Dear Thane,

I managed to retrieve this from Shepard's personal quarters before he handed himself in. He may not have liked the idea of me rifling through his stuff, but I thought if anyone would appreciate this, it would be yourself. I remember the conversations that took place between the two of you and knew that you would love to have this book as a memento of your time together.

Take care and lots of love,

Kasumi."

"Who's Kasumi?"

He felt the slight grin form. He remembered she was a difficult woman to get to know. Like many, she wore an armour, though hers was thicker than most. The pair had conversed from time to time, but they had not been that close. But the thought put into such a gift brightened his day.

"She was a friend. One of many, on a ship of heroes."

"Your mission?"

He nodded. "May I ask a favour?"

"Of course."

"Read to me, my son."

Kolyat looked at him. A slight smile, almost as if understanding the request. He turned the page. And he started reading.

"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth..."

*****

Mordin Solus

"I am sorry."

She squeezed his hand. "Do not be sorry, Mordin. You have given us hope this may all be over soon."

"I could have done more. You are but another casualty of this unjust measure."

"But I did this willingly. We all did. I can only hope that my sacrifice will help. So now you have to help them. They are now our only hope for a brighter future."

"Do you need anything to make you comfortable?"

"Hold my hand until I pass. I do not want to die alone. That is all I can now ask."

He continued to sit, holding her hand, watching her breathing as her eyes closed for a brief moment, knowing that pain coursed her body once again. But she remained strong and did not utter a complaint.

They did not speak again.

Thirty minutes later, her breathing finally ceased, her last moments one of bliss instead of agony thanks to the concoction of drugs being pumped through the IV attached to her wrist. He stood up and pulled the blanket up and over her body, taking one last look at her face. Eyes that had once been full of hope now lay empty. He closed them and whispered a silent prayer, wishing her good luck on her next journey before covering her head as well.

"You did all you could, Professor," he heard a voice state behind him.

Turning to see Padok Wiks in the doorway, he replied, "It is not enough to do all I could. It will only be enough when there is a cure." He sighed. "How many females are left?"

"Three."

He sighed again. "We cannot fail."

"Should I send word to Clan Urdnot?"

"I will do it."

"Are you sure you're in the right frame of mind for that, Professor?"

Mordin could only clasp his colleague by the shoulder. "I have reported far greater tragedies than this. I am responsible. I must do it alone."

Padok simply nodded his acknowledgement before turning and walking out of the room. Mordin took one last look at the body laying prone under the sheet, knowing he had already seen far too many in his short time back on Sur'Kesh. The females had been abducted from Tuchanka, something that he nor even Shepard had known about. As soon as he'd arrived and found out that there were survivors from Maelon's experiments, he had practically demanded that he alone be in charge of their care. Quietly to each of the female krogan, he explained what he wanted to do. He wanted to help them and, with hearts full of hope, they believed that their nightmare may soon be over. He was doing all he could, but for now, the nightmare continued.

With heavy heart he walked towards his personal quarters, a small room not far from the laboratories. The room he kept was sparse. He did not want to be, and there was little point in being comfortable. He was only back with STG to find a cure. His numerous conversations with the likes of Shepard, Garrus and Wrex had helped put him on the course that would eventually change his mind. It was his meeting with the female clans back on Tuchanka that had changed his mind for good. He thought what he had done had been with the best of intentions. He learned that the best of intentions can have evil lurking behind them. The krogan had paid for their crimes long enough. For far too long. Too many lives had been snuffed out before they even began. It was time to end the suffering.

It was time to give the krogan something they desperately lacked.

Hope.

But for now hope was but a dream. He and his small team experimented day and night. The female krogan trusted them implicitly. He thought that was strange, considering they were salarians, responsible for the genophage. But the females knew they were working to help them and their people. Any lingering memories of what may have happened before were instantly forgotten. They willingly put themselves forwards as test subjects once again. The only difference being that the barbarity of what Maelon had been responsible for was missing.

He closed and locked the door behind him as he entered his room. There was little to it. A camp bed. A small table next to it with a lamp. A desk opposite the bed with a chair and portable workstation. A small cupboard to his left that held some clothing. He needed little else to survive. He'd never been one for personal possessions.

He sat down at the desk and opened the workstation. It only took a few seconds to fire up before he typed in a series of commands. He was the only one to speak directly with Clan Urdnot. Anyone else conversed with intermediaries. Though there were those aware of the work he was doing at the laboratory, there was still an air of secrecy about it. Major Kirrahe took care of security, ensuring there were no leaks of the work being undertaken. He knew only those with the same ideals were sent to this lab in particular. He wondered if Councillor Valern was aware of what his invite back to STG had precipitated. He dreaded to think what would happen if any Dalatrass found out. Every single one was vehemently opposed to any cure. He knew many would rather the krogan just die out completely.