The High Cost of Perfection | By : Nicker Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 23047 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Mass Effect and the characters are owned by Bioware. I make no money from this story. |
This is how the Legend of John Shepard goes.
When the Citadel suddenly appeared in the Sol System and moved to Earth on a geosynchronous orbit just above London, everybody thought all was lost.
When fleets from all over the galaxy started appearing, hope sprung anew. While the battle raged on in the heavens, troops landed around the world, focusing on London, gathering for a great assault to reach the beam and take it up to the Citadel, open it somehow and join it with the Crucible. It was an impossible task, quite fitting for the great Commander Shepard.
The battle was as fierce on the ground as it was out in space. Every yard gained required huge sacrifices, with little periods of calm between assaults. Jack was there with her students. Wrex and his army, Grunt leading his battalion, and asari commandos, too. Turian gunships provided air support. It was a battle of legends.
A handful reached the beam, Shepard and James Vega amongst them, and they made their way to the center of the Presidium on the twisted, dark corridors of the Citadel. All was eerily quiet, if there were any survivors left, they couldn’t tell.
They say only Shepard and Vega made it into the heart of the madness, and they somehow managed to open the Citadel’s arms. This was the signal for the fleet to call in the Crucible and protect it until it docked.
The Normandy hovered nearby, leading the fighter squads. Garrus Vakarian was the master of the fleet movements, drawing the Reaper’s attention, and Ashley Williams was commanding the escort fleet that jumped in with the Crucible. They made a great team, the three of them in the sky, and secured the area until the two constructs docked.
Everybody waited. The Citadel started to move, turn towards the Arcturus Relay like a gigantic satellite dish.
That was when Commander Shepard pulled out his copy of the Reaper Source Code, which, according to the rumour, was given to him by the ancient race of leviathans that created the Reapers eons ago.
Commander Shepard plugged in the Source Code, the final piece of the Crucible puzzle. The Crucible started to vibrate and radiate an intense, white light, stronger and stronger. Escape pods were fleeing the structure, the engineers and pilots who drove the construct to the Citadel. And then the Citadel fired, like an enormous ray gun. The beam hit the relay and a galactic chain reaction began. Every relay hit sent out the signal, shutting off everything that was Reaper-related in its vicinity. The shockwave, they say, would take many years to reach every corner of the galaxy. At some clusters, the war would rage on for a while. And each relay it hit, shut down. They simply went dark, their core stopped spinning and the mass effect fields contained within slowly dissipated.
The Citadel tower exploded, taking with it the Crucible, but leaving the rest of the Citadel mostly intact. The war was over. The costs were high during the week long battle. The geth were gone. Their ships drifted lifelessly in space, along with the Reapers. The Normandy crash landed on Mars, almost uncontrollable after EDI went offline forever, but most of the crew survived without a scratch, a testament to Joker’s last great flight.
The remnants of the greatest fleet in the galaxy still filled the space around Earth, and the Citadel, as it was, became a permanent fixture in the Sol System.
Garrus Vakarian took most of the turian fleet and started their odyssey back to Palaven, jumping from system to system with their FTL drives. The krogan and asari did the same, but all three races left behind those who could not make the journey either because their ships were not designed for that, or there was no place and supply left for them on the ships that could, or simply wanted to stay and help rebuild Earth and the Citadel, and represent their species in this new era. The Sol System became the New Citadel Space.
It was decided, since nobody had any idea how to propel the superstructure on its own, that the Citadel would be towed beyond the orbit of Jupiter, since around Earth’s orbit its mass caused constant earthquakes and tidal waves. The journey until the Citadel reached its new place would take years to complete.
The galaxy was changing. It would take years to re-establish communication with every colony, if it was possible at all. Travel was problematic. Powers were shifting, and nobody knew, how the new galaxy will look like.
Ashley Williams became the most powerful Spectre in history, an unofficial sheriff of New Citadel Space. Although she kept herself out of politics as much as possible, nobody dared to argue with her. They say, that Garrus Vakarian became her counterpart in turian space and they kept close counsel throughout the years. Some even say it was more than camaraderie.
John Shepard was gone, blown away with the Crucible. James Vega made it out alone to tell the tale, but he didn’t add much to the official story. Vega eventually completed the N7 program.
Jack and most of her students survived the battle on Earth, their losses painful but not devastating. The biotic occasionally took on a class or two on Earth, but mostly, she remained out of the spotlight.
Miranda Lawson’s name was never mentioned in the history of the Reaper War— Except in one corner of the galaxy, on Horizon, where survivors on the planet and refugees who got there before the relays went down will always remember her clear, measured voice warning them about Sanctuary. It would take years until they would find out, who this woman really was.
By that time, Horizon was shaping up to become a prosperous colony with a dominantly human population, a peaceful island after all the destruction. Eventually, after some convincing, local-born Samantha Traynor accepted her assignment as the Governor of Horizon, and travelled there, bringing with her donations to help the reconstruction.
Honorary chairman Oriana Lawson gave a touching speech, via a video message, during the inauguration of the University of Horizon named after her sister. She talked about Miranda’s sacrifice, the regret for their father’s actions and expressing hope that Horizon could become a real sanctuary for everyone. She donated all of Henry Lawson’s assets on Horizon to fund the university.
The great prothean scholar, John Shepard’s invaluable companion and advisor Liara T’Soni was never heard from again.
* * * * *
A few days after the Crucible fired, Liara was sitting in the middle of Shepard’s cabin, his belongings scattered around her, the whole room in disarray. She was hysterical, sobbing and cursing and throwing stuff around, upturning everything, although she knew for a while now, that it was pointless. He was gone and she had nothing. She was so alone, it was tearing her apart.
She sat through the battle in the Normandy’s comm room, doing her best to be useful, coordinating the asari fleet with the Alliance command, and any ships she could gather as the Shadow Broker, mostly mercenaries. She was trying very hard to make it up to Shepard for her mistakes. She still had trouble feeling shame for what she did, but as time passed and she had to watch Shepard slip away from her, first in soul, then in body, she began to understand.
She was heartbroken after the Crucible fired and it became obvious that Shepard was dead. For good, this time. When they picked up Vega’s escape pod, he said, Shepard stayed behind to make sure it was not all in vain.
Liara couldn’t stop crying for a long time, as the realization slowly sunk in, that he died probably still hating her. It was much, much worse than last time. Not only she didn’t get to say goodbye, but she also didn’t get deliverance. It was eating away at her soul, sending her into fits of crying.
Before the battle, she was still optimistic. While half the galaxy were recording farewell messages or simply talking to loved ones, she put on her best looks and recorded her own. She smiled pleasantly, honestly and started her message with “John, my love.” She wanted him to know, in case she didn’t make it, that he was always in her heart and she wished that he would find it in his heart to remember her with fondness. She filed away the message and then waited, sitting on her couch, hands in her lap, hoping that Shepard might come by.
As time passed and he didn’t show up, she decided to visit him herself, even if it looked desperate. Anything was better than sitting alone in her room on the last night before the end of the world. She didn’t make it. Neither EDI, nor the guards let her through, on the order of Shepard, who did not wish to be disturbed by anyone.
Liara returned to her quarters, sat back on the couch, into exactly the same position, in her best dress, brushing off invisible specks and straightening tiny wrinkles on her skirt and she wept.
She barely kept it together during the battle, not missing a beat, staying sharp, but it took her a great effort. She was exhausted afterwards, emotionally drained to the point of distraction. Everybody respected her grief, giving her some privacy and consolation, but that didn’t help her. She lost him once already, and there were things unsaid at that time, too, but this was much worse. She could deal with his death, but she could not deal with his resentment.
And that, finally made her understand what Miranda went through after breaking up with Shepard and what Shepard must have gone through after Miranda died. She realized now, that he had to live knowing, that Miranda didn’t forgive him. She saw it, she was there: Miranda pulled away from him, and even in her farewell message, she remained detached. It was a terrible feeling, seeing your love hate you. Hate you for someone you did to them.
She had to laugh at that, bitterly. So this was what Shepard was talking about, when he said, they have to live with that. And even if one of them would forgive the other, would they be able to forgive themselves? Except for Miranda, of course. She had no choice.
Liara let out a frustrated moan. This was maddening. She had to do something. Maybe he left her a message in his cabin, a sign, something that would tell her how to go on.
She was a bit dizzy and she had no idea how much time has passed, since she hasn’t eaten or slept ever since the battle. A lot of survivors were idling about in shock and grief, so it wasn’t unusual to see people shuffling like zombies on half-empty corridors on Mars Base. She fit right in without any effort as she snuck back onto the battered wreck of the Normandy, docked at the war-torn spaceport, hacking her way into his cabin, searching for a sign. There was none. She sat there, amongst the ruins of their lives and cried in frustration and sorrow.
She had no idea how much time has passed. She was weak, exhausted to the bone, hungry and thirsty, but she had no desire to eat. Her stomach was a tight knot, it probably wouldn’t be able to hold anything in. She was reaching a dreamy, semi-conscious state where time and gravity was fluid, and even her limbs felt funny.
The door to Shepard’s cabin slid open. Liara’s head snapped up. Her eyes widened.
It was Miranda Lawson, in the flesh, stepping through the doorway, Jack behind her, fists glowing blue, ready to blast off her biotics.
“Hello, Liara,” the apparition said.
“Miranda!” Liara shouted in surprise, her heart beating faster. She staggered to her feet with eyes locked on her. Relief flooded her, inexplicably, a tired smile on her features, as she clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “You are alive! Thank the Goddess!”
Miranda did not speak, just shot her a cold glance as she strolled in, Jack’s stance softening, looking at Liara with narrowed eyes. Liara stood in one place and watched meekly as Miranda walked about the room, touching things, like she owned the place.
“I made a bit of a mess,” Liara explained softly and lowered her gaze. “I was looking for something. A-a message. But he didn’t leave me anything.”
“How long have you been here, Liara?” Jack asked. She sounded like a doctor.
Liara looked at her dreamily, the polite smile not fading on her face, blinking out the tears from her eyes.
“Hours, maybe. I am not sure. But nothing is here. I checked.” She explained helpfully, looking towards Miranda, who picked up a few items before putting them back in place. “I am so glad you are alive.”
Miranda looked at her.
“I am not.” She said simply, continuing her exploration of Shepard’s cabin.
Liara recoiled, her eyes darting left and right as she tried to gather her wits and find an explanation.
“I am hallucinating. I haven’t been sleeping much. Haven’t slept any, to be honest.” She mused in a soft voice and stared blankly at the floor. “You must be projections of my subconscious.”
Liara looked at the ghost, her eyes watering again.
“I am so sorry for what I have done,” she whispered, swallowing. “I-I don’t suppose you c-can forgive me, right?”
Miranda shuffled through the desk, finding a picture of herself in the mess. She glanced up at Liara and that stare was answer enough. Her heart sank, her shoulders sagging. She knew that this would be the answer, but it still hurt.
Jack scoffed, folding her arms across her chest, leaning against the doorway. As much as Liara could tell, she was watching her with pity, and Miranda with something akin to sorrow.
“I let you down. All of you,” Liara whispered, looking around, finding Jack with her gaze. She faintly wondered why she was seeing her, too. Maybe because there was something growing between the two biotics, after her little machinations? She could not be sure. “I broke everything and I cannot repair it. Not even as—” she could not finish.
What did all this power brought her? What did she gain by defeating the Shadow Broker and taking its place? She took a deep, shuddering breath, hands still clasped nervously across her chest, and stared into space. She have reached a conclusion and she was ready for her sentence.
“What have I become? Everyone is gone. And I am still here.” She looked up at Miranda hopelessly, crying again.
Miranda slowly stepped closer, her face cold, her eyes stern. She felt Jack walking up to her, too and put a warm hand on her shoulder.
“My sister is dead, Liara. She may have brought Shepard back, but nobody will bring her back to life.”
“Oriana!” Liara whispered, strength leaving her suddenly. Jack had to catch her so she wouldn’t collapse. The rest of her world crumbled. She could not face Oriana Lawson. Not right now. Not for a while. She bowed her head down, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed, while Jack kept her upright, grumbling. “Take me away from here… Can you take me away, please?”
“We will, Liara. We will take over from here.” Oriana said quietly.
* * * * *
The shuttle landed in the scorching desert heat at Alice Springs Airport, claimed by the Alliance during the invasion as a support base. Wounded were transferred here, airstrikes were launched, but it quickly ran out of supplies. Although Reaper forces caused minimal damage to the town, it was still in disarray. Refugees were trying to get back to their homes, cargo shuttles were buzzing back and forth.
Oriana arranged the trip, hitching a ride on an Alliance supply run for herself, Jack and Liara. As soon as they stepped out, the shuttle drifted off towards the staging area. They walked up to a hospital van waiting for them at the entrance. Liara obediently let herself be seated in the back while Jack arranged the paperwork with the hospital staff.
“We will take good care of her,” one attendant assured them as he looked back at the asari over the shoulder. “She won’t be the first alien we are treating there. Our social care home is a pleasant and very quiet place.”
Oriana nodded, watching Liara as she sat, with a distant look in her eyes. She almost felt sorry for her. She had to admit, that she did feel empathic, just like she would for anyone who lost everything like Liara did, unable to move on, and suffered a nervous breakdown.
“We are experiencing a large influx of PTSD victims. Were it not for your generous donation, Ms. Lawson, we wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the flow, not to mention accommodate your friend—”
“She is not my friend,” Oriana replied sullenly, making Jack lift her eyebrow at her curiously. She suppressed a chuckle.
The attendant shot a glance at Liara, then back at Oriana.
“I see. Well, in any case, everything is covered, and she will have everything she would need. You should come, visit sometimes.”
Oriana kept her gaze at Liara, who stared out the window.
“I will.”
“You will?” Jack asked in an amused tone.
“Every year.” Oriana nodded.
This seemed to satisfy the social home worker. He smiled, shook their hands and sat in the back with Liara and they were off. As the van pulled away, Liara looked at Oriana and their eyes met. Oriana could afford to be generous, and return her gaze with some compassion and she saw the recognition, and a deep sorrow in the asari’s eyes. Then the van slipped into the traffic and was gone, leaving Jack and Oriana on the pavement.
“Well,” Jack sighed, stretching her arms above her head and enjoyed the shocked or curious stares of the people passing by. She grinned to herself. She still had the touch. “We’ve got a train to catch. We don’t want to miss it.”
“No, we don’t,” Oriana replied in a contemplative tone, watching the traffic. Jack put a hand on her shoulder. She looked at it, followed the tattoos on the arm until she looked into the biotic’s eyes. She smiled softly and let Jack lead her down the street.
“You know, kid, remind me not to get on your bad side.”
“Why, because I put away the Shadow Broker into the middle of nowhere and took her place?”
Jack chuckled, putting an arm around Oriana’s shoulders like a big sister.
“Jack.”
“Yes?”
“Will you help me?” She asked, and she sounded like a young girl, again. “Who says I have to do this all alone?”
“You don’t have to. I’ll be right here with you.” She nudged her with her hip.
They walked in silence for a while, thinking about consequences, gazing at the shops and buildings and the people passing by. They reached the maglev station in silence. The legendary train, crossing the continent from North to South was already at the station, the traditional red and silver livery glinting in the sun, the loudspeaker calling for boarding towards Adelaide.
“You know, kid, for a moment back there, you started to sound just like her.” Jack mused, before stepping on the train, turning towards Oriana.
“I am not a kid.”
“See? There it is again.” Jack laughed.
Oriana smiled softly.
“I know I barely knew her, but I miss her so much.”
“I know. It will get better, I promise.” She pulled her head closer and kissed her on the forehead. “Come on. The Ghan waits for no one.”
E N D
Notes:
Credits go to the original prompter of the idea and the discussion that led to this story.
The idea haunted me for days and couldn't let me sleep. It was the most uncomfortable story I have written so far. I hated it and pushed me out of my comfort zone almost every step of the way, so I was forced to write it to get it out of my head. I was miserable, but I am grateful for it. This was the best kind of challenge and I can only hope it works for others as well.
I would be happy to read your thoughts about this story.
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