Chapter Text
Zanethu, Ploitari System in the Hourglass Nebula, 2183 CE
Zanethu is a post-garden world made uninhabitable by a mass extinction event which occurred at some point in the planet’s past, but the cause of which remains unknown. For all Shepard cares, it’s just a fancy way of saying that Zanethu is hell frozen over and nobody knows jack about how it ended up this way. Being down here is no walk in the park. The atmosphere is not toxic per se, but the levels of oxygen in the air are just a little too low, the levels of carbon monoxide just a little too high for it to support regular oxygen-breathing or plant-based life forms. Far worse, though, is the fact that the planet is ravaged by snow and dust storms which hardly ever let up. They had to orbit the planet for hours before a window of opportunity opened up which allowed them to conduct a planetary excavation operation.
“Admit it, Kaidan, you wanted the Commander all for yourself,” Joker taunts over the comm.
“If I did, the Citadel would be the more fun place to do that,” Kaidan replies.
Joker chuckles. “Ah, come on. On the Citadel you have the added problem that someone or other always insists on tagging along. The crew goes all chaperone mode on you and the Commander.”
Shepard rolls his eyes at their quips but continues to slowly guide a huge chunk of metal through the air and into a cargo box with the help of his biotic powers. The metal alights with a resounding clank. Shepard sighs. His concentration is starting to run thin. He rolls his shoulders and bends his neck in an attempt to relax his back. He really doesn’t understand why they are on this planet when they should be out in space, rallying support and preparing the galaxy to defend itself against a Reaper attack. But the Council members are still not convinced that the Reaper threat is real, so they are doing nothing about it. Instead, they sent the Normandy on a mission to destroy any Geth that retreated to the Terminus System after the Battle of the Citadel. Shepard is frustrated to do what feels like running errands for the Council when they should be focused on tackling the real threat.
While scanning for Geth in the remote Ploitari System, they discovered hitherto unknown Prothean ruins on Zanethu. The Ploitari System is off the regular travel routes through the Terminus System and the results from their probes indicate that the settlement is not particularly big. And yet, Shepard cannot help but wonder why the colony wasn’t discovered during earlier planetary scans. Liara begged Shepard to be allowed to study the planet for at least a few days. She insisted there might be a chance that they make another discovery like the ones on Eden Prime and Ilos, now that they have an idea what they are looking for. The Terminus System did not belong to the heartland of the Prothean Empire, and settlements here are likely to have been remote outposts, the last strongholds to fall during the Protheans’ war with the Reapers. They might find some clue that can help them figure out more about the Reapers and the final years of the Prothean Empire.
Shepard gladly agreed. Anything that points them in the direction of the Reapers is better than hunting down Geth. Liara’s scans came up with some interesting readings, so they went down to the planet for on-site excavations. Liara has returned to the Normandy since, taking along with her the first set of objects that she wants to take a closer look at. Shepard wanted Kaidan to accompany her back to the Normandy, but Kaidan insisted that it was safer down here if two people had each other’s backs. Joker, who is bored out of his mind by their research mission, keeps them company over the comm.
“Joker, you have no idea,” Kaidan scoffs.
“Yah, maybe I don’t,” Joker replies sarcastically. “But I’ve seen you guys return to the Normandy after your outings into the Citadel wards. What else is there to know really? I still remember that one time when…”
Shepard runs out of patience and intervenes. “Cut it out. Now. Both of you,” he orders.
“Aye, aye, Commander!” the two say in unison. The comm goes silent after that. Shepard is glad. That way, he can store away the last item – a small, black globe – into the box without causing any more damage.
He tends to be very indulgent with his crew. Sometimes a little too much, he fears. When they make jokes at his expense, they do it in good fun, and Shepard usually laughs with them. It doesn’t undermine his position. They still respect him as their commanding officer and Shepard would rather have an amicable relationship with those who serve under him than one that is characterised by awe and aloofness. But sometimes it just gets too much and the innuendo goes too far. They are still Alliance soldiers. He doesn’t like it when they imply that he acts in violation of the fraternisation regulations. He would never misuse his authority and compromise his people.
Shepard activates the lock on the box. He takes a step back and looks around. Towering grey and black structures stretch out in all directions, the weather-beaten remainders of a Prothean settlement. It speaks volumes of the architectural ingenuity of the Protheans that some of the buildings have withstood the hostile environment. According to what Liara told him, this planet was once teeming with life, covered by verdant forests in its median latitudes and inhabited by a diverse fauna. It’s hard to imagine now. Whatever it was that happened here, it irrevocably ended life on Zanethu. A shudder runs down Shepard’s spine as he tries to imagine what it must have been like.
“Commander…”
Shepard snaps out of his ruminations. “Ready for pick-up,” he announces on the comm.
“Yeah, about that,” Joker says. “We have a tiiiny problem.”
“Better tell me right away, Joker.” Nothing ever seems to go as planned.
“There’s some data we couldn’t properly interpret earlier. An atmospheric anomaly. We thought it was just a regular snow storm...”
“But?”
“Turns out it isn’t. This thing is electromagnetically charged. It’s been brewing while you were down there collecting nice little souvenirs. It’s headed in your direction and it’s nasty. The shuttle can’t go down to pick you up, it’s too dangerous. You have to find a way to get to safety and wait for the storm to pass.”
“How long till it does?” Shepard asks.
“Couple of hours, hopefully. A day tops.”
“Wait a sec, doesn’t a day here equal 56 earth hours?”
“Yup.”
Shepard sighs. “Ok, got it.” Nothing ever goes as planned, that’s a fact.
“Ahm, Commander?”
“Yah?”
“It’s kind of urgent. You better hurry.”
“Got it,” Shepard confirms. “Anything else we need to know? Anywhere nearby where we could get protection from the storm?”
“Shepard.” This time it is Liara who speaks over the comm. She tries to hide it, but Shepard can hear the worry in her voice. “Your best chance is to go underground. Prothean cities usually extend deep into the ground. Try to find a way below the surface and get to safety there. Take care.”
***
Citadel, 2185 CE
Shepard stares at the datapad in his hand. There is no room for misunderstanding the message displayed on it, not really. It consists of only four sentences. But something urges him to read through it one more time, just to be sure.
Alright, let’s meet. It seems really important to you. You’re lucky I happen to be on the Citadel. Next week Tuesday, 8pm, Presidium Commons, in front of the Relay Monument.
Kaidan
Shepard sighs, lowers the pad and kneads the bridge of his nose close to his eyes. It is true that he contacted Kaidan and asked to meet him. If Kaidan picked up on the urgency of the message, Shepard must have made it sound… compelling. He wants to see Kaidan before they go through the Omega 4 Relay and launch what his squad now lovingly calls their “suicide mission” (he certainly didn’t choose that name). But the thought of actually meeting Kaidan makes him feel restless. They didn’t part on good terms on Horizon. They said hurtful things, and Kaidan left seething with anger and resentment.
When Shepard sent his message, he felt that he needed to say so many things, explain so much. Now that their meeting is only a few hours away, he doesn’t think he will have the courage to tell Kaidan any of it. He might not get a second chance however. “Suicide mission” is not exactly a misnomer.
He stows the pad away and leans on the railing in front of him. He’s standing in one of the Citadel’s docking bays. His ship, the Normandy SR-2, is docked within sight, waiting to head out into space again. She’s beautiful, Shepard thinks. Without her, he could never have gotten this far. Her former incarnation first brought him here, to the Citadel, the centre of galactic power. Letting his gaze wander, Shepard can spot the arms of the space station stretch out for miles and miles towards the sun, harbouring a high-rise city scape bustling with activity. The light of the sun is spilling out over the wards and paints them in bright colours of blue, green and grey. It’s a breath-taking view.
Shepard vividly remembers the first time he visited the Citadel. Having grown up as a spacer kid, he’d been all over the Systems Alliance Space, and even the Attican Traverse. But the Citadel was special. He had never seen anything quite like it. The sheer size of the Citadel, the free mingling of species from all over the galaxy, the knowledge that this place had existed as a hub of the galactic civilization long before the humans made their appearance a few years back: it was amazing, and to be frank, quite humbling.
A memory flashes in front of his eyes. He’s standing with Kaidan and Ashley in the wards at another viewpoint, silhouettes against the city lights spreading out before their eyes. The spot is not unlike the place where he’s at now. They, too, are looking out on the Citadel, trying to take everything in. All of this is new to them, and they can feel the cautiousness, even disapproval humans are met with everywhere.
“We’ve got oceans, beautiful women and handsome men, this emotion called love. According to the old vids, we have everything they want,” Shepard joked in an attempt to ease the tension which they all felt. To which Kaidan responded: “When you put it that way, there’s no reason why they wouldn’t like you. I mean us. Humans. Sir.“ Ashley frowned and said: “You don’t take much shore leave, do you, Lt?”
Back then, Shepard just shook his head, smiling to himself, and didn’t think much about the comment. Ashley and Kaidan liked to tease each other. Kaidan was overwhelmed with the grandeur of the Citadel and the newness of the situation as they all were, and generally a little awkward with words. He didn’t mean anything by it. In hindsight, Shepard can see that it wasn’t Kaidan who was overwhelmed with the situation, but he himself. It made him blind for what grew right in front of his eyes.
Not even three years have passed since that day. And yet, it was in another life. Ashley is dead. And Kaidan? Shepard doubts that he will ever be able to regain the easy camaraderie he once shared with his staff lieutenant. He needs to meet Kaidan regardless. For old time’s sake.
***
Back in his cabin on the Normandy, Shepard takes a shower and gets ready for the evening. This shouldn’t be a big deal, yet he is going almost out of his mind trying to decide upon an outfit to wear. There aren’t very many items in his wardrobe to begin with. Now every last one of them is scattered on his bed and on the sofa.
Shepard pauses and looks around to take in the mess. How did he end up here? He’s going to meet the man he once considered his closest friend. Something casual should do just fine. For all he knows, this meeting might not last more than five minutes. But he wants to look good, too. He ends up settling on a pair of jeans and a leather jacket with a red stripe down the right shoulder and an N7 log emblazoned on the chest. The jacket is the flashiest item he owns. He might not be an Alliance officer any longer, but he still feels entitled to wear it. He’s an ICT grad and nobody can take that away from him. Not the Alliance, and most certainly not Cerberus.
“I’m heading out,” he tells EDI when he enters the elevator.
“Commander, I detect that the communications device in your omni-tool is not operational. You must have inadvertently deactivated it.”
Shepard folds his hands behind his back. “That didn’t happen by accident, EDI. I chose to deactivate it.”
“That is not advisable, Commander,” EDI retorts. “I highly recommend that you keep it activated at all times. If you fail to do so, I might not be able to track you.”
Shepard distributes his weight evenly on both legs to plant himself more firmly on the ground, waiting for the elevator doors to open. “Did it occur to you that I didn’t want to be tracked?”
“Negative. I don’t see why you would willingly expose yourself to such a risk. If something happens to you, I might not be able to inform the crew and start a rescue,” the ship’s AI objects.
“I’m sure nothing of the sort will be necessary,” Shepard replies as he makes his way through the CIC towards the airlock. He doesn’t intend to explain to her his wish for privacy.
“Are you deserting the ship before the suicide mission, Commander?”
Shepard decides it is better not to reply to this.
“That was a joke,” EDI explains.
“A poor one. But you’re getting there.”
“I detect that your blood pressure and heart rate are higher than usual. Are you feeling stressed?”
Shepard shakes his head. “I’m fine EDI.” He goes on to reassure her: “I know what I’m doing.”
“Very well, Commander.”