Shepard left the lab on the second deck not knowing what to think. As soon as they'd come back to the Normandy, she had wanted to make sure Mordin was fine after what had happened with Maelon. A brief conversation with him made it clear that the doctor had already moved on. He confessed to having dealt with the issue while they were still on Tuchanka and on their way back in the shuttle. Now he wanted to focus on his work, he had said with his big almond-shaped eyes stuck to the microscope.
Shepard was unsure whether to admire his apparent composure, or wonder how salarians managed to process an emotionally complex moment, such as almost killing an ex-student and colleague, so quickly. The professor had explained that, due to his species' short life expectancy, salarians possessed a necessarily efficient method for coping with personal matters. They couldn't allow themselves the luxury of getting stuck in the past, knowing their lives were short.
Despite this, Shepard had retorted that Maelon's actions contradicted such an explanation, for it had been because of his regret and guilt for having worked on the genophage modification project that he had attempted to find a cure for Clan Weyrloc, even if that meant performing horrible experiments on humans and krogan to get results. Mordin accepted this argument, saying not all salarians could move on as diligently as he, for there were many who became victims of their circumstances and emotions, unable to carry on with their lives and even adopting obsessive behaviors, as had been the case for his ex-student. In spite of that, Shepard still doubted whether his stubbornly logical and pragmatic approach wasn't in fact a sophisticated emotional defense mechanism the salarian had created, perhaps unconsciously, to somehow deal with the tremendous ethical and moral weight of his work in the salarian STG.
As she went up to the first deck in the elevator, Shepard thought about how easy her life would be if she had Doctor Solus' almost magical capacity to leave the past in the past and carry on. It seemed insultingly simple to do, when it was put like that. While she removed her armor covered with dust and vorcha and krogan blood, then stripped to get under the shower, she realized how naive it was to aspire to such a solution.
The surgical scars left by Cerberus still split her body like a map engraved in her skin without her consent. They were a constant reminder of her death. She looked at her reflection in the mirror above the washbasin and thought of a broken ceramic pot whose pieces had been glued back together.
She washed herself in a mechanical way, lost in thought. She massaged her scalp with the new shampoo she'd bought on the Citadel, oblivious to her own movements. She and her body seemed like two divorced entities. She placed one hand on her lower abdomen and the other on the nape of her neck. On purpose, she brushed her skin with her fingertips. She didn't feel anything other than a simple tickle. Before her death, a slight touch would have roused her libido, but now the skin simply existed as a necessary layer to cover the expensive implants beneath. She didn't know the total percentage of her cybernetic implants in her body for certain, but she sensed they were more than fifty percent. Was her skin one of them as well? The constant sky, clouds are no more than thoughts which temporarily cover it, she whispered to herself, willing herself away from the images her mind insisted on projecting. She washed the foam off, dried herself and dressed in her N7 tracksuit and hoodie.
As she went down to the third deck, Shepard approached Life Support. The door's lock was green. She felt Thane's performance on Tuchanka that day deserved a personal acknowledgement on her part. She took a few steps into the room and stood still. Either he wasn't alone, or he was talking with someone. Shepard began to turn towards the door as she heard something that mesmerized her. Was he reminiscing upon his life out loud?
"'Irikah has given birth. Mother and son are well. We're awaiting you.'"
"I'm a father. I've become a father. I feel my stomach tighten."
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Arashu's Gift
FanfictionThane Krios is the best elite assassin in the galaxy. And he has less than a year to live. He decides to perform one last altruistic act by killing an asari mobster and just as he is about to embrace Kalahira's calling, Commander Shepard of the Alli...