You As Well Must Die, Beloved 2
anonymous
August 12 2014, 02:02:10 UTC
Samara turned and gazed out on the stars. “It depends on how you define 'life' I suppose.”
Shepard collapsed into one of the seats, a hand on her stomach. “Can you sense it?”
“Shepard,” Samara's tone held a gentle chastisement, “Asari don't work like that.”
“I know, but- I was just hoping...I was hoping that maybe you could tell me something about it. I don't know anything about being a mother.”
Samara studied her closely. “Being a mother is not an easy task. It's having your very essence walk around outside of your own body.”
Shepard thought back to Omega and Morinth, when Samara had finally overcome her own daughter and stood over the motionless body of her child, she had looked so alone. “Do you ever regret it?”
“I regret neither killing her nor giving birth to her.”
Shepard turned away and paced the observation room. “Why? You were forced to kill her. Wouldn't it have been better to end it, before the world could turn on her and turn her into a...a-”
“A monster. My daughter was a monster.” Samara's voice was bleak, but accepting. Shepard supposed her daughter was subject she had thought about so much it had left a callous over the wound.
“Yes, and you could have stopped it. You never would have experienced that pain and neither would she. You could have protected her.”
“My mate was an asari, Shepard. We were considered selfish by other Asari, but I loved her. Elianna was beautiful, and smart, and strong. In many ways you remind me of her. The day I found out I was pregnant with each of my girl was so joyful. We loved them all so much.” Samara's eyes were clouded with memories. “I cherish every memory of them the goddess blessed me with, and I would trade none of them for all the money in the world.”
“But what about the day you found out what they were? What about them? If you could have saved them from that...”
Shepard turned. For a moment the two moment locked eyes. Samara closed the distance between them. “You want to protect this baby from the reapers. That's what you're really talking about.”
Shepard let the silence stretch between them.“War is coming Samara. And I can't convince the council to prepare for it. Hell, even the alliance won't listen to me.” She could no longer face Samara. She turned to the window and placed a hand on the glass. “We could all die. You, me, this-” she placed a hand on her stomach, “we could all die. Is it right to bring life into that world.”
“Shepard, we can not control the situations life deals us. I gave my children life and I gave them, as best I could, my morality. What they did with that was theirs and theirs alone. Even Morinth was acting off of the lessons I taught her.”
“Do you think I should have the baby?”
Samara put a hand on Shepard's shoulder. “You know what is important. You know your own path.”
“What if I can't do it? What if I'm not strong enough to be a mother?”
Samara stood next to her. “you will be. You'll understand soon.”
After a long time, Shepard turned to leave. Samara's voice stopped her. “Shepard. I can't sense everything, but I can sense how much you love this child already. Speaking as a Justicar, I'd tell you to to consider the burdens of millions, but as a woman-as a mother- I tell you to consider yourself and your baby.”
“Samara...” Shepard thought for a moment, “Thank you.” As she left the room she put a hand on her stomach. For a moment she imagined she could feel the tiny drumbeat matching her own heart. “hang in there, guy. We're in it together now.”
You As Well Must Die, Beloved 3
anonymous
August 20 2014, 02:55:31 UTC
II. The Scent of Flowers When Shepard docked the Normandy in the docking bay all but the essential personnel had disembarked. Joker and Chakwas, the engineering crew, and, for some enigmatic reason, Jack, had remained on board. It was a ghost town, quite literally. It was common knowledge that despite her best efforts, members of Shepard's crew had slipped through the cracks.
Anderson could feel the tension in the air when he walked aboard. Shepard, always the professional, called the deck to attention the second he was aboard and greeted him formally as he walked onto the bridge.
“At ease.”
He remembered what she looked like as a young soldier, still so angry. He liked to think he had in some way been responsible for what she had become. Over a decade later she wasn't angry anymore. She had carved the foundations of her life on the Alliance. No, it wasn't anger carved into her face, it was hurt, however she might try to hide it.
“Really Admiral?” she asked when she saw James behind him. “I'm turning myself in. You didn't need to bring an armed guard.” He didn't miss the use of his title. Before her death and resurrection she had walked into his office without invitation, and called him Anderson. It had been hard for her to accept the rejection of the council, and, by extension, the alliance.
He shifted uncomfortably. “Public opinion has shifted against you.” He sighed, “There were some news articles about the...incident.”
Shepard nodded slowly, “Let me guess: Butcher of Torfan Strikes Again”.
“That's about it.”
“How many reporters waiting?”
Anderson shook his head. “You don't want to know. Trust me. You how it is, one day you're the hero, the next you're the villain.”
Shepard focused on Vega. “Does he think I'm the butcher of Torfan?”
“I found him defending your honor in a bar on Omega.”
Shepard laughed. It wasn't the full throated sound he remembered from her younger years, but it was enough to reassure him she hadn't changed too much.
“Does he know I got myself knocked up?” She asked. Blunt as ever. She had told him when she had called him to arrange her surrender. She wasn't showing at all, but, according to her, it was still early. He had wanted to ask her what she planned to do about the Reapers if she was pregnant, but he had held his peace. It was hard to ask someone who had already given their life once, to make more sacrifices. He may not officially approve, but he had to respect her.
“Vega has been briefed on the situation.”
The marine had been less than thrilled about it. He had voiced all the concerns Anderson had not when Shepard told him. What happened if the reapers came before she delivered? Shepard was their biggest chance against the reapers. She had to be back on her feet before the invasion.
“Ok.” Shepard inhaled, “Just how bad is this going to be?”
“Bad. There was a press leak about where we're taking you.”
For the first time, Shepard looked nervous. “Anderson, how much trouble am I in?”He had downplayed the growing public sentiment against her in their last vid-call, and she was starting to sense the cover-up.
“Hackett said the alliance would back me up. He said he believed my report.”
“We do. But there's the rest of the council, and the press, and the public to convince.” She looked less than confident. “Shepard, we just have to hold the line until the reapers attack. As soon as you're proven right...”
“OK then.” Shepard said after a long moment. “Might as well get it over with.” She may not be convinced, but she was a soldier, and soldiers followed orders.
“So are you going to cuff me?”
“No.”
“Small comfort. Let's go then.”
She was covering up. Typical of her. He wanted to tell her she would be ok, that she would make it through this, and everyone would believe her eventually. But Anderson had never been one to reassure or lie like that. Instead he just nodded to Vega.
It wasn't just the human press that had shown up. There were asari, salarians, turians, all there to see “The Batarian Butcher” as the less reputable tabloids had been calling her. The noise was unbelievable. Even as a younger soldier, Shepard had displayed an ability to look at a situation that should terrify a sane human being, and show no emotion.
You As Well Must Die, Beloved 4
anonymous
August 20 2014, 02:57:34 UTC
There were a million reporters and rubber-neckers a million of the and the goddamn white flowers they had chosen as symbol were there as well. They were tucked into hair and button holes, woven around gates, and posts, and signs. The air was pungent with their perfume. Vega's driving was slowed by the people. He laid on the horn for few minutes, before resigning himself to simply idling down the road towards the security checkpoint.
“What's with the flowers?” Shepard asked.
Vega waved a hand dismissively, “They don't understand the real threat. They thin you just gunned down a few thousand batarians for fun. The flowers are their symbol.” He spoke for the first time. Shepard glanced at him with interest.
“Hundred thousand.” Shepard corrected.
The marine shook his head, “You really don't know how to do yourself any favors, do you?”
“Hey Anderson, did you know the brick wall you brought with you can talk?”
It was an avoidance tactic, but Anderson smiled and shook his head. “According t his file he's s pretty good shot, and rumor has it he's a short order breakfast cook two.”
Vega shrugged, “I do make pretty good juevos rancheros.”
They finally passed the throng of people kept in check by the perimeter guard. Vega rolled down the window and showed his ID. Shepard rolled down her window and looked back at the crowd. They must have caught sight of her because the roar of the crowd intensified.
She sat back after a moment. “It's been so long since I've been on earth I forgot what flowers smelled like.”
“You were never one to take time off.”
“I could never stand the hot food and soft beds.” She half smiled, “Guess I don't have a choice right now.”
When she saw the tiny apartment, Shepard looked less content.. It was no more than ta few hundred square feet. “So I'm just here until the trial begins?” She said, “Right?”
Anderson took a deep breath. “We'll see.” He knew that in all likelihood she'd be spending most of time locked inside this tiny prison.
Shepard picked up on his thoughts and glanced up at the ceiling. “I'm fucked, aren't I?” Her eyes roved from side to side as if she was searching for some escape.
Vega snorted. “You can say that again.”
Shepard shot him a look and Anderson waved a hand, “Dismissed for now, Vega. I'll call you when I need you.”
As the marine left, Shepard let out a sigh and sank into a chair. “God, I'm tired.” She looked old sitting there with her elbows on her knees. He wondered if it was the pregnancy, or the past two months as she had made a mad dash suicide mission, with no other ally than her worst enemies that had put so many lines on her face.
You As Well Must Die, Beloved 5
anonymous
August 20 2014, 02:58:02 UTC
“Have you thought about this? There's more to do. We've destroyed the collector base but-”
“But the reapers are still coming.” She looked up at him and nodded. “They're coming and I have to stop them. And the only hope of the galaxy is knocked up and under arrest. I understand.”
'So why?” He asked, “Explain it to me so I understand.”
“Because there has to be something after all of this, right?” She looked out the window, “I never thought about it much when I was fighting to stay alive, or when I was on a suicide mission. But there has to be something after. And maybe I cold be alive to see it.” She hung her head, “I never had a family Anderson. And I need something to fight for.” She blinked hard all of a sudden and cursed. Anderson pretended not to notice. “I used to fight for the alliance,” She said after a moment, “I guess I still do, but I need something more.”
Anderson sighed. “I can understand that.” His life had moved in the opposite direction as hers if he really thought about it. He had divorced his wife after too much time spent away, planet hopping. He regretted losing contact with his son. There were days, especially when he was ashore, that he wondered if he had made the right decision. But after years of living as a wanderer he had to admit, he was satisfied with what his life. He had spent his life in service of his country. He had had adventures beyond compare. That was all he had really wanted.
Shepard, on the other hand, was no patriot. There wasn't a romantic bone in her body. She had joined the alliance to escape a grim future spent between jail and the streets.
He realized that, in some ways he had barely considered her humanity. He had, of course, but not in the way that he did about other people. He had seen her tired, or in pain. He had seen her emotionally at her end. He was one of the few people to be able to claim that he knew her tells. He could see her nervousness, or anger, when she prided herself on being stoic. But she had fooled even him. He hadn't thought about what she might want. It wasn't that he saw her as a hero, it was that he saw her as a tool. He hadn't thought about the cost that might have for her.
“Shepard...” he found himself looking for the words to apologize.
“Anderson, should I do it? I mean I don't know anything.” She stood and paced. It was upsetting to see her upset. Shepard was a rock. She continued to pace. “I was just a kid on the streets. I don't know anything about being a parent, and I'm alone.”
She stopped, arms wrapped around her body. Then she took a deep breath. “I'm sorry Anderson. I...Chakwas says it's the hormones. I'm ok.” She took a long deep breathe and placed a hand on her stomach. She was still flat, but he recognized the maternal-ness of the action. For the first time she looked like a mother.
He stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Shepard, you won't be alone. Not for the trial, not for any of it. I won't leave you to deal with the council on your own.” And because she was a soldier he removed his hand and faced her squarely.
“The Shepard I know doesn't doubt her decisions. Pull your self together, Commander.”
Shepard nodded and straightened. In a moment she looked like the soldier he knew. The hero.
“Thank you,” She nodded to herself, “Thank you.”
“I'll make sure we provide whatever medical care you need.”
“Ok,” Shepard said, “But it needs to be discreet. I don't want a press leak.”
Anderson nodded, “We'll do everything we can.” For now, he didn't ask her what would happen when her condition became noticeable.
The facade slipped only a moment as her fingers tapped out a rhythm on her pants. “Thank you.” She said finally. “I'm really tired. I'm going to get some shut eye. There's nothing else to do.”
“Good.” He walked towards the door, but turned at the last moment, “Shepard, rest for now. I will take care of whatever needs done. We're going to be ready.”
Shepard nodded. He could see her through the window when he looked back once. She was sitting on the couch, a hand on her abdomen, her lips moved as though she was praying.
Shepard collapsed into one of the seats, a hand on her stomach. “Can you sense it?”
“Shepard,” Samara's tone held a gentle chastisement, “Asari don't work like that.”
“I know, but- I was just hoping...I was hoping that maybe you could tell me something about it. I don't know anything about being a mother.”
Samara studied her closely. “Being a mother is not an easy task. It's having your very essence walk around outside of your own body.”
Shepard thought back to Omega and Morinth, when Samara had finally overcome her own daughter and stood over the motionless body of her child, she had looked so alone. “Do you ever regret it?”
“I regret neither killing her nor giving birth to her.”
Shepard turned away and paced the observation room. “Why? You were forced to kill her. Wouldn't it have been better to end it, before the world could turn on her and turn her into a...a-”
“A monster. My daughter was a monster.” Samara's voice was bleak, but accepting. Shepard supposed her daughter was subject she had thought about so much it had left a callous over the wound.
“Yes, and you could have stopped it. You never would have experienced that pain and neither would she. You could have protected her.”
“My mate was an asari, Shepard. We were considered selfish by other Asari, but I loved her. Elianna was beautiful, and smart, and strong. In many ways you remind me of her. The day I found out I was pregnant with each of my girl was so joyful. We loved them all so much.” Samara's eyes were clouded with memories. “I cherish every memory of them the goddess blessed me with, and I would trade none of them for all the money in the world.”
“But what about the day you found out what they were? What about them? If you could have saved them from that...”
Shepard turned. For a moment the two moment locked eyes. Samara closed the distance between them. “You want to protect this baby from the reapers. That's what you're really talking about.”
Shepard let the silence stretch between them.“War is coming Samara. And I can't convince the council to prepare for it. Hell, even the alliance won't listen to me.” She could no longer face Samara. She turned to the window and placed a hand on the glass. “We could all die. You, me, this-” she placed a hand on her stomach, “we could all die. Is it right to bring life into that world.”
“Shepard, we can not control the situations life deals us. I gave my children life and I gave them, as best I could, my morality. What they did with that was theirs and theirs alone. Even Morinth was acting off of the lessons I taught her.”
“Do you think I should have the baby?”
Samara put a hand on Shepard's shoulder. “You know what is important. You know your own path.”
“What if I can't do it? What if I'm not strong enough to be a mother?”
Samara stood next to her. “you will be. You'll understand soon.”
After a long time, Shepard turned to leave. Samara's voice stopped her. “Shepard. I can't sense everything, but I can sense how much you love this child already. Speaking as a Justicar, I'd tell you to to consider the burdens of millions, but as a woman-as a mother- I tell you to consider yourself and your baby.”
“Samara...” Shepard thought for a moment, “Thank you.” As she left the room she put a hand on her stomach. For a moment she imagined she could feel the tiny drumbeat matching her own heart. “hang in there, guy. We're in it together now.”
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When Shepard docked the Normandy in the docking bay all but the essential personnel had disembarked. Joker and Chakwas, the engineering crew, and, for some enigmatic reason, Jack, had remained on board. It was a ghost town, quite literally. It was common knowledge that despite her best efforts, members of Shepard's crew had slipped through the cracks.
Anderson could feel the tension in the air when he walked aboard. Shepard, always the professional, called the deck to attention the second he was aboard and greeted him formally as he walked onto the bridge.
“At ease.”
He remembered what she looked like as a young soldier, still so angry. He liked to think he had in some way been responsible for what she had become. Over a decade later she wasn't angry anymore. She had carved the foundations of her life on the Alliance. No, it wasn't anger carved into her face, it was hurt, however she might try to hide it.
“Really Admiral?” she asked when she saw James behind him. “I'm turning myself in. You didn't need to bring an armed guard.” He didn't miss the use of his title. Before her death and resurrection she had walked into his office without invitation, and called him Anderson. It had been hard for her to accept the rejection of the council, and, by extension, the alliance.
He shifted uncomfortably. “Public opinion has shifted against you.” He sighed, “There were some news articles about the...incident.”
Shepard nodded slowly, “Let me guess: Butcher of Torfan Strikes Again”.
“That's about it.”
“How many reporters waiting?”
Anderson shook his head. “You don't want to know. Trust me. You how it is, one day you're the hero, the next you're the villain.”
Shepard focused on Vega. “Does he think I'm the butcher of Torfan?”
“I found him defending your honor in a bar on Omega.”
Shepard laughed. It wasn't the full throated sound he remembered from her younger years, but it was enough to reassure him she hadn't changed too much.
“Does he know I got myself knocked up?” She asked. Blunt as ever. She had told him when she had called him to arrange her surrender. She wasn't showing at all, but, according to her, it was still early. He had wanted to ask her what she planned to do about the Reapers if she was pregnant, but he had held his peace. It was hard to ask someone who had already given their life once, to make more sacrifices. He may not officially approve, but he had to respect her.
“Vega has been briefed on the situation.”
The marine had been less than thrilled about it. He had voiced all the concerns Anderson had not when Shepard told him. What happened if the reapers came before she delivered? Shepard was their biggest chance against the reapers. She had to be back on her feet before the invasion.
“Ok.” Shepard inhaled, “Just how bad is this going to be?”
“Bad. There was a press leak about where we're taking you.”
For the first time, Shepard looked nervous. “Anderson, how much trouble am I in?”He had downplayed the growing public sentiment against her in their last vid-call, and she was starting to sense the cover-up.
“Hackett said the alliance would back me up. He said he believed my report.”
“We do. But there's the rest of the council, and the press, and the public to convince.” She looked less than confident. “Shepard, we just have to hold the line until the reapers attack. As soon as you're proven right...”
“OK then.” Shepard said after a long moment. “Might as well get it over with.” She may not be convinced, but she was a soldier, and soldiers followed orders.
“So are you going to cuff me?”
“No.”
“Small comfort. Let's go then.”
She was covering up. Typical of her. He wanted to tell her she would be ok, that she would make it through this, and everyone would believe her eventually. But Anderson had never been one to reassure or lie like that. Instead he just nodded to Vega.
It wasn't just the human press that had shown up. There were asari, salarians, turians, all there to see “The Batarian Butcher” as the less reputable tabloids had been calling her. The noise was unbelievable. Even as a younger soldier, Shepard had displayed an ability to look at a situation that should terrify a sane human being, and show no emotion.
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“What's with the flowers?” Shepard asked.
Vega waved a hand dismissively, “They don't understand the real threat. They thin you just gunned down a few thousand batarians for fun. The flowers are their symbol.” He spoke for the first time. Shepard glanced at him with interest.
“Hundred thousand.” Shepard corrected.
The marine shook his head, “You really don't know how to do yourself any favors, do you?”
“Hey Anderson, did you know the brick wall you brought with you can talk?”
It was an avoidance tactic, but Anderson smiled and shook his head. “According t his file he's s pretty good shot, and rumor has it he's a short order breakfast cook two.”
Vega shrugged, “I do make pretty good juevos rancheros.”
They finally passed the throng of people kept in check by the perimeter guard. Vega rolled down the window and showed his ID. Shepard rolled down her window and looked back at the crowd. They must have caught sight of her because the roar of the crowd intensified.
She sat back after a moment. “It's been so long since I've been on earth I forgot what flowers smelled like.”
“You were never one to take time off.”
“I could never stand the hot food and soft beds.” She half smiled, “Guess I don't have a choice right now.”
When she saw the tiny apartment, Shepard looked less content.. It was no more than ta few hundred square feet. “So I'm just here until the trial begins?” She said, “Right?”
Anderson took a deep breath. “We'll see.” He knew that in all likelihood she'd be spending most of time locked inside this tiny prison.
Shepard picked up on his thoughts and glanced up at the ceiling. “I'm fucked, aren't I?” Her eyes roved from side to side as if she was searching for some escape.
Vega snorted. “You can say that again.”
Shepard shot him a look and Anderson waved a hand, “Dismissed for now, Vega. I'll call you when I need you.”
As the marine left, Shepard let out a sigh and sank into a chair. “God, I'm tired.” She looked old sitting there with her elbows on her knees. He wondered if it was the pregnancy, or the past two months as she had made a mad dash suicide mission, with no other ally than her worst enemies that had put so many lines on her face.
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“Have you thought about this? There's more to do. We've destroyed the collector base but-”
“But the reapers are still coming.” She looked up at him and nodded. “They're coming and I have to stop them. And the only hope of the galaxy is knocked up and under arrest. I understand.”
'So why?” He asked, “Explain it to me so I understand.”
“Because there has to be something after all of this, right?” She looked out the window, “I never thought about it much when I was fighting to stay alive, or when I was on a suicide mission. But there has to be something after. And maybe I cold be alive to see it.” She hung her head, “I never had a family Anderson. And I need something to fight for.” She blinked hard all of a sudden and cursed. Anderson pretended not to notice. “I used to fight for the alliance,” She said after a moment, “I guess I still do, but I need something more.”
Anderson sighed. “I can understand that.” His life had moved in the opposite direction as hers if he really thought about it. He had divorced his wife after too much time spent away, planet hopping. He regretted losing contact with his son. There were days, especially when he was ashore, that he wondered if he had made the right decision. But after years of living as a wanderer he had to admit, he was satisfied with what his life. He had spent his life in service of his country. He had had adventures beyond compare. That was all he had really wanted.
Shepard, on the other hand, was no patriot. There wasn't a romantic bone in her body. She had joined the alliance to escape a grim future spent between jail and the streets.
He realized that, in some ways he had barely considered her humanity. He had, of course, but not in the way that he did about other people. He had seen her tired, or in pain. He had seen her emotionally at her end. He was one of the few people to be able to claim that he knew her tells. He could see her nervousness, or anger, when she prided herself on being stoic. But she had fooled even him. He hadn't thought about what she might want. It wasn't that he saw her as a hero, it was that he saw her as a tool. He hadn't thought about the cost that might have for her.
“Shepard...” he found himself looking for the words to apologize.
“Anderson, should I do it? I mean I don't know anything.” She stood and paced. It was upsetting to see her upset. Shepard was a rock. She continued to pace. “I was just a kid on the streets. I don't know anything about being a parent, and I'm alone.”
She stopped, arms wrapped around her body. Then she took a deep breath. “I'm sorry Anderson. I...Chakwas says it's the hormones. I'm ok.” She took a long deep breathe and placed a hand on her stomach. She was still flat, but he recognized the maternal-ness of the action. For the first time she looked like a mother.
He stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Shepard, you won't be alone. Not for the trial, not for any of it. I won't leave you to deal with the council on your own.” And because she was a soldier he removed his hand and faced her squarely.
“The Shepard I know doesn't doubt her decisions. Pull your self together, Commander.”
Shepard nodded and straightened. In a moment she looked like the soldier he knew. The hero.
“Thank you,” She nodded to herself, “Thank you.”
“I'll make sure we provide whatever medical care you need.”
“Ok,” Shepard said, “But it needs to be discreet. I don't want a press leak.”
Anderson nodded, “We'll do everything we can.” For now, he didn't ask her what would happen when her condition became noticeable.
The facade slipped only a moment as her fingers tapped out a rhythm on her pants. “Thank you.” She said finally. “I'm really tired. I'm going to get some shut eye. There's nothing else to do.”
“Good.” He walked towards the door, but turned at the last moment, “Shepard, rest for now. I will take care of whatever needs done. We're going to be ready.”
Shepard nodded. He could see her through the window when he looked back once. She was sitting on the couch, a hand on her abdomen, her lips moved as though she was praying.
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Truly Shepard is between a rock and a hard place with the decision and I can't and couldn't argue with either decision.
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