~ Stanza 1 · The Strike Team ~

Artemis Tau is a cluster of stars,

Middled aged stars, hot, pulsing red stars.

They glow in the distance like apricot moons,

Blazing unceasing in unfading noons.

The Artemis dust cloud, hanging in space

Glows like a tapestry red-gold with lace,

Half hiding the blaze of the great Milky Way

Returning the light of Artemis’ day.

Somewhere within this shining expanse

Is the only child of our foe’s confidant.

Whether Dr. T’Soni is friend or foe

At this point in time, I really don’t know.

But I fear the use she could be to Saren

And I hope she knows her mother’s location.

The Normandy’s all that they said she would be,

Quiet and fast and quite hard to see.

She runs like a dream (I think Joker’s in love)

Her drive core hums like a cooing dove.

The crew sails her well with eager intentions.

But under the surface, there’s simmering tension.

Presley, the Navigator and new XO,

Is clearly unhappy but won’t tell me so.

Gunnery-Chief Williams however speaks straight.

She doesn’t trust our alien shipmates.

She doesn’t like that they are aboard.

She grates me with her suspicious, sharp words.

‘Will this be a problem in combat, Williams?

I need you to be able to work with them.’

‘No, Ma’am. It won’t be. I can rub by.

It’s a matter of safety, of info-leaks.

But you ask me to jump, and I say, “how high”?

And if – “kiss a Turian”, well then, “which cheek”?’

She looks at me straight with bold black eyes,

Unabashed in her notions but bright in reply.

‘Well, I doubt kissing Turians will be necessary.

I’ll try not to ask you for something that scary.’

Wrex is merc, that is very true.

I don’t trust him and sometimes I rue

The impulse which led me to bring him aboard

Yet this is his job and he’s known for his word.

He chills and cracks tales in the hold below,

Makes no sort of trouble, deals no foul blows.

Tali – the girl’s barely more than a kid

Sent out alone, and for nothing she did.

The Quarian’s have a rite of passage

Which they call merely the ‘Pilgrimage’

The Migrant Fleet leaves them, all on their own

To sink or to swim when they’re barely full grown.

Those who return and bring back something more

Than they started out with, are brought back aboard.

Tali assures me it need not be much

Just something to prove that you don’t need a crutch.

Her people are nomads, floating in space.

They built the Geth – that fell robot race.

Their servants revolted. They fought for their lives.

The battle was lost and they took to the skies.

So they float ever in rickety-ships

Pressed for resources, counting their chips.

I can’t help but smile and laugh when I see

How amazed the girl is by the Normandy.

She’s made herself useful. She’s a sharp engineer.

Chief Engineer Adams likes having her here.

And eager young Garrus, the Turian cop?

He has already fought beside me.

In the dim and grungy back-alley

Young Tali’s would-be assassin he dropped.

Garrus left C-Sec over this case,

Sick of the red-tape, the time gone to waste

Grieved for the unavenged victims defaced

Enraged by this Turian disgrace.

And he is as eager as any man here

To track down this criminal, this scourge of fear.

No! I have no fear for Garrus!

Unless it just might be

That in his righteous anxiousness

To do the rightful deeds,

In his single-minded focus

On preventing some injustice

He may trample heedless over something just as large

And, unthinking, towards some evil innocently charge.

In honest cheer, he mentions once:

‘That’s what I like about the spectres.

How did you do it? It shouldn’t matter.

As long as you get the job done!’

‘Not if it gets people hurt, Garrus.

We have leave to ignore the red tape.

But the “how” darn well better matter to us.

We do things right. Are we straight?’

But it was the right he was talking about!

And not letting hurt happen for bureaucrats’ doubts!

At least Alenko does not seem to mind

The presence among us of alien-kind.

He has concerns for the mission, true.

He thinks that we’re in a political brew,

And he doesn’t quite trust large organizations

With all their politics and limitations.

The Council, yes, and the Alliance too.

They can be corrupt, unwise, and untrue.

The current struggle for clout and positions

Might get in the way of this critical mission.

But on the plain topic of ‘aliens’,

He doesn’t seem to think ill of them

He doesn’t claim any special mistrust.

He says:

‘They’re jerks and they’re saints – like us.’

When a distress call draws us from our course

To barren Edolus where lies the weak source.

It’s Tali and Garrus I take down with me

Down in the truck to look round and see.

~ Stanza 2 · On the Sands of Edolus ~

The sky is the colour of mustard brew.

The cold ground beneath us could never construe

A fleck of good earth on its sharp barren slopes.

Sand trickles round us in hard wind-blown ropes.

In our truck, the “Mako”, we search fruitlessly

The Quarian, the Turian, and human me.

The site is bare rock, sand, poison wind

Though we scour the ground where the signal rings.

But there’s scattered equipment about in the dust

Rent, as if gnawed, and half eaten with rust.

I know it still, the marks are still clear.

A squad of Alliance marines died here.

The killer soon finds us, a huge snake-like beast

With a foul ringed maw, and limbs many pieced.

I take the wheel and Garrus the guns.

Tali just tries to make sure the truck runs.

Long we give battle on pallid grey sands

Between the dark hills in their tumbling bands.

But the killer is killed by the Mako’s hot blasts

And Garrus’ quick eyes and his clawed hand so fast.

The marines who died did not send the call.

It was set up before, they were lured to their fall.

We cannot discover who did it or why,

Who set it up to send cries to the sky.

One well placed shot blows the death trap away.

We contact the ship, and we fly away.

No travellers more will be lured to its hands

But never those men will return from the sands.

~ Stanza 3 · World of the Ancients ~

Therum was formed many ages ago,

From the hot iron rocks that round Knossos flowed

For aeons it bloomed and blossomed and grew

Peoples there flourished, who we never knew.

Long since it was emptied of rational nau,

A few marks still stand, surviving somehow,

Where the land has not changed to bury them,

Where the sea has not risen engulfing them,

Where the mountains rose not to break them in pieces

Where they fell not as prey to weather’s caprices.

It’s chiefly for these few crumbling ruins

That the planet is taken note of at all

Few things now grow there

Wizened and small.

An ancient world, drawn close to its sun,

A sad, empty world, it’s days near done.

We turn to the miner’s posts. They send back our hails.

But no Asari is told in their tales.

So to barren ruins we turn our gaze,

Scanning for signs in each far hidden maze

Of recent activity, working machines

Or signs of life other than sad native gleams.

In a dry northern region not far from the pole

In a volcanic region where few things are whole

A ruin exists, extensive and crumbled

With quite recent structures, built-up and jumbled.

No one answers our hails, yet there’s movement below

So through the thin atmosphere down the ship goes.

I assemble two teams to search through the ruin.

I take Alenko and Garrus Vakarian,

The second I place under Williams’ command,

Assigning her Tali and Wrex as her band,

The Quarian mechanic and the big Krogan merc.

Show me you can, Williams. Make this team work.

We drop off Squad Bravo in a densely packed stretch

To search it on foot, while my squad takes the rest.

~ Stanza 4 · Dust and Ash ~

Over a rippled and reddened landscape

Lit up with the glow of the rivers that drape

Their hot molten ore across the worn bluffs

The Mako rumbles and climbs through the dust.

We call through the hot, thin, but breathable air,

We scan for fresh footprints on weathered stairs.

Our infra-red scanners are no good at all.

Volcanic activity makes life-forms too small

To stand out on the background of radiant heat.

We look with our eyes, there’s no way to cheat.

The sky is dark with volcanic smoke.

When the wind’s from the north the air starts to choke.

Garrus keeps checking we don’t dehydrate

And bits of heat training he coolly relates.

As Kaidan Alenko wipes sweat from his brow,

He points out that at least the humidity’s low.

They march cheerfully, stoutly along by my side

Combing the ruin in the dust, heat, and dry.

As we drive out of a rugged ravine

Onto a plateau that’s ripped up and seamed

I glimpse swift bipedals of polymer steel

I hit the accelerator, grip tighter the wheel.

‘Bravo Squad! We have Geth! Watch your backs!’ I shout.

‘Garrus! The guns. Lieutenant, scanner readout.’

A missile blast streams past

Crashes a cliff.

Rock flies into the skies.

The ground shifts.

This was the movement. Seen far from the sky.

They’re here for T’Soni, as foes or allies.

Those blocking our path fall to Garrus’ sharp aim

And we swiftly keep on by the rivers of flame.

~ Stanza 5 · The Guard at the Stope ~

Shortly we come to a pass through a cliff

So small and so steep that the Mako can’t fit.

We leave the truck parked and slip into the rift

And climb between boulders that crumble and shift

Till we emerge on a broad rising slope

That leads to a open, wide miners’ stope,

A recent built shaft leading into the ground

With modern metals and platforms framed round.

But the open equipment shed before it…

Our omni-tools’ radar is picking up hits.

Forward we dash to the shed and take shelter

Amongst the equipment which lies helter-skelter.

Then from the dust beyond the platform.

On four mighty legs like a spider deformed

There rises a huge and terrible Geth

Nearly as broad as the low structure’s breadth.

Great plasma bolts fly from its fearful head

Where the bolts crash, crushed metal glows red.

The lesser Geth fall as they come on.

But deadly, unmoved is the one beyond.

I lean out of cover to take a shot.

One moment I’m there, the next I am not.

I’m on the ground. My barrier’s down.

My limbs are numb, head’s spinning around.

Through foggy eyes, unfocused and red

I realize a Geth is come, over my head.

Crack! The sound of a lone sniper rifle.

The sharp scent of medi-gel through the air’s stifle.

And a big Turian claw and a strong human hand

Lift me back to my feet, and I find I can stand.

Of the small Geth, not one soldier remains.

The one Garrus shot was the last to be slain.

But still the colossus, huge in the gloom,

Hunts in the twilight of volcanic fume.

The walls are scorched with the plasma blasts,

The abandoned equipment is pulverized, smashed.

But we can still hide, make it guess where we are.

We don’t have to guess, it’s seen from afar.

Shot after shot, hurled biotic fields,

Little by little, we wear down its shields,

Til our blows against bare metal lash

And the monster topples; a screeching crash.

We sink down on the rubble bleeding and dazed

Exhausted and bruised, relieved and amazed.

Smoke fumes up from the wreck of our foe

On hot blistering winds to the ash clouds it blows.

We apply first-aid before we go on

Sitting under the ramp where the dark stope yawns.

The medi-gel seals our burning gashes

Cools inflammation from forceful crashes

Refreshes, revives, and clears our sore heads.

We rise, lift our gear, and march on ahead.

The stope leads steeply into the ground

Echoes rattle away as our booted feet pound.

Lamps flash up before us, lighting the mine,

Flicker out as we pass, dark follows behind.

~ Stanza 6 · The Maiden in the Ruin ~

Long we search through the ancient rooms

Their purpose lost in endless glooms

Til deep in the maze far under the ground

Where clatter of rock is the only sound

I see in the distance a pale cool light

Beyond the orange lamps, in the long buried night.

We follow and come to a gap in the wall

That seems to be filled with a waterfall,

Translucent, impassable, softly it glows

Over our faces its rippling light flows.

Suspended within it, a blue maiden floats.

To us she calls in mellifluous notes.

‘Hello! Hello! Can you hear me out there?

Please help me, I’m trapped, I’ve been caught in a snare.’

Her face is young, like a blooming girl

Smoothly away her pert head-tails curl.

Her eyes are as blue and as round as the sky.

Her small, dainty hands are work-hardened and dry.

She is dressed in a slender tunic of green.

That face is the sweetest that I’ve ever seen.

‘We hear you!’ I call. ‘We’ll get you out.

But what is your name? What is this about?’

‘I’m just a researcher, Liara T’Soni.

This is an old Prothean piece of security.

I turned the field on to hold off the Geth.

But I did something wrong…’ she seems short of breath.

‘-This was probably meant to catch persons of doubt.

Now the Geth can’t get in, but I can’t get out.’

‘Can you tell me how to shut down the field?’

‘Yes, there’s a button. Just past this shield.

It’s out of my reach, over there on the wall.

But you can’t get through here, that’s no good at all.

And I know of no other passage but this.

I cannot direct you to paths in the darkness.

‘We’ll find one.’ I say. ‘Stay calm, you’ll get out.’

‘The Geth have been trying, searching about.

Be careful out there, there’s a Krogan who leads them.

The Geth may be deadly, but beware of him!’

I call to the ship, let them know she’s been found,

But we’ll be some time for she’s bound underground.

We leave the blue maiden floating alone

And take a dark path leading off through the stone.

~ Stanza 7 · Farther into the Mine ~

Back and forth along the line

Through the dark and dusty mine

We travel scanning for a road

To lead us back into the hold

But paths all turn and twist away

Or turn to dead ends far from day.

At times we encounter small troops of Geth

Combing the labyrinth, searching the depths.

That they have pursued her is beyond doubt.

Garrus halloos:

‘Hey, Shepard! Check this out.’

It’s an old mining laser left here to rust

It’s worn, out of power, and covered in dust.

But he thinks he can get it to wake up and run

(He likes to tinker, it’s useful and fun.)

The miners left power banks, as shown by the lights.

Alenko sets out to the upper heights

To divert the power, whatever is left

And bring it down to the drill in the cleft.

I with my omnitool sound out the halls

The sonar bleeps testing the depth of the walls

The three of us haul the drill through the dark

To the spot that I’ve found, and set off a spark.

Red blazes hot in the narrow space

The three of us spin round and swiftly race

Away from the crack of rock, shatters of stone

As the drill breaks apart the earth’s granite bones.

Then the scream peters out and the light fades away.

And we make our way back through the settling stone spray

Of splintered rock and choking hot dust.

The drill’s power’s gone, the reserves hadn’t much.

But a broken path lies through the bone of the ground.

The granite still rumbles; a strange shifting sound.

The opening of the tunnel is wide

The rock sizzles and cracks as we walk inside.

The heat’s like an oven but air’s rushing through

The hot and the cold turning it to a flue.

As we go on it gets filled with crushed rock

Till near the end the path’s almost blocked

A biotic blast and then some hand-work

The narrow way widens. We climb through the murk.

~ Stanza 8 · The Quake ~

In the blackness we search for an upward path

Climbing old stairwells half fallen and crashed,

Counting the levels and measuring the depth

Making sure that our sense of direction is kept.

Our only light is the lamps on our guns.

Now and again, the uncountable tons

Of granite above us, grumble and shake,

Slow growing tremors, minor earth-quakes.

Finally above us, we see the blue light

And climb the last stairwell, blinking in bright.

‘You made it!’

Her voice falls like dew on the grass.

‘I was afraid there might be no way past!’

‘We couldn’t find one. So we made one instead.’

‘Oh. That’s what that was. The crash was widespread.

That panel, right there. It should release me.’

I reach out to touch it, but Garrus stops me.

‘Hang on, Shepard! You sure we can trust her?

Her mother’s with Saren. Where does that leave her?’

‘I am not my mother!’ Liara cries.

‘I don’t know how she joined Saren or why!’

Her voice is indignant, her head is held high

Her hov’ring form quivers, and flash her blue eyes.

‘The Geth are clearly pursuing her, Garrus.

And even if not, I’d still have to chance it.’

A moment’s work and the shimmering blue field

Flickers outs and collapses, the doorway unseals.

Liara lands lightly on slippered toes

And turns to face us where our white lamp light glows.

‘Thank-you. It was so long in the dark and the silence

… And the eyes of the Geth. You’re with the Alliance?’

‘Yes. I’m Commander Rosamund Shepard.

We came to find you, I take it you’ve heard

Of your mother’s friend and the people he slew.

Do you know why his Geth have come after you?’

‘No I do not!’ She shudders, and then:

‘You don’t suppose that Benezia sent them?’

Alenko speaks calmly out to her

‘You are a well known Prothean researcher.

Saren is looking for the “Conduit”.

He probably wants you to help search for it.’

Before Liara can answer a word,

A louder rumble, crashing, is heard.

The ground starts to shake and the stone above cracks.

Shattered rock crashes about in the black.

We’ve triggered an earthquake while under the ground.

This place is unstable. It’s going to come down.

‘Let’s go! No more words!’

I sprint through the trap.

Behind me, the three run behind in the black.

Without the orange lights, the way is more deadly

We run with our lamps held aloft so we see

The myriad pitfalls, precipitous drops,

The fallen stone heaps in leg breaking blocks.

Over my com, I hear Joker calling.

I do not stop. I answer while running.

‘That volcano, Commander? It’s having a fit.

We’ve got to leave soon or we’re going to catch it!’

‘Squad Bravo’s aboard?’

‘Not yet, Commander.’

‘What’s held them up?! Go get them, Joker.

We’re on our way now. I’ll send our nav-point.

And the Mako is parked. Near the gorge. Just adjoint.

Pick it up and stand by. We’ll be there. Soon.’

‘Okay, Commander. But she’s not immune.’

“She” is the Normandy, our beautiful ship.

Joker sounds worried…

Crack! The wall rips.

Stone slides and crashes to depths we just guess.

Light shines ahead through a doorway, lifeless.

~ Stanza 9 · Envoy of Saren ~

In the chamber before us many Geth stand.

Silent and waiting, a cold statue band.

Through their ranks stumps a hulking orange mass.

Geth slide aside, and slide back when it’s past.

‘Just hand the Asari over, Human.

Or don’t. If you’d rather. That’s lots more fun.’

The maiden beside me stands straight and stiff.

The chamber walls shudder, an ancient sill slips.

‘This place is collapsing.’ I shout. ‘We can’t fight!’

He oafishly chortles: ‘Oh, we can alright.’

‘What do you want with Dr. T’Soni?’

‘Saren wants her for something, didn’t tell me.

You better come, girl. You’ll find out more later.

‘No!’ Liara’s voice rings through the air,

‘I will not go with you anywhere!

And I certainly will not help Saren the traitor!’

‘Thank-you, Liara T’Soni.’ I breathe.

I prepare to defend her. We all four will leave.

Alenko and Garrus, on our left and our right

Close quietly in, our circle grows tight.

The earth above groans in its own deadly fight.

Our barriers spring and our ring becomes bright.

‘You heard the Lady. Now let us pass!’

I speak mere defiance. He knows and he laughs.

His Geth slip tighter to seal fast the road.

‘One thing, ere we go-’ I add ‘-to what abode

Would you have taken her if she had come?’

‘To his ship!’ he snorts. ‘In space! Are you dumb?

Kill them.’ he croaks. ‘Except the Asari.

If you can help it. No skin off me.’

The change in the motionless horde is abrupt.

One moment they’re still. Then madness erupts.

The old dusty chamber so long dark and still,

Blazes with fury and gunfire screams shrill.

A whirlpool of chaos, of flying steel

Exploding plasma and biotic fields.

Tornadic winds send the dust all awhirl

Through the chaos the quake its sharp stone shards hurls.

On my right hand, Garrus’ rifle cries out

Back to my back, Alenko hurls Geth about.

n my left is the scholarly youthful blue girl.

But what is this? Around her light swirls!

I only half see her, beside as I fight

Yet her small hands spin masses of light,

Which form, coalesce into globes of dark blue

Pulsing and glowing with reflective hue,

And whirl away towards the mass of our foes

Catching them up in the field as they go.

The Krogan is dead. I saw not by whom.

Though we are battered, now fewer Geth loom

Driven back ‘neath our blasts to the walls of the room

Over our heads, the rocks itself booms.

‘Break off and come now!’ I shout to my crew,

And sprint up the steps to the chamber door, through.

‘Commander, where are you!?’ I hear Joker shout.

‘We’re coming! Hold on if you can!’ I call out.

Rock crashes behind, before, overhead.

I leap to the side and look back whence we sped.

‘Ahead of me! Go! Go! Straight up the slope!’

They hurtle past, in the dust, up the stope,

Garrus. Liara. Alenko. All there.

I swing in behind them and bring up the rear.

Light shines ahead, Therum’s dim, rusty day

Seen through the dust and the fallen stone spray.

We leap from the tunnel, are hit by a blast

Of scorching hot wind, choking and fast.

Through burned stinging eyes, we see just above,

The Normandy swoop like a great silver dove

Down through the dust and the smoke and the ash

Towards the slow spreading streams of earth’s blood that splash

Over the melting bones of the land

As the Mountain rumbles and coughs where it stands.

Before us she drops, her bay doors flung wide.

We sprint down the slope, and leap the divide.

The doors crash behind us. We breathe the cool air

As the Normandy bears us away from the flare.

~ Stanza 10 · In the Comm-room ~

The com-room is quiet, fresh, and clean.

Soft is the light from the circular walls

Silent the circle on which the light falls

Myself, T’Soni, and the two fire-teams.

I start to speak, but Joker’s wry tones

Come over the coms, in a sarcastic groan.

‘So, maybe, Commander, for next time, ya’know

Don’t have us land in an active volcano.

They tend to fry sensors, and sometimes melt hulls.

We almost went swimming like hot lava gull.’

Liara looks up as Joker’s tongue runs.

‘We nearly died and he’s making fun?’’

‘It’s a joke, he copes with stress that way.’

‘Oh. I see. I’ll get it someday.’

Williams gives me her mission report.

Her team hunted Geth up and down the old fort.

Urdnot Wrex, the biotic Krogan

Mistakenly calls his canon a shotgun.

In his wake a beeline of havoc burned

Structures fell and trucks overturned

The Geth he blasted from his path

Were trampled down in the crush of his wrath.

But little Tali, the Quarian girl,

With her clever fingers and purple swirls?

Way down low behind the lines

Out of sight and out of mind

Using mostly her omnitool

She hacked, overloaded, and the battlefield ruled.

Together they cleared posts near several stopes.

Williams’ tone is no-nonsense. Her tale fills my hopes.

I’d intended that they would do naught but search.

But they saw battle and she made it work.

The Asari researcher quietly sits

Watching us speak, her mild gaze flits

From one face to another, like a shy child

Though she’s held her own alone in the wild.

When I turn to her, she sits straight and replies

Looking up with her round, intense blue eyes.

~ Stanza 11 · The Archaeologist’s Tale ~

I explain the matter, the little we know

And ask of her mother allied with our foe.

‘No I don’t know if my mother is near.

We haven’t spoken in over a year.’

‘A year? Why so long? Did you two fall-out?’

‘Oh no. We’ve been busy, both travelling about.

I knew she was serving as Saren’s advisor

But I gave it no thought til I heard he turned traitor.

his only I know, the woman I knew

Would have never conspired, or consented to

An act such as that done on Eden Prime

No matter the goals or the passing of time.

I can only hope now, from where I stand

That she first went to hold back his hand

And draw him along to a gentler path

She’s done it before. I’ve seen it. She has.’

‘And what of this Conduit they’re searching for?

How does it connect to the Prothean’s war?’

‘I’ve never heard of the Conduit.

But, Commander, I can tell you this,

The Council is wrong, the Geth unit right.

The Protheans saw that terrible fight.

Something destroyed them. They didn’t decline.

This matches with everything I can find.

It’s said they just fell, as Empires do.

But I could find naught to attribute it to.

They didn’t destroy their resource base.

They had for their use everything found in space.

And their order, their structure, was maintained late

It didn’t fall to a slow, crumbling fate

Of corruption and layers of cancerous growth

Of disjointed complexities and broken troth.

It was cut off of a sudden. Still in its prime.

And all in a very, very short time.

And – here’s the thing – they were not the first,

They were not the only to be thus curst.

Such civilizations have risen before

Though they come barely into our lore.

The Protheans killed them? No. Not at all.

Though that is the reason most thought for their fall.

The dates are not right. It doesn’t add up.

If they had, they would interrupt.

But the latest known marks of the elder folk

Were abandoned before the younger awoke.

Almost nothing we know goes back farther in time

But the little I’ve found, suggests it still rhymes.

A cycle of rises and then sudden falls,

Externally forced, not natural.

The record is strange to be so incomplete

Small quiet ruins pop up like wheat…

It’s like someone’s consciously foiling us.

Like somebody wiped the Galaxy bare

And purposely hid the past from us.’

She pauses a moment, inclines her blue head.

I’m young, and my theory hasn’t yet been much read.

And the lack of specific records of this

Have prevented others from suggesting it.’

‘Well, just how young are you?’ I ask the young lady.

I know spans are longer among the Asari.

She blushes and takes a deep breath ere she speaks.

‘I’m only one-hundred-two years and eight weeks.’

‘Damn!’

Williams interjects, blithely amazed.

‘I hope that I look that good at your age.’

‘Among the Asari I’m counted quite young.

A child almost, a girl barely sprung.

But, Commander, this is what alarms me.

If I see truly what I think I see,

If this is a cycle, as it appears,

Predictable over an average of years

Then within my life-time the next wheel is due

And we will fall. If the pattern holds true.’

Nobody moves and no one replies.

The sights of the beacon swim in my eyes.

‘Commander,’ Liara looks up to me.

‘I do not know how much use I can be,

I’m not an engineer or a mercenary,

I don’t have the intel, and I am sorry,

But, let me come with you,

I will try to help you,

There’s few who know even the little I know

Of the last cycle spun so long ago.’

She sits, parted lips, hands folded before her,

Like a child facing a group of her elders.

But now that her explanation is oer

She look as though she’ll droop down to the floor.

Her eyelids flutter and trembling blue hands

Rest on unsteady legs still covered in sand.

‘Hey, you don’t look so good, Dr. T’Soni.’

Alenko bends forward, his arm on his knee.

‘How long has it been since you ate? Or slept?’

‘Yes!’ agrees Wrex. ‘You need need food and rest!

Your kind aren’t as hardy as mine.’

(The Krogan is gruff, but I think it’s meant kind.)

‘Maybe you should see the ship’s doctor.’

Alenko recommends to her.

‘I suppose … seeing a medic wouldn’t hurt.’

Liara agrees. She seems to exert.

‘Of course you must, I’ll send someone to guide you.

She gets first check-up, but the rest of you too.

But one more moment, before you all go

Our colony, Zhu’s Hope, on the planet Feros,

As I recall, was built on a ruin

Ancient, alien, and I think Prothean.

Anderson said that they’d seen Geth about.

What might they have done there, what did they find out?

It can’t be coincidence Geth were there too.

They went for the ruins, or I misconstrue.’

‘The towers of Feros!’ Her tired eyes light.

‘I’ve heard, but I haven’t yet gone to that site.’

‘Then come with us now, Doctor! We’ll follow his trail.

What I’ve seen matches far, far too well with your tale.’

Canto 4 ⇒