Chalkos was a hot, richly green and blue garden world, in a perpetual spinning dance with it's barren twin, Selvos. Unlike Selvos, Chalkos had been home to roughly 5,000 people. Today though, each planet had something in common, as roughly half their surface area was either blackened and scorched, or still actively on fire.
Council Spectre Kaidan Alenko stood in the small cockpit that doubled as their pilot's personal quarters and stared out the windows at the devastation below. This was not Earth, he reminded himself, even as his fists clenched reflexively and sweat beaded on his brow. His father's ashes were not among the dead. His mother was not down there to save. The victims down below had all been real people, with rich full lives, but he'd known none of them by name.
Pretending that truth made genocide easier to bear, Kaidan reached down deep and pulled up the emotional walls all his years as a soldier had built, brick by brick. If the reapers hadn't broken him when they were alive, he certainly wouldn't let them do it now that they were dead.
"Joker," he called, sliding into the co-pilot's seat next to his friend. "Let's scan for life signs first, just to be sure."
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As long as one didn't look too closely at this particular stretch of the wards, they might actually be able to pretend the war had never happened. Minimally damaged in the first place, this part of the Citadel had seen the first of the repairs. Four months later, the shops were all open for business, brand new glass in the windows and their wares all on display on rebuilt shelves. The restaurants had actual food in them now; both grown in the restored labs two levels down and shipped in from the few untouched colonies in the Traverse. There were holographic plants pretending to emit oxygen and all the floating repair drones - found here in abundance mere weeks ago - had all moved on to other parts of the station.
Walking down the well lit street, Kaidan shoved a lab grown, but perfectly grilled, hot dog between his teeth and chewed delightedly. The bun was soft, the dog was juicy, and the ketchup had just the right tang. Like his impromptu lunch, some things about this tiny slice of pristine, in an otherwise dark and dingy galaxy, were glorious. He'd been able to order new boots, armor, and serviceable duty uniforms for him and Gabby, as well as buy provisions for the lengthily voyage they were about to embark on. Purchasing supplies like that would have been impossible mere weeks ago before the relays were back online.
On the other hand, a few decks below and above this one, the Citadel still looked like a burnt out husk, with huge gaping holes torn into the hull like mortal wounds. And even in this place of bright, artificial sunlight and fragrant fast food, the healing was only skin deep. The people, the lifeblood of the Citadel, were still broken; shell shocked and weary. They wore tight, forced smiles and walked without making eye contact. Every loud noise made them jump and skitter, as if everything they'd just been given was suddenly going to be snatched away again.
Shaking the dreary thoughts aside, Kaidan swallowed his last few bites of bread and vat grown beef and made his way past a row of shops, towards a terminal where he could call a cab. Shopping done, and having finally received clearance to leave the station in exactly five days, he needed to get home. The Invictus's retrofits were complete, but there was still a long checklist of preparations to be done.
Just about to leave the shopping district behind, a small, elegant display in a window caught his eye. Sparing a moment to indulge his curiosity, Kaidan approached the little shop and peered at the surprising assortment of fine jewelry housed within. A sign propped up behind the sparkling gems, precious metals, and black velvet busts, explained how such a store could still be open. It read: "Family heirlooms appraised and purchased for credits. See shop owner within."
Kaidan didn't have any jewels to sell, never being much for expensive adornments - or any adornments really, beyond his dog tags and the few metals he'd earned in his career. It was nice though, to see that there was some recourse for the people who did, to get some money to feed their families, even if it did mean selling something precious. One couldn't eat memories.
Just about to move on again, Kaidan paused, mid turn on the ball of his foot and inspected a grouping of rings in the bottom left corner of the case. His breath made a little cloud on the glass as he tried to get closer, to confirm what he'd thought he'd seen was real.
A thin, silver toned (maybe, platinum, maybe gold) band, held a princess cut sapphire exactly the same shade as Gabby's eyes. It was held in a tension setting, flush to the metal, with no little spikes to catch on clothing or armor. A heavy ache settled into Kaidan's chest; a sudden longing to purchase it, to keep it in his pocket until just the right moment, when he could surprise the woman he loved. The intensity of this desire shocked him, as did the implication of such an act. Gabby, despite her impeccable strength, and the deep strides they'd made in their relationship of late, was not ready to make that promise. The acknowledgement was rather sobering.
In contrast, Kaidan thought maybe he'd been ready for it since the first night he's spent a few months back in the Normandy SR2. He'd walked back into the Commander's arms and never looked back.
It didn't hurt to go inside and get a closer look though, right? He asked himself. It wasn't like he had to propose today, or even next month, or next year. It never hurt to be prepared, right? Decision made, and steeling his resolve, Kaidan reached for the door handle.
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Emilia looked up from the datapad in her hands, lips in a tight thin line. Two years, yet it seemed like an eternity had changed her. Scars on her face, hair chopped short.