Air on Tuchanka was hot, dry and acrid, leaving awful, pungent taste in Shepard's mouth even though all the filters in her helmet kicked in before she even left the shuttle. According to her armor's reading she could easily breathe on the planet, but she'd rather not test the Normandy's anti-radiological cleansing set. She managed not to look at Tali or Garrus: doubt she preferred not to offer. Not to them, not after weeks like that.
"Charming planet," Garrus said, seemingly unaware of all the glares he was getting. "Do you think they have a tourist shop somewhere? I just need to get a fridge magnet."
She gave a chuckle and finally moved forward, ready to push, kick and threaten anybody in her way, as was the normal way of commuting on Tuchanka, where hierarchy was settled on the spot. She ignored a scared asari-asari?-as well as a growling mercenary recruiter, and she tried to ignore a bulky krogan blocking their access to some actual buildings.
"You're Shepard," he said with honest, unmasked disgust. "The clan leader is expecting you."
"Really? Jeez, I had no idea. You know, after we got cleared to land I thought-"
"No sightseeing. No lurking around. You go straight to Wrex."
She wanted to say something-something snarky enough to repay him for cutting her off-but all the energy suddenly left her. Meekly, she nodded and rushed forward, past heavy door and piles of rubbles, into a corridor that looked like it never fully recovered from some heavy explosion blast. Krogan were everywhere, usually restless and intimidating, but rarely... well, moving anywhere. They just stood in the dusty corners or along the walls, talking to each other in low, rumbling voices. Something in all this-and she really didn't know where this absurd thought came from-reminded her of Earth. Of the gigantic megapoli which suffered most from overpopulation, like Rio de Janeiro or Beijing. She'd visited them once or twice and now the krogan reminded her of the people there. They had the same kind of unfocused energy that so easily turned to aggression. The "what are you looking at" pose. The readiness to break the wait somehow, anyhow, just do anything to fend off boredom.
But this wasn't Earth and krogan certainly did not suffer from overpopulation.
Wrex was indeed expecting them. She watched as the ragged, brutish ex-merc she once knew gave a throaty growl, basically charged through his unsuspecting guests and moved right past Shepard's outstretched arms.
"Look who finally came to visit," Wrex said with a hint of laughter in his voice. "My favourite quarian's still alive and kicking."
Shepard finally managed to lower her cordially open arms.
"Glad you're not disappointed, Wrex," Tali responded. "And that you actually had doubts about that 'alive' part."
"You quarians are so fragile," Wrex shrugged. "Take Shepard, for instance. It was what, two standard months since she came back and I've already heard about a prize on her head." Wrex finally turned around and eyed Shepard with much more scrutiny than she'd expected. "And she got spaced."
"What can I say. I'm worse than cockroaches."
"But I see you managed to get the turian dented. You can't get your money back if you had it broken."
"I missed you too, Wrex."
They followed him through a crowd of waiting krogan, some of them visibly disgruntled or curious. They climbed a heap of rubble, broken rods, and concrete dust, up to the only place on this forsaken planet that was lit by actual sunlight.
"You gotta be kidding me," Garrus said, amusement mixed with disbelief in his voice. "You got a throne now?"
"Sure I do. Can't run this place without a proper office." Wrex sat down and suddenly Shepard understood exactly who was their host. Not the same aimless warrior who had been hanging around her ship seemingly because he was offered no better option. It was different. Things changed every-fucking-where and everybody she's met just reminded her of this little fact. True, Garrus' presence on Omega, of all places, merely surprised her, but Tali led her own missions now. Wrex was uniting krogan even though the last time they were talking about Tuchanka he had nothing but contempt for this place. And there was Ashley. And Liara.
Something cold and bitter, something that had nothing to do with Tuchanka's air, clawed at her throat.
She looked at the leader of all krogan. If there was some reassuring picture of strength, it was him.
"You know, I intend to stay here for a couple of days," she said. "Got a free evening?"
"So," Wrex rumbled when Tali and Garrus were suitably passed out, Tali's helmeted head on Vakarian's uneven shoulder. Quarian's envirosuit didn't mute her drunken snoring. From above her own cloud of alcoholic trance, Shepard found this hilarious. "You ready to talk?"
"She sounds like a volus."
"Shepard."
"I should record this." Not without trouble, Shepard activated her omnitool and tried to enter the camera mode. Instead, her fingers slipped and the bright orange holo on her hand roared with distorted music Shepard didn't remember saving.
"Shepard."
"Wrex."
They were sitting in quarters that apparantly qualified as "luxurious" by the Tuchanka's standards. Empty bottles of all shapes and sizes lay on the floor that wasn't cracked, dirty or blasted open to the room below. There were no windows and barely any furniture, but Shepard didn't mind. They abandoned uncomfortable, definitely too big chairs in favour of cold concrete long time ago. Somewhen between Tali's first disagreement with gravity and Garrus' impersonating Mordin.
"Since when did you get so touchy-feely, Wrex?" Shepard stretched her legs. Pieces of her armor lay discarded among bottles because prolonged sitting in the damn thing was a nightmare. After all, her HUD claimed she could breathe on Tuchanka and who she was to argue with the tech.
"I intend to get you drunk afterwards so you won't remember anything."
"That won't work."
"I heard you say that a few times before, yeah."
"Seriously, though. I can't get drunk. Not for long, anyway. I can't get poisoned and, ah, I need a triple dose of everything. I woke up on a operating table once."
Wrex sat silent.
"I guess," Shepard said bitterly "they couldn't make me work without a few upgrades here and there."
"I suppose you can't ditch them. Cerberus, I mean. Not the upgrades."
"You suppose right. I hate it, Wrex," she burst and that surprised even her. Once again she was on board Normandy, the real Normandy, down in the dark, chilly cargo bay, talking and joking, and socializing, free and unchained, unrestricted, limitless. "I hate it with my every conscious thought, I wake up and just want to throw up. My ship is bugged, my XO is a fucking spy, and there are strings attached to everything. I am a rat in a fucking maze, Wrex, I don't choose direction anymore and they pretend I do."
"You're alive. That counts for something. You could set this bitch ablaze and be gone. Solve the problem with the Alliance. You're their postergirl, are you not?"
"Alliance won't help. Besides, Joker and Chakwas are on board and I can't just ditch them."
"I don't follow, Shepard."
"Oh, you know, Cerberus brought them. For me. To sell their ship. To 'make me feel at home'. Or safe. Or something. I don't know. But with Lawson and Taylor and all that Cerberus staff they are effectively hostages."
Silence fell between them, heavy and choking, and Shepard felt the first prickling symptoms of sobriety. Wrex's gaze stayed fixed on her but the clan leader didn't speak.
"I saw Ash."
Wrex nodded.
"It didn't go well. We were set up, both of us, by Cerberus and Alliance, to meet there and then, and I couldn't explain it to her. I didn't know how."
She was on Tuchanka in Wrex's regal office, and she was on Horizon again, with sweet taste of victory turning sour in her mouth as Ashley's accusatory stare drilled holes in her forehead. Williams was brave, loyal, outspoken and straightforward. She had all the traits Shepard had always valued, all the traits she always thought they had in common, and then she saw the contempt in Ash's brown eyes.
Not hate, not surprise, not even rage. Contempt.
And she couldn't blame her.
On Horizon, under Williams' accusatory glare, Shepard couldn't even talk sense. Rationalize. Call up on all those logical arguments she talked herself to sleep.
In truth, she didn't even try to convince Williams. One of them had to stay unadulterated. An Alliance soldier. A hero. Not a fucking traitor.
"You're such a whiner, Shepard."
She sighed, back in reality. The floor was shaking a little and it took her a while to understand that Wrex was laughing silently.
"Yeah, I know."
"You're not helpless. You've got krantt, you've got resources. Go do some damage."
"I intend to. Wanna come with me?"
"Have you seen what I'm trying to do here or were you just sleepwalking all the way from your shiny shuttle? I wish I could do your dirty work once more, but that at least has to wait."
"Sooo... You're giving me a definite maybe?"
"You're trying to be smart and that has never worked for you."
That may have referred to several issues. Shepard decided not to dig deeper and just take all the support Wrex was willing to give. She wasn't looking at the krogan when he threw her something; she caught it in the last moment, thanks to military reflexes that Lawson somehow managed to reconstruct in her cold lab somewhere far from all the prying eyes.
"Ryncol," Wrex explained. "Let's see if your Cerberus anti-alcohol implant can withstand a good, old-fashioned, brutal charge."
Shepard unscrewed the bottle. Whatever hit her nostrils was definitely able to dissolve wall paint. Suddenly, she felt much better about the coming morning.
"I knew I could count on you, Wrex."
"Shepard."
They drank.