Begining of Story Notes
1. You will likely recognize things I've pulled from other people's mind canon, and bastardized to work in this world. I've gotten permission for almost everything. As some didn't ever reply to my messages I can't say all but... everyone who did answer thus far was pleased to share, and credit is always given for usage.
2. This is a very young Nihlus, very different from his older self. Don't worry, he'll grow closer to the Nihlus in canon by the time ME1 hits. Don't take the OOC bat of shame to me just yet. ;D
3. You all can blame this story on the works of authors like Smehur, AceQueenKing, MizDirected, Recidiva, Fistful_of_Gamma_Rays, MosiacCream, Velasa, 11_Gadget_27, ninalanfer, ba_rabby, and, hell, so many others. Their words dragged me kicking and screaming into love with these characters, and now I've got wild head canons and heart strings tied off onto plates.
4. *VERY IMPORTANT* This story includes several chapters with YouTube links and snippets of song lyrics that are relevant to the chapter. This is A-OKAY with the terms of service as far as I can tell, oki doki? I link to the artist's official YouTube channel where possible, and snippets of lyics are okay, just not full songs. Please don't give me grief by reporting these bits instead of talking to me, as I've known fellow authors to have odd issues with story deletion without a proper chance to correct or challenge TOS reports. Danke.
5. This is a trimmed down cross posting for my main story on Archive of Our Own, aka Ao3. The latest chapters all go up there first, and the full explicit scenes, both violent and sexual, are ONLY up over there. ffdotnet doesn't allow me to post that stuff. Also, over on Ao3 the chapter soundtracks and fanfic recommendations are all links instead of plain text, because I'm not fighting with this site to hyper link stuff. I love both sites, but you'll only find the full experience over there.
6. Have an issue? A personal comment? I'm always happy to hear you from you guys. Email me at kuraiummei at gmail dot com if you'd like to chit chat. 3
Without further ado, Tallyho!
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Chapter Notes
Lexicon:
Mari/Pari - Turian closed dialect for mother/father (credit: MizDirected)
Torin/Tarin - male/female adult Turian (credit: MizDirected)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
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Garrus shook his head slowly, mandibles splayed outward with one cocked higher in a wild grin, vicarious glee and bone-deep relief competing for first place in his mind. The article brought up on his work terminal was hemmed in on all sides with news links and advertisements, but he had no eyes for anything but the great... no, magnificent story unfolding before him.
A crime ring, based on Talos IV, -a pit of slime but not usually blatant villainy-, slave labor, tainted Hallex, and connections to drug dealers on 5 planets, 2 lunar colonies, and the Citadel itself. All of it now gone. Wiped out from the roots up.
He let out a trilling laugh, relieved beyond words.
Garrus had known that the slimy Krogan dealer named Menir had been selling tainted Hallex to idiot kids wanting an extra kick to their club going, but since his evidence had been obtained without permission to investigate, or -ahah...- a warrant, it was dismissed.
Dis-spirit's damned-missed.
His superiors had declined even launching a proper investigation to follow up on the obvious lead. The silver-grey torin suspected it was meant as a punishment to him specifically. Except...18 young people had been rushed to Zakera Ward's primary hospital since that dismissal, brain damaged for life.
Garrus shook his head again, this time to shake off the feelings of failure and frustration having witnessed those young lives ruined because of a single careless choice that should have just resulted in a headache and dehydration.
Red tape had gotten in the way, again.
But for right now? That didn't matter, because the ring had been obliterated by Saren Arterius. He scrolled up to reread his favorite bit: the description of the ragged remains of the slaver compound that had been providing the poor quality street drug. Slaves freed, slavers dead, and small mountains of Hallex being incinerated by the bucket full.
Leaning back in his chair, he decided that even if his pari had blocked his entry into the Spectre program, that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate his might-have-been colleague's exploits. In a moment of secret rebellion, riding on the high of second-hand victory, he also decided that Arterius was his new personal hero.
The Spectre did good work.
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"Feet. Off. The Console." Saren ground out through a clenched jaw, striding into the small CIC of his ship. Nihlus looked up at him with perhaps the worst attempt at puppy eyes by any Turian, ever. Silence filled the room as his former protégé made increasingly ridiculous attempts at begging with his eyes to leave to his tired feet kicked up on the console.
Saren stood firm, glaring.
Eventually the stale mate was broken, and dark brown feet moved to the floor with a beleaguered sigh, defeat expected after having lost the exact same battle countless times. Saren was naturally fastidious, and would not put up with that sort of behavior, not even when they were on Nihlus' own ship.
Saren continued to stand there, tense and glaring at nothing in particular.
"What's wrong?"
Saren let out a quiet huff of breath, and sat down at a nearby terminal, arms crossed. "Our mission here may have been accomplished, but it was unaccountably disorganized. The intel was poor, but that is no excuse."
Nihlus nodded thoughtfully, there really wasn't any other way to put it. The mission had been a success. All criminals dead, all Spectres alive. Though Jondum was passed out in medbay at the moment with a few bullet holes in his torso, the automated medi-bot doctor having sedated and stabilized his vitals. Nihlus estimated over a hundred dead Blood Pack between the three of them. That was good work, really, and all he had to show for it was sore feet and a burn down his left arm from a crafty vorcha with incendiary ammo. Saren himself was, -per usual-, mildly dusty, mildly disgruntled, and... that was about it.
Good work, even if it had been messy.
"True, and it might have been easier with Tela or Riaz along, but we got the job done."
Saren continued to stare off into space, likely re-re-rethinking every decision and choice that led to the mission being more impromptu and less planned attack with scalpel sharp efficiency. Saren could wing it with the best of them, but he preferred quick and heavy tactical strikes. Minimum risk and effort, maximum effect. At least his glare had eased off. Nihlus smiled wistfully at his thoroughly preoccupied colleague. At this point he just found the grumpiness and perfectionism endearing.
"Let's head back to the citadel, report in, and take a week or two of down time, yeah?"
Saren raised his eyes to Nihlus', the ridge of his brow lifting incredulously.
"Okay, one week of down time?"
It really was unnerving sometimes how perfectly unmoving and still Saren could be.
"... Four days?"
"..." Not to mention that electric but steady stare.
"Three days?"
The silence went back and forth for several moments, before Saren was the one to give.
"Two days." Was all he said, striding over to the pilot's console suite and setting course. Nihlus' smile turned cock-sure and pleased. Getting Saren to take two days of down time was a miracle.
He looked down at the mottled, medi-gel slathered hide of his burned arm. Entirely worth it.
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Following the news report that had lifted the weight from his shoulders, Garrus developed a system.
Every time one of his cases fell through because of bureaucracy, he would add fifty credits to a chit he keeps in a kitchen drawer. When news hit that the Spectres in general or Arterius specifically blew up/shot down/ended however some new criminal enterprise he nabs his secret kitchen chit, his Viper, and goes out for a night of wish fulfillment.
If there are enough credits, he buys upgrades for his rifle, installs them, and fine tunes it at the range. Each head shot imagined as the monsters that constantly slip through his talons, and when those run dry, the monsters that are now dead thanks to one Saren Arterius. Hell, some nights there were so many credits he took shots for the recent estimated kill counts of every person in ST&R.
If not many credits built up he instead goes out for a drink, looking to relax and starting the night in an excellent mood. Carrying a near empty chit always meant that something, somewhere was going right, and if he follows someone home that night? All the better, since he knows it'll put him in a great mood for his next bound-to-be-painfully-time-wasting shift.
If the ones he charms often have white-silver plates, that's merely a coincidence.
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Chapter End Notes
Fanfic Recommendation: An Anniversary Dinner (3011 words) by AceQueenKing (Nihlus/Saren)
