Hell(by most humble me which shall increase)

open thy fire!

for i have had some bliss

of one small lady upon earth above;

to whom i cry remembering her face

i have never loved you dear as

now i love

Excerpt from a clowns smirk in the skull of a baboon, ee cummings

IV

Some Bliss

She hit the deck running the moment the shuttle settled in the Normandy's cargo bay. Stripped of her armor, she donned her SR-2 uniform. The Alliance blues hung in the corner of her closet, neglected. She still had trouble seeing herself wearing the uniform of the people who incarcerated her, ignored her warnings, stripped her of her rank, and reinstated it without a fuss. Chakwas laughed when Shepard popped into the medbay to see how she was settling in. "We match, Commander!" she said with a knowing look in her eyes.

After vid conferences with the asari councilor and Admiral Hackett, Shepard leaned heavily against the comm controls, taking deep, steadying breaths. As part of Victus' agreement to leave Menae and help chair the summit, he wanted a krogan-turian alliance. The asari were sitting this round out, of course, and the salarian dalatrass…was a bitch. Plain and simple. Shepard ran a gloved hand over her face. She hadn't slept since leaving Earth. Almost fourty-two hours non-stop, including active combat. She groaned and made her way into the war room.

Victus was watching the vid screen in front of him with such intensity, he didn't look up until she cleared her throat to announce her presence. If she hadn't been so attuned to turian body language, she may have thought he was annoyed with her. Instead, she could tell he was studying her, watching the minute changes she made in her stature as they sized each other up.

Victus was striking, as far as turians went. Dark plates, white markings and piercing orange eyes, he was even taller than Garrus, though not as muscular across his shoulders and cowl. He had a graceful and calming manner about him when out of armor. They stood in silence for several moments before he broke the quiet.

"Commander, I want to thank you for allowing me the use of your ship. And for going along with this plan." Without the background noise of active combat, Victus was soft spoken and relaxed, a slightly less intimidating force. He gave her a warm smile. "Garrus said he had to attend to the Normandy's weapons systems. Something about…calibrations."

Shepard smiled. In her hurry to respond to the many messages and vid comm requests she had queued up upon their return, they hadn't had a chance for a private moment. Garrus understood. It was her job as commander to make sure her ship and her crew was running seamlessly. He was bunked down in the main battery, mainly for appearances. She had already planned on bringing his scant belongings up to her quarters. "That sounds like Garrus." She sighed, and pulled her braid over her shoulder, twisting the ends between her thumb and forefinger. "I'm sorry to say the asari councilor won't be joining our summit. She believes there's too much bad blood with the krogan."

Victus leaned his weight onto one hip, tapping a finger against his mouth. "She may be right. But there will be a lot more blood – real blood – if we don't try."

"Well, when you put it that way…" Her voice trailed off and she sighed. "I'm sorry you had to leave Menae. Leaving Earth to save it? It wasn't an easy decision for me, either."

He lifted his chin, eyes searching hers. "I'm not surprised. Garrus speaks very highly of you." He stepped closer, hands behind his back. "You never asked to be a leader, and yet your people would die if you refused. We find ourselves in similar circumstances. Let's hope the spirits give us the strength to see it through."

We need more than that. She gritted her teeth, balling her fists at her sides. "Our people are dying. We all have differences, but we all are mortal. And instead of being untied by our mortality, we hold on to grudges that have been passed down for hundreds of years." She sighed, and shook her head. "Our people fought each other less than a generation ago. Yet you and I stand before each other, as allies. Why is it so easy for us? Were the deaths not the same? Was life extinguished and not returned? I've walked through death, and I came back. I know what lies beyond the mortal world. To say it doesn't terrify me would be a lie. But I would gladly lay my life down not only for my people, but for the entire galaxy."

Victus studied her for a moment, letting the silence stretch tight between them. When he finally spoke, his voice was laced heavily with subvocals. "There are legends that my people have, of individuals being reincarnated in the form of certain spirits. Several times in my life I have stumbled across these...pentrale. Shepard, you stand before me, and I do not see a human. I see a warrior spirit, dressed in mortal flesh." His mandibles flared in amusement. "And quite a large part of me believes you may have been turian in another life."

Shepard stared for a moment, searching his face for any sign of mirth. When she found none, she smiled. "You're not the first person to tell me that, Primarch. I have heard many times from Garrus that I was born the wrong species."

Victus flared his mandibles wide, bemused. "I do not believe he would care for you as much as he does if you were turian."

She quirked an eyebrow and he grinned.

"I fought alongside your mate for months, Commander. We turians are inquisitive individuals when it comes to our comrades. While the information was not given up freely, I hope you know you can trust my discrepancy."

"They would have used him to get to me," she whispered, hanging her head. "They still could." She plucked at her ship suit, frowning. "I can't even bear to wear the uniform of my military, after the injustices they have shown me. Their negligence and naivety cost humanity billions of lives. We may win this war, but I will never be what the Alliance wants me to be. Not anymore. And until this is over, they can't know. I've already put him in enough danger, just by associating with me."

Victus touched her shoulder gently, a surprisingly human gesture. "You have my support, Shepard. Garrus has become a good friend."

"Thank you, Primarch. That means more to me than you know."

He squeezed her shoulder before dropping his arm, a smile on his face. "Please, Shepard, call me Adrien. Or Victus. I'm…not sure I'm used to the title yet."

"I think I can do that, Victus. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to see a man about some calibrations."

His deep laugh followed her out of the room, warming her chest.

Garrus ran a hand over his face in frustration, the smell of Menae and battle still sharp on his skin. The Alliance retrofit had greatly improved both the battery and the Thanix, but had also negated any work he had done to the cannons previously. He was pulling several wires out of a panel when the lights began to flicker on and off. Power fluctuations? He thought, and watched as several wires sparked. He felt the hum of the FTL drive suddenly die - bracing himself as the inertial dampeners struggled to catch up. As quickly as it happened, he felt the tell-tale drone of the engines kick back on, and he shook his head. Joker must have pushed the wrong button, he thought, chuckling under his breath. Watching too much porn, probably.

He grunted and pried open an access panel, kneeling down to get a closer look and run diagnostics with his omnitool. The wires were a tragic mess. He would have to ask Shepard who was in charge of the Thanix retrofit...and perhaps use turian intimidation to demand answers from those responsible.

"Vakarian?" Victus' voice came over room-wide comm.

The primarch sounded amused. Garrus twisted two wires apart and jumped to avoid the shower of sparks. "Something you need, Primarch?"

"Cut the shit, Garrus. It's just Victus to you." There was a pregnant pause. "I just had an interesting conversation with your mate."

Garrus raised his head abruptly, knocking it on the metal of the panel opening. He hissed in pain as stars danced in front of his eyes, laying a hand on the sore spot to check for blood. "Remember that conversation we had about it not being public knowledge?"

Victus chuckled warmly. "I've already swept for bugs, Garrus. And I know you've done the same."

Garrus rolled his eyes. The primarch was correct; the first thing he had done upon settling back in the battery was run a scan for any hidden surveillance nodes. None were found, but old habits died hard.

"She's every bit as intriguing as I expected," Victus continued. "Perhaps even more so. You didn't mention she was pentrale."

Garrus paused. The thought had crossed his mind several times. The first being in the warm afterglow of Saren's defeat, as they stood among the wreckage of the Presidum and cheered, the swirl of smoke and fire surrounding her in her battle glory. The second time had been her crossing the bridge on Omega, like an apparition from his dreams, stealing his deathwish from him with just a single glance. The third had been after they limped back through the Omega 4 relay. She had dragged him up to her quarters, still covered in battle grime, and they had taken each other until he was sure their spirits touched. "I'm not sure that's something one broadcasts among humans. They don't seem to comprehend it as well as turians do."

"She seemed to take it just find when I mentioned it to her."

Garrus covered his eyes with a hand and groaned. "I'm going to pull every single one of your teeth out, Victus."

Adrien chuckled. "Now now, Vakarian. Threatening your primarch is considered treason."

"Surely you didn't take time out of your busy schedule just to tell me you've been harassing my mate."

"No. I didn't." Victus' voice sounded colder, harder. "Now with more reliable means of communication, I've been able to study the reports coming back from Palaven." His voice dropped, all hard vowels and sharp edges, subvocals laced with pain. "It's…spirits Garrus. It's not good. And we prepared."

"We may have had preparation, but we're up against the ultimate enemy. However, we had the forewarning, and we have the potential for victory." He sighed and began soldering several wires back to their proper places within the guts of the Thanix. "Our only chance of winning is standing together."

He heard the soft hiss of the battery door open, but didn't need to raise his head to know it was Shepard. Her scent filled the room. The sudden increase of his heart rate made the blood pound in his ears, almost drowning out Victus' voice.

"We've lost two of our dreadnaughts in a matter of hours."

Garrus pulled his mandibles tight to his face and sighed. "I know, Adrien. I'm seeing the same numbers."

"We need to turn things around, and fast."

"You can trust Shepard. If anyone can get the krogan to cooperate, it's her. She's an old friend of Urdnot Wrex."

"Let's hope friendship still stands for something in this war." The comm disconnected, and the room grew quiet.

Light footsteps on decking. He turned and straightened, mindful of his head this time. She was teetering on the balls of her feet, paused at the top of the stairs. Clad in an SR-2 uniform, she looked every bit the commander she was. Her clean scent told him she had showered, but the paint was still present. Her hair was longer, in its usual braid down her back. The left side had been shaved to the skin, and he could see a row of healing sutures running along her scalp. Her eyes met his, and they moved towards each other simultaneously. His armor made it difficult for him to press her close, but he lifted her up, encasing her in his arm. Her head found the crook of his shoulder, and her arms wrapped around neck.

"Ahyoka," he breathed, inhaling her scent, letting the memories flood back. "Spirits, I thought I had lost you again."

She raised her head to look at him, pressing her forehead against his. "When I heard about Palaven…"

He leaned back against a bulkhead and slid down, settling her in his lap. Her eyes were weary and tired. "I didn't hear about Earth until days after the attack on Alliance HQ. And with our comms down, and nothing getting in or out of the Sol System…It was almost like the SR-1 destruction all over again."

She tucked a gloved hand between his scarred mandible and cheek. "I don't have much time right now, and I would rather not dwell on the fact that we both thought the other was dead."

He growled, low in his throat. "When are you going to sleep, Shepard? You're not a mech."

"Soon. Right now, I want to ask you just how much our primarch knows in regards to the private lives of his…citizens."

Garrus rolled his eyes to the ceiling and cleared his throat nervously. "He uh…ehem. He accosted me about a certain mark…"

She slapped a hand to her face and groaned. "Is every turian this insufferable? I'm trying to keep you as safe as I can." Her mouth pulled down at the edges. "I love you. I know we can trust Victus. Especially if you say we can."

"We can."

She sighed and rested her head against his neck, letting him bury his face in her hair. "I can't do this without you, Garrus."

He pulled the side of her uniform collar down, cursing the high cut of it, and exposed the bare skin of her neck. She gasped as he ghosted his mouth over her throat. "Of course you could," he said huskily. "Just not as stylishly, of course." He punctuated his statement with a light nip.

"If you keep doing that, I won't get…oh…get anything done...and I have a…war summit to attend."

Six months of separation and months of active combat made it nearly impossible for him to let her go. But, duty called. He stood, his arms still wrapped around her, and set her down gently. "If anyone can pull this off, it's you."

She rested her hands on his forearms and smiled up at him. "I'll try my hardest."

He nudged her forehead with his. "Go. Make history. I'll be right here, calibrating things."

In retrospect, Shepard was glad she had opted to not wash off her war paint. Stepping into the conference room was like taking a plunge in a cold pool, the atmosphere almost palpable. The salarian Dalatrass was already shouting at Wrex; Shepard gave the big krogan and pat on the shoulder as she passed him.

"The krogan is in no position to make demands!" the dalatrass spat in her reedy voice. Shepard heard Wrex' low growl.

"The 'krogan' has a name," he rumbled, red eyes narrowing. "Urdnot Wrex. And I'm not just some junkyard varren you unleash whenever you're in trouble." He looked at Shepard, and she gave him a nod to continue. "I've got my own problems. Reaper scouts have landed on Tuchanka." Wrex leveled a look at Victus. "So why should I care if a few turians go extinct?"

Shepard's gut twisted at the information. If the reapers had made it all the way out to the Krogan DMZ, their reach was farther than originally thought. And they were moving fast.

The primarch gave Wrex a look one would give a petulant child. "Drawing out negotiations will get you nowhere, Wrex. I have no time for it. Just tell us what you want."

"I'll tell you what I need." The krogan leaned his bulky frame against the table, staring at each of them in turn. There was a pause, filled with the drone of the Normandy's engines. Wrex narrowed his eyes and pulled his lips back in a sneer. "A cure for the genophage."

Predictably, the dalatrass threw her hands up in the air. "Absolutely not! The genophage is non-negotiable."

Shepard ground her teeth together. The salarians had played god with the krogan for over a millennia. She'd expected this request from Wrex - they had discussed it before in the presence of Mordin. She calmed her inner turmoil, but her voice still sounded like quiet fury. "Why are you so opposed to the idea, Dalatrass?"

"Because my people uplifted the krogan," she responded haughtily. "We know them best."

"You mean you used us!" Wrex countered. "To fight a war you couldn't win. It wasn't the salarians, or the asari, or even the turians that stopped the rachni. It was krogan blood that turned the tide."

"And after that you ceased to be useful. The genophage was the only way to keep your…urges…in check." She said the last sentence in the manner one would discuss bowel movements in public - the disgust in her large, watery eyes present even through the shadow of her hood.

Shepard could hear Wrex grinding his teeth, and she met Victus' eye from across the table. The primarch had been quietly assessing the debate. Shepard already knew he would side with Wrex - the turians needed the krogan just as badly as the human did. Though she was still unfamiliar with him, his body language was clear enough. He gave her an almost invisible nod, and turned towards the salarian. "Dalatrass, you may not like him, but Wrex is right. Insulting him won't change that."

"I won't apologize for speaking the truth! We uplifted the krogan to do one thing: wage war. It's all they know because it's all we wanted them to know."

Mordin's voice filled her head. Genophage perhaps the correct thing to do at the time. Now? Perhaps not. Times change. Needs change.

"Your people should have thought the matter through, then. Was it really a surprise the krogan revolted?"

"That's precisely my point, Commander. We made a rash decision. We turned to the krogan in desperation. It's the same mistake you're about to make today. No good can come from curing the genophage."

Wrex made to retort, but Shepard held up her hand. "The krogan have paid for their mistakes. The genophage has gone on long enough."

"One thousand, four hundred and seventy-six years, if you're keeping track." Wrex's clawed fingers clutched at the edge of the table, leaving deep gouges in the wood.

"It was one thousand years of peace from these…brutes!" the dalatrass spat back.

"Enough!" Victus yelled. Shepard had never heard the turian raise his voice, and she snapped her head up to stare at him, her spine tightening. His voice, trained to carry over a battlefield, rang off the walls. "Whether or not they deserve a cure is academic. It would take years to formulate one."

"My information says otherwise," Wrex growled. He strode to the head of the table and stepped in front of Victus, pulling up a holo. Grainy footage, taken from a camera hidden somewhere on someone. Judging by the quick movements, Shepard guessed it to be a salarian. "A salarian scientist, Maelon, grew a conscience. He was on my planet testing a cure for our females."

Shepard frowned. "I remember him. His methods were barbaric."

"But what you didn't know, is that other females survived his experiments. So the dalatrass here, sent in a team to clean up the whole mess – and to take them prisoner."

Shadowy forms were appearing on the vid; the hulking forms of what Shepard knew to be krogan, standing in large tubes.

"Where did you get this?" the dalatrass shrieked. "It could be a fabrication!"

Shepard felt the atmosphere in the room thicken until it was almost tangible. Wrex slammed his fists on the table. "Don't insult me! Those are my people! They're immune to the genophage, and you're going to give them back!"

"Dalatrass, is this true?" Victus stepped up next to Wrex, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"How will curing the genophage benefit my people?" she retorted.

Sometimes, Shepard thought back to how simpler her life had been when she was just an Alliance marine. You got your orders, you shot things, you had shore leave, got drunk, and did it all over again.

"How long do you think you'll last alone against the reapers?" Shepard said quietly. Out of the corner of her eye, Victus narrowed his eyes in agreement. "I see the recognition on your face, Dalatrass. But this isn't the Rachni Wars. There are machines harvesting our people and turning them into fodder and shock troops. They are intent on wiping out every sapient species in the known galaxy. Do you think the reapers care if someone is salarian? At the end of the day, without the krogan, we're all dead."

Victus was at her side, nodding. "And I'll be the last friendly turian you'll ever see."

The dalatrass lowered her head in her hands. "The females are being kept at an STG base on Sur'Kesh." Shepard opened up the room comm so Joker could hear and began plotting a course. The salarian stepped forward, pointing a finger at her. "But I warn you, Commander. The consequences of this will be felt for centuries to come!"

"Stop." Shepard stepped forward, staring hard at the salarian female. "You seem to speak so surely of something that happened so long ago, Dalatrass. A thousand years is twenty-five generations of salarians. For some krogan, it's only been one. I can tell you are approaching the end of your life, and you're only a few years older than me. Victus and I here? We still have a good eighty or ninety years left. Wrex? Hundreds. And when you're dead, and the next dalatrass steps up to take your place, she'll look at the devastation caused by the reapers, and she'll look to the krogan that helped protect your home world, and she'll smile."

The room was deathly quiet. Shepard's gaze didn't leave the dalatrass', but she could feel Wrex and Victus standing behind her. Boldened, she continued. "You claim to have so much knowledge of the krogan. If you did, then you would know Wrex is attempting to unite the clans on Tuchanka, to get them to stop fighting each other and rally together to help rebuild. You take away the devastation the genophage has caused, and there will be no more need for the krogan to kill each other over a fertile female. The new generations can be taught, can be educated. I promised Wrex that after this war is over, I'll send as many resources as I can to help build hospitals and schools. That's how you control a population. With education, and the chance to live a happy life."

The dalatrass blinked slowly, stunned. Wrex growled and slapped a hand on Shepard's back, almost buckling her knees. "Let's go get the females."

"You're not setting foot on Sur'Kesh! This will take time to-"

Victus snapped his teeth together and growled. "It happens now!" He gestured to the commander. "As a Council Spectre, Shepard can oversee the exchange."

"We're going," the commander said, turning away from the table, Wrex at her side.

"I won't forget this, Commander!" the dalatrass yelled at their retreating forms. "A bully has few friends when she needs them most!"

She had been away for almost three standard days; two and a half of which had been in and out of active combat. Always in control of her emotions, she felt her patience snap. She turned back to the conference room."By the time I have to deal with the 'consequences' of this decision," she said quietly. "You'll be dead. And hopefully the next Dalatrass understands the value of working together."

She turned on her heel and walked down the hall, Victus and Wrex at her side. Passing through security, she strode to Traynor. "Get the dalatrass the hell off my ship."

"Yes!" Trainer said quickly, snapping to salute. "I mean, aye aye, ma'am!"

Victus gave her a tight smile. "I'm glad you're on my side," he said.

"The same could be said for you, Victus," she replied with a tight smile. He gave her a nod and disappeared into the war room.

Shepard pressed her earpiece. "Garrus."

"You made it out in one piece," he quipped in response. She quirked a smile.

"Suit up. We're on our way to Sur'Kesh."

Author's Note: I've had approximately fifteen messages absolutely begging me to update this story, which I find interesting and flattering. Ask, and ye shall receive. Lots of dialogue, including snippets from in-game. Sorry not sorry? I'll try harder next chapter.