Tuchanka was a mess. Debris, reapers, and too many dead turians. And if Garrus or Laira made one more comment about this mess, she would shoot both of them.
When they found Lt. Victus, Shepard held herself carefully. He looked like Adrien: even beyond the colony markings that she knew by heart, they shared a similar build, he had lighter plating, but a similar sweep of mandibles; his voice reminded her of Adrien's too, but without the calm confidence that Adrien's had.
She was still in her battle focus; all these details were taken in at a glance, as well as the state of the other soldiers and their surroundings. When she asked what happened, and one of Tarquin's men jumped into the conversation, she knew there was trouble.
She could hear the grief and blame in the soldier's voice; an equal amount of grief in Tarquin's was combined with knowledge of his failure. That could be dealt with later; right now, he needed not to lose command of his men. They were right there, dancing on the edge of insubordination. He would either lose them in this moment - and if he lost them, they were lost forever - or he would hold them, and have an opportunity to prove himself to them.
He knew it, too, or at least sensed it; she could hear the fear in his voice as he ordered the soldier to stand down. If she could hear it, the turians definitely could. How many green officers tried to maintain their authority with that same combination of volume and attempted threat? It never worked, he was about to lose them.
So, Commander Shepard stepped in. A casual assumption of authority, with just enough annoyance clear in her voice to make it look like she was impatient rather than interfering; it worked, and bought Lieutenant Victus time. He would need to at least be convincing at faking confidence if he wanted to redeem the situation.
As he explained to her what had happened, Shepard suppressed a sigh. His initial reading of the situation had been sound, but his plan had more style than logic, more optimism than planning. It reminded her of something Adrien had said on Menae, "War is in my bones. But that kind of passion is... deceptive. It can make you seem reckless when you're anything but." She wondered if he'd ever taken the time to explain that to his son.
Shepard lowered her voice as she spoke to him; she wanted to help him find his spirit again, but she didn't want the rest of his platoon to overhear her. He had to be the one who gave them a reason to keep fighting, not her. She watched as he pulled himself together, and then turned and pulled his unit back together.
When he glanced back at her, she nodded. He was clearly inexperienced; raised with the stories of his family's prowess at war and his father's high expectations, piled on top of the already high expectations of turians in general for military excellence. He had probably spent his entire career overwhelmed by alternating feelings of failure when he tried to meet those expectations and fell short, and inadequacy when he couldn't see the solutions he knew his father would have seen. In her experience, a burning desire to prove yourself worthy of something even you knew was out of reach only led to disaster.
She took a moment to send a quick message to Adrien, knowing he had to be worried.
"We found them. All survivors evacuated. Tarquin is safe. ~Kel"
The reply wasn't long in coming, but it made her wince.
"Thank you for the report, Commander. I would like to debrief Lieutenant Victus personally, if you do not have any objections to his presence aboard the Normandy. ~Primarch Victus"
"Uh oh," she muttered under her breath. When Liara looked at her questioningly, she shook her head. Fighting the urge to reply to this message with an utterly annoying "sir, yes, sir!" she typed back a quick, innocuous affirmative.
"Lieutenant Victus, will you accompany me back to the Normandy to report to the Primarch in person? We'll get you back to your men before going after that bomb."
She was pretty sure he flinched, but he covered it well with a respectful nod. "Of course, Commander."
…...
She couldn't decide whether or not she was surprised when Adrien didn't meet them in the shuttle hangar. She knew perfectly well that he expected her to bring Tarquin directly to the war room; she also knew how much of a moral boost simply cleaning up would be. As they boarded the elevator, she pushed the buttons for the crew deck and CIC.
"Garrus, please show the Lieutenant to the men's room to get cleaned up, then bring him to the war room." When the elevator stopped, she shooed the two turians out the door before either had a chance to object. She was fairly sure that Garrus suspected she was doing this on purpose, though he couldn't guess at all her motives; she suspected Tarquin was too nervous to argue with anything, and probably pleased at a chance to delay inevitably unpleasant meeting.
When the elevator deposited her in the CIC, she made her way past Traynor with a nod, and went directly to the war room.
She felt slightly better when she saw the expression on Adrien's face when he looked up as the door opened; clearly, he had been more worried than he let on. His expression changed to confusion when he saw that she was alone.
"Commander. I thought Lieutenant Victus would be joining us?"
She nodded, keeping her tone bland as she walked towards him. "He'll be here shortly. Garrus will be showing him up from the crew deck. He's just cleaning up."
His eyes narrowed at her, but she clasped her hands behind her back and met his gaze calmly. When he snorted and turned away from her, she relaxed and looked around the room. The war room held a few too many people for the sort of meeting this was likely to turn into. Unfortunately, with the Alliance's retrofit the Normandy was rather short of private areas; especially private areas with enough soundproofing to remain private when they held angry turians. Shrugging, she turned to EDI's console.
"EDI, if I kick the crew out of the war room for a time, would you be able to take over monitoring duties?"
EDI's smooth voice answered her; she'd noticed that ever since obtaining her new mobile platform, EDI seemed disinterested in projecting the glowing sphere during conversations. "Of course, Commander. Will monitoring from the bridge be acceptable?"
"Yes EDI, that will be fine, thanks." She turned to the crew members on duty. "Ok, guys, take a break. EDI or I will let you know when you're needed." They saluted respectfully and left.
That left only Wrex. He was facing his console, but she knew he'd been listening. She walked over to him.
"Wrex."
"Shepard."
She grinned. "Out. I'll let you know when the war room is open again."
"Why should I be inconvenienced so he can yell at his whelp in private? I don't think so, Shepard. I'll stay right here."
Shepard scowled at him. "Wrex. Get out. Go visit the mess. Or the lounge. Or Eve. Go harass Garrus in the main battery. I don't care, but the war room is closed."
He gave her a stubborn glare, but remained silent.
She shrugged, and called out, "EDI, will you please lock all the consoles in the war room?"
As the interface on his console died, and the rest of the room's interfaces did likewise, Wrex grumbled and made his way to the door. Just as he reached it, it opened to admit Garrus and Tarquin. Wrex barrelled between them, managing to shoulder check them both on his way out. Garrus shot an annoyed look over his shoulder at the departing krogan; Tarquin barely seemed to notice, his eyes were fixed on his father.
Shepard slipped towards the door, catching Garrus' eye and motioning him to follow her out.
They made their way silently to the security checkpoint. As they stood in the scanner, she cleared her throat pointedly, and the chattering ensigns fell silent.
"No one goes to the war room until I tell you otherwise. Understood?"
At their replies of 'yes, ma'am' followed by salutes, she nodded and led the way into the CIC.
"Thank you for escorting Lt. Victus, Garrus. I appreciate it." He looked at her piercingly, but settled for a simple nod before heading to the elevator.
Shepard made her way to her terminal, flipping through the messages and reports that always seemed to fill it, as she plotted. Finally reaching a decision, she sent a request to the mess chief; then she occupied herself typing a message to Adrien and debating how much lead time to give him. She decided that 45 minutes would be enough time for him to wrap up his work and reach her quarters on time, without giving him enough time to get suspicious. Smiling, she set the delayed delivery just as the doors leading from the security checkpoint opened.
Turning, she saw Tarquin emerging - alone, fortunately for her - and looking rather the worse for wear. He straightened to attention and saluted when he saw her. She waved him over, and although his posture relaxed slightly, she could still see his tension; she wondered if he expected a dressing down from her, so she smiled in hopes of relieving that fear. It didn't seem to help, but he did approach her.
"Lieutenant, I'm glad I caught you. I'm sure you're eager to get back to your men, but I was hoping you would consent to return this evening, and join me for dinner."
When he looked confused, she added, "It's something of an old Earth tradition. When high ranking officers sharing a meal. Nothing official, casual dress is fine. It's just a chance to relax a bit. Will 1930 hours work for you?" She could tell he was uncertain, but he nodded unwilling to risk insulting her.
She smiled at him. "Great, I'll see you then." She nodded in reply to his salute and waited until he left to turn back to her terminal. She made sure the message to Adrien was set to deliver before logging out of the terminal. She sent EDI a quick message to put the war room back on normal operating status, then headed for the elevator, intent to putting her plans into action.
…...
Primarch Victus paced the war room, going over and over his conversation with Tarquin. He was still vibrating with tension, and couldn't focus his attention on his reports.
It was much later, when his omni tool beeped to notify him of an incoming message. He pulled it up, and read it with some confusion.
Adrien,
There's an old Earth naval tradition of senior officers dining with the ship's commander. I was hoping you would indulge me in upholding it, this evening at 1930 hours. I think it will be good for everyone's moral. This is casual, and friendly. No talk of the war! I promise I have not invited Wrex. Don't be late!
~Kel
