A/N: Wrex. Garrus. Ask and ye shall receive.

ATTWN doesn't really focus on these two - although Garrus plays a large role in the latter parts. I wanted to get some exploration of krogan and turian values into the story, as well as some insights into Wrex's past and issues with Garrus and his family.

Those of you who like Aethyta and Benezia should check out That Which Was Lost by Dr. Jekyl. Those of you who like to cry should try a one-shot I wrote called 'Mother's Tears' that I feel is perhaps the best writing I have ever done.

If you have questions about some of what is referenced here, leave a review or PM and I will answer as fast as I can. :)


'When your bond-mate has won 'Hottest Male in the Galaxy' awards from not just his own race, but asari, humans, and drell - yeah, you get a bit smug.'

- Citadel Security Executor Telanya Nasan Vakarian , 'Don't Like It? Kiss My Crest'


Wrex grunted as he stepped off the battered CDEM shuttle, pausing a moment and staring out the grimy view-port upon the blasted, broken horizon of Tuchanka.

Getting here had been a trial and a half, despite the short distance from the Widow Nebula to the Krogan DMZ. He'd been routed the long way around, unable to find a single ship going the direct way, and the turian liner he'd gotten passage on ended up nearly holed by a ragged force of batarian pirates and human Corsairs blasting each other.

The turian frigates and defense fighters escorting the liner had, he grudgingly admitted to himself, done a good job in tearing the batarians apart. Of course, then the stubborn idiots nearly got in a fight with the Corsairs, but the human in charge refused to rise to the bait and instead withdrew his force.

Even after getting to Aralakh, there was the fun of having to clear customs at the monstrously large orbital docking station of the Citadel Demilitarization Enforcement Mission. The CDEM, established after the Krogan Rebellions to prevent the Krogan from ever threatening Citadel space again, was simple, a blockade. It ghettoized the krogan, crippling them from ever rebuilding.

The concepts it operated on were simple: don't let the krogan build ships. Don't let them gain control of the planetary spaceport with it's associated GTS defenses. Don't allow any one krogan clan to gain dominance of Tuchanka. And don't let too many krogan emigrate off-world. And as such, most krogan never got off-world, and few who did ever bothered coming back.

None of that was particularly hard. Even at the height of their power, krogan were at best indifferent shipwrights. The economy of Tuchanka was very nearly non-existent, except for a few clans that dabbled in extreme-environment survival gear, selling their handmade suits to explorers after testing them against the worst Tuchanka could throw at them. The Citadel controlled the mining revenues of the rest of the Aralakh system in return for shipping in food, medical supplies, and the like. Only the elcor could withstand Tuchanka as well as the krogan, making them the only real merchants one found on it's surface.

If Wrex had just been another broken-down merc, he probably could have gotten past the CDEM pretty fast. The CDEM had no issues with most krogan returning to their home, and if they had a clean criminal record was even willing to let them leave again. But his very name raised hackles most times with the CDEM – getting off-world with Urv had taken a favor on his behalf from Aria, one he'd had to pay off by stomping down one of her rivals. 'Urdnot' was dangerous. It was the name of the only krogan warlord to crush a war priestess in single combat, a warlord who had outfought turians, stymied salarian STG teams, and very nearly toppled the Citadel Council.

On the wild sands, deadly hills and hellish alkaline fields of Tuchanka, names were power.

The station was as big and ugly as he remembered , but there were only a handful of turian cutters and frigates in dock, and a single heavy cruiser. The number of turians on board was low as well, and many of them looked too relaxed for turians. Rather than the usual varren-sniffing interrogation he was subjected to, they just waved him through.

Too many of them had the battered, worn look and ease of handling weapons of turian veterans, without the crisp mannerisms, sneering demeanor and razor-clean discipline Wrex associated with said turian veterans. There were also many more asari than he had remembered, almost all of them very young rather than the handful of matrons and matriarchs present on his last trip.

Still, Wrex decided not to press his luck and took a shuttle down to the only functional spaceport on the whole planet. The CDEM spaceport crouched on the edge of Radyos, the old capital of the Krogan Empire. The old city was surrounded by shredded hulks of kinetic-bombarded hills framing the tattered skyline, by a battered slum of badly weathered buildings broken up by a ring of haphazard fortifications – old starship hulls, bits of construction debris, piles of shattered buildings and rock. The broken pyramid that was once the Hall of the Urdnot was a crumbling mass in the center of the morass, and a haze of smoke from cooking fires and other less appealing sources dimmed the red-tinted sunlight.

The CDEM spaceport and garrison on the surface, by comparison, was all glittering blue steel, hardened kinetic barricades and the grim lines of turian architecture – sharp claw-like pillars, ugly lines like the curve of a turian skull, and the usual lack of any ornamentation that somehow offended something deeply krogan in Wrex. It bulked on the hills overlooking the city, like some slit-eyed predator mockingly watching the prey before pouncing to tear out it's life. The shuttle had been tracked by the lazy rotation of GTS batteries and automated defenses, a powerful kinetic shield snapping off to allow final decent.

The docking area was one-half reception and customs, one half killzone, littered with bunker-like fortification walls and overseen by a heavily reinforced set of balconies halfway up the wall with mounted automatic cannons to sweep the area in case of trouble. Turian snipers leaned against the walls here and there, powerful looking rifles within easy reach.

Wrex sniffed. Something was still off. The CDEM wasn't supposed to be relaxed. Pushing past the tiny bulk of the asari security officer standing next to the shuttle's exit, he stalked forward, heading directly for the short line of aliens he saw by the custom's and declaration desk.

Few non-krogan ever came to Tuchanka – the occasional batarian, here to hunt and prove his Blooding for high-caste status. A few adventuresome asari maidens looking for rough fun and a mate who won't die in a pitiful span of years. The rare elcor merchant, looking to make a quick turnover of his good. Mostly turians, hard bitten mercenary outcasts who made up the defenders of the garrison's outlying walls.

A few thousand asari and turians lived inside the soft glass bubble of fresh air and modern technology, along with a handful of salarians, monitoring the various sensor stations and weather relays. Information flew back and forth from the garrison to the orbital control station, which was in control of adjustments to the ring of orbital mirrors and massive shades that prevented Tuchanka from overheating.

A trio of older turian dreadnaughts hulked in high orbit, permanently pointed toward the planet, cannons and mass accelerators fixed on major population centers in case the krogan attempted a Third Rebellion.

Wrex sighed, flexing his fists and sniffing the chemically pure, dry, tasteless air. It smelled of turian sweat, the sweeter scent of asari maidens lust, the faintest hint of the dry peppery smell of salarian fear, and mostly the ugly hard tang of disinfectants and chemicals. He stomped forward, ignoring the glances of several turian security officers, before coming up to the high desk that read 'Inbounds' in both turian and Old Korogish.

The turian sitting at the desk was an older male, one eye occluded by a wide ugly scar that had actually splintered his plating. Rather than replace it with bionetics or cyberware, the turian had a black plate of metal screwed directly into his skull, krogan style. His armor was thick and scarred, if freshly painted in the CDEM color scheme, and his dark skin was set off by his dirty white plating and his one good, blazing purple eye.

A shining figure of the turian meritocracy, this was not.

Wrex was actually torn between being impressed at the sight of a turian with proper scars and the attitude of Tuchanka, and his usual disdain for anything he couldn't eat without vomiting back up.

The turians' voice was dry, almost bored. "A krogan. Returning to this vakar dungheap. Unusual. Name?"

Wrex folded his arms, spreading his massive shoulders and staring down at the turian. At least this one had a spine and didn't stink of fear. "Urdnot Wrex."

The turian had half turned to type in data and paused, slowly rotating his head to look hard at Wrex. "Welcome back, sire." The turian's tone had turned hard and cuttingly insulting, and Wrex actually smiled before leaning forward.

"The only thing the security guards in this place would do is hose your crushed corpse out of that chair if I decided to smash you to paste, bird. I am already in a bad mood." That, for Wrex, was quite a bit of restraint. A krogan returning to krantt and korgasi with news of blood-death of a son should not engage in violence until the Keening was complete, after all.

The turian was about to open it's stupid beak to no doubt sign it's own death warrant when a blue hand fell on the turian's left shoulder. "Vryusas, you should not be so reckless. Urdnot Wrex is too much a polarizing figure in krogan society to simply shoot him for being … rude."

The turian froze, his expression shifting from sneering to cold, searing fear and horror. Wrex had seen many a turian face certain death without a flicker of fear, but he'd never smelled one literally reek of terror before. And he didn't know why the turian would be scared of an asari, yet sneeringly dismissive of a ton of barely restrained krogan rage.

Stupid turians.

Wrex turned to look at the asari. Like most of the untrustworthy sluts, this one wore barely anything, a too-tight sheer cloth that hung down just below her breasts, and a longer skirt, both made of diaphanous and silky cloth in several layers. Her facial markings were white runes that circled the orbits of each eye, trailing down her cheeks and up her jawline before meeting between her breasts. Somehow she looked vaguely familiar.

That was not the CDEM uniform, not even close.

A leather belt, wide and worn, was slung slantwise across her hips, with a warp-sword on one side and a cut-down plasma-cutter with some sort of barrel attachment on the other. Those weren't a soldier's weapons either, and the warp sword was new, mass produced.

That meant a lot of money, and money had never flowed to the CDEM. It had been staffed with the types of turians that weren't worth promoting elsewhere, and the kind of asari that didn't take bribes.

Something was very, very wrong.

The krogan put his hands on the desk and leaned forward, mindful of the strange situation. He decided that he could afford his version of being polite. "I am headed home. All I need is clearance and for your stupid soldiers to stay out of my way. The faster you process me, the faster I can be gone. The longer you take, the more likely I am to get unreasonable."

The asari smiled, eyes flickering over him in a measuring manner. "No need for that, Cera Wrex. I can do that and more. We can give you transport, help you find Clan Urdnot – or what passes for it – even update you on the trail spoor and clan conditions. And the turians won't bother you any longer ... if you grant my mistress a few moments of your time, first, clanlord. Surely that is not too much to ask?"

Wrex ground his teeth, but the subtle tensing of the soldiers in the bay made him sigh in disgust. Whoever the asari was, the CDEM was answering to her. No matter how much he thought his people were stupid blood-chasers with no future, he wouldn't be the one to start serious trouble with the CDEM. "Fine."

She smirked. "Follow me, then. My name is Lirali S'Yama." She lead him off and away from the main reception and landing areas, down a narrow hallway of steel plating and logos of the Citadel. Wrex had never been here, and felt his crest tighten against his skull as he tasted the air – the faint scent of a hit of red sand made his snout twitch.

Oh, something was very off. He carefully checked his shotgun before following her cautiously. 'S'Yama' was the asari version of Clan Tuchan, a nothing name. A name that only meant one was either an anonymous clanless hoping for mystery...or a member of the Thirty, hiding their identity.

The former, he decided, was no threat. The latter could be, depending on who this 'mistress' was and why she wanted to meet with him.

Turning right at the first intersection, the asari pushed open a wide doorway, leading into an expansively large office, a good thirty feet across. "Queen Matriarch, Urdnot Wrex has arrived."

Wrex stiffened. There were only two asari in all of the galaxy who chose to use that title, and he somehow doubted Matriarch T'Armal would be slumming it in a CDEM fortress.

Knew I should have had some jaaki before coming down.

The office was deeply carpeted in deep fibrous piles of blue and light gray, while the north wall was natural rock, a shallow channel dug into it funneling clean, clear water into a shallow pool built into the floor and flanked by plants from Thessia. The other wall was dominated by dozens of haptic monitors, each showing various views from the CDEM cameras or real-time images from the CDEM air patrols that flew in the skies over head.

On the back wall, mounted on neat rows of hooks, was an armory. Warp swords, heavy machine guns, all manner of pistols and shotguns, even an older model turian lance cannon and a krogan warp hammer. The weapons were arrayed around the centerpiece, a long and slender rod of greenish metal with an almost invisible wire trailing from the tip down to a small greenish cube, a mono-filament eezo whip, a weapon outlawed even by batarians for being too cruel to use on living beings.

The center of the room was dominated by a single long asari style couch, surrounded by hovering flat panels of metal – some held food, others haptic keyboards, or monitors. Reclining on the couch was an muscular, lushly endowed asari draped in thickly layered black cloth, a shawl of silver over her shoulders, long dusky blue legs on display.

Hard purple eyes met his, the blue face showing the few signs of age in an asari, her markings dark black harsh looking geometric lines, deranged script and mocking shapes that hinted at darker things than mere ink. "Very good, my lovely little child. You may go, this is a conversation for … adults."

The asari bowed and left, shutting the door behind Wrex, who simply folded his arms and set his feet. "I thought you were dead, witch. Or had finally gone completely pyjak-brains and Aleena shot you out of pity. I didn't expect you to be fouling my homeworld. Mind telling me why you're in the CDEM commander's office?"

The asari laughed breathily, a thin patina of something darker in her tone. "You do not rush to embrace me, to let me feel cold armor and firm krogan muscle against my heated flesh? I am hurt, Wrexy." She sat up, her black clothing sliding about, revealing it to be little more than a hooded vest with sleeves, her bare breasts hanging out. Her tautly muscled stomach was covered in an intricate tattoo of a burning black sun, three bold lines intersecting it.

Wrex forced himself to exhale. The asari in front of him was one of the most dangerous and crazy in the galaxy – even if he had Aria to his left, Shepard to his right and his grandfather at his back, he would not risk fighting her. "I thought you were fucking that little salarian, Jaroth. You already kill him, or just break his spine trying to have more kids?"

She laughed again, tapping languidly at a control on one of the floating keyboards. "Not at all, Wrex. My delicious Jaroth is on Omega, overseeing our operations and making sure your old girlfriend doesn't get too cocky for her own good." Her eyes flashed. "He is comfortable there. As was I, for many years. I was there for some time...but Omega is too small, too tiny for my ambitions. And I'm so partial to krogan lovers...other mortals are so … fragile."

Wrex spat. "In other words, you ran."

Her black-tinted lips curved. "If you think that, Wrexy, you've become stupider than you were when you failed to listen to my warning about your father. I hardly need to run from that melodramatic jumped up stripper. She's forgotten who got her silly ass off of Thessia, spoiled brat."

She laughed. "Let Aria be the Queen of two-bit thugs, half-crest pirates and shitty little smugglers. The Umbral Queen has much larger ambitions." She rose on muscular legs, swaying as she walked over to him. "Ambitions that you could help with, old friend. And I will, of course, help you. You didn't come home to hug your brother, after all."

Wrex bared his teeth as she ran her hands along the stomach plate of his armor. "I am here for my own reasons, to perform the Keening. If you get in the way of that, Jona, I will tear you in half, our past won't stop that."

Jona Sederis, mistress of the Eclipse Mercenary Company, only smiled. "Wrex, you haven't even heard what I am up to! There are … so few people I can gloat to that I don't have to kill afterward." She actually rolled her tongue across her lips before turning away, lifting her hand almost tiredly. "Not that I mind killing them, but it becomes boring all too quickly."

Blue energy enfolded a bottle of something bluish, the contents sloshing sluggishly as the bottle flew into her hands and she uncapped it. "Sit, Wrex. Or I'll kill you, which would be sad, and then Aria would try to kill me, and the entire thing would probably get Urv killed in the cross fire." She pointed to a heavy krogan-style chair of solid metal.

Wrex flinched at the name Urv, and then narrowed his bulbous eyes, thinking. For her to be here, openly, with an office in the heart of the CDEM, explained a great deal of how slime like Okeer could operate so freely. He growled but sat, not out of any fear of her threat but rather to find out what in Kalros' name was happening.

"I have little time and less patience for your craziness today. Why are you here?"

Sederis drank directly from the bottle in her hands, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, still smirking. "The CDEM … has fallen far out of the sight and minds of those who hold the reins of power, oh yes. People – especially silly turians – are always so out-of-sight, out-of-mind." She laughed, a trilling sound of absolute derangement. "Which is funny if you think about it, since going out of one's mind is usually called being crazy. Does that mean all we cannot see is mere illusion, Wrexy?"

Wrex felt something crawling along the ridge of his spine, a feeling curling in his stomachs. Jona Sederis had always been crazy, but she had a sane edge to her crazy now. That only made her more dangerous, and finally it all clicked. He licked the air, sniffing, and shook his head.

"You took over the CDEM?"

Her smirk showed teeth.

"Mm. Turian blood brandy. Racy." She drank from the bottle again, before tossing the half-drained decanter aside. She snapped her fingers a moment later, a burst of warpfire incinerating it in mid-air, before it could strike the carpet. "And to answer your question, no. Eclipse has taken the contract to manage the CDEM in the aftermath of the losses suffered by the turian fleets, and because the CDEM forces manning the place … well, it's a long story."

The story she outlined in her drifty, half-sane fashion was almost comical. Originally she'd intended to work with a certain leader in the Blood Pack to speed up the smuggling of krogan off world. Granted, it would have made the Pack more powerful, but the Pack offered her a cut of mining profits, new contracts, even smuggling routes. There was an asari on staff with the CDEM's sensor division who had a nose for red sand and salarian vimthi powder, and she would let things slide.

At least that was the concept. Her agents had gotten into the CDEM and reported the turians and asari running it were very disoriented. After hearing their reports and video, Sederis had taken action, leaving Omega behind to investigate personally. She ended up finding one of the few turians who was still mostly normal, and discovered that many of the base personnel and even most of the turians and asari manning the station in orbit were affiliated with Saren and Benezia.

It took a little more digging for her to get a hold of rumors about people who'd been dealing with Saren. She'd actually tumbled to the full truth about a week before the death of Benezia – a conversation with Aria, leading to the discussion of 'indoctrination', based on leaked findings from the broken labs of Saren on Noveria.

Wrex grunted. "It's true. Saw the labs on Virmire myself."

He sipped the jaaki from the oversized cup she'd given him, eyes watching her hips swish back and forth as she paced. "Yes, I know. The Citadel is doing a good job at keeping things in the dark tides. But I see everything. Granted, by the time I put all the pieces together, Benezia was dead, and I was left trying to figure out how to salvage things."

She languidly arched her back, eyes amused. "I didn't know much about this indoctrination, except that too many CDEM were affected by it to play along with my own plans. I'd already sunk a small fortune into this effort, so I figured the only way to salvage my investment – and not simply slink back to Omega and boredom – was to be a upstanding citizen and let the Citadel know of what we found. I did that five days after Benezia turned herself into a torch. A day later sixteen cruisers full of Turian Deathwatch and STG teams stormed the place. It was a beautiful bloodletting. Eclipse helped, for the right price."

Sederis licked her lips. "After it was over, the turians were just going to shove more empty headed soldiers here, but I was able to convince little Tevos that a new approach would be … better. The Citadel has a problem with manpower, after all, not little things like a few tens of millions of credits. And the Sisterhood had no love for weak water-dancers like Benezia."

She smirked. "In return for us shutting the Blood Pack recruiters out completely, and ensuring the Enforcement Mission standards didn't slip, the Eclipse was granted operation of the CDEM contract for the next ten years. My girls have to wear those stupid uniforms, and we still have a handful of turian types to round out things, but it is... a good deal. Even that shifty little salarian thought so. Sparatus pouted, but no one cares about him, poor fool. Such a handsome form, and he spends his time in diplomacy."

She made a face of distaste, and despite himself Wrex laughed. "You actually convinced them to let a crazy woman run the CDEM. I'm not sure if I'm upset they think so little of the krogan, or worried about you somehow making my people even worse." He paused. "Garm must be furious that you double crossed him."

Her face twisted into a pout. "Out of his little shell with anger, of course. Even the Suns are pissed, mainly because they didn't think of it first. The Pack is starting all the problems it can for Eclipse. Fights in Omega, problems on the Traverse. Cutting me out of all of the mining they're doing out in the Traverse. But Jaroth feels some legitimacy will not hurt, especially with the Citadel nervous...not to mention we get free pick of all these lovely delicious weapons the CDEM had stockpiled."

Wrex shook his head. Sederis had always been crazy, but there was crazy and then there was flat out lunacy. The Citadel Council was distracted now, and the CDEM never a high priority, but sooner or later some Eclipse sister would start smuggling, or selling drugs, or something illegal. Most asari in Eclipse were as twisted and crazy as their mistress, and none of them bothered with doing things legally even when on their best behavior. Given how far out of the way the CDEM was, he didn't expect them to be on their best behavior for long.

And once something blew up, the Council would hold Sederis responsible. If she was tied to defying the Council, Eclipse would go from a shady mercenary group with suspected ties to organized crime to a target of the Spectres.

"Even for you, Jona, this is stupid and crazy. This is going to blow up on you and the Council will send Bau or Vasir to collect your head if even one person fucks up."

Sederis stretched, laying back on her couch, laughing quietly. "Will they? They're stressed to the breaking point. There's bad trouble in the Hierarchy, since Saren was the poster-child of the Fedorian bunch. Shock waves in the Asari Republic, about Benezia. The volus are unhappy the humans and suit-rats got seats, the batarians are making noise...it's chaos."

She smiled again. "Lovely, dancing chaos. It's my medium, blood-dark paint on a canvas of greedy fools and mere mortals. I don't fear those children on the Council. They're too dull, too boring to figure me out. And they don't care. As long as I keep the krogan in line, I think they're going to turn a blind eye. And given the krogan fear me and revere me, it all works out nicely."

She laughed. "Did you know they have a song about me? I was touched. It's rather simple, like all krogan music, but catchy. I executed a Blue Suns spy to the beat and it goes quite well with splintering turian plating as an accompaniment."

She lifted a slice of some sort of meat from a floating tray nearby and ate, eyes flashing. "As for fucking it all up...I won't be stupid, Wrexy. I'm taking a slice of all the things people smuggle on and off the world, but I can't be bribed to look the other way like the old CDEM could. Cutting the Blood Pack's supply of fresh meat off at the source is worth me losing money on other things. I'm even using it to train the younger Sisters, letting them grow stronger. I figure the children we make here will have the fire of Tuchanka in them, a thirst for sweet blood."

She laughed. "I'm even making a killing from selling medical gear and omnigel stocks to the clans, rather than red sand or weapons. No, I can enjoy this rather boring play of the waves for a time, relax and indulge in more … pleasurable pastimes than crushing fools underneath my heel."

She tapped her keyboard again, reading something before turning back to him. "And if it does go hot, I've already set up my chosen fall girl. It will be a matter of someone not following my orders, I'll kill them and dozens more in 'apology', and this will have been yet another Eclipse cell not doing what they're told and paying the price."

Wrex sighed. She had pulled that trick before.

She lifted another bottle of wine from the stack of bottles in the corner, bringing it into her grasp. "So...if you didn't come to congratulate me, why are you here, Wrexy? And were is Urv?"

His voice was firm, something that surprised him even as he spoke. "Urv is dead. Clan Ganar killed him,ambushed me. I'm here to … tell his mother. Perform the Keening. To call Blood-feud on Ganar, on Okeer."

She hissed. "Urv is dead?" For a flash her eyes were clear, free of madness and instead filled with a mix of fury, disbelief, and sorrow. It only lasted a second, yet it made Wrex feel even worse. Somewhere, in this lunatic's body, was still the friend who'd helped a terrified asari maiden and her compromised krogan bodyguard flee Thessia so many years ago, the gentle lover who'd taken a young foolish krogan and taught him how to fight and survive.

She closed her eyes, and exhaled, her aura flickering with a hint of biotic fire for a moment.

Wrex looked away. "Yeah." There was nothing else left in him to say more. No fire. No life. Just cold, hard, bloody vengeance. "I will perform the Keening, and then I go to find Okeer." He looked up, gritting his teeth. "Is he here, Jona?"

The asari shook her head, then looked up at him. "Okeer isn't here, Wrex. He blew through a couple of days after the big fight at the Citadel, and the rumor has it the Broker is looking for him. But his clan is active on Tuchanka itself. In their old home in Ukrat Steppes, stirring up the broken bits tribes out there and agitating those here."

She tapped the keyboard again, bringing up a display in midair. "They've been a nuisance, but one I've not bothered to crush just yet since they are thousands of miles away, and the Blacklands are nothing I'm willing to take my girls through. I've given though to aerial assaults, but they live off the land, in the old way, and so far haven't been stupid enough to challenge the shadow of Eclipse."

Wrex sighed. The Ukrat Steppes were a series of plains far to the west, where fresh water came down from powerful rivers sourced in the mountains that split Tuchanka's main continent in half. They were separated from the main clan areas by the Blacklands, a disaster area of broken mesas, shattered valleys and knife-sharp canyons ruined in the Krogan Rebellions. The Blacklands were full of ancient and hostile nano-plague infestations, radioactive waste, eezo dustings, and worse.

The mountains framing the Blacklands kept the taint within, but there was only one route through, a route guarded by the Ganar's old ally clan, the Muhka. Trying to navigate through the Blacklands on the ground without a Ganar or Muhka guide was tantamount to painful suicide.

"You could fly me there."

Sederis shook her head. "You would die, Wrex. Clan Ganar already spreads stories that Warlord Okeer defeated you upon the Citadel, and many younger tribes pressed for resources or water in the Vale of Blood are listening to their stories of cool lands and fresh water in the Ukrat Steppes. You'd be facing thousands of krogan."

He clenched his fist. "I need revenge."

Sederis spat. "You cannot gain revenge if you are dead, lovely boy. Urv would not wish his father to accompany him into the Abyss for nothing. Leave the crazy to me, you're not good at it." She paused, eyes narrowing. "I will prevent any Ganar from leaving or arriving on the planet, and my daughters will crush their agitators in Radyos and in the Vale. I can't do more than this, not even for you, not now. Perhaps when the contract is over I can accidentally crash a transport filled with tainted eezo into their precious steppes. But not now."

Wrex looked at her for a long moment. "You said the Broker was looking for him. If your Sisters find him first – "

She cut him off. "If the shadow of the Eclipse falls upon him, we will break every bone in his worthless body and deliver him to you, I swear on the name of Athame. Such shall not be easy, Wrexy. He is the oldest living thing in the galaxy, and even I am a child compared to him." She bit her lip. "He may have hiding places we know nothing off... the clan vanished for centuries, after all. But we will try." Her lips curled into a smile. "You'll have to figure out a way to make it up to me, though."

Wrex sighed. "That's all I can ask. Get me down out of here so I can tell Yranda I got our boy killed, and let her hit me until she calms down." He hung his head, his shoulders slumping slightly, and Sederis frowned before rising to cross the room, running her hand over his crest.

"You forget, Wrex. I, too, have lost a child. There is no healing that wound." Her smile is bitter, almost cruel. "You would be better off merely letting go of it all and grabbing hold of what feeble joys remain for you."

Wrex shook his head. "I am not Patriarch, Jona." He closed his eyes. "The fight doesn't stir me the way it used to. The ryncol tastes bitter. The blood-spatter is just a sticky mess. The soulfire is sullen when I call upon it – the fires of my line dying."

"There's nothing but me to die. If in doing that I can stop Clan Ganar from ruining the krogan further, then it's a better way to die than by inches, by glasses of ryncol and empty dead mornings." He clenched his fist. "Healing is beyond me. All I seek now is vengeance."

Sederis sighed. "Vengeance..how boring. Stay here while I arrange a tomkah for you, then." She was gone in swirl of black cloth and blue flesh, only her scent remaining, reminding the old krogan of simpler, happier times.

"Jona."

She paused at the doorway, glancing over her shoulder, and Wrex met her gaze. "Thank you."

She said nothing for a long moment, eyes flickering through several emotions before fixing in a small smirk. "Maybe I'm doing this just to hope you'll need comfort after you return from Tuchanka and your clan."

O-ATTWN-O

Garrus was more than a little nervous as he finished applying the last layer of Vakarian blue to his dress armor, the bold silver and dark blacks already drying. He'd already trimmed his fringe, touched his talons up, and made sure his facial paint was immaculate. The armor really didn't need the paint adjusted, but it gave him some to fill the last few minutes.

His family was arriving today, to meet Telanya for the first time. His mother's illness had gotten worse, and she feared that travel would soon be too uncomfortable for her to attempt, so she'd basically bullied his father into making the trip now.

He wasn't sure how his sire would react. Their last conversations after taking down Saren had gone … well, if stiffly. Solana would get along with her, if only to be difficult to her sire. And he was sure his mother would like Telanya.

It didn't hurt that C-SEC was singing his praises. Taking down Dr. Saleon and bringing him back for trial was something no one really expected Garrus to do – even Forlan figured Garrus would just blow the sick doctor away. His work on the horrific assault at Lenal had won him the approval of the two turian Spectres sent along to supervise. And his last case, shutting down an eezo smuggling ring without a single casualty, seemed to have even won over Palin.

Maybe now his sire would be proud, or at least accepting, of his son. Garrus hoped so. With a few final strokes of the color stylus, he finished the blue trim on the armor and stepped back to inspect it critically.

Telanya came into the room, wearing her C-SEC uniform, and wrinkled her nose. "Garrus, the living room is not the best place to do your painting in, given the smell." She smiled as she limped over to the couch and set herself down slowly, running her hand over her crests with a sigh.

Garrus winced at the catch in her step. Neither he nor Tel had fully recovered from the near-death battle against the geth in the Citadel Tower. His knee had been replaced by a cybernetic joint that still felt stiff and cold, and her own right leg was still healing from bone replacements. At night, he would trace the scars on her back and shoulders from where she had shielded him from geth fire with her own body, shuddering as he remember her screams.

She caught his sad look and smiled wider. "You're supposed to be happy today, Garrus. Your family is coming."

He nodded, a mandible flickering. "I am. My sire hasn't spoken to me much since I left Palaven, even less after I quit C-SEC. That he's doing so now is … well, Vakarians are stubborn. I haven't apologized for some things I said when I decided to leave C-SEC to follow Shepard, and he hasn't either. We're taking it slow, trying to just get along for now. But I'm nervous how he will react to you, I guess."

He traced his talons over the silvery trim of his family armor. "Being a Vakarian is supposed to be about duty above everything else – above pride, above honor even. Dad was always big on doing things the Right Way. I'm hoping he'll see that what I've gone through in the past year has changed me. I'm worried he'll still see me as a stupid, headstrong boy, and my choice of a mate as immature."

She shook her head. "I cannot say if you are just being pessimistic or if your father is just a bent crest. But I don't think it would be fair for him to toss away what you've done in the past month, in taking down that sick doctor or in freeing the victims, just because he disapproves of me." She rose, walking over to him and leaning her head against his chest. "I do know that even if he does not support you in this, that I do, and always will."

Garrus made a small rumbling sound in his chest, trying and failing to conceal his happiness at her statement, and she smiled. Before she could speak, the comm unit on the wall rang.

Garrus sighed, tapping his omni to pick up the call. "Vakarian."

"Garrus, this is Rithar down in Customs and Boarding. Your family's transport is coming in at dock 993 in about ten minutes. Figured you wanted to be there to meet them. I've got Vasuo and Krios on customs today, so you shouldn't have any problems."

"Thanks, Rith." Garrus clicked off, and began picking up pieces of his armor. "Can you bring the aircar up to the landing, Tel, while I get this on?"

She nodded, picking up the key-card off the little bar set into one side of their new apartment. The weeks following the triumph of Shepard and her team over Benezia had been heady ones. The Citadel had given them a monetary award, which Garrus and Telanya pooled to get a new apartment in the Presidium as well as their own air-car.

She walked down the steps from the apartment towards the air-car docket, smiling at how much things had changed. While she was sure Tevos would never forgive her for the act of defiance she'd pulled in her office, Telanya had been given a note from Ambassador Te'Shora, stating the Council of Matriarchs found Telanya had done her duty in a manner befitting the dignity of the asari people. Her mother had sent her a vid-call, happy and joyous at her daughter's successes and pleased at the news she wished to handfast with a hero such as Garrus.

Now, all she had to do was win over Garrus's parents. Once that would have daunted her. After the past six months, it mostly amused her. She'd faced alien terror units, literal space monsters, geth, and gone up against one of the deadliest Spectres in the galaxy.

She could handle cranky parents.

She got into their air-car, a longer model than usual with three rows of seats rather than the normal two. Garrus had found it at a volus dealership, the car originally designed for elcor and rescaled to fit smaller passengers. The purple and white car ascended smoothly up the docket and she brought it around to the front of the apartment, just as Garrus stepped out and locked the door, ducking under the open door to sit next to her.

"You still look nervous, Garrus. Everything will be fine."

He ran a hand over his fringe,shrugging. "My spurs are about to pop, I think. Still, since Mom and Solana are there, maybe he won't be such a vukar-beast about things. I'm sure she'll like you. She's always encouraged me to follow my heart."

She brought the car into the main traffic lane leading to Kithoi Ward, smiling. She'd recently changed her facial markings, removing her old patterns and replacing them with a tracery of lines in the same blue that Garrus's family used. She didn't match his patterns – that would be very presumptuous – but the asari pattern she chose was one of loving loyalty and determination. Maybe if Garrus' family was familiar with the asari meanings, that would make a good impression.

The car dipped and shuddered as it hit the air-boundary shell over the Wards, and she brought the acceleration down as it arced over the Kithoi docks a few minutes later, before pulling it into the restricted landing zones next to the docking area. As she powered down the car, a salarian C-SEC patroller started to walk over, no doubt preparing to tell them to move on, but she hung the C-SEC placard in the window and he merely nodded and moved on himself.

Garrus ducked out of the car, clamping his mandibles down,and took Telanya's hand as they walked down the pedway towards the docking lane. The docks in Kithoi were lightly filled, and the sharp lines of the turian patrol boat turned private cutter was the only ship she could see nearby. Like all turian ships, the lines of the cutter were angular and aggressive, like a long knife with small wings to either side.

Even as the mag-lock assembly finished clamping down and automatic robotic arms connected the service gantries and fueling hoses to the ship, the main hatch spiraled open,and three turians disembarked.

The two females were roughly the same height, both with the same tan skin and blue-white plates of Garrus himself. Bold blue markings dipped below each eye, to cross the cheeks and trail down the mandibles. Their fringes were shorter, more flared, and their hips wider than Garrus, both having slender waists.

The younger turian wore light padded armor, black with blue trim, along with a thin white sash over her shoulder that was knotted intricately at her belt, displaying her honors as Hierarchy Science Advisor. Her boots were high and flaring, dark black trimmed in vakar fur, and her talons hidden under thin black gloves. Her eyes were smaller and narrow than her brother, but her expression was friendly and open.

Her mother was slightly heavier built, with a visible slump to her stance. She wore a thick, multilayer robe of Vakarian blue, with panels of soft white heavy cloth trailing over her hips and a half-hood over her head. Narrow hard boots of white leather covered her feet. Her face was narrower than that of her daughter, her mandibles tight against the jaw, and she leaned on a smooth cane of white metal. A medical package of some kind was attached to a thick black leather belt that wrapped around her narrow waist.

Behind them, and towering over them, was a male turian. His plates were darker and thicker than those on Garrus, his stance almost stiff. His left eye had been replaced with a cybernetic implant that curled halfway down the side of his face, and his armor was almost identical to Garrus's own, in sharp blacks, blues,and silvers. The crimson and black rank-sash of a General of the Autarch Rank hung around his neck, and four glittering lines of crimson that ended in sharp claw-like glyphs glimmered fitfully on the chest of the armor – one for each award of the Primarch's Favor, one of the highest awards in the Hierarchy.

Regilus Vakarian folded his arms as he came to a stop in front of his son, his wife and daughter a step behind. Garrus made a sort of half-step and crossed one arm in front of him, dipping his head. "Sire, welcome. I am happy you all made it. I trust that your trip was...comfortable? The cutter is new."

The older turian nodded sharply, a mandible slowly flicking. "For the most part, Garrus, yes. There was some excitement with pirates that were seen off in quick motions by our escort. The cutter is a recent addition, the yacht was just too ostentatious for my taste. I donated it to the Fund for the Helpless." The single gray eye flicked over to examine Telanya. "You have yet to introduce your companion, son."

Garrus nervously coughed. "I – "

Telanya frowned, and made an asari bow. "General, my name is Telanya, daughter of Nasan, of no clan. I am a Officer in C-SEC Special Response, and Garrus' bondmate. I am delighted to meet you and your family."

Regilus gave a turian smile. "Thank you. I am Garrus's father, Regilus. This is my mate, Mitisia, and my daughter, Solana. Garrus was somewhat vague as to the nature of your relationship until recently."

Solana gave a laugh. "Oh, spirits, here we go."

Garrus sighed. "Let's get you to the hotel first, sire. Makes for a better place to discuss things than out in the middle of the docks."

The elder Vakarian grunted and ducked back inside the ship, exiting carrying two heavy black plastic cases,one of which he handed to Garrus. The group passed through the scanners at customs with no issues, although Regilus had to surrender his pistol.

They got into the air-car, Garrus's mother flicking an amused mandible. "You managed to afford a very nice vehicle, Garrus. I'm guessing you and Cina Telanya here have had some financial success?"

Garrus coughed as the car took off. "Some. We both got promoted in C-SEC, me to Senior Detective and her to Officer, and were given a pretty big monetary award from the Council for taking down Saren and Benezia, along with medals and citizenship in the Systems Alliance."

Regilus's voice was dry. "Humans come up with the most random awards. I'm not sure why they even made such a gesture. What next, free levo cuisine for life?"

Telanya spoke calmly, as she piloted the car up and over the main traffic lane. "An asari and a quarian were able to use their citizenship, taking the opportunity to join the Systems Alliance military. They now serve as officers alongside Major Shepard." She shrugged. "Among the asari, such a citizenship is highly prized. Asari have some difficulty moving in and out of human space without one, and many younger asari like to experiment."

Solana made a face. "That's a little...extreme, isn't it?"

Telanya snorted. "I'm not a big fan of some of the things my people do. I don't associate with them much, after some bad experiences in my youth." Her voice only had the slightest tremble in it, and Garrus took her free hand and squeezed it.

Regilus's eyes narrowed. "I suspect these experiences were part of why you joined C-SEC?"

She shrugged. "No disrespect, General, but it's not something I enjoy or wish to speak of. Let us just say that I think that, unlike turians, the asari people do not have their priorities in order."

Regilus was silent for a second before giving a rusty bark of laughter. "I like her capacity for barbed understatement, Garrus."

Garrus merely flicked a mandible as the air-car descended to land smoothly at the docking platform of the Carthaan Expevia, a turian hotel in the upper Kithoi Wards near the entrance to the Presidium. "Since our apartment isn't very big, I didn't think you wanted to crash on the couch, sire, so we got you the best hotel we could. It's only about two minutes from our apartment."

The air-car landed, doors swinging away even as two black-suited turian porters arrived, taking the bags out of the back. A third turian, his suit trimmed in dark green, bowed. "Welcome, General Vakarian. The Carthaan is delighted to be of service to your Family. Your suites are already prepared, please follow me."

Regilus shot Garrus a look before taking Mitisia's arm in his own and inclining his head to the greeter. "Of course."

Garrus and Telanya brought up the rear, the latter chatting quietly with Solana about the varied architecture of the Wards visible around them. "It's so...massive. How do you even find your way around?"

Tel smiled gently. "Most of the air-cars are built with integral navigation units, but as a member of C-SEC you get very familiar with areas you tend to patrol. I spent three years in Kithoi in the docks and working on smuggling cases before moving up to Financial Affairs."

They entered the lavish lobby, boots clicking on hard tile, as Regilus turned to her. "Hardly the usual path for a member of Special Response. Most start off in Interdiction or, like my son, Special Investigations – battle hardened types."

Telanya gave a small, almost mocking smile. "Yes, well. I think my survival during the Benezia Incident, including hot combat drops against Cerberus and geth, fighting Saren himself, not to mention helping Garrus stand off over seventy geth, were evidence enough that I can handle myself perfectly well in a fight."

Garrus' mother snickered. "Clawed."

The older turian shook his head in amusement. "Yes,well, that was rather pompous of me. What I was attempting to say was that usually Special Response is dominated by those who prefer using a gun to actually solving crimes. Your background should provide some interesting changes in focus."

Garrus almost puffed up with pride as they entered a lift. "It already has, sire. If not for her running down some of the customs alterations that bastard Saleon was up to, we'd have never identified his ship or pinned him down. Even before that, she was integral in helping Shepard with some of the investigations into Saren."

The older turian nodded. "I..." He paused. "I have not said this as I should, Garrus, but I am very proud of the way you have handled yourself in this entire distressing episode."

Garrus sighed. "Except for leaving C-SEC."

There was silence, and then Regilus shook his head. "No. I think, on reflection, you did exactly what had to be done. There is duty, always duty, and it does not bend for anything. But I was wrong in not seeing that you had to set your duty to the Law as higher than that of C-SEC, or even the Hierarchy."

"You could not in good conscious let Saren trample upon the honor of the Hierarchy, but your duty to C-SEC prevented you from stopping him. In any collision between duty to an organization and duty to the race, the latter should prevail...and I forgot myself, in my blindness. You made the correct choice."

Garrus looked at him, eyes wide, as he continued. "Saren was more than a criminal. He was the annihilation of honor, of duty, of sacrifice. Too many young turians in the colonies, with no strong guidance from Clan or Family, looked to him as a hero. He was not. He was a pragmatic and cold figure in his youth, growing bitter and hateful as time went on."

The lift opened out onto a large hallway, and they followed the silent turian guide down it. "More than anything else, though, Saren violated everything it meant to be turian."

Their guide muttered. "He betrayed the Principles." He then sighed."I apologize, General, for my – "

Regilus waved it away. "You are right, young talon. He defiled the Principles. He turned his back on the race, and plotted to place his own views and insights above everyone else. Even batarians are not that mad. The fact that you pursued him and were part of ending his threat is a mark of vast pride for the Family, Garrus. It will be entered on the Lists of Valor and sung by future generations. If you had merely obeyed duty to stay at C-SEC, who knows what would have happened?"

Regilus turned to the guide, who had been waiting patiently. "I presume this is our suite?"

The guide nodded and opened the door to a large, airy suite, done in curving lines of brushed dark steel set off with the faint gray-white wood of miorth trees. Large windows , curving triangles of darkened glass, were set into the far wall of the living space, giving a stunning view of the Wards and the darkness beyond.

Two large bedrooms and a palatial ablutions and bathing room branched off to the left, while a communal dining pad and mats filled an alcove to the right, along with a trough for gullet stones and silvery claw-picks on a tastefully arranged rack above. Woven rugs of vakar fur set off the center seating area, which dipped into a bowl-like shape around an electronic firepit , while haptic entertainment screens flickered against the nearest walls. Comfortable couches flanked the firepit, and a bar was set into the wall below the windows, stocked with turian drinks and snacks.

The guide crossed both arms downwards, a sign of submissive respect.. "Midpast meal is served in four hours, and we provide room service or formal dining in the Accav Room on the first floor. Our spirit house is of House Paya and is available on the fifth floor. If you have any requests, your room keycards can double as commlinks to our front desk." He handed Regilus a small stack of the cards, done in tasteful white and orange, and dipped his head again before departing.

After the door closed , Garrus's mother walked to the central seating area and sat down tiredly, leaning back into the cushions. "After all that flying about and jumping through relays, I'm not very hungry, so maybe room service with some light snacks would be best, dearheart."

Regilus nodded. "That's fine. Just remember if you get too fatigued, let me know. Solana, you wanted to do some shopping while we were here?"

The younger turian girl nodded, and Regilus chuckled as he handed her a credit chit. "Spoiled hatchling. Be back in two hours, no later. And do not – "

Solana huffed. "Do not embarrass the Family, do not blow your money, do not act in an undignified fashion, do not – " Her voice trailed off as she left out the front door, and after a long moment Garrus snickered.

Regilus glared at him, then glanced at Telanya. "I apologize for my children."

Telanya laughed, moving to sit across from Mitisia on the couch. "Garrus is often exasperating, but I still love him."

Garrus also sat, next to his mother, and his father remained standing, staring down. "Yes, well. I will not bite my words, young lady. I'm well aware of the fact Garrus probably loves you as well. He would not state his intention to handfast unless he was utterly certain. I have reservations about this, however. I had expected Garrus to, at some point, stop running all over creation with various young paramours, and to settle down back on Palaven with a … well, frankly, a turian female."

He sighed. "It is a sad fact that my brothers have no male children, and the last Vakarian male aside from Garrus, a cousin, is a dishonored fool, befouling himself with slavers in the Terminus. There are daughters, of course, and if they marry the Name will survive, but many will always trace the honor of a Family through the males. he name of this Family is ancient, and once numbered in the endless thousands, but our sacrifices to the Hierarchy over the years have weakened our numbers. I stand high in the ranks of our people, and I would like to think Garrus would one day as well. That will be difficult if he has no heirs to pass the Name to, and an asari mate."

He gave them both a grave look. "I am sorry to ask this,but your desire to be handfasted – have you truly thought this through, son? At what it will cost both you and the Family?"

Garrus was silent for a long moment before sighing. "I have. I have also considered what it would cost me if I did not do this, sire."

Regilus frowned, but Garrus clamped his mandibles close to his face before speaking, his voice quiet but firm. "I have not, I know, lived up to the Family dicta of 'Duty Ascendant, Sacrifice Without Regret'. I was too hot-headed and too impatient to work well in the military, and I was naïve and stupid when it came to what I though justice should be about." He exhaled. "My judgment was flawed, many times,and I cannot say I expect you to believe I have learned discipline or judgment in a handful of weeks."

He lifted his gaze to his father. "But she is all that let me claw myself back from a brink I didn't even see, one where I did nothing but try to solve everything at gunpoint. She made me realize that duty is nothing if you don't have a reason to protect something. That sacrificing yourself has to be for more than words, or oaths, or a Name."

Regilus's voice was quiet. "Many in the Hierarchy would disagree with your words."

Garrus nodded. "Yes, they would. In that, however, I have not changed. I am not going to alter my own honor, or what I believe, or who I am to please them. I cannot merely fall in lockstep with the duty to ideas and words when there is also duty to something greater. There is duty to one's mate. Honor to those who saved your life. Sacrifice in the name of someone who has sacrificed so much more." He looked down again. "And you cannot imagine, in your most horrific dreams, how much Telanya has already sacrificed and suffered. I will not leave her alone to face that darkness."

His father folded his arms, his good eye gazing down at Garrus, stern and unyielding. "And if that flies in the face of what is best for the Family?"

Garrus smiled. "Then I follow the dicta. Duty Ascendant, to her. Sacrifice without regret, for her."

Telanya found herself shaking. The sheer desire and wish for his father's approval was pouring across their link, but Garrus was willing to throw it away – to throw his very chance at ascending the meritocracy away – if it came down to choosing between Family Vakarian and her. She looked up, catching Regilus's eye.

All I do is make him bleed for me.

She tried hard to keep her voice steady as she spoke. "General Regilus, I ask you to hear my words. Not long ago, I put Garrus into an intolerable situation. The Council of Matriarchs, the rulers of the asari people, asked me to perform a task. It was not a task I would have – could have – done, but it was the only reason I was allowed aboard the Normandy to fight by his side."

She swallowed. "In not trusting in Shepard, in concealing that task, I nearly got Garrus thrown off the ship. Shepard was furious with me, and with him for not telling her about my task. It nearly destroyed their friendship – it nearly endangered his life. I felt his misery as he had to make a choice – the duty he had to chasing Saren, to his friend Shepard, who had given him that chance – or his duty to his mate, to support her in all things."

Both Regilus and Mitisia winced, and Telanya continued. "I swore that I would never put him in that ugly position again … and yet, here I am, hurting him again. Making him choose between his desire to please his father – who he admires, and loves, and desperately wishes was proud of him – and me. Between his duty and his love for his family, and his duty and love to me."

She felt tears, and looked at Garrus. "Once again, I am willing to beg, if I must. Garrus lives and dies by the thought that you would just … approve of him. Be proud of him. He tears himself up that he isn't around to comfort his mother. He worries that he isn't worthy of his Name. I don't want to make him choose between you or me. It isn't fair to him, and …"

She shook her head, and wiped her eyes. "As on that day, I do not know how I can prove to you that I am worthy. I am not some asari noble, to enhance his prestige. I cannot give him a turian child. I ca – "

She broke off, as Regilus slowly raised a clawed hand, looking her in the eye. "There are those who would say that I should have chosen a stronger mate, rather than one who even in her youth was ill. That I should have chosen for durability, and to bring forth more children. That I had a duty to my Family that should have stood above love. Yet they are not courageous enough to say such to my face, for I would slay them where they stood."

He seemed to struggle with something internally before speaking. "I love my son. I am proud of him. If I have been remiss in saying that to him, it is because of failings on my part, not his. He has shown everyone what the meaning of sacrifice is, to hurl away his station, his hopes for promotion, to risk his mate, to stop a madman and his accomplice. When they showed me video of that horrible scene in the foyer, the two of you nearly dead, I wept and cursed, for my last words to my son were not that I loved him. I plead with the spirits to save his life."

Garrus' eyes were wide and she felt his roiling emotions, but his father was not done. "Turians are a hard people, Telanya, because to be anything else caused us suffering and death. But my son has proven his duty, his honor,and his sacrifice, in a way I cannot. So have you. If he has chosen you, then I will certainly not stop him, and those who say ill of his choice or of you can face my claws as if they insulted my mate."

He looked back at her. "But before you do this, you must understand it will cost him. He will never ascend very far up the meritocracy. He will never be offered a command under the Primarch, or seat himself on the Autarch's Circle. There will be those who say that a son of one of the Founding Families should never do more than dabble with asari. They broke General Septimus from the ranks of the Primarchs to exile on the Citadel due to his extensive liaisons with the Consort, and they stripped Admiral Jahla of his rank and position for handfasting a member of the Thirty."

Garrus shook his head and sighed. "That just proves the Primacy Circle is nothing I ever want to be affiliated with."

Mitisia spoke, her voice soft. "Each of us is only given a little time, a few spans of life to find what we want from life, son. As your sire said, if you choose her, we will support you. She is a better mate than all too many of the soft-plated carrion circling the halls of the Spire, little more than spoiled fools in egg-heat and blind devotion to something they cannot understand." She smiled. "But he is also right. You do not wish to do this in haste, and regret it later, or it will poison your love."

Her voice was sad, and Regilus growled at her. "I regret nothing, Mitisia." His voice was harsh, but there was a note of defiance and attachment in it that made Telanya give a flickering smile.

He turned back to his son, who exhaled. "I'm already a bad turian, sire. I might as well be a complete failure." He looked up at his father.

With a sigh, Regilus Vakarian placed his forehead against his son's. "Foolish boy. I am always behind you. If I am stern, it is to protect you. I remember when you were hatched, fitting into the palm of my hand, nothing but wide eyes and tiny little hands gripping my collar. I wanted to shield you from the darkness of the galaxy, and instead I drove you away. But never doubt that I love you, son."

Garrus said nothing, merely holding his father's hands, and Mitisia stood, placing one hand on Garrus' shoulder, and one on Telanya's. "You'll have to forgive them, dear. Males of our species are in love with melodrama."

This time both Garrus and Regilus growled at her, and Telanya erupted into nervous relieved laughter.