"Having all of these diplomats on the Normandy freaks me out."
James idled behind Joker's chair, hands deep in his pockets. Payton and the small horde behind her had disappeared into the negotiation room twenty minutes before, eighteen of which he'd spent walking up and down the catwalk leading to the cockpit from the CIC. He'd skipped out on his fifth set of pull ups to check on the situation.
Even with the faint purple color banding over the bridge of her already thick nose, she looked exactly the same as she always did. She wore her Alliance dress blues, but there was no difference there, either. Payton didn't need a dress uniform to look the part she was currently playing; it was in her posture and in her presence. And she'd covered the bruising near her cheekbones with makeup anyway.
Joker didn't appreciate the company, but he was distracted enough to not complain. "What?" Tilting his head up, he caught James' eyes for a moment before the marine rolled his. He could predict oncoming abuse to the letter now. "Afraid you'll open your mouth and end up some kind of diplomatic incident?"
"Don't judge," James said through a chuckle. "I mean, I get that you're probably used to it, but..."
"Touche."
James smiled to himself. It wasn't often anyone could get the drop on Joker, especially not him. When it happened, he was more than content to revel in the success for however long it lasted. "Just freaks me out, I guess. I don't really mesh with politicians."
"No, really? But you scream class president."
"There's too much riding on this," James pressed, ignoring the slight without so much as batting an eyelash. "What if something gets screwed up? What if I piss the dalatrass off?"
Joker laughed at that, knocking his wrist against the bill of his cap so he could look up at James without it shading his line of sight. "Then don't say anything to her. Unless you offend her by existing, I'd say that's the best course of action."
"You think she'd –?" His hands were smoothing over the grey fabric of his shirt before it clicked. "Right."
The cockpit lapsed into quiet again. A buzz of chatter from the CIC interrupted the silence even less than James' footsteps and the constant hum of machinery. He didn't like not talking. He hated standing around and waiting even more now than he had the last time he was stuck standing behind the pilot's seat.
After a while, he had to say something. "Does she have to deal with this a lot? The whole 'say the right thing or you start a galactic war' thing?"
"Shit, yeah. You have no idea."
James nodded thoughtfully. "No wonder she's so stressed out."
"Yeah," Joker laughed. "Good job on finding that out for yourself. The hard way."
His hand went to his jaw. Even two days later, it was still tender to the touch. The bruise had faded to an ugly yellow. "So does everybody know about that?"
"That you clocked your commanding officer?" Joker said, squirming deeper into his chair before returning his hands to the console. "Uh, yeah. You broke her nose. Of course everybody knows. I had to convince Liara not to go down and have a little chat."
"What? She was gonna kick my ass?"
"She was gonna kick your ass."
Everyone on the Normandy was like family. He wasn't surprised Liara was more interested in hurting him than fixing Payton up at the time. While their connection was problematic on occasion, there was something enviable about their closeness. But when you went through hell with a group of people, they became a part of you.
While he'd only been part of this crew for a couple of weeks, James was already starting to see it in how everyone treated him. Adams passed him a new pack of cards a week in. Garrus gave him a few tips on upgrading his assault rifle. Even Liara, who'd been more wary of him than anyone else, mentioned helping him find his family in the mess a few days prior. Before the incident in the shuttle bay.
He told her he'd think about it, that he wasn't sure anyone made it out, but the offer was what counted.
That sense of family was reflected in their next heading.
After the summit was over and done with, Payton headed up to the cockpit to give Joker his orders instead of sending a message through the system. No one was surprised when she seemed less than pleased with the outcome.
"We're going to Sur'Kesh," she told Joker after stepping up next to James, narrowly avoiding making eye contact in favor of staring out of the of the forward window. "Wrex is coming down with us."
"That sounds like a good time," Joker said, picking his words slowly. "A krogan on the salarian homeworld? You sure that's a good idea?"
Payton didn't answer immediately. Wrapping her fingers around the wrist held behind her back, her shoulders shifted upwards and fell back down again. "We don't have any other choice. The only way the krogan will help the turians is if they have a cure for the genophage."
"Shit," James muttered. "That's a tall order. Can we even do that?"
"We don't have any other choice," she repeated, turning her head just enough to look at him. "There are female krogan on Sur'Kesh. Word is that some of them are immune. The first dozen steps towards having a cure is there."
Joker's hands moved at breakneck speeds over the console, and in a matter of seconds, they were on their way towards their destination. "Then that's where we're going."
"Good," Payton told him, taking two steps away before turning around and starting to walk away. "ETA?"
As she made her way down the catwalk, strides even longer than usual, EDI's voice chimed in over the communications system. "The ETA is 1400 hours, Sur'Kesh time; approximately two hours. Unless you encounter trouble, you and your squad should arrive at the salarian facility at 1500."
"Thank you, EDI."
"Will I be accompanying you on this mission, commander?"
Payton smiled, if only a little. "Not this time, EDI. Tell Garrus to meet me in the shuttle bay in an hour and a half." Pausing nearer to the CIC, she turned around and looked back towards the lieutenant. "You, too, James."
"Yes, ma'am," James said with a grin, pushing away from the back of Joker's chair and giving her a casual, two-fingered salute.
Both men were there to board the shuttle right on time, armored and fully equipped, ready to be briefed on the mission. Wrex was there, too, much to Garrus' surprise. "I didn't think they'd let krogan groundside on Sur'Kesh," he told him, though Wrex didn't take the bait. His gloved hands worked at his shotgun, red eyes unwavering from Garrus' face. "I don't think you can pass for a turian. Human, maybe, since we've got Lieutenant Vega with us."
An indignant, "Hey!" was heard from the back of the shuttle, followed by a quiet chuckle from the commander.
"You're not gonna let them talk about me like that, are you, commander?"
She shrugged, moving closer to the front of the shuttle. When she passed by Wrex, she looked him up and down, earning a heh from the krogan. "I don't know, lieutenant. There are a few similarities. Garrus is a damn beanpole in comparison."
Garrus' mandibles flared before he smoothed his hands over his stomach, talons tapping against his armor. "I believe the correct term is 'sleek,' Shepard."
"Excuse me. Garrus is sleek," Payton continued, voice raised just enough for James to hear her. He laughed to himself, shaking his head. "Though I don't think there's really any difference. He's just covering his ego."
"So I hear there are krogan females on Sur'Kesh." Garrus diverted the subject as gracefully as he could manage. He rested his hands on his hips and his head tilted a little in thought, eyes moving between Wrex and James, who was still sitting at the very back of the shuttle. "Maybe we can find one of them for James. Scuttlebutt claims the lieutenant's lonely."
Payton could hear Vega groan even above Garrus' rambling diatribe about krogan ladies and scars, but she tuned out of the conversation just after, crouching down next to Steve's seat. He looked down at her, chin angled and an expectant expression on his face.
"We're not expecting action on Sur'Kesh, but we rarely ever expect a firefight." Her mouth twisted up at the sides, and she nodded when he replied with, "Doesn't mean we won't get one."
Nowhere in the plans had they considered the salarians the threat, but that didn't stop three snipers from setting their sights on Wrex the moment his feet hit the ground. Granted, he was shouting threats at them and wielding a shotgun with all the patience of five year old. But Payton had a vague understanding of the dire situation Wrex was being presented with. She could empathize as much as an outsider could. And she was similarly desperate retrieve the krogan females.
Though she wasn't the sort of woman to bend to her own kneejerk reactions, a betrayal at the hands of the dalatrass wasn't unexpected after the summit. Words were shared, some more heated than they should have been. Payton rarely posed threats as a means to get her way, but she saw no other option. With both the primarch and Wrex on her side, it was a matter of convincing the dalatrass that extracting the krogan females was paramount to krogan and turian cooperation.
She fought; Payton fought back. And when the commander left the negotiation room, it was on the coattails of a subtle threat from the dalatrass herself.
For a moment, as Steve lowered the shuttle closer to the ground and she stepped off of it, Payton considered the possibility that they would meet resistance - perhaps violent resistance - due to the argument that closed the summit.
But these fears were quickly put at bay, moments after Payton guided Wrex back from the salarian standing at the front. He explained away the situation, about how they'd only received clearance after they arrived and not before. He rattled off an apology, but closed the statement with a surprisingly solid, "But he will have to stay here under guard. He's not allowed inside of the facility."
Payton could hear Wrex growl under his breath, but she nodded, speaking up before he could give the salarian a piece of his mind.
"Understood. Wrex, stay here and keep Cortez company. We won't be long."
"I've waited over a century for this to happen, Shepard." Wrex holstered his shotgun on his back, newly freed fingers pressing into the palm of his hand until the joints popped. "I'm getting tired of standing around."
She turned around, looking back at him with a small - and hopefully reassuring - smile. "We'll get your females out of here and back to Tuchanka."
"If they haven't killed them all," Wrex grumbled in return, pushing past Garrus and making his way down the short flight of stairs with his armed salarian guards. She could hear him speaking to them as they walked away. "Clan Urdnot will have fried salarian for weeks if I don't leave this planet with our women."
The two salarian guards seemed more offended than afraid.
"I'm... sorry about that," Payton said once her attention turned from Wrex to the salarian still standing in front of her. "He's very –"
"He's very krogan. I understand, commander; there's no need to apologize on his behalf." Extending an arm in the direction of the rest of the foyer, he finally offered his greeting. "I am senior research director Padok Wiks. If you have any questions before we go down to the lab, I'll answer them."
Stepping closer to him, Payton shook her head. "I don't have any questions for you. We need to get the females and leave as quickly as possible. I don't want to risk an incident by keeping Wrex here for any longer than necessary. You understand."
"Indeed I do," Padok said with a nod. "In that case, I'll be waiting near the elevator. When you're ready, find me, and I'll take you down."
She stopped momentarily to assure Wrex that the krogan females would be out of salarian hands and onto Tuchanka soil in no time, though the conversation devolved quickly when James interrupted with a request that they go toe-to-toe when everything was cleared up. The lieutenant's enthusiasm at seeing a krogan as old and powerful as Wrex in his natural habitat - threatening those weaker than him with a shotgun and a flare of biotics - was obvious, and the krogan replied to the request with a simple, "Maybe later. You should get some tips from Shepard in the meantime. She faced me on Virmire and lived to tell the tale."
"Without a shot fired," Garrus piped up from behind them, too busy tweaking the settings on his omni-tool to devote his full attention to their chat. "If you don't count all those poor, defenseless fish."
Wrex laughed at that. "I never liked diplomacy. Too much talking, not enough action. But it's useful, if you don't want to get your face smashed in. You should take a page or five out of Shepard's book, Vega. You've got too much mouth to make it in a fight against me."
"The commander's the one who talks too much," James teased, leaning heavily on the crate at his side and shooting a lopsided smile in Payton's direction.
The krogan grumbled in thought before looking in her direction. "Nah, she talks just enough, and she's survived so far." Payton arched a brow, and Wrex chuckled. "Sort of."
"I'm glad you find it amusing, Wrex."
"Hah! What I'm glad for is that you came back, Shepard. Nobody besides the krogan cares enough about our well-being to help us with this. We appreciate it."
Payton reached out and gave Wrex a pat on his shoulder. "Anyone who doesn't acknowledge that having the krogan on our side is worth a few bumps in the road isn't worth following anyway," she said. And that was the truth in her eyes. Shrugging off enemies due to muddy pasts was a bad move, both on a diplomatic and a strategic standpoint. When facing an enemy like the Reapers, you needed everyone, no matter their scars.
Wrex smiled his distinctly krogan smile and jerked his head in the direction of the elevator. "Get your ass down there and get my women," he told her. "We need to get this cure on its feet."
She agreed. Finding the means to create a cure for the genophage was as imperative to relations with the krogan as the krogan were crucial to forming an army that could go against the Reapers. One step was needed to reach the other. So she turned and made her way in the direction of the elevator.
Padok stood there, waiting for her, his attention captured by something across the way until she cleared her throat. Swaying on his feet, he turned towards her with a, "Right. Give me a moment."
Clearance was given to them after he gave his name and identification number, watching the beam of light scan over Shepard's features. He smiled to himself when her brow furrowed and creases formed in the skin around her eyes at the intrusive brightness.
While he wasn't as frantic as she remembered Mordin being, he was just as animated, if not more. His discussion of Sur'Kesh and the wildlife found around the facility ran even longer than he'd anticipated, and he was still telling her about one of the many different species of carnivorous plants when the elevator's door slid open to reveal the lab.
"Activity on the perimeter." A familiar voice broke through Padok's, stopping the younger salarian short. His words were clipped, and Shepard knew who spoke immediately. There could be no mistaking him for someone else. "Facility would have been alerted if you knew when to shut up."
Payton brightened when she saw Mordin step up in front of the elevator, his omni-tool already glowing on his arm. She knew that expression - the serious, determined one he wore when someone was getting in the way of the timely completion of his task. He sighed, holding out his hand and wriggling his fingers, a gesture for Payton to follow him. "Messy situation, quickly becoming messier. The voices picked up in the signal are human. Vessels likely Cerberus."
"What's Cerberus doing here?" she asked, stepping around Padok to fall into stride with her former squad member. "Why would they want to stop this from happening? The genophage doesn't concern them."
"Destroyed Collector base," Mordin reminded her, though he knew she hadn't forgotten. "Vendetta, maybe? Genophage cure could potentially be used as leverage. Krogan army would be a very large and dangerous bargaining chip, should they fall into the Illusive Man's hands."
Garrus huffed. "It's a ballsy move," he murmured as he tagged behind the two of them. "Though the Illusive Man's never lacked a pair."
"Or two," Mordin chimed in. "Perhaps three, depending on the line of thought."
"I didn't expect to see you here," Payton said as they descended the stairwell that led to the main set of consoles. "Are you back with the STG permanently?"
"Nothing permanent. Especially not now."
Padok hurried out in front of her to speak to one of the officers, causing her to stop in her tracks and look around. The lab was familiar; no matter what planet she landed on, no matter what species the lab belonged to, everything always looked so similar. It was sleek and metallic and dimly lit, lined with shelves and computer consoles, omni-boards that glowed orange and blue, projections of life signs and other research. And Mordin was at the very center of it. She wasn't sure why she'd been surprised.
"Working as a consultant. Many variables to potential cure, many issues with Maelon's research." Taking a sharp breath through his nose, his fingers splayed over the console in front of another containment pod. Only when he began working near to it did Payton realize what stood behind the shield. "Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong."
"How long have you been here working on the cure?" Payton asked as she stepped up next to him, eyes narrowed at the work he was doing. She couldn't understand any of it. Science had never been her strongest point, but she could barely wrap her head around this.
He looked over at her, though his fingers never slowed down. He kept going, kept typing, even as his voice lowered to a whisper. "Months. Have been leaking information to Clan Urdnot. Friend of yours. Urdnot Wrex. Interesting krogan. Did you know he writes poetry?"
"None of it is very good."
Payton glanced up towards the containment pod, pulled away from Mordin by the deeply resonant voice of the krogan female. She'd seen many krogan in her lifetime, but she'd never laid eyes on any that could be described as 'mystical.' Perhaps it was the fact that she wasn't male, not a mercenary in scorched armor or a thug. Or maybe it was her voice - the underlying music of it that snatched her attention and made her listen.
"Still surprising. Was unaware that krogan were capable of creativity, no matter how... mm, violent." Leaning away from the console, he motioned for Payton to follow him again. "Need to get krogan off planet. Already contacted Joker; need to move, to keep her safe."
"Where are the others?"
"Ah, yes, the others." Mordin shook his head. "Dead. Unfortunate side effect of Maelon's research. No thought to their immune systems; dangerous work. Ultimately effective, but dangerous. Krogan female is only subject left."
James was standing in front of the containment pod when he spoke up. He didn't look away, brow furrowed, clearly trying to wrap his head around the situation. "What about her? You can make a cure with just one krogan?"
"I am not just one krogan," the female said, voice even and lacking any inflection of annoyance.
"Immune to genophage. She is the key to the cure."
"And the last hope for the krogan species," Payton murmured, quietly enough that no one but Mordin could hear. He nodded his agreement, watching as Payton lifted her fingers to her ear. "Steve, I'm sending you the coordinates for the extraction. We need to get off of this planet ASAP."
