Chapter Notes: Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter took me so long to get up. I'll blame work. The good news is, Chapters 13 and 14 are being betaed right now, so they'll be up relatively quickly, and 15 and 16 are in their draft stages. This chapter is a bit light on the action side of things, but the next four chapters are going to be action heavy (Jane's N7 mission, the krogan scouts mission, turian bomb mission, Tuchanka, the Citadel ... then our intrepid adventurers will be off to the Far Rim).
Anyways, sorry again for the wait, thanks for sticking around! I appreciate every follow and all pieces of feedback. You guys are awesome! - JSS
2169
"Captain Hackett says I'm one of the best shots he's seen," John enthused. "And he says I'm almost as good as you, but my problem is with strength and conditioning, not talent."
"That's fantastic, son," Frank replied on the view screen, grinning widely. "I knew you were talented."
"Thanks, Dad," John grinned back. "Anyways, Mom said I could get into Annapolis if I wanted, but I'm not sure… I… I've always wanted to follow in your footsteps."
The look on Frank's face was enough to convince John that he wanted to follow Frank's path. He'd never seen such a look of pride on his father's face before.
"That's one heck of a whallop you've just delivered, John," Frank finally replied. "Not only do you want to follow in my footsteps but you can get into Annapolis? I'm honored you want to enlist right away, John, but Annapolis… Think of the opportunities."
"You're my dad," John replied. "I want you to be proud of me."
Frank was quiet, the look now on his face indecipherable. "I am proud of you, John. And I'll be proud of you no matter what you decide."
"Thanks," John managed, his voice suddenly thick with emotion, unable to meet his dad's eyes.
A quiet voice murmured over Frank's shoulder, and John's dad turned his head to look over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'll be right there,Tim." Frank turned back around. "Sorry, son. I've got to go. Duty calls."
"Bye, Dad," John replied seriously. "Give 'em hell."
His dad disconnected his view screen, laughing in response to his son's sendoff.
He sat, staring at the screen for a few minutes, calming himself down. Hannah was waiting for him outside the comm room, giving him some rare privacy to be able to have a conversation with his dad.
Thing had been stressed between John and Hannah since Frank had left the Einstein for the Terminus Systems. John's refusal to commit to Annapolis remained a point of contention between the two of them, and without her husband as an outlet, Hannah often snapped at John for no reason.
Well. For no reason he could understand, anyways.
His mom always seemed to have a perfectly valid reason for why she was angry, but John could never wrap his head around it. She seemed to find fault with almost everything he did, and yet never left him alone. John felt smothered by her constant attention.
Finally, John stood up and stepped away from the video terminal, and stepped outside the room.
"Good chat with your dad?" Hannah asked, smiling at him in greeting.
"Yeah," John replied, giving her a half-hearted smile in return.
"What did you talk about?" Hannah pressed, reaching her hand up to squeeze his shoulder. In the eight months since Frank had left, John had grown quickly, now towering over his mother at over six feet.
"Stuff," John answered.
"What kind of stuff?"
"I'd tell you if I wanted you to know, Mom," he mutter petulantly.
Hannah was shocked into silence. "You have no cause to be rude," she finally said.
John pulled in a slow breath. "I'm not trying to be rude. I'm… I just want my conversations with Dad to be private."
"Fine," Hannah said quietly. "I won't pry into your business any more, John. I'm sorry I'm such a nosey, pushy mother."
"Mom," John felt instantly guilty. "It's not like that…"
"I don't want to hear it," Hannah snapped, cutting him off.
In silence, the pair walked back to their quarters.
"Hey, Lieutenant?"
Hannah looked up as the speaker in hers and John's quarters sparked to life. "Yes, Jeffries?" Hannah replied to the comm specialist.
"Your husband is available," Jeffries answered.
"John and I will be right there," Hannah answered, standing swiftly. "Come along, John."
John pushed the chair back from his desk, leaving his homework behind to join his mother by the door. "It's only been a week this time," he observed neutrally, following behind Hannah.
"Hmm," Hannah stared straight ahead, walking stiffly.
She'd been… removed the last week. Hurt, John surmised. Or something.
The usually quick walk to the comm room felt like it took forever it was so awkward and uncomfortable. As they neared the door, Hannah glanced back at him. "I'll let you know when it's your turn," she said flatly, and stepped inside.
Crossing his arms over his chest, John let out a long sigh. Hannah's silence over the last week had been trying. Her explosive and erratic behavior over the last eight months had been exhausting. He'd witnessed her moodiness with his dad, but he'd never been on the receiving end before. And never before to the extreme of the last week, either.
It didn't feel good.
Suddenly anxious about what his parents were talking about, he crept forward to eavesdrop.
"… owe it to him to finally tell him the truth, Hannah," Frank was yelling, his timbre muted through the speaker.
"Quiet, Frank, he might hear you," Hannah hissed. "How will telling him benefit him? What good can come of it?"
"What good will come of it? He'll know the truth," Frank snapped back. "It's important to be truthful with your children."
"She's probably dead, Frank," Hannah's tone was exasperated, but still pitched low. John had to strain to hear her. "She was four fucking years old, alone, and in Manhattan, for pete's sake. She had a snowball's chance in hell of surviving that, so why give him false hope?"
At her words, John broke out into a cold sweat, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. They were talking about Jane. He was sure of it. They had to be talking about Jane… John felt a moment of confusion. So did that mean that Jane might not be dead?
"Because it's the truth, Hannah," Frank sounded equally exasperated. "Fuck, Han, I want a good relationship with the boy. I… I don't want it to be based upon a lie."
Hannah laughed, but there was no mirth to it. "Now? Now you care? After how many years? I told you in the beginning, I told you the truth, I asked you how you wanted to handle it and you didn't say anything! You made me deal with it, and now you want me to…" Hannah dropped her head into her hands. "Frank, I can't tell him the truth. I can't look our son in the eye and tell him that no one even looked for that little girl. How do you expect me to tell him that they didn't look for his sister because I convinced Tiff not to file a missing persons report on her? How can I break his heart like that?"
John backed away from the comm room, feeling sick with betrayal. Blindly, he stumbled back to their shared quarters, and into his bedroom. Fists flexing in anger, in devastation, John stalked from one end of his room to the other.
His sister could be alive. She could be out there, somewhere, thinking he was… dead? That he'd abandoned her? He scrubbed his hands over his face.
Take care of your sister, Johnnie.
John's legs gave out under him, and he dropped to his knees, his mother's – his real mother's – voice in his ear. If Janey was out there, she was alone. He had to find her, had to save her… but he had no idea where to look. He didn't even know where to start.
New York. Their mom died in New York. He remembered that.
John rushed to his desk, and hunched over his terminal. He connected to the extranet, and pulled up his favorite search net.
[new york; earth; hospitals]
The list of hospitals was lengthy. The cold sweat break out again, and John felt a sense of dread. How was he ever going to find her? He hardly remembered anything about that night. He didn't remember anything about New York.
"Hospitals in Brooklyn," an extranet site caught his eye, and he suddenly realized just how big New York actually was.
"John?"
His mother's voice – worried, John noted – flooded his room.
Panicked, John turned off the screen of his terminal, and rushed to the other side of his room. Quickly, he climbed onto his bed, grabbing a datapad from off his bedside table and slumped back against his pillows.
"In here," John called out.
Hannah entered his room slowly, cautiously. "Your dad was disappointed you weren't there to talk to him. Everything ok?"
"I heard you two fighting, so I thought I'd leave," John lied, giving her a smile that he knew had to look fake, and not caring. "And I have tons of homework to get to, so…" He shrugged. "I thought you two could talk and I'd just get to work. Dad and I can talk the next time he calls."
"Oh," she hesitated just inside the door. "Well, I'll just leave you to it then."
"Thanks," John said evenly. Hannah backed out of the room slowly. John watched her go, even sending her a small wave as she disappeared through the door.
Once he was sure she was gone, he looked at his terminal, then walked to the speaker on his bedroom wall, pressing the button for the comm room.
"Hey, Jeffries, you there?" John called quietly. "It's John Shepard."
"Hey, John, what can I do for you?"
John forced the blush on his face down, and remembered what his friend Mike told him. "My friend told me that you would sell me a program to wipe my extranet history clean so my mom wouldn't see what I'm searching for?"
The laugh on the other end of the speaker put John oddly at ease. He knew the comm specialist thought he was searching for porn. He wanted the comm specialist to think he was searching for porn.
"Wow, John, I wondered if you'd ever come knocking for this program," Jeffries joked. "It's fifty credits, and I'll transfer it to your omnitool at mess tomorrow. Cool?"
"Thanks, Jeffries," John replied, cutting the comm.
He'd wait to search for his sister's whereabouts until after he knew how to scrub the history. Hannah could never know he was looking for her. He narrowed his eyes, and glared at the door.
And as soon as he was old enough, he was gone from this place. Screw her. And Frank Shepard.
Screw them all.
2186
John squinted at Kar'shan through the viewing screen in the back of the Kodiak. The batarian homeworld wasn't on the top of his list of places to visit. Even though he didn't expect to cross paths with anyone on this mission, most batarians would give their third and fourth eyes to see him dead. Killing Commander Shepard would probably be a moral booster for any surviving resistance.
"Just keep your helmet on, and any remaining batarians won't know who you are," Garrus suggested, guessing instantly what John was obsessing over.
"We won't see anyone, not where we're going," John replied sourly. "The Pillars of Strength scrolls are in an abandoned monastic library in the middle of a fucking desert."
"The Gar'pak Desert, specifically," EDI piped up helpfully. "It is twice the size of Earth's Sahara Desert. The Pillars of Strength scrolls were transcribed from etchings in a lost cave in the Pillars of Strength mountains to the south of the desert. Or so the story claims."
"I don't really need the history lesson, EDI. Is it hot?" Garrus asked.
"Brutally hot," John replied. "You'll love it, lizard boy."
"I hate the heat," Garrus shook his head. "Why do you think I left Palaven, Shepard?"
"I thought it had something to do with your endless daddy issues," John replied absently.
"Filial piety was a secondary benefit to leaving the never-ending heat of Cipritine, Shepard," Garrus replied in a long-suffering tone. "Really. Get your story straight – how am I supposed to trust the accuracy of my portrayal in your future memoires if you can't even get the simple fact straight?"
John snorted with laughter, falling silent when his eyes landed on the viewscreen. "Fuck. The Reapers just devastated this planet, didn't they?"
"The damage found here does not appear to be any worse than any other planet we have visited," EDI cocked her head to the side.
"Those scars are fresh," John said darkly. "These ones… Khar'shan looks like a ghost planet now."
John felt a certain uneasiness grow as their mission progressed.
It was routine. No one fired a single shot. The scrolls were exactly where the intelligence said they would be.
The itch in his spine that something was off wasn't going away.
John sighed as he and Garrus carried the scrolls, safely encased in a temperature-controlled crate, back to the Kodiak. He was sweating heavily under the hot sun.
"How do turians cool off?" John grunted as they struggled with the case.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm sweating buckets, EDI's coolant system is working overtime… So, how do turians cool down?"
"Sweating buckets?" Garrus asked, gritting his teeth.
"Yep," John replied. "Like a stuck pig."
"You humans and your damned expressions," Garrus snarled, exasperated. "What does it mean, John?" Garrus asked, as John actually spluttered with laughter.
"Means I'm sweating enough that the volume I sweat could fill up buckets. Buckets full of my sweat. Because sweat is a liquid," John finally managed to explain. "Which humans use to cool themselves down. And if you look at my face, you will see that it is soaked. With sweat."
"Turians produce a protein that helps our systems deal with the increased stress of being really hot," Garrus explained, looking faintly repulsed at the conversation. "And the idea that humans can produce sufficient liquid to fill a bucket, let alone buckets, is horrifying."
Groaning, the two slung the crate into the shuttle. EDI swept in to check the environmental levels of the crate.
"Wanna tell me why we were the ones lugging batarian religious relics into the shuttle?" Garrus asked with a pointed look at EDI.
"Commander Shepard complained about the glare coming off of my chassis," EDI replied sweetly. "I was simply following orders."
"Cortez, let's head back," John ordered, dropping down onto a bench and wiping his hand through the sweat beading his forehead. "The galaxy's going to hell and we have a long list of shit to get done before we get there."
"Not that I don't appreciate a good one-liner, Shepard, but are you going to make those kinds of dramatic statements at the end of every mission? They're starting to lose their weight."
Garrus easily ducked the pistol John threw at his head, laughing the whole time.
After the Pillars of Strength scrolls, the Normandy flew to the Vular system to recover a cache of black market artifacts they found using Liara's intelligence. In an attempt to save General Septimus Oraka's life, and to garner support from the Blue Suns, John was bartering black market artifacts with a salarian on the Citadel for black market weapons.
As much as John hated dallying in illegal artifact trading, John couldn't let Aria take out Oraka to secure Darner Vosque's alliance, no matter how much eezo the asari matriarch was promising. At least the artifacts on Vana were a violence-free solution to a sticky problem, John was grateful he had an out to killing Oraka.
Exploring the main colony on Vana with James and Liara flanking him turned out to be even more depressing than exploring the ruins on Khar'shan. They'd been removed from the devastation on Khar'shan, as the Pillars of Strength library were found in one of the least populated areas of the planet, but they were up close and personal with the destruction of Vana.
The batarian colonies were built under protective domes to keep out Vana's thin atmosphere. The Reapers hadn't even bothered to invade, they'd just shot the protective domes to shit, and left the batarians living inside the city to die, gasping for breath.
It left behind a depressing, morbid tableau.
John supposed he should be grateful that at least for these batarians, it had ended quickly.
Once the ground crew secured the black market artifacts, it was off to the Shrike Abyssal to pick up a Prothean Obelisk for a volus diplomat on the Citadel. Like the mission to Vana, and to Khar'shan before it, they encountered no resistance during the extraction, despite the high-risk location.
The Reapers hadn't even shown up until Joker was activating the FTL drive to leave the system.
"Set a course for Irune," John said to Joker absently, watching the Reapers with something akin to longing on Joker's monitor.
"Irune? Like the volus homeworld?" Joker snorted. "The little dudes have you doing their grunt work, too? Are you the entire galaxy's errand boy now?"
"Can it, Joker. They need…" John fired up his omnitool, and pulled up the file. "Ah, here it is. The Book of Plenix."
"What the hell is that?"
John looked at Joker blankly. "I have no idea. And I don't want to know. Ask EDI. Some other time. When I'm not around."
"Alrighty, then," Joker raised his eyebrows. "Everything ok there, Shepard?"
John let out a long sigh. "I feel like we're wasting time. Mordin needs more time to create the cure and until that happens we can't really do anything to change the tide of this war."
"I get it, you're feeling antsy," Joker nodded his head to some unheard beat as he plotted the best course to the Aru System.
John grunted. "Understatement."
"Then get all this crap done – the grunt work, the stuff you don't really want to waste your time on, and get it all done in one push. Then, to celebrate, have a poker night," Joker suggested. "You deserve a break just as much as everyone else on this ship, and you keep making the rest of us leave the ship and enjoy ourselves, but you never bother yourself… As your pilot, and the person who has been with you the longest out of everyone on this ship, I order you to have a night of drinking and gambling after the Book of Plenix."
"And after we swing back to the Apien Crest and go to Digeris to grab the Banner of the First Regimen for a turian Colonel," John added, scrolling through his list of low-priority, high-risk missions.
"After that," Joker agreed.
"And we have to swing by Sanctum, again," John continued scrolling. "They've developed a new medi-gel formulation that they need on Huerta."
Joker looked up at John, an amused expression on his face. "Has Harbinger asked you to wipe his ass for him yet? Because it isn't like we don't have anything better to do than pick up medi-gel."
John grinned at the pilot. "Set a course for Irune, Joker."
"Aye aye, Commander Errand Boy," Joker snarked.
"Everything ok, Shepard?"
John glanced over at Garrus and shrugged, looking down at the alien medi-gel formula in his hands. The turian was sitting across from him in the shuttle, watching him with a concerned expression.
"No," John answered shortly. "I want to shoot something," he complained. "A cannibal. Hell, a trooper. I'd even go back to Pinnacle Station and take out some holographic projections… Five missions, not a single shot fired. And sure, this medi-gel is going to save lives in the long run, but…"
"It still feels kind of futile?" The turian surmised.
"It's hard to feel like I'm contributing when I'm not killing Reapers," John shrugged. "I kind of feel like we're coasting."
Garrus snorted. "Yeah, you're not contributing anything right now. Laziest galactic hero I've ever seen," he said dryly. "Shepard, you should take advantage of the downtime. Everyone needs time off."
"We're heading back to the Citadel to pick up Jane now," John explained. "I'm thinking Skyllian Five and beer en route."
"I'll let James know," Garrus agreed.
"Hey, Cortez! You in?" John called up to the cockpit. "Alcohol and gambling?"
"You couldn't keep me away," Cortez called back. "Who else?"
"Joker, Wrex and James," John replied.
"Well, thank you very much for inviting me," Liara complained, looking up from the datapad that had held her attention since leaving Sanctum.
"Do you want to gamble and drink with us?" John asked, surprised.
"No, but it is nice to be invited nevertheless," Liara pointed out archly, crossing her arms.
"It's a boys night," Cortez called back, his tone mild. "Don't be insulted."
"I come from a mono-gender race," Liara shot back. "The concept of a boys night is foreign to me and seems juvenile."
"It is. And trust me, you probably don't want to be there," Cortez replied. "Half the time I don't even want to be there."
"You don't have to come, Steve," John laughed.
"Still," Liara pointed out. "Shepard, you do need a break."
"So do you, T'soni. When was the last time you took one?" John snorted. "Tell you what – next time we're at the Citadel, we'll grab lunch. Take a breather."
Liara sent John a serene smile. "I would like that, Shepard."
"It's settled, then," John nodded at Liara, then looked back at Garrus. "I'll get Joker and Wrex. You get James. We'll meet in the lounge."
John exited the shuttle, striding towards the elevator quickly. As much as he was looking forward to his shipboard shore leave, he still felt at odds.
Sighing, John finally allowed himself to address the topic that was really bothering him.
Jane.
Now that they were on their way to the Citadel, and Jane would be back aboard the ship, John finally allowed himself think of his little sister.
Five days had passed since Jane snuck off the Normandy for her N7 mission. John missed having her on the ship. Even when she'd been actively avoiding him after their stupid fight in the shuttle bay, John preferred a pissed off sister to an absolutely absent one. At least when she was just pissed off, he knew she was on the Normandy.
Safe.
Of course he was worried for her. Jane was his sister. It was his duty to be worried about her.
He almost wanted to send Jane's CO, Major Hepner, a request for a mission status update. Or demand to Hackett that next time an N7 squad needed Jane's help that the Normandy just be sent in.
John strode across the CIC and into the cockpit. "Joker, hobble on over to the lounge. Cards and beer in five. And that's an order."
Joker grinned up at the commander. "Aye aye, sir, be there in a jiffy," he glanced over at EDI's mobile platform, sitting next to him. "Do you mind taking the ship, EDI?"
"I do not, Jeff. Enjoy your night," EDI smiled at the pilot, and John grinned at them both.
Shaking his head, John made his way to the war room, wondering about a potential romance between EDI and Joker. He'd have to drop a hint to Joker. Or maybe to EDI.
Commander John Shepard, Galactic hero and matchmaker. As he waited for decon to finish its cycle outside the war room, John had to laugh at himself. If John survived this crap, at least he knew there was a career waiting for him in matchmaking.
He could hear the tag-lines now: "I'm Commander Shepard, and you are my favorite couple in the galaxy."
Wrex and Eve were next. Definitely.
The decon ended its cycle, and John strode into the war room, leaning up against the side of Wrex's terminal.
"Booze and gambling, lounge, five minutes," John said to Wrex.
The krogan chuckled, and sent John a grin. "I'm going to take you for everything you've got," Wrex challenged. "Will Vakarian be there? I'm going to take him for everything he's got, too."
"Garrus is rounding up James," John nodded, and glanced across the war room at Primarch Victus. The turian Primarch was watching them with thinly veiled longing.
Wrex glanced at the Primarch and back to John. "Eh, invite 'im," Wrex said with dark amusement and a threatening chuckle. "I'll take him for everything he's got, too. And then some."
"Want in, Adrien?" John called across the circular space. "Some drinking? A little gambling?"
The Primarch straightened and grinned. "In the lounge?"
"C'mon," Wrex gestured impatiently at the turian. "We're wasting time. I could be taking your credits right now."
Victus laughed. "I'd like to see you try," he shot back.
John grinned at the banter between the two aliens. This was exactly what he needed.
As the odd assortment of men settled in around the poker table, Joker shook his head.
"Would anyone object if we warmed up with a round of Bullshit?"
John grinned. "I haven't played that game since basic," he enthused. "There're enough of us, double or triple deck?"
"Double," Cortez interjected.
"Never heard of it," Wrex grunted. "What's the point?"
"To call people on their bullshit," James explained, and looked around the table. "Gentlemen, I propose we make this a drinking game."
"I'm in, someone help me get more alcohol," John replied, jumping up and heading to the bar.
"Rules?" Victus asked, sliding back from the table to help John.
"Well, the rules of Bullshit are simple. You lay down your cards in order," Cortez took a second deck from Joker and started shuffling. "I'll take one Ace of Spades out of one deck. The person with the Ace of Spades starts and plays all their Aces – face down. Then the person next to them plays their twos. You have to announce how many you're putting down as you play your cards."
"What if I have no twos?" Wrex grunted.
"You lie?" Garrus guessed. James nodded in confirmation.
"And if I know you're lying?" Wrex grinned.
"You call bullshit," John said as he and Victus returned to the table with more bottles.
"Drinking rules?" Joker asked, taking a sip of beer.
"If you call bullshit and they weren't bullshitting, you take a shot," Cortez proposed. "But if they were bullshitting, they have to take a shot."
"If you have to pick up a huge mitful, everyone should take a shot," Joker suggested.
"Deal," John agreed, picking up his cards.
"I'll start," James grinned, and played down his cards. "Three aces."
"Bullshit," Joker called.
James raised an eyebrow and flipped over his cards – three aces. Joker shrugged and poured himself a shot.
"Didn't want to wait," he grinned, downing the alcohol. "Carry on, gentlemen."
Hours later, Wrex, Garrus, John and Victus were the only ones still standing. James was snoring on the couch, a bottle of water and bucket next to his head.
The foursome was finally playing a game of Skyllian Five, sipping at their drinks and talking quietly.
"And that was when I knew he was going to kill me. My CO's daughter," Garrus laughed, ducking his head. "He knew my father, so the first time I screwed up after that, instead of disciplining me, he stood me in front of my unit, and announced: 'As you do not have the decorum of an adult turian soldier, I will not discipline you like one.' Then he fired up a view screen, and had my father lecture me. In front of everyone."
John snorted. "Sounds brilliant."
"No one touched his daughter again. Not until he'd found her a suitable match," he snickered.
"Speaking of suitable matches," John raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at Garrus. "What's going on with you and Jane?"
Wrex rumbled out a laugh.
Garrus looked down at his cards, and shrugged, uncomfortable. "I don't know. She shut me down before she left. I thought… I don't know, maybe I was misreading the situation. Maybe she's not interested."
"Oh, she's interested in you, alright," Wrex rumbled. "Don't know why she would be, no-good turian like you," the krogan laughed. "And call." He threw in his chips.
Garrus looked at Wrex suspiciously. "How the hell would you know?"
"Telling me was involuntary on her part," Wrex leered. "When I called her on it, she turned red in the face."
"Jane can't help but blush when she's embarrassed," John agreed. "And she confirmed it to me, too, Vakarian. So what's up?"
"Who is this Jane, Vakarian? Sounds like a human name," Victus tossed chips in the pile in the centre. "And I raise."
"Fold," Garrus sighed. "Jane Singer. She's the N7 Shadow who was part of the squad extracting you."
"Bit more than that, I'd say," Wrex rumbled.
John grinned, and folded.
"You're aware of this, Commander?" Victus asked, surprised. "It was my understanding that the Alliance has fairly strict rules regarding fraternization."
John shrugged. "This isn't strictly an Alliance ship, Primarch. I have alien crew, my XO is your Reaper Advisor, and when this was a Cerberus vessel I made no secrets of my relationship with Tali'Zorah, our quarian engineer." He realized suddenly he was drunker than he'd originally thought, and was sharing information with the turian Primarch he wouldn't normally.
"How turian of you," Victus said dryly. "There's hope for the human race yet."
John snorted out a laugh, and glanced over at Wrex, who was glaring at Victus. "Come on, ladies, who wins this turian-krogan stare down?"
Wrex and Victus threw down their cards, and John snorted, seeing that both men had pairs of aces.
"Draw. Split the pot," Garrus said dryly. "You appear to be evenly matched."
"Doubt that," Wrex growled, then shocked John when he winked at the Primarch.
"So, anyways," John collected the cards, and started dealing. "You? Jane? Did she shut you down, or something?"
Garrus shrugged. "What's the blind?"
"Big?"
"Small," Garrus replied.
"Fifty," John answered. "And stop avoiding the fucking question, Vakarian."
"I went to go see her after your fight," Garrus answered, and threw in one hundred and fifty. "Raise. She asked me for space, so I'm giving it to her."
"Big move this early in the hand, turian," Wrex narrowed his eyes at Garrus. "And don't be an idiot about Singer, Vakarian. That's not what she meant. Women always mean the opposite of what they say. She wants less space, not more."
Garrus sighed. "She could have come to see me at any time. She didn't."
"Garrus, I feel I should tell you that she did seek you out while you were on a retrieval mission with Shepard, but left the Normandy to report for duty prior to you waking up after you returned from that mission," EDI interjected.
John and Wrex sent Garrus smug looks. "Told you," John couldn't resist.
"Fuck off," Garrus glared at John. "Why are you playing matchmaker, anyways? You've never bothered before, or you'd have set me up with Miranda." Garrus shuddered. "Spirits, or Jack."
"Miranda? You wouldn't have had a chance, Garrus. I would have set you up with someone like Yeoman Chambers," John replied.
"Someone like Yeoman Chambers? What exactly are you saying about dear Kelly?" Garrus clicked his mandibles.
"That she has a thing for turians," John said wryly.
"Come on, Shepard, the matchmaking?" Garrus pushed.
"I expect a chorus of groans when I admit this, but I miss Tali. " John shrugged, and tossed down his chips. "Call. Matchmaking is keeping my mind off things," he glanced over at Victus. "Have any eligible young bachelors or bachelorettes you need paired off? I'm thinking of starting a side business."
"There's merit to that idea, Shepard," Victus replied, tone dry. "I'm fairly sure your celebrity status would cause everyone looking to find a life mate to flock to you and shower you with credits."
Wrex snorted. "We'll need your services on Tuchanka soon enough," he grinned. "I'll endorse you. For a portion of the profits."
John laughed, and grinned. "Is it wrong to want to see the people I care about happy?"
"I didn't realize your bond with Garrus ran so deep," Victus said, surprised.
"There's that," John replied absently, watching Garrus's body language as Victus raised the bet by another one fifty. "And then there's Jane."
"You are close with this marine as well?" Victus laughed. "You seem to have unusually close relationships with your crew."
John was quiet for several moments. "Primarch, you've earned the right to know, I think, that Jane is my sister."
"Shepard!" Garrus gasped, looking at Wrex.
"I already knew, turian," Wrex replied flatly. "Vakarian? You folding?"
"Call," Garrus replied, tossing down three hundred.
Victus looked between John and Wrex in surprise. "Really?" His gaze settled on Wrex. "You knew?"
"Some truths are let out involuntarily," Wrex replied. "I could smell it."
"And here I thought turians had a good sense of smell," Victus said, folding.
"I've known since Sur'Kesh," Wrex replied. "And I've kept it to myself," the krogan informed John. "So you're welcome, Shepard."
John nodded at Wrex gratefully. "Not many people know," John admitted to Victus. "But I'm finding it harder to keep it secret aboard the ship, so I'm telling people on a need to know basis." He snorted. "You needed to know because I'm drunk enough I'd let it slip. And… I think you've earned trust from me."
"Thank you for that, Commander. I assure you, no one will hear it from me, and I feel that you have earned my trust as well," he raised a glass. "I think I am going to retire, gentlemen. Thank you for the entertainment." The turian Primarch looked at Garrus. "Vakarian, don't let your pride waste your time. If you think you have a chance at happiness with this Jane Singer, then you should let nothing get in your way. I lost my wife many years ago, and I wouldn't trade a single second of the time we had together. And if I could get her back for a mere fifteen minutes… I would."
Garrus blinked at Victus, his mandibles flaring. "I… "
Victus made a quiet sound, and turned back to face John. "Commander, might I have a quick word?""
"Of course," John replied, standing too quickly and stumbling slightly.
"Goodnight," Victus nodded, and walked out of the lounge.
"I'll be back in a minute, don't break anything critical," John said to his favorite ground squad from the Normandy SR1 as he followed the turian primarch out of the lounge.
Victus paused just outside the lounge. "Commander, I'm afraid I need your help," he said. "It is a matter of … some delicacy, but in light of your honesty, I feel that I can … trust you," his mandibles flared in a brief turian grin. "Despite your level of inebriation."
"Don't worry, EDI will play this conversation back to me when I wake up, right, EDI?"
"Of course, Commander," the AI replied. "And might I add that Joker wishes me to inform you that he hates you and wishes he was never assigned to the Normandy."
"Thanks, EDI," John replied wryly. "Make sure he drinks water, and tell him not to throw up, or he'll probably break something."
"I will inform him of your reply, Commander," EDI answered.
John turned to Victus. "What do you need?"
"One of my ships has gone missing," Victus began. "Crashed, actually. I couldn't speak in front of the krogan… Uh, I mean, Wrex. Our ship went down on Tuchanka. Now they're pinned down by Reapers."
"What are your men doing there?" John hissed quietly, knowing how keen krogan ears were.
Victus looked down. He almost appeared abashed. "I'm sorry. That's … classified."
"Uh huh," John said flatly, putting his hands on his hips.
"It's vital they be rescued. They must complete their original mission," Victus pleaded, his tone passionate. "Commander… It's a matter of galactic peace."
John stared at Victus for a long moment, grateful that his years working with Garrus had given him insight into turian facial expressions and the meaning behind the subharmonics. Victus believed what he was saying. If anything, to the Primarch, this mission was more important than Reaper missions.
John felt a thrill of excitement pass over him. Finally. A mission with potential for action. They'd pick up Janey tomorrow, and then go kill some fucking Reapers.
"I'll do what I can, Primarch," John promised.
"Thank you," Victus replied in relief. "I appreciate the help. And the understanding."
"How many men are there?"
"A platoon."
"And you said it was a matter of galactic peace?" John asked, his tone mild.
"As I said, it's highly classified," Victus answered in an apologetic tone. "Please understand, I can't tell you." He turned away, then let out a loud sigh. "The commander is Lieutenant Tarquin Victus. He'll be your contact."
"Victus?" John's eyebrows raised in surprise. It could be a common name on Palaven…
"My son," the Primarch turned back around to face John. "I needed someone I could trust completely. Now, if you'll excuse me."
"Of course. Goodnight, Primarch."
Victus bowed slightly, and walked away.
Bemused, John wandered back into the Lounge as Wrex was standing up. "Ah, Shepard, I had something I wanted to talk to you about. Didn't want to say anything while the Primarch was here," he looked over at Garrus. "Don't much care about bird brain, though."
"What do you need, Wrex?" John asked, amused.
"One of my squads is missing," Wrex grunted. "They were scouting out the Rachni Relay. We've heard rumours of trouble in the area."
"Rachni?" Garrus asked, his tone sharp.
Wrex glanced back. "Thought that'd get your attention," he grinned. "Remember Noveria? Oh, no you don't, because Shepard brought me and Liara and left you behind."
"I remember you not getting to go on the final push against Saren," Garrus narrowed his eyes.
Wrex grunted, and turned back to John. "I have a favor to ask. It's big."
"Big like Rachni being back, big? Don't tell me they're back," John almost threw his hands up in the air. What the hell else could go wrong?
"Ha! Wrex, you'll have to stay on the ship this time – can't damage the 'healthy specimen,'" Garrus leaned back in his chair, obviously amused. "I'll finally have the chance to even the score and you'll be stuck behind."
Wrex rolled his eyes. "All I know for sure is our scouts went silent as soon as they arrived. I've got Aralakh Company, my bets unit, on standby. You give the word, and they'll meet you there."
John nodded. "I'll see what I can do, Wrex."
"Get on it, Shepard," Wrex said as he walked out of the lounge.
Garrus and John looked at each other, and laughed. John sat back down at the poker table, and gathered the cards, shuffling them absently.
"So that just happened," John said, the feeling of the cards moving through his hands soothing and rhythmic. "I never thought I'd face Rachni again."
"I never thought I'd see Wrex and Adrien act civilized towards each other," Garrus shrugged. "If they can get through tonight and walk away without killing each other, I'd say that Rachni coming back is well within the realm of possibility."
John snorted with laughter.
"Worried about Jane?" Garrus asked astutely.
John shrugged. "Yeah. Won't stop being worried until she's back on the ship."
The turian nodded. "Shepard…" he sighed. "I… Spirits, I can't stop worrying about her. It's driving me crazy, not knowing if she's ok. I've written her an embarrassing number of messages, and she hasn't responded, and now I'm even worried that she hasn't been able to check her messages, and she's going to think I'm crazy when she sees how many insane messages I've sent her – "
"Garrus, calm down," John fought to keep down the laughter. "If she's mad, she'll appreciate that you haven't given up, and if she hasn't been able to read her messages, she'll think it's cute."
"Don't fuck with me, Shepard," Garrus replied. "She's going to think I'm crazy."
"Maybe. But you can't take it back now, so you might as well lie to yourself," John teased. "And she's worked with this team before. They'll be fine." John let out a long breath. "I sent her a few messages, too. She hasn't answered me, either."
"Why is she so angry with you?" Garrus asked.
"No idea," John shrugged. "Jane has a temper. Usually when she's scared. She'll tell me what's wrong when she's ready."
"You're awfully patient with her considering the fact that the end of us all could be tomorrow," Garrus grunted.
"I thought she was dead until I was 18. Don't much care if she's pissed at me as long she's alive."
Garrus laughed. "I see your point, Shepard."
"Alright, Vakarian," John stood up and stretched. "Let's leave James to his rest. I'll see you tomorrow. Night, Garrus."
"Night, Shepard."
