A/N: I've had a few really rough weeks IRL, but look! I managed to finish another chapter, in less than 6 weeks this time. :D
Thank you everyone for the favorites and follows. And Sabola, Tuffet27, Candle in the Night, jediserenity82, Alpenwolf, systrami, Crystal Jaganshi, lyricsaboutcats, and Alpha G: thank you for taking the time to leave a review on the last chapter and for giving me the motivation to keep chugging away at this story. There are only a few more chapters left, so I hope you'll stick around and enjoy the rest as well.
Thank you to Suilven for beta reading.
Bau kept his eyes closed but his ear canals open as he listened to the receding steps of the evening guard, waiting for several minutes of silence to pass before he would sit up on his cot and look around.
He'd made a mistake—a foolish, desperate, rookie mistake—before, which he wasn't about to repeat. He'd become too cocky, thinking that he'd gotten the routine of his captors down; had thought he had enough time to hack into the encryption placed on his omni-tool once again. Never expected the guard to come back so soon and find him fiddling with his tool.
He definitely hadn't foreseen the man frying the electronics in his device as a deterrent to further attempts, taking away any chance Bau might have had to contact his team, burning his flesh and singing his skin raw in the process. So, now, Bau waited, trying not to think of the pain in his wrist and along his lower arm, or of the tender bruise on his temple where the human had hit him with the butt of his rifle.
Not having a functioning omni-tool made measuring the passing of time somewhat of a challenge, but not impossible. His internal clock was fairly well developed, honed during years of experience fighting crime and an assorted number of enemies, and Bau made himself lie still for what he estimated to be about twenty minutes.
Nobody came, and, eventually, he deemed it safe enough to sit up and look around. The room, one he'd been tossed into after his latest escape attempt, was Spartan, with just a bed and a toilet, and no windows. His captors must have learnt their lesson. Unfortunately, they'd learnt it all too well.
Still, Bau had never been one to give up so easily, and he wasn't going to do that now. He stood, then began to walk around the perimeter of the room, examining every nook and cranny, every little detail that he could exploit and—
Ah. There it was. A vent in the wall, not too high, with just a grate covering the hole. Even better, the only things holding the grate in place were two rusty nails, so maybe if he hooked his fingers in it and yanked...
The cover came free with a cloud of dust and debris. Bau turned his head away and tried not to inhale, but he couldn't avoid a series of coughs his lungs forced on his body to expel the irritants that had managed to make it inside his nasal passages. Once he could breathe freely again, he froze, listening for the sound of any footsteps. When there were none, he gently put the cover on the floor, doing his best not to make any noise, and turned his attention to the hole in the wall.
It was rather small.
Still, there appeared to be enough space in there to squeeze himself in and crawl on his hands and knees, so he took a deep breath, made a silent request to the Ancestors for assistance, climbed into the vent, and disappeared in the darkness.
~ooo~
It hardly seemed possible, but Kenn took an even more convoluted route back to the docks and, eventually, to Shepard and Garrus's rented ship, than the path he'd previously chosen to his apartment.
This time, Shepard had no complaints. In fact, she welcomed the quarian's care with which he chose every alley, every passage, as they made their way through the jungle of filthy streets that made up the underbelly of Omega, pulling them into dark recesses and keeping them in the shadows whenever someone happened to walk by. It was a prudent precaution: not leaving a trail or any clues as to their whereabouts would only work if not a soul had seen them board the Blue Nebula, after all.
Still, Shepard could have kissed the airlock door when they finally made it to the ship and walked on board. She was tired and hungry, had had just enough of this damned station, and wanted nothing more than to find out whether Liara T'Soni or Kasumi Goto had any information about Bau's possible location, set course for the place if they did, then sit down and have something to eat.
It wasn't too much to ask, and would have been an entirely feasible plan if only she and Garrus hadn't brought a few guests on board.
"So..." Tali started when they came to a halt in the mess hall, practically bouncing up and down on her toes with excitement as she took in every little detail of her new home, "where can I put my stuff?"
Shepard's eyes widened, her gaze darting over to Garrus as a sudden dread began to settle in the pit of her stomach. Sleeping arrangements. Dammit. This wasn't just a day trip, where they could expect everybody to sit it out in the mess while they flew to their destination. These people were going to need some actual beds they could call their own, and as silly as it was, that was the one thing she and Garrus had neglected to consider when they'd agreed to expand their team—and, more likely than not, that lack of foresight was going to bite them in the ass big time now.
If the startled look Garrus returned in her direction was anything to go by, the realization about their failure to properly plan ahead had hit him just as hard.
"Uh," Shepard croaked, reaching behind her neck to rub away the tension that had begun to coil her muscles into a stiff mess, "we have three single-bed rooms. So, each of you could have your own, private space. I think that would work quite well."
Please don't ask where Garrus and I sleep.
Tali brought her hands together and wrung them nervously, her eyes glowing with concern behind her faceplate. "But... what about you two? We wouldn't dream of taking your rooms, right, Kenn? We could just roll out a mat down in engineering."
Shepard sighed, trying to school her features into something resembling a neutral expression as her mind raced furiously over the implications of a potential discovery about Garrus and her bunking together in the captain's cabin. In the same bed. That... wasn't exactly something she was ready to share with the world—especially not while they were still under evaluation. She could just imagine the headlines and... bloody hell, Khalisah al-Jilani's pointed questions about why the Alliance had chosen a raging xenophile for the honor of becoming humanity's first Spectre.
And then, something else occurred to her. What had she and Garrus been thinking, anyway? What was going to happen if they found Bau and when they brought him on board, he walked into the cabin they should have saved for him, and realized that his students had been screwing each other while he was gone?
But... maybe this was actually good. This was the wakeup call they needed to get their act together before that happened. She'd just have to get Mordin, Kenn, and Tali out of the way, discreetly move her and Garrus's belongings to the crew quarters, and pretend that they'd intended to keep the captain's room for Bau all along.
With great effort, she forced a smile on her face, hoping that it didn't look half as strained as she feared. "It's all right," she said. "Garrus and I are fine sleeping in the crew quarters. That's what we did on our earlier assignment, too."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely." Shepard's eyes slid back to Garrus, settling on him as she gave him a long, meaningful look. "Maybe you could take them on a tour of the ship while I make the preparations."
Whether with amusement or anxiety, she wasn't sure, but his mandibles twitched as he gave her a small nod. "I think that's a great idea," he said, already making the move to usher Mordin and the two quarians out of the mess hall. "You should be familiar with the layout of the ship anyway. Might want to check out the engine room as well."
Tali's eyes lit up. She dropped her bag onto the nearest chair and grabbed Kenn by an arm, dragging him behind her as she followed the turian down the hallway. Mordin, on the other hand, didn't flinch a muscle. He kept to the same spot he'd stopped at, head tilted and eyes narrowed as he studied Shepard's face on the other side of the table.
"Well?" Shepard said, trying not to sound too impatient. "Aren't you going with them?"
"Am familiar with vessels of this kind," the salarian replied, his feet still rooted to the floor. "Don't need to see layout."
Shepard took a deep breath. She really, really hoped they were going to find Bau soon, otherwise she might have to strangle the good doctor before this mission was over.
Keeping those twitchy hands occupied with something else instead, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and glowered at the professor. "Go. With. Them," she said, putting as much authority as she could behind every single word. "Now." When he still didn't move, she dropped her arms with a sigh and pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to hold back the headache beginning to bloom behind her skull. "Please. Everybody needs to be familiar with all parts of the ship. For... emergencies."
Mordin considered her for a moment, and she steeled herself for an argument, but it never came. With a small smile on his lips, the professor gave her a dip of the head, turned on his heels, and, finally, followed the others without a word.
Shepard waited until the footsteps died down, and once she was certain she was alone, she took off towards the captain's cabin.
She had a lot of stuff to move.
~ooo~
Picking up their discarded clothing and stuffing them in their sacks took a couple of minutes; collecting her toiletries and the bags of chips she'd insisted on snacking on while stretched out on the small couch the night before, a few more.
Her arms loaded with all their gear and personal items, she left the cabin and headed to the crew quarters, moving as swiftly as she could. She did have to cut through the mess hall to reach her destination, but luckily, Garrus and the two quarians were still out of sight.
Mordin, however, wasn't.
He was sitting at the table in the mess, scrolling through some charts on the datapad in his hand. Shepard cursed under her breath but kept on walking, head held high and eyes stubbornly fixed ahead, hoping to make it to the crew quarters without another exchange with the salarian.
Unfortunately, this was not one of her lucky days. She'd barely taken two steps before Mordin called out her name, and she stumbled, dropping the lotion she'd been balancing under her arm onto the floor.
The salarian watched as the bottle rolled across the deck and headed straight under the table, clanking loudly as it traveled along the metal surface, stopping only when it made contact with his feet. Once it did, he bent down and picked up the item— because of course he did—and turned it around in his hands. He sniffed, inhaling a huff of air through his nostrils as he examined the ingredients and shook his head in disapproval. "Insufficient. Soothing effect only temporary. No actual protection against chafing. Warned before; turians' plating tough on human skin. Can provide better solution. Ointment, lotion for both partners before and after sexual activity."
Shepard squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as she swallowed down the scream desperately trying to erupt from her throat. "Why are you still here?" she snapped when she opened them again, snatching the bottle out of the professor's hands and nearly dropping one of her bags onto the floor in the process. "I thought I told you to take the damn tour."
Mordin shrugged. "Already done. Told you; am familiar with layout."
"Fine." She shook her head and turned around, but before she could walk out of the mess hall and leave him behind, Mordin called after her.
"Shepard. Would like to talk."
Shepard sighed and looked over her shoulder. "Now?"
"Yes. Before others are here."
Mordin waited until she faced him again, and when she did, he gave her a warm smile.
"No need to be embarrassed about relationship with Vakarian. Aware that training, evaluating, not to mention mission to find mentor, make situation highly stressful. Releasing tension natural and beneficial both for turians and humans. Enjoy activities, but be careful. Presumably, no problems with allergies on either side, but if there are concerns, issues, can help. As mentioned, can provide treatment for chafing. Also, instructional pamphlets, videos about helpful sexual positions." The salarian's lips pursed into a thoughtful pucker as he tapped his chin with a long, slender finger. "Though latter might be irrelevant by now. Assume you and Vakarian have figured out things already. Would be interested in hearing about experience. Might collect data for future educational material for other human-turian couples."
Not often did it happen that Shepard found herself speechless, but now, it took her a long few seconds to snap her jaw, left hanging as she stared at the doctor, shut before she could collect herself enough to talk.
"What," she finally croaked out.
"Will prepare lotions this evening. Can deliver them to crew quarters before bedtime. Suggest waiting with sexual activity until then. If in need of any other help, let me know." Mordin leaned back in his chair, beaming a satisfied smile at the commander, then picked up the datapad and began examining his charts again.
Shepard stood dumbfounded as visions of Mordin waving his concoction in the air and declaring its purpose loudly for everyone to hear as he marched through the ship flashed up in her tired brain. She shook her head and let out a deep breath.
"Mordin."
The salarian looked up, seemingly surprised to see her still standing there. "Yes?"
"Look. I appreciate your offer. And yes, maybe your lotion would work better than what I have here." She lifted the bottle and shook it, then squeezed it under her arm again. "But could you please, please, be a little more discreet about it? What Garrus and I have is... still new. And private. And... it wouldn't exactly be advantageous for us to let anybody know about it just yet. Especially not while we're still in the training program. Can you understand that?"
Mordin's eyes opened wide and he raised a lone finger in the air as a look of understanding spread across his scarred face. "Ah, yes! Societal pressures, cultural taboos. Should have thought of that. My apologies. Of course, Shepard. Do not worry. My lips are sealed." He drew a line across said lips as he pressed them together, and gave the human standing in front of him an empathetic nod.
"Thank you. Appreciate it."
Mordin hummed in acknowledgement, keeping his mouth tightly closed. "Mm hmm."
Shepard smiled, turned on her heels, and continued on her way to the crew quarters, with no more disruptions this time.
~ooo~
By the time Garrus walked through the door, ship tour done and room assignments settled, Shepard had already deposited their gear in the lockers near the entrance of their room, and sat down on one of the bunk beds to put a call in to Liara T'Soni. Garrus dropped down next to her, and watched as the holo screen lit up with the asari's image, his hand, conveniently out of view of the information broker's line of sight, resting gently on Shepard's knee.
Even through the hard ceramic of her armor, Shepard thought she could feel a pleasant warmth radiate out from his touch, but she did her best to ignore the wave of arousal that began to spread to her groin and concentrate on the broker's data stream.
To no-one's surprise, Bau's emphatic recommendation for Liara T'Soni's services had been spot on. The asari came through again, providing them with not only the flight plan of the ship Bau's kidnappers had rendezvoused with back on Watson, but the crew's final destination as well. According to her data, the ship had landed on Korlus in the Imir System of the Eagle Nebula, and had been stationed in the docks of a large Blue Suns facility since then.
The intel was encouraging, but Liara had no way of knowing whether the Suns had pulled off another prisoner transfer en route to Korlus or not, and, consequently, if Bau was actually on the planet itself. So, after thanking her for her help and signing off, Shepard started on the long process of contacting Kasumi Goto for some more information.
It took quite a few hoops to jump through to reach the elusive thief, but eventually they succeeded. The connection was voice only again. Kasumi sounded to be slightly out of breath, but she insisted that she could still talk.
"Nice to hear from you," she said, panting. There was a small grunt and a thump, and a second later, the sharp crack of a sniper rifle shot rang out in the distance.
Shepard exchanged a look with Garrus. Had the thief just taken a call in the middle of a firefight? Garrus raised a brow plate and shook his head, but before either of them could say something, Kasumi went on.
"I was going to contact you later today. When we were, umm, done here." She paused, the leather of her outfit creaking quietly as it rubbed against itself, then there was a whoosh, and a few seconds later, an explosion, followed by the screams of whoever had gotten caught in the blast somewhere. Then, silence. "I haven't received a signal from Bau's omni-tool for quite a while," Kasumi continued, "but last night, I got a ping from the relay in the Imir Sytem. Looks like he's been taken there. Unfortunately, the signal went dead again, so that's all I have. Better than nothing, though, right?"
Though the thief couldn't see it, Shepard nodded, her eyes fixed on Garrus. "Yeah. Thanks. That does help."
"Anytime. Give him my regards when you find him." Kasumi cut the connection, the mirth in her voice lighting up the room despite the dark clouds of annoyance hovering over Garrus's head.
He stood, the metal of his armor clinking against Shepard's leg.
"So, Korlus it is," he said as he headed for the door. "I'll go set course. Then we should eat something. I bet you're hungry."
~ooo~
Finding his way in the dark was not the easiest thing he'd ever done, but Bau was fairly sure he was making good progress as he crawled in the vents, peeking through the grills whenever he happened on one, trying to keep track of the number of mercs he saw in the rooms and corridors he passed by.
He felt as though he'd been on his hands and knees forever but, despite his aching arm and the progressively worsening bruises and scrapes on his palms, he kept on going, searching for that one spot he could leave his hiding place without the risk of being discovered.
Besides keeping out of sight, his priority was to get some kind of weapon. Without a functioning omni-tool and his pistol, he was at a great disadvantage, especially against the armored soldiers that patrolled the area, but if he could surprise one of them from behind... maybe he would have a chance.
Of course, all this would have worked better had the base not gone on full alert already. But, unfortunately, if all the shouting coming from the loudspeakers mounted on the walls were anything to go by, his absence had already been discovered, and search parties had been sent out all over the facility.
Yet, undeterred, Bau kept moving ahead. The voice of the base's commander, shrill and demanding as she kept shouting nastier and nastier orders at her goons, was getting on his nerves, but he tried not to shut out her words. Knowing the plans and movements of his opponents was one key to the success of this escape, and he was not going to give up that advantage.
His determined patience paid off in an unexpected way when he overheard something interesting. Apparently, he wasn't the only one on the Blue Suns' hit list. Between her rabid threats to hang anybody by the balls who didn't do their best to hunt the escaped Spectre down, the base commander had just screamed out a string of curses at a certain Okeer and ordered both the murder of "that damned krogan" and the total annihilation of his army of clones in the courtyard.
Bau paused, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he mulled over this new piece of information. Okeer. The name sounded familiar. There was a ruthless warlord during the Krogan Rebellions by that name, but that was hundreds of years before. Of course, krogan lived for a very long time—inconceivably long by salarian standards—, so it was not out of the question that it was the same person. Either way, this was disturbing news; not only for galactic peace, but for Bau's chances of slipping out of this place without being caught by a merc or getting killed by a charging krogan as well.
Regardless of the risks, going back to his cell and being put under round-the-clock surveillance with no means of another escape was not an option. So, he took a deep breath, ordered his brain to disregard the pain from his limbs, and crept on.
~ooo~
Eventually, Bau found a room with no visible occupants inside. He peered through the vent grate, trying to survey as much of the space as he could from his vantage point, and listened for a couple of minutes before he pushed the cover out and, as silently as he could, slid down onto the floor.
Everything was quiet, but there was a strange smell in the air, with clouds of some kind of green smoke wafting out of a register on the neighboring wall. Bau held his breath as he moved further into the room, away from the smoke. Whatever it was, it was dissipating now, but he was not about to take any chances. Not after getting this far.
Rounding the corner of a large desk, he came to a sudden stop as he noticed the bulking form of a krogan lying motionless on the floor. The Spectre stood for a moment, watching for any signs of movement, but there was none. If this was Okeer, then Jedore should be happy; her men had done their job.
Slowly, Bau approached the body. Where there was a warlord, there had to be a firearm as well, and he certainly hoped that this krogan would not be an exception.
At first look, however, he didn't find any. Still, he kept searching; unless he was unlucky enough to have the weapon stuck right underneath all that mass, at least one gun had to be somewhere. He lifted his gaze and scanned the room—and there it was, on a table, just a few feet away, right next to a... Holy Spirit of the Motherland. A large tank with a fully developed krogan inside.
Bau's feet froze to the floor as he stared at his discovery. So, the dead krogan was Okeer, and this was one of his clones. The Spectre wondered what the council's reaction was going to be about all this once he'd gotten out of here and given them his report. He couldn't imagine they would be very happy about it.
The good news, on the other hand, was that this didn't seem to be a high-volume operation. There were no other tanks—at least, not here—, so hopefully that meant that there weren't going to be too many krogan soldiers to deal with on his way out.
Bau walked over to the table and picked up the shotgun (not his favorite weapon, but it would have to do), and cast one last glance at the clone before he headed to the exit.
He didn't get far. As soon as he'd taken a step, the door slid open, and a group of mercs poured in, guns raised and pointing right at his head, and for a split second, Bau's and the first soldier's eyes locked onto each other. It was the Spectre who moved first, vaulting over the table and flipping it over to take cover behind the metal surface.
The bullets came flying right away, whizzing through the air and biting into the wall above his head. Bau kept his body low, waiting for the opportunity to lean out and unleash the firepower of his borrowed weapon.
His chance came sooner than he'd expected; he couldn't see much from where he was, but he certainly heard the explosion of the glass as some of the shots tore through the clone's tank, followed by a loud crash as the body that had been encased inside until now came tumbling out.
Bau peeked over the top of the table. If he had hoped for an unresponsive specimen, he had to give up on that wish now. The clone was already gathering himself up from the floor, rising up to his full, impressive height. His eyes slid over to the Spectre's position, and for a moment, Bau thought the krogan was going to charge. And maybe he would have, if not for the barrage of bullets suddenly hailing down on his armored body from the direction of the mercs.
The clone staggered and spun around, facing his assailants, and with a mighty roar, took off towards their group. Bau joined his assault with a few well-placed shots from Okeer's gun, picking off the ones that had managed to escape his ad hoc teammate's wrath.
The battle didn't last longer than a few minutes, and left only Bau and his new best friend standing in the room. The krogan sniffed the air, wheeling around on his heels as he scanned for more enemies to fight. When he found none, his gaze darted back to the salarian.
Bau kept the shotgun level in his hand, his eyes fixed steadily on the tank-born creature as he marched closer, then stopped just a few inches from his face.
"Name," the krogan said, his voice rumbling deep in the quiet stillness of the room.
"Bau. Jondum Bau. Special Tactics and Reconnaissance."
"Not you. Me. What's my name?"
Bau blinked, confused. "I... do not have that information."
The krogan harrumphed, his blue eyes staring at the Spectre as he rambled on and on about the tank and the words of Okeer the device had imprinted in his brain. Bau tried to follow, but all he could think about was how remarkable it was that this being, born and raised in such a way and with no experience of his own, had emerged not only fully grown but obviously capable of thought and speech besides the basic instincts a newborn might have. Not to mention the fighting—the fighting was rather remarkable as well. It was a skill Bau could really use right now in his quest of getting out of this base alive.
"Grunt," the krogan said, finally coming to a conclusion about what to call himself. "Grunt will do."
Bau nodded. "All right, Grunt. What do you say we get out of this place?"
Grunt cocked his head as he considered the salarian's proposal. "Will there be battles?"
"I can guarantee it."
The krogan's upper lip lifted in a snarl. "Sounds good." He walked back to one of the bodies lying in a pool of blood by the door, and picked up the gun that had dropped from the man's fingers even before he'd hit the floor.
Looking over his shoulder, Grunt gave his new companion an excited grin.
"What are you waiting for? Let's go."
