Hello All. Really sorry for the delay on this one; but real life and the fact that I'm trying to keep track of all the players caught up with me. I hope you're still enjoying it. And, as always, many thanks for following and faving. If you've got any comments or criticisms I'm happy to listen. Take care and be safe.
Chapter 29 - Counting Down
Shepard
Through Whiteson and the network of village constables they could keep rough track of the arrival of the Alliance forces. Fortunately only two APCs were on the way, even so that could mean up to 40 soldiers.
This was the hardest part for her – the waiting. During battle there was little time for contemplation – everything replaced by the need for action, reaction, and calculation. Afterwards came realization, elation, pain, and sorrow.
But now her mind supplied her with all the things that could, did, and might go wrong in this kind of situation. Driving her once again to tell Victus that she was more than willing to leave to prevent trouble.
"NO, Commander." Victus seemed to get more adamant each time she asked. She might not remember being around Turians but it was obvious that he'd made up his mind.
"Sir, Primarch…" She tried to appeal to his political side. "You don't want an 'incident'."
"Neither should this Admiral Renfield." Victus shot back.
They were having this 'discussion' in Vakarian's room. Shepard had been going to wait out the Alliance's arrival in her room, but Chakwas had pointed out to her that it would be better if she stayed in Vakarian's bedroom. Otherwise Garrus would probably get up and come looking for her.
Behind Victus's back she could see Vakarian and, once again, he was shaking his head no.
"All right; but if this starts to really go South, I'm going to surrender." She muttered. Victus just crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her, as if to say – 'No you're not!'.
After Victus had stepped out to see to something, she looked to Vakarian.
"Are all Turians this bull headed?" She complained, plunking down in her chair next to the bed.
Vakarian cleared his throat and she looked at him.
"What?"
"It's more than being bull headed." Garrus explained. "This embassy is, supposedly, part of Palaven." It took her a second to realize what he meant.
"Wait, you mean this is territorial?" He nodded.
"We're apex predators and centuries ago that meant having enough land to support our families and clans." He grew solemn. "That also meant fighting to expand it and hold it against others."
Her mind made a leap. "Oh hell, there's a dominance thing going on here too, isn't there?" Vakarian nodded.
"Renfield, in essence, is challenging Victus on his own land and Adrien won't back down." Shepard ran her fingers through her hair in frustration.
"Alright, but I'm not letting anyone get hurt because of me."
"Understood, I just thought you should know why Victus is reacting as he is."
After a moment, Shepard gave an exasperated snort. "And, of course, as the Primarch he's twice as territorial as the average Turian." After further thought. "And he's the top of the heap as far as dominance goes I'll bet."
"More like about ten times more territorial, and you're right about the dominance thing." Garrus said.
"Well crap." She growled and despite the seriousness, his mandibles tilted out in a smile.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." She glared at him. "I'm picking up your favorite phrase."
"I didn't say anything." He held his hands up placating; but his mandibles had shifted into what she knew was a smirk and she could feel the tenor of his sub harmonics.
"Don't need to, smart ass." She scowled and he chuckled.
Then she got serious. "Victus getting hurt wouldn't be a good thing would it?"
"No. His generals and his staff may be uncertain of him at times; but his soldiers and the Turian people are solidly behind him."
"Double crap." She mumbled and there was a snort/cough out of Garrus.
"Dry throat." He offered innocently when she glared at him.
Despite the seriousness of it all, she appreciated his ability to lighten her mood. Something that had been sorely missing, except around Joker, from the current Normandy.
"Asking him to step back won't work will it?" It was more a statement than a question.
"No."
Just then there was a knock on the door.
"Enter."
Shepard expected it to be either one or both of the doctors or the Primarch, instead a Turian she'd seen only in passing, a tan skinned male with brown plates and odd bluish white colony marks, entered.
"Praetor." He nodded curtly to Vakarian. "Commander Shepard."
"Arrak." Garrus returned his nod, equally curtly.
She couldn't be sure but she thought she could feel the edge of some displeased sub harmonics between the two of them.
"Lieutenant Arrak is head of the Cabals." Garrus explained to her.
"Lieutenant." She greeted him as one officer to another. The Turian edginess around their biotics had always puzzled her.
"How can I help you, Arrak?" Vakarian sounded polite but she could have sworn his sub harmonics were sounding out what she thought might have been – 'not that I want to'.
"I was looking for Nema." Arrak answered and Shepard thought she got a disgruntled rumble back from the Cabal.
Here Garrus rubbed his forehead plates with a talon like he was getting a headache. "I think she's with Hendan."
"And where would that be?" Arrak looked like he was getting the same headache.
Shepard had seen the two youngsters earlier as she was headed for Garrus's bedroom.
"I think they went up to the next floor and the terrace there." Both males looked at her. "They wanted to watch the rain."
For a split second they both looked dumbfounded.
"It's weather." Arrak exclaimed. "You check the weather, plan for the weather, work around the weather, avoid the weather, and endure the weather – not 'watch' it!"
"It's romantic." She explained. Arrak just looked more confused while Vakarian, at least, seemed to understand where she was coming from.
"Romantic?"
"Yeah. Teenagers, first crush, puppy love." She told the older Cabal. If she'd thought he was confused before, he looked totally bewildered now.
"Varren desire?" Arrak, desperate to understand, seized on that.
"Urgh, I forget the translator does equivalents when it doesn't have an exact match." Shepard ran her fingers through her hair. She never expected to be trying to explain young love to a Turian.
She took a deep breath. Vakarian obviously did understand; but she was annoyed to see his mandibles widen out slightly in a smirk. Ass.
"Varren have nothing to do with it, Arrak. It's just a phrase – it means first love – first attraction." She explained.
"Oh." He looked very relieved at that. She had no idea what he'd thought that had meant, but it probably hadn't been very nice.
"She should be concentrating on other things." Arrak grumbled.
Shepard shrugged. "Hey, they've managed to survive a war no one thought we'd come out of, and they're on an alien planet with time on their hands – what else are they to do?"
Arrak just stared cooly at her. His look provoked a faint growl out of Vakarian. (Heaven save her from over protective Turians.) Though secretly she was startled to realize that it kind of gave her a thrill.
"She should stay with her own." Arrak went on.
"Is there anyone else her age in the Cabal?"
"Well, her brother…"
Shepard interrupted him with a snort. "That doesn't count. Hendan's probably about the only other person her age here now, isn't he?"
"Yeah, most of the other youngsters have been sent back to the ships." That was Garrus.
"No wonder she's got a crush on him. Surrounded by adults that aren't paying them any attention – where else is she going to turn."
"I pay attention to her." Arrak protested.
"Really?" Shepard was skeptical. "When was the last time you asked for her opinion about a matter other than food?"
Arrak opened and closed his mouth a few times while he thought. Finally, "I don't remember." He admitted.
Shepard snorted and looked at Vakarian. "And I doubt you've been any better with Hendan."
Garrus had the grace to look embarrassed as he shook his head.
"No wonder they got together. You two just about pushed them into each other's arms with those attitudes." Shepard commented dryly.
Arrak and Vakarian looked at each other in, what she thought, was dismay. She was pretty sure there was some sort of sub harmonic conversation going on between the two; but she only caught the tiniest edge of it.
When it seemed to quiet down, she spoke up. "You want to ease them apart – get them around more kids their own age."
Vakarian gave off a short trill. "Hendan's parents entrusted Victus with his care, so he has to be nearby."
"I'm Nema and Eman's guardian so I'm obligated to watch out for them as much as I can." Arrak admitted.
"Looks like you're up a tree without a paddle then, gentlemen."
Arrak and Vakarian both looked at her like she was crazy and despite everything she couldn't keep from laughing.
Further South
The landing field had been socked in by rain. Given all the battle debris in the air, flying in a heavy storm was out of the question. Sometimes the lighter debris that was in a lower orbit would get sucked into one of the towering weather systems turning a heavy rainstorm into a lethal obstacle course.
So nobody flew in a rainstorm unless it was a dire emergency.
Pace was about ready to call it an emergency and get a shuttle; but he really didn't want to be taken out by a weaponized seat cushion.
He paced inside the Alliance's office, at his side was Colonel Yamana. Pace had been at the Alliance's European outpost when the Normandy's pilot had reached him to tell him what he thought Renfield was up to.
After cursing up a storm, Pace had sought out Yamana, who was in charge of working with the Turians and highly respected them. When he explained what might be about to happen, she'd wasted no time in ordering up a shuttle and getting them back to England. But they'd barely made it to the airfield ahead of the storm. Now they were stuck here until the weather eased enough to get a shuttle into the air.
From the weather reports he was hearing that wasn't going to be until sometime late tomorrow evening. The fight against the Reapers having damaged not only the planet but also its weather systems.
"There's no way to fly out there, Sergeant?" Pace asked the man behind the desk.
"No sir." He replied politely. "This is a messy storm." At their looks of confusion he went on. "It's pulled down a shit load of low orbiting debris and flying through that would be tantamount to suicide."
"What about getting above it?"
"No clear path to get up above it." He shook his head regretfully.
"Damn." Pace muttered under his breath.
Just then he heard the rumble of an APC and a truck. They stopped outside and after a moment a soldier ran in. He stopped in the doorway and let the water stream off his poncho before continuing inside.
" Hey, Nash, we're headed..ou….sirs!" He shut up and snapped to attention when he spotted Pace and Yamana.
"At ease." Yamana said. "You're going out in this storm, soldier?"
"Yes ma'a…er…sir..er..ma'am." The soldier sputtered. "We're delivering supplies and we're less likely to get attacked in weather like this." She nodded at that.
"You're headed out to Coddlington, aren't you, Morris?" Nash spoke up suddenly.
"Yeah, why?" Morris asked cautiously.
"The Colonels need to get out to the Turian embassy." Nash explained.
"You're going to the Embassy?" Yamana demanded.
"Yes ma'am." Morris told her. "It's our biweekly delivery."
"Got room for a couple of passengers?" Her question sounded more like an order.
"Yes Colonel." Morris thought about it for a second. "If you don't mind sharing with a couple of others headed out there."
"As long as it isn't a pair of Krogan we're good." She said then gave a dry chuckle. "They're a bit over large for close quarters".
Just then there was a honk from the truck.
"No ma'am." Morris said. "Go on out to the APC – we've got room there."
Wasting no time, Pace and Yamana grabbed their ponchos and headed outside to the waiting vehicles. Pace stopped to explain their presence to the driver of the APC, while Yamana went in the side door.
Just as Pace was about to climb in, it seemed as if the skies opened up and he thought he would drown before he got in. Slamming the door closed with a spray of water, he turned around to find six soldiers scooting away from the door and the water dripping off him.
"Watch it…oops." Somebody started to complain until he got his poncho off. "Sorry, sir."
He waved off the apology and moved towards the rear of the APC where Yamana was talking to two Turians of all things. He recognized one as a male and one as a female. Both wearing something he'd always wondered about, a Turian rain poncho. Given their cowls and the shape of their armors, he'd wondered how they kept the rain out of that very large bowl that surrounded their heads and shoulders. Talk about inconvenient.
Their rain ponchos seemed to have an elastic neck that fit up under their chins and stretched down past the edge of their cowl armor – allowing the water to sluice off. Clever.
He sat down next to Yamana, careful to keep his poncho from dripping on anyone. The male Turian, an older one he thought, glanced over at him. There was appraisal in that glance and something else he couldn't quite read, but then he wasn't used to dealing with Turians.
Yamana started to introduce them just as Pace recognized the cobalt blue colony marks on the man's face.
"Colonel Pace this is Castis Vakarian and his daughter Solana."
Oh shit!
