AN I'm sorry for the delay, the last couple of weeks wasn't great for me (and I got obsessed with a Semper Fi illustration that took me a week to finish too, that didn't help) but I should post more regularly now. I didn't answer to any review from last chapter, I'm sorry but I won't, because I feel like too much time has passed for that. But, be certain I appreciated them all and reading them again has been like little rays of sunshine during those past shitty weeks. Thank you all for reading and I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter.
Semper Fi
Chapter 37
Shepard – 11
"Commander, we have a problem," Garrus said behind Shepard's back.
"Story of my life," she replied, spinning on her heels to go to the window. She wasn't really surprised, to be honest. Garrus' sudden interest for the window had had to be triggered by something after all.
There wasn't anybody on the docks pointing a bazooka at the Normandy or a mob of angry people with spikes and crutches after the elections either so Shepard took that for a win. Instead, Garrus was pointing at two alien figures on a level above, undeniably turians walking to the airlock and one of them easily recognizable thanks to her burgundy coat. Shepard wasn't one hundred percent sure it was Solana but which other turian biotic would come to the Normandy uninvited and with a very official looking guest? Kandros was still on Omega, for what Shepard knew.
"That's the Seventy-ninth's flotilla uniform, correct?" Shepard asked, lurking at the black and red armor the other Turian was wearing.
"Y-yes." His voice came out weakly. Garrus cleared his throats. "Yes," he repeated with more conviction, squaring his shoulders. "I believe we're going to have a visit from Major Elin Fori, Commander."
He was tensed. Shepard slid her hands in her pockets. She still had a lighter in her uniform and she played with it for a second while her mind worked. First, this was obviously related to the secret assignment Councilor Sparatus had given them a few weeks ago. Garrus had said something about Tarquin Victus being just a kid and that he shouldn't have been in charge of the mission. Which was weird because Turians didn't give a job to someone if they didn't believe that person was up to the task. There was something definitely fishy behind that.
Secondly, what the hell Solana had to do with that? She had been sent to Tuchanka to ensure the mission would be a success but she should have been back to the Cabal by now. What was she doing with Elin Fori, Garrus' only notable mentor before Shepard and one of the most feared instructors there was through the Hierarchy? Shepard had first heard of her thanks to one of Nihlus' friend, another turian Spectre who had spent ten years under Fori's protection – Athias Quo, that was her name. Fori had a terrible reputation and had a relatively low tiers due to her disdain for authority but she was nonetheless in charge of training hand-picked recruits to make the best out of them. Soldiers capable of staying under her command usually became lifers in the army and joined special divisions like the black ops or tried their chance as Spectres. Twenty-five out of the seventy-something turian Spectres working for the Council had been trained by Fori at some point, Quo had said – twenty-six now with Garrus. No one else had brought so many disciples to excellence. No one.
Were Fori's protegees still attached to her? The concept of this kind of relationship was difficult to grasp for an alien, Shepard had experienced it first hand but still had troubles with it, and she didn't really know if the devotion a protegee felt for their mentor faded over time. Shepard was Garrus' current mentor so he was supposed to follow her, not Fori, but Shepard was Human. Maybe it sufficed to put Garrus in an uncomfortable position.
"Well," Shepard sighed, "we don't exactly have a choice, do we? Let's go welcome our guests." Garrus nodded and turned to the door. "Just a thing," Shepard said. He stopped and looked at her over his shoulder. "I'd understand if you had to play the perfect Turian in front of Fori. You have my permission to be an ass with me." Garrus frowned but Shepard didn't let him talk. "You can even reunite with her or whatever, you're on shore leave after all. Now, let's go."
She managed to take two steps to the door before Garrus grabbed her forearm, leaning a little toward her to do so.
"Wait," he said, "I don't think you know how this work, Commander. I'm yours, period."
"Now's not the time to be my fake boyfriend, Vakarian," Shepard chuckled, a little embarrassed. Garrus frowned.
"My loyalty is yours," he clarified. "Of course I have a lot of respect for Major Fori but that doesn't mean I'll just ditch you on the spot. I'm perfectly happy to be your protegee and screw everyone if they don't approve. You're great, Shepard. Challenging as fuck but great."
Shepard laughed, more to hide her discomfort than anything else. Damn, she didn't know if Garrus was just his usual clumsy self uneasy with words or hitting on her. He had said weird things all day and it wasn't even noon.
"You're hurting the squishy alien," she said to put some distance between them. Garrus freed her and took a step back, apologizing. Shepard rubbed her forearm to make her lie a little more believable. Was she supposed to talk to him about their relationship, re-establish a few unspoken rules? Or did she just have to let it go because she was imagining things? Nihlus would know but there was no way in Hell she'd ask anything related to Garrus to her mentor. Now wasn't the time for that anyway. "We're done here?" she asked, more serious.
"Yes, Commander," he replied, straightening and squaring his shoulders.
Shepard walked out of the lounge, Garrus on her heels. Nobody had died in the mess during the interlude, though Javik had moved from the kitchen to the main table, now sat in between Lawson and Nihlus, watching the Turian with all his eyes. The tension was obvious but Shepard ignored it.
"Something came up," she announced, walking to the elevator without stopping. "Nihlus, we'll resume our discussion later."
"When?" he asked. "I don't have all day, you know?"
"Not my problem," Shepard replied. She called the elevator and heard Nihlus rant on the other side of the shaft. To her surprise, he came to her, glancing at Garrus when he got the chance.
"I want those clones alive," Nihlus suddenly announced, folding his arms.
It took a lot of self-control for Shepard to just not throw this asshole against the nearest wall and be done with him.
"You want to start a collection, Kryik?" she smiled instead, murder in her eyes. "That's creepy, even for you."
"They're people."
"I didn't see you try to protect the others," Shepard retorted, "you know, the clones of unrelated important human figures."
"Because I don't care about those."
The elevator's door open, which gave Shepard an excuse to put an end to the conversion. Maybe Nihlus would take her silence as an agreement but that was a problem for another time, she decided as she smashed the button for second deck. Nihlus had always been weirdly obsessive over a few persons, Shepard and Saren in particular, but he was borderline crazy now. He wouldn't be the first Spectre to see their moral compass completely fucked up over the years. Should she alert the Council? Shepard didn't like the idea. Nihlus wouldn't do that if she was at fault. No, if something was wrong with her, Nihlus would first talk to Anderson. Shepard didn't consider him as her mentor, he had been her boss for a long time and they were friends now, more or less, but he would be from a Turian's point of view. Shepard rubbed her eyes. She had to talk to Saren. That was just fucking great.
Shepard walked to the airlock, focusing on the next task. She would have liked to have a weapon with her, just in case, but she'd have to count on her biotics only this time. Well, and Garrus, she thought, frowning a little. Close combat wasn't a problem for him, her butt remembered it pretty clearly from the training session this morning. She'd have to work on that.
The doors opened with their habitual woosh on the tallest Turian Shepard had ever seen. Garrus was already tall for his species' standards but Fori easily towered over him by ten centimeters, if not more. Her face was pale, with red tattoos damaged by time and countless fights, and her eyes were of an intense red. Two of her fringes on her left were broken, otherwise she didn't have any visible scar, but she didn't need any to look frightening. Shepard noticed Fori was armed, gun and shotgun, and she had indeed Solana with her. Shepard didn't know the expanse of Solana's biotics, but turian ones weren't powerful in general – Saren was an exception. Shepard clenched her fists. She wasn't bad herself either if it came to that.
"Major Fori," she saluted, "what can I do for you?" Fori's eyes narrowed on Shepard and she apparently decided to be straightforward too.
"Spectre Shepard, Spectre Vakarian, the Hierarchy is requesting your assistance," she said, barely opening her mouth – Turians didn't use their mouth to modulate sounds likes Humans or other species and consequently didn't have to open it most of the time. They did it to express different emotions and intentions, in general.
"We take our orders from the Council," Shepard replied, folding her arms and falling to a hip. "I thought I'd made it clear last time."
"We both know the Council cannot be involved in this affair," Fori calmly insisted. "This request is connected to the recent events on Tuchanka. The Hierarchy would like to hear your version of the story, since no report has been released."
Shepard would have loved to tell Fori to go fuck herself with her request and to remind Fedorian he wasn't her boss, but that was the anger speaking. The request was polite and justified, so there was no reason to search for trouble. Shepard turned nonetheless to Garrus, to see what he was thinking about this. He exchanged a look with her and slightly shrugged. Nothing suspicious. Shit.
"Okay, fine," Shepard sighed, "but I'm going to complain the whole time."
"I wouldn't have expected anything else from you, Spectre," Fori replied. That bitch, Shepard thought, smirking. "This way," the Major continued, opening an arm.
Shepard followed Fori and Solana out of the Alliance part of the docks, Garrus just behind her. People were looking at her and she didn't blame them. The first human Spectre with three Turians on an election day, that was hella suspicious. Besides, Turians were even less appreciated than before on Arcturus Station since the arrest of several high ranked Alliance members a few months back. Shepard just hoped being in such company would discourage any journalist waiting for her after customs.
Wishful thinking didn't work, of course. As soon as Shepard passed the well guarded customs, a dozen journalists jumped on her back, their hovering cameras already rolling, screaming their questions more than asking them.
Shepard had a conflicted relationship with the press. The Alliance made sure each and every of their heroes appeared on the news. It was part of their effort to promote colonization and the constant progress Humanity was making throughout the galaxy. She had had to do a lot of interviews and press conferences after Torfan, and she had hated every minute of it. She always had been blunt and suspicious of people, and she had never been trained to talk to the press, so of course the experiment quickly turned to hell. The question rained on her, she hesitated, her words were twisted, and in the end she just told the journalists to go fuck themselves.
Her heartless and ruthless bitch reputation came from those days, actually. A clever asshole had found the "Butcher of Torfan" nickname for one of his headlines and it still stuck to her to that day. What had they expected, really? She was twenty-four, it had been her first real battle, seventy-two hours in Hell, more dead around her than in her worst nightmares, most of them because of her dumb orders, and three days later she was shaking hands with officials and pushed in front of the cameras because she suddenly was a hero. "Murder gets you places," Magos had told her a few months ago on Omega. He couldn't have been more right.
Shepard's second confrontation with the press happened shortly after her nomination as the first human Spectre. The Council would have liked to keep it as discreet as possible since Spectre were special agents dealing with their most sensitive problems, but "someone" had tipped the journalists off and Shepard had been outed in a matter of hours. The Alliance had then made a big deal out of it because the rabbit was out of the hole anyway, and Goyle, then the Earth ambassador, had more or less helped Shepard in her battle against the press. That didn't prevent Shepard from punching Khalisah al-Jilani and breaking her nose – twice.
So Shepard's relationship with the press wasn't good. She usually avoided those vultures and made sure nobody would know when and where the Normandy was supposed to dock – her work required a lot of discretion after all and she didn't mind threatening officers of all species to help them keep their mouth shut either. She kept her visits to the Citadel or Arcturus Station as short as possible, arriving unannounced and leaving before anyone could read the name of her ship on the hull. But she couldn't win every time, especially not a day like this one. The election had drawn half the galaxy's journalists to the station. Shepard was surprised to not hear al-Jilani's voice calling her over the others, to be honest. She scanned the small crowd while repeating she worked for the Council and had no comment whatsoever to give them, and her eyes caught the round and smiling face of a brunette staying a little outside of the circle. Oh. Diana.
Having three Turians with her actually paid off. Fori took a step forward, all tall and frowning, which was enough to discourage a few journalists. Solana, hood low on her face, gestured to Shepard to keep moving and Garrus pushed her gently, shielding her from the questions as Fori started to give a "this is none of you business" speech. Turians didn't like the press in general. Information was strictly controlled within the Hierarchy. Everything not relied by the official channels was dismissed. It was one of the downside of their society, a very big one from a human point of view.
They soon reached the turian part of the docks and passed the guards in full armor, weapon within reach, that assured nobody would try to enter without authorization. Shepard would have kissed those guys if she had had the possibility.
"Shouldn't we wait for Fori?" Shepard asked as Solana kept on walking.
"She'll follow us," the biotic replied without even looking at her.
"Isn't her presence required for the meeting? She's guilty of having sent Victus on this mission even if he wasn't ready for it after all, right?"
"Oh, she figured it out," Solana mocked.
"Yeah," Shepard said on the same tone, "she's not as dumb as you'd think."
Solana snorted.
They soon stopped in front of an impressive frigate bigger than the Normandy, with red paint underlining her strong plating. Shepard could read "Heta Saramin" near the nose of the ship, both in Kaladran and Standard. Solana aimed for the airlock without hesitation.
"Wait," Shepard stopped her, "I'm not going anywhere."
The Cabal agent shook her head, a little annoyed. "We're not leaving the station," she said, acid. "The meeting will take place in comm room."
"That'd be nice to have a little intel, you know?" Shepard remarked as she walked up the ramp.
"Aren't N7s supposed to be ready for anything, anytime?" Solana replied.
That had to be a day for throwing Turians against the nearest wall, Shepard decided. She looked at Garrus over her shoulder and gave him a supportive smile when he caught her gaze. She totally understood why he wasn't eager to talk to his sister.
The inside of the Heta Saramin looked a lot like the first Normandy – or, to be accurate, the first Normandy had looked a lot like the Heta Saramin, which wasn't surprising considering all Normandy class Alliance frigates had been based on turian Heta class ships. The communication room was behind the CIC, down a few stairs, in a circular room but it didn't look like what Shepard remembered. Instead of a few hologram stations, the whole room was a quantum entanglement communication device and already working nonetheless. A dozen Turians were "present" to the meeting, their holograms much more colorful and lively than what could have been produced on board the Normandy SR-2. Shepard glanced at Fedorian, standing on the opposite side of the room. Quantum entanglement was a very new technology, one of the rare ones developed by Humans capable of rivaling with the rest of the galaxy's. Cerberus had been the first to use it for their communications and to manage to put one in a spaceship, the SR-2 Shepard had stolen less than a year ago. That meant someone had been awfully nosy.
"Spectres," Fedorian saluted.
"Primarchs," Shepard replied while Garrus gave a more formal salute in her back, fist on the chest and all.
A quick look around told her Solana had disappeared, and that high ranked Turians liked their robes. On the dozen summoned, eight of them wore the purple robes of the Primarchs. That was a good indication that the situation was serious. Considering Turians' social hierarchy was military-based, this assembly looked a lot like a martial court. Something was telling Shepard that Fori had crossed the line too many times.
"Thank you for joining us," Fedorian continued, hands in his back. Like we had a choice, Shepard thought. "As you certainly know, we would like to hear what happened on Tuchanka when you rescued the Ninth Platoon led by Lieutenant Tarquin Victus, under Major Fori of the Seventy-ninth flotilla's order. I trust you to tell us the truth," he added as he looked at Garrus, "regardless of your allegiances."
So Fedorian believed Garrus would try to cover Fori's ass, Shepard understood. By doing so, he'd have to lie, which would assure him troubles at some point. And they obviously couldn't ask for a moment to talk about what story they'd present to the court. Something was weird though. Why send Fori and Solana to get Shepard and Garrus here? They all could have conspired on their way to the Heta Saramin.
Ah, Shepard thought as she sighed, the jury had already decided Fori's fate, probably while she was on her way to the Normandy. Then Shepard and Garrus' testimony was just for the show.
"Garrus, go on," Shepard said as she folded her arms and took a step back. "I got knocked down and I don't remember everything so my statement won't help much."
Garrus nodded and started to talk in front of the assembly, his back so straight it must have hurt. Shepard didn't know if he had decided to lie but she certainly wasn't going to let him down. She wanted him to talk first in order to stick to his story when her turn would come. She'd take the blame if someone smelled their bullshit. She was human after all, not to be trusted, and she could easily have commanded Garrus to lie.
Garrus spoke for twenty good minutes, adding his thoughts and conclusions to his story and even re-enacting their banters – that was just embarrassing. Shepard remembered hearing Garrus yelling at Solana at some point but he didn't talk about that. He even hid the fact he was related by blood to the biotic sent on this mission. That upset Shepard a little but he was somehow right: that had nothing to do with their current problem.
Shepard's testimony was shorter. She retold the key points of the events but didn't go into details, using the excuse of her concussion to explain her limited memory. Then came the time for questions and debates. The first to talk was a Turian in a black robe, with some sort of funny bonnet covering his fringes, chaplets of black and white pearls dangling on one side. Turians liked their uniforms, it gave them visual clues to figure out which rank their interlocutor had, but Shepard had never seen such disguise before, and nobody cared to give her names and functions. He was the only one to wear black in the assembly though. The three other remaining had light armors on, three different combinations of color so three different regiments, but one of them wore the black and red armor of the Seventy-ninth flotilla.
"Spectre Vakarian," the Turian in black said, his voice higher than what Shepard had expected, "you said you suspected Lieutenant Victus to be too inexperienced for this mission and it turned to be true. You've served twelve years under Major Fori. Is she familiar with this kind of methods?"
"Yes, Sir," Garrus replied. Shepard frowned a little. She had hoped he'd use a title.
"And we all know she gets her results with those methods," one of the Turians in armor interrupted, clearly annoyed. "The Hierarchy has been on her ass for years for her disrespect of the rules but you still count on her to forge the best soldiers we currently have. You have one example right in front of you," he said, pointing at Garrus. "Vakarian is one of the youngest turian Spectres ever nominated and that's certainly not thanks to C-Sec's training."
"I agree," one of the Primarchs on the left said, raising his voice. "Fori never failed us, she always insures the mission's success. The kid may have been unsuitable for Tuchanka but Fori's recruits did the job nonetheless."
"Well I had to call Spectre Shepard to clean up the mess," Fedorian reminded everybody. Shepard would have liked to remind him it didn't exactly happen like that but a look to Fedorian informed her now wasn't a good time to speak, so she kept her mouth shut.
"Spectre Shepard and Spectre Vakarian did help, it's true," the other Primarch said, "but they didn't do all the work. Their arrival put Fori's team back on track, they restored a clear hierarchy within what was left of the ranks, but the job was done by that Cabal agent named Kan."
"Yeah, Fori's toy saved the day," another Primarch snorted. "We cannot tolerate to have a Cabal agent freely roaming the galaxy with an even more crazy bitch. This has to stop."
A few heads agreed but the Turian in black intervened. "Watch your language, Primarch Icci," he said. "This is a matter for another day and another council. Primarch Dilomen, please, continue."
The Primarch interrupted by Fedorian spoke again. "My point is, the mission was a success, once again. Fori never lets us down. Her attitude annoys you, very well, she annoys me too, but she is one of the bests, training the very best. I'm more concerned as to why Lieutenant Victus was under her command. Fori handpicks her recruits but Victus has been pushed on her laps by you, Rear Admiral Enett."
"I'm in charge of the Seventy-ninth flotilla," the Turian in red and black armor replied. "I saw potential in Victus and made sure he would be in an ideal environment to express his talents to the fullest. Fori is my subordinate, I can place whoever I want under her command."
"You recommended Tarquin Victus for his next tier each time you could," Dilomen said.
"I did," confirmed Enett.
"And you're a friend of General Adrian Victus, father of Tarquin, aren't you?"
Shepard was a bit lost – and uninterested – but Garrus' sudden attention for the conversation kicked her curiosity. Primarch Dilomen was trying to save Fori's ass by accusing Admiral Enett to have pushed Tarquin Victus up the social ladder because he was a friend of the kid's father. Helping your friends' children getting their first job was kind of usual for Humans, everybody relied a lot on their network, but it was almost a crime for Turians. They had to earn their tiers, prove they were worth the responsibilities. The best way to piss off a Turian was to imply they had cheated one way or another to gain their tiers, every Alliance soldier knew that.
"Spectre Shepard," the Turian in black said, catching Shepard off guard, "Spectre Vakarian, you may leave. Thank you for your cooperation."
"Anytime, Sir," Shepard replied, "but just call me on the Normandy next time. I have one of those fancy quantum entanglement communication device too after all," she added, glancing at Fedorian. He smirked in the distance. They saluted and left.
"Well that was a waste of time," Shepard ranted once out of the communication room, Garrus just behind her. "I could have sent them an email or a recording, 'would have been the same."
"Those can be corrupted," Garrus said, "not this kind of video conference."
"Have you been studying quantum entanglement on your spare time, Vakarian?" Shepard asked innocently.
"During my time in the army, yes. Well, the theory back then."
Shepard looked at him for a second and sighed. She had to go easy on the paranoia. The Turians certainly had had access to human technology but that was years ago. Oh well, that wasn't her problem and she certainly wouldn't alert Anderson or anybody else. There was no sign of Solana or Fori around but Shepard didn't really care. She was done with that, as far as she was concerned.
"That guy is eying you hard," Shepard noticed as she walked to the airlock.
"It's a woman and, huh, I know her," Garrus replied.
"Oh, right," Shepard realized, "you must know a lot of people on this ship. Well, we're on shore leave so you can stick around and say hi if you want." It would be better, actually. Shepard was sure Diana was still around, waiting for her, and, knowing the reporter, they could easily end up in the closest hotel to fuck their brain out. It would be easier for her if Garrus wasn't towering over her, studying Diana as a potential threat like his usual self.
"I don't know," Garrus shrugged. "I asked for a leave and never went back nor gave news so..."
"Well it's the perfect occasion to apologize for your shitty attitude then," Shepard decided. "Laters!"
The look of utter betrayal on his face almost made Shepard rethink her strategy but she forgot her guilt once out of the turian part of the docks. She had been right to ditch Garrus. Diana was still here, waiting for her, with her usual very short skirt and very, very low neckline. It was all a game, she had told Shepard once at breakfast. She played on her appearance to distract and surprise. Shepard was the living proof it worked.
Diana was otherwise rather petite and had a coy smile, with adorable cheeks and sharp blue eyes, the only feature betraying the bloodthirsty shark she was. Diana was a war reporter working for the Alliance, so her job was to basically do propaganda and glorifying traumatized soldiers. Shepard didn't meet her because of Torfan though, but on shore leave on Arcturus Station years later. An Alliance goon had grabbed a waitress' ass in a bar, Shepard had punched the guy in the face to teach him some respect, and Diana had offered her a drink and a pocket of ice later. They had spent the rest of the night fucking like crazy in the nearest hotel. Shepard had only learned who Diana was when she saw her on television a few months later but they never brought work in bed. That was what Shepard really liked about Diana. Jobs, careers and reputations were forgotten when they enjoyed each other's company.
"Hi," Diana saluted as Shepard came to a stop next to her. "It's good to see you, Commander."
"Allers," Shepard replied with a military nod of the head. They both fought their amused smile. "Where is the rest of the venue?"
"They're never far, and they'd die to have your opinion on the results of the election. Udina won, by the way."
"Well shit," Shepard grunted. She looked around and indeed saw a bunch of journalist gathered around what looked like an Alliance uniform. The coast would be clear for a minute or so. "I suppose my budget will be drastically cut."
"That and much more awaits you," Diana said. She reached between her breasts with two fingers and took out a small plastic rectangle attached to a key chain with a little glass sphere dangling from it. "For you," Diana added, placing her present in Shepard's hand.
"What is it?"
"My music collection. I told you I'd give you a copy, remember?"
That made no sense at all so Shepard considered this piece of plastic had much more importance than it looked like. "Are you in trouble, Diana?" Shepard asked on a lower voice, leaning a little toward her friend.
Diana raised a hand to touch Shepard's cheek and smiled. "You're so sweet, darling." She gave Shepard a quick smack on the lips. "But you should really worry about you, not me."
So this stick was really important, Shepard realized. "Thank you," she said as she put it in her pocket.
"The scary Turian is coming back," Diana replied, taking a step back.
Shepard looked over her shoulder, expecting Fori, but the Major wasn't alone. Garrus was with her, walking a step behind, like he usually did with her. Shepard didn't like it.
She had to admit they both could be impressive – except that she knew Garrus was a nerd obsessed with his toys. Both were pretty tall and looked massive in their armors, but the uncomfortable feeling Humans had around Turians was caused by their eyes. Much like birds on Earth, Turians could "zoom" on something thanks to a complicated muscle network shaping the eyeball, which gave their eyes that distinct predatory intensity most aliens didn't like. Shepard had learned to ignore it and had even mocked Nihlus a lot for squinting so much.
Fori didn't seem happy at all, Shepard noticed. "You should go," she warned Diana.
"Don't mind if I do," the brunette agreed. She squeezed Shepard's arm gently. "Be careful, Jane."
"I will." Diana smiled and swayed her hips as she left – Shepard found it difficult to focus on something else at that moment. Damn, she'd tap that, but her timing was awful.
"Spectre Shepard," Fori called from a distance.
Shepard turned to her and decided to play it cool. Fori was angry but Shepard didn't have much to do with that. Whatever the conclusion of the previous meeting, she had only testified and was not responsible of Fori's previous deeds. Ultimately, the Major had dug her own grave.
"Major," Shepard saluted as Fori came to a stop way too close for her tastes.
"How dare you?" Fori spat, looking at Shepard from her high tower. How dared she? How dared she what?
"I'm afraid I don't follow," Shepard replied politely.
Fori grabbed her by the collar and Shepard suddenly felt very small and fragile in her uniform. She gathered energy in her clenched fists, just in case.
"You let Garrus on his own on my ship," Fori growled. Oh, so it was a security problem. A few apologies should do. "And you call yourself his mentor?!"
"Huh, sorry, what?" Shepard frowned, truly surprised. "I don't see how..."
A punch interrupted her and threw her on the floor. Shepard rolled on the metal plates by reflex and jumped on her feet in an instant, spitting a mouthful of blood. Everything hurt for a second but Shepard knew how to keep the pain at bay when needed. She contracted the muscles of her right arm, preparing a biotic throw to even the score with Fori but Garrus was suddenly kneeling in front of her, his hands on her shoulders and blocking the view. Shielding her again.
"Shepard, you're okay?" he asked anxiously, but he didn't wait for her answer and turned to Fori. "Elin, what the fuck?!"
Shepard snorted. First names, huh?
"Shut up," Fori spat with disdain. "She should have been with you and you know it."
"It was between Sol – I mean Kan and me, Elin," Garrus replied as he helped Shepard get up. "It was long overdue," he admitted. Shepard swapped the blood on her chin with her wrist. So Garrus had tried to talk to Solana? And Fori didn't seem to know Garrus and Solana were siblings. That was trouble material alright. "The press is coming," Garrus added as he looked over Shepard's head. "Let's pass customs, they won't be able to follow us."
"You coming, Fori?" Shepard asked as Garrus pushed her forward. "We have a score to settle."
"Go fuck yourself," the Major replied as she turned heels.
"Will do!" Shepard laughed, knowing fully Turians saw masturbation as something pathetic and almost shameful for an individual.
"Don't push it," Garrus warned her in a whisper. "She's capable of shooting you in the back."
"That doesn't surprise me at all," Shepard mocked, blood and saliva escaping her mouth again. She tentatively touched the cut in her mouth with her tongue and winced. Her left jaw hurt like a bitch and she was also bleeding a little on her right temple. Fantastic. "What happened with Solana?" she asked nonetheless.
"We argued," Garrus grunted, "and we may have started a fire in the ship."
"Well I'm glad you didn't talk on our way back to Palaven then," Shepard snorted. Fori's anger was easier to understand though. A fire in a spaceship, even docked, could have terrible consequences. "You okay, big guy?"
"She said, bleeding all over her uniform. I'm not the one injured, Shepard."
"Pfff, this but a scratch." She saluted the Alliance soldiers at customs with a big bloody smile. Those assholes didn't even move when she got attacked, but at least they'd keep the journalists at bay. "I won't force you to talk, Garrus," she eventually said, activating her omnitool, "but you know where to find me if you feel like it, alright?" He nodded. Good. That meant they'd get drunk in the near future. Shepard didn't mind at all. "EDI," she called through the radio, "call everyone back to the ship, we leave ASAP."
"Yes, Commander," EDI replied.
"Something came up?" Garrus asked.
"Udina won the election."
"So what? You work for the Council."
"Yeah, but he often forgets that," Shepard snorted, "and I don't want to give him any idea. We're leaving Arcturus Station before he can come here and remind me I'm Human and I owe the Alliance a lot."
"What about Kryik and his drell spy?"
"Myeah, what to do about them," Shepard grumbled.
Udina was going to cut her budget at some point, it was a question of weeks or months, no doubt about it. Shepard wouldn't cooperate with him so he'd attack her the only way he could and that was the money. The Alliance paid for the soldiers on board, from their salaries to their food and everything in between. Even with her pay, Shepard couldn't afford all of that because being the proud owner of a war frigate was freaking expensive. She could sell her apartment on the Citadel but that would only push the problem to another time. She could fire a few people, Westmoreland, Campbell, Daniels, Donnelly, Cortez, Gardner, they'd just be transferred elsewhere, but she already had a skeleton crew and that would only put more pressure on the others. She could also fire her own employees, like Williams or Wrex, but she wouldn't save much. Wrex practically worked for free – as long as he was fed and could go on a mission once in a while, he was a happy Krogan – and the two thousands credits of Williams' pay wouldn't change anything. Fuck, Shepard thought, she'd have to take Nihlus' deal. Two millions and a half per month – plus half of his bonuses, she decided – for tolerating the Drell on her ship wasn't that bad. She'd find a way to keep Kryos in check. Heck, she could wait to be in a remote system in the Terminus, throw him by the airlock and tell Nihlus his friend had died during an assault or something. That wouldn't stop her from sleeping at night.
"Can you do me a favor?" Shepard asked over her shoulder as they walked in the Normandy's airlock.
"Of course."
"Go tell Nihlus I take his deal and get him out of here." She really didn't want to see that fucking asshole now. "I'll be in Lab2 for some stitches."
"No problem," Garrus agreed. "Take your time, I'll deal with the preparations for departure with Joker and Javik."
"What would I do without you, Vakarian?" Shepard teased.
"You'd be dead," he joked. "Three times, at least." Shepard laughed, staining her uniform with even more blood.
Solus wasn't behind his computer or anywhere near his shiny machines when Shepard entered Lab2. Instead, she found him lying on his reclining chair in the back, what was considered a bed by Salarians.
"You okay, Doc?" Shepard asked. "I can come back later if..."
"I'm fine," Mordin replied, standing up with some difficulties. His knees and back cricked a little. "What can I do for you, Shepard?"
She opened her mouth wide, blood and saliva running on her chin again. Solus chuckled before showing her a stool where she sat diligently, her feet hanging in the air. Mordin sat too and looked at her mouth.
"Need stitches," he confirmed before pushing a box of tissues in her direction. He then stood up to fetch his medical tools. "Marks on your cheek consistent with turian fist. Nihlus?"
"Garrus' previous mentor, actually."
"Ah," he smiled knowingly.
"He called her by her first name," Shepard commented, swapping her chin, "so, you know, they banged."
"Jealous?" Mordin teased.
"So jealous!" Shepard mocked, hands up in defense. Now that she was thinking about it, Solus knew a lot about Turians too. Maybe she wouldn't need to talk to Saren after all. "I also need your infinite knowledge, Mordin," Shepard continued, throwing the tissue in a trash can. "I know the relationship between a mentor and their protegee is very strong in current turian mainstream culture, but can it go beyond admiration and respect? Isn't it simply love?"
"Love nothing more than reaction to specific chemical components," Mordin replied, taking back his material to Shepard. He sat and showed her a syringe. "Local anesthetic." Shepard nodded her consent – she had had to clarify a few things with him after Tuchanka. "All species wired differently," Mordin continued, fixing a medical tread to a little hook, "and produce different hormones. Some have equivalents through most species, adrenaline, testosterone, oxytocin for example. Different names and chemicals, obviously, but automatically translated to equivalent nonetheless. Makes you think everybody secrete same chemicals. But," he said, starting the stitches, "not accurate, of course. Feel anything?"
"Hun hun," Shepard managed to answer. Mordin smiled and continued his handy work.
"Oxytocin usually responsible for feeling of attachment. What conditions a mother to be attached to her children, for example. Largely different in Turians. Oxytocin released when in group, because means security and comfort. Explained by pack mentality prevalent for most of their evolution. Basically, group more important than individuals. Salarians familiar with the process too, experiment same feeling toward clan." He took a look at the stitches. "Looks good." Shepard touched her cut with her tongue but the area was still numb.
"That doesn't explain what's going on between a mentor and their protegee," she commented, rubbing her jaw. It was a little swollen now.
"Oxytocin level skyrocketing in this situation," Mordin explained, throwing away the used medical supplies, "in both mentor and protegee. Create very strong bond."
"So it's love." Her cheek felt a bit weird when she talked.
"No, oxytocin alone not responsible for 'love', even in Humans. No equivalent chemical mix in Turians. I insist, they simply do not experience the feeling you call love. It doesn't exist for them."
"So what?" Shepard insisted. "How am I supposed to call it and deal with it, exactly? Because between Nihlus going all psycho at the idea of killing my clones and now Garrus being all weird, I could really use a break."
Mordin shrugged. "Normal behavior for them. Idea of you being hurt intolerable for Nihlus because of your bond. Feeling extended to your clones."
"They're not me," Shepard sighed. "They're just girls who look like me."
"Didn't say it was logical," Mordin replied with a sorry smile. "Didn't notice anything weird with Vakarian though. Not feeling guilty about being a 'bad Turian' anymore, found security and comfort in crew, came to like you and know your limits. Attempts to humor you part of his personality. Often have the occasion to speak with him. Quite fond of his sense of humor."
"So I'm just imagining things," Shepard sighed. She didn't know if she felt relieved or disappointed. Not that she absolutely wanted Vakarian to fall for her, but her ego could do with a little compliment now and then.
"What things?" Mordin asked.
Shepard looked over her shoulder, just in case the door would suddenly open. "I thought he was flirting with me for a moment," she admitted, now embarrassed. "It's childish, I know, but it was kind of flattering to imagine Garrus Vakarian, lover of no squishy alien, being interested in me."
"Flirting quite normal between friends for Turians," Mordin reminded her, "but, can provide help." He stood up, hand on his knee. Shepard opened wide eyes when the Salarian knelt before her and took her hand. "Jane Shepard," he said, looking at her with his big amber eyes, "you are definitely an interesting human being and I would seriously consider you as a potential mate if I ever were interested in cross-species coitus."
"Oh my God," Shepard laughed uncontrollably, tears in her eyes. "That's the most romantic thing a Salarian can say to a girl!"
"It is," Mordin replied lightly, patting her hand. Then winced. "Shepard," he said, suddenly serious.
"Yes?"
"Might need help to get up."
"Sure thing, Doc," she chuckled, "sure thing."
TBC