Garrus wasn't certain how to go about questioning Jane. While he didn't want to come off as intimidating and scare the crap out of her, he needed to get to the bottom of this. If it were one of the guys, it'd be easy to ask if they had been hiding a fellow member's secret identity. Hell, he'd barrel into the room demanding answers. But this was a different matter, delicate. And it didn't help that the entire team was lurking in the living room, waiting for an explanation with baited breath.

Back at the bar, Ripper had a point. He'd been tip-toeing around Jane, so concerned with frightening her that it was preventing him from getting to know the person she was. It was also the reason he missed this connection between her and Krul entirely.

He stood at the threshold to Jane's room, a single hand raised to knock. However, the next thing he knew the door flew open and she was standing there looking up at him expectantly.

"How did you…."

"You guys aren't exactly quiet."

"Right…."

Before he could utter another word, Jane blew past him, her eyes darting across the living area. He had to give her credit, she was bold. One would expect an injured, tiny woman who spent the past 14 years in captivity to be timid. Yet, she couldn't care less about his large, towering presence or the group of armed men strewn about the living room. And she spared the bloodstains nothing more than a passing glance.

"Who are they?" She spun back around to face him, thumb pointing in the direction of the base's newest residents. "And where's Krul?"

"Right. This is Weaver and Mierin. We've been working with them this past month. They helped with the raid."

The two men awkwardly waved from their position on the sofa. Jane simply nodded in recognition.

"Krul's target... That was today wasn't it? Seriously, where is he?"

Now that he was hyper-aware of her every movement, trying to unravel the mystery, he started picking up on subtle cues. Her eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly. She was on edge, more-so than he had seen since she came to live at the base.

"He's alive."

"Barely." Ripper cut in from the couch.

"We got him to Mordin, but Ripper's right, things are pretty grim. We're not sure if he'll make it."

Garrus allowed her to absorb the information for a moment. If he didn't know better, he'd guess that she was indifferent. That's what was so odd about her – she didn't react to things. Her every movement was careful, guarded.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She turned to leave, as if she couldn't reach solitude fast enough.

"We can talk in private if you prefer but Jane, there are things I need to ask you."

She answered without the slightest hesitation, her voice dull. "That's fine."

When he arrived, she had already situated herself at the end of the bed, resting her elbow on one knee, the other bent under her in an incredibly unnatural looking position. "Just ask what you need to ask."

"I have this inkling that you knew him before meeting us..." Garrus trailed off.

For awhile, she didn't acknowledge the question. Her expression was hard, unreadable, maybe even a little cold. "I owe you everything. My life. Sciffy's life. But this, I…." Her voice caught, filled with a shocking amount of emotion. That facade of cool indifference was cracking.

"I've done things that, never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined myself doing. By protecting him, and following through with his mission, I betrayed my own government. But you'd still be on The Ubralle if it weren't for Krul. I owe him a lot."

"No. I'd be dead. Yet, that seems more like my debt to pay." She paused. "Those new guys, can I trust them?"

"I wouldn't let anyone harm you. You know that right?"

"That's not what I'm talking about. But I uhm appreciate you looking out for me." The tiniest smile tugged at one side of her face. "Answer me this then, why does everyone hate the batarians?"

"You're joking right? I'd expect you'd know better than anyone. You were enslaved by them for most of your life."

"That was The Hegemony. Not the batarians. Do … do people really not know?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about. So, I suppose not."

She sighed. It was a heavy, weary sound. "This is such a different world than I imagined. Everything I thought I knew is…mutated, wrong. The universe I know is inside out. I'll tell you the whole story. By the four, I'll tell all of you if you promise to have some patience."

"Patience?"

The hesitation returned for a moment. "I'm not used to other species' languages yet."

"Wait, is your translator glitching? Because, we can fix..."

"It's not that." A dismissive wave of the hand. "Batarian language is more expressive, particularly in the eyes. There are little clues to meaning that have no sound. And you have to pay attention or cause grave offense. Without…. It's like talking with half the audio, I never know the meaning behind words these days. Well, except Krul. Even then... I'm not… it's been awhile since I spoke at length with anyone. Chipped slaves aren't exactly conversationalists." She was staring at her hands as she fidgeted, rubbing her thumbs across one another.

"Jane, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, if you hadn't just told me all that, I never would have noticed. You speak incredibly well – better than Ripper, that's for sure. I didn't expect that. Hell, I'm not sure what I expected when I found you. But certainly not a whole person. You've been a pleasant surprise."

"I… wasn't always on that ship." She looked away. "Plus, I've been studying human vids. Guess it's helping."

"I think you give yourself too little credit. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about."

"Maybe you're right. Either way, Krul owes me a bottle of shard wine and I could use some liquid courage for this one." Without another word, she abruptly moved towards the door. Each step silent, deliberate against the hard tile. Despite the brace, there was skill in that stride, training perhaps. Mierin was right. There was a lot more to Jane Shepard than met the eye.


At Jane's request, Ripper had retreated behind the kitchen counter in search of alcohol. Garrus gave up on keeping the team dry. Dawn had crept in hours ago, yet they'd been awake all night. For them, it was an evening after a long, grueling mission and an emotional roller coaster. He was refraining from imbibing, however. Someone had to keep sharp. Plus, the hostages still needed to be dealt with. The mission wasn't finished for him yet.

"I's found… beer, beer, and more beer." Ripper emerged, triumphant. "You know what they say. Liquor before beer and you's in the clear."

"No batarian shard wine?"

"You's drink that swill?"

"It's my favorite. Beer tastes like moldy, old shoes." Jane wrinkled her nose as if the offending taste lingered too potently in memory.

Ripper ducked back into the cupboard and pulled out a dusty, old bottle. "Krul's been hidin' this. If he cares, wells, I'll jus' tell 'em that's what he get for scaring us to death."

"He'll make it."

"You's think so? Lost enough friends." Ripper fidgeted with the glass necklace that hung around his neck. Ashes. That's what was in the miniature jar – his friend's ashes.

"That old bastard isn't going anywhere. Trust me, he's survived worse."

"Alright, I have to ask, how old is he?" Garrus cut in.

"Older than any of us."

"You know, that's the exact same thing Krul told me when I asked."

Jane loosed a soft, gentle laugh and took a long swig from her mug. Garrus watched as the skin on her cheeks flushed the same color as her hair, disappearing those odd reddish-brown spots that were scattered across her face. "Well, he's been fighting longer than any of us have been alive. At least I think. How old are you Frank?"

"Wha? Oh. Uh fifty-four."

"Yup. He's way older than that, has to be." Jane trailed off. "I don't really know where to start. I do better at answering questions…." The entire team had settled in the living area. Despite her choice in professions, it was clear she didn't enjoy being the center of attention. She shifted nervously. Every member had a drink in hand, but Jane was clinging to hers like a life raft.

"How about his real name?" Garrus offered.

"Ikalem Cod'gohal – The Man of Many Faces. But never use that name. Never. Not unless you want the entire Hegemony to squash you like a bug."

"I know Separatists are hunted by The Hegemony and declared enemies to the stability of the batarian government but..."

Jane snorted derisively. "Good. The batarian people deserve better than them. Hope he bombed them back to the stone age on his way out."

"I don't get it." Frank interjected. "Didn't the batarians own you? Why the hell are ya defending them?"

"You know, the kids I grew up with were batarian, as is my best friend. They had nothing to do with what The Hegemony forced on me."

"Okay, the kids I get. But didn't their parents own you? Wasn't that weird?"

She cocked her head and stared at Frank for a moment, before swiveling her eyes around the room as if she was searching each face for an answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was firm, determined. "No. The kids I grew up with were in the same boat as me. You think The Hegemony asked their parents nicely before dragging them off to biotic death camp? They were stolen from their families same as me. Same as all of us. People don't even know the basics out here do they?"

With silence serving as her only answer, Jane reached for the wine bottle and refilled her mug. She quickly drained its contents and repeated the gesture. Garrus felt a pang of guilt. This was obviously difficult for her to talk about. Yet, at his request, she was preparing to lay the entire story bare. "Take as much time as you need."

Her back was against the couch, opting to sit on the rug instead of the furniture. He watched as she sipped the wine, slowly rubbing her free hand into the carpet.


Part of her couldn't believe she was even considering this. If she was wrong about them, about Garrus, she'd betray everything, everyone. But if Krul was here, he needed help. They all did. She shuddered. "Promise me this. All of you. Promise you won't use this information against us."

"Us? Wait were you part of …."

"No. But Krul's mission is the only thing I ever believed in. I know you probably think I'm crazy but Kar'Shan and its people were home for me… for a very long time. And I care what happens to them."

"I think we can agree to that." She watched closely as Garrus turned his gaze to each team member – a silent ask.

These new guys hadn't earned her trust. Yet, despite his lies about Jimmy, Garrus had. From the first day she laid eyes on him, there was a fascination, an implicit trust, she placed in the turian that she couldn't fully understand. Trust wasn't something that came easily to her. The steel predator Jane thought with no small amount of affection. She waited until the entire room nodded in ascent. Their expressions cautious, curious.

"In order to understand who Grundan Krul is, you first have to understand what it's likes to live in The Hegemony. It seems the galaxy doesn't even know who or what they are. You think the batarian's free?" She glanced at Frank. "No. They're exploited, beaten down, and kept in the dark. Most of the population doesn't even realize it can be any other way. That it's different in other places." She swirled her drink round and swallowed, with each gulp heat crept into her cheeks. "There's no extranet there. Schools are run by The Hegemony. You learn one way of thinking and one way only. It's not like here – here I can go online and look up anything my imagination desires, somethings I didn't even know existed. I've read about wars and entire alien cultures. I've explored cities with the touch of a finger. On Kar'Shan everything is monitored, filtered. Even books and movies are banned. I watched a comedy last week – that one with the lard ass who gets married and his family spends the entire time arguing. I knew a kid who was executed for watching that film."

"Spirits." Mierin looked as though he saw a ghost, mandibles clenched tightly to his face.

Paying no heed, Jane barreled forward, determined to paint a picture of the world she knew. "You can't go anywhere in the cities without The Hegemony watching your every movement. The streets are lined with these poles. They have cameras at the top, and they're not just to monitor slaves. Every batarian's features are carefully logged by the government. It's where Krul's nick name comes from. Rumor has it he went through countless surgeries to change his face and remain off The Hegemony's radar."

"They don't use DNA tracking?" Garrus interjected.

"I…. don't know what that is. Ask him about it. Okanna knows I have no idea how he remained hidden. The only thing they really have is music, even then, a lot of bands are underground. Illegal, sure, but The Hegemony doesn't usually go after them. They only really allow classical music. But television? Movies? Books? All forbidden on threat of death."

"This is crazy. Why doesn't the population revolt? Surely they wouldn't stand for it. And if billions rebel, no government can withstand it."

"They do all the time. But if you're caught, well, The Hegemony has strict laws of inheritance. Your sins are your children's and their children's sins. Working against them means endangering your entire family. And trust me, they're not shy about butchering little babies either. That's if you're lucky. The rest are simply sent to the mines, they don't hesitate to collar their own. Most just keep their head down and hold on to what they have. I'm not sure how many generations it takes to wipe the slate clean but it's at least four. And even then, you're stained. Dirty. There are lesser offenses of course. Like, if your great great grandfather flipped off the wrong general, you've probably lived your whole life in a slum."

"This is…."

"Unbelievable." Mierin finished.

"Believe it." Jane bit out. "I never knew a batarian who'd been off planet. Most don't even know other intelligent life exists. And if they do, they keep to themselves."

"Wait, aren't there millions of slaves there?"

"Yeah but we're not given translators and a lot are chipped. Their whole religion is centered around species with fewer than four eyes being animals. Most don't know we're intelligent. There are higher end slave owners and other parts of the country that seem to know we're sapient but the majority of the population doesn't have a clue."

"You speak Rishini though right?" Garrus questioned. "Surely other slaves learn the language as well."

"I'm not sure about the others. But I wasn't treated like the average slave. They figured out I was biotic right away so I was sent to a military base. My bunk was in the same space as the other kids. You talk. You learn." Jane snagged the wine bottle and peered through the top. "Damn I'm almost halfway through."

After pouring another glass, she continued. Her eyes far away as if she weren't speaking to anyone at all. "I wasn't sure it was him at first. In fact, I thought I had just gone crazy. It's been a long two years. But … what he said… god is dead and we killed him. I've read his work. That's something he wrote – something he tried to do…"

"Kill god?"

"Prove that their leader isn't a god. The Hegemony is ruled by a single family, their line is thought to be descended from Okanna herself. The eldest son takes over as ruler when his father dies. Supposedly souls are shared or some shit. I don't remember the whole thing but they're believed to be living gods."

"Wait, is he… he's.. the leader of The Separatists. Of course he is." Garrus groaned. "After today, I should've seen that coming."

"I suppose you'd call him a philosopher. Reading his books were like opening my eyes for the first time… I… I'm not sure who I'd be if it weren't for Krul. He lead a nation on nothing more than idea, recruited the dregs of society and sent them after The Hegemony. He armed their castoffs, encouraged the beaten. Drug addicts and prostitutes with nothing to lose flocked to his cause. The Hegemony robbed them of everything but their lives. And Krul gave them the tools to fight back. Thousands followed him, maybe tens of thousands. He's been at it for at least sixty years. Their raids are legend back on Kar'Shan. Growing up, he was a ghost story. Something they'd tried to scare us with. But then… Then I learned better."

She shuddered, the hand on the bottle was trembling violently. Another few gulps quelled the offending limb. "He never would've abandoned his people. Something terrible must've happened. My best friend joined The Resistance as did every kid I grew up with who was worth a damn. Since stumbling into Krul here… of all places..." She choked. "Not a day goes by where I don't wonder what became of Balya or the rest of my friends."

Garrus was quiet for awhile. Yet, despite not having much experience with turians, she could read the nervous shifting, that slight quiver in the mandibles. "Before he killed Thralog, he spoke of thousands dead."

She cracked. The burning darkness that sat in her chest bubbled out, threatening to explode. A steadying breath. Weakness has no place, she shoved it down, swallowed it whole. "How many?"

"Close to six thousand." She felt his clawed hand, surprisingly gentle, rest on her shoulder.

"P-p-please I have to see him."

Garrus gave her shoulder a tender squeeze before pulling up his omni-tool. "We can check in with Mordin. It's been what? Six hours? Maybe he has news."