Once he'd finished helping patch up Frank, he left Nalah and him his private quarters. While Garrus offered to escort them home, he was silently relieved when they declined. The place was hardly a home anymore, more like a dilapidated pit used to recharge on rare occasions. With Derius's death, the two needed some time alone; yet he wanted them to remain within the team's reach. There was a darkness in their eyes – a sickness of the spirit that concerned him.

What he didn't expect when he arrived in the upstairs bunker, slumbering men scattered in the nearest available bunk, was a solitary figure propped up in a wheelchair overlooking the bridge. The atmosphere was dark, thick with a palpable unease. If he slashed through the air, all talons and claws, he wondered if it would cut the air. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Wha?" Krul spun around in his chair, nearly tipping it. Apparently, he'd unintentionally gotten the drop on the spook, something even he hadn't achieved before.

"Old human idiom."

"Yeah. Okay."

As exhausted as he was, being in command often meant dealing with the his men's personal crap. And despite the fact that he'd never admit it, Krul was higher maintenance than the lot of them. "Alright. What's going on man? I have neither the energy or patience to beat around the bush. So, out with it."

"It's nothin'."

"Sure doesn't seem like nothing." For a couple minutes, they fell into their old routine – staring one another down until the batarian inevitably relented.

"Oh fine. You're worse than …."

The prolonged pause grated on him. "Than….?"

"Jane."

"I caught some … tension down in the mine. Not just between you and Weaver but Jane was avoiding you. Didn't even look at you once. Want to tell me what that's all about?"

"Why didn't you tell me she was biotic?"

"What does that even matter?"

"You didn't think to tell the guy who knows the Hegemony inside and out that the slave we rescued had batarian-made biotic implants? You'd have to know, that salarian's too sharp to miss it and I know Nalah forwarded you her medical records when they were short on meds."

"Again," Garrus growled, losing his patience. "What does it even matter?"

"Those powers. That accent… I know where she was being kept. I didn't put all the pieces together until earlier but dammit, I should've seen it sooner, would have if it wasn't so absurd."

"Okay… I admit to being curious. But she already told us about being raised in a military base. I gather it's more than that?"

Krul snorted and looked away. "That what she called it? Yeah. I can see how she'd think that."

"… And? I'm not getting any less tired here."

"Place called Datmar, I originally learned about it during my years in the Intelligence and Communications Bureau. That's where she was. It's more of a lab than anything. Bunch of sick fucks experimenting on kids, turning them into powerful biotics. They mostly use humans as lab rats thanks to our alarmingly similar physiology, but the special ones they put to work."

"I gathered that it was a lab of sorts… did… did you have a run in with her? Is that what this is all about?"

"A run in… yeah you could say that. We used to raid that place. Every few years we'd get a handful of kids out. Made damn fine troops too." Seeing the clear disapproval cross his face, Krul added. "Don't give me that look. It was a war. And they had a much better life with us, the experiments ended, even if it meant they didn't reach their full potential." A sigh. "Then we started meeting heavier and heavier resistance but we still managed until… a human girl I'm almost positive was Jane. She was tasked with guarding the grounds, her and a group of kids. Although, she was the ring leader. Fuckin' hell. A run in is an understatement. I sent some fine soldiers into that gods-forsaken jungle and … so few came back. Most never even got close, those blasted kids would drop biotic bomb strikes and simply annihilate people. She was such a thorn in my side, I ordered snipers to hide in the cliffs, wait for her morning patrol and… well… take her out. But they were clever little shits. The pack of kids orchestrated a diversion while Jane snuck around behind my men's line and slaughtered all but one. And damn did she scare the living crap out of him. Told him never to trespass on the morta nil again or she'd teach him the meaning of fear. Before he died, he told us a wild tale about a crazy, red-headed girl with more power than she knew what to do with. The girl never drew a weapon, not even sure she had one. To this day, I still don't know how she managed to get the drop on my guys. Damn kid must've moved like a penaska. Anyway, that was the last time I tried getting in, lost too many troops to her. So, we withdrew and I figured I'd just wait her out. Eventually she'd get killed on a mission, die in the experiments, or wind up euthanized for being too much trouble. Besides, I had more pressing matters thanks to Victus and that stick up his ass."

Garrus's craw constricted, thrumming against his hide. Killing his men? That was an irreparable rift if he ever heard it. "This … this gonna be a problem Krul?"

There was pregnant pause, rife with anxiety. Krul rubbed at his legs which had grown stiff from long hours in the chair, easing some of the tension in his muscles. "No. She didn't have a choice, I know that. The Hegemony is efficient when it comes to breaking the minds of its people and goading them to do their bidding. And if that weren't enough, they keep shock collars on all the human kids and the batarian ones they don't trust. I'm not unreasonable. I understand. I may not like it, but I understand it. My point is, you have no idea what I'm getting at do you?" A searching glance. "Yeah. That's what I thought. Not a clue."

"Then enlighten me." He relaxed, reclining on the sofa, legs angled in such a way that his spurs didn't catch on the fabric.

"She's probably the most powerful human biotic in existence. Do you have any idea what that means? How much does this Anderson fellow know? And how much do you trust him?"

"Shepard trusted Anderson. He's alright."

"That's not what I asked. But it answers my question. That was a foolish risk and it's too late to do a damn thing about it. We can tell no one about her. And I mean no one. You think The Alliance won't salivate at the notion of getting their hands on her? The human military will see a weapon, a tool to be used. The Hegemony will see her as a security leak."

"I doubt..."

"Don't be naive, boy!" His hiss was low and guttural. "You better be damn sure no one knows shit about her, it'd be a shit heap we couldn't deal with. The Alliance would treat her like a lab rat to try and replicate the results in their own soldiers. And the Hegemony would drop a bomb on this place before they let their biotic secrets leak out, especially to the humans. Screw the wrath of Aria. They'd roast that blue bitch along with the entire station. You think I'm a hot item to hide? Just wait 'til they get a whiff of her."

"First off, Anderson doesn't know much and he was basically family to Shepard. I may not be privy to the details, but he lost a son the day the Normandy went down. You can't fake the grief I saw in that man. He'd never betray that. But… I see your point. You'll be happy to hear almost no one knows about her thanks to some political bullshit. She's still listed as dead. No one other than the team, a close friend, and Anderson are aware she exists."

"Keep it that way. I mean it. We can't take on an army here. And that's exactly what we'd be facing if either government learns about her. I don't know what shady-ass, backroom deals went on for her to be sold but …. it shouldn't be possible. If anything, I'm shocked. I need some time to … wrap my head around it. That soldier I mentioned? The one she let go? He died in my second's arms, foaming at the mouth from a native poison. But she made certain he'd live long enough to deliver the message. As a mere child, she took out three full grown soldiers with biotics alone and stabbed the fourth with the nasty end of a vonkush beetle. Talent like that? No way they'd let her slip through the cracks. No matter how much I pour over the possibilities, it still doesn't make a lick of sense. She should be dead. They keep a tight leash on their biotics. Either they live in service to the Hegemony, escape to the Resistance, or die. And she damn well didn't join up, even with thousands under my command, I'd have heard about that. She was known."

Garrus rubbed the back of his fringe, as fascinating a tale as this was, he'd lost nearly two pints of blood, and been deprived of a decent rest for over 48 hours. The fatigue was palpable. "Wait, if she was fighting actual soldiers, how the hell doesn't she know what shields are?"

"You think we had access to tech like that on Kar'Shan? My guys planet-side were in armor and armor alone. Anything else would get picked up much easier on energy readouts too. Fuckin' turians. We don't all have it easy."

"Alright, alright, sorry I asked. Since you know so much, have any reservations about her joining the team? She's been pestering me and after today, I wasn't planning on saying no. We could use the firepower. But if she's that much of a security risk…"

Krul shrugged. "On Omega, most'll just assume she's using red sand or some shit. Plus, in a group, it's not always easy to discern where the biotics are coming from. We can easily make it look like her powers are combining with another's if it's even relevant – it's not like we're in the habit of leaving survivors. Doubt that'll garner much attention so long as she doesn't keep going around announcing she's morta nil."

"What does that even mean? My translator doesn't pick it up right."

"You really letting her on the team?"

"Haven't seen a reason not to. She can clearly handle herself. And what, are you saying you wouldn't tell me otherwise? Shouldn't I be the judge of that?"

"If she's just some messed up kid living at our base, it's none of your business. If she's on the squad, in combat, you gotta know your people. And morta nil is… not a good word." He paused, thoughts shifting behind dark eyes. "It's… I suppose your people would call it spiritless."

"The spiritless are psychopaths with no regard for life." Garrus leaned forward, interrupting angrily. "I don't see Jane that way, not even a little bit."

"Keep your damn pants on. I'm not saying she's that way and it isn't a direct translation." Krul sighed. "It's more like hopeless, not evil. A person robbed of what makes them who they are – like the soul died and the body kept living. For I am morta nil. I am nothing from nowhere. I do not fear death for the abyss has already taken me. I don't remember the whole damn poem but that's a few lines. What a depressing author, that one. Then again, so are most literary dipshits in the Hegemony. Not like we spend much time admiring sunshine and butterflies."

Garrus felt his mandibles flex and clench against his jaw, but kept his voice even. "So what can I expect from her in combat? A disregard for her own life? That's not a selling point. And in the spirit of fairness, that is not what I saw earlier."

"There's a difference between not fearing death and throwing one's life away. You don't fight the way she did, have the grit to survive what she must have, or hell, opening up the back of her head to implant a control chip? That's… arduous in the extreme. She chose a difficult path. She chose living where dying would have been an easy way out. Nahh. She's not a risk in that way. I explained it because you asked. And because she needs to shut the hell up about it. I doubt there are any other human biotics alive going around calling themselves morta nil. It kinda sticks out."

When exhaustion finally overcame him, Garrus excused himself and slumped into the closest bunk, mind spinning, not quite ready to settle in for sleep. Commanding a team of males was easy. With the exception of Krul, any issues that surfaced were addressed in a simple, straightforward manner. He'd bring them out for a beer and a friendly chat until the alcohol eased them through the issue. Another approach would be on the mats. Supervised sparring was a great way to dissolve grudges, vent pent up anger or stress, and everyone felt a bit better after a good dose of endorphins or, in the case of turian physiology, lunkan ditras. In fact, that was exactly what he planned on doing with Weaver tomorrow. Yet, somehow, he didn't think either method would be the best approach for Jane.

But one way or the other, he'd have to address this morta nil crap. To use his former commander's jargon, Jane was a tough nut to 'd bonded a bit in the Talon's now dilapidated base. She was good company and as it turned out, they had several things in common – the love of a good fight for one, pride in coming out the other end of a battle, relishing in a job well the inhibitor chip removal, she'd been much more at ease. Smiles were no longer a rare sight. Even her eyes seemed less while he generally disliked becoming involved in other peoples' business, Jane was a conundrum, an interesting puzzle to unravel. Maybe it was another sign of rebellion against his turian nature. She was small. Fragile. Everything a good turian was taught to loathe. And yet she'd survived horrors that would tear apart the most seasoned veterans. That level of strength was due respect.

One could attribute her survival to the unworldly power she possessed, certainly. But there was more to it. A lot more. Mordin kept him apprised of the situation while she was on the table. Encephalomalacia, softening of brain tissue, had begun forming around the chip, a sign it'd been in place for years. While the doctor repaired the damage, once again proving his uncanny intelligence, it made the surgery a delicate, and dangerous process. He'd been beside himself, angry at his failure, stressed over the notion that Jane could die on the table. There were moments he found himself wondering if Shepard would reach from the afterlife to gouge out his eyes for bringing the Blood Pack down on his sister's head. He wasn't a religious man, but the imagery was a tad disturbing none-the-less. And Mordin would probably never forgive him. Even now, he could hear that shrill, salarian voice in his head. 'Could have died Archangel! Have half a mind to call Alliance. Find out who she is. Get her home. Body language suggests telling the truth, would be dangerous for Jane if I did. Still, take better care of charge. Your responsibility.' Hah. That salarian will be doubtlessly pitching a fit when he learns she's on the team and accuse him of using her for his own agenda. What a fun conversation that will be.

Before sleep took him, Garrus made a mental note to ask Nalah after she wound down. The woman had insight that he learned to value. And she'd all but adopted Jane. If anyone knew how to approach this issue, it'd be her.

A/N: This chapter was originally supposed to be over 5k words as I intended to get things moving and reach part 2 before LE came out. However, life had another idea so it'll be split up. (I wrote this weeks ago but it's my last 'complete' chapter. The other one was probably getting broken/split anyhow.)

I've been pretty sick, which is why I've been gone. Just going from the couch to the bed right now. So, thank you for your patience. I'll be back when I can think straight again.

I also wrote and corrected this note on my phone. So, let me know if I made any egregious errors.