Tuchanka blazed without mirth. Sweat trickled down her legs and her lungs stung with every breath. Plodding along after Wrex, Jane reached into her pack and retrieved a water canister, Garrus's warnings about staying hydrated chiming in her mind. The harsh, barren land was reminiscent of her own state of being, a dying world whose atmosphere was only made breathable thanks to the Shroud. Wrex didn't have many words for the domineering tower, but the few he possessed were enough to summarize his distaste for salarians and their trickery.
The giant lizard set a brutal pace. And as she trailed after him, the scorching sand swallowed her boots, leading her to feel as though she were squishing through a marsh. Sweat soaked her from head to toe, and she cursed the armor's necessity. Yet, without it, she'd turn into a deep fried lobster – maybe even a blind one considering her helmet was polarized. The sun glinted mercilessly off the never ending dunes, with no sign of shade. This planet was truly desolate – in ten hours she hadn't spotted a single river, tree, or even so much as a bug. Then again, with temperatures currently sitting at 119 Fahrenheit, maybe life was hibernating, or crawled in a hole to die. The spirits only knew.
On any other day she would've laughed at herself, having stolen a phrase from Garrus. But today her sole focus was forcing leaden legs forward, lest the unforgiving sands swallow her whole. And her dissident thoughts merely skated across the surface of her mind.
Eventually she found herself stumbling uphill, climbing a dune. Rocks jutted out of the sand, sharp and menacing. And she became grateful for the armor, heat-be-damned. Since the landing pad, Wrex hadn't spoken, other than barking out a few orders – 'left, right, that's not a rock but a roshmaw. You it'll swallow whole, lucky little shit. If it got ahold of me, it'd eat me alive while I watched it suck the marrow from my bones.'
Granted, there wasn't much time – or air – considering they'd been trekking across the desert on foot. Yet, she couldn't help but play the dutiful student, having been a turian's pupil since her rescue. "Soo… What should I be doing? When's my first lesson? Oh and can I get my knife back?"
Wrex's tail scraped along the protruding rocks, the only sound occupying the vast, empty space. If he heard a word, he gave no indication.
"Uhm… Hello?"
"Shit you talk as much as the quarian? We don't got time for that. You only need to know one rule. Don't stray too far from me and don't die." He paused scratching along his head plate. "Guess that's two but whatever. We need to keep moving, not much daylight left."
"You want me to stay alive but take my knife. Yeah. That makes sense."
"You get it back when I see somethin' other than a weapon behind your eyes."
Something in his tone told her to tread carefully. And so she fell silent, plodding along, breath coming in ragged gasps as she did her best to keep to his pace.
Her first day on Tuchanka taught her much about the planet. For one, it seemed to have a will of its own, and a miserable, menacing personality. The weather was merciless. What burned during the day snap froze at night. When dusk began to fall, the world turned gray from ash and dust. But then came the wind, a cold, harsh sickle of death that swept through the empty wasteland cutting her to the bone.
They set camp in the pit of a crag, the cluster of rocks providing a bit of shelter from the planet's rage. With only a few mumbled phrases, Wrex relayed her tasks and they went to work digging up old, rotten roots and half-petrified stumps, doused their prizes in ryncol, and huddled around the fire. She watched mesmerized by the flame, a memory trickling in of her and Sciffy on those gentle Kar'Shani nights. How alive, how vibrant, the jungle planet had been in comparison with this desiccated lump of rubble.
Jane pulled a bottle of water from her pack and turned to Wrex, a question on her lips. But the lizard answered before it had the chance to fall.
"Water's scarce in these parts. Save it for drinkin'. We'll find a river one a these days and you can wash off."
She nodded and began returning it to her pack, when a rough paw wrapped around her arm, stopping her.
"Whatever you do don't be stingy with drinkin', otherwise you'll get heat exhaustion. I'm carrying near fifty gallons right now. So, down the rest of that bottle."
She acquiesced, gulping greedily. Then turned her attention to her raw, chafed skin – locating the canister of talcum powder and cornstarch, along with the jar of petroleum jelly nestled in her pack's side pocket. Nalah had insisted on her bringing the items. And she had never been more grateful for the woman's hovering. She paused before peeling out of the armor, peering up at the giant lizard that had settled beside her.
Wrex rolled his eyes and turned his back to her as she stripped, rubbing in the soothing vaseline and dotting it with powder. The areas around her joints were the worst. Burst blisters weeping clear tears and bits of blood. And her arm's bandage needed changing if the sodden gauze was any indication. Yet, even after a day, she could tell it was beginning to heal without that wretched inhibitor. Once that matter was attended to, she diligently took the antibiotics and retired to her bed roll, dozing off to the tranquil campfire.
They continued like that for over two weeks. She knew at least that much time had past. Although she stopped counting somewhere around the sixth day, time blending and moving with the sands. So, perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps it had been months, and her mind was lost in the mercurial desert, adrift and inept to discern time. Somehow none of it seemed to matter. One foot in front of the other, her sole focus.
One night, having caught a glimpse of her vexed and bleeding skin, Wrex produced a rag, dabbed it with water and told her to take care of business before she caught another infection. Thus, sponge baths had been added to her nightly regimen. It was the last discernible night for awhile. Day after day. Hour after hour. They marched across the Wastes, surviving on the meals Nalah had prepared and the tank of water Wrex carried, with nothing interrupting the monotony. March. Shit. Eat. Repeat. Still, wasn't he supposed to be teaching her? Wasn't that the entire point of her being on this crap-hole planet? How long had she been here with nary a lesson? Her eyes bore holes in the back of his armor, anger and a sense of injustice growing with every step.
One night, completely out of the blue, Wrex pulled her out of the bedroll by her arm. She dangled over the length of him, groggy with sleep. His low, grating voice dragging her into consciousness. "Can I trust you?"
"Whaa?"
"Why'd you help Garrus with his mission?"
"What mission? He kills slavers and I hate them. I enjoy ripping their faces from their bones and their pathetic squeals when they see death knocking. It was fun. So, I did it."
Wrex guffawed.
"What's. So. Funny?!" She squirmed in his grasp, anger bubbling to the surface. A few seconds ago she had been asleep, her sole respite from this miserable place.
But he ignored her. "Didn't answer my question. Can I trust ya?"
"Haven't killed you yet old lizard."
"Bet you want to though huh? Gettin' tired of me marchin' you across the planet, eh girl?"
"What would I even do? You haven't taught me shit and you took my knife. Guess I could kick you and break some toes on that head plate. Woooo fun!"
Another round of laughter greeted her, solidifying her hate for this stupid lizard and his stupid planet and her stupid decision to travel to the ass end of gods-be-damned nowhere.
"You hurt one a'mine, and that's the end of ya. Hear me?"
"Yes sir."
"Stop with the sirs. Makes me feel old."
"You are old. Now put me down!" Her feet pressed against the side of his face, pushing with all her might. But she couldn't even force his head to turn. Finally he released her, and she crawled into the bedroll, hoping against all hope that she could find sleep again. The last thing she needed was to add sleep deprivation to her list of maladies.
Morning came in pink, vibrant streaks across the sky. An oddly beautiful sight on the planet she had grown to despise with the fury of its scorching sun. She settled in for another day of mindless trekking, of setting one foot in front of the other wondering what the purpose was, or if the stupid lizard simply got his kicks out of watching her suffer. Yet around mid-day, they halted. Wrex's eyes roved over the landscape. One scanned the horizon, while the other studied the perpetually transforming ground, sand moving like a wave. Satisfied, he reached into the fine grain and yanked a metal handle from its depths. As he pulled, the sun reflected off the steel, momentarily blinding her, and there wasn't time to regain her bearings. Rough hands shoved her into a hole, with little more than a 'hurry up.' And she stumbled down rock-hewn stairs landing flat on her belly, knocking the last bit of air from her lungs. God she fucking hated this shit-hole planet all the more because it was her own damn fault that she was on it. But before she could finish her inner rant, the stench of unwashed bodies reached her. And for a horrible second she thought she was in the hold of a slave-ship. The smell was certainly similar. Desperation, urine, and B.O.
Blinking furiously, eyes adjusting to the dim light, she gaped. Krogan of all shapes and sizes stood from wall to wall of the modest entryway. In her time on Tuchanka, she hadn't seen another krogan outside of Wrex. Yet, these were different from him. Instead of a large, solid head plate, theirs were divided into three lamellas, converging into a triangular point before giving way to a series of ridged, colorful scales. It took her a moment to realize that they were females and their young. The largest of whom leaned heavily on a massive cane, staring down at her sprawled out form. A wave of rotten breath washed over her as the krogan spoke in a broken, half forgotten dialect. "Dis the girl? She don' look-a she canna do-a much."
"She'll earn her keep," Wrex answered, lumbering forward past the welcoming party. "Gonna grab the inventory tally ladies then I'll be on my way. Tell the girl her place."
The crowd parted to let him by, and it was in that moment Jane realized what was happening. "You're… you're leaving me here?" She called after him in exasperation. But it was too late. Already, he was out of sight, leaving her slightly dizzy from the jagged change in events.
"Thiss-a right girl.'E not 'ave mucha time.'E gotta ride the daylight. Hundredda miles 'fore 'ee where 'ee need to be. Canna take-a sickly pyjack eh?" The old woman wheezed, answering for him, oblivious to Jane's sudden crash with reality. From Datmar to Dhay'Groppnah, an upper-caste brothel, she'd always been the best of the best. The best biotic. The best fighter. The best violinist. And the priciest, gold-tag whore. Whether it was something to be proud of or not, she always achieved the best. Failing, or even coming up wanting, had never been in her vocabulary, regardless of where she directed her laser-like focus. Even her eventual tumble into ship-slavery had been a decision in her hands, not something that spoke ill of her abilities. But Wrex had tested her endurance, and for the first time in her life, she fell short of the mark. How weak and pathetic was she now? Did Krappo take more than her dignity's tattered remains? Did those years steal what made her… her?
Her newfound humility did nothing to abate the anger, however. And she clenched at the pebbles where she lay, only returning to the present with the whack of a cane against her thigh. "Now come dissa way. Gonna show ya how we get on. Rations are how ya are paid, an' the more ya work, more ya get."
She lead her through a narrow passageway, eventually spilling out to a larger cavern bustling with activity. It took a moment realize, perhaps her eyes were still adjusting having been throttled from an unbearably bright landscape to a dim cave, but this place wasn't natural. Large metal columns extended into the rocky ceiling, then branched out to bear the weight of several tons of earth, and she shuddered to think what would happen should one of them buckle under the strain. A rhythmic tatta tattat tat echoed off the far flung walls. Her eyes, following the sound, spotted half a dozen females hovering over hap-hazard counter-tops, each having been carved from the rock itself. They were chopping away, tossing their finished products into a massive, steel pot. And utterly unconcerned with her presence.
"Ma name's Kiash. You-a 'ere to learn from me girl. Do as I say."
"You're.. a biotic too?"
The old women roared with laughter. It was reminiscent to Wrex's reaction to ninety percent of her questions and equally as grating. "No-a battle-massa girl. You dink the blood that'a travel to da head donna travel to da hands an' feet too?"
Whatever the fuck that meant. All Jane heard was more delays in her training. More time on this wretched planet.
Kiash directed her to the far side of the cavern, to a raised platform overlooking the cooks. Several massive wheels were clustered there. Each with long, thick cylinders extending from the wheels to strange, rusty machinery shaped like tin boxes. "Dese are 'ow we powa' the generators. You gonna run 'til you-a good for more. Then I show ya more." Jane watched as a couple krogan sprinted on their respective wheels, tightly gripping the handles, keeping them from spinning off and into the rock. They were smaller than the rest, and had neither a head plate nor a trio of lamellas. In their place were bits of bone-formations sprouting through some sort of membrane. All she could think were children. And young ones at that.
Kiash turned and hobbled down another tunnel, beckoning her to follow. This one lead deep into a cavern. Sounds grew muffled, along with Jane's sense of danger. It was the first bit of familiarity in a long while. Dark, enclosed spaces always spelled safety for her. Nice and hidden from the land's cruelty, just like her and Sciff's home on Kar'Shan. Although, their modest hut was nestled much closer to the surface than this bunker which must've delved hundreds upon hundreds of feet into the earth.
The sleeping quarters were a dingy space, merely a cluster of mats strewn about a handful of rooms, but not the worst place she'd ever slept in. "Gotta claim ya own conna' girl." And so she did. An out-of-the-way mat in an area that seemed too slender for a krogan drew her in. It had a small cubby carved out of the earth a couple feet above the ground. She crammed her pack in before Kiash lead her back to the main room.
The smells of cooking wafted over her now, and she realized how hungry she was. Kiash shoved her towards the table, a half-rotten slab of wood with a dozen stumps that served as seats, and plopped a bowl of something in front of her. Jane skeptically turned the food over with a wooden spoon a few times before bringing it to her mouth. She'd eaten much worse things after all. And it wasn't so bad. Bland. Some sort of meat-veggie thing stewing in its own juice, but it was sustenance. That was all that mattered. The drink, on the other hand, was disgusting. A brownish-red liquid that tasted closer to vinegar than water. She grimaced on the first sip and would've put the mug down, opting for her canister of water if Kiash hadn't placed a aging-paw on her shoulder. "Drink up girl. Thiss-a veetamins you-a won't get under dee ground." So she gulped it down, hoping that the acidic liquid wasn't about to turn her insides to mush.
A few of the women protested, clearly upset that she was receiving free rations. And for a moment, Jane hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to stand out, or for the others to think she was receiving special treatment. That never went over well. But Kiash remained calm, pointing to the giant wheels and back at her as she spoke her broken words.
Jane let the meal settle for a bit, opting to krogan-watch while she digested. The women were hissing between their large teeth, conversing among each other in their foreign dialect. A few sideways glaces. A few wandering younglings were redirected, away from this strange, alien in their midst. They didn't trust her. They probably didn't even want her here. Not that it mattered. She was stuck until whenever Wrex deigned to return for her sorry hide.
Turning from her audience, Jane stripped, and carried her soiled under-suit to the wheel Kiash pointed out, neatly folding it alongside the contraption. The air was static, but as she walked, it was akin to a breeze and she revelled in its coolness. Modesty seemed a trite issue living among strange aliens with whom she could scarcely communicate, and something she was accustomed to shedding. Besides, if she could hazard a guess, these krogan had never seen a human before. They probably had no idea regarding which parts were which.
She stepped onto the wheel. The only mobile part was a large belt, built to fit a krogan. Two metal hand-holds were welded into the stationary sides. She used them to pull herself up, and began a brisk walk before breaking into a steady jog. Despite being butt-naked, her tits didn't bounce and slam. Yet another reminder of how much less of her there was. At the very least, she'd be ready when Wrex returned.
Later that night, long after she retired to her mat, she was rudely awakened by Kiash smacking her with the cane. To add to her misery, apparently she only produced enough Joules for a fistful of food. The amount was scarcely filling. And not knowing how long she was going to be there, she really didn't want to consume the rest of her ration packs. They were well-preserved, small, and easy to store. Not to mention each bar contained 30 grams of protein and nearly four-hundred calories. Both of which she was in short supply of. A third whack had her fully awake. And she moaned into the darkness.
"Gettup gurl." Kiash grated. "You-a smell so bad the others canna sleep."
Jane merely groaned in response, too sore and exhausted to bother.
From somewhere near her feet, one of the women grabbed her ankle and simply dragged. Jane instinctively kicked at her hands and hopped to her feet the moment they yielded.
They lead her to an alcove behind the kitchen, with a slanted floor and grate. It was clearly meant to drain water and for a glorious minute, Jane thought she was about to have a shower. A hot, steamy shower that she could revel in. It was a luxury she grew far too fond of on Omega but damn if she didn't miss it. Kiash handed her a bar of soap and a damp cloth, and Jane immediately went to work sudsing up, not leaving an inch of skin unattended. Then came reality. Without so much as a grunt, the other krogan picked her up and unceremoniously plunged her into an ice cold barrel of water. Fuck me sideways with a chainsaw.
Instantly, her teeth began chattering, her hands violently shook. Kiash, true to her nature, roared with laughter. "Eyya thought you-a were a mammal. Donna your blood run hot? Me-a thought you-a take this better than a squalling baba."
Not wanting to listen to her hosts' amusement, or leave with soap-cached hair, Jane bent her knees sinking to the bottom of the barrel, fully submerging herself. At the very least, the two women had a dry towel ready for her when she finally hoisted herself out. Although, by then, her hands were trembling so violently that it took a couple tries before she managed it.
The towel was immense, clearly meant for a krogan-child three times her size. She did her best not to tumble on its length as they lead her back to their sleeping quarters. Before retiring to their respective corners, they proffered another dry bit of linen, which she greedily accepted and laid across her mat, a guard between clean skin and the plethora of dirt that wormed its way into every crevice. Regardless of the lost sleep or inability to find it easily once more, she ran her legs across the dry cloth, giddy with cleanliness. Sleep was elusive for other krogan as well, and upon sensing the movement, she spoke.
"Where you from Pyjack?" The un-named woman croaked.
"I dunno."
"You… don't know? Was your clan wiped out when you were very young or somethin'?"
"I.. yeah I guess you could say that."
She rolled over, laying atop her massive belly, yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Sounds like my clan. They were butchered years ago when Warlord Crug took over." Unconcerned she continued, tone nonchalant, as if she were speaking about nothing more important than the weather. "Wrex told us ya may be the only alien to understand the krogan, little else. Not sure I believe it, but a deal's a deal."
"What deal?"
"He liberated us from various warlords, and I guess we have-ta prove our loyalty 'fore we can join Urdnot. Only reason I can think-a for why's you're here."
"What. Deal?" Jane persisted.
"Oh, we-a had to agree not ta eat ya. Never had bald pyjack a-fore. You seem too gamey for the pot though. Notta ounce of fat on ya."
"Thanks… I guess."
"So what your name? Since we-a stuck together, might as well get friendly."
"Jane."
"Amata."
She more felt than saw a massive paw reach towards her in the pitch-black. They met somewhere in the middle, bumping fists and leaving it at that.
Jane still hated Tuchanka. But she found one positive in the sea of shit, at least they didn't eat her.
Fuck me sideways with a chainsaw.