The weeks passed. And Krul threw himself into a secret project, completely overtaking Jane's room in the process. Bits of wire, metal, and discarded circuitry cluttered the desk. The only thing Garrus could identify, before the batarian threw him out that is, was a Faraday cage. A copper-aluminum mesh was being constructed around large, metal towers. Whatever it was, was designed to last.
Then, after relaying the situation to Jane, he shipped it off to Tuchanka, piece by piece - presumably as each segment was constructed. She seemed to be growing increasingly bewildered with each package. And, on occasion, could be overheard arguing with the batarian in the early morning hours, long before the world had awoken. Krul would stay up all night to catch her before she left for the Wastes, revolving his entire schedule around hers. She had earned a place as the female clan's huntress. And was a large source of meat for the tribe. It lead to long absences from her home-base, making communication even more spotty than usual.
"The fuck am I gonna do with all this tech shit Krul? When you said you needed help, I thought it'd be a map or something. I barely know how to work my omni-tool, much less how any of this shit works."
"Just hang onto it. Keep it safe. That's you're only job."
"What good is a bunch of luggage if I don't know how to use it?"
"Still got that chip I gave you?"
"Yes..."
"It links to that."
"You said the chip was in case I ever got recaptured by the Hegemony. How does..."
"If the Hegemony ever catches up to you, you hook up that chip and it'll lead you… it'll lead you to where you need to be. Or, barring that, plug it in before the damn reapers get to the milky way."
"Gee. Nice and cryptic. And how am I supposed to know when they're going to arrive?"
"It's a judgment call Jane. The technology needs time to evolve in order to be useful."
"Evolve? What the shit is this?"
"A tool that will help with the reapers. That's all you need to know."
"So, can I assume it leads to the Resistance?"
"In a sense."
"Fine. Whatever. But when this goes wrong because I don't have proper instructions, don't come crying to me. You're lucky I have a sizable room instead of that cubby at the old base. This shit's almost as big as me."
"That's really not saying much short stop."
A few months, and a fortune in tech, later Garrus brought the guys out to Afterlife. It was a thinly veiled excuse to get Krul out of the base and away from his brooding. His spirits lifted while constructing whatever he sent to Jane, but now that the project was finished, he began day drinking and yelling obscenities at the TV. (Apparently the Bruisers were a bunch of fucking idiots to lose to the Watani.) And if that weren't enough, Ripper's version of consoling involved shots. A lot of shots. They sat side-by-side at the bar locked in a drinking game that Krul only paid the barest attention to. Probably on purpose. At least he was out of the base. A modest start. But a start.
"I take it you're not imbibing Melenis." The drell peered at him with his eerie, dark eyes. Ruddy irises nestled in midnight.
"That is correct. The body is a temple I would not sully it with intoxicants. Although, I wish to partake in the, shall I say, bonding rituals."
Mierin chuffed into his beer. Liquid seeped out the sides of his mouth plates as he attempted to control the laughter.
"You might want to refrain from using that particular phrase around turians." Garrus explained through his own amusement. "It's how we refer to the first night after a… uh… marriage ceremony."
"I see. So, it signifies copulation."
The pot boiled over then. His fellow turian threw his head back, roaring with laughter loud enough that he almost missed it - a sharp keening cutting through the thrumming base. His eyes snapped to Mierin, guffaws dying instantaneously. He caught it too. Somewhere, a turian was getting his ass beat. Badly.
Their sidearms were snatched to their talons. And the rest of the men followed suit, having learned to trust Garrus's instincts.
They rounded the corner, pushing through the crowds. Even the humans could make out the sounds now. Butler's knuckles were white against the rifle grip. Two sets of stairs and they were right outside the offending room. Heavy blows. A wail. And if Garrus wasn't mistaken, the distinct and unnerving sound of hard turian bones cracking. The door sprang open, revealing an odd sight – two krogan were tossing a turian back and forth like a rag doll, his moans skittered across the floor along with a modest amount of blue blood. On their heels was a vorcha, desperately trying to break up the fight. "No hits! No hits! Had enough!" The creature hissed, clawing at the mercs. They shoved him off. His small body slammed against the far wall. Yet, it scarcely phased the thing as it quickly leaped to its feet, shotgun in hand. He pressed it to the krogan's side and pulled the trigger.
The lizard roared while grabbing him by the neck. Before he could deal the final blow, Garrus intervened. One bullet through the zygomatic arch. Another to the back of the head. Brain stem. And the first krogan crumpled. His men were on the second in a flash. Their reflexes, honed under his strict tutelage, bringing a swift end to the merc. When all was said and done, he turned his attention to the turian crumpled in the corner. He'd fallen unconscious at some point and Garrus took the opportunity to get a good look at him. Strangely his outfit, a purple ensemble with black stripes, was that of a bouncer. The Blood Pack rarely picked on employees of Aria. Hell, no one messed with Aria's people. No one. Even he knew to avoid her crosshairs. These details were absorbed in seconds. Or, at least, before the vorcha began dressing the turian's wounds. A dismaying sight.
"Uh… little… guy." Garrus started. "We can patch him up."
"Me helping!" The vorcha hissed, proffering several moldy bandages and blood-stained antiseptic wipes.
"Yeah… He needs something cleaner than that or he'll catch an infection."
Surprisingly, vorcha listened - quickly moving out of the way while grumbling weak weak. But it didn't leave. Instead the creature chose to hover, and watch his every move. It made his plates itch. In all his years, he never once met a vorcha who was more man than beast. They were violent, vicious, and prone to attacking without discrimination.
Erash prodded him in the shoulder, bringing him back to the present. He handed over whatever medications and instruments the salarian requested, and before he knew it the turian was looking worlds better. "Not too serious, aside from a cracked cowl. Always a problem when a dextro breaks bone, but this is merely a hairline fracture. Will need time to heal. Still, should be fine. Unconscious due to fainting, not blunt trauma." Erash brought a whiff of strong antiseptic to the turian's nose and he sputtered awake.
Bits of blue flecked his gloves as he helped the man sit up. "Where? Where am I?" A hoarse voice inquired.
"Among friends." Garrus kept his voice level.
The turian groaned in response.
"How'd you wind up in this situation?"
"Damn krogan were getting handsy with one of the dancers, and in my endless brilliance, I tried to throw them out."
Garrus almost laughed at that. Boot camp may be mandatory, but there were always a few outliers among the masses who were not physically inclined. They'd usually wind up with the more menial jobs after graduation – janitor, short order cook, etc. And this guy fit the bill. He was much shorter than average, with a frail frame and minute cowl. How he thought to be a bouncer was beyond him. "Bit off more than you could chew huh?"
"I didn't think I'd actually have to fight when I took this job. Usually, the threat of Aria is more than enough. And she's my employer! Well, if you remove several middle men. Guess those krogan didn't get the memo."
Garrus helped him to his feet. "How about your friend here?"
At that, the turian was clearly puzzled. His mandibles tittered a bit. That odd angle of the brow-plate. "I don't..."
"Means me!" The vorcha, silent but definitely not forgotten, spoke for the first time since Garrus and Erash took over fist-aid. "I help. Vortash help you. Tell him I help."
"Uh… Yeah. He did help me. When the krogan attacked, he tried to stop them."
"Haven't met him before though, have you?" Garrus didn't need to ask, but chose to anyhow.
"No."
"But I help you. Archangel. I help." That last bit was practically wailed. Such a grating sound in a vorcha-throat.
"Hey, I'm not going to kill you." Garrus said.
"No care if you kill me! Want to join squad!"
A blink. There was no room for words in his shock.
"Want to kill Blood Pack! Me helps you! Vortash helps!"
"That's nice…. But we're not really recruiting."
"Have intel Archangel. Give. Give! No care if you kill me! No care! Just kill Blood Pack! Yes?"
It was a pity that confusion and utter shock couldn't be weaponized, as he was dumbfounded. A pillar of salt struck speechless. The vorcha pressed a data pad into his talons before loping away. Literally. He ran on four legs, arms extending to the ground unnaturally, producing an odd, lopsided gait. Fast but oddly unnerving. He had never seen a vorcha run before.
"What a weird fucking day this is." Only then did Garrus remember himself - that he was basically holding up another turian, not unlike a fledgling. If he could hazard a guess, this guy had never been wounded before. Pushing off with no small amount of embarrassment, he seemed to gather himself. "Sorry. Uh."
"No problem. That was certainly… different."
"As if that wasn't obvious." Krul barked out stiffly. Too stiffly. There was more under his belt than he could handle, that was for sure. And Garrus wondered when he arrived, as he and Ripper had been sitting apart from the rest of the squad. "Finally figured out where you guys went. Found a fucking anomaly of evolution."
"Back upstairs. We'll talk about your entering what could've been a battlefield, inebriated, later."
"Seriously? It's a fucking night club."
"On Omega ."
"Gods knew you had to be turian. No other kind of kid would be so uptight." Krul spun on his heel, hands above his head, and marched back upstairs
Leaving him to the matter at hand. "Anyhow, I'm Castor. And this is Erash, Weaver, Mierin, and Melenis. You're welcome to join us at our table while the medi-gel sets in. We'll protect you 'til you're back on your feet."
"That'd be nice actually." The man was standing but remained a bit wobbly still.
Garrus offered a hand as they made their way to the club floor. "Don't believe I caught your name."
"Lantar." He took his talons in his own. Firm shake. "Lantar Sidonis."
They settled back around the table, sans Krul who rejoined Ripper at the bar. Everyone seemed to get on well with Lantar, who turned out to be a security tech before arriving on Omega - working at AgriU no less, one of the companies that employed Frank back in the day. They hit off and exchanged contact information. He could use a second tech. Even if Sidonis was a far cry from the batarian's skills, he'd do in a pinch if Grundan was occupied. Not for combat of course. This guy wasn't cut out for heavy lifting. But there were a few tamer tasks he could use some help with.
Garrus was about to turn his attention to the datapad the strange vorcha gave him when his omni-tool pinged.
From: Raelzorah_vas_Rayya
To: Garrus_VK2180
Your inquiry into a member of the Migrant Fleet is highly unusual. We do not give out information on our citizens to outsiders. But I will make an exception for a pilgrimage friend. My daughter is busy with a task I assigned her, so you need not concern yourself.
She also told me of your mission on Omega. Might I suggest using your time to look into Zel'Aenik nar Helash. He defected during his pilgrimage. While we normally allow defectors to go their own way, Zel is another matter. His life choices are abhorrent, and he has become an embarrassment to the quarian people. I believe he fits your criteria.
Sincerely,
Admiral Rael'Zorah nar Zioma vas Rayya
Well, at least Tali was safe. That was one thing he could cross off his list. Three months with nary a word to him or Jane would change that conclusion though.
A/N: Almost forgot, I changed a few things in Chapter 39 to reflect minor differences in Jane's background. It was around a week ago. So if you're new, you may have read the up-to-date version.