XxX-XxX-XxX

Official Supporters:

Fanatical Fucking Reader, ScrubLord Yoda

Compulsive Reader, The Impossible Muffin

Commissioner, Gib, Espacole

If you want to be on the Supporter list, PM me for details or join our private server for details. Hope you enjoy reading my stories, please leave me a comment to let me know if you did, or where I can improve. Link here, where able to be seen : /2UZncAm

Second link here, remove ( and ) and it SHOULD work : D(i) (slash)kfhkfUb

I have a kofi account now, too, under this name for those interested.

Beta(s) :

XxX-XxX-XxX

Requested by :

Espacole

XxX-XxX-XxX

Pyrrha wasn't exactly surprised when a dozen men and women found the time to stare at her and her dolley laden friend as her group wound its way through the Normandy's halls. Even if Grunt's growls and stares sent most back to whatever they were meant to be working on, she knew they were the center of attention. And as used to being trapped there, up in front of everyone, as she was, she still despised it.

But she'd tolerate it for Legion…

"Commander Shepard wishes for you to bring the Geth to the briefing room." EDI chimed quietly as Pyrrha stepped into the elevator, intent on taking them to her quarters while she dealt with Shepard.

"Fine." Pyrrha sighed, rolling the dolley back out while Grunt rumbled a low, agitated growl. "Grunt, if you want to go and get something to-"

"Not a chance, Battlemaster." The Krogan rumbled, shoving her aside and shoving the dolley ahead of her to cut her off before she could argue.

"Krogan are hard to get respect from, but loyal as hell when you get it." Kasumi chuckled a few moments later, once the Mistralian had watched the Krogan vanish around the corner into the laboratory. Pyrrha sighed and turned to see the thief shrug and smile, "He'll stick with you until you do something to make him stop, but that might not always be fun…"

"Friends can be loud and noisome, yes." Pyrrha smiled, thinking of a certain ginger she'd know… Dark Brother, it had been nearly a year now, she was fairly certain. Shaking of the weight that put in her gut, she smiled, "But in the end, they're at your back, and that's the nature of the exchange."

"I guess…"

"You disagree?"

"No, no, not really. I mean kinda, but… Ugh." Kasumi waved her off, taking the lead as they made their way to the conference room. "Let's just… Say I don't do the whole friends thing a whole lot and move on. Bigger fish to focus on right now."

That was more than true enough, and to that end, Pyrrha reached out to smack the green holo-release on the conference room's door.

Shepard was waiting for them inside, sitting in a comfortable looking Cerberus chair on the end of the long table opposite the door. She was still in her armor, too, aside from her helmet which sat on the edge of the table in front of her. Right beside the long form of her sniper rifle, apparently cured of its previous problems and resting threateningly between the two red-haired women.

"Okay, well, the rifle's out so I'm gonna-" The door sealed before Kasumi could slip out, the lock glowing a threatening red as the woman pivoted on her heel and chuckled awkwardly. "I'll just, uh, find a nice spot to sit, is what I was going to say."

"But there are no other seats, Friend." Penny remarked quietly, standing beside the door with her hands folded behind her waist and smiling thinly. "Commander Shepard appears not to have provided us any…"

"No." Grunt growled, leaning against the wall on the other side of the door with a heavy clang of metal on metal. "She didn't."

"It doesn't matter." Pyrrha sighed, tossing her weapons onto the table as well, if only to meet the other woman's threat with one of her own. Leaning on the table with her knuckles Pyrrha took a long breath and asked, quietly, "Where should I start?"

"The beginning is probably the best spot." Shepard muttered, staring at the prone machine Pyrra had rolled into the corner. "Where did you meet it? And why is it wearing… Is that N7 armor?"

"Eden Prime, I believe, and…" Pyrrha shrugged unsurely and waved a hand at the machine's chest, "There was a hole."

"A…" Shepard blinked slowly, "Hole?"

"Yes. In their chest." She nodded, tapping the side of her own chest in a weak attempt to show her where the Geth had been injured. When Shepard's brow only rose, Pyrrha sighed and straightened, "They used some… Well, some salvaged armor, to fix it. I… Should probably just start explaining, I suppose."

XxX-XxX-XxX

"Welcome to Rodam Expeditions!" The Turian behind the counter called as Garrus pushed the thin glass door open and stepped into the comfortably humid store. The Turian owner was working on a massive rifle pieced apart on a work-table that dominated the back wall, but turned enough to pay him a polite nod. Turning back, he asked, "What kind of game are you looking to bag?"

"Game?" Garrus asked as he stepped into the shop and looked around quietly. One wall was dominated by all manner of rifles, including a pair of long-barreled rifles with long, spiked rods set under them. Blinking, he asked, "Is… Is that a harpoon launcher?"

"RE is a hunter's emporium." The Turian answered as Garrus turned to the other wall, covered in survival equipment and manuals. Some of them he even recognized from his mandatory tour. The other Turian seemed to follow his gaze and chuckled, "They're old manuals, yeah, but Turian survival schools beat anything but Huntress ones. And hey, I have a few of those, too, if you're in the market."

"Not for that kind of Huntress, no…"

"Pardon?" The Turian grunted, setting aside his tools and turning to him. "Didn't catch that."

"I said, I'm in the market for information, and a gift." Garrus answered, walking up to the counter and cocking his head to the side jokingly. "The second is probably going to be cheaper, so…"

"We'll start there." The other Turian nodded, waving a talon at himself and adding, "Etarn Tiron."

"Garrus Vakarian." He answered quietly, chuckling when his fellow Turian's mandibles flicked in surprise and an unasked question. "And yes, that Vakarian. Hope you won't mind if we skip the fanfare."

"Skip the… Fanfare?" The other Turian roared a laugh and shook his head, "You're Garrus Vakarian! The best marksman to come out of C-SEC in a generation! I have a rifle modeled after your own in my personal locker. I use it out on hunts. Damn thing saved my life from a Ranakid hive I ran into a few months back, too."

"Hah." Garrus chuckled, "Yeah, well, glad to hear it."

"Sorry, sorry." The Turian waved him off, "What kind of gift are you looking for?"

"Something for a… Friend of mine." He explained quietly, mandibles flicking for his anxiety while he stared down at the counter. "I did something awful to her, a while ago, and, well… I wanted to get her something special to apologize."

"She special to you?"

"Not that way, no." The Turian answered breezily, "She's just a good friend. One I owe a lot to."

"I see. It's one of those…" The Turian didn't really know what Garrus was trying to explain, but then, it was impossible for him to. Clapping his talons together, he smiled, "And tell you what, you do me a favor, and I'll come up with something custom on the house for this little friend of yours."

"Depends on the favor?"

As if in answer, the Turian brought up his Omni-Tool and flicked a talon across a button Garrus couldn't see, calling up a little blue screen. "Just… Record something for me, right here. Something to advertise the shop."

"Uh, alright…" He paused to think for a moment and then shrugged and leaned forward, "I'm, uh, Garrus Vakarian, and this is my favorite gun store on the Citadel. That good?"

"Perfect." The Turian beamed, dropping his arm and nodding excitedly. "I'll cut it down and set it up myself. Brings in enough revenue, I might hit you up, offer some licensing pay or something."

"Not exactly my walk of life…"

"I know, but I will not cheat you out of good credits." Etarn answered with a shrug, "If you don't want 'em, then I can just… Donate 'em."

"Yeah." Garrus nodded, "Do that. For a good cause. Hell, might help me sleep at night."

"I know how that goes, yeah, Vakarian." The Turian rumbled, but he didn't seem to want to talk about it so Garrus let it lie. Instead, Etarn asked, quietly, "So, you came to a hunting shop for a present?"

"My friend is a fighter." Garrus nodded, glad the surprise business was over with. "A hunter, in fact, back where she's from. I thought someone like you would have something good in mind for a Human like that."

"A Human?"

"Yeah." He nodded, "And not one I'd want to fight, either. Well, except from orbit."

"Orbital bombardment does solve all life's problems." Etarn chuckled and waved a hand at the wall of rifles and ammunition. "Well, that's my best rifle stock. I specialize in those, so unless you want something different…"

"She has a rifle of her own." Or, well, sort of, but from the few times the woman had talked about it, Garrus didn't think she'd be up to replacing it anytime soon. Fishing out a small knife he always kept on his person, he offered it to the Turian as an example, "No, I was thinking something… Smaller."

"Like a shiv?"

"This is a knife, but-"

"No, that little thing is a shiv." The Turian sighed, reaching under the counter and drawing a nearly four inch monster with a curved, notched blade that he buried effortlessly in his worn countertop. Tapping the end of the hilt, the Turian clicked his mandibles amusedly, "This is a knife, Vakarian."

"It's a bit big, isn't it?"

"Long enough to stick out the back end of whatever's on the receiving end." The shop-keeper nodded, running a talon along the blade's thick guard. "And you can bash someone's face open with the guard, too."

"Impressive." And it sounded up Pyrrha's alley, too, but… "Do you have something like that in bronze?"

"I do, actually, yeah." The Turian smiled, turning and kneeling behind his counter. When he returned he was carrying a small case about as long as the knife still buried in the counter, if a bit wider. With a flick of a latch, the shop-runner spun the case and clicked, "Feast your eyes on this baby."

The blade in question was thinner than the first one, with a long furrow down its dull bronze surface. It ended in a round, use-worn guard and a handle wrapped in a black leather sheath, molded apparently for Human hands. The handle-guard on this one was thinner two, but with a red-colored, bladed edge on the outer side. The pommel was even headed by a small ruby, for whatever reason, that gleamed dully.

It was a work of art, but also a rugged piece of equipment, and he handled it as both when he picked it up.

"Where did you…?"

"Krogan mercenary came in a couple years ago, said it was for a friend of his." The Turian answered simply, "Wanted it tightened up and the artistic touches added on. But he never came back for it. The blade and handle are tandem, and made of a specialized titanium, so not much risk of wearing down. But it's a bit of a matched piece, so it's a hard sell. Comes with a leather sheath, in black."

"I'll take it." Its colors were almost like it was made for Pyrrha to carry… It was uncanny. "How much?"

"On the house, like I said."

"Great." Garrus clicked excitedly, taking the case and clicking it shut once the merchant had laid the sheathe inside. "Now, my other bit of business…"

"Not exactly sure I can offer you much." He shrugged, "I'm a weapons man, not an information broker."

"I know you work for the Broker." Garrus sighed, raising a single talon when the other Turian stiffened. Slowly, he laid a small card, loaded with credits, down on the counter alongside a datapad from the chest of his armor. "I just want you to put word in that I'm looking for someone."

"I'll pass word on." Tiron murmured after a long moment, taking the money and the information and sliding it into a hide-away under his counter. "If that's everything…"

"Right, I know." Garrus chuckled, turning to leave with the case under his arm. "That kinda deal tends to ruin the mood…"

XxX-XxX-XxX

"So the Geth are after me…" Shepard very nearly whispered the words, fingers gripping the edge of the table so hard Pyrrha was half-worried she'd rip a chunk of it off. Her other hand twitched, inching towards her rifle while the woman's glassy eyes bored into the door behind Pyrrha and her gaggle of party crashers. "It makes sense. I'm the one that stopped them from taking the Citadel, after all."

"They aren't after you, Commander." Pyrrha assured the woman, "They want to help you."

"Help me?" The woman repeated, hand on the grip of her rifle. Her eyes narrowed on her and hardened, glinting dangerously, and she asked, "Why would they want to help me, Nikos? I destroyed hundreds of them personally. Thousands on my order. And cost them the Citadel, and Sovereign, too."

"These are…" Pyrrha paused, trying to thin, and then offered weakly, "These aren't those Geth."

"Geth are Geth, they're all the same."

"Asians are Asians, they're all the same." Kasumi copied suddenly, chuckling nervously when the armored, irate Commander turned to her. "Just, uh, making the point, Commander. Might wanna, you know… Not judge a whole race like that. S'kinda not good."

"Geth aren't like… Like how you think of them, Shepard. They're so much more." Pyrrha stepped in, before the Commander could say anything. "I… Can't remember, or perhaps do not know, the specifics. But the Geth aren't allied to the Reapers. They are against them."

"Then why did they work together?" Kasumi asked quietly, looking between the two women when they turned to her. "What?"

"It's… Complicated." Pyrrha sighed, shaking her head and turning to look over her inactive companion. Nodding toward it she said, "Legion would have the details, but I've forgotten them. If they ever even told me."

"You'd forget something that important?"

"The last year has been… Hard, on me, Commander." She murmured, turning a dark look on the other woman that seemed to give the Commander pause. Quietly, Pyrrha went on, "I've had to come to grips with much that even you would find… Difficult."

"I died, Nikos."

"I'm well aware of the fact, Commander, and said what I did in spite of it. Which ought to tell you more than a little." Shepard actually blinked at that, taken aback. Pyrrha pressed on in the silence, before anyone could stop her, "I can't, won't, get into great detail about it all. But Legion was there for me when I needed them. Guided me, protected me. When the Geth found out, they built a custom ship expressly to house me."

"Geth building for Humans." Grunt growled quietly, "That's… Different."

"I'll say." Kasumi added, "You have any idea how much a ship like that would sell for, Red?"

"No?"

"Neither do I." The thief shrugged, "That's the point I was making! It's so different that I've never even heard anyone consider it... But it would probably be a pretty big number, if I had to guess."

"The point is that if you want details, then you will need to ask Legion." Pyrrha finally said, watching the Commander's jaw work at the suggestion. Before the tense woman could speak, Pyrrha rushed on yet again, making her argument, "They're unarmed and damaged, so they aren't capable of being a threat. And they would have the details you want."

"All for the low, low price of an active Geth in my ship…"

"Trust me, Commander. Please." Pyrrha pressed, leaning forward on the table to meet the Commander's eyes. "Like you said you would."

"...Fuck me and my bleeding heart." The woman sighed after a few long, quiet minutes of thought. To kasumi she said, "Think you can get the damn thing online, Goto?"

"I'm… Pretty sure the security suite down on-planet overloaded its power systems, so if I spike its energy core then I should be able to bring it online." Kasumi guessed, shrugging and adding, "I think? Not a Geth expert, though. Sorry."

"Whatever." Shepard sighed, taping the grip of her rifle and nodding at the still machine. "Just do it."

With a nod, Kasumi stepped over to the machine and knelt, arm glowing dully once again. She worked for a few minutes, humming to herself all the while, before a sudden electric jolt ripped through the Geth. It twitched and spasmed, and then its eye blinked on and off, the mandibles around it flexing and flicking randomly. Finally the glow of its eye steadied and its body calmed as the machine sat up on its haunches and then stood, gaze flicking between each of them warily.

Suddenly, it warbled a sound that made them all flinch.

"Nikos…"

"Just give them a second to come online, Commander." Pyrrha reassured her, "They're just… Disoriented."

The woman hummed and drew her rifle to her chest, but didn't say anything. Or, more importantly for the moment, aim at her friend.

After another long moment, Legion stilled and turned to her, "Nikos. You successfully extracted us from Hock."

"I did." She nodded, smiling, "Are you… Alright?"

"Several systems require repair to achieve full functionality. Further, power supply rests at approximately forty one percent." They answered quietly, face-plates flicking. One stuck in place for a moment, spasming until Legion reached up to correct it with a hand. "However, we are functional. For that we are grateful, Pyrrha."

"You're welcome." Pyrrha smiled, turning a nervous gaze on the Commander when she cleared her throat. Laughing awkwardly, Pyrrha waved a hand at her and said, "I would, ah, like you to meet-"

"Shepard, Commander." Legion cut in, turning to the woman and bowing its mechanical head slightly. "We are pleased to meet you. On behalf of the Geth, we would like to offer a hand of friendship to you."

"Friendship?" She blinked, "Just like that?"

"You oppose the Old Machines. Reapers." They clarified when her brows furrowed, "As do Geth. To that end, we come with an offer of support."

"What kind of support?"

"Technology, supplies, materials, ships." Legion answered mechanically, "With proper reasoning, Geth will be happy to provide these things to the end of combatting the Old Machines."

Slowly, mouth agape, Shepard set her rifle aside. Then she chuckled and asked, quietly, "Well isn't that convenient?"

XxX-XxX-XxX

Sr Killinger :

Das me, yeah. All the tasty morsels. Also, all the tea is mine~!

Simply Christian :

Precisely. Shepard has inherent biases, and I wanted to show her reacting to them and her own trauma naturally.

Prime Cronos :

Exactly! Like I told SC above, I wanted Shepard to react in a natural way that someone with her kind of trauma would. Namely, a very strong urge to murder death kill.