My brother was always the more book smart one. Probably why he managed to graduate first in our class at the academy instead of me. I was actually the only synchronizer in our class that year, which was a bit unusual, since there's usually at least a handful of us. Some fluke in the demographics, they ended up clumping either in the year ahead of us or the year after. Anyway, I got a bit of playful flak from the other synchronizers about letting my unaugmented brother beat me like that. And John of course was his own cheerful self about it. He counted it as a notch in our unofficial competition to see who'd get the furthest the fastest in our respective services.

John was always more comfortable aboard ships, so of course he went full navy. Tactical track, like Mom. He and I used to joke all the time about whether I'd make colonel before he made captain, and which of us would need to salute first whenever we met up. We more or less kept pace with each other, at least until Elysium and Torfan. Not just because John was feted as a hero while I got smeared by the press, but because that was when I was chosen for induction into the Cadre and needed to spend a year getting the full N7 suite and learning how to make full use of my new augments. But once I was back in the field again, I caught up fast. Helps that Cadre are so often tapped for sensitive or important missions, so lots of opportunity to accrue combat time and get commendations. That's of course balanced out by how much more often we get shot at.

After I joined the Cadre, the race then became which of us would get our own independent commands first, since as Cadre, I was now eligible to actually get a shipboard command. I won that one, when the admiralty gave me the Normandy to hunt down Saren. And then after I nearly got myself killed putting that bastard down, someone in the navy got the bright idea of giving John my ship as his first command. And so when some bastards out there went hunting for a Normandy commanded by a Shepard, they got the right Normandy, but the wrong Shepard. They got the wrong Shepard.

*deep breaths*

There's a saying amongst the Corps. That which fails to kill me has made a tactical error. I won't be making the same mistake.

-Evangeline Shepard, Mandatory Counseling Log 009

Chapter 8

Donatio mortis causa

Okeer regarded the human that had waltzed into his lab. She was clearly heavily armed, the krogan had a good eye for weapons much like many of his species that survived as long as she did, and the fact that she made it through both the failed berserkers and the Blue Suns indicated at least some passing competency. And she was confident enough to approach him with such forthrightness. Not out of bluster either, from the gleam in her eye. Another thing about having survived this long, Okeer also had a keen eye for judging people. Jedore, he had known at first sight was a pompous, brash woman that was more bluster than actual force. This human standing before him now, had the presence to actually back up her words. That by itself made her more tolerable.

"And who would you be," Okeer responded, "that would warrant me rendering such services to?"

He was still a krogan though, so a declaration of force was met with likewise, even if Okeer could put it a bit more eloquently than many of his more ill-mannered brethren.

"The name is Evangeline Shepard," the woman said, then smirked. "Need I say more?"

That gave Okeer pause again, for the name did indeed say it all. While there was undoubtedly some degree of exaggeration in the telling, it was well known by anyone that might end up on the business end of a gun that the principal lead in the hunt of the rogue Spectre Saren Arterius was a human woman by the name of Evangeline Shepard. It was further known, by those with at least some sense of self-preservation, that Shepard was Cadre, the Terran Empire's equivalent of the Council's Spectres, the salarian STG, or the turian Blackwatch. And while reputation alone might not make a woman, it was still foolhardy to ignore it completely.

"Oh, I suppose you could," Okeer said with a smirk of his own. "But why waste both our times?"

"Glad you're quick on the uptake," Shepard said. "So, you seem to have gotten yourself into a slight pickle. What say we get you out, and then talk shop?"

"If only it were that simple, Shepard," Okeer said, turning about to regard a single solitary tank within the room. "I cannot simply leave, not without my masterpiece."

The colonel regarded the tank, and the krogan that lay dormant within it. "So after all those rejects, this is the one you consider perfect?"

Okeer's mouth widened into a proud. "Perceptive. And yes."

Shepard frowned. Getting that tank out in the middle of the current battle would be nontrivial, seeing as it amounted to little more than a giant target. But Okeer was clearly heavily invested in its survival, and if it were destroyed he was much less liable to be cooperative. A problem, but not an insurmountable one.

"Is he ready for decanting?" Shepard asked.

"No," Okeer said, growling. "Had Jedore waited merely another day however, she would have rued ever crossing me."

That problem was now slightly bigger. Shepard brought up a map of the surrounding area on her omnitool and took a few moments to consider it. Once she had what she needed, she stepped over to Okeer.

"I can probably get both you and the tank out," she said. "It'll be messy, and frankly a lot of trouble to pull off. So I want to make sure this is going to be worth that trouble."

"That help you required of me," Okeer said. "What is it you seek?"

"The Collectors," Shepard said. "They've been attacking human colonies. I need countermeasures against their technology, and I've been told you've worked with it before."

"The Collectors," Okeer said, looking back at the tank. "Yes, I did acquire bits and pieces of their technology. I needed them to ensure this, grunt, would indeed achieve the perfection required."

"Acquired, by trading your own people to them?"

Okeer snorted. "My people are a pale shadow of our rightful glory. Whereas in the past when only the rightful strong would survive to glory, now they are thankful to coddle each and every mewling weakling that is birthed. What possible future lies in that, except one of continued capitulation to the Council races?"

It was not like Shepard needed more understanding of why even Okeer's fellow krogans wanted him dead, but the doctor was providing it nonetheless. Probably a good thing Shepard was still reserving the right to shoot any sociopaths after she had gotten whatever use she needed out of them on this hunt.

"Generally a future where your species hasn't been outright exterminated is usually better than one where it has," the colonel said dryly.

"Oh, and what makes you think we krogan would make the same mistake twice?" Okeer said with a feral sneer.

Shepard shrugged. "A species that makes the same mistakes isn't really a mark of progress. A species that progresses would make new ones."

The sneer turned into a smirk as Okeer grunted. "Was it your wit that helped you bring down Saren, Colonel?"

"No, I did that with my trusty sword," Shepard responded with another of her own. "The wit is just a bonus. But we're getting off topic." She pointed at the tank. "You say you used the Collector tech on your, perfect specimen. Did you just blindly use it, or do you actually understand what it was you did?"

Okeer growled. "I know full well what I did, Colonel. You think I would risk the future of my people upon some flight of fancy?"

Shepard did not bother answering that, instead projecting a basic scan of one of the seekers they had recovered at Freedom's Progress.

"Anything about this strike your fancy?"

Okeer regarded the projection and the basic telemetry being displayed with an intense focus. The scientist in him was now engaged, momentarily overriding his baser temper.

"A bug," he began. "A really nasty bug. Its eyes look simple, but it can probably see far into the infrared spectrum, useful for tracking prey. And it's got a biotic charge built up in its body. Could easily kill whatever it found. Could probably even interfere with communications, if there were enough of them." Okeer looked back at Shepard. "Its biomechanics certainly look like Collector tech."

"And you think you could neutralize it?"

Okeer grinned. "I'd say I have a fair shot."

Shepard shut down the projection while holding Okeer's gaze. "And you won't be too overly distracted by your pet project to focus fully on my needs?"

"My work is already done," Okeer declared. "All that remains is for my perfect krogan to emerge, and to prove his worth by killing mighty enemies. These Collectors, they would prove a more worthwhile challenge then the sell swords of this world."

"Two for the price of one," Shepard said. "Sounds good enough to me." Then into the radio. "Joker, begin attack run." Then back to the warlord. "Can we at least get this thing moving?"

"Yes, that we can do," Okeer said, accessing the controls on his own omnitool. "Be certain that the path is clear, Colonel. As I said, I do not intend to risk the future of my people on mere fancy."

The room vibrated slightly and distant explosions could be heard.

"Neither would I," Shepard stated.

"Colonel, what is the Normandy hitting?" Miranda asked.

"This entire lab complex is built out of old ship wreckages," Shepard said. "The Suns took more care in making sure the lab itself was structurally sound, but all of the ancillary modules were more slapdash. Some of those modules include where the Suns themselves were barracked. We take those out, they have bigger fires to put out than stopping us from waltzing out."

"Or piss this Jedore off enough to come after us herself," Jacob pointed out.

"Possibly," Shepard said. "Even probably. But that's probably only going to happen if Jedore has lost all functional command of her subordinates, and if it's a fight between that loudmouth versus whatever is left of the Blue Suns company, I'll take the former."

"Fair enough," Jacob said.

More explosions sounded and a beep on the radio indicated the completion of Normandy's attack run.

"There's a landing pad where the shuttle can touch down to load the tank," Shepard said, projecting the location and the path that would take them there. "Miranda and I will go on ahead and clear the route. "Jacob, you'll stay with Okeer and help escort the tank to the pad once I give the all-clear."

Splitting the short fireteam she had was less than ideal, but Shepard had little choice in the matter. They could hardly bring the tank with them while clearing the approaches to the landing pad, nor could they just leave Okeer by himself. The krogan was unlikely to run, not without the tank at least, but there was no telling if the mercs might yet breach the lab. In that case, having a second gun watching his back might mean the difference between him surviving to make good on his end of the bargain or Okeer dying senselessly trying to protect his prize.

"Don't keep us waiting too long, ma'am," Jacob said.

"Just be ready to hustle when I give the word," Shepard said as she stepped through the door.

The radio chatter from the Blue Suns had grown increasingly frantic after the additional airstrikes. By this point the mercs were recognizing that they were not just dealing with some sort of commando raid, they were facing potentially an all-out assault. Some were even suggesting calling in the planetary authorities, though others were just as quick to shoot down such a suggestion. Korlus' government was not known for efficiency or fairhandedness after all, and getting them involved was as liable to see them come in guns blazing on everyone as they were to be a complete no-show. What mattered to Shepard however was that the mercs were outright breaking, focused more on their own immediate survival than in retaking the facility. That did not seem to sit well with their commander at least.

"No more! I will have order! Must I do everything myself!?"

"How are the speakers still working?" Miranda said in some amazement as they climbed the ramps.

"Good question," Shepard said. "EDI, can you zero in on Jedore's position? Maybe we could launch one more strike to nail her."

"The Blue Suns commander appears to be on the move using ancillary corridors carved through the ship superstructures," EDI answered. "She is buried too deeply to reach without collapsing the entire stack of derelicts."

"Is she headed our way?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Celebrations may yet be premature, Colonel," EDI warned. "Jedore is after all accompanied by a heavy combat element."

"So she's still got those mechs with her?"

"Affirmative."

Shepard sighed. "I didn't bring the Cain, because I thought the junkyard would be too close quarters to use. Next time, there isn't going to be a room small enough that I don't bring the damn thing for."

While the bulk of the Blue Suns were too busy putting out fires elsewhere, some still had the misfortune of crossing paths with the two women. A few had the good sense to actually turn around and head in the opposite direction, which Shepard was perfectly fine with. Killing everyone they ran into might help maintain plausible deniability, but being that thorough was just plain tedious. That and Shepard was not actively looking for an excuse to shoot everything, she racked up enough of a body count just from those actually trying to gun for her.

"Landing pad looks secure," Shepard radioed in. "Get that tank and Okeer up here for evac, Jacob."

"Copy that Colonel, on our way."

More data flitted across Shepard's HUD. "Make it quick, we're making enough noise that the planetary authorities are starting to wonder what the hell is going on."

"Are they actually scrambling a response?" Miranda inquired.

"Not yet, but I'd rather not wait to see if they change their mind."

Fortunately for Shepard, the wait for their own ride did not take long as the shuttle came into view. Nothing shot at it either, which was a nice bonus. Jacob and Okeer were also making good progress, and by the time they emerged the shuttle was settling down to hover atop the landing pad. It did not touch down outright though, to allow for a quicker getaway once everyone was aboard.

A very loud droning sound cut through the air, along with a mechanical whine.

"Fuck!" Shepard cursed. "Haul ass!"

"This thing ain't gonna move any faster!" Jacob said, resorting to trying to push the tank physically.

"Okeer!" another woman's voice roared. "You traitorous son of a bitch, I will have your head!"

"Guessing that's Jedore?" Miranda remarked.

"Sounds like it at least," Shepard said. "Get a barrier up and protect the tank while it's getting loaded, I'll keep her and her toys at bay."

"Roger that, Colonel," Miranda did not waste time arguing.

Two of those toys were slowly lumbering up the ramp and turning to bring their weapons to bear. Jedore herself was already letting loose, along with the four troopers accompanying her. These soldiers were at least equipped with proper kinetic barriers, and seemed actually able to aim. The funny thing about kinetic barriers though was, all too often people ended up becoming overly reliant on them and not taking proper cover. So when something did happen to those barriers that they were not expecting, they tended to be sitting ducks. Like now, when the burst of electricity from Shepard managed to actually fry two of them due to not only lack of cover but also improper spacing. Not that they would have any opportunity to learn from their mistake, as the grenade that detonated between them finished the job.

At seeing their compatriots fall so quickly, the other mercs at least now took the time to find cover. Even Jedore relocated, suggesting the woman's sense of self-preservation was still intact, whatever her lack of common sense. By now however the YMIR mechs had gotten onto the landing pad and were revving up their guns. Without proper heavy weapons of her own, killing them was going to be a long slog.

"Colonel, down!"

Shepard obeyed immediately, having seen what the shuttle pilot was trying to do via her uplink. While the baseline Kodiak came unarmed, the models employed by the corps for combat drops were fitted with small mass accelerator cannons for some basic fire support. Even a small cannon was measurably more powerful than the usual handheld weapons mere infantry could carry, as Thomas now demonstrated by blasting away at one of the heavy mechs. The initial salvo was enough to strip off the mech's shields, but the YMIR's armor was able to hold. And the mech also mounted cannons of its own. Having identified the most direct threat, both mechs let loose upon the shuttle, forcing Thomas to raise the shields and halt the boarding process.

"Thomas, hold fire!" Shepard ordered. "We'll deal with the mechs! Just get that damn tank onboard!"

"Aye ma'am!"

Amidst the cacophony of cannon fire, a mighty roar sounded as Okeer charged forth. Despite his age, despite his ostensible qualifications, Okeer was still a krogan warlord and would not bide someone else fighting his battles for him.

"Goddamn it Okeer, get your ass back here!"

Whether his contributions on the battlefield were wanted or not by those engaged. Suppressing further curses, Shepard leaned out and blasted away. Okeer was clearly invested in seeing his perfect krogan reach safety, even if it meant sacrificing his own life in the process. The crazy old codger might even relish going out in a blaze of glory now that his masterpiece was complete. Shepard however needed him alive, and also cooperative, which meant extracting both the tank and Okeer together. Afterwards, she would give the old bastard a piece of her mind.

One of the mercs tumbled back, trying to get clear of Okeer's charge. The effort proved to be in vain as the krogan slammed into him, the weight of the impact shattering the shields before a shotgun blast did the same to the merc's armor. The man was already as good as dead, but it was not Okeer that delivered the final blow. That came about as autocannon fire from one of the mechs strafed their position, puncturing the half-dead merc and forcing Okeer himself to retreat.

The number of foot soldiers had dropped precipitously since the engagement commenced, but they were never the real threat. The mechs were what threatened to tear through Shepard and her squad, and with two of them present the colonel could not risk executing a phasic strike on one and leave herself exposed to the other while her systems cycled afterwards. But assuming Jedore was controlling the mechs, it might be possible to use the woman to neutralize them long enough to extract. Shepard rolled out of cover, pointed herself straight at Jedore, and zipped across the landing platform in a blue flash. Jedore was still turning about to see what was happening when Shepard crashed into her, sword punching straight through the former's gun and sinking into her shoulder. Jedore was brought crashing onto the ground, screaming in pain from the piercing of her flesh.

"Call your mechs off, now," Shepard demanded.

"Jedore does not take orders from you!" the woman snapped back.

Shepard twisted the blade, causing Jedore to scream again. "You live for as long as I have a use for you. Call. Them. Off."

The woman's fingers did something on her omnitool, and the two mechs stopped moving. That was still not quite enough to save the last of the mercs that had accompanied her, as Okeer finished turning his head into paste.

"Good. Now, you're going to keep them off, and you're going to let us leave with Okeer and his tank bred."

"You think you've won just because you have me pinned with your sword?" Jedore sneered. "One day Okeer will stick a knife in your back just as he did me!"

"My problem, not yours," Shepard said bluntly. "And I wouldn't waste any time trying to follow us, not if you don't want to end up bleeding out."

Shepard yanked the sword free from Jedore's flesh. She was not gentle about it, from the new cry of agony that sounded. For good measure, Shepard gave Jedore's hand a stomp. Enough to shatter the projector for the omnitool and probably bruise the wrist, but not enough to actually break anything. Probably. Turning about, Shepard was satisfied to see the tank finally getting loaded onto the shuttle. Now they just needed to get aboard themselves and-something began beeping.

Glancing over, Shepard saw the lights on the two YMIR mechs start flashing red. They were flashing very, very rapidly. Her head snapped back towards Jedore, but the Blue Suns commander seemed as surprised.

"You traitorous scum!" Jedore screamed. "Who dares to hack my mechs!"

"Sorry boss," a man's voice sounded over the Blue Suns comms, "nothing personal. Just making sure these commandos don't get away with our goods. Well, maybe it is a little personal. This is for making us listen to your goddamn voice during the combat drills."

"Move, now!" Shepard cried out.

Shepard did not head straight for the shuttle. She would have easily made it otherwise, considering the distance. Miranda and Jacob were also already onboard. The problem was Okeer, having rampaged across the pad to kill the other mercs, was flat out on the other side from the shuttle. He would never make it, not with the beeps turning into an almost solid tone now. Not without help. When Shepard warped, she could technically carry someone else with her. The additional mass ended up cutting short the distance she could travel, there were always tradeoffs like that, but she could do it. When trying to carry a several hundred kilogram heavy krogan however, that distance might be cut short rather more substantially.

The colonel was able to reach Okeer. She was able to jump them to within a short pace from the shuttle. They were still that distance away when the two mechs exploded with full force.

"Ugh," Shepard groaned as she awakened. "My head. What the hell landed on me?"

No one answered and as Shepard opened her eyes she was greeted with pitch-black darkness.

"Fuck."

Lights flickered on from her helmet, indicating that at least her systems were not totally compromised. Nor was the colonel buried wholesale, she had landed in a crevasse of sorts made up of hull fragments and bits of debris. Getting out without disturbing the whole stack and causing it to cave in on her was going to be interesting though.

"EDI, do you read?"

"I have lost contact with my primary node," the AI's voice sounded. "At present only a fragmentary unit is running within the suit's systems."

So not only was she stuck down here, she no longer had radio contact with the Normandy either. That was going to make things a bit trickier.

"Take a sounding, I want to see what's around us, and how stable all this debris is."

"Performing scan," the EDI fragment confirmed.

On her HUD, Shepard was soon presented with a map of the tangle of metal and scrap around her. There was a disconcerting amount of red indicating structural weak points that if compromised could cause the entire pile to shift, but there were at least some regions of blue and green that suggested ways in which she could try climbing out. Shepard frowned. There was also a heat signature, one sufficiently above ambient temperature, that it could only be one thing. There was someone else down here with her.

"Okeer?" Shepard called out.

A soft groan sounded, one made just barely audible by the bouncing of sound within the crevasse. Shepard ambled over, and when she finally reached the krogan, her frown turned into an outright grimace.

"Goddamn it," the colonel murmured.

Whereas Shepard had managed a relatively soft landing on a pile of scrap, Okeer had found himself impaled upon a metal beam right through the gut. Even for a krogan, that was a lethal wound, and it was a minor miracle that Okeer had not already expired.

"Shepard," Okeer rasped.

Shepard sighed as she settled down next to the warlord. "I'm here."

"The tank," Okeer said. "Did it-did it make it?"

The colonel let out another sigh, this one filled with exasperation. "You have a bloody one-track mind, Okeer."

"Do not mock me, Shepard," Okeer growled. "The tank. Was it secured!?"

Shepard sighed again. "As far as I could tell, it was loaded into the shuttle. And the shuttle itself was probably far enough away to weather the blast. Beyond that though, I don't know. I am stuck down here with you."

The krogan glared at Shepard for a few moments longer before grunting. "So you are. For my people's sake, I can only hope my own efforts have not been wasted like yours."

Shepard looked at the beam of metal. "Yeah, wasted about sums it up."

Okeer followed her gaze, then after a few moments looked back at Shepard.

"If the tank was saved, then I am at peace with my fate. You have upheld your end of the bargain, Shepard. I will not live to do so for mine, but in what time I have left, I can at least tell you whatever it is you wish to know. Perhaps it will help, in some small way."

Krogan honor was an interesting thing. The species as a whole adhered to a more straightforward and direct sense of obligations than say humanity, but pride also played a significant part in whether krogans thought an obligation was worth fulfilling or creating in the first place. That Okeer was prepared to at least try to meet his indicated he respected Shepard, to at least some degree. At this point, that was probably as much as Shepard could hope for.

"The Collector technology you bought," the colonel began. "What did it do?"

"It taught," Okeer answered. "I could mold the genes however I wanted, take the best qualities from the warlords of ages past, and string them all together into a perfect specimen. But the very best that nature could offer, all it amounts to is unfulfilled potential. That potential must be nurtured to be unleashed."

"Genetics is pretty plastic," Shepard nodded. "Just because you have the genes for stronger muscles or better lungs, doesn't mean much if you never train them."

"Yes," Okeer said, sounding impressed. "The Collector technology allowed me to train the very cells themselves. To instill within the muscle memory of how to fire a gun, or to gut an enemy. To make the lungs work as if they were running a marathon, without the specimen ever leaving the tank. All this and more, it allowed me to control in exacting detail the nurture that must accompany nature."

"And together, it helped you create the perfect krogan."

"Yes," Okeer hissed.

"And yet, what is a single perfect krogan supposed to do, against the sheer weight of an indifferent galaxy?" Shepard asked.

"Do?" Okeer said. "He need do nothing but to be a krogan. His very existence will serve as an example, to my people and to all the other races. We krogan do not need our uncounted legions of the past to rise to glory, one of our finest is a match for any hundred of our enemies!" The krogan wheezed, the intensity of his speech aggravating the gapping wound through his stomach. "He-he will show my people, that we need not cling to our stagnant past. That the Genophage is just a sorry excuse we keep telling ourselves to explain away our decadent weakness!"

The cough this time turned into a fit, the spasms which were certainly doing Okeer no favors as he likely further aggravated the tear in his side. Despite it being a futile gesture, Shepard activated her omnitool and applied what medigel she could to at least try and slow the bleeding. She still needed some more answers from Okeer after all.

"Did you get a peek at any other Collector tech?" the colonel asked. "Did they offer you anything else besides the training tech?"

"They had much to offer," Okeer said. "But I had no need of their bioaugmentation systems, or of their gene sequence rewriters. Everything that my people need, we already possess. All I needed do was put the pieces together."

Shepard's lips thinned. That level of sophistication was disturbing in its own right, but that Okeer seemed able to understand it further reinforced the notion that the warlord could have been of some use in coming with countermeasures against the Collectors. Except he would soon be too dead to be of much help.

"I don't suppose you put any of your technical knowhow into your perfect krogan," Shepard said forlornly.

"I did not consider it necessary," Okeer said. "But, even if he cannot help you defeat the Collector's technology, he will still be of some use, if guided by the right hand." The warlord took a deep, effortful breath. "I ask this of you, Shepard. My, grunt, for all the nurture that I have invested within him, he still lacks the finishing touch. The touch that only true, genuine experience can provide. He needs a battlemaster to instill within him the true artistry of war. A battlemaster like yourself."

Shepard's head dropped an inch. "What?"

"Your reputation precedes you in many respects, Colonel," Okeer said, "including the respect you earned from Urdnot Wrex. While Wrex and I do not see eye to eye on many a matter, only a fool would discount his skills as a warrior. If you have won his approval as a fellow warrior, then you have all the makings needed of a battlemaster."

The colonel felt a headache building. "You want me to what, play sensei to your masterpiece?"

"A teacher, yes. I assure you, Colonel, he will be well worth the effort of mentoring. You are in pursuit of an insidious foe, I am of no illusions in that. You will need all the help you can get."

This day was the day of exasperated sighs. "Considering everyone thinks that the Collector homeworld is on the other side of the Omega-4 relay, I am on what amounts to a suicide mission. And you think that's a good environment to bring along what amounts to a newborn to teach him how to fight?"

Okeer grinned like the manic he was. "What truer proof would there be of my creation's perfection, for it to do what others call impossible?"

Shepard stared at Okeer. "No offense, Doctor, but I think you're genuinely insane."

The krogan chuckled. "I have been accused of much worse in the past, Colonel. Such a paltry insult is hardly enough for offense."

The colonel's lips quirked into the slightest of smiles. "You're right that I need help, and right now I'm not terribly picky about where it's coming from. But that doesn't mean I'm prepared to sign on just anybody. If your tank bred is as good as you claim, I can certainly the worth in mentoring him. But whether he is good enough or not, that's for me to judge."

"I would not have asked if I thought that judgment would lead you astray," Okeer said with confidence.

Shepard frowned slightly. "This, grunt, of yours. He was built upon the sacrifice of how many hundreds of his fellow clones? How many that did not pass whatever muster you demanded of them? That alone means he has a lot to live up to, to have made all that sacrifice worthwhile. And that's before we count all the krogans you sold to the Collectors to get their technology in the first place."

"Do you seek to preach to me on my deathbed about the morality of my actions?" Okeer inquired.

"Hardly," Shepard said. "I'm not priest. I just want you to understand, the standard that I will hold your perfect krogan to. And the sort of future I expect him to help his future build." The colonel knelt down so that her eyes were level with Okeer's own. "If we make it out of this suicide mission of mine, and if your grunt proves as capable as you claim, the one that I would see him follow afterwards is the very same Urdnot that you don't see eyes to eyes with, even if you respect him as a warrior. That is the path that I want you to understand you are hinging your hopes on."

Okeer smirked. "If you did not have in mind your own goals, your own standards, I would have been most disappointed, Colonel. And if the path that my grunt takes sees him carry forth the Urdnot clan to greatness, so be it. They are still krogan, and their chieftain at least understands the staidness that grips our people." The warlord took a deep breath as he lowered his head back against the rubble. "I will content myself knowing that they will strive for new glories instead of wallowing in fading memories of past triumphs."

Madman, that Shepard was still convinced Okeer to be. But he had just enough vision that his dreams were not outright insanity, whatever they cost to fulfill. It was in some ways a stark warning for Shepard herself, a reminder that one could become lost in the process of trying to achieve a dream or ambition. For that reason alone she could at least pity Okeer, even if her empathy remained more constrained.

"Blessed be those whom return to the Great Mother," Shepard said. "Let their forms give her strength, as she gave us strength when we emerged from our shells."

Okeer chuckled slightly. "You would say a prayer, even for one such as I?"

"Death is the great equalizer," Shepard said. "All will face it one day, and its inevitability is what makes life itself worthwhile."

The warlord took another deep, pained breath. "A warrior and a poet. Those were the greatest of our battlemasters. Krogans truly worthy of the title. To think, I would find such strength and wisdom again, in a human." Okeer opened his eyes and met Shepard's own. "Blessed be the hunter, swift and true. May she find her quarry and bring bounty aplenty to krantt and clan."

A different prayer, this one for the living.

"Blessed be the fathers, of strong will and heart," Shepard continued. "For our sons and daughters they serve as pillars of strength."

"Blessed be the student, of keen sight and sense." The warlord's voice was growing quiet. "May she learn in either victory or defeat, but that she always learns."

"Blessed be the master, of wisdom and counsel. For in them we are given the truth of our selves, of our clans, of our people."

"Blessed be the sons, blessed be the daughters." Okeer's voice was now a whisper. "For unto them do we give, the future that we forge."

The old krogan closed his eyes, letting the last of his breath escape him. His battle was finally done, after over a thousand years.

Shepard's however was far from over, and the first step to continuing it was getting the hell out of here. Leaving Okeer's corpse, the colonel started climbing, careful with her footing. The amount of debris collapsed atop was uneven in distribution, if she could reach a thin spot she might be able to get a signal through, or even blow her own way out. The latter was risky as it could result in a further cave-in, but as a last resort it was at least available.

"This is Shepard, Normandy, do you read?" the colonel tried once she was higher up.

"….nel-copy," a few words broke through the wash of static, along with a few additional packets of data.

"My primary node is attempting to localize," EDI reported. "There appears to be a tunnel at bearing 220 that leads further upward. That may allow for a more stable connection."

"Alright, let's try it."

The tunnel in question turned out to be something of a tight squeeze with her armor, but it widened out after a meter or so. It was also definitely heading up, and more data packets got through as she slowly inched upwards. Then.

"Colonel Shepard, do you read!?" a frantic sounding Miranda called out.

"I read you," Shepard said. "Triangulate on my position, there's some debris between us, might need to use the shuttle to peel it back."

"Roger that Colonel, on your way-wait, there are krogan in the vicinity of your transmission!"

Shepard frowned but did not stop climbing. "What are they doing?"

"They appear to be, digging? They-"

Bright light flooded Shepard's vision as something pulled off the debris on top. Looking up, Shepard saw a fully suited up krogan peering down.

"Colonel! Are you alright!?"

"For now," Shepard said, rising carefully and watching to see what her would-be rescuer intended. "Weapons hold, we don't want to provoke them."

"We'll come in for pickup the moment you give the word, Colonel," Jacob said.

The krogan continued staring at Shepard, and the colonel stared right back. Then, she frowned.

"You. You're the one that pointed us to the labs before."

While the standardized armor and helmets worn by all the tank bred krogans made them look functionally identical, simple wear and tear had added enough distinguishing marks that allowed Shepard to pick out differences, at least with the help of her sensor suite.

"I saw you fall from where glass mother was," the krogan said. "You and others. I saw where you landed, and so I began to dig."

Shepard looked around, seeing several other krogans gathered about.

"Not just you, it seems."

"The others, they followed me," krogan said. "We found the blue fleshy thing, she cried out at us. It was a voice we recognized. Jedore."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Jedore survived the fall?"

"Survive the fall? Yes. Survive us? No."

That was hardly surprising, nor did Shepard feel like shedding any tears for the psychopathic Blue Suns commander.

"Okeer is also down there," Shepard said. "The one you called Father. He, didn't make it either."

The krogan looked down the hole, then back up at Shepard. "Then, the voice is gone."

"Yes, yes it is."

The clone shifted, looking about. "Then, we do not need to stay here any longer."

"You never had to," the colonel stated.

That saw the krogan tilt its head a bit. "You said this before. I did not understand before, but I think I do now."

"I hope so," Shepard said. "So, what will you do now?"

The krogan looked around, at the wasteland, at his brethren, at Shepard.

"We will go," he finally said. "Away from here. Far enough so that the only voice we can hear is our own. And then we will listen, to what our own voices say."

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea," Shepard said. She gave a nod. "Thanks for digging me out."

"I followed the smell," the krogan said. "It is, different. Better, than the smell of this world. I did not want it to be buried forever here."

The colonel chuckled. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment." She took off her helmet, facing the krogan with her hair in the wind. "I don't know if we'll ever meet again, and you really don't have any reason to believe anything I say. But, none of you are failures. That you are all alive is testament to that fact."

The krogan reached up, and took off his own helmet. Finally the two were speaking face to face.

"I do not know if what you say is true," he said. "I do not know what I am if not a failure. But I can see already that there is more to my life than fighting or dying. I would find what I am."

Shepard smiled. Reaching out slowly, she gave the krogan a caress on the cheeks. The krogan did not pull back, and instead seemed to even enjoy the touch.

"Not everyone that smells different will be like me," she said. "Life isn't all fighting, but there is a lot of it. So watch your backs out there, yours and your krantts."

The krogan regarded Shepard levelly for several moments.

"And you as well, squishy one."

That elicited a chuckle from the colonel. "You can call me Shepard." She stepped back and waved for pickup. "And if we ever meet again, you'll need to tell me what to call you as well."

End of Chapter 8

Right, I'm back. Been a while, yes? Not that I haven't been busy, seeing as there's a new story with 75K+ words under my profile. Ahem.

Yeah, this chapter was annoyingly difficult to write, since there was so little depth to it in the original game. Hence why I ended up needing to dramatically alter the ending of how Okeer dies. The way it happened in the game felt way too forced. This is definitely turning into a thing with the vanilla ME2 missions. It's one reason why I already have drastic alterations in mind for some of the ones taking place on Omega, and I'm seriously contemplating the same for the Illium ones as well. The one that's probably going to be the biggest pain is Jack's recruitment, both in terms of the mission itself and in terms of narrative coherency.