Running Silent:

Blood Pack Blues

…

An alternate ME3. Commander Shepard and her team are on the run from Cerberus and trying to make alliances before it's too late. In a galaxy with no reaper kill switch, how can they hope to defeat something so ancient and powerful? Their last hope is a desperate plan that may cost them everything. Shepard/Garrus, other side pairings.

…

Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to Bioware.

…

"Stop right there, outsiders!" one of the krogan growled. "You should know better than to come into Blood Pack territory."

"We don't mean any harm," Shepard said quickly. "We're only here to see Maelon Heplorn."

"How do you know about him?" the other krogan jumped in, but didn't wait for an answer. "I think we should take them to the boss."

"You can take us wherever you want," Shepard bargained. "But tell Maelon that we're here to see him. Tell him it's the person who saved his life on Tuchanka."

"Stop talking, human," the first krogan said. "Bring them," he directed the others. "And no funny business or you're dead."

Shepard moved as the butt of a rifle poked into her back, hoping they hadn't gotten too far in above their heads. She wished she could see Mordin's face behind the helmet or have any idea what he was thinking.

Hands on their heads, they were marched through various tunnels and buildings for what seemed like miles before they were dragged into a room that was probably luxurious by Omega's standards.

A large krogan sat upon a makeshift throne on a dais, an enormous shotgun sitting across his knees. The new Garm, Shepard thought. They were shoved roughly forward until they stood at his feet.

"What is this?" the leader asked, sounding bored.

"They were in our territory," the krogan who brought them stated.

"And you didn't just kill them?" the leader said with a sigh.

"They know about the salarian."

The leader didn't look bored anymore. His eyes blazed as they took in the newcomers. "What do you want with Heplorn?" he demanded.

"We just want to talk to him," Shepard dared to say.

He slammed down his fist on the arm of his chair, sending a loud metallic clang through the room. "Do you know who I am?" He didn't allow them to answer. "I'm Krag, leader of the Blood Pack, whose turf you invaded. I can have you killed or tortured at my pleasure, human." He let out a gruff laugh. "That would be their pleasure," he added, indicating the vorcha who had brought them in. "So you might want to try that again." He glared menacingly.

Shepard knew he wouldn't be satisfied without the full story, or at least something that sounded like it. She looked over at Mordin, who gave her a nod.

"You've heard about the summit of galactic leaders?"

"Who hasn't?" Krag answered gruffly. "Get to the point, human."

"In exchange for galactic aid in the war, the krogan leaders have demanded a genophage cure. We've been tasked to find one." Her heart raced in the silence that followed her answer, and she prayed she would be believed.

After a long moment of silence, Krag began to laugh. "And they said yes?" he finally said, still laughing. "The council, the turians, the salarians… they agreed." He laughed harder. "Good story, human. I know they'd see the galaxy burn before helping us!" he growled.

Shepard didn't let her disappointment show. She knew it had been a long shot.

"You want to see Heplorn so bad? I'll let him choose your fate." Krag waved a hand, and Shepard and Mordin were dragged out of the room. Neither she nor Mordin could be sure how Maelon would respond to their presence, or if he'd even be told enough to figure out who they were. She only hoped he would choose to speak with them. Otherwise, they would have to fight their way out without him or the genophage research they came for.

They were dumped unceremoniously in a cell, their guns removed but their armor and omni-tools remaining. It was foolish of their guards to leave them so armed. Of course, without removing her helmet, they had no way of knowing Shepard was a biotic.

With hands now free, Shepard turned off the armor mic and switched to private comms. She and Mordin were able to discuss their situation and create a few different plans for if this all went wrong.

After several hours had passed, they heard someone coming down the hallway towards them. Finally they saw Maelon, alone. A metal door swung shut behind him.

Even in armor, Maelon seemed to recognize them both. "Commander—"

Shepard cut him off. "Don't use that name here."

He stared back and forth between them. "What are you doing here?"

"You're trying to cure the genophage again," Shepard said.

The salarian, showing no shame or remorse, crossed his arms. "I hope you didn't come all this way just to scold me."

Shepard shook her head. "We need your help." She paused, hoping he'd find this more believable than Krag had. "In exchange for krogan aid in the war, I'm trying to find a cure for the genophage."

Maelon stared.

"Not true cure," Mordin jumped in. "Aiding natural regeneration abilities to overcome genophage over generations, allow krogan infrastructure and society time to adapt."

"I understand," Maelon said after a moment. "It's not a bad idea, easier than trying to synthesize a cure. I would love to help you, but…" he dropped his voice low, "I'm as much a prisoner here as an honored guest. They'll never let me leave until I've made a cure. A full cure." He glanced down the hallway behind him.

"Then we'll have to sneak you out," Shepard said.

Maelon jerked back in shock. "I've got to go. They'll be back for me in a moment. If you're really going to break me out… maybe I can get you the plans for this place. But it won't be easy."

"Nothing I do is easy," said Shepard, smiling a little though no one could see it.

"I'll be back," said Maelon, scurrying away when they heard the scrape of the metal door down the hall.

…

The hours bled into each other as Shepard and Mordin waited. She'd already broken her promise to Garrus to call every night. She'd been unsurprised to find that communications were blocked. He would worry, but there wasn't anything she could do about that. All she could do was work quickly. It would make things worse if he decided to attempt a rescue mission. Garrus would burn down Omega to find her if he became desperate enough.

If she hadn't already been motivated to escape quickly, the conditions of their cell would be enough to do so. There were no beds, only a hard floor, and a screened-off toilet to serve their needs. The food was… edible, however little of it there was. With Mordin's quick metabolism and Shepard's high nutrient requirements due to biotics, it wouldn't be long before that situation would become dire. Shepard had been in worse circumstances, but not often, and not in a long time. Her life on the Normandy was pure luxury compared to this.

They talked to pass the time. "What will you do when the war is over?" she asked him once.

"Retire," he said quickly. "Lay on beach, collect seashells."

She laughed at the thought. "You'll be bored within an hour."

He tilted his head. "Maybe run tests on seashells."

She smiled behind her helmet.

The two of them knew that they could break themselves out. They had omni-tools and Shepard's biotics, after all. But to get out with Maelon and his data… that would require Maelon's cooperation.

So they waited.

…

Solana's heart was breaking. Her shipmates attributed it to the death of her mother. She let them—it was easier than the truth. While her heart ached at the loss of her mom, there was far worse on the horizon. And there was no one to share her fears with.

She could talk to Garrus, she supposed, but she didn't want to make his burden heavier. With Shepard off on a mission, many of her burdens had become his, and not hearing from her was clearly driving him crazy.

When they'd gotten off the line with their father, Solana had forced Garrus to tell her the truth. What was it that had him so scared? Why couldn't their father stay on Palaven? It had come pouring out of him as if he'd been aching to confess. There was a plan, he said, for a reaper-targeted weapon. That was all well and good, but it was a long shot, and extremely dangerous. If it didn't work—and here his voice had faltered—the back up plan would involve the destruction of their homeworld. Of all homeworlds.

Her stomach had dropped at his words. The keening sound she heard came from her own throat. Her home would be gone, all the places she'd known and loved. All the people who couldn't escape. Millenia of history and culture, gone in a instant.

And Dad, her stupid stubborn dad, wouldn't leave until Garrus told him to. By then it might be too late. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry. Wanted to fight. She couldn't do those things. Instead, she went on, a lead weight where her heart should be. What else could she do?

She was quieter at meals, tried to laugh along as the others laughed. Tried to talk when they wanted to talk. They knew there had been a summit, knew there was a plan. It gave them hope. But she only felt dread.

Solana held back a sigh as she watched her brother pick at another meal, stopping to check his omni-tool for messages after every couple of bites. The plan had been Shepard's idea, he'd admitted. He was afraid for her, the toll it was taking. Every moment he wasn't with her, he worried more and more. Getting up from the table, Garrus dumped his half-full plate in the garbage and went off to the main battery. She wouldn't bother him—working was his way of stress relief. She saw Kaidan watching Garrus with a furrowed brow. No one could avoid noticing her brother's mood. When Tali got up to put away her plate, the human followed her to the kitchenette. He tried to be quiet, but Solana's sensitive ears overheard his conversation.

"Hi, um… I need to ask you a question," Kaidan said softly, leaning close to Tali. "About Shepard and Garrus. He's, uh, not just her top advisor, is he? When she's here, they spend a lot of time in her quarters. Now that she's away, he's just… he seems so worried. More than normal. Is there something going on between them?"

Tali gave him a sympathetic look. "They've been together since before we took down the collectors. I've never seen Shepard happier."

"Damn it, I thought—" He broke off, running his fingers through his hair. "I thought that maybe I could change her mind about me. That maybe I'd get another chance."

"Kaidan," Tali began gently, "Back on the first Normandy, she trusted you to see things clearly. Then, when she thought she needed you, you broke her trust on Horizon. Maybe her heart." She paused, and he looked down at his hands, gripping the edge of the counter. "I don't think there's any way back to the trust you had before, much less the relationship. And you shouldn't try. She's so happy with Garrus! None of us have ever looked out for her like he has. There have been times when I've been torn between the Normandy and my people. Garrus was never torn. He always put her first. I can see why she trusts him so deeply."

Kaidan let out a deep sigh, leaning away from Tali again. "Then I guess he's a very lucky guy."

"They're both lucky," Tali countered. "Lucky they found each other."

"I won't interfere," Kaidan said, looking bleak. "But I—damn. I really messed up, huh?"

"Yes," Tali said quietly. "You did." The quarian walked away, and Solana looked down at her plate, trying not to be noticed.

Kaidan stared a moment at the closed door of the main battery before walking away.

Solana felt sorry for him, but not that sorry. Shepard was better off with her brother. No one else could support and love her the way he did.

And she was going to need it if her plan came to pass.

…

Over a day had passed since Maelon's brief visit when Shepard got a ping on her omni-tool. She looked up in shock and surprise. She shouldn't have been able to receive a message from inside the compound.

Sender: Blocked it said. All it contained was a graphics file. She opened it to find a map of the facility. "Maelon came through," she said, voice tinged with relief.

With a glance towards the hallway, she and Mordin began to study.

Another day passed before they received a follow up message. It included standard patrols and Maelon's own schedule. This time, he'd left them a back door to reply. They sent him coordinates and a time. Once more, they waited. This time, it was in anticipation.

…

All it took was Mordin's omni-tool to hack the lock. Shepard slid open the door with exquisite care, not allowing a sound to escape the room. They crept down the hallway to the heavy metal door and peered through the small glass window in its center. Outside the door a guard stood in boredom, tapping his armor-clad foot. He couldn't be allowed to raise the alarm. Shepard stepped back and extended her left hand, a blue glow gathering around it. The same glow surrounded the guard, tightening, smothering. Mordin opened the door while she held him firm, giving her the time she needed to slip through and snap his neck. She caught his dropped weapon and eased him to the floor.

"Why are they always shotguns?" she said, examining the weapon.

"Krogan enjoy close quarter combat," Mordin replied quickly. "Charge and intimidate enemies," he added, stepping forward to peer through the next door.

"That was rhetorical, Mordin." A smile threatened at her lips. "All clear?"

He nodded. They continued, Shepard shouldering her new weapon. She would try not to use it. The sound of gunfire wouldn't be missed.

They snuck through the base as quietly as possible, using Mordin's tech skills and Shepard's biotics to keep from being caught. The near-silent tapping of their feet down the corridors was the only sound for most of their journey to Maelon's lab.

When they saw the guard standing outside the lab, they knew Maelon's schedule had been correct—it was only guarded when Maelon was inside. A lock sufficed the rest of the time, but Maelon was guarded wherever he went. For his protection… and theirs. They would never let their prize go without a fight. Maelon had known he would never escape. But now he had help.

When the coast was clear, Shepard caught the guard in another tight biotic field, forcing him rigid, unable to speak or move. Fury burned in his eyes as he saw Shepard and Mordin approach. But the hands that killed him were Maelon's. He appeared behind the krogan and slit his throat with a sharp lab implement. Once his screams, contained by her biotic field, had faded, Shepard released her biotics and let the guard fall to bleed out on the concrete floor.

"You're late," Maelon whispered. "Come with me." And he slipped back into the lab.

Shepard's eyes widened as they entered the room. Maelon was scrambling from console to console, copying and deleting data. Samples had been poured down drains. Datapads were smashed. The lab had been all but destroyed.

"I won't leave them anything they can use," he answered her unasked question. "Your belongings are over there, by the way. These idiots believed it when I told them I could replicate your weapons for them." He waved a hand towards a set of cabinet doors. Shepard opened them to find her own precious guns and Mordin's that had been taken from them when they arrived.

"Are there krogan females trapped here? Test subjects?" Shepard asked as she holstered her pistol and SMG.

"There were some volunteers," Maelon replied. "They're heavily guarded. You won't be able to save them."

It hurt Shepard to agree, but she knew it would be hard enough to get out with just Maelon. "Alright," she conceded. "Let's go."

But before they reached the door, an alarm began to sound. Shepard stopped in her tracks and swore. "Fuck."

…