Chapter Twenty-Three: Tuchanka Pt. I
Deep within new stars
The Ones Before had left it:
Hunger's Bastion
SSV Normandy
Departing Orbit of Sur'Kesh
"You slimy, lying Salarian son of a bitch!"
"Slimy? My species has long since evolved from requiring membrane-based oxygen diffusion -"
"Shut. Your. Mouth."
A thick, pointed Krogan talon all but pushed Doctor Mordin Solus out of the open troop door of the UT-47 Kodiak and onto the deck of the Normandy shuttle bay. A very angry, recently-awoken Urdnot Wrex followed, massive weight causing a pair of deep thunks as his boots his the floor.
"Admit it. This wasn't about curing the genophage at all," growled Wrex. "Was this all an elaborate ploy to kill two Pyjacks with one round? Killing not only the cure, but also the one Krogan who has a realistic chance to unite his race and save them from internal destruction?"
"Rage clouds your judgment Wrex," Mordin said quietly, eyes starting to narrow. "Urge you to calm down. Reconsider your accusation."
"Or else what? You'll kill me? Hehehe. Draw on your STG field training to finish the job? I'd like to see you try."
"Stand down." The voice was deep, coarse, and while commanding, was not Shepard's.
Wrex turned his head to see the Master Chief stride off of the Kodiak, hexagonal orange faceplate turned right towards the Krogan as if the man inside was staring daggers through him.
"Ahhh. Spartan." Wrex spat the word like an insult. "I've got a bone to pick with you after what you did."
"My actions were justified."
"Your actions? Justified? They tried to kill us! And you decide that's the best moment to pull a fast one on me?" Wrex barely stopped himself from bellowing; rage seething from every pore of his skin. His breathing was slow, measured, like a predator ready to strike. The Krogan squared up on the Master Chief.
"You had a high chance of compromising the mission. I recognized the symptoms of Blood Rage." The Master Chief shook his head. "If the Salarians had wanted us dead then we wouldn't be here right now. They had hundreds of soldiers at that base, dozens of aircraft, and an entire group of ships bracketing the Normandy in orbit."
"Chief's right," agreed Shepard, stepping out of the shuttle followed by Liara, Garrus, and Kaidan. Liara was grasping onto Shepard's shoulder looking unsteady, while Kaidan had his eyes closed and was rubbing his temples vigorously, obvious pain etched in his face. "They had ample opportunities to take us out if that were their goal."
"Well tell me," started Wrex, "How do explain the, the - "
"The bomb?" All heads snapped back towards the Chief, some still a little unnerved that occasionally a feminine voice sometimes radiated from the hulking seven-foot tall armored supersoldier. "It was a single Salarian. A guard near the elevator, suicide vest. I would have caught it sooner, but it seemed that the chemicals contained only mixed into explosive form after we had already gone down into the labs."
"The man inside the suit is, but I am not. I'm Cortana. An artificial intelligence."
Doctor Solus perked his head quickly towards the Spartan in a way that seemed like an AI residing within the hyper-advanced Mjolnir suit was not at all an unthought of possibility. "AI. Interesting."
"Mordin, please take the female Krogan up to the med bay. Liara, Kaidan, go with them, get Doctor Chakwas to check out your heads," ordered Shepard.
As Mordin went back into the Kodiak to assist the Krogan female a spurt of whirring was heard as Viper-Heavy's troopbay ramp hit the deck of the hangar, James rushing out towards the group near the Kodiak.
"Commander, what the hell happened down there?" asked Vega, head swiveling between an unsteady Kaidan and Liara, Shepard, and the tense standoff still occurring between Wrex and the Master Chief.
"Suicide bomber apparently," responded Shepard, reaching up and popping the seals on his helmet, sliding it off gently.
"Anyone hurt?"
"A couple of minor head injuries possibly," replied Shepard, motioning towards Liara and Kaidan. "Vega, help Mordin escort the female Krogan up to medical, she said she was feeling weak. Cortana, please continue. A suicide bomber?"
"It makes the most sense. Like Chief said, if the Salarians had wanted us dead we would be. A singular, unexpected action like a suicide bomber explains the reaction, or lack thereof really, of the rest of the base as we made our escape," said Cortana.
Shepard pursed his lips together in a tight frown. "Then it seems the most glaring questions left are who ordered the attack, and why."
"I'll tell you why," stated Wrex. "There's obviously some Salarian bastards still out there who hate the idea of curing the Genophage and will do anything to stop it."
Shepard nodded in agreement. "EDI? Have you been listening?"
"Yes Commander," was the response over the hangar intercom.
"See if you can contact Kirrahe on the QEC. Tell him it's urgent. Have Joker plot a course to Tuchanka."
"Right away Commander."
"Chief, follow me. We're going up to the War Room. Were you recording what happened?" asked Shepard.
"Yes."
"Good. Can you create a video file starting from when we exited the lab elevator and were attacked to when we bugged out on the shuttle?"
"Cortana?" prompted Chief.
"Already done," Cortana replied happily.
Shepard saw as the elevator doors closed, a light on the panel indicating that it was ascending to Deck Three, the crew deck. "Compile it in a compatible format for QEC transmission and have EDI attach it to her communique to Kirrahe. Chief, let's take the service stairs."
"Shepard!"
The Commander's head swiveled around to the unmistakable voice of Wrex, who was purposefully walking towards the pair with purpose. Shepard had a sinking suspicion as to what this was about.
"Wrex."
"Not so fast Shepard. The Spartan and I have unfinished business."
"Is that so?" said Shepard, crossing his arms in annoyance. "We don't have time for this."
"Sure we do," growled Wrex, gaze shifting towards the Master Chief. "This one incapacitated me through dishonorable combat. In accordance to ancient Krogan traditions, if were are to continue working together then I demand a fight on equal terms. Right here, right now."
"I thought you were trying to abolish the more barbaric Krogan traditions," Shepard countered.
"I am. Originally, this fight would have been to the death," he said, grinning an aggressive at the Chief. He backed up a few paces, unholstering his massive shotgun and casting it aside. The Krogan spread his arms outwards in the universal 'come and get me' sign, still grinning. "Well Spartan? I'm waiting."
"Chief, you don't -" started Shepard, halting when he saw the Spartan reach to his back and grip his sleek rifle, setting it down on a nearby weapons bench. His pistol, bandolier of grenades, and spare magazines followed. He started towards Wrex slowly, but not in a way that portrayed a sense of fear or hesitation.
Shepard's eyes flicked to Garrus as he stepped besides him, the Turian leaning in close and whispering, "Shepard, are you sure this is a good idea?"
The Commander sighed. "No."
"And you're just going to let it happen?"
"Yeah."
"Why?" Garrus asked.
"They need to get it out of their system," Shepard answered dryly. "Chief was just doing what he thought was best for the mission, but Wrex thinks being knocked out is 'dishonorable' and now demands fair combat."
"Wonderful," quipped Garrus, shaking his head. "I'll get some popcorn."
"Hehehe. First one off of their feet loses," said Wrex, widening his stance and putting his arms out towards the Chief.
The Spartan mimicked the Krogan's stance, which signalling to Wrex that he was ready. The Urdnot leader wasted no time in attacking, rushing at the Chief with a heavy, closed right fist leading the charge.
What happened next Shepard could only describe as… unreal. Now the Commander knew that the Master Chief was fast, by far faster than a normal Human, but he had no idea that he was that fast. It sent an unconscious shiver down his spine to see what the Spartan was truly capable of.
The Spartan sidestepped to the left of Wrex's attack, locked the Krogan's arm in an underarm-bar with his own left arm, and stopped Wrex's forward momentum with a vicious open palm strike to the chest that would have likely killed anything but a Krogan. He then stepped his right leg behind both of Wrex's and headbutted the Krogan right between the eyes. Lastly, he released the hold on Wrex's arm, causing the Krogan to fall backwards right over Chief's strategically placed leg and crash to the floor with a heavy thud.
All of this happened within the span of a single second, and occurred with such speed and force that Wrex was only able to process what had happened well after he had hit the floor. Judging by his stunned facial expression, Shepard was worried that Wrex would enter into another Blood Rage.
Wrex burst out into a belly laugh so loud that echoed off the walls of the shuttle bay. He held out his arm to Chief and the Spartan took it, hoisting the Krogan up on his feet. Wrex didn't release the Chief's arm though, saying, "There's only one other person alive who's managed to knock me on my quad, and he's standing right over there. Took him a lot longer though."
He motioned towards Shepard with his head, and the commander dipped his head in response.
"But that?" he said, shaking his large head. "I'll just say that I'm glad you're on our side." Wrex let go of Chief's armored forearm and walked over to his cast aside Shotgun, picking up and tossing it at the Spartan. The Master Chief caught the weapon expertly, the massive Claymore looking like a normal weapon in his hands.
"Shepard didn't want it, said it wasn't his style. Take it," said Wrex.
Chief palmed the weapon over to see at the other side and was surprised to see letters engraved into the side of the Shotgun.
"Helmsbreaker," said Wrex, seeing the Chief look at the engraving. "Crafted by my grandfather, Master Armorer of Clan Urdnot one and a half thousand years ago. Given to my father, then taken by me when I killed him."
Though almost no one else could tell behind his reflective visor and motionless stature, the Chief was hesitating when it came to taking Wrex's weapon. During their training it had been emphasized not to get attached to weapons, that they were merely tools for the real weapons, the Spartan's themselves, to utilize when needed.
Linda's previous sniper rifle, Nornfang, was an exception, yet that was a special case. Her mastered trade required her to customize that weapon to the extreme and learn its subtle ins and outs over a long period of time. However, Chief was still under the firm belief that weapons and equipment always had a potential to fail, and that adaptability was be the key to effectiveness in the field. If there was one phrase that Mendez had drilled into his brain during training, it was that. Adapt or die.
"Oh just take the shotgun. It's part of the ritual challenge and he's giving it to you out of respect, something that's apparently very hard to earn from a Krogan," said Cortana into his ear.
The Master Chief dipped his helmet towards Wrex. "Thank you."
"Hehe, you've earned it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe that our good doctor said that he would need me in the medbay. I shouldn't keep him waiting," said Wrex, starting for the elevator. "Shepard. Birdbrain. Spartan," he said looking at each of them. However, this time when Wrex had acknowledged the Chief he used not a tone of disdain, but one of cameraderie.
Garrus looked like he wanted to say something in response to Wrex's insult, but instead just chose to remain quiet before heading to the armor lockers to put away his weapons.
"Commander, Colonel Kirrahe is attempting to contact you on the QEC."
"Tell him I'll be there shortly EDI," said Shepard, nodded towards the service stairs. "That's our cue." The pair stepped into the stairway, heading up to Deck Two. The Chief hoped that they didn't encounter anyone else going down, as he wasn't quite sure that they'd be able to make it past his armored bulk; it was narrow enough as it is.
The emerged shortly in the CIC quiet bustle of the CIC, Specialist Traynor telling Shepard that he had some messages, her eyes never leaving the Chief. The Commander said that he would get to them later, and Chief shifted his visor so that he was looking down right at Traynor, not at all surprised that the Specialist suddenly found her data console very interesting.
They turned right into the safety checkpoint, Shepard waving off the two Privates and their standard weapons scan and setting off alarms as he strode through the barrier, Avenger and Carnifex still attached to his armor. Chief followed close behind, alarms most definitely not stopping.
A short trek through the center of the dark, console-heavy War Room and the two were in the QEC in no time. Shepard and Chief stepped onto the two transmission plates on the floor, seeing Kirrahe's holographic blue figure already waiting for them.
"Colonel," greeted Shepard cordially.
"Commander," the new head of the STG replied. "I've just gotten the report of what happened. Is your team alright?"
"A couple of potential head injuries, hopefully both minor."
"And the Krogan female?"
"Unharmed. Resting now."
Kirrahe shook his head, letting out a sigh of relief. "Good."
"What about on your side? How many casualties?" asked Shepard.
"Seven dead, including Base Commander Wiks. Twelve wounded, three in critical condition." He paused for a moment, grainy eyes looking up and down Chief's visage. "I watched your video file, Master Chief Petty Officer, while I was waiting. A couple of times in fact."
Another pause. More examination of the Spartan by the Colonel. "I still don't know how you did it. I wanted to believe that the footage was doctored, but STG base surveillance captured the same things." Yet another pause. Chief noted that the Salarian hadn't blinked in quite some time. "No Human has that type of reaction speed. No Turian, Asari, or Salarian either. Even Geth mobile combat platforms can't move that fast. What exactly are you?"
Surprisingly, it was Shepard that came to the rapid defense of the Master Chief. "He's part of my team. Were it not for his actions, the body count would have been much worse. Now, do you have any other information on the attack? Who did it? Who ordered it? How? Why?"
"Fortunately we already know the who, why, and how. The bomber himself was Corporal Jessil, a former field agent who had recently been reassigned to Base Guard for some service R&R. Armory clearance and technical training gave him means to steal explosives and the ability to slice the manifest to make it look like he hadn't, so that explains how."
"Chief, wasn't this the Salarian you said you had a bad feeling about?" asked Shepard, remembering what the Spartan had told him while they were descending down into the labs on the elevator.
"Yes. I recognized him," he responded.
"A bad feeling?" questioned Kirrahe cautiously. "You'll excuse me if I am hesitant to take a soldier's hunch as a concrete piece of evidence."
"A hunch that turned out to be right," added Shepard pointedly.
"Colonel, this wasn't your standard combat danger sense," explained Chief. "The first time I looked at him, before he had even activated his explosive vest, he just felt - wrong. It's difficult to explain."
"Please try," said Kirrahe, interested in Chief's description of the man.
"Yes sir," said Chief, continuing. "There was something off about him, but nothing you could tell on the surface though. He gave off a certain feeling of… emptiness, now that I really think about it."
"Emptiness?" asked Kirrahe.
"Yes sir. Like his actions weren't entirely his own, or that they were at least heavily influenced by something else."
"It's interesting that you would say that, as we figured out that the motivation behind the bombings was related to blackmail," revealed Kirrahe.
"Blackmail?" parroted Shepard inquisitively.
Kirrahe nodded his head. "Yes. The Corporal was blackmailed with the threat of the destruction of his familial reproduction records. Now, while I'm certain that this represents a very logical explanation for the bomber's actions, based on the instincts of the Master Chief Petty Officer I will have our investigators look further into the Corporal's records, see if we can't find something else out of the ordinary."
"I appreciate it Colonel," said Shepard truthfully. He knew that the old Kirrahe would never dismiss a soldier's instincts, and was glad to see that his elevation to the head of the STG hadn't changed that facet of him. "Master Chief, are there any other insights you'd like to add into what happened?"
"None at this time, Commander," replied the Spartan, having said everything he wanted too that wasn't already in his helmet video file.
"Then you're dismissed. Good work today."
The heavily armored being nodded, palming the door open button on on the inside of the QEC and stepping out into the War Room before the door closed behind him.
Kirrahe waited a couple of seconds after his departure before continuing. "We know who orchestrated this whole thing."
"You do?" responded Shepard quickly, if a bit incredulously.
"None other than former head of the STG, Colonel Puzel. He was the one who acquired our Corporal's family records and blackmailed him into his unsuccessful suicide bombing, we have the electronic records to prove it."
"How did you figure it out so quickly?"
"Puzel ascended to his position through political maneuvering, not merit. He barely possessed the base skills needed to become an STG member. As you can expect, his attempts to cover his tracks were rudimentary at best," clarified Kirrahe. "Electronic records acquisitions teams had system logs in minutes following the attack. The problem is, he's dropped off the grid and we don't know where he is. I knew I should have pressed the Dalatrass harder to hold him for an end-of-service debrief…"
"Any plans to find him?"
"Oh yes, several. But the important thing is that his plot failed. Soon the Genophage will be cured, and then our job will be to redirect all of that Krogan ferocity and stubbornness into fighting the Reapers." Kirrahe sighed, head tilted downwards. "But Shepard, it goes even deeper than that."
"Explain."
"The encryption variables on the comminiactions between Puzel and Corporal Jessil weren't STG, that's why we didn't pick them up. They were Cerberus codes."
"Cerberus!" Shepard hissed. "Do you think they worked with Puzel?"
"It appears so, in one way or another. I have agents looking into it. One last thing," Kirrahe added. "I recently received a message that Primarch Victus wanted to forward to you. Two Turian Frigates and an Legionare Expeditionary Carrier are meeting you at Tuchanka."
"A Legionare Expeditionary Carrier?" asked Shepard. Kirrahe couldn't be talking about the famed 26th Armiger Legion, a Turian military group as old and storied the Hierarchy itself, could he?
"Yes, a Legionary Carrier," clarified Kirrahe, "And yes, from the 26th. Unfortunately most of them were wiped out during the battle at Palaven, but a good number survived. Most are heading to Taetrus to reform the unit and rebuild, but this detachment has been ordered to accompany you. Apparently our Turian friends have decided that this mission is important enough to warrant one of their most skilled Marine groups."
It made sense. The Turians had just as much a vested interest in curing the Genophage as the rest of them did, now that they were all in this fight together. Securing the support of Wrex and his united clans would provide the allied forces with some of the fiercest, toughest shock troops in the galaxy. Of course the Turians would send what elite units they could spare, although most of them were undoubtedly needed for the upcoming blitz to Palaven. "I'll certainly be glad for the support," he said truthfully.
"I figured as much. I have to cut this call short. I'll make sure to contact you if any additional intel comes out of our further investigation into the bombing. Good luck on Tuchanka Commander."
"Thank you Colonel."
"Of course. Kirrahe out."
The transmission faded out into static, and Shepard exited the vidcomm room. Next stop, the medbay to check on Kaidan, Liara, and the female Krogan. It was a short journey down one deck until Shepard was striding through the doors, meeting the gazes of Doctor Solus, Doctor Chakwas, and Wrex. Lying on beds either passed out or asleep were Kaidan, Liara, and the female Krogan.
"Doctor Chakwas, what's the word with Kaidan and Liara?" he asked quickly.
"Not great," replied Chakwas, pursing her lips before continuing. "Kaidan has a major concussion and his L2 implants have been completely fried. I'd say a week until he could return to combat, but he needs new implants and the accompanying re-training before he'll be able to fully express his biotics again. I would suggest with an L5 or something better suited for him. It should get rid of his migraines too."
"Liara's situation is better. Hairline skull fracture that will cause some swelling and pain, but nothing more than that. She'll be out of action for at least three days, but I want four to make absolutely sure that the nano-filaments have repaired the fracture site and that symptoms have completely subsided."
Shepard nodded slowly, taking in the information. His immediate thought was one of empathy and sadness that his friends had gotten hurt. His second concerned the tactical situation now thrust upon him and the fact that he would be down not only two team members for their upcoming mission on Tuchanka, both also bereft of the only other biotics on the Normandy. Lastly, he felt angry that two of his squadmates had withstood injuries that put them out-of-action in just as many days. He had to try his best to make sure that further casualties were avoided, as if they kept up at this pace they'd be sending Joker down on ground missions before long.
"All in all, given the kind of blast you all withstood as such close range, it could have been much worse," added Chakwas.
"I know," said Shepard. His eyes travelled up and down the unconscious bodies of T'Soni and Alenko for a few seconds before jumping across the room to the one of the Female Krogan. "How is she?"
"Stable," answered Mordin. "Weak, physically drained from previous procedures, but stable. Maelon's research invaluable in preventing her death."
The Salarian was quiet for a second, unusual for Mordin. "Shame I had to kill him. Could use him now...but not his questionable ethical procedures."
"I'd like to talk to her when she wakes up," said Shepard.
"Certainly. Might be a while though. Gave her heavy dose of sedatives to ensure peaceful rest. As much strength as possible will be needed for upcoming events," said Mordin. "Will let you know when she does. Meanwhile, will finish synthesizing cure. Majority of leg-work already accomplished back on Sur'Kesh. Now with sample of male reproductive DNA, won't take long."
Shepard smirked at Wrex. "Sample of male reproductive DNA huh?"
"You should have seen the needle that he used," Wrex scowled, deeply. "He may not have tried to kill me back on Sur'Kesh, but what that bastard did was almost worse."
"Nonsense," Mordin reasoned. "Larger needle was necessary to puncture tougher skin of Krogan scr - "
A glare that would have melted the average man into a cowering puddle instead stopped Mordin just short of completing his sentence. Wrex stepped heavily past them all and out of the medbay, barely audible whispered curses hissing from between his reptilian lips.
Shepard watched him go, turning back to the medical personnel gathered in the medbay and saying, "Keep me updated if anything changes. Carry on."
The Commander turned and left, followed by Doctor Chakwas, citing needs for a few moments rest. Left alone with Doctor Solus and three unconscious patients, Cortana took this opportunity to spring up a holographic avatar of herself on the desk besides the Salarian.
"So, I believe that we were just getting into the finer details of the Genophage before Shepard came in?" she said, leaning her hip on one of the microscopes on the medbay counters. The two had been communicating through datapad messages, but now that they were alone in the bay Cortana could express herself visually. She had to admit, she was quite taken with Doctor Solus. For once, it seemed she had found someone living - other than Spartan-II's or Doctor Halsey - who could actually keep up with her rapid-fire nature.
"Yes," said Mordin. He was currently looking through said high-powered microscope, occasionally jotting down some near illegible notes on a datapad next to him. "Many have common misconception about Genophage. Think it renders female Krogans infertile. Not the case. Instead, simply reduces the probability of viable pregnancies."
Cortana nodded her head. From what she was able to gather herself she already knew that. "Not a sterility plague."
"No. Not designed as one initially. Unfortunately, combination of low frequency viable pregnancies, krogan proclivity to violence, indifference about focused breeding, all have resulted in steady Krogan population decline."
"Then it seems like the Genophage was successful beyond its intended effect."
"Some would say, yes. Most would say in fact. There's a reason why Genophage is constantly observed and modified to prevent increasing population growth that results from Krogan adaptability. Turian, Salarian, Asari leaders have agreed for centuries not to change what they deemed wasn't broken, to borrow a human expression."
"What about the Alliance? Did they have different opinions when they came onto the galactic stage?" asked Cortana, curious. She found the Salarian's unique speech patterns quite novel.
Mordin looked up from his microscope and fixed his eyes on a point on the wall a little above eye level, thinking. "Human's introduction to the galaxy was a very interesting time period. Quite strongly voiced many different opinions on many different issues. Characteristic of the Human race, voicing their opinions whether others wanted them or not. Healthcare, education, economics, political representation, military affairs, the like. When they found out about the Genophage…"
"Let me guess," started Cortana. "Anger, sadness, outrage? Disbelief that another race could be treated in such a manner?"
Mordin nodded his head, going back to his observations through his microscopes. "Yes. They pined the Council heavily for Genophage cure. Compared it to various examples of genocide that their own species has gone through. They were naive, they didn't understand more complex facets of issue beyond base emotional reactions. Humans hadn't even gone through industrial revolution when Krogan were rampaging through the galaxy at the height of the Krogan Rebellions. Drastic circumstances required drastic actions. My previous work was necessary."
"You don't have to defend yourself to me Doctor Solus," replied the AI. "The UNSC is far too familiar with drastic circumstances requiring drastic actions."
"Yes, I hypothesized that a thirty year war against an overwhelming, overzealous, technologically superior enemy would result in a hardened, more practical attitude."
"Billions dead. There were… instances where we had to take the moral lowground. Yet, when it comes to survival, we did what had to be done." She thought of the work she knew ONI had done in creating a poisonous strain of a core Sangheili grain meant to starve them into submission, and how it similarly compared with the idea of the Genophage. "The Genophage was the correct solution at the time, but now circumstances have changed."
"Not just circumstances. I've changed as well. Been shown different perspectives by many. Shepard, Wrex, Eve. Coincidence that the Reapers arrived when they did, helped convince everyone to help the Krogan."
"Eve?"
"Right. Forgot to mention. 'Eve' is what we named her," the Salarian said, stretching a long finger out in the female Krogan's direction. "Didn't name herself, so we did. Name a metaphor for the Krogan's last hope as a race. If she were to die, if cure fails, then darkness will descend upon them. Darkness a metaphor of course, total extinction would be reality."
"That's… depressing," stated Cortana, frowning.
"Adds weight to the work," reasoned Mordin. "Too much on the line. Failure unacceptable."
She nodded. "So, what if the Reaper's wouldn't have shown up? Would you still have been working on the cure?"
"Was working on cure long before Reapers arrived. Perspective changed many months ago. Was difficult, uphill work, but yes, still would have done it. Was already in contact with Krogans. Would probably have had to do it in secret. Likely would have been disavowed by government, hunted down, killed even."
"But instead, you get entire research bases full of personnel following your every word."
"Yes. Greatly sped up process. If there's one thing I can thank Reapers for, it's that."
"Indeed. So, it should just be a manner of distributing the cure once it's completed then? How do you plan on doing that?"
"Not sure. Injections? No, too slow, too inefficient. Water supply? No, too much potential for cross contamination, unknown side effects. Faster than injections, but still too slow. Reapers won't wait, need cure widely distributed quickly to fully obtain Krogan support."
"What about airborne vectors?" asked Cortana.
Mordin paused, putting a finger to his chin. "Hmm. Has potential. Fast dispersion, wide area of effect. But, lack necessary equipment. No dispersal pods or dedicated dispersal craft, and no way to get them in time. Alternate solution needed, alternate - "
Mordin's eyes widened, a smile creeping up on his lips. "Of course! The Shroud!"
"The Shroud?"
He grabbed his datapad and after some furious tapping presented it to Cortana's avatar, a relatively futile gesture. The AI could already 'see' what the Salarian had pulled up, being connected to the same internal systems of the Normandy's network infrastructure as she was.
On it was a picture of a tall, pyramidal tower with a large base and a skinny, tapering top. "Originally built to stabilize Tuchanka atmosphere due to the Krogan-induced nuclear winter. Dispenses particles into atmosphere that will eventually spread to impact entire planet. Orders of magnitude faster than alternative vectors. One problem however."
"What's that?"
"Shroud built in middle of ancient Krogan arena dedicated to Kalros, mother of all Thresher Maws. Location chosen to dissuade sabotage attempts, will have to travel there anyways. Have no doubts that Shepard and Wrex will come up with ideas to prevent violent death via Kalros. Commander's mission success rate near one-hundred percent, have no doubt he will prove to be a reliable delivery vehicle for cure."
"From what I've heard about Shepard, there shouldn't be any problem no matter what comes up," said Cortana, drawing back to her previous talks with the various crewmembers of the Normandy. "Didn't you used to work with him?"
Mordin's expression turned quizzical, though he answered the question. "Yes. "
The Salarian's eyes changed, going from simply looking at Woods to a more observational, analytical mode. The Doctor outstretched a three-fingered hand to his datapad, tapped a few keys, looked at it for a couple of seconds, nodded a couple of times, and set it back down. "What else have you heard? About Shepard. And from whom?" asked Mordin. "Simply curious."
"Well, so far I've spoken to Dr. T'soni, Garrus Vakarian, and Major Alenko," replied Cortana.
"If that's the case, can already guess what was said. Incredible leader, loyal friend, excellent combat tactician, similar praise," said Mordin. "Correct?"
"Many things along those lines, yes," she admitted.
"Not surprising. Couldn't pick a group of people who adore Shepard more. All have been with Shepard for years. He's saved their lives countless times," said Mordin.
"Would you mind telling me your opinion of the Commander?"
"Certainly." The Salarian paused for a second, gathering his thoughts and opinions on the Commander of the Normandy. "Most of what you've been told true. Leads by example. First in, last out. Would never ask you to do what he wouldn't do himself. Very caring of friends and crew. Would always listen to what you had to say. Asks for your input. Takes suggestions seriously. Outstanding tactical combatant. Mastery of wide array of biotic abilities, excellent situational awareness, remarkable weapon handling skills."
Mordin started pacing back and forth, bobbing his pointed finger at nothing really in particular. "Most don't vocalize Shepard's weaknesses. Considered the perfect soldier, a galactic hero in the eyes of not only the Alliance, but in the eyes of many of the other races as well. Everyone has flaws."
"Very true," Cortana agreed. Even she did. "Care to elaborate on Shepard's weaknesses?"
"Many of Shepard's character flaws coincide with his better traits. For example, care for crewmates. While noble, believe that Shepard sometimes cares too much. Leader must be willing to use assets to achieve objective. Sacrifice assets if necessary."
"I'm sure Shepard knows that. It's different when those 'assets' are your close friends, or your lover even," said Cortana, thinking of the relationship between the Commander and Dr. T'soni.
"Precisely," replied Mordin, nodding his head quickly. "Because of what you just said, Shepard is sometimes too timid, too careful. Doesn't want to commit squadmates to more dangerous tasks if he can't help it. Instead takes it upon himself, rather than delegating. Given a tough tactical situation, majority of time Shepard will commit to defensive tactics rather than aggressive ones. Missions sometimes suffer as result. Stalls in squad momentum, valuable time lost, enemy able to reinforce, regroup, counterattack."
"Some of what you just described would still be considered ideal qualities to have in a leader," reasoned the UNSC AI.
"In past conflicts perhaps. Now? Not sure. Reapers unlike any conventional force galaxy has ever fought. Will never pause, never hesitate, never stop until last singular unit is completely destroyed. Hesitation, careful consideration, or overly defensive tactics utilized by our side likely to result in death."
"Shepard has had experience fighting Reapers before though. Surely he is aware of the kind of combat response the Reapers require, no?"
"Different times. Reaper's fully mobilized now. Can expect different troop types that aren't familiar, updated and adaptive tactics, all things which could take him by surprise."
"Is it reasonable to expect anyone, let alone Shepard, to fully commit to one-hundred percent aggressiveness all of the time?"
"Of course it isn't reasonable, but it will be what is required. My own opinion. Second criticism revolves around style of leadership. Tends to micromanage. Directs squadmates in very specific did we get the chance to express our own combat instincts or use own initiative to solve problems. Shepard's orders usually correct and effective. Yet, take a look at most of his team. Alenko, years of service in the Alliance military, and a commissioned officer. Vakarian, years at C-SEC, successful vigilante, hand-selected by Turian Hierarchy to lead anti-Reaper task force."
Doctor Solus was counting off on his fingers as he talked. "Me, three decades of military and intelligence service in the Special Tasks Group. Urdnot Wrex, literal centuries of combat experience, now leader of all Krogan clans in the entire galaxy."
"I can see where you're going with this."
"Hard not too. Almost everyone who's worked with Shepard extremely qualified, capable in their own way. Yet, he still insists on micromanaging missions when applicable. Likely ties back into concept that he doesn't want squadmates to get hurt."
Mordin looked at Cortana, large, dark eyes darting up and down Cortana's purlples and blues. "You certainly are curious. Intrigued, by you, and by UNSC. Would like chance to talk more later, but I have work I must finish. Time-sensitive."
"Of course Doctor. I would look forwards to more chats as well. If you need anything just call for me," Cortana said, smiling. She disappared, leaving the Salarian to his work. He shortly started humming as he deftly switched out microsopse sample slides.
Chawkas walked back in, gaving the Salarain a quizzical look, but soon started relaxing in her chair and sipping on her coffee as she organized some files.
Mordin went back to his microscope, loaded in a new slide of specimen. "I am the very model of a scientist Salarian, I've studied species Turian, Asari and Batarian…"
The Master Chief awoke with a start. He sat up quickly, the part of the rough blanket covering his chest falling down into his lap. He was hot, wiping away beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.
"Bad dream?"
His eyes darted to the source of the sound, finding a small hologram of Cortana lying on her side on top of a nearby crate, head propped up by a hand on an elbow. He was still getting used to it, Cortana being able to materialize almost everywhere, courtesy of the Alliance engineers that had for whatever reason deemed it appropriate to cover almost all of the ship with holo-emitters during the Normandy retrofits.
He grunted.
Cortana shifted to sitting cross-legged, cocking her head at the Spartan. "Same one?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to tell me about it this time?"
They sat in silence for a few seconds. As in sync as the pair was, Cortana had never been able to truly read Chief's mind, or see his memories. She could only interpret Chief's physiological inputs and outputs as best as she could, draw on previous experiences between the two, and run several thousand predictions through her processing matrices. The fact that she was right so often about what her Spartan was thinking was a testament to her abilities, and the bond that they shared. But, there were still things that John could keep from her.
This was the fourth time he had had this dream, and the fourth time he hadn't explained anything to her. Cortana was ready to adopt the same brief flash of resigned annoyance when Chief inevitably kept quiet, but this time she was actually surprised.
"The Didact was above Earth," he started, and Cortana began listening with rapt attention. "Do you remember how it went?"
Her avatar nodded from her position on top of the crate serving as Chief's nightstand. "Of course. Too occupied with composing new Phoenix, the Didact ignored our defenses. The S-MAC grid and the Infinity's coordinated opening salvo blew a large hole into the Mantle's Approach. Then you fired a nuclear missile through it from the Broadsword we commandeered from Ivanoff Research Station."
The Master Chief's lips tightened. "That's not how it happens."
So, she finally knew more about what was troubling her closest friend. Cortana kept her voice soft as she prodded for more. "How does it happen in your dreams."
Now that he had finally made the decision to confide, the Spartan wasted no more time in telling her the details. "This missile didn't detach. We had to fly in and detonate manually. You hijacked into the Mantle's hard light barriers, and sacrificed yourself to save me from the blast. Then, I was alone."
"John," Cortana began, "I'm not going anywhere for a long time. On Requiem the Librarian re-wrote your code to survive the Composer, and she re-wrote mine as well - we both owe our lives to her. But I know as well as you do that we are a two-man ship. I always be navigating as long as you're at the helm."
"I know. It's the 'what ifs' that I get caught up on sometimes." The Spartan took a deep breath, then rubbed his eyes. "What's the time?"
"1300 hours," said Cortana, displaying the time in big block numbers right in front of Chief's face at the same time. "Three hours until Shepard's briefing."
Chief nodded. "I'm going to take a shower."
He was back in ten minutes, fully clean and shaven. He was dressed in the undersuit for his Mjolnir in another two minutes, then took one more to wolf down some protein meal replacement ration bars and water. Deciding that he didn't want to sit and do weapons and armor maintenance for the second time in the past 12 hours, he decided to travel to the Normandy's armory and do what? Take weapons inventory of course.
After almost an hour and a half of uninterrupted work taking inventory of the numerous Assault Rifles, Battle Rifles, Designated Marksman's Rifles, Shotguns, Squad Automatic Weapons, Sniper Rifles, Rocket Launchers, Railguns, Magnums, Submachine Guns, Spartan Lasers, Grenades, and of course the ammunition for all listed above, the elevator door slid open and Lieutenant Vega stepped out.
"Hey Chief," he said in greeting, looking at the organized chaos that was splayed out in front of him. "Inventory eh?"
The Spartan nodded in response, setting a Railgun back into its designated locker position.
"Want some help? Used to be an armory tech myself, so I know the drill more or less," he offered.
"I just finished," said Chief. "I wouldn't mind some help putting everything away."
Vega nodded his head, walking over to the Chief and the piles of UNSC weapons. "Just tell me where things go."
The pair worked quickly and efficiently and had nearly completed securing every weapon until Vega hefted a SAW for the first time. "Wow," he said. "Now what is this?"
"M739 Light Machine Gun," replied Chief. "Chambered in 7x62. Ten kilos. 64 or 128 round drum magazines.
Vega whistled, palming the weapon in his hands, eyes going over every detail and facet of the object. He quickly deduced where the safety, sight aperture, and bolt were located, racking the slide a couple of times and peering inside the interior firing mechanisms. "See, you just can't find beauties like these anymore."
"Really?" asked Chief, surprised. Most Marine squads had a squad automatic weapon in their ranks. Its power and high rate of fire was key in suppressing Covenant targets. He couldn't picture a military that didn't use at least some form of it."
"Nope," said Vega, shaking his head. He hefted the weapon to his shoulder, cheek resting on the stock. "The Alliance used Squad Automatic Weapons before being introduced to the rest of the galaxy, but they soon phased them out of service. Apparently, the rest of the Council races had decided that this strange five-weapon system was the galactic standard, so we followed their example. Sniper Rifles, Assault Rifles, Shotguns, Pistols, and Submachine Guns. Suppression and barrage fire was delegated to massed Assault Rifle fire."
The Chief found that simply ridiculous. What military would limit the equipment they could field in such an arbitrary way.
"Hey Chief," started Vega, looking at him. "Mind if I take one of these along for a spin next mission?"
The Spartan cocked his head. He didn't really see why not. In his eyes it was a good idea for anyone who wanted to to cross-train on UNSC weapon systems, and vice versa. It was why the first time they happened upon a decent range he was going to put in a request to practice with some of the weapons from the Normandy's armory.
"Only if you take is as an addition to the kit you would carry normally," said Chief.
Vega grinned. "Deal. Few extra kilos and some drum magazines is nothin'."
The Master Chief put away their last item, a Submachine gun, back in its designated locker hardpoint. He checked the time on the datapad he was using to take inventory and saw that it was nearly time for Shepard's briefing. "We should head up to the War Room."
The Alliance Lieutenant nodded in response, setting the SAW he had picked out and four 64-round drum magazines on his workbench. "Lead the way."
It didn't take long before they reached the briefing destination, and soon everyone necessary had filed in and was ready to start. Chief took a mental count of everyone present, not including himself of course. Gathered around the room was Commander Shepard, Urdnot Wrex, Doctor Solus, Garrus Vakarian, Lieutenant Vega, and the three pilots Lieutenant Cortez, Flight Sergeant Dolton, and Senior Airman Cehack.
As soon as Shepard confirmed that everybody was present he started, pulling up a holographic image of the planet Tuchanka. "We'll be arriving at Tuchanka in just over an hour. Our objective is fairly straightforward: distribute the Genophage cure to the Krogan. Not only has our resident Salarian Doctor successfully synthesized the cure, but he has also come up with the idea on how exactly to distribute said cure. Mordin?"
The Salarian stepped forwards, manipulating the hologram until it zoomed in on a portion of Tuchanka's surface whose central feature was a large pyramidal structure that had a much wider base than tip.
"This is the Shroud," he said. "Originally built to stabilize Tuchanka atmosphere due to the Krogan-induced nuclear winter. Dispenses particles into atmosphere that spread to impact entire planet. Can repurpose to distribute Genophage cure through atmosphere."
Mordin zoomed the hologram out a tad, a large circle highlighting the desert wastelands and ancient ruins surrounding the Shroud. "Circle represents estimated activity radius of Kalros, Mother of all Thresher Maws."
"Hold on," started Vega, holding up a hand. "Did you say, Mother of all Thresher Maws? You just mean a really big thresher maw, right?"
"No. Literal mother of all thresher maws," clarified Mordin. "Very large, very aggressive, very territorial."
"They built the Shroud in Kalros' living grounds in order to deter attempts at sabotage," said Wrex, who was leaning against a console with his arms crossed. "For the most part it's worked."
"What this means is that a ground approach would be out of the question. Too much risk," said Shepard. "Instead, we'll be taking our shuttlecraft to the Shroud."
"First we stop at The Hollows," Wrex said. I've already sent out an order for all Clan heads to meet there once we arrive in-system. I need to let them know our plans, lest some eager Krogan get too jumpy on their anti-aircraft guns as we pass through their airspace on the way to the Shroud."
Shepard nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem. Wouldn't want any mix-ups that could jeopardize the mission."
"Commander, what's the expected enemy strength?" asked Chief, his first words of the briefing.
Shepard shared a glance with Wrex before looking back at the Spartan. "Hopefully nothing more than a few angry Varren packs. If we're truly unlucky, we'll have to deal with Kalros. As far as Reaper intervention, Wrex says that there's been no sightings so far, but we're going to stay ready. Tuchanka isn't that far from Turian space. I expect everyone dressed in full combat gear."
The Commander shifted on the balls of his feet. "If the Reapers do decide to make an appearance we're lucky to have the support of a Turian Legionare Expeditionary Carrier and it's two escort frigates."
"Legionaries?" asked Garrus. "You mean the 26th Armigers?"
Shepard nodded in response. "A squadron of fighters and two companies of light mechanized infantry. Survivors from Palaven."
"If the Reapers do decide to show up they'll be in for a rough surprise," commented Garrus. "The 26th Armigers are a hard bunch."
"Yes, if all goes according to plan we'll be in an out in no time and the Genophage will be cured," said Shepard, knowing full well that things rarely went exactly according to plan. "Get armed and armored up. We'll be heading groundside as soon as we arrive. Dismissed."
Special thanks to my betas JonHarper and Bearmauls