"We are going to a garbage planet." Michael rubbed his forehead. "Why does that not surprise me at all?"

"Join my crew, Shepard said." Garrus checked his ammo block. "It'll be fun, Shepard said. Free beer and beautiful women, Shepard said."

"Hey." Michael glared at him. "I never said anything about the beer being free." He glanced over his shoulder at Jacob. "Does this AI have a bartender function?"

"Afraid not." Jacob shook his head.

"Now that's a design flaw if I ever saw one." Michael sighed. "Hey, EDI?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Download and install a bartender function."

"Make sure it includes the dextro package," Garrus added.

"I will add that to the list, Commander."

Michael turned towards Garrus. "Is it wrong that I'm a little proud my ship is sarcastic?"

#

"The dossier doesn't say if Okeer is on this planet by choice." Michael glanced back at his companions. Miranda still wasn't wearing proper armor. It was tempting to shoot her in the ass. "Assume hostiles."

They started in, and he heard a voice come over the loudspeakers. "There is only one measure of success: kill or be killed. Perfection is your goal."

"Canned orders over loudspeakers?" Jacob shook his head.

"All right, that settles it." Michael rubbed his forehead. "Just shoot everyone." He gestured at Miranda and Jacob. "Good cop, bad cop, hold the fallback point. The rest of you with me."

#

Michael signaled to hold fire, then walked towards the wounded mercenary. "Shit. Shit." It won't stop bleeding..." The man started getting up. "I'm gonna..." He glanced up and saw them. "Son of a bitch."

"Doesn't look that bad, actually." Garrus glanced at Michael

"He doesn't need to know that." Michael shrugged

"I knew it wasn't berserkers. Not at range. You're mercs. Or Alliance. I'm not..." The man staggered a little. "I'm not telling you anything."

Ah, false bravado. The best kind. "You're not in the best bargaining position. I'm looking for a krogan named Okeer."

"Who?" The man blinked. "You already know more than I do. I just kill krogan. The old one in the lab dumps crazy ones down here all the time." He glanced around him. "Jedore hired him to make her an army, but the krogan he creates are insane, so we use them for live ammo training. It's all crap; I don't get paid enough to goddamn bleed out."

A voice came over the radio. "Outpost Four? Jedore wants us to move. We need coordinates on that krogan pack."

"You heard the man on the radio." Michael set the tip of his pistol right between the man's eyes. "He needs direction."

The man went cross-eyed. "I..." He swallowed. "I don't have the info they want. You showed up before I could get my normal sightings."

He twisted the pistol slightly. "You have other problems."

"Patrol, uh, pack sighting east of Station Two?" The man fumbled with his radio. "Yeah."

"Copy. East of Two."

"Son of a bitch. They'll run blind into krogan." The man swallowed.

"Sucks to be them." Michael narrowed his eyes. "Have you seen Okeer? Does he know about all of this?"

"We can't go in the labs, but everyone sees what happens when the krogan come out. I've shot hundreds. They're crazy. Mindless." The man tried to move his head back from the pistol tip, and Michael merely moved closer. "Anyone up there, they know what's going on."

"If you start limping now, you might find a shady spot before you bleed out." Michael holstered his pistol.

The man wasted no time stumbling away. "Shit. Shit."

"Adding insult to injury. Literally." Mordin glanced at the fleeing man. "Necessary?"

"Maybe not." Michael shrugged. "Felt good though."

#

"Garrus..." Michael came up and fired, taking out one of the mercs that had been preparing to fire a rocket launcher. "Are they really shooting at us with Pauldron rifles?"

"I don't know about you..." Garrus put a round into a tank, which promptly blew up, taking a half dozen mercenaries with it. "But I intend to send a sternly worded letter."

#

He held up a fist to stop the others from shooting as the krogan turned towards them. It approached Michael slowly. "You..." It stopped a pace away. "Are different. New. You don't smell like this world. Seven night cycles, and I have felt only the need to kill. But you..." It tilted its head. "Something makes me speak."

"Night cycles?" Garrus shook his head. "Seven days."

"He must know something about all this if he survived this long." Michael looked the krogan over. Its armor was battered, but functional. Its face was hidden by the helmet. He was fairly sure krogan was male though.

"Survive..." The krogan nodded. "Yes, I must survive. But not here. Not against these fleshy shapes. I must survive against the enemy that threatens all my kind. But I failed, even before leaving glass mother. That is what the voice in the water said. That is why I wait here."

This was giving him a headache. Michael sighed. "Can you show me the laboratory? I need to speak to Okeer."

"The..." The krogan nodded. "Glass mother. She is up. Past the broken parts. Behind many of you fleshy things. I will show you." He walked over towards one of the piles of wreckage, then grabbed a chunk of bulkhead. Michael's eyes widened slightly as the krogan simply picked it up and moved it out of his way. "Grr." He tossed the metal aside.

"Glad he's friendly." Garrus clicked his mandibles.

"You fleshy things are slow when big things are in your way." The krogan stepped aside to let them pass.

What the hell? "Can you show us the way? Help us fight to the lab?"

"No."

He exchanged a look with Garrus. Garrus gave the krogan an odd look. "A krogan refusing to fight?"

"I will fight if they come, but I feel it deep that I must wait." The krogan stepped back. "I kill, but only here. I am not perfect, but I have purpose. I must wait until called. Released."

Slowly, Michael nodded. Then he drew his sidearm, and headed in.

#

They fought there was through. Michael couldn't help but feel amused at the panic coming over the radios of the mercenaries. "Kind of makes you wonder how much they were getting paid for this."

Garrus shrugged. "Not enough." He sniped a mercenary that was dumb enough to try shooting at them instead of running. "You know, we never discussed my salary."

"I'll pay you the same as I'm making." Michael shrugged.

"That's..." Garrus sighed. "He's not paying you, is he?"

Michael put a round between the eyes of another of the attackers. "There is something to be said for job satisfaction." He shrugged. "And you can always help Kasumi and I rob a bank later."

"I have some suggestions." Kasumi's voice came from somewhere to their left.

Garrus jumped, then shook his head. "You know, I actually forgot she was there."

#

The krogan at the workstation glanced at them. "Here you are. I've watched your progress." He turned toward them. "It's about time. The batteries on these tanks will not wait while you play with these idiotic mercs."

Michael holstered his sidearm. "Not the smartest way to greet the heavily armed group that just kicked in your door."

"I'm sure whoever sent you doesn't want me dead. No one looks for me without a motive. Certainly not the deceased Shepard." The warlord shrugged. "Surprised? All krogan should know you. Or have you forgotten your actions on Virmire."

He narrowed his eyes. Virmire was not something he was going to forget. "I'm sure you're eager to retell the story."

"Such a tale." Okeer gestured as he spoke. "Saren, the Spectre traitor, threatens the return of the krogan horde by curing the genophage, undoing the gentle genocide of the turians and salarians." He waved a hand. "But before Saren can deliver his endless troops, in rides Shepard, securing victory through nuclear fire. I like that part. It has weight."

"I make no apologies." He shrugged. "It was the most efficient solution."

"But I approve." Okeer walked toward him. "Saren's pale horde were not true krogan. Numbers alone are nothing. The mistake of an outsider, one these mercenaries have also made." He turned towards the window, lifting his hands. "I gave their leader my rejects for her army. But she grows impatient. It's time for you to take me out of here."

Michael glanced at Garrus. "Tim's just fucking with me, isn't he?"

Mordin shook his head. "Personal issues irrelevant. Here for the Collectors."

"I see." Okeer turned back toward them. "Collector attacks have increased. A human concern. My requests were focused elsewhere." He looked toward a tank which contained another of the krogan. "I acquired the knowledge to create one pure soldier. With that, I will inflict upon the genophage the greatest insult an enemy can suffer. To be ignored."

"I'm getting you out of here." Michael rubbed his forehead. "Cerberus had interrogators who can figure out if you're useful or not."

Okeer narrowed his eyes. "Any group that spent enough to rebuild you won't care what it does to me. Perhaps we can strike a deal. One that secures my prototype. It is key."

Before Michael could reply, a voice came over the loudspeakers. "Attention. I have traced the krogran release. Okeer, of course." Okeer went to the window and looked out, shaking his head at whatever lay on the other side. "I'm calling 'blank slate' on this project. Gas these commandoes and start over from Okeer's data. Flush the tanks."

And gas started coming in through the vents. Wonderful. Michael reached for his helmet.

"She's that weak-willed?" Okeer walked to a console. "She'll kill my legacy with a damned valve." He looked over his shoulder. "Shepard. You want information on the Collectors? Stop her. She'll try to access contaminants in the storage bay."

"Sorry, doctor, it appears your position has just weakened." Michael shrugged.

"I understand. But you'll have nothing if she poisons us all." Okeer looked toward the tank again. "Jedore will be with the rejected tanks. Kill here. I will..." He leaned on the tank. "Stay and do what must be done."

#

"Join the military." Michael fired a round.

"See the sights of the universe." Garrus tossed a grenade towards a group of mercenaries.

"Encounter new cultures." Michael leapt down the stairs, stabbing his omniblade into a mercenary before firing off a few more shots.

"Meet interesting people." Garrus provided some cover fire.

They nodded to each other before speaking simultaneously. "And shoot them."

#

Michael threw another grenade at the massive mech. "You know, I tried to requisition an Atlas once."

"Really?" Garrus dove into cover.

"Yeah. Anderson gave me this big lecture about expense and proper use of resources." Michael moved to the other side, forcing the mech to divide its attention. Mordin laid down some cover fire before getting out of the way himself. "Apparently, those things are pretty pricey."

"Then why do all these half-assed mercenary groups have them?" Garrus actually stopped firing and shook his head.

"See, that's what I was about to ask you."

"Think Tim will give us one?" Garrus fired a final round into the Atlas, and it started shorting. Sparks flew, and then it exploded. "And I think this round goes to me."

"How do you figure?" Michael holstered his rifle.

"I got the Atlas." Garrus stood.

"That's only one kill." Michael shook his head. "Frankly, I'm impressed that pea-shooter of yours got through its armor at all."

"Pea..." Garrus narrowed his eyes. "Shooter?"

"I mean, when I invited you along on this mission, I thought you'd actually bring some weaponry." Michael started for the door.

"Pea..." Garrus's mandibles clicked. "Shooter?"

EDI's voice came over the comm. "Shepard, the lab alarms coincided with a systems failure. The remaining lab systems are unprotected, and I have gained limited access. According to lab scanners, the room is flooded with toxins, and Okeer's personal life signs are failing rapidly. I recommend haste."

They started moving.

#

"You gave me time, Shepard. If I knew why the Collectors wanted humans, I would tell you." Okeer's voice came from the recording. The warlord himself lay unmoving on the ground. "But everything is in my prototype. My legacy is pure. This..." The voice coughed. "One soldiers, this grunt. Perfect."

Michael looked over the tank. Yep, it definitely contained a krogan. Garrus shook his head. "Why would someone so fanatical sacrifice himself for one krogan?"

"Delusional." Mordin shook his head. "Unlikely one krogan, however strong, could have impact Okeer wanted. Am..." Mordin tilted his head. "Almost certain."

"Comforting."

"Suggest leaving it." Mordin shrugged.

"I'm aware of your bias regarding the krogan. I decide what best serves our mission." Michael touched the tank. "Which means we've got a new hood ornament." He touched his communicator.

Garrus put a hand on Michael's shoulder. Michael looked up at him. Garrus narrowed his eyes. "Pea shooter?"

#

Miranda was pacing. "Bringing the krogan in for study makes sense, but I have concerns about waking it."

Jacob looked across the table at her. "Yeah, you've said that a few times now."

"A normal krogan is dangerous. This one was created, and likely educated, by a madman."

Michael folded his arms. "I see everyone's enjoying the new paperweight. Concerns?"

"We don't know anything about it, Commander." Miranda put a hand on her hip as she turned to face him.

"EDI, how quickly can the cargo hold be vented to space if there's an issue?" Michael glanced at the console.

"Twenty-eight seconds, Shepard."

She narrowed her eyes. "And if anyone else is in the hold at the time?"

He glanced at the console again. "EDI, how many other crew are on board the Normandy?"

"Twenty-four permanent crew, Shepard."

Michael shrugged at Miranda, who shook her head. "It's your decision, Commander. Just be careful."

"Noted." He let his arms fall to his sides. "The cargo hold is safe enough while I decide what to do with him.

#

The two engineers were pleased when he stopped to check in. A little enthusiastic, but they seemed to know their jobs. He noted the part they needed before heading in to the cargo hold. It was a little annoying how some of the Cerberus folks were starting to have names.

"The subject is stable, Shepard. Integration with onboard systems was seamless."

Michael examined the tank. The krogan inside was at least as big as Wrex, though the fact that the head plate hadn't fused together left him wondering if it'd yet reached full growth. "Can he see anything in there? Does he know where he is?"

"Unlikely. Current neural patterns indicate minimal cognition." EDI's voice answered. "Barring ship-wide power loss, the nutrients in the tank could sustain him for over a year."

"Well, according to the calendar, I am due for doing something really stupid." Michael shrugged. "Stand by. I'm going to open the tank and let him out."

"Cerberus protocol is very clear regarding untested alien technology."

"As near as I can tell, Cerberus protocol regarding untested alien technology is to mess with it until it produces something that eats you." Michael shook his head. "And can I just say it's a bit disturbing to be second-guessed on my own ship, by my own ship? Just open the tank."

"Very well, Shepard. The controls are online. The switch - and the consequences - are yours."

And now he was feeling guilty for hurting his ship's feelings. That was a new one. He took a deep breath, and hit the switch. Fluid flooded out of the tank, and a few moments later, the krogan fell to the ground. It coughed up the liquid before rising. Okay, maybe the guy was just a tad larger than Wrex. Michael approached.

The krogan narrowed his eyes, and then bull rushed Michael into the bulkhead. "Human. Male. Before you die, I need a name." His elbow pressed into Michael's neck.

Well, this was going splendidly. "I'm Commander Shepard of the Normandy."

"Not your name. Mine. I am trained. I know things, but the tank..." The krogan shook his head. "Okeer couldn't implant connection. His words are hollow. Warlord, legacy, grunt..." The krogan nodded. "Grunt. 'Grunt' was among the last. It has no meaning. It'll do." He narrowed his eyes at Michael. "I am Grunt. If you are worthy of your command, prove your strength and try to destroy me."

Krogan diplomacy. Fine, he could work with that. "Why do you want me to try to kill you?"

"Want? I do what I am meant to - fight and reveal the strongest. Nothing in the tank ever asked what I want." He slowly nodded. "I feel nothing for Okeer's clan or his enemies. That imprint failed. He has failed." Grunt shrugged. "Without a reason that's mine, one fight is as good as any other. Might as well start with you."

"I took you, and I released you. Follow my command, and you'll have purpose."

"Nothing in the tank imprints indicated humans could be so forceful. You command as though you've earned it."

"My enemies threaten galaxies. Everyone on my ship has earned their place." Close enough to the truth, anyway. Everyone on the ship that mattered.

"Hmmm. Hmph. That's..." Grunt nodded. "Acceptable. I'll fight for you."

"I'm glad you saw reason." Michael shifted the pistol in his hand, where it was pressed against Grunt's ribs.

Grunt looked down at it, and then laughed. "Ha. Offer one hand, but arm the other." He released Michael and stepped backward. "Wise, Shepard. If I find a clan, if I find what I..." Grunt shrugged again. "I want, I will be honored to eventually pit them against you."

So. They had a krogan. Now they just needed a quarian, and they'd have everything they needed to save the galaxy.

#

Michael stepped out of the elevator. Garrus stood in the corridor. "Pea-shooter?"

"We've got a new krogan." Michael gestured back over his shoulder. "Name's Grunt. Nice kid. Only tried to kill me a little." He shrugged. "Now, I think we get to go break someone out of prison."

"Miranda said Cerberus arranged for their release." Garrus fell into step with Michael.

"Yeah, cause that's going to go as planned."

"I'll grab some more grenades." Garrus split off from him.

He grabbed some food, and headed back up to his quarters. The communicator light was beeping. Michael set the plate down, and stared at the messages. A note from Tim, some news feeds, and... And that was it.

A look down at the plate revealed he'd lost his appetite. It took a few seconds before he could tip the plate into the garbage rather than fling it against the wall.

#

Kaidan stepped back and kicked the console. Like everything else he'd tried, it failed to fix the problem. He was starting to suspect something was deliberately sabotaging the guns.

He glanced at the communicator, and considered playing the message again. His mother was absolutely thrilled at the idea of hosting Brekin and his family, and was now trying to convince him to put in for shore leave and join them. Any other month, the offer might be tempting. He just wasn't sure he could take his mother fussing over him.

"You're acting like a spurned teenager." His reflection in the metal surface narrowed its eyes back at him. "What would you even say if he did call, right now?" Kaidan shook his head. "Stupid."

The console blinked again, and Kaidan sat back down and returned to work.