Torin: Turian male over the age of 15
Buratrum: The turian version of hell
Tarc: Turian expletive the equivalent of shit.
69 Days ASR 0436 hours (Approaching orbit of Tuchanka)
"Captain Shepard?"
EDI's voice in Shepard's ear grabbed the captain by the heels and yanked her out of a perfectly lovely dream about wandering in the warm, Illium surf, her fingers laced with Nihlus's on the ocean side and Garrus's on the landward side. Without opening her eyes, she let out a rough sigh, her words sliding along the downward slope of a yawn. "What is it, EDI?"
"Urdnot Wrex is on the comms demanding to talk to you and General Vakarian," the AI said, an unusual depth of gravitas colouring her tone. "When I told him you were sleeping, he threatened to throw a thresher maw named Kalros at the Ypres. I was not aware the krogan named thresher maws. I am now curious as to whether this one is kept as a companion animal."
Gentle fingers lifted Nihlus's arm just far enough for Shepard to slip out from under it. His snore lifted from deep sleep to a lighter level, but he didn't wake. Thank the freakin' father of light. Her beautiful torin hadn't gotten more than a few minutes at a time in days. She got up and tiptoed to the closet. She'd dress in the washroom.
Once the door closed behind her, she activated her comms. "Tell Wrex that Garrus and I will be right there. Did you wake the general?"
"No, Captain. I alerted you first." Must be nice to have no need for sleep.
Shepard yawned and plunked down on the toilet. "Right. Okay, wake General Vakarian and have him meet me in the briefing room as soon as he can get there."
Shepard heard Wrex before she even made it all the way through the lab Mordin had claimed as his territory. Garrus must have gotten there first and tried to intercept the incoming shit storm. Unsuccessfully, by the sheer volume and fury vibrating through the walls. Sweet baby Jesus, Wrex would wake the crew two decks down.
She palmed the door control and stepped through to see Garrus leaning against the conference table, his palms flat against the surface, arms braced. Walking up behind him, she pressed her palm against the oh-so-warm hollow just below his cowl.
"Where's Shepard, Vakarian? Didn't that damned machine tell her it was important?" Shrill and tight—for Wrex anyway—the krogan's voice pounded at Shepard's head with more force than his fists. Blessed fucking Enkindlers, what happened down there? "Get her! Now!"
"Jesus, Wrex, I'm right here, and for the sake of the insomniac Enkindlers, stop screaming. It's the middle of gamma shift up here." Leaving her hand on the small of Garrus's back, she turned into the table, her hip against the edge. "Tell me what's going on without the shouting."
"You were taking too long to get here." Agitated pacing came across through his breathing as clearly as his anger registered through his voice. "So I took a team in and raided the Weyrloc base." The agitation rose; the strain in Wrex's voice palpable, almost frantic. If she'd been talking to anyone else, she would have thought him on the verge of panic. "Bakara's nearly dead. I shouldn't have waited for you!" His agonized roar forced her hands up over her ears. "Are you even coming, or did you lie to me?"
"Damn it, Wrex! You were supposed to wait." She and Garrus said it in stereo, but only Shepard continued on. "I thought we decided to maintain the peace on Tuchanka by sending in a neutral—"
"They were torturing and killing our females, and you weren't coming," the krogan bellowed, cutting her off. "And they'd taken my scouts, holding them prisoner to experiment on them." He chuffed, the sound loud enough that she winced. "You haven't seen the bodies, Shepard! It's worse than Korlus. Bakara …."
"Wrex, calm the fuck down. Of course we were coming, but even for you, I couldn't break the laws of physics to get us here any faster. We're in orbit." She raked her fingers through her sleep-tousled waves. Somehow, she needed to reach Wrex through the freak out and get him focused.
Stepping closer to her husband, Shepard took refuge from the daggers and bullets flying out of the speakers … and from the sudden fear scratching at the back of her skull. "Wrex, for Bakara's sake, you've got to pull yourself together. She needs you to stay calm and look after her. Screaming isn't going to fix anything." She activated EDI's interface and whispered, "Volume to fifty percent, please, EDI."
Wrex continued to shout, but at least the impact lessened. "When we reached the lab, we captured a salarian researcher. He was killing and torturing human and krogan prisoners, experimenting on them to cure the genophage for Weyrloc."
Shepard heard something crash off into the distance: kicked, no doubt. Her breath caught in her throat, and she looked up into Garrus's eyes, her mind racing. A salarian? What the hell would a salarian be doing on Tuchanka working with Weyrloc? The Blood Pack must have snatched him from somewhere, taken him prisoner and forced him to work on a cure. But how would Weyrloc or the Blood Pack get ahold of a cure? Saren maybe? Although, he certainly wouldn't have shared his cure willingly. He wanted to enslave the krogan. Maybe someone smuggled the cure out of his lab? Had someone other than Archangel been working on a cure?
She hit the mute control: best they didn't give Wrex any more ammunition. "We're not missing anyone or any data back at Archangel, are we?" she asked Garrus. Judging by the subvocal that squeezed out past her husband's clenched jaw, Garrus's thoughts ran along the same lines.
He pulled away, the bare pads of his talons skating along her jaw. "I'll run out to the lab and call Chakwas and then Archangel."
Shepard nodded, and opened the channel. "Wrex, has the salarian said anything? Has he given you any information about where he comes from? How he got there? Anything?" As she spoke, she leaned, palms braced against the table.
"No." Wrex rumbled but when he spoke, he'd wrestled his temper down to a dull roar. "No time. Beating answers out of him can wait. Weyrloc and the Blood Pack have us pinned down and outnumbered." He let out a roar that sounded like the bastard offspring of hysteria and frustrated rage.
As much as she wanted to tell him that she'd told him so, she really enjoyed her arms being attached to her shoulders. Shoving herself away from the conference table, she paced. "Do you have the females and the salarian with you? Are you in a secure enough location that you can hold out for a couple of hours?"
"Yeah, Grunt and I've got them. We're trapped inside the lab on the lowest sublevel at the back of the facility." Shepard heard gunfire in the background. "But we won't be for long if you don't get your asses down here."
"Understood." Shepard brought up a tactical long range scan, homing in on Wrex's comm signal. "EDI, give me the best resolution you can—I need to see where the enemy is—and send it to my omnitool. General Vakarian and Lt. Commander Alenko will need copies of these scans as well. Also, upload them to the shuttles and have the VI's prep both shuttles for launch. Maintain active scans for the duration of the operation."
"Of course, Shepard," the AI replied. "Displaying tactical scan." The holographic image appeared in the center of the table.
"Damn, that's a lot of bad guys." Shepard spun to face Garrus as he walked in, the torin shaking his head. Well, at least it wasn't anyone from Archangel. That might prevent Wrex going to war against them.
"Wrex," Garrus spoke up, leaning in to study the schematic of the base, "since Weyrloc knows you're there, send up a comm flare so that we can pinpoint our strafing attacks. We're going to have to use the cannons on the shuttles if we're going to get to you before you're overwhelmed." He glanced to Shepard and pointed to the outer parts of the base where the Weyrloc reinforcements mustered before moving in. She nodded, seeing the same thing he saw. If they moved quickly enough, they could take out a couple hundred krogan without getting out of the shuttles.
"This is a hospital, Vakarian," Wrex replied, still furious and loud, but at least he'd lost the rampage-level fury. "It's built to survive bombardment and blood rage."
"Are there weak points?" Garrus wrapped his arm around Shepard, pulling her in against his side. "You're down there, and you're krogan; you know better than anyone how to attack it. Send us your tactical assessment. We'll have two shuttles in position to attack within ninety minutes."
Shepard glanced over at the AI's glowing interface. "EDI, download every scrap of material you can dig out of the base computers. If they were working on a genophage cure, I want to know everything. Then, scorch the earth." Hearing Wrex's growl on the comms, Shepard shook her head. "We'll have the data to keep working on it, Wrex, but ethically and safely and so that Weyrloc doesn't leave the rest of the krogan sterile long enough to wipe you off the planet."
She patted Garrus's arm and nodded toward the door. "We're on our way. When you hear the shuttles incoming, get everyone under good, solid cover. I want to drop that hospital on their heads, and extract you without having to fight a thousand or so krogan and vorcha." Turning away from the display, she strode for the door. When she paused at the threshold to wait for Garrus, something occurred to her. "Wrex, there aren't going to be any Weyrloc females or pups in the line of fire, are there?"
"No," the krogan replied, "their female camp is on the other side of their territory."
Well, thank god for that much, at least. Wiping out a thousand Blood Pack members could be seen as performing a galactic service; females and children amounted to something else entirely.
"Send up that flare, Wrex," Garrus said, striding toward her. "We're on our way."
They remained silent until they reached the elevator. Shepard called it to take her up to her quarters before turning to face him. "Get the others up and ready, we'll launch as soon as the shuttles are prepped. I'll be down right behind you."
Garrus grabbed her hand, squeezing it before letting her go. "The mortal mind has yet to devise a plan that Wrex can't send straight to buratrum. I've heard him furious before, but never that … out of control."
She nodded. "He's freaking out, which has me ever so slightly freaked out." Fighting to see the bright side of everything going tits up, she said, "I don't know … if we get them out alive, he might have saved us a long, hot day choking on sand." She gave him a weak grin and punched the control for her cabin. Nihlus needed to get sorted before she took off to blow up krogan. "I'll be down in a sec."
69 Days ASR 0519 hours (Orbit of Tuchanka)
Shepard paused at her cabin door and looked back at Nihlus. Relieved to see that he'd lost the haze clouding his eyes, she grinned and reached up to caress his mandible. "Now, I want you to behave yourself for the doc. I don't want to come home and find out you've been giving her a hard time." She bit the inside of her lip to kill her grin. "Take your medicine, eat all your meals, and when she says it's bedtime … it's bedtime, buster."
A wry chuckle accompanied the arms that reached out to pull her into his embrace. "Thank you, haksaya kubenar, one can never be made to feel like a misbehaving child too often." His mouth plates were warm and rough against her temple. "Be careful. Wrex has been unpredictable at best the last few months. He doesn't seem to trust anyone."
Shepard kissed him and pulled away. "Yeah, I'll stay sharp, don't worry. We'll keep in touch." She palmed the door control, grinned and winked, and then stepped out, her focus clicking over from Nihlus to the mission.
Wrex jumping off the marker ahead of the race had both fucked things up royally and helped the team avoid a long ground battle. The plan had been for her to take a large team in and extract the females with as little bloodshed as possible. War between Weyrloc and Urdnot meant Wrex's fledgling coalition taking on the Blood Pack. With the gang having so many fingers in so many clans, Urdnot would be hard pressed to survive that war.
Yeah, she definitely didn't like it. Damn it, Wrex. Going into Weyrloc territory meant tweaking the nose of a very large, angry beast, and now she'd be wiping most of that beast out. Depending how Wrex played things afterward, that could make his attempts to unite the clans either a lot easier or impossible. If current history gave any indication, he'd be at war with the entire planet by the end of the day.
Even once they brought down the parts of the hospital a safe distance from Wrex's position, she still anticipated a healthy dose of vengeful Blood Pack krogan and vorcha wielding rocket launchers and flamethrowers. Not really something to get too gleeful over.
Although, come on, admit it, you know that you feel a very disturbing sort of glee when an overload or well-placed round made the pyros go boom.
Glee was a strange word. Guh-lee. Gleeeeeeeee.
Anyway …. No matter how many of their members the shuttles killed, Shepard knew Weyrloc would make them fight for every centimetre of ground. Definitely an 'all boots on the ground' sort of op.
And that's not even the worst of it. You know that sort of freak out is unusual for Wrex. Something's really wrong down there.
She shoved those thoughts to the back burner. Worrying about Wrex could simmer until she had time and information to figure it all out. The elevator stopped, pulling her the rest of the way into the here and now.
Despite the early hour, the doors opened onto a bustling cargo bay. Both shuttles hovered just above the floor as their VIs ran preflight checks, and the teams geared up at their lockers. She stood just over the threshold for a moment, watching her people work. Martin and Jack traded friendly blows, fighting over a crate of heat sinks. Sparky, Thane, and Garrus looked to be discussing something very important as they stood shoulder to shoulder at the weapons bench, checking their rifles. Samara, Vincent, and Tali stood next to the second shuttle, talking.
Shepard shivered, the cargo bay air cold on her bare arms and legs. Damn, she needed to get into her underlayer. But first ….
"Good morning, brave adventurers!" she shouted, throwing her hands into the air. Everyone jumped, Sparky's assault rifle clattering as it hit the bench and then bounced off onto the floor. She grinned and wriggled her eyebrows at the chorus of cussing. "Why so grumpy? Smiles, everyone. Smiles! It's a gorgeous day for an adventure on sunny Tuchanka, home of 'even the plants will eat you alive'. Glory hallelujah and praise the mighty Enkindlers."
She waved them all over. "Now to business. Sparky, you and Tali are the pilot/gunner team for Shuttle Two. The general and I will take Shuttle One. Wrex will be sending intel on the base, but the hospital is a hard target. Expect to take ground fire. We'll attack in turns, one shuttle making a run while the other covers it, then vice versa. We have friendlies on the ground, so pinpoint accuracy is going to be important."
She paused, meeting each set of eyes before she spoke again. "Weyrloc has grabbed and tortured humans, Urdnot females and scouts, as well as a salarian. We believe they're trying to cure the genophage and use it as a weapon against the rest of the clans. As much as I support the krogan and finding a cure, eventually Weyrloc will set the Blood Pack on the rest of the galaxy." A firm nod emphasized her point.
"Let's make sure that doesn't happen. Comms open to team channel at all times." She took a deep breath and shrugged. "Once we've thinned the crowd, we'll land and go in as a single team. This isn't at all the mission we thought we were heading into, but let's make sure that at the end of the day, we all come home and the Weyrloc don't. Make sure you've got lots of water and energy bars … and indoctrination serum. Dismissed."
There it was. Damn. She sighed. Fine, Wrex being indoctrinated needed to remain a concern, but for right then, Blood Pack and their guns need to take priority.
Finishing with a sweeping bow, she jogged over to the bank of lockers in the impromptu armory, every muscle coiled and eager for action. Despite the possibility of impending disaster and Wrex's weirdness, it would feel good to get off the ship and stretch her legs. Gentle workouts with Nihlus amounted to her only breaks from the confines of her cabin over the past few days, and she longed to smell anything other than stale ozone, vomit, and sweat.
"Which locker is mine?" she called across the bay.
"The one that says 'Shepard'," Vincent hollered over his shoulder as he hopped up into the second shuttle.
She grinned. "That's way too damned easy to be intuitive." She opened the door that indeed boasted her ownership in large, block letters. "And the sign is way too big. How am I supposed to see that?"
Two days before, she'd ordered Vincent to move everything down to the cargo bay, and despite not knowing what was where, she knew the convenience would outweigh the short term chaos and confusion. Having to gear up on the CIC deck made no sense. If anyone forgot a piece of gear, the entire team had to wait ten minutes for them to take the elevator up and then back down. Once the Ypres returned to Omega, she'd have the Archangel engineers make the changes permanent.
"Shepard?" Kaidan asked, walking up behind her. "May I speak with you for a second?"
Lifting her underlayer off its hook, she turned to face the Lt. Commander. "Sure, Sparky, speak away." She stepped into the leg, balancing on one foot as she tugged the material on. When he didn't immediately speak up, she stopped and met his gaze, finding it serious and unsettled.
She rested her hand on the Marine's shoulder. "Come on, cough it up, we're in a hurry. What's going on?"
He spent the next several seconds looking as though he might change his mind and retreat back to the weapon bench, but then let out a noisy breath. "I'm nervous about what Cerberus did to you, Shepard." After another, grumbling breath, he shrugged. "How am I supposed to know who or what you are?" The pained look on his face burrowed into Shepard's chest and wrapped cold fingers around her heart.
"I know the doc said that you're the same woman we knew before." He shifted a little foot to foot, looking so miserable that she squeezed his shoulder, a silent encouragement to finish what he was saying. "But I don't trust Cerberus. How are we supposed to trust you knowing that those monsters took your body and did God knows what to it?"
Shepard shook her head, just a slight tremor back and forth, her shoulders lifting in a small, helpless roll. "You don't, Sparky. Well I mean, you do and you obey orders—so far everything seems business as usual inside the old brain pan—but you keep your wits about you and your mind active and you never trust Cerberus." She stepped forward, tightening her grip on his shoulder as she met his awkward stare with resolve. "I've been in this body for two months now as it healed. I remember. I love. I feel like me, but we've also had to fry a control chip that Cerberus implanted." She patted his cheek. "Even I don't know if I can be completely trusted. All I can do is put one foot in front of the other and hope that time proves out that I really am me."
Kaidan nodded. "Surprisingly, that makes me feel better." He stepped back. "Thanks, Shepard. I know you're probably sick of going over this ground with everyone."
Shepard tossed him her back plate. "Here, you can make it up to me by helping me gear up."
"Shepard!" Three minutes later, her name echoed down the shuttle bay, the last syllable sharp enough to draw blood.
Glancing over her shoulder, Shepard smiled as she greeted the salarian scientist, "Dr. Solus, how may I be of service this fantastic morning of everyone screaming my name and giving me bad news? Lay it on me; how can you help my day head straight into 'sandpaper toilet tissue on chapped ass' land?"
The salarian's brow furrowed as he stared at her, no doubt trying to figure out whatever his translator had done with her words. He cleared his throat, curled fingers held to his mouth. "Apologies for late notice but wish to accompany you to Tuchanka."
Taken aback by the request, Shepard drew back, her eyebrows climbing toward her hairline. "Why? You've never requested to come along on a mission before." She watched him, not missing the discomfort twitching beneath his usual inability to remain still. She got the distinct feeling that Mordin's inquiry had a great deal to do with the captured salarian. Fuck-a-doodle-doo. If she got through the day without Wrex killing someone or having to kill Wrex, she'd be fucking amazed.
Glancing toward Kaidan, she said, "Thanks, Sparky. I can finish up."
Once Kaidan moved out of earshot, Shepard nodded Mordin in closer. "What's going on, Doc? Is your inner adventurer making himself known or is it something else?"
"Your habit of speaking without making sense … alarming." Mordin cleared his throat again and started pacing three strides then back. "Have not spoken of this. Certain of negative judgement considering general's attachment to Urdnot Wrex."
Holding up a finger, Shepard shushed him. "Sure, you can stick with me. I may need a scientific point of view. Just give me a minute to grab my weapons, and then meet me in shuttle one. We can discuss this where we're certain others won't be able to listen in." She pulled on her boot, snapping the closures. "I'll have the general join us, if that's all right?"
Mordin nodded, a quick jerk of his head, and hurried toward the shuttle. Shepard watched him go before reaching for her other boot. Taking note of the SMG and pistol on his hips, she shook her head and chose to believe he came prepared in case she agreed to let him join the team rather than because he assumed she would.
She finished suiting up, hung Ingrid and her still unnamed Mattock on her back, then strode over to the weapon bench. "Join me in shuttle one?" she asked Garrus, slipping her hand through the crook of his elbow. "If his agitation level is any indication, I get the feeling that Mordin is about to drop a bomb on us."
Garrus nodded, then looked to Thane. "Get everyone on shuttle two?"
The drell nodded, the gesture carrying enough weight to be a bow.
Shepard grinned as she led Garrus away. "You and Sere Krios seem to have bonded over the last few days." She looked up to meet his gaze, drinking him in. They'd spent a couple hours a day together, but still … she missed him like crazy.
"He's a sniper," Garrus said, the simple declaration saying everything that needed to be said. He let out a long breath that rolled with heavy subvocals. "Wrex's behaviour … are we thinking indoctrination?"
Shepard nodded. "Unfortunately." Seeing Jack and Martin heading for the shuttle, she cut them off. "Take the other shuttle down, guys. We'll meet you there." Stabbing the air with her index finger, she cut Martin off before he could start. "Just don't."
She sighed and glanced up at her husband. "If we have everyone on shuttle two …." Reaching up, she opened a channel to Alenko. "Sparky, slight change of plans. You'll provide cover for shuttle one. I don't want to risk the entire team on attack runs. Stay in stealth mode and keep our people safe."
"Roger that, ma'am. See you on the surface. Alenko, out."
Shepard jumped up into the shuttle, her hand hovering over the hatch control until Garrus cleared the threshold.
Once she locked them in, she thumped down into a seat next to Garrus, the both of them facing Mordin. "All right, Doc. What's up?" she asked as the shuttle lifted off, the VI in control. Nothing about the salarian's demeanour comforted her. Whatever secret he hid from them, it was a doozy.
"Worked with STG, as you know," he said, suddenly going still, as if having made the decision to tell them his secret, all the nervous guilt evaporated. "Headed up many important projects. Trusted to develop most advanced and delicate scientific breakthroughs."
His stillness combined with the yammering did nothing to ease the feeling a piano hung over Shepard's head, the weighty thing dangling from a fraying rope. Only terrible secrets required so much preamble. "For Pete's sake, Doc, spit it out."
"Krogan evolved, began to adapt to genophage. Birth rates rose. Council tasked STG to modify genophage, ensure krogan population stayed at one viable birth in one thousand. Was on team that performed the modification, helped release it, then returned to conduct testing each cycle." He paused, but not even long enough for Shepard to process the depth of what he said before continuing. "After modified genophage released, moved to Omega and opened clinic. Needed to help people ... avoid moral grey areas."
Shepard stared at Mordin, her mouth hanging open as she struggled to believe his words. How could he be so cavalier about genocide? "Okay, wait … the krogan were actually pulling out of the downward spiral destroying their race, so you retooled the genophage to make sure their babies kept dying?" She glanced at Garrus, her husband's mandibles so high and tight to his mouth that she felt the need to throw herself on the grenade before it blew. "What in the fucking flatulent asses of the Enkindlers, Mordin? The krogan are being ripped apart by despair and hopelessness—females wander out into the wastes to die when their pups are stillborn—and you made it worse?"
For a split second, her hand twitched toward her sidearm before she clamped her fingers down on her thigh. The shuttle twisted ever so slightly to the left before she took a deep breath and pushed aside her dizziness and shock. Her day just kept nose diving straight toward hell. "Sweet baby Jesus, I think I'm going to puke."
The salarian straightened in his seat. "Genophage does not kill. Simply corrects krogan population growth to pre-uplift levels. Krogan problems societal not medical." He shook his head and lifted a hand as if dismissing the topic as unimportant, or at the very least, a distraction from his point. For the space of three deep breaths, her hand twitched toward her sidearm again.
"Since deploying modified genophage, kept track of team members. When the general called Dr. Chakwas about missing genophage research or personnel, contacted STG. One former team member reported missing: Maelon, research assistant."
Arching an eyebrow at the salarian doctor, Shepard shook her head. "That's too much of a coincidence. Your research assistant goes missing at the same time as the Urdnot females?" Looking back to Garrus, she shrugged. "He's got to be Wrex's prisoner."
The general nodded but didn't take his eyes off Mordin. Shepard could see the war going on inside her husband, the general fighting tooth and talon to keep a tight rein on the torin's outrage.
Shepard reached over and laced her fingers through Garrus's before she gritted her teeth and said, "Okay, the 'making the genophage even worse' discussion is tabled for now, but we'll need to talk it over in depth. I know I speak for the general when I say that I'm both confused by and suspicious of your current work to find a cure." Shaking her head, she held up a hand to still any protest. "Later. For now, let's focus on extracting Wrex and all survivors."
Garrus let out a soft, growling sort of chuff. "I welcomed you … Archangel welcomed you into our home, outfitted you with state of the art equipment and a hospital … " He swallowed hard enough that Shepard heard the gulp. "... trusted your ethics and your word." He took a deep breath, his mandibles quivering a little before clamping back against his mouth. "We will be discussing this in much greater depth before Archangel finances another scanner."
Shepard squeezed his talons as the sound of the thrusters changed for deceleration, her stare locked on Mordin. "You'll stay with me and keep your eyes open for anything on the scientific end. I want to know what they're doing when we get in there."
Mordin nodded, the gesture abrupt.
"And you'll say nothing about modifying the genophage in front of the krogan." Shepard swallowed the guilt that chased those words out of her mouth, but with Wrex's trust issues, the truth could send the entire mission sideways at light speed. She patted Garrus's thigh. "Come on, General, we have a hospital to attack."
69 Days ASR 0832 hours (Weyrloc Clan Holding, Tuchanka)
The sky hung hot, dry, and sand-brown over Shepard's head, the sun sweltering through the haze to press down on her back, heavy and intractable. Crouching behind a cement barricade, she thanked every deity she could think of for that small patch of shade. She glanced up, gasping a little as the glare cranked up the pounding in her head from a six to a nine. Damn, Tuchanka's heat and grit definitely lived up to the hype.
"Definitely a downside to blowing the hospital's roof into its basement," she grumbled. "Note to self: Collapsing the building completely doesn't leave any shade, dumbass." As much as she despised wearing a helmet, the handkerchief over her nose and mouth did little to block the grit. If any more mud built up on the back of her tongue, she'd have to cry 'uncle' and dive into air conditioned claustrophobia.
She glanced down at the small screen hovering above her forearm to check the path ahead. Another hundred metres and platoon strength Blood Pack remained between them and the last staircase down into the lab. The surviving Weyrloc had taken refuge there, in a large, two story series of rooms when a lucky shot had taken out more than half the building. The shuttle's cannon hit a massive gas line that threaded through most of the hospital. One and done.
Even so, they fought a tough old battle getting that far, the gang's numbers consisting mostly of varren and vorcha overseen by a handful of krogan warriors and pack masters. She knew that wouldn't be the case once they got into that last chamber. The toughest and most valuable Weyrloc warriors and their chief awaited them there.
Sighing, she clenched her jaw against the pain in her head and the fear twitching through her veins and skittering along her every nerve. As much as she'd tried to pass off Wrex's emotional and mental state …. She glanced at Garrus; her husband crouched behind cover at her side, his every movement jerky, his gaze refusing to settle. Damn it.
She leaned into the divider and dug into her belt pouch for a water bottle. The team's performance so far remained tight—coordinated, calm, and precise—but one look at them betrayed the truth: somewhere in the rubble, at least one of the black orbs lay buried but undamaged.
"They've looped around behind us," Garrus whispered, his voice a thin hiss completely lacking in subvocals. Shepard tried to meet his eyes, but couldn't catch his gaze. Restive, he remained completely focused behind them, his gaze flitting from shadow to shadow. "I know it. I can feel eyes on us."
She reached out, laying her hand on her husband's shoulder, frowning when he jumped. Despite the hand she'd felt crawling between her skull and her brain since the moment they'd landed, she asked, "You okay? You've been getting jumpier as we go along." Denial: the most powerful force in the entire galaxy.
And the most deadly. You know what's going on here. Don't be a dumbass. They all need to start taking their shots.
Garrus nodded, but his eyes looked wild even when his stare latched onto her. "Yeah, I'm fine." He chuffed and shook his head. "All right, that's a lie, that damn whining buzz is making me crazy. My head's at a fifteen on the Shepard scale."
"What buzzing, Callor?" She activated a private channel to the Ypres, then held a finger up to halt Garrus's reply. "EDI, run a diagnostic on General Vakarian's comms, please. Check for anomalous sounds."
To Garrus, Shepard said, "You have a headache?"
"Yeah, it's really pounding." He peeled off his visor and pressed the heel of his hand to his temple. "And it's starting to mess with my vision. Everything's unfocused and too bright." He muttered and covered his eyes. "It doesn't help that it's so hot out here."
Shepard nodded to the concrete k-rail behind him. "Sit down, put your back to the divider." Looking up, she waved Martin over. Someone needed to keep an eye on the krogan. "Are you feeling okay, kid?"
"Yeah, I'm hot, but all systems are five by five." He crouched next to her. "Why?" He winced and before she could answer, said, "You look like crap, General."
Shepard reached up and grabbed the collar of the kid's armour, action helping keep fear buried. Garrus would be fine as long as they kept moving. "Yeah, somethings going on. Check on the others, and then keep an eye out. We need to stop for a minute." She released him, but when he moved to get up, she snagged his arm. "You can see the dark energy those orbs give off, right?" When he nodded, she patted his back. "Excellent. You see anything at all, let me know."
"Shit. Those damned things?" He gulped then nodded. "I'm on it, boss."
After a half dozen swallows of tepid water, Shepard offered the bottle to Garrus. "Drink the rest." Diving it back into her belt pouch, she pulled out a cold pack and cracked it before shoving it down his collar to press against his throat just above his keel.
He uncovered his eyes and chuckled. "Where did you learn that trick? You been doing research?"
"I've been taking care of someone with a huge fever and the sweats for half a week." She lifted his hand back to his eyes. "Keep those covered. When we move out, put your helmet on, crank up the cool, and keep the visor as dark as you can." Taking the cloth away, she wrung it out and soaked it again.
"I'm starting to feel a little better," he said, resting his head back. "Just wish this damned noise would stop."
Shepard activated the team channel. "Anyone else hearing a high-pitched whine or buzz?" Her heart stopped dead in her chest when Thane and Samara replied to the affirmative. Garrus having issues was one thing, everyone else …. Well ... fuck-a-doodle-doo seemed to apply. "Mordin?"
"Not hearing buzz," Mordin replied. "Hearing whispers. Multiple layers … like conversations at a party. Can't understand what they're saying. Fascinating."
And the time for denial flies.
"Jack, Vincent, Sparky … you hearing voices?"
"They're in my head! Get the fuck out of my head. Don't touch me!" A blur of motion sent Shepard's heart splashing into an icy pool of rimy guts as Martin flew backwards, a shockwave tearing across the space.
Jack!
Garrus gave Shepard a push. "Go get her before she gets too far. I'll be fine."
Shepard leapt up and sprinted through the rubble. "Everyone take a shot of your indoctrination serum. If the voices or buzzing doesn't stop, take another."
Martin raced past her. "In my armour, I'm faster than any of you. I'll get her and give her the shots." He threw a wave over his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll catch her."
The channel to the Ypres pinged. Despite Martin chasing a frantic Jack across Tuchanka, Shepard's heart jumped, hope springing up to greet the chance of a reasonable explanation. "Yes, EDI."
"I was unable to find any abnormalities in hardware or signal in General Vakarian's comms, Captain. I believe the sound he's experiencing is an auditory hallucination."
Shepard's heart slowed—damned hope, why did the reapers keep crushing it—and her gut clenched tight, wrapping into a ball like snakes in winter. "Yeah, that's what I was afraid of, EDI, thanks."
"I have scanned for any anomalous energy signatures, but as in other cases, if there are suzerain orbs present, they are not emitting radiation of any kind I can detect."
Shepard watched Martin disappear around the corner at the end of the hall. "Roger that, I figured that too. Thanks for trying, EDI. Shepard, out." She switched to the team channel. "Tali, are the shuttles at the dustoff location? I want to be on them and out as quickly as possible."
"They are in position, Captain. It's very boring in here." The smart ass tone in the quarian's voice came through loud and clear.
"Considering we're all having our brains melted and taken over, I think most of us would trade you. Hold your position, Shepard, out."
She closed the channel and drew in a long breath to steady herself before taking over checking on Vincent and Kaidan. Vincent looked shaken but remained on his feet. She grabbed hold of the wall of muscle's shoulders and forced him to look her in the eye. "How are you doing?"
The big man shook his head, the trembling hidden beneath his shrug telling her everything she needed to know. "Like Mordin … and Jack, I guess, Loco. I'm hearing whispers, but so many that I can't understand what they're saying."
A startled chuckle greeted the nickname. "Loco?" When he just tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow at her, she sighed. He had a point. "Okay, fine, Loco it is. Take a shot of the indoctrination serum. Let me know if the voices don't get any better, but we've got to move. If there is an orb here … this is just going to get worse." She patted the injection port on his armour then punched him. "You really are just a freakin' mountain."
He laughed, hearty enough to ease back her concern. "Work out in the gym eighteen hours a day and you could be just like … no, sorry, Shepard, you'd still be an anthill."
She punched him again, then turned to Kaidan. Even before she asked, she could tell he'd taken his injection. Calm and back on his feet, weapon in hand, he just nodded and strode over to watch the stairs.
Samara too looked collected and ready to just get the hell off Tuchanka. The asari took a few steps after Martin. "I'm going to see if he needs help with Jack."
"Okay." Shepard followed her a couple of steps, keeping her eyes on the stairs down. A lot of bodies holding guns awaited them down there, and despite using comms to communicate, they were, quite frankly, making enough noise to wake the dead.
"Fascinating." Mordin's exclamation spun her around, his voice sounding even more manic than usual. "Most distressing sensation." His omnitool glowed above his wrist as he scanned himself. "Indoctrination fascinating in theory; infinitely more so experiencing it."
"Shhhhh! Mordin, stop scanning yourself, and take your damned shot. You're crazy enough as it is." Shepard strode over, diving into his belt pouch when he didn't obey the order. She punched the injection into his thigh and hit the plunger. "If the voices don't go away, take another."
Martin appeared at the end of the hallway, his arm around a very rattled looking Jack.
The biotic met Shepard's stare with one that growled badass bitch, and nodded. "I'm back, Shepard. Let's get the fuck out of this nightmare." She pulled her shotgun from the small of her back and moved to stand behind Kaidan, covering the stairs.
Shepard hurried over and crouched next to Garrus. "We've got to move before things get worse, Callor. You okay to get back into the shit?"
He held out his hand, standing when she grabbed it and pulled him up. "I'm okay. The shots have kicked the headache down to a dull roar."
"Okay. Let's get Wrex and dust off." She turned to her team. "If you start to go downhill, take a shot. If it doesn't work, tell me. Please, don't try to hide it, love. If you need something, ask." She caressed her husband's cheek then moved up to take point. Time to get the hell out of Dodge.
Garrus caught her shoulder, his grip steady. "It's not affecting you?"
Shepard nodded, glancing toward her husband. "I feel it." She frowned and pressed her palm over her right eye, her brain making a break for freedom as she let her headache through her mental walls. "It's like … a hand crawling up the inside of my skull, digging its fingers into my brain." After a moment of taking deeps breaths and relaxing her neck, the pain eased, and she gave him a weary smile. "I'm just used to it."
As she passed Martin, she said, "Of all of us, you're the only one with a history of not being affected by this signal. Keep an eye on us."
"No worries. I'll keep both eyes on all of you," he replied, none of the usual smart ass in his tone. He frowned and leaned backwards, stretching his spine. "Do you think this whole thing could be the ones behind the black orbs… the Leviathans or suzerains or whatever ... trying to manipulate the krogan?"
"It has to be." Garrus finished off the water and passed her the bottle, interrupting her reply. "This place feels like the Haestrom shipyard before everything went to complete tarc." He gave himself another shot of serum. His stare met Shepard's, as solid as ever, but the fear and concern that remained did nothing to comfort her. He cursed, looking as sick as Nihlus had the past few days. "Spirits, I don't want to go through that again. Our serum wasn't enough that day, Kahri. We need to get out."
"We've only got a few more Blood Pack to take out, then we can grab Wrex and evac." Shepard shrugged her Mattock into her hand. "I'll take point. Martin walk drag."
Garrus grabbed her forearm, pulling her around. "Aren't you going to take a shot?"
Shepard shook her head. "If it gets crazy inside my head, yeah, but they're already in my skull, so there really isn't much point. If I suppress them then I can't read them … see what they're interested in." She shrugged. "If that makes any sense." She gestured toward the rubble-strewn staircase and the door at the bottom. "Let's just kill the rest of these bastards and get the hell out of here."
He settled his sniper rifle into his hands and nodded. "Right behind you." He looked better, the steel back in his bones, his jaw tight, mandibles relaxed. His neck arched that little bit extra and when he strode for the stairs, his steps hit solid and sure. A small knot at the base of Shepard's spine untied, and she released her breath all the way for the first time since they'd paused to rest.
Jogging to the head of the line, she picked her way down the treacherous slope, her Mattock trained on the bottom of the stairs. Boasting zero cover and extremely uneven footing … that staircase formed the perfect place for an ambush. Why wasn't the Blood Pack attacking? It couldn't be thanks to stealth; they made more noise than a bulldozer. She checked the active scan. The Weyrloc hadn't moved. While she understood not wanting to give up good cover, the hand inside her head tightened its grip.
"EDI, are these readings life signs or lifeforms?" Terror punched her in the gut, sharp claws digging in, burrowing through her organs. "They aren't moving."
"Reading life signs, Shepard, They're definitely alive but fewer than before, and several are erratic," the AI replied, sounding as if she rechecked her facts even as she spoke.
She took cover on the inside corner at the bottom of the stairs. A door faced her on the outside wall, but the one they wanted was further down the hall on the left. Taking a long, slow breath to smack the fear down, she glanced around. Clear, as she suspected. Even the ceiling remained mostly intact, the shade a welcome change.
She gestured for the rest to go ahead. Something whispered, a tickle of spider legs … the slight slither of tar through the valleys in her grey matter … drawing her toward the door on the right. "Go ahead," she said, inching that way, "I'm just going to sweep this room. Martin, watch my back. The rest of you take cover to go through that door guns blazing."
Black and slick, the spiders began to trickle out of the hidden folds of her mind, their legs ticking down her spinal cord and in behind her eyes.
So there's something in there you bastards want to see? Holy fuck, that sucks on every level imaginable.
Martin pushed in behind her, his Revenant ready to pump out hundreds of rounds per second. "I've got your back, Shepard."
A sharp nod answered him, but her hand didn't move from her gun. Why did the suzerain want her to open that door? A warning? A trap? Curiosity?
"Shepard?"
Martin's whisper spurred her on, her hand sliding down her Mattock only to hesitate, hovering a good half metre away from the control. "Do you see anything, Martin? Any of the black energy?"
He stepped around her and then shook his head. "Nothing. Whatever's in there isn't attacking you or the team."
"Not actively, but passively, it's doing something." She glanced behind her to check on Garrus. He nodded and gave her the thumbs up. Shepard turned back to the door. She needed to quit stalling and kick some ass. "Okay, kid, get ready." She pulled her Mattock in tight, couching it to fire one-handed, then slapped her palm against the door control. The door turned, then reeled back, revealing ….
"What the hell?" Squinting, she leaned closer, trying to cut the glare from the open sky over the stairs. "Damn." Taking a step, then another, she moved into the dim space. A bright white light solidified amidst the gloom. The source, a glowing orb, sat cradled in a frame of very obvious Reaper tech. A tight ring of the black orbs surrounded it: a cage around a dangerous animal.
Around the ring of black orbs, krogan kneeled shoulder to shoulder, practically crammed in, their heads pressed to the walls. She stepped forward. Why hadn't they picked up those life signs? Two more steps and her eyes adjusted to the gloom. She backed up, pulling Martin along with her. "Back up, those Enkindler-cursed things are going to blow when we take them out."
She closed her eyes, but the carnage of that room didn't fade, burned into her retinas. Forty or so krogan, kneeling in their own blood after smashing their skulls in against the concrete walls. Sweet Jesus, they'd bashed their own heads in to kill the whispers or whatever madness the orbs planted in there.
She took a long breath, clenching her teeth around the words as she said, "Blow those fucking things straight to hell."
(A-N: Sorry everyone. I meant to have this done for Halloween, but Wrex then changed the whole game necessitating a massive rewrite. It was worth it, but ... DAMMIT WREX! I am concentrating on Future Imperfect for NaNoWriMo, so lets all bow our heads and pray that the writing gods favour this effort. I want to get us to the Reaper War before Christmas. :D As always, all the love. *hugs)