Chapter 10: The Price
"To set out on any holy purpose and to die along the way is to succeed."
- Hindu saying
Shepard stared at the console in front of him for a long time. The steadily blinking orange glow of the screen was hypnotic in its own way. Every flash said the same thing: communication waiting, just waiting for a single button press to connect them across untold light-years. That simple technology allowed for a galaxy spanning civilization to exist and, in that moment, Shepard hated it, not really for it's purpose but because it reminded him of his own weakness. The same light had been flashing for five minutes but he hadn't been able to hit the button to pick it up.
Finally EDI's voice snapped him out of his haze.
"Shepard?"
He caught the subtle modulations in her synthetic tone, emotions like concern and kindness that she claimed not to have. Positive feedback loops, she'd called them. It seemed even the most advanced AI in the galaxy was capable of small self-delusions when necessary. Maybe that was what it meant to truly be alive.
"I know. Activate it, EDI," he said quietly.
The hologram materialized in front of him in the usual brief shower of pixilation before snapping into focus. Primarch Victus was standing with his arms behind his back, clearly trying to conceal the nervous clenching of his hands, but everything about his stance radiated tension. When he met Victus' gaze the Spectre's face was an emotionless mask.
"Commander," the Primarch greeted him tersely.
"Primarch. We completed the mission. The active bomb was defused and is being moved to a secure location where it won't be a danger."
Some of the tension left the other man's shoulders at the words. "Then you may have saved this alliance from being crushed before it even drew its first breath."
He nodded once, his jaw tightening, but didn't look away. "I did what was necessary. We all did. Primarch, your son... didn't make it. By the time we reached the weapon there were only two dozen soldiers left and the Reapers had primed the weapon and begun the activation sequence to detonate the weapon. He gave his life in the final moments of the battle to prevent that from happening."
Shepard could see how the turian stilled, watching as the man processed the information, but he remained silent out of respect. With painstaking slowness Victus' arms came from behind his back and gripped the railing in front of him, the turian's head dropping. Faintly through the comm Shepard could hear a low keen that ended as soon as it began. When the man looked up again his face was as tight as his voice, mandibles tucked against the sides of his face unmoving.
"I am sure I am not the first father to have lost a son to this war, nor will I be the last. I had already received an update on the mission but there were no specifics. Eighty percent casualties. Half before they had even reached the ground, ambushed in tight quarters."
"He made the call to try and avoid a direct confrontation," he explained with calm he didn't feel. "When the transports were ambushed within the ruins they had no room to maneuver."
Victus' voice was bitter. "Trying to live up to my legacy."
His mouth was dry but he still spoke, dropping the title as he did so. He wanted to offer the man at least some small solace. "Your son made his own legacy, Victus... I knew him for ten minutes. In those few minutes I saw more in him than I've seen in soldiers I knew for years. He was frightened, but he fought on. He knew that his decision had cost lives, but he owned it. And in the end he completed his mission because he knew that it was more important than any one man's life."
"Thank you... Shepard," the turian responded quietly. "There's no time for mourning now, but thank you all the same. I have lost my son, but at least I know that he died with honor. It's all any turian father can ask for."
No, you could have asked that I bring you son home alive.
"My team owes him our lives. I promise you that he won't be forgotten."
Victus merely nodded, any waver in his voice now gone. His hands had left the railing, posture stiff once more. The mask was back on, the one that he knew so very well.
"No, he will not. If you'll excuse me, Commander... I have a war to wage."
The hologram winked out and Shepard let out a breath, sagging against the console. Tarquin Victus hadn't been under his command, not technically. But the young turian had given his life for the mission and for them all. Now all he could think of was the message that still rested in some archive, the one that began with 'It is with great regret...' and ended with Shepard telling two grieving parents that their son wouldn't be coming home again, but that First Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko had died with honor to save the lives of others.
"Honor... what good is honor to the dead?" he asked the empty room.
"I asked Jeff the same question," EDI responded, even though he was fairly certain she could tell the question hadn't be addressed to her. "I was confused after reviewing the records of the previous Normandy, the sacrifices made during your original mission. He told me that it didn't matter to them, but to the people that remembered them. It was one of the few questions that he did not deflect with humor."
"He's right, in a way. We build memorials and give speeches for the living. But by the time this war is over I wonder if anyone is going to want to remember."
"My existence is not limited by a typical organic lifespan. I will remember."
"At least someone will."
EDI's hologram appeared on the console. "There is another communication waiting, Shepard. I attempted to trace it back to its source and inform the caller that the timing was inappropriate but I have been unsuccessful. The security encryption suggestions salarian design, however."
"Salarian?" he muttered, stabbing the key on the console. "Fine, put it through."
A new hologram appeared and Shepard immediately recognized the hooded form of the Salarian Dalatrass who had argued so vehemently against their current course of action. Her smooth face was twisted in the same unpleasant scowl that she had worn when she left the Normandy. There were few people in the galaxy to whom he had less of a desire to speak.
"Dalatrass Linron. Not a social call, I trust?"
The salarian's almond shaped eyes narrowed. "It is not. You have reached Tuchanka and Mordin Solus has developed his cure."
It clearly wasn't a question. Whether she simply felt like stating the facts or if the Dalatrass was attempting to impress him with the breadth of her information he didn't know, but he took the verbal bait.
"And how do you know that, exactly?"
"Former operative Solus was given access to STG research archives while he was formulating his cure. Such actions are always logged. It was not hard to figure out from there..." Linron said dismissively. "A more important question is what you intend to do with it."
"Exactly what it says on the label, dalatrass," he responded curtly. "It's a cure. I intend to cure the krogan with it."
"You're letting the pressures of war and emotions cloud your judgement, Commander. I tried to make you see reason at the summit. We did not uplift the krogan for their diplomacy or arts, we uplifted them to wage war. If you cure the genophage they will breed out of control again and there will be another war!"
The salarian's image flickered as she began to pace, the holographic transmitter clearly having difficulty keeping up with her until she stopped once more and continued. It was always the same condescending tone that said that suggested that she knew more than he did, with the implication always being that only fools wouldn't heed her advice.
"I can already see you want to tout Mordin's genius to me... but the changes his cure will bring to the krogan reproductive cycle will only make them breed ten times as fast as every species in Council space instead of a hundred! It doesn't change krogan brutality. Krogan cruelty. It merely slows their advance by years, maybe decades at most. You cannot be so short sighted that you cannot see this!"
"I can see that I won't condemn a race to extinction because of what they might do."
"Then consider the other consequences of your actions," Linron said icily.
Shepard leaned against the console, fixing the salarian with a glare of his own. "I'm not in the mood to be threatened, Dalatrass."
"I do not offer threats, Spectre. I offer a deal, a compromise. It is the foundation of civilization, a foundation your krogan have never understood. If he has not already then I am certain that Mordin will suggest using the Shroud main hub to disseminate the cure across Tuchanka. We gave it to the krogan as a gift to help shield their ravaged atmosphere from their own self destruction... but it was long ago modified to prevent exactly what Mordin will propose. Being the intelligent man that he is, Mordin will certainly detect this and fix the problem."
"Get to the point."
The salarian held up her palms in exasperation. "I am, Commander! I only ask that you do one simple thing. Do not allow Mordin to repair the damage to the Shroud. The cure will still be disseminated to the planet but the temperature variances sent out will render it ineffective with the krogan none the wiser. Keep your promise to Urdnot Wrex and use the krogan to fight your war. In exchange you gain a powerful ally. Full access to the Salarian Union's fleets. While we might not be a match for the Turian Hierarchy in raw numbers we have been preparing for many years. Would your war not benefit from a dozen fresh dreadnoughts, all with our cutting edge technology? Along with our top scientists... and our information network. The Reapers may not fight a traditional war but their agents can still be predicted and countered."
"You're telling me that if I do this... you're giving me the unequivocal support of the entire Salarian Union?"
"I am," Linron stated clearly, a small smirk on her lips. "We must not defeat the Reapers only to let the krogan destroy us all. So I offer you this deal. Our fleets, our knowledge, our resources. The Salarian Union will join your cause without reservation."
"Mordin will never stand for it. He has dedicated his life now to ending the genophage," he said tiredly.
"Deal with Mordin as you must. But I know you will make the correct decision, Commander. I have offered you much for little and this war is only beginning. A true leader knows when sacrifices must be made."
"Damn you."
But the hologram had already winked out. Dalatrass Linron had made her offer, clearly, as far as she was concerned, further discussion was pointless. It was indeed a simple offer. The krogan would fight for the cause none the wiser if the genophage cure were sabotaged discreetly while the beleaguered forces currently fighting the Reapers would have the might of an almost untouched empire suddenly aiding them. Fresh supplies, ships to shore up damaged fleets. The salarians had nearly twice as many dreadnoughts as the Systems Alliance and every one was outfitted with cutting-edge technology. All for a single moment of betrayal.
Shepard looked at the now empty hologram pad, muttering Tarquin Victus' last words. "Victory at any cost."
"Shepard!"
"Wrex?"
The shuttle bounced and rocked through the turbulence of Tuchanka's upper atmosphere as Cortez did his best the keep the ship steady from the pilot's seat. Behind them the Normandy's second shuttle was faring little better but managed to follow. After extracting the marines from the bomb site they had been brought back to the Normandy for treatment while waiting for the nearest turian cruiser to arrive. Much to his surprise, when he had arrived in the shuttle bay every unwounded member of the devastated turian company had been geared up and ready to go.
Their reason had been simple. Scores of their brothers and their commanding officer had died on the scorched brown earth of Tuchanka trying to give life to the fragile alliance between the krogan and turians. As far as they were concerned their mission wasn't over. Without countermanding orders from Hierarchy command he didn't have much of an argument to make otherwise, which was why a dozen turian marines were landing with them for the final push on the Shroud facility.
Just as the Dalatrass had predicted, Mordin had commed him and explained his plan to utilize the Shroud to distribute the cure. Using the main hub of the Shroud network he could blanket the entire planet with the cure in a single burst, each smaller tower synthesizing the cure for its own pulse. The only caveat was that components that made up the cure were inherently unstable, not something that he could just stick in a vial and tuck into his pocket. No, he had to use Eve's own blood and tissue to synthesize the final version of the cure on the spot and upload it to the Shroud system before it deteriorated. Which meant that they had to secure that facility.
"The damn Reapers are already at the Hollow! Come out shooting!" the krogan's gravelly voice ordered, momentarily drowned out by the sound of shotgun firing. "The salarian and your pet AI are in what passes for a lab here. Eve's with me in the main chamber."
"Copy that, Wrex. Help is on the way."
There was a rumbling laugh over the comm. "Who said I needed help? I just don't want you to get too far behind in kills."
"Still the same old Wrex," Garrus commented dryly.
The Spectre checked his rifle and gave the thermal magazine a slap to seat it before looking at the assembled team.
"No doubt about it. You all heard Wrex; we're going in hot in five. Liara: you, Javik, and Vega are going to immediately make a push to secure Mordin and EDI. If I know the good doctor he's not going to let anyone get near his research. Garrus and Kasumi, you're with me. Mordin's research is useless without Eve."
"Looks like you're in charge, Doc," Vega said, smirking at the asari.
"Wonderful."
The marine turned his attention to Shepard while loading his own weapon, a hefty shotgun that was more than capable of putting down most of the husks they had encountered with a single shot. Vega gestured with his chin in Shepard's direction.
"Gonna have to take that fancy armor of yours into the shop when we hit the Citadel again, Loco. The girls might think you don't appreciate it otherwise."
Shepard looked down at his armor, the formerly pristine black surface looking far more worn after just a few weeks of use. Long scrapes along his side where the husk had tried to disembowel him the day before made four stark gray lines against the black while nearly a dozen smaller marks showed the bare metal beneath the finish up and down his body. Even the gauntlets showed some wear; the knuckles were almost polished metal from when he had struck the armored skin of various husks. It gave every appearance of having been through a long campaign.
"Don't worry, we'll get it taken care of. I wouldn't worry yourself over it, pretty boy," Kasumi interjected before Shepard could comment, matching the marine's smirk with one of her own. "We don't need Shepard to be fancy to know he appreciates us. He's not superficial like some people we know."
To his credit Vega responded easily, flexing one of his arms and looking at the thief. "All that talk... but you know you like the show whenever you come down to the cargo bay. It's okay, I'm used to it. It's hard being so perfect."
"Jimmy Vega, soldier turned professional model," Garrus chortled.
"Every man's gotta have options, Scars. Some of us are proud we don't look like we tried to get cozy with a wheat thresher."
"What the hell is a wheat thresher? Some kind of bizarre thresher maw?"
"Nah, farming equipment. Round spinning thing that's covered in sharp edges," Vega explained.
The turian shook his head, idly dragging a talon along the network of scars across the right side of his mandible.
"Interesting. Might still have been better than trying to stop a missile with my face. But we all know you're secretly jealous. The ladies love scars."
The pertinent question of 'what ladies?' was headed off by the shuttle shuddering once more and making a sudden dive, causing the occupants to scramble for a handhold. Cortez' strained apologies filtered into the passenger area only to waved off. Ruins passed by outside the fast moving shuttle and moments later the vessel stopped, hovering a few feet off the ground.
"We've touched down, Reaper ground forces are taking shots at anything they can get a bead on. Our turian friends are right behind us," Cortez said over the comm.
Shepard tapped the side of his helmet and nodded. "Understood. Let's move people."
Immediately after the shuttle doors opened a shotgun roared to life, knocking the husk that had been pawing at the side of the ship away into a broken heap. Two more came bounding up the nearby steps only to be dropped in almost the same instant as he and Garrus both brought up their rifles and fired. The Spectre jumped out of the shuttle and quickly scanned the area, pointing at Liara and indicating the passageway to their left and then turning back to the long stairway that clearly led to the center of the Hollow.
"Kasumi, you're on anything that gets past Garrus or me. Eve is the priority. I'd say try to keep Wrex alive too but I think he'd be angry that I even suggested something as simple as Reapers could kill him," Shepard ordered, a grim smirk hidden behind his helmet.
Side by side they advanced down the long staircase, rifles at the ready while Kasumi trailed just behind.
"Time to start up the old counter again, huh?" Garrus asked.
The only response he gave was to squeeze the trigger of his rifle. A husk tumbled backwards with a neat hole its forehead and then it was simple muscle memory after that. Each lighter crack of Shepard's Viper was answered by a more resounding boom from Garrus' larger rifle, the first wave of Cannibals never even getting a chance to open fire. They reached the bottom of the stairs to find chaos as husks scrambled up and down the walls of what looked almost like a huge arena. Many of the creatures were locked in brutal combat with krogan warriors. At the center of it all was a raised platform with Wrex and Eve at the center, both armed with shotguns and firing into the charging husks. He and Garrus exchanged a wordless glance and began to fire once more.
When one of the charging husks dropped directly in front of him Wrex looked up and met Shepard's eyes, his lips curling into a fierce smile. The krogan warlord was wreathed in biotic energy for a brief moment before it surged outward to knock away the next pack of Reaper abominations while Eve reloaded her weapon in a single practiced motion. Another deafening boom from Garrus' rifle and a shot struck a Marauder's head clean from its shoulders. The few husks that made it into range to charge at the pair of snipers were stopped cold when Kasumi's slim form shimmered into existence and riddled them with fire from her Locust.
Any chance the attack had of success ended abruptly when reinforcements arrived from the other side of the circular hall in the form of a dozen turian marines backed by Liara's team. Precision fire rained down on the Reaper forces and combined with the biotic fury of both Liara and Javik, short work was made of the various husks. Moving down a circular staircase that led to the dusty floor of the hall Shepard rejoined the rest of his team, noting that EDI was gripping a pistol tightly in the hands of her new synthetic body.
"So what's the verdict, EDI? Acceptable performance?" he asked.
"Yes, Shepard. This body is more than capable of direct electronic warfare and limited fire support."
Noting an odd tone in the AI's voice he pressed forward. "But?"
"It is not important. I am merely adapting to the experience of direct contact with an enemy in the way an organic or geth platform would. The Normandy itself is a much different experience. I find this method to be significantly more... messy."
"It doesn't get any cleaner from here," Garrus said.
She looked towards the turian, expressionless. "This has become abundantly clear."
They moved towards the center of the room but Shepard waved the others off, wanting his team to stay near the turian squad. The krogan were already riled, the last thing they needed was an altercation between the marines and the krogan soldiers, something that hopefully wouldn't occur with his team acting as a buffer. Only Mordin accompanied him to meet Wrex at the base of the dais while Eve had retired into the shelter provided by the large upright statue at the center of the raised area. Wrex, of course, was grinning wildly.
"They'll sing battle-songs about this someday... Reaper blood has finally soaked our soil. Just like the old days, Shepard, you and the turian shoot things in the head and I tear'em apart."
He accepted the wrist clasp, returning the krogan leader's smile with a vicious one of his own.
"In the old days it was just geth and mercs getting in our way."
"Guess they couldn't keep up, that's why the Reapers finally had to try it for themselves. And just so you don't forget the old days... I found something for you," Wrex said. "It was in the locker of crap your Alliance shipped to me off the Normandy when I left, must have gotten stuck in there. At least it didn't blow up."
The krogan reached behind him and produced a pistol, tossing it into Shepard's hands. His fingers slipped around it instantly, settling into the grip like a lover's caress. It was a bulky handgun, all slate gray and menacing in the way most of the models made in the past few years weren't. An original model Carnifex with half a dozen notches in the grip. One for each krogan he'd killed during the hunt for Saren.
"Son of a bitch..."
Wrex laughed. "Ha! I know. Forgot all about it when you brought the pup here for his Rite. Kept telling you that advertising was complete shit. Just had to prove me wrong."
"It worked, didn't it?" he asked, turning the weapon over in his hand, thumb rubbing down each notch before checked the weapon over. It was his original gun without a doubt, but Wrex hadn't just left it to collect dust in a locker somewhere. A high efficiency thermal magazine was loaded into the gun and it had been brought up to the very bleeding edge of current specifications. "What did you do to it, though?"
"Contacted Anderson when you were sitting on your ass on Earth. Told him I wanted to send it to you but apparently they don't let prisoners have big, shiny guns. I managed to get him to send the parts to upgrade it, though I think he just wanted the specs on what I was doing to it. Got a message just before the Reapers hit Earth that some of your people had already made a new model based on it. Called it the Paladin, whatever the hell that is."
"Appropriate term. Human translation: holy warrior, knight," Mordin interjected. "Fitting for battle against Reapers."
At this the krogan's expression turned sour.
"Battle is the word, salarian. The Reapers aren't messing around. My scouts have reported that there's a damned Reaper parked at the base of the Shroud."
Mordin nodded in agreement, his omni-tool open to display a small graphic of the Shroud's tower and a crab-like walker stalking the dunes in front of it.
"New type of Reaper, destroyer class. Still dangerous but roughly equivalent to modern cruiser. Likely used in smaller scale ground pacification when larger Reapers inefficient. Appears to be trying to use Shroud to damage atmosphere."
"This day just keeps getting better," Shepard sighed.
"Indeed. Reaper must be neutralized to successfully deploy cure, recommend multi-vectored attack. Orbital bombardment too risky but turian cruiser can provide fighter support," Mordin suggested, then glanced up at the dais where Eve sat in shadow, cleaning her weapon it seemed. "Female also doing well, monitor showed excellent vital signs and only slight increase in blood pressure during combat. Significant increase in endorphins."
While they spoke krogan had begun to gather, many covered in blood and all visibly armed. They were filling the many levels that ringed what Shepard was starting to think of as the amphitheatre of the Hollows. Even speaking quietly their voices echoed in the chamber. Clearly the place had been designed to be used to address hundreds, if not thousands, of people. Across the way he saw more krogan entering the rooms lowest levels, most of them appearing organized into clan groupings or even mercenary units. The red of the Blood Pack was hard to ignore. He could only assume that these were the more important members of krogan society. It seemed that the entire krogan race in some form was to be represented here today. A historical day.
The expression on his face became a grimace. It was on his shoulders as to just what history would tell about the battle for Tuchanka. It would be the day that the krogan people were finally freed of the terrible plague that had been slowly killing them for a thousand years, or the day that one man betrayed a race to save the galaxy, a final epitaph left for the krogan species on their devastated world.
"Of course she's fine. She's a fighter. Cunning, strong, brutal..." the old battlemaster trailed off for a moment, following Mordin's gaze to Eve. His red eyes glittered and his nostrils flared. "She could be the krogan's first great warrior queen in a thousand years. Shiagur would pale in comparison."
He recognized what he saw in Wrex's eyes. Shepard's fists tightened at his sides, eyes closing for a moment as he made his decision. The sound of a commotion snapped his eyes open once more and Shepard turned to face a contingent of krogan that were advancing steadily on their position. For a brief moment he was confused by the almost identical set of the leader's face to the krogan that was standing next to him. Wrex recognized his confusion and grunted.
"Urdnot Wreav... my brother. We shared the same mother and nothing else."
"What is this, Wrex? You bring salarians onto our holy grounds? And now turians?" Wreav spat and the krogans behind him nodded, many of them wearing the armor of the Blood Pack. "Next you'll dig the rachni out of their graves and bring them here too! Our... illustrious leader would destroy every tradition we have left!"
Wrex snarled. "They're called allies, 'brother'. Allies that just helped our people."
"Maybe you've forgotten what it means to be a true krogan! We flay our enemies alive and drown them in their own blood," the other krogan snapped back, voicing dripping with disdain and fixing his gaze on Mordin. "We don't invite them into our home."
Each word echoed perfectly, carrying the sound to every ear that listened. Around the great room rumblings arose, inarticulate growls of support and opposition quickly gaining volume until it sounded like an avalanche of stone bearing down on their heads. Shepard looked up and spoke loud enough to be heard over the angry krogan.
"This salarian came here to help your people and cure the genophage! But only if you can look past your stubborn prejudice first!"
"The salarians infected us with the genophage in the first place!" Wreav yelled, raising his arms. "Why would we trust one of them?"
The crack of bone on bone carried over of the rumbles and Wreav staggered back from Wrex's headbutt.
"Because I do! And so will you, Wreav. Did you forget that I am the leader of Clan Urdnot?"
"Maybe it's time for that to change!"
Hands went for guns and teeth were bared, Wreav himself already had his gnarled fingers wrapped around a shotgun pointed in Wrex's direction. He could see everything going bad very quickly when a new voice rang out and silenced them all. Much to the surprise of virtually every krogan assembled Eve stepped out of the shadows of the pillar, fixing Wreav with a glare that would have melted the flesh right off any mere human.
"Enough!"
As one the krogan seemed to turn to face her, the authority in her voice and the fact that a female was addressing them seemed to have captured their attention completely. Standing at the top of the platform, Eve was a striking figure veiled in her deep blue robes in her garb that Shepard could only assume was the traditional dress of krogan females. Eve continued to speak as she looked around the room at the assembled warriors.
"We can stay here and let old wounds fester as krogan have always done. Squabble amongst ourselves until there is no krogan people left to save... and those that remain can die at the hands of the Reapers!"
Her stare focused back on Wreav, tone acidic.
"We stand now at the moment of truth! For thousands of years we fought this brutal world. When the rachni threatened to overwhelm the galaxy and the salarians took us to the stars we fought for the promise of a future. And when the genophage took from us our children we still fought to survive! Now we have a choice. We can continue until our old ways kill us all... or we can fight the enemy that the krogan were born to destroy and win a new future for our children!"
Eve slammed her fist into the stone pillar hard enough that sand and dust shook from it.
"I for one choose to fight! You all speak of tradition. In the ancient days a warlord would ask for the allegiance of his followers. Warriors that would form their krantt and kill for their cause! I ask you now, who will stand with me and fight for our future?"
A new rumble swept through the chamber like a wave but Shepard couldn't make out any single voice. Wrex stepped forward first without hesitation, climbing the steps to stand beside Eve. He slammed a fist into his chest and glowered at the assembled krogan.
"I stand as Urdnot Wrex, Leader of Clan Urdnot. And I will fight!"
In the near silence that followed Shepard stepped forward. Looking up at the krogan female and removing his helmet he mimicked Wrex's speech.
"I stand as John Shepard, Commander of the Normandy. And I will fight."
To his surprise Mordin stepped forward as well. The salarian's voice was clear and his speech amazingly unrushed, sounding almost surreal after hearing his clipped and rapid fire dialogue for so long. Leaving Shepard at the base of the dais he moved up to stand beside Eve.
"I stand as Mordin Solus. Former member of the salarian Special Tasks Group. I will fight."
Wreav snarled once more. "A delusional old warrior, a human, and a salarian? A pathetic krantt! This is what you dream of for our people, female? Are there no others that would follow your delusions?"
"I will," Liara said loudly, stepping forward, her form wreathed in dark energy. "I stand as Liara T'Soni. And I will fight for your future even if you will not."
The ominous sound of a heavy rifle being racked cut off any response from Wreav.
"And so will I."
Garrus gave Shepard an amused twitch of his mandibles before stalking up the steps to stand just beneath Eve with one leg propped on the step above, turning back to sweep his cold blue gaze across the krogan below. He hefted the massive rifle and rested it on his shoulder, speaking directly down at Wreav and the Blood Pack mercenaries behind him.
"I stand as Garrus Vakarian. The Archangel of Omega. And I will fight. Ask your mercenary friends what happens when I do."
Wreav's nostrils were flaring now in anger as his head cast side to side, hearing the rumbles of dissent from the ranks of the krogan around him. Sneering up at the assembled group, though, he apparently wasn't willing to accept defeat yet even with the implied threat standing before him.
"Your collection of aliens is impressive, female. What will you do when I challenge you? Send your alien krantt to kill me instead of true krogan? If only you had krogan that would follow you beyond our besotted leader!"
"She does!"
So focused on Eve the angry krogan didn't even see the massive form pushing through the crowd until it was too late. The sound of the head butt echoed through the sudden silence in the room and Wreav staggered backwards just as he had when Wrex had struck him. Pale blue eyes, so rare for krogan, looked at Wreav without the slightest hint of fear.
"I stand as Urdnot Grunt! Child of Okeer and born of the bloodline of a dozen warlords! And I will kill any who stand before the will of Clan Urdnot and my battlemaster!"
The towering krogan moved to take his place not at the side of Wrex and Eve but standing just behind Shepard at the base of the dais, looming over his shoulder like a massive gargoyle. From the uproar all around them the statement was clear. Armored fists were pounding stone walls and chests. Krogan were chanting. Fight, they said. Fight.
Wreav's furious expression was just as clear. Shepard's mouth was set in a grim line as he flicked the safety off the heavy pistol Wrex had given him only moments befire, pointing it at the krogan's head but saying nothing. Behind him Wrex spoke instead and he could hear the steel in the old battlemaster's voice.
"Urdnot Wreav! Your people have spoken! Fight with us as a true krogan or die at the hand of the one that I would call my brother before my own blood!"
Wreav roared in anger and yanked the shotgun in his hands upwards, his answer clear.
Like an old friend the Carnifex responded to the slightest tap of the trigger, its thunderous report filling the chamber as the round caught the krogan directly in the throat and sending him to his knees. Wreav's shotgun fell from his hands as blood poured from his mouth and neck, hands trying to clasp the wound closed even as he made thick gurgling sounds. It was a credit to krogan regeneration that by the time Shepard had taken the few steps to stand over him he could actually make himself understood.
"Human... pathetic," Wreav gurgled, staring up the barrel of the gun. "Never willing... to just... make the kill! Weak..."
Only Wreav could hear him over the sound of the krogan around him yelling.
"That's where you're wrong, Wreav. You're just one more stone on the road to hell."
His pistol rang out five more times and Urdnot Wreav slumped forward dead.
Wrex roared behind him. It was something old and primal and the krogan, thousands of them, responded in kind. A thousand voices so loud even the Reapers must hear them.
If they ever made a vid of his life Garrus sincerely hoped someone had been recording what had just occurred. There were a few things he was especially proud of in his life, some that he would admit, others that would likely go with him to the grave. Taking down Saren. Killing that slaver Kron Harga on Omega. Not swallowing his own gizzard when Shepard showed up alive again. Leading the team on the Collector base. But calling out an entire army of krogan was definitely moving to the top of the list. Finally that moniker the people of Omega had saddled him with had come in handy.
"You look entirely too satisfied with yourself," Kasumi said, interrupting his musings.
His mandibles flexed. "Not every day I get to act it up like some over muscled vid-star, Kasumi. Let me bask in it for a minute. Where were you anyways? Didn't feel like joining the universe's most bizarre krogan krantt?"
"You know better than that. The spotlight isn't for me. Best, not most famous, remember?"
"But it would have been fun! You could have sat on the steps and wrapped your arm around my leg, looking up at me, just like the covers of those ancient fantasy vids Joker always insists are classics!" Garrus continued, pausing to rub his chin. "Though remembering those you would have needed to have been wearing a lot less clothing..."
"Garrus."
"Hm?"
"You do know I'm capable of hacking your armor's environmental controls?"
"So... that's a no on the gauze and metal bikini?"
"Better question, why are you trying to get me in a bikini?"
Garrus paused, meeting the thief's eyes that shone just beneath her hood and seeing the smirk that played at her lips. For a moment his mandibles flexed back and forth, realizing that he'd walked right into that particular verbal trap with his eyes wide open. Finally he snapped his mouth shut and chuckled.
"Dammit, that just went somewhere horrible and came right back around at me."
With a clearly satisfied look Kasumi leaned back in her seat. "And that will teach you to spar with the master."
"So you're the master now? I didn't get the memo," Garrus said dryly.
It earned him a rude gesture that made him laugh. Settling back in his own seat, trying to ignore the bouncing of the tomkah as the krogan drive seemed to try and hit every piece of rubble between them and the Shroud, he crossed his arms.
"You know, I did some reading up on Earth culture in my downtime. Seems to me that where you come from your people are supposed to be very polite and respectful."
"And last I checked turians are supposed to be hard working and good at toeing the line," Kasumi countered. "When was the last time you did either?"
"Ouch, you have been hanging around Shepard too long. You're getting vicious," he replied, but was grinning. "And I've always said that I'm a bad turian."
"Then I guess I'm just bad at being Japanese, makes us even."
"I suppose it does."
They lapsed into amused silence, turning to look at the other occupants of the transport. Eve and Wrex were speaking with animated hand gestures, while Mordin was engrossed in data from his omni-tool. Knowing the salarian doctor, Garrus was sure that he was quadruple checking his own work. As usual both of their gazes were drawn to Shepard, sitting with the gun Wrex had given him held in one hand and his knife in another. It took him a moment to realize that the man was carving another notch into the weapon's grip.
"I'm not sure if that's normal or creepy," Kasumi whispered.
"Technically, normal. Shepard got that gun when we first started hunting down Saren," he explained. "The Council are cheap bastards so we had to buy our own equipment. Went into a store and he asked for something with stopping power and when the clerk asked him exactly how much stopping power he really needed... well, Shepard pointed at Wrex and said 'In case I want to shoot that guy'."
"Wrex didn't complain?"
"Not at all. He was more offended at the thought of a mere pistol hurting a krogan. After that Shepard made a point of using the damn thing every time we ran into krogan mercs. Which, thanks to Saren's little deal, was far more often than I would have liked."
The thief shook her head. "One day I'm going to trap you somewhere and get the whole story about Saren. I feel like I missed out on a lot. Like I started reading a story at the second chapter."
"It was definitely crazy. Geth, mercenaries... Sovereign. It wasn't an experience I'd trade for anything. But it wasn't easy either. We lost a good man," he said, his harmonics pitching lower as he connected the dots in his head. He continued suddenly. "Maybe it's better that you weren't there."
"Better?" He thought for a moment she actually sounded hurt.
"Not what I meant. It's just..." the turian gestured with his talons, trying to properly formulate his thoughts. As soon as he'd thought of what the team would have been like with Kasumi from the beginning his mind has brought up Virmire. Kaiden had been chosen to deal with the explosive due to being their best tech next to Tali, who had been on Shepard's squad. If Kasumi had been there... she might have been the one with that particular duty. He was saved from continuing his poorly phrased explanation by their comms crackling to life.
"This is turian wing Artimec, our approach vector is locked in and we are ten minutes out."
Every head in the shuttle raised, the simple pronouncement reminding them all of what they were about to walk into. Wrex for his part was still sounding amused, chuckling and shaking his head.
"Turians and krogan fighting together! Never thought I'd see the day."
Eve seemed far more pensive as she looked at the krogan male.
"It is a great achievement... but Wreav will not be the only krogan to object to the break with tradition. His bloody execution will cow them for now but you will have to placate them in the future."
"They'll quiet down when we finally start to expand. The Council wants us to fight another war from them... I think we'll have earned some compensation."
Shepard had slipped his knife back into its sheath and nodded at the battlemaster. "A new homeworld for the krogan colonize doesn't seem like much to ask."
"Maybe more than one," Wrex said with a toothy grin. "You haven't seen how fast we can pop them out."
"Wrex!" the female admonished.
This of course only inspired further grunting laughter from Wrex. It was certainly an odd sight. Garrus had never expected to even see a krogan female, much less one that sounded vaguely embarrassed by the crude commentary. During the entire exchange Mordin had been watching thoughtfully, finally interjecting during the lull in conversation.
"Already provided you with data showing that krogan... virility would not completely return to pre-genophage levels. Still considerable, though," the doctor added. "Would advise caution. Society requires time to change. Long held values difficult to uproot, without strong leadership krogan could become threat again. Resulting conflict... problematic."
Wrex shook his massive head. "Don't worry, salarian. We're done with the old ways, no more pissing in the wind waiting to die. The smart ones will come to my side. Any that decide they want to reenact the Rebellions? I'll deal with them myself."
"Presence of strong female also provides calming influence."
"I suppose she helps. I'm the one who will keep them in line, though."
"Males. You would still be butting heads in the Hollows if I had left it up to you," Eve stated dryly.
Garrus' mandibles twitched in amusement as he caught Mordin's quiet comment, far too low for anyone other than he and Kasumi to hear.
"Both headstrong. Very good match. Will be interesting to see offspring."
The line of tomkahs rolled through Tuchanka's devastated terrain, following what had must have been a major highway in ancient times. He'd been amazed to see them all when Wrex had led them to his own transport. The sheer amount of the rugged vehicles would have done a turian armored company proud... and considering they were going to fight an actual spirits-be-damned Reaper it was likely they would need every one. He looked down at the rifle in his arms and gave what a few would have recognized as a grim smile.
He'd appropriated Shepard's old rifle; that was the truth. And in those six months he had made it his personal project to turn it into the most precision instrument of death that had ever graced hands turian or human. For all Garrus had done trying in vain to prepare the Hierarchy part of him knew it wouldn't be enough, especially when heard that they had locked Shepard away. He had heard the rumors. Court martial, whispers that he'd be turned over to the batarians for 'justice' to prevent war. So he had spent hours at a workbench modifying and calibrating. Because, if the worst came to pass and Shepard weren't there, then at least some part of him would be.
Shepard had reappeared, but Garrus still held onto the rifle. Because whenever he'd tried to talk to his friend in the past few weeks the same fear that Shepard wouldn't be there didn't go away like it should have. When he'd taken the shot at the Brute on Menae and the Spectre had looked up at him the turian had realized what he must have looked like when Shepard found him on Omega. It wasn't a pleasant epiphany.
Suddenly the tomkah shook violent and skidded to a stop, panicked yells filling the comms. Everyone was on their feet, weapons in hand, while Wrex began to bark orders demanding answers. Finally the krogan growled and punched the side of the transport.
"Aw fuck."
"We have a problem, Wrex?" Shepard asked.
"Yea, the big Reaper stomping around woke up Tuchanka's meanest guard varren," the krogan replied. "Kalros just took out our two lead tomkahs."
From the way Shepard's attention immediately fixed on Wrex and his clipped tone it was clear that he recognized the name, whatever it was. His words came out almost as a snarl.
"Kalros is a damn myth."
"She isn't," Eve said, shaking her head. "She is very real and has called these deserts her home for thousands of years."
Kasumi looked between Shepard and the two krogans suspiciously before crossing her arms and sighing.
"Alright, I'll bite. Who is Kalros?"
"Not who, what. Kalros is the mother of all thresher maws," Eve corrected. "She is ancient, a force of nature that came to Tuchanka long ago and claimed it for her own. Before we burned our atmosphere and destroyed our world she was here, and after she still remained."
"I don't like the sound of 'mother of all thesher maws'. I'd rather avoid getting up close and personal," Garrus said.
Wrex grunted. "She just swallowed two tomkahs and didn't even slow down... good call, Vakarian."
Standing ramrod straight Shepard let out a few choice curses that he'd have to ask him about later.
"We can't reach the Shroud with her in the way?"
"Thresher maw continue to grow for entire lifetime. Thousand year lifetime exaggeration? No. Unlikely. Krogan boastfulness only regarding trophies. Kalros still alive. Capable of casual destruction of heavy armored vehicle... possible lifetime indicative of size in excess of one kilometer," Mordin speculated. "If provoked could wipe out even substantial ground force without realistic chance of fatal injury. Thresher maws extremely territorial. Will attempt to destroy anything perceived as encroaching. "
The Spectre's head turned, looking at Mordin as a grim smile came across his lips.
"A kilometer, huh?"
"What are you thinking, Shepard?" the turian asked, not liking that look. "Those fighters are going to be on target soon, without support they don't stand a chance."
"We'll give them support. I've got a plan."
Garrus' mandibles curled upwards slightly in a smile.
"Boss, why is it that you always say 'I've got a plan' the same way a terrorist says 'I've got a bomb?'"
"This is a terrible, terrible plan!" Garrus yelled.
"No, it's a glorious plan!"
"Nobody asked you, Wrex!"
The krogan's shotgun roared once more, the blast simply making the charging husk cease to exist from the waist up. There seemed to be no end to the things. Above them towered the Reaper, smaller than its brethren like Sovereign and Harbinger, but still a nigh unstoppable colossus to mere mortals such as themselves. Another bone jarring sound like a great horn bellowing from the depths of some hell echoed through the air and it fired its weapon once more, one of the connecting bridges to the main part of the ruins simply disappeared in a blast of heat and force.
"Where did Mordin go?" the turian asked, scanning the area with his sniper rifle.
"Took Eve and Kasumi around the right flank in the tomkah," Shepard answered, appearing beside him to pump a few rounds into another husk. "We've got to get those damn hammers going or eventually their transport will get spotted."
Wrex looked back at them both, that same smirk he'd worn ever since they'd set foot on Tuchanka still plastered on his face. He simply popped the heatsink from his gun and slotted in a fresh one before yanking back the charging handle.
"Go. I'll handle this."
He looked to Shepard, meeting the human's gaze despite their helmets and saw his quick nod.
"We'll get it done, Wrex."
"I know. You're Shepard... one Reaper can't stop you. You've killed them before, remember?" the krogan asked.
"We did have a fleet the last time," Garrus pointed out.
"Nah, the fleet had us."
A rueful laugh came from behind Shepard's helmet. Before they turned to head into the ruins Wrex stopped them with a hand on the smaller man's shoulder. The bloodthirsty grin was gone, replaced by a solemn look that Garrus had rarely seen aboard the SR1.
"Wait. Whatever happens... I want you to know that you have been a champion to the krogan people. A friend to Clan Urdnot. And a brother to me. To every krogan born after this day, the name 'Shepard' will mean 'hero'! Now go... and teach this Reaper what happens when you come to Tuchanka for a fight!"
Shepard returned the wrist clasp, armor hitting armor loud enough to echo off the stones. Behind them they heard the howl of husks and could see forms scrambling towards their position. Without another word Wrex turned towards the approaching husks and charged with a roar. Biotic energy poured off him in waves, the smallest husks simply being knocked aside like toys, others already falling under a torrent of fire.
"I AM URDNOT WREX. AND THIS. IS. MY. PLANET!"
And then they moved, a full run deeper into the ruins where two massive hammers awaited. Shepard had suggested using the tomkah and explosives to lure Kalros to the Shroud. It seemed that the ancient krogan had anticipated their needs so long ago, with two massive versions of the hammers that had been used at Grunt's rite still found within the ruins. Constructs of stone that would summon forth the wrath of Tuchanka given physical form in Kalros.
"Left!" Shepard barked.
His rifle was already moving, the first shot catching a Cannibal in the chest and sending it flying off the raised walkway. The pistol in the Spectre's hands kept tempo, picking husks off as soon as they crawled up the ruined walls. Long turian legs and cybernetically enhanced human strides made quick work of the distance, both of them trying to ignore the Reaper as it strode overhead while simultaneously being very aware of just where it was stepping. Finally they reached the end, skidding to a halt to look down at a huge arena built like an altar with a hammer on each side. And in the middle? The lumbering forms of krogan husks... massive Brutes just waiting for them.
"Here's how it goes. I'll make a run for the right one, lay down covering fire as I go. I'll hit it and toss out a few grenades to keep things interesting while I sprint for the opposite side."
"That's an even worse plan than the last one," the turian said, but was already settling into a prone position. "Don't get yourself killed, Shepard. That's an order."
"Pretty sure you don't outrank me, Vakarian. Even if you are one accident away from being Primarch from what I hear," Shepard replied, reloading his pistol.
Garrus blinked and shook his head. How Shepard had gotten that particular piece of information he'd likely never know, odd that he'd bring it up now.
"I'm invoking best friend privileges. Plus I think you're related to Wrex now in some sort of screwed up, krogan adoption way. I can get him on the line, maybe he can order you."
"Maybe so. You've climbed the ranks, though, Garrus. You're a leader now. Never forget it."
And then he was moving, pistol in one hand and a grenade in the other. Almost as one the Brutes undersized heads swung in his direction. Garrus exhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger, the shot sliding perfectly between the armored plates of the first Brute where it's neck met the chest. It roared in pain, staggering as its blood and bile began to gush down its chest. The beast was dead but it would take time for its body to realize it. Shepard was weaving between them like a prize handball forward, though, dodging swipes of their huge claws.
All the while he laid down a steady volley of fire. Sight, inhale, exhale, squeeze, fire. Repeat. Worries about Shepard's mental state, about his family on Palaven, about human customs and weapon upgrades all faded away. This was what he was good at, precise and deadly with a weapon that had been made to destroy monsters. One shot tore out an eye, leaving the target reeling and disoriented. Another struck an arm joint, the gnarled claw falling useless by the beast's side. Others cracked open armored plates to expose vulnerable centers to Shepard's pistol.
The first hammer fell and the ground shook like a mass driver round had struck. And in the distance Garrus almost swore he heard a response, a shudder running through the ground. Then he was back in the zone once more. Shepard was running with everything he had. The barrel of the rifle was beginning to take on a cherry glow but he didn't stop firing. The Spectre rolled under one blow only to be grazed by another, training taking over and making him roll with it. Garrus pumped a round into the Brute's ankle to stagger it, giving Shepard time to get back to his feet.
"Move, Shepard... move," he whispered.
And he did. A blow that should have crushed him was neatly dodged, Shepard actually using the monster's hunched form as a ramp as he pulled himself up and over its hulking form to make a dash for the final hammer. Brutes charged behind but they had lost their momentum, having to pick up speed once more as they gave chase. The opening was more than enough time for the Spectre's long legs to carry him the last hundred yards. He yanked on the controls for their hammer and the stone pillar fell. Another boom shook the earth.
It was at that point that Garrus realized the flaw in this particular plan. The hammers would summon Kalros to garner the Reaper's attention, true, but it wasn't going to do anything about the half dozen Brutes that were doing their best to rend his commander limb from limb. Another grenade caught the leading beast full in the face; Shepard's throw had been true. But it hadn't taken the creature down.
"Run, Garrus! Back to the walkway!" Shepard ordered.
He growled "Like hell, I'm not leaving you behind as a damned snack!"
"Follow the damn order, Vakarian! It was not a fucking request!" Shepard practically snarled, taking him aback. The human was already running himself, taking even the large krogan stairs two at a time as the Brutes began to pick their way up as well.
The turian felt his fringe rising and his mandibles flare with anger of his own. He took a final shot at the nearest abomination, not a fatal one but enough for it to stop and try to protect itself with an armored forearm. A few seconds head start for Shepard before Garrus hissed and turned, sprinting back towards the other end of the long stone bridge. He skidded to a halt at the end, unwilling to flee farther, and took up his shooting position again.
Shepard crested the top of the stairs at a full run, dropping something on the ground behind him as the first Brute appeared behind him. Still running, he threw another of the items at his feet, Garrus finally making the connection just as the explosives triggered. The stone bridge was disintegrating under Shepard's feet even as he ran, the cloud of dust enveloping him from behind. Dropping the rifle, Garrus lunged forward into the billowing cloud.
He could barely see but simply groped on instinct, rewarded with the feeling of a strong grip on his forearm and a sudden weight dragging him forward. Digging his armored boots into the stone Garrus heaved upwards and managed to drag Shepard up and onto the remnants of the bridge. Both of them sagged back against the stone for a moment, panting and covered with fine gray dust. Looking upwards was little comfort, however, with the Reaper still looming ominously. Garrus rolled over and pushed himself to his feet.
"Where is that damned-"
The turian nearly fell once more as everything began to shake and a titanic roar echoed across Tuchanka's desert wastelands. Before their eyes a thresher maw larger than anything Garrus had ever even considered possible burst from the ground and slammed into the Reaper above, the impact as thunderous as any artillery round. A small part of Garrus' brain, the part that held his survival instinct, told him that he should be running. The rest was too much in awe of what he was seeing.
A brilliant ruby lance struck out from the Reaper but only managed to gouge a furrow into the sandy ground as Kalros disappeared beneath the ground once more. The Reaper began to retreat backwards, turning its considerable bulk to and fro to scan for the newfound threat. He glanced to his right to see Shepard watching with the same rapt attention.
"You... uh, okay with this?" he asked, watching the Reaper.
Shepard nodded. "Oddly enough, yes."
Kalros emerged again, trying to grab the machine only to be knocked directly into the Shroud tower. He winced, seeing panels and pieces of metal fly from the facility but thankfully it held. Truly a design meant to withstand even the krogan. At least it broke them out of their fascination with the combat between the two titans.
"We've got to move... damn! If they destroy that damn tower this is all for nothing," Shepard cursed.
He nodded. "I saw a way around when we were making a run for it. Hopefully Wrex has pulled out by now."
"Then let's finish this."
Just as they made it to the entrance of the Shroud facility the Reaper turned, apparently noticing their presence for the first time since the sudden attack by the massive thesher maw. Turning towards them Garrus felt dread settle into the pit of his stomach as that deep bellowing sound filled the air again and energy crackled around Reaper's main gun. The light flared into a brilliant red for a brief moment... and then the ground exploded behind the walking monstrosity, a mighty roar coming from Kalros as she sailed through the air and caught the Reaper directly in the back. A burst of super heated metal obliterated more of the ruins nearby instead of vaporizing them both instantly all thanks to the thresher maw's timely intervention.
"Spirits..." Garrus muttered.
Kalros' serpentine body immediately wrapped around the Reaper in a crushing grip, pulling it down to the ground. The sound of over stressed metal and electrical discharge filled the air. For a moment Garrus swore he heard something that could have the sound of distress coming from the massive Reaper. Then the great thresher maw tightened her coils once more and dove into the sand, dragging the offending machine with her. Seconds later only the disturbed dunes and smoldering ruins remained to speak of the great battle.
"Never thought I'd owe my life to a thresher maw," Shepard said grimly. "Come on, leave the Reaper to its grave. We've got to get to Mordin... this place is falling apart."
It wasn't an exaggeration. Even as they entered the facility Garrus could feel the ground trembling as explosions rocked the building, the battle having taken its toll. Even if Kalros hadn't slammed into the Shroud the Reaper's firepower combined with the great thresher maw's movements had destabilized the ground, further stressing the facility. Much to the turian's relief they found Mordin in the main room, already working at a console. Another explosion rocked the building and they were both forced to dodge to the side, a chunk of the ceiling slamming into the ground between them.
"Mordin! This place is coming apart! Did you do it?" Shepard asked, vaulting over the railing to move to the salarian's side while Garrus kept an eye on the exits.
"Yes! Cure loaded into Shroud databanks, beginning to synthesize now and transmit to other towers around Tuchanka."
"And... Eve?"
"Traumatic for her, but survived. Doing well now, Maelon's data invaluable," Mordin said excitedly. "Good for future of krogan people, will act as stabilizing influence if Urdnot Wrex gets any ideas. Good match."
A panel across the room shorted out and exploded, sending sparks flying. Garrus glanced over his shoulder at the pair and stopped, noticing the heavy pistol in Shepard's right hand. The Spectre was running his thumb along the grip, notch by notch, head down.
What the hell is Shepard doing?
"Mordin."
The doctor turned, fixing Shepard with a peculiar stare. "Cannot delay, Commander."
"I know."
Garrus' eyes widened for a moment as he saw Shepard's body stiffen, the grip on the pistol in his hands tight enough that the turian actually heard the polymer and metal creak. Then it passed, the Spectre's shoulders slumping slightly as he slammed the gun back onto the magnetic plate on his hip. Shepard's voice was weary when he spoke after the brief moment's pause.
"The STG modified the Shroud, Mordin. They sandbagged the system to prevent exactly what we're trying to do."
"Aware. Not unexpected, STG considers all possible scenarios. In highly unlikely event of krogan scientific breakthrough Shroud system modified to increase temperature variance. Fluctuation would negate lasting effect of any cure."
Shepard's head snapped up. "You knew?"
"Of course," Mordin said, smiling. "Dalatrass attempted to make deal?"
"Yes. The cure for the support of the Union."
"Suppose elimination of myself requirement for such a deal. Logical choice, economic power and fleet strength significant. Why didn't you?"
It was all Garrus could do not to yell out loud and demand that they tell him what was going on, preferably before the building exploded around them. He wasn't stupid, but clearly both Shepard and Mordin had more information than he did about what was happening, leaving him to scramble to connect the trail in his mind. It sounded like the Salarian Dalatrass had offered Shepard the backing of the Salarian government in exchange for not curing the genophage. Mordin was dedicated to curing the genophage. Meaning such a deal...
Spirits... that was the decision, Shepard?
"Maybe I should have, Mordin," Shepard replied, voice emotionless. "But this is all I have left. One line I haven't crossed yet."
The salarian reached out to put a hand on Shepard's shoulder.
"Many decisions. Many lives. Choices... difficult. But trust you to make right ones. Still do. Good luck, Shepard."
Then Mordin turned and strode into the nearby elevator, leaving both a stunned turian and human in his wake. Garrus couldn't stop his yell this time.
"What the hell, Mordin? You can't go up there! If you do..."
The doctor nodded.
"Explosion will be... problematic. Recommend you both retreat to a safe distance."
He looked at Shepard, dumbfounded, but the Spectre wouldn't meet his gaze. Instead Shepard turned to face Mordin squarely and snapped his arm up in a salute. The voice that filtered through his helmet was controlled, but thick and raspy.
"The galaxy could have used their best genius for awhile longer, Mordin."
Mordin was still smiling when he punched the key on his omni-tool to activate the lift.
"Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong."
And so goes one of the greatest characters in the Mass Effect series.
So, I've got two very wonderful readers helping me by editing the previous versions of Razor's Edge (seeing as how I didn't have my handy betas the first two times around). Once that happens I'm going to spend some time updating Razor's Edge with replacement chapters to fix all the typos at which point I'll post an update on those stories.
One item that has come up though is apparently it's cool to have covers for these ridiculously long works ;) I, however, feel bad about yoinking peoples artwork for such a purpose. Long ago I had commissioned a work but the artist never actually finished it, and honestly as much as I like this story I don't have the money to shell out for a pro. So I figured why not ask here? Anyone of you out there have some artistic talent and would be willing to help me out with a nice cover graphic for the completed Razor's Edge?
Hope you're all still enjoying the tale, as you can see I've already started taking more liberties. It gets interesting from here on out.
