Doctor Liara T'Soni tried desperately to avoid clawing at the edges of her seat as the Mako dipped and buckled over the crags of rocky formations that adorned Virmire's lush surface. The surface was coated with more "interesting terrain" than she would have preferred to experience firsthand. Exploring the world on her own might have been preferable without the presence of the geth, but the lieutenant's apparent lack of driving skill was not making the journey any less nauseating. She might have been considered a child among her people, but she took no comfort in the realization that Lieutenant Alenko was by far the clumsiest driver she'd known in her full century of existence.
"May I make a suggestion?" she tried maintain composure despite her obvious distress.
"Only if I can give an order first", came Shepard's unusual reply. The commander was a persistent source of bewilderment for the young asari. The motivations that drove her often eluded Liara's best intellectual efforts. She was the first human Spectre, though. Perhaps exceptionality was more appropriate for Shepard than other humans.
"Orders, Commander?" the Lieutenant's voice was barely audible through the scraping of rock and crashing of trees and wild waters splashing against the windows. Shepard had reassured her that the vehicle's defenses and hull were exceptionally strong, but those words felt very distant now. Why had she even volunteered to accompany Shepard on their journey across this treacherous world? She must have known there would be dangerous surprises along the way.
Then again, the severity of their predicament built quite rapidly once they reached Virmire. Liara was no stranger to violent conflict, but she never actually went looking for it. She felt very much outside her element here, in an armored vehicle, on a strange planet, with two humans she barely knew.
"Lieutenant. Get the Mako back on the beach. You'll make Liara lose her lunch".
"Aye-aye, Commander".
Several more bumps, and finally their ride was smooth again. T'Soni exhaled, and allowed her back to ease against the chair for only a brief moment when the lieutenant spoke up.
"Looks like they're waiting for us up ahead. Could try to decelerate, hit the armature at long range. Soften them up, if nothing else".
"Agreed. Ready for a little payback, Liara?" Shepard turned to the unsuspecting scholar sitting in the rear of the Mako.
"Payback?" she asked.
"You take the guns. Set your first shot carefully, because they'll be returning fire once they see us. Got it?"
Liara nodded, although her heart began to flutter uncontrollably. She knew the Mako was equipped with some kind of weapon system, and she expected it would see some use throughout the course of their excursion. She did not anticipate that the commander would insist upon her operating any heavy weaponry, however. She lacked the skill, training, and experience for such tasks. By the goddess, what had she gotten herself into? The anxious asari knew the controls would feel alien in her hands, but perhaps Shepard trusted that she was a fast learner.
First time for everything.
Where had she heard that phrase before? She remembered the Normandy's rowdy pilot, the way he seemed to make jokes even in the most desperate of circumstances. Liara guessed that it was some kind of psychological defense or coping mechanism, to deal with the strain of his job. If he laughed in the face of danger, perhaps she could find something to laugh about as well.
The lieutenant, hands steady on the Mako's steering apparatus, raised his voice and snapped her back into the present.
"Almost in firing range, Doctor T'Soni. Sure you're alright with this?"
She nodded emphatically, wordlessly. Her mouth felt dry.
Doctor T'Soni wished she knew more jokes.
Pangs of hunger wracked their way through Urdnot Wrex's stomach like a frenzied varren on a fresh and bloody carcass. He never much cared for varren, though. Never understood why so many krogan felt the need to use the little monsters as nocturnal sentinels and household amusements. They couldn't have been easy to domesticate, but then again, Wrex didn't know much about animals.
There were only two kinds of animal he cared about: the ones that were dangerous, and the ones that tasted good.
The fact that he was frequently treated like an animal probably didn't help much, either. If someone treated you like the scum of the galaxy, it was hard to take an interest in less sophisticated forms of life. That sort of business could go to the salarians, with their endless chatter and tiny skulls.
Then again, his people weren't too big on endless chatter. And their skulls were huge, easily big enough to fit several salarian skulls inside.
"How many more are on the way? You only came with a single ship?" a delicate voice interrupted his amusing fantasy.
Wrex knew the irritating voices of salarians as well as any krogan, like the early morning caw of the dreaded Pukubi. Pukubi had fragile little necks, easy enough to snap if one became too much of a nuisance.
"Our commander is on his way, Captain. I told you she'll be here any minute", the armor-clad human chirped angrily at the salarian. Wrex always found her noisiness to be less irritating than the salarians', but then again, humans were newcomers to the galactic stage. They hadn't earned a place on the council, or gotten cozy enough to lord power over all the other species like the salarians did. Wrex suspected that humans weren't above using genocide to ensure their power, but he couldn't be certain.
Humans were a weird bunch, hard to predict. Turians got uncomfortable when the humans slapped their fleet around during the First Contact War. Anyone who wasn't afraid to slap around the turian fleet deserved a firm nod, in his book.
"I hope they're alright. The geth have some of their best armature guarding these cliffs", more chatter filled the air. It might have been from a different person, Wrex wasn't sure and he certainly didn't care. He strolled down the beach, wondering if there were any good fish in the water. The ornery krogan scraped his tongue across the tips of his teeth, struggling to remember the last time he sank his them into a fresh chunk of meat. Spacers, even wealthy ones, ate like beggars. Wrex hated space travel. Spending so many hours sitting in the lower deck of the Normandy had been brutal on his metabolism.
Wrex glanced back at the medley of chatterboxes only when he overheard the turian suggest something about a "search party". Searching meant leaving this boring scene, not to mention a good chance of finding something to kill. The geth were synthetics, so it wouldn't do much to stave off his hunger, but at least there would be a distraction until they could move on to more exciting things.
He let out a grunt of disappointment when he saw Shepard's vehicle approach them from the cliffs. The rest of the Normandy's crew reacted very strongly to the sight; everyone stood to their feet, checked their equipment, spruced themselves up real nicely for the commander. Krogans didn't have that kind of pretension. If you had a problem with a krogan, you could say it right to his face, and he'd grant you the same courtesy. Lots of species, especially the asari, showered themselves in fanciful dreams and petty pursuits.
Not him. Wrex knew that in the end, all creatures had to die. Once you accepted that, you wouldn't get bogged down in stupid crap.
His red eyes blinked in the sunlight. Everyone gathered around Shepard, not surprisingly. Wrex knew she wouldn't be too happy when she found out what was going on, and how the council screwed up again. It was too bad, seeing a great warrior like Shepard get chained down by political whiners and whatnot. She stood in full armor, with her arms crossed as the salarian spewed meaningless words at her. Shepard looked unimpressed, maybe even agitated. Wrex saved the image in his mind for later review. The upcoming fight was going to be very bloody. Maybe when it was over, he could recall the image and keep himself amused during the quieter hours.
The krogan snorted in satisfaction before heading back to the flimsy encampment. He could always hear the battle plan later, but there was still the chance Shepard might mouth off at the salarian captain if he gave her a hard time about some minor issue. That would also be worth reviewing later. Right now, he was too irritable to savor humorous conflict. There was something about the sunny planet that just didn't sit well with him. Salarians usually had something salty on hand; maybe he would feel better after crunching on some of their dehydrated rations. If nothing else, he could enjoy their squeaks of protest as he pawed through their supplies.
The hungry krogan left deep tracks in the pale sand, and never glanced back at the jagged lightning spiking distant islands. The day would not end well, but he was not afraid to die.