The sun was just cresting the horizon, glinting through the almost nonexistent atmosphere of Jurge, when Shrub decided to check in on Karla.
The room that the medic had put aside for her was little more than a closet, one meter by two, but at least it had a window. Outside the solar panels that powered the prefab unit where unfurling for the day, ready to soak in the meagre rays. Shrub could see the tracks leading from the airstrip into the airlock of the prefab. The previous day's winds hadn't been strong enough to cover them. As the sun rose the reinforced glass of the window tinted automatically to block out the glare.
Shrub squinted to make out anything in the dark; a military folding cot had been set up under the window and Karla was sprawled immobile upon it. Her head was still swathed in bandages.
"Karla? Are you awake?" Shrub kept his voice soft so as not to rouse her if she was sleeping but she moaned and rolled onto her shoulder to face him. The eye that wasn't covered in cotton crinkled as she winced. In the gloom her normally mud brown eye looked black and empty.
"I feel like shit." She paused to lick her cracked lips. "What happened to the battle? The last thing I remember is hitting that fucking Krogan with a big warp field."
Shrub would really rather not have to relive the trauma of the last two days but he knew from experience that it was better to give her what she wanted while she was still asking somewhat politely.
"A lot happened after that. Just as you used your biotics on the Krogan he stabbed you. In the eye. I'm told it's pretty bad. Norn dragged you inside before you could asphyxiate and you were loaded onto a gunship headed back to camp, I came with you. One of the perimeter turrets must have survived. We were shot down. We had to wait until we were picked up by Ravenor scouts."
Karla stayed uncharacteristically quiet, normally Shrub would have expected her to jump up and start stomping around swearing like a trooper but she just lay there, staring blankly.
"What about Kel, Claire?" She said eventually.
"As far as I know they're fine. I haven't seen either of them yet."
"Good." She threw off the blanket, swung her feet out of bed and tried to stand up. She stood there immobile for a few seconds then sat back down suddenly and pulled the covers over her head.
"What's the matter?" Shrub surprised himself with the genuine concern he felt towards her. He hated Karla didn't he?
She didn't reply but instead loosed off a long string of profanities so coarse that shrub cringed and backed off.
"I'll get the doctor."
The medic's name was Lacroix, he didn't claim to be a doctor and he didn't particularly look like one. He was a human man in his mid forties with salt and pepper hair and at least three days worth of stubble covering his impressive chin. He wore a disposable plastic apron over a ballistic vest, his muscular arms were bare. At his hip was a large, gene-locked, holster.
All of this Karla noted with a kind of detached, dreamlike clarity as he entered. He crouched down next to her cot while Shrub hovered by the door.
"Karla could you sit up for me please?" He asked in lightly accented Sari.
She swung her feet over the side of the bed with a grimace. As soon as she was vertical she moaned and pulled her knees up to her chest.
"Could you describe the discomfort you are feeling?"
Karla stayed curled up and began kneading her good eye socket with her knee.
"Um… my head feels hot, full. It's like it's full of stuff that could burst out at any second. Whenever I move I get this dizzy feeling and I feel sick."
Without standing up Lacroix pulled an actual paper notepad and pencil from his back pocket. He began taking notes, speaking aloud as he did so.
"Possible infection: likely infection sites include the wound itself and inner ear due to lack of balance and disorientation." He said this in his own language but Shrub's translator let them understand what he was saying.
"I have good news and bad news." He said, switching seamlessly back to Sari. "The good news is that most of your symptoms can be explained by an infection and exposure to this planets atmosphere. Both of these problems are easily treatable now that you are awake. The bad news is that the puncture wound you suffered has caused some nerve damage as well as costing you your eye."
"How bad is it?" Asked Shrub seriously, Karla remained silent.
"I can't say Asari physiology isn't really my specialty. The Asari brain has several nerve centers absent in humans so I really can't chart the damage."
"So what should I do?" Asked Karla looking up.
"I recommend you let me treat you for infection and exposure, I'll write up a file for any symptoms that remain which you can take to an Asari clinic."
"That would take weeks, there's really nothing you can do?" Shrub spoke up hotly.
Lacroix stood and turned to face the Salarian who suddenly looked more than a little intimidated by his imposing presence.
"You haven't heard? Some Reapers arrived in system yesterday and are rebuilding the relay. The clans are debating whether or not to go to war since they didn't sign the treaty."
Shrub looked stunned "What treaty?"
"Jesus you are out of the loop. Listen I've got other patients to see but I'll be back with some antibiotics in a while. In the meantime try to get some rest. Once we are back on Tuchanka you should really get an extranet connection and use it to get up to date on current events."
Once he had left the room Shrub sat on the bed next to Karla.
"Did you notice he didn't use a translator?" She asked after a while.
He nodded slowly, lost in his own thoughts. "It's over isn't it?"
"Over?" She looked up sharply, her single brown eye drilling into him.
"This mercenary plan of yours. We can't carry on as we are."
Karla tried to kind her feet again but was overcome by another wave of nausea so she lay back and continued with an arm draped over her face.
"Why not? I'll bounce back and you heard Kel: we have all the elements we need. You're tech, Kel has the actual experience, Claire makes the plans and I write the cheques."
"Karla I just don't think you are being realistic. Claire had plans during the battle, lots of them, good ones too. No one listened to her." He paused as if waiting for an angry retort but when none was forthcoming he hurried on.
"When you went charging off half cocked Kel had to take over, if not for him we would both have been killed."
She brushed past his worries with infuriating airiness.
But what are they saying about me? They must have heard that I killed Krell."
Shrub sighed but was too used to his boss's in the moment attitude to be offended.
"From what I can tell the Krogan are impressed but the mercs are annoyed that someone they had never heard of got to Krell first."
Karla couldn't show too much emotion since she was still trying not to move but her voice was excited.
"Perfect! How can you say we're done Shrub? This could make us. A few words in the right ears and I could be D'mel the shaman slayer or some shit. Who wouldn't sign up with us then huh?"
Shrub crossed his arms with finality. "You're not serious."
"Well I could be Karla the Krogan killer but that's a bit racist. We needed a rep and now we have one. Go me! If I'd known all it takes to kick start a career is to loose a body part or two I would have done it centuries ago."
Sure enough word of Karla's 'duel' had spread throughout the prefab complex. Once the news that D'mel enterprises was hiring began to circulate offers of support began flooding in from the freelancers as well as several more cautious messages from contracted mercs looking for better employment. Crucially the crew of the Turian mercenary frigate Valorous pledged their allegiance right then and there. Even medic Lacroix, when asked, muttered something in French too quiet to hear and accepted.
The secret to the overwhelming success of Karla D'mel's initial recruiting drive was partly her hot off the presses reputation and partly the terms of employment she offered. She told everyone that she was planning on keeping the operation relatively small which drove up demand as the mercs clamored for what they saw as a limited time deal. She said each employee would be well paid, well trained and well equipped. In short she knew her audience and exactly what they wanted to hear. She also had Shrub run scrupulous background checks on everyone who signed up.
After three days of bed rest and backroom alliances Lacroix deemed Karla fit to travel. As long as she didn't try to use biotics she could move around freely without dizziness. She received visits from both Kelron and Claire who were both miraculously uninjured themselves.
They ferried a compliment of Krogan soldiers including Brek back to Tuchanka where they followed Lacroix's advice and did some much needed catching up. It was a lot to take in. Not only had the Reapers returned, they had somehow convinced the leaders of the galaxy to agree to an armistice that placed the genocidal machines in the role of 'peacekeepers.' Indoctrination was the word on everyone's lips. There was news of popular revolts taking place on almost every council world.
It took three weeks for the Reapers to rebuild the relay. No one on Tuchanka saw any sign of them in that time but surreptitious scout reports kept the clans up to date on their progress. The crew of the Deserts Tears spent their time recharging and taking in the simple pleasures that they had missed during their journey: non-recycled air, varied conversation etcetera.
Luckily for themselves the disparate clans were unable to decide on a course of action against the Reapers before the relay was completed. The first ship through was carrying Urdnot clanchief Wrex who quickly got the other chiefs back under his heel, at least according to Brek.
Karla found herself in an uncomfortable position: she suddenly had close to two dozen men and women at her beck and call, willing to fight and die at her command but had no way to pay them. How long would it take for the shiny veneer of victory to wear off? 'No merc works for free.' Were Kelron's ominous words.
She couldn't legally accept contracts for anyone beyond the current crew of the Deserts Tears since she wasn't a formal employer. Even the Blood Pack was a formally recognized company. If she wanted to hold on to her brief sense of importance and recognition she would need a legal charter and there were few places in the galaxy that would offer something like that to a woman like her. So she decided to go to Illium.
Norn came to visit her in Brek's quarters in the Ravenor fort before she left. He was fully armoured and cut a menacing figure in the doorway of the small cave that served as her room. Karla looked up from her half packed bag. The bandages were gone now, replaced by an elasticated cotton eye patch.
"Norn. I was hoping I would see you before I left. Shrub, my Salarian, told me that you pulled my ass out of the fire while I was out. Thanks."
Norn nodded but didn't enter the room.
"I saved your live so you owe me a debt."
Karla put down the socks she had been folding and crossed the space between them so as to square up to the Krogan, just as she had done when they first arrived.
"I guess. I don't like having things hanging over my head Norn; you wouldn't have come to me if you didn't have something in mind. What is it?"
Karla was a scant few centimetres from his face but he didn't blink.
"I want you to take your new friends and go. I want you never return to clan Ravenor."
Her eye widened. "Why? I'm Brek's krantt I've proved myself."
"Krell was wrong about the Krogan but he wasn't wrong about you. Aliens on Tuchanka only weaken the clan. In honour of your life debt to me I never want to see you again."
Karla was clearly vivid but when she spoke her voice was eerily calm. "Brek is my friend. I'm not about to-"
Norn interrupted her. "Before you make a mistake think on this: I was there when you killed Krell. How long do you think the honour name 'shaman slayer' will last when your new underlings learn that you besting him was a fluke? Fair weather friends D'mel."
Karla's jaw muscles worked under her skin as she fought some great internal struggle. Her voice hissed out from between her pursed lips.
"Fine you limp dicked motherfucker but I won't forget that you blackmailed me into going. So much for Krogan honour huh."
Norn shrugged calmly. "If I just killed you Brek would be compelled to avenge you. I'd rather not kill a good man."
They left Tuchanka the early the next day.