PHOENIX RESURGENT
A Mass Effect Story by Vyrexuviel
Disclaimer: The author of this story does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Shoutout: Thanks go to Darman Sejuk for assisting me greatly with this fic, even roughing out scenes for polish. He's a great guy, very patient with me for assing around when I should be writing. Also, a huge THANK YOU to ArchAngelGundam, who's posted a comment on almost every chapter. I write for people like you, Archie! ^^ So, without further ado, here's the Tuchanka chapter!
WARNING! Some rather graphic descriptions inside, you have been warned!
Citadel Demilitarization Enforcement Mission -
Captain Karakius watched the oddly-shaped shuttle dive into the burning heat of Tuchanka's atmosphere. He suppressed a shudder as he remembered the forbidding face of Councilor Tevos. She had informed him in no uncertain terms that the agent aboard was indeed a Spectre, and had the full backing of the Council, and he had best not do less than fully cooperate with any and all requests. He had immediately granted full clearance for that ship to pass to and fro as needed, but he still felt a chill. Not just a Spectre, with the tacit approval of the Council, but one on a fully sanctioned mission and with full backup from the entire Citadel Fleet if she wanted it. He hadn't actually -seen- the agent, just heard her and received an odd Spectre recognition code, one that his terminal had at first listed as 'inactive'. That was why he had bounced the query up his chain of command. He hadn't expected that chain to reach -that- high up. He couldn't help it, he shivered slightly and hoped that whatever business this mysterious Spectre had on Tuchanka, she finished it and left without making his pleasantly boring life far more exciting than he could deal with.
Tuchanka, Shuttle Approach -
Shepard glanced over at Tali, who was bouncing slightly as the geth-piloted shuttle slipped carefully down the vertical pipe in Tuchanka's storm-lashed surface. The quarian girl was excited to see Wrex again, the old krogan had been something of a mentor to her while on the Normandy, teaching her the basics of hand-to-hand self-defense, enough so she wouldn't accidentally shoot herself with her shotgun if someone got too close to her. He had taken her under his wing, to some degree, making sure that the crew hadn't harassed her too much, not that she needed it with Addams personally vowing to deck the man who made her cry. Garrus was checking over his rifle. Again. Shepard smirked slightly at the turian's almost religious obsession with maintaining his equipment. Then again, when one didn't know when or where the next batch of replacement parts were going to show up, one had to make certain that one's equipment didn't jam at an inopportune moment. Mordin had declined to venture onto Tuchankan soil, stating a prior visit that had unpleasant memories attached. Shepard knew better than to pry.
Grunt and Okeer hulked at the far wall, the latter's wrists still clamped firmly. Once Okeer had learned he was to be taken to Tuchanka to face krogan justice, he had attempted to escape. Once. Krogan or not, Shepard had put him down hard. Sometimes her unfair advantage was more of a field-leveler than an unstoppable weapon. It had taken swarming up on the rampaging krogan's hump and threatening to fry his eyeballs if he didn't go quietly before he finally stopped trying to bash his way through the airlock door.
She straightened slightly as the shuttle settled to the concrete of the landing pad. She nodded to Garrus, who's mandibles flexed slightly. The scarred one was slightly lower than the other now, but it only served to give him a sort of rakish grin, the top teeth on that side permanently exposed. Tali didn't need to suit up, but Garrus did, to filter out the radioactive fallout still lingering in Tuchankan atmosphere, and he slid his helmet on with a soft hiss. The hatch whined open, exposing the dusty-red world of the Krogan.
The krogan guard gestured for them to exit, growling quietly as first Grunt, then Okeer exited behind Shepard. She had decided to go the intimidating route, selecting the chromed armor instead of the glossy black one. Legion had a small armory in the back of the ship where he could re-fabricate worn, damaged or destroyed armor into something new, given enough time. So far, he had claimed to be working on something more substantial for her, involving exoskeletal struts and servos, which took time to fabricate. Shepard didn't mind, though she on occasion wondered just what he was doing in there.
Tuchanka, Urdnot Headquarters -
'By the Ancestors! I knew uniting the clans would take time but not this long.' Urdnot Wrex struggled not to fall asleep while halfheartedly listening to the badgering of Gatatog Uvenk. Back when he conceived of this absurd endeavor, he could just have shot the annoying and stupid krogan, but after what Shepard taught him two years ago, Wrex realized that he'd have to work with all of his race, not just a select few if he was to make any difference in the long run.
As Uvenk started on another rant about how he was disregarding tradition with his action, Wrex noticed a small group out of the corner of his eye. He was about to disregard the group until with a start he spotted two that he would happily call his krantt.
He recognized the Turian instantly from the clan markings and the characteristic sniper rifle attached to his back. At least he finally managed to get a few scars to impress the females. The Quarian next to him could only be the spunky kid, even with the change in the outfit. What stood behind her startled him when he realized that there were several Geth standing guard around a very old and hated enemy of the Krogan race. He knew, through his contacts in the Council that the Warlord was being brought back to face his crimes, but the Geth were a different story altogether.
"Heh, things are finally getting interesting around here." Wrex muttered mainly to himself as his eyes traveled from the group to two others that had split off from the group and were observing the area. Even from his throne, Wrex could smell the young blood coming off the Krogan, indicating that this pup was on the cusp of adulthood and would need to take the rite of passage soon. The other observer perplexed him though, he got no scent from her at all, other than the machine-oil and metal scent of armor.
Deciding to dismiss the ranting of the crybaby Uvenk, Wrex launched himself from his throne and strode purposely over to the group, his lips pulling back in a welcoming smile. Once he got to within arm's reach of the quarian, Wrex wrapped his strong arms in a bear hug around her and actually lifted the petite alien off the ground.
"Yeep! Wrex, dammit, put me down, you boshtet!" Yup, same old Tali.
"You've grown, little one! look at you, you handle that shotgun like a pro, now!" He chuckled and nodded to Garrus as he set the female down. "Looking good there yourself, Garrus. What happened, love bite?"
The turian's no longer symmetric mandibles spread slightly in a grin. "Not exactly, but close. I pissed someone off. He had a gunship."
Wrex gave a booming laugh. "Ha! well, watch yourself, Garrus, the females really go for those battle scars." He turned to the third, who had hung back a little. He noted that the youngling seemed to have taken up station just behind and to her left. Enough out of range not to interfere with any move she made, but close enough to assist if she asked. 'Well-trained youngster, then.' "And who might you be?"
The figure, her metaglass visor mirrored, bobbed her head slightly to the krogan chieftain. "A Spectre. Urdnot Wrex, I bring you a good-will gift from the Council. We found your trash for you. What happens to it is up to you." She (and Wrex had enough experience with humans now to tell) turned and indicated the dark-plated face of Okeer, who growled and gnashed his teeth, but seemed quite subdued in this petite female's presence. "He says his name is Okeer. No clan affiliation."
Wrex took a step back, surveying the ancient Despoiler. "Okeer is a very old name. A very hated name. Do you know what he did, Spectre?" When she shook her head, he continued. "He's the last of his clan. He hoodwinked several other clans into believing he had a vaccine for the Genophage, soon after it was deployed, but it wouldn't work on infertile females. The clans he deceived sent him their fertile females, and stood rearguard for Okeer as he made his escape. When they caught up with his clan, the found every last one of those females butchered. Flayed open. Their ovaries removed." Wrex's ruby eyes glittered as he glared into Okeer's. "He's the reason Clan Krenshak, Clan Uroz, Clan Kethir, Clan Laarat, Clan Sikkun, and seven others are extinct."
The Spectre hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the prisoner. "I...see. Well, if I had known that when I caught up to him, he wouldn't be here now." She faced back front again. "My orders form the Council are to deliver him to you for justice, as an act of good-will. Do with him as Krogan law dictates."
There was a rustling murmur as Wrex studied Okeer, ruby eyes meeting sulfurous yellow, before Okeer cast his eyes down. "huh. Shaman, what say you? You are the guardian of Krogan custom, what punishment fits the crime?"
The shaman shuffled forward, his eyes riveted on Okeer, growling slightly. Tali and Garrus shifted uneasily, moving out of the way as the Geth kept Okeer under control. The shaman studied Okeer for a long while, before turning, almost having to tear his gaze from the captive. "Let Tuchanka judge him. Give him three days water, but no food, and drop him into the Great Desert. If he survives long enough to reach a settlement, let them decide what to do with him."
Okeer jerked his head up, glaring at the Shaman as Wrex nodded slowly. More rustlings and whisperings, some growls from the older krogan, but mostly puzzled looks at Okeer. "Yes... Let the desert devour him. Give him three days water, and drop him a thousand klicks into the White Desert. Let Tuchanka gnaw his bones."
The elder krogan made as if to lunge at Wrex, but every krogan around reached for a weapon. They didn't need to, though, the four Geth combat platforms yanked him back. He roared in protest, struggling mightily as six scarred krogan came to drag him away. "I will have your head for this, Urdnot pup! I! Will! Have! Your! Head!"
Wrex stared at him for a while, then slowly, deliberately, turned away from the shouting krogan. Okeer howled, but was dragged away.
Shepard could barely hold in her glee at seeing Wrex again. Her hands wanted to clout the krogan's hump and say hello properly, but she kept herself in hand. After Okeer had been dragged off to whatever fate awaited him, she had sent the geth platforms back to wait in the shuttle, as they plainly disturbed Wrex. Even as they strode off, he asked tali about them, and she explained how they had contacted her with an offer of a ceasefire and possible total cessation of hostilities. Wrex looked dubious, "After we slaughtered so many of them? and what about you, Tali, you really believe they don't want to fight anymore?"
She shrugged slightly, bouncing a little in that endearing little way she had, "We've worked together for several weeks now and, well, they're still a bit to get used to, but at least these aren't shooting at us."
He chuckled quietly, giving Tali's shoulder a pat, "Well, for you that's good. Just remember what I taught you."
She recited, a bit of an amused lilt in her voice, "Keep your gun well-maintained, your eye alert, and find someone you trust to watch your back. I remember, Wrex."
Shepard grinned behind her mirrored faceplate. She had been there when Wrex gave Tali her first few lessons, and recognized the line. She schooled her features and stepped up closer, "Warlord Wrex, I have a few other things to discuss with you, if you have the time." She glanced over at Uvenk, who had watched the entire proceedings from his place near the throne. "Somewhere where we can't be overheard."
Wrex cocked his head at her, curious. "Alright." He glanced about, then up, "This way." He led the group through a doorway behind his throne, through a short corridor, through one of those wide Tuchankan doors, and through an antechamber into what was clearly a krogan-style living space. A slab served as both couch and chairs as the big krogan fiddled with his omnitool. A soft beep sounded, and a muffled hum rippled through the room. "There. Sound baffling system is up and running. I occasionally have to make deals with certain clans that it would not be wise for other clans to know about. What was it you wanted to discuss, Spectre?"
Shepard couldn't resist a wide, cheerful grin, reaching up to unclasp her helmet seal. The sudden rush of freezing-cold air over her pauldrons caused instant frost to feather her armor with a rime of ice, carefully pulling her helm free and tossing her head slightly to unstick her hair before gazing straight and direct at the Krogan. "For one thing, my identity. It's good to see you, Wrex." She grinned uncontrollably at the sight of a flabbergasted krogan.
Purgatory -
Warden Kuril was not happy. If the reports that he's received from the mission to guard their production of Krogan soldiers was a complete failure. It would seem that the So called supplier of troops decided to back stab them and start releasing berserk forces against the blue suns garrison that was stationed there. Per standard procedure Jedore started a clean sweep of the facility and local area to remove any evidence of their actions but after they started things began to turn for the worse.
From what he could piece together, an outside force pierced their anti-air screen and made planetfall. From what the sensor records could show one of the personal in the drop ship was thrown from the cabin and made a hard landing. After that the reports and scans started to become unclear, as if someone was jamming the transmissions.
As Kuril finished that thought, he heard the elevator to his office reach his level and open. At this point there is a hallway that heads towards not only his office, but the bridge and the primary engineering level for security reasons. As the occupant of the neared the door to his office, Kuril started to wonder what Jedore's excuse for this failure would be, and what the punishment for one of his top lieutenants should be. After his door chimed that an authorized code had been entered and the door swooshed open, Kuril waited with his chair turned around so that the lieutenant could stew before he grilled her over the failure of her mission.
After a moment she said one word.
"Sir".
With that one word, Kuril realized something was terribly wrong. He quickly turned around to discover what the problem was, and he was stunned by what he saw. Jedore was leaning heavily on a crutch made from parts of a rifle. The need for the crutch was evident, with her knee looking like someone worked on it with a buzzsaw. Her armor looked like it was in close proximity to an explosion. It was her face that shocked him the most. Half of it looked like a grenade blew close by and the other half was as pale as paper. As his eyes traveled over his lieutenant he managed to catch her eyes in a stare that spoke volumes about how the mission fared, and why the only troops to return were in her shuttle.
"Tell me what happened."
Kuril gestured to the chair opposite from his, punishment forgotten in light of what she must have gone though. As she began to report on what happened, Kuril cross checked what she said with what the records and sensors told him. When she got to the part of Geth forces with several aliens and an unknown experimental synthetic, he started to worry about her. When she got to the point of the unknown throwing a piece of the railing through her knee in retaliation for the missiles, he subtly winced while she clutched at the wound. When she revealed that the unit wasn't a synthetic but an actual person, one that should be dead no less he began to worry about her mental state.
"I've got proof, sir." Her omnitool out and played exactly what the woman had said. As the message finished Kuril leaned back against his chair and blew out a breath that he hadn't realized he had drawn.
"This is not going to end well. We need to notify all Blue Sun bases to be on the lookout for Shepard and to not provoke her in any way." He started saying out loud, but before he could reach for his terminal to broadcast the warning and try to contact his counterparts in the other merc groups in the traverse he noticed that Jedore was about to start speaking.
"Sir, I agree that precautions need to be made in light of Shepard's return, but I think that I need to take a break from the action for a while. To clear my head and to have my knee and other wounds treated properly." She spoke plainly, but Kuril caught the trembling note voice. She had been more badly shaken up by the incident than she was allowing to show on the surface.
Knowing that the Blue Suns medics weren't up to the kind of surgery needed to reconstruct her knee, he decided to allow her the medical leave . Against what the surviving mercs' omnitools had documented, he doubted that he could have done any better during the mission.
As Jedore made her way to the door of his office, Kuril could hear her muttering about having her physical therapy on one of the colony worlds, maybe Horizon. Kuril turned to his terminal and began filling out the paperwork for Jedore's leave, while hoping that when she returns, she'll be back to her former self.
A stray thought froze him in his tracks for a moment, then he carefully saved and filed the paperwork, bringing up a list of bounties. He knew it had to be there... ahhhh. Warden Kuril of the Blue Suns penitentiary vessel Purgatory slow spread his mandibles in a wide, wicked smile.
Tuchanka, Wrex's Private Quarters -
Wrex sipped at his third ryncol. "So, let me get this straight. Your ship was shot to pieces, you got spaced, fell through the atmosphere, and crash-landed on top of a spire of crystal on Alchera, which then proceeded to make, well, -this- out of you?"
Shepard smirked, "To put it in a nutshell, yeah." She sipped her own ryncol. It had a pleasant buzz to it, and something about it pepped her up. Possibly some sort of chemical reaction with her crystalline guts, she supposed. She'll need to have Mordin check it.
"You -do- realize that sounds suspiciously similar to what the Geth were doing with those colonists of yours on, what did you call them, those Dragon's Teeth?"
Shepard set her glass down, suddenly serious. "I know, Wrex. I'm not certain what they did to me, but at least I'm -alive- to talk about it. And still myself, though admittedly, a bit different."
He grinned at her, knocking back the rest of his drink and pouring another. "Just glad it's you, Shepard. I knew the Void couldn't hold onto you. You're the best battlemaster I ever had, made me consider things I hadn't really thought about in centuries."
She grinned slightly, "You still call me Battlemaster, Wrex? My, that's quite an honor, -Warlord-."
He guffawed and raised his glass. She clinked against his, grinning unrepentantly as the pair drank. "So, what brings you to me, aside from returning a bit of old bother?"
"The Reapers are still coming, Wrex. I suppose you figured that, since you're trying to build up your race into an army." He nodded and she continued, "Good, keep doing it. I'll need them when the time comes." She gave him a soft smile, "It'll be just like old times."
He snorted, "Nothing can be like old times, Shepard. We won't be charging head-first into danger, guns blazing."
Her eyes twinkled as she chuckled, "Nope. This time, we'll have an -army- at our backs."
Their mingled laughter filled the room.
Lazarus Station, Normandy CIC -
Two hours. That is the time needed to finish prepping for launch the part-finished super-frigate that was constructed from improved plans for the original Normandy stealth frigate to finish being prepared for launch from the hidden station.
As Miranda walked down the path from the cockpit towards the elevator situated behind the CIC, she couldn't help but spy the open panels and missing consoles around the room that showed that the ship was far from complete, even though this area and engineering were the two most completed sections of the ship. As she walked past the yeoman that was currently double-checking the computer systems, the yeoman took a covert glance at the operative in charge of the final stages of the construction, and was shocked at what she saw.
At a glance, Yeoman Kelly Chambers instantly knew that something was horribly wrong with the high level Cerberus operative. From the near constant twitches in her left hand to the deep bags under the eyes. She could tell that even though the operative was wearing makeup to cover the more apparent symptoms of sleep deprivation and, from some symptoms, drug abuse.
As she continued to covertly watch Miranda, the operative opened her omnitool. "Is the reactor online yet?" But she couldn't hear the response.
Once she finished the conversation, Miranda turned to the yeoman, "We'll be leaving dock once the rest of the personal are on board. Notify me when we are ready."
With that, Miranda started to walk towards the elevator end of the CIC. Kelly voiced a question in a confused voice. "We're leaving now? What about finishing the rest of the ship?"
Just before the door of the elevator closed Miranda looked over her shoulder and simply replied with, "We're joining her."
"Her?" Was all Kelly Chamber repeated in a confused tone before it dawned on the yeoman what the operative meant.
Lazarus Station, Normandy Elevator -
Miranda leaned against the wall of the elevator, breathing deeply from maintaining the facade of the expert operative, instead of the quivering mess that had taken her place. As her left hand stated to reach towards the pouch with the injector of the drug that she had been using to escape the nightmares that 'that face' had been plaguing her since Freedoms Progress she stopped the movement with her right hand. She activated her omnitool to check that the orders to secretly continue the scraped project, building the upgraded Normandy, hadn't been noticed by anyone outside of her group. All those on board were those that had joined her cell with the understanding that they were joining the crew of Commander Shepard. Finding such a large group that was loyal to Shepard, even though she had been missing for two years, was a stroke of luck. With this insular group helping to finish the ship, it had only been a small matter to use her authority to falsify the records for the ship's parts as being 'disposed', instead of being shipped here to make the vessel space worthy.
As she focused on the status reports of the ship to distract her from the growing itch for the injector, she had to admit that the ship's crew were quite disciplined. They focused on the navigational and engineering systems first, while only sketching out the basics for the crew compartments, making do with hot bunking and a singly operational shower. As the elevator door opened on the crew deck, she headed for her quarters, silently hoping that the information on the next location of Shepard's ship was accurate. She would finally be able to confront her nightmare and do the right thing.
AN: Thank you soooo much for being patient for this! I'm so, so sorry I didn't get around to finishing this for so long. Not a lot of action this time around, buuuut, we're still on Tuchanka, and (sniff) Grunt's growing up! (they grow up so fast these days...) ^^ So, I hope to have the next chapter up and read sooner this time, wish me luck!