7: Just Like Old Crimes

"Only one more..."

A shot rang out, the pistol scoring a perfect hit on the last remaining geth. A figure ran over to the synthetic as it crumpled to the ground, her omni-tool alight as she tried to establish a link with the dying AI's systems.

"C'mon, you bosh'tet. Yes!"

The Girl quickly copied the files before they could be deleted forever. "Nobody's gotten into a geth's memory core in years," she muttered as she looked through the surviving data. "So much knowledge on the geth. Activities... New technologies... Even Tovo wouldn't be able to complain. I could-"

Her voice choked up as she remembered all the people she hadn't seen in four years.

Quala'Oro.

Kal'Reegar.

Shala'Raan.

Father.

"I could finally complete my Pilgrimage."

"That will not help your people."

The Girl froze, her omni-tool powering off on its own accord just before she could play back an audio recording that had caught her eye.

The one that should have proven Saren Arterius was a traitor to the Council.

"Wait, that's not what happened on Eden Pr-"

To her horror, the geth reactivated, reaching an arm out to grab her throat. She held out her left hand, trying to overload its systems.

"Why isn't my omni-tool working?"

"You must put the Servants back in their place," the geth toned.

Her eyes widened as she struggled to get free. The landscape of Eden Prime began to melt away, replaced by darkness as the geth carried her toward its destination. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a mess of unintelligible beeps and static.

The geth looked at her. "It is what your people want most."

The Girl realized with horror that her sh'rayan had vanished, her form exposed to the air around her. She frantically turned her head, getting flashes of the room as she attempted to break the geth's hold. What she saw terrified her even more than her sudden lack of protection.

It was exactly like where they had found David Archer.

She screeched again, her words once more coming out as electronic gibberish. The geth ignored her, placing her in the middle of the room as electrical cables and instruments snaked themselves over her body and jammed into her skin.

"This is how the quarians would retake Rannoch."

The equipment around and within the Girl flared to life, coursing with energy and threatening to tear her apart. She cried out once more, her words finally making sense:

"Quiet, please make it stop!"

The geth's face began to contort itself, molding into that of John Shepard. The Shepard-geth's eyes glowed malevolently as it raised her mother's knife.

"And that is why you must die."

The blade flashed through the air.

"NOOOO!"

Thud

"Top o' the mornin' to you too, Tali."

"Whaa..." The quarian groggily breathed as her hand bumped into her visor. She looked around, seeing that she was in the crew quarters, sitting up in her bed.

"You're such a dick sometimes, Ken."

"Again with the feminine energy. I swear, it's like I'm an endangered species here."

Gabby ignored the other engineer as she made her way over to Tali's side. "Another one?"

"It's nothing, Gabby." She willed herself to stop shivering as she sat up more slowly. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Positive." The quarian tried her best to take a 'happy' stance as she got out of bed. "I need to go to the shuttle bay anyway, we should be close to Tuchanka by now."

"If you insist," the woman stated, allowing her to walk out the door. She didn't quite hush her voice enough to keep Tali from hearing a whisper meant for Ken: "I worry about her sometimes."

"Ya, me too. I'm sure she'd be sleepin' much better if she were dreaming about me."

Tali heard what sounded suspiciously like a redheaded engineer getting thumped on the back of his head.

"Any dream with you in it is bound to be a nightmare."

Jack can't be right... can she?

Miranda quietly sat in one corner of the shuttle, ignoring the conversations around her as she turned toward the window. Her eyes looked at the landscape of the planet below, but her mind didn't see rapidly-closing details of the planet Tuchanka.

What she did see was her father's face.

"Your training is complete, Miranda."

The Pupil trailed a few steps behind Henry Lawson as they strode down one of the many corridors in his estate. A pair of bodyguards escorted them down a wing toward their destination.

One that she hadn't been privy to.

"You're shrewd, powerful, full of drive, and have learned how to wield an empire. However, you have failed the final test."

Her heart began to race as she sized up the men around her. They were armed, yes, and sure to be as well-trained as her. Between their stature and her lack of a weapon, it was bound to be anything but an easy fight.

And that's without mentioning her father.

"I do have one more task for you."

The Pupil stopped behind the man as he opened a door, her mind derailed from her musings on being betrayed by the simple statement. The man waved her in, the room beyond filled with a soft light.

The room was spotless, the walls and floor an immaculate white that easily reflected the illumination from a simple lamp on a marble counter. A surgical tray sat next to a transparent isolation chamber, its small occupant barely visible from the doorway. As she stepped closer, the man continued speaking

"You do not have the vision needed as an heir, but perhaps you can find some here."

The Pupil came to a halt next to the surgical tray. From this spot, she was able to clearly see into the soundproof chamber as a child, likely a newborn, wailed from within.

"This is your sister: Oriana. I want you to teach her everything you know. To make sure that she will succeed where you have failed. That is your final task."

Teach?

All of her past teachers were either dead or missing.

The fact stuck in her head as she noticed her reflection in the spotless top of the surgical tray: the hardened jawline, the dark circles under her untrusting eyes, the professionally-maintained hairstyle.

She could see little of those in the child, whose unkempt hair rebelliously tangled in on itself over her scalp. The child momentarily stopped her bawling, noticing her new audience. A hand rose jerkily toward the Pupil, the slightest of smiles gracing the baby's pudgy face. One detail stood out to the young woman as the child mouthed out an inaudible babble:

Oriana had her eyes.

The Pupil leaned closer to the chamber, knowing then that she would never carry out her father's final order. She quietly spoke, making sure that the men by the door wouldn't pick up on a single syllable.

"I won't let him turn you into me."

"Touching down in thirty."

Glass's simple declaration brought Miranda out of her reminiscence. Around the shuttle's passenger area, she could see Garrus, Tali, and Jacob double-checking their weapons while Grunt paced restlessly across the small space.

She'll be fine, the officer thought as she rose to her feet.

Somehow, she didn't believe the words as much as she usually did.

"You look well for dead, Shepard. Should have known the Void couldn't hold you."

The Spectre laughed with the krogan as they shook hands, his mirth overpowering the feeling in his gut at the battlemaster's words. "Guess you really meant what you said about uniting the krogan, Wrex. Almost wouldn't have believed it before what happened on Virmire."

"It's a good thing we didn't have to kill each other then," the krogan said, a humorous glint in his eye as he held out his arms, indicating the large camp surrounding them. "You made the rise of clan Urdnot possible. Virmire was a turning point, and I've been able to open their eyes to the things we should have been doing." He paused to look at a krogan standing idly behind him, who was clearly irritated at Shepard's sudden entrance. "Though some of them have needed more than a little prying."

"We humans have a saying, 'Rome wasn't built in a day.' It looks like you've done well for yourself though."

The warrior gave a pleased grunt. "The empire that conquered half of your people's civilization at one point. I'm glad you understand. Destroying Saren's cure saved us from his manipulations. If not for that, the other clans wouldn't have seen the writing on the wall."

The krogan behind Wrex spoke up. "You've abandoned many traditions to get your way... Dangerous."

The clan leader's response was immediate, a powerful headbutt sending the other krogan to the ground.

"Speak when spoken to, Uvenk. I'll drag your clan to glory whether it likes it or not."

Wrex made his way over to a stone chair, sitting in it while motioning for Shepard and his squad to approach. "So Shepard, how's the Normandy?"

"Destroyed in a surprise attack. I ended up spaced."

The krogan chuckled. "Wouldn't know it by looking at you. The benefits of a redundant nervous system..."

The man raised his arm, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, humans don't have that."

"Oh, must've hurt like hell. But you've got a fine new ship. Even managed to fill it with some old faces, I see." He looked behind the human. "So Tali, what ship did you join?"

The quarian jumped. "The Neema. How did you know it was me?"

"You don't see purple on quarians that often. That and you're the only one I've known who would've been able to put up with Garrus and Shepard here." He smiled, his facial scars stretching as he made the gesture. "Still, I'm surprised that one's still working. Took a direct hit from a geth cruiser back when your people fled Rannoch, if memory serves."

"We do what we can with what we have," the quarian answered, her eyes settling on the floor.

"Why do you address this suit-rat so? Weaklings like her don't deserve your attention. Next thing I know, you're going to act like you're friends with a damned turian."

Wrex didn't bother to rise, his hand glowing purple as he Pushed the offending krogan off his feet. "This quarian has proven herself a better warrior than half of the whelps in your clan, Uvenk. You would do well to remain silent. And speaking of turians..." He turned toward the one in Shepard's party. "I see Garrus is sporting some new mementos. I'm sorry to say that our females are heavily guarded against intruders."

The turian's eyes flashed. "Good thing, too. Wouldn't want them attacking each other over a battle-scared veteran like me."

"How dare you jest about our women? Your scar was probably from some weak salarian or a damned cooking acci-"

This time, it was Shepard who knocked Uvenk off his feet with his own Push. "This turian survived a rocket blast to the face. Something many of the krogan I've fought would've succumbed to."

"Truer words have never been spoken," Wrex added with a laugh. "You always struck me as a stubborn one, Vakarian. Made you hard to kill, despite all those times we pulled each other's asses out of the fire. Then again, it takes a special kind of stubborn to take on half of Omega."

The turian nodded, then froze. John had the feeling that if he were human, his skin would've blanched. "What did you say?"

"Relax, Archangel. Anyone you see here who's claiming to be part of the Blood Pack is either dead, an idiot, or under my thumb," Wrex answered. "You'll have nothing to worry about from them here. Just stay away from Weyrloc territory and you won't have any problems."

The turian loosened up, a held breath coming out in a slow exhale. "Still, I'm surprised that you knew."

"I've seen the pictures. Only one turian I know with modified C-Sec armor that was that good of a marksman." He turned back toward the Spectre. "But I doubt Shepard came here just for the friendly talk. Especially if he brought along a krogan of his own."

John nodded, waving Grunt forward. "That's part of the reason we came. We think he has some sort of illness, but none of the doctors on our ship can figure out what's wrong with him."

Wrex stood up, eyeing the younger krogan inquisitively. He slowly circled around him, eventually sniffing at the air over Grunt. His eyes flashed, a low growl coming from his throat as he turned toward John. "If I didn't know you as well as I do, Shepard, you would be dead right now. We don't let aliens this close to our young."

"We came across him during a mission, while trying to find someone else."

The older krogan grunted, his gaze falling back to Shepard's squadmate. "What's your name, whelp? Didn't anyone tell you what's expected of you?"

"My name is Grunt. I was tank-bred by the warlord, Okeer. Distilled from the lines of Kredak, Moro, Shiag-"

"This thing is an abomination. It speaks of warlords, but is the offspring of a syringe."

Wrex ignored Uvenk's outburst this time, his face fixed in quiet contemplation. "Okeer is a very old name... A very hated name."

"He is dead," Grunt stated.

"Of course. How could he be alive if you're with Shepard?" The krogan turned back toward his stone throne, settling himself in the seat as he continued his pensive stare at the young warrior. "Hmm... A clone undertaking the Rite..."

Uvenk's eyes widened. "You're actually considering it?"

"More than that, Uvenk."

"This is too far!" the other krogan yelled, rushing away in an irritated huff. "Your clan may rule, but this thing is not krogan."

"Idiot," the old battlemaster stated.

"Couldn't agree more," Shepard admitted. "So what's wrong with him?"

"There's nothing wrong with him. He is becoming a full adult."

"So is this supposed to be a sort of adulthood ritual?" Jacob asked.

"Knowing the krogan, it likely involves a lot of killing," Miranda replied with a nod.

"Whatever," Wrex said with indifference. "I don't care what aliens call it. So, Grunt," he addressed the remaining krogan. "Do you wish to stand with Clan Urdnot?"

The younger krogan turned around, looking at the warriors milling about the Urdnot encampment. A low rumble emanated from his throat before he faced the clan leader.

"My blood demands this. It is what I was made for."

Wrex's face stretched once more into a wide grin.

"Good boy."

"Wow, Shepard. 'Name our target and it will die'? You've only been here an hour and you're already turning krogan on me."

"Not as much as I'd like. I probably shouldn't have headbutted Uvenk."

Garrus glanced toward the commander, his faceplates showing mock-surprise as they continued walking. "Krogan are hardheaded? What an amazing discovery! We've got to tell Mordin about this."

"You know, I could test it out on a turian, too... Just so he has a reference point."

"I'm flattered, but human blood and gore clash with my facepaint a bit too much." The turian gave a half-hearted laugh as he and the commander came to a stop in a nook, well out of earshot of the rest of the squad. Their grins faded as the Spectre cleared his throat.

"Garrus, about what happened on the collector ship-"

"I already know what you're going to say, Shepard," he snapped, more forcefully than he intended. "And I agree. I'm a damn threat to the squad if it happens again." He sighed, his vision settling on the ground in front of him. "I don't like it, but I'd have done the same thing in your position."

He felt a hand on his shoulder as the Spectre spoke. "I'm not benching you permanently, Garrus. It's just until we find Sidonis."

"And then we'll gut the bastard, just like Saleon." A hundred thoughts of exactly how he would do it flashed through the turian's mind as he spoke the words, none of them seeming harsh enough to atone for the deaths his former squad member had caused.

"We'll get him, Garrus. As soon as he rears his head. There's no Shepard without Vakarian, right?"

"Right," the turian breathed, some of the tension leaving his muscles. "We should get back. From the sound of it, you've got some stuff to kill."

"Yeah, but what about you? You're not going to break into Kasumi's bar, are you?"

"As much as I'd love a beer right now, I need to stay sober for what I'm gonna do."

"Let me guess: 'calibrations'."

They both let out a chuckle as they began to walk back to the group. "Well the collectors did mess with some systems before we jumped."

"I swear, you're almost as in love with that gun as Zaeed is with his old avenger."

"Hey, the thanix cannon gets me!" he retorted, sounding offended. "She even lets me party with other girls and doesn't get jealous."

"Only because your mantis can't kill a frigate in one shot."

"Exactly! That sort of connection is something special."

Shepard slowed to a stop, his gaze going vacant.

Here we go... "Thinking about her again?" Garrus asked, making a barely-subtle nod in the direction of the squad.

The human's face reddened, though he didn't give the surprised jump that the turian was hoping for. "Definitely not the thanix."

Garrus gave a mild grin at the reply. "Relax, we turians wrote the book on 'it's complicated' four centuries before you discovered electricity." He gestured with his arm, prompting the Spectre to resume walking. "You know, you could always try making a move," he added in a whisper. "A sparring match might do you some good."

The human gave a loud laugh. "How big is the betting pool now?"

"You wound me, Shepard. A good turian would only suggest that out of the good in his heart."

"A 'good turian' would have stayed at C-sec."

"Point," Garrus acknowledged as they came within hearing range of the rest of the squad. Heads began to turn their way as he continued, his voice louder than normal. "Still, we should shoot pyjacks together more often. It's almost as good as a round of Scoreboard."

"Scoreboard?" Grunt's voice carried more than a spoonful of interest.

Shepard's eyes flashed. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Garrus shrugged. "I guess I'm really not a good turian."

"It's a game," Shepard elaborated with a shake of his head. "Garrus' visor can track kills for individual squad members, so we can see who gets the most kills during a mission." Grunt was on the verge of drooling in anticipation. "BUT he's got some calibrations to do back on the Normandy, so we won't be able to play it today."

"Come on, Shepard. It's Grunt's big day." Garrus didn't bother to mask the smugness from his voice. "I'm sure Tali's suit could adapt the program."

"Well... with a few adjustments... it could, yes..." the quarian shyly replied. Her hands met each other as her voice trailed off.

"Then it's settled!" the turian stated as he sent her the program with his omni-tool. "You're playing Scoreboard during Grunt's Rite."

"Just don't keep track of my kills, Tali," Shepard murmured, one hand over his face. "Somehow, I think I already know what's going to happen."

"Bold words, Battlemaster," Grunt growled as he walked away. "But I'm not going to let you win that easily."

Garrus stifled a laugh as the Cerberus agents shrugged and began to make their way toward the parked tomkah. They really don't know...

Shepard caught his eye, discreetly moving toward the turian while Tali worked with her omni-tool. "I'm not going to protect you when she beats him," he said in a hushed voice.

The turian shrugged. "Well, you or Grunt could win... But I'd place my bet on 'double-lightning strikes' or whatever it was Kaidan called it on Feros."

"You're counting on it, aren't you?"

"I'm surprised you aren't. That girl almost had a jaded, fourteen-hundred-year-old krogan battlemaster believing in divine intervention."

"Garrus..."

"Look at it this way: if she wins... again, she can get congratulated personally by her captain."

The human arched an eyebrow, the gears clearly spinning in his head. "I don't remember asking for a wingman."

"I'm Archangel, Shepard," he said with a parting nod. "I've gotta do something to keep my nickname."

Intruders? Anger. Mine!

Shepard returned to his own mind while the final klixen dropped to the ground. He shook himself as the purple aura around him faded; even with the animal's energy, he still felt drained.

And that was only the second wave.

"What's the score?" came a loud bellow as Grunt half-stomped, half ran toward Tali. "Who's leading?"

At least he's having fun.

"John's tied with you at twenty-eight kills, followed by Jacob with twenty-six."

The Spectre raised an eyebrow. "I thought I said I wasn't playing?"

Her eyes flashed toward him, then looked away just as quickly when she noticed the klixen. The quarian's reply was barely above a whisper. "And I thought you weren't going to do any Reaving."

Guilt clawed at the commander's chest at her words. However, he was spared his shame when Miranda came to his rescue. "They're non-sentient, Tali. They don't have much of a mind to begin with."

Of course, Miranda would know. He had only mentioned his newfound abilities to Garrus and Tali so far, but it didn't surprise him that the Cerberus officer would find out from one of the listening devices he had undoubtedly missed.

Jacob, on the other hand, looked slightly confused. "You mean that thing you did to those husks back on the collector ship?"

"Tell you what, Jacob: you let me in on your training regimen, and I'll tell you anything you want about it." The operative had shown time and again that he knew his own limits; John had never seen Jacob suffer from biotic burnout like him. He'd need to boost his own stamina to keep himself from relying on Reaving like he had on the collector ship.

Especially when I'm carrying this thing around, he thought with a glance at his revenant. The forty-kilo weapon gleamed in the sun, a new stabilizer unit adorning its underside.

The soldier nodded. "Deal. We should probably activate the keystone again."

Grunt practically jumped with glee as he raced toward the gigantic elevator. He hit a switch on it, causing a voice to ring out across the courtyard as a massive cylindrical object was lifted into the air.

Now, all krogan bear the genophage: our reward, our curse. It is a fight where the only goal is survival.

The weight crashed to the ground, sending a tremor through the earth around them.

"Feel that? Everything is shaking."

The quakes refused to die away, steadily gaining in energy.

No, they wouldn't... would they?

He met the quarian's eyes, the bright orbs widening behind her visor as she came to the same conclusion he had.

"Scatter!" he yelled, sprinting away from the keystone's activation switch. Immediately after, a cloud of dust rose out of the ground with a mighty roar. A pair of gigantic spikes embedded themselves in the concrete walkway they had been standing on, dragging a large block of it deep into the soil.

"Status? Everyone check in!" he yelled as adrenaline blocked out his fatigue.

"I'm okay, John."

"Jacob and I are fine, Commander."

"What the hell was that thing?" Jacob asked.

"A worthy opponent," Grunt growled in answer as the ground began to shake once more. A cloud of dust was kicked up just under a hundred meters away from them as a primal shriek split the air around them. Inside the cloud, he could see the silhouette of the last thing he wanted to fight without vehicle support.

The assailant towered over them, the top of its head half a dozen stories above the ground. Its segmented body resembled that of a centipede, with several gigantic claws extending along its sides. A much larger set of claws sprouted from the sides of its face like gigantic antennae, each of which looked large and sharp enough to impale a frigate. Its eyes, a set of four slits, glared at them with an insatiable hunger as its head reared back. Shepard found his gaze drawn to the thing's gullet, a cavernous opening that could have easily fit the tomkah they had rode in on with room to spare. Its luminous blue tongue drew back into its mouth as a quartet of flaps covered the opening.

"Thresher maw!" Miranda yelled, right as it spat a glob of acid at the group.

The squad dove away, the attack hitting the ground harmlessly as they brought their weapons to bear. It targeted Shepard next, spitting another deadly projectile his way as he took cover behind a metal tower, the remains of some long-destroyed building's foundation.

Evidently, whatever trials time had brought down the building in the past hadn't included a direct shot of thresher maw venom.

"Shit," Shepard swore as the tower crashed down, narrowly missing both him and Tali. The quarian ignored the distraction, her pistol barking as she voiced her displeasure at the situation.

"I wish we still had the Mako!"

John fired another burst at the beast as he backpedaled, looking for some more solid cover. "I thought you didn't like my driving."

"The giant cannon made up for it," the quarian answered.

John continued to shoot at the monster as Joker's voice echoed through his communicator.

"That's what she said."

Shepard dove, narrowly avoiding a glob of acid aimed at him. The ground fizzled and frothed where the attack landed.

"Joker, get off this channel!" he barked, unleashing a barrage of fire from his machine gun. Whatever reply the pilot made was drowned out by a roar from the maw as it wriggled its way back underground.

And then it was quiet.

Where the hell is it?

Shepard made a quick hand signal, telling the squad to fan out and keep their eyes peeled. He took a few tentative steps forward.

And then he felt it.

A rumble that shook his bones like nothing had before.

It was close.

Without thinking, the man Charged away. Not a moment too soon, it appeared, as the giant worm burst through the ground where he had been moments before. Shots pinged harmlessly off its hide as its head snaked back, its four gigantic eyes fixed on John.

Its acid wouldn't miss from that range.

The man's machine gun barked in defiance, incendiary tracers marking a line up the beast's body as he ignored the weapon's jarring recoil. The fire reached its partially-open mouth just as it leaned forward.

And screeched in pain.

What the- The Spectre barely had time to dodge as the maw dove forward, burying its head in the ground.

I wonder...

He drew his pistol, aiming for the beast's mouth as it pulled itself out of the ground. He squeezed the trigger, earning another unearthly scream before the maw retreated back underground. It no longer tried to hide its actions, rocks flying through the air as the earth above it was forced upward in a winding path toward Jacob. The biotic was tossed to the ground as it burst forth once more.

"Everyone, aim at its tongue!" Shepard yelled, popping off a few shots in hopes of distracting the monster.

"Of course... Target the big, glowing weak point for MASSIVE DAMAGE! Good idea, Commander."

"Joker, get the hell off the line!"

"Just making sure everyone got the memo, Commander."

Before John could spout a few choice profanities at the pilot, Tali's voice was heard.

"You know, Zaeed showed me this human game called arm wrestling. Maybe you'd like to play, Joker?"

There was a long pause over the line as the maw lunged at Miranda. The biotic managed to evade the attack, Throwing a large rock in its face to cover her escape. Jacob was back on his feet, firing a few rounds at the beast's head and drawing its attention back on himself.

"Shutting up now. Over and out."

Man, I love that girl.

By that time, the thresher maw had completely given up on its acid attacks. Rather than expose itself, it had taken to trying to swallow them whole. While it had been unsuccessful so far, the repeated slamming kept them from landing any more solid hits. Shepard barely had time to draw a bead on the thing's head between its lunging attacks.

And he wasn't the only one.

"He'll just tire us out if this keeps up!" Miranda yelled as Tali dodged an attack by distracting it with Chiktikka. "We need a plan, Commander."

"I'm all ears, Miranda," he called as he Charged away from another lunge.

"I've got one."

The commander looked toward Grunt, who looked like something straight from an action holo. The krogan hefted his vindicator in his left hand, firing wildly at the thresher maw. His right hand held a claymore shotgun salvaged from somewhere on the battlefield, its vents glowing with overcharged energy.

The creature turned its attention to the krogan, lunging at the new threat.

Grunt laughed, tossing aside the assault rifle and holding the shotgun properly.

"I AM KROGAN!"

A miniature star was visible for a split second as the beast's mouth closed around him, the only evidence that the krogan had successfully fired a carnage blast from his weapon.

The results were messy.

The thresher maw's head erupted in ribbons of gore and venom, its mildly caustic flesh landing in patches all around the area. Its body gave a great heave before crashing unceremoniously, the many appendages twitching as it died.

"Grunt?"

The krogan slowly climbed to his feet, giving a toothy grin as he fetched his discarded assault rifle. "Now that was a good fight."

Shepard nodded, his eyes traveling over the many spots where the krogan's armor appeared to have melted. Orange trails of blood were visible where the thresher maw's acid had burned straight through. The scales on one of his arms were sizzling slightly as he flexed the limb, though it appeared to be only a minor annoyance to the krogan. John couldn't help but notice that the warrior was walking with a slight limp. "Are you okay?"

"I've still got some fight left in me, Battlemaster." His eyes narrowed as he focused on something behind the human. "And it looks like I just might need it."

Shepard turned, noticing that a group of krogan was walking toward them. At the head of the group was Uvenk, who only had eyes for Grunt.

"You live, and you brought down the thresher maw. No one has done that since Urdnot Wrex, himself."

"My krantt gave me strength beyond my genes," Grunt growled as he straightened up. "Which are damned good."

The Gatatog clan leader nodded slightly, deep in thought. "I wonder... You say Okeer was the only one who created you, without alien meddling?"

Miranda narrowed her eyes at the krogan distastefully. "You're hiding something, Uvenk. What're you getting at?"

Uvenk looked annoyed by her question, as if his reason should be obvious. "A warrior like Grunt will command great strength, enough to make his less-than-desirable origins tolerable."

"What?" Grunt's voice was a menacing growl.

If the krogan leader heard the threat in his tone, he ignored it. "Your existence is a mistake, but your potential could tip the balance of power within the clans. You could be accepted into our clan, with restrictions."

Shepard found himself echoing his ally's growl as Uvenk walked right up to Grunt, seemingly getting a closer look at the tank-born warrior.

"You would not be allowed to breed, of course, or serve on an alien ship. But you would carry the proud name of Clan Gatatog."

"That's enough," Shepard growled. "If I know Grunt, your answer's coming in the form of a bullet."

"You are not krogan," Uvenk scoffed. He turned to face Grunt again, his dark eyes staring deep into the tank-born's blue ones. "This human cannot truly know our ways. He cannot speak for what he doesn't know. But what say you, Grunt? Ready to join an honorable clan?"

Surprisingly, the krogan didn't raise his newly-acquired shotgun. Nor did he give the clan leader a headbutt or a swift punch. Not even a growl escaped his lips.

On the contrary, Grunt was laughing.

He whispered something as his guffaws died down, his words lost on the commander.

Evidently, Uvenk didn't catch them either. "What was that?" he asked, stepping closer.

"I said, 'He does know me.'"

Almost faster than Shepard's eyes could track, the tank-born's knee rose and delivered a dirty blow to the clan leader, causing him to lean forward. The krogan bodyguards began to reach for their weapons while the Spectre wrapped his hand around his phalanx pistol. Before any of them could fire, however, Grunt laid his hands on the clan leader.

One rested on the chestplate of Uvenk's armor, holding him in place.

The other gripped the edge of the krogan's bony crest, his claws digging into Uvenk's flesh.

John's eyes widened. His mind played back to a conversation he'd had with Zaeed back when the merc had joined the Normandy.

"If you get a knife stuck in there just right-"

"Raaaaaaaaugh!"

Uvenk's bloodcurdling scream shocked everyone to a standstill. Grunt delivered a headbutt to the wounded krogan before tossing his severed crest to the ground. He raised his shotgun, firing at the nearest of the bodyguards.

Grunt's shot was the drop that broke the floodgates. Within the next two seconds, the rest of Shepard's squad had raised and fired their own weapons, making short work of the other shellshocked Gatatog krogan.

The tank-born then turned his attention back to the broken leader at his feet, fury in his eyes.

"You... you dare?" Uvenk mumbled weakly.

"You spat on my father's name. On Shepard's name. On the names of my krantt. You opposed me until you saw my strength, then tried to parade me as a trophy. You speak of honor, Uvenk, but I see none from your actions." He raised his shotgun, pressing the barrel against Uvenk's head.

"So yes, I dare."

The sound Grunt's final shotgun blast echoed through the courtyard as the squad finally allowed themselves to relax. Jacob quickly sat down, motioning for medigel. Miranda bent down and examined his leg, uttering a quiet curse as she looked at his injury.

"Christ, Jacob. You shouldn't be walking with a sprain that bad."

The man winced as she tested his ankle. "Kinda hard not to when something's trying to swallow you whole."

"At least it wasn't as stupid as that stunt Uvenk pulled," Shepard added, leaning against one of the only metal towers that hadn't been obliterated by the thresher maw. "Why he thought he could take us on after killing that, I will never know."

"His mistake. Doesn't matter now. So what's the final score?" Grunt asked.

Tali activated the display on her omni-tool. "Grunt had thirty-one kills over John's thirty." She paused to wait for the krogan's inevitable roar of triumph to end before continuing. "I had twenty-seven kills."

Wow, I guess Tali finally lost a round, Shepard thought as the quarian continued to read off the results. Wait until Garrus hears this.

"Jacob had twenty-six, Miranda had twenty-thr... That can't be right."

Jacob nodded, indicating two krogan that had entry wounds in their throat and face, respectively. "It's okay, Shepard was quicker on the draw back there. He took both of those kills fair and square."

"No, that's not what I meant."

"What is it?" Miranda queried, looking up from the splint she had been making for Jacob's ankle.

"It says there's another squad member: Combat Drone TZNR314, five kills."

John scanned the surroundings, wary. "Weird, we didn't have any outside help."

"Actually... that's Chiktikka's designation."

A wave of surprise passed across the squad members' faces as they did the math. John turned away from the others so they wouldn't see the smirk crossing his features.

And there's the divine intervention Garrus mentioned.

Grunt, on the other hand, was in disbelief. His voice was subdued, like that of a human child who had just found out their favorite pet had run away.

"So that means..."

To: Mordin Solus

From: [Sender ID Redacted, Salarian Tasks Group Authority 4752XJ-38]

It has come to our attention that Maelon Heplorn has been seen in Weyrloc territory near one of the clan's strongholds. He has been out of contact with other operatives for some time, and the Weyrloc clan has been far more hostile in their views toward other sapient species than Urdnot.

It is our belief that he is being held there under duress, due to your previous work with him on [REDACTED]. We saw that the Normandy entered Tuchanka orbit on [REDACTED] and believed that you would be interested in extracting him.

We don't need to remind you what it would mean if they undid our work.

Mordin had memorized the message before he had even reached the elevator, let alone asking a now-clearly-bothered Glass to take him down to Tuchanka's surface right after bringing Garrus back aboard. Even so, he still found himself rereading it during the shuttle ride, searching for something he had missed.

He still knew that the act was futile.

The salarian took a deep breath, though he remained upright in the copilot's chair. Ransom unlikely, Maelon came from impoverished family. STG operations also strictly "black ops", would not bargain with krogan for single life. Retribution for actions? No, would have sought others from project as well. Assistants, family, friends. Would have been mentioned in message, likely have found out from own family first. Must contact nephew after mission. Has been too long.

He nodded as the shuttle descended into what had once been a massive water supply system, coming to a stop in a converted hangar. Only logical conclusion to cure genophage, use of Maelon's knowledge from work with me on modifications. Hope it is not too late.

Mordin sprang out of the shuttle at the thought, already running when a trio of krogan barred his way.

"Halt, salarian!" The leader of the group sneered as he said the last word. "What is your purpose here?"

Already raising weapons. Distrust evident. Unnecessary.

But not entirely undeserved.

"Am part of Shepard's crew. Urgent matter, need to find him now."

The warriors paused, their guns slowly lowering as they looked at him with surprise. One spoke from the back of the group.

"The one that killed a thresher maw with his tank-born?"

Interesting development. Grunt's capabilities far beyond expectations, even with squad assistance.

The leader silenced his outspoken ally with a glare as he addressed the salarian. "You may pass. He will be speaking with the clan leader. Don't try anything funny along the way, salarian."

"Understood," he responded, ignoring the veiled threat as he passed by them. Mordin passed through a tunnel, emerging into a large, open space full of krogan. Several of them stiffened as he stepped forward. Must find Shepard quickly. Likely to face aggression if I linger-

"Ha! And I thought she only won so often because we were fighting geth all the time!"

"This is crap! She must have tampered with the program."

"Her combat drone, her kills. And trust me, that quarian's got a quad, but she's got too much honor to try cheating a krogan out of a killing competition. Am I right, Tali?"

A hushed mumble and an irritated growl were heard before the first voice spoke up again. "Relax, Urdnot Grunt, you still got the biggest kill of the day. It's been centuries since we've had a proper MAW FEAST!" A few cheers could be heard as the speaker bellowed the last two words, loud enough to echo around the room.

Tali'Zorah and Grunt? Intriguing... 'Urdnot' title indicates clan acceptance. Likely his mission was successful. Commander must be there with them.

Mordin ignored the stares he got from the surrounding krogan as he approached the leader's pedestal. The bodyguard blocking his path was almost too busy cheering to notice the salarian before he could move to the commander's side.

Almost, the salarian thought as the guard held out an arm, a threatening growl rumbling from his throat.

Tali quietly huddled next to Miranda as Mordin and Shepard slid up to the other side of the door. The Spectre gave a slight nod toward her as he held up three fingers.

Two.

One.

As the last finger joined the others in his fist, the quarian slammed the interface on the door. It slid open with a slight whirr as they rushed in, guns drawn-

Empty.

Tali relaxed as John gave the all clear. She calmly aimed it at the floor as they made their way to the next doorway. Where are all the krogan?

Outside of the Weyrloc-held hospital, they had fought through a couple dozen soldiers: vorcha, varren, and a few krogan warriors. The Blood Pack had pulled out all the stops in their attempts to keep them out of the building.

Inside, however, was another story.

Nervousness, anticipation, an adrenaline rush, the almost-disappointed cooldown, the mounting tension. The progression felt routine to Tali as they opened another door, again finding the room vacant.

That's the eighth one, she thought with increasing apprehension. They moved to the last doorway in the hall, which was directly across from an elevator. With a nod from Shepard, the squad breached the room.

A single krogan sat in the center of the floor, his arms wrapped around his knees. A pile of refuse sat unattended in a corner. His unfocused eyes passed over the foursome. "You're not Blood Pack?"

"Hold your fire," John ordered. He motioned to Tali and Miranda with a quick wave of his hand as he approached the lone krogan occupant. "What happened to you?"

"I'm an Urdnot scout. The Weyrloc killed my partner, got me, brought me here."

The two women took their leave and stood by to watch the elevator. It wouldn't do to have John get ambushed while we're here.

"I take it that wasn't the first time you won at Scoreboard."

The operative's statement caught Tali off-guard. She never tried to talk to me before now.

"Who wants to know?"

"I was just curious. The dossier didn't mention much about your non-tech capabilities."

Figures. She just wants to know what I can do for the mission.

"It was luck, mostly. A hacked geth surprising its squad here, a fortunate overload there... Most of Chiktikka's kills just now were from when it detonated in the middle of a varren pack. And like Wrex said, we were fighting geth most of the time back then. I had an advantage."

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "Still, most people don't beat krogan in kill competitions that often."

"I thought so too," the quarian admitted. "Garrus struck me as the sort of guy who might try that sort of thing to make me interested, but..."

"But?"

"I never found anything suspicious in the programming. Even checked it again when I adapted it for the suit earlier today. Wrex and John still won a fair amount of times when I wasn't on the ground team, and I did tie with Wrex when we went to Noveria, but-"

"You?" Shepard's voice boomed from the next room. "I said a badass, not some scout whining like a quarian with a tummy ache!"

Tali did a double-take. "What? Did he just-? I can't- I'm standing right here!" she sputtered.

The krogan, apparently, was too focused on Shepard to notice. He climbed unsteadily to his feet. "I'm up, and I'm going to the female camp!"

"Damn right, you are," the Spectre said. "Now get back there and show them what you're worth. Go, go!"

The scout gave a final roar as he trudged away. Tali made a move toward the commander, but Miranda spoke before she could do more than glare at him.

"We should check the medical equipment in these rooms. Maybe there's something that we can use."

"Unlikely to find data pertinent to mission. Would have seen Maelon. Still, could find something to help scout. Good idea, in case of withdrawal, poisoning. Unknown side effects."

"Alright," John agreed. "We'll do a quick check and take the elevator." The Spectre flashed Tali a grin as he walked by her.

He doesn't know I heard him.

The quarian followed the rest as they entered an exam room that had been cleared earlier. A form was covered by a sheet on an exam table, the nearby computers still active. Mordin took a quick look under the covering.

"Dead krogan. Female. Tumors indicate experimentation. No restraint marks. Volunteer." The salarian looked toward Shepard and smoothed the tarp where he had disturbed it. "Sterile Weyrloc female willing to risk procedures. Hoped for cure. Pointless. Pointless waste of life."

"I didn't expect you to be concerned about the sight of a dead krogan," the human responded.

As their voices began to rise, Tali felt a nudge to her arm. Miranda nodded toward the doorway and Tali took the hint.

They need to work this out. I'll get John back later.

"Sounds like Shepard's very opinionated on the subject," the human said as the door cut off the argument going on behind her.

Great, more probing for intel. "He thinks the genophage was a mistake, but I'm sure you already knew that, Miranda."

"Still, if he wants to find a cure, Cerberus has capable scientists-"

"If he even got anything on the experiment, I wouldn't steal it for you."

Miranda's eyes flashed. "Just consider it, Tali. You could be doing a huge favor to him. Don't you want to pay him back for helping with your pilgrimage? Or perhaps for what you did to him on Haest-"

"That's none of your damn business!" The quarian huffed, her finger jammed in the woman's chest. She noticed that Miranda's biotics were flaring up, but the human hadn't attacked her.

Yet.

Tali grudgingly turned away from her. "I trust John and his judgement more than anything. But I will never trust Cerberus."

"This is bigger than humanity alone, Tali. We're more than capable of doing the right-"

"You didn't see Toombs and Kahoku," the quarian interrupted. "And that's without even mentioning what happened to the Idenna. This conversation is over."

An awkward silence settled between them after that. To Miranda's credit, Tali couldn't tell if her last words had any effect on the officer's resolve. The quarian was grateful when John and Mordin finally emerged from the exam room, moving to the elevator. The Spectre hit the down button, and some music began to play from an unseen speaker.

Haven't I heard that song before?

"Curious. Have had chances to work with quarians before. Unique situation due to immune system. Suits a marvel of technology. Always wondered where research would be focused if not for immunodeficiency and geth uprising."

Not again. "Can we talk about this later?"

"Of course, more time on Normandy. Less chance of sudden death by gunshot." The salarian began to hum to himself as the elevator continued its slow crawl.

"I take it Tali doesn't like elevators," Miranda murmured.

John laughed aloud. "That's an understatement."

Yes, I'm definitely going to get him back.

Before she could think of something properly embarrassing to mention about him, the elevator came to a stop. They walked out into a large storage area.

A group of krogan were already waiting.

"I am the speaker for Clan Weyrloc, offworlders. You have shed our blood. By rights, you should be dead already. But Weyrloc Guld, the chief of chiefs, has ordered that you be given leave to flee and spread the message of our coming." The leader of the group was evidently fond of hearing his own voice.

Shepard, however, didn't seem to be impressed.

"If I flee, I might trip over the dozen krogan I killed to get here. I think I'll take my chances."

Tali had to fight back the laughter that threatened to overcome her at his words. From the expression on Miranda's face, she wasn't the only one.

"You killed our youngest and weakest, human. They were not worthy of remaining near our glorious work. Inside, you will find only hardened Blood Pack veterans. Tempered by savagery and war, and dedicated to one goal."

Is this krogan for real? Tali found her mind wandering as the clanspeaker continued to threaten them. At least he's dedicated. John's voice brought her back to earth.

"Half the galaxy sees the krogan as victims. If you start a war, you'll lose their support."

"We have the Blood Pack. We have the salarian. When our clan numbers in the millions, we will not need support." The krogan began to pace as he rambled on about how they would bring down the other clans and enslave the rest of the galaxy.

Tali could only shake her head.

She looked to the side, and noted that Miranda also had a look of displeasure etched into her features. The two of them shared a nod, then looked at Shepard. The man had done well at hiding his own annoyance, but it was clear his patience was wearing thin. The two caught his attention with their expressions, and he nodded.

He drew his pistol. "You talk too much."

The Spectre fired a single shot. The krogan flinched, but began to laugh as he noticed that he was unscathed.

"The human cannot hit a simple target!"

Only then did they hear the hissing. The clanspeaker looked down, seeing a gas tank under the walkway he was standing on. Tali could just make out the telltale shimmer of a leak.

Shepard fired again.

Blessed beyond measure.

A leader to be reckoned with.

Future savior of his species.

The harbinger of vengeance.

The krogan with a destiny.

Those words had defined Guld's rise to power over the past century. Though first said by others, he had begun to see others flock to him as the rumors had spread. After siring two children, keeping Urdnot at bay during their undeclared war of wills, and becoming lucky enough to meet a salarian who was both willing and able to find a cure for the genophage that had crippled his people for a millennium, he found it difficult to argue with the praises lavished upon him.

Those beliefs were shattered as the screams of his son echoed from a floor above.

It was bad enough that his daughter, Trikala, had given her life in the name of the salarian's research less than a day before. They both had known the risks then.

Hearing Kark, the Voice of Clan Weyrloc, yelling in pain was too much for the grieving father.

He wanted blood, and lots of it.

"I need time to make backups of the data," the salarian complained. "We should evacuate, set up somewh-"

"No!" the chief barked. "Don't stop working, Maelon, or you'll find you won't be able to start again." He fed a thermal clip into his shotgun, preparing an overcharged carnage blast to emphasize his point.

The whine of the weapon silenced the scientist. "Understood."

Guld allowed the alien to continue typing at his computer as he addressed his squad. "These intruders are an insult, to both our clan and our people. We cannot allow this work to be stopped. We're going upstairs to get Trikala. If anything happens to get in our way, we'll leave them to rot in Aralakh's unforgiving gaze."

He almost smiled as the other krogan gave a roar of approval before filing out the door. Even though the battlemaster lacked his son's natural charisma, he was heartened that those he commanded still followed him after the desperate measures the experiments had taken.

They follow me because I am destined for victory. I will not fall.

Heartened by his thoughts, he followed the half-dozen warriors that formed his personal krantt out of the room. They charged up the stairs and into the atrium beyond. A small network of walkways ringed the walls, half of which were blocked off by rubble. They ignored it, however, going up the well-worn path to the upper level. His people were already engaging the intruders as he reached the top of the staircase. He could see the quartet: two humans, a quarian, and a salarian of their own.

Figures that they'd send the STG to shut us down.

However, he noticed a fifth figure just beyond the doorway that the aliens had taken cover behind.

A charred corpse that was still smoking.

Kark...

He could feel the primal roar as it escaped his gullet. He focused on the salarian, preparing a Warp.

Damn them all!

A small blast from his left sent one of his warriors plummeting over the edge of the walkway. Another succumbed to a second explosion as a generator detonated right next to him. Guld unleashed his biotic attack, though it struck a column as the salarian dived into cover. He felt in some part of his mind that he was hit with a Warp, himself, though it lacked the furious bite he had grown to associate with the biotic power.

We must stop them!

Guld trudged onward, launching the overcharged shot from his shotgun at one of the humans. The alien staggered, a near miss as the shot exploded on the wall behind him. It didn't stop the man, who leveled his pistol at the head of a charging krogan. The clan leader heard a scream from behind him as a wave of heat flared up behind him, the walls in front suddenly covered by dancing shadows as flames licked at his heels.

I must stop them!

He felt a shock on his left arm, then batted it in a wide arc. The krogan struck something that erupted, his hearing suddenly overloading from a wave of pressure. He attempted to right his grip on the shotgun, holding it with both arms to reduce the recoil.

However, his left limb didn't respond.

Guld raised the weapon defiantly, firing it one-handed as a biotic Shockwave traveled down the walkway. He mustered enough of a biotic barrier to shield himself from the blast, though he could see another of his squad being staggered and finished off by the quarian's shotgun. He began to advance again as he felt an icy chill race up one of his legs. The quartet of aliens stepped out of cover as the male human began to glow blue.

It is my destiny!

His sense of orientation was lost as Guld was Lifted off his feet. The krogan squirmed, trying to find the intruders that had dared to hinder his work. He finally succeeded, managing to look the human in the eye as the alien's face molded into some expression he couldn't quite recognize.

Respect?

Sorrow?

Pity?

Guld wasn't able to find out the answer before the human's biotic aura faded. He tumbled in empty space, his battered form helpless as gravity took over. As vertigo shocked him out of his blood rage, all thoughts of destiny vacated his mind.

He had failed.

His clan's warriors were decimated.

The aliens would stop Maelon's research.

And now I follow my children into the Void.

As the ground rushed to meet him, he found a hint of solace in the thought.

Mission report 010: Lazarus Cell

From: Operative Miranda Lawson

To: The Illusive Man

Illusive Man,

The trip to Tuchanka has successfully resolved our issues with Grunt's aggression. He has been accepted into Clan Urdnot, though I do not expect any conflicts of interest to arise due to the clan leader's familiarity with Shepard. Operative Taylor was injured in the process of the krogan's maturity ritual, but is expected to recover quickly.

We also discovered that a previous associate of Doctor Solus had been willingly performing experiments geared toward finding a genophage cure for Clan Weyrloc. The squad infiltrated a Weyrloc stronghold and neutralized the threats it posed. While Shepard convinced the doctor to spare his assistant, Mordin's STG ties should make the assistant a non-issue. All local copies of the experiment data were wiped, though Mordin kept a copy. Attempts to procure a copy of the data for Cerberus have been

Miranda paused, unsure how to finish the statement. Somehow, declaring that she had completely failed at catching Mordin unaware sounded like a bad idea to her.

Damn one-hour salarian sleep cycles, she cursed.

The officer exhaled, trying to will herself to relax. True, she could have been spending her time planetside at the party being thrown in Grunt's honor, but she didn't give that option a second thought.

Besides, she thought as she saved the draft of her message, I still have time to get the data.

She opened up the surveillance program on her computer, selecting one of the cameras she'd placed in the tech lab during the salarian's breakfast break.

Her screen showed only static.

Clever. He won't have found this one though.

Static.

What about the one with the built-in heat sink?

Static.

Not again... Maybe the audiorecorder on his coffee mug? Miranda was practically pleading with herself as she switched the feed.

Static.

That's it! I didn't want to resort to the one with the cloaking field, but...

An image resolved on the screen, though she was puzzled by what it showed.

I didn't place that one facing a wall.

Miranda heard a knock at her door. "Enter," she stated without looking up. Surprisingly, the picture on her computer showed activity. The wall on the screen slid away, revealing a human woman sitting at a desk.

Her desk.

"Wished to return bug. Aware that Fenrix Twelve series is particularly expensive. Rare materials, experimental tech. Better uses for mission funding."

Why am I not surprised? the operative asked herself as she faced the doorway. There, sure enough, was Mordin with the mentioned recording device in hand.

"Your concern is noted, Mordin," she responded with an air of disappointment as he handed over the bug. "It appears I've underestimated your perceptiveness once again."

The salarian nodded, but appeared more amused than offended at her admission of spying. "Neither the first nor the last. Found multiple trackers from STG, Shadow Broker, Alliance, Turian Heirarchy, Eclipse after stops on Illium and Citadel."

Miranda's blood pressure spiked as she jumped out of her seat. "Why wasn't I informed?"

"Concern understandable, but not imminent problem. Made EDI, Tali'Zorah aware of breaches. Cooperated surprisingly well with common goal in mind. May have pointed out a few Cerberus devices missed in engineering. Quarian was attentive student. Quick learner." He chuckled to himself as he finished the statement.

The displeasure didn't entirely drain from the woman's face as she sat back down. "I take it you've already sent Maelon's data to the STG."

To her surprise, he gave a slight shake of his head. "Haven't. Not planning to. STG focused on salarian interests." His eyes fixed on her with a hint of hostility. "Cerberus focused on human interests. Irresponsible to give either data from modified krogan genophage."

Miranda ignored the blow to the gut as she arched an eyebrow. "You seemed so adamant about the genophage earlier. I'm surprised you didn't want to just destroy it."

The doctor sighed, his accusatory gaze faltering. "New data, new krogan societal situation. Requires new analysis. Modifications right choice at the time, but... Unsure for now. Would give to Commander, but can't trust Alliance if captured."

"And you can be trusted to know what's best for the krogan?" the Cerberus operative inquired. Maybe I can get him to doubt himself.

"Unique experiences. Needed to see, gain personal stake. Getting old, open to possibility if krogan peaceful under Wrex. Unsure, but nevertheless... My responsibility." The salarian took a deep breath as he made for the door.

"What if you get it wrong?"

Mordin paused, then resumed his stride. "What if someone else got it wrong?"

What if they did?

Miranda contemplated his statement for several seconds before mentally kicking herself. "So much for second chances."

She turned back to her computer, once again wondering how best to put her situation into words as the unfinished draft opened on-screen.

"Is this seat taken?"

Tali looked up from the rough-hewn stone table, surprised to see Shepard gesturing toward a boulder next to her, a drink in one hand.

"Oh John! I um... It's not really a seat, I mean... It's a rock... But not a taken rock! It's not like Kasumi's sitting on it. I think? Well rocks can't be 'taken' anyway. Silly concept... Rocks in a relationship. Keelah, I probably sound like Mordin right now." Her face heated up as her hands nervously rubbed each other. The grin spreading across the man's face wasn't helping either.

"Nah, he'd never call me by my first name for starters."

Say 'yes' already!

Tali took a deep breath, managing to stop the flood of words that had gushed from her mouth as she motioned toward the rock. "True."

The man fished something out of a pocket on his armor as he sat, his smile lingering as her hands continued rub together. She quietly cursed as she noticed, forcing them to her sides.

"Relax, Tali," the Spectre laughed. "I was just giving you your prize for winning at Scoreboard earlier."

"You didn't have to, John." She tried to be modest, but couldn't keep herself from leaning forward ever so slightly.

He never actually gave me anything for winning before.

"But I did," he said, bringing a brightly-colored tube into view. "I assume you know what this is."

The quarian nodded as she recognized it: a special brand of nutrient paste that had real fruit in it. Her eyes widened for a moment as he handed the tube to her. This particular brand was actually marketed toward turians, and was popular with privileged officers in their military.

And not without good reason.

"This is from Garrus's stash," she quietly observed, resisting the urge to hook it up to her suit right then and there.

"Well he did propose the match in the first place. Figured he wouldn't mind providing your winnings."

Tali chuckled as she pocketed the tube. "Beats what I had in mind for getting him back. He keeps talking about how I killed his chances at elevator-bonding."

John nodded, taking a sip from his glass.

Perfect.

"Which reminds me, is this just for the game or because you thought I had a 'tummy-ache'?"

The man snorted in surprise, some of his drink spraying unceremoniously from his nose. "You heard? That was... Didn't mean it," he sputtered between attempts to clean himself up.

She giggled as he continued his feeble attempt at an apology, trying to salvage what little composure he had left. "Don't worry, John. That totally made up for it."

"Good thing," he stated. "At least you didn't resort to the shotgun." Tali smiled as John cleared his throat, motioning toward her. "But what were you thinking about before you decided on that devious act of vengeance? Come on, you had been staring at the same boulder for almost ten minutes before I showed up," the man added when she looked at him inquisitively.

The quarian tensed at the last thing he had said. "So you've been watching me for the past ten minutes?"

"Well, I didn't have many options. Looking a krogan in the eye for more than two seconds evidently means 'I want to kill you', so I had to improvise."

Something in her wanted to call him a bosh'tet and ignore the question, but something else made her want to relax a bit on her admittedly uncomfortable seat.

That 'something else' was winning.

She allowed herself to slouch a little, then glanced back toward her right. Tali could see Grunt and Wrex in the midst of a group of krogan. They all laughed at some joke the elder warrior made as they attacked their ryncol and thresher steaks.

"I was just thinking... about the genophage..."

The man sounded puzzled. "I wasn't sure about Maelon's data myself, but if Mordin thinks it could come in handy someday-"

"That's not exactly what I meant," she breathed. "The krogan lost all hope when the genophage was created. They became mercs, bodyguards, assassins... They did everything they could to get away from Tuchanka. Wrex is one of the only ones who acknowledges that his race is dying and is actually trying to do something about it."

She turned back to him. A sad look sat on his face as he nodded his agreement. "I take it that isn't all of it though."

"Right," she muttered. "The turians and salarians weren't afraid of doing... that to the krogan all those years ago, all in the name of protecting themselves when the krogan attacked Palaven."

"Mm-hmm?" John quietly prompted her to continue, a pensive look on his face.

"I was wondering... why didn't the geth try something similar back when they rebelled? I mean, I'm glad they didn't, but they must have known it was an option..."

The question hung over their table like a heavy fog.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound morbid," the quarian finally said with a shake of her head. "But thanks for the food." She tried her best to sound cheerful as she changed the subject.

"It is a party, you know." John chuckled, in spite of the dark road their conversation had just left. "You should be enjoying yourself."

Tali's voice had regained some of its former mirth when she spoke again. "I would, but they don't have much that's dextro-friendly. And most of the drinks that are are radioactive."

"Nice try, but I do see a perfectly good dance floor."

Her face suddenly burned. "Um... Yes, but I... Well, I don't do that very often... Not that I don't know how to... But people can be judgmental. And I'm a quarian. It's not like anyone wants to see one dance, let alone actually-" The rest of her sentence caught in her throat.

He began to stand up.

Keelah, I'm such an idiot.

"Not that I meant it that way, John! I mean it's fine if you want to go... I just thought... But if you'd rather not sit here, I understand."

The human gestured with his hand. "Come on, I can tell you like this song."

What? she thought, realizing that her foot had been tapping to the rhythm of the drums near the dance floor. "But what about you? I saw you dance before back when we dropped by Flux to wait for Anderson. You weren't exactly... graceful."

To her surprise, he gave that infectious smirk as he reached for her hand. "Then that just means everybody will be too busy laughing at me to worry about your dancing. If that gets you to cheer up even a little bit, I'd say it was totally worth it."

He doesn't care about what happened.

In spite of herself, the quarian felt a smile grace her face. Maybe I could have... something with him after all. The thought emboldened her.

She took his hand, her three fingers slipping between his in a comfortable grip. His five fingers seemingly grouped themselves of their own accord.

Just for her.

Tali stood up and nodded.

"Oka-"

"And then I stabbed the guy in the chest. Twisted the thing in there for good measure, too."

Her blood turned to ice as a pair of krogan walked by, talking animatedly to each other. One of them laughed. "Ha! His face must've been priceless."

His partner chortled in response as they continued past John and her. "The human squealed like a pyjack. That's what happens when you let your guard down, though. Two seconds and BAM! Dead guy, contract fulfilled."

They stood in silence as the pair's words mingled back into the din around them. The quarian looked down, her resolve long gone. She felt something settle on her shoulder. "Tali?"

She hears a soft moan as she twists the knife. Her eyes widen as she makes a startling realization.

Geth don't groan.

The quarian bolted for the hangar, hoping that the shuttle hadn't returned to the Normandy yet.

"You're certain, sir? They have been particularly antagonistic ever since the Grayson fiasco."

The Illusive Man exhaled a thin stream of smoke as he admired the star's light. "The doctor may have gone off the reservation, but he was right when he said we should have had a quarian on the project all along."

"I still don't see why we should contact him instead of Lawson."

"The quarians know more about handling AI than any other race. It would be foolish not to use them so long as we have that option."

"And you suddenly believe in diplomacy?"

"Enough, Leng," he barked, turning to face the assassin. "They are the best tools we could have at a time like this." He took a puff of his cigarette, allowing the smoke to calm his nerves. "I have a call to make."

The assassin vanished with a bow as he returned to his chair. The Illusive Man searched through his contacts, finding the person he was looking for. A tone played through a speaker on the console in front of him as the call connected to the receiver's omni-tool.

"What the hell do you want?" a voice barked. "You know your ideals are no longer welcome within this fleet."

He responded in a businesslike tone. "I am merely making an offer, one that would benefit both of our species greatly."

"If you think I'm going to listen to your lies, then you're sorely mistaken. Goodb-"

"We found a way to control the geth."

His interruption earned him a long silence, though he noted with pleasure that the line was still connected. He resisted the urge to grin as he inhaled through his cigarette once more.

He was in control.

"How?" came the curt reply.

"We have our ways, and you stand to gain the most from assisting us."

Another silence greeted him as the person on the other end of the line considered the offer. "And why should I believe that humanity cares?"

He ignored the heavy dose of venom poured on the name of his species as he responded. "Don't play coy with me. You know about the reapers. Your people, if any, should know that Sovereign was not a geth construct."

"Of course not," the voice conceded. "The Council are fools for not being able to see that. None of their technology is even remotely similar, apart from reliance on eezo."

"Indeed. The reapers threaten all life in the galaxy, your species included. Both of our races stand a better chance of survival if the geth were to switch sides." He paused and took another puff. "Your expertise could be just what we need to advance and weaponize our techniques."

He neglected to add that he had no intention of turning the geth over to them.

"If I were to accept your offer," the voice slowly wondered aloud, "what would I expect to call this... project... you need assistance with?"

The Illusive Man's eyes twinkled as he leaned forward. It had almost been too easy to secure the alliance.

But it was all under control.

"It is called Project Overlord."

Note from the author:
Nicholas Glass and Quala'Oro are Levi Matthews' characters and are used by permission.
("Bow to your sensei. BOW to your sensei!" *respectfully obliges, fears the star-spangled pants*)