A/N: I took some small liberties in changing bits of the krogan's history. AU, remember!
"I do not understand the purpose of this," Sihra said impatiently. She stood, arms outstretched, in the small Aswa infirmary, a pale, hollow-eyed Miranda watching with interest from one biobed. Chakwas carefully scanned the rakir for the third time, Sihra's eyes narrowing with irritation as the golden light passed over them again.
She knew enough now to know that the strange lights and equipment she saw were not magic. Ashley had explained it to her, using her own ancestors as an example. A rakir from two or three hundred cycles before- who would have nothing but rocks or their own claws to take down prey- would look at one from Sihra's day wielding a bow, and consider it magic.
"What we have isn't magic, not even the biotics," Ashley had said. "They're just tools we've developed or discovered over many hundreds of thousands of years. We've had more time than your people to do so, that's all."
Still, understanding didn't mean that Sihra had to like it.
"We know almost nothing of rakir anatomy and physiology," Helen told her as she finished up the scan. "Everything we know of your people has been observed from afar. It can tell us your culture and manners and habits, but it cannot show us what lies beneath your skin. If you are wounded in battle I need to know how to treat you."
"And this will show you all of that?"
"Yes. In perfect detail, from the inside out."
Sihra huffed, scowling. Chakwas looked at her patiently, compiling the last scan with the previous ones. "That should be it. Would you like to see?"
"See my own guts?"
"Yes. Skeletal, cardio-vascular system, muscular system, endocrine system…everything from the inside out."
A few of the words she said had no translation. Her people knew what a heart was, of course, but they had no real name for a 'cardiovascular' system…certainly none for an endocrine system. Torn between curiosity and disgust, Sihra pondered a moment, then nodded.
Chakwas smiled, doing something with some equipment nearby. As she was working , Sihra watched her closely.
At home, only Stunted were doctors, scholars, or intellectuals of any kind. Though she had learned such was not the case with the detrak, it was in many ways a harder concept to wrap her head around than the 'magic'. This detrak was clearly a doctor, like Shepard- yet unlike Shepard, her scent confirmed she was in no way Stunted.
"All right, here we go," Helen said after a moment, then stepped back. A shimmer of light from the equipment, and a beam appeared. Slowly, a skeletal figure began to form from the feet up.
Sihra had seen bones many times before, of course, but these were apparently hers. She inclined her head, peering at the developing skeleton curiously as every inch was rendered in almost exacting lifelike detail. Watching the process as well, Chakwas was recording notes.
"Definitely a very articulate ankle, allowing a full independent pivot. Highly developed phalanges, retractable claws, nothing we didn't know there…"
Sihra half tuned her out, fascinated with watching the holograph develop. When it got further up her legs Chakwas said, "Evidence of a rather severe but well healed break along the right femur and pelvic girdle…"
"I was kicked by a norgato," Sihra said. "My first solo hunt. I came home dragging my leg and that 'gato's carcass."
"Judging by the calcium deposits you must have been pretty young."
"I was seven," Sihra told her.
After the skeleton was fully formed, the cardiovascular system began to appear, then organs. Helen took turns explaining what she was seeing and expressing wonder at the same time.
"You have three hearts?" she said as the chest cavity filled in. A large, almost human looking four chambered heart took up the center of the rakir's heavy ribcage, but on either side of her lungs smaller, far more primitive two chambered hearts also nestled.
Sihra seemed pleased, pointing at the larger one. "That is where our thought and courage come from," she said, then pointed to the left. "Our passion," and the right, "Our ferocity."
Chakwas eyed her. It was not considered odd among primitive people, even humans, to believe that one's spirit or thought actually stemmed from the heart and not the brain. Why not? They could see and feel the heart move, saw it had a purpose. They knew that to stop it stopped life. The brain, by comparison, was a simple tangled lump of flesh that did nothing that could be quantified by sight or smell.
More, it seemed only the center heart had circulatory systems that went to the rakir's higher brain processes. The other two only fed body tissues and the primitive brain stem. Destroying a rakir's large heart would, in fact, stop thought…their body would continue to live so long as the other two hearts beat, the primitive brain kept alive enough to move them and breathe, but any higher function would be gone, rendering the wounded rakir a non-responsive vegetable. Little wonder they considered thought came from that heart!
The heart wasn't the only organ that was multiplied, though Sihra had nowhere near the number of the krogan. She also had two tongues, and seeing the image develop as well, Miranda abruptly asked, "Can I see it?"
"See what?" Sihra asked impatiently.
"Your other tongue."
"I am not on enough display there, I must also do tricks?" Sihra asked angrily, pointing at the hologram.
"She is just curious, Sihra, she did not mean to insult," Chakwas told her. Not much soothed, Sihra walked over to the biobed and leaned over the human woman. Opening her mouth wide (and displaying her more than impressive set of teeth), Sihra stuck out her tongue, the one she used to eat and speak with.
If Miranda was discomfited by having those inch long, serrated teeth so close to her face, she didn't so much as blink. "Not that one," she said, though she knew the rakir was more than aware of that. "The other."
Sihra lifted her first tongue and from a fleshy pouch at the bottom of her mouth, her second tongue suddenly snapped out.
This tongue was not for eating or talking. Thin and whiplike, almost tenticular, it had evolved much the same way that certain lizards on Earth had evolved their tongues…to dart out and snag prey from a distance. Though it was not sticky, it was rather prehensile and could extend to four feet in a healthy rakir female. Sihra didn't have to go anywhere near that distance to slap Miranda over the cheek with it, the strike hard enough to rock the woman's head and leave a blossoming red impression.
Drawing it back, Sihra bellowed a laugh as Miranda gaped and cradled her face. Helen hurried to her side.
"There was no need to do that!" Chakwas said angrily. Sihra snorted, her amusement fading.
"I am not a toy, or a stuffed trophy to gawk at!" she said. "I am Prilekk Utchibahna Sihra, and I do not do tricks!"
Snarling, she turned and walked out of the infirmary, heading down to the small cargo bay where she had taken to bedding down. Her claws emitted a loud screech as she angrily swiped them at the wall, dragging them a foot before dropping her hand again.
She did not like this place. She did not like these people, these detrak. She was the highest champion of the Ubuut, and on Earth when the two infected had been in the lobby, Ashley had acted as if Sihra was the stupidest, greenest youngling and not a veteran of uncounted fights. She had treated her like a beast that would attack without even identifying friend or foe first.
That is what they think of me…that I am a mindless beast. My people are stupid and primitive to them, our ways 'backward' and beneath them. They watch us from the stars, waiting until they decide we are fit enough or worthy enough to know the things they know.
Her anger made bile rise in her throat and she went to a wall, sitting down. In truth, if it wasn't for their promise to help find the reason their males were being born infertile…
She just wanted to go home. Back to where people made sense, where life moved as it should, and things smelled familiar.
Lowering her head and baring her teeth slightly, she sighed and closed her eyes.
Liara had slept, waking from heavy, slow dreams, and automatically looking toward her clock. They had four more hours before they would be at Tuchanka, and another hour before she had to be out of bed. Normally she just would have gotten up anyway, but as she felt warm and incredibly comfortable, she made no effort to shift or rise.
Then she stiffened, holding her breath as at her side, Shepard murmured sleepily, her brows knitting before they slowly smoothed out. Liara relaxed again, satisfied the doctor had returned to the deeper tides of slumber.
Though there had been some…affectionate gestures the night before, nothing more had happened. Both of them had been far too exhausted- and, perhaps, too timid really- to further explore their growing relationship. Instead, they had spent most of the time just lying down and talking before they both simply fell to sleep.
Thinking back over their conversation, Liara felt her cheeks heat ever so slightly. She had told Shepard more of her family and her life growing up than she had ever articulated before, to anyone. She had no explanation for doing so, and no matter how she mulled over it she could not figure it out. What was it about Del Shepard that made her feel so comfortable, yet so frightened at the same time? She had vowed over and over again never to get involved with anyone. Her life was her work, and she had built it around that unwavering center. What about Shepard had so easily shattered those stone walls of determination, as if they were nothing but glass?
For the first time in her life, Liara actually found herself hoping for more of a life than just being a Spectre…and it scared the pris para out of her.
She had to admit though-this was nice. To wake up with someone bundled warm against her side, feeling their soft breath on her neck…
Someone who may be killed at every moment on this mission, or who may decide to simply walk away once it is done. And if that does not come to pass? She is the daughter of a prominent human senator. Will her family accept her with an asari? Will they consider me too rough, my life too dangerous, to be worthy of her? Even if all goes perfectly, she is still human. Whether it is her desire or not, one day she will leave me with that same heartbreak I saw every day on my father's face.
The pragmatic part of her knew that was unlikely. She was a Spectre, after all. As dangerous and unique as this particular mission was, that did not make any of her others any safer. There was a very real chance that Shepard would outlive her, despite being human. She-
{Captain, are you awake?}
Dr. Chakwas' voice broke instantly through her thoughts, and without thinking Liara sat up, drawing her arm out from under Del. The motion woke her bedmate, who lifted her head and blinked in exhausted confusion. "Wha…?"
"I am here, Helen. What is it?" Liara asked, already rising from the bed.
{Sihra. She is…rather upset. I think she went down to the cargo bay. You may want to speak with her.}
"What happened?"
Without thought, Liara pulled off the shift she had been sleeping in and started to get dressed. Such an act was so common among asari she didn't think twice about the fact that she wasn't alone.
{I was compiling her physiology scans in the medibay when Miranda…requested to see her second tongue. Sihra was not pleased with the request and ended up striking Miranda, before she stormed off downstairs.}
She has two tongues? Liara thought in surprise. "Is Miranda hurt?"
{No. She has a small mark but compared to what a rakir could do to her, the blow was barely a slap.}
"Understood. I am on my way to the cargo bay."
She finished dressing and looked over at Shepard. The human woman was sitting on the bed, beautifully disheveled and bright red. When Liara looked at her, she turned even redder, and looked away.
"Merah?"
"I'm fine. I'll come with you to talk to Sihra-"
"It may be advisable that you do not do so. She still considers you…of a lower social caste, and your presence may make things worse. Besides, you still need rest. Sleep some more. I will return soon."
Del's concern was evident as Liara walked toward her and sat on the edge of the bed. "It's not safe for you, either."
"Sihra may be able to best me if it comes to hand-to-hand combat, but she cannot contest my biotics. I will be fine."
Unconsciously she reached out, softly brushing some of those mussed locks of hair back from her face. Realizing what she'd done, she cleared her throat and then nodded. "Rest. Please."
Sihra was seated near one wall in the small cargo bay when Liara entered. Her yellow eye with its oblong pupil turned toward her briefly, before she snorted and looked away again.
"She is not injured," the rakir said irritably. "I doubt her weak hide will even bear a mark."
"I am unconcerned with Miranda," Liara said, walking over. "I am concerned with you. Miranda should not have made you feel as if you were a curiosity, or an exhibit. You have to understand, the rakir are strange to us-"
"Strange to you?" Sihra hissed, then rose to her feet, towering a good foot and a half over the smaller asari. "Your kind have been watching my people for cycle upon cycle! Hiding up in your stars, quantifying and qualifying my kind to see if we are worthy enough to join you. It seems to me you have had plenty of time to become acquainted with us. We have not had the same luxury."
Liara nodded slightly. "I can see how it would seem that way, Prilekk, but the observation teams are not there to judge your worthiness-"
"Oh?" She folded her arms with bitter sarcasm. "They are not?"
"No, not as such. It is true, we could go down at any time, tell your people the truth about the vast universe they are a part of. That is what will happen if this mission is successful, Prilekk. In order to save them your people will be uplifted if we can come to a treaty with your Ubuut-"
"But if not for the Stunted plague? If my people had a healthy population of fertile males you would be making no such effort. You would be keeping us in the dark until you are kind enough to allow us to join you."
"That is not accurate. If not for the Stunted we would indeed leave you on your own for quite some time to come, but that is not because we feel it is our right to determine your 'worthiness' or to control your destiny…quite the opposite. Sihra, uplifting a species is done only under the most dire of circumstances. You will gain many advancements, huge leaps in technology and medicine, it's true- but you will also be robbed of an immeasurable amount."
"Robbed?" Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, robbed?"
"Cultures grow and evolve over hundreds of thousands of years. Your people are still at the beginning of this growth, still learning and exploring who you are. Ideally, you would have centuries yet to develop your own philosophies, decide for yourselves what it truly means to be rakir. This doesn't happen overnight. It requires wars, struggles, periods of horrible barbarity and those of utter renaissance. By uplifting you, we are stealing away a million things from your future that would have shaped you as an entire species. Instead of your own philosophies you will be inundated with those of a dozen different unrelated species. It pollutes, Sihra…it changes, and it weakens."
Given the rakir's narrow eyed glare, Liara was not sure she was quite following her. Gesturing toward the wall, she moved and sat down. Pausing a moment, Sihra went and sat down nearby as well.
"Let me tell you some of my own species," she told the rakir. She talked for a while, describing the history of the asari- the primitive tribes they used to live in, the struggles, disease, and starvation that was rampant. She told her of the rise of Aswa V'Dess, who conquered most of the planet and left entire villages steeped in blood- yet whose rule lead to a great cultural unity, advancing mathematics, philosophy, music and art, and birthing the Order of the Justicars. She described how they had perfected the technology to reach the stars themselves, discovering the mass relays, the other species.
"If we had been found by another species and uplifted before the time of V'Dess, we would not be the same," she said. "We would be immersed in their technology, their world, and we would have lost the unique voice that makes us truly asari. Our identity may not have been totally overwritten, but it would have been diluted, weakened. That is why we watch, Sihra. It is not out of a desire to keep your people weak or below us. It is so that you can find your own voice before you must sing with a choir of others. It is so you can find your own unique future without our interference."
Sihra regarded her a moment, then asked, "Were any others uplifted as my people are to be?" she asked. "Were there any other-unique circumstances-that caused a younger species to be brought off their world before their time?"
"Yes, actually," Liara said sadly. "The krogan."
"They are who we are going to see now, the ones on Tuchanka," Sihra said. "Why were they uplifted?"
"Two reasons, actually. One of which was not far different than yours, and one of which I am…sad to say was not in their best interests."
"They were dying out? Unable to have fertile children?"
"It was a matter of reproduction, yes, but quite the opposite of yours. They were breeding far too much. Their society and the hostile nature of their world helped to keep their numbers down but a crucial balance was lost as they advanced. They began to overgrow their resources, leading to horrible wars with each other, devastation of an already harsh landscape, leading to starvation, disease. Even so, it was a matter of debate as to whether we should interfere. There was a possibility of their population being cut down just enough to restore a balance rather than lead to extinction, and that they would learn a crucial and vital lesson from their past and not repeat the same mistakes."
"Why then were they uplifted?"
"The more shameful reason," Liara told her. "Another species invaded our space…the rachni. An insect race that spread like locusts, consuming every world they reached. They outnumbered us vastly…and the krogan were not only formidable warriors, they reproduced fast enough to match the rachni and make up for losses. The salarians and turians decided to uplift them-"
"And make them into an army," Sihra said. "Use them to defeat the invader. The asari agreed to this?"
"We…let us just say, we did not stand in their way."
"And the rachni were defeated?"
"Yes. The krogan saved us and drove the rachni to extinction. However, we now had another problem. The krogan would breed across the galaxy and replace the very threat they'd been uplifted to contain. So, the turians and salarians developed what is called the 'genophage', a genetic disease that causes the majority of krogan children to be stillborn, dropping their reproductive rates down to the galactic norm rather than the incredibly high numbers they had been before."
Sihra bared her teeth. "They saved the lot of you and in thanks they were castrated? Is this what awaits my people? An open hand and then a claw in the back?"
"No, Sihra," Liara said intently. "No. The genophage was a mistake. Most in the galaxy understand that now. The damage done to the krogan is inexcusable. We will not repeat that mistake. Sihra, your people must be uplifted or they will die. There is a cost to it, of course…but the rakir will live, continue. Is that not preferable to death?"
"Every rakir child knows death is not the worst fate one can suffer," Sihra said tautly. To her surprise, Liara actually smiled a bit wistfully.
"You will like the krogan, I think," she said. "Your peoples have much in common."
"Do we?"
"Warriors, filled with fire and honor, honest and strong."
"Hmm." Sihra thought this over, then smirked. "Then I shall either like them…or loathe them beyond belief."
Liara laughed.
