Krogan Demilitarized Zone, Aralakh System
Tuchanka orbit, Normandy Sr-2, Deck 3
1238 Local Time, June 22th, 2185 Gregorian Calendar
Virox had many reservations about what he was about to do. Granted, he had many reservations about many things related to his assignment, with that very assignment being one of them. Or the fact that his time on the Normandy would soon end, and he would probably face grave consequences for his misconduct once he returned to the Empire. However, given that he was still onboard, his present mental state did not permit him to fulfill his duties to an acceptable level. The least he could do before he was recalled was complete his service in a respectable manner. For whatever good that would be worth in front of a military tribunal.
He had completed his report on his deployment to the Collector Ship and attached all the information that he and Shepard managed to acquire onboard. Under Shepard's pressure, EDI, the ship's AI, even gave up some of the data she extracted from the ship itself. And of course... he elected to include a section on the strange and frankly unnerving psychological effects that the Collectors had on him. If a mere sight of one could trigger the sort of reaction he experienced, it was a cause for concern. He was sure that High Command would dismiss them as products of stress and mental instability (what, with the whole 'assaulting a superior officer' thing going on), and wouldn't actually take this seriously. Nonetheless, he still felt obligated to include it, even if it was unpleasant.
Speaking of unpleasantries, Virox was now going to subject himself to another one. One that he would have liked to avoid, yet given his desire to complete the rest of his assignment on the ship in an exemplary manner, this was a necessary inconvenience.
He stood at the door of the medical bay and with a heavy heart opened it, revealing the stark white walls within. "Doctor Chakwas..."
"Virox?" The human doctor turned around with an expression of surprise. "Unusual for you to come visit. Is everything alright? Or perhaps you need someone other than Garrus to talk to?"
Virox blinked a couple times, trying to understand the true meaning of what she said. He couldn't really tell if Chakwas was sarcastic in a playful or hostile manner. "This visit is purely out of necessity, doctor."
"Alright then, what is it? Did you get wounded on the last mission? Or perhaps a gastric issue related to food? I'll notify Gardner to prepare special meals for you if that's the case." She stood up and gestured at him to come with her.
"Actually... I don't really know what it is. Only that it isn't either of what you suggested." Virox replied and dutifully stood at the designated spot.
"Hmm. What are the symptoms?" Chakwas asked as she turned on her omni-tool and aimed what looked to be a medical scanner at his eyes, causing him to squint uncomfortably. "Keep your eyes open for a moment. You can talk freely while I do this."
Given their quite significant difference in height, she looked a bit silly from Virox's perspective, but at the very least she wasn't reacting with fear or hostility like most of the Cerberus crew of the vessel.
"I can't focus. I feel... restless, and exhausted at the same time. I have moments where my senses sharpen to such a degree that it's almost overwhelming, and those when they become dulled." He answered, and after the bright light hitting his eyes vanished, looked down at his hands, trying to suppress the urge to clench his fists. "And the anger. Like I'm constantly at the edge of collapsing into Rage. I sometimes feel the desire to eat...no, devour something alive."
"I've heard from the crew that you do tend to give off that kind of impression." She smiled once again, to Virox's slight annoyance.
Still, she sat down at her desk and started typing something into her terminal. Despite her slightly playful attitude, Virox could see that she took her job extremely seriously, something that he could greatly respect. He consciously did not mention the Collectors as the source of his condition. Had he done so, it would put his usefulness as a fighter in stopping the Collectors into question, and he did not want that.
"Well, your pupils are narrower than the read I got from you last time you visited. And I see moments of rapid eye movement, though I cannot verify what it means for you without further medical data." Chakwas spoke, showing a mild hint of frustration. "In humans this usually signifies vivid dreaming, but based on what you said this is unlikely to be the case. Have you experienced any hallucinations?"
"No." Virox truthfully replied.
Chakwas sighed and closed the terminal. "I'm running out of theories here. We'll try a blood analysis next, but given my limited knowledge of your species, I believe that someone more familiar with xenobiology could help us figure out what's wrong."
Virox stiffened up at her words. He knew exactly who the doctor was referring to. "I was hoping to avoid involving the Professor."
"You can trust him. I have never met a doctor so dedicated to the well-being of his patients with so much skill to boast." Chakwas countered, the tone of her voice showing genuine care. "Just give him a chance. He helped you before, didn't he?"
"The man is ex-STG... but... ugh, fine." He grumbled with dejection. "However if he starts to perform a live dissection, I will eat him and you. In that order."
As the Professor was heading down, Virox sat down on one of the beds and obediently let Doctor Chakwas insert a syringe into a dedicated spot at the base of his neck. Because both of his arms were cybernetic, and the blood there was always briefly mixed with other substances during circulation, it wasn't useful to extract it for testing from the implants themselves.
Much to his annoyance, Professor Solus arrived quickly, way before Chakwas could make a diagnosis on his blood. But he had to live with that.
"Doctor Chakwas. Came as quickly as possible. Had to stash a few samples first. Could have gone to waste if them if left alone for too long." Mordin walked in, and as per his usual style started off with a barrage of statements. When he noticed the carvin, he blinked a few times in surprise. "Virox... unexpected."
"Believe me, if I could help it, I would not be here, and neither would you." Virox muttered mostly to himself. His voice was probably quiet enough that no one else caught that.
"He came here because he felt several unusual symptoms following Shepard's mission. I took the liberty of taking a blood test before you arrived, Professor." Chakwas remarked and proceeded to fill Mordin in on what Virox had told her before.
"Hmm. Peculiar. Grunt exhibiting some of the same symptoms. Perhaps a pathogen from the Collector-no... contact between them too brief, other crewmembers not displaying symptoms. Adolecense? No, carvins achieve biological adulthood after 10 years." Mordin paced around, trying to come up with a sufficient explanation. "Nonono... not enough data. Not enough data."
Seemingly coming to their aid and freeing both of the doctors from speculation, the machine that was performing the blood test beeped quietly, signaling the end of its work. Mordin was there reading through the results even before Chakwas took a single step. That man was seriously hyperactive.
"Increased levels of adrenaline and cortisol in blood. Suggests state of heightened awareness. Explains both restlessness and exhaustion. Prolonged state of high alert taxing on body, on brain." He spoke just as quickly as before, his eyes darting through the lines of data he analyzed. "Can prescribe medication to reduce hormone concentration in bloodstream. Still, this is only symptom treatment. Source of the problem... uncertain. Adrenal glands active for so long without rest? Troubling, dangerous maybe."
"What..." Virox hesitated if he should mention this. He did not want to further erode the fragile trust of his colleagues. "What about the hunger? The bloodthirst?"
Mordin stopped almost mid-step, and Virox almost thought he made a terrible mistake. But instead of nervousness of fear, a look of concern adorned the Professor's face. He turned on his omni-tool and Virox once again was met with a blinding light of the scanner.
"Doctor Chakwas already checked my eye movement." He said in case the Professor wanted to unknowingly repeat the procedure.
"Not eye movement. Monitoring brain waves. This software more advanced. Of STG design. Did part of the work myself. Not available even to Cerberus... hold still for a moment." Mordin clarified as quickly as ever.
Virox dutifully allowed himself to be scanned for the second time, and with the corner of his eye noticed that even through the glass window of the medical bay some of the human crewmen were taking sneaky glances at him. The human cook did not even try to hide his stares.
I'm an alien. Don't know what I expected from a human supremacist terror organization. He silently mused.
"Done. May move normally now. Noticed increased activity in the basal ganglia, or carvin equivalent." Mordin pulled him out of his thoughts, and when the doctor realized that he was still confused, he clarified. "Part of the brain responsible for the most basic functions. Instinct. Motor and eye control. It is particularly active in your head. Reasons... unknown."
"So... what am I supposed to do?" Virox asked. He was really running out of options here.
"Pardon me, Professor, but I have an idea." Chakwas interjected then turned towards him. "During a check-up on his scars, Garrus mentioned that on Haestrom you were not as tense as on the Normandy. And that, at least to him, you feel more comfortable while in combat. While I can understand doing what you clearly enjoy may have played a part, we should still consider it."
"Carvins predatory in nature. More so than the turians. Could they-? No. Or maybe..." The Professor said, acting like he wanted to add something that seemed to be at the tip of his tongue but was just too far to grasp it. "Go on."
"Based on what Shepard told me, the mission to the Collector ship could have been... psychologically taxing in many aspects." Chakwas continued. "Perhaps a mission without such a heavy baggage could serve as a means of restoring the hormonal and psychological balance in Virox's body through a hormonal shake-up. A hard-reset of sort. It's not very... medical in nature, however Shepard did express desire to visit Tuchanka and help Grunt. We're in orbit right now, and knowing the krogan, it won't all go without a fight."
"An accurate assessment under the circumstances. Method not very scientific. But in the absence of significant parts of carvin biological and medical data, it's the only viable option." Mordin concluded, and for the first time Virox actually saw him look defeated. "Will notify the Commander of your situation. Still, best if you take the hormone suppressing medicine before the mission. It will render the active hormones inert for a time, allow mental recuperation prior to any potential combat."
He then searched for something from Chakwas' medical stash and pulled out a small container with what Virox quickly found out to be small white pills. Not exactly the type of treatment he was hoping for, but then again he wasn't spoiled for choice.
"Accounting for body mass, volume of blood in circulation, metabolism, two pills now and another two in an hour should be enough." The Professor him the pills and Virox swallowed the two tiny objects in one go.
"For all it's worth, I'm not the one responsible for distributing our medical information." He said, trying his best to sound approachable.
Both of them then bid farewell to Doctor Chakwas. She clearly was not pleased with the outcome of this particular check-up, and Virox could see it on her face. But at least they had a plan, even though it was based on hearsay spawned from Garrus' blabbering. On that note, he needed to have a chat regarding that issue with the turian. Maybe after this mission.
He was about to turn right, towards the main battery, but was stopped by Mordin who grabbed his arm. Instinctively his muscles stiffened up and his fingers clenched into a fist.
"Professor... I believe I made it clear numerous times that I do not particularly enjoy your company." He spoke with a low, guttural voice, not even turning around. "What do you want?"
"You treat me as a spy. Understandable, your species distrustful of outsiders. Special Tasks Group adept at infiltration and espionage. Was a member, know how it operates." The salarian said with a calm but determined voice. "Retired years ago. Now a doctor first. Patient safety is my primary concern."
"What's your point?" Virox finally decided to face the Professor.
"This mission. Stopping the Collectors. It requires a cohesive and unified team. If animosities remain, team will be torn apart." Mordin said. His voice was just as confident, even when Virox's jaws were just a few centimeters from his face. "You CAN trust me. You are my patient. My work. My responsibility."
"Cute of you to care." Virox chuckled and with one decisive motion liberated his arm from the salarian's hold. "You do not know me."
"No, but I studied xenobiology. All races that achieved spaceflight have developed more or less sophisticated social instincts, but all are highly advanced." Mordin retorted. "All of them have evolved with a fundamental need for social interaction. Isolation counterproductive. Dangerous even. Doctor's opinion: should reconsider hostility towards the crew."
I am going to punch you in that stupid face, smartass. Virox thought, for a second considering to give in to the feelings that were causing the turmoil in his head. While it was true that he felt lonely, he could suffer through it. He could make it until the end of his assignment. Until he was recalled.
Professor sighed, then turner around and walked away in silence. No sneaky remarks, no useless trivia. Nothing. This was a bit unusual. Virox was fully expecting the salarian to push the issue. Hell, he even wanted that. At the very least it would be an outlet for his emotions.
But instead he was faced with silence. Silence that hurt. He could feel the physical pain of loneliness.
And then he realized that for all his annoying quirks, for all his prying, all his rapid-fire talking and a never-satiated hunger for knowledge... Mordin was right. Virox wanted connection. Connection he did not have since the Grox War... no, perhaps even earlier than that. He was hesitant to start conversations, yet still engaged in them, even if only to vent out the frustration and negativity that was building up inside his head. For all the concerns he had, the small talks with Garrus actually left him more at ease than the silence he so stubbornly convinced himself he preferred.
No matter how hard he tried to deny it, delude himself, or conjure up any real rationalization, every single path led him to either no answer or the one that hurt so much because it was true.
He looked behind for a split second, but the Professor was gone. The familiar feeling of invisible weight once again descended upon his shoulders. But he had to bear it. Just a week or two and this would all be over.
For better or worse.
Krogan Demilitarized Zone, Aralakh System
Tuchanka, Urdnot Camp, Shuttle landing pad
1545 Local Time, June 22th, 2185 Gregorian Calendar
When Shepard learned of Grunt's condition, she was more than just a little concerned. While she had full confidence in the combat abilities of her team, there was little doubt that with so many colorful personalities onboard the Normandy tensions would inevitably arise. There were already several strong and assertive individuals within the ranks of her Suicide Squad. Having them become emotionally or otherwise unstable wasn't exactly the most desirable for the longevity and success of their mission. Thus her visit to Tuchanka.
Truth be told, even though Shepard already knew what to expect, the planet still managed to instill in her a grim feeling of dejection. She heard many stories about the krogan, learned about their history and culture, and how they have been reduced to the state they were now in. But seeing the real thing with her own eyes was something else entirely.
"So... this is what a failed civilization looks like." Virox mused while looking at an aerial image of the planet. Shepard wanted to take him with her on an assignment for some time, since it seemed like he too had some tension he needed to relieve.
"Hmph. Figures... an alien like you wouldn't understand our history." Grunt scoffed, sending the carvin a hostile glare.
"You take issue with what I said only because you cannot accept reality." Virox bit back. "You claim ownership of krogan history, yet you had no part to play in it. Don't expect me to show sympathy if you start crying. Even if you're not even a year old, I do not care."
Shepard already started to regret her lineup for this particular mission, but changing it so quickly wouldn't inspire confidence in her leadership. Thus she decided to break up the discussion.
"Both of you, cut it out. There's already a bunch of potentially unfriendly krogan down there. Let's not add to the negativity." She chastised them, earning only annoyed huffs of acknowledgement in response.
Their shuttle flew through a long and tall tube-like structure before it touched down on solid ground. Its doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a ruin, but one that was surprisingly well maintained. Despite the concrete walls clearly being very dated and dusted, the area they protected was well organized. Crates with supplies did not get in the way of the walking traffic. A Blood Pack recruiter stood at the side, keeping a distance from everyone else. Warriors with pet varren stood guard diligently in front of the entrance to the camp proper.
Shepard obviously did not expect a warm welcome. Krogan were anything but hospitable towards aliens. But she needed Grunt at his best, and the Illusive Man had told her before that Urdnot Wrex, her old friend, was trying to unite the krogan clans on Tuchanka. If he had acquired a high position within the current clan chief's court... there was a chance he could help them figure out what was wrong with Grunt.
All three of them walked down a small ramp that led deeper into the camp, but were stopped short of the entrance by a trio of armed guards.
"Stop there, alien. You're Shepard... of the Normandy." The krogan without a helmet, clearly of higher rank than his brethren, spoke with a booming voice. As if on cue, the other two guards pulled out their weapons, visibly intent on halting any unsanctioned transgression.
Both Shepard and the krogan guard engaged in a brief staring contest, trying to study the other's intention. She made all the effort to keep her expression unreadable, and it seemed that her opponent had done the same.
"The clan leader wants to speak to you." He finally relented and gestured at the other guards to lower their weapons. Then he glared at Grunt with what must have been a mixture of annoyance and dismissal. "Keep your rutting pet on a short leash. Get him the Rite soon, or put him down."
That was... unexpected. Even though Shepard did not appreciate the hostility, the krogan leader had clearly diagnosed the issue with Grunt at a single glance. Perhaps he could help them.
"Do you know what's wrong with him? What he needs?" She asked.
"There's nothing wrong with him. Just go speak with the clan leader." The guard waved his hand dismissively before stepping aside. At the very least he was letting them through without much issue.
The three of them walked the concrete halls that led to the camp. Several krogan stood on the sides, either cleaning their weapons, tending to their varren, sparring, or conversing. Shepard's ear caught a few snippets from two adult krogan warriors who spoke of future vengeance against turians and salarians for inflicting the genophage upon their kin. Not exactly happy thoughts, but still better than the racist batarian prophet from Omega.
When they exited the hallway, they were greeted by Tuchanka's sun shining down upon them through a hole in the roof of a massive underground complex that constituted the epicenter of the Urdnot Camp. The camp itself was located within what looked to be an old underground bunker, warehouse, or a highway tunnel, but years of neglect and war between rivaling krogan clans caused the entire area to be strewn with rubble.
Here the activity was much greater. A few krogan males were sat at a table, drinking what was probably ryncol. Some were cheering near a varren fighting pit, and others patrolled the area. There was a small group of krogan situated on a hill in the middle of the encampment. The individuals in question had distinctly different armor patterns, an aspect that Shepard attributed to clan allegiance.
"This is the great krogan homeworld? This is the land of Kredak, Shiagur, and Veeoll?" Grunt pondered as he gazed upon the ruined landscape that surrounded them, his voice rich in frustration. "This chunk of rock is barely worth standing on! Never thought I'd miss the tank..."
"Look at that. Probably the first thing I agree with you on." Virox replied almost kindly. Almost being the key word. "But to be fair, your people have survived here for a long time. Now if you all could just stop trying to exterminate each other and selling yourselves out as mercs or thugs, you'd be halfway done with rebuilding... Then again, it's the krogan, so perhaps these expectations lay between implausible and fantasy."
Shepard stopped almost mid-step. This was probably the longest statement she heard Virox say ever. Or at the very least the longest one spoken without being asked beforehand. And while she was happy he was engaging with the team (as opposed to still being in his antisocial shell), the confrontational attitude he fashioned was not exactly lending itself useful to the team cohesion.
"I have a feeling you dislike the krogan, Virox." She said, trying to approach the issue in a diplomatic manner.
"Not dislike. Disappointment." The carvin shrugged. "Their civilization had everything. A seat on the Council, a sprawling empire, the respect of the galaxy after defeating the Rachni. And then they squandered it through fault of their own."
"You certainly did your research." She commented, noticing how well-informed he was on the krogan history.
"I read up on the history of the Citadel before I was assigned here. Now... I'm reading an entry or two from time to time." Virox shrugged, completely ignoring the glare he was now receiving from Grunt. His hands were restless though, as if they were looking for something to do. "Let's just get on with it."
The last bit was much less enthusiastic than the rest. Shepard had received the message from both Mordin and Chakwas, recommending that Virox be deployed during the next mission. Something about him needing to 'unwind' a bit. Now she was starting to get what they meant. Between the talking more than usual and a partial return to a more confrontational attitude, the carvin was visibly restless. And while this was supposed to be a medical run to check what was wrong with Grunt, she had met enough krogan to suspect that the solution was not going to be without some violence.
"Let's just get to the clan chief." She said and gestured her teammates to follow her towards the slightly more crowded hill that dominated the area.
They did not get very far though. Two armed guards stood in their path, clearly set on preventing anyone else from joining the group at the summit. At the very least both were without helmets and seemed less hostile than the ones Shepard met earlier.
"Halt. You must wait till the clan leader summons you." The rightmost guard spoke calmly, then turned around with an exasperated expression. "He's... in talks."
Indeed, behind the two guards a fiery discussion was taking place between two very large krogan. The one with a light green plate was pacing from side to side and speaking to whom Shepard suspected to be the clan chief sitting on a throne made of stone and debris. She couldn't get a good look from where she stood, however she could very distinctly see that the clan chief had a suspiciously familiar red plate.
The clan chief remained silently sat on his throne, listening to what the other krogan had to say. Yet in what seemed to be a stroke of good luck, the clan chief's eyes wander for a moment to her and her teammates. His head turned towards them and he stood up in a single swift motion.
"SHEPARD." A familiar booming voice echoed throughout the camp.
"Good enough?" Shepard asked the guards, and without even waiting for his answer she squeezed through the two of them.
The krogan clan chief shoved aside the green-plated krogan who spoke to him just moments before. It was unmistakable. The red plate, the towering posture that dominated even over fellow krogan, the voice she found so familiar.
He grabbed her arm in a strong but in a way gentle handshake. "Shepard... my friend!"
She let out a genuine chuckle. It truly was him.
Urdnot Wrex, in the flesh.
Krogan Demilitarized Zone, Aralakh System
Tuchanka, Urdnot Camp, Clan Chief's throne area
1557 Local Time, June 22th, 2185 Gregorian Calendar
It was quite a surprise to learn that the chief of Clan Urdnot was none other than Urdnot Wrex. Virox heard stories about him from Garrus, and the krogan in question did not disappoint. A massive statue and many scars that adorned his face showed to Virox that Wrex was in every way a grizzled veteran and a skilled warrior that Garrus made him out to be.
However this also made Virox nervous. He had hoped to touch down on Tuchanka along with Grunt and Shepard to vent out the pressure building up in his head. A friendly face of Wrex's caliber meant that the likelihood of a violent confrontation (and thus an outlet for his tension) decreased.
Mordin's medication was at the very least having some effect. He wasn't as shaky as before, and he could control his thoughts more effectively than before he took the pills. Still, Virox could quite clearly feel that the hormone suppressants were wearing off, and he did not wish to entertain the idea of him going off in the middle of an 'allied' encampment.
You know your stuff, Professor. I'll give you that. He thought, regretting in hindsight that he did not ask for an extra pill or a half.
"And who's that you've brought with you?" Virox heard Wrex's deep voice and quickly realized that it was him that the krogan was referring to.
He did not really pay attention to the conversation, only hearing snippets about the past adventures, something about Grunt being an adult, and that other green-plated krogan being pissed about it and leaving. For the most part he was trying to focus on keeping himself calm. Now however he was put on the spot, so he dutifully stood at attention as Wrex sized him up with both of his red eyes.
"That's Virox, a carvin. Seems that at least one government in the galaxy gives a damn about the Collectors, since they sent him to me as a liaison." Shepard said.
Wrex leaned in forward, the same way he had done when asked about Grunt. "That true, pipsqueak? You with Shepard to save the galaxy again?"
"I was ordered to gather information about the Collectors and assist the Commander in her mission for the duration of my assignment." Virox truthfully replied, slightly annoyed at the label he received. "Also, I'm hundred and fifty five years old. In human years that's... over two hundred if I'm correct. So I'll ask you kindly to piss off."
"Ha. That's almost as long as I've spent doing mercenary work before meeting Shepard." The old krogan chuckled. "You're still a baby pyjak in my book."
Virox rolled his eyes in irritation, but decided not to push the issue. He was already on borrowed time before he relapsed into... whatever was wrong with him.
Thankfully Shepard came in to rescue him from a potential prolonging of the discussion. "It was good to see you again, Wrex. Sure you can't come with us?"
"Wish I could, but I need to keep these shortsighted fools in line." Wrex replied with a kindest expression that a krogan was capable of making. "Hunt well, Shepard."
"Come on, let's go talk to the shaman." She gestured at both of them to follow.
Grunt obediently complied, but Virox was hesitant. He felt the need to calm himself, and did not see it fitting to interrupt the mission. He needed a moment of respite to organize his thoughts as best as he could before they proceeded with Grunt's Rite.
"Com... Shepard." He struggled to overcome the decades of rigorous conditioning in calling her by her surname rather than rank. "I think I'll rather stay here for the moment. Let you both figure it out with the shaman. I'll join you when you're ready to move out."
She turned back and looked at him, visibly concerned. "Are you sure? You don't have to force yourself. If you need to go back to the Normandy then-"
"No. That would exacerbate the problem. I'm fine. I just... need a moment." Virox tried to sound reassuring, though given Shepard's expression it seems he failed miserably.
"Alright then. If something happens, just holler." She said and left with Grunt at her side.
Virox took a deep breath, then walked off the central hill and away from the throne. He opted to stand near the fighting pit, where two krogan were preparing their pet varren for a fight. This planet evoked something strange in him. Something he wanted to be long forgotten, buried under the new fresh memories. The images of ruined Carvistorn.
All this rubble, the way in which the krogan were forced to fight for scraps, the signs of a once great and vibrant culture now forgotten or bastardized by an unforgiving reality of the Genophage. He realized just how striking the resemblance was to the war torn streets of the Imperial Capital of Lexaant during the Grox invasion. The ceiling riddled with holes evoked the horrifying memories of nights when he cowered in fear of the Grox orbital bombing campaigns in caves, forests, and ruined towns or cities.
But unlike the krogan, the carvin capital Lexaant now stood once again as a shining beacon to the Empire's citizens, and a testament to carvin excellence and resilience. Meanwhile after a thousand years since the Genophage was unleashed, Tuchanka stagnated or even regressed into... well, this.
The krogan had over a full lifetime to do anything about the predicament they got themselves into, even more so if one accounted for the reduced average life expectancy caused by taking on mercenary work. And they have done nothing. In around the same time, the Carvin Empire went through its process of rebuilding after the Grox War, expanded its borders to completely new frontiers, and went through an insurrection that in the end strengthened its core foundations. Granted it was not really a fair comparison between the two civilizations, but frankly Virox did not care. In his eyes, the krogan and only the krogan were responsible for the landscape he was now looking at. Someone more intellectually informed would likely argue with him to death over that, but once again he did not care in the slightest.
Despite being engrossed in these thoughts, his senses were not dulled. Shortly after he left the hill, he heard heavy steps behind him, creeping ever closer with each passing second. His instincts screamed at him to face the danger, and he had to consciously stop himself from extending the knuckle blades from both of his arms. Once the sound of footsteps was close enough that his tail could feel the air moving, the mysterious individual stopped.
"Lemme guess. You're thinking that it's all just a worthless pile of radioactive rubble, aren't you?" He turned around and his eyes widened slightly in surprise.
It was Urdnot Wrex himself that got off his throne and walked up to him. Virox had to double check just to be sure, and true enough the throne was empty. Wrex's guards were behind him, though they kept their distance, probably on his orders.
"It's not the exact words I'd use, but... it does my thoughts justice well enough." He replied, studying the old krogan for any hint that he wanted to turn this into a provocation. "Shouldn't you be up there? You know... ruling? Or did you walk down here to grant me a new perspective on this, as you so elegantly put it, 'pile of radioactive rubble'?"
"Ah, if I could deal with all of those pyjak shit-slingers so quickly, it would have been a dream come true." To his surprise Wrex just sighed. There was no hostility in his voice. "And as for the radioactive pile... no. No point in lying to yourself. It is what it is."
"So why come down? I imagine it's for more than just small talk." Virox asked, still unsure of the krogan's intentions.
"In case you haven't noticed, we don't get a lot of aliens on Tuchanka." Wrex replied and walked closer. Surprisingly both of his guards held position as they were. "I've done jobs around the entire galaxy for all sorts of people for a long time. But I never met one of your kind."
"So you're telling me it's intelligence gathering." Virox mockingly said. It was obvious that the true intention was something else. Wrex had an aura of someone experienced, smart... wise even, which made sense given his supposed age. He would not come down here for idle chatter.
"Your folk aren't exactly known around the galaxy for their subtlety. It may not look like it, but we do have extranet here. And you have caused quite a stir." Wrex replied cryptically. "Knowing what your government wants may prove important to the survival of my people."
That one was unexpected. Most of the krogan Virox had seen or heard speaking were more egocentric, selfish even. Not a single one really gave a damn about the common future of their species. Seeing a krogan think so differently from their peers was surprising.
"So you're above the petty squabbles of your people?" He asked, this time making sure he came across as more honest. "Guess there's some hope for your species. Even if that hope is well past its prime years."
"Hahaha! You've got a quad, kid. I'll grant you that." Wrex let out a genuine laugh. "I guess you haven't been paying attention to the conversation. But yes, I'm working on strengthening the krogan as a whole... even though some are less than thrilled by the prospect."
Virox recalled some bits and pieces of Shepard talking with the chief and remembered a few points. Something about a common meeting ground, breeding alliances, and other measures he already forgot the names of. If that was true... then perhaps he was a bit too harsh on the krogan prospects for the future. Not by much, but if this guy was the one who ended up finally uniting the krogan, then perhaps in a few hundred years or more they could pass for an almost civilized people. Maybe.
"But that's not why I'm really here." Wrex said and put his hand on Virox's shoulder. It was quite heavy. "I wanna know why you're here. With Shepard."
Virox was slightly annoyed by the forceful physical contact, but figured that the krogan would be much harder to shake off than the tiny Professor Solus. Probably more dangerous too, given the circumstances.
"I see you weren't listening either when I told you that before." He muttered just enough for Wrex to hear.
"Feh. You and I both know that's crap." Wrex scoffed, then turned around and gazed at something in the distance, somewhere behind Virox. "People don't just happen to get tangled up with her for no reason. I know I didn't."
Curiosity won over cautiousness and Virox followed suit, trying to find what Wrex was looking at. It honestly was not that hard to find. In a ruined building just a few dozen meters from Wrex's throne, he saw Shepard and Grunt through the glass, talking to that green-plated krogan from before and another one that he suspected was the shaman. There was a visible disagreement between the two groups, strong body language being the main indicator.
"I don't know what else to tell you. For once I can say that I did not speak any half-truths when I told you what I did." Virox answered, still carefully observing the scene. "If you had information the Empire was looking for and you gave it to me, it would be just as much of a success as obtaining the data from the Collector ship."
The memories suddenly came back. The image of a Collector, its four soulless eyes. Even the mere image of its 'face' was enough to conjure the feelings of pure rage. He flinched slightly, and his right hand began shaking. He grabbed it with his other hand, trying to steady it before Wrex could notice. The sound of metal plates screeching against one another caused him to wince. Whatever was wrong with him had something to do with the Collectors. If a mere mention of them could put Virox in this state, he needed to figure this thing out fast.
"I see there's something eating you, carvin." Unfortunately for him, Wrex must have noticed that something was wrong. "Heh, don't worry. Knowing Shepard, she's gonna push herself into your problems and make them her own."
"I'd rather avoid that." Virox answered, trying his best to remain calm.
"Just so you know, you're probably not getting a choice in that matter. She can be as stubborn as a krogan. In all the good ways." Wrex commented, and right as he said that, Shepard straight up headbutted the whiny green-plated krogan that kept arguing with her. "Hehehe... see what I mean?"
It was so unexpected that it actually gave Virox pause. The image of a weak and seemingly defenseless human female absolutely rocking the world of an arrogant pompous krogan clan chief was so hilarious in its absurdity that in a brief lapse of control he let out a short chuckle before quickly correcting himself.
"That's why I'll ask you again. You're free to tell me to go eat dirt of course, but I can see something's bugging you, boy." Wrex continued and looked deep into his eyes. "Why did you end up with Shepard?"
For reasons unknown to him, Virox actually felt compelled to answer. Perhaps because Wrex was not what he expected and the wisdom of the old krogan prompted him to converse more openly. It could have been him trying to break free from the isolation he ruthlessly enforced upon himself after their stunt on the Collector Ship, desperate to prevent another outburst like the one which had most likely already sealed his fate once he was recalled. Or maybe it was because this very question was on his mind ever since he was selected for the role.
Why?
Why him specifically? Surely there were better candidates. The person responsible for that selection should have been fired from his post long ago. And yet the more he pondered this question, the more he realized that amongst the dissatisfaction and many regrets he had about this assignment, there were a few truly redeeming aspects of his time spent under Shepard's command.
For starters he could finally go back to what he was good at: fighting. While the occasional merc group was not really a threat, the other foes they faced were formidable. A worthy test of his skills he acquired at a very young age.
And despite the organization he was currently working with being notorious for terrorism and xenophobia, he actually found a kind and friendly soul. Garrus may have annoyed him on several occasions, but for the first time... really ever in his life, Virox met someone who wanted to be a friend. No benefits, no conditions, no bullshit.
But after recent expeditions aiming to help resolve really personal matters between the various members of the crew, what Virox actually started to value the most was a commanding officer that genuinely cared. Military relations back in the Empire were dry and cold. It was partially a cultural thing, but one further magnified by the aftermath of the Varsaai Insurrection. Now, seeing how deeply engaged Commander Shepard was in ensuring the well-being of her crew, the weight of guilt from what he almost did to her became even greater.
"I... I don't really know." He finally replied, realizing that he had no answer. Neither for Wrex nor himself.
"Well... it's still closer to the truth than whatever you were saying before." Wrex said almost dismissively. "And don't worry. With her, you'll find what you're looking for."
Virox huffed in frustration, as he watched the green-plated krogan from before angrily sulk away. "Right now I'm really looking for violence without consequences."
"Oh? You should've said that from the start. Your tank-bred krogan's Rite will provide you with all the opportunities for unadulterated violence you'd ever need." Wrex answered with a laugh. "Speaking of which, looks like you'll be going out."
True to his words, Grunt and Shepard came into view shortly after, the latter looking slightly tired, and the former with the widest grin Virox had ever seen him make. They were accompanied by the Urdnot Shaman, who wore civilian clothing and surprisingly carried no arms at his side. This truly had to be a first on this planet.
"Virox! Let's go, we're moving out!" Shepard called out to him.
He silently complied and was about to say thanks to Wrex, but upon looking at where he used to stand, the krogan clan chief was gone. Virox did not have the luxury to search for him, so he simply joined Shepard and Grunt, who were led towards a large armored vehicle by the Shaman.
"You alright?" Commander asked him, and Virox immediately started to understand what Wrex meant with her making others people's problems her own.
"Could be better." He truthfully replied. "And it will be once we kill something."
"Hehe... now you're talking with sense, carvin." Grunt let out a low cackle, and all three of them entered the vehicle.
It was to take them to the site where Grunt's Rite was to take place.
Whatever was to happen there, Virox's only hope was for it to be bloody.
A/N: Several notes to end the chapter on. First, I fixed some timeline stuff in the first two chapters, so that Virox's age is consistent. At this point in the story he is 155 carvin years old, which is just over 220 human years (adjusted for Carvistorn's orbital period). This still makes him very young by carvin standards.
Second I'd like to address an issue I ran into while writing. Even though I did so with the Collector Ship chapters, in the future I will try to avoid copy-pasting the dialogue from the games into this fic, as I find it unimaginative and lazy (yes, I'm hating on myself right now). Instead I want to explore other characters' perspectives and thoughts as I understand them. So while I will not completely shy away from sometimes putting in dialogue from the games (as it is for the most part quite well-written) where it's more appropriate, expect more of my own interpretation of the events taking place in the games. Hopefully this will make the story better overall rather than the opposite.
And finally I think I will stick to this new 6-7k words format of chapters. This will allow me to work more consistently and not make it feel like the chapters drag on for too long. This is NOT a commitment to a proper upload schedule. I've learned my lesson well enough.