Disclaimer: I do no own Mass Effect, I do not claim to own Mass Effect, I am only doing this for fun.
Author Notes: Time just slips by me too fast right now. I really don't notice how a week slips by, and I'm too busy to even start outlining a chapter.
Episode 37: The Warlord
After Wrex ascertained that the "Urdnot Clan regalia" was indeed authentic, he took over with a certain degree of alacrity. Shepard found herself largely standing back and watching him work. First Wrex went through the database just to confirm if there were non-Krogan wares among the stacks. He found a few paintings by an Asari matriarch that Actus bought for a relatively low price, hinting that they were not first tier art. Either way they would be a little side boon, as the Alliance could send them to the university on Thessia and say the whole thing was not a complete smash and grab. Once that was out of the way, Wrex sent a message to his contact on Intai'sei. Within an hour EDI was telling her that she detected a small cargo ship coming in. Shepard could only go with Wrex to greet the arrival.
The ship ended up less of a cargo freighter and more of a small recycling scow of some indeterminate make and model. It had definitely seen better days too. Still, it had a cargo hold, and it flew. Wrex introduced the owner and pilot of the scow as Urdnot Kral. He ran a small business buying derelict ships, pulling them apart, and selling the functional parts as well as recycling the rest. The scow was his delivery truck of sorts. It was Kral who reminded Wrex that his grandfather and Wrex's own had been blood-brothers, making them second cousins. There was some posturing and glaring, but after thirty seconds Kral looked away and said something about Wrex needing to mind Wreav more than him. Wrex snorted and replied he would deal with Wreav and that was that. The two got to work moving things without saying much more in the midst.
Surprisingly it only took two runs to move everything over to Intai'sei, as Kral packed the scow right up to the proverbial gills. Wrex went with him the first time, leaving her in charge of the warehouse with the instructions to blow it up with the "big guns" if he did not contact her within three hours. He also warned her to be on the look out for a second ship swooping in, thinking to steal the other half. He also left the Clan Urdnot ceremonials with her, which told her that she was the one he trusted, not Kral.
Shepard would have wanted to help, but she knew that if she injected herself into things, she would only undermine Wrex's authority. Wrex was making a move to assert his status and he wanted to use the retrieved artifacts as leverage. Kral had mentioned someone named Wreav, was he the current clan leader? If so, then "dealing with Wreav" might just involve force, and Wrex would have to do it on his own if he was going to say he had the right to lead. Any sign of weakness would be used against him. She knew that getting help from a human could be perceived as weakness.
He waited nearly the full three hours to send her a recorded voice message to say they were on the way back. Shepard would have preferred to talk to him in person, but a recorded message was enough. She wanted to see anyone force Wrex to record something. Still, she took precautions. While Wrex did not sound under duress, she ordered EDI to monitor and scan the returning scow. EDI reported that the vessel was indeed empty with only two life signs on board, and one of them was definitely Wrex.
The scow touched down and Shepard only allowed herself to relax when she saw Wrex and Kral walking side by side, talking like chums of the 'will hit each other at random' variety. They loaded the scow for the second trip largely in silence. Shepard ended up going with Wrex while the rest of the away team returned to the Normandy. Once the scow was airborne, Kral removed his helmet, revealing ochre eyes and rather familiar red head plating, though unlike Wrex's solid single piece, Kral's still showed gaps of tough hide in the midst, hinting at his comparative youth. He was also shorter than Wrex, less rough around the edges, and less scarred. He also largely ignored her existence the whole flight.
Intai'sei's average daytime temperatures soared to the fifty degrees range, with heat waves spiking into the seventies in the dead of its summer, which lasted a long time given that the planet's orbital period was a staggering 47.8 Earth years. The planet was almost entirely a desert, with a mustard-yellow sky and clouds. There was also very little to break up the wind currents, and so it was prone to sandstorms the size of hurricanes kicking up seemingly on a whim. Whatever water there was, could not remain on the surface, though it fell in torrential night-time rains. Water trapping was very much a way of life for the scattered settlers, with many installations having extensive integrated rain collection systems, no matter what the facilities were actually for.
The scow landed on a rocky outcrop in front of a large mesa which had once been a mine of some kind. After the ore was gone, it was taken over by an interstellar long-term storage solutions company. The mine caverns formed natural environmental containment and controls that required only light airlock doors to create completely isolated storage spaces of whatever variety the customer wanted. Wrex had rented out a large chamber in a secure, monitored section, and paid extra to be alerted of any attempt at access.
Shepard stayed on the scow while they moved the goods inside. The whole time she sat on the crate that contained the chieftain's armor, seemingly intent on her omni-tool, though she was perfectly aware of everything that went on around her. Wrex had clearly omitted telling Kral who she really was, and by not letting her see the chamber he was saying, 'She's an ally… but not that close'. At the same time, the fact that he intentionally set the armor crate for her to sit on, while making it look like he grabbed the first random one, he told her that he put faith in her more subtle abilities. She chose to see everything as a krogan image campaign in the works.
The crate she had been sitting on went into the chamber last, with Wrex pretending he lost count of them until he just happened to remember that she was sitting on one. She intentionally took the blame, making herself look just the right amount of dim. It was a game, and judging from the amused rumble Wrex spared her over their comm, he knew she was playing the underling to the letter. Wrex carried the crate in, but she stayed at the shaded entrance to the storage complex, monitoring the scow. Kral went back into the cockpit, running pre-flight checks.
Wrex came back fifteen minutes later, rumbling in utter contentment across their private comm link. It was a deep sort of rumble, like the sort a big predatory cat would make while enjoying a lazy lounge in the last light of the setting sun. With no Kral in comm range and Wrex sounding like he was immensely satisfied with the day's work, Shepard knew now would be the time to tie up the loose ends and talk.
"I get the feeling you don't trust Kral. Not entirely."
Wrex looked down at her, "Now what gave you that idea?" He chuckled. "No. I am not going to trust him entirely until our agreement is sealed with more than just words."
"So… until you break bread together?"
"Krogan do not bond over food, we bond over blood. But yes." Wrex replied. "He says he's loyal to the clan chieftain's line, and that's probably true, but… that does not mean he's loyal to me, he could have his own agenda, or he could still be working for Wreav."
Shepard knew there had to be something in this for Kral. The question was what, and who did he see as more likely to get it for him? "There's that name again. Who is this Wreav?"
"My idiot broodbrother." Wrex replied.
"So… same mother only?" Shepard asked, it was a rather peculiar term to use. It would make sense if this Wreav was only a half-sibling.
"Same mother yes, maybe same father, no real way of knowing. If you ask him to spit into a cup… you better bring a big gun, because you'll need it." Wrex replied. "Understand this; Shepard… human-like monogamy was rare even before the genophage made it suicidal. Afterward… if a female said you were the father… few would dispute it. Fewer still would do a DNA test. My father acknowledged Wreav as his son. It made him look good that he got two sons from one clutch. That's what matters."
"I see," Shepard hummed. She could definitely see how having two healthy children from a single brood would make someone look good when just one surviving was something. The Krogan were actually an egg-laying species who once produced as many as one thousand fertilized eggs per year. The genophage reduced the number of those that matured and hatched to a statistical one in a thousand, with many embryos simply dying in the shell. There was nothing peculiar about the rest. Human history was full of examples of cousins and half-sibling –legitimate and otherwise– laying claims and fighting over titles. Moreover, acknowledgement from the father was basically legitimization, which meant that Wreav's claim was on equal footing with Wrex's.
She could even see how the genophage would make monogamy dangerous from the biological perspective. It risked someone being stuck with a partner who was exceptionally susceptible to the genophage's effects. That and the krogan were very competitive in everything. They had a strong instinct to establish complex ever-shifting hierarchies. Moreover, controlling reproductive access could easily become just another instrument of obtaining, maintaining, and expressing power. There was a big picture in there, and she was just beginning to see it. "Is Wreav going to be a problem?"
"If he is set on continuing along his path, then yes. He is convinced that in time we will adapt to the genophage, and maybe he's right… but I say we squander our opportunities. The older males control access to the females too tightly, and so if any of their sons manifest even the slightest adaptation against it, they are unlikely to pass it on unless they can earn status. Many die seeking it. The females have no real choice in the matter. To go against them is to run certain risks." Wrex shook his head.
Shepard had a feeling said risks involved violence, up to and including the alpha males killing the child. A spectacularly stupid act, but in an honor society reputation came first, considerations for the long-term ramifications second. If something allowed one to keep face in the short-term, it would be done, no matter how stupid the act was on the long term. She knew better than to say any of that.
"Wreav would continue all those same policies. And make no mistake, Shepard, if Clan Urdnot under his leadership was to adapt to the genophage… he would anoint the new age with the blood of ancient enemies." Wrex finished.
Shepard glanced up; she had no delusions about who they would be. "The Turians and Salarians would be in his crosshairs."
"In that order." Wrex replied.
"I don't think the galaxy needs that." She could see a very nasty possibility in the mix, though she felt rotten about how quickly she saw it. The Alliance wanted a Council seat. The Hierarchy had earned it by bearing the brunt of the Krogan Rebellions the first time. If the Krogan were to restart the rebellions, some schemers within the Alliance would take their shot at the same thing. They would start by saying that the Alliance needed to stand by their allies, all the while said allies took the initial brunt of things. Then when the krogan inevitably turned on the merchant marine, as per basic tactics employed in every war ever waged, the Alliance would join the fighting in earnest, painting it as a just war, which would placate the shallow-minded civilians. Finally, the schemers would use that as leverage to push for a disproportionate amount of credit, arguing that it was only fair, when in reality that had been something they had angled for all along. The heavy losses would be noble sacrifices, definitely not cannon-fodder.
"The Krogan don't need that." Wrex chuffed. "It would lead to our extinction. I think I have a better solution. I just need to get my clan to stop following my idiot broodbrother. This stash of goods will help, but I will probably have to put him in his place with force."
Shepard nodded. She had absolutely nothing she could say to that. "Okay… this will be a sudden topic change, but back to Kral… what are you planning there? I know that if you were going to kill him, he would be dead already... so what's on the agenda?"
Wrex rumbled, "Nothing gets by you, does it? Yes, I have no intention of killing him. There has been enough of that." He paused there as if to gather his thoughts.
"I'm all for a peaceful solution, you know me." Shepard said calmly, mostly in jest.
Wrex snorted, "Yes. I know that. In our time working together I've seen how you trust people first, though you are always ready should they betray you. That's… different from the krogan way… we expect a knife in the back first, and trust only those who prove trustworthy."
"I see."
"Survival of the strongest… That's been our way. But if we are to survive as a species, perhaps it is time for a change. I am willing to take a chance."
"But if they do move to stab you in the back…"
"I'm only making a little change; slightly less pride and slightly more… cooperation. It seems to work for you pyjacks." Wrex explained. "As for Kral… I need a small favor."
"Oh?" Shepard asked.
"Have EDI purge this location from the scow's navigation system."
Shepard blinked, surprised. Why did she not think of that herself? "Well… that's not exactly possible without me physically interfacing EDI in. You should have told me to do it sooner, while I had the chance to slip EDI in as you were shuttling crates. Best we can do now is slipping him some malicious code piggybacked onto something else. Something he'd open on the system."
"Yea, if I thought of it sooner, I would have told you. I only realized his computer would retain these coordinates too late. This… subterfuge thing is not my usual method. That said, I know how to get him to open something on his system. He peruses Fornax. Moreau got a large collection. Everyone knows about it. Ask him for some rare Asari issues … and maybe human, with the five-sensory package. That requires more processing power than an omni-tool can have."
Shepard could not help but wonder, just how large was Joker's porn stash that the crew knew of it? "Well, EDI can probably spoof some promotional offer… I'll let them work out those details." Shepard was not a prude by any definition. She was not surprised that Wrex suggested giving Kral human issues. Kral might have never even been around humans, which might actually work better to pique his curiosity.
"How quickly can they rig it up?" Wrex wondered.
"Knowing EDI, and if you're right about Joker…" Shepard paused. "Fifteen minutes… twenty if Joker is recalcitrant." If it was something specific like purging a navigation system on an old model ship that has not been updated in a while, EDI would quickly scan the system remotely, and then write a virus that could auto-execute to delete the coordinates. Joker was not going to be happy about being snitched on by Wrex, and to her at that. Well, he would have to learn that there was no keeping a secret on the Normandy indefinitely, and she was not above turning raunchy magazines into a tool either.
"Good. After this Moreau will be able to justify having that collection, instead of pretending it does not exist, so he can thank me too." Wrex added, clearly amused.
Shepard nodded without saying another word. She could not believe she was, in fact, about to turn raunchy magazines into a means to an end. This was definitely a 'likely to raise an eyebrow' solution. She reached up to her helmet comm controls and made the call.
Kral departed soon after, and when his ship left orbit EDI notified her that she had sent the Trojan horse message, making it look like it came as a typical comm buoy transmission rather than a direct ship-to-ship tightbeam burst. The krogan would not know that a stealthy Alliance warship slipped him a virus-laden email as a parting gift. Shepard knew full well that there was a slim chance that Kral would not take the bait, but Wrex seemed content with the fact that the virus had been sent at all. Shepard suspected that Wrex had a bit of conflicting opinion, on the one side he was wary of Kral, but on the flipside, he was trying to be more trusting. She was not going to point that out to him.
With EDI having finished her task, Shepard asked her to send down an auto-pilot shuttle for pickup. After that there was little else to do but stand in the shade of the storage facility's entrance and wait. Even with the environmental regulation and pressurization of her suit her medium-grade armor was dark-colored, and so the flexible undersuit absorbed every ounce of solar radiation to touch it. Medium-grade gear had a limit of how much it could do. It was either handling temperature or having a cloak to go with her kinetic shields. There were no medium-grade suits that could provide the entire package; the power units were not large enough. She could not wear a heavy suit like Wrex, as it would hamper her. A larger battery was added weight and bulk, and neither helped sneaking around, even before one considered that tightly-fitted heavy ceramic plates made more noise when moving. She already had to mind air flow directions against everyone except asari or quarian. She did not need to also mind how interlocked heavy ceramics clicked and clacked.
"I am surprised that Kryik is not flying that shuttle," Wrex said, breaking a silence that had lasted a good five minutes after she had told him that the shuttle was coming.
"There you go again." Shepard replied blandly.
Wrex harrumphed, "Sure. But I would think he'd come running. It is fun watching you dance around each other. And then there is Vakarian, he's almost as bad."
"You're full of it, Wrex. I have no idea what you're talking about." Shepard turned away, shaking her head; the krogan was definitely in the obnoxiously good sort of mood to be baiting at her like this.
Wrex laughed, and Shepard knew in an instant that he did not buy her obliviousness. Admittedly, she would not blame him; her effort was mediocre at best as she was not oblivious. Wrex thought there was something between her and Nihlus? Well she supposed their ease around each other might be misconstrued, but how did Garrus fit in? A chevron indicating an Alliance signature lit up over her helmet visor's HUD as her suit sensors picked up the shuttle coming into range. She turned and watched as the craft grew from a large dark speck against the sky into a familiar shape. How many more thought there was something between her and Nihlus or Garrus? She would have to keep an ear down to that rail. Such rumors could not be allowed to spread.
Five minutes later the Kodiak stopped, aligned with the now-vacant landing pad, and began to ease down. The air was already so hot that the shuttle's thruster wash did not cause it to ripple. Shepard moved toward it just as soon as the bottom plates made contact with the pad and the thrusters shut off. And while it took less than a minute to traverse the distance between the shadows and the shuttle, the oppressive heat still sank through the weave of her undersuit and the padding underneath to burn against her skin. The suit's computer flashed a warning that its cooling systems could not keep up, and internal temperatures were rising.
As soon as she was within five meters of the shuttle, the doors began to open. Shepard did not wait and ducked in as soon as the door was open wide enough. Wrex stepped aboard about twenty seconds after and slammed his palm on the door controls which was the rough way of telling the hatch to close. He moved toward the benches with a sort of content ease and sat without doing up the safety belts.
Shepard paused by the door to tap in an acknowledgement command to the VI, telling it that everyone was now on board before she took a seat directly in front of Wrex. She likewise made no move for the harness. The Kodiak's ventral thrusters kicked into gear and the craft shuddered as it lifted off the landing pad. A moment later there was the familiar kick of the inertial dampener field as the nose angled up, the main drive kicked in, and they were off.
As the craft gained altitude she reached up to pull off her helmet and set it down on the seat next to her. Wrex had slumped into his seat and reached up to take off his own. The silence seemed to hang, though she realized then and there that there was something left to discuss. Shepard was of the sort to project where a situation could go, and right then it would not take much to see the inevitable future. Wrex would not be making any claim on his clan aboard the Normandy. A selfish part of her did not want to let him go, but Shepard trampled down that part with extreme prejudice for less before, this would not be any different. He was an atypical bedfellow and friend to have, and someone much more Machiavellian would say he was more of a liability than an asset, but Shepard had her own definition of liabilities and assets. No friend was ever more of the former than the latter in her books.
"You are staring and I can practically hear your brain working from here, Shepard."
Shepard grinned, "You're right. I'm just going to say it… I know you'll be leaving the Normandy. I'm just wondering how soon, and what I can do to help."
"I need to return to Tuchanka, yes, but there are still some things left undone. I can't show up and challenge Wreav for his title. I need a krantt, loyal allies who will stand with me. Kral might be part of it… but he will not be enough. I need to figure out who else is unhappy with Wreav."
"I don't suppose I can help." Shepard mused.
Wrex laughed, "Appreciate the thought, but no. This will be settled in the Krogan manner. No outsiders allowed. I need to look for those whom Wreav wronged, but also those who would not oppose the changes I deem necessary. I will probably have to crack some skulls, and I doubt Wreav will surrender his power peacefully."
Shepard nodded. It would be a daunting task, but Wrex had a lifespan on his side. Did his brother have biotics as well? Shepard did not think it was her place to ask, but if not, then Wrex would have that as an advantage. "I sincerely wish you success, Wrex." There was little that needed to be said there.
He nodded.
"When you do succeed, hopefully you'll remember to send a message." Shepard added.
"Hah. When. And you say you are a bad diplomat. Well- when I succeed… you can come and visit. We'll break bread. You'll have to bring your own though. Ours is a little tough for non-krogan."
Shepard could not help but grin, "I'll make a memo of that." It would figure that Wrex would use her turn of phrase on her. Silence lapsed between them, and soon after Shepard knew that Wrex had lapsed into his thoughts, so that was the end of that conversation.
When the Kodiak docked with the Normandy, Shepard was entirely unsurprised to see both Nihlus and Garrus down in the shuttle bay. As loathe as she was to admit it, Wrex's jests shifted her perception. She could not help but wonder if there was indeed something more to their over-protective antics. The antics had started early and peculiarly only aimed at her. Was Wrex picking up cues she could not?
The Kodiak slid into its usual position, smooth as softened butter, and eased onto the landing pad before its thrusters shut off and the mass effect core in the craft's belly went silent. A moment later the doors began to open. Shepard did not wait for Wrex as she picked up her helmet, and as she stepped out she slipped it under her arm. Even from a distance she could see Nihlus' eyes narrow as he less than surreptitiously inspected her armor. "Nihlus," She greeted. That served to get his eyes to snap up and off her armor.
"Shepard," he replied, warm and rumbling.
She was not falling for that sweet rumbling tone, he had been checking her for damage, and she knew what he would have done if he found any.
"She's alright, you two. I wouldn't let anyone harm her. Not before, and certainly not now." Wrex stated bluntly, without making eye contact, as he passed by toward his corner of the shuttle bay.
Nihlus glared at the krogan's retreating back, but his arms dropped to his sides as he pushed off the pillar he had been using as a support to get closer.
"Shepard," Garrus greeted warmly, already at her side.
"Garrus." Shepard replied as she turned and began to make her way toward the elevator. She was utterly unsurprised to hear two sets of footsteps follow her. Wrex had already ducked into his little private space in the corner, but Shepard knew he would hear everything if she started talking down here. She was not about to entertain him by talking down the two turians following her within his ear shot. A dressing down did not have to include a dose of public shaming.
The elevator door opened and she stepped aboard. Nihlus and Garrus followed, standing on either side of her like the galaxy's most loyal lieutenants. After she tapped the panel for her loft, Garrus added a command for deck three. The doors closed and the cabin moved. Shepard sighed, "Really you two. I am alright. This is getting a little… egregious. I'm not made of spun glass."
"I am not apologizing, Shepard," Nihlus replied.
"Of course you're not." Shepard was not the least bit surprised; she could count the number of times Nihlus apologized on one hand. Moreover he largely avoided actually using the word 'sorry'. She had never heard it from him before Taetrus.
"I am not going to apologize either." Garrus added. "I agree with Kryik on this. Neither of us is happy with this whole situation. Not with the mess on the Citadel."
Shepard knew what mess he meant. Had they actually talked though? They must have talked at least in part, because it was exceedingly rare for Nihlus and Garrus to ever agree on something. It was even rarer for them to be double-teaming to lecture her. It was triple rare for Garrus to display anything even vaguely resembling disrespect for her authority.
"We are worried, Shepard." Garrus changed tack in an instant, shifting from someone with a junior position doing something faintly insubordinate, to best friend trying to get past a wall of stubborn with a jackhammer of warm and fuzzy, meant to induce guilt. Nihlus merely nodded, confirming that Garrus was indeed talking for the both of them.
Shepard hoped he realized her wall of stubborn was beyond his ability to breach. If she really set her mind to it, her defenses would put the ancient walls of Constantinople to shame. Still, something had to be said for turian stubbornness, add to the fact that they had a leg to stand on. This whole thing was ugly, even she knew that, and because of that she could not really tell them off either. The elevator opened on deck three, stirring Shepard to action. "We definitely need to talk about this, but not in the elevator."
Garrus moved to step out, but paused and turned back on the other side. Nihlus followed him quietly, his movements the sort that said he was not the least bit bothered by any of what went on during the ride. It was a study of personality contrasts there; Nihlus still wore his pride like a mask whenever he ran even the slightest chance of an outsider witnessing anything. She was not buying it though. If he was indeed apathetic, he would not have gone tag-team against her with Garrus. It sort of bothered her. Just what was going on in their heads that made them behave like this? Had Wrex said nothing Shepard would not have started looking for clues she now thought she had overlooked. He got her reanalyzing things.
Shepard shook her head and stepped deeper into the cabin, allowing the door to close between them. She would have to make some time to talk about this, but not right now, not in the elevator when she was still in her armor, covered with dust, and frankly tired after a not-too-difficult bust still long operation. She also needed to think things out. She doubted Nihlus would have told Garrus about what happened on Taetrus, but on the flipside, if the two were ever going to agree on anything, prides would have to be swallowed. The question of whether Nihlus had shared that piece of information was important. If she stumbled on it, and Garrus did not know, it would break up their alliance against her, but she would feel like the lowest scum for using it. It would not be worth it. She needed to know where they stood and handle things carefully.
It took about an hour for Shepard to shed her armor and have a quick bite to eat, but then she went to the OD, intent on her end-of-day message checks. EDI had not reported anything major, but it was her routine to check the minor as well. She also needed to send a preliminary word to Admiral Hackett, make sure he knew she had failed to make the arrest, but the illicit base still needed removal.
One foot past the doors she stopped cold. Nihlus was lounging on his customary spot under the viewports, reading something on his omni-tool. Garrus sat on the couch extension, as far away from the Spectre as physically possible, working on something on his own omni-tool, fingers pecking at the keys at a steady rhythm, though he looked up when he heard the door open. She had just walked into a clearly coordinated ambush. "Why am I not surprised?" Shepard asked as she drew near enough so that she would not have to speak loudly. The question was equal parts actual as well as rhetorical.
"The day someone surprises you, Shepard, is the day they name Vakarian the Primarch of Palaven." Nihlus replied blandly.
Garrus spared the Spectre a cold look, but did not comment.
Nihlus ignored him as he dropped his feet to the floor and sat up.
Shepard slipped past Garrus and sat where the couch and extension met, effectively putting herself between the two turians. It was obvious that Nihlus could not help but snipe at Garrus, even when they were nominally working against her. A buffer had to be put in place, even if she was to be the buffer herself. "Alright you two, we started on this in the elevator, so let's finish it. I need to contact Admiral Hackett to have a team sent to the warehouse, and then I want to check my mail and get some sleep." Right then Shepard had little patience for preambles. Maybe she was prissier than necessary, but she was much too tired to bother containing it.
"Fine. We will finish this." Nihlus agreed, his tone changing by the syllable. The jest that teased Garrus replaced with chilled professionalism. "Tali told me about a conversation you had with Wrex down there."
Shepard had to force herself to contain her expression. "Told you?" she wondered, intentionally keeping her tone flat and calm. Had Nihlus asked Tali for his information? Was Tali the first person he went to, or the only one who would talk? Shepard suspected Kaidan, Ashley, and Richard would not have told him a thing. They could say they would not talk behind their commanding officer's back, and that would be that. Shepard could not help but be annoyed at the thought that Nihlus would go after Tali just because she might be the only one he could get information out of.
"Tali told him everything of her own volition, Commander." Garrus stepped in. "I was there, and that is how I ended up involved. Kryik had to tell me everything after that."
Shepard blinked, Tali did that? She looked Garrus in the eye, but he did not break eye contact, and she knew he was not lying. He had an absolutely rotten poker face. She very much doubted he could lie convincingly to save his life. It was Nihlus who was the more accomplished practitioner of that art. Skills at concocting and living with lies were up there on the essential qualifications for his job. He also had all the examples one ought to need for it.
"Shepard, Tali thought she was doing the right thing. She said Wrex admitted that had he known about the whole situation… well you really should have told Wrex that you could not do this job without me being there. Not after what happened on the Citadel. Like this I cannot say it was a job I picked up on the side. I was not there." Nihlus explained.
Shepard turned to face Nihlus, "I should have told Wrex I would not do the job without you, yes, it would have made things even easier." Shepard replied, intentionally correcting his choice of words. It was hair splitting, but she did not like the 'could not' used here. "Nihlus, I'll be blunt with you. I calculated the risks going in, and I took them. You know Actus was hardly a law-abiding, poster-boy for Hierarchy principles. He was in Alliance space without permission and that warehouse was full of ill-gotten goods. He was wanted by the Hierarchy for tax evasion as well. I told Admiral Hackett about the job, so as far as anyone is concerned, this was a legal arrest gone badly and the goods were seized in the process." She had even staged evidence for that argument, but they would not need to be told that. She expected Nihlus to figure out the game on his own, after all, it would not do for her to admit out loud that she was playing a role again. Shepard was not so stupid as to incriminate herself.
"Alright, perhaps you are correct. Still, I am wondering what you were thinking here. Actually helping Wrex with this?" Nihlus asked.
Shepard blinked; did he really just go there? "I repeat, Actus was hardly paying the rent. The Alliance does not want pirates, thieves, and other shady types this close to Pinnacle Station. Yes it looks very awkward coming so soon after the murder on the Citadel, with fingers all pointing at Alliance involvement… still, we are not going to sit on our hands." That was her excuse and she would stick to it.
"That is not the issue, Shepard. It is more what those goods are, and what Wrex might intend to do with them," Nihlus replied. "To some, you have now armed Clan Urdnot."
It took a moment but it finally hit Shepard. There was a thread of considerations that she had overlooked in her initial assessment, and Nihlus was pulling on it. He was right of course. Before the items had been confiscated goods and war profits, they had been weapons and armor. The Krogan Demilitarized Zone Accords stipulated the krogan could not pool weapons in any significant manner. It was illegal to sell them any large quantity of weapons. There were troops still stationed at monitoring posts within the DMZ to watch for any sign the accords being broken. "Yes, one might argue that I'm facilitating krogan re-armament. But really… some of those armors and weapons have not seen proper maintenance in close to a thousand years! Does anyone really think they're still usable?" Shepard asked blandly.
"Go tell the politicians that. Some will assume that everything was kept at Hierarchy-standards of readiness," Garrus replied.
"That would be the thought that scares them the most. After the idea of some Human-Krogan alliance," Nihlus added.
Garrus nodded.
Shepard blinked, stunned. A Human-Krogan alliance? It would take someone far more paranoid than she was to think her helping the Wrex was actually the Alliance intentionally helping the Hierarchy's old enemy, or that there would be the forging of any treaties to follow. Still, she could see the angle. Someone so paranoid would see tactical benefit in such a move. It would layer on top of what was going on already. Still, she could not help but think such an assumption was stretching it, even for the worst politicians. "Yes, because one act of transferring stolen property to its rightful owner equals alliance." She could not help the sarcasm dripping from her tone.
"Relax, Shepard. I was pointing out what some would think. It is an over-stretch of the facts, so yes; it is highly doubtable that anyone would push it. That said, if you continue to make these moves, you might just build the argument," Nihlus went on. "The Council wants to keep the Krogan from becoming a potential problem. Returning their weapons and armor is a technical violation of the demilitarization accords. However, if it is as you say, the goods are no longer usable; you can argue that you are returning cultural artifacts, and the accords would not apply. You need to be aware of that little point."
Shepard nodded. That was the dilemma right there. Were the materials from Actus' warehouse classified as weapons or cultural artifacts? The items were actually both, and everyone would know it, the fight would be over which function superseded the other. She hated that sort of political and legal hair-splitting, which was probably the reason she overlooked it. "Nihlus, you said that the Council wants to keep a lid on a potential problem, but I have to ask..." she paused to take a deep breath, this was going to be a nuclear bomb of cynical bluntness, "Do they really think that space stations can warn them of re-armament if the krogan really want to re-arm? The Krogan DMZ is a mess. No major manufacturing will crop up there. The Council is not monitoring what is going on in the Terminus. So if the krogan wanted to re-arm, there is nothing to stop them." As far as she was concerned, the enforcement was just the Council making sure they continued to look important.
Nihlus chuckled, "Glorious is it not?"
The Spectre was perfectly aware of the point she had just made, she should have known. "Alright… since we're bouncing ideas here, let's turn this on its head. It seems to me that the Council does not want the krogan to have manufacturing capacity of that sort. What would said capacity require?"
"They would need to cease petty clan warfare," Garrus slipped in. "No factory can operate if it is in constant danger of being caught up in clan-on-clan violence."
"Bluntly put, yes." Nihlus echoed.
"It would have to be replaced with centralization, and that process would actually increase the disorder for a while." Shepard mused, the words tumbling out of her mouth of their own accord. It was really just an exercise in progression. Trying to figure out what would cause a desired effect. "So there's a reason why the Council's fears are utterly unfounded."
"Except, I think Wrex knows he would need to push for a centralized power structure of some kind." Nihlus added, calmly as can be.
It did not take much to know where Nihlus was leading with that one. "Wrex knows the issues his people face, and he thinks the krogan need to move past them if they are to survive. He might just turn things toward centralization, yes. He does not want a renewal of the rebellions though. He told me that much himself." Shepard said, just as calmly. Still, that was the problem, was it not? He told her that much, but the Council would not take her word for it. They would remain set in their old ways. The krogan forming a centralized government would be a radical shift.
Shepard hummed as her mind automatically ran down the proverbial tracks. She knew enough about feudal societies to see how things would start. If Wrex forced Clan Urdnot to change their ways in whatever manner, it would gall some, but he would find allies among those who would try his way, simply because under the old ways they had nothing at all. If Wrex spent some time cultivating those allies, making sure they had everything to lose to a restored 'old order', he would quickly accrue territory and manpower. Then, he would have to survive the inevitable and defend his holdings from the assault of the old order trying to re-assert itself. Some of the more powerful clans would not accept his changes willingly, because they stood to lose power. However, if Wrex could defeat them, he would accrue even more standing and prestige. With that he could say that he meshed old krogan tradition with new reform.
"Can he actually create a centralized krogan government?" Garrus wondered.
Shepard knew why Garrus sounded so doubtful at the moment. "Perhaps." She replied. "I would not discount the possibility as preposterous, Garrus. I do not claim to be able to see the future, but I know something of the past. Unlikelier things have happened. The Roman state started as one little city and evolved into a highly-centralized empire that spanned parts of three continents. A mix of good leadership, sound policy, brazen audacity, and luck carried the day before. If Wrex has the right mix, they will carry the day again."
"Fair enough," Garrus conceded.
"I think it is safe to assume you wish him well." Nihlus slipped in.
"Of course," Shepard replied without a second of thought.
"It helps that his victory would mean he owes you."
"Owes? No." Shepard replied. "It is nothing more than a personal alliance of sorts. If you are thinking this might become that Human-Krogan thing the Council does not want, then you can tell them to sleep easy. Wrex's connection is only to me. The most I can get, as a favor exchange, is probably a few krogan if I need some Heretic heads cracked somewhere. With more loyalty than typical, but still hired as mercenaries."
"Or prime real estate on Tuchanka." Garrus added, smiling.
Shepard laughed, "Or that."
"Now that we are talking about it, I can not help but be curious about what type of government they would develop." The former detective went on, shifting track with necessary abruptness.
Shepard knew what he was doing; the topic of favors had been settled. He wanted to shift things to a sort of benign speculation to diffuse the tension. Government frameworks could be discussed without walking eggshells. Any discussion of the Council and their machinations naturally involved lots of eggshells.
"That is something to wonder," Nihlus conceded, though he sounded bored.
Shepard had a good idea of where things would go. "They are used to leadership by clan chieftains. I highly doubt that tradition can be broken easily, so we can rule out all forms of government where power is shared, or which don't have a single clear leader whose mandate comes from a title of prestige."
"So no democratic or parliamentary systems," Nihlus mused.
Shepard nodded, "No Hierarchy-esque meritocracy either. The krogan are still an honor society. Personal prestige will continue to trump loftier abstracts," Shepard added. "I think the current system is already close to a collection of petty monarchies. These will amalgamate into bigger ones. As for the exact details, Earth's history will show you dozens of different ways in which monarchs exercised and justified their power. I know too little about Krogan customs and traditions to comfortably pick the likely end-shape. But only a monarchy respects the traditions that I do know about. That's the only way centralization will work. There will be no forcing the Krogan into any other form of government. An attempt will be seen as meddling, and lead to resentment."
"Someone meddled with them already." Garrus hummed thoughtfully. "The Salarians dumped galactic civilization on them and called it uplifting. We all know how that ended."
"Crass way to put it, but that does not make it less true." Nihlus agreed calmly.
Shepard nodded quietly. There was nothing she could add to that. What Garrus said was essentially true, if a gross over-simplification of things. A silence lapsed in the room, and Shepard thought that was telling enough. The issues at hand had been covered. In hindsight she realized that Nihlus probably orchestrated everything to make sure she had considered all the angles. Shepard would have thanked him for that, if her personal pride allowed it right then. After all, she felt like she had overlooked a rather important possibility. Had she indeed thought of everything, she would have been more inclined to press Wrex to allow Nihlus to tag along. But there was no use crying over spilled milk now. The only thing left to her was to hope Nihlus was right, and no one would stretch the political nonsense quotient by arguing that she was re-arming the krogan, or that the Alliance was aiming to make friends against the Hierarchy.
Still, now that she was on the tracks, she had to think about what the Council might not want. She could see them not wanting to the krogan to unify. They reaped certain unpleasant benefits from the disunity. Foremost, if the krogan were too busy killing each other, they would not become a force capable of pressing for rights and reparations. They would not upset the Council's beloved status quo. The galaxy forgot that before the Council made contact with the Hierarchy, at the height of the Krogan Rebellions, the krogan had been the Council's muscle. The Turians had become the peacekeepers and watchmen only after the Krogan lost favor. There was a certain fringe benefit in keeping them down. As far as Shepard was concerned, the Council's realpolitik dealings could be far shadier than her on her worst days. She was not wearing blinders when it came to them, and fortunately it seemed like neither was Nihlus.
"Well, I think we need to get moving, Vakarian. We took up enough of Shepard's time." Nihlus announced, breaking the silence.
"Thank you for hearing us out, Commander." Garrus said.
"Of course," Shepard replied.
"One last thing though. Go easy on Tali over this. She was doing what she thought was best for everyone." Nihlus got to his feet as he spoke.
Garrus followed him without saying a word.
"I was not going to say anything," Shepard replied. Did he really think that she would go after Tali? It did not take much to realize that the girl would have wanted to help. It even made sense why Tali went to Nihlus; she probably thought he could still do something about things. Shepard would be the worst sort of leader to come down on the quarian girl for that. Sure, there was no fixing this per se, but the thought counted.
"Well I guess that is all. Have a good night, Shepard." Nihlus added.
"Have a good night, Nihlus, Garrus." Shepard replied.
The two left the room side-by-side, practically the picture of conspirators beating a hasty retreat before their victory went up in flames. Shepard let them have that victory. She slumped deeper into the corner of the couch, resting her head on the top of the backrest and heaved a sigh. She was becoming a bit of a pushover, was she not?
Well, if she was honest, then she was really too tired to address things, and moreover they had good reasons to be worried and overprotective. They knew exactly what was going on with the killings, the framing, and Cerberus. Out of all the people on the Normandy, Nihlus and Garrus knew the most of her troubles. She could not expect them not to worry, or try and do something. If she thought about it, that instinctual desire against the inability to do anything was what might have caused the overprotective streak. They were both very loyal, even Nihlus, who would scoff and laugh if anyone said he was that devoted to anyone. She had learned by now that much of his hot air was in fact posturing. Then there was Garrus. He could say he was a bad turian, but there was no doubt in her mind that he was devoted to whatever he set his mind to. He chose to follow her, and now he was going to the logical extremes with it.
Shepard smiled to herself, perhaps she was rationalizing, but that could only come from the way she wanted to view things. The thought of them acting like this, even putting aside their differences, out of worry for her, warmed some little part of her, the part that had never fully let go of some of the sillier notions of someone much more naïve than her. It was only when she was drop-dead tired and alone that she could entertain those thoughts.
"Oh well… break's over." She grumbled to no one in particular as she straightened in her seat and got to her feet before making her way toward the COMCON.
As it was, Shepard ended up only having a quick five minute conversation with Admiral Hackett. He was busy with something back at Arcturus and could not spare any more time than that. Five minutes was enough to tell him that the job on Tuntau was done, and that a clean up crew needed to be sent to tie up the loose ends. She made sure to note that the location had been sanitized, and she doubted there would be anyone coming in to avenge Actus, but any Alliance crew send in to clean up would still come ready for unwelcome guests. Shepard promised a detailed official report in the next twenty-four hours.
Once she was back in the OD, she checked for other messages and then handled a few clerical basics with EDI regarding the operation. Shepard wanted the suit recordings from Team Bravo on her terminal in the next eighteen Terran hours. She was generous in giving them the absolute latest timeframe in which she could still work, knowing that Kaidan and Ashley would have theirs in sometime after breakfast, with Richard following about an hour or so later.
When she checked her emails, she found only one that was not just spam or a thinly-veiled phishing attempt involving a long lost relative from her father's side leaving her millions of credits in inheritance. The problem was that her biological father would not know much about her past perhaps the fact that his donation had in fact been used, and that he did in fact have a biological child out there somewhere. Even then, not all donors wanted to be notified of that. Still, her tired mind found the whole thing good for a laugh.
The one good message was an email from her mother, asking why she was being a stranger. Shepard groaned upon seeing it. She knew that she had lapsed in their regular communication in the last couple of weeks. There was just always something to do that occupied her attention totally. Now, after Taetrus, and with things on the Citadel being as they were, she would not be surprised if her mother's instincts told her something was off, even if she did not know all the details. Shepard was quite amazed that her mother had not found out about her concussion yet. There would have been an entirely different email had she found out.
Admiral Hackett knew about it, so it looked like he simply did not mention it. She could understand why, he probably thought it was her duty to tell her mother, or that it was a private thing. Yes, she ought to have mentioned it, but Shepard was hesitant. She knew what would happen if she did. Hannah would automatically assume Nihlus was at fault. Shepard did not want to lie to her mother, but she did not want to throw Nihlus under the bus by admitting the truth either. As far as she was concerned, that affair had been signed and sealed. Nihlus had apologized; there was no need to pursue it further.
In the end, Shepard deemed some reply to be better than none, thus her message said that she was just very busy, which was the truth, even if it left out way too many details. She mentioned doing a job on Tuntau, because that affair was benign enough to discuss, compared to Taetrus that is. She included just enough details, specifically on the sort of business Actus had been participating in, to make the whole thing sound somewhat important. If her mother was really curious, she could just ask to read the full report. There was nothing so secret about this operation that the admiral would keep it from her. Overall, the message was her too thinly-veiled an attempt to throw her mother off the scent of the real problems. It was the absolutely best she could come up with on short notice and while tired.
After that she told EDI to tell Joker to take them back to the Citadel at his own leisure, meaning in the morning, when he had his sleep and breakfast. The Normandy was hardly hiding in the orbit of Intai'sei anymore. Everyone with good enough sensors would spot them, but the system was in Alliance space, so it was not all that peculiar that an Alliance ship was around.
She was up again in time for breakfast. Food and coffee went side-by-side with making a mental checklist all the other things that had to be done. First and foremost she had to make sure her gear was maintained. The vast quantities of sand on Tuntau and Intai'sei meant that there was dust all over her things. Her weapons had to be checked and maintained as well. She ended up in the shuttle bay, working side by side with Ashley who was running similar maintenance on Team Bravo's weapons. Kaidan and Richard pitched in and spent the time off to the side, cleaning armors.
Wrex sat in his corner, splitting his attention between whatever everyone else was doing, and whatever he was doing on his omni-tool. Shepard did not ask, as there was no need to. Given that they were in FTL and thus without an extranet connection, Wrex could not be sending messages of any sort. He was probably still poring over Actus' database, trying to memorize it or something. There had been a lot of crates in that warehouse, and Shepard could see the logic in becoming more familiar with what one had off-hand.
Tali came down about twenty minutes later, probably having seen them from the deck above. She found her own crate to sit on and spent the entire time Shepard was down there working on what looked to be code on her omni-tool. Thought by far not a coder herself, Shepard knew what code looked like, in any language. When Shepard asked, Tali explained that there was a flaw in her drone's VI's targeting algorithms that she needed to find and eliminate, or else Chatika would never shoot straight.
Shepard did not say it, not to shoot the girl down, but she knew it may not be entirely possible because of the inherent limitations of VI programming. A virtual intelligence operated differently from a full AI with adaptive learning algorithms, even beyond the fact that a VI was no more self-aware than a toaster. It was like comparing a calculator to a super computer on the bleeding edge of computing. The programming involved was radically different as well. Many VIs operated on a core of simpler conditional logic, basically a long exhaustive list of if-then-else statements. Unfortunately, there was a limit of how many could be programmed without causing debilitating conflicts, as a VI could not do exceptions very well. Furthermore, they had to go through that list to figure out an appropriate response each time, and that took processing power and time. That was fine for a VI like Avina, but it was woefully inadequate in combat, where conditions could change at any moment. There was a reason why VI-operated consumer robots were not relied upon in active roles within the military. They could stand guard over a room or handle petty criminals, but anyone with any sort of training would dispatch them easily. Shepard believed that while Chatika might get to the point of being a very useful tool, and it would be a very good learning tool for Tali, but it would never be a substitute for an actual trained soldier.
After that Shepard turned to her armor. Cleaning it took a good two hours, because despite how much as she would've liked to, there was no simply laying it out and hosing it down. The undersuit weave took the longest, as the carbon-fiber filament top layers retained a lot of fine dust. Care had to be taken in order to get all of it out, as leaving the grit would allow it to abrade the fibers over time. The undersuit was supposed to keep the wearer pressurized and separate from environmental hazards at all times. There were dire consequences to springing little leaks. Exposure to toxic planetary environment or the void was not something to make light of.
Ashley finished with Bravo's weapons before Shepard finished with her suit. Shepard was not above asking for help when she really needed it just to save some time. Thus they ended up working on the suit together. Ashley finished cleaning the ceramics by the time Shepard finally got the last of the grit out of the weave. Shepard thanked her before she excused herself, as she still needed to write that report for Admiral Hackett. She wanted to finish it in time for when they arrived at the Hydra system, so they could link up to a comm buoy and transmit it prior to making the jumps. The bandwidth at Hydra ought to be freer than the one at Widow.
Writing the report took the remainder of the time the Normandy was in FTL, longer than a report on a minor mission ought to have taken. Shepard just managed to finish it in time to make her own transmission deadline. The problem was that she had to be careful in the wording and keep the details straight without hinting at anything untoward that might cast doubt on her cover-up. She felt rotten about lying, but in her defense, there was no winning with the truth here. Admiral Hackett would know that the report had been sugar-coated, but he had no reason to come after her for it.
Thus Shepard was still in the OD when the Normandy cleared the final relay jump into the Serpent Nebula. The Citadel materialized just off the viewport, along with dozens of tiny glimmering dots of ship lights against the pink halo of the nebula's gas. The door opened behind her and she looked back.
"Shepard," Wrex greeted.
"Wrex. Something I can do for you?" She asked.
The krogan rumbled something inarticulate as he stopped next to her desk. "I finished looking over that database. Half of the clans whose things are in it are gone. Some fought to the last in the rebellions. Others were the worst hit by the genophage."
"I'm sorry, Wrex." Shepard replied, that was absolutely the only thing she could think to say right then, even if she knew it sounded trite and cliché.
Wrex snorted, "Do not lower yourself by apologizing for turians and salarians. They don't deserve someone like you apologizing for them."
She grinned, "Duly noted." It would figure that the krogan would misunderstand that. However the way he took the words showed something interesting. Foremost there was a cultural difference there, but more than that, Wrex held her in some considerable esteem if he thought she was lowering herself by sounding like she was apologizing for the actions of the Hierarchy and the Salarian Union all those centuries ago.
"Now that's that out of the way, we can talk why I really came up here. This will be my last trip to the Citadel with you. I need to organize a transport to Tuchanka. That will take time and I will not expect you to wait around."
"I see. Well I'll be honest, Wrex; I will miss your brand of humor."
The krogan snorted, "My humor? What, you won't miss my ability to go through enemies in a way no one else can?"
"I was being appreciative of your other qualities, Wrex, not just your superior combat prowess." Shepard replied, without missing a beat. "It ought to go without saying that I do appreciate your unique manner of handling whoever, to their misfortune, happens to stand in your way."
Wrex outright laughed. "Flattery, Shepard? I didn't know you liked me that much. But you know what I will miss? You always put things into such… clever words."
Shepard smiled. She was going to just miss this weird norm of theirs; even Wrex saying suggestive things was entirely normal for him. Shepard glanced out the viewport; the Normandy was already approaching the open end of the Citadel. Did Joker get final clearances yet? Or would he establish a holding pattern outside the arms until he did? When the ship crossed the tip of a ward and continued into the space between the arms, Shepard had her answer. Joker was already moving them into docking alignment.
Shepard sighed and turned away from the viewport. "I really do appreciate what you've done for me, between the bits of information and helping everyone out on Solcrum. You've become one of the most trustworthy allies I could hope for, and a very dear friend."
"You're trying to make me blush? I'll save you the effort. It's physically impossible, hide's too thick. Really, I should be saying that to you, Shepard. Few would have even allowed me to do what we did on Tuntau, knowingly. Fewer still would have joined me down there."
"Just glad to be of help, I always say that."
"You always mean it too." Wrex reached behind his back, to where he normally kept his shotgun, and withdrew a long rectangular object wrapped up in tanned varren hide. There was no mistaking varren leather for anything else, because it had distinct scaling. The material looked supple like cotton cloth, yet weathered, and even a little singed around the edges. "Here. I give you a gift as a token of my respect. For a female who is fierce and tenacious in combat. Human you may be, but you fight like a krogan."
Shepard's jaw loosened in utter surprise as Wrex unwrapped the covering, revealing a blade and scabbard of some kind. Its size would have made it an elongated dagger for a krogan, but for her it looked more like a short sword. The decoration aesthetic was rough, the hilt was wrapped in black varren leather cut into thin cord and wound tightly before being cured so that it shrank and tightened to the grip. The grip underneath was contoured for krogan fingers, and the hand-guard was just one blocky yet rounded off extension on one side, just enough to prevent the wielder's hand from sliding onto the blade. Both guard and pommel were also roughly etched with geometric lines. The scabbard was covered in similar black varren leather, though it looked to be just a continuous piece carefully stretched and curved around before being cured into place. The top edge and pointed tip were covered in more engraved silver-hued metal.
There was nothing particularly exquisite looking about the weapon, certainly nothing screamed that it was priceless, but Shepard instantly knew of only one place where it could have come from. The cache they had secured on Tuntau. "I can't accept that, Wrex. It's worth something to someone."
"Well you are right, it is worth something to someone, but I know I can trust you to keep it safe. Know that you hold a knife forged for Shiagur. She was a female krogan warlord during the last embers of the Rebellions. One of the last females who was unaffected by the genophage, which allowed her to amass considerable power, enough that the turians sent a whole legion to ensure her demise. Stories speak of Shiagur as a powerful, ruthless, and cunning warlord, but also fiercely protective of her many offspring. In a sense you two are alike."
Shepard could only mutely accept the dagger, clasping it in both hands as she bowed her head in gratitude. "Thank you, Wrex. I will put this in a place of honor."
Wrex draped the covering piece of varren leather over her hands as she held the dagger, and it was then that Shepard noticed the symbol embossed into it. She looked up, meeting the krogan's crimson stare.
"Keep it here, Shepard." Wrex began, "In your place of power. May all who meet you in this room know that you are an ally of Clan Urdnot. The mark on this wrapping is mine. Display it with pride, because to me you are my sister, though we share no blood."
"Thank you. This is an honor beyond honors." Shepard bowed her head even lower.
Wrex rumbled in that satisfied way of his and backed away. "That's about as much ceremony as I can stand. Now the fun part. We drink!"
"Of course." Shepard looked up and smiled. She knew the meaning of the drinking; they had to seal the proverbial covenant that had just passed between them. "Though I still won't survive ryncol."
"Wouldn't want you to even try it, Shepard."
Shepard nodded, "Let me just put this in my quarters. For now. Until I can get a nice stand for it. Then we'll celebrate."
"Sounds like a plan." Wrex replied.
The weight of the dagger and what it signified seemed heavier than it ought to be. Someone with her understanding could not be deluded about what the gift meant. The dagger was a symbol of an alliance and a trust. Wrex was saying, in no murky terms, that she was important to him. Shepard could not be anything less than honored and awed. A second part of her, the easily-amused by ironies part, pointed out that this would definitely make the Council squirm. Shepard could not help but grin, what the Council did not know, would not hurt her. Besides, at the end of the day a single fundamental reality stood true, Wrex was only her ally, not the Alliance's. She was sure there were other Spectres with such personal connections and strings to pull. She only made friends in more circles than just those the Council approved of. They would just have to deal with it.
Author Notes: The last scene of this episode was a bit of a nightmare to write. I was dithering on what to make that knife. In the end, I decided to just make it a knife that someone made for Shiagur, not something she made, or something one of her children made, or anything like that. Splitting hairs, I know. I wanted to make it clear that Wrex has stepped into that "crazy head-butting uncle" role. Lots of cultural head-canons here in this sketch, I rather like making them.
General Notes:
Wreav – Yes, I am referring to that Wreav, the leader of Clan Urdnot if Wrex dies on Virmire in canon. He states that he had become clan leader because Wrex died. I'm twisting it a little to say that he is the clan's leader because Wrex had no interest in leading the clan, except now that has changed. Wrex is about to show his clan that his might makes everything right, but he also has artifacts to return, he was "successful in war", more than Wreav, who just talks fancy but hasn't got a working plan.
Shiagur – This krogan lady is also straight out of canon. Grunt mentions her, and the name also comes up if you look up the planet Canrum in the ME wiki. I took the few little hints we get and added a few more of my own.
Chapter Notes:
Nothing this time…