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Requested by : Laurel

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"So you just… P-Punched him in the face?" The little technical expert stammered, more from fighting a laugh than anything, while she stirred a spoon in her coffee. Around them, the Presidium cafe was surprisingly quiet in the early morning hours. Quiet and light on staff but then, it was only half an hour past opening.

And, well… He was sure two armed Krogan standing outside weren't great for attracting customers.

"Punching stubborn Krogan in the face is a negotiation tactic, and time honored at that." Thane smiled, sipping at his own herbal tea while a server came to drop off a few pastries. He took one of the cinnamon rolls and sat it on his plate, he used his fork to cut it into six nearly perfect pieces as he went on, "And besides, it worked - he gave me the information I needed, got paid, and we both went on our way."

"Still…" She murmured, unnaturally pale face twisting in a grimace, "It's so…"

"Alien?" John tried quietly, earning a grimace, a shrug and a nod from her. Taking a sip from his own tea - also herbal, at Thane's insistence, because 'caffeine could off-balance his medications - and sighing. "Yeah, well… Some things come naturally to you, when it's time to adapt, or they just… Don't."

"And Krogan are natural to you…?"

"Somewhat." He nodded, "Where I come from, we've spent a lot of time fighting. That breeds a certain kind of person."

"One adaptive to the Krogan," Thane nodded, "as odd as it may appear."

"Yeah." He shrugged and took a drink, "That."

"It still seems too strange to me, honestly, but…" She hummed, thinking for a second before she mused, "I suppose it's a lot like ME field radiance effects…"

"I suppose?" Thane quirked his head, flicking John an inquisitive look.

"Somewhat." He nodded, gesturing at the woman and sighing. "She likes technical analogies. What she's getting at is that certain materials, like the kinds we use for ship-building, have a natural reaction to Eezo and the Mass Effect. Think the difference between wood and steel-composite."

"That difference I know well enough…" Thane hummed thoughtfully, "I'm surprised you've gotten so thoroughly educated so quickly."

"I haven't had very much else to do." He shrugged once more, thoroughly enjoying being able to move the arm normally once more. "Besides, Beau needed help."

"And he's been a huge help on the Arquebus Project! Bigger than I could have hoped, honestly, even with the work he'd already done on it." Beau added brightly, immediately excited when technical talk was brought back up, even if only tangentially. "He's a natural at orbital insertion and atmospheric related physics, and his understanding was invaluable there on its own. But with him roughly up to speed on Eezo effects and more advanced metallurgical information…"

"I try."

"He's astounding!" She sighed, shaking her head and resting her chin on her palm, "And wasted in combat, I swear…"

"Tuchanka disagrees." Thane offered quietly, chuckling when the technician just rolled her eyes. And, ever the apparent socialite, to John's surprise, Thane seemed to sense that line of conversation dying and immediately asked, "How is Arquebus proceeding, in any event?"

From there, landmine thoroughly stepped on, the next fifteen minutes or so were filled with technical talk, theory crafting, and definitely purely hypothetical explanations that bordered so close on breaking confidentiality that if it had been anyone other than Thane and a trio of exhausted cafe workers still waking up, he'd have put a stop to it. As it was, they didn't seem to be paying any attention, Beau had an audio-recorder scrambler on her 'Tool, and they were being vague enough that no one would find anything - 'Arquebus' wasn't even the project's real name, they'd just settled on it for working together.

Thankfully they were saved from a detailed analysis on aluminium-composite or steel-composite housings for the internal storage and seating by the door opening and a few weary - and wary, thanks to his bodyguards outside - looking office-workers meandering into the cafe.

"That's our cue, unfortunately." John sighed, rising and turning for the counter.

"But I just got a refill…"

"Yes," Thane acknowledged, "but as careful as we're being, you are terrible at secrecy when you get overly excited. And as thoroughly as the Hanar have vetted the staff that come here…"

"Right. Sorry." She sighed, shrugging flippantly in a way that he knew by now meant she "You guys go ahead and I'll stay? I'm going to catch up on some reading on new composites the Hierarchy have been working on."

They both nodded, paid - with a generous tip, of course, because Gods only knew how many customers his guards had frightened off - and left.

Outside, the Presidium was as calm and pristine as ever. The air was as pleasant as ever, monitored and maintained at very nearly perfectly low seventies in Fahrenheit, and while there was a breeze it was only slight. Enough to smell the reservoir water and food from all the early-open restaurants on the boardwalk. One of many boardwalks he could see up and down the water-side, packed with food stalls, store-fronts and landing pads that air-cars were already starting to cue to get into to drop off their passengers in the shade of great structural walls spaced evenly along the arms, supporting the structure of the Citadel itself. It was peaceful and pristine, and…

Gods, he missed Tuchanka - at least there the hairs standing up on his neck and his anxiety made sense.

"John…"

"Just anxiety." He waved the Drell off, watching an air-bus pass over them and come to land at a service entrance against one of the huge walls, landing where uniformed workers were already waiting to unload it into a multi-level, shared warehouse that serviced this section. "It's so quiet…"

"It takes adjusting." The Drell assured him for very much not the first time, leading him along the far less occupied 'exit' side of the walkway out to the rows of auto-taxi call stands. Even just after such a short walk, the Drell was starting to breathe harder, but he spoke before John could, "Speaking of adjusting…"

"My treatments are done." He nodded, "I'm not at a hundred for another few days, but…"

"Your gene-therapy, too?"

"What could be done in such a short time, yeah." There were more thorough, more extensive, ones they wanted to do eventually - but for now, he was just that bit stronger than he had been. And the upside of his physical therapy was that he'd already adjusted to any changes. But, in spite of the distraction, he laid a hand on the Drell's back in case he needed a brace and asked, "Do you need to sit, Thane?"

"Not taking the bait for a change of topic, hm?"

"No." He chuckled, "I'm not."

"I could stand the support, I suppose, while we wait…" The Drell admitted after a moment, leaning against John's side while he caught his breath.

Luckily, they didn't have to wait terribly long for the air-taxi to arrive, and John helped Thane in. He dropped onto the seats and sighed as John climbed into the back with him, already turning the fan up to circulate more air over his face so he could breathe better while John rolled the window down and his guards climbed into the front and punched in Huerta's address. As they turned up and curved around into a skylane, towards Huerta, John turned to watch the Drell take long, deep breaths, relaxing now that he could rest and didn't need to talk.

But, finally, he had to check, "Thane, do I need to call Doctor Michel?"

"No, no." He sighed, "I'm… Fine. Just resting."

"Alright." Thane was the type not to want him to worry, he knew that well enough by now. But he was also smart enough to know if he started lying, then they'd worry constantly. "Kolyat, maybe?"

"He's waiting for us." Thane shook his head, "We're practicing prayer memorization."

"He's doing well, then?"

"He's going to be alighted, into the priesthood." The Drell smiled, wider than he ever had before until his face went blank. "Cold air on my shoulders. Water down my back and a knife in my hand. I draw the shape and the priest speaks 'you are prepared'. The doors open and the air is hot outside. Sweltering. The thick robes waiting for me make it worse. Yet I'm proud…"

"Memories…?" He asked quietly when Thane relaxed, eyes sliding closed.

"Yes." He nodded, "I've… Not thought of that day in a long time."

"Not even with Shepard?"

"No." He shook his head, "But now is… Different."

"How?"

"You know how." Thane answered lowly, "Just as well as Michel does."

"Ah…" And the dread that washed over him at the words made his stomach spin so quickly it somehow hurt.

It must have showed on his face, because Thane gave him a smile and sighed, "Do not be upset. I have lived a full enough life. And the last few years of it were good. I am at peace."

"I know, but…"

"Borrowed memories and your own," Thane nodded, "with more weight than you would prefer, I'm sure, regardless."

"It's… Not that, no." He muttered, self-consciousness welling up for a familiar moment before he set it aside. If he could run under a damn Reaper to hit buttons, he could be open here, in semi-private. So he said, "I just… I'm not used to losing friends when there isn't a firefight involved."

"Or a bomb, I imagine."

"Or that." He hummed, "You get the gist."

"It's a unique thing to experience, I suppose, for one in your… Unique situation." Thane acknowledged quietly, "Unfortunately, I have rarely experienced such myself. My greatest loss was my wife, and she… Did not die in peace."

"I know." He nodded, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It is fine." He sighed, coughing harshly into a fist and grunting as he recovered. "I merely… What I mean is that I pray that you, and Shepard, and so many others, now, do not become as I did. Cold. Dead in the soul."

"I won't."

"We won't let 'im." One of his guards grunted, "Be sure o' that."

"I appreciate your aid, my friends." Thane hummed, "For now… How about we listen to the news?"

"Yeah." John smiled thinly, "News."

The news was a complicated thing, for them. It was always depressing, and distressing, to hear what was happening beyond the closest parts of Citadel Space. Not knowing where Shepard was in all the mess out there was more stress than Doctor Michel had liked for either of them, until she concluded that not knowing at all was actually worse. And that they'd find a way to hear about it regardless of whatever she tried to do about it. And, ever since that conclusion had been reached, it had become… Almost a tradition for them, when they went out, to listen to the news.

If only because for Michel the stress of hearing about everything was only a bad thing, alongside a number of other patients, so Huerta was out.

"Channel six or seven?"

"Six." Thane grunted, explaining when he raised an eyebrow, "There's an announcement from the Council scheduled for today."

"-I would like to put forward for consideration the nature of the Council, and how seats are at least traditionally gained." Councilor Sparatus' semi-familiar, vaguely flanging voice echoed from the speakers. "Generally, such a thing occurs after great services to the Council, and the Citadel community itself, have been rendered. My own people were granted this dignified place after we aided in saving the Council from an at the time overbearing and seemingly unstoppable force - the Krogan."

He felt the tension rolling off the Krogan in the front, but neither spoke their mind. Instead, they listened, apparently as curious where this unexpected release was going.

"And now, even after everything they have been through… Once more the Krogan prove to the galaxy just how valuable they are. As warriors, as a nation- As a people. Even now, Krogan feet march against the Reapers on Turian worlds, answering the call we put out." Sparatus went on, voice filling with all the gravitas he was likely able to summon, "As such, on behalf of the Primarch and what is left of my people… The Turian Hierarchy hereby motions for the Krogan people's embargo from the Citadel to be lifted immediately, for their embassy to be reopened formally, for the official dismantling of the so-called Krogan DMZ…"

"And, most importantly," he went on, with the weight of an announcement's finish, "the proposition that, when this war is won, the Krogan be granted a place beside us - earned in blood that saved a galaxy twice!"

"We will now take questions-"

"Well." The Krogan driving rumbled while the other turned the volume down - they all knew what kinds of questions to expect, after all, and weren't all that interested. "That was… Something."

"An embassy." The other murmured, sounding almost… Stunned. "To think I'd see the day…"

"Yeah, well…" The older one sighed, "Now all we need to do is win the war."

"Yeah." The other sighed almost mournfully, "There is that…"

"We'll win." John assured them both, leaning forward to clap one on his shoulder and meeting his gaze when he turned to look at him. Holding his gaze, the ODST nodded curtly and went on, "We don't have another choice. No other way. But… What we do have is a massive army of pissed off Krogan warriors."

"Heh." The Krogan grunted, shaking his head and looking away, "Why are you telling me? I know that- I'm part of it!"

He left the warrior alone at that and leaned back, relaxing into his seat with a sigh. Krogan were prideful by culture, so he hadn't expected the alien to really lean into being comforted. But he at least seemed more relaxed, drawing a knife from his thigh and checking its edge to pass the time as their sky-lane meandered forwards. And, of course, the air-taxi racked up time he'd have to pay for…

Not that he was lacking for credits, really, with the contract payout from the Alliance Shepard had managed and Krant's own generous stipend.

"Hmm…" He hummed, thinking about that, "Maybe I should… Look into some new gear."

"Not a terrible idea." Thane nodded, "I know an excellent dealer on the Citadel, some of the best handguns in the galaxy."

"And you would know."

"That I would." Thane nodded again, looking up as they passed under Huerta and turned up and around, coming in to a landing just outside. As they came down to land the Drell's eyes went wide and he barked, "Pull away!"

They did, just in time for a missile to slam into the ground right behind them, spraying shrapnel, heat, and smoke into the rear of the car and hurling it away. The engine sputtered as they fell, but the Krogan managed to spring it to life just as they came down towards one of the long boardwalks on either side of the Presidium. They slammed down into rows of parked air-cars, rolling over them as Thane's Biotics flared to life, wrapping them all in a protective cushion that kept them safe until it came to a stop.

"That was targeted!" The Drell barked, already using his Biotics to hurl away the rear door while the Krogan physically tore their own way out. "Everyone out!"

He clambered free as a long, black air-van came down to land a few yards from them, door open as Cerberus Troopers leapt out and stumbled up the long walkway that split the parking zones. They all had eyes on John as he slid into cover, before three were cut down by long arcing shots from above.

"This is C-Sec!" A voice boomed from a speaker, the voice echoing across the water but not repeating further out - which told him that he wasn't transmitting anything. Still, he went on, "We are under attack- Proceed to shelters immediately!"

Snarling, he slid onto a knee and accepted the Predator one of his guards offered him and shook his head, looking up where a Salarian in heavy orange and red armor was firing a Phaeston, ducking into cover when Cerberus returned fire.

"Well," he grunted, "guess I won't be waiting the extra few days after all…"

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On genetics-

Enough is left opaque or up to interpretation that we all have our own understanding of how specific things work in Halo and in ME. I could assert that the ME gene mods are just way better, so they wouldn't even pop on ME medical systems. He'd look unmodded. Or I could assert that they don't mod all that much at all.

It's all interpretation.

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Guest :

The Librarian EXPLICITLY states that the original Humans were devolved - which entails genetic alterations. So she was already altering Human genetics. We also KNOW she did not just revert them to base because of Reclaimers, and what she explains to The Chief. She implanted gene-songs and traits into Humanity to help it as it regrew. Asserting that it might present as a slightly heightened healing rate - literally reducing it by a week or so AT BEST, it's so slight even doctors don't really note it all that much - is not that different to the changes we do know of.

Predator 1701 :

Indeed! This is the first piece of evidence I'm putting in to show that John isn't QUITE a 'normal' human… You know, insanity aside.