Chapter Text
“So I finish laying out the last of the fifty meters of fuse and connect it to the explosives set to blow these fuckin’ doors clear from here to the Citadel.” Zaeed took another swig of ryncol. “And it’s beautiful, like fucking beautiful, a goddamn work of art, and it’s gonna be mean and hot. But I’ve done this kinda shit before. I need to cover fifty meters of ground to get me back to the wall the rest of the team is sheltering behind, which is fine. It's ten meters for each of the five seconds of our silent countdown. I’m a quick fuck, in both ways if I need, I can get back no problem. So I shake the fuse and crouch in preparation, and the turian leading our team sticks his head out, primes the explosion. And then the turian fucker holds up his three-fingered hand and starts the countdown. I can’t do anything but run at this point, so I book it like I’ve never booked it before, but I only made it four fifths of the way back, got scorched to hell by the plasma and that’s why me ass is a different color.”
Wrex let out a long, rumbling laugh that shook the trees around them and was echoed by the rumbling feet of the enormous hide-covered animals that they had been tracking for the past hour. “Damnit, you limping varren!” Grunt snarled. Grunt had not been coping well with the whole ‘stalking’ part of their hunting activities.
Shepard watched as the last of the gorndar stomped off into the trees, leaving the clearing to which the quartet had managed to stalk the large elephant-like creatures. Well...Shepard thought that elephants were the closest thing...maybe rhinos? The creatures had six trunk-like legs that carried them easily and quickly through the trees. They seemed to be thirteen to seventeen feet tall, depending on the individual, and had large heads that resembled those of hippos but with enormous spiraling horns protruding from their foreheads. They were big, apparently excellent eating according to Wrex and the far-too-satisfied Garrus and Atala who had sent them packing into the woods to shoot one. Shepard was a little concerned about their chances as she had seen several of them push down trees that they had deemed were in their way before stripping them of the smaller branches and leaves as they grazed.
“And they're gone.” She sighed, looking up from her scope and letting the hunting rifle fall into the grasses. She had thought it was ridiculously overpowered when they left the house, but now that she saw what they were trying to take down, she wasn’t sure it was actually going to pack enough of a punch.
Grunt grumbled and Wrex clapped him on the back. “This is all part of the hunt, pyjak. On Tuchanka we might be used to just charging in or taking advantage of any food we can find. However, ya gotta learn to fight and hunt like the planet you're on.” He shouldered his own ridiculous rifle, took a swig of ryncol, and began walking after the gorndar herd. “And on Palaven the prey are as stuck up and slow as the damn turians that run this place.”
Grunt huffed in frustration and gave Shepard a look as if this was somehow her fault.
“Hey!” she protested. “Nunna that shit! I’m with you. Why the hell do you think I keep Garrus around? It’s so I don’t die of boredom if we come across a situation that needs some sniping. You know I’d much rather be in the thick of things.”
“You also keep him around so you can have the thick of him in your thing!” Zaeed said as they began to follow Wrex. This made Wrex laugh again and sent the gorndar pounding even further ahead. Grunt and Shepard both laughed appreciatively, and Grunt and Zaeed exchanged a high eight. Shepard had taught him his own special version of a high five as they prepared to fight the collectors, having Grunt hold his hand up and keep it stationary while letting others of the crew come to him, as Chakwas had to deal with several broken fingers from various members of the crew if he was any more active in the exchange.
“Zaeed,” Shepard said easily, taking a sip of ryncol—she was beginning to worry about her ability to shoot anything if she had much more. “You are very much correct. That is another excellent reason for keeping him around. I enjoy surrounding myself with talented individuals, and I’ll tell you what, that turian is highly skilled and never misses the mark.”
“You know, it was bad enough being around the two of you when we were going after Saren,” Wrex said. “I kept wishing you would just do it already and get it out of your systems, but you had Liara all over you.” He shook his head. “Half the time I was happy to follow whatever orders you had just so it shortened the conversation and I wouldn't need to continue to stand around in the reek of your goddamn overactive pheromones.” Shepard trotted so that she was even with Wrex and tried to shove him to the side by throwing herself into him as he walked. It didn’t work—she instead bounced off his armor, he didn’t move a centimeter, and she ended up on her ass in the bushes laughing. Grunt pulled her to her feet, chuckling, while Wrex bent over, laughing so hard he struggled to catch his breath. “I actually used to fuck with Garrus when we were on missions,” Wrex continued, waiting for Shepard to clamber to her feet and reach his side again. She cocked her head in confusion. “If it was clear that we were going to be able to clean out an area fairly easily, I would let some hostiles get a little closer to you and wait for his scent to change. He’d start to smell like panic and rage and then immediately take them out.”
“I think I got shot a few times while you were playing those games!” Shepard said.
“Eh, you had so many scars already a few more weren’t gonna be noticed.”
“He was interested that early?” Shepard asked, shaking her head. She’d had no idea. Garrus had made her laugh enough during the first few weeks he was working with her that she’d become immensely fond of him and considered him her best friend among the crew after Joker, but he always seemed so reserved. Her chest tightened a little. She was alive. They both were alive. They had time...but she couldn’t help but wonder about the time they had missed. Time when they were both younger, less worn. What would it have been like to be together as the people they had been before understanding the size of the threat the Reapers posed? Before they lost so many friends? What would it have been like to have nights of nothing but passion, not thinking the number was limited, not haunted by nightmares? Just the two of them and possibilities...
Wrex gave her a look out of the corner of her eye that was surprisingly gentle. “That turian fell hard and fast, but you came up with so many hairbrained schemes his body couldn’t tell if he wanted to kill you or fuck you.”
Grunt shook his head. “I promise you it was much worse when they were finally talking about getting together,” he said. “The unresolved back and forth, how they smelled after each time she visited the battery.” His massive nose wrinkled. “Some days it made me wish I could crawl back into my tank.” He chuckled. “When he suggested taking me to Omega and buying me a few dances, he sure as hell smelled like he could use one, too.”
“Can you say Shepard was giving him blue balls when his are probably always blue given the color of his blood?” Zaeed mused as he took a long swig of ryncol.
“I will have you all know.” Shepard said, “That he was the one holding back. I was very, very ready, but he obviously had to calculate and analyze things from every possible angle. I was just interested in everyone on the team operating at peak performance, myself included.”
They all chortled at that. “Figures,” said Wrex. “Probably trying to figure out how to remove the stick up his ass so he could actually do something interesting with you.”
Shepard stretched her neck easily. “I assure you, it was a highly successful operation, and I’ve never looked as rough afterwards as you did when Bakara was through with you.”
Grunt let out a guffaw of laughter at that. “Damn right, Shepard. Tuchunka’s changing fast, and the males are pretty worn out.”
“My job is pretty easy because no one has the energy to get into pissing contests with one another,” said Wrex.
“Pissing’s bad enough on its own, somedays,” Grunt grumbled.
“Hurray for peace times,” Shepard said.
“Garrus tells me your sleep’s shit,” Wrex said.
“Oh, does he?” Shepard said with a growl.
“Ahh don’t sweat it, Shep,” Zaeed said, nudging her with a shoulder. “Means you've done something interesting with your life. Just keep plenty of booze and your favorite turian around. Best recipe for a decent night's sleep.”
“It’s an inevitability of anyone who has fought well,” Wrex added. “The trial you stood through with Grunt: its purpose is not to demonstrate who the strongest warrior is—”
“Although it did show I was the strongest,” Grunt interrupted with a grin.
“It is to prove that a krogan can inspire others to follow him into battle, to fight and die at this side. That is the mark of one worthy of a clan, as you are. It is inevitable that our worth will one day cost lives.” His eyes drifted to the bright stars above. “Dreams of our battles are how the ancestors continue to ensure we are worthy. It’s how they teach us in the quiet times.” There was no way he could know just how true those words seemed to Shepard. She was sure at this point that Echo was speaking directly to her. Trying to tell her something. Her eyes followed Wrex’s, and she imagined she could see all the way to Rannoch, hoping she would be worthy enough to understand the Ascendent’s message.
“But this is not a night for dreams or losses from old battles,” Wrex said. “It is a night for stories of how this idiot human almost got us killed and tales of blackened asses.” Zaeed saluted enthusiastically.
“It’s Shepard’s Battle-eret party!” Grunt roared, getting the word very, very wrong.
“Alright,” Shepard said, taking a long swig of ryncol in preparation. “Then I have a suggestion.”
“Name it, Battlemaster!” said Grunt.
“We might be on Palaven and I might be joining with a turian, but all the turians keep insisting I’m actually a tiny krogan.”
“Would explain a lot,” said Zaeed.
“A half-decent theory,” Wrex agreed.
“Did you have a tank?” Grunt asked, seeming to genuinely consider the idea as he squinted at Shepard.
“So,” Shepard continued, “in honor of my krogan-ness and the evident inability of the present company to stay quiet...I say screw stalking. Let’s hunt these things the Shepard way.”
“I like the sound of that,” Grunt roared.
“I’m basically a krogan in bed—certainly get my own Bloodrage there, so yeah, why the hell not?” said Zaeed.
Wrex was actually shaking his head. “And here we have Shepard coming up with another plan likely to get us all killed.”
She grinned at him, trying to show as many of her teeth as she could, in the way that krogan smiles did.
“So are you in?”
Wrex narrowed his eyes at her and then grinned, revealing all of his much more numerous and sharp teeth. “Absolutely.”
* * *
The first step of the plan obviously had to be Zaeed creating an explosion. Shepard and Wrex watched with equal respect and apprehension as the Scot disassembled their guns and Grunt’s omnitool and created a device of surprising power. They did a very small amount of stalking, just enough to catch up with the gorndar herd, which Grunt was actually happy to comply with given the later promise of more exciting action. They were about a hundred meters from the herd when they stopped, and Shepard rolled her shoulders, brought her biotics to life, green radiance shimmering along her strands, and used the biotics to lift the bomb in a long, sweeping arch so that it was positioned on the far side of the herd from where they stood.
“Keep it in the air, Shep,” Zaeed advised. “The connections are pretty exposed, could go off before we’re ready if ya try and set it down.”
Shepard nodded.
Wrex was eyeing the luminescence of her strands. “Well, that fussing turian will be pleased.” He snorted. “You’ll clearly have to wear your helmet for the duration of stealth missions now.” She glared at him. “Grunt, remind me to call Shepard the next time we are trying to clear thresher maws out of new territory. She’ll make it quick work, and I wanna see what these new abilities of hers can do.”
Shepard rolled her eyes. “Glad I’m an endless source of entertainment for you.”
“You also have to keep the ‘Shepard’ name impressive,” Wrex said with a shrug. “We’re just big, dumb krogan, we’ll forget otherwise.”
“You lot don’t forget anything,” she laughed.
“Alright,” Zaeed said, looking through one of the scopes that had been removed from a rifle. “They’re in place. Let’s make a little noise, shall we?”
“Clean kill, remember,” Shepard said, and the others nodded.
Zaeed grinned and detonated their improvised explosive. The blast shook the trees and the air, and they saw a flash of light and a ball of fire in the distance. Zaeed laughed wildly, but it was quickly drowned out by the thundering and bugling cries of the stampeding gorndar herd. Shepard and the others began dashing forward, and within a few moments, the herd was upon them. Wrex and Grunt roared, and Zaeed snapped an improvised flare, banishing the forest's shadows with the brightness of its sparks. Shepard’s strands sprang to life with a blinding flash, throwing a gleaming shield into the air above her.
The nocturnal herd animals barreling down on them panicked at the sound and sudden lights in the forest. The ones in the front of the herd tried to halt and then began swinging themselves to the side to try and evade the hunters who awaited them. This left Shepard and the others suddenly facing their enormous exposed flanks, their massive horns facing away from the rushing bipeds, just as Shepard planned. She launched a biotic blast over the head of one of the bulls nearest them, marking their target for the rest of the team, and raced for it. She brought a shimmering shield to life on the far side of the bull, slightly ahead of where it ran. It bugled in rage and pivoted, pulling out and away from the rest of the herd to avoid the light while the others dashed the opposite direction into the trees, flattening quite a few in the process. Grunt and Wrex, moving faster than Shepard would have thought possible, fell into place on either side, snarling at the bull to keep it moving away from the rest of the herd. Lungs burning with effort, Shepard sprinted on a diagonal, heading for the enormous rolling front shoulder over which the end of one of its enormous horns hung. She threw every bit of her energy into her last few strides and then leapt,, arms outstretched, reaching for the horn and the shaggy tufts of hair that ran along the bull’s spine. Palaven’s low gravity and perhaps a whisper of Fiatara, the turian spirit of the hunt, carried her through the air, and she locked her arms around the huge horn, swinging her legs across the wide neck and squeezing with all her might.
The moment her grip was firm, the bull began tossing its head in rage, bellowing and bucking to try and dislodge her. Shepard held on with all her might, teeth gritted with effort. Wrex and Grunt took the bull’s reduced speed as an opportunity to toss a cable beneath its belly and around its back. Grunt leapt, still holding the cable, and dug his claws into the bull’s side, anchoring himself along its plated back. Wrex stopped running and squared himself as the cable around the bull’s back legs whipped closed. Wrex hauled back on the cable, intending to haul the beast to the ground as its hind legs were snapped together, but the strange six-legged stride of the bull was nearly undisturbed as its back legs flew out behind it, and the krogan was yanked forward, slamming face first into the forest floor. Grunt roared with laughter. Zaeed loped alongside the bull, which was now moving much slower, trying to dislodge Shepard and Grunt who held on with all their might. Zaeed followed the knee of the bull with their remaining rifle and fired twice, taking out the front knees of the bull and sending it tumbling forward with a bellowing roar. It hit the ground hard, rolling to the side slightly.
Shepard scrambled across the back of its neck to avoid being flattened by the tumbling bull, activated her omni blade and sunk it deep as she could into the unarmored hide on the underside of the bull’s head. Then its bulging roar was suddenly cut off, and the bull went limp.
There were a few muffled cries of “Battlemaster!” and Grunt slowly clawed his way out from under the side of the bull. Even on its side the bull was too large for him to see over. “Is Shepard under there?” His voice was full of concern.
Wrex laughed loudly from where he was limping towards them. “No,” he growled. “Quick as a pyjack that one, not like your lumbering ass. She got up and over it to make the kill.”
“I’m fine, Grunt,” Shepard called as he clambered into view over the rear haunches of the gorndar.
“Dammit, Shepard,” Grunt growled. “I thought I was gonna have to have Liara use her full Shadowbroker arsenal and try and keep me hidden from a very angry sniper. You can’t get killed on my watch, ok? Garrus is too damn good at finding people and too good of a shot for me to be able to stay alive.”
“Don’t worry Grunt. You’re safe from sniper scopes.”
Wrex grinned at Shepard and Zaeed. “Well I’ll be damned. I was sure I was going to be able to drag it down. Not a bad finish there for a pair of honorary krogan.” He made his way towards the neck of the gorndar, slick with leaking blood. “Hey, Shepard, you’re taking all the right chemicals to mess around with your little turian?”
“Yes…” Shepard said hesitantly.
“Good.” And Wrex plunged both his hands into the gash that her omni blade had left, retrieved a cupped handful of blood, and dropped the purplish fluid into Shepard's hair, rubbing it in. She cried out in protest, but he flicked away her blows. He smeared the blood down across her forehead to just above her eyebrows and then stepped back. The top of her head now carried the same lines and coloration as the top of his armored red head. “You might be joining with a turian, but tonight we claim you as krogan.”
* * *
Keeping the one gun had been a very good choice. It came in very handy as there was so much blood over Wrex and Shepard that five cabathi tried to have them for dinner on their way home. One did actually manage to get the jump on Wrex. Its stinging tail, however, did not manage to make its way through his heavily armored body and got stuck halfway through a plate. It thrashed, slashed, and flailed until Grunt finally managed to get a hold of it and snap its neck. Wrex insisted that these things must have come from Tuchanka, claiming they were way to nasty to originally be from Palaven and there was no way turians could have managed to evolve and survive to where they were now.
Shepard was finishing her best version of the story of Aia Colaan walking into the star forge to create the armored collars all turians were born with as they, at last, climbed the hill leading to the old house. She was very glad that Garrus was not with them and that it was late and she could take a shower to wash the foul dried blood from her hair and then fall into bed. Using that much of her biotics had definitely cost her this soon after stopping the ceiling from crushing everyone, and her abdomen was killing her.
She had a feeling that the way they had chosen to bring down the gorndar was not what her sniper future-mate had in mind when he signed off on hunting for her bachelorette party. Her head was swimming from how much ryncol she had drunk, and Grunt was being an excellent friend by catching her the few times she stumbled. She was very glad that they had kept the gun and that Zaeed was nearly always drunk because she was not sure her biotics still had the necessary punch to fend off the cabathi, and she was certain that she couldn't aim for shit right now.
Spirits, it had been a blast though. She was drunk, nicely tired, had an excellent new story from the night, and felt completely at ease with her old teammates. She could have done without the hair full of blood, but the pride in Wrex’s voice as he’d smeared it across her forehead was a balm to her soul, weary from Rafia’s constant disdain.
There were shots in the distance. Perhaps there was another hunting party out in the late summer air? Shepard grinned slightly to herself. There was no way they would have a hunt as spectacular as theirs had been. She knew Atala was going to be very jealous that she hadn’t been there to be part of it, and Garrus and Liara were probably going to want to kill her. She was certain that Javik would find the whole thing deeply ‘primitive,’ but the prothean could suck it. Sometimes being primitive was a damn good time. The crack of gunfire was still punctuating the cool night air. Shepard was mildly surprised that it was so close to the rest of Venatura, but after what Garrus had pulled for their asking celebration, she was starting to think that turians had very different ideas about relative safety than humans did..
They reached the crest of the hill on which the house stood, and Shepard sighed in relief, thinking that she would perhaps finally try out the bath and take an opportunity to soak her strained muscles rather than just showering. She had a feeling that there would be someone only too pleased to carry her to bed if she felt too tired to get out herself. The moonlight was flashing off the huge window of the house. Maybe she could even drag him into the bath with her? The bath was small enough that it didn’t matter if he couldn’t swim...and it was definitely big enough for two. There was another flash of light off the windows.
No.
The flash of light had been behind the windows. Bright and blue, not the silvery moonlight. There was another. Then the sound of gunfire she’d been hearing and the flash that she had thought was the moon on the windows but must have been from a gun firing. She heard a low rumble like thunder, and an upstairs window shattered in a cloud of billowing flames.