Comfortable Old Boots

Note: Be warned of utter bull-shitting involving the military below.

 

"Comfortable Old Boots"

Chapter Three: Smooth Talker

 

   Tess- 'Shepard' to her father, much to the horror of everyone, including Tess herself- had heard about turians. Hell, she knew turians, and very nearly in the Biblical sense. She'd talked to a couple the one time she'd gone to Omega as a teen. She'd been fifteen, had a bit too much to drink and wound up in the back of a krogan's car, studiously trying to engineer the world's first Turian Neck Hickey. When Zaaed had caught the lot of them, he'd shot out all the windows and dragged her off by her arm. 'You can come back when you're thirty,' he'd said.



   Jackass.



   The only turians she'd seen since then were the ones who came down from the Urdnot base. Krogan were all over the damned place. Krogan did everything. Krogan wanted to build a vacation spot for people with the money to pay for space travel- which was fairly strange and didn't make much sense to her since most of the krogan around here could care less about economics. The aforementioned site was right off in the distance over there, past the turian's shoulder and probably not too far from where that supply ship had gone down. Can't see the window, anyway, she noted stupidly, as it seemed all she could think about was real estate, outdated forms of male dominance in society, and clever greetings to visiting aliens.



   Shepard Donnelly was grimacing in pain and recovering her dignity in that flawless way only Miranda Donnelly could manage, pointedly smacking the door lock and blocking the only view Tess had of the newcomer. Regarding the dully gleaming metal door with heavy-lidded eyes, she sat back heavily on the cot, lacing her fingers together. Geoff Moreau was tromping his way inside even as she did so, muttering something under his breath about 'size not mattering' and 'someone needs to teach these people how to pilot a ship right.'

 

   “Geoff,” she said aloud, puffing out a breath loud enough it caused her cheeks to balloon out. I'm dizzy. Funny, that.



   Geoff was the youngest Moreau brother, all gangling limbs and smartass remarks. He always seemed to be moving, as if being able to get from Point A to Point B was the most wonderful thing on Normandy itself. They'd been on the same soccer team as kids. Even then, he thought he was hot shit. Truth be told, he had enough skills under his belt that 'I'm Hot Shit, Look at Me' was justified. The worst part about dealing with him was that he was actually as funny as he believed. Bastard. He squinted at her. She squinted at him.



   Geoffrey Moreau, you charming son of a bitch.



   “Look, I called him a dick, I didn't say you should blow up his cruiser when he decided to back over Thane. That's all on you-” the lawman insisted, but damned if he didn't look a little amused when he denied any part he might have played in the whole affair. For a moment, she had to wonder why someone like him had gone in to law enforcement. Probably because there wasn't much else to do on the colony other than farming and general upkeep.



   “It's not about Thane. All you told me is that a ship went down and fire wasn't so friendly.”



   She poked, prodded, and generally bribed what information she could get from him. After all, it wasn't every day that turian forces decided to skip on in to hijack some of their resources. She was more interested than she'd like to admit, growing jittery the longer the Shepard and the captain stayed behind closed doors. It was more practical to focus on the aftermath of something like a ship crash over a dead dog. She wasn't wanting to think more about Thane than she already had in the past several hours. Anderson loved Thane. Everyone loved that dog- except Miranda. Miranda was a cat person. Dammit, Kai Lin-



   What she found out was a little bit of 'Miranda's ready to kick them out right now,' a hint of 'you know what the terrain between here and Urdnot's like' and 'I wonder if it's true about turian drivers on terra cruisers. Kai Lin says they cause car accidents. Then again, Kai Lin's the devil.'



   Kai Lin was the devil, she agreed, although Satan probably hadn't minored in the study of the Kama Sutra at a Citadel-II university. Her reasoning behind the giant mess that had led to dead dogs and arson was selfish and fairly transparent.

   Once Tess was free and clear of the whole 'behind bars mess' and vowing to avoid Anderson until she could muster enough sincere regret to apologize to him, she settled down outside the jail to wait. No one wanted to deal with bullshit when their dog had been backed over by someone wanting to prove a point to their ex-girlfriend- and she wouldn't deny that she'd dealt Anderson a fair amount of bullshit to shovel in twenty-three years. Aren't I something? She wondered silently, letting out a self-deprecating snort as she cast a look over her shoulder at the distant hunk of scrap that currently marked Thane's grave. Yeah. I'm something, all right.

   She exchanged words with townsfolk as they came and went- awkward snippets of conversation that often followed people trying to be polite to someone who had royally fucked up. Using a stick, she drew pictures in the damp soil and tried not to think too hard about why it was a bad idea to go bother a military officer caught in the aftermath of a crisis. On the other hand, one more bad call will put you at two-of-three for the week.

   Waiting until Anderson had left the turians alone in the temporary white housing, she climbed to her feet. Bobbing and weaving her way around noisy and irritable locals who were heading home and away from this mess of a day proved to be harder than she expected. Getting to the temporary without drawing too much attention to herself was trickier still, even though it was nearly dark now. Making it around the back of the building without anyone realizing what she was doing was easier. There was nothing quite like several high walls to make stealth nice and uncomplicated.

   The turian captain was leaning against the back of the place, gray armor a little stark against eggshell white walls. Her father had been military for a time, and somehow, she suspected this soldier had already talked to five different people on five different planets during the few hours she'd been badgering Geoff for conversation. Conversation and unimportant details, she told herself, scrubbing a hand through messy hair. Go home, Tess. No one likes a xenophile. Or an arsonist, but too late for that one.

   He wasn't looking in her direction, but all at once, she knew he knew she was watching. The realization was there in the way he tensed just slightly, canting his head to one side. An observation like that was a pornographic novel cliché, but there it was, all overblown and ridiculous. Being found out right away was for the best, since she didn't plan to lurk in a dark corner staring at strange men as they stood around by their lonesome. That was Friday's method of entertainment.



   “Need something?” he eventually asked, and somehow, she got the impression that he'd been expecting her here, even if he hadn't understood where 'here' would be for him. There was a queer twist in her stomach, a little like nausea and even a bit like unsettled nerves as he made a rumbling sound that started low in his chest and worked its way upward. The knot twisted tighter.



   Well. This was a damned good idea. There was a taste of blood in her mouth, though she hadn't bitten herself. All she could smell was Kai Lin's cruiser as it had burned, and something else that was a little like burning hair-



   “A turian captain might not be the best person for you to be seen talking to...” Another rumble, followed by an outward flare of a mandible, “under the circumstances.” He said that last part very seriously, a bit too worn for politeness, but too much of a uniform to engage in pointless bitching over a very bad day.



   The bitter tinge in the air faded, though she still tasted copper wiring in her mouth. She grunted, made a show of popping her jaw using her hand. The captain remained unimpressed as far as she could tell, but now that he was actually looking at her, he didn't shift his eyes away. She flashed what felt like it ought to be a lazy smile and hoped that her teeth weren't bloody for some reason. It feels like there should be blood, where's the blood- “It would be hard for me to get in more trouble today than I'm already in, captain. Are you telling me to give it a shot?”

 

***

   She told him her name was Tess- a short, soft hiss of a noise not unlike those made by the insects that always managed to get past the door of the Victus home in spite of the large number of credits his mother had invested in bug control. Tenacious bugs, Garrus often had to stomp on them no less than three times, making certain the flat of his boot well and truly squished the bluish things into the floor to be certain they were dead. “Tess- yes, like that Shepard,” was how she'd put it, her tone deadpan even if she almost seemed to be laughing at herself. There was a sheen of sweat on her face and she had as much trouble not staring at him as he had not gawking at her. “There are about forty of us. Right now the big name is Gabby.”

   There had been an awkward pause, followed by a clumsy: “Damned bad luck about your ship. I wanted to tell you.”



   He said he was “Garrus- Captain Garrus. Victus, in fact. Like that Garrus and that Victus.” His own moment of silence had been equally awkward, throat gone tight. “If anything, I'd say most of us were pretty damned lucky. We aren't dead.” Seized with a growing, inexplicable feeling that he was running low on time to do something, he shoved out a clumsy hand for her to shake, regarding it with horror as he nearly punched her in the gut in the process. The doors behind him were supposed to be locked, air tight and soundproof, but he was utterly certain he heard one of his crew members laugh. There was a tinge of bitterness to the sound, no doubt a clear indication Garrus would have to work to regain the respect of his men after such an ill-fated first flight. Shit, he thought, resigned and somehow, not as concerned as he ought to be. That was a sure sign the crash had shaken up his priorities.



   She laughed at that, more a bark of laughter than anything delicate or pleasant to the ear. Somehow, he had the very clear impression she was rattled at the sight of a turian this close up and just damned good at hiding it. Tess said, “You're kidding,” and took his hand, blunt in her observation and clearly ignoring the fact he'd almost planted his fist in her kidney. He'd caught her reflexive twitch as his hand swung out, brushing against her side. “Garrus walks away from another crash.”



   It was with mounting surprise he listened to the approach of one of the Stand's five good shuttles as it hovered in the air some feet past an oily dark smear that Garrus realized was part of the reason he'd been smelling a war zone this far away from the Kara II. “You know,” he started, the words thick and clumsy in his mouth. Feeling this off-balance was new to him. He disliked it. Spirits, they do work fast here.

   He couldn't see who the pilot was, but found it in himself to be impressed at how quickly the security detail of the colony was mobilizing to see to their needs and get them out of their area of Normandy. “For what it's worth, the men and I were supposed to have a week's shore leave after delivering our shipment to Urdnot.” This isn't a proper use of your time.



   Garrus was becoming aware of a dully growing ache in his hand. It took him another ten seconds to realize they still had fingers linked, squeezing tightly enough it probably hurt her more than it did him. Reluctantly, he eased off the pressure. Her nails continued to dig straight through the tough cloth of his military grade gloves. When she smiled, the expression was strained, causing him to wonder if he'd made a critical mistake-



“You get down there to Urdnot in a couple days, buzz me on the extranet,” she finally answered. “Give me a heads up so I can get some transport first. It can be hell to get around out here. We'll go out into the hills and I'll show you the best view around-” This close, he could see a mole on her arm beneath the short sleeves of her shirt, wanted to run his fingers over it in spite of the fact there were wounded men and duties that should be the focus of any decent captain. That shuttle would take him back to everything he ought to put first. All at once, it seemed as if it couldn't land quickly enough.

“Right.”

***

   As much as Garrus had disliked the idea of leaving Lieutenant Corinthus in charge of what was left of the Kara II on the... sojourn to Shepard's Stand, it had been the best call to make at the time. His instincts had paid off, as the wounded were well stabilized and the short supply of turian medi-gel had been used judiciously when he and the three crewmen who'd gone with the colonists returned. Unfortunately, they'd returned with little more than a couple of humans, the shuttle that had brought them all back to the crash site, and the assurance that the Urdnot leathers were bringing their shuttles to get them back to base.



   Garrus took his lumps the way any turian officer ought to on Urdnot, headbutting krogan and setting his team loose on one another to let them work the rage out of their systems as the Alliance began to count up the losses. The short casualty list was nearly miraculous. Nonetheless, he couldn't help the way he'd grit his teeth when he'd taken a look at the tally passed over by Yeoman Chellick.



   Three men dead.



   Twenty crates of dextro protein-based foods lost.



   Cause of warning alarm and last minute failure of landing procedure? - Unknown.



   Investigation ongoing.

   Leave was delayed by two days after their late arrival, allowing the turian crew less time to blow off steam than he'd promised. 'Going wild' on the military base of a mostly unsettled planet didn't present the limited options that had concerned him at first. While the others drank and swapped stories about various scars, Garrus practiced his sharpshooting and debated calibrations. Then, there were the various things that tended to crop up when one was a visiting officer. Privately, he welcomed the flurry of activity that seemed to spiral around a captain, preferring not to dwell on the recriminations that would await him on Palaven in favor of actually getting some damned work done.



   There were... drinks those first nights, as well as the eager company of a turian engineer who suggested she test his reach against her flexibility. Their fight had gone on for quite a while, until they were both sweating and swaying on their feet. In private, they'd held a one time tie-breaker. In spite of his exhaustion, he'd been unable to sleep well after they had finished. Laying in bed with a willing, dexterous turian woman ought to have been the stuff of which dreams were made. Garrus did, in fact, dream. Some of it was pleasant. Most of it wasn't.

   Brilliant flashes of light along the surface of N7 insignias. Spinning a human woman high up along the Citadel and listening to her laugh at how close they came to the edge of the platform-        



“It's going to be one hell of a short war if you drop me!”



   Smooth, metallic playing cards, a dull ache of hunger in his stomach. Looking out the wreckage of the ship to the verdant expanse where they'd all decided to build Shepard's Stand-



   “I have to admit, Tali. It's a quieter way to go than I expected. How about you?”     



Frantically gathering evidence against a turian Spectre, utterly certain in the knowledge that if he was fast enough, no one else would have reason to investigate the matter and or set foot on Eden Prime. London looming in the distance-

   Garrus woke that night, drenched in his own sweat and with a scowling bedmate looming over him. She kicked him out of her room for talking about other women in his sleep. He didn't really ask her what names he might have dropped, but he was honestly glad to be collecting his civilians and making a fast track back to his own quarters. Once again, he could smell ozone and burning hair, the acrid reek following him clear back to his room. It hovered about him like a cloud as he dropped in front of the extranet terminal in the corner of his cramped quarters.

   Though his head was spinning more than it should have been, he was trained to wake up and be reasonably clear-headed at a moment's notice. That made it easy to compose the e-mail message. He was awake enough not to worry about spelling, just dim enough not to worry about the implications of what he was doing.

   Still want to show me that view?' he sent to 'dontcallmecommander.horseheadnebula.alpha.



   Garrus steepled his fingers and waited, leaning slightly forward in his chair.



   dontcallmecommander.horseheadnebula.alpha responds to vigilantesalary.apienscrest.gamma:



   'Consider me seduced, smooth talker.'