Rite of Honor

Shepard came to on a cot, the rubble and lack of danger signaling she was back in the Urdnot Clan’s outpost base.


“I wouldn’t try that, you know…” A familiar voice stated before she could move, “You’re still wounded.”


Shepard grinned as she looked over at Garrus, relieved to find the Turian alive. She had been about to get up, despite what looked like a broken arm in a splint and some bandages tightly wound around her abdomen. From the way her insides were screaming in agony, her ribs had been mended. She hadn’t even realized her ribs had broken. Must have been all the adrenaline.


Her grin turned to a scowl as she retorted, “So are you.”


His leg was in a cast, but he was standing leisurely as though he just chose to lean against that particular wall. At her reply, he grinned, azure scales flashing in the dim light as he crossed his arms, “Yeah, but I’m not the one who has a 500 lb wall of muscle to reinforce my ‘proper’ healing.”


Shepard frowned, swinging her legs over the cot as she slowly pushed herself to her feet. Her face flinched at each movement, “I’d like to see anyone try and stop me.”


Garrus shrugged, returning his gaze outwards of the small stone room they inhabited, “Your funeral…”


The Commander limped slowly to the entrance, hunched over a little, her undamaged arm curled protectively over her healing ribs. Once she had joined Garrus, she stopped to lean heavily on the other side of the doorway, looking out as well.


As her eyes traced the immense cavern, the light filtering from cracks dozens of levels above them, she asked, “How long was I out?”


“Days.” He said in a deadpanned voice.


“What?”


“Weeks.” He continued.


“Garrus…” Shepard trailed off slowly.


“Months. We were so lost without you.” Garrus said wryly, throwing his grey gaze towards her, his mandibles smirking.


“Garrus?”


“Yeah?”


“I would’ve missed you too. Now shut up.” She grinned shaking her head.


Chuckling, Garrus stared thoughtfully off into the distance before looking at her once more, “It was only a couple of hours. What did you expect? You already came back from the dead once before. Second time’s gotta be a cinch.”


“Yeah? Why don’t we trade places, and you’ll get to experience it firsthand.”


“Already did remember?” Garrus stated, waving towards the scar on his face and the chest plate armor he kept burned and singed, almost like a dark momento, “Being hit by a missile’s not an event I’d likely forget.”


“Hey, you rack up as much times as I did, and we can swap stories.” Shepard smiled, chasing away the darkness that attempted to overtake her Turian friend’s features.


“Yeah,” Garrus muttered wryly, sending her a sideways smirk, “I’ll keep that in mind.”


An excited yelp drew their attention back towards the main cavern. Shepard couldn’t help the smile that rose as she spotted the purple-striped Varren coming towards them. When she realized it was limping, her smile faltered, and she shot a worried expression towards the Turian beside her.


“You know, it’s funny. Out of all of us, Grunt should have been the most hurt, next to you of course. Then again, out of all of us, he was the one to walk away without a scratch.” Garrus reminisced aloud, knowing exactly where her concern had been.


Reassured, the Commander crouched slightly lower to greet Urz, her body protesting as she did so, “Probably not such a good idea…” Shepard grunted to herself. But she couldn’t help brightening as the Varren panted happily. Falling for its alien puppy-dog eyes, she gave in and remained crouched, scratching its head, “But what the heck. You risked your life for mine, the least I can do is suffer some slight muscle spasms.”


“All right, enough playtime.” Garrus said as he reached over, helping Shepard haul herself to her feet, “Wouldn’t want to set your healing time back even further.”


“Hey, I’m not exactly a glass figurine, you know.” Shepard replied, though her fake frown turned into a grin, “But it’s nice to know there’s a caring Turian heart under all those cold scales.”


“Hah, more like I don’t want to hear it when the big mass of muscle we call our teammate comes over to rip my ear off.” Garrus joked.


“You don’t have ears.” Shepard smiled at her obvious observation.


“That’s… not the point.”


Shepard sighed loudly as she looked around, “Don’t tell me you’re on babysitting duty.”


“So says the baby.”


“Aw Garrus, come on! You know how bad my itch is to move around. Especially after being restricted to a bed for medical reasons.”


“You were unconscious throughout the entire thing…”


“So? Garrus. Garrus, come on. You could say I knocked you out. You went to take a leak. You turned around and I was gone. Come on! Any of those would work.”


The Turian’s scaled brow twitched, as he replied, “Definitely not the first one.”


“So you’ll do it?” Shepard asked excitedly.


“Or the second. Or the third for that matter.” Garrus continued.


“Great!” The Commander hobbled off, “You’re the best. Just make something up.”


“I won’t be responsible for whatever happens out there.” Garrus called after the stubborn woman, “My babysitting position is relieved. Officially. As of now.”


When he realized she was gone, the Turian rested more comfortably against the wall. He wondered just how much trouble they were both going to get in. But he had known Shepard long enough that to deny something she was set out to get would only increase her drive to get it even further.


That was Shepard for you.

-o-o-o-

Shepard was strolling along, minding her own business, when a Krogan stepped casually in her path.


“You know… this is REALLY starting to get old.” Shepard sighed aloud, bringing her gaze slowly upwards to meet those of her obstructer. You’d think Krogans could simply grunt to get your attention.


Or something, anything, else.


Really, the Commander wouldn’t mind even a good, old-fashioned, punch to the face.


“You are the human female, Shepard.” What was it with Krogans and asking questions that sounded more like statements?


“Very observant of you. Yes. Now move before I make you move.” Shepard growled, attempting to step around the red-plated behemoth.


“My apologies, battlemaster, I… was just about to ask if you wanted to eat.” His voice rumbled out slowly.


Shepard paused, turning back to the Krogan as she gave him a closer look. His scales were a deep crimson, a tint of flaming orange around the edges. His black eyes looked straight at her, though they wandered off out in the cavern as he awaited her answer, as though it he didn’t put much stock in her answer.


The Commander suppressed a gurgle of hunger from her stomach, deciding maybe it was good to fill the emptiness with something. Meeting more than a handful of Thresher Maws in one day took it right out of a girl, after all.


“Hell,” Shepard grinned, “why not. Some grub sounds good right about now.”


His tough, plated face unfurled into a smile. One of his large arms was held outstretched, as he directed her, “Then this way, Shepard. It would be my pleasure to escort you.”


Shepard eyed him, wondering at his choice of words. She seriously hoped he wasn’t getting any ideas. She scrutinized him for a couple seconds. The way he held himself, seemed very reassured, as though he had seen many seasons of fighting. Confidence was something he clearly didn’t lack.


She felt a tingle race up her spine as she briefly caught the way he was looking at her. It’s intensity had a ring of familiarity to it, as though there was someone… But it had been for the shortest of moments, then it was gone. She frowned in concentration for a few more seconds, still wondering. Then she realized she was just too damn tired and hungry to care.


“Whatever floats your boat.” She shrugged, following his lead.

-o-o-o-

“Listen, like I said before, I’m no goddamn babysitter.” Garrus grated through hardened, scaled, lips.


“Did you see her? Shepard should’ve been in bed for at least a few days!” The piece of stone wall Grunt had been gripping suddenly crumbled into a whole bunch of dust.


“You, my friend, have obviously not been around her long enough.” The Turian said, not intimidated in the least. Here was a few hundred pounds of angry Krogan muscle before him, and he was as calm as though they were commenting on the shininess of a new rifle. Garrus continued, “Besides, the upgrades Cerberus has given her speeds up her healing. What could take months could possibly retract to the fewest of days. Hell, maybe even hours.”


Grunt was silent for only a few seconds before he grumbled, “That may be, but even the slightest weakness right now is not in her best interest.”


“I think the Commander can handle her-“ Garrus didn’t even get to finish the sentence. All of a sudden Grunt was just there. His fist slammed into the wall beside the Turian’s head. The azure-scaled sniper even flinched at the sudden and unexpected violence from one of his newer squad mates.


“She does not even KNOW what she’s gotten herself into.” Grunt snarled, shooting a fierce glare into surprised grey eyes before pacing off angrily, “We’ve defeated a Thresher Maw. She has proven her worth. Been accepted by the Clan. There are numerous, available males around. And she-“


“Wait, are you telling me all these Krogan hotheads are gonna try and mate with her?” Garrus asked incredulously, watching the silver-plated one pacing in their small, temporary living space, “I’m sure she can handle a few-“


Grunt stopped dead in his tracks to throw a deadpan stare the Turian’s way, “Some don’t take too kindly to asking politely.”

-o-o-o-

She tried really hard not to notice the looks they were getting. Or the none-too-few growls her traveling companion was giving towards the ones who would attempt to approach them. She didn’t know what was up with everyone. All she knew, is that she was on a short fuse right now, and she was getting frustrated more and more by the second.


Not only was it annoying with whatever it was the Krogans were doing by trying to approach her time and time again, but it was even more annoying that this Krogan was taking matters into his own hands. Like she couldn’t handle her own problems.


A particularly large, grey-plated Krogan approached them, a bristle to his step. Exhaling loudly, Shepard stepped in front of her traveling companion, giving him a hardened stare, “Look, I got this.”


“You are wounded, still healing.” The crimson warrior protested.


“I can handle this.” Shepard responded, determined.


She wasn’t prepared for how close the grey Krogan was when she turned around, the words slipping out of her lips without thought, “Woah, big guy.”


He expression brightened at these words, and the new guy replied hastily, “Yes, now you come with me. I’ll show you the true strength of my size.”


“What-“ Shepard was about to growl, but was abruptly cut off as her red-plated friend delicately shoved her aside.


“That is no way to talk to the lady.” The big red Krogan growled.


“She has given her approval. I may speak any way I choose.” The big grey replied angrily.


“This lady has a name.” Shepard stated, shoving past the crimson Krogan to question the grey one, “And what the hell are you talking about?”


“You have attested to my immense size. I have passed your test. Now we shall pass mine.” The big grey said eagerly, gripping the Commander’s arm none-too-lightly in his excitement.


Any other time, Shepard would have easily maneuvered a way to flip the other for a cold, hard meeting with the floor. Either that or twisted his arm until he saw the stars. This time, however, he had grabbed the arm that was in a cast.


The pain was so intense it not only rooted her to the spot, it also spiked all the way from her nerves to the ends of her hair. Her eyes scrunched as she cursed unintelligibly.


Through the haze, she saw the red guy taking a step forward to her aid. The grey one was already half-dragging her to whatever place to finish her off, the new angle on her arm making her cry out in pain.


Then suddenly it felt as though the ground quaked beneath her feet.


An enraged roar filled her eardrums. What happened next was so fast, it was a blur. There was a loud snap and a roar of pain. The movement of large bodies around her. And finally a sense of vertigo as her feet left the ground.


But that didn’t matter, because suddenly the pain was gone.


She was pressed against a muscled, plated chest. The crackle of a fortification shield tickled against her skin, a wonderful relief to the intense pain from moments before. She opened her eyes, taking in the fact that she was being cradled to an immense Krogan chest like a child.


“What is the meaning of this?!” A familiar voice rumbled fiercely from the chest she was held against.


Her eyes, slowly clearing up from the fog of pain, darted off to the side. The grey Krogan was on the ground, pressing a clearly bloodied and broken arm to his side. The red-plated warrior was on the ground as well, though he looked more caught off guard than anything else.


When Shepard brought her eyes back up to her rescuer, her voice rang out curiously, “Grunt?”


When his fierce blue eyes met hers, she almost jerked back from the intense amount of anger emanating from them.


She was never one to back down from a fight.


But Shepard found herself seriously hoping she was not the one who had managed to piss the Krogan off so badly.