Chapter Text
“This mission just got a lot more complicated,” Anderson said ominously, before stalking out of the communication room to the bridge. That left her and Nihlus alone again, each of them staring at the screen where the image of the insectile ship hung frozen like an open hand, glaringly black with red streaks of electric arcs coming off it.
“How long until we get there?” Nihlus asked, breaking the silence.
“Joker said about fifteen minutes or so.”
“Pull up a chair, Commander, we have some things to discuss.”
“Yeah, we do.”
***
Henna Shepard looked over the Vancouver skyline with something like wistfulness. Alliance Command had given her and the crew a final night of shore leave as they waited for their...guest. Most of the scuttlebutt seemed to revolve around it being some kind of Hierarchy dignitary, since the Normandy was a joint venture – turian design, human crew. This shakedown mission was just a quick jaunt, after all. No need for a lot of fanfare before the 'official' first mission into deep space patrolling along the edges of the Traverse.
Henna wasn't much for night life these days. In a way she'd gotten her fill of it, growing up on Earth, living much of her life on the streets before joining the Alliance. And all shore leaves were forever tainted by Elysium.
Enough, she scoffed to herself. That was 7 years ago. You should have gotten over it by now.
The twinkling of her Star of Terra suggested otherwise in her mind.
Still, this night would be her last on Earth for quite some time; she might as well enjoy it. She left Alliance Command's tall block building and took a skycab downtown, hoping to find a nice quiet restaurant for some decent food before shipboard rations became the norm once more.
On a whim – since joint ventures were on her mind – she went to Janus, a dual chirality place just a few miles from the Alliance complex, deep in the heart of the megatropolis. It had only opened a couple months ago, and had made a name for itself already by way of protests against its existence. On Earth there was still a lot of resentment towards turians. Especially from older generations. Turians didn't bother her. Really, no aliens did, not even batarians. The fact that she was living in a real life sci-fi vid actually tickled her fancy.
She was seated in short order, after giving the place a quick once over and finding herself to be the only human other than the staff. The young woman who was her server seemed grateful for her presence, either because she was an obviously 'local' customer or because she was patently nonchalant about the number of turians quietly dining. For there were quite a few, despite the early hour.
“The levo list is on the left,” the server said as she handed her a menu. Henna smiled; levo on the left, dextro on the right. Cute. Just like the restaurant's logo with its two faces, a profile of each race. She decided on fried pork chops with a side of mashed potatoes and a medley of seasonal vegetables, and ordered a beer from the bar. When her food came, she decided she liked the place. It was good.
“Excuse me,” a deep, flanged voice interrupted her methodical eating. She looked up into a dark russet turian face, contrasted attractively with graceful white colony markings. His eyes were as vibrantly green as her own.
“Yes?”
“May I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“You appear to be a soldier, and yet you came here for dinner.”
“That wasn't a question.”
The turian smiled – at least, she thought it was a smile. Hard to tell with mandibles. But they had flared, showing off pointed teeth. And there was something lighter about the eyes, something reminiscent of the way a human's would twinkle with amusement or joy.
“All right, then. Why?”
She settled back and gave the turian an assessing look. He was tall, God all of them were, but he seemed to tower. 6'5 at least. Probably more. He didn't seem aggressive or displeased that she was there, merely curious.
“Wanted somewhere quiet. And I wanted to check it out before I left town.”
“Are you going somewhere?”
The Normandy was talked about in the media as a project, and as a peaceful cooperation between their two races. But she didn't know how turians felt about that, nor did she think Captain Anderson would thank her for blabbing about it to a stranger. So she just smiled and nodded.
“May I...?” he gestured to the chair opposite hers at the table. She nodded again and watched him fold his tall, frankly gangly frame into it.
“The food on my side of the menu is pretty good, how's yours?” she asked conversationally, still eating.
“Not bad, all things considered. I imagine the cost of getting dextro stock is high, but the chef knows what he's doing with it.”
She stuck out her hand, remembering at the last second that his race didn't really use that for greeting and introduction. Before she could take it back, however, he grasped it and gave her a brief squeeze and shake. “Henna,” she said.
“Call me Nih.”
“Nice to meet you. On Earth for business or pleasure?”
“Both, I'd say. I travel a lot for my job. Earth is...interesting.”
“That's diplomatic.”
He smiled again. She found herself growing used to it, finding some nuance in the way the bony jaw protrusions moved and expressed emotion. “Vancouver is a bit cold for my personal taste.”
“Do turians take issue with temperate weather?”
“More or less. We tend to run a bit on the cool side among the galactic races, and our homeworld is rather warm compared to others.”
“Forgive me if this is rude, but did I read that turians are descended from birds?”
He shifted his head around, not quite like a shrug, but not really a nod or shake either. “I've heard humans call us more dinosaurs than anything.”
The flat tone and almost deadpan delivery surprised her. Sure, she knew calling a turian 'dinosaur' was about as bad as 'skullface' as epithets went, but she couldn't deny there were similarities. And apparently he didn't either, since he punctuated his words with another flaring grin.
“I'm mostly asking out of curiosity. You say you run cooler. Does that mean you don't have...what's it called...homeostasis?”
“We do, it's just inefficient. From what I understand of human biology, you are omnivores, yes?” She gestured at the variety on her plate and he nodded. “We are not. Our bodies do not store extra calories as fat very well. I suppose you could say we lack insulation.”
That made her laugh, as did the sudden turn of events for her evening. She was enjoying his unexpected company. And he seemed to be enjoying hers. It didn't seem to be a bad start for interspecies familiarity. He signaled the server and ordered another beer for her and a dextro one for himself.
“My turn,” he said when their drinks arrived. “Isn't henna a type of ink?”
“Yes, it is. I'm surprised a turian would know that, no offense.”
He gestured at his face. “Call it something that stands out culturally, as a form of marking.”
She nodded, thinking about the N7 tattoo on her upper arm. “Okay, I get it. In my case, it's just short for Jehanne.”
He was giving her a thorough look now. “Jehanne. Would that be Jehanne Shepard?” he asked after a moment.
This is it, she thought. Once they recognize my name, it's all over.
“Yes,” she answered, wary.
“I thought you looked familiar. Commander,” he inclined his head briefly. “You showed remarkable courage and skill at the Blitz. It made you something of a celebrity, didn't it?”
She made a face, equal parts disparagement and accepting. “Yeah.”
“It can be hard to live with.”
“Oh, would you know about that?”
“Some. Turians don't place the same sort of entertainment value on our heroes. Doing one's duty should be enough of a reward. You humans love to gossip, though, and put people on pedestals, if that's the right expression.”
“Ah, yes. Meritocracy, right? And yeah, that's the right expression.”
“You're well informed on the Hierarchy.”
“Alliance,” she said with a shrug of one shoulder. “I've studied your race, its history and whatnot. Well, really, we've gotten a crash course on all the races. It's a bit mind boggling, I'll admit. But...fascinating.”
“Hmm, fascinating,” he echoed her, and his voice had distinctly dropped from polite to interested. She wondered what it would be like...
“You wanna stay here and exchange cultural differences or you wanna get out here and experience some?” she asked boldly. His gaze turned calculating, but he smiled just the same. Without another word he signaled for the check.
***
She woke in an unfamiliar bed, although that in itself wasn't strange. She was a soldier on shore leave; she didn't have a normal to speak of. No, what was strange was waking to the feel of someone else moving next to her. Someone a lot less soft and pliable than she was.
She turned and saw Nih looking at her, his head propped on his fist in a more recognizable gesture than she'd seen yet from an alien.
“Morning,” she managed.
“It is.”
“I...uh...”
“Yes?” In the light of day, his face was much more readable, or maybe after last night she was just more attuned to it. She shifted experimentally and felt twinges in places she hadn't felt in a long time. But she was also more relaxed than she'd been in a long time too. Incredibly so.
“Is it a bit awkward now?” she asked.
“Why?” He trailed his free hand down her arm, his talons light against her skin. He traced the tattoo he'd been highly entertained to find after their conversation about markings. Goosebumps rose and remembered sensation made her flush. She wouldn't have said no to another round, she was startled to discover, chafed skin notwithstanding. Worth it, she thought.
“Okay...maybe it isn't.” She gave him a smile and he matched it. After several more bars, a drunken near brawl with some xenophobes and a race to stay ahead of Vancouver police, she had no idea how they'd ended up...wherever they were. “Where are we?”
“The hotel across from Alliance Command.” Well, that was probably...good. She wouldn't have far to go to get back to the ship. And if they were technically on the base, there was likely no fallout to face from their shenanigans of the previous night.
“I should go,” she said, somewhat sadly. She would have liked to linger, maybe get some room service. But the light shining through the window showed plainly that it was already well into the morning. And she needed to check in and get herself settled before the evening take off.
Nih seemed to regret that she had to leave too, if his sigh meant anything. “I should let you,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “Henna...”
“No big thing, right?”
His face took on an aspect she would normally have considered to be a raised eyebrow. “I seem to recall you saying something entirely different...”
“You're horrible,” she laughed and swatted him. Still, the banter shook off any lingering sense of weirdness and she threw back the covers with a flip. He watched her gather up her things and get dressed. This must have been his room already, his belongings were scattered all over the place. Made sense for any visiting turians to be kept under close eye of the Alliance. “I'll see you around?”
“Perhaps,” he rejoined, still watching her from a lounging position in the bed. He looked...rumpled. Which was an odd thing to say about a turian. But he seemed entirely comfortable with his nudity in the human bed, the sheets haphazardly draped over his sharp edges, softening them. She left the hotel room before the weirdness returned and determinedly did not let it feel like it was a walk of shame.
***
“Commander, this is Spectre Kryik, representing both the Council and the Hierarchy,” Anderson said, introducing her to their 'guest'. It was one thing to see him in civvies, another entirely to see him naked. And now to see him in battleworn armor, carrying a duffel she'd glimpsed only hours ago....
“You should have told me,” she said, her voice low and abruptly angry. She really should have put it together before this moment. She was usually more observant than that.
“Need to know basis, Commander,” Nihlus said, the subvocals warming her to the core in a way that should have been unwelcome now that she knew who he was. Nope, still hot. She turned to her Captain and took a short breath, calming herself.
“We've met,” she said. She turned back to Nih. Nihlus. Spectre Kryik. “No big thing, right?”
If he heard the challenge in her voice, he made no sign of it. “Indeed.”
***
“Is this going to affect our working relationship?” Henna asked as she settled into one of the chairs set in a semi-circle around the room. Nihlus sat across from her, his mandibles flickering just once before settling in tight against his teeth.
“No. I wanted to talk about strategy for once we hit the surface.”
“Still planning to do a split drop and head off on your own?” She shook her head, signifying how she felt about that. “I understand that as a Spectre you're used to working alone. But the circumstances have shifted. We don't know what that ship is capable of, who it is or what they're after. Yeah, we can assume it's after this beacon, but that's an assumption. Humans have a saying about that.”
“I am aware.” Nihlus looked at the screen again. He sighed. “I don't like surprises.”
“That makes two of us.”
His gaze flicked back to her, green eyes piercing. She may not be able to read all of his subvocals, but he apparently knew humans well enough to know the difference between sardonic and sarcastic. “If I said I was sorry about not telling you who I was, would it matter now?”
“It might. I don't make a habit of one night stands with turians who have ulterior motives.”
His mandibles flickered again, a quick movement that she couldn't read. “Does that mean you make a habit of one night stands with turians?” Ah, amused.
“Do you make a habit of it with humans?”
“I wouldn't call it a habit...”
“I see.”
“Not all turians despise humans, Shepard. And you are evidence that not all humans carry a grudge.”
She snorted. “I was ten when the First Contact War happened, Nihlus. Galactic politics didn't have much place in a street rat's life. If nothing else, I'll give you full marks for reconnaissance.”
Better than being pissy about it, considering what he's offering you, she thought privately. Spectre Shepard. Has a nice ring to it.
He tilted his head, acknowledging her words. “For what it's worth, I am sorry I couldn't tell you. I hope you understand why.”
“Sure. No harm, no foul. Now, we have a mission to do. We should figure out a plan for it.”
“Fair enough.”