Chapter Text
Tiran Kandros almost couldn't believe it, but he was sick and tired of artificial sunlight. He was sick and tired of glossy white tiling, of the polite voices of newscasters, of seeing the same people day in and day out. He couldn't avoid the truth any longer - Tiran Kandros was finally, finally sick and tired of the Nexus.
He had loved everything about the Nexus since he first saw it in the brochures, since he first heard Jien Garson's smooth voice telling him about what a paradise it was going to be, and since he first stepped out of cryo, feet like jelly, eyes turned up towards a fake sky, and he felt his body ease. He was home, he had thought to himself quietly, unsure if what he felt was cryo-induced delirium.
Tiran Kandros was a turian who had never felt at home anywhere. There had always been a strange uneasiness to his life, a feeling of "something's not quite right". It had been a nagging suspicion that had turned into a fully fledged existential crisis which turned into him literally leaving the galaxy to find himself.
Turns out, he found himself becoming the Head of Security, piggybacking off the mutiny of the woman who held the title before him.
And yet, even as his career hit astronomical heights and he caught other turians looking at him like he was in charge, the same old suspicions began to dog him. He was still, for all intents and purposes, in the military (albeit, given more power than he had ever thought he'd attain on Palaven) and he found it ironic that he had escaped the Milky Way to run away from the familial expectations of military life and ended up in a position that would have made his old man proud. He had hated the way everybody had looked at him - like he was some boring turian stereotype, all military valor and inability to emote. He had hated military bureaucracy, the thousands of little details and the miles of red tape, the mundane lifestyle it had been.
He had heard Jien Garson speak, and could see himself escaping from everything that was holding him back. As she described her vision, he could see his childish dreams playing out; he heard excitement and wonder, and discovering worlds he'd never imagined.
And now here he was - being shuttled from meeting to meeting, listening to Addison drone on about resettlement figures and watching Kesh and Tann argue over the proper way of waste disposal for carrier shuttles.
There likely wasn't a turian on the Nexus who could sympathize with him - they would have found it ungrateful that he was complaining about a position he had basically fallen into, ass-first. He had cushy benefits - a beautiful apartment, extra rations, and most importantly authority over every single person on the station. He should be happy.
Why wasn't he happy?
Tiran blinked and he was back to the quiet hum of Operations, the sound of movement and activity around him intensifying as he approached his desk. He really needed an assistant, he thought to himself, looking over the schedule displaying on his holopad. His eyes were darting across the screen and scanning for ten free minutes - ten minutes to catch his breath, or use the bathroom, or eat - and he almost didn't notice the woman approaching his desk.
"Uh, Kandros?"
Sara Ryder was about the farthest thing from physically imposing, but her recent exploits had made her a high profile traveler on the Nexus, which is why her voice made Kandros start. He had tried to keep a track of traveling diplomats and dignitaries, but Ryder's name hadn't popped up on his visitor logs, nor had the Tempest been registered in the docking bay. "Ryder. What a surprise - did you dock your ship properly?"
"Uh, I don't think we lost her. She's sort of difficult to misplace."
The corners of Ryder's face twisted upwards. Humans were so obvious with emotions - they had taken training in academy to learn what each meant, to decode human intentions and how humans wore their hearts on their faces - and Ryder was certainly no exception.
"I meant," Kandros began patiently. "That you didn't register the Tempest in the docks. We keep an eye on these things."
"You keeping tabs on me, Kandros?" her voice was light and the smile was steadily widening.
His eyes widened for a moment. "Not you, in particular. Your whole crew. I mean, of course we do have to monitor you - being the pathfinder and all -"
"Monitor me? Buy me a drink first, Kandros."
"What does that have to do with anything - ah. I see. You're joking." His voice, which had been slightly alarmed, flattened as he realized she was pulling his leg. Human sensitivity training had also entailed learning their strange sense of humor, which some turians had taken to more than others.
"Kandros, I actually came here to talk to you about something. We wanted this to be a quick visit - I'm actually avoiding Tann, which is why we need all the cloak and dagger."
He hadn't recognized the expression, but he understood the gist. "You avoiding Tann because you don't want to hear one of his speeches, or are you in trouble?"
Her smile slipped as she looked at him, and he could almost hear her thoughts. She's not sure if she can trust me, he thinks to himself. She's debating whether or not she can tell me something.
"I don't know you very well, Kandros. But I can tell you care about the wellbeing of the people on this station - and you're one of the few people I can say that for, with complete confidence."
Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't that. His eyes drifted to his holopad, where he cancelled his first meeting. The Angaran councilor would have to wait - there was something he didn't like about the urgency in her voice, something that unsettled him in the worst way.
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"How well did you know Sloane Kelly?"
His office was austere and extremely well kept - he liked to keep things organized and in their place. Ryder looked very much out of place - splaying herself out over the chair and kicking her feet up. Even more unsettling is her mention of the familiar name.
"I didn't know her half as well as I thought I did," he said slowly. "But I didn't hate her when I knew her. I thought she was capable."
"I felt the same way," Sara said softly. "I didn't like the way she ran Kadara - but I still feel guilty as hell when I think about - ah, nevermind."
There was something about the way she turned slightly from him after saying that that made Tiran realize whatever she was about to admit might potentially be illegal. "Ryder, you gonna tell me what this is about at any point today?"
"Right, sorry. Anyways, Sloane Kelly was a tyrant. No way around that - but she still commanded loyalty across Kadara, even if that loyalty was fear. I thought that with her gone, people would be happy - but I underestimated her ability to command loyalty, even from beyond the grave."
She was a tad bit overdramatic, he thought to himself. "You can't be loyal to a ghost. I see what you're trying to say here, Ryder, but I'm still not sure how this connects to the Nexus -"
"I suspect that there may be people on the Nexus sympathetic to Sloane who didn't join her initial exodus - people who may have known her second in command, Kaetus, who escaped from prison a month ago and plans on killing me."
Definitely overdramatic, he thought to himself. Reeling, he leans over his desk, disbelief evident in his voice. "Okay, so - you think that there will be an attempt on your life by a turian who was previously loyal to the deceased Sloane Kelly, and that this individual poses a threat to the Nexus because of their ties to people on the Nexus who may potentially be compromised?"
"Yes."
Tiran glanced at the case of brandy behind her. "Ryder, answer me carefully. Have you had anything to drink before seeing me?"
Frustrated, Ryder sighs and rolls her eyes. "I knew you wouldn't believe me. SAM, forward Tiran Kandros the communications we found on Kadara from the wrecked cruiser." Kandros couldn't hear SAM's response, but he felt his omnitool buzz and he opened up a massive text log.
"Kandros, those are logs we found on a busted omni-tool between an exile and Kaetus - there are people on Kadara who are...resistant to the recent political changes. I believe they may be exploiting contacts on the Nexus to skim ammunition and supplies, and may even be preparing for an attack on the station."
She paused to give him time to skim through the logs. There was clearly an attempt at masking identities, but the implications of some of the phrasings mentioned in the logs were troubling. There was detailed information on Nexus shipping drops and classified Initiative pass-codes. He could feel himself growing less skeptical and more concerned.
"The threat to my personal safety from Kaetus is laughable, so I'm not even going to ask you to worry about that - but I am asking you to look into some of the people you work with."
She was so cocky, he thought to himself. He'd be slightly worried if he knew there was somebody out to personally kill him, but she looked far from troubled about it. There was something slightly enviable in the way she carried herself, even if he acknowledged that it was brash and foolish to be so cavalier about a death threat.
"Sloane was the head of security - but I can't think of anyone under my command who would willingly risk their post for her, especially now. Listen, Ryder - I'll look into this, and I'll also assign you protection. I can't risk -"
Ryder laughed at the suggestion. "Hey, Kandros, I'm not staying here long enough to need protection. And besides, you're going to assign me a protection detail with one of the men we're not sure if we trust? Probably not the best idea."
His mandibles flared at the thought of anyone working with him, or anyone he saw on a daily basis working behind his back against him. "Then head straight back to the Tempest and get out of here, Ryder. I'll handle this."
"Don't worry about me, Kandros. I've been taking care of myself for a while. And besides," the smile was back on her face, in full force. "It's been months since I've had a chance to relax - I'm going to get a nice, stiff drink. Is Dutch working tonight?"
For such a soft species, humans seemed to be incredibly reckless. That was something evolution should have corrected for - or maybe it was just Sara Ryder who was missing the gene for self-preservation. She uncrossed her legs and stood up, sauntering towards the door.
"Ryder - what made you think you could trust me?"
He asked the question quickly, before she had a chance to run out the door. He was curious - after all, they hadn't been particularly close and he could have very well been a spy. She paused at the door and looked over her shoulder. "Because I knew I could trust you from the moment I met you, Kandros. You're one of those upright do-gooder types. I could feel it."
He wasn't sure if he liked that answer, and there was something about the way it was phrased that made him wonder if she was being slightly...too familiar? There was also another part of him that was intrigued by the thought. Before he could process the thought or think to reply, she continued, "Also, I had SAM analyze your vitals as we were speaking. He couldn't detect any signs of deception, which means either you're a better liar than anyone I've ever met, or you're exactly the guy I thought you were."
She winks and closes the door behind her, leaving him sputtering and flustered behind her.
****