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“Battlemaster.”
It isn’t the krogan’s arrival in his office or the way he still refers to him as Battlemaster almost two years after the reaper war that pulls Caleb’s attention from the datapad. No, it’s the fairy-light laughter as his daughter ducks just out of sight in the hallway behind Grunt and the more reserved, cough-blanketed chuckles of his son who thinks he goes unseen around the corner of the door. Eyes slowly rising, Caleb sets the datapad on his desk, folding his hands in front of him as he takes in the scene before him.
To say that it is nothing like what he expects from the tank-born is an understatement. His children, on the other hand...
“Grunt, why are you dressed like that?”
The better question might be how, but if there’s one thing he’s learned with Tadhg and Niamh, it is that starting from the beginning and working his way forward gets him at least the semblance of a complete answer more often than not.
The fierce krogan warrior and head of Aralakh Company puffs out his chest proudly as he relates his tale. “Li’l Sis and Tiger Brother explained about the upcoming human tradition –”
Caleb’s eyes dart to his left, catching his two imps still giggling away, though both now are within direct line of sight. “Aye, Samhain.”
The krogan’s brows fold into a V-shape. “No, Battlemaster. Halloween.”
Tadhg keeps his eyes expectantly on Grunt’s back while Niamh shakes so hard her hair floats around her shoulders. Something is afoot, and Caleb is certain the kids are behind it, but as of yet, nothing beyond that makes sense.
Pulling his attention back to the krogan, Caleb eyes him head to foot a second time. “Aye," he agrees. “Halloween.”
The holiday, as they celebrate it in this country, wasn't particularly popular in Shannon when Caleb was a child. But once Tadhg and Niamh heard about it at school the year before and Kaidan explained about the traditions that went along with it, they very quickly insisted on adopting it. Costumes, parties, trick-or-treating – the works.
Caleb’s calendar still shows a few days before the celebrations, however. Both children have costumes tucked away in their closets; the softest and daintiest of fairy costumes for Niamh, complete with glittery crown, delicate wings and a ‘gold’ wand – a present from Aunt Abby. Tadhg’s is more predictable – a down-sized set of Alliance armor that used to be Kaidan’s, complete with battle scars. He and Kaidan had worked on it the whole weekend last time Papa was home.
Yet none of that explains why the six and a half foot tall krogan warrior stands before Caleb wearing big floppy shoes, oversized pants and two big black circles made from construction paper stuck to his forehead.
Clearly, the children have a plan.
Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk, Caleb props his chin on his hands. “And this is your…costume?” Another peal of delighted giggles fills the hallway. “Just who are you supposed to be?”
Confusion fills Grunts eyes. “You mean…you don’t know?”
There have been a few moments since adopting the kids that Caleb has felt that black hole of doubt as a parent; the sinking sensation that he’s missed something very obvious that is clear to everyone else except him. They are few and far between, thankfully, but they are far more frightening than facing waves of cannibals, husks, brutes and banshees in London at the end of the war.
“Daidí!”
Niamh’s reproachful hiss and Tadhg’s heavy sigh confirm Caleb’s done it again.
Swallowing panic, Caleb eyes the outfit once more…if it can be called such.
Grunt shifts on his feet and it’s with the movement that Caleb notices one more detail he'd missed earlier – two pointed protrusions from the sides of his head near the top. They jag just a bit, forming an odd sort of pincer look or partial Z shape, and in that fraction of a second, Caleb is taken back to Tuchanka…and before that, Akuze…
“You are a thresher maw?”
The words escape before he can stop them, but he knows he has the right of it when Niamh squeals and claps her hands, when Tadhg grins and nods, and when Grunt’s eyes shine as he nods his approval. "Kalros," Grunt confirms.
It's to be expected, Caleb supposes, especially considering the importance of the time he and Grunt faced off against the thing. Still, the costume looks nothing like a thresher maw. Clearing his throat, Caleb joins them by the door. Lifting his daughter into his arms, he tweaks her nose then reaches over to ruffle Tadhg's hair. Smiling at Grunt, he assures him, "You will no doubt terrify everyone who sees you."
Grunt's laughter follows them down the hall as they head into the main part of the house. "Excellent..."