Chapter Text
Thraxis Kaine doesn’t remember what hit him, but he sits up with a start as if from a nightmare. A hand on his shoulder pushes him back to the bed. “Easy.” The familiar voice says with concern. He flops backward in a momentary loss of balance his hands clutching a blanket. He stills, looking down, shaking off the shock.
He looked up to golden orbs looking down at him with concern. “Adrien?” Thraxis coughed after speaking, voice strained. He looked around bleary eyed before laying back, things at a distance were not coming into focus. “Where-”
“Threntil Hospital.” His companion swallowed before moving back slightly to sit beside him. “Menae.” The word made dread well up in Thraxis’ gizzard. Reaching up to rub the bleariness out of his eyes he tried to focus.
Threntil Hospital on Palaven was a well-known medical center. The facility on the moon was where Turians went to vanish or die.
“You know.” Thraxis took a breath. “They know…” He spoke of the hierarchy as a whole, and it wasn’t a question. He sighed, and bit down on his lower lip plate.
“Yes and no.” Adrien Victus scooted forward in his chair nearer the bed. “The military court knows. They thought I might soften the blow as your friend, but I doubt anything I say will make much difference.” He said calmly folding his hands in between his knees. “Nothing I can say will do anything to change what’s happened. It won’t bring back your rank, marks, or former life.”
“What’s the damage?” Thrax looked down, hands coming up to touch his face plates. feeling smooth plate where the paint had been sanded off. He let out shaky breath, hands touching the blanket over his legs, fingertips smoothing out the small bumps in the grey fabric.
“You were too high up for them to denounce you. So you are listed as killed in action and your biotics are being covered up. Honorable death.” He nods. “Your wife will get your pension.” He shrugged. “Your marks have been stripped, and you’ll be given clothing and a credit chit.” He sighed. “You are banished, after you’re healthy enough to travel you’ll be put on a transport.” Adrien shook his head. “It was all I could manage for you.” He says softly. “There were a few calling for your execution, and I did what I could. Your service to Palaven ultimately saved you. ”
“Exile.” Thraxis sighed and closed his eyes forcing back the stinging tears that dared to undo him. He opened his eyes once more, slowly, putting on the best stoic face he could, and holding it as best he could.
Thraxis looked down at his wrists. Large metal bands covered his wrists. “Precautionary.” He said of the biotic inhibitors. Thraxis had seen them in a museum once, but never imagined he’d ever be wearing external inhibitors. “Can’t have you blasting a hole in the wall.”
“But they’ll come off when I’m exiled?”
Brightness fell out of Adrian’s eyes at the tone. “Yes.” Adrian shook his head and sighed. “Thrax, tell me what happened out there.” Adrien asked calmly. “I’m not here to pass judgment my friend. That’s already happened.” He sighed. “I just want to understand what when on down there.”
“Lt. Metril was ahead of me, we were so close to stopping them.” Thrax shifted slightly on the bed, sore.
“The slavers?” Adrien asked.
“Yes.” Thrax coughed into his hand before recovering. “I had two ensigns behind me. Thenris on the left, Adenelle on the right.” He motions to his left and right respectively. “They were on the run, the slavers, they had nowhere to go, and then they suddenly turned and advanced on us. Like something flipped a switch and they just turned to come our way. No fear, like their fear had been absolutely replaced by something else.”
“The Batarian slavers?” Victus clarified. “They were running scared and all of the sudden just turn and advance on you?” He inclined his head in disbelief.
“Yeah.” Thrax nodded sagely as he reached up to his shoulder. “They managed to take Metril hostage.” He scratched at the plate of his shoulder before lowering his arm. “I panicked.” He sighs deeply, regret bleeding into a groan as he let his head fall backward. Closing his eyes, he started to shake his head.
“You two were close?” Victus asked.
Thraxis’ head stopped its shaking and he leaned it forward and opened his eyes. “I have a feeling you already know that.” Thrax motioned to Adrien, but looked away. “We were involved.” He shook his head unable to make sense of it. “I got emotional, and once they put the gun to his head…”
“Is that what set you off?” Victus asked. “The weapon?”
“Yeah.” Thrax nodded again. “It did. When I’m angry I can control it, but-“
“But what, Thraxis?” Adrien leaned forward more, any further and he would have fallen out of the chair.
“When I’m scared I can’t control it.” He sighed. “I thought they were going to shoot him.” Thraxis balls his fists. “I- was afraid, and I biotically pushed the batarian over.” He shakes his head. “It wasn’t aimed well, I’m not skilled at it.” He explained looking at his hands.
“That’s when you got shot?” Adrien put a hand on his.
“Yes, sir.” He nodded. “That bullet was meant for Metril… I don’t know if my biotics set off the weapon or…” He sighs trailing off, but his head snapped up asking. “Is he safe?”
“Yes.” Adrien nodded. “Safe and back on Palaven with his outfit.”
“Who’s taking Command of the 17th division?” Thraxis asked. “They still have more patrols scheduled through the months. Reviews, and promotions I already put in for.” He seemed to a moment to forget what was happening. “I have reports I have yet to submit on my …” He raised his arm. His Omni-Tool gone.
“It has been confiscated. I can’t talk about it, or your former division.” Adrien stood up ignoring what he had brought up. “Thanks for speaking with me. Telling me your side of all this.”
“Adrien.” Thraxis doesn’t know what he’s going to say or what he expects to say. “Don’t-“ He shakes his head and it stops the general beside the bed. They are, were, friends.
“If you need anything, ask now.” He said. “But be forewarned there is not a lot I can do at present.”
“I don’t have a citadel issued Ident card.” He said softly. “Could I um get some IDs that will allow me to travel legally, and an Omni-Tool?”
Victus looks him over and decides that’s better than him being on the fringes. “Very well.” He nods. “I’ll see what I can do. But the IDs will be black listed for Palaven. I also can’t promise the best name.”
Thraxis nods. “I understand.”
He hikes the rucksack on his back and waits as the batarian scans his ID chip. “Thraxis Garlin.” He nods. “Business or pleasure?”
“Looking for work.” He said tightly keeping his hands on his pack. Garlin, a horrible low class Turian name, he thinks. There were hundreds of thousands of Garlins in the low classes on Palaven. Probably hundreds named Thraxis, probably why Adrien chose it.
“You and every other Turian outcast.” The guard said with a laugh as has he handed over the card. “Go ahead.” Aria didn’t really keep a record of who came in or out. However, some names always jumped out, good or bad, and Thrax was happy his name didn’t cause a stir.
Thrax took his card back, sliding it in the pocket of his long coat quickly to return both hands to his pack. Walking from the dock onto the bustling business district of Omega he looks up stunned at what he sees around him.
Pictures of an imposing Asari are everywhere, Aria he assumes, and he ignores her picture. moving to a terminal to search for apartments and a job. He has enough credits he could pay for a year of housing. He thinks mentally that he’ll find something month to month, in case this doesn’t work out.
He finds a small one room apartment, utilities included, Dextro kitchen. It’s less than he thinks it should be, but nonetheless he jots down the rental office address. It’s midday, if he leaves now he can get there before they close.
The rental office he finds is sparse, run by a female batarian. She tells him to “-look come back tomorrow.”, eager to leave, but he insists. He doesn’t want to sleep on the streets, at all. He doesn’t even want to be in a hotel. He wants to be somewhere he can fortify, and the apartment in question is just about perfect for that.
The apartment is on the bottom floor, in the basement of the building. “I told you it’s small.” She says fumbling with the keys. “But if you want it.” The door opens and he wonders if tiny is what she should have said.
Ducking under the doorway Thrax stands at full height in the room taking the studio in. He is just shorter than the ceiling, he makes a mental note to remind himself not to look down while standing or he’ll scrape his fringe. “It’s four fifty a month.” She says “Electricity and water included. We’ll have this junk tossed out.” She said of the furniture.
Thrax nods gently and speaks quicker than he should have. “I would like to pay two months ahead please. I’ll um pay 475 if the furniture can stay.” He nodded looking around. One exit, one window, very closed off, facing away from the other units into an alley. He thinks at one time this may have been a maintenance room. “This will do.” He nods gently.
She nodded seeming more chipper about pocking the extra credits each month. “Fine.” She as she motioned him to a door beside the kitchen. “Bathroom.” She says. “Dextro kitchen. We have only rented this to Turians, oh and that one Quarian on pilgrimage.” She explained. “Look keep it clean and the bugs won’t be an issue.”
“I appreciate the advice.” He walks around the apartment a moment, and touches the back of a worn out chair. Its oversized and perfect for a Turian. He turns now going to the kitchen to open a few cabinets, they are dusty and sparse. A few small plates and a few cracked shot glasses nothing else really. “Let’s return to the office and draw up the lease.” He shut the cabinet door gently. “This will suffice.”
“Very well.” She said moving to the door. “After you.”
Thrax hiked up his bag and moved with her out the door. She locked it behind herself and they moved to the leasing office.
Thraxis had priorities after signing a four-month lease. He went shopping: food, sheets, towels, and new locks he could code to his Omni-Tool. Coming back to the apartment, he didn’t want to call it home, he set himself up. Cleaning as he went to make it at least somewhere he could sleep.
He pushes the bed into the corner up against the wall to clear floor space, and makes it with the new grey and green sheets he’s purchased. Green, the color of his former facial marks, he chose it on impulse but he was always drawn to the color.
His head swims as he lies on the bed, he can smell its former occupant, despite the new sheets. Turian, and something he doesn’t recognize. He wonders if it’s human, or if it’s possibly Drell. He’s never been near either species for very long.
He rolls mindful of his shoulder and shuts his eyes with a sigh. He has never felt such loss. His body shakes against his will and he sobs, for the first time, and for the last time he mourns the loss of Palaeven, his marks, and his people.
The next few weeks were rough but manageable. He’d found a bookstore and had acquired reading materials; he had found a job at a bar called Scrawl, as a bouncer. Stand around all night and break up fights, it was like down time in a barracks. Keep the patrons happy, but don’t let them kill one another. Simple instructions and he could follow them.
He needed this job. He’s got a purchase he needs to make. He sees the paper advertisement on the back of the kitchen cabinet every time he goes for a small protein bar. Biotic inhibitor. 100,000 credits. Expensive devices, especially the sub dermal one that is on the poster on the cabinet back. He’ll need it, if he plans to return to Palaven, take a new name and rejoin his people. He has decided he’d stay in the low Garlin Caste…no one would bat a mandible at him. No one would know.
Sitting on his bed with the book in his hands he turned the page and smiled, the image of the vista described on the pages of the book was beautifully painted, and for a moment he lost himself in the idea of that mountainous view. Blue sky, where in the universe was sky that blue? He didn’t know, but he knew it was something he wanted to behold. White sand, it was also on his list. At some point, he decided, he may have to visit Earth.
His Omni-Tool pinging brought him out of his thoughts. Setting down the book he sat up and turned on the video chat. “This is Thrax.” He said calmly.
“Garlin, It’s Kliski.” A female Turnian appeared on the screen. “Could use you tonight.”
“Isn’t Baela the bouncer tonight?” Thrax asked.
“Got himself killed yesterday. Something about his wife and some human smuggler.” Kliski said softly with a shrug. “It’s Omega.” She frowned as if that was the best excuse anyone else had. “Can you come in?” She flitted her mandible around waiting.
“Yeah.” He folded his book down. “I’m on my way, give me 30 minutes.”
“Great thanks.” She nodded.
Honestly he didn’t mind the extra shift. It never hurt to have more credits to put back. After his shift completed he’d turned in his side arm and slid down into a stool at the bar. “What’s you’re pleasure handsome?” Kliski asked sliding up near him.
“Turian Tulip or whatever you called that drink.” He pointed to the bar. “I would like another of those.”
“Liked that did you?” She nodded and turned around gathering materials to mix his drink. She returned and slid the glass to him. “On the house for coming in like you did.”
Thrax nodded taking the drink in his hands gently. He grabbed a napkin off the bar and held it. Old habits, he thought of setting it under his glass, perhaps he should break this particular habit. Ingrained. He shrugged off the mental conversation and looked up at the expectant barmaid. “Thank you Kliski.” He set the napkin down and his drink atop it.
“So when are you going to take me on a date?” She asked; like she had since the night he started. “Doesn’t have to be fancy.”
He laughed. “I am not interested.” He said firmly.
“Not into the girls huh?” She said softly with a pout. “Or is it me? I’ve heard I’m not the easiest on the ears.” She said of her voice.
“That’s not it at all.” Thrax took a drink. It wasn’t really, she was lovely, her waist was enough to make any Turian male look, and her crest was clean, with few cracks. “Look Klis… I’m just not ready for anything like that.” He was being completely honest. “Just not now.”
“Doesn’t have to be serious.” She offered. “Just let go of some stress.”
“Doesn’t matter, I am not interested in any sort of relationship. I just want to have my drink and then head home.” He said to her honestly. “Please.” He added as a polite afterthought.
She nodded. “Kay doll, I get you don’t want to be hurt. Looks like you already are, fresh wounds.” She nodded. “Take your time.” Her voice was kind and calm, and he felt she understood, or had some sort of idea what he was feeling. He hoped she just took it as heartbreak; she turned to another patron leaving the former general alone with his thoughts and his purple drink.
“Looks tasty.” A man said as he sat down beside him.
Thraxis turned his head and nodded. “If you’re Dextro tolerant.”
“I’m not.” The human said quietly lifting up his hand and swirling the golden liquid in his cup around. “Got bourbon.”
“Human delicacy?” Thrax asked. He hadn’t had many encounters with humans, but smelling this one, yes human was the other occupant of his bed’s former owner.
“Some might say. I just think it’s just mine.” The man chuckled. “Zaeed.” He extended his hand.
“Thrax.” He took the hand and shook before settling back. “What brings you to Omega?”
“What doesn’t?” The man laughed. “Goddamned getaway it is.” He nodded. “Waiting for an intel broker.”
“What business are you in?” Thrax said keeping to small talk. Hands fiddled with a bowl of Turian snacks and he grabbed two of the green ones out and ate them.
“Bounty hunting.” The human said downing his drinking and standing. “Sunshine’s here, it’s been a pleasure.” He nodded sliding his glass forward on the table.
Thrax nodded. “Same.” He said as he watched the human round the bar to a Drell of all things.
The mostly yellow Drell, with the orange spikes of color on his head, motioned in his direction, and it looked like the human dismissed him, just as well. He didn’t need that type of trouble, not tonight. Finishing his drink he slid it forward on the bar and waved to Kliski “I need you day after tomorrow at 5.” She smiled at him.
“Yes, ma’am.” Thrax nodded and turned off his stool headed for the door.
The next day Thraxis didn’t have work, he had down time, and he liked the idea of that. He could only clean so much of the tiny apartment, and then again only have so much to keep busy. He considered going to Scrawl, they were going to drink to Baela, but he didn’t want to drink, not with them.
Grabbing his coat he checked his Omni-Tool for an address one more time. He’d found an address for a shop called ‘Handlings’ that was said to be a curiosity shop. He needed more books, and Baela had suggested it before his untimely death.
Thraxis kept his head in his hood, hands shoved in his pockets as he walked along the main causeway toward the shopping district. He kept his eyes open, but continued to walk. It would be a long day, the district he was headed to was on the other side of the station.
Handlings was a human establishment that was two stories of nothing but knick-knacks. Thraxis hadn’t found much of anything until he’d made it to the second floor.
On the second floor he found a bookshelf and knelt moving through the titles, and clearing away dust with his claws. “Spirits.” He murmured and nearly chuckled pulling a book free and rubbing the dust away. “Beautiful thing.”
“Find something you like?” The elderly man asked coming up the stairs.
“Yes I… um would like this book please.” Thraxis stood. “How much?”
“That old Turian prayer book?” He chuckled. “5 credits.” He smiled gently. “Wife picked it up a long time ago on Earth. She couldn’t read it she just liked looking at the pictures and felt it deserved more than just laying around in some storage unit.” He shrugged. “Soon she forgot all about it, and it ended up here seeking another home, that was five years ago.”
“Only 5 credits?” The human nodded. “Done.” Thraxis turned back to the shelf and pulled a few more books of interest. “I appreciate this.” He said softly.
“Reader, huh?” The old man said.
“Yes, I like the feel of the pages.” He admitted softly. “I um… if you come across more Turian texts I would be very interested.”
“Far from home, and barren.” The old man smiled. “I’ll see what I can find.” He nodded. “The wife may have a few things back home too. She’s fond of Turian culture, though she can’t understand most of it.”
Thraxis nodded. “I would appreciate it. I can leave you with my contact information.”
“Come on downstairs son, let’s get you squared away.” The man said. “I’ll put your information in my database.”
Thraxis stood slowly with his books and nodded moving to the stairs. “I appreciate it.”
Downstairs he finalized his transaction, and watched as the man wrapped the books in a black fabric bag. “If we find anything else I’ll let you know Mr. Garlin.” He said softly. “I appreciate your business, it’s not often we have someone so kind come through, usually it’s gangs roughing up the place for protection.”
Thraxis nodded taking the bag looking inside pleased as his mandible fluttered. “What was it before?” The old man asked calmly looking at his Ident card.
Thraxis looked up. “What was what?” He shook his head confused.
“Your name?” The old man said gently handing the card back.
“Um… I can’t say.” He nodded with a soft smile taking the card and shuffling it into its normal place in his pocket. “Sorry.”
“What …color then?” The man asked as he motioned to his own face.
“Green went up my nose to my crest. Was also above my eyes and fanned down toward my mandible.” Thraxis actually sounded amused. “I uh-“ He laughed. “Hated it for a long time.” He lowered the bag down to his side. “Don’t have to worry much about it now.” He let his head roll. “Um is there a Dextro friendly restaurant around?”
“Um there’s The Kitchen, it’s a little bakery two rows down.” He motioned behind himself. “Dextro and Levo.” He nodded. “I go for lunch sometimes.”
“Thank you-“ He shook his head amused once more. “I didn’t get your name.”
The older man nodded. “Travis Handling.” He extended his hand and the Turian shook it.
“Thank you Mr. Handling.” He nodded. “I appreciate it.”
The Kitchen was easy enough to find, bright lights and a brightly colored façade. It stood out on Omega, like a sore thumb, but from the sign in the window touting that they carried Aria’s favorite cookies, he grabbed the door handle and pulled it open stepping inside.
“Hello!” An Asari woman rounded the counter. “Have you ever visited before?” She made a beeline for him, and his mandible flared uncomfortably.
Thraxis shook his head. “I’m here on recommendation from Mr. Handling down the street.” He said as she took his arm walking with him to the counter.
“Oh Travis!” She smiled. “I love him, sweetest man, wife is a real treat too.” She leaned over the counter. “My name is Audra.” She smiled at him before looking behind the counter. “Vexis, we have a guest.” She put a hand up between her mouth and Thrax. “And he’s cute!” Thrax pulled back slightly but the asari had a grip.
“We do? He is?” A low little sort of voice asked as she stood up from behind the bar. She was the smallest Turian woman Traxis had probably ever seen that was an adult. She was also kind of shocked, she must not have expected him to be so close. “Hello Mr?” Her mandible fluttered with the inflections in her voice. Her accent was from the southern part of Palaven, and it rolled sweetly to his ears.
“Garlin.” He said softly clearing his throat. “Thrax Garlin.” He nodded as Audra kept looking him up and down, arm still hooked into his.
“Well Mr. Garlin we have lots of things to eat. Audra let him go.” Vex chuckled “You’ll scare the poor man to his grave.”
“Fine.” Audra released him and grabbed the coffee pot moving around the room to attend to the other patrons.
“Please forgive her.” The small Turian woman smiled. “She gets excited on days Aria comes.” She shrugged. “Not exactly sure why that is, she’s never told me.” Trax looked around now nervous. “Oh don’t worry, she’s already come and gone. You’re clear to eat without hesitation.” She nodded. “I can give you a menu, or I have lunch remaining. Would you like Trenlin Stew?” She smiled. “I have plenty from the lunch rush.”
Thraxis nodded looking down at her. “I would- It would be much appreciated.” He turned looking at the bakery counter. The glass-covered dish held blue and green square-shaped cookies. “Are those?”
“Snaps?” Audra chuckled coming back around to hold the coffee pot and lean on the counter. “Yeah Vex makes the best snaps.” Audra said gently.
“She doesn’t even know.” Vex chuckled pushing her companion away. “Can’t even eat them.” She waved a hand. “She likes to brag on my behalf I’m sorry.”
Thrax nodded “It’s fine.” He looked around gently making a decision. “I would like the stew lunch, and I’ll take a box of snaps to go please.” He said.
“Great have a seat I’ll bring it and your ticket right out.” Vexis smiled and turned back from the counter.
Thraxis turned and for the second time in twenty-four hours he was met with a yellow Drell with orange markings. The same one, the information broker, he’d seen at Scrawl with the human Zaeed. He sat with what looked like little cakes on a small plate, and coffee. “It’ll only be a minute!” Vex said drawing his attention back to her.
“Alright.” Thrax nodded and moved across dining room to sit down in a booth away from the Drell.
Audra took over coffee to the Drell filled his mug. They spoke briefly, but Thraxis’ eyes peeled away to the prayer book he pulled from his bag and set on the table.
His talons ran over the leather bound tome gently. Opening the front page he touched the name that was written in gold on the inside of the book: Bextris Xanrana. “Oh my.” Vex said setting the tray down. “Are you-“ She fumbled and then whispered. “Are you a prophet?” She whispered. “They don’t usually leave Palaven.”
Thrax blinked and looked up at her. “No.” He said laying the book back in the bag beside himself. “It’s just something I picked up over at Handlings. Had it on a shelf upstairs. I just wanted to read it.”
“I didn’t want to offend.” She passed a bowl off the tray and then a glass of tea beside. She laid out a ticket beside him and smiled. “When you’re ready to go, you can pay at the counter and pick up your snaps.”
“Thank you.” He said gently and looked across the room as she wandered off at the Drell, who smiled at him and lifted his coffee in Thrax’s direction.
Thrax shook his head and looked down at his stew and tried not to look at the man again. He gathered up one of the other Turian texts and put it on the table and started to flip pages as he ate looking at the paintings of locations on Palaven.
The next night at Scrawl was rough. Four bar fights, and Thrax actually pulled his pistol on one patron but didn’t fire. The batarian backed down, and his Turian friend read Thraxis’ sub-harmonics for what they were, threat.
Sub-harmonics were rarely used by Thrax, he restrained as much as he could, but if someone wasn’t getting the picture it could make his threats carry more weight. Due to his height he towered over humans and batarians alike. Most turians did, but Thrax never felt like he actually towered over anyone until he ended up in Omega’s port.
All in all it had not been a bad night. After turning in his side arm, he’d had a Turian tulip and then began to head for home. He wanted a shower, and to sleep. Pulling his hood over his fringe he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked.
“This intel is bad!” A voice yelled.
“The intel is what it is… it’s what you paid for buddy.” A steady second voice drew Thrax to the side of Scrawl, two men arguing in the shadows of the alley.
“No it’s not, Sunny.” The first man complained. “I asked for his whereabouts.”
“I gave you all the intel that was available to me, his current location is unknown.” Protested the second voice, supposedly this ‘Sunny’. “There is no actual information on his location, he’s as easy to find as the shadow broker himself or the Illusive Man, your guess, my friend, is as good as mine.”
“That’s not good enough.” There was a struggle and as Thrax rounded the corner to break up the fight a shot rang out.
For the second time in his life the world spun black.