In the Wake of the War 2/?
anonymous
July 23 2014, 10:50:36 UTC
She found herself wrangling extra food for him when most dextro-amino food proved to be tightly rationed. Many of the turians who fought in the final battle against the Reapers were looking at long stays on Earth due to the destruction of the mass relays; of the ships that were functional, most of them were committed to returning important members of the Hierarchy to Palaven first, then those turians with family there second. Amicus, she discovered, fit neither of those categories.
“No family?” she asked him, sitting by his bed as he carefully ate some dextro slop that looked vaguely like meaty soup.
“None. I’m a ward of the state. I grew up outside of Hierarchy space, which is why I don’t have...” He gestured briefly to his face and she took a moment to realise what he meant. No colony markings. “My parents were killed in a batarian raid when I was thirteen. They were traders.” His voice was calm.
Nicola nodded. She had learned right away that Amicus was not the kind of man ... turian ... to accept condolences, so she briefly rested her hand against his arm. His mandibles flickered. Was that like a smile? She still had trouble reading his expressions.
“I was rescued by a military vessel shortly after the raid, and since it was only a few years til I was due to start my state service anyway, I was accepted as a ward of the state.” He lowered the bowl he was drinking from. “I’ve been in the military since then ... never settled down.” He took a sip of his soup and made a disgusted sound that made Nicola laugh.
“That bad, huh?” The soup was deliberately cooler than it should be, in order to not aggravate his sensitive throat.
“Pretty terrible, yeah.”
“I’ll do better next time.”
He looked at her quickly. “You made this for me?”
“Well, I poured it from the bottle and heated it up a bit, yes,” she said with a grin.
“It’s delicious,” he lied smoothly, and Nic had to smother her laughter so as not to disturb the patients in the beds around them.
*****
She wasn’t sure how they got to talking about Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian, but considering they were a turian and a human it probably wasn’t that unusual.
Shepard and Vakarian were galactic heroes, and though neither of them had been seen since the end of the war they were the topic of discussions everywhere. Where were they? Were they alive? Despite the overwhelming majority opinion that they were both dead, a barely-hidden undercurrent of hope threaded through the mire of doubt.
“No bodies means they could still be alive, right?” Nicola said to him, hooking dark hair behind her ears before drawing Amicus’ arm around her shoulders and helping him stand on his new prosthetic. It was a crude thing, reminding her more of a pirate peg-leg than anything. A cybernetic replacement limb would be available eventually, when resources weren’t so depleted.
“It could mean that,” he said. He seemed reluctant to give her too much hope. She scowled and he chuckled.
“Well I’d like to think they’re sitting on a beach somewhere, getting a tan and drinking mojitos.”
“That’s a nice thought. What’s a mojito?”
“Alcoholic beverage. I’ll make it for you some day.”
“Trying to get me drunk, Nic?” he asked lightly, and she felt her cheeks tingle.
“Maybe later.” She shifted so his weight was more solidly placed over her shoulders and said, “How’s that?”
He leant on his prosthetic slightly. “No pain. It’ll take some getting used to, though.”
“Ready for a short trip down the hall and back, preferably without having a coughing attack or throwing up on me?”
“Well let’s not get too carried away,” he said.
She dug her elbow into his ribcage and he gave a breathless laugh. A wave of warmth coursed down her body at the sound. Startled, and a little nervous, she focussed instead on balancing his weight and took pleasure in the increasing surety of his steps.
“No family?” she asked him, sitting by his bed as he carefully ate some dextro slop that looked vaguely like meaty soup.
“None. I’m a ward of the state. I grew up outside of Hierarchy space, which is why I don’t have...” He gestured briefly to his face and she took a moment to realise what he meant. No colony markings. “My parents were killed in a batarian raid when I was thirteen. They were traders.” His voice was calm.
Nicola nodded. She had learned right away that Amicus was not the kind of man ... turian ... to accept condolences, so she briefly rested her hand against his arm. His mandibles flickered. Was that like a smile? She still had trouble reading his expressions.
“I was rescued by a military vessel shortly after the raid, and since it was only a few years til I was due to start my state service anyway, I was accepted as a ward of the state.” He lowered the bowl he was drinking from. “I’ve been in the military since then ... never settled down.” He took a sip of his soup and made a disgusted sound that made Nicola laugh.
“That bad, huh?” The soup was deliberately cooler than it should be, in order to not aggravate his sensitive throat.
“Pretty terrible, yeah.”
“I’ll do better next time.”
He looked at her quickly. “You made this for me?”
“Well, I poured it from the bottle and heated it up a bit, yes,” she said with a grin.
“It’s delicious,” he lied smoothly, and Nic had to smother her laughter so as not to disturb the patients in the beds around them.
*****
She wasn’t sure how they got to talking about Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian, but considering they were a turian and a human it probably wasn’t that unusual.
Shepard and Vakarian were galactic heroes, and though neither of them had been seen since the end of the war they were the topic of discussions everywhere. Where were they? Were they alive? Despite the overwhelming majority opinion that they were both dead, a barely-hidden undercurrent of hope threaded through the mire of doubt.
“No bodies means they could still be alive, right?” Nicola said to him, hooking dark hair behind her ears before drawing Amicus’ arm around her shoulders and helping him stand on his new prosthetic. It was a crude thing, reminding her more of a pirate peg-leg than anything. A cybernetic replacement limb would be available eventually, when resources weren’t so depleted.
“It could mean that,” he said. He seemed reluctant to give her too much hope. She scowled and he chuckled.
“Well I’d like to think they’re sitting on a beach somewhere, getting a tan and drinking mojitos.”
“That’s a nice thought. What’s a mojito?”
“Alcoholic beverage. I’ll make it for you some day.”
“Trying to get me drunk, Nic?” he asked lightly, and she felt her cheeks tingle.
“Maybe later.” She shifted so his weight was more solidly placed over her shoulders and said, “How’s that?”
He leant on his prosthetic slightly. “No pain. It’ll take some getting used to, though.”
“Ready for a short trip down the hall and back, preferably without having a coughing attack or throwing up on me?”
“Well let’s not get too carried away,” he said.
She dug her elbow into his ribcage and he gave a breathless laugh. A wave of warmth coursed down her body at the sound. Startled, and a little nervous, she focussed instead on balancing his weight and took pleasure in the increasing surety of his steps.
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I'm hoping for a cameo with femshep and Garrus on that beach. :)
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