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The Translation in Blood	By : Mayamahal Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 19003 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bioware or ANYTHING in the Mass Effect universe, including the characters therein. I make no money on this story.

Chapter List
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It was the fastest Hannah could ever remember getting her clothes on, and that included curfew calls in college.
She was dressed before he was, and, being the more limber of the two of them, was the first to climb up the steep stone wall nearest them. At his suggestion, she loaded her omni-tool and let the 2D panel peek over the ledge instead of her head, scanning for a brief visual while processing what the life-scans had shown them.
Two platoons, one Turian, one Human, the former chasing the other and the other quickly honing in on Hannah and Sparatus' position. Sparatus had been jamming their signal, however, so she knew they still couldn't spot them.
It was just damned awful coincidence.
They were still a ways off, but coming up fast. They needed to figure out what to do.
She slid back down, slipping over shale harmlessly as he caught her in his arms at the bottom. Protectively he gripped her, dragging her back under the overhang and examined her scans. Anxiety buried, she tried not to think about what this all meant as they considered their options.
Neither was comfortable with taking out one platoon or the other. It just wasn't going to happen. One of them could slide back down into the caves, or they both could, to wait out the fight and figure out who survived. That still reeked of dishonor, and again, they weren't comfortable with letting the Turians and Humans kill each other.
"We can each slip into their ranks?" Hannah offered. "It'd be the best way, they wouldn't think we were together... I know yours would consider you well-timed back up, probably be the same for me."
Sparatus nodded. "A distraction, then," he offered. "Smoke and fire, enough to blind and temporarily incapacitate." He pulled up his own tool and began to tap in programs. "They get close enough, I can set off several well-placed explosions. No injuries with any luck, and absolutely no casualties." He paused, looking at her, the facade of professional soldier cracking for a moment. "I'm ... I'm not going to let them keep persuing. I'm going to haul them back and sound a recall, get us all back to the base or wherever they came from. Try to get back to the fleet and untangle this mess-"
She gripped his hand, eyes blazing. "It's too late for that," she told him grimly. "We ignored all of this, but right now it's just a big stupid mess. I don't ... I can't ... " She ran her other hand over her face, trying to find the words through all the sap getting in the way. "I don't think I can take another shot at your people and not worry it isn't someone you know." She turned her head to look at him; it took everything she had to look him in the eye. "Or you."
He went still, simply returning her regard. He pulled his hand from her grip in an aggressiveness that had Hannah's heart clench in fear, but then he cupped her face and dragged her over, kissing her hungrily. "Whatever happens, I'll find you again," he whispered harshly, his voice soft gravel and leather.
She nodded and hated the tears that pulled at her eyes, brushing them away with her arm. "You better." She kissed him harder, pleased to hear his rumble of gentle regret. "And I understand if you use what... what you've learned from me to defend yourself. And I'm going to do my best to do the same, but not use it for murder if I can." She bit her lip. "Can you try too?"
He paused for only a moment. At his growling ascent, she sighed. "Thank you, Sparatus."
Scans showed the fight was getting closer. Sparatus clamped a cuff around one of her wrists and showed her how he'd disabled them; a well placed scrape against rock and a little bit of water could get the thing to short. Better evidence to support their story. Sparatus set up the land mines from the bottom of the ravine, as Hannah watched the little blips on her scanner get closer; right on time.
He helped her up first, gear over his back, and climbed up alongside her. Crouched on a ridge just below the edge, they saw their targets get nearer. It was tense, pressed shoulder to shoulder when only moments ago, they were naked and close and drowning in bliss and sunlight-
Hannah shook her head to clear it, but apparently he had the same trouble. He snagged the long tail of her hair and dragged her back to him, kissing her hungrily and groaning into her mouth; desperate, so desperate, like he was trying to give her a piece of himself for her to remember.
Like she could forget.
But it gave her an idea. She pulled back a little and snapped off one of her dog-tags, a crease in the metal that was there for just such a quick removal. She pressed it into his hand. "You'll find me easier this way."
He tucked it into his armor without looking, green eyes somber in a mask of white lines on dark flesh. How had he become so beautiful to her so quickly?
She tore her eyes from him and peeked over the edge, watching the fight come closer and closer to where they needed them to be. Right there. Perfect.
She hunched her shoulders, preparing to leap over as soon as Sparatus detonated the charges, but his hand gripped her arm. She looked over at him, startled.
He kissed her again. "There's a way you can stop this," he whispered against her mouth.
She went still, blinking at him.
He went on, his voice low and breathless. "Turian physiology is different from most of the other races; only the Quarians come close to sharing our genetic structure." He tapped up his interface quickly, then uploaded the information he was queueiing up to hers. "The point is this: we have to have our food shipped in, we can't survive on local material for sustenance or survival. It's why I've been nibbling on rations all these weeks." He gripped her close, his voice a low whisper. "Use that. I've given you markers to identify all of the ships that bring in our supplies. You can stop this before it gets any worse."
Hannah was gaping at him. He was... "I don't want to ki-"
He shook his head. "Weak points in the armor of each ship will disable them. They'll be wingless but alive." He squeezed her. "I know you can't control what your superiors do; I can't either, but the faster we get this thing over with, the sooner we can find each other again. And while ... being together may not happen right away, at least... at least we won't have our people dying all around us...."
On cue, one of the Turian blips ceased to be. Another human followed suit. Dammit.
He looked over the edge to make sure it was clear, then keyed in the code into his interface. There were loud, hollow explosions full of smoke and shouts. He boosted her over.
She turned around right before she got to her feet and kissed him again. "I'll find you," she growled. The sight of his eyes dilating at her tone filled her with joy. And hope. She rolled to her belly, got to her feet, and took off into the confusion to find her people.
***
It was hard to explain how she knew what she was taking about without adding in the twisted story of her escape and interrogation of her captor. She didn't care that they seemed astonished that her attempts at getting information out of the Turian captive she'd aquired were more successful than their most eager, hateful interrogators. She didn't answer when they asked what became of him; her silence proved to be enough.

And so it was, back at Shanxi under a flag of surrender, that a message was passed out to all guerrilla units about the genetic weakness of the occupying enemy.

Crates of food, not Turians, were blown up as often as they could find them. No deaths meant no retaliation, but as accidental and as vague as the human fighters attempted to keep the destruction, it soon became clear that the Turian occupation was in trouble.
And then, joy beyond shock, Admiral Drescher showed up with the entire Second fleet at her disposal.
Hannah made sure that the first thing out of General Williams' lips was the intel on Turian food supplies, and she prayed for all she was worth that the Admiral was more interested in finishing this thing than revenge.
There were a few casualties, accidental collisions that had her wound up in knots of guilt, but a steady assault on the supply ships had the intended affect.
There was a ceasefire, and a ship the size of a space station suddenly came into existence to hover between the Shanxi colony and the Turian fleet.
The Turians all left the planet's surface, and the world went quiet for several moments.

Hannah remembered to breathe.
***
Peace was negotiated quickly, humanity commended for their tenacity against the greatest fleet in the known galaxy. That surprised Hannah more than anything; she'd thought the humans so far behind the rest. Even if that were so, in probably only made them appear that much more courageous.

She smiled at the image of Sparatus elbowing her silently; I told you so. Now don't get cocky, pyjak.
She was standing on the deck of the great ship, unsurprised by the new species milling about. She was standing behind a rather dejected looking General Williams, but she didn't blame him, and couldn't tell him enough that he'd made the right choice; the bitterness of lost life ran deep among her people, especially when it was all seated on a misunderstanding that they blamed on the Turians.
She stifled a sigh and stood at attention, watching as more and more aliens crowded the ceremonial deck within the center of this enormous ship. The stood in the center of an outstretched platform, flanked by a garden that surrounded them below as well as on either side. Soft light filtered in, beams focused on a higher deck in front of them.
Translation programs were set to broadcast so the humans could understand, and it was announced that the council would enter and all were requested to be respectful. The species identified as Asari came through first, a blue woman of elegant lines and radiant poise; her expression was grave but open. The second was a creature Hannah hadn't seen yet, with large eyes and a wide mouth. And the third-
Her hands clenched tight behind her back, nails biting into her palms as she saw Sparatus for the first time in weeks.
He looked to be in one piece, though tired. His posture echoed hers, something she'd have thought on purpose if it hadn't been for the surprise that registered on his face a few seconds later, when his gaze swept across her platform and spotted her. Green eyes widened briefly. Hannah gave him a tiny smile, then lifted her chin.
With that, the ceremony began.
Humanity was welcomed into the arms of the universe, and apologized and forgiven for the great mishaps that had started this horrible, potent yet small war. Hannah was proud her people did not grumble, proud and straight and dignified. She was surprised when the Turians were ordered to make repartations to the newest member of Council space, her eyes flicking to Sparatus across the distance, wondering if this was his doing.
He was a councilor... why hadn't he said anything? She tried not to feel betrayed; there had to be some reason why he couldn't.
As further gestures of welcome and peace, the Council offered humanity a tour of the ship, and the ability to stay on it in the days to come; they would be happy to guide them to the fabled Citadel, the hub and seat of this great galactic government.
Responses from the humans were brief and courteous, accepting but laced with a touch of wary hesitance. No one said anything; who could blame them?
The delegations scattered, with translation programs broadcast, it was relatively easy for the humans to talk to the other species. It was tense in many places, but she saw in others the glow of discovery and the joy of peace. There was no violence here, and she was thankful.
She wandered to the outskirts of the crowd, hating the stiffness of her dress blues and wishing she could just go home, but she'd be lying to herself if she wasn't looking for someone too. There was a viewport that looked out to Shanxi hovering below them, and she made her way to that; it was a secluded are, flanked by trees and benches and a large, shaded screen.
She leaned against the railing and pored over the situation. Peace found, war resolved, and it still felt confused and chaotic. Or maybe that was just in her-
"I didn't think you were far up enough in rank to get here," came the familiar, dual-toned resonance she'd come to enjoy. Her lips quirked and she turned her head a little, catching alabaster lines on black skin.
"Special accomodation for the woman that tortured a Turian into telling her all about his eating habits," she drawled softly, before turning back to the view. "You're lucky General Williams was more interested in survival than retalliation. He's the first in the history of our people to surrender to another species, you know." He came up beside her, leaning against the rail too. She resisted the urge to look up at him. "He won't be treated well after this."
He quirked at that. "He had no other choice, and he'll still be punished? He saved many lives-"
Hannah shook her head. "He won't be punished, not formally. But this act of surrender will follow him for the rest of his life. Unfair. Unjust. But it will."
Now she did dare to peek up at him, only to find green eyes meeting her own. He'd never stopped looking at her. He was frowning.
"Humanity is so proud?" he asked softly, concerned. "Will they be so resistant, then, to everything that is coming?" He took a single step closer to her. Hannah was suddenly grateful for the screen and the trees; she was shaking from head to toe.
"I don't know, Sparatus," she whispered to him. "There is so much anger among my kind, rage over a war that never needed to happen. We didn't know, you didn't know that we didn't know..." She sighed, looking away but covering his hand on the rail where it had settled near hers. She felt him squeeze her fingers. "And... I didn't know I was getting intel from one of the highest ranking Turians in Citadel space-"
He coughed. She looked up at him. "What?" she asked.
"I wasn't, I'm not. Well. I see why you'd think that but-" He reined in the babble with a deep breath, considering his words. "I have no authority, but I have the ear of every Turian there is, and commend the respect of even our leaders. My words carry great weight and there are few who wouldn't do as I advise." He was reciting something; had he been practicing this explaination? "But this wasn't so when I met you, I swear it. I came back to a dead councilor who had no heir, and the line of succession went to me." He shook his head, looking at her again. "I'm colony born, not from Palaven; this was the last thing I expected."
Hannah didn't understand all of what he was explaining, but she knew enough to accept that he'd been thrust into a position he hadn't been prepared for. She understood that all too well. There was something else in his words, though, an overtone of hesitance and shame that made her uncomfortable.
"This means something more, doesn't it?" she murmured. "Something about us."
The dip of his head made her belly feel hollow.
"As the Turian councilor, I've given up my family name. I am only known as 'Sparatus' or 'Councilor', the former exposed to the world and offered freely to my people to use as they will. My family name is no longer needed; I am the Turian people, their voice, and therefore all I am. " His voice sounded tired, his shoulders were even sagging. "I am bound to my position and its responsibilities. And the image I present."
That made her feel cold.
"The image...?" she ventured, her voice not much more than a whisper. There was a celebration going on somewhere behind her, she was sure of it. But right now, all she could think of was how she wasn't going to get what she knew she wanted.
"Cross-species relationships for a councilor tend to be frowned upon at best; doesn't encourage the notion that my interest is for my species and undivided in its loyalty. If I were to... I ... there'd always be the question of my choices and decisions, unbiased advice scrutinized for the slightest bit of waver..." He was trying to be gentle, but really, he was just as dissappointed as she was.
"Maybe it'll be different, maybe I'll retire and it won't be so-"
She dug her fingers into his arm, forcing him to look at her. "Take me somewhere," she pleaded with him. He blinked down at her. "Today, just today. Give us one more moment to keep me warm while I wait for you to come back to me-"
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, but then so were his arms around her, and it was all too late.
***
The party was going hard enough to keep anyone from noticing the pair slip away, innocent companions until they got to his quarters. Clothes were removed with little regard and Hannah was pressed into the mattress of a large bed in a dimly lit, well-furnished room. Sparatus took her with all the desparate affection she knew he felt, and she came with a stiffled cry that ended in tears.
He kissed them away and kissed her again, murmured her name over and over and promised her every tomorrow he would have.
Morning came with them wrapped up in each other, Hannah's hair tangled and her skin raw in several places. She was running her hands over the lines on his face, brushing fingertips over every path they took. He was watching her.
"We're a ridiculous pair, you and me," he rumbled to her. "Something straight out of some tragic, romantic epic." He sighed and leaned into her touch, letting her caress across the white stripe that split the fringe at his crown.
She chuckled softly. "Romantic? Sparatus, are you saying-"
He looked up at her. She stopped her teasing.
She kissed him instead.
- 12
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- 14
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The Translation in Blood