Rite of Honor

The Varren led them to the massacre of the rival clan, but there were no bodies of their own Urdnot scouts.


“They were victorious,” The silver Krogan grunted, kicking at a dead body. But he was still unsettled, “They should have returned.”


Grunt shot a puzzled look at Garrus, “Did they go after more sport?”


The Turian looked around, “This does not bode well.”


When Urz whined and took off once more, they followed without question, trying their damndest not to lose track of the Varren in the violent storm.

-o-o-o-

Shepard narrowed her eyes, keeping a hand up and above her visor in an attempt to keep the dust at bay. The howling of the wind was only interrupted by the ‘pings’ and ‘clanks’ of small trajectories of stone bouncing off of her shields and armor. Instead of dust and rocks, she was sorely wishing for some good, old-fashioned rain and water right about now.


She had been leading the Thresher Maw on a good chase for a while now. How long, she wasn’t sure. She just knew that her lungs were killing her and that her legs would have fallen off long ago if it wasn’t for her armor.


“Where are you… you bastard.” She muttered to herself, scanning the landscape around her. She had managed to find good, stable rock for her to stand on, not wanting to give the beast an easy meal ticket. Not the way those twelve had died earlier. She shuddered to think of it, but immediately went back to surveying her surroundings.


The ground rumbled, and it was then that she realized a fatal flaw in her plan. As the Thresher Maw erupted from the softer ground a few yards away, it flew right into the large pillar of stone next to the Commander.


“Motherfuc-“ The curse had barely gotten out before the rocks fell on top of her.

-o-o-o-

When they realized Urz had found someone, they quickened their step, hoping…


But no, it was just another Krogan.


The roar of a shotgun sounded, spraying the ground near Grunt’s feet. The Varren sprung forward and wrenched the shotgun out of the attacker’s grasp. The beast paused for a moment to lick the weapon fondly before turning its head, about to attack the Krogan.


But Grunt reached over just in time, grabbing the Varren by the back and tossing it to the side. It was a clear order of ‘No’, and Urz merely landed on his feet, snorting in consent. If Urz hadn’t known this large Krogan was part of Shepard’s pack, he would have taken being tossed like a rag doll through the air the wrong way. Instead, he just stalked a few feet away from the other strange Krogan, snarling threateningly. He could smell the other’s fear, and his hackles shook with slight pleasure.


Recognizing the whimpering runt for who he was, Grunt bounded over, gripping the collar of the smaller one’s armor as he lifted him into the air, “Where is she?”


His boots dangling a foot from the ground, his broken leg playing an orchestra on his nerves, the Krogan envoy screamed murder.


Garrus thought subtler methods could be used, but they were in a hurry. And the Krogan *had* shot at them. Apparently, Grunt had the same idea.


“Don’t make me ask again…” The silver-plated Krogan growled dangerously.


The Krogan whimpered, his frenzied gaze turning to the Turian. But he found no help there.


“You *really* don’t want him to do that…” The Turian warned, inspecting his rifle in his hand.


“She-she took off that way!” Nagoroth exclaimed, pointing, “She said she would draw it off!”


“And her shotgun, did you take that?” Grunt demanded, pointing at the weapon the Varren was sniffing. Garrus strode over and hooked it into his back harness, much to Urz’s protest.


“N-no.” The Krogan stuttered, “She told me to protect myself. To survive.”


Having gotten what they could, Grunt dropped the envoy, heading off in the direction he had pointed. Nagoroth was smart enough to keep his pained cry silent this time, reading murder from the bigger Krogan’s eyes. Perhaps the silver-plated Krogan was tank bred, but other than that, he seemed pure Krogan through and through. That meant he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Nagoroth for any weakness he would continue to show. Not to mention the envoy had shot at them. Accidentally. Yeah… probably a good idea to keep his mouth shut.


Urz had been confused with all the mixing trails and scents in the battle ground, his taloned feet scrabbling across the hard surface, nose to the wind. He caught movement as Grunt passed him. And sure enough, as the Varren began to follow the Krogan, he picked up her trail once more before shooting off.


Garrus watched the two walk off, sparing a glance at the Krogan straggler, “I guess… she would’ve wanted me to give you this.”


Tossing a spare medi-gel at the runt, the Turian followed.

-o-o-o-

Shepard, groaning, came to.


Darkness.


She tried moving, but was disheartened to find only one arm unpinned. She took this opportunity to smack the side of her helmet, jarring the controls as her head lamp finally flickered on.


Rocks. She turned her head. Rocks. She glanced behind her. And more rocks. Great.


The only good thing she could glean from this whole experience was that she wasn’t dead.


Suddenly, the rubble shifted around her, light starting to seep through cracks a few feet ahead. The roar of the Thresher Maw filled the following silence, before the rocks began moving once more. Little by little, light filled the dark void as a grim thought weighed down in the trapped Commander’s mind.


Scratch that. She wasn’t dead… yet.

-o-o-o-

The Varren was starting to drift, almost as though it were losing her scent. Grunt resisted the urge to kick Urz to make him go faster.


The purple-striped beast started to growl, tensing. At the same moment, Garrus pointed from beside him and said, “Look there.” Grunt was too focused on the Varren, but apparently the Turian wasn’t.


Through the whipping sand storm, they were able to catch glimpses of a large form. The column of flesh, the feelers, the ground-shaking cry. It was a Thresher Maw.


The reality of it came crashing down on the Krogan and the Turian, the effect like ice sliding down their backs. They couldn’t see the Commander anywhere.


“Where is she…?” Garrus asked.


Had they come too late?


A sudden crackle sounded within their helmets. Suddenly they heard the most beautiful sound in the world.


‘Unless I’m hallucinating, I see you guys on my radar.’ Her voice came in loud and clear. All they had heard until then was static. Perhaps the storm only allowed their communications to work in short distances.


‘…Shepard?’ Garrus inquired, trading a disbelieving look with the Krogan beside him.


‘No, it’s Casper. Of course this is Shepard.’ The Commander said dryly, bringing a smirk to the Turian’s mouth, ‘Now are you guys just gonna stand around all day, or are you gonna join the party?’


‘Where?’ Grunt demanded.


‘Grunt?’ Her voice sounded surprised, but she quickly got over it as she replied, ‘I dunno. Try finding the Thresher Maw’s ass of a face, that’s my position. Unfortunately.’


“But where…?” Garrus frowned, scanning the horizon. Then he spotted the pile of rocks the beast was currently hunched over, using its appendages as well as its feelers to dig, “No…”


In the little cave-in, Shepard blinked as a stream of light suddenly poured in. One of the rocks had been lifted. Through the small crack, she had an extremely detailed view of the Thresher Maw’s ugly mug. She definitely preferred the darkness.


On the ridge, just as they heard the Thresher Maw’s victorious cry, Shepard’s voice patched through, tinted with urgency, ‘Uh, guys… you might wanna get your asses over here. NOW.’


With a roar, the silver-plated Krogan charged down the hill.


“Grunt, wait!” Garrus called out, but he was already far ahead. They needed a plan, they couldn’t just charge recklessly…


Then again… this was Grunt they were talking about.


Hearing the roar, the Thresher Maw paused to inspect the source of the noise, its mandibles flexing in irritation. Immediately it fired a large green clot of acid. It overshot past the charging Krogan, getting bigger and bigger in Garrus’s scope.


Muttering to himself, the Turian scanned the ridges and found a good sniping spot, sprinting away just as the acid sprayed the ground where he had stood moments before.


-o-o-o-

Shepard could barely see anything past the narrowed focus of her prison, much less what was happening. She had heard a loud battle cry somewhere off to the right. She could just picture the tough guy charging the Thresher Maw head on, and the image brought a smirk to her lips.


The Thresher Maw had just turned from the hole to defend itself when the Commander immediately started wriggling around in the confined space, attempting to free herself. Her armor squeaked and groaned under the pressure, the rocks grating against the plating with each movement. The black-haired woman grimaced, imagining all the dents and damage to the paint job she would have to fix later.


The sounds of biotics and ammo rounds made her struggle faster. Couldn’t let them have all the fun, after all.


She had managed to move a single stone with her free hand before a shadow blocked her view.


Before she could start to panic upright, she recognized the familiar silver crest ridges and those blue eyes. With a small grin, she said, “Welcome to the party. By the way, what took you guys so long?”


“You should not have gone alone.” His voice rumbled, a spark of anger in his eyes.


Unprepared for the sudden hostility, Shepard frowned, “Someone got up at the wrong side of the bed. What’d you do, drink a barrel full of rankol and throw yourself off a cliff?”


“This is no time for jokes, Shepard.” Grunt tore away her sarcasm with his heated tone.


Shepard blinked. Surprised once more. What the hell was his problem? She realized perhaps she should have informed them before she left. Then again…


“Hey, I’m not the only one who just up and left.” She stated, confused as her voice came out more angry than she had intended.


Grunt jerked as though he had been slapped, his plated face showing a hint of surprise. Almost as though he hadn’t realized she would notice.


Through the comm., Garrus’s voice patched through before either of them could get another word in, ‘This isn’t exactly a place for conversation…’


‘Got it.’ The Krogan grunted, stepping towards Shepard.


Shepard’s eyes widened the same moment Garrus exclaimed urgently, ‘Grunt! Six’o’clock! It’s moving tow-‘


Then suddenly the Krogan was knocked off his feet, the Thresher Maw having realized the Krogan’s attempt. The beast decided to get rid of the pesky little grounder with a swing of its powerful head.


“Grunt!” Shepard called out before she realized it, wondering if he was okay.


But then she had bigger problems to worry about.


The Thresher Maw swung its head towards her, decidedly ignoring the sniper rounds that would flicker against its shields in a rhythmic cadence. Apparently it had some of its shields up and intact. At least enough not to worry about the fact it was currently being shot at.


Shepard didn’t have time to think about Grunt as those beady, blood thirsty eyes turned to her direction, the whole disgusting patch of them blinking at once.


“Shit…” She trailed off, immediately renewing her struggles with vigor.


It lunged.


She didn’t have time to think. Just react.


Raising her free hand, she felt the fiery surge of an incinerating shot blasting from her fingertips. A surge of triumph rolled through her as it exploded in the Thresher Maw’s face, staggering it. But the feeling was short lived, and her face fell as it jerked back. She had only bought herself moments.


Struggling more intensely against the rubble, Shepard clenched her jaw as she felt a few muscles in her pinned arm snapped under the pressure.


The beast’s shadow blocked out the sun and Shepard, with wide eyes, looked up at the gaping mouth that filled her view.


She had just run out of time.


Instead of fear, adrenaline surged forth. Even in the face of death, her voice resonated strongly as she exclaimed, “You wanna eat me? Then come on! I’ll fuckin’ tear up your insides!”


Uncertainty and hesitation slowed the beast’s movements, and its multiple eyes regarded her warily. Its food never usually showed the kind of backbone and vigor that she did. If they screamed at all, it would be in pure fear or agony.


For a moment, she believed it might just change its mind. But then those beady black eyes blinked, and it shook its head, as if to shake off its sudden trance.


The stench of rot and heat rushed over the Commander as the Thresher Maw exhaled, smug almost, as it lunged at her for the final time.


Shepard’s shield of strength slipped for a moment and her face showed fear, a tint of bitterness resonating within. She could do nothing to stop the beast. After all the missions. After being brought to life by a corporation she has yet to trust, it would all end here. Who would stop the Collectors, if not her? Even if Cerberus had the resources, they would not have to time to revive her once more.


The maw of the beast rushed at her, the darkness enveloping her as the edges of its mouth blocked off the horizon and her surroundings. Its teeth were mere feet from her pinned form.


Shepard tensed.


A furious battle cry sounded. The darkness receded.


The ebony haired woman opened eyes she hadn’t realized were closed. Her blue eyes were surprised to find a fierce cerulean gaze locked onto hers.


“…Grunt?” Shepard breathed out in disbelief.


His whole frame shuddered with exertion as he held back the jaws of the beast. He was slightly hunched over, a large part of his back and his bulging arms taking the brunt of the Thresher Maw’s weight. His foot slipped forward before he straightened out, the strain and effort evident in his slow and controlled movements.


“Shepard.” He merely grunted in greeting, as though it was another one of her visits in the cargo hold.


It made a smile crack in her face as she muttered, “Suicidal bastard.”


She was surprised, and comforted, to hear a small rumble of laughter roll through his chest.


The roar of frustration the Thresher Maw gave was deafening, air and spittle rushing at them like a whip. Its efforts doubled.


The Krogan gave a loud grunt as he slid down to one knee, the beast’s feelers thrashing wildly as some dug at the ground, gaining even more leverage.


Shepard and Grunt exchanged glances. A large part of the Commander was angry that the Krogan would risk his life like this. An even larger part of Grunt was furious that the Commander had gotten herself into this situation in the first place. But all their anger drained away as Grunt was crushed forward more and more, slowly being pushed towards Shepard and the ground. His armor gave a metallic shriek as it gave way to a few of the Thresher Maw’s teeth, his face flinching in pain as their serrated edges dug into his plates.


“Grunt!” Shepard cried out as trickles of blood poured from his wounds.

-o-o-o-

Garrus was shooting in desperation, but his finger kept slipping. From his own blood and from the slow numbing of his arm, the Turian fought to regain the same rapid fire he was known for. The Thresher Maw had gotten him pretty good with one of its last acid attacks. The only reason he was still alive was because the beast had turned around when it realized what the Krogan was up to.


The Varren had tried to stop it, but the Thresher Maw had simply flung it against some rocks. Urz hadn’t moved since.


Garrus grimaced. His leg was partially mangled and his medi-gel had been flung somewhere in the dunes as he himself had been tossed in the air. He couldn’t even crawl to a closer position if he wanted.


He gritted his mandibles in frustration. He felt useless here! He couldn’t just let them die!


Sand kicked up beside him, but Garrus didn’t lose his focus from the target, his fingers still working the trigger and wearing down the Thresher Maw’s defenses. He barely glanced at Nagoroth as the Krogan slid up next to him, stating, “You’re hurt.”


“Forget about me,” The Turian snarled, “Take this and shoot at that damn thing!”


Nagoroth grabbed the sniper that was tossed at him, almost losing his grip from all the Turian blood on it. Thankfully, he didn’t question the order. He simply raised the weapon and started firing.


Garrus, in the meantime, looked around for his scattered arsenal. There!


The sleek black weapon soon found its way to his determined grasp. Whipping around to face the colossal beast once more, Garrus raised the Collector’s Particle Beam until he was glaring at the Thresher Maw through the scope.

-o-o-o-

“Crazy… suicidal…” Shepard murmered, Grunt was hunched over so much that his knee almost touched his chest, his whole body straining to fight off the beast.


Grunt didn’t have the energy to spend on talking. He merely threw an intense glare her way.


His face was close enough to touch. Shepard just chuckled at his silent response as she reached out to stroke the side of his face, “But… I wouldn’t have it any other way…”


Shock ran through his eyes before his gaze finally softened.


Now it was Shepard’s turn to be surprised. The only time she had seen his face calm was when he was in the tank. And even then, his eyes had been closed. She could never have imagined…


His eyes were the essence of two tranquil blue suns. Amazing.


She didn’t realize his thoughts ran along the same vein. He had seen the fear right before he could rush in and stop the beast from swallowing her whole. It was the only time she had let her defenses crack. She hadn’t even flinched when he had slammed her against the wall and choked her. Their first meeting. He resisted the urge to laugh at the memory. It was what had drawn him in. Her strength. Her determination.


Even now, he could see it burning through the sapphire purity of her eyes. Beautiful.


‘No one but the Thresher Maw is dying here today. Not on my watch.’ Garrus’s voice crackled through the radio, disturbing the calm acceptance that had run between the two.


Suddenly, the beast squealed in agony, its feelers thrashing around with more intensity. Through its deafening wails, Grunt and Shepard caught the crackling hum of the particle beam, interspersed with sniper rounds.


Hope rose within them, and their eyes filled with determination. Even though the beast hardly let up, Grunt was slowly pushing himself back to his feet. It drove the teeth deeper, but he felt hope filling his veins.

-o-o-o-

Slowly, Garrus caught a bigger glimpse of the two as Grunt managed to raise the beast off of them. But it didn’t look good. Even from this distance, he could see the weakened state the Krogan was in.


Garrus kept his hold on the trigger, willing the beam to be stronger. Already, it was melting through the shields of the beast. It was almost dead.


Nagoroth continued firing the sniper, but he glanced over at the Turian as Garrus gave a loud curse.


Garrus could only stare at the weapon in his hand as it ran out of charge.


At the same moment, the sniper rifle in Nagoroth’s hands clicked empty, running out of heat sinks to cool the weapon down.


They exchanged a disbelieving glance.

-o-o-o-

Grunt was now fully on his feet, still struggling under the force, but holding his own. Shepard did not like the amount of blood collected around his feet.


Both paused as the sounds of fire stopped.


“Shit.” The Commander exhaled.


Roaring, the Thresher Maw lurched forward once more.


But Grunt wasn’t fooled. He could feel the weakness in the beast. Could smell its fear. He glanced one last time at Shepard, drinking in her face, in case he was wrong. She only looked at him in confusion.


Then Grunt roared, a surge of strength allowing him to shove the beast off his back long enough for him to turn around.


He caught the feelers at the side of the mouth as it came back down, screaming its fury. But Grunt gave a guttural snarl. He would not let them die.


He would not let *her* die.


He was staring at those beady eyes now. He was right. He could see the fear in them as he leveled it with his icy glare.


His muscles bunched with exertion as he stretched them to their limit, his arms pulling outward. The beast’s eyes widened as it felt a slight tear along its hide. Its shields were down. Garrus had made sure of that. It was just a mass of flesh and guts now.


Wriggling, it squealed and attempted to get away.


With a roar, the Krogan expelled the last of his energy to rip the Thresher Maw’s jaw in two, a rush of satisfaction streaming along with the blood that poured out. The two sides of its face flailed, almost in disbelief, before flopping lifelessly to either side of Grunt.


He breathed heavily as he spared it one last glance, turning to look at Shepard.


Except she wasn’t anywhere to be found.


Grunt frowned, panic surging forth as he whipped his head from side to side. She had been right there! Right… where the small lake of the beast’s blood was now…


Snarling, Grunt lunged forward, reaching within the thick surface of blood for the Commander’s body. His hand was caught by one of hers, which was gripping his frantically. A spike of icy fear stabbed at him as that hand slowly went dormant. With a growl, he calculated where the rest of her body would be under the liquid and stones, and smashed his other fist through.


With a guttural cry, he heaved upwards, a blood covered Commander hanging limply in his arms. He knew he must’ve done some damage, just yanking her out of her stone prison like that, but it had to have been better than letting her drown.


Loose gravel and rocks splashed around the crimson pool at their feet, the liquid quick to fill the gaping hole where Shepard had lain previously. Chest heaving and energy all but spent, Grunt looked down at the slender body in his arms. How could a creature so fragile be so full of strength? Of determination?


Perhaps Grunt had not lived long, but from what he had observed since he was on Shepard’s crew, he had come to realize that the Commander was something special. He felt something within him twist inside as he gazed at her unmoving form. Growling, he hugged her body to him as he kicked away the torn half of the Thresher Maw, walking through the opening between steaming flesh and hard rock to the vast expanse of desert.


He didn’t know what to think. What to do.


She had given him the will… a reason to live. A meaning. A purpose.


*She* had been that purpose. And now…


He couldn’t explain the sudden anger that welled up inside. It was an anger unlike any other. Perhaps he had felt a fraction of it when they were in battle, at times when Shepard was pinned down, or caught out in the open with shields so weak she was almost down on the ground.


But this…


Grunt looked down at her and snarled, “Fight. Fight this Shepard. Wake up!”


When she remained unresponsive, he growled louder, “Fight, damn you!”


He thought he heard the tiniest groan stumble through her lips, her head lolling slightly to one side.


Craning his neck lower, he rumbled softly, “Once, a long time ago, you barely fought back when I attacked you in the Normandy. You were willing to let me crush you to your very last breathe. All to simply give me a chance to see the meaning in life. To fight alongside you. Now all I ask… no, demand… is for you to fight now. Fight Shepard! You’re not going to give the dead spirit of the Thresher Maw the satisfaction of knowing you were killed after all.”


He searched her face for even a miniscule change. But nothing happened. Growling, he shook her hard, “Fight Shepard!”


Almost immediately, Shepard’s body jerked violently as a stream of crimson liquid spewed from her lips. Cleared of Thresher Maw blood, her lungs were free to cough and hack. Grunt didn’t think he had ever heard or seen a more beautiful sight.


“Shepard…” Relief washed over him, and her name slipped absentmindedly from his mouth, his voice rumbling his pleasure.


“Grunt…” She murmured softly after her coughing fit was over, her eyes coming in to focus as she met his blue gaze.


“Shepard?” He responded, curious.


He was taken aback as her arm reached up to grab his chest plate armor, jerking him closer to her as she snarled softly, “If you ever… EVER… risk your life like that again… I’ll court martial you.”


Saying what she had to say, she shot him one last glare before promptly passing out, though this time the slow rise and fall of her chest assured Grunt she was all right.


“Stubborn, suicidal woman…” Grunt growled affectionately.