When all three nodded with various degrees of enthusiasm and belief, Tann knew he’d made the right choice. The key was the future. There would be no future if they didn’t get this handled. Tann turned back to Spender.
“And that’s why I would like you to go wake up Nakmor Morda, and request her help with Corvannis.”
“Him?!” Practically a salted snort, Kesh thought so little of the choice.
Spender blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Glanced at Kesh.
“Not that I’m unwilling, but why me?”
Tread carefully, Tann told himself. This must be played just right, because the true best option was Kesh, but the last thing he wanted to do was give Morda the impression of a krogan power position here.
He gestured at himself ruefully.
“I am inclined to believe that direct negotiations between a salarian of my standing and a krogan of—such as it is—hers would not go well. No offense intended, Kesh.”
“None taken,” Kesh replied seriously. “It makes far more sense to send me, though.”
“All due respect, Kesh, but I gather that a powerful clan leader such as Nakmor Morda will not react well to the fact she’s been left asleep when the labor force was revived.”
Kesh’s mouth sealed into a grim line.
Got her. He continued. “By sending my aide—”
“My aide,” Addison said sharply. She frowned at Spender. “For all he seems to have forgotten it.”
“I’ve only been trying to help,” Spender shot back, equally sharp. “Wherever my help is needed.”
Tann inclined his head. “Mr. Spender has been incredibly helpful and, more importantly, extremely flexible with his time. For this reason, he has earned something of a reputation for speaking on my behalf.”
Addison’s face pulled into something Tann couldn’t distinguish between a grimace and a flinch. Both, maybe? Human faces, so malleable.
“Is Sloane on board with this Morda plan?” Addison asked.
“If she hadn’t vanished I would have consulted her.”
Addison squinted at him. “Maybe we should wait for her. Whatever she went off to do, it must be important.”
Tann wondered what that could have been, but decided it did not matter. “We must hope she is safe,” he said, “but there is no time to wait.” Privately, he wasn’t convinced that Sloane would approve of his current plan. She rarely approved of any of them.
Besides, this really could not wait.
Tann cleared his throat delicately. “As I was saying, by sending Mr. Spender, we are showing Morda the respect that she is due.”
“By sending a puppet?” Kesh asked bluntly. Then, to Spender, with zero feeling, “No offense.”
“None taken,” he replied, echoing Kesh’s earlier words, but Tann saw his mouth twist.
Kesh made a deep grunt. “Only I can initiate the stasis override.”
Tann felt as if he were suddenly at the edge of a cliff. He’d forgotten this little detail, and now, for the first time since she’d entered the room, he really looked at Kesh. “Will you do it?” he asked. “For Spender? I realize there’s little love between the two of you, but you must see that I’m right, Kesh.”
“I… reluctantly agree it is a good plan.”
“And Morda? Will she listen to Spender?”
Spender opened his mouth to say something, but Tann waved him quickly to remain silent. Let this be Kesh’s idea, he tried to say with his eyes.
Kesh shifted her weight from one foot to the other, thinking. She said, “By sending a representative that is far beneath her in standing but above me in the political hierarchy, you will show her the importance of the request.” She flattened a hand over the blackened tears in the clothing at her side, as if it pained her. “Morda will be pleased by this, and also enjoy the opportunity to intimidate a puppet.” Her smile showed a lot of fang, and she aimed it squarely at Spender. “Treat her like just any krogan, little man, and she’ll be picking your bones out of her teeth.”
Spender smiled back. It was strained. No love lost between these two.
“Good,” Tann said loudly, and he clapped his hands. “It’s decided. Spender will go negotiate with the Nakmor leader for krogan assistance in this unpleasant matter. The mutiny’s ringleader will soon be taken care of, and we,” he stressed, gesturing at Addison and Kesh, “can begin working on ways to address the people’s concerns.”
Spender was already nodding.
“What of Sloane?” Kesh studied Tann in that slow way she had.
Easily decided. “We tell the krogan to look out for her,” Tann replied readily. “And if possible, escort her safely back to Operations so we can include her in the discussions.”
“All right.” Addison’s brow was a red tangle of eyebrows and frown lines, but she nodded in a slow, uncertain rhythm. “I’d rather this get solved before anyone else dies on our watch.” She rested her fingertips on the edge of the console, pinning Spender with a hard stare. “Don’t aggravate the krogan, Spender. Morda is… well, you know.”
“Believe me,” Spender said as he straightened his uniform jacket. As earnest as Tann had ever seen the man. “Pissing off a krogan war band is the last thing I want to do.”
Tann gave him a pat on the back and guided him to the door. “Listen,” he said under his breath. “I realize we’re asking a lot of you here. I appreciate—”
“Chief of Staff,” Spender said.
“What?”
“Make me Chief of Staff. If Morda agrees, I want to work directly for you, and not as a damned gopher.”
Tann looked him square in the eye and saw a hunger not present in Addison’s gaze, or Sloane’s. “I believe that can be arranged,” Tann replied. “If Morda agrees…”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Spender’s hands were damp with nervous sweat by the time he received word that Morda had unfrozen. Kesh had initiated the process ten minutes before, and left once the vitals all showed green. She’d chuckled as she passed him, a sound that still echoed in his ears.
Standard stasis pods weren’t huge, by necessity. Big enough to comfortably fit the species their design called for. The outlier to the design came when they’d suddenly had to deal with a complement of Nakmor krogan. Such pods were understandably larger.
Much, much larger.
While Spender had no illusions about the objective size of krogan warriors, Nakmor Morda’s reputation cast a long shadow. As he waited for the only available technicians to get her through medical, he found his leg bouncing in uncontrollable nerves.
Nakmor Morda.
The profile he’d devoured on the way to the guarded communications room painted a bleak picture. A female clan leader, which said a lot about her capabilities. The Tuchanka Urdnot leader, Wrex, hadn’t been a krogan who suffered fools, and Spender knew from diplomatic association that anyone who could impress him was bound to scare anyone else.
By all accounts, Nakmor wasn’t a soft clan—they were brutish, impatient, and aggressive. All traits the krogan valued, all reasons William Spender wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.
It was pretty much a given that she would be angry. She’d probably also stink like a—
Abruptly voices were raised in warning. They echoed the heavy, dangerous tread of a krogan on the warpath. Spender braced himself as much as he could before the door flung wide. It cracked into the back paneling and boomed out a metallic, dissonant gong. Just what the Nakmor clan leader needed to mark her entrance.