theroguesniper:

Well. Garrus didn’t know what he had expected, but it certainly hadn’t been this. The Primarch breaking protocol -and quite a few regulations- to have a drink or three? Damn. He liked his style.

“I uh…” he stuttered, perhaps a little thrown off by the request. It didn’t take him long to regain himself, however, and soon he was nodding at Victus, mandibles flaring. “Gladly, sir. If you would follow me to the Crew Deck, we happen to have a fantastic lounge. Poker table and everything.” cocking his head towards the elevator, Garrus turned and led the way to the former Starboard Observation Deck. “So, uh… forgive the intrusion, sir, but what brings you here?” he knew that Victus had told him to relax, and he had… sort of. This was still the Primarch we were talking about, no matter how much he asked him to drop the act -however good at that he was,- some very deep and obscure part of him still held some of the good turian he never was. Old habits die hard, as they say.

                         He was practiced enough to hide the sly smile that lifted his plates.  Vakarian recovered well, all things considered.  Most turians would spontaneously develop scale itch at the very thought of the Primarch of Palaven breaking regs.  Well, damn them.  He was still a man, and he needed a break too.  Any student of turian military history would do well to remember that Adrien Victus had never been one for playing by the rules.

                      “Poker?” He repeated curiously.  “You’ve served on a human vessel too long.  don’t tell me this whole ship doesn’t have a single deck of pazaak on it?"  He followed as bidden, his eagerness muted by his strict posture and mild – but almost teasing – tone.  He sobered a bit at the question.  "Business with the Commander, naturally.  It didn’t quite turn out the way I wanted.  They’re a tough egg to crack, to use the human expression."  It was not exactly right to call the Primarch sullen.  More…resigned.  He so rarely had to settle.

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