"Name one physical scar and one Emotional scar and the story behind each."
Sometimes it’s hard to distinguish. The scars on my body? They carry memories.
Take this one over my ribs, for example. A brute knocked me flat on Menae. Barreled right into me. The shields absorbed most of the kinetic energy from the initial impact, but hell, it had to travel somewhere. If physics isn’t your friend, it’s your enemy. The strike alone left me jarred. I sat stunned against a damned lunar outcrop for more than a few moments. The rocks punched through my armor. The weak part, just under the arms. One of many close calls. As far as wounds go, it’s not the worst. Not nearly. —But it reminds me how close death breathes on our heels. If my men hadn’t shot the thing down before it swung at me again, perhaps Shepard would have been forced to find yet another Primarch on that moon.
But this…this is the hard question. It’s one I’ve been avoiding. My wife was a gifted orator. She was a major in the Hierarchy, but also damn good with words, and she intuitively knew how they could be used to the best effect. In addition to her duties as an enlisted servicewoman, she’d tour turian systems, advocating for improved relations with aliens. She could get pretty passionate about it. But this…this was long before Shepard. Long before the galaxy came together in a united front. The wounds of the Relay 314 Incident still felt fresh, even though just about two decades had passed.
I’ve been known to have been particularly ruthless with turian separatists. Although, professionally, I have legitimate reasons for my distaste, I would be lying if I did not also admit to a personal grudge. Eleven years ago — long before the Taetrus incident — there’d been a height of revolutionary uprisings. The economy was down, despite the best efforts of the volus, and unemployment on the Citadel and colony worlds was sharply rising. Such downturns come and go, but they are devastating while they last. There were…many reasons…that people were disgruntled. Eyes turned outward, seeking to lay blame on others, and to break away from the stringent dictates of the meritocracy simultaneously. Angry young men and women became armed men and women.
The turian consulate on Shanxi was bombed, as was the embassy on Earth. A clear statement. My wife was hardly the target. Many civilians died. Many more were injured. I was on leave (at home, for once) and Tarquin was in school. Sitting the child down and telling him what had happened to his mother was the hardest conversation I’ve had in my life. And I remember every word.
"What is one one thing you would change about yourself. If you choose to change nothing, what is something that you want to change in your life in general?"
Right now? All I want is to resign from my position as Primarch. Never has a posting given me such misery. There are many reasons why I hate what I do — stuck in these offices, reading reports on deaths by the millions, forced away from the action, political maneuvering when what we need is decisive action.
It’s hell.
—-But someone has to do it, and I’m damn good at it. Of course, I’d be promptly replaced if I were to be killed - for I would never abandon my duty - but if I died now, the fallout would be tremendous. Primarch Fedorian was killed early on, into the very beginning of the siege of Palaven. Now, the war is in full force and I am the only turian with full connections to our allies, thanks to the summit on the Normandy and my idea for krogan support. The chaos, the vacuum that would follow my absence, wold endanger the Hierarchy — the turians at a time when every second counts. And for that reason alone, I’ll do my damndest to stay in office.
"Name one person you regret killing, and one person you don't regret killing."
I’ll be honest. Picking out individuals is…hard. As a general for over twenty years, I’m used to seeing battles in broad strokes. Of course I strive to learn my enemy when I can, but it’s all too common to cut down combatants without ever knowing so much as their name, let alone their stories.
—On Taetrus, after letting the separatists wear themselves down against the salarians for days, I swept in and decimated them. Didn’t lose a man. That victory gave me a cold triumph, both for its ruthless efficiency and for the sake of vengeance. Turians fighting against turians? That should have stopped with the Unification War. No one gets to bomb civilian centers and walk away. Not again. There’s a…personal story to that. But that’s for another time.
…As far as regrets? I don’t live with a lot of professional regrets. I do what I do for a reason. I don’t get to where I am by making a lot of bad calls. But…almost thirty years ago, I served in the Relay 314 Incident. Led an offensive planetside. The humans retaliated with guerilla tactics - sabotaging our vehicles in the night, IEDs, hit-and-runs. Found their HQ. Good fortifications, but we broke through. I killed their commander personally. I don’t regret the role I played. If it hadn’t been me, someone else would have taken my place. It was necessary, at the time. But I do regret that it was necessary. The Alliance lost a fine commander over a conflict that should never have gone on as long as it did.
"Describe your relationship with your family in three sentences or less."
“A gift I took for granted until my wife and son were stolen from me, leaving a burden I will bear forever.”
"Use four words to describe someone you love or someone you hate. Specify which, but do not name that person."
“Someone I love to my dying breath — young, idealistic, determined…and my joy.”
"How would you spend a relaxing day off with your significant other?"
“I’d get out of my damned office, for one. I need someplace quiet, someplace to think in peace and to enjoy her company. Presidium gardens, her place, hell — even parts of the Wards, watching the air traffic. I’d cook — or try to — watch a vid, save room for ample conversation. Slices of normality like that, and her idiosyncrasies….are treasures, and just as rare.”
"The one person you love/care about is dying in your arms and you can only say one thing before they pass. What do you say?"
“‘I love you’—nothing more need be said. Being in my arms, sharing this one, last intimacy…”
“It says everything that words cannot convey.”
"What was your relationship with the former Primarch of Palaven? Did you know him?"
“I had met Primarch Fedorian once, a few years ago, after the Taetrus offensive. Sometimes he had passed down mandates or orders for other such generals to carry out — but for the most part, in the daily running of turian life, Primarchs allow the self-governing meritocracy to remain autonomous. It was a working relationship only — I did not know the man, only the title. General Corinthus was far more familiar, and he rightly spoke highly of my predecessor.
I suspect Fedorian did not approve of my methods, although nothing of his demeanor suggested as such to me. He was straightforward, the quintessential turian, and he congratulated me for the liberation of Taetrus with a firm grip and steely gaze.
He was competent, of course, and a tactician of some standing, himself — but he was older; traditional, and rigid. Fedorian, as far as I knew, was set in his ways – and while he was an able diplomat, that is not what this time needs from its leaders.”
"What was Tarquin like as a child? (I'm sorry)"
[Mandibles flutter, a short bark of laughter] “—Curious about everything. This never really left him. That got him into trouble sometimes, but it was never more harmful than overturned wastebins which he was ‘excavating’. To our relief, he outgrew the archaeology phase. But his enthusiasm and curiosity never left him.
Ha, now, when he was very young, Quinny was so attached to Calpurnia, as all children are. Always at her heel, always clamoring for Mama’s attention, drawing her gifts…until, she said, he watched vids of my assault on Korlus decades ago — in school. After that, he had wanted everything done with Papa. Papa should throw him in the air and catch him, Papa should take him to the park. [chuckles] I was happy to get the attention, finally. Having Quinny run into my arms after spending months away in the service was a joy like few others.
He was always so eager to try to tackle his challenges. I am told he practiced the pyjack bars daily at school — he was awful at them at first, which resulted in lots of bruises and scraped palms and knees. Every day, his teachers said — every day he practiced through the entire recess period and after drills, sacrificing playtime to better himself and succeed. He was only six, but so determined that he did not mind the bumps along the way. It took him a week and a half to build up the strength, but he did it. I had been deployed elsewhere in the Apien Crest, but I remember being so proud.”
"vangxard"
We don’t always agree. Sometimes this can make things tense between us, but we’re both leaders, and soldiers, and I think we have an unspoken understanding. The Commander is only one woman, burdened with responsibilities unfit for even an army, but she always manages to pull through. I respect her like few others.