SHEPUUUURD

Despite the end of the Krogan Diaspora, the Blood Pack is still kicking around; though they have less Vorcha. Jennet has attempted to see to that as best she could. A krogan in Omega is common. Quite common, and centuries of propaganda is hard to scrub away with less than a fortnight of good graces. A big krogan wandering around? Bothersome, but nothing noteworthy among the change in the corridors and hollowed out streets of Omega to those outside of the Krogan species.

Besides, Jennet is not omnipotent. She could connect herself to the numerous monitoring systems within Omega, but she had chosen not to. Too much like Reapers, too much like synthetics for organics to be comfortable with. She taken the role of Guardian of the galaxy seriously with her intimate knowledge of organic life. It’s harder, it will take far longer, but the element of choice still remains.

Oh, but even with a digital mind, her human flaws bleed past algorithm, platform, and code. Even though the coloring is subtly different, it’s enough to remind anyone if they knew Jennet Shepard. But that was little over a dozen in a galaxy of trillions and all of those she left behind had become busy with their own lives and respectability, with a large percentage entering into middle age with children of their own.

Some had Dozens.

She knew there was a Krogan in the restaurant, but it was Omega. The noodles were made from wheat of an Earth colony and vegetables remarkably good for where she was sitting. Listening to the two boys, watching the crowds outside the window, savoring the noodles by smell and tasting them upon her tongue, her optics were wonderfully engaged. The chopsticks were twirling the noodles and something akin to a snap pea when a familiar voice echoed behind her.

If the wide cant of shoulders, the soft curtain of hair, and the smell of rose water were not enough, the way how she didn’t jolt in her seat at the deep growl of a voice said it all. She turned her head and though the face was thinner with softer curves of cheeks and chin, Shepard large expressive eyes and the regal aquiline nose remained though it wasn’t quite the same face Wrex last saw. Even her shoulders were slightly more narrow than what he last recalled. It looks like Jennet but it’s clearly not her body.

For long moments she regarded the Overlord, her former lover, and now the father of reborn peoples.

“Wrex.” Dark head turns to her meal, her hair a touch more russet than the midnight black of when Wrex last saw her, and says, “I’d recommend picking up a bowl before you lose your temper and getting the chicken, it’s actual bird meat.”

She knows him well. Temper is rising in his blood. Wrex isn’t one to shout in anger. In battle? Certainly. To be heard over arguing idiots? Always. But his age has tempered his anger just enough to let him bite down on it before he can explode. “Don’t go anywhere and I will,” he grunted. The Krogan went to the server and ordered himself a bowl. He kept a red eye trained on Shepard the entire time.

Once his bowl was ready, he picked it up and returned to her. Silently, he sat down opposite of her and wrapped some of the noodles around his chopsticks. With eyes fixed on her, he brought the noodles to his mouth and chewed . . . the bits of chicken not just real but fresh. On Omega? What a surprise. Perhaps the asteroid was turning around.

But Wrex only allows himself to be distracted for a short time. “So. You’re alive.” And different looking. Plastic surgery? “Didn’t feel like giving me a call, hm?” Red eyes fixate on her. “Interesting. I sort of thought we meant something to each other. Even if we didn’t, even if I was mistaken, I thought you respected me enough to at least let me know that you’re alive.” 

He lets her stew in that for a moment, taking another helping of his meal. A slow chew. A slow swallow. “Apparently not. You wanted me to go the rest of my life thinking you were dead.” His chopsticks rest in his bowl, and his pupils tighten in his red gaze--hurt. “Why?”

“Udina…” She says that name with a heavy sigh paired with furrow brow. There’s a slight tightness across her nose when she finds herself vexed, the scar doing a number of tightening her skin there. Gloved hand goes up to the bridge of her nose … or would. The breather mask is on. “Udina has human colonies on his shoulders, and yet he barks like a junk yard dog. I’m not entirely sure how he became our best to present to the galaxy. Fist? Well, we’ve got several Fists on Earth and scattered around the galaxy.” She grins, though it might not be caught under reflective glass. “I’m not here to impress you, Wrex. I’m here to boss you around until we can pay you.” 

Shoulder lifts and the helmed head cocks just slightly. “Back on my planet we’re squabbling over water, which name to call a God that’s becoming less and less likely to exist and His preferences, and various shades of skin color. The only reason we didn’t blow ourselves up is that cooler heads prevailed. I promise you, Humanity isn’t all that different from Krogan.” Math is done quickly, and her eyes grow wide behind glass; he could have been born when the Prophet Muhammad began to speak of his revelations.

For a moment she’s silent in the Mako as they drive back out into cold sunlight with a broken smoke sky above them. 

 Once upon a time, a leader of the nation of her father’s blood denied a Holocaust and this nation held this belief for several decades. It’s different now. It’s more akin to when the Achaemenid rule ended the Jewish Babylonian exile - Persian and Jews friends once more. “Wrex, that’s absolute bullshit. Not one species deserves a genocide done to them. Not one. From what I read you all were uplifted to a fight in a war without any attempt of cultural understanding by the galactic community, right? They fucked your people over twice. I won’t say the Krogan were entirely blameless, but there’s a sense of imperialism that I don’t like about this situation.”

And then she drove, the Mako durable in its rambling but hard to control. Jennet swore up and down it was the handling and not her skill level, though that fell upon deaf ears. This time she was careful, extra careful, as wheels bobbled along rocky surface while green eyes kept keen and alert on the landscape. There’s more than just the Maws, there are Geth somewhere on the planet. “Sounds like those creatures are just daring people to shoot at them.” There’s a hint of a smile in her voice as the ground becomes smoother, a sure sign they were returning to the nest, “That scar across my nose came from acid back splatter. I don’t think I’d have a nose at all if there was a direct hit.” 

The Mako stops swiftly; say what they will about the handling. It stops on a dime.

There’s soft click as she adjusts the breather mask over the light armor and the faintly acidic taste of oxygen fills her nostrils and tongue. Shepard simply took her M-6 Carnifex and M-97 Viper, leaving the sub machine gun within the land rover as she warily regarded the krogan. “Would that plan be killing it?”

She renders him silent when she defends his people and the card they had been dealt. Eyes turn to her in his silent contemplation. He isn’t sure he’s ever come across a non-Krogan before who took it upon themselves to defend his people. His gut reaction is to tell her they’re not worth it. They’re too stupid. Too entrenched in the past. There’s no hope for a species that only looks back and never forward. 

But her words leave him room to contemplate. But later. After they’ve taken care of this maw. 

“No nose?” Wrex grunts. “You’d look too much like a Salarian then.” His tone suggests that wouldn’t be a good thing. Once she was on the ground with him, Wrex smirked at her suggestion. “That’s the goal, Shepard. Kill it or die trying. No walking away. Can’t always run from your fears. Better to kill them.” Wrex paused. He could feel a slight tremble beneath him. His nose, honed by evolution cycles of being a prey species, picked up the telltale scent of acid.

“It’s close.” His weight lowers just a little, helping him maintain a balance as the shakes become worse. “Maws have one real weakness. Their eyes. Big and blue. Can’t miss them. Hit those, and it will go down.” Only problem was that maws liked to dive in and out. Or spit acid and then tunnel like a coward. “I’m gonna get close. Give those whiskers a good tug. You aim for its eyes and put it down.” 

It was a crazy plan, but one needed a crazy plan to take down a thresher maw. “You got this, Shepard,” he assured her, then punched his chest and shimmered blue. Letting out a battle roar, Wrex stomped on the ground until the maw burst forward a few meters ahead of them. The Krogan charged forward, shotgun firing as his biotics launched him a good few feet ahead. 

The maw hissed down at them, spitting out venom to stop them. Wrex dodged the strands of saliva, then continued his charge. “COME ON, YOU GIANT WORM! COME AND EAT ME!” His biotics surged, and he launched himself up into the air, giving another shot of his gun into the maw’s mouth. Stowing his gun on his back, Wrex grabbed the first tendril on the maw’s face that he could reach and tugged down, falling to the ground with it. 

The maw roared in pain and anger, trying to spit at him, but the eyes were in a good range for Shepard to hit.

Wrex fixes a red eye on her and doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even move. Then he suddenly bellows, “APRIL FOOL’S, SHEPUUUUUURD!” The volume of his shout shakes the very room around them. Looking quite satisfied, eyes half-closing, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Heh. Strapping a nuclear bomb to Wreav isn’t such a bad idea. That’ll make for a good dream tonight, Shepard.” 

The Krogan nods at her. “So, where’s your big prank, lambchop? Been waiting all day for it.”

“There’s a distinction,” And it was! Different forms of discipline and manners, with the Marines still holding onto some tropes of the earlier century. It was the reason her hair is short and only now is she wearing lipstick and kajal.”And thus needs to be categorized. Any damn Marine will tell you that and look at me with disappointment in defending the Navy.” 

“You’re telling me.” Because that was disappointing, as she found in late teen hood. “They do manage to figure out they fire only once a round.” And she’s met few who mastered it. This was still a very strange conversation to have with a male outside her species. And there he is, that huge species that could easily crush a woman of her size with weight alone. True to form, Shepard doesn’t move. There’s a change in heart rate but that’s common with humans dealing with the larger species. 

“It is a mystery.” 

Lips pull into a smirk when she confirms the disappointing aspect of her species. “Whelps get a little too excited early. Easy to blow the heat sink after a few shoves. We get better though. We live a long time to figure it all out.” At least if the Krogan was smart and lucky, anyway. Some never got it. And some never lived long enough to build up their endurance. 

But her reaction is interesting. Her answer even more so. “To you?” he asked. “Or to me?” Lifting his head, he resumes his full height and considers her closely. Shapely. Spirited. And he was curious. “Good set of quads could help you find out.”

“What are you on about, Shepard?” Wrex grunted, relaxing in his favorite chair in the lounge. Mostly because it was the only chair that could support his large bulk. And because it leaned. “I’ve had ice. And I’ve had cream. The two together don’t make a lot of sense to me.” The Krogan eyed her for a moment. “Are we about to have ourselves a cultural exchange? Because I do tit for tat, Shepard. You want me to try something soft and human, then you need to try something hard and Krogan . . . heh heh heh.” 

Shameless, as always. “Alright then, show me this . . . ice cream . . . of yours.”

“Not all of it was hiding,” There’s an odd quietness to her voice, though there had been hiding. Far more sprinting and estimating of where the trembling would begin and end. Shepard had eerily found that facing a Maw on foot was far easier than one on a rover. Far easier. Jennet’s shocked how much of that memory comes back with clarity; she didn’t kill the damn thing but she had seen toxic blood on the ground by the time the sun rose. “Your still haven’t figured out humans yet, Wrex? Is this ship the first time you’ve interacted with any that don’t have positions of authority?”

Green eyes watch him behind dark lashes and black kohl; ever since she was given rank of Spectre she’s been wearing make up and letting her hair grow out, but her gaze is still strong as steel, even as the krogan makes himself comfortable next to her. Barely any room to spare. “That’s something I’m afraid of, he’s an excellent shot but doesn’t think. Cocky.”

She dials the request to Moreau through the Omnitool to drop them off on planet. Jennet’s not terribly surprised the pilot answers back quickly. “Tuchanka, right?” Dark head looks up then as she hears the engines shift as the Normandy begins to move. “Not a very hospital world for outsiders.” Hand holds up, “I’m not judging, Earth nearly did the same thing less than 50 years after we discovered the atomic bomb.” That ghost of a smile, *luck*. “But here’s my point. The planet down there has more in common with your home than Akuze. So it feels something is off.”

Still, she listens to the krogan tell his story, her eyes momentarily widening, giving a brief smile as she feels the swift decline of the Normandy tipping back to the wasteland below them. She runs her fingers through her hair to fluff damp locks and places her breather mask on. “I’m afraid I’ve got technical armor, overdrive, and good with a pistol and merely okay with a sniper gun. But… I know how to handle my biotics far better.”

There’s rumble and dip, and Jennet knows they’re ready to hit surface and back to the wastelands.

Her question is fair. “Most humans I’ve had to deal with are either ass-kissers like that Chancellor of yours or cock-suckers like Fist. So, yeah, this is my first time interacting with humans that are just a step above civilian level .Still waiting to be impressed.” But there’s a smirk on his lips. The only human of note he’d met so far was her. The other female was ignorant and clearly scared of him, and the human male was a dunce. At least the pilot had a few good jokes. 

A red eye turns to her when she mentions Tuchanka not being hospital. “Yeah, we earned that. Not the genophage. No one deserves that. But the inhospitable world. Reap what you sow, right, Shepard? I’m old enough to have seen some of the Krogan Rebellions. Even fought in them, myself. A large part of is just natural instinct. You grow up on a planet where everything wants to kill you, then you toughen up . . . fight back just as hard. It’s hard to turn off that survival instinct.” 

Wrex shook his head. “But we were stupid. Turned against each other instead of bigger and more honorable enemies. Now we’re even worse. Either scattered across the galaxy taking jobs and waiting for the right bullet to end us . . . or headbutting each other at home and reliving the glory days through wine and waste.” His tone was bitter. “It wasn’t right what they did,” he said again, “but we haven’t done anything to deserve it any less since.”

His gaze returned forward, watching the landscape ahead of them once they drove off. As she listed off what she had for her arsenal, he nodded. “Pistol is good if you aim for the glowing parts. Sensitive places. Biotics are good, too. They don’t know what to do with Biotics. Just stay clear of the acid and feel for the trembles below you, and you’ll be fine.”

They neared the area where the maw had broken surface briefly. “We should stop here,” he told her. “Better to go on foot.” Once the mako stopped, he got out and took his shotgun out from its holder. “I have a plan, Shepard. You may not like it . . . but I can guarantee that whenever you face a maw again, you’ll laugh right in its face.”

“Ah. Look, I’ve worn fatigues and dress blues all the time. Now, going by the Marines, very few possesses the gift of digression. Are you telling me the Navy learned this skill better than a couple of Jarheads?” There’s a crack of a grin, arms still crossed. It’s not that she doesn’t believe it, she had always considered herself too aloof to set a tongue wagging. The Alliance was diverse, but a pale skinned, light haired beauty was still ideal among the ranks.

Jennet with her coal black hair, freckled dark skin, and height didn’t exactly fit that mold. “Well, mostly among Alliance crew, Wrex. Ash and Kaidan couldn’t get involved without informing me and then I’d have to sign off on papers they’re dating. It’s less being prudes and more about concern for abuse.”

Mhm. She didn’t expect a laugh; though Shepard wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. “Well, biological human men have an extremely hard time going when they squirt. One and done.” The Spectre’s expression is neutral as she stares at the red-eye, not entirely believing she’s having this conversation. “Biological human females don’t commonly squirt.”

Wrex shook his head. “You’re categorizing it. Don’t need to. It’s plain and simple, Shepard. You’re an attractive female. They notice. I notice they notice. Live a few hundred years, and you can pick up the signs, too.” Behavior never  changed. Human, Quarian, Asari. Centuries passed and everyone acted exactly the same fucking way as they did when he was born. 

“Sounds disappointing,” Wrex summarized when she stated that human men typically couldn’t keep going after an orgasm. Though her tip about human women confused him. Particularly the idea of squirting at all. The big Krogan takes a step forward, invading her space. Lowering his head to her height, he fixes a red eye on her.

“Do you?”

“Tali? Tali'Zorah? Really?” Shepard spoke with the young quarian often; she did with all her crew when they were receptive to conversation. It did strike her that Tali might be dazzled by the concept of a female space marine as something of she’d like to be but… It hadn’t struck her that Tali would nearly run into walls because of her. Or people speaking about her approvingly. “I think you’re bullshtting me about Tali and the idea about the new uniform? The Spectre whites or the fatigues? You realize they’re amazed humanity was accepted as a Spectre in such a short amount of time.”

Arms cross as she looking up to the Krogan skeptically, a rarity for Jennet with most she spoke to, “Forgive me for being a little skeptical about that observation. It might be Saren or it might be the fact Alliance doesn’t look well on fraternization among active crew.” Mouth tucks into a small moul as she considers him for a moment, those expressive brows betraying too much humor. “Wrex, where I come from, half the time isn’t much of a brag when it comes to biology.”

If he was going to tease her about being everyone’s current crush, she’d give a dose of his own medication.

“Heh heh heh. Non-Krogans are easy to bullshit. But not this time. They’re admiring the body in the uniform. And your leaders telling you that you can’t?” Wrex shook his head. “Makes it all the more enticing. Everyone likes to sneak around the rules.” Especially where sex was concerned. Her quick comeback has him laughing his full-bellied laugh, head tilting back slightly. It shakes the floor beneath them.

“Good one, Shepard.” A nod of approval. “But I didn’t say one and done. There’s nothing wrong with a quick squirt as long as you can keep going after. That separates the professionals from the weak.” Wrex leaned in close, a red eye peering closely at her. “Are you a professional or weak, Shepard?” 

OVER PROTECTIVE KROGAN FWB PLEASES ME

“Guhhhh,” a rumble of disapproval rolls through him, vibrating his throat. Not at the kiss. That’s good. But her words. “I don’t worry too much. I worry the exact amount I should worry. The amount that keeps you alive.” Red eyes swivel down to her short frame. She’s not really that short, but everyone is short for a Krogan. Except Turians. Lengthy bastards.

“You’d be more fine if you brought me with you,” he reminded her. The large Krogan is a pillar of strength and wisdom. Though he wouldn’t consider himself particularly wise--just smart enough not to be an idiot and with plenty of experience to draw back on. Yet in front of Shepard, he almost feels soft. As squishy as the human before him. Which was apt considering it was her fault he was this way in the first place.

Not that he’s admit that. What kind of Krogan would he be if he did that? Instead, he grabs her ass and tugs her against him. “Kasumi’s got you in this nice dress and now you get to show it off to a bunch of rich dicks. I saw the guest list. No Krogan. What? We’re not fancy enough to rub elbows with the wealthy? We’re the ones who probably helped them attain their riches in the first place,” he grunted.

This was probably why she wasn’t letting him come with her and Kasumi to recover the greybox. He’d turn the party into a soapbox about Krogan rights and prejudices against his people. Still. He didn’t like the idea of her going to a mansion full of rich creeps. The more money they had, the freakier they were. And the more likely they were to stab you in the back.

“If you’re not back by tonight, I’ll tear that mansion bit by bit until I find you,” he rumbled low, pupil widening in his red eyes.

When she counted only the two that she believed held a romantic interest in her, Wrex grunted, shaking his head. “I’ll chalk it up to your attention being too preoccupied in hunting Saren for missing the obvious. The Quarian nearly ran into a wall when you walked by because she couldn’t stop staring at you. And the tiny humans with tiny jobs have been whispering about how the new uniform looks on you. Approvingly.” 

The Krogan gave a short laugh, his head jutting upwards with the sound. “No, Shepard. You’re hot stuff right now. And everyone on this ship is looking to help lower your stress levels.” His wide mouth curled into a smirk. “Not that they can do much with the disappointing equipment biology has given them. A pair, Shepard?” he laughed again. “No wonder it takes you humans a few tries to make anything stick. A quad gets the job done in half the time.” A simple boast. But true. 

If it had been her in the Mako, just her in the wheel and with the guns, would she have run? Shepard couldn’t say. Not in a situation like this. There’s only one field report in Alliance history that would analyze how she’d react to facing that son of a bitch on solo, and she should know. She fucking wrote it. It was a survivor’s report.

All it could tell anyone was not to bet her crew’s life to a Thresher Maw.

So, she’ll write up another report, compare it to her survivor’s report, and start to analyze but she already knows there’s only two commonalities in each incident and the only known strategy against it.

There’s a barely perceptive tremble before Maw’s attack, they move like silver liquid within rocky soil, and they tunnel out from the ground from such a speed that it ceramic and steel in two. And that’s just the fucking arrival. There’s the tentacles that crush bone or split skulls and acid that burn through the body as if armor and shielding don’t exist.

So, step one. There are tremors if you pay attention to the environment but ….

But! That’s the fucking thing. It’s the goddamn environment.

Akuze had been a garden planet, transitional between … between… Mother of Isa, she couldn’t remember… Geological comparison had been addressed in the mission log but she can’t remember the exact name, but Mesozoic sounds close. Anyway, a garden world. And the planet her crew just left might support a zen garden, if Geths enjoyed zen gardens. That was the reason they were on Antibaar, to find the Geth outposts, so they couldn’t exactly avoid this planet.

The only commonality in environment between Akuze and Antibaar is a bereft of artificial structures.

So, the recommended strategy? Run, motherfucker!

Kaidan remembers she incident, he asked her once and she pushed the story away and Ash should know, but she bets Ash is having a high of her life. Garrus and Tali'Zorah? They’re both kids, why should they care what the new race does while getting its footing? Tali was likely just hitting what constitutes for puberty (… do quarrians have puberty?) when Jennet was darting from broken IVF to turret from rivets of acid. Dr. T'soni has little reason to care and Urdnot Wrex has even less. But here the krogan is, asking her about it.

"If it can breathe, it can die.” The woman chuckles faintly, modifying a classic action film, though the dark eyebrows rise up in surprise, “You managed to kill one as a kid … for a ritual? Is this commonly known in Council space or is this just Krogan knowledge?” There’s weight on her shoulders and there’s a hot stab of anger, not so much towards him, but the Council. She understands about not wanting to hand hold a new space fearing race but dealing with fucking worm that wipes out colonies like kids eating at a mehmooni sounds like the first thing in the ‘Welcome to Space’ pamphlet.

The surprise fades as the eyes rest on her and unsure what he’s trying to judge, “I survived because of luck, Wrex, and if the Council has as much information as the Alliance does, that’s probably why most die. Sheer ignorance.” Fear absolutely comes from ignorance, not knowing where it breeds and what environments it thrives in or what signs to look out for frightens Shepard. Better people than she died that day.

There’s the back of the pilot’s seat between them as he leans closer; Shepard has seen the krogan and other krogan in action as well and while she’s the last human Wrex will meet that tries not to judge the singular for the whole, Jennet has decided it’s not wise to get anyone that big upset for petty reasons - only for valid. “I’d never think it would be easy,” She cracks a slow smile, “Those thing’s head and necks are the size of the largest animal that lived on Earth.” She turns for a moment in her seat, looking at her hands, they shook but … “Yeah, well, the last thing we need is running into that thing again when we’re trying to find that Geth stronghold.”

“Heh. Hell, Shepard. Anyone who’s alive is alive because they’re lucky. One wrong step could blow them to smithereens with a forgotten mine, or blasted through a window into space, or hide just well enough from a Maw. Luck doesn’t make you special.” His large head shook side to side. “But I think you’ve got something that might. Well . . . special for a human, anyway,” he shrugged. 

Pupil expanded just a bit as he waited for her to make a decision, and when she gave it? It expanded even more in approval. “Heh heh heh. Good decision!” he moved from the backseat to the passenger seat beside her. “Best that it’s just the two of us. If things turn ugly, the Turian can keep the hunt for Saren going. He’s hotheaded enough to see it through.” 

Wrex reached for the door and closed it. “It isn’t common for a Maw to show up during a Rite of Passage ceremony. Our planets full of them, but they’re not always wreaking havoc. So, when one emerged during my trials, I had no choice but to take it down or die. I could have fled, too, I guess, but I’d never have been accepted into any clan. A fate worse than death.” 

Righting himself in his seat once more, he turned an eye to face her. “Took it down with a warhammer and shotgun. Heh! Feast was the biggest one Tuchanka had seen in decades. And no one’s been able to do it since. So . . . you’re in good hands, Shepard. I’ll show you how to kill your nightmares.” Grunting, he nodded ahead of them, “now, let’s go!”

A red eye rolls to the outstretched hand and the weapon within it. “You’ve got to tell me some day where you keep all these weapons stored, Shepard,” he grunted, accepting the weapon. His mood is . . . sour . . . to say the least. Wrex always made it a point never to go somewhere without at least one weapon stored on his person. 

But everyone had insisted that this get-together would be a relaxing event. No bad guys. Just booze. Really, he shouldn’t have been disappointed. A party was never good without a little bit of bloodshed. Kept the blood pumping. 

Having left his armor behind, too, in lieu of something a bit more party-friendly, Wrex also felt considerably naked. The white and black suit he wore looked good, sure, but it wouldn’t do much for protection against bullets. Though he had a sudden thought that there might be a good business venture somewhere there . . . 

Ponderings were quickly interrupted with the next hail-fire of bullets. Letting out a bellow that shook the restaurant, Wrex tore a table from where it was bolted to the ground and tossed it over as cover. The other crew members that had gathered for a bit of shore leave fun also quickly dropped down into cover. 

Shivering as a blue glow encased his form, Wrex popped out from behind the table and shot a blast of biotics towards the charging assassins. They were rolled over like bowling pins. Laughing with battle lust, Wrex tossed Shepard a wink before Charging forward with his biotics and letting loose with the shotgun she had given to him. 

Okay. Now it was a party.