Err, sorta spoilers. As in whether or not the Reapers won.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything pertaining to ME in this story. I do (sadly) own any spelling/grammatical errors. Apologies.

Of all the hundreds of rebuilding complications his advisers had presented Primarch Victus with at the end of the Reaper War, this was not one of them. Spirits, it wasn't even something that has crossed his mind during a nightmare. And yet here he was, sitting across from the galaxy's greatest hero trying to figure out how exactly to tell her that under no circumstances he could come up with, was this committee going to think it was a good idea for her kids to enter into service.

"Problem Primarch?" He flinched. Oh, he really, really didn't mean too, but even without the sub vocal cues that a turian normally would exhibit, Victus could hear the very clear threat in her voice. And no one, not a single person in the galaxy, ever wanted to be threatened by her, even when that person knew that the Commander didn't hate him and that the threat was not even really directed at him.

"Not at all Commander," he said calmly, folding his hands in front of him. It was a lie, they both knew it, but the small smile on the Commander's face meant she was going to let him play his game – and that he was going to lose. Still, the rest of the Turian officials present expected him to lead the fight, or they'd start making his life difficult. So he did. Damn politicians. "But I'm not sure you fully understand the situation here."

"I'll admit that I have occasionally played fast and loose with regards to other specie's cultures, Primarch –" an understatement, if there ever was one. Commander Shepard respected culture until it got in her way. Then it went out the window, usually along with whomever the problem maker was too "- but I am following the law to the letter here."

Spirits, she was enjoying watching him squirm. She could have sent Garrus. The result would have been the same, and at least Vakarian would have been sympathetic about Victus situation. Spirits, who was stupid enough to call for a committee for this anyway?

"Commander," he started, but Shepard held up a hand, indicating she wasn't done talking. Victus sighed and resisted shifting in his seat. Better if the other officials didn't see his annoyance. Damn politicians. As if a committee was needed for this sort of thing. Victus certainly shouldn't have to sit through this – it hardly qualified as a matter of national importance.

"As I was saying," went on the Commander, "I don't see what the problem is. You granted me citizenship, unasked for, when I got married. You publicly acknowledged it. Hell, you fuckers loved it. Commander Shepard, hero of the galaxy, citizen of Palaven. I pay taxes, I help police the borders of Turian space. My husband is a high-ranking General - so also a citizen. So, explain to me why my children aren't being allowed to enter service."

"Commander, this is not as clear cut as you make it. I think you've misunderstood the situation." Tulis, you fool. Victus almost smiled. Shepard did. Both of them knew that Shepard would play nice with Victus, but no chance with the rest of the turians present. She'd been waiting for someone else to speak up. Victus was going to make sure she got a nice big group of pirates to kill after this. Clearly she was getting bored if she had to scare turian officials to have fun.

"General Tulis, was my translator glitching?"

The General frowned. "Why would it?"

"I just thought I'd make sure. Because I had this strange feeling that you were about to tell me that I didn't understand something as simple as 'every citizen from age 15 to 30 serves the state in some capacity', which, if I do recall, is written under section 24, paragraph 3, line 2 of the Turain Citizen Contract. In exactly those words."

"No, I wasn't implying –"

"You weren't? So is it that you don't think my children deserve formal citizenship?"

General Tulis twitched. He had clearly realized that he had worked himself into a corner. Victus resisted chuckling as Tulis' eyes darted to the other three Generals in the room and none of them would meet his eyes. They knew Tulis was in trouble. Still, no turian ever made general without some sort of backbone and stubborness, and Victus could only watch as Tulis took one last stand in his losing battle.

"Commander, with all due respect they aren't really your children." Victus swore the room dropped in temperature as Commander Shepard lost the amused look she'd been wearing all afternoon. Of all the stupid, thoughtless things to be said, that had to rank among the top Victus had ever heard. And as an old and well traveled Turian, Victus had heard a lot.

"General Tulis, I am going to hope for your sake that my translator just glitched. Because you would never be so stupid as to just tell me that my sons and daughters aren't my children."

No one spoke. No one moved. Every eye in the room was locked on Tulis. Victus prayed to the Spirits that Tulis have some sense and not say anything else stupid or Victus would bet all he owned Shepard would shoot him. He might not even stop her considering that last insult.

"Commander," said Victus finally, deciding that he'd let things go far enough, "I apologize for General Tulis' comment."

"Isn't worth shit, Victus, unless it come from his mouth."

Tulis swallowed. Even a stubborn general knew when he was standing in a minefield. "Apologies Commander," the general said slowly.

"Good," she said, settling back in her chair. "Now, I believe you were about to dismiss this entire farce?"

General Tulis gave her a curt nod, and after a beat the other's followed suit. Shepard grinned. "Excellent. Have a good day gentlemen. You can see yourselves out – I want to have a word with the Primarch."

Victus sighed and shook his head, waving a hand at the other officials to let them know that yes, they were dismissed. After the door shut behind the last one, Victus gave Shepard a look.

"What?" she asked, blinking innocently at him.

"You know what. Next time, just send the damn request to me and skip the posturing with the Generals."

Shepard grinned. "Couldn't let them get relaxed. Melinas told me that she had overheard one saying that I had lost my edge at a party last week."

Victus was going to shoot his wife. Or Shepard. Possibly both. "Try not to drag me into your pride battles in the future," he said finally with a sigh.

"I wouldn't want you to get bored," she said with a wicked smile. "You and Melinas still coming to dinner tomorrow?"

Victus sighed again. "I suppose so."

"Excellent," she said getting up and making her way towards the door. She paused with one hand on the handle. "Oh, and just in case the Generals didn't mention it, I requested my kids to be put under your command. Have fun." And with that, Shepard gave him a finger wave and darted through the door before he had a chance to protest.

Spirits. He was wrong, Shepard did hate him.

For not the first time since Commander Shepard, Defender of the Galaxy, Hero of the Reaper Wars, and wife to General Vakarian strolled into his life, Victus pulled out his hidden bottle and got quietly drunk.

Sixteen krogan suffering puberty under his command.

Spirits, he missed the Reapers.

A/N: Written for no reason other than wanting to write something post ME3 ending. And because Victus is awesome. And I probably should stop trying to justify when I've got nothing...:P