A/N – Hello. As a sign of good faith that I will actually write and complete a third edition of this saga, I'm uploading 11 chapters in rather quick succession – 10 prologue chapters, just like 'Collectors', and the first chapter. After that, things will go quiet for a while as I find my mojo for writing Mass Effect again.
If some of these early chapters look familiar, it's because they are the same, though with a little editing. However, one chapter has been changed a bit, while another has been changed entirely.
And if you're wondering about the change of name for the story, I think it's best if the previous version was just forgotten. Another reason. 'Search for Saren' is named for a movie (Star Trek III: The Search for Spock), 'Hunters and Collectors' was named after a band, so 'Don't Fear the Reapers' is named after a song (by the Blue Oyster Cult).
I will explain a bit more before the first chapter.
Six months to the arrival…
Garrus could never admit it publicly, and he would never admit it to either of them, but he missed Chloe far more than he missed Shepard. He was sure Shepard would understand. He had Tali after all. And while he could shoot the shit with his friend, cracking numerous jokes, usually in bad taste, there were things about being with Chloe that made her the obvious choice.
Those few weeks he had spent with Chloe, first on Earth, where they had visited Paris then travelled the French countryside, before she had returned to Palaven with him, had been the best of his life. And it was during her stay on Palaven one night, as they lay in bed together after doing thing couples do, that he finally bared his heart about what happened on Omega.
She said she loved him even more after pouring it all out. She understood he had been trying to bring justice and peace to an unruly part of the galaxy. She understood why he had carried those lives on his conscience, and could even understand why he couldn't tell her. She had already forgiven him for leaving her after Shepard had disappeared, but now understood even more why he had chosen to disappear too.
Turians didn't cry. Garrus certainly didn't cry. But the day she left, it had crushed him. But they had work to do. She had to return to the Citadel and return to her job. And she knew what he had to do.
He had a galaxy to help try and survive.
He had always believed his friend. There was no doubting the evidence. He hadn't been there during the beacon mission. But he remembered Saren, clearly indoctrinated by an outside influence. He was there when they spoke to Sovereign, who was definitely not a geth ship. He was there during the battle of the Citadel as it took as an entire fleet to take down one ship.
He knew that victory had bought them time. Time wasted by the Council as they covered it all up. Time the Council spent destroying the reputation of his friend, verging on calling him delusional. Many thought he was delusional like him, in that he fervently believed the threat was just as real. The entire crew of the Normandy had believed. All had been witness to the evidence. But they were not believed.
Then there was his return. The mission against the Collectors. More evidence was collected. This time it was concrete. The Reapers were real. The Collectors were their agents. Then there was Bahak. They had prevented the invasion but he knew time was limited. Now the Council believed. Now governments of the galaxy believed. But he knew it was probably too late. But he'd do what he could.
First there was trying to convince his father. They had not spoken immediately on his return home, as there was the introduction of his girlfriend and simply time to spend relaxing, having spent so long on mission with his friend. Now that she had return to the Citadel, he knew he had work to do.
He was now sat across the desk from his father. He had submitted everything for him to read, all the evidence he had gathered since those early days back on the Citadel, everything he had found with Shepard, everything they had gathered during their missions together. The evidence, he thought, was indisputable.
The Reapers were coming.
His father had been quiet for some time. He was not worried, knowing his father was methodical in his thought process. He wasn't sure if his father would actually believe it all. But if he could get through to him, then perhaps something could be done. Figuratively, at least, he had his fingers crossed.
Eventually his father cleared his throat and met his eyes. "It is certainly convincing, Garrus."
"We've presented the same evidence to the Council. I believe Shepard has also presented it to the Alliance."
"What did the Council say?"
He shrugged. "They stated they believed him. But there's believing him, and then there's starting to do something about it. I'll be honest. I think they're far happier keeping their heads in the sand."
His father nodded. "An understandable reaction, though. The three of them have a tremendous responsibility. To believe such a threat… which, to an extent, is unbelievable, would require them putting the entire galaxy on a war footing. I can understand their hesitation."
"The Alliance believe it, though."
"I'm aware."
"And what are we doing?"
"I believe there is an understanding that we'll start to expand the fleets. But, without knowing the extent of the threat, what else can we do? When do these Reapers arrive? How many would there be? How would we defeat them? Those are just starter questions. But…" Garrus looked up and at his father, almost willing him to... "I believe you, son. You wouldn't have come to me with all this without being absolute sure yourself." He couldn't help the sigh of relief that he expelled upon hearing those words. "Don't get your hopes up yet. While I believe you, it will still take some convincing of the powers that be. Give me some time. I'll make some calls. Present the evidence."
"Who will you present it to?"
"Primarch Fedorian."
He wished he had his trusty rifle with him. Not because he was getting ready to go into battle. He wouldn't require a rifle for what was to come next. But he always felt better with a rifle in his hands. It was type of security blanket. If not a rifle, then he wished Shepard was with him. His friend was always better with words than he was. Shepard could talk his way out of a building choc-full of the enemy. He had a real gift of the gab, as he'd say himself. Garrus was a confident man. But he preferred action over words.
And he knew Shepard would be far more convincing in what was to come next. Garrus was a believer, just as much as Shepard, Tali or anyone else. But he knew Shepard would make a far more convincing argument. He had almost convinced the Council completely, though he knew there were still doubts. He knew the Alliance were convinced, at least to a point where they were building the fleets. But the most important factor were his friends. Everyone who had served with Shepard, from his ground team to the crew of the Normandy, all were believers in Shepard. In what he had seen.
The Reapers were coming.
The door to his left opened, rising to his feet. "The Primarch is ready for you now," stated the Primarch's assistant.
With a nod, Garrus walked into a large office. Like all turian buildings, offices and even homes, it was sparsely furnished. Functional more than anything. He always wondered why such grand rooms were built and then filled with few furnishings. A large desk was in front of him. On the wall behind, one or two certificates and mementoes, but little of the man he was about to meet. Sat behind the desk was the Primarch. Opposite him was his father, who turned as he entered the room, returning his glance with a brief nod. Garrus tried to read his face, but his father was giving nothing away.
"Take a seat, Garrus," the Primarch ordered. The tone was friendly, but an order was an order.
"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Primarch."
"Your father asked if I could speak to you. He's an old friend, and I must admit I was intrigued. I have heard of this Reaper threat, and while I was not prepared to take it seriously, your father has convinced me to listen to your case."
"My son is a good man, Primarch. And I know he would not have come to me unless he was absolutely convinced himself."
The Primarch nodded before turning all his attention to Garrus. "Well, before we being, as I understand we may be here a while, can I get you anything?"
"No, sir. I'm ready to begin."
"Very well, start from the top and we'll go from there."
"Do you mind if I stand as I present the evidence, sir?"
"Do whatever makes you comfortable, Garrus. The only thing you need to do is convince me. Do that, then we can talk."
So Garrus got to his feet and explained everything that had happened in the past three years, from the first day he met Shepard on the Citadel, to his recruitment on the Normandy, their chase of Saren, the missions on Feros, Therum, Noveria and Virmire before their journey to Ilos and their final confrontation on the Citadel. Then he explained how Shepard was lost and how he, too, was lost as he fought a hopeless crusade on Omega. Then he spoke of Shepard's return, their battle against the Collectors, the evidence they gathered, their journey through the Omega Four, the 'Human Reaper' they found, the discovery the Collectors were agents of the Reapers.
Finally, there was Bahak. And the final, absolute, concrete proof.
He lost track of how long he spoke for. Definitely a couple of hours. His throat dry, he finally sat down, glancing at his father who returned an approving nod of the head. He turned his attention to the Primarch, who gave nothing away, sitting in silent for what felt like hours in itself. Finally, the Primarch leant forward, folding his arms on his desk.
"A solid argument, Garrus."
"Thank you, sir."
"I have one question. When do you think they'll arrive?"
Garrus knew he had to be honest. "I don't know, sir. We delayed them by destroying Bahak. According to Shepard, that meant the Reapers would have to travel to the next available mass relay. No-one can be sure how long that may take. It's bought us at least a few months, considering they haven't arrived yet."
"Do we know their numbers? Their tactics? How we can defeat them?"
"All I know is that it took an entire Alliance fleet to defeat one Reaper. How many numbers make up their main fleet? I can't be sure. All I know is that there have been thousands of cycles. Each cycle could have seen anywhere from one to a dozen races annihilated. Each of those becomes a Reaper in itself. At least, that's what we think. No-one can know for sure."
"So there could be thousands, if not millions of these things out there, waiting to invade?"
"It's possible, sir."
"Spirits," the Primarch whispered to himself.
"We need to do something," his father stated.
The Primarch just nodded his head. "I understand, but this is a major decision that could result in a major policy shift of our entire armed forces. While we are building the fleets, that can be covered with the argument that we are simply replacing older ships. To expand rapidly would require explanation. Not just to our own people, but the Council and in particular the humans."
"The Alliance would understand, sir. They are expanding, too," Garrus explained.
"But no doubt using the same argument."
Garrus nodded, understanding the argument. "What do you propose, sir?"
"Give me 72 hours to discuss this with the other Primarch's. I will present the evidence and the same arguments. They will take some convincing but I will do my best to ensure something is done."
Again he had to hold back the sigh of relief that something may finally be done. "You have my thanks, Primarch."
"Don't thank me yet. But I'll ensure you are put in charge of whatever is to be done. Well done, Garrus."
His father lay a hand on his shoulder, his face beaming with pride.
He was sitting in his father's office as the two chatted casually about previous missions they had undertaken for C-Sec. He couldn't remember the last time his relationship with his father had been so easy. He'd never admit it, but he had missed his presence in his life. Their conversation was interrupted by a call.
A call that could change everything.
When the call was over, his father looked at him expectantly. "Well?" he asked.
"They believed me. They actually believed me. But…"
"But?"
"They can't agree on the right course of action. But they have agreed on one thing, at least."
"What is that?" his father asked expectantly, if not eagerly.
"My own command."
His father got to his feet and walked around the table. Garrus got to his own as his father approached. His father held out his right hand. He reciprocated the gesture as his father lay his other hand on his shoulder. "Well done, son. Well done. When do you go?"
"I leave tonight."
Reason One for a future edit of PM, PK. The Garrus & Chloe romance. Having been in development since 'Saren', and continuing through 'Collectors', SPOILER ALERT, it will continue through this story, therefore PM, PK will need changing, as Chloe never appeared in the original version.
