I saw her first through the scope of my sniper rifle.

Nearly got me killed. I froze, and though I'll never admit it to her, I got caught staring. At first I just assumed she was a hallucination: I hadn't slept in over a day and I was really starting to feel it, not just in my muscles or the strain behind my eyes, but everywhere. I'd lost my team, lost my way, and the longer I stayed up there shooting down mercs the more I started to think that dying in that little shithole spaceport wouldn't be so bad. Wrex would have called it a good death, damn crazy Krogan. Sad part was, I was starting to agree with him.

So I shot her. Or at least, I shot her shields, just as a test. If she was Shepard, I'd know it immediately; I'd followed her into battle too many times not to know how she looked when she came under fire. Usually not from this angle, though. And as soon as I realized it was her, I really regretted firing that shot. I was going to hear about it later, if I survived that is.

It was in the way she moved. Sure, all Alliance soldiers have the same basic training, and I'm not saying her style was all that unique. Except that it was. Watch a field of soldiers shooting for their lives and typically you will see a bunch of scared little boys, hoping to get a shot off before they get shot themselves. It's about survival. Commander Shepard was different - getting shot just pissed her off. The turian army had a saying that the humans shared, and it defined the Commander: the best defense is a good offense, and Shepard's offense was downright deadly.

What I felt then was hard to explain, and I couldn't explore it much thanks to the mercenaries breathing down my neck. I suppose if you want to be dramatic, you might say it was like seeing a guardian angel. Not in the sentimental way people have of saying things like that in the heat of the moment, but, just when I had grimly accepted that I would probably die in that little building, suddenly the tide shifted. The tide always shifted when she was there. After all, we're talking about a woman who defeated a Reaper with nothing but a hard suit and a little ammo. She was a goddamned legend. Things were looking up.

But it was more than that, even if it didn't register just then. It had been a long time since I had allies. When my squad was killed, all I had left in the world were enemies. I don't mind having enemies, particularly when I know I'm right, but I'd be lying if I said it never got to me, fighting alone for so long. No one to watch my back. I was relieved to see reinforcements, but I was glad to see a friend.

She blew through the mercs like they weren't even there, but that was hardly surprising. We'd faced worse. When she got to me I could tell in the way she stood that she didn't trust me, in that tight, cautious way she has of eying anyone who isn't on her team. I always liked that look, like at any moment she could burst right back into action and you'd be staring at the ceiling before you knew it.

It was different being back on the receiving end of that look after so long behind enemy lines, so to speak. She hadn't aimed it at me since she took me on board the Normandy, and it had been a long time since she had even bothered keeping an eye on me. She had come to trust me. I didn't know how much I valued that trust until I was standing in her presence without it. I suddenly understood what the rest of the galaxy felt when we walked up. That woman was terrifying. I had to suppress a chuckle. It was really good to see her.

I took my sweet time about revealing my identity. Joker would have called it slowrolling. I call it stylish flair. As soon as my helmet was off and I greeted her by name, her face changed.

Humans are always more expressive than other species. Turians hard exoskeleton keeps us from showing too much of ourselves in our features, and I'd always thought the humans were weak for allowing so much emotion in their faces. You could normally read any one of them like a book. In that moment, I was really glad that Shepard was human. I got to see every nuance of her expression as it went from skeptical to surprised, and from surprised to genuinely happy to see me. I think I even saw a fleck of pride thrown in the mix. I guess I wasn't the only one who needed a friend.

I didn't think of two years as a particularly long time anymore, but I guess it was long enough. I remembered her fighting style and the mischief streak only those who were close to her saw (or I doubt I would have tried the tease about my identity.) But I had forgotten the way she looked out for her team, not just now but in the long run. She had her own philosophy about building up her team. If you give a man a fish, he eats for a day. Beat him with it until he learns to fend for himself, and he eats forever. She was quick to ask how I'd let myself get holed up, and I was forced to admit what I wasn't proud of. Thirty seconds in and I was already feeling ashamed of myself. Damn, it was good to see her, but she was still a goddamned hard-ass.

And I might have really let it get to me, if it wasn't for that mischievous side coming right back out when she realized the odds were grim. Shepard didn't just survive harsh situations. She thrived on them. Her bright green eyes sparkled and she smirked with the kind of masochistic enjoyment that defined her in times like these. She didn't like suffering, but she sure as hell liked proving that she could take on anything the galaxy threw at her and come out smiling the other side. Her grin in the face of imminent danger was infectious.

So I told her the truth. "Glad to see you haven't changed."

When she popped the head off a scout with my sniper rifle, I knew I was right.

Then the waves of mercs came. She had never looked so good in combat, and she still had that other quality, too. Ingenuity. I laughed my ass off when that heavy mech turned around and started shooting the mercs instead of us. She was ducked behind a wall with bullets whizzing inches away from her helmet, but she still took the time to turn to me and wink in that sly way of hers. 'Told ya I'd handled it,' she seemed to say, and then she popped back up and started giving the Eclipse hell. I'd forgotten how much fun fighting alongside her could be. Sure took the sting out of getting myself into this mess in the first place.

I told her the truth when the round was done. "You're kicking ass, Shepard." She just tilted her head and smirked, an expression somewhere between 'Thank you' and 'I know.'

Yeah, she was a hard-ass. And a little bit cocky, too. But when the Blood Pack started bursting through the doors downstairs, she reminded me why none of us hated her for it. I told her I'd be fine on my own. If the mercs hadn't taken me out so far, there was no reason to believe they would accomplish it now. But she insisted. Left the big mouth Cerberus guy with me to watch my back. Wasn't the same as if she stayed, but I appreciated it all the same. At least it would give them someone else to aim for. Sometimes that's all it took.

Maybe she's not the only one who's cocky.

Anyway. They started to come through the door. When Garm got there, I got worried. I was cornered, tired, and he was fresh and really angry. But she was there in an instant. I heard her footsteps as soon as I made the call. She took the stairs by twos and threes and treated her shotgun as her cover. Before I knew it she was blazing into the room and Garm never stood a chance.

I didn't see it for myself, but I hear after the gunship took me down she was like a varren in a corner. She was always scary with a grenade launcher. Next thing I know I'm coming to, choking on my own blood. I'd never been so close to death before. Can't say I ever want to be again. I was in and out of consciousness. Nothing really sticks until I woke up in the Normandy with Dr. Chakwas standing over me.

I'm not really sure what all they did to me. Frankly, I didn't stay to find out. I had to get to where she was, let her know I was alright, let her know I was grateful. More than that, I needed to sign on to whatever she had cooking. I had almost died, but I felt better than I had in months. I needed what she had to offer: a mission, a purpose. And now, I had to a debt to repay.

Taylor was surprised to see me. She wasn't. She just crossed her arms over her ribs and smirked at me, as if she'd known all along what Taylor only figured out in that moment. "Tough son of a bitch." She nodded in agreement. I ignored Taylor - nothing personal, but my entrance just proved that he was an outsider to this conversation. At least he had the good sense to let two old friends catch up, and he left soon afterwards. I laughed when she made light of my scars. I appreciated it, at first. It was good to make light of my injuries, and my pride only stung a little when she called me ugly. Well to a turian, she wasn't so good looking, either. Except for the smile.

When the doors closed behind Taylor, I took half a moment to look at her, gauging her. It was usually easier to get information out of her this way. I thought I had a pretty good grasp of what was going on, or at least the basics. I didn't know how she was alive, or what she was doing on Omega, and I sure as hell didn't know why she had come looking for me after all this time. But I did know what mattered in that moment. She wasn't quite comfortable - I could see it in the way she held herself, that old tightness, but not against me. Against the ship. Against Taylor. The AI I'd seen helping Dr. Chakwas in the med bay. Maybe all of the above. I had to ask.

But it didn't come out as a question. It came out more... honestly than I intended. I told her I was worried about her, but she didn't give my worry any weight. She acknowledged it, sure. She could hardly deny it - I know her too well for that. She simply accepted it as valid, and brushed it aside. "That's why I'm glad you're here Garrus. If I'm walking into hell, I want someone I trust by my side."

My dry humor got the better of me. "You do realize this plan has me walking into hell, too?" But the joke fell as quickly as my resistance. "Just like old times." I was nostalgic for good reasons. I hadn't been the same since she died. Ineffectual. Frustrated. And now, broken. Shepard was like the glue that was putting me back together. I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to be whole again, even if it was only for another insane mission. Shepard wasn't just what the Galaxy needed. In that moment, she was what I needed, too.

"I'm fit for duty whenever you need me, Shepard."

She nodded again. And again, it seemed like she'd known it all along.