The Citadel was abuzz with the news and gossip. It wasn't often that not just one, not even two, but many of the greatest names in recent history decided to make a stop on the space station that served as the center of the galaxy. Of course, it wasn't the original Citadel…during the great Reaper War, the original had been destroyed. But they'd rebuilt it once all was said and done. And, of course, they'd made it better. No use in making a completely replicated Citadel when a new, shiny one could hold twice as many shops, hotels, and other such entertainment.

There were multiple reasons for the heroes' visit, but the main one was a celebration (or, more like, a memorial) being held for the thirtieth anniversary of the Reapers' defeat. There was one held every year, but the group that had made it happen rarely all attended at once. Already people had gathered to stare with awe at the first arrivals. Urdnot Wrex and Urdnot Grunt, Tali'Zorrah vas Normandy (also called vas Rannoch, but the other, older name had become a symbol of pride), Liara T'Soni. All were greeted with great respect and ceremony, escorted to wherever they had been slated to stay…most probably the grandest apartments the Citadel could afford to spare.

Of course, they were the last to arrive.

They always made it a point to be fashionably late…after all, you couldn't bind the savior of the galaxy by things like time. A hush filled the docks as the two stepped out of an elite cruiser, their steps echoing through the silence. Retired Primarch Garrus Vakarian looked very much the way he had thirty years ago, with the addition of quite a few scars and an added air of superiority that came from his former position as the top Turian of the Hierarchy. It would take a very close look to tell that he'd even aged since that time long ago…Turians rarely seemed to show any physical signs of aging, at least to non-Turians. He turned his head and his mandibles flared a little in a small smile, as the rest of the crowd followed his gaze to the one person they'd all been waiting desperately to see.

She held herself just as proud and rigid as she had all those years ago. Before the Reaper War, before her death, before Saren, before anyone even knew her name. Now everyone knew who she was by sight now, but at least everyone had heard her name, if only in whispers. She looked stern, her red hair dulled from age and up in a severe bun on top of her head. Her scars stood out more against her skin, a bit more drawn tan others of her age, but still showing the lines that proclaimed that she wasn't young anymore. She was standing ramrod straight, stance complementing the very formal uniform of an Admiral attending a very important event (Specter or not, one didn't defeat the greatest of the galaxy's threats without gaining a few hefty promotions within the Alliance).

The only thing that may have seemed out of place, that indicated any sort of weakness, was the cane she used on her left. Her leg hadn't fared well in the aftermath of the attack, and though augmented and basically saved by cybernetics, it was never able to revive full function, and so she walked with just the slightest of limps. People knew, though, that if anything, it made her more dangerous. Anybody who underestimated the great Shepard tended to die a fast death. Plus, it was rumored that the cane was a weapon itself, which seemed to be well suited to the former Commander.

Shepard gave Garrus what looked like a playful smirk back and followed him off the cruiser, waving off a couple of C-Sec agents that had been sent as body guards. Garrus took up his place by her side and gave a quiet chuckle as they made their way past the flustered would-be guards, confused on whether to follow their captain's orders, or those of Shepard.

"Just like old times, eh Shepard?"

She turned to give him a look that was a mix between exasperation and amusement. She was concentrating on not looking into the crowds…if she did, they'd take it as an invitation to swarm, and not even a hoard of Husks held a candle to how scary that was.

"Yes, Garrus, exactly like old times, when everyone loved us and totally believed us when we told them that some bad she was about to go down." she stated dryly, rolling her eyes.

Her companion barked a laugh and shook his head, mandibles twitching in his mirth.

It wasn't a very long walk to the awaiting skycar, the chauffer opening up the door to the back for them. Shepard whistled appreciatively as she slid in.

"They really are rolling out the fancy stuff tonight. This model isn't even on the market yet."

She obviously relaxed once the door was closed, the tinted windows hiding the crowd's stares…relaxed enough to give him a wide-eyed stare that Garrus knew well.

"Oh no, Shepard. No more skycars. Remember the last two you crashed? Both in the last month?"

Shepard huffed, moving her cane and crossing her arms.

"Those mountains came out of nowhere."

Garrus just shook his head and patted her thigh.

"Sure they did. Just like when that Thresher Maw suddenly appeared in front of the Mako, right?"

She smirked, capturing his hand with hers, keeping it where it was.

"Yep. Exactly like that."