Palaven. What a mess.
Why the Hierarchy insisted on keeping their acting-capitol on the planet was nothing more than stupidity, especially after the absolute destruction that the planet had undergone during the Reaper War, at least in the opinion of the Turian looking at the broken skyline.
The broken buildings that he was looking at were all that was left of Palaven's second capitol, Ketus, and he could only contemplate how far it had fallen. Before the war, Palaven had been distinguished, confident, its cities defiantly reaching out into the sky. The Human war hero Jon Grissom had said that everything was silver, and he hadn't been far wrong. In nostalgic memory, it had glimmered in the sun. Beautiful.
Today, it was a ruin, the rubble itself seemingly having its own rubble, even so long after the war. The huge Kinetic Barriers that coloured the sky in a pale blue, that used to be ceremonial nods to the Turian's might, were now the only thing that kept them alive, strengthened to hold out the toxic air and dust caused by the merciless Reaper bombardment during the early stages of the war. Every surviving city relied on it, and a handful had been lost completely when their barriers failed, for whatever stupid reason cost hundreds of thousands their lives.
Even Palaven's Capitol, Cipritine, had suffered this way. It had formed the focus of the Reaper attack, and the subsequent defense, meaning that the toxic air was heaviest around it. It remained uninhabitable, little more than destruction and corpses, even so long after the war.
Rebuilding had begun, de-toxification of the air had commenced, but outside of the more affluent areas that the observer found himself in, the effects were minimal, even six years after the war. The damage that Palaven had suffered dwarfed that of the second most devastated planet hit in the war, Earth. Much of the planet was simply disintegrated due to the severity and length of the fighting. It had taken two years just to restore the political and financial centres in order for Palaven to be a political entity again, with the wider restoration of housing and infrastructure endlessly on-going.
In true Turian fashion, they were also desperately trying to rebuild their military along with their infrastructure, slowing the progress of both.
The result was a stagnated rebuilding effort, with the Turians being left behind in terms of re-development by the Humans and the Asari. That said, only the Humans were making real progress, the Asari suffering a political and aid isolation which many saw as retribution for their refusal to share their technology during the war. And of course, the Salarian's seemed to escape massive Reaper damage, slimy as ever.
"Vakarian, are you there?"
Garrus realised he'd been staring out the window and ignoring the Primarch. "Apologies Primarch, I lost myself for a moment."
He was sitting in the office of the Primarch, attempting to find an adequate balance between infrastructure development and military development. The surrounding bored Garrus immensely, reeking of traditional Turian values, value he'd grown to dislike as a young man years ago. It was spartan, military, and focused entirely on giving off the sense of power, which to Garrus reeked of arrogance. Despite Victus once being seen as a wild-card, Garrus thought, he'd soon assimilated into the establishment once he became Primarch.
"Well, I apologise for boring you." Victus said in a sarcastic manner. "I was just asking about your thoughts we separate the budget into 60-40 segments in favour of the military. We are being overtaken by the Humans; people are beginning to talk, saying that we're no longer the military superpower we were."
"Sir, with all due respect," said Garrus, "We need to put as much of our resources as possible into the air-treatment. We risk every life on Palaven as long as we refuse to commit to it. I've said it for months, and I'm going to keep saying it, our military spending should be dialled back massively. It's mad it's so high, no-one's in the state to fight a war and won't be for years. We're hurting Palaven more by doing too little."
Victus got out of his seat, and walked to the window Garrus had been staring out of, looking out in silence for a moment. "I see the state of Palaven, Garrus" he said mournfully. "This view reminds me daily of my duty to every Turian in the Galaxy."
Garrus rolled his eyes. Victus used this ploy on everyone whenever they disagreed with him, trying to guilt them into his view, it was childish. What annoyed Garrus most was it worked, since at the moment most of the Hierarchy was eating out of Victus' hands, and everyone that disagreed seemed to keep themselves quiet.
Sometimes, it felt like he was the only real critic the Primarch had.
Garrus realised he'd lost himself to his thoughts again, and quickly refocused on the conversation, in time to catch the end of Victus' speech. He was sounding triumphant, as if he had just given a rousing speech (in his mind, he probably had) about how Palaven was her military.
"So you see Garrus, we'd only be doing more damage to ourselves, and to Palaven, if we side-line our military" he finished, looking expectantly at Garrus for the change of heart he hoped would occur. He was disappointed to instead see Garrus sitting in his chair with his arms crossed, looking critically at him.
"So you won't drop it down to at least a 50-50 split?" Garrus inquired. He knew he hadn't a hope of getting what Palaven really needed from the Hierarchy, so he had to make do with what he could do, as much as it made him burn with frustration.
"Certainly not, our intelligence reports from within the Alliance shows that they are quite clearly –"
"We're spying on them now? You didn't tell me this!" interrupted Garrus, shock permeating his voice. "Sir, they're allies, not rivals! Spirits, you've worked with them!"
"I've had it on good word from the Generals that-"
"Victus," said Garrus, addressing the Primarch without his title, "You know as well as I do most of those were fighting against Cerberus during the war. Of course they're going to have an anti-human bias. Most of the other Generals are so old I wouldn't trust their advice on how to clean my rifle, let alone policy! Some fought in the fucking First Contact War!"
Anger flared in the eyes of the Primarch for a brief moment, incensed that Garrus had addressed him with no respect for rank. "Vakarian," he said in a condescending voice, "I see you still persist in using human colloquialisms. Those Generals have done nothing but good for our species, and it is their ability to see the wider picture that we have a military at all."
Garrus stood up out of his chair, and pointed a finger accusingly at Victus. "You don't see how stupid you're all being! It's their ability to 'see the bigger picture' that our planet is still mostly rubble. Every other race has their home planet functioning, Victus, at least they're habitable! You listened to them when re-building started, and now they listen to you, and then it reverses. The same lie is being cycled through the Hierarchy!"
He leaned on the desk towards Victus, fury coming out of his mouth. "And to think the Hierarchy used to look down on you. Turns out you're as stupid as the rest of them." He spat out the last line, and instantly regretted it. The Primarch flinched at his words, but against expectations he didn't call for Garrus' arrest, as Garrus expected.
Instead, the Primarch walked back over to his seat, and slowly sank into it, looking at the desk in front of him.
"I think it would be best," he said with a low, quiet voice, "if we continue this discussion tomorrow."
He hit a button on his terminal, and his aide walked into the office, gesturing for Garrus to follow her. Victus didn't seem to register the entry.
She was about the same height as Garrus, and had red colony markings on her face, forming a faint T shape across her eyes. She looked at Garrus with a practiced annoyance, since situations like this seemed all too common whenever Garrus was having a meeting.
"I think that would be best, thank you Primarch." Garrus agreed hastily as he left the room, fearing that Victus would suddenly re-emerge from his funk and demand an arrest. Disrespect to the Primarch was a serious matter, even to the advisors, so Garrus was aware he was on thin ice.
He shut the door with a slam in his haste, Garrus wincing slightly at the sound, quickly moving away.
"You shouldn't aggravate him you know" came a voice, as he found himself being embraced from behind. Garrus allowed himself a smile.
"I'm sorry Juana, but it's what I have to do" he said. He grabbed her arms and spun her round, so that she was facing him. "If only he'd listen to me, but all he does is listen to his precious Generals. Damn wastes of space, all of them."
"You say that every time" she said in a teasing voice. "Maybe just toe the line every now and then. You'd achieve more in his good moods."
"I'd feel like my job was meaningless then", he said as her held her tighter, "and experience has shown me my job isn't totally meaningless. I've got someone to look after now, and I'm not changing that."
She laughed, extracting herself from Garrus' grasp giving him a light push. "That's quite the view of things you have there. You know that I'll have to deal with his anger later right. No doubt I'll have a sudden flurry of work to deal with, and it'll probably be your fault. He knows we're together."
"At least I keep your work-day interesting."
She laughed again as she walked to her desk and sat down at her terminal, quickly looking at her emails.
"And there it is, the stuff that'll probably keep me here till midnight. Garrus Vakarian, I'd punch you right now if I didn't happen to love you!"
"You're so mean, and I'm ok with that" he said, moving towards her as his voice dropped an octave.
She waved him off. "As much as I appreciate the romance," she said, "I seriously have to get this work done, so get out of here! I'll see you later!"
Garrus smiled, and the two moved together, connecting their foreheads in a Turian kiss. He held it for a few moments.
"I love you" he said in a hushed tone.
"Same here," Juana replied as they moved away from each other, "Go make us something nice for tonight, you haven't got anything else to do here."
"And how would you know?" he asked questioningly.
"For all your ex-mercenary skill and prowess, you still set your password as me. Cute, but very easy to guess."
Garrus began to walk towards the exit, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "That's a serious offence you know" he said in the best disapproving tone he could do.
"So arrest me!" she called after him, before both laughed to themselves.
Garrus left into the corridor, and immediately went down the nearest elevator. He felt a lot calmer after talking to Juana, but he still had to think of some way of stopping the Hierarchy's crazy ideas over what 'redevelopment' meant. They were all idiots, and he felt like he was talking to a wall sometimes. He leant back onto the side of the elevator and sighed. Sometimes he hated his job.
The elevator came to a stop, and within minutes he was leaving the building, his mind still thinking about possible solutions. The building opened up onto a street which was clear of the rubble that remained doggedly in some areas of the city, and was bustling with people. Garrus quickly intermingled, feeling comfortable in the masses. If anything, it reminded him of his days as Archangel, where he was able to perfect the art of disappearing into a crowd. He looked back on memories like that rather fondly, being out there and doing stuff rather than being bogged down by bureaucracy.
Who ever thought he'd miss Omega?
"You're getting old Vakarian," he said to himself, "you're thinking like you're an old man."
He was quite self-absorbed until his mind flared an alert. He had seen something.
What had he seen?
There it was again. A glint from a window. He had seen such glints before, and once upon a time it would have been him behind it, since it was the distinct glint that a sniper scope gave off.
Garrus kept walking, so as not to alert the possible sniper, and began to look for ways out. The crowd around him was tick with people, and he knew that even the most amateurish assassin would never risk a shot in a crowd. He was also aware that a sniper looking on a crowd could mean the target was anyone, but as one of the Primarch's closest advisors – on paper at least – Garrus surmised that the sniper could be for him. Although why someone would try and kill him with a sniper who didn't even know how to mask their scope glint was beyond him.
He moved his toward the edge of the crowd, looking for a side-street to duck into, when he became aware of a laser dot on the wall next to him, confirming his fears that the sniper was for him.
"Damn amateur though" he thought. The sniper wasn't trained on him before using it, and instead showed it, however briefly, in front of him. If someone was gunning for him, couldn't they even afford a decent assassin? He felt almost insulted.
The crowd around him began to thin, and Garrus became aware that his protection in the crowd was beginning to wear away. As he thought this, he saw the red spot again, first on the floor in front of him, before quickly moving to his chest.
"Crap!" he cried out, and he dived to his side just as a shot sounded out, and he became aware of a burning pain from his leg. He hit the floor heavily, and quickly looked at his leg. The shot sound was distinctive, clearly coming from a Mantis, and he knew they could be powerful beasts if used properly. Fortunately, his lunge seemed to have been well timed, his leg suffering only a deep, but clean, wound.
When he looked at it, the pain emanating from it increased ten-fold, and he cried out, clutching the wound. Around him, the crowd was running amok, startled and terrified by the sound of the shot, and behind him a woman was groaning, clutching a wound in her side, seemingly hit by the ricochet. He could see some of the Primarch's guards running from the building he'd come from a mere hundred yards behind him, and he was vaguely aware of them treating his wound.
They formed a barrier around him while medi-gel was applied, with one of them also treating the woman behind him, all scanning the buildings for any more attackers. Security forces were moving into the building that the shot had originated from, and within moments he could hear a short exchange.
At least the massive military spending meant that there were military personnel virtually everywhere in these cities, he thought grimly.
"Wound's sealed sir" said the soldier applying the medi-gel to the leader of the squad protecting Garrus, but he was still slipping away into unconsciousness, the pool of blue blood by his leg making evident the extent of his blood loss.
"Get medical here, damn it," he heard, "The Primarch's not going to like this."
The world slowly seemed to become darker to Garrus, before he found himself within a void, his thoughts ceasing. His head fell limp to the ground.
"Is he alright?" shouted the squad-leader to the medic treating Garrus.
"He's fine sir, mostly, he's passed out"
The squad-leader looked up from the unconscious body of Garrus Vakarian, and could see the corpse of the assassin, a Turian wearing civilian clothes, being dragged out of the building, his Mantis rifle being carried by one of the responders. "At least we got the sniper" he said to his men with satisfaction.