"Garrus."

"Garrus!"

"Garrus!"

The young turian shot upright, scared by the tone in his mother's voice. "What?"

"You need to get ready," his mother, Vestia, replied, holding up some clothes for him.

"It's not even seven," Garrus moaned, glancing at the clock. "Five more minutes, please?"

"It's market day – you know you can't be late," Vestia insisted. "Up. Come on."

Garrus was just climbing out of bed when there was a sharp bang at their door. The slot in the door slid open, revealing a double set of eyes. Their visitor snarled, "You better be ready on time, you vermin. Shuttle in five minutes."

The slot slammed loud enough to wake Garrus's baby sister, Solana, who started wailing. Vestia sighed, handing Garrus his clothes. "Come on, love. Get dressed. Shh, Solana…it's okay."

Garrus couldn't help but notice the trembling in his mother's vocals as she cooed at Solana, how she barely kept down the hacking coughs that had been plaguing her more and more. Someday, he vowed, he'd get them out of this, give them a real home and see his mother smile again. He'd make his father proud.

"Garrus! Hurry!" Vestia's voice broke through his thoughts and he had to scramble to get dressed and sprint to the shuttle.

His visitor from earlier was waiting impatiently for him. Garrus hated the batarians that crewed the ship, but he hated the overseer especially. He'd had it out for Garrus from the beginning, for whatever reason, and that had done little to warm Garrus to him. They treated Garrus like it was his fault no one ever wanted him, but it wasn't his fault that he was so much younger and smaller than the other turians.

"You're late," the overseer snarled.

Bite me, Garrus thought, but instead he said, "My sister was crying. My mom needed help."

The overseer responded with a harsh slap. "Does it look like I care? Get on the shuttle."

For just a moment, he wished his mother were there to comfort him, before he caught himself. No, he was glad she was going to stay safe and sound on the ship, and not headed off to a slave market on some planet or another. She'd only gone to one market day before the batarians realized her rattling cough and Solana's incessant cries scared off potential buyers – now Garrus was the only Vakarian carted off to markets.

The shuttle rides always scared Garrus, even if the turian pride his father had instilled in him prevented him from ever admitting it. The atmosphere on the ship was overwhelming, almost palpable.

Despair.

Garrus glanced from turian to turian for reassurance, but they all hardly looked alive. Their eyes were all glassy and hopeless; their shoulders had lost their proud warriors' posture in favor of defeated slumps. He felt like he was sitting in a cemetery.

The shuttle landed with more of a crash and moan than the gentle hiss of all the ships docking around them. Garrus was one of the last to disembark, practically shoved out the door by the overseer.

This planet was pretty, Garrus thought, as he followed the procession to the marketplace. There were lush green trees everywhere, and somewhere off in the distance were massive snow-capped mountains. This wouldn't be a bad place to stay in his book.

Not that he'd get sold. He never garnered so much as a second glance, if he even got a first one. Garrus was by far the youngest turian they bothered sending to the slave markets, and he was much too little for anyone to spend money on him.

Thus, he had to stand around for hours, knowing he didn't stand a chance, when he could be back on the ship helping his mother take care of Solana. This market in particular was tiny, hardly more than a semicircle of tents. The planet had clearly just been colonized, and that meant he had even less of a chance than usual.

Garrus hated being the runt of the litter. He'd always been the biggest among his friends, but that didn't mean much when surrounded by turians three times his age. At least he was one of the smartest, he knew that much. The overseer had nearly strangled him when he caught Garrus hacking into the ship's computer to try to get more food for his mother.

There wasn't much to do in the market besides stand there, so Garrus tried to get a good look at his surroundings. It had been a game he always played with his father, trying to see who could notice the most unusual details about the place they were in. Garrus's father, Titus, had always been so good at it. Maybe being a sniper did that, gave you eagle eyes.

Garrus tried to channel his father's eagle eyes as he looked around, but instead his ears picked up on something unusual. A quiet female voice was saying, "Joe, are you sure about this? This…doesn't seem right to me."

"If we try to get the farm set up without any help, it'll be years before we make any money. We need to do this," a male voice insisted.

The woman sighed. "…Okay. Let's just pick one that'll be good with domestic stuff too, okay?"

"Fair enough," the man replied.

The couple came into Garrus's field of vision as they continued debating. The woman was fair and slender, with a shock of red hair – she reminded Garrus of a candle. She was fidgeting nervously as they walked along the line of turians, twisting a ring on her left hand and twirling her hair around her finger. The man was a giant, sturdily built with a huge chest and powerful muscles. He didn't look cruel, but he was certainly far more intimidating than the woman he was with.

"Oh, God. Joe, they have a little one," the woman practically wailed when she saw Garrus.

"Hannah, this isn't a pet shop," Joe brushed her off. "We're looking for a turian to help on the farm now, not one who can help on the farm in ten years."

"Joe, look at him! He's so little. He shouldn't have to grow up like this," Hannah insisted.

"He's a slave, Han. He's going to grow up like this whether he's in a home or on a slave ship," Joe scowled.

Garrus's stomach twisted as he realized Joe was right. He was so eager to get off the ship and escape the batarians. But was being a slave for some human family any better? Could it be even worse? He had somehow convinced himself that once he was sold, everything would be better. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"…What if we got him to help take care of Janie, and then we could work on the farm together?" Hannah offered.

"He's smaller than her! She'd be taking care of him!" Joe protested.

Garrus couldn't help himself. There was something motherly in Hannah's demeanor that reminded him of his own mother. He blurted out, "I take care of my little sister!"

"What?" Joe asked.

Well, now he was in too far to stop. "I have a baby sister. I help my mom take care of her. I…I could take care of somebody."

"See?" Hannah scowled at Joe. "I think it's a good arrangement."

"Damn it, Hannah," Joe sighed. "Are you good for anything else, little guy? Farming? Fixing things?"

"I…" Garrus stopped. He'd never really done any of that. "I…like calibrating computers…and stuff."

"Yeah, no," Joe shook his head. "Moving on, Han."

"Please," Garrus practically whimpered. He didn't know what it was about these people, but there was something in him desperate to go with them. Something told him that things would end up okay if he could convince them to take him.

"You know the rules about talking, runt!" It was the overseer who had just walked by. Garrus flinched, not even needing to see the batarian to know he was raising his pistol to hit him.

"Stop," Hannah's voice was suddenly cold and commanding.

Garrus opened his eyes to find both Joe and the overseer staring at Hannah in surprise. The batarian demanded, "What?"

"He's ours. Don't touch him," Hannah snapped back.

"For fuck's sake…" Joe sighed, aggravated. "Hannah…"

"You heard me," Hannah said. She turned back to the overseer. "How much?"

The batarian tossed a disgusted glance at Garrus. "…Ten thousand."

Both humans recoiled, along with Garrus. There was no way he was worth that much. The overseer was playing games with them, trying to get them to back down, or something.

Hannah glared at Joe, who was ready to say no until he caved. "Fine. Done. I'll transfer it."

The batarian pulled up his omni-tool, waited until the credits transferred, and then promptly shoved Garrus at the humans. "All yours. Good riddance."

"Wait," Joe said. "He said he had a family. Let him say goodbye."

The overseer glared at him, but the big man was as unwilling to back down as his wife was. After a long stare-down, the batarian dragged Garrus back to the shuttle.

For once in Garrus's life, a shuttle ride wasn't full of despair. There was apprehension, definitely, and sadness too. He wasn't letting himself think about how this was going to be the last time he ever saw his mother or Solana. No, he definitely wasn't thinking about that. He was excited, thrilled to finally be off the slave ship and be free of the batarians and getting to live on that beautiful planet. Definitely…he was definitely excited.

Garrus was a horrible liar, and he knew it.

Vestia looked concerned when Garrus walked into the kitchen, where she was hard at work making the crew's lunch. "Garrus? You're back early. Is everything okay?"

"I…got sold. I'm going to be taking care of a human girl," Garrus replied. Solana, cradled in one of her mother's arms, started crying again.

Vestia's mandibles flared in a sad smile. "I'm proud of you, sweetie. You'll be wonderful. The people who have you now are lucky."

"I don't want to go," Garrus said pitifully. "I want to stay with you and Solana."

"I know, love. And I want to keep you with me forever. But this will be so much better for you," Vestia replied, hugging her son close. "I know this is hard, but you're strong. If anyone can make it through this, it's you."

Garrus nodded weakly. He pressed his forehead to his mother's, hoping it said 'I love you' in all the ways his vocals ere utterly failing him.

They stayed that way for a moment before Vestia said, "I have something for you, Garrus."

The pain in her subvocals caught Garrus's attention. "What?"

She pulled something out of her pocket and pressed it into Garrus's hands. He opened his hands and looked at it. "Dogtags?"

"Those are your father's. Keep them, and remember your family," Vestia replied.

"Are you sure you want me to have them?" Garrus asked weakly. "They're all you have of Dad."

"Yes, my love," Vestia pressed her forehead to her son's, closing his hands back around the tags. "If you're ever feeling lonely or scared, just remember that your family loves you so much."

Garrus nodded, putting the dogtags around his neck. He opened his mouth to speak when the door slammed open. The overseer snarled, "You've had long enough. Time to get back to your masters."

The little turian let out an undignified wail as the batarian threw him over his shoulder and started to walk away. The last thing he saw of his mother was the sad smile that she wore so often, accompanied by a single tear sliding down her cheek.

Garrus had thought he knew what despair felt like when he had ridden the shuttles before. That was nothing compared to the chest-crushing emptiness he felt now, staring helplessly at the ship that held what was left of his family as it shrunk into the distance.

For a brief, shining moment, he had thought that Hannah and Joe could be the best things that had happened to him, finally freeing him from the ship and the overseer.

He had been an idiot. They weren't the best things to happen to him.

No, they were definitely the worst things to ever, ever happen to him.