-Garrus-
He arrives in the comm room just as an unstable connection is made, the image of Primarch Adrien Victus appearing. At least one good thing in this situation.
"Sir," he greets with a nod, foregoing the salute he can't make without his left arm. "I won't attempt to hide the fact that it's good to see you."
"Save the 'sirs', Garrus." Victus smiles slightly with a friendly hum and Garrus looks him over, noticing the small bit of a tilt in his stance to one side. He must have been injured during the push through the city. "I must admit, I hadn't expected to see you at the end of everything."
"Yeah. I thought I wouldn't make it either."
"On the contrary. It was me that I assumed wouldn't make it," the Primarch says with a chuckle. "You and yours are too stubborn to fall so easily." Stopping to hum in thought, the man looks off before turning back. "I don't know whether it's a good or bad thing I came back from the advance through London."
Garrus frowns at that, thinking that, in fact, it's good that he made it out. Not just for his own personal matters, but for Palaven too. Their people needed someone who was willing to bend the traditional means of thinking for the betterment of their species.
"What exactly happened to you and your squad?"
The man shakes his head with a low growl. "When the Reaper fell, it took down the building we were in. We were trapping under the rubble and didn't even make it to rejoin Hammer for the run to the beam."
"It saved your lives," Garrus assures with a frown. "Most of Hammer was wiped out on by Harbinger."
"Is that how," he stops at that, simply motioning with his chin and Garrus nods.
"I was pinned under a Mako. I didn't even get to go with Jane through the beam and onto the Citadel."
"Which might have saved you life, as well." Victus rumbles and takes a few steps within the sensors of his side of the QEC. "From what I hear, it is close to a miracle that Shepard made it." He nods in agreement as the Primarch silences for a moment before saying, "But I know you didn't contact me to check up on my health or the state of the Hierarchy."
"You're right. While I am glad to see you made it, I don't have the mind right now to care about our people. It just doesn't feel like my priority-"
"As I would expect."
"I'm here to ask for your help," Garrus says, not affected by the interruption. "They're trying to separate my family. I already have to rely on my instincts that my children are safe, but I can't be apart from Jane. She needs me… I need her."
The Primarch nods and hums, crossing his hands behind his back as he takes a more professional, detached appearance. "There has been an arrangement made between all species' that we are all to care for our own in order to allow for each people to focus on tending to their own. The only exception would be for injured too critical to survive the transfer between medical facilities.
"As you can assume, you have been deemed noncritical, so the Alliance is requesting you be transferred off the Berlin and into the care of the Salubris, our closest medical vessel." His next statement may or may not be be due to Garrus' clenched fist, it's hard to tell. "However, if you'd be willing to take on a job, there may be a compromise."
The slight smirk to the man's mandibles piques his interest, straightening his spine he rumbles in question. "I'm interested."
"We need an ambassador of sorts, someone to represent the Hierarchy on the SSV Berlin while the Alliance tends to our soldiers." Victus relaxes and leans against his side of the QEC, injury obviously causing some discomfort. "Although we don't think they'd do it, we want someone aboard to ensure that their reports of necessary supplies and needs to care for our men are correct. You will also need to connect with our doctor on board, Doctor Sadius Tarin, and report back to us your findings on his relationship with the Alliance doctors there. Again, we aren't trying to assume anything, but I'd like to be completely sure that the Alliance is not adhering to the new treaty between the species by offering the bare minimum to our people in their care."
"And I'll be allowed to remain aboard?"
He nods. "While the Alliance sees no priority in your treatment, they cannot prohibit us from having a representative for our people aboard the Berlin. They may not want 'visitors' to their patients, but I doubt this way they can stop you from being with your mate so long as you continue to work for the Hierarchy."
"What of my family? My children?" He growls and adds, with quite a bit of irritation lacing his vocals. "I don't want them anywhere near the Alliance and I don't trust their safety where they are now."
Adrien Victus hums in thought a moment, gauging his words before he speaks. "Normally, I wouldn't expect someone acting on another ship to have a bunk on a turian vessel, but I may be able to give either your sister or your father a position assisting me in keeping communications between yourself and other ambassadors on xeno vessels."
Neither would be qualified but, by the sounds, it almost seems like a simple assistant's position. Maybe, just maybe, his sister could find a way to juggle the information and report efficiently. Not that he doubted her, but, if he knew Solana, she tended to see paperwork and monotonous work in about the same light as he did. Although, perhaps her lack of want to Overload and burn each and every datapad laid out and ready to be filled out might lend well to her acceptance.
Not that he has many doubts that either would accept - he knows them both too well to imagine they'd let a chance to both help their people and their family - but the fact that they'd be so far from him makes him keen sadly. Safe, but so far away.
"Garrus," Victus says with a knowing, sympathetic rumble. "I know this is hard, but it's the safest option for them. They would be safe aboard the Indomitable."
"Not to refuse your offer, but they won't be entirely safe unless they are right here with us. Our experiences have already proven that."
In an instant, the man turns from Primarch to a man that Garrus might even call a friend with a simple question. "What about the Normandy?"
"This is the first time either of us have had comm access. I don't even know the state or location of the Normandy."
"The Normandy is on Earth, her crew tending to the rebuilding of Earth."
"So, under Alliance control."
Adrien sighs and nods. "It would seem so."
Humming in thought, a slight anger under his vocals, Garrus thinks of his only other option. "What of a turian refugee camp? It's not my first choice, by any means, but they can blend in, they can hide in somewhat plain sight. No one would immediately recognize them as my family unless they say it."
"There is a camp of refugees working to rebuild London in return for housing arrangements in Alliance provided prefabs," the older turian says. "It may not be ideal and I can't offer that it won't be a grueling job for your family, but they may gain a sense of privacy that they might not gain at a normal refugee camp."
Knowing this is the best option, even if not what he'd have taken in a perfect life, Garrus nods. "I'll find a way to contact them. Is there anything else, sir?"
Back to business and professionalism, Victus hums in remembrance. "No, Praetor. I will make sure the captain of the Salubris ensures your position on the Berlin is acknowledged." Holographically projected eyes lift to his. "Know that this only extends until our men are no longer under Alliance care."
"By then, Jane and I will be gone."
He doesn't bother to pretend he will stay on through the service, the duty he should feel obligated to perform for his people. Tired of serving for his people, he holds no illusions that he will remain under the Hierarchy's control once they are completely able to use their new limbs.
The Primarch doesn't seem all too surprised by that and, if he doesn't approve, he doesn't say anything besides, "We could always use a leader like you to rebuild, Garrus."
He doesn't hesitate in his head shake, a determined growl in his voice as he says, "I am done with this galaxy, Primarch. It's time my wife and I take our children and live."
"A shame, but I know all too well the other life."
There is no question that the man does. It only took a look between he and his son to know what effects a life buried in work and duty did to a personal relationship, and it could only get worse in a galaxy strife with rebuilding efforts after the war.
It's why Garrus will fight talon and teeth not to be dragged into that, into a life he both didn't expect or want.
"I wish you well, Garrus," Adrien pulls him from his thoughts. "Now go be seen by Doctor Tarin and get yourself cleared for duty."
He nods in the best of a salute he can offer as the comm channel closes. There is only one chance he has to stay with his mate, to leave his children, and he struggles with the decision. Will they be safe if he's gone? Will she?
"Damn it…"
"Sir?" A communications tech stands at the threshold of the ship's comm room. "Would you like to make any further communications?"
"Get me the Normandy."
The man nods and moves to the terminal, tapping some comms as the QEC flares to bright life. "Comm-ing the Normandy, please report. I repeat. Communications request for the Normandy."
"This is Comm Specialist Traynor for the Normandy."
"Normandy, this is the SSV Berlin. Praetor Vakarian is aboard and requesting communications."
"Garrus? - I mean. Yes, we'll accept the communications. Connecting." A very distorted image that he barely recognizes as the Specialist appears. "I'm afraid most of the Normandy's crew is off-ship. Since we're docked, it's nothing but a repair and engineering crew."
The tech looks to him in 'is this okay' and he nods. "Thank you," he says to the man with a curt nod and receives a salute before being left alone. "Traynor." Stepping forward, he assumes she can't see him because she hasn't, predictably, remarked on his condition.
"Garrus? Wow, you have no idea how happy I am and the others will be to hear you are alive… Is…"
"Jane is alive too. We're injured, but alive." Not willing to explain, he adds before she can ask about their injuries. "I'm more interested in the crew. Has the Normandy heard anything about Hammer?"
"We haven't had complete reports on everyone, but those who have managed to return contact I would dare say would be wanting to see you both."
As he suspected. Still, they are all a very close approximation of family so he doesn't see any fault in it. However, he's sure the Alliance would.
"I'm sure Jane would agree that it'd be good to see the others, but things on the Berlin are less than ideal for the chance to have visitation." He sighs and leans against the terminal, hand beside the terminal's keys once again dwarfing those meant for human hands. Oh, how he remembers the difficulty in calibrating the cannons using the human made terminals with his larger fingers.
"Oh. Well…"
"I need you to assure the crew of our survival." Get Liara's attention at our predicament and, just maybe, she'll be of help. "I don't expect Jane and I to stay here long and we might need some help blending into the shadows," he says with a chuckle.
Her amused chuckle is barely more than static feedback, but he understands it all the same when she adds, "Aye, aye… And, Garrus? We knew you two wouldn't be knocked down so easily."
"Knocked down, maybe, but you should see how the other guys came out."
He closes the call with confidence that he has done Jane good in checking up as best he can with a crew that is as scattered as possible on a small planet like Earth. He knows they will begin to come back together now that the word of their gravity force gets around, he surprised if they don't already know of her survival, but their reunions will have to wait until they manage a way off this damn ship. Perhaps, when the time comes, they could employ their help.
Leave it to them to need an entire ship of armed soldiers to get away from a ship full of doctors.
His next stop is the small office of the Hierarchy's only on-board doctor. Knocking on the door, he is emitted with a low, almost inaudible 'enter'.
The man is, simply put, old, definitely older than his own father with his extensively cracked from age facial plates, but there is something that strikes Garrus as strong, assured in his place as the doctor entrusted with the men on this ship. It's that high-held confidence that the man radiates that has Garrus giving a low nod in respectful greeting, figuring it wouldn't hurt to be on the man's good side.
"Praetor Garrus Vakarian, I presume?" The man's voice is low, almost confused for soft, but Garrus feels the rumbling vocals and sees the straight-edged stance that speak of him being anything but. To him, this man feels like military, through and through.
"We don't have to go by titles, Doctor Tarin."
"Oh, but we do when said Praetor was part of the moving force in this war. You've earned that respect." So definitely military, but it's been years if his age is any sign. Perhaps a reserve medic?
His inner observations are interrupted with the man waves a hand to enter his small bunk that functions as the only office he possesses on the Berlin. "Please, come so I can examine you. While I trust human doctors in their respective fields, I don't see too many Alliance doctors who specialize in turian care."
"I was actually treated off-ship."
Doctor Tarin hums and nods, motioning the IV. "Mind if I remove it? I don't think it'll help much beyond getting you slowly addicted."
"By all means," he says with a nod. "I actually supposed it should be removed anyways." At the man's raised brow plate, he adds, "The Primarch would like me to be your patients' ambassador with the Alliance."
"I see. Well, while I don't see a need for it and figure your job will be quite uneventful here after the amount of aid I've already been given by the other doctors, I understand you are probably here for an ulterior reason."
Garrus doesn't flinch at the pointed look and, instead, nods. "It's no secret that my wife is here and I don't trust her being alone without the Alliance trying to find a way to abuse their former power over her."
"You do understand that this means your wounds will have to be treated without narcotics, correct? While I will make sure you are on a prescription of antibiotics to ensure you do not succumb to infection while the implant heals, you cannot be on anything that will impair your ability to work." The man tosses aside the used IV line and turns off the machine controlling the pain medication.
"I've actually gone through worse, Doctor." Garrus motions his face. "I was back to active duty within days after this and cybernetics implanted in my shoulder. If it means moving faster through this healing process, I'd do anything."
"So I assumed," Tarin says with a hum as he runs gently fingers around and over the incisions in his left shoulder, testing where they just recently installed the outlet for his new arm. "I'm actually surprised you're already up after having surgery only yesterday."
He trills in surprise at that and looks at the doctor. "A day?"
The man nods with a rumble as he opens his Omni-Tool and types in some notes. "The sedative used in the Blue Suns' camp was a very strong one. I assume that they tend to use a universal one to better treat all of their men, but it has the side effect of leaving you nearly in a coma while it works out of your system."
That's how they managed to move us from the camp without us even waking up, he thinks with a growl as Doctor Tarin runs a scan over him.
"Everything seems to be on track with what I'd expect of your healing, Praetor," Tarin says as he closes his Tool. "I'll request your limb from the doctors here so that we can begin physical therapy as soon as you're healed enough for the weight."
"When will that be? I'm running a bet with my wife of who will get to wear theirs first."
The man actually chuckles at that and hums in thought. "I see your recovery to actually be a short one. Your body is still strong after all this time you must have been bed-ridden between now and the war."
He was actually surprised at that, thinking quite the opposite now that the loss of muscle tone is making his back hurt. Still, if the doctor says he is in a state to start rehabilitation as soon as he heals, then he won't argue, doesn't want to argue. Besides, once he gets to where he can actually work with his new limb, his back won't be much of a problem as he'll be in an even better condition than he was during the war. Of that, he's sure.