[A|N]: Big thanks to SergiusTheGreat for beta reading for me, and a big thanks to everyone willing to read and review. I will also be attempting to increase chapter length quite a bit more starting with Chapter 8.

the present …

"Pain can be controlled recruit! You just have to disconnect it!" A voiced yelled at the young man who writhed in pain on the ground from the compound fracture of his arm, a portion of his exposed bicep hanging limply, soaking the sweat covered mat in blood.

"And you, Shepard! Did I tell you to stop!" the man of authority yelled, spitting the words as a fast as he could think of them.

"No sir!" He yelled as a reflex, slowly eyeing his squad-mate that was being lead to the infirmary by one of the medics on duty for incidences just like this, a common occurrence at this level of training.

"You think your little show of mercy will stop your enemy from killing you when they have the chance?"

"No sir!" he yelled again and again till his voice was hoarse, darkness suddenly enveloped him, the images of the instructor fading way.

"Help Shepard! Help Us!" A barely audible scream came out of the void, surrounded by the roar of a Thresher Maw, the remains of Alliance soldiers scattered about in macabre tapestry of blood and death.

Running with all his strength, the screams distanced themselves from him while repeatedly calling his name before being silenced. Falling to his hands and knees in defeat, he gasped for breath, each intake filled with foulness from his comrades' remains. Feeling wetness on the ground, he raised his hands only to see two cybernetic enhanced appendages glowing back at him, covered in blood and bile. Shaking his hands hysterically he felt the darkness cover him again only to be replaced with the bodies of untold numbers of dead people from all races, paralyzing him with fear.

Suddenly the ground beneath him shook violently until a figure burst forth from beneath, sending him and countless corpses flying backwards; nearly knocking him unconscious. Slowly extracting himself from the grisly pile that covered him, numerous faces stared blankly in his direction, frozen in the moment of their deaths as if accusing him. He finally broke free, only to have his vision filled with a form that gestured towards him, the smoldering stench of rotting flesh surrounding him as he lowered down to a pyramid of torn flesh, similar burning piles present in the distance without end.

"I am beyond your comprehension, beyond you", a voice thundered that struck at Shepard's core.

"Sa … Saren?" was all he could muster in response as he stared on in disbelief.

A cruel smile crossed the former Spectre's lips as he reached down into the horror below him, lifting up a lifeless body by the back of the neck, its suit torn in numerous places, its helmet broken as blood slowly pooled at its inner base before trickling out onto the flesh and ground below.

"Ta … TALI!" he screamed, instinctively running to close the distance as fast as he could, his rage filled biotic powers surrounding his body in an eerie glow.

"She's mine now Shepard, thanks to you." He said, immediately followed by blood curdling laughter.

Leaping with all his might he managed to tackle the battered body while striking the traitor, removing her from the clutches of the resurrected turian who fell backwards into the burning pyre before hitting the ground on his back, trying to cushion as much as he could of the fall with his body.

Gently placing her blooded form on the ground while supporting her back and head in his arms, he ran his fingers along her cheek as softly as possible as if in disbelief that it really was her, eventually reaching the side of her lips before he was startled to feel a weak grasp on his arm, her eyes meeting his.

"John … Keelah, I hurt so much … " she spoke at almost a whisper, the blood that had been pooling in her helmet pouring freely into the punctures in her suit, the puddles that did managed to form immediately overflowing down to the ground, a sickening dripping sound followed her labored breaths.

"Stay with me Tali ..." was all he could muster as his heart tightened in his chest. Drawing his face closer hers, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips as if attempted to breathe his life into hers. Suddenly he felt the dryness of dust on his orifice followed by a crumbling of a substance that once was her body in his hands.

"John …" she managed to say while reaching out for him before she disappeared into a mass of charred ash, an imprint from her finger tips remaining on his cheek, the heat driven winds blowing most of it away leaving only the engagement gift he had given her, its presence mocking him; a mocking which was joined by a voice from behind.

"She's in hell because of you, you know that Shepard!" Saren crowed following it up with a piercing cackle as its owner placed a three fingered hand on his shoulder. Slowly a dark glow began to form in Shepard's hands, his eyes filled with the only emotion he had remaining…

Hate.

Turning to meet the sadistic turian, he struck him with all his biotic power, sending him crashing into the ground several feet away. Moving quickly he pounced on his retreating foe, knocking away the defensive motions the flaying traitor attempted to use for protection. Repeatedly Shepard struck him in the face, each blow penetrating deeper into Saren's flesh; each blow compacting blood, sinew, bone, and the various cybernetic changes done by Sovereign.

With each strike, a background chorus of clanging metal combined with an inhuman scream could be heard till his hand finally broke through the surface of what had been a vision of Saren's face surrounded by his own personal Hell; the horrors he suffered replaced with a burst of stale cold air that surrounded his body, a dim glow slowly creeping in as the door to his former tomb laid many feet away.

Shivering, he found the courage to move forward.

It had been a poor night at the quasar machines for the turian-for-hire. Losing most of the credits he had on him and finding his luck with the various dancers wasn't much better, he wasn't even lucky enough to come across one person that looked better off than he who he could rob to make up the difference.

'Stupid pedestrians' he thought as he moved passed another group of them, sizing them up for potential mischief with the pick-pocket bump.

'They always think that since I am a turian I am above robbing them, probably be different if I was a quarian.'

Knowing that his debts, or rather the lack of his ability to pay them, let alone the vig he owed each week were becoming a serious problem which attracted the wrong kind of attention, he made his way through the various back alleys of the Citadel. Unfortunately, this was known to the individual who had been following him carefully since he left the casino, using the shadows to hide his rather large presence.

"You know you should actually be walking in a more crowded area." The figure said as he stepped out from behind a corner, his large frame broken up by the heavily scarred light armor that he wore, an oddly shaped edged weapon hanging loosely from his side.

Moving his hands up to his face he lit a cigarette, letting the toxic smoke fill his lungs before slowly releasing them to the night air. The smoldering cigarette gave a dim glow to his features, equally scarred as his armor, one eye a pale white on white, the other a piercing blue. His hair was disheveled with long braided strands falling to the each side of his face, a goatee frosted white at the tips hanging several inches below his chin completing his features. For most that had the unfortunate luck to meet him under these circumstances, this would be the last thing they would see.

"Since they sent you, would it have mattered?" The turian said, slowly sizing up the situation. At this distance, he knew going for his pistols would be futile; he would be dead before he could shoot. 'Please let it be quick' he thought.

"No one sent me, not yet anyway." The massive human said as he walked towards him. It had been awhile since they had been in each others company. The human felt it was necessary to disband the group after the routine sweep and clear of a non-cooperative tenant went horribly wrong, well, at least for the tenants that is.

"So why are you here LC? I doubt this is some friendly visit. If so, you could have picked a better place. Hell, you could have met me at the casino, I could use the creds and your luck." he finished while slowing shifting his weight to a less threatening posture.

"Our previous employer from that job a year ago wants the old team together again for some more work. Creds would be enough to retire on, at least they should be."

Stopping to take another drag on his cigarette before flicking it to the ground, its embers dancing in the distance before being extinguished, he continued "Any ideas where I can find them?"

"Well, Travis took up with some plump asari whore at that bar we used to frequent back in the day, hits the red sand pretty hard. As for the blink, I don't know. He is still on the Citadel last I heard doing protection work for whoever has the credits."

"I'll find him." He said before turning to leave, slowly making his way back to the shadow he came from before he stopped. Glancing over his shoulder at the turian still standing somewhat dumbfounded in the place he left him, he slowly spoke "Cutter, the next time we have to run into each other like this, I promise I'll be quick", before disappearing into the darkness.

The collection he had built up was a testament to the tolerance his body had after almost a year of abusing the turian ale he was found of, not for its pleasing properties it had on his palette, but its ability to numb his conscious. Groggy eyed, he moved his arms across the table knocking off most of the bottles onto the floor with a crash, a fine mess of broken shards of glass waiting to claim an unsuspecting victim that dared to walk across their domain. Not that anyone other than himself could be a victim; that issue had taken care of itself awhile ago.

Leaning back into his chair to enjoy the calming effect it had on his churning stomach, he contemplated what had transpired in the past year. Realizing that reflecting on the past was a waste of time other than when it pertained to the mission at hand, he sat upright. Removing the datapad he had been reviewing prior to his escapade with the turian ale from the drawer, he began a review of the research and clues he had been documenting, hoping that some fact that he missed would finally be the lead he needed.

Looking up briefly after what seemed like hours, he placed the datapad down on the desk in defeat. Nothing new had been gained; nothing new had been brought to light from his repeated reviews. Slowly he reached down to the larger drawer below where he stored the datapad and pulled out the only friend he had.

Removing the seal on the bottle he allowed himself an indulgence of using a glass, filling it with the bright liquid before quickly chasing it down his gullet, repeating the process until his mind started to drift back into a more comforting intoxicated state.

Looking up slowly from the desk where his head had found a resting place, Garrus allowed the darkness of sleep to envelop him. The glow of two picture frames, one containing a long dead happy couple in an embrace, the other of a beautiful human female with a slight seductive smile once meant only for him, keeping him company.