The cell was lonely, quiet, with sturdy walls to keep Garrus locked away with echoes of his troublesome thoughts until the first leg of the journey could be completed. It wasn't anything spectacular. Just a small outpost on a rocky planet he hadn't heard anything remarkable about, a layover of sorts to refuel and renew the eezo core on the schooner, ensure the discharge mechanisms weren't in danger of frying, and various other bits of maintenance to get them through the long expanses of space that used to take only hours. The trip was expected to take the better part of a three months, if he recalled correctly, and he certainly wasn't looking forward to spending that kind of time on a cramped prison ship. He was glad to be the only incarcerated individual aboard at the moment. It afforded him a bit more leniency with containment procedure than would perhaps be excusable with the eight cells full; he was given longer periods out of his chamber than would be plausible with more, and certainly the air in the ship wasn't thick with tension and contained aggression.

Chellick spent more time than usual with him as well. Mostly, they exchanged war stories with one another, Garrus taking more than a little pleasure embellishing the tale behind his scars, rather purposefully avoiding the awkward discomfort of addressing the details of the charges brought against the renegade. They each had their side, and with little doubt, an argument would erupt between them every time. Best not to ruin a peaceful trip.

As the trek carried on, though, Garrus found Chellick's visits growing infrequent, which alerted the turian immediately that, when the Executor entered the cell with acerbity on his raptor features after their long voyage had drawn to a close, the friendly passing of time had come to an abrupt end. Chellick sat across from Garrus at the table, stiffened by the demand of his position, datapad at the ready and glowing.

"We're nearing Kailo," he began, stoic and solid, camouflaged beneath the exterior demanded of him. "There, you will be transferred to a larger vessel that will continue to the Covenant, where your sentence will be processed." He traced a talon over the radiant pad in his hand.

"Covenant?" Garrus chimed curiously.

"With the Citadel in complete ruin, an asari dreadnought has been repurposed to serve as a base of operations for the council." An amused touch infiltrated his even tone. "In orbit around Earth, of all places."

"And you're not coming?"

"I have other matters that demand my attention, and far too little time to tend them. That's why I'm here now." Reluctance played into Chellick's tone at that point. "I need to hear your side of this before I can forward you on."

"Pass me off and be done with me, you mean." Garrus' words had a bite to them that the Executor was none too happy about, his eyes narrowing.

"If that's how you'd prefer to view it, fine, but that doesn't change anything." With that, he dropped the datapad to the cold table and scooted it to the side, folding his taloned fingers before him. "So tell me why, Garrus."

"As if you haven't already made your decision?" Spite filtered into his voice at that, harsh and acrid. "Why bother with this? I'm a deserter to you, and nothing I say is going to fix that. We both know it."

"That's not how this works. I can't toss you in a cell on a whim, and while, yes, I am the head of C-sec now, the choice isn't entirely in my hands."

"So I get a trial? How generous of you, but is there really any reason for it?"

"Because I'm not going to throw you in prison to rot without a fair chance," Chellick's voice raised, tension starting to bubble over a bit. Agitation at the renegade's unvoiced accusation that he would so hastily make an executive move on a matter like this was starting to pry at him more. He reclaimed a touch of his composure, bringing his voice back down to a more reasonable volume. "Now if you want my report to contain anything worthwhile to keeping you out of a cell, I'd appreciate if you would stop trying to shoot down my chance to put it together, and stop acting like I don't give a damn about you." That made Garrus stop for a second. With a sigh, he nodded, conceding.

"Alright Executor." He took a moment to gather his thoughts together. "I never meant to abandon my position, you know that." To that, Chellick nodded, tapping away at the glowing pad. "But, tracking down Saren was a lot more important to me than waiting two weeks for processing, so yes, I suppose I did leave too quickly."

"This is Shepard's fault, then?" Chellick's voice didn't betray any personal opinion one way or another, leaving only room for clarification.

"No. I made my choice, not him," Garrus retorted defensively.

"If he would have waited -"

"We couldn't wait. Saren was busy lining up Geth to follow him, and at the time, we had no idea why. We had to move immediately." A pause, and a reluctant sigh, preluded a defeated admission from the renegade. "I acted too brashly. I ignored orders. It turned out to be for the greater good, but that isn't enough, is it?"

Chellick diligently took notes and said nothing. The silence fell heavily for a moment before he finally spoke.

"And afterward?"

"That I have to put on you, Executor." Garrus' tone took a more relaxed turn at that. "Perhaps when there's a threat of desertion charges, a pleasant invitation back isn't the way to go." The Executor nodded with a clucked laugh.

"I thought I would get you back before charges were officially filed. Didn't expect you to disappear off to Omega and play vigilante."

"Then you don't know me very well." Chellick grunted at that, huffing slightly before quietly adding the new input.

"I suppose that responsibility sits squarely on my shoulders, then."

"I have to agree." Garrus reclined slightly, stretching his legs beneath the table and settling his hands in his lap. "Any reason you didn't bring any of this up? We were on the Citadel constantly during the ordeal with the Collectors."

"Because," Chellick began with a sigh, "what you were doing was more important. When I could get to you, you were busy with real issues, and when you weren't helping to save every last one of us, I couldn't find you."

"Then I was doing my job well," Garrus mused with a touch of pride in his tone.

"After the Collectors and Cerberus were deal with?" Chellick pressed.

"What can I say?" Garrus posited, shrugging ever so slightly. "Everything piled on one after another. What we learned when dealing with the Collectors showed us the real threat at hand, and we saw it through to the end. I wasn't about to leave the Normandy to that fight alone."

"Did it ever once occur to you to return to C-Sec?"

"Honestly, no, it didn't. I had bigger things on my mind." The exchange between them had grown intense, their voices rising and bristling at one another with each new word they spoke. The Executor sighed slightly, though his words were cut off before he could say anything. "It was too late by then anyway. Maybe somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that, and I have little doubt you would have pulled me away from our mission before it was done if I had."

"Is that why I put this conversation off for so long?" Chellick's tone softened in an attempt to reveal to Garrus just how far he had gone to avoid dumping this mess onto his shoulders until the Reaper threat was handled. The renegade, try as he might, couldn't really offer a debate. Chellick tapped at the datapad for a moment longer and stood, turning the device off with a buzz and a blip.

"I'm going to be pulling for you,Garrus, whether you believe I'm on your side or not. I don't care that you were gone. What you pulled off with the Normandy meant too much for me to hold a grudge that you left." Garrus didn't offer anything in return, knowing full well there was no point at all. Chellick tarried for just a moment longer before he turned to leave.

"Thanks," Garrus sighed after him. Left alone in the room to brood on his thoughts, Garrus couldn't bring himself beyond the sudden onset of hopelessness. This was really it. After everything, he'd have to face punishment for desertion, which he knew could mean a long time in a cell. As much as it bothered him that he wouldn't be able to help the rebuilding efforts throughout the galaxy, he grew selfish in those stewing moments. How could this be the way it ends for him? How could he really go out with a quiet little whimper after the magnanimous hell he had gone through for all of them? Didn't he deserve more?

The vast quiet of space that pressed on the room, with little cacophony from the machinery of the ship to break the stillness, seemed heavy to him in that moment. No matter how much he accomplished, in the greater scheme of things, he was nothing but a runaway, a renegade, a rebel that could never earn the right to be treated as anything more. He heaved a sigh in the quietness that echoed slightly off of the stoic walls. He had never, in his life, felt more alone than at that moment.