John

It took him four hours to get from Earth to Jamone. A likely galactic record, fueled by a lover's concern and a rich bank account. He managed to calm Garrus down and get him to tell what had happened.

When arrived at the hospital, the worst sight he could have seen at that point met him: the media.

They swamped him like vultures on a corpse, human, turian, asari and salarian, and even an elcor; their squawks of "Commander Shepard" overlapping one-another. Little cameras hovered all around him, station logos emblazoned on their sides.

"Is it true your father-in-law has collapsed?"

"Will you be extending your hiatus due to these events?"

"Do you believe this is due to residual stress from the War?"

"Urgently: Can you give any comment on the rumor that you were seen in a therapist's office?"

He pushed through them, used to their parasitic ways. He was thankful to see that Diana Allers was not among them; though she was no Emily Wong, Allers at least held enough respect not to join the paparazzi.

When he reached his mother-in-law's room, he found Garrus sitting in a corner, hard at work on his omni-tool. One hospital bed had become two, the room more than large enough for them both; they must have requested to be together. Pallin lay in the new bed, asleep or unconscious, holographic monitors keeping track of his systems.

Garrus stood up when he noticed John come in. They embraced, Garrus holding him tight in his arms. Garrus' mother was curled up in her bed, facing Pallin, but John didn't know if she was awake or asleep. How could they tell?

"How is he?" John asked.

Garrus sniffed and exhaled, recomposing himself. "They say he'll be fine with lots of rest. It's a good thing it happened here in the hospital, or he might not have. . ." He broke away, letting the sentence finish itself. "I've been trying to call Solana. No luck, of course." He forced a chuckle. "This morning, I was just worried about mom. Now my whole family's in danger and I can't do anything. Mom rescinded the DNR order, at least, but only so she could keep an eye on Dad. She still doesn't want treatment."

"Hey," John said. He didn't know what to say in a situation like this. "It'll be okay. We'll figure it all out."

Pallin stirred in his bed, his eyes opening slowly. He looked around the room, looking confused. When his eyes fell on John, he groaned.

"It wasn't a dream," he said, his voice frighteningly weak. John simply couldn't process the Executor in this condition. Pallin tried to sit himself up, but his arms couldn't hold his own weight. He fell back into the bed with a thud. "Damn it. Solana?"

Garrus rushed to his bedside. "Lay down. It's all right; I'm taking care of it."

Pallin mumbled something. ". . .after her."

"No, you have to rest. Please."

Garrus managed to get Pallin back down—it wasn't as though his father was in any shape to fight him. John stood behind Garrus at the bedside.

"I'll find her," he said over Garrus' shoulder. "Don't worry." Pallin looked at him straight in the eyes, and despite his exhaustion, John could stil read their message clear: You'd better.

"Garrus," Pallin whispered. "I have. . .to. . ."

"Sleep, dad. Rest."

Pallin's eyes kept falling. His head lolled on the pillow. "Solana. . .she's. . ." Before he could finish, his head rested and his words trailed off into quiet murmurs. Garrus adjusted his pillow before letting him rest.

A light blipped in John's peripheral vision. He turned and saw the AI shaped in his mother-in-law's likeness. "John," the VI said. Xenaphor's eyes were open slightly; he remembered to look at them when he talked, not at the VI. "It has been a while. I wish circumstances were better. Garrus, how is your father?"

From one bedside to the other, Garrus moved to be closer to his mom. All of the stress of his situation hit John in that moment, just watching him. "He's all right, mom, just sleeping. You should too."

"No." Even with its monotonous voice, the statement seemed to carry a tone of finality. "What are you going to do about Solana?"

John and Garrus shared a look. He wanted to know that, too. "We're going to figure that out, mom. Don't worry."

"I will worry anyway. Keep me updated."

Garrus stood and they walked out of the room together, walking through the hall.

"What can we do?" John asked.

Garrus stopped in the middle of the hall. "Aria. She's in charge of the Suns now; we'll tell her what happened and she can arrange safe transport for Sol. Can you contact her?"

"I don't think so," he said.

"Damn it, why not?"

"I don't exactly have her on speed-dial, Garrus. Is there even any guarantee that she'd help us?"

They resumed their walk, Garrus keeping a step ahead. "She'll help, if only so we'll owe her a favor in return. If it comes to that. . ."

They reached the hospital front entrance. The media vultures were still outside. When they spotted the two of them through the glass doors, the camera shutters immediately went off again.

"Maybe I should go the back way," Garrus said.

"Wait," John said, "what are you doing?"

"I have to go to Omega and get my sister back. What else?"

John put a hand on Garrus' shoulder. "Hold on. What about your parents?"

". . .I was hoping. . .well, will you keep an eye on them until I get back?"

"What?" Him? Taking care of Pallin? Neither of them would like that very much. "But I'm coming with you!"

Garrus shook his head. "No. I need to do this."

"Don't be a stubborn—"

"It's my fault she's gone!" People looked at them. Garrus shrunk and resumed walking. "They took her to get at Archangel, John."

"You're not Archangel anymore."

"I created Archangel. Whether it's me in the suit or this new fool, what difference does it make to Solana? I have to do this on my own. Besides. . .nevermind."

"What?"

"Nothing."

John stopped when he realized what the "nothing" was. "You don't want to trigger any of my episodes."

"I didn't say—"

"God damn it, Garrus, I'm not an invalid!"

Garrus' spine stiffened, and John realized what he just said. "I'm sorry," he said immediately.

Garrus didn't respond. "I want to do this by myself. Keep me posted on my parents' conditions. And talk to Mom about getting the treatment."

"I don't know if I'm the right person for that. If she won't listen to you or your dad. . ."

Garrus shrugged. "You talked the quarians into reconciling with the geth, and, even more impressive, talked the turians into reconciling with the krogan. You convinced the leviathans to join the War, and you managed to talk Saren into killing himself. You can be pretty convincing with words." He turned to look John in the eyes. He had known Garrus long enough to read his every facial expression, different as it was from a human's, and he could tell that the smile he wore was a sad one. "Me, I need money and bullets to convince anyone of anything, and my mother doesn't care about either."

There was no point in responding, John knew. When Garrus got stubborn about something, not even he could talk him out of it—despite his apparent gift for words. "At least wait a few minutes," he said.

"Why? I've wasted enough time."

"It's the Blue Suns, right? I might've. . .called in some backup on my way here."

Garrus looked at him suspiciously. "What kind of backup?"

On cue, the glass doors opened at the front of the hospital. Someone screamed in the lobby when they saw the disfigured man enter, armed to the teeth, and walk up to the two of them like nothing in the world was wrong.

"Right," Zaeed Massani said, his mismatched right eye twinkling with psychotic amusement. "So what kind of trouble have you assholes got into this time?"


Solana

Solana stayed in her designated room, too worried to try and leave. A small lamp gave off the only light in the windowless space, exposing a bare-walled room not much bigger than a cell, with nothing but a bed and a small metal table. The only potential weapon was the glass in the lamp's bulb, which would amount to absolutely nothing against guns and armor. She was too afraid to sleep. Nobody came in to disturb her or even open the door, but there was no lock on the inside.

For the millionth time, she tried her omni-tool. For the millionth time, she couldn't even get it to come on. Revealing her real name had been a mistake. If she had kept her mouth shut or just made something up, they might've restored some use to her omni-tool and she could call for help. . .though they probably had a contingency plan for that. But they would never allow her the opportunity to call Shepard; the man had dealt with the Blue Suns multiple times in the past, and it always ended with the Suns reeling. Shepard had even destroyed one of the Blue Suns' most successful private prison ships, before the War ever started.

And then there was her father, who had to have more than enough connections to get to her somehow. And Garrus, who would probably destroy everything in his way to get to her. She just had to contact them. . .

The sound of the door sliding open made her jump. She swung at whoever was coming in. Drineax caught her wrist inches away from his face, which looked like it had already been through a beating. Most likely Marina's work.

"Pretty girls usually wait until I say something before slapping," Drineax said, releasing Solana's wrist. "Been getting comfy?"

She stepped back into the room. Drineax remained in the doorway, out of her space. Whatever caused his injuries, they clearly hadn't stopped his sense of humor.

"I want my omni-tool," she said.

Drineax shrugged. "I want a million credits and a couple dozen naked asari consorts. Your omni-tool is decommissioned; I hope you didn't have any important pictures on it. You might have mentioned your family legacy before all of this, you know. I would have left you alone."

"I'm sorry," she said sarcastically. "I was preoccupied."

Drineax poked his head out of the door, as if to check if anyone else was there. "So, uh. . ." he put his head in close. "Is it true? I won't tell anyone if it's not, though there are much better lies you could come up with. Like, 'Hey, you know my dad, the Primarch?'"

"Of course it's true," she said. She realized that her only protection against these people would become moot if they didn't believe she was who she said she was. "If you don't believe me, then give me a working omni-tool and I'll call them myself."

"Yeah, I'll just take your word for it, thanks. So what's he like?"

"Shepard?" She thought about her interactions with him. "He's nice, I guess. We haven't really—"

"Not Shepard—Garrus! Is he really as good a sniper as they say he is? I heard he once calibrated a dreadnought's gun within point-zero-zero-two percent of its—"

The look she gave him shut him up. His mandibles twitched a few times. "I'm sort of a fan."

"You might get to meet him when he comes to blow you all to hell."

Drineax sighed in an exaggerated forlorn way. "I guess kidnapping his sister wouldn't incline him to sign my gun. Oh well; I'll just have to take you back."

She had stopped listening, until the end. "What?"

"Well, not literally 'back' back, but I guess I could help pay for the airfare or. . ."

Spirits, but the man could test the patience of an elcor. "The point, please?"

"Marina put me in charge of you. Something about causing a mess and therefore being responsible for it." He pointed to his bruised eye and winked. "See, we're in a very difficult position here. We can't kill you or let you get killed, because we like living with all of our organs intact. At the same time, we can't just let you leave; you know where we're based, after all. The sensible option would be for Marina to tell Aria about you and let her handle the fallout from there, but Marina. . .she's new, you see, and she and Aria don't always get along. Now, the leader before her, he would have seen some sense, Archangel took care of him."

Solana tried to process everything he said. "Wait. You were in the Suns when Archangel attacked? I thought they were wiped out."

"They were. The leader, the officers, the strategists, anybody important in the Suns was killed. Just me and a few other lackeys survived, and then, only by accident, lucky us. The other survivors had the sense to get out and go straight, but me. . .I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment."

"So, what, you're going to sneak me out?"

"Well, I'm gonna make it look like you escaped, but same difference. That way, everything resolves itself."

She studied his eyes, looking for any dishonesty. "Marina would be pissed at you. And why would you do that anyway?"

Drineax just grinned. "She can't get more pissed than she was today. As for why I would do it. . .I really want that autograph."

As usual, she couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. He did seem like someone who would do something so insane for such an insane reason, but he could have been trying to trick her. He had to have some ulterior motive. Maybe it was a test to see how she'd react.

"But it can't be right now," he said. "The shifts aren't right for it. It won't be more than a day, I think. Until then, just lay low and do as you're told."

"How can I trust you?"

"You can't. I'm an unpredictable psychopath, remember?" He winked at her again. "All you have is my word, which is admittedly rather worthless, for more reasons than you know. Whether you trust me or not is your business. But I really am on your side, and not because you're related to Garrus Vakarian."

"Then why?" Nothing he said made any sense. 'More reasons than she knew'? What did he mean by that?

He broke eye contact with her for the first time in their conversation, scratching the back of his neck. "Well," he said nervously. "For the trick you showed me. On the plane. You probably wouldn't do it now, I suppose, but you didn't know me back then. You just. . .helped a guy out for no real reason. I like that. It's. . .unpredictable. There needs to be more of that in the galaxy, I think." He cleared his throat and regained eye contact. "Think about it," he said quickly. "I'll let you know when it's time to bolt."

He turned and left the room before she could say anything, the door sliding shut behind him. She stared at the spot where he stood for a while, trying very hard to comprehend the many insanities of the universe.


Archangel

He stood in silence, trying not to let his impatience show. Michael and Raphael sat at their respective seats, Raphael tapping his fingers against the metal table. Outside of that room, they had names, identities, and lives of their own. But in here, they took on a new purpose, his purpose; in here, they and their cause were inseparable, their codenames their real names, their outside lives a dream contrasted with a new reality.

The door finally opened, and Gabriel sauntered in, fully armored like the rest of them, and sat down at his seat.

"You're late," he said.

"Sorry," Gabriel replied, "you wouldn't believe the day I've had."

His lieutenants looked at him, waiting for him to start. Heralds of a new generation, waiting for his input. He pressed a button on his omni-tool, and a holographic projection of Omega appeared at the center of the table. "What's our status?" He asked the three.

Raphael spoke first. "The Blood Pack is regrouping their efforts, but they're having a difficult time finding krogan officers. Vorcha mostly dominate now, with a krogan at the helm named Skorn. Aria brought him in from the Skyllian Verge. The intelligence we've gathered suggests they're most likely based here," he "grabbed" the holographic image and spun it ninety degrees, to demonstrate a spot near the aqueduct systems. "What more fitting place than the sewers? Say the word, and I can have a team confirm and destroy the entire operation."

It was what they had already done, and all it amounted to was Aria replacing each group with more mercenaries. Like ants, killing a bunch of them only seemed to reveal a bunch more. He turned to Michael. Even though they both wore visors over their eyes, he could still feel the intense gaze of the turian within.

"Are the Talons amenable?" He asked.

Michael nodded, a slow gesture that carried a tone in itself. Not even Archangel knew whether Michael was incapable of speech or simply unwilling to say a word, but his. . .specific skill set didn't require require that he speak. Only that others speak to him.

"Good." He turned to Gabriel, by far the most difficult of his lieutenants to tolerate, but also probably the most brilliant; he had been invaluable in their previous assault. "And on your end?"

"We're ready to begin the assault on the Blue Suns' base, but we have a small problem," Gabriel said. "Apparently, the Blue Suns have kidnapped Solana Vakarian, sister to one Garrus Vakarian."

Solana Vakarian. He couldn't believe it. A true testament to the small size of the galaxy, he laughed. A low giggle at first, it rose within him into a hysterical cacophony that even frightened him a little bit. The three shifted uncomfortably in their seats, all looking at him, doubtless questioning his sanity. When he finally got himself under control, his stomach hurting from the laughter, he addressed Gabriel again.

"And why," he took a deep breath, "why is this a problem?"

Gabriel returned his gaze. "We can't risk her getting harmed. If Commander Shepard turns against us, then we'll lose everything; the support of the populace, the war against Aria, all of it. Not to mention the fact that we'll all die."

"Shepard is a non-player," Raphael said. "He hasn't involved himself in any military or political disputes since the War ended; he wouldn't come here now."

"Killing his sister-in-law might be enough motivation to bring him out of retirement," Gabriel replied. "And then there's her brother, who very much is still involved, and by what I've read, he has a mean streak."

He had heard about Garrus Vakarian's tendency to carry a vendetta, whether it was in hunting down Doctor Heart or his role in the Reaper War. There were even rumors and theories that he was the original Archangel, based on his legendary sniper skills. . .though he doubted it was true. Regardless, Gabriel's point about losing the populace was correct; if Shepard came out against them, even from a distance, the whole galaxy would follow, including Omega. They could lose everything.

Then again. . .

"The assault continues as planned," he said.

"But—" Gabriel started. Archangel held up a hand.

"Keep her safe. I assume you and your men know what she looks like? But bring her to me. I'd like to speak to her, personally."

"Why's that?" Gabriel asked. Of them all, he was the only one who questioned him and his orders so much. It was both his greatest quality and his most infuriating.

"Commander Shepard would be devastating as an enemy," he said. "But what if we could use the sister to make him an ally?"

Even Michael seemed taken aback by that. Raphael spoke up. "Remember that it was Shepard who gave Aria power over the merc groups in the first place. They've personally worked together in the past!"

"True, but those were more desperate times. Would he be so supportive of her now? Especially if his own family turned against her? I doubt that very much." He turned back to Gabriel. "See it done. As for the rest, we proceed. I've been patient with Aria long enough; if she insists on keeping her mercenaries, then I'll insist on taking them from her until there are none left."

The three of them stood, saluted to him, and left, returning to their other identities for now. He took off his helmet and rubbed at his eyes. He no longer had any other identity to return to. To his followers, and to the galaxy, he was only Archangel, and that was what he would be even to himself. He went over what Gabriel had said to him and laughed a second time. Solana Vakarian. . .what a small, ludicrous galaxy, indeed.