When he was called into Victus' office first thing in the morning, he expected another strategy meeting or intelligence debriefing. When he got there, though, Victus was alone, inspecting their galaxy map. He turned to face Garrus as the aide announced him.
"Vakarian."
"General. What's the occasion?"
Victus sat at the table in the room's center and gestured for him to take one of the other seats. Garrus appreciated the informality. Victus had a desk, but he rarely addressed him from across it.
"A new mission for you."
Garrus tilted his head, feeling his pulse pick up a little at the thought of getting out in the field again. He tried to quash it down, with little success. "Sir?"
Victus caught his movement and shook his head minutely. "Our negotiators have come to an agreement with the Alliance. You've been selected to assist in presenting our case to the Council."
There was a momentary blaze of victory and relief. We did it. They listened to Shepard. It was quickly followed by puzzlement, and then suspicion. "Sir, with all due respect, why me? I'm aware that diplomacy is not one of the outstanding qualities in my record."
"You've met with the Council before under Shepard and are familiar with the proceedings. You're also familiar with some members of the human delegation and are in position to coordinate preparations with Alliance personnel."
Garrus eyed him skeptically. While technically true, his dealings with the Council and Alliance were limited to being part of the background scenery while Shepard made her reports. He doubted anyone from either entity would recognize his face, and while he was in a position to coordinate with Alliance personnel, there was no reason it had to be done in person.
"We'd also like to have someone who was present at the time to answer questions. Since Shepard is not available, you're the best option." Victus paused and sent him a quelling look. "Look at it as a chance to get away from the bureaucracy for a while. You're about two steps away from another interdepartmental incident."
Garrus winced. It was true that his patience with the labyrinth of red tape Supply Chain Ops had him running through was quickly reaching its limit. "I didn't realize I was that obvious."
Victus leveled a frank look at him. "Vakarian. Allow me to make an observation as a friend, not your superior. Since you were selected for this position, you've accomplished a great deal with very little in the way of background or resources. You've learned to do your job well, and yet the most relaxed I've ever seen you was right after Venaxa. This job doesn't suit you. "
Garrus stiffened momentarily, and then let out a breath, resigned. "I've never been comfortable at a desk. But someone needs to do it," he admitted, his voice coming out more tired than he'd like.
Victus' eyes wandered to his own desk, piled high with datapads. "True," he said, after a moment, before his eyes flicked back to Garrus'. "But find an outlet for that restlessness before it trips you up."
"Understood, sir," he said stiffly.
Victus nodded briskly. "Then make your preparations to leave for the Citadel tomorrow. And think about what I said. Dismissed."
Garrus paced back to his office, Victus' words weighing on him uneasily. Things had been better since he'd come back from Venaxa and been allowed to start giving their defenses teeth. The increased latitude to take the necessary measures had been a relief, and for a while, that had been enough to get him through the frustrations of administrative work. But the increased scope of his duties had brought him into contact with more and more of the bureaucracy. He'd gotten better at dealing with it - he hadn't been nearly as tolerant of red tape in C-Sec - but the senseless hurdles placed in the way of necessary action galled him.
He wasn't an idiot. This was the same need to fix problems directly that had gotten him in trouble in the military and C-Sec and had eventually driven him to Omega. He'd learned from those mistakes. And this time, the stakes were too high for him to screw it up.
He left the complex early to make preparations for the trip. The house was quiet when he got there, but for a low murmur from his parents' room. It was too muffled to hear distinct words, but he stopped in the entryway for a moment, listening to it. Often, by the time he got back, his mother had gone to bed. It was rare for him to see his parents together.
He set down the datapads he'd brought home and moved up the hallway. His father exited the room as he reached the halfway point and for a moment, they were caught in an uncomfortable staring match before his father gave a stiff, silent nod and disappeared into his study.
Things had been tense between them ever since his activities on Omega had come to light. They were both too stubborn to actively avoid one another, but they didn't speak beyond the bare requirements of civility. Sometimes, he caught his father watching him with a closed, guarded expression, as if he were a stranger found in some place he shouldn't be. And perhaps that wasn't so far off from the truth of the matter.
It surprised him how much the sudden distance bothered him. When he'd first come back to Palaven, he'd been prepared to find he'd been disowned in absentia. The tentative peace and mutual respect that had grown between him and his father instead was the last thing he'd expected, and its loss was startlingly sharp.
He set those thoughts aside and continued to the end of the hall. The door slid open immediately under his knock, and his mother sent him a tremulous smile.
"Garrus." She glanced at the bright window. "Aren't you usually back a little later than this?"
Mentally, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was one of the good days.
"Came back early to pack. They want me to leave for the Citadel tomorrow."
"The Citadel? What do they need you there for?"
He shook his head. "I can't discuss the specifics, but I'm required for a meeting with the Council."
She regarded him archly for a moment and then huffed a laugh. "You were always such a troublemaker as a child. Who would have thought you'd grow up to have meetings with the Council?"
He summoned up his best imitation of a cocky grin. "I'm still a troublemaker. I've just graduated to making trouble for more important people."
"Better them than me." She was quiet a moment. "Will you be gone long?"
"I wasn't given a time frame, but I don't think it will take more than a few days. Most of the groundwork should already have been laid."
"You'll call us while you're there?" The request was casually worded, but he read in it that she might have the same fear that he did, that he might leave and come back to find her gone.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I'll call."
"I'll hold you to it. Have you told your father?"
Mentally, he winced. "Not yet."
She watched him quietly for a moment. "Is there something going on between you two?"
Garrus sighed. "We had a disagreement." He paused, weighing just how much to tell her. "I did some things I'm not proud of over the past two years and Dad found out about it." He left it unsaid that it was the things he was proud of that his father disagreed most with.
There was a stillness between them for a minute. This was an old scene between the two of them, stretching back to the very beginnings of his adulthood. At last, his mother shakily reached out and gripped his hand with a sigh. "Sometimes, I think you're too like each other." A pause. "You know he pushes so hard because he wants the best for you."
He gave her hand a brief squeeze. "I know." He stood. "I'll go tell him the news." He paused, on his way to the door. "I'll come back after we've talked, and if you're feeling up to it, we can play a game before dinner."
His mother flared her mandibles shakily into a mock-threatening attitude. The levity was forced, but he appreciated the gesture. "I'm not yet so decrepit that I can't trounce you. Come back when you're done."
He exited the room and paused in the hallway outside his father's study, hesitating a moment before straightening his shoulders and rapping at the door. There was a sharp assent from within and the door slid open under his hand. His father half-turned in his seat at the desk by the window to face him.
"Garrus."
"Dad."
There was a half a breath of uncomfortable silence before he cleared his throat and spoke. "I've been asked to go to the Citadel to assist in presenting the evidence to the Council. I'm leaving tomorrow and I expect to be gone a few days."
His father leaned back in his seat. "The Council?" he murmured. "Then things are moving quickly."
"They have to," he replied soberly.
His father nodded slowly. There was another uncomfortable pause, and eventually Garrus turned to leave, having nothing else to say. Before he got far, his father's voice broke across the room. "Travel safe."
He stopped and turned to find his father watching him intently. "Thanks," he said after a moment, and hesitated, thinking of his mother. "Call me if anything happens?" There was no need to explain further than that.
Something in his father's expression unknotted. "I will."
He left early the next morning on a VIP transport to the Citadel. Victus had forwarded him an itinerary, and when he reached the station, he barely had time to check into the hotel before he was due to meet Councilor Sparatus.
He met the Councilor in his office overlooking the Presidium. Sparatus had always been Shepard's least favorite Councilor, and Garrus had found his blunt refusal to acknowledge a possible threat infuriating, but a part of him could not help but admire the man's unwillingness to mince his words.
Sparatus inclined his head as he entered. "Advisor Vakarian. The Primarch sent me a brief on your activities, but I must confess I remain skeptical. The Council has been inundated with false alarms from conspiracy theorists of all kinds after the geth invasion."
Garrus snorted. "For once, they're right. The geth never had the kind of technology they used at the Citadel. An entire fleet to take out one ship is unprecedented."
The Councilor leaned forward, hunching his shoulders in an attempt to intimidate. "A single geth ship is not evidence of..."
Garrus saw his opportunity and didn't even bother to try and resist. He had the full weight of the Hierarchy backing him and he could afford a little satisfaction.
"Ah, yes," he drawled, as he raised his hands and crooked his first fingers, "'a geth ship."' He paused for dramatic effect. "We have dismissed that claim."
Sparatus eyed him sourly. "Ah. You're that Vakarian. I might have known."
Garrus smothered a too-wide grin and sat carefully in one of the stiff chairs in front of the Councilor's desk. "In all seriousness, Councilor, you've received the report on Venaxa. We both know Sovereign was not a geth ship. Intelligence was able to vet the information the Normandy retrieved. Sovereign was the vanguard of an invasion. The threat is very real. We can't afford to ignore it."
Sparatus watched him impassively. At the end of the speech, though, he sighed and seemed to relax minutely. "I did receive the reports," he admitted. "The scope of the alleged threat is unprecedented, but the evidence is more persuasive than I'd anticipated." He grimaced. "I suppose I owe you an apology."
"No," Garrus replied levelly, "you owe Shepard an apology. We had two years to prepare for this and we wasted it, despite her warnings."
There was a tense silence, and then Sparatus nodded once before returning his expression to the cool, professional neutrality he'd worn at the start of the meeting. "Noted, Advisor. Let us return to the business at hand."
Garrus followed suit, relaxing back into his seat. "Agreed, Councilor. Will the Council lend us its support?"
"Difficult to say. The Alliance is as pushy as always, but they're on our side this time. Tevos will oppose any aggressive action - she may view the Hierarchy's current association with the Alliance as an attempt at a political coup and she'll likely try to play us against each other. It will hinge on Velarn. He won't want to commit to anything - he never wants to commit to anything - but he's under pressure from the STG, who are apparently taking this very seriously. If he can be bullied into taking a position, we'll have it."
A clear and present threat to the entire galaxy, and we'll still kill ourselves by inches arguing politics, he thought wearily. "What do you estimate our chances are?" he asked aloud.
"Better than fifty percent," Sparatus replied. "More than I would have thought. Regardless of whether the Council will agree with the Hierarchy's and Alliance's actions, the publicity may at least prevent sanctions for a time." He gave Garrus a hard look. "This is a dangerous step, Vakarian. I hope you know what you're doing. An association between the Hierarchy and the Alliance will make a lot of people nervous. If the Reapers really do show up, we'll be heroes. But if they don't, this will almost certainly split the Council."
Garrus exhaled slowly. "They're coming, Councilor. There's no doubt of it. We can't afford to let political maybes hold us back. We have to be ready." He resisted the urge to flare his mandibles to emphasize the point. "Assuming the Council can be persuaded, what support can we expect?"
Sparatus folded his hands together and leaned forward. "Understand, I can't speak for the Council as a whole. Anything I say on the topic is speculation only. In the best case scenario, the Council constituent members will pledge their full economic and military support and the elcor and volus will follow along to curry political favor. It's more likely that we'll receive substantial economic support and limited military assistance. The volus will follow the money in that case, and the elcor will maintain status quo. It's anybody's guess what the hanar will do."
"That's better than I'd expected, actually," he said. What he had observed of the Council's interactions with Shepard had been dismissive to the point of outright antagonism.
Sparatus snorted. "We're being helped along by the fact that it's you presenting the case and not Shepard this time."
He cocked his head skeptically. This is a new one. "Come again?"
Sparatus waved a hand dismissively. "Not to impugn the commander's dedication to her duty. But after the incident with Saren, the Alliance used her role in the battle to leverage considerable political power. Her subsequent work with a human-supremacist organization is dubious at best and treasonous at worst. The Alliance is making efforts to rehabilitate her image, but that's not easily forgotten. Shepard personally appears to be a fine soldier and Spectre, but she's also a dangerous political pawn who's been used more than once to advance human interests."
Garrus felt his mandibles flare outward in an involuntary show of temper, but controlled his immediate reaction. The Shepard he knew was no one's pawn, but yes, damn it all, he could see where this was coming from. "Shepard's a damned fine officer and I was honored to serve with her," he said after a moment. "I never knew her to favor her own species over another. If others have taken advantage of her actions, it was without her knowledge or approval."
"Perhaps. It's still fortunate that she is not here."
Well, Shepard. Never thought I'd be covering your six quite like this. He brought his mandibles back in to a neutral attitude with an effort. "I'll take whatever advantage I can get," he said. "We can't afford to lose this."
Sparatus, who had been watching carefully, with a closed expression and quick eyes, gave him a sharp nod, and they set about the business of planning out their approach.
They met with their Alliance counterparts shortly afterward. To his mild surprise, Garrus recognized both. Anybody who followed politics at all knew Udina, of course, but he had not expected to see Anderson on the Citadel so soon after his retirement from politics. Anderson had struck him as a direct sort when he'd met him on the SR-1, though he wondered if that had changed with his appointment to the Council.
Sparatus and Udina quickly settled down to discuss the finer political points of their joint presentation, and he and Anderson were left sitting awkwardly at the sidelines. After a few minutes of this, Anderson caught his eye.
"Advisor Vakarian. I'm glad to meet you under better circumstances than the last time we spoke."
The last time they'd spoken directly had been at Shepard's funeral. Quickly, he pushed that memory aside. "You as well, Admiral."
"I'm told we have you to thank for this." He gestured at where the Councilors were seated, politely arguing over their upcoming roles in the discussion. Puzzled, Garrus tilted his head and watched him curiously.
"I'm afraid I can't take the credit for this. I played only a peripheral role in negotiations."
Anderson shook his head. "No. I mean that you and Shepard both went far above and beyond the scope of your duty to bring this to the ears of the right people. I haven't had the opportunity to serve alongside many turian troops," he looked uncomfortable for a second, and Garrus realized that this man was of an age to have served in the Relay 314 Incident, "but many of the human soldiers I've known would have escalated it up the chain of command and washed their hands of it."
Garrus blinked. It had never occurred to him. With a threat so great, what other course of action was there? He shifted uncomfortably. "The stakes are too high for us to take chances."
Perhaps Anderson picked up on his discomfort, for he responded with a curt nod. "True enough." He cleared his throat. "They also tell me you're the one to speak with about coordinating our defenses."
He relaxed. This was something he was eager to talk about. "I can't make final decisions without approval from my superiors, but, yes, I'm authorized to liaise with Alliance forces on potential joint operations."
"I look forward to working with you. I'll forward you our current plans and we can get our people talking." Anderson offered his hand, and Garrus shook it gingerly. Although he was familiar with the gesture, he'd never been quite sure just how much pressure was polite.
They were interrupted by ostentatious throat-clearing from Udina. "Gentlemen, if you're ready?"
Anderson's lips thinned as he glanced over to the Councilor. "Then let's go."
"Councilors. Admiral. Advisor. The steps you have proposed are extraordinary." Velarn's eyes moved slowly from face to face, gauging reactions around the room.
Tevos folded her hands deliberately on the table. "Even more extraordinary are the measures you have taken already on your own initiative. Both the Hierarchy and the Alliance have invested considerably in military infrastructure recently. The sabre-rattling has not gone unnoticed."
Sparatus answered her. "An extraordinary threat requires an extraordinary response. The evidence was submitted to each of our governments. The Hierarchy wishes to maintain peaceful relations with the other members of the Council, but we will not ignore necessary steps of self-defense."
"And neither will the Alliance," put in Udina.
"The evidence you refer to is, of course, the collection of files purporting to show evidence of an imminent Reaper invasion submitted by Commander Shepard," said Velarn.
Udina made a sharp chopping gesture. "It is not 'purported' evidence! Hierarchy and Alliance specialists have independently come to the same conclusions regarding the files' veracity."
"Indeed," said Sparatus. "Surely your own experts have offered their opinions."
"The files themselves may not be fraudulent," allowed Tevos, "but their source is suspect."
Udina sputtered. "This is ridiculous! Blatant speciesism! You cannot dismiss the evidence just because a human has brought it to your attention."
Tevos' lips thinned. "Not 'a human,' Councilor, but Commander Shepard. Although her history of service is exceptional, she has made no secret of her loyalty to human interests first and foremost. Her recent association with a known terrorist organization casts further doubt on her trustworthiness."
Anderson's steady voice interrupted. "Commander Shepard's limited cooperation with Cerberus was done out of necessity rather any agreement with their goals or methods. She is currently spearheading efforts to stamp them out."
"I can testify that Shepard cooperated with Cerberus only in matters dealing with the Collectors," Garrus said. "She actively sabotaged or hindered their other efforts when she encountered them. Several incidents are recorded in the files and can be confirmed by Alliance command."
Anderson sent him a grateful look and nodded. "That is correct."
There was a brief silence, and then Velarn spoke again. "Leaving aside the matter of Commander Shepard's integrity, although the files do appear to be genuine, there is nothing in their contents to suggest a threat is posed to the entire galaxy."
Tevos leaned forward, locked in a stare with Udina. "These attacks have focused on human interests exclusively. We have warned the Alliance to check its expansionist policies before. It is probable, though regrettable, that your unsanctioned colonization of the Terminus has attracted unwelcome attention. As such, this is a human problem, not a Council matter."
"That is demonstrably not the case," interjected Sparatus. He pressed a button on the control panel at his side, and a still image of the dark hulk of Venaxa blinked into existence above the center of the table. "These events were recorded by Advisor Vakarian at a Hierarchy research station on Datriux."
He hit the playback and the room fell silent. Garrus had not watched the recording before. It was a strange feeling to see the same events he'd already experienced unfold from a distance. He tried to view it analytically, looking for things he might not have noticed at the time. There was a low murmur from the other viewers at the sight of Sovereign and the turian husks. Sparatus deliberately paused the recording on a close-up view of the husk body he'd turned over, focusing on the nest of lenses embedded in its face. No one said anything, but the thick silence was telling. All leaned forward to examine the image, Tevos' face neutral, but Velarn frowning. Udina's expression changed hardly at all, though Garrus did not think he'd been informed of events at Venaxa.
After a moment, Sparatus resumed playback, and the video ran to its conclusion with Pallian's apprehension.
"The Hierarchy," Sparatus stated deliberately, "has ample cause to believe the Reapers are a threat to all species."
The silence held for a moment. At last, Tevos spoke. "I was unaware that the Hierarchy had recovered so much of Sovereign."
"Oh, give it a rest, Tevos," said Udina wearily. "I don't doubt we all brought souvenirs home from the clean-up efforts."
Garrus cleared his throat. "I recommend you quarantine any remains you might possess. Our experience suggests that indoctrination can occur very rapidly."
To his surprise, Velarn nodded slowly. "I can verify. The STG has done some work on indoctrination." He met Garrus' eyes directly. "And you believe there was something to Pallian's ranting? They really are coming?"
"If it's a delusion, it's a very specific one that's nonetheless common to all the indoctrinated individuals we've encountered."
Anderson leaned forward and laid his hands on the table. "They're not just coming. They're already here. We intercepted civilian refugee ships fleeing Hegemony space two days ago. Their government's in disarray and their populace is scattered and desperate. Something is happening out there."
Uneasy looks passed around the table. Velarn breathed in and out, once, deeply, before speaking. "Very well. I will support your proposal and I will pass my recommendation along to my government."
Tevos' lips pressed together thinly. "With three Councilors in favor, you will have Council approval to take what measures you deem necessary. You may carry out operations within Council space and you will be offered economic aid as necessary." She sighed and her expression softened into weariness for a moment. "I will also recommend to my government that we take precautionary defensive measures."
Garrus felt a disbelieving lightness fill his chest. This was really happening. The Council would stand behind them. We may actually stand a chance.
Anderson cleared his throat. "There's one other request we'd like to make. We'd like the Council to publicly re-confirm Commander Shepard's Spectre status and acknowledge their support of her actions."
Velarn blinked. "This is an oddly specific request, Admiral."
"Shepard was the first to warn us of the Reapers, and she's the one who's fought them up until now. More than that, she's a symbol people will rally around and fight for. We'll need that. She should be at the forefront of our efforts."
Tevos folded her hands together. "We have agreed that this operation will be a common venture among the Council member species. Would it not be more appropriate to select one of the officers serving in the Citadel fleet?"
Sparatus clicked his mandibles. "What she means to say is that it is unbecoming of the Alliance to capitalize on the impending threat to cement its political position. I agree: this will be a joint operation, and should it be successful, the Alliance will share the credit equally with its allies."
Garrus stared incredulously. "That's ridiculous," he bit out. "It's shooting holes in your armor so your enemy can't have the satisfaction of doing it for you. Shepard understands the threat better than anyone in the Citadel fleet, and the Admiral is right that she's a rallying point. It won't matter if she's politically unpalatable if we lose the war."
"Precisely!" exclaimed Udina.
Velarn frowned. "I understand your point, but it is the Council's responsibility to consider the long-term repercussions of our actions as well as the immediate needs of our members. The balance of power tipped sharply after the invasion of the Citadel. That has led to a rise in anti-human sentiment."
Tevos continued. "Any appearance of the Alliance receiving additional powers or exercising dominance over long-time Council members will have a polarizing effect. Shepard is strongly associated with the Alliance, rather than the Council, in the popular mind."
There was an unhappy silence as Udina and Tevos locked eyes across the table in a stalemate. Finally, Sparatus cleared his throat.
"Perhaps there is another solution. Advisor Vakarian has been nominated for Spectre status." He gave a thin edge of a grin. "Again."
What?, he thought, stunned. Who would have...? His mind flew back to that conversation about desk jobs and restlessness. Damn it. Victus, it had to have been Victus.
Sparatus continued. "He's proven he can work with Shepard and his experience with the Reapers is almost as extensive. Make this a joint operation between two Spectres, rather than an Alliance operation with a token Spectre presence."
Tevos considered, and nodded slowly. "It could work. Hierarchy forces have served as the enforcement arm of the Council for a long time, and the presence of a non-human Spectre should serve to quiet the malcontents."
Anderson gave him a quiet nod. "That would be more than acceptable. Commander Shepard has spoken highly of Advisor Vakarian in the past."
"Understand, Admiral," Tevos said, "this would be a joint venture in fact, not just in name. If we take this route, Advisor Vakarian, or another representative should he choose not to accept, would share the responsibilities of command with Commander Shepard. This mission would answer to the Council, not Alliance command."
Udina's face was pinched and sour, but he exchanged a glance with Anderson and nodded with a sigh. "That is acceptable."
"Very well," said Velarn. "Advisor Vakarian?"
There was a confused roil of emotions boiling in his chest. "I already have responsibilities within the Hierarchy," he said, hardly believing he was hearing the words.
Sparatus interrupted. "Spectre status would supplement those duties, rather than supplant them. Your superiors believed you would be capable of handling the additional responsibility."
"I..." He trailed off, imagining what it would take to coordinate Hierarchy defenses and serve on the Normandy again.
"Take the night to think about it, if you prefer," said Tevos, surprisingly kindly. "It's no small task, but I don't believe there's ever been anyone else nominated for Spectre on three separate occasions. Please give it serious consideration."
He gathered his wits to him and straightened in his seat. "Thank you. I'll let you know my decision tomorrow."
The meeting lasted for a short while after that, the Councilors hashing out tentative details and limits on the cooperation between powers, but Garrus could not focus on it, and was grateful when it ended. He made his way back to the sterile hotel room and sat at the chair in front of the wide window, watching the streak and blur of traffic and trying to think.
When he was younger and his name had first come up for Spectre candidacy, he'd been elated. The ugliness and injustice of some of the things he'd seen in the military had pricked at him, and he'd wanted the ability to do something about them. The life of a Spectre had seemed perfectly suited for that personal ambition. There had also been more than a little ego driving that eagerness - he was good, and he'd known it, and had wanted something to challenge him. His father had headed him off though, had talked him into C-Sec as an alternative that would still challenge him, still let him help people, but wouldn't estrange him from his family. Over time, he'd grown to resent that advice.
The second time his name had been submitted was after the mess with Saren when Shepard had written him a recommendation. He'd thought he had a better idea of what he was in for that time. He'd seen Shepard work, knew that being a Spectre wasn't a license to operate totally without oversight, knew that it was difficult and isolated and short on resources and long on consequences. He'd still wanted to do it. He'd gone back to C-Sec to wait for the verdict, confident that this time, he'd be going into the right career for the right reasons. And he'd still pulled up stakes and left for Omega when Shepard had died and everything had fallen apart.
This time... he wasn't sure. He still wanted it, no question about that. But was he suited for it? He was a capable individual. He knew that and he worked hard for it. But he had a history with responsibility and authority that he was equally aware of. And the specific role that the Council wanted him to fill raised a lot of questions. Maintaining his current position as advisor while serving on the Normandy would be challenging, to say the least. To some extent, he could delegate, and many of the larger projects were already underway and could run without his direct supervision. His team knew what they were doing and he could trust them to handle day-to-day matters without a problem, but it was still a daunting prospect. Then there was the matter of sharing command with Shepard. He'd helped her plan missions and manage the daily routine of the Normandy before, but always as a subordinate. He wasn't honestly sure if he was up to the task of commanding beside her as an equal. Leaving aside the knotty question of ability, it required a certain distance and objectivity, as well as a rapport. Uneasily, he suspected that his relationship with Shepard might make it too easy to compromise that.
There was no room for mistakes here. He'd screwed up badly before, due in large part to his own hubris. If he misjudged his own capabilities now, the consequences were unthinkable.
And despite all that, he wanted, badly, to accept.
He chased his thoughts fruitlessly for a long time, coming to no firm conclusion. He knew there were many, many problems with the idea of becoming a Spectre, but his hindbrain was alight with over a decade of frustrated ambition finally seeing its chance at fulfillment. It was, he feared, too long-held a dream for him to consider objectively. He needed another opinion from someone who could lay out all the logical reasons this wasn't a good idea. He hesitated a long moment, and then, before he could have second thoughts, brought up his omni-tool interface and punched through a call to his father.
"Vakarian."
It was late in Cipritine, but he was not particularly surprised to see that his father was still in his study. He looked startled to see him.
"Garrus. Is everything all right?"
"The Council wants me to be a Spectre," he blurted out.
There was a long, frozen moment where they stared blankly at each other across thousands of light-years. Finally, his father's icy demeanor cracked. Several expressions passed fleetingly over his features, too fast for Garrus to tell what they were. At last, he settled into something like resignation, mandibles slack and eyes half closed.
"Well. I did say that I regretted talking you out of it. Are you going to accept?"
That calm response knocked the breath out of him. He stared momentarily before deciding not to question it. "I don't know," he said, slowly. "I'm not sure it's a good idea."
He father threw him a shrewd look. "You've never expressed hesitancy over a Spectre appointment before," he said, with a faint note of censure hiding in his sub-tones.
"They want me to lead a mission with Shepard, in addition to my current responsibilities. My involvement with Shepard complicates matters. And, well," he said with a self-deprecating laugh, "we both know that I'm not exactly classic command material."
His father considered. "I can't advise you on your relationship with Shepard," he said after a moment, looking intensely uncomfortable. "You're the only one who can judge whether it will be a problem. As for command..." he paused, mandibles flickering in and out. "You're not classic command material." He stopped, examining Garrus minutely. At last he sighed. "I made a lot of mistakes with you and Solana. They seem to all be coming home now."
"Dad..." he began, stunned. His father was a proud man, and it was surreal to hear him admit to a mistake.
"Hear me out," his father interrupted. "You've done a lot of things I don't approve of. I don't pretend to understand exactly why you did them, or how things came to that point, but the fact remains that you did them." He took a breath. "Since you've come home, you've accomplished more than I ever expected of you. I'm proud of what you've done recently, and it's difficult for me to reconcile that with what I know you've done in the past. But regardless of whether or not I approve, you've done what you did competently."
Garrus flinched. "I would hardly call the end of my career on Omega competent."
His father's gaze bored into him. "You misjudged one situation after almost two years of successful high-risk operations in hostile territory. That's dangerously competent." He glanced away. "You're too willing to question orders and take risks to suit a traditional command. But you've already proven yourself as an independent agent. And," he said, with some exasperation, "you seem hellbent on doing it with or without any kind of official sanction." He sighed and met Garrus' eyes again. "Spectre work is not what I would have wanted for you. It's damned dangerous, and there's too much leeway to take the law into your own hands. But you're an adult, and I can't make your choices for you. If you want to do it, I'd say you're capable."
Garrus sat still, mandibles working soundlessly as he strove to take in the enormity of that confession. "Thank you," he said at last. "I... that means a lot, coming from you."
There was an awkward silence between them, and then his father shifted uncomfortably. "Your mother's already in bed, or I'd pass you on to her. But give us a call tomorrow. Regardless of what you decide."
Likely as close to a blessing as his father would ever come. "I will," he breathed, and shook himself out of his daze. "I won't keep you up. Take care of yourself."
"You as well." His father nodded and the connection terminated.
He sat still for a while, a lightness in his thoughts that hadn't been there for some time. The same worries crowded his mind, but they had been unbalanced, tipped over into a new configuration, and he could see parts of them that hadn't been visible before. The prospect of serving as a Spectre in the capacity the Council wanted was no less intimidating. But everyone besides him - even his father - seemed to think it was within his capabilities. And damn it, Victus had been right about him being restless. Maybe this would take the edge off, let him better focus on all his responsibilities.
There was still the matter of commanding with Shepard. But perhaps his trepidation there was unfounded. They were both professionals, and they'd never had a problem working together as soldiers. If things went badly, they were both capable of putting aside personal matters to do what needed to be done. It was uncharted territory, but there was a part of him that wanted to explore that newness with Shepard, to rise to the challenge and learn how to be a partner to her.
And perhaps, he thought, with sudden insight, he owed it to Shepard. She'd taken the Reapers as her personal responsibility almost since he'd known her. She'd been the spearpoint and focus of every action against them. It was a tremendous burden for one person to bear, but maybe here was a chance to take some of the weight off her.
He let the thoughts settle, looked them over thoroughly, trying to judge his own blindspots. There was more than a little nervousness to the decision, but also excitement and a bone-deep sense of purpose and conviction. He opened his omni-tool interface again and typed out a message to Sparatus, read it over and then over again before he pressed 'send.'
Councilor,
I accept the nomination.
-G.V.
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AN: Thanks to Cadmos for beta-reading, and everyone who's reading this.
