To Find The Sea

Part I: The Cruelest Month

Kima District, Omega

"The desire for vengeance is a prickly thing," Shepard had said to Garrus one day in the Normandy's armory. "No matter how justified you are, hubris almost always takes over."

"Wanting justice is hubris?"

"Vengeance and justice are not the same thing. The hubris of revenge is the thinking that somehow you are the one who deserves the satisfaction of dealing it. As though you were the only victim."

"What does it matter? If the scumbag is dead—"

"No one person should ever wield that kind of power."

"Come on, if you get the opportunity to make sure a bad guy never harms anyone ever again you have to take it."

"See that's the thing about the really bad guys: they never stop harming."

The pain that had filled her voice made his soul ache.

"They get caught, they get convicted, they rot their lives away in prison or get executed. You're relieved they won't make anyone else suffer the way you have, but you still have to suffer all the same. Everyday, you live with the knowledge that –"

"Shepard?" he interrupted softly as her lips trembled and water began to pool in her eyes. He wanted to touch her, to still the quaking in her customarily sturdy form. But as soon as he said her name, her surname, it was like she had been lifted out of a trance.

"You're a rare creature, Vakarian. You care about protecting the innocent and punishing the wicked because that's who you are at your very core. People like me? We care because it happened to us."

Garrus had never wished so badly to know the kind of suffering that she did. He wanted her to know she wasn't alone, that he could protect her from the weight of it all, that he had the strength to make things right.

He came crashing out of his memories as he opened the trunk of their rusting yellow car to see the squirming captive. The floor of the stinking compartment was nearly coated with the sebaceous fluids that issued forth from the ghastly burns on his torso.

Melanis grabbed the ropes that restrained the batarian's arms painfully behind his back, pulling him up to his feet. Butler and Sidonis shoved the man towards a lonely creaking chair in the middle of the deserted warehouse. Garrus motioned for them to remove his gag and blindfold while he shone a blindingly bright lamp into his graying face. The batarian's golden eyes squinted uncomfortably. He rolled his head to one side to wipe the drool that had dripped down his chin on the ripped fabric covering his shoulder.

"Kron Harga."

The batarian made no indication he had just heard his name spoken.

"Kron Harga."

Nothing.

"KRON HARGA!"

The predatory tones in Garrus' vocals signaled the return of the beast he had birthed just over a year and a half ago over the corpse of a not so different batarian. It was a ravenous and bloodthirsty animal he had since unleashed a hundred times over.

"What do you want?" he screamed back.

"We want to absolve you of your sins, slaver," said Melanis. The mandibles on his disfigured white face flared in a frightening excitement.

"And who are you to pass judgment on me?"

Harga could make out the silhouette of another batarian at Garrus' side. He recognized that steady gait and the way his arms fell coolly by his side.

"We have been given permission to act on behalf of those you have forced into bondage," came the other batarian's deep and quiet voice. "We will exact the price for your transgressions. Should you choose to aid your soul by confessing to us, we may lessen your pain."

"Grundan Krul…should've known better a self-righteous bastard like you wouldn't die so easily. How many eyes did we leave you with this time? Because I want to pluck the last one out with my bare hands."

The hard kick of Garrus two-toed boot struck Harga square in the chest. The back of his head hit the ground with a wet smack and his legs dangled on the overturned chair they had tied him to.

"Get fucked," the prisoner spat between coughs.

Two hours later, Harga was a mess of blood and broken teeth. Three of his eyes were almost completely swollen shut. His arms impossibly bent. Several of his fingers lay rotting on the dirty warehouse floor beneath him.

Butler gave him another stim injection, trying to keep him awake and coherent. Grundan and Melanis were quietly piecing together the bits of information they were able to extract, discussing their strategy for freeing the unsold slaves in Harga's inventory house.

"Do you think he gave us good intel?" Sidonis asked as Garrus began checking their pistols.

"As good as he has. A lieutenant like that might know a lot, but he's still just a pawn."

"We should let Grundan have this one."

"Its not his responsibility to bear alone. Its all of ours."

"I just thought since they had history, you know."

"I know."

They removed the chair from underneath Harga, forcing him back to his feet and positioned him against the wall. His head drooped lazily and he swayed from side to side. He was aware of what was happening, but vainly fought the blackness that called to him.

I love you, Sarah. IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.