Oh crap! I have got to pack! Kit is the laziest Kit. I have 2 weeks to finish packing and be moved in before a wedding. My attention span just got shot repeatedly – I think I wrote this chapter at least 3 times, tearing it apart each time. I THOUGHT I knew the direction I was taking this story. I apparently have lied. My muse is a small child with ADD who is now running naked down the halls.
GET BACK HERE YOU TERRIBLE MUSE! Get back here and inspire me! … and put on some pants!
There is likely to be an off-shoot to this chapter, entitled 'Meanwhile', that is to the tune of 'what is going on back at Earth...'. Because my attention span isn't short enough as it is.
Limbo
Chapter 10 – Making Collect Calls
5/7/12
Shepard was tucked in Harbinger's data core, lost in her memories and emotions. Her XR had quickly pulled the Commander into his systems and erected barriers and firewalls in the same way a soldier throws himself on top of a grenade to protect the rest of his platoon, shielding the other Reapers from an onslaught of emotions. The gesture was... surprisingly touching...considering his dislike for other Reapers.
However the result was Harbinger was promptly struck off-line by the overwhelming sensations of loss, regret, loneliness and longing that the strange incident with Garrus' voice had caused. The human was in no condition to try to help control it either, each memory cascaded into another and all left her in a state of ennui. Regret laced every memory: 'I wish I had stopped that gunship back on Omega', 'I wish I had the time to take a vacation somewhere with Garrus' … 'I wish I had told him sooner...'
Harbinger was almost addled by the time Shepard drew herself back to the present and exchanged emotion for a numb sensation of logic. The human was just a tiny bit of code in a sea of Reapers... no physical body and no connection to any electronics other than Reaper tech. She was almost convinced it had been her own mind twisting and playing tricks on her. It wasn't like Garrus could have just picked up a phone and called her. But... she had heardhis voice and felt the pass of talons over her shoulder.
"Shepard." Harbinger's toneless rumble caused the air to vibrate.
The woman blinked, tearing herself out of her thoughts. "Harbinger." Her mind had been wandering ever since the strange event occurred. The Reaper got a brief glimpse as a sense of nostalgia hit her.
Recalling memory 29 file: Normandy SR-1, 52.
Wrex had been leaning against the cargo hold wall, a scowl on his face as Garrus and Ashley were trying to hammer a dent out of the Mako. Apparently, the tank did NOT take a Thresher Maw to the hood as well as it mowed over geth. The resulting damage had bounced Wrex around inside the crew hold and added several new dents to the inside of the vehicle as well. Krogan did not like being pinballed around in a tin can.
Shepard had exited the elevator, a handful of ammo mods and an armload of tagged armor attachments to stow in the gear lockers. Wrex, ever a permanent fixture of pissy,watched with a doleful glare as the human walked by.
"Wrex." Shepard nodded to him as she passed.
The krogan hesitated, then tipped his crest towards her. "Shepard." He rumbled, some of the fury fading into a grudging respect. Witnessing the human snipe a oblivious merc at 100 yards with a freaking pistol was something you couldn't help but respect... and pray it never gets aimed at you.
With no other words, Shepard pulled open Liara's locker and attached a few mods to her gear. Then she repeated the attachments to Kaidan's gear as well, adjusting the biotic gear mods and amps. There was a few moments of juggling gear around before the Commander scowled at the lockers. Then pulling an amp out of one of them, she turned and faced the krogan.
"Wrex." There was a calculating look to the human's green eyes. She held out the new amp to Wrex, a model exactly the same as her own with small modifications to allow for krogan use. A small five finger hand dumped in into his wide three fingered palm. Her tone had said 'Looks like you haven't upgraded in a while. Take this.'
"Shepard." If the disgust in his voice was a barrier for biotics, Wrex probably would have been untouchable. 'I don't need a new amp, the old one still worked just fine!'
Shepard cut him off before he even had a chance to start though. "Wrex." The voice held a warning to it. 'Accept it, you fucking stubborn desert gecko!'
There was a sigh, not quite of defeat but certainly of resignation. "Shepard." It held the tone of understanding. When a tiny, squishy human vanguard does almost double the damage as a krogan warlord... perhaps it was time to start upgrading gear. Wrex closed his hand around the amp.
Seeing that, Jane had nodded, slammed a set of incendiary ammo into her own shotgun, closed the lockers, and left the cargo bay. Not a single word spoken to anyone else.
As she entered the elevator, she heard Ashley whisper to Garrus, "What the hell was that? Did they just have an entire conversation... just by saying each others names?" The woman asked, confused.
"I'm not sure... I don't have my translator VI calibrated to 'extreme badass'." Garrus risked a glance at Wrex.
The krogan was grinning at them, his former bad mood dissolved into an air of smugness. "A real warlord says more with just one word than a diplomat says in their entire vocabulary."
"I've heard that before... but I generally thought that meant they actually did use MORE than just that one word." Ashley said, sarcasm on full blast.
Wrex barked with laughter as the elevator doors had closed on Shepard, the woman smiling in amusement at the team.
Harbinger jerked against the connection with Shepard, recovering from the memory like a sleeper waking from a dream. The strongest emotion in that memory had been camaraderie, and unlikely friendship with what should have been a hostile force. The memory's trigger had been the same laconic way Harbinger said her name, and her own lazy reply.
Skimming surface thoughts, Harbinger picked up on amusement from the woman. "Shepard." Her amusement spiked at the similarity to the memory again, and Harbinger countered back with a jab of irritation. "Your presence is required in the Convergence. They request you 'keep your feelings to yourself' though."
"God, I really flipped out there... hear some kind of – of 'thing' and I lose it. And what was that anyway?" Shepard pressed a palm into her forehead, feeling the heavy pressure of Harbinger's mind looming behind her.
Harbinger immediately jerked back, the pressure no longer so strong. He was trying to hide something from her, because his reaction was to immediately present a wave of information to keep her from searching his surface thoughts. "Connection was made." Harbinger said as a means answer her question while not really answering anything.
"With... what exactly?" Shepard asked.
"... sources," was the evasive answer.
Fucking Reapers.
"I'm going to drag the answer from you sooner or later, Harbinger. I can either do it the painless way, or with a lot of hugs and sobbing and cries of 'you are my best friend'... your choice." A smirk curled Shepard's lips, and Harbinger retaliated by shrinking away further.
That had been the point the strange thinningsensation struck again.
'Spirits... we could all use a little help right now.'
Shepard went rigid, her heart now somewhere in the vicinity of her throat as she whirled around. Garrus' voice, again right behind her... and again there was nothing there. Outside of Harbinger's firewalls, the entire Reaper Convergence continued their machinations, mining ores, retrofitting ships, gathering the fleets. None of them seemed to have heard Garrus' voice again.
However, Harbinger certainly noticed. There was an immediate transfer of massive amounts of data, information on the Normandy, calculations to figure titration of acids, and information on power cells, ... all of it just... vanishing, fed out of Harbinger's system.
And then the thinning sensation was gone.
"G-... Garrus?" Jane could not keep the strain out of her voice and it fractured into a whisper. But there was no reply.
Shepard's (virtual) heart was still slamming against her ribs in the sort of way it always did when she still had a body. Everything appeared to be 'back to normal' (or as normal as it got being a Reaper's 'Black Box' system), but Harbinger's firewalls remained up, leaving Shepard's whirling emotions isolated in the XR's systems instead of wreaking havoc with the rest of the fleet.
"What... Harbinger... what did you do?" Shepard was not sure if she was referring to the thinning sensation, or the strange transfer of information that seemed to banish it.
The Reaper was suffering a series of rolling errors - one after another - from Shepard's outburst and it took a minute before the synthetic managed to reboot into a coherent state. Harbinger shuddered, limbs twisting as it came back on-line "I have followed your command. Aid was rendered."
Green eyes flashed in the darkness. "That isn't what I meant. What did you do with Garrus?" It wasn't a question. It was now a threat.
Under a threat from Commander Shepard, only the foolish or suicidal don't flinch. Harbinger was neither. The answer was wary but unyielding. "Nothing. Turian species in Normandy's command requested aid, and aid was rendered. Data packets were sent through the connection to help in the repairs of the Normandy. Upon receiving data, turian severed the connection on his end." Harbinger said, his voice always the dull tone as ever.
There was a pause from the XR as it considered something. "Fruit Basket Incident detected. Reaper presence is discomforting to organics. Organic-Garrus terminated the connection to initiate naked panic."
Bewilderment decked Shepard right in the face. "Did you just... it..." Dumbfounded, she shook her head as her red hair bobbed. "Please don't call it a naked panic or a Fruit Basket Incident. That was just for Blinky's benefit and you know it."
Harbinger rumbled in accord.
In the dark and silence, Shepard could feel Harbinger's presence at her shoulder, looming and watchful. "So... he panicked?" There was a dull stinging sensation in her chest. Another reminder she wasn't human anymore, or even organic.
The pressure of Harbinger's programs lessened. In the place of the heavy pressure, there was a void of anything except the Reaper's voice. "No. It was surprise. Not panic." The Reaper admit. The lack of the normal haze of force was soothing, like the eye of a storm.
"Any clue how he did it? Managed to connect to the Convergence, I mean."
"I would theorize 'by accident'."
"Yeah, sounds about right." Shepard smiled remorsefully. "Which means... he could be calling back later, once he's convinced we don't come bearing Fruit Baskets."
A rumble of agreement from Harbinger and the pressure returned in full force. "Shepard. Your presence is needed in the Convergence."
"No rest for the wicked." She said, wondering if it was possible to feel exhausted as a program. "That goes double for all of you," saying this, Shepard emerged through Harbinger's barriers back into the central Convergence.
Ceph had continued to gather data and immediately turned his giant red eye inwards as Shepard loaded back into the database. There was a rumble of greeting and the faintest sensation of delight admit the heavy pressure as Reaper code moved to integrate with Shepard. It lasted only a single second before the delicate emotion was lost amid the suffocating pressure the elder synthetic radiated.
"Give me the sit-rep, Ceph." Shepard could feel her XR circling her program from afar and the constant stream of data Harbinger sent back. Ceph's own stream of data wasn't nearly as powerful, more like a slow trickle... comparing a dial-up modem to wifi streaming. Outdated and almost obsolete by comparison, Ceph still had more than enough power to rival any human built system.
Data poured into to Shepard's mind. Reaper fleets had begun their endeavor to strip mine all minerals out of unoccupied planets to gather materials to create the new relay pairs. However a large portion of whatever was dug up was actually funneled back in to adjustment the Reapers. With small Oculi ships now zipping about the galaxy gathering data and acting as patrol, they needed to move fast and unseen. Each Oculi was begin retrofitted with heat sink systems, like a small scale model of what the Normandy had. The larger Reapers would simply have to make do lurking and running, but if the patrol ships did their job, they wouldn't have to do more than slowly move out of an area to avoid detection.
Total time until Oculi retrofit was complete: … 20% done already, total project completion 24 hours.
Total time until each estimated mass relay pair was completed: … data not found.
"Harbinger... you BETTER not be moving data again." Shepard growled, searching for the estimated projects results.
The 'Executive Reaper' continued with a general aura of offense, recovering the data from an archived pile. "Shepard-code's search methods are not optimal."
"There is method to my madness... and so help me I'll drive you crazy until you can see it too." In a mood, Shepard arranged the data back where she wanted it.
Total time until each estimated mass relay pair was completed... pre-construction process 10% done. Time estimate until completion... 5 years.
Ceph updated the time estimate from 5 years to 102 years... then a few seconds later to 'yesterday'. Finally the Reaper gave up and changed the information to 'indeterminate'.
Shepard lifted an eyebrow, a smile twisting on her lips. "Ceph?"
"Vectors continuously changing, outgoing repair units compared to in stock materials needed... accurate estimates to be provided once retrofitting is complete." Ceph said, accompanying his deep rumble with a powerful wave of pressure as if to add, 'It'll be done when it's done! Learn some patience. In my day we had to torrent that crap, and it took all week!'
Chuckling, Shepard returned to sifting through data. She found a change in the system that hadn't been there before her sudden break down though. "Harbinger... did you do this?" Touching the updated programming, she found the command gave the order for all Reapers to lock down their weapons unless under the instruction of Shepard-code's command or the XR. If under attack by organic vessels, the first line of defense was retreat, and failing that it was to only disable the attacking ships long enough to escape. Casualties would not be acceptable.
The Second-in-Command Reaper squirmed under her attention. "Yes." He finally admitted. "Reapers are prone to launching missiles at each other before voluntarily repairing another unit."
Shepard glanced over a few flashing requests to 'fire some guns!' that were pending. "Yes... I can see that. You guys aren't mature enough to handle missiles... I can see one Oculi in particular keeps requesting his missile privileges back."
Blinky had taken offense at the lock-down of all weapons, and every five minutes kept pinging the Convergence to 'parole my weapons privileges'. Shepard did have to admit, he had a quad for being such a tiny synthetic.
With all weapons locked down, and a new protocol in place, even if Shepard wasn't fast enough to stop any attack on organics, the new sub-routine made it impossible. "Harbinger... thanks..." And she really meant it. The anger dissipated.
Harbinger only became more uncomfortable now.
"Ah, that's right. You prefer it when I yell." Shepard shook her head, rueful. Then the woman frowned and a line wrinkled between her eyes as she received a ping message. "BLINKY! I see what you are doing there! All requests to fire lasers are to be routed through Harbinger or myself... don't you darerewrite that directory."
It was like trying to herd children. Giant, metal, homicidal children. (Shepard-code:/direct command/designation icon Blinky: Blinky you are now grounded and all flight permissions revoked... return back to a dreadnought for retrofitting!) The Reapers put up no resistance to this lock down of their weapons, but there was a general aura of displeasure at the command.
"Shepard." A sharp Reaper voice spoke in the darkness, Roanoke, the comm system Reaper intruded into the central Convergence with a sense of urgency. Shepard had fallen into the habit of naming Reapers in the same style as Alliance ships, starting with the names Atlantis, El Dorado, Shangri-La, Pompeii, and Roanoke. The only difference between current Alliance naming system and her's was that she named all the dreadnoughts after cities either mythical or long since gone. Waving at Roanoke to continue, Shepard continued to overse the retrofit progress.
"Long range signal detected," The Reaper informed her.
That had completely destroyed any interest she had in the retrofit now. "We're being messaged?" Shepard jerked up, her core suddenly swirling with alarm and excitement.
"No. Detecting long range comm signal to Earth, message intercepted. Signal being patched into network." The Comm Reaper connected the line directly into the database. The airwaves, comm bouys and mobile networks had seen minimal use since Shepard had been mashed into the Convergence. Curiosity bid her to listen.
Her curiosity also spread throughout the entire fleet. Every ship now listened in.
The crew of the Normandy had either roused themselves from sleep or taken a break from their active duty to watch if the outgoing comm message reached anyone. The crowd was restless, an aura of anxiety had it's grasp on them all. The entire crew, minus a very skeleton staff on urgent repairs had gathered in what was now the impromptu center commons area. While Traynor set the quantum communicator message out, Garrus went to go find Javik and ask him about the –
– the sphere he had left inside the ship... well dammit. Suiting back up and finding the prothean sphere when the comm might go live at any moment didn't sound so promising. There was no way he was missing this. Garrus resolved to ask Javik about it later but he set about looking for the prothean anyway. Liara was bound to be near him and Garrus had always felt protective over the asari who had been so timid and awkward on board the first Normandy.
Joker's running bet on the when the two of them were going to shack up might have had something to do with it.
Reaching the commons area, Garrus balked at the sight of Javik and performed a double take when Liara sat up straight so he could see her. The prothean was smeared with mud, his red armor almost burgundy with the dark stains. At least one of his four eyes was swollen nearly shut, and tiny scratches marred that side of his face. Liara wasn't in much better shape. Rather than being caked with mud, she was dusted with dirt and long grimy handprints on the thighs of her white body armor seemed to be the result of wiping her hands clean on her clothes.
...Except Liara didn't have long, three-fingered hands, judging by the prints on her clothing.
'No, no killing teammates, even if they probably deserve it. Shepard would never forgive me if I went down as the person who finished off the prothean race.'Fists balled tightly and jaw locked, Garrus tried to put on a normal expression as he approached. 'Maybe they are just accidental handprints. Yep. Totally on accident. Social faux paux or something... Spirits, I'm in denial.'
"So... good trip?" Garrus asked, hoping he wasn't going to have to go strangle a prothean.
Liara sighed, rubbing at her scalp. "Well... there was one landslide, which dumped all our gear into what ended up being a muddy sink hole. It rained down there... and I can see you didn't so much as get a cloud over here, just ten miles away. We discovered a hostile form of ant-like insect, it declared war on the comm system wires and had to be destroyed. Oh yes, and Javik triggered another landslide... this one buried him andour gear." Liara's voice rose in pitch until she was probably a few minutes from a nervous breakdown herself.
Javik didn't so much as glare at this outburst. He just sat calmly, watching Garrus with his gold eyes. It was odd to see the prothean so... passive (if radiating a general aura of fury could be 'passive' in his case).
Logic decided to throw Garrus a bone and he quickly realized the muddy hand prints on Liara was probably just because they kept digging their equipment out of soft earth? And the muddy armor was due to being swept into another landslide, most likely. The tension in Garrus' shoulders relaxed a bit, his mandibles loosening to a more social position.
With the threat of punching a lecherous prothean over, Garrus resorted to teasing Liara. "So... I'll take it you didn't bring me anything?" Garrus reached up to dust the side of his gloved hand against Liara's head, knocking loose a clod of dirt.
Liara gave an undignified sound in response. "I just want to be awake for this comm signal back to Earth... then go rinse the surface of planet Normandy out of my scalp and go to sleep."
"Planet... Normandy?" Garrus had a feeling it wasn't Liara's name. He looked over at Javik.
The prothean shrugged. "Normandy is the human flagship, the vital spear that struck at the Reapers. It would be an honor for this planet to be named as such."
Garrus could read between the lines. "Protheans rename every planet they land on then?"
"Naturally." Javik said, his accent thick but calm.
"Oh, bet Liara loved that conversation." Garrus' right mandible twitched outwards in a grimace. Liara's glare told him as much. "Well, I'll warn EDI about the electrical system devouring ants."
"And warn Joker about the fruit." Liara called, slumping against the ground curling her arms around her knees as her back slumped against Javik's legs. The prothean made no move to push her off, simply standing firmly in place so she could use him as a back rest.
Garrus paused, one eye narrowing. "Fruit?"
Liara opened her mouth to explain, and quite unexpectedly flushed lavender and went rigid. "Just... don't eat the native fruit. There's a... reaction." At this, three of Javik's eyes widened slightly, and he turned to pointedly stare out in the opposite direction. The prothean's hands twitched, and he quickly folded his arms. Strange... but Javik's arms were scored with tiny scratches as well... but most of these ended in little half moon lines shaped like...
...little asari fingernails...
Garrus was sure that shock had managed to freeze him before his jaw fell open or his mandibles went slack. '… well... dammit. There goes THAT mental image.' Joker was probably going to be pissed to see his pool had failed. Liara jumping Javik had NOT been a part of the bet. Deciding to leave that conversation for a whole different mess of awkward, Garrus decided to take a leaf out of Alenko's book and 'play dead'... or at least stupid. A strategic retreat brought him to the safety of the quantum comm system.
A hailing message had been sent out about five minutes before, a generic 'we're about to call you, please standby' broadcast to prepare the receiving party. Joker once said the message sounded like old Earth telemarketer calls, only without trying to sell you stuff during dinner. Static filled the comm panel, not even enough of a signal to craft any sort of image of the other end of the communicator. Traynor adjusted the signal again, frowning at the panel. This time color added itself to the static, but it remained broken and snow filled distortion.
"What if you hit it really hard?" Vega gestured towards the machinery. "Esteban does that sometimes, starts working again. He can punch some sense into machines."
"Where was Cortez's magical fist when we were shooting Reapers?" Garrus seated himself on a supply crate, his feet aching from the long shift.
Cortez was flopped over on a empty crate, his immobilized leg raised to take the weight off of it. "There is only so much common sense I can punch into machines. I can't fix crazy." Cortez snorted.
The static gathered, it was definitely a figure now and a big one at that. Heavy and repetitive sounds were coming from the comm, like a record skipping in place and repeating the same part over and over.
"EDI?" Traynor called out, even as the AI took her place beside the comm and started fine-tuning the signal. "Thanks." The combat team was silent, watching as the image flickered between clearing up and dissolving all together.
"-epard?" Static ate most of the sound, but the voice was male and booming. Krogan. Then, another word made it through, "-Battlemaster." At that one word, the entire crew knew exactly which krogan it was. Grunt.
Almost immediately, the static cut in half and a glowing blue hologram in all the krogan's likeliness stood in the center of the display plate. Grunt's bright blue eyes were almost white in the blue projection, his silver armor dancing with static. The young male's eyes widened and his pupils contracted to a tight band when he finally saw who was sending the signal.
"Ha. Hahaha! I knew it!" Grunt roared, throwing both arms into the air and then slamming his head forward as if to headbutt something. "I told them the Normandy was fine." Grunt's unfused crest was adorn with several claw marks as if he had been swarmed by husks and simply shaken them off. His armor had definitely seen better days, with one of the shoulder pauldrons completely gone and a bevy of dings and dents marring the rest. The odd thing that caught everyone's attention was the new 'gear' Grunt was wearing on his back.
… if 'Small Children' were now a fashion trend, that is.
"Grunt... you seem to have acquired a human kid from somewhere." Tali cocked her head, her hands meeting to begin the familiar wringing gesture.
The krogan looked over his shoulder, as if this was news to him as well. The child's hair and eye color couldn't be made out through the blue tint of the hologram, but both appeared the same shade of brilliant blue in the hologram as Grunt's armor. She was young, perhaps six or so, but appeared to be in good shape considering the synthetic apocalypse that had just mowed over Earth. One of the kid's hands was clutching the remaining shoulder guard with her other was trying to grasp at his forehead plate to keep herself tossed over his hump.
Grunt simply made eye contact with the girl and then nodded. "Yeah. Earth's full of these things. The small ones managed to hide from the Reapers... we keep pulling them out of odd places. Found this little pyjak eating my food out of my backpack. I think I'm going to keep her." The krogan had a wide grin splitting his face.
The child copied him, missing a few front teeth but trying to show all of them and her gums in the typical krogan 'smile'.
"Y-you're going to keep her?" Kaidan's voice rose to the level of alarm. He wouldn't wish a child on a krogan ever... it was like giving a krogan instructions on building a rocket and hoping they didn't fuck it up somehow. The entire krogan race seemed prone to aiming the rocket at themselves than into space. Giving a teenage krogan a defenseless human child? … not going to win any awards on whosoever idea that had been.
"Yeah, I like this one. She's clever. I think I'll name her Shepard." Grunt was staring straight at Kaidan, the challenge coming across even through a blue glowing hologram – 'and what are you going to do about it?'
Garrus felt a shiver, standing just a bit straighter. He knew people were going to be naming their kids after Shepard... hell, Jacob was busy trying to talk Brynn Cole out of it. But seeing the very fact right front of him that he would forever be hearing people call Shepard's name...
EDI spoke quickly, before an argument broke out over the comm, "You are aware that human children come with names pre-installed?"
The news took Grunt by surprise. Twisting his neck to look up at his hump, Grunt jostled the child on his shoulder. "Pyjak... what's your name?"
The child gave him the best krogan grin she could manage. "Pie-jack!" she replied.
"Close enough!" Grunt shrugged, jostling the child again. Reaching over his shoulder and grasping futilely a few times, he finally managed to catch the girl by the back of her jumper, hauling her off his shoulder and to the ground. "Go find the clan leader... and that old human warlord if you can."
'Pyjak' (or mini-Shepard) gave a little hop, unsteady on the ground, and bolted from the room.
"Ok... anyone who said they were worried about krogan eating everyone else for food... I think you lose that argument. Grunt's totally keeping that one, and I think he's going to give Jack a run for her money on 'defending his kid with crazy'." Joker whispered, nudging James. The marine grumbled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a candy bar as the betting fee. The pilot tucked the bar away, smug grin firmly in place.
"Where the hell are you? All we had to go on was signals that the Normandy turned tail right before the Reapers did and you all vanished." Grunt was looking at Garrus, not Alenko. "Where is Shepard?"
Ice formed in the pit of Garrus' stomach. That... as the very last thing he wanted to hear. He had wanted to hear that Shepard was forming survival groups on Earth, or even at the very least recovering in a hospital. Hearing the Shepard was MIA...
"She made it on board the Citadel... haven't you managed to get onboard it yet?" Alenko's hand pushed at Garrus' arm, shifting him out of Grunt's view as if it would end the turmoil.
Grunt snorted, looking frustrated even by krogan standards. "It's a blood soaked mess up there. We're still trying to identify humans. … Found Anderson though. He didn't make it." Remorse was not a krogan emotion, but the young male lowered his eyes, bowing his head slightly. The chain of command meant anyone who respected Shepard respected her superiors as well, and Grunt knew that Shepard's Battlemaster was a man who deserved it all on his own.
The crew of the Normandy all fell silent.
"Found the Illusive Man too." Wrex's deep voice rumbled off-screen, the hologram expanding as the krogan vanguard stormed onto the display disc. The little 'Pyjak' came in his wake, tossing herself straight back at Grunt as the younger male yielding his position to the clan leader. "Someone got him with a pistol. Not Shepard's normal MO, but figure this might mean something to someone."
In Wrex's oversized hand sat the Last Escape. The tiny pistol Garrus carried but never used, and had given to Shepard in lieu of being unable to come with her himself. All the mods were still carefully in place, all of them illegal by council law as well... not that it meant much on Omega when it had first strapped it on.
Garrus didn't stay to hear anything else.