Author's Note
Welp, I've got nothing done here. First the wait for news on ME3, then the friggin' FemShep Trailer? Productivity, killed. I'm definitely not finishing this in the 20 or so days before the 6th. THAT DOESN'T MEAN I QUIT. I'm getting this done if it kills me. Which it won't. Because it's just bits of data. Lovingly crafted bits of data.
Ooh, and that thing at the end? Yeah, OC nonsense. Cerberus shenanigans. My own canon. I've gotta have something cool to run with after I finish the ME1 arc, right?
Yeah, I don't own anything here, blah blah blah standard disclaimer. If BioWare was out for copyright infringement on these fics, We'd be out of business.
Chapter 10
April 21, 2183
Normandy SR1
Upper Atmosphere, Therum, Knossos System
"Comm check," Ashley Williams said into her helmet's microphone, to which the other three figures packed into the small area tapped their own links.
"This is going to be a hot drop, Commander. The area around Dr. T'Soni's last known location is covered in IR signatures."
"Got it Joker," Shepard said, settling into her seat in the cramped confines of the Normandy's M-35 Mako IFV. Garrus was settled into the pilot's seat, readying for the drop. Ashley and Kaidan were already strapped into the rear of the vehicle.
"Commander, I think this is yours," Kaidan said, handing her a shiny new M-23 shotgun.
She took it and slapped it against the magnetic slot on her back before pulling her own restraints tight.
"Drop zone is twenty clicks out. I'm already getting the first of the welcome basket."
In case there was any question, the ship rocked suddenly, hit by Geth anti-air. Shepard tapped a recessed button on the side of her helmet.
"Get us in there, Joker. Hate to keep those Geth waiting."
Garrus tapped the ignition and the Mako's oversized Eezo core turned over, humming softly through the cabin. The hangar doors opened and the scorching atmosphere of Therum howled inside like a hurricane.
"I should probably tell you, Commander. This is my first drop in a human vehicle," Garrus growled over the comm channel.
"Now you tell us this?" Ashley shouted incredulously from behind Shepard.
Shepard's heart beat twice as fast.
"Here's the DZ. Hope you have a pleasant stay," Joker called over the radio.
Garrus punched the accelerator and the Mako plunged through the open door. Shepard's heart jumped into her throat as she grabbed her restraints with white knuckles. Garrus calmly tapped a few buttons and the vehicle leveled out in Therum's turbulent clouds.
Shit shit shit Shepard thought, her mind once again flashing to flames and impact.
As they hit the minimum safe altitude, Garrus hit the jets and Shepard slammed against her seat. The Mako dropped to twenty meters, and Garrus let off the thrusters, letting the oversized shock absorbers take the rest of the drop.
"Not bad for your first drop," Kaidan said from the back seat, patting Garrus on his armored shoulder. Shepard released the death grip she had on her chair and began breathing normally again.
"You okay, Commander?" Ashley offered.
"I never liked re-entry."
"That's what she said, Commander," Garrus said suddenly.
All three humans stared at the Turian, but he never got to answer their unspoken question. The Mako jolted to the side, its shields drained to half by a Geth siege pulse cannon.
February 4, 2185
Normandy SR-2
Dock 15A, Omega, Sahrabarik System
Shepard sat at her desk, looking forlornly at the small model of her ship hanging in the display case in front of her. She was deep in thought when the door to the captain's cabin whooshed open softly.
"Shepard?"
Shepard twitched slightly, startled out of her reverie. She turned to find her favorite Turian standing in front of her. The left side of his face was covered in bandages, and he seemed to stand as though his entire side hurt.
Which it probably did.
"Garrus! You're ok!"
Shepard impulsively leaped from her chair and grabbed the startled Turian around the waist, pulling him into a hug.
"Shepard, what are you...?"
Shepard immediately released her friend, who stared quizzically back. Shepard took a quick step away.
"Sorry, Garrus," she said, blushing. "I was worried. It's my damn fault you got hit."
"And it's my damn fault I was even there. I should have seen it coming, Shepard."
They walked over to the small sitting area, and Garrus settled stiffly onto the couch across from Shepard.
"You should have seen the mercs coming? Weren't you the reason they were there in the first place?"
"Not exactly. After you disappeared, I re-enlisted with C-Sec. I remembered what you taught me about the greater good and thought it would give me purpose. Something good for the galaxy."
His expression changed to one of anger; regret.
"But time and time again they buried me in red tape. I couldn't handle it after all the freedom with you. I quit."
He hung his head in shame and stared at his pointy Turian knees.
"Garrus, you can't just quit when things don't go your way," Shepard said, pouring two glasses of water.
Garrus gave her a funny look and took one.
"I went to Omega. It's a shithole filled with the worst criminals in the Terminus Systems. I figured all I had to do was start shooting and I'd be doing the galaxy a favor. Turns out there were other people with the same idea. We started a little mercenary band of our own and made life hell for Omega's gangs."
"And they managed to corner you?"
"Someone tipped them off. I left to go after a lead on the Blue Suns, and when I came back, my team was dead and I was surrounded. I had been there for three days when you found me."
"Who tipped the gangs off?"
"That bastard, Sidonis," Garrus snarled, fire in his eyes and poison in his words.
"Sidonis?"
"He was my support specialist. Never met a chaingun he couldn't make magic with. When I got back, his corpse wasn't among the dead." Garrus looked over at Shepard's empty fish tank as if trying to ignite it.
"How do you know he wasn't killed too?"
"He pulled his share of our credits out two days before the battle. I didn't think anything at the time, but now I know the asshole sold us out. I lost everyone but him that day, and now I'm going to find him and fix that."
February 4, 2183
Laboratory
Unidentified Research Base, Deep Space
The man on the table twitched suddenly. The white-gloved scientists around him immediately sprang to work, their attentions focused on his rapidly increasing heart rate. The body on the table was barely functional, yet somehow it lived. As the scientists whirled around his prone form, the man's vital functions slowly began their return. His heart, half replaced with tubing and silicon, began a steady thumping, while his lungs, both artificial, slowly filled with the station's Nitrogen/Oxygen mix. As neurons fired down the length of his spinal tissue, the electrical impulses of his being passed unhindered through flesh, bone, metal, and circuitry. Despite the extensive damage and years of being dead, here he was, miraculously alive. The lead scientist, a balding man in his early sixties, tapped this note into his datapad and flipped the message offscreen with a swipe of his fingers, where it was routed through hundreds of encryption and decryption algorithms before finally arriving at its destination, a space station five hundred light years away.
The man who received it flicked his wrist in an almost dismissive manner as the message appeared on one of his many screens. The message was clear; concise.
Lazarus is a success. James Cook is alive.
He smiled almost imperceptibly, and reached for the glass of bourbon on the arm of his chair.