Her eyes were like stone as she surveyed the large expanse of flat land before her; lightly tanned knuckles were white from clenching the steering wheel of the Mako as hard as she was. Normally plush lips were unusually thin; her brows were knit together in consternation and formed hard lines around her eyes. Her helmet, thrown on haphazardly when she scrambled excitedly into the Mako, wasn't facing forward and her eye was partially blocked by the solid material it was made from. Despite the discomfort that must have caused, she made no move to correct it: her focus was unable to be drawn away from the level ground that lay before the front wheels of their vehicle.
Neither he nor Ashley knew why she had ceased her joyride, one that had caused him and Williams a great amount of discomfort and nausea. She seemed to be taking pleasure in watching them squirm, cackling every once in awhile at their complaints about her driving capabilities. She had even stopped to admire the constant meteor showers that made this planet rather unique among other planets in the solar system - Edolus' only redeeming quality. Despite the sand and boring colors, the burning fall of the celestial objects was enough to capture the attention of Shepard - and that was no small feat.
Now, though, her interest was solely on the ground and would fasten to nothing else. She did not respond to their questions. After Garrus asked a few times about why they were parked in the middle of nowhere he found himself on the receiving end of a distinct shushing sound that told him to be quiet. Not sure if he should be annoyed or curious, Garrus decided to just sit back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, and look out the window.
There was nothing to look at, though. A great area of land lay before them, uninterrupted by hills or mountains. It was sand as far as the eye could see with small peaks rising in the distance. Bright flashes of light illuminated the horizon on occasion, displaying even more bland landscape for them to take in, but it wasn't this that Shepard was looking at.
Garrus strained to look in the direction that she was observing, only now noticing the irregularly-shaped object that lay at the far edges of this clearing. He checked his map and, after a very quick calculation, determined that it was certainly the anomaly that Shepard had been chasing down with such wild abandon. Now, though, she was hesitating to go forward. Why?
Movement on her part drove his eyes to her hands. Humans had a delicate bone structure to begin with, but it was especially evident in their hands. She wasn't like Ashley, who was curvy and sturdy with a layer of muscle beneath. Shepard was full of sinewy strength, far more graceful than Williams on the field, and yet she could pack a punch that would be hard for most to rival. Had she been a turian, or had Garrus been a human who didn't know Shepard's prowess, then Garrus' instinct to protect such a seemingly-fragile creature probably would have gone into overdrive.
This, however, was Shepard. She was more than capable of protecting herself, of killing anything in her path, and blowing the hell out of everything that remained. In fact, she made a habit of doing those very things on a daily basis. The last thing she needed was an instinctually-driven turian hovering over her at every turn.
Especially not when she was reaching for her gun, like she was doing now.
Those hands hovered over her pistol for several seconds, her pupils shrinking into dangerous pinpricks. She made to grab it, then seemed to decide otherwise at the last second, instead opting for her rarely-used assault rifle. It had been given upgrades that most soldiers would be envious of, turning a regular AR into an all-out killing machine, but despite how obvious of a fit it seemed to be for her, Garrus had yet to see her use it. She preferred her pistol and her punches, or the occasional kick to the groin. Not an assault rifle.
"Shepard, what's—"
"Quiet."
Her eyes still locked on the anomaly, she slowly slid her free hand towards the latch on the door. A single pull opened the steel doors, exposing Shepard to the blowing sands outside. She cast a glance about at her environment then stepped out of the Mako. She motioned for Garrus to take the front seat, and as he obeyed her orders Shepard readied nearly a dozen clips and placed them in an easy-to-reach pocket on her belt.
Garrus reached a hand out to grab her arm before she could turn to walk away. "What the hell is going on, Shepard?"
She didn't say much. Instead she gestured around to the area they were in. "Thresher Maws," she said coldly, an alien wrath igniting her eyes into flames. "Looks like their territory." She pursed her lips in distaste and her hands clenched around her gun. "Drive forward, draw it out, then run like hell to get away. Simple plan. I expect it to be done flawlessly."
"We could do this with you in the car," Garrus said. "Or we could not do this at all. Killing a thresher maw isn't exactly on today's to-do list."
Her head turned towards him, looking at him as if she didn't quite understand who he was or why he was giving her such dumb suggestions. She was in another place, another time, and he wasn't welcome there. "Destroying these things are always on my to-do list." She shuffled her arm out of his grasp, adjusted the rifle in her hands, rolled her neck. "Just try not to get killed in the process. I don't have time for any more funerals." Her odd smirk came back, but it wasn't filled with the normal comical crookedness. It was empty and hollow, like the dark space of the universe.
The next thing Garrus saw was her back and swaying hips, strong legs carrying her towards the anomaly in the distance. Her gait was slow, her gun was raised, and she looked very much like she would snap at the slightest of noises.
Garrus looked towards Ashley, hoping for some insight as to what was going on. Maybe this was a human thing? Were there thresher maws on their planet that tended to eat up villages or something?
Ashley's eyes shone with sympathy before she gave a minute shake of her head. "Akuze," she said quietly, as if that was enough of an explanation for anyone. Though he recognized the name of the planet and remembered from his brief searches on Shepard that something big had gone on there, he had to admit that the details currently escaped him. He could say nothing to Ashley, nothing that would signify that he understood, but he didn't wish to look like a fool and admit his ignorance. Instead he shifted the Mako into drive and pressed down on the gas pedal, quickly overtaking Shepard and shooting past her towards the object in the distance.
I can't believe I'm doing this. If there is a thresher here, we're all dead. Shepard better know what she's doing.
Williams readied the machine gun despite her voiced opinion that there didn't seem to be anything unusual in the area. They drew nearer and nearer to the anomaly with no sign of any giant worm readying its strike. Garrus was well within fifty feet, thirty feet, fifteen –
Then the earth ripped apart.
A snake from the bowels of Hell tore out of the gaping hole it had created. It was huge, bigger than anything he had ever seen before, with a gaping maw that could swallow the Mako whole. Not expecting it to have appeared so suddenly, or so close, Garrus couldn't help but swear as he swerved quickly to the side to avoid a head-on collision with its massive body. Williams tried to shoot at it, and she even managed to fire a missile off in its direction, but it didn't even seem to faze the monster that rose like a tower in the air. It kept roaring into the sky, towards space, outraged at their trespass.
A ninety degree turn led them away from the Maw and towards a clear area that should have brought them to safety. Ashley kept shooting; the smell of metallic bullets and gunpowder molested Garrus' nose and the god-awful sound of the gun and the beast's shriek of rage assaulted his hearing.
It climaxed to the point where he thought he would go deaf from the high-pitched scream of bullets being forcibly ejected from a metal cylinder. He didn't know if his ears could take it, and he wasn't sure how he felt about losing one of his favored senses. He wanted it to stop, but if it stopped then Shepard could be put in danger or they could be in harm's way. It couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, not while Ashley was manning the guns…
But it did stop, unexpectedly and seemingly without cause. He assumed that the beast was felled and he felt shocked and thankful all at once. "Got it?"
Ashley's expression of fierce concentration warned him that things were not as he thought. "No, I don't know where—"
The ground trembled beneath them, shook and shivered violently, then tore apart only a few meters away. Garrus' hands clenched around the wheel and jerked it to the side yet again to avoid hitting it. With his attention solely on the road, Ashley was his eyes and ears when it came to what the thresher maw was doing. She let out a strangled cry before yelling for him to go, go faster, to hurry up and why the hell was he going so slow?
The Mako tipped, favoring Ashley's side. A vile stench met both of their noses, one of venom and bile and rotten meat. Garrus managed to right the car again but not before noticing that some of the toxic venom had eaten through the car, making a small hole in the metal. He swore when Ashley warned him of another incoming attack and he tried his damndest to avoid this one. Somehow he managed to skate away from the main glob of goo but he hadn't counted on the splatter effect. More of it splashed on the Mako, some even shooting through the previously made hole and onto Garrus' armor.
There was no time to think of the melting capabilities of the toxic goo that was sizzling through high-performance plastic and metal. He ordered Ashley to shoot mercilessly, which she did for a few seconds until all the sensors started blaring at them because the machinery was overheating. Offensive capabilities currently at a standstill, Garrus had no option but to turn to evasive maneuvers. All Garrus could do was try to strafe around the worm while looking for a way to reach an exit, per Shepard's orders.
Nobody expected to see Shepard arrive to the scene on foot, panting heavily from the heat and the long run she had to make. She kept a safe distance from the pissed maw, but considering she was on foot and without the Mako's protection her distance made little difference. One shot from the thresher maw, one well-aimed attack, and she was done for.
Garrus tried to ensure that the thresher's attention was on him and not Shepard, but Shepard's barrage of bullets in the worm's direction did nothing to assist his efforts. The fact that she was also circling along the same path of the Mako forced Garrus to stop and consider other methods of distraction, which included parking and firing in the hopes that it would provide an easy target for the maw to chase after. Neither of these methods worked, since now the thing was mostly concerned with the annoying, non-stop volley coming from the miniscule human at its base.
It burrowed down again and all was deathly silent once more. Even from this distance, Garrus could see Shepard's helmeted head swiveling around madly, searching hard for her escaped prey. Her head stopped, aiming towards their car, and then their comm system crackled into life.
"Get the hell out of there!"
It wasn't Shepard's voice that cried over their communication systems, but rather the two-timbered shout of Garrus. He was on the edge of panic as he saw the ground rise, almost imperceptibly, near Shepard's feet. He didn't know if she could feel it or not but he wasn't going to give her the benefit of the doubt this time around.
Not when it mattered so much.
She heeded his warning and tumbled to the side, not managing to gracefully catch herself like she usually could. She stumbled before regaining her feet, an action costing her precious seconds that she could have used to run like mad to save her very mortal life. Still, she burst into a wild dash that took her just out of reach of the maw's entryway. Once surfaced, it was less than twenty feet away from where Shepard was – and it was facing her, mouth ajar, all too aware of her presence.
Sprinting still, she tried to get further from her spirited foe. Williams was shooting goddamn missiles again between bouts of machine gun fire while Garrus slammed the pedal of the Mako down onto the ground in an attempt to get between the maw and the commander.
He couldn't get there in time.
It spit, sending another ball of acid at the ground. This time, though, it wasn't aimed at their vehicle; rather, it was at Shepard. Somehow she found enough stamina to go into an all-out sprint that carried her just beyond the main blast, but that damn splatter still got to her. She fell to the ground, grasping her arm, and from this distance it didn't look good.
But she wasn't about to go down without a fight: her pride demanded more from her than that. Her main arm was compromised so instead she lifted her gun with her left hand. She stood, though her stance was uneven, and unleashed another stream of bullets while circling tight around the maw. Her movement was slow, irregular – her leg was limping behind her and her right arm was only useful to help cradle the bottom of her gun.
Still she soldiered on.
Being so close to the maw made it hard for it to attack her properly, so Shepard was given the advantage there. The attacks from the Mako were helping, too, and the thresher's attention seemed torn between the tiny soldier at his feet and the larger threat of the Mako in the distance. It turned long enough to survey its metallic enemy that was perched on a slight hill and opened its mouth to ready another projectile of spit.
It never got the chance to follow through.
Shepard, out of bullets in her sixth clip, yanked out another and thrust it into her rifle. She ripped through the maw with this set, having softened its armor enough with all her attacks earlier, and the maw let out an ear-piercing scream that signaled its defeat. Rather unceremoniously it fell to the ground, limp and unmoving, with Shepard glaring at it from its side.
While Garrus stomped on the accelerator to reach Shepard more quickly, he saw her load another fresh clip into her rifle. He heard the gunshots reverberate through the desolate landscape and he wondered if she thought the maw still lived.
He pulled up to the side and, without coming to a complete stop, Garrus opened the door and hopped out, jogging to remain upright. While approaching the Commander he saw Shepard's gun run out of ammo and, despite this, she was still holding the trigger in. She pressed the trigger for a full five seconds before reloading it, an action that she performed without blinking.
So many rounds wasted on this dead thing, but Shepard didn't care. Normally she was so careful with her ammo, aware of how it was used so that she wouldn't have to waste it, and yet here she was…
Garrus stood by her, glancing sideways in her direction. Even beneath the helmet he could see how her face was contorted in an unbecoming expression of the purest rage that he had ever seen.
For once he understood what it must be like to be her enemy. Those who crossed her ended up like this thresher maw – deliberately drawn out and hunted so it could die a brutal death in the way that she deemed appropriate.
Then his eyes fell on her arm and leg and his breath caught in his chest.
The acid had melted through her armor despite the thickness of the material. Some of it even managed to reach her skin, which explained the limping and the usage of her left hand – those parts affected were raw, with deep gouges burned into her flesh with shining blisters already forming around the main wound. Other parts of her skin nearby seemed to be…bubbling. He didn't know how long it would keep eating away at her and he wasn't about to find out.
"Shepard."
His forceful tone didn't reach her. The bullets kept coming, and when one clip was emptied it was tossed to the ground to be replaced by another. If her weapon overheated, the safety locks would kick in though she paid that no heed, either. Her finger pulled the trigger back at all times, waiting for all the bullets to empty before she moved again.
The head of the maw was riddled with holes: it was a gory mess by this point, but it didn't stop her. The brains splattering her armor, her raw skin and the fetid stench of dead thresher and burning flesh didn't bother her in the slightest. She never even flinched at the incessant ringing of bullets through the air.
"Shepard," Garrus tried again, raising his hand to rest on her back. She forcibly pushed him away and finished off the bullets that she had, then reached into her pockets to search for more. She came up empty-handed after having used up everything she had. She didn't know what to do then, so she opted for hitting the thing's eye with the butt of her rifle, venting her hurt and anger in the only way she seemed to know how.
This action was more than her new wounds could handle. He watched as her burns stretched to their limit before splitting even more, bleeding more profusely and inviting all sorts of infections into her system. He knew she'd be pissed if he interrupted her again but he also didn't want her to bleed out because he was too afraid of a punch to the face. Left with little choice, Garrus used his strengths to his advantage: superior might and his skills in hand-to-hand were used to disarm Shepard, a skill he was clearly superior in so long as he wasn't surprised.
She turned on him, her countenance so serious that he thought he was looking upon Death herself. She was stony still, barely breathing, and the look she gave him was icier than any planet he had yet traversed. He didn't know what to expect, wasn't sure if she was viewing him as a concerned friend or an enemy that needed to be destroyed. He felt like the Shepard he knew was gone and replaced with a murderous maniac that had never considered him to be an ally.
Her eyes never left him, not even when she slowly raised her hand to activate her comm to call for Joker. Then, with a low growl, she told Garrus to get into the shuttle.
He obeyed without a word, thankful that his life had been spared and that she had, at least, stopped wasting precious bullets on an already dead foe. He quickly made his way back to the car and ignored Ashley's wide, helmeted eyes. His own gaze was downcast as Shepard reentered the Mako and prepared for liftoff.
An hour of thick silence crawled by. They were now sitting in the shuttle, flying through space towards their prized ship so that they could heal up and try and relax or, in Garrus' case, try and figure out what the hell happened with the thresher maw and Shepard.
Shepard sat opposite of the other two and was doing her best to ignore both. Ashley, for her part, was being smart and was either sleeping or pretending to sleep to avoid the uptight atmosphere. Garrus was far from tired and kept his eyes glued on the scene of stars swirling past them.
His mind kept replaying what he had seen earlier, mostly the look on Shepard's face as she beat the maw beyond its death. It had distressed him in a way that he didn't understand, possibly because he had only ever envisioned Shepard as the disturbingly chaotic and overly-outgoing Commander and friend that he had encountered so far. This was a new side to her, one that he hated to see and hoped to never see again.
Damage had also been done to their friendship, of that he was sure. The hate-filled glare she gave him was an indication that he had not done the right thing by interrupting her, but what else could he have done? Sat by and watch her destroy herself?
His eyes traveled to her to assess the harm on her body but he froze when her dark depths of green pinned on to him. Something he didn't understand was bubbling beneath the surface, wanting to burst out of its confines to express itself, but she managed to withhold the biting words this time around. "You're hurt," she stated bluntly, nodding towards his chest and arm. He looked down, mildly surprised to see acid wounds that were similar to Shepard's on his arm, though they were to a much lesser extent. He hadn't noticed them before, during all the chaos and action and thinking.
"Looks like we have a matching pair." He tried to make his words sound playful. It didn't work.
She grunted a little, turning her head away to look out the window. Garrus sighed but didn't bother to voice his frustrations. He knew he'd receive nothing but the silent treatment for a few days, at the least.
Given that those were his thoughts, he was rather shocked when he saw Shepard grab a tube of medi-gel and change her seat so she was sitting next to Garrus' injuries. She was limping and her range of movement seemed limited, but her stubbornness prevailed.
"You're a goddamn stupid turian," she hissed quietly so Williams wouldn't wake. "I mean, disarming me? Me? Really?" She shook her head. "I thought about shooting you in the head after you did it. I want you to know that."
He didn't know what to say. He had assumed she would have wanted to, but to hear the affirmation of his suspicions…
"Worst part was that you knew I was thinking it, and you didn't do a damn thing about it." A large glob of the gel oozed into her good hand, then her eyes met Garrus' expectantly. "You made me feel like shit when you gave me those pathetic puppy-dog eyes. Bet that was your plan all along. Take this off," she added, knocking his chest plate with her shoulder, still mostly preoccupied with her mumblings and mutterings.
"Shouldn't you be the one getting this treatment? I mean—"
"I know you want to see me naked, Garrus, but I believe I gave you that order."
He did as she commanded though he really wanted to argue that, technically, she wasn't his CO and so he didn't have to take her orders at all. The motion of unlatching his armor and pulling it off made his skin pull taut around his wound, making him wince in pain. He hadn't expected to see his undershirt scorched and bloodied, either, so that was another surprise for the day.
"That needs to come off, too." She indicated the undershirt. He did his best to imitate her arched eyebrow when asking if this was some sort of ploy to get him in bed so she could kill him in private, to which she responded with a casual 'maybe'. After a brief hesitation on his part, he complied to her wishes yet again.
He tried to avoid her gaze while she slathered on the medi-gel, not at all comfortable with the situation or how it developed. Words were failing him, too – what should he say at a time like this? Should he address the situation and what had happened, or should he try to allay the tension that had built up over the past hour and a half with whatever humor he could muster?
"Shepard," he said uncertainly, still avoiding her eyes altogether. She stopped her movements, watching him carefully as he worked his mouth and tried to find the right way to phrase his thoughts. He sighed and decided to be straightforward: it was the way their relationship had worked since day one, after all. "Do you think I look like a dinosaur?"
Even though he had wanted to confront her about what had happened, he figured now wasn't the best time. Now was the time for them to try and settle down after a stressful day where each of them could have died thirteen times over. Maybe later, when their friendship wasn't balancing on the edge of a precarious precipice, he could ask the tough questions and try to pry for answers. Now, though, he only wanted to see a smile on her face, not that look of anguish and hate or the current expression of resigned weariness.
A weird flutter of joy flooded him when his question was rewarded with a quirk of the brow and a grin.