A/N: Hi everybody!
This upcoming week marks a year that I've been writing Mass Effect fanfiction, and it has been the most wonderful, gratifying, and by far my favorite fandom to write in. I've said it before and I'll probably say it a thousand times more: You, the readers, are what drives me on, gives me my inspiration, and are what has ultimately made my ME stories so successful. I am so deeply grateful to all of you. So thanks for being there for me.
And now, as promised, I give you…LEGION!
Oh. And more Jane/Garrus.
HAVE A SAFE AND HAPPY NEW YEAR! ~J
"I calculated the odds of this succeeding versus the odds I was doing something incredibly stupid... and I went ahead anyway." – Crow T. Robot, Mystery Science Theater 3000, The Movie
Chapter Twelve – A Legion of One
"What?"
Jane's head reared up, a look of utter surprise clearly written on her face. Garrus was just as shocked as she was. He'd been doing a good job of blending into the crowd up until that point. Even when John called him out to justify his theory, Jane seemed more intent on focusing her indignation on his commander and hadn't really noticed him.
"Uh, Shepard," he said to John, "I don't think that's such a good idea."
John, damn him, just folded his arms across his chest and smiled gleefully at him.
"Why not, Garrus? You have some reason why you shouldn't spar with her?"
If it hadn't been for all the people gathered around them, Garrus wouldn't have hesitated to knock his smug ass to the floor. As it were, he was trapped. And John knew it.
"Wait. I thought I was sparring with you," Jane said to John, narrowing her eyes. She was trying her hardest to maintain her composure, masking it behind a wall of anger, but Garrus heard the faint tremor in her voice anyway.
"Jane," John said calmly, draping an arm casually over her shoulder. "That's a terrible idea. You and I can't spar together."
"Why not?"
With his arm still hooked around her neck he slowly led her to the center of the circle. "Because, for one; we're both superior officers. Secondly, you harbor a lot of aggression toward me. If I were to allow you to let loose, you'd probably kill me."
Garrus waited with baited breath for the fiery red-haired commander to call John on his bullshit, but she remained oddly mute.
"It's just better this way." With that final statement John removed his arm and gave her a slight shove toward Garrus before he hurried back to the sidelines. When neither of them moved he looked back at the turian with a challenging smirk. "What're waiting for Garrus?"
Silently vowing that he was going to beat the living hell out of John once they were alone again, Garrus reluctantly moved into the ring and began to take off his armor. Jane eyed him warily, looking like she could run away at any second.
John, relishing every moment of their discomfort, couldn't help but twist the knife one last time. He wedged himself between the two of them and lowered his voice so only Garrus could hear. "Come on, you're making too big a deal out of this. You don't want the crew to think something's going on between you two, now do you?"
"I'll get you for this," Garrus hissed in a whisper, but John's only reply as he walked away was a belt of hearty laughter.
Garrus finished undoing his armor and turned to survey Jane. She was standing on the other side of the circle, wearing the navy blue Alliance uniform she favored so much, although he did find it odd that she was barefoot. Lacing her fingers together she raised her arms over her head and stretched, rocking slightly from side to side in order to warm up the muscles in her back. Then she brought her head down so that each ear touched her shoulders and cracked her neck. He was so caught up in watching her that he almost forgot what they were supposed to be doing.
How did he let himself get roped into this?
Without further warning she closed the distance between them, initiating the match with a swift right hook. He deflected it easily, but she was quick on the uptake. She came at him ferociously, throwing several more punches at him with both hands in such rapid succession that he actually had to take a couple steps backward in order to block her attacks. She sensed his retreat and altered her sequence, and before he had time to counter, her small fist flew into his stomach. The thick plating that covered most of his body acted as a natural barrier, so he really didn't take any damage. Rather, it was the speed in which she executed the maneuver that had him clutching his middle and gasping for air.
Jane didn't show any signs of slowing down, either. The minute he hunched forward she brought her knee up and slammed it into his face. He staggered back, instantly tasting blood in his mouth. Unfortunately it was also clouding his vision, and so he didn't see her come around behind him until it was too late. She raked her barefoot down his leg, catching one of the bony spurs that protruded out the back and his knees buckled. He collapsed to the ground with a loud thump.
Roars of cheering and encouragement rose up from the crowd. For someone who had originally seemed so uncomfortable with the idea of sparring with him, he thought to himself as he lay there on the ground, she'd sure changed her mind quickly. Her skills at hand-to-hand combat surprised him. It was a pleasant surprise, but it caught him completely off guard.
"C'mon Garrus," she panted, hovering over him. "You're not gonna let me kick your ass in front of all these people, are you?"
He let out a low chuckle as he accepted her challenge and swung his leg across his body, sweeping her off her feet. She had hardly hit the floor before he rolled on top of her. She fought tooth and nail, but he was stronger and soon had her pinned, using the weight of his upper body to press his hands into her shoulders to hold her against the ground. Not ready to admit defeat, she managed to bring her arms up between his and broke his hold, and roughly flung them away.
Garrus scrambled to maintain his balance and his edge, and tried to gather her wildly flailing hands in his while fighting off her feeble attacks. When one of her hands attempted to make contact with the side of his face, he snatched it away and pushed it back down to her chest. She bucked at the last minute and he missed, one of his claws snagging the fabric of her uniform just below her collar. He froze, staring in horror at the long, jagged gash he'd just left in her skin.
Spirits, what had he done?
He didn't have time to think, Jane seized the opportunity the minute he let his guard down and slammed the heel of her palm underneath his chin and mandibles. For a moment the world around him reverberated with nothing but pain.
Jane shoved him off forcefully and immediately straddled him; mirroring the same position he'd had her in only moments earlier.
"Is that the best you can do?" she teased between breaths, bringing her face very close to his.
The sounds of cheering in the background suddenly faded as he gazed up at her. She was in such close proximity to him that the ends of her hair were brushing against the edges of his mandibles and he could feel her breath pass over his cheeks. He couldn't help closing his eyes and taking in her intoxicating scent while images of the previous night flooded back to him. Her slender form weighed almost nothing; it wouldn't take much of an effort to throw her off and regain control, but he was enjoying the feel of her muscular legs wrapped around him, squeezing tightly around his angular hips in an attempt to keep him still. If he didn't do something soon, she was going to know exactly how he felt about her without him having to say a word.
"Quit holding back!" she seethed. "I know you've got more in you than that. Stop acting like a goddamned coward and fight!"
Maybe it was his instinct kicking in, responding in the same manner he would have if a turian female had challenged him. Maybe it was because she spoke to him the way that Jack often did when they sparred. Maybe it was all the pent up attraction and frustration he was experiencing that caused him to unleash on her. Hell, he didn't know. But before he could stop himself or think twice about the repercussions, he raised his head and smacked the bony crest of his brow right into hers. She let out a small cry as she flew backward and then slumped to the ground.
Oh shit.
"Jane!"
He scrambled to his hands and knees and crawled over to her. Her pale face was awash with blood, both blue and red alike. She was conscious, but dazed. His heart constricted at the sight of the damage he'd inflicted.
"Damn, Garrus," she groaned as she brought her hands to her forehead.
"I-I'm so sorry." He looked around at all the concerned expressions of those who had crowded around them to make sure Jane was all right. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He didn't want to fight with her in the first place and now look what happened. It was just one more thing that would drive them apart. He could feel what was left of their newly formed friendship slipping through his fingers. "I...I can't do this anymore!"
Leaving her in the good hands of John and Tali, Garrus jumped to his feet and dashed out of the cargo hold.
.x.x.x.
"Garrus?"
Jane struggled into a sitting position and looked around, but the turian had already fled the scene. Tali placed a hand on her back to keep her steady, but she didn't need people fawning all over her. She shook off her friend's motherly ministrations and jumped to her feet.
"Garrus, wait!"
Without stopping to think twice about what the crew might think, she charged after him. Of course, by the time she reached the elevator the lift had already left, and so she was forced to wait for it to come back down.
"Whose dumb ass idea was it to build a ship without a set of emergency stairs?" she fumed as she stood there. "I mean, really! I thought this Normandy was supposed to be more advanced!"
What had gotten into him? She thought they were having fun. It's what he needed, wasn't it? When John first revealed his duplicity she was furious, especially when she saw that it was all a game to him. Her first instincts were to back out and go straight to her room. She certainly wasn't going to allow him to force her into anything she didn't want to do.
But as she stood there, staring at them while John talked to Garrus, an idea suddenly came to her. He'd told her that turians usually dealt with stress by fighting, and she couldn't think of a better way to help him relieve some of the tension he was carrying over the error in his calibrations than by sparring with him. The more she thought about it, the more she liked it.
So the minute he stepped into the ring she unleashed on him, hoping that he would take it as an opportunity to loosen up, and then maybe he wouldn't feel the need to hide himself away in the main battery. It soon became clear, however, that he was reluctant to fight back. Most of his moves were just defensive; he'd counter only enough to deflect her attacks, but wouldn't throw any in return. It was almost like he was afraid to touch her.
She stepped up her game to prove to him that she could handle whatever he hurled at her, that she wasn't some fragile little weakling, and soon she had him on his back. With a haughty smile she leaned over his body and taunted him.
That's all it took for him to finally respond to her goading. Using his leg he swept her feet out from under her and before she knew it, she was lying on the ground next to him and he was on top of her. She fought wildly underneath him but he just smiled and pushed his hands onto her shoulders, putting all of his weight on them to keep her pinned to the floor. After a moment of intense struggle she managed to slip her arms between them and broke the hold he had on her. He shifted forward from the sudden release as she brought her fist to the side of his face.
He caught her arm with a deep rumbling growl and tried to restrain her again, but she wasn't about to let him regain the control. As she jerked her hand out of his grip she heard the rip in the fabric of her shirt and felt his talon dig into her skin just below her collarbone. Fortunately, the superficial wound didn't faze her one bit. She had at least half a dozen scars just like that under her shirt from where her mate's claws had left their mark. But Garrus didn't know that. He went rigid, a horrified look darkening his blue eyes as he pulled back. It was just the opportunity she needed. She drove the heel of her palm into the softer flesh beneath his chin and then shoved him off.
Within seconds she was on top of him. She brought her face very close to his and whispered another scathing taunt. Only this time, he didn't react. The urge to fight drained from his body as he stared up at her, one of his mandibles twitching involuntarily. It grazed the edge of her jaw, but he didn't seem to notice. Her face tingled from his slight touch and she drew a sharp intake of breath as something skittered across her subconscious. A vision or a memory, hazy in the background of her mind, just far enough away that it eluded her. The more she fought to identify it, the more it receded.
The expression on Garrus' face changed from pained surprise to one of quiet contemplation as his eyes searched hers. Her body responded to his intense gaze, a rush of excitement flowing through her just as another piece of the image flashed through her mind, this time a little more clear. In it, she and Garrus were sitting mere inches from each other, much like they were now. But the thing that distinguished it from every other memory she had of her mate was the white bandage decorating the side of his face.
A second wave of excitement coursed through her veins. Was it a dream, some sort of unspoken desire? Her mutinous body was betraying her, and she suddenly had the irresistible urge to be taken into his arms. She couldn't think this way! It was wrong and she needed to do something quick before the feeling quickly overwhelmed her.
She swallowed harshly and challenged him again, hiding behind a wall of anger so he would never guess what she was really thinking about. She wanted to get back to fighting, because then she could enjoy his company and not stop to wonder why she craved it so much.
"Quit holding back!" she snapped at him.
A few seconds later she was on the ground and he was gone.
The doors to the elevator finally opened and she hurried in, slamming her hand hard against the button for the third deck. Once they opened again she raced around the corner in the direction of the main battery.
What was she going to say to him once she got there? Yet again, his quick retreat left her baffled. A more than a little hurt, she thought as she stared at the red door panel at the end of the long walkway. With a heavy heart she turned and retraced her steps, stopping again when she reached the mess hall to look back at the door with regret. All she'd been doing was trying to help.
A drop of moisture landed on the crest of her cheek and Jane raised her arm absently to wipe her face on the sleeve of her shirt. But when she pulled it back, it wasn't soaked with angry tears, it was covered in blood.
"Shit," she muttered, inspecting her forehead again with her hand. It too was drenched in a mixture of red and blue. "That's just great!"
She marched into the med bay and grabbed a towel that was lying, discarded, on a nearby table and pressed it to her face.
"God, no wonder he ran," she said softly, gazing down at the towel. The combination of red and blue created purple streaks that stood out against the stark white terrycloth. "I must look terrible."
She gravitated closer to one of the windows and leaned over the medical equipment to get a better look at her reflection. Her hair was a mess of wild tangles, matted down at her hairline by the blood that gushed from her forehead. It looked worse than it was though, and as she dabbed the towel around the area the blood slowly vanished until there was only a small gash, and a big purple bruise. Still, it wasn't pretty.
Her quiet ruminations were broken by a sound behind her, a sound that she would know any place, anytime, anywhere. But here? Hardly wanting to believe it, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder. The towel fell from her hands.
The metallic infiltrator loomed across the room, its form filling the doorway of the AI Core. The flaps around its "head" raised and lowered several times as it studied her. How in the hell did a geth get onboard the ship? Jane wondered frantically as her mind jumped to all sorts of radical conclusions. It was badly injured; with a hole big enough that she could see right through the center of its abdomen. Someone had obviously tried to stop it before it got this far, but who? If the geth was in this bad of shape and still upright, what about the crew member that had managed to wound it? Were they all right? Desperately she tried to recall the faces of those who had been in the cargo hold watching the fight, but they were all a blur. It was next to impossible to pick out one who might have been missing.
The geth moved toward her, issuing that low, robotic tone again. She reached for her pistol, but it wasn't there. Of all the time to be caught unprepared! And barefoot too! It didn't matter. There was no way it was getting out of the med bay alive…functioning, whatever! She did the only thing she could. She grabbed a scalpel off the instrument tray beside her and lunged for it with a furious battle cry.
.x.x.x.
"That was the sorriest excuse for a fight that I've ever seen," John grumbled as the elevator carried him and a handful of other crew members to the upper decks.
"Oh, I don't know, Commander," Ashley said. "I think the Skipper did a great job."
"Hmph. All that stupid turian did was stand there and let her wail on him. Tell me how that's satisfying?"
Ashley considered for a moment as the doors opened on the third deck. The three other people on the lift exited between them and once they were alone again she opened her mouth to add another argument to their debate, but John interrupted her.
"I need a beer. Care to join me, Williams?"
"Sure."
Suddenly an cry of rage filled the air around them.
"What was that?" she asked.
John shrugged. "Maybe Jane and Garrus are holding a tie-breaker," he grinned with a wink. "More than one way to work off stress, you know. Which reminds me, I'm going to need to see you up in my office, right after we grab our drinks."
There was a loud crash as they rounded the corner of the elevator and they both froze.
"That's not coming from the battery, Commander," Ashley commented.
As they sauntered across the mess hall to the fridge John caught of glimpse of the top of Jane's head through the windows of the med bay. Something metal flashed in her hand before she brought it down forcefully and then she disappeared from view. All of a sudden she reappeared as Legion stood, grabbed her by her torn shirt, lifted her off her feet, and flung her into one of the exam tables.
"Goddamn it!"
He quickened his steps and burst through the door as she clambered off the table and threw herself at the geth again. It toppled to the ground underneath her as she climbed on top of it, slamming its head into the floor viciously.
"Jane!" John cried. He rushed over to them and pulled her off Legion. "For Christ's sake, stand down!"
"Whoa, where'd the flashlight-head come from?" Ashley said as she ran in behind him.
"Shepar-r-r-rd Com-m-mande-r-r," Legion sputtered as it stood up.
Jane stopped struggling against him. "It talks?" she exclaimed. She didn't even wait for him to answer before she wrenched her arm out of his grasp and charged at it again.
He yanked her back and stood between her and the target of her aggression. "Stop!"
Legion assumed a defensive position as well. "The intrud-d-d-er must be gggnnhh," it said, its speech pattern clipped until it ground to a halt in one long, agonizing glitch.
"Legion?" He let go of Jane and turned to it in concern. "What the hell, Jane? You broke him!"
"Broke him? It attacked me!"
"We merely defended ourselves-s-s-s. She initiated the assault."
John glared at her.
"What!" she flared. "It's a goddamned active geth! What the hell was I supposed to do, sit here while it takes over the ship?"
John kneaded the heel of his palm into his forehead. "Legion is on our side."
Her eyes bulged. "You gave it a name? Are you planning on keeping it as a pet?"
"Tali's not going to like this," Ashley interjected.
"Oh God, don't even get me started on what Tali's going to think!"
"Okay, stop. Everybody needs to calm down."
"No, I will not calm down!" Jane shouted. "How long has it been here, John? And just when were you going to tell me? Don't you think that having a geth as a team member falls into the 'definitely need-to-know' category?"
"God! Just. Shut. Up!" he roared. "Jesus, sometimes it is impossible to talk to you!"
She folded her arms over her chest, sinking all of her weight onto her back foot, and waited.
He passed a hand over his buzzed hair with an irritated sigh. "EDI, can you interface with Legion and run a diagnostic to see what Jane did to him?"
The blue orb popped up from the terminal and replied, "Yes Shepard. Stand by; this will take a few moments."
"I didn't do anything," Jane asserted.
"Shh!" John hissed.
She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Where has it been this whole time?"
Seeing that she would only continue to pester him with questions, he gave in and whispered back, "He's been in the AI core."
"He?"
"Just—just go with me on this, okay?" Honest to God, she was starting to give him a headache.
"Okay."
He pressed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and exhaled through his mouth. "Thank you. Legion was fine before the jump back through the Omega 4 relay, but after we came out and ran into your ship he just shut down. He's been in a deactivated state ever since. Well, until now anyway."
"Oh, but you naturally assume that I must have had something to do with his malfunction, not the result of whatever it was that caused him to shut down in the first place," she spat furiously, although her voice never rose above that whisper.
"Well, what was I supposed to think? All I see is you in here beating the shit out of him."
"Legion is synced with the Normandy," EDI announced, effectively putting an end to their bickering. "Initiating diagnostic process."
The flaps around Legion's head fluttered as it let out another series of robotic rumbles. "Cognitive system status: unresponsive. Attempting to reboot. Warning: error detected in data system restore. Recovery from backup: failed."
"EDI?" John said uncertainly.
"Query received from Unit Designate: EDI – Confirm system data/time," Legion continued. "Er-r-ror: system date/time does not match Unit Designate EDI system date/time. Temporal/spatial error resulted in discrepancy between local date/time and galactic date/time. Current date/time is 2 years, 11 mon-n-n-ths, 26 days, 19 hours, 3 minutes, 15 seconds later than galactic date/time. Recommend reset of system date/time to galactic standard."
"What the hell did it just say?" Jane looked to John for answers, but he just shrugged his shoulders.
"To put it simply," EDI explained, "when the Normandy went through the Omega 4 relay, and essentially time-warped to an alternate reality, Legion's systems overloaded, resulting in its immediate shutdown. Because it is operating on a date and time set two years into a future that no longer exists, the disruption is causing an error code and preventing it from fully coming back online."
"So his systems have been trying to reboot this whole time and that's why he's been deactivated?" John inquired.
"Yes."
"I've had enough of this techno-babble mumbo jumbo," Ashley said. "I'm going back upstairs to the armory, where I can at least understand what I'm looking at."
"Can you fix it?" John asked, ignoring the gunnery chief as she walked out.
He waited as EDI ran another diagnostic, a worried frown settling over his features.
"I have reset Legion's system to reflect the date and time of this world," the blue orb informed them. "But there is still an error code showing up. I am requesting a system status report."
"Analyzing communication systems," Legion said in its oddly melodic robot voice. "Analysis complete: communication systems functional. Error: u-u-nable to connect to galactic positioning system." After another series of rumbles, it continued, "Initiating secondary connection to geth collective positioning system. Error: unable to connect to geth collective positioning system. Protocol out-t-t-dated, unable to proce-ggnnnh."
"This reality's geth cannot read Legion's current communication protocols; the protocols are too advanced," EDI said.
"He can't communicate with the geth collective? But, doesn't he need that? He told me once that separation was their weakness." He didn't mean to sound so frantic, but Legion was a damn good member of his squad and he hated seeing him reduced to this.
"It is not as dire as it sounds, Shepard. The geth usually only connect to the collective to transmit data. However, because Legion hosts 1,183 programs instead of the one hundred or so that the average geth is comprised of, there is a high probability that the discrepancy is causing its system to malfunction from time to time."
"I told you I didn't do anything," Jane declared.
"You're telling me that he's going to stay broken until he can link up with them? Is that something that can be repaired?"
"It would take some time, but I might be able to identify and possibly rewrite the code that would allow him to communicate with this universe's collective."
"Do it," John said.
"EDI, if the time-space warp caused Legion's systems to crash, how come yours didn't?" Jane asked.
"Because I am more advanced," the orb said, almost smugly. "My neural network allows me to differentiate between the current date and time of this world, and the date and time the Normandy's systems are set at."
"Oh," she said, massaging her hand into her scalp. It was obvious that she still didn't get it. "So which world is 'galactic standard time'?"
"This one."
"Okay. Thanks."
"Is there anything else, Shepard?"
"No," John replied.
"Very well, then. Logging you out."
The sphere disappeared, leaving the two of them alone with Legion. Jane stared at it warily, inspecting it from head to toe. John had to muffle his amusement as it obviously studied her in return.
"Why are you wearing a piece of N7 armor?" she finally demanded. She was making progress at least, he thought. It was the first time she'd spoken to it directly.
The flaps around its head raised and lowered again, before it answered, "There was a hole."
John laughed outright and cuffed Legion on the arm. "Hah! It's good to have you back, buddy!"
"We're approaching Cartagena Station, Commanders," Joker said over the comm. system.
"Okay, Joker. We're on our way to the bridge now."
"I still don't know about this," Jane sighed as she looked back at Legion. It rolled its head from side to side and shook out its arms in a very human-like gesture.
"You worry too much, Jane," he said, throwing his arm around her shoulders. "Legion's a great guy and an asset to the team. Give him a chance, I guarantee you won't be disappointed. You'll see."
"Yeah, I can see it now," she smirked as they made their way out of the med bay. She waved her hands in front of her and put on her best news anchor voice. "All it takes to save the galaxy from the threat of extinction by a race of sentient machines is two Shepards and one glitchy geth."
"Now you're getting it!"
A/N: A very special thanks to my friend SlappytheClown for helping me come up with the tech-speak for Legion. You're awesome!
