Garrus: Gobsmacked

Garrus adjusted his collar, reflecting on just how long it had been since he'd worn civilian clothes. True to custom, he preferred to wear his armor while shipside. Now, he thought he looked a bit skinny and just… odd.

Tavia met him at the airlock, dressed for a business meeting… except for the pistol she would have to surrender at the Council Chambers. She was still on crutches and there was no indication that she would be off of them at any time in the near future.

"Excited?" Tavia asked.

"I've got Palaveni flitters dive bombing in my stomach," Garrus answered stiffly. He wouldn't admit it to just anyone.

Tavia gave a taut chuckle. "I know the feeling. Look." She held up a hand. The whole appendage tremored visibly.

"Wow. That's… not really reassuring, Tavia." And it wasn't, even if he chuckled at it.

"No, it's not," she agreed readily. "Ugh. I haven't felt this nervous in ages."

"Know what that means? It means you've finally made the switch back to being a field agent: bring on the geth, the rachni, and the husks—those, you can handle. A board meeting with VIPs? Terrifying," Garrus teased.

"Maybe you're right," Tavia agreed after a moment, then applied herself to matching his pace on her crutches.

Garrus found, to his surprise, that although being in a hurry he had automatically measured his pace to something she could easily match.

"There you are," Ambassador Udina almost purred. "Thanks to you, Tavia—"

"Ms. Shepard, please," Tavia interrupted.

Garrus smirked at this; if Tavia stuck on protocol now, it meant she had her mind geared for a top-tier civilian fight.

Udina shot her a dirty look, but it was not an unreasonable request—especially since he didn't know her and she didn't work for him. "Thanks to your efforts—and those of Spectre Vakarian—the Council is finally ready to take real action against Saren!"

That showed in the Citadel security measures underway. The average citizen might not notice all of them, though they would undoubtedly noticed C-Sec carrying a heavier loadout while local billboards and notices touted an 'possible terrorist threat,' enjoining caution in the residents. The Citadel rarely got that sort of threat, but it was not unheard of.

He would need to drop a few words to his father. If nothing else, Vakarian Sr. would know what was happening when something bad finally happened. He'd like to think his father would come up with a better plan then 'wait and see' since he, Garrus, was not given to alarmist tendencies.

He might jump the gun, might charge in full tilt without thinking… but an alarmist he was not.

Once again, the Council met them in a private chamber and, once again, Udina and Anderson met them there. Anderson seemed to tingle with the same nervous shakes Tavia worked so hard to conceal. With the need for her crutches it was easier to hide the shakes by virtue of wrapping her hands around the grips. Anyone looking, though, would observe how her knuckles blanched.

"Spectre Vakarian, Ms. Shepard," Tevos greeted. "Ambassador. Captain."

"Ma'am," Tavia and Anderson answered together.

Before Udina could speak, Sparatus cut across him, "We've re-reviewed your reports Spectre and have adjusted our response accordingly."

Garrus did not let is heart leap, but waited for the other shoe to drop.

"If Saren is foolish enough to attack the Citadel, as you believe, we will be ready for him," Tevos continued.

"I noticed security was a little higher than usual," Garrus answered, hoping his hint of 'you can share with me' in his tone did not go unnoticed.

"It is and I know what you're asking. Patrols have been stationed at every mass relay linking Council space to the Terminus Systems," Sparatus answered.

Garrus waited. Then, when it became apparent no one but Udina planned to speak, and as he didn't pay attention to what the man said… "And?" Garrus prompted, looking between them when no one elaborated.

"And what?" Sparatus asked.

"Saren's still looking for a Prothean artifact of unknown purpose," Garrus responded, trying for all the world to sound as though it was a detail anyone could overlook. "Reapers or not, that is still a clear and present danger."

"Most Prothean technology is broken when found—" Valern began.

"Saren had an undamaged Prothean beacon at the facility the STG team and my own wiped out," Garrus interrupted. "Where one, assume more. We cannot take the risk that the Conduit, hidden for so long, isn't functional too."

"And if it isn't?" Sparatus challenged, frowning at both of them.

"Then I'm wrong!" Garrus finally exploded. "I would love to be so wrong! You can laugh in my face and I won't say a word. But what if I'm right? He calls it the Conduit, which logically suggests it connects something with something else. We don't know what. We don't know how. We know that Saren has an army of geth. We know he's not shy about using them. He's tried to destroy two colonies and has made repeated use of private killers."

"What the Spectre's trying to say without saying what he's really thinking," Tavia broke in mildly, knocking Garrus ankle with her foot, "is that if the Council is killed then galactic stability falls apart. It would take months to get a new leadership structure and months more for them to… adjust their new role to their personal whims. In an emergency people scramble for what's handy… not what's best."

Did she… just look at Udina?

"We're not even asking you to leave the Citadel if you think that's too alarmist. We are, however, asking you to consider bunkering down and remain ready to stay bunkered until the threat has passed," Tavia concluded.

"Is that your professional opinion?" Sparatus asked dryly… but not quite patronizingly, Garrus noticed.

"My professional opinion keeps people alive, Councilor. Bulldog Security, remember?" Tavia responded without heat but with a look suggesting her survival instincts were much better than his at this point. "My professional opinion is this: better safe than sorry with that loony running around. I've talked to him, Councilors. If I'm scared of him, you should be, too."

"We will… consider this," Sparatus declared in a tone that probably rubbed people the wrong way.

It certainly rubbed Garrus the wrong way. "Councilor—"

"Returning to the concrete point, Spectre. The Mu relay, Ilos, and the Conduit are all in Terminus space. The fleet cannot go in without inciting a full-scale war—" Valern began in a lecturing tone.

Garrus, indignation rising, was about to speak when Tavia discreetly knocked his ankle with one of her crutches and spoke up for him. Probably best, since she didn't sound half as hostile as he was starting to feel. This way, he had a minute to recollect himself.

"And the fact that you don't know what Saren's end-game is doesn't bother you? There is a very large, very obvious hole in this scenario and it stops right here," Tavia noted, pounding one of her crutches against the floor to indicate the Citadel at large. "He knows you and he knows how to make you part of his plans, whatever they are."

"Ms. Shepard," Udina hissed, "now is a time for discretion. Saren's greatest weapon as secrecy—"

"Bollocks. He was exposed as a rogue agent to the galaxy at large. I never could tell that this was actually the case," Tavia answered in a conversational tone, refusing to take part in a whispered conference.

"Shepard, this is over."

"If you people keep dancing down the holographic primrose path pretending you can smell the damn flowers and commenting on how pretty the artificial clouds are it will be over and very permanently!" Tavia retorted cuttingly.

"Spectre Vakarian. A ship is being prepared for your infiltration of Ilos," Tevos said, giving Tavia a cold look that had something of the strict headmistress surveying an impertinent student.

Tavia met it with complete nonchalance, unintimidated, refusing to look away.

Garrus gaped. "I've got a ship," he said as Tavia echoed, "He's got a ship."

They exchanged startled looks. One of those brainwave moments…

"Perhaps I may suggest that Ms. Shepard be allowed to withdraw, since her part in this is so clearly over?" Udina asked. Then, in the most insincere tone Garrus had ever heard, "I'm certain her injuries give her great pain."

Garrus wasn't sure, but he thought he heard her in the barest whisper, 'I'm about to be your great pain.'

"Humanity has made great strides thanks to your association with this Spectre—but you're rapidly becoming more trouble than you're worth," Udina growled softly to Tavia.

"And you said I had no restraint," Tavia remarked carelessly to Anderson, whose dark face contorted into something that was half a grin and half a grimace.

"Yes, I believe that would be best," Sparatus agreed with the impression of benign concern. "Capt. Anderson, perhaps you'll see her out?"

"I can walk," Tavia answered proudly, before her tone softened and lowered into something like resignation when addressing Garrus. "It's been an honor serving with you, Spectre."

Garrus blinked at this sudden deference. It was highly out of character… "Yes, it has." They were taking her away? She was letting them take her away? He knew they worked well together but he hadn't expected the sense of losing an arm, or a leg.

He cut the distressed warble, which Sparatus would hear and which Tavia would 'see' on her visor.

As Tavia turned to leave, she knocked his foot with her crutches and caught his eye.

He didn't smile but he wanted to.

She wasn't deferring. Not even a little bit… but they didn't need to know that.

As soon as the door swooshed shut behind her, a delicate click in his ear told him she was right where she belonged.

"You will go to Ilos, Spectre," Tevos resumed, "and you will stop Saren. Find and secure the Conduit for study… if you can."

If he could get there without getting caught, Garrus thought sourly. This wasn't support. This was just a show pretending to offer it when in actuality—

"Is that all, Councilor?"Tavia asked in his ear.

"Is that all, Councilor?" Garrus parroted, succeeding in sounding like a dutiful schoolchild rather than a man taking prompts from a voice inside his head.

"Yes, Spectre. Good luck."

"Try to talk to Sparatus one-on-one. He's not stupid; he wasn't really wrangling with us. You might convince him to do something constructive about his own safety. One is better than none. I need to talk to Anderson. When you're done with the Councilor, meet me at Flux. I'll wait for you."

Garrus was able to continue keeping his smile to himself as he bowed to the Council's wishes and requested a meeting with Sparatus on a 'similar but unconnected issue.' At the very least, he could find out what the necessary procedures were for a Spectre building a support team.

Tavia: Spider

"Damn son of a bitch!" Anderson snapped as he dropped into the seat across from Tavia. The music of Flux pounded around them, lights flashing in a way Tavia knew would have put Kaidan into nine different kinds of pain. Flux was the kind of place one could get lost in, even if one dealt with serious mobility problems.

She knew, however she sliced it, that the time to do the full rebuild of her knee had come… and that she had perhaps waited too long, as Dr. Chakwas said she might have.

"Which one?" Tavia asked, trying to balance being heard over the music with not being overheard. Finally, she simply leaned all over the table.

"Udina." Anderson threw back the drink Tavia had ordered him—his favorite—and looked ruefully at the glass before leaning on the table too, bringing them almost nose-to-nose. "Looked to me like you and Vakarian had something cooking."

"Not just yet. We need to talk, first. You've been taking my reports?" Tavia asked, swirling her own nonalcoholic beverage in its cup. As much as she wanted something stronger, she had no intention of compromising herself since things would probably happen quickly once they started happening.

"Absolutely. And I've been forwarding them to Hackett. He's playing hands-off, but he's still watching and listening," Anderson answered.

Thank goodness for that. "And the Alliance's position…?" She didn't flinch when asking, which she considered a sign of progress.

"Yes to Saren, no to Reapers. But, like you, Hackett has questions about a few gaping holes in this whole scenario." Anderson indicated it with one thick finger. "The Brass is taking your thing about Saren very seriously, though; we're on high alert waiting for… something. As much as can be done without picking a fight with anyone."

Tavia waved for another round of drinks. "What about you?"

"I trust you, Tavia," Anderson said simply, looking up from his drink to study her face. "You look… better… since I saw you last. Happier."

Tavia appreciated the thought. It even brought the faint curve of a smile to her lips. "I am. Now, what's Udina done?"

"Tried to lock down the Normandy—went through C-Sec to do it so I can't tell them to get their damn mitts off my ship," Anderson growled, his eyes narrowing. "It'll take time to get the top brass involved.

"Is that all he did?" Tavia asked into her glass.

"It's not bad enough?" Anderson caught her eye, and Tavia felt a full-blown smile blossom across her face.

"I need your help, David. I'm… asking," Tavia forced the words out.

Anderson's expression softened a little. She hadn't called him David, off duty, in ages. "You don't have to. What do you need?"

"Pack for a couple of days and make like you're going to resume command of your ship. I'll need to be there, of course, for the official handoff…"

"Say no more. I don't want to know… yet," Anderson grinned wolfishly, tossing back the rest of his drink in one go. Every inch of him seemed revitalized, energized, and it was clear he was glad to be back in the swing of doing something other than whatever he'd been doing.

This time Tavia's smile was genuine. "Trust me. You're gonna love this."

Garrus: Ostrich?

"Vakarian…" Sparatus began wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"If I wanted to bring Tavia in as a permanent fixture on my team, how would I do it?" Garrus asked without preamble.

Sparatus blinked as if trying to decide whether or not he'd heard right. "Permanent?"

"Would you rather discuss the Council taking a temporary leave of absence?" Garrus responded brightly.

"There's nothing to discuss on either topic: Spectres don't work in units. If you need help, you apply to your fellow Spectres. The information and situations you deal with are too sensitive for civilian involvement. Hell," Sparatus shook his head, "involving her in the first place was a problem. It wouldn't have happened at all if the Hierarchy wasn't trying to build ties with the Alliance."

"…what would normally have happened?" Garrus asked cautiously.

"She would have been detained somewhere safe and you'd have visited as needed," came the succinct answer.

He'd have had his face blown off or walked into trouble, more likely. Tavia was an Alliance citizen and wouldn't recognize an apparently Turian Hierarchy detention as anything less than kidnapping a former special operator for reasons unknown. And she would respond as she was trained to, limping around or not.

That wouldn't have done anyone any good. He'd seen the results of her ICT training when someone wanted to hurt her… and when she had questions about why.

"Sir, I'm not asking you to make her a Spectre, but I am asking you to consider that she is my primary resource in this Saren-hunt. Until I know what's going on, she remains mission critical."

"On second thought, let's do talk evacuation which, I might add, isn't going to happen," Sparatus answered flatly.

"Why?" Garrus demanded.

"Because there's no point. The Citadel is impregnable."

"There was this vessel, called Kara. They said it couldn't be destroyed. It was," Garrus said firmly. He didn't remember how it came up, only that it had been a conversation with Kaidan about 'sure things.' "The humans had a sea vessel, they called it Titanic. They said it couldn't be sunk. It was. And the reason it sank was the same reason the Kara went down: because some asshole made bad calls in light of information that showed them to be bad calls because he thought with his pride and not his brain. A lot of people died for it. I believe we have something similar happening right now, in this office."

Sparatus glared at him.

Garrus glared right back. "I'm trying to protect you, sir. All of you. Saren is a Spectre. If he wants to cripple the galaxy, he knows how to do it. And he knows that your… confidence… will let him do it." 'Arrogance' was more like it, but no need to be antagonistic.

"Why should he? That's something you've never explained to me!" Sparatus thumped his fist on the desk.

"And that question should be bothering everyone," Garrus answered, reigning in his usual reflex, which was to raise his voice and argue back. "Let me speak to my other half and see what she's come up with. Tavia, are you listening?" he asked, feeding the link to his omnitool so Sparatus could hear both sides of the conversation.

The Councilor did not look pleased.

"I wasn't, but I did want to be available if you called," she answered pleasantly. "What can I do for you, Garrus?"

"When you were trash-talking Saren, did he say anything interesting?"

"He did. And I happen to have a direct line to that very interesting data."

Garrus turned to the Councilor. "Would you like it in the box, or gift-wrapped?"

Sparatus considered Garrus, the nodded. "Get her in here."

Tavia: Reason

"And what have you managed? I'm still ahead of you and you… you're still bumbling about on the outskirts of forces you cannot possibly comprehend."

Councilor Sparatus frowned as the recording came to an end.

Tavia shut down the recording.

"This… why was this not in your reports?" Sparatus asked quietly. His mandibles pulled tight to his jaw, his talons beating a nervous tattoo on his desk.

"Would it have made a difference? It was mentioned. The whole conversation was mentioned in my supplementary documents almost word-for-word. It's faster to read than listen through," Tavia answered.

"I know she gives a lot of information but it's usually well-organized. She also forwarded a copy of whatever she mined out of Virmire before we blew the facility. There may be more in there but as it stands, you have it right from the source," Garrus declared.

Sparatus held up a finger to silence him. "Your outlook, Ms. Shepard?"

Tavia nearly missed her chance to answer, she was so surprise at being addressed both directly and politely. Apparently Sparatus was willing to take this seriously, which surprised her. She'd expected to end up banging her head against a brick wall before making any headway… and expected only marginal headway at that. "Reapers or no Reapers, Saren is crazy and you never know what a madman will do. It doesn't matter what you believe, Councilor. All that matters is what he believes and he believes he's going to 'save' the galaxy by putting it in chains. Having heard his rhetoric, frankly, I don't see the logic: Sovereign was pretty adamant about the whole extinction thing. Saren's dreaming if he thinks his little scheme is a solution."

It was sad, in a way. The man was insane—driven to it by a Reaper or not—but she honestly believed he wanted to save as many people as he could. It was always sad to see such a genuine drive twisted into something ugly that spawned action running counter to the original intention. It happened, across species, across worlds, across time. It was still sad, however. Almost tragic.

"Spectre… you need to find this madman and stop him. That's all you need to worry about just now," Sparatus said slowly and carefully.

Garrus opened his mouth but Tavia knocked his elbow with her own. "Thank you, Councilor," he said automatically.

"Let him deal with everything else," Tavia announced briskly once they were out of Sparatus' office. "We need to haul ass to the Normandy and get out of here before anyone can do anything else. Things are going to happen quickly, so keep up."

"Me? Keep up?" he cast her crutches a pointed look.

Tavia grinned at him, an infectious expression Garrus found himself returning.