The human doctor walked back out into the waiting room. Solana was the first to place her eyes upon him. His face was wearily etched with professionalism. He sauntered toward the turians. "Vakarian family." They stood almost immediately—all but Othol's wife. "This way please."
"I think I'll just wait here." Bama suddenly exclaimed. "… I mean it's not really my place…" He's not my son, so I don't care. She didn't meet her husband's eyes as she spoke—words coming off as rambling.
Othol didn't speak. He was looking at her with an emotion that Sol couldn't quite pinpoint. It could've easily been mistaken for disappointment or understanding. She shook her head in disgust before approaching the double doors with the doctor. Othol then followed.
Garrus' family was taken to the front of his room, only allowed to peer through the window that spanned the entire front entrance. He was lying on a gurney with tubes protruding from the center of his clavicle, ending within various machines. His mouth was still hooked up to a respirator—chest rising and falling slowly. There were IVs in both arms and a blanket covering his lower half.
Sol sniffled as her eyes panned over the large room. It was very clean from what she could see. The hallway stunk of heavy antiseptics. Othol tossed a glance—seemingly careless but really, it was hard for him to see his son like that. Turians were taught from birth to stifle their emotions—that people die, it's a part of life. But in this moment; no amount of training slash brainwashing could prevent him from the natural response of a father who almost lost his son. Now Garrus was comatose, hanging on to life by barely a thread.
"I wish I could just… touch him." Sol begged.
Without warning, the door near the end of the hallway whooshed open; a worn down Nihlus stepped out with a nurse escorting him to the front of Garrus' room. Walking up to Sol and Othol, Nihlus said nothing, simply placing his eyes upon his "brother."
The doctor had made it clear to the Vakarians that he had no idea how long Garrus was going to be in a coma. The reality was that if Garrus' body wasn't deemed strong enough to perform the surgery; with the family's consent, he would be operated on anyway. While in surgery, nanites would be injected into the wound. And depending on his vitals—only the bare minimum would be placed inside him. Then he'd be carefully monitored. The surgery was scheduled for two cycles from today. The family watched Garrus, silently through the pane of glass for what seemed like an eternity.
Suddenly, Nihlus spoke. "I should've been there for him." Solana moved closer to him, rubbing his back. "I should've…," his omni tool went off. Nihlus glanced at it before responding. "Nihlus," speaking wryly.
"It's Pallin, how's Garrus?" the question was stupid in Nihlus' ear canals, but he managed to deliver a leveled response.
"He's stable, Sir."
"Good. I'll be up there as soon as I can, but for now, I just wanted to inform you that we have the perpetrator in the interrogation room."
"I want to be the one to interrogate her."
"Nihlus…" Pallin began before Nihlus cut him off.
He had walked away from the family in an attempt to muffle their conversation but their keen hearing picked up bits and pieces. "Damn it, Sir; I need this."
"You're too emotional, Nihlus. That could be dangerous for an interrogation."
"Don't lecture me, Pallin. I'm not a damn rookie. I want to be the one to see her crumble beneath the crushing weight of the law."
"Why don't you take a day…"
"Screw that, Sir." He ended the call, storming back toward Sol and Othol. There was tension riding his shoulders, mandibles plastered against his weary face. Solana planted her eyes on him. "I'm sorry," he addressed mostly Sol, "I have to go. I'll be back as soon as I can."
He turned on a heel storming toward the elevator. "Wait." Sol pleaded with tears in her eyes. "Where are you going?" She asked, making it in front of him.
"The station." He replied wryly, mashing the button. The elevator opened almost immediately.
"Please. Don't go. Not yet."
"I have to." He words came out harshly, sub-harmonics screaming.
She understood the intensity in his words; her intuition telling her that Nihlus was going to avenge his brother, legally. Sol stepped to the side. Without another word, he sauntered into the elevator; the door sealing the distance between them.
#
Rage sat in the chair, surrounded by institutional gray walls. Her hands and legs were cuffed to the limbs of the chair, given just enough leeway to scratch her head and cross her feet. She had been in that room for hours; offered no food and no water. C-Sec agents had been watching her periodically through the two-way mirror. One even came into the room only to pour out a mouth full of his verbal wrath, showering her in words of hatred. He even went so far as to spit at her; a universal term of disgust among all races, save for the hanar and Geth—if synthetics were considered a race.
Executor Pallin had just finished up with the press. He swiftly made his way to the interrogation, neglecting the mounds of paper work, in the form of data pads; sitting on his desk. He was eager to close this case. And he wasn't convinced that she was one of the Sin Twins, on the grounds that humans weren't smart enough to traffic drugs into the Citadel—one of the most heavily guarded stations in the galaxy.
Nihlus arrived, barely a minute later with Nyreen in his wake. She was rambling about how he needed sleep, and to let her handle Rage. He would have none of it, jerking his arm from her grasp. Pallin was now the only one standing between him and vengeance.
Breathing heavily he proclaimed. "Don't you dare. Just get out of my way Pallin."
This was definitely not Nihlus. He was a good turian and a good turian didn't let pain cloud his better judgment or allow him to forget his place amongst turian hierarchy. His sub-harmonics were screaming up a storm that translated into chaos.
"Nihlus, wait." Pallin began. "You're not going in there until you calm down." Nihlus attempted push past him but Pallin stayed firm. "Nihlus! This is your chance." He gripped the younger turian's shoulders. "You go in there all fire and brimstone and she's liable to shut down." Nihlus tried to break from his grip and his words of iron, putting him back in his place. "And you know what happens when the perpetrator does that."
Nihlus did. All she needed to do was to cry lawyer and the case was done. It wasn't that she could get off, there was too much evidence against her in Nihlus' opinion, but there was always that chance. Plus, the case would no longer be driven by him, but by bureaucracy. It minds well be the lawyer on trial by that point. So like a good turian, he swallowed his emotions: anger, hatred, sorry, guilt, and fear; a bitter pill to swallow. Relaxing his shoulders a bit as if trying to convince himself that everything would be alright. The sounds emanating from his dual toned larynx took longer to recompose. It was like trying to stop a battle cruiser on a dime in the vastness of space—nearly impossible.
"I'll go in first, just to… soften the bitch up." Nyreen spoke. Her hands rolled within one another greedily as if she wanted to tear Rage's face off. Her sub-harmonics remained leveled but her mandibles were solid against her face in a cocky manner.
Executor Pallin didn't like this, his eyes meeting hers. He couldn't escape the feeling that a human should be the one interrogating her, not turians. Putting himself in her shoes, which was not as hard as one of another species would've thought; he knew she was tired of dealing with aliens.
He stepped closer to the glass. "Why do you think she did it?"
Nyreen sighed, moving to the door. "We're about to find out." She waved a hand over the sensor, entering while Nihlus attempted to cool off. His hands were balled into fist, claws sinking into the leathery flesh.
Nyreen's heavy boots drummed the ground, announcing her approach. Rage's eyes glazed over the heavily armored female with little regard. Nyreen thought of it as a ploy, thinking that deep down, Rage was terrified. However, not to underestimate her enemy, she played along.
She was planning on skipping most of the preliminary question and diving straight into the nitty-gritty. Nyreen began, "Rage Shepard, or do you prefer Jane," she spoke while making her way to the table?
Brandishing a data pad which contained Rage's file, she carelessly tossed it on the table before sitting. Rage held her tongue, not meeting the other turian's eyes.
Jumping to the next question she spat, "My name is Officer Nyreen Kandros and I'll be conducting this part of your interrogation." Nyreen leaned forward, supporting her weight with her elbows. "A little advice, human; with the amount of evidence we have against you, you might want to start talking. Unless you were planning on spending the rest of your life in prison?"
Rage remained silent.
Nyreen sat there for barely a minute. "Okay. I guess we're done here." Scooping up the data pad, she left the room.
As she exited, Nihlus moved toward the door. Pallin kept his eyes on Nyreen.
"Interesting tactic." The Executor stated.
"No tactic. She's guilty, plain and simple." Nyreen stared at the human through the glass. Nothing's ever plain, nor is it simple.
"No doubt, but why." Pallin exclaimed as if he were patronizing her.
"Because she's a bitch." Nyreen moved to the coffee machine.
"When's the last time she's had something to eat or drink?"
Nyreen shrugged her shoulders carelessly. "When's the last time Garrus had something to eat or drink?"
The bitter words stung Nihlus in the heart. Anger built back up inside of him as he stormed through the door.
"Nihlus!" Pallin shouted, running after him.
He wasn't himself, moving toward the helpless human who sat in the chair. His talons were upon her throat in the blink of an eye. Scolding words poured from his mouth, something like, "You fucking bitch. Why? I'm going to fucking kill you!" His fist barreled into her face twice before he was restrained by Pallin and some more officers who'd been watching the action on the vid screen near the interrogation room.
"Nihlus, get a hold of yourself." Pallin hissed as the younger turian was dragged out of the room.
Rage spat out blood, her cheek swelling as pain settled around her cheek bone and mouth. She was breathing heavily; green eyes lingering on the barrage of C-Sec officers, escorting Nihlus. The door then whooshed shut, leaving her in suffocating silence once again.
Nihlus was hyperventilating, arms and legs tremulous. "I'm okay, I'm okay." He lied. The officers gave him a little room, spreading out. Nihlus sank to the ground, clapping his hands over his face as he broke down again. That was all the convincing that Pallin needed.
He exited the room, activating his omni tool. "Captian Kahoku, I have a situation that I believe needs a human touch."