Garrus: The Right Thing
"Ms. Shepard," Capt. Anderson announced politely as Tavia and Garrus swung onto the Normandy's CIC. "I'm afraid I can't get you back to Earth just yet. Udina was supposed to charter you a private flight, but…" he waved as if to indicate the uselessness of the bureaucracy. "Come down to the mess deck. We'll talk more comfortably there."
Garrus' sense of the fitness of things tingled. The crew, too, seemed edgy, as though waiting for some kind of cue. The Captain's voice was too light, too… empty. Not hollow, but like a bad actor who knew he was bad at it and didn't care.
They reached the mess deck and Tavia promptly gave a very gentle chop to the back of Anderson's neck. "Hoo-waah," she announced simply.
"Ugh," Anderson declared blandly and indicated something falling over with one hand before turning to face Tavia, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Officially I just took over this ship," Tavia explained to Garrus. "If you want the rest of the details, C-Sec is locking the Normandy down under Udina's authority. We need to get out of here."
Because the only way to go in quietly, the way the Citadel wanted, was not to be seen at all and the Normandy was a stealth vessel. Garrus understood immediately. He glanced to Anderson; the old N7 stood there, solidly with a grim look of determination not unlike the one Tavia sometimes wore. This could go badly for Anderson; he was risking a lot to take part in this venture.
But he looked so resolute that Garrus was forced to truly appreciate the difference between human soldiers and turian soldiers. Anderson wasn't going to sit this out, and to hell with anyone who said he should: idiots and legalists could chew his ass later. Right now, he had a galaxy to save.
"C-Sec Control, this is Spectre Vakarian," he announced as soon as he had a link.
"C-Sec control, Spectre, prepare to authenticate… authenticated. What can I do for you sir?" the voice on the other end was young and hopeful. Thank goodness.
"What the hell is going on?" he almost roared, causing Tavia and Anderson to grin at one another as he began to stalk back and forth, gesticulating viciously to help him get into the spirit of the part. "My SES told me that my ship has been locked down! The SSV Normandy. You know the dock number you know the ship. Fix this immediately." He ended on a snarl and winked at Tavia.
She grinned at him, winked back, and bumped fists with Anderson.
"I'm sorry, sir, but the order to detain the Normandy came from Councilor Udina—" the C-Sec operator almost squeaked.
"Then it's your bad day kid, because this Spectre just gave you a direct order. An ambassador doesn't have jurisdiction over military equipment or C-Sec's operations and he damn we'll doesn't have jurisdiction over me! Now get those docking clamps off my ship, or so help me—"
"I-I'll need to speak to your SES—" the poor girl almost whimpered.
Tavia cued her omnitool and tapped into the conversation. "This is Tavia Shepard, service number 555-56-5557. Do I need to ask the Normandy's Alliance handler to come down there on Spectre Vakarian's behalf?"
"Or do I need to come down there myself?" Garrus demanded frostily, with a grin the poor C-Sec kid couldn't see.
"I-I understand sir, ma'am… docking clamps away. G-good hunting."
"Thank you." With that, Garrus severed the call. For a few moments the mess deck was silent… and full of grim amusement.
"Make sure that poor kid doesn't get fired over this," Anderson appealed to Garrus, who nodded agreement. It wasn't the kid's fault she'd been on the wrong shift on the wrong day.
"Joker, we're on a timer," Tavia barked. "Get us out of here."
"Aye-aye, Boss. We are on our way," Joker announced cheerfully.
"Be good to keep an eye on, but technically the kid's safe. Udina was out of bounds trying to detain an Alliance ship," Tavia assured Anderson. "He may be an ambassador but that's a political position. A Spectre can overrule that kind of order if the vessel in question is his—and, according to certain wording in my contract it's mine and I am attached to you, Garrus—"
"Aw, I love you too, Tavia."
"—which means that, technically, the Normandy is a Spectre vessel which is why blah-blah-blah. Moving on: civilian say in the military still rests with Parliament; otherwise the only person locking down the Normandy is either legal issues or Admiral Hackett. She's his baby."
So… if they succeeded Tavia and Anderson's asses were covered. Good.
"So why do we have Anderson? Not that I'm not pleased to be working with you again," Garrus said, offering a hand to Anderson to shake.
The old soldier looked surprised, since this was probably quite different than the last time they interacted for any meaningful amount of time, but he shook the proffered hand anyway. And, when he thought Garrus wouldn't see it, cast an interrogative look at Tavia that seemed to ask if she was responsible for the… tempering… of this rookie Spectre.
"Because either we're in the spirit of the law or I just mutinied and broke about a hundred actual laws," Tavia answered. In essence, then, her ass was hanging out if this went badly. "I'm just covering my bases."
"And I want to be somewhere I can do some good," Anderson answered.
Garrus blinked. "You're thinking ground team?"
Anderson drew himself up, body language so plainly challenging even an elcor wouldn't miss the cues. And Garrus was free, the captain said without actually saying it, to try his luck if he wanted. But don't cry if it didn't go his way.
Damn. He'd know officers in the turian military who would back down from Anderson's display—not because it was so very threatening, but because it was the expression of cold hard facts. Anderson was what Tavia would have called 'an original badass.' He could see why.
"Look at me, Garrus," Tavia admitted, it sounded painful. "I'm down. Tali and Liara are both kids—you've said so yourself. Virmire was… not kind with regard to casualties." Her expression twitched. "That leaves Ashley. So either take the kids or take Anderson or do a little of both. He's N7, like me, but more experienced. He's willing and able, and whatever you may believe too old and too wise to let personal stakes compromise his mission."
And that, Garrus thought, was a glowing report coming from Tavia. From his expression, it surprised Anderson as much as Garrus' own improved people skills had. "I'll take what I can get. Get prepped. Tavia, keep Tali with you. We need to talk ways and means." And just like that, the well-oiled machine went back into production.
Tavia: Anchor
"You're looking a little nervous," Garrus announced, sitting down across from Tavia in the mess hall.
"I'm feeling really nervous," Tavia answered. "You know what? Just… don't… let's just don't talk right now. Let's play blackjack or something." Her fingers beat an anxious tattoo on the table, the too-many digits moving at an undobutedly sickening rate before she stilled them and started bouncing her good knee.
Garrus nodded his assent, looking as glad to have something to do with his hands as she felt.
They played more than a few rounds in silence before Garrus broke it. "I just want you to know that… if you decide to get that knee really fixed and if you need help… call me. I'll shake loose."
Tavia nearly put her cards down. "Are you offering to babysit while I make the recovery?" she asked, her eyebrows inching up her forehead.
Garrus nodded, bright blue eyes fixed on hers. "Yes. I am."
"On Earth?" Tavia blinked.
"Yes. You need someone to be there for you… and if you haven't done the sensible thing by this point then you have your reasons. Maybe this is something that just takes a different kind of friend. You know?" Garrus was suddenly full of little movements, among them flutters of his mandibles, rapid casting about with his eyes.
Tavia looked at the table. She would feel better having someone she knew could fight at her back while she would be unable to do her own fighting. Just in case. "I can't just let my knee go any longer. Dr. Chakwas says it's too damaged to heal properly. I'm looking at a replacement or permanent crutches." She did not add 'and a lot of pain.'
"If I ever find that assassin, I'll kick his skinny green ass," Garrus offered. "Or, better yet, I'll hold while you punch."
Tavia chuckled; she could see Garrus following through on something like that, if finding the drell was at all possible. "I could get in on that." After a few moments of silence, Tavia returned to the original point. "I might… take you up on that. With the knee." She was touchy about her scars, but Garrus had both seen and accepted. She didn't feel like she had to hide them. She still felt that way about Jenga and Sherry and all her other friends.
Not that she expected to be in a state of undress at any point, but… she preferred the idea of Garrus' company.
She trusted him to tell her when she needed to dial back, contrary to what she wanted. She also trusted him to stand toe-to-toe with her while they snarled back and forth about it. "We'll talk about it after Saren's no longer a threat."
She knew she would get the surgery and do it as soon as possible. She had to: if the Reapers were coming, she couldn't afford to hobble around on a really bum leg, whatever instinct out of that black beacon-burned place said.
"Do you like cats?" Tavia asked.
"Can't say I've ever made the acquaintance of any," Garrus answered. "I take it you do."
"Yeah. I've got two."
"Ace and Ante, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Tavia blinked, surprised to hear he remembered. The bill from the pet hotel was going to be ridiculous…
Still, it was only money, and she would make it up to them. Somehow. She had the feeling shrimp flavored puffed rice snacks weren't going to cut it. "I hate waiting," she muttered morosely.
"Blackjack," Garrus sighed, slapping down his cards. "I know exactly how you feel."
Garrus: Adapt
"Here we are," Tavia announced to the armored party crammed into the cockpit around Joker. Anderson, Ashley, and Liara stood fanned out in front of Tavia and Garrus. Garrus was not thrilled with taking Liara, but the asari had been adamant and presented herself as a mature young woman who owed Saren something for her mother's Indoctrination and death.
Asari weren't, to his knowledge, into blood debts and the like, but it was hard to argue with Liara's angry blue eyes. More practically, without Kaidan, he was short on biotic firepower.
Much to everyone's surprise, they had arrived literally minutes before Saren's geth ships—sans Sovereign, which was ominous—began popping out around them. Although disappointed that they couldn't make it to the ground first, it was a small comfort that they hadn't arrived to find Saren well into his search.
"You remember the plan?" Garrus asked Tavia, more for the comfort of hearing her answer than because he needed to ask.
"I've got your codes. We'll bounce to the Citadel when you give the word. You'll be off the wire until you're in the same cluster, so… it's your call as to when. Just remember I won't be the voice in your head once you do," she answered solidly.
She didn't need to tell him that any more than he had needed to test her memory. Right now, folks took what comfort they could. He'd noticed a few scents mingling while he walked up to the cockpit. On a turian ship it wouldn't be unusual, but humans were prudish.
He knew Liara had propositioned Tavia and been shot down—gently, if Garrus knew anything about Tavia. She had already admitted asari weren't her thing. He hoped she found someone who was. She seemed the type who preferred companionship and simply had trouble finding it.
"This place is crawling with geth," Joker announced, frowning at his consoles.
"Can they see us?" Liara asked nervously.
"No. This ship has stealth systems; unless we get close enough for visual contact, they won't know we're here. Even geth can't watch the whole sky." But Tali's words contained a hint of '… can't they? ...I hope not.'
"Bingo. Right on the money," Joker confirmed.
"I'm getting some really strange readings from the planet's surface," Pressly announced, joining the already packed cockpit.
"What kind of readings?" Tavia and Anderson both asked, in much the same tone. Pressly handed over the datapad which Tavia, then Anderson scanned. "Power systems?" she asked.
"No idea," Pressly responded darkly. "Just…"
"Well, something's working down there," Anderson sighed, handing the datapad back to Tavia.
"Well, take us down. Garrus, team, the Mako is prepped," Tavia announced.
"Negative on that," Pressly returned briskly. "The nearest LZ is two klicks away. This place isn't set up for drops, it seems."
"We'll never make it on time on foot—that's a forested world. You never make any time on them. Get us something closer," Anderson declared.
"I can't clear-cut you an LZ, sir!" Pressly returned with a bite of impatience. "You need a clear hundred meters to pull off a drop. The best I can find near Saren's position is… twenty. A scant twenty at that!" But Garrus suspected that Pressly reran his scans again, hoping to find something he'd missed. From the increasingly sour look on his face… zilch.
"Twenty meters?" Anderson exhaled, his eyes darting around as he mentally calculated figures or bounced around attempts at a plan.
"There has to be a way, we should at least try—" Liara began.
"Try that and you're hitting a wall or a tree at high speed!" Ashley returned sharply. "If we take the ship down, the geth'll riddle it full with holes—that'll end our mission pretty damn quick."
"We can't adjust the descent angle?" Tali asked, tapping a finger over her chin, the gesture eliciting a gentle clicking sound.
"Wish we could. There's a reason we're the only military who uses this insertion method," Tavia chuckled humorlessly.
"I can do it," Joker said abruptly.
Silence greeted his announcement.
"Really, I can do this," Joker repeated firmly. "I bring them in close, it changes the approach vector. It'll be tight, though so… hope you know how to drop a Mako, sir," he indicated Anderson.
"Like riding a bicycle," Anderson clapped the back Joker's chair. "Load up!"
"I hate it when people say that," Ashley hissed to Tavia.
"ICT. It'll be fine," Tavia assured her.
"I don't even know what a bicycle is but…" Garrus shook his head, glad no one could hear his warbled distress.
…except Tavia who, with her visor's software, could see it visually represented. "Anderson can do this. And Joker can do this. So saddle up."
"I do know what that means," Garrus said. "See you on the other side."
"Count on it." Tavia tapped him bracingly on the shoulder before sliding into the empty copilot's seat.
"Might want to strap in, ma'am. It's gonna be bumpy," Joker advised.