-Garrus-
One of my associates has brought to my attention you'd like to acquire my services. Let's arrange a meeting. –Fade
Over and over these words repeated in his mind, fueling his rage and making his blood pound in his ears. Working on the guns was impossible, the lines of numbers all blurring into a single target just beyond his reach, so close yet still far away. His hands shook with adrenaline and his head felt on fire with the need to do something that none of the stimulants, painkillers or combination of the two could sate. No, all that seemed to be helping was slamming his fists into the unsuspecting training equipment, not having enough mind to thank whoever decided to buy reinforced equipment thanks to Grunt's aggressive episode – 'puberty'.
Too long, too long he's waited for this break on the spineless, barefaced bastard that betrayed the team Garrus wouldn't have even had if not for Sidonis' insistence. He may not have been the best or most supportive of leaders –hell, he would have never accepted their help if not for the fact it was either take them in and train them to be better or watch them fail using the guise of helping his cause, which he could not stand by and do nothing about - but he certainly wouldn't reject the only chance he had to redeem their pointless deaths.
They died because of him, sure, but he wasn't the one that committed the betrayal. His price for his failure would always be stamped into his face, his flesh, as reminder of his absence and abuse of a group of good soldiers, he would never deny that. Only one last thing remains, he feels, to keep him from being able to put his men to rest and that is to make sure that the man responsible also comes to bear his own burden of guilt. Let the punishment fit the crime.
The near constant growl that's been settled in his chest since receiving the confirming message deepening at his thoughts, Garrus swings a clawed jab at the punching bag, ripping through the reinforced material worn thin from the constant abuse and spilling heavy sand onto the cargo bay floors. Seeing the flowing grains does nothing for his rage, his gravely growls and heave pants, but something else does seem to cut like a cool blade through his blue haze.
"Damn, Garrus." His mate's voice makes him blink, his ridged talons relaxing enough to fist at his sides. "You'd think that thing owes you money." He stands straight and turns to her, seeing in her eyes that her quip is only a front to her concern. She crosses her arms as she studies him, luckily not asking the last thing he wants to hear from the one person he'd ever let see him like this, let calm him in even the slightest, like he does for her. Instead, always able to read the little things he never has to put to words, she says, "So I take it we heard back from the great Fade?"
"That obvious?" If she hears the rough undertone to his voice, she doesn't express any reaction, which he is grateful for. He doesn't know if he could live with her questioning his anger, though there's some part of him that thinks she may be more understanding of his feelings of betrayal and redemption than he might give her credit for.
After all, it wasn't but a few months ago for her that she believed everyone was finally believing of her words that were meant to save them all, warn them of the inevitable war they were blind to. However, she awoke to find most of the universe thinking she was nothing but a lunatic first, terrorist second, and even most of her own kind has turned their backs on her. No, he thinks she knows very well the feeling of betrayal, only she was betrayed by many when he was only victim to a single individual.
Jane nods and moves to him, wiping some blood from his chest where he reopened some of the wounds on his shoulder. She is quiet, granting him the moment to try and force his breath to calm at least enough to seem in control, but he can't completely slow his heated blood or unclench his hands. He's sure she'll forgive him as she taps the back of a knuckle on his keel, her face contemplating.
"So…" she chews on her words before looking up to him, surprising him when he sees a spark of his own fire in her eyes. "When should I book the flight to the Citadel?"
He knows better than to tell her she doesn't have to be there, that she doesn't have to stain her hands with his own sins. This is just as much about her as it is him and, though she wasn't directly associated with his team, Garrus can't also take away Jane's right to be by her mate's side, his side. Just as he was with her on Alchera, she must be by him on this, and he trusts wholeheartedly in her commitment to his own special way of repaying Sidonis' betrayal.
"I'd like to head there as soon as possible," he answers her with a growl, trying to calculate how fast they could be there, wishing they could push the engines to their limits. "I've been able to keep it off my mind while I've waited for my false inquiry to reach Fade and bounce back results, but I don't think I can do it anymore. Now that I actually have this, I can't just concentrate on work, on a mission." Shaking his head, he turns from her in frustration at his lack of self-control, his inability to rein Archangel once he's caught scent of a hunt, and leans on his hands on the Hammerhead's inactive thrusters. "Like this, I'm a liability to any mission we go on. Not when I'm so close that I could lose my only lead. I can't lose this bastard, Jane," he grinds out over rumbling vocals that are starting to make his chest and throat hurt.
"Then we won't." He hears her approach him and lean her back against the Hammerhead's cabin, crossing her arms with a determined look. "EDI," she calls out without looking from him, "tell Joker to set course for the Citadel. Double-time it."
Hearing the AI confirm it and repeat estimated arrival, he nods softly in silent thanks, his blood pumping hard under his plates at the mention of closing in and unable to speak without knowing his harmonics would just overshadow any intelligent language. He doesn't need to speak, he realizes, when she smiles wickedly at him, the cybernetics shining dully under her skin and in her eyes. She understands completely and, whether that makes them both monsters or not, he'll never know, but he's certain that the Citadel will never know what hit it.
"Get your Archangel gear ready for the ground, Garrus," his wife says as she stands up from the hover craft. "These people should know what's coming for them." A hint of dark humor is in her voice, something he isn't too ashamed of admitting to liking, as she saunters off to the lift. "Use Cerberus funds if you have to to for an advance on Fade's meeting." She holds a hand against the doors to force them open. "Hell, do it just to fuck over the Illusive Man. He won't miss it."
"I don't see why you didn't just let me finish off Harkin," he growls as he sets their private transit down harder than needed. "Only good he's ever been is a target for a bullet-"
"But we both know that won't satisfy you," his mates interrupts, uncrossing her arms from her chest. "You're not here for Harkin, so killing him won't bring you any pleasure. It'll leave you just as unsatisfied as now. Plus, it'll burn whatever little bridge you have with Decian." His mandibles flick once in silent agreement as he sighs, popping open the cabin of the transit shuttle. "And it's not like he's going anywhere with two blown out kneecaps and a busted nut from that fucking knee kick, Garrus. Not like he can hobble fast enough away from C-Sec," she says with a huff in mock amusement, her face still stern at whatever her own issues with the man were. 'You're lucky… I wouldn't have shot you in the knee…'
"Still doesn't take away the bad taste of letting him go." He looks to her to see her shrug, a look in her eyes that says 'nothing takes it away', and he has a moment to think back to Omega, to the long hunts that ended usually in the deaths of his targets.
He had always believed the empty feeling of fleeting victory was only because he hadn't truly succeeded in his solitary desire to rejoin her, but now he questions if it was really because the blood on his hands, the final satiation to that bloodlust, just wasn't as fulfilling as he expected. Hunting down and eliminating his targets had quickly become routine, even the times he had to go 'up close and personal' nothing more than a machine running through emotionless motions to reach completion. Archangel was a mask that slowly became a part of himself, a dissociation from any true semblance of a living being and the emotional connections between action and consequence, and it was a mask he would gladly wear at least once more.
As Archangel, he was the embodiment of a justice that was often cruel and unwavering, but it was the only form of retribution for such a station as the corrupt Omega. It is also a form of justice only fitting for the man who betrayed a trust he was solely responsible for creating. Sidonis will die today at the end of Archangel's scope so that this whole matter could finally be put to rest, his team could be put to rest once justice is served.
With that thought running down his spine, the knowledge that now is the final opportunity to put things to rest, he climbs out of his seat and Jane does the same. "I need to set up." He scans over the railing of the perch they're on, his visor calculating distances and targets in his peripheral that he ignores for the time being. Catching sight of the Orbital Lounge, the supposed meeting place for Fade's contact, he tracks a clear line of sight. "I can get a clear shot from over there," he tells his mate as she's climbing into the pilot's seat, motioning with his chin.
"I'll get him out in the open and you give me the all clear. Then I give a signal, you blow his brains out, and we go our separate ways until it all settles. I got it."
He growls in affirmative, knowing she doesn't quite hear it as the door closes and seals, but it's more just a constant rolling of tension in his chest anyways. They've worked together long enough and they know each other better than they know themselves, so he has no doubt that, despite her flippant way of explanation, she understands every part of their shared plan. She gets the bastard talking, out into the open where Garrus has a clean shot, and when he pulls that trigger, ending the lie once and for all, they use the confusion and panic to slip into the crowds and away from the scene.
Even on a supposedly 'highly secured' station such as the Citadel, the public assassination of someone in such a populated area will be difficult to ever solve. He knows C-Sec well enough to count out the times such unbelievable crimes managed to go unsolved because of the small details that could never be corroborated no matter how many potential witnesses. Without a doubt, Sidonis' death would go unnoticed not only because of this, but because no one will truly work hard at finding the killer of an unknown and unmissed Turian.
Bracing against the railing within the shadows of the higher perch, he extends his Widow's barrel and sets the scope. He can see Jane exiting their transport, setting the cab off in order for her quick slip into the crowd afterwards, and sights down his scope, sighting out the lower floor for any signs of potential trouble.
"I'm out. Heading to the Lounge." He hums in affirmative to her near silent announcement, seeing no one in the crowd that could cause issues for them. Just the usual, mundane Citadel crowd too worried about the latest fashions or issues with false politics to make them feel important. Couldn't ask for a better crowd to panic once a shot rings out. They'll never see her slip away.
Scanning up for any recognizable figures around the Lounge, though he figures Sidonis could be a bit more difficult to spot if he was smart enough to at least try to change his appearance as well as his name. It takes a moment, but almost as if the crowd parts under his scrutiny, Garrus' eyes focus on a single male, hunched over and dwarfed in his baggy clothing. He growls as, despite the light purple stripes over his mandibles, he immediately recognizes the man. How could he ever forget the one who all but begged Archangel to take other under his lead or face the consequences of those same failing while separately attending to his vendetta?
"He's on your two o'clock," he growls over the comm, not caring to contain the venom that bites at the edges of his words. With a sideways glance through the crowd, he watches as Sidonis' eyes catch his mate's and she gives a slight flick of her hand while looking around for 'possible overseers to their illegal identity trade'. She looks like a natural, which may very well be the case from her years on Earth, and the Turian doesn't hesitate as he stands to make his way through the crowd.
Garrus can't help the low growl of threat, as if he was directly beside the man and not a couple hundred meters away, at how close to his mate the traitor stands hunched before her, but she doesn't react to the sound as Sidonis' voice echoes over the indistinct voices of the numerous moving people around them. "Let's get this over with," he says with a nervous trill to his vocals as he glances anywhere but at her face, making Garrus narrow his eyes. So he fears being found out or he feels guilt in what he's done? Good to know he's not completely steel-less…
Jane gives her head a slight shake as she jerks her head aside. "Not out in the open." It's almost amusing to see the taller Turian flinch at the command in her words, obviously jumpy from the fact that he may be found out, but he simply nods as he follows the small human – even in her armor – walk through the crowds to relax over a railing. If he wasn't already in on the ruse, Garrus would merely think it was two people relaxing for a conversation. No doubt over her experience as a kid running drugs long ago…
Growling in frustration at how his target has hunched himself behind his mate, nearly collapsing against the railing under his hands, Garrus has no choice but to hold off and try to get Jane to move into a better position or get Sidonis to stop cowering and gain some sense of dignity. "I don't have a clear shot on him. Not through the crowd." Not with your head directly in my scope blocking his.
She doesn't reply with any movement, but he knows she understands when she leans up off the rails and retrieves that fake ID they had found when they were raiding Fade's base. "Got your new identity here, Sidonis."
"Don't ever say that name alou-" the man with false colony paints snaps with a jerk of surprise, his words dying when he finally looks to her. "Fuck… you're… you're her…" Garrus can hear the clear panicked vocals and sharp chirrups of distress as he steps back from her, eyes wide and mandibles flicking in distress. "You… but you're dead-"
Through his scope, he can start to see others in the crowd react to Sidonis' reactions and he curses inwardly at his stupidity for thinking someone wouldn't recognize his wife especially in full armor. "Dammit. Don't move Jane. If I get the shot on him, I'm taking it." And I don't want the potential to hurt you on my conscience…
"Look, you tell Garrus I didn't have a choice-"
"Didn't have a choice?!" she spits with a snap of her head towards the coward and, if it were any other time where he isn't currently trying to get a clean kill, Garrus could take pleasure that her control and demand is stronger than the panic and fear of death. Now, however, her ire in the remark as frozen Sidonis in his steps, placing him too close for the shot. "Everyone has a fucking choice, dipshit."
"You don't understand…" He keens around the slink creak of Garrus' glove as he tenses around the grip of his rifle, his talon itching for the moment he has an opening. "I… I wasn't strong enough. When they started beating me, I couldn't stay quiet… we were found out, our rendezvous after each job – they knew all our coordinates… I did the only thing I could."
"You gave up your team?!" she says at the same instant Garrus can't help but state "You turned on the people who trusted you."
Despite being unable to hear her comm, Sidonis still shakes his head with a hum of sadness, his vocals thick with the grimy sounds of grief and shame. "I know what I did. I know they died because of me… I can't eat, can't sleep, can't think… I always see their faces when I close my eyes." His hands shake as he cups his head, keening. "I was certain I'd die when they found out what I did… but I had to… I had to save him-"
Surprised in his reasons, Garrus misses when his wife bolts into action, fisting the taller man's shirt as she flares blue. "You think you did him a fucking favor?! By killing his team and almost killing him?!" Her screams snap him back to attention, as well as starts to attract unwanted attention. Dammit, Jane…
There are times when her anger gets the better of her, he knows, and usually he can forgive her for it, but now there are too many witnesses, too many people starting to see an armored, red headed human shaking a terrified Turian as she pulses with energy and screams. As if luck couldn't get any worse, he can even see a handful of blue in the sea of civilians, the distinct color of C-Sec and the one thing that has him removing his finger from the trigger. At least I know of their presence now before I just pulled the trigger and left her to slip away with them on her trail.
"Jane," he interrupts Sidonis' plea, holding back the frustrated hum in his vocals. "Let him go."
"What?" Through his scope, he can see her glance back, unsure where he is exactly, but knowing he can see her. Her brows are furrowed and jaw pulled tight, but starts to relax as she realizes what she's done. "Shit…"
Yeah, 'shit'. "Let him go. It's too hot." She shoves the Turian in her hands away like he's on fire, obviously understanding what Garrus doesn't need to say. "Tell him to go, Jane," he demands shortly with tight mandibles and a rolling growl barely allowing his words to be heard.
"Fuck… Get the fuck out of here." She jerks her hand at the man, making him flinch. "Go! Before he changes his fucking mind!"
With energy he hasn't shown this entire time, Sidonis bolts away through the crowd, movements jerky as he shoves through the crowd to get as far as he can. Garrus watches him through his scope until he loses the curved, gray fringe in the crowd of other bobbing crests, fringes, hoods, and hair and lowers his scope with a clench of his talons against the metal and tight rumble of irritation.
"Shit… Garrus, I really fucked this…" Her voice is weak, defeated in a way he's barely heard from her, and he can see her shoulders low even at this distance. It's a scary way to see her while full clad in armor, but he's not in the completely sane mind to worry about it. Because of her temper, he has lost his chance at the clean end he wanted, but it's also because of her that he know has to question why Sidonis betrayed him.
When he came here, he was killing a coward and traitor that traded a life for the lives of ten, maybe eleven, other people. Garrus was fine pulling the trigger on such a man, but know the reason for Sidonis' betrayal has changed. To sacrifice ten people who had put their lives in this man's hands for another person, for an idol that wanted nothing to do with them besides use their numbers for his own cause? It just didn't sit well with him and he had to get to the bottom of it – and he knew just how to do that. I guess her interference gives me the chance to take this up close and personal. In true Archangel fashion.
"Jane," he calls over the comm, some of his ire cooled with the prospect of restarting again in person once he tracked Sidonis through the crowd – which wouldn't be hard considering his target is panicked, sick, and weak. "Don't worry about it." She looks surprised at that, turning completely to his possible perch with a confused expression he can see through his visor's readout. "Go see how to help with Thane," he assures, forcing his voice to smooth down at least to make her understand he doesn't really blame her at the chance to fix this himself. "I need some air, a chance to think. I'll meet you at the docks after."
Her brows drop further as her frowns deepens, but she nods, running a hand through the hair that's fallen over her face. "Yeah. Sure. And Garrus? I'm sorry."
She must not expect an answer as she switches her comm off and makes her way through the crowd for a transit, her movements a bit hesitant. He'll explain later, when Archangel isn't struggling at his bonds for the fight, that he holds no grudge against her, that, in a way, her rage offered him a chance to realize that a public killing holds too many 'what if's' for his liking. In a way, he'll need to thank her, for if he hadn't been for her snapping his control over the situation, he couldn't gotten her into a situation he never intended for her.
He won't have her take the fall for his vendetta should C-Sec had reacted faster than anticipated to the sound of a rifle shot that she couldn't slip unnoticed. She already carried too many burdens that he will not add his own to her. Especially not after he's already laid as much of this life on her shoulders as he has by asking her to help him bury his team, send their belongings to their families, and open his own chest of broken psyche that held the things of their first life.
This whole ordeal – the thought of losing him, most like – was eating at her as her own death ate at him. He has no idea what it must have been like when he took the rocket, he wasn't there with her on her final moments, but he isn't deaf or blind to the fact that, whenever he is mentioned around Cerberus, she snaps off any smart quip and falls in line. She made a deal that is still bitter on her tongue for him, to make sure she wouldn't lose him, and the reminder of how close they came has only been pushing on her barriers as much as it's been feeding his anger.
He came here to bring justice for his team while she came to bring justice for him and Sidonis' words was the last ounce of pressure needed to break her down. The claim that all this pain was just for Garrus' good is something she shouldn't have had to hear, had to contemplate, despite its ridiculousness. For that, it seems, Garrus owes one more to the bastard that caused it. It's why he has followed Sidonis through the Ward to a dark alley between two very loud, very opportunistic, clubs.
Sidonis doesn't even hear the heavy Turian come up upon him, grabbing his fringe and yanking back as he spins them, pinning his forearm under the smaller man's chin. Lantar's back slams against the plastic covered metal walls with a loud grunt and rush of air and Garrus growls, pressing his weight to pin the rest of his body still.
"Ga-Garrus! Spirits…" He doesn't know if the shock is from his sudden appearance or physical one, but he cuts off any further resistance with a firm pressure on the soft throat under his arm, choking off words to desperate gasps. Still, Sidonis tries to speak, for whatever salvation he thinks his further persistence will bring, he doesn't know. "Gar… you… you said to… go…"
"Wouldn't think someone would betray their word? Funny how that works," Archangel growls in response, added a sharp pressure to his throat before releasing enough to begin his interrogation. "You have ten seconds to explain yourself."
"I'm sorr-" He chokes as his air cuts off. Not the answer I want. Coughing at the release, his eyes widen as his whines in his throat and tries to squirm in the hold. "Please… Garrus… I had no choice. I couldn't stand the beatings, I broke-"
"What did you tell them? How did they find the base?"
"I…" He drops his head, shrill shame ringing from his chest. "They had coordinates from my communications… they were able to listen into my comm before I could destroy it. But they didn't know what coordinates matched where. I…" He falls silent, but Archangel will not take half-answers when a man is professing his crimes, so he gives the man's waist a sharp jab with his free fist, making him sputter and groan in pain. "They wanted you!" Sidonis keens, shaking in the hold like a scolded child. "They said they only wanted Archangel… they didn't care about the team. I couldn't let them… I had to do something."
You don't get to make that decision, not at the cost of other people's lives. "What did you tell them? How did they know where the base was?" Admit to me what you did, traitor.
"They…" He frowns and drops his eyes, shrinking in Archangel's hold. "I was supposed to call you away so they could ambush you, but I lied to them. I switched the coordinates with their designations…" His voices draws weak, barely audible over the drone of his high harmonics that sound akin to interference over comms. "I switched the coordinates for Destination Alpha and Upsilon… when I told you to go to Alpha-"
"You gave them the location of Upsilon." Our base, where the others were never expecting an attack. He nods in affirmative and receives a release from his throat, a second of confusion before Archangel throws a fist directly into his face.
Sidonis grunts, his vocals yelping in pain, as he falters on his feet, but he isn't granted the peace of a fall as a hard hand wraps back around his throat. His voice gasps out with a wet choke, blue blood from cracked nose plates trailing down to slide over his tongue and chin. "Garr-" He is choked off with a squeeze, his hands flying up to try and pry off steel fingers.
"You made a decision based on your feelings. I didn't need your protection, I didn't want it." That seems to make the man in his hold keen harder, in sadness of the truth or pain, he doesn't care. "They followed you, trust you, and you led the mercs right to them. You might as well have pulled the trigger on each of them, yourself."
"Please… -gasp- I'm sorry… -awck- Omega needed you… -gasp - without Archangel, we were nothing-"
Seeing consciousness fading, he loosens his hold. He wants Sidonis awake for this. "I was ready to die. Your team never changed that, Sidonis." He drops his free hand to the hidden compartment on his right thigh guard and presses down, releasing the hidden blade into his hand. It's not meant for much more than dire situations in combat, an ergonomic handle forgone for concealment, but it'll do the job.
His mistake coming into this was to add his feelings, to want revenge because, in some way, he felt slighted by not being able to see this coming or do plan ahead, to train the team he had in order to survive, but he understands now. He sees that, if he didn't have the chance to chase Sidonis down into this alley, to demand explanation, he would be no better than his target, making decisions based on personal feelings and emotions. Archangel is better than a man who betrayed many for the life of one for whatever reason – I'll be damned if I believe the 'Omega needed Archangel' speech – and he would lay out justice properly.
Lantar's breath shakes, speeding up audibly, when the blade in Archangel's hand raises up to his line of sight. "Please, Garrus…"
"Shut up," he snaps with a threatening growl, but his voice only holds the command it would with any other criminal he found in the wastes of his old home on a station of death and decay. "I'm not going to kill you, that's not my place. But I will make sure there's no possible way anyone would ever be gullible enough to put their trust in you."
In truth, Archangel would have no intention of punishing treason between a soldier and the men he betrayed, but his association on the battlefield has made him take notice. No one will court-marital a vigilante for the crimes against his own men, no one cares of what happens on a hell such as Omega, so it falls to him to enact his own justice. Death would only absolve Sidonis of his guilt, free him from his crimes, and it is not something Archangel can abide by, even for a man that once watched his back in battle. If the man ever finds the courage to abolish himself of his sins, then he can end it on his own. Archangel is still Turian enough to recognize such an act of redemption as it would be in the military.
Instead, Sidonis will forever carry a mark that any Turian will be able to understand, wear a permanent warning to all around him that his word is as false as the paint on his face. Changing his hold, Garrus lets Sidonis' throat go and grabs the top of his head, forcing him into a half-kneel so he can work. The man in his hold struggles a bit, but a warning snarl and spoken threat stop his reluctance. "Fight me and it won't be a clean cut." He one handedly opens his tool, accessing the soldering system, and disinfects his blade. "Each of us will carry a permanent mark of our involvement in this." It's up to you whether or not you find a way to live with it, Sidonis.
It takes a while to complete his task, his blade meant more for stabbing and slashing than clean cuts, but Sidonis no longer fights, accepting of his punishment in a way that actually impresses Archangel. In return, he grants the man cauterizing of the wounds before he leaves the alley, leaving Sidonis behind, ridding himself of the burden of redemption for the dead with a toss of the halves of the man's mandibles into a nearby organic disposal unit. The blue blends into his armor without suspicion and his blade slides into place to be disposed of later, the blade dull from his work.
It seems only right to have marked the traitor with antiquated and often unused punishment – Turian society having civilized enough to have courts to deal out proper punishments – but he never denied that he often had a traditional view on right and wrong. It also seemed fitting to use discipline befitting the crime, a vigilante scorned to use vigilante justice. He can still eat and function normally, but he could never hide the obvious disfigurement he now sported. Colony paints could be painted on or forged, as proven here, but one look will either have every Turian already aware of his character or have the other species questioning the intentional removal.
I carry my scars for not ensuring I left my men able to defend themselves and for trusting in the wrong person and he carries his own scars for turning on the men he led under me, the men who trusted in him.