Garrus

The platform touched off without a sound, hovering over the inky blackness below with a disturbing weightlessness. The huddled mass of terrans disappeared behind them, and Garrus murmured a small prayer that they would not be overcome as they finished what they came here to do.

A quiet settled over everything. Thane sat cross-legged in the center of the platform, eyes shut, his rifle resting across his lap. First time I've ever seen a drell. An odd sort. The two protoss stood at the front of the platform, watching the platform's progress, readying themselves for the end. The krogan merely paced back and forth to their left at the edge of the platform, occasionally shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

Mordin alone stood at Garrus's side, clutching a heavy pistol. Garrus looked the salarian up and down, remembering his time with the STG crew boarding the Amerigo and wondering how much of that applied here. Salarians are almost as hard to understand as the protoss.

"Wish had been born four years later," said Mordin to Garrus, breaking the silence. Garrus stared at the salarian inquisitively. "More time to study psionics, understand phenomena. Too much of terran research classified or false, difficult to access or correct. Protoss unavailable. Four more years of life might have made difference. More literature. Helpful to combat Reapers."

"If you were younger, would you have been able to contribute during the Great War?" Garrus cocked his head.

"Perhaps not." Mordin nodded, slowly at first, but then a little faster. "Someone else might have gotten it wrong. Other contributions as well. Still – thirty-nine years old now. Not much time left. Thrilled to be at center of galaxy, though. Much accomplished. Nothing to be ashamed of."

That must be nice. Garrus stared out into the distance. No other platforms approached them. The base remained dead silent, yet it felt like the sucking intake of a child before the massive scream. He looked at the protoss, both of whom he owed his life to. How things change. Would that they could have held their fire that day over the relay … them or Victus. Or both.

The Dark Templar turned away from the edge and squatted before the drell, whose eyes opened to greet him.

"When this is done, I intend to discover just you and yours are doing throwing around phrases such as "Tal'Darim," Thane." Garrus glanced at Mordin, wondering if the salarian knew just what the protoss meant. "I will not see my people potentially outmaneuvered by something we could not see coming. And I will not be outwitted by a terran, even a terran psionic."

"Focus yourself on the coming battle." Thane did not sound even faintly alarmed. "I assure you, you are among friends here. And forgive me if I cannot answer your questions myself. I know precious little beyond what I am told."

The platform shook slightly. Grunt readied his weapon and blew air from his nostrils.

"Today I show the galaxy the value of the krogan." Grunt pounded a thick hand against his armored chest. Fenix reached for the device on his back. Hopefully we won't be in the blast radius when that goes off…

The platform slowed. Dim light flowed in from gaps in the ceiling above, revealing what the beating heart of a galaxy looked like firsthand. Orange and yellow. Before them were an array of platforms arranged in a circle around – well…

"What is this?" Zeratul fell to his knees, a hand stretched across his face, naked horror in his every movement and syllable. Fenix drew his blades, and the lesser sapients such as Garrus could only look on and despair.

It defied description and yet required it. A shapeless mass of empty blackness, an absence that was yet a presence. Garrus stared at it and realized his mind literally did not believe what his eyes were telling him. It was … black, perhaps. No light emanated from it. Its surface rippled with what might have been grasping appendages, many hands, something rolling along the outside that was as choppy as a rough sea.

Garrus stared at it and knew insignificance. With each motion the light flickered, and the afterimage of countless terrans reeled back in permanent horror, their arms shielding their face from whatever this thing was. No tubes or wires ran to it. It simply hung there, sucking in life, light, and heat greedily. It made no sound nor did it seem to recognize their presence. That somehow made it worse.

"Long we were taught that nothing could dwell in the void for long," murmured Zeratul, rising, his horror turning to a mix of awe and utter disgust. "In truth, we simply did not acknowledge the possibility that any creature would be the combination of advanced, selfish, or devious enough to employ the measures necessary. This … abomination … is what prevents the mass recall. It distorts the energy around it like a lead ball dropped in the center of cloth. Fenix … we must eliminate it."

"Will such crude measures suffice?" he asked, and Garrus could not help but nod in agreement at his doubts. "Zeratul? What is this void-thing?"

"It is a gateway to the emptiness," growled Zeratul, pulling Grunt away from the edge and turning to the others. "Rouse yourselves! I know not if it will defend itself, but its mere presence is an assault on the senses! Enhanced Defense Intelligence, tell me no one has been adversely affected witnessing this on the other end?"

"Viewers are mostly expressing confusion at what appears to be some kind of stable local singularity, Prelate," replied the AI, cool as ice. "Only the Nerazim have reacted adversely. They seem horrified at the existence of this presence, whatever it may be."

"Remarkable," breathed Mordin, stroking his chin and apparently remaining entirely unaffected. "Unfortunate, wish had instruments for measurement. Phenomenon unprecedented. Will write book on experiences, assuming survival. Let future generations draw own conclusions with reliable data." Salarians. Utter madmen.

"Fenix – plant the device here." Fenix pulled the large warhead from his back and cradled it in his arms. He strode where Zeratul pointed and pulled a large cylinder free from the center of one of the platforms surrounding the thing. Garrus and the others directed their sights outwards, checking for potential interference from the bastard collectors that hounded their every footstep in this wretched place. It proved difficult not to stare at the … thing … or the blasted silhouettes that surrounded its victims.

"Left side. Two platforms at six hundred meters." Thane reported it as if he were expecting it. Fenix looked up and hurried about his business of fastening the device within the cylinder, of sealing it within the platform. Garrus joined Thane at the edge and readied his rifle. Thirty-seven so far, three Harbinger kills. Let's see how high we can make that number.

"Only one possessed collector," said Garrus, scoping in on the glowing figure. "I thought the archon was unstoppable? Why aren't they trying for it anymore?"

"Do you not know perfection when you see it, Prelate?" The Reaper's words carried across the distance effortlessly, likely psionically projected. "Can you not recognize magnificence?"

"That thing is an abomination to be purged, nothing more!" Zeratul stood his ground at the edge of the platform, warp blade drawn. "Stand with me, my friends. Prove this creature wrong."

"Device set!" boomed Fenix. "Countdown of thirty minutes! Any longer and I fear its discovery and removal! Prelate, you are certain this will remove the anomaly?"

"At the universe's beginning a great explosion banished the emptiness." Zeratul readied himself, body shimmering as the platform drew closer. "It will do so again."

"You cannot destroy entropy, Prelate." Garrus fired once at the platform, and the collector next to Harbinger reeled backwards with a hole in its skull. Harbinger did not even turn his head to his fallen companion. "We survive where no others can. We share this gift freely. You will live eternal."

"It is not living and it is no gift." Zeratul pointed his blade square at Harbinger, whose platform swiftly approached. "Were the Matriarch here now, she would tell you precisely what you have done and why it is horrific … but alas, I must fumble with clumsier words and understanding. Die again and again, Harbinger."

Zeratul leapt the distance over the platform, now only ten feet away. Garrus and Thane crowned another two collectors with a bullet each while Grunt and Fenix followed Zeratul's example, issuing their respective homeworlds as a battlecry.

Garrus ducked behind one of the ridges of metal adorning the platform, smiling as he heard the harmless return fire and the sound of Mordin releasing another incineration blast. He popped out again and fired off his own overload, two collectors sparking and jerking back with their barriers broken.

"Incoming platform!"

Garrus fell as their platform shook, the second enemy structure colliding with theirs with some force. When he reoriented himself, two more collectors spilled over the now skewed side of their own smoking platform, chittering madly.

"Isn't there a bomb we should be getting away from?" called out Garrus, firing twice at each collector, knocking both down. "Zeratul!"

Zeratul finished driving his warp blade through the head of Harbinger before turning to reply – only to call out and point. The air rippled and distorted as soon as he did so. Garrus wheeled about to face the unspeakable, and found himself at a loss for any words beyond two.

"Oh, shit."

A vast metal leg, enormous and strewn with thick cabling, emerged from the emptiness, which twisted and shrieked at its emergence. Garrus could not really judge its length, for it ran beyond his view and currently floated slightly inexplicably in space, but it definitely fell into the "too large for my guns to work" category of things Garrus wanted to kill. To his dismay, another promptly followed it out. The air droned with an undercurrent of heavy electricity.

"Reaper presence – probable ship that attacked Normandy!" Mordin barked, rushing past Garrus and jumping aboard the platform Zeratul had just cleared. "Recommend reaching safe distance before full emergence!"

Garrus jumped the distance with a quickness, his heart catching in his throat as he landed. His skin tingled as the Reaper continued its process and the electricity ran through him. Thane nimbly leaped the distance without difficulty, and the platform shifted at Fenix's hasty instruction at the center console. The platform whirred and sped away with what Garrus felt was depressing slowness.

The empty thing shrank and the Reaper pulled its way through. It consisted of a vast "head" of sorts made of overlapping sections of metal, with four ponderous metal legs extending to the front and back of it like some monstrous crab. As it tugged its final leg free, the metal sections on its head shifted to the side, revealing a monstrous red eye. Something whined fiercely, making Garrus grit his teeth.

"Get d-"

A blast of heat and light met Garrus and threw him to the floor. The platform shuddered and began to spin, making Garrus slide across the floor as he desperately tried to hook one of his arms or legs on anything.

"Gotcha!" A heavy hand grabbed Garrus by the wrist and pulled him towards one of the ridges of metal, which now hung almost vertical. Grunt grinned widely at Garrus as he clung to one of the indentations within the metal, his fingers scraping horribly against it as the platform span and sank. Garrus's stomach churned at the motion while the krogan only laughed madly.

"Remember this, turian! Remember the day a krogan saved your li-"

The platform struck one of the walls with a crash, hurling them backwards. The world span and Garrus flailed his limbs in what he hoped was a fashion that would maximize his chances of hooking on to something. The krogan was still laughing madly, and as the world turned he briefly saw the bastard clinging on to some piece of jagged pipe sticking from the wreckage of the platform.

Garrus skidded fiercely along some smooth surface before coming over empty air. He collided with something of reassuring curvature that nevertheless forced the air out of his belly and left him gasping. He slid at fierce speeds, his armor sparking as he finally oriented himself and realized he was about to drop again. Okay. This time roll, damn it.

Garrus thought he heard his knees pop as he landed on some jutting balcony above the bottomless pit below. He nevertheless executed a half-decent roll that left him on his back with no broken limbs. He stared up at the platform above him, now embedded several feet deep into the wall.

A great bass tone echoed through the black. Garrus rolled on to his side and saw the Reaper, livid red eye fixed on them, probably scanning for survivors. It fired again, and the platform shattered, exploding into three pieces which scattered and fell into the deep.

"Vakarian here," said Garrus into his headpiece, hoping anyone would hear him. "We've got a Reaper here, and I've lost track of the others, no idea if they're alive. Bomb's planted, probably about twenty minutes left on that timer. What's our situation? Dead or nearly dead?"

"Joker here, everyone else is packed up and we're on the outside!" Garrus breathed a sigh of relief at that, only to realize that he was, to put it bluntly, probably still fucked. "Ready for pickup?"

"This is Zeratul, we live, yet Vakarian and Thane's positions are unknown to us."

"Thane. Alive and moving. Give us a rendezvous and a navpoint."

"Selecting navpoint." Garrus checked his visor and sure enough, EDI had sent one up only about eight hundred meters from his position, assuming the door on his balcony led anywhere remotely close. "Normandy can hold position for approximately ten minutes before the bomb will force immediate evacuation. The Reaper must remain within the facility for the bomb to reach it. Recommend moving with speed and stealth."

The Reaper issued another blast of sound, and Garrus threw caution to the wind. He ran, praying to any and all Spirits that might have been watching and shaking their collective heads at his poor rolling tumbling skills at that moment. Silver lining: at least the extranet did not see it. The door revealed a hallway of mixed metal tubing and horrible chitinous insect shit lining the wall. Par the course. Move!

Garrus's rifle was now either so much wreckage or floating serenely in space, so he reached for his holster to find it empty. Ah, yes. Gave it to the blind woman. It made sense at the time. Nodding to himself in mock joy and praying even harder now, he instead bent over forward and pegged it as fast as he damn well could.

The base slopped upwards but it did not slow Garrus, who felt he was running fast enough that his own exhaustion was now lagging behind him, arm outstretched and begging for him to wait up. A glowing figure stepped out of a side passage and almost gave him pause, but instead Garrus just sprinted past it.

"Turian-" and then Garrus did not catch the rest.

I might actually live I might actually live I might actually live-

The base turned into a gentle slope downwards and Garrus tried to control his speed, almost tripping twice and doubling over. Distant gunfire echoed through the corridors and broke through the sound of rushing wind and throbbing veins. Exhaustion and general lack of breath also caught up to Garrus, and now his chest burned as he tried to push through it, lung burning at the exertion. Three hundred meters. Two hundred fifty meters.

"Waiting on Vakarian here!" Anderson's words, clipped yet expressing undeniable concern. Whatever else could be said of the UED, they didn't seem to like leaving their people behind, regardless of their policies on aliens. "Getting nervous about that Reaper."

Garrus rounded a corner. Vast space greeted him, exploding suns and black holes making a vibrant backdrop for that splendid human ship, the Normandy. Fenix alone remained outside the ship, beckoning for Garrus to close the distance with one hand while the other speared a luckless collector.

"There he is!" Sarah's voice, ecstatic. "Cover him!"

Gunfire erupted from the open airlock, a motley crew of still standing aliens firing into the horde of collectors that besieged the Normandy from the adjacent worming passageway. Garrus summoned what was left of his ragged will and increased the pace, his feet catching fire. Fifty feet. Forty feet. The nav point turned green, registering impending arrival…

Something hard and hot struck Garrus in the shoulder and back, and he knew it was over. He went down, practically cartwheeling, the pain temporarily supplanted by naked and unpleasant surprise. He fell in a horrible heap, his head collapsing against the ground. Well. So it goes.

Just as he sucked in a deep and ragged breath, bracing for the inevitable pain, a strong hand grabbed him by the back and lifted him into the air.

"No one else falls!" boomed Fenix, staring Garrus directly in the face. With one arm carrying Garrus and the other shielding, he shuffled to the edge of the collector base, to where the Normandy waited patiently.

Fenix hurled Garrus. The exploding suns and collector base wheeled around in confusion, and his legs and good arm began their familiar frantic dance to find purchase. The air went out of him with a gasp as he struck the side of the airlock but did not fully roll on board, and his good arm hooked on the edge just as the rest of his body slid off over the black.

"Other arm, turian!" The volus extended a free hand, the other occupied by a pistol. Garrus swung his useless arm over, grunting in pain. The volus grabbed it and dug in his heels, trying merely to hold Garrus in place rather than pull him over. Garrus saw white stars…

"Help me!" Familiar hands grabbed each of his wrists and pulled him up and over. The pain became a yawning chasm of screaming red, and Garrus struggled to fight the urge to scream. "Applying medigel!" screamed the volus, who had apparently found some semblance of courage. "It stops bleeding regardless of species, right?"

"Let's find out." Sarah smiled over Garrus's slumped body before wheeling about with her rifle, firing into the still onrushing onslaught. "Praetor!"

Praetor Fenix turned away from the slaughter and Garrus heard the beginnings of a cry of victory that he was safe – only to be eclipsed by a great grinding crash.

The floor broke, the metal and chitinous substance breaking away. A vast metal digging claw scraped away the filth and the order alike, revealing a vast head of overlapping sections of metal, which began to shift immediately. The Reaper had them directly in their sights.

Fenix took one last look at Normandy, his golden armor framed from Garrus's perspective before the massive Reaper's face. Even through the pain, he knew exactly what would happen next.

"Praetor!" screamed Zeratul, ragged grief running through his voice, but Fenix had already turned away.

"I failed Tassadar but I will not fail the galaxy." Fenix readied himself. "Pay attention, Reaper. This is how a Templar dies."

Fenix propelled himself off the ledge, all golden fury before the emotionless dull metal. His psi blades bore directly for the now exposed red eye that doubled as some kind of firing chamber, but the Normandy already pulled away. That's twice I owed you my life, Praetor. I wish I could have repaid it.

The Reaper boomed out another bass note, but it seemed shriller and shorter than the ones before it. The airlock hissed shut and Garrus winced with the pain, which did fortunately seem to be subsiding.

"Another great hero lost to the enemy." Zeratul bowed his head. "If this continues, it will be an end of a grand age. I pray that the nuke remains undiscovered and his sacrifice does not go in vain."

"Sacrifice?" Jim Raynor, leaning against the side of the airlock and clutching a bloody side, chuckled without much mirth. "Zeratul, he just wanted to beat up a Reaper. That poor thing's got a psi blade rammed up its ass now, and there ain't no amount of digging that'll remove it. He just couldn't pass up the opportunity. And … someone had to pin that thing on the base long enough for the nuke to go off."

"It was a warrior's death," agreed Zeratul, but nevertheless issuing a glare at Jim that made Garrus's heart freeze, "and in truth, he goes to the Khala to be forever preserved within the gestalt … but my heart mourns nonetheless."

"No matter how many times it happens I am always humbled by the protoss's willingness to sacrifice their lives for the greater good." Duran stared at nothing and seemed to be talking to himself more than anyone else.

"Thank you, Duran." Zeratul faded from sight, likely resolved to brood somewhere in darkness and isolation, as he tended to do whenever he was distressed. Garrus coughed weakly, catching the attention of the others once again.

Sarah crouched over Garrus, inspecting his wounds. "Looks like the UED is going to put a bunch of medical companies out of business, even if all it does is plug holes." She smiled at Garrus. "Slowpoke. Grunt said he tried to catch you, but you were too clumsy."

"Turians are not known for their prowess at acrobatics." Garrus smiled weakly at Kerrigan. "And we only excel at ramming vehicles when it is intentional, as Victus demonstrated time and time again." He rolled his head over to look at the volus, who looked rather proud of himself despite having his face covered by a mask. "Thank you, by the way." Not sure how much difference it really made, seeing as he probably weighs sixty pounds wet, but it's the thought that counts.

"Attention all passengers and crew, this is your Joker speaking," said a voice over the intercom. "EDI will now be showing off quite the light show to anyone who cares to watch as we obliterate that horrible place through the wonderful power of nuclear energy. The captain has given you all full permission to cheer at full volume as that hellhole goes up in flames and the protoss fleet warps in. Please also pay your respects to all fallen crewmen who died to get us here as it happens. Now buckle your seats, kids and volus. Here we go."

Sure enough, Garrus checked his visor just in time to see a blossom of fierce orange erupt from that distant structure. Good. That means no one will ever be forced to go there again, as victim or accidental infiltrator. The ripples of orange ran through the strange structure, chunks of debris ripping free from its underlying skeleton and hurtling off into the orange void.

"Majesty – your experiments were flawed. All access is closed." Harbinger's voice, sounding as if he stood next to them. "The base is lost. They have won."

"What?" Duran stood up straight, eyes wide and wild, a snarl upon his lips. "What is this?"

"We acknowledge your victory, children of this cycle." Majesty's voice, melodious yet melancholy. "We wish you peace as you forge your own futures. Someday you will join us in the stars, if you are fortunate enough to survive to develop so far. If you are ever ready."

The base exploded, cracks of orange spreading through the structure entire and bursting. Farewell, Fenix. I don't understand this Khala of yours, but I hope you go to it, or however it works. The shockwave ran through space, visible and imposing, yet still falling utterly short of the where the Normandy was now positioned. The horrors, the death, the anomaly, gone, all gone.

Jim gave a low whistle. "Huh. Did we just … cut off their only access into the galaxy? Are they stuck wherever they are now? Was it that easy?"

"No," growled Duran through gritted teeth, a surge of saliva spilling through them. "No, it's a trick. They – damn them!"

"Whoa, take it easy, man." Jim lifted up a bloodstained armored hand at Duran, as if that would calm him. Garrus watched the ghost with curious eyes while Sarah shifted her body, shielding him from Duran. "Worst case scenario is still that we won. The deaths today – they were meaningful."

"Mr. Raynor," began Duran, but then he stopped, as if coming to some kind of abrupt conclusion. He shut his eyes, breathed deeply, turned, and simply exited the airlock.

"Duran is certainly odd one, even for terrans," said Din Korlack, breathing a deep sigh of relief. "I am sure he will be fine, however. I am proud to have played my own small part in this."

"This is the Executor." Executor Selendis's voice, no sound more welcome. "Judicator, we are here!"

"Burn what is left of the base," ordered Aldaris. "Burn it in Fenix's name. Wipe the remnants of the Reaper's filth from this galaxy and then…" The judicator paused. "…and then take us home. We have victory."