Sol,

Virmire was ugly.

After it was over, I found myself alone with Wrex in the cargo bay. He and Ashley had both been groundside, but she had gone to assist with organizing the salarians as Dr. Chakwas examined them. I had been stuck on the ship during the entirely of the mission—well, except for when we were grounded at the salarians' camp. I hated that I had been left behind to piece together what I could from the barrages of orders, shouts, and gunfire coming through the comm channels from both teams. From the beginning, I'd imagined Shepard and I would take down Saren together. Not that it had mattered, in the end. Saren escaped.

And we lost Kaiden.

When we picked up the survivors, Shepard's reaction said it all: she stormed up the ramp, her biotic aura still sparking along her armour – a sure sign she was about to lose control, even before she ripped her helmet off her head and hurled her shotgun into a nearby bulkhead with a strangled cry of rage. Joker's voice cut over the general comms, warning us all to brace for maneuvers, but Shepard ignore him and paced to the elevator, Liara, drenched in mud, on her heels. The ship bucked as Joker burned out of Virmire's gravity well, but Shepard used the momentum to hurl herself into the elevator, Liara scrambling in after her – and was gone.

There was a hum as the artificial gravity kicked in and Joker gave us the all-clear: his tone heavy, at odd with his words. There was chaos in the cargo bay for a few moments until Ashley was able to restore order and usher Captain Kirrahe and the survivors of his STG team into the elevator and up to the med bay. I considered trying to say something to Ashely—to catch her eye, to somehow convey to her how sorry I was about Kaiden. But there was a fierce briskness to her manner that told me she was holding the grief at bay—for now.

And then it was just me and Wrex.

Wrex ambled over to his locker and began stowing his weapons. Every movement spoke of a bone-deep weariness that I had a feeling was about more than just the physical exhaustion of the combat.

"You and me…do we have a problem, turian?" he rumbled into the silence of the cargo bay, without even turning around or pausing in his task.

I refused to dignify that with an answer, folding my arms across my chest and leaning against the mako. Waiting.

Wrex slammed his locker shut. Turned. Mirrored my stance.

"So, turian?"

This time, he spat the last word with the inflection of an insult. I'd been "Garrus" before Virmire, I remembered.

I matched his stare.

"You pulled your gun on her," I said, deliberately keeping my voice even.

He shrugged, but did not break the stare.

"She was going to destroy the only hope my people have had in decades."

He strode across the bay, stopping a couple of lengths away from me. Measuring me with his gaze.

"You can't tell me, if it had been the future of the turians at stake, you wouldn't have done the same."

"No, I wouldn't have."

I didn't add: and my people aren't bloodthirsty thugs who once threatened to overrun the galaxy. But I thought it. And maybe he saw that in my eyes, because he tilted his head to the side.

"If you'd shot her," I said quietly, "we would have killed you."

It was true. All of us—Kaiden, Ashley, Liara, me—we'd all been watching him rage, watching Shepard approach. We'd all been pretending to talk with each other: a lie of casual conversation. But the moment Wrex stormed away and started firing his shotgun into the water, every one of our senses had focused on him. Tali, thank the spirits, had gone into the supply tent, and so was unaware of the entire drama. I remember feeling grateful for that. I wasn't sure if she would have the heart to do what needed to be done, if it came to that.

Kaiden, Ashley and I were too far away to hear what was being said, but, as Shepard and Wrex's voices became increasingly agitated, as Wrex stepped into her space, I suddenly realized why Liara had walked all the way to the far side of the beach from the rest of us. She was closer than any of us. She'd deliberately positioned herself where she could step in and cover Shepard, if she had to.

Wrex had pulled his gun on her. Shepard had matched him.

Shepard and Wrex were too focused on each other to notice, but all three of us had our weapons in our hands. Ashley had the best angle from our end of the beach, but Liara had stepped out of the tent, her biotic aura sparking around her. The look on her face was cold and deadly.

Yes, one of us – I don't know who – but one of us would have killed him if he'd dared to fire on Shepard.

Wrex seemed to read my thoughts.

"Hah! You've really learned nothing this whole time, have you?" He shook his head. "Come on, turian…this is Shepard we're talking about. She wouldn't have needed you or anyone else to take me out. I wouldn't have beaten her to the trigger. Even standing toe-to-toe like that. She's faster than me. Comes with being young, I suppose." He looked suddenly thoughtful. "Or comes with being Shepard. Maybe I could have beaten her, once, but not anymore."

"Firing on her would have been a death sentence for me. She and I both know that. And," he added, "you're an idiot if you think she needs you to protect her."

A surge of fury. I struggled to recapture calm – to access that emotional separation needed for interrogating criminals, needed for sniping enemies across the battleground. But my mandibles still twitched. Wrex noticed it and curled his lips back into a calculating smile.

"But," he continued, "she wasn't wrong. Being Saren's slaves would have been worse than the genophage. My people might choose to waste their lives killing for credits, but at least they have that choice." He shooke his head. "I want to hold a child in my arms and know – know deeply, know in my blood, in my bones – that child will have a better life than mine. Saren's version of the genophage would be just another kind of curse."

I couldn't understand his tone now: a mixture of sadness and fury, all the bluster drained away. I'd thought I'd known what the conversation would be about: I would threaten to kill him if he tried to pull a stunt like that again, and he'd either see reason or we'd come to blows…but this had turned into something else entirely. Unknown territory.

I uncrossed my arms. Wrex noticed. He shook his head, pacing back and forth.

"Look," he said in a bitter voice, "you don't get it. Probably never will. You're young and stupid and have a lot to learn about how the galaxy works, Garrus. And, while part of me would enjoy watching the galaxy teach you what it's really all about, I know…well, I know you've also got fight in you. You've got a chance to make something out of yourself." He turned away, his gaze darkening. "Look, whatever you end up doing after we catch Saren…after this ride is over…don't end up like me. Burnt out. So hung up on my own failings that I can't see…couldn't see…that I'm needed by the galaxy."

He paused his pacing. Despite calling me stupid, I took it was a good sign I was back to being "Garrus." His crimson eyes flicked back to my face. I realized, suddenly, that it mattered to him that I heard him out. Like he was confessing something to me and he needed the catharsis. Strange, that.

"Look," he sighed. "Shepard is no danger from me. Never was, really. When I pulled my gun on her, I realized that my people…you know, the ones I thought I hated, the ones I'd given up on…well, I realized I hadn't. That they still mattered to me. I was willing to kill the only person in the whole damn galaxy that I respected because I thought it might save them. Save them from their stupidity and brokenness."

His eyes grew distant.

"And, well, when she lowered her gun…I realized I wouldn't shoot her. I couldn't. Not only because she was right about Saren. But because she trusted me to see that she was right. She believed it so completely that she was willing to stand at the end of my shotgun and look me in the eye. She wasn't daring me to shoot her – it wasn't that at all. I probably would have, if she had. Instead, it was – "

"—a calculated risk," I mumbled.

"Sure," he grumbled, "and not really the kind of gesture you can say no to."

He looked away.

"She could have sent me back to the ship, after that. But she didn't. No matter what happens next, I'll always be grateful to her for that. She let me have a shot at Saren."

"He got away," I pointed out, all bitterness again.

Wrex nodded.

"Not for long. Not if she has anything to say about that. You've got to remember, he got one of hers today."

"I remember," I muttered.

"Dunno what you could tell from the comm chatter, but at the end, Saren had her by the neck. That could've been it for this whole damn adventure."

"Dangled her over the edge of the tower," Wrex continued with something like wonder in his voice.
"If it had been any other human…hell, Vakarian, she should be dead. But she had other plans."

He chuckled.

"Heh. She punched him right in the mandible. Seriously, Vakarian, it was…well…she's got a quad, I'd say. I wouldn't bet on Saren in this race."

"No, I know, I just…"

Wrex fixed me with a stare, waiting on me to finish.

But I didn't really have any idea what I was trying to say, myself. Instead, I just shook my head and strode across the cargo bay to where Shepard had thrown her helmet and shotgun. The shotgun was damp and smudged with mud. And blood.

Not knowing what else to do, I took it over to Ashley's weapons bench and helped myself to her tools, cleaning the weapon with even more care than I usually took with my own weapons—and that's saying something. A precision born from rage. And maybe helplessness. I concentrated on the weapon, on the springs and mechanisms, on realigning the mods. When I was done, it looked like it had just come off the shelf. All traces of Virmire removed from it.

If only everything was so easy.

I ignored the looks some of the Alliance personnel shot in my direction as I made my way towards the Captain's quarters. It wasn't so much outright animosity – more a sense they resented my intrusion on their grief.

Humans grieve so differently from us, Sol. I didn't see much action during my time in basic—not as much as Dad, who'd mopped up the aftermath of the Relay 314 Incident—but we had one mission against a pirate base go very, very south for our ground team. It hadn't been my rotation (the first of many bullets dodged, maybe). But that meant we were left to deal with survivor's guilt on top of the knowledge that the entire squad had been taken out. Lots for the sparring rings were drawn up quickly by the officers, and we'd all fought each other with a brutal recklessness.

But humans don't mourn with violence. Instead, there was an unnatural quiet creeping into every corner of the ship. Whispers were exchanged as more and more crew members were filled in about Kaiden's death.

I walked by Kaiden's unoccupied post. Eventually, someone would need to be assigned to replace his role on diagnostics. But, for now, it remained empty – like a shrine. Shepard would be passing Kaiden's spot every time she came to her quarters, I realized. And any of the crew would have a clear sightline to the same spot whenever they entered the mess area for meals.

I pressed the call button on the door and it opened. I'd never been in Shepard's quarters before: they were unremarkable and professional. Not a single personal item to indicate it was hers over Anderson's. She was seated at the data terminal as I entered. She finished whatever she was typing and turned around to face me. Her face was pale, her eyes dark and cold. On her neck, there were purpling bruises – marks I recognized from the talons of my own kind.

Turians don't bruise like humans do. But I hoped, viciously, that she had fractured his face plate. And I hoped it hurt like hell.

I looked down at the shotgun I cradled in my talons. Suddenly, my gesture seemed small and stupid. I couldn't understand why she didn't hate me. Her father had been killed by turian extremists. And now Saren had just made this fight personal for her. For all of us. Turians. Always turians.

I remembered how, on that beach, all it had taken was the threat of him turning on us for us to call start calling Wrex "the krogan" – as if we had forgotten his name. I could have been "the turian" to her. But I never was. If humans had killed one of my parents, if we had been chasing a human spectre instead of a turian one…I knew that I wouldn't have been able to do that. He'd been "the krogan" to us.

But she'd turned him back into Wrex. By listening to him. By lowering her gun even while he had his trained on her face.

She should have hated me. But she didn't.

"I…"

I began, but I didn't know what to say. So I gave up, handing her shotgun to her.

"Here."

She grabbed it, placing it on the desk beside her.

"Anything else?"

I shook my head, turning to leave as she turned back to her terminal.

Then, as I reached the door:

"Wait, Vakarian, did you…clean it?"

I shrugged, but the gesture was useless – she didn't look up at me. Instead, she looking down at the shotgun that now lay beside her terminal. I couldn't see her face, but, suddenly, she lifted the shotgun to her face, pressing it against her forehead for a moment. She inhaled a ragged breath I knew would smell of gun oil and metal.

I took a step towards her. I don't really know why. All I know is that I was suddenly overwhelmed by this urge to tell her it would be alright. A lie, maybe. And certainly not very professional, I know. But to see her, of all people, feeling this way…Damn it, all I wanted to do was stop the hurt I could see flooding into every filament of her. Like watching a fire in the rain, struggling to stay alight.

Then, the next instant, she'd set the shotgun back beside her terminal. She stood, hand outstretched towards me. It was a strange gesture. I took it, shook it slowly, eyeing her cautiously. She gave a small, quiet smile, laying her other hand on top of mine and squeezing, for a moment.

"I'm glad you're here, Vakarian."

I nodded at her. She let go, turning back to the terminal, but letting out a breath that was deeper and steadier than the one she'd released before.

And I left, making my way back to the cargo bay quietly, trying not to disturb the hush that settled over the crew as the news about Kaiden continued to filter through their ranks.

- G.

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