May 28th 2184 CE 01:02

Garrus was taking advantage of a few uninterrupted research hours. Every time he investigated Krul's target when the others were awake, Grundan would inevitably wind up standing over his shoulder ranting and raging about the various ways he was going to kill Thralog. His latest spiel involved some creative applications with a blow torch. It had become far too distracting. He couldn't accomplish anything with the batarian around.

That said, Thralog Mirki'it was a nasty character. Not only was he one of the most prominent red-sand manufacturers in Terminus Space but he also ran several slaver rings responsible for numerous missing persons cases throughout the galaxy. Currently, he was holed up in his private casino on Omega, notorious for being the 'go-to' place for seedy business deals. Unfortunately, he was a wealthy piece of crap. He had entire merc-bands at his disposal – blood thirsty men ready to live and die for credits. Taking him out would require careful, deliberate planning.

Then there was the base's newest resident. She was a quiet presence. Aloof. Once or twice in the past couple weeks, Jane meandered into the living area and offered to help Butler with his project – converting the dining room into a bedroom. He'd let her hold a few nails. But due her injuries, there wasn't much she could do. She never spoke unless someone dragged conversation out of her. And even then, her answers were short and to the point. Garrus couldn't blame her. The spirits only knew what that poor girl went through. If it weren't for Nalah, he'd be completely lost as to how to help her. At the very least, she was no longer attacking every morsel of food that came her way.

The hour was late. He should probably head to bed. While turians didn't need as much sleep as a human, he was relatively useless without a solid four hours. However, he could hear Jane stirring in the room above him. And he wanted to try and crack that hard outer shell she wore like armor. The gentle clacking of crutches against tile floor told him she was out of bed and making her way to the living area.

He was also curious as to how Jane was hiking her way up and down the stairs. According to Nalah, she woke long before the base's other residents. After fixing herself some breakfast, she'd clean up and return to her temporary bedroom without leaving a trace. It was a bit like living with a ghost. There were times he'd forget she was there. Then Nalah would drag her from her fortress of solitude at dinnertime. Jane would oblige, but usually ate in silence. Still, he'd never seen Jane leave the bedroom without the older woman present to help her downstairs.

He was sitting on the sofa in a dark corner. Jane, preoccupied with the steps, hadn't noticed him yet. She tossed one crutch to the bottom of the staircase. It landed with a resounding crack. Then she gripped the side rail and carefully placed her remaining crutch on the step below. Inch by inch she descended until she reached the bottom.

"I have to say, that was impressive." Not wanting to spook her into falling down the stairs, Garrus had waited until she cleared the final step.

Jane's skin visibly jumped. She was obviously alarmed. "Oh.. Oh.. I .. uhh… Sorry didn't see you there."

"It was never your fault."

"What?"

"Any of it." Garrus patted the couch. "I have something to show you. I promise I won't bite."

That earned him a fleeting grin. Jane slowly made her way to the sofa and plopped down.

"I thought you might want a few photos of your brother." With a press of the button his omni-tool whistled and whirred. In a few moments he'd have several corporeal images of The Commander and crew.

Jane was trying to hide her excitement. But Garrus could feel those curious eyes stealing glances at the materializing printout. When the glossy paper finally emerged, he passed it to her eager hands.

The first photo he chose to show her was of Anderson, Udina, and the entire crew of The Normandy minus Liara. They took it before disembarking from The Citadel, before their first mission during the hunt for Saren. Even the ensigns and minor crew members were present, dressed in their crisp Alliance Blues.

Jane traced the image with her small, delicate fingers. "I… don't…. Which one is Jimmy?"

Of course she couldn't identify him. She was taken as a young child – merely nine years old. Spirits, when he was nine, his biggest worry was getting caught bullshitting his way through book reports. Watching those green eyes search fruitlessly for a brother she could no longer recognize, moved him.

He prudently pointed to the bulky man saluting in the center of the photograph. Shepard was sporting his N7 armor, complete with a small armory on his back. He stood tall, proud, strong, saluting into the camera.

"He looks so different. You're sure that's him?" Jane asked incredulously.

"Definitely. How do you remember him?"

"Tall. But skinny. Well, not this tall. At least I don't think."

"The Alliance has a lot of genetic enhancements these days. He probably took advantage of a few before enlisting. Your eyes are the same color though."

She stared at the photo for a few more minutes before turning her attention the other printouts. One was a portrait of Shepard alone. The same one The Alliance was using for their recruitment ads. A much younger Shepard, adorned in his dress blues stared back at them. He smiled cheerfully at the camera, several scars he acquired on Noveria, Feros, and Ilos were missing. The bright-eyed marine was a mere recruit when it was taken.

Her eyes lingered on it for a few moments before turning her attention to the last image in the pile – a quick snapshot they took with Brian and Alice before departing for Terra Nova.

Suddenly, her posture stiffened. She practically ripped the final picture from his talons. "This… this is… You saved her too? You saved Sciffy? I mean 6021?"

"Right. The girl from The Rotund. You knew her, didn't you?"

"I thought I got her killed." She sounded lost, broken.

"You didn't. She has a family now. A home. A name. Alice."

Jane abruptly burst into tears. And the next thing he knew, she had thrown her arms around him. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you." The words spilled out so quickly, he could scarcely tell where one ended and the other began. It was just one big conglomeration of 'thank you.'

Suddenly aware of herself, she withdrew. "Sorry Castor. I didn't mean..."

Garrus chuckled. "No worries. I'm used to humans. You should've seen the hug Brian's mother gave me when we arrived on Terra Nova. If her husband hadn't intervened, I'm fairly certain that woman never would've let go."

That earned him another elusive smile.

"And it's Garrus." Seeing her confused look he explained. "Castor is a moniker. My real name is Garrus. Garrus Vakarian. Although, I'd appreciate it if you refrained from calling me that outside the base."

"What's a moniker?"

"A secret identity."

"Ah, ok. Say, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Huh?"

"That means go ahead."

"It's rude. At least I think it is." The wariness she had towards him seemed to be creeping back. And he hated seeing whatever progress he'd made tonight recede.

"Jane, you can ask me anything. Honestly, I want you to. I'd rather you not be afraid of me."

"Ohhh. It's not that. I'm not scared of you." She paused, chewing over her words. After a few minutes, he was almost certain she'd lost the nerve to voice the question that was clearly bothering her. Then, the words came rushing out as if she couldn't be rid of them fast enough. "Wha... what are you?"

With that, he burst into boisterous laughter. She's never seen a turian before. Given how abundant his kind was in the galaxy, the thought had never occurred to him. She was so new to everything, everyone.

He was suddenly aware that she'd backed off and was now hiding behind her hands – a sole emerald eye peeked out between fingers. "Oh Jane don't worry. It's not a rude question just unexpected. I'm a turian. Wow. I've never explained my people from scratch before. I'm not sure where to start."

Emboldened by his casual response, she re-emerged. "Where are you from?"

"Palaven. It's warmer than most places on Earth. Although, not all. Humans are so versatile, it's crazy. My planet varies between 75 to 90 degrees Fahrenheit."

"That sounds like Kar'Shan. It would get so hot in the jungle that I'd sweat like mad. I've never been to Earth though."

"You'll get to see it one day."

"You think so?"

"Definitely. You know, I didn't really think about it before but I'm sorry you're stuck on this shit-hole station."

"That's ok. I rather like it. Better than anyplace I've been in… well forever. Nalah explained it to me. It sounds like my brother was too famous for his own good. If you don't mind my asking, what else can you tell me about your people?"

"Yeah I bet. You know, back when I served with your brother, we used to have rather educational conversations about our people in elevators. It was the first time most of us worked with other species."

"Oh?"

"I miss it a lot. So, don't ever worry about being curious. I like talking about where I come from. Let's see what else can I tell you? Well, our society is militaristic. Every turian serves in the military. At 15 we attend mandatory boot camp. And all of Palaven is run by the army – everything from schools to the police."

Jane snorted. "You don't say."

"That doesn't surprise you?"

"Nope. I saw you take down Krapo."

"Who?"

"The captain on The Ubralle."

"Oh… is that why you started fighting back?"

"What? No. I rather enjoyed watching you squeeze the life out of that bastard. The only reason I threw that knife at Sensat was because I thought you guys were slavers. Sorry about that by the way."

"You have nothing to worry about. I can't say I wouldn't have done the same in your place. Your aim was impeccable though." He hesitated, not wanting to pry. But curiosity overcame caution. "Where did you learn to pitch knives like that?"

"Surviving. I escaped into the Kar'Shani jungles for a few years. Well, I think it was a few years anyhow. It's not like I had a calendar."

They descended into comfortable silence for awhile. When Garrus spotted the time, he made to excuse himself. "Well, I really enjoyed talking to you tonight but I should catch some shut eye."

As he stretched and made his way across the living room towards the stairs, Jane turned from her position on the couch and smiled up at him. "Garrus?"

"Yes?"

"One day, when my leg heals, could you teach me to fight? To shoot? Mordin put me on some new meds, says it'll fix my bones."

"Definitely."

His answer clearly caught her off guard. "Really?"

"Of course. You should learn how to defend yourself."

"I was… well… I guess now isn't the right time to ask."

"There's never a right or wrong time. Just ask whatever you need to."

"I want to go after them."

"Who?"

"The people who killed Jimmy."

It was Garrus's turn to be caught off guard. "You're not joking are you? How about we start with basic arms training and go from there."

Jane eagerly agreed. And as he made his way upstairs, he couldn't help but think that this was the start of a beautiful friendship.