A/N

Three chapters updated today: 39 - 41. :-)


GV: So…

CS: Good morning, Vakarian. Before you ask, yes.

CS: Yes I do have many, many regrets.

CS: And all the headaches. The doctor here is so enraged I re-opened my hand that she's refusing to give me a hangover stim.

GV: What happened, exactly?

CS: You haven't seen the news feeds yet?

GV: Not yet. Just got up. Had to spend my evening dealing with a drunk spectre.

GV: What's in the news feeds?

CS: Articles started pouring in yesterday.

CS: Sovereign was an advanced geth ship.

CS: Officially.

GV: What the hell? I'm pulling up the feeds now.

GV: You've got to be kidding me.

CS: Wish I was. The Council doesn't want to panic people.

GV: That feels…stupid. But it's got to be about keeping your mission to find the Reapers under wraps, right?

CS: Mission? What mission?

CS: My "Hunt and Destroy the Reapers" mission has been downsized to "fact-finding" in the Terminus System.

CS: Which means no STG teams. No additional resources beyond a "typical" allocation.

CS: And I only have thirty days with the Alliance crew before the brass "re-evaluates" their status.

GV: Okay, I'm beginning to understand why you trashed Flux.

CS: Trashed is really a strong word.

CS: I still have the visions, you know. They aren't as strong, maybe, but almost every night they come as nightmares. I watch the galaxy being destroyed over and over again.

CS: But I could handle it, before. Because I knew there was something we could do to break the cycle. It started with stopping Saren .We've done that. And then…finding the Reapers…preparing to fight them…that's obviously what we need to do next.

CS: But the Council doesn't see it. After meeting with them yesterday…I just…I didn't want to go back to the nightmares. I couldn't. Not now. Not now that I understand that there might be nothing I can do to stop them from becoming reality.

CS: I've never done anything like that before. Not even on some of my more…wild…shore leaves from N-School.

GV: As rages go, I've seen worse. You punched a batarian (who had it coming, witnesses all backed you up) and trashed a quasar machine.

GV: Which reminds me. I'm not really checking up on you. I'm really just messaging you because I need your personal authorization code for the Alternative Measures form.

CS: Okay…this is vaguely coming back to me…

GV: Doran has agreed not to press charges as long as you pay for the quasar machine. Plus any lost earnings from the machine being out of commission for several hours. Of course.

GV: Honestly, I probably could have convinced Vorlan to let it go - he does still owe you after that gambling machine thing - but he's rebuilding a business after the Citadel attacks and, come on Shepard, I know you've got to be richer than god after all those mineral surveys …

GV: Plus, if Flux goes under, the only place to get a drink close to C-Sec headquarters will be Chora's Den.

GV: Would you really do that to me, Commander? Really?

CS: Alright, alright. I'll sign your damn form. But only because Dorlan is an excellent dancer.

GV: Dancer? I have so…so…many questions.

CS: Yup, well, last time there, I was able to drag Liara on to the dance floor. Eventually. But I'm pretty sure she only started dancing because she was jealous of how amazing Dorlan and I were together.

GV: I am very tempted to abuse my position here at C-Sec and put in a requisition for the security feed for that particular event. What day and time exactly would you say you were there?

CS: Tell you what, Vakarian, I'll save you the trouble. Next time Normandy docks at the Citadel, we'll all go to Flux for some dancing, okay?

GV: Hate to break it to you, Shpeard, but I've got some serious moves.

CS: Oh, it's a dance battle now, is it? You're on.

GV: Wait…a "dance battle"? Please tell me that's actually a thing for humans. That would totally make my week.

CS: Of course it is. Dance battles are an ancient human tradition. Anyhow…that's Dorlan taken care of…what did we figure out for the batarian and his face?

GV: He's in a holding cell. Turns out there's some outstanding warrants as an accomplish in a slavery ring. He may have been trying to recruit that asari as a contact.

GV: Even completely inebriated, you manage to do some good for the galaxy.

CS: Yeah. Won't exactly matter when the Reapers kill us all.

GV: No, I guess not.

CS: You know, as a spectre, I don't have to sign your form. He could apply to the Council for compensation.

GV: Yes. But then I'll need to complete the Application for Damages and the Waiver of Charges due to Council-Related Activities and the Requisition of Private Assets forms instead. I'd really rather only have to file one piece of paperwork today.

GV: If it's all the same to you.

CS: Alright, alright. I'll take pity on you. Send me the form.

CS: There. Signed. Done.

GV: Are you going to be okay?

CS: Yes. Just because the Council is going to be idiots, doesn't mean I have to be.

CS: I'll make do with what I have. I'll make it be enough.

CS: But it does mean I need to push up my timeline. Doctor is releasing me this afternoon, and I think we'll push off as soon as we can.

GV: Ah. Can I come by the dock after my shift? To see the Normandy off.

CS: Of course.

CS: Thanks, Garrus.

GV: Anytime, Shepard.

Chat ended.