Even Garrus had to admit, seeing the change in Shepard first hand was rough. Turians were supposed to be less emotional than other species. Whether it was a product of their militaristic society drilling this into them or their biology, he hadn't the faintest clue. Before joining Shepard, he knew humans were generally thought of as hot heads within C-SEC, wearing their heart on their sleeves. His fellow officers used to tease him about being 'too human' whenever he butted heads with the executor. Until that night the commander slunk away from his own party, Garrus had thought the man an anomaly; he was a better turian than himself. However, the last few weeks' events revealed the truth. Shepard merely became what this fucked up galaxy demanded. A military man. A spectre. And a stone cold killer.

And now with the Rotund behind them and no trace of Jane, Shepard returned to the hard, calculating man they knew during their hunt for Saren. Gone was the man who joked alongside him while sharing his wild schemes. He stopped staying up late to drink and play poker with the crew between missions. And what was he supposed to say? 'Sorry your sister wasn't on the Rotund. But don't worry, she could still be alive and the subject of these slavers' brutal treatment on another ship.' Yeah. That didn't really cut it.

Tali and Pressly were combing over the Charn data day and night. Yet, their mutual silence and dejected looks told him they had found nothing on #1182. She was simply gone. And they had diddly squat to trace her whereabouts with.

They would arrive on Terra Nova tomorrow. And Garrus knew it was his last chance to speak with the two children from the Rotund before Chakwas administered a treatment that would cause them to forget The Normandy and her crew. The boy, Brian, had developed a keen interest in his gun collection and Garrus promised to show him a new piece whenever he had the chance. Since today was the child's last on The Normandy, he decided to bring his most prized possession, an HMWSR Sniper Rifle gifted to him by the first human spectre.

Upon entering the medbay, Brian raced up to him practically buzzing with anticipation. "What did you bring today?" He eagerly bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet. Human children were so curious. It was incredibly endearing. Hell, even Wrex admitted they were 'cute' when the boy asked him if he was a dinosaur. And if so, could he please eat all the bad men. Wrex broke out into a tall tale that, in retrospect, was probably inappropriate for children. The krogan wove a sensational tale of how he feasted on roasted batarian leg. "I devoured every baddie on that ship, kiddos, poured on some pyjack gravy and gobbled them up" then he let rip a beastly belch for dramatic effect. Given what these two children endured, it was probably a god damn fairy tale to them.

"This" Garrus laid out his rifle on Chakwas's empty desk. "Is my favorite gun. It's special because only spectres and their crew are allowed to purchase them."

"Woooooow" The boy's eyes were the size of saucers. "Those are the special ninja agents you told me about right? Like the big-muscle human who saved us from the bad men?"

"Yes. They're appointed by the council. Their job is to protect the galaxy."

With Chakwas's careful prodding they had learned a variety of information from the children. For one, it seemed the slavers regularly sold off their cattle in groups. So Jane's absence wasn't unusual. Her missing tooth, on the other hand, was a curious story. Apparently, it was common practice to chip slaves over the age of 12 on star-ships. Any younger and the likelihood of surviving the procedure was dismal, and without the chip adults were considered too great a risk. This news, learned from an incredibly traumatized woman who Chakwas opted to keep sedated for the remainder of their journey, was a particularly hard blow for the commander. The woman suffered periodic seizures from the procedure and would need something called a crainiotomy when they arrived on Terra Nova if she had any hope of surviving.

But within a few days, when the girl began emerging from her shell, they ascertained Jane's tooth had been removed as punishment for feeding her rations to the girl. That was particularly strange behavior for a chipped slave, and the only bit hope their commander had been granted since the Rotund. Who knew though, as the chipped slaves behavior aboard The Normandy varied from gibbering lunatics they were forced to keep sedated to nearly-functional. Clearly, the slavers didn't bother fine tuning their brutal practice. What a fucked-up roller coaster ride this was turning out to be.

Brian was staring up at him expectantly and Garrus shook himself from his thoughts. "How old are you again?"

"Nine."

Turning to Chakwas, he asked "and how long is that in turian years?"

"Turians and humans have the same life span and very similar developmental stages." Karin answered.

"And me?" The tiny girl squeaked.

"I believe you're around the same age sweetie."

The female child had no recollection of a family and they were left to assume she'd either been born into slavery or captured at an extremely young age. Chakwas evaluated her thoroughly and other than a few developmental delays, she was psychologically sound. Although, her stunted growth would be an issue without an intensive nutritional regimen. Still, Garrus was impressed by the girl. Despite her background, she was incredibly resilient. That was something about humans he had come to greatly respect, their tenacity. They'd get knocked down, shot, stabbed, lose a couple liters of blood and continue to survive. Serving with them had been an eye-opener. Most turians thought of humans as fragile little beings whose skin was like paper. But Garrus had come to see that his own kind may have been in more trouble than they realized if the council hadn't intervened during the First Contact War.

"Right. Well, when I was nine, my dad let me hold my very first gun."

The boy jumped and ran circles around Garrus, cheering gleefully. "Really?! You'll let me hold it?!"

Seeing the stern glare Chakwas was giving him, Garrus held up the gun showing its empty magazine clip. "It's unloaded."

The gun was practically the same size, and probably weighed more than half the child's mass. Garrus knelt down and held the rifle's muzzle and butt so as not to overwhelm the boy under its weight as he took it into his small, scrawny arms. "One day, Imma grow up to be a soldier just like you and your friends. I'll hunt the baddies across all of space. KAPOW."

"My turn! My turn!" The girl bounded over, and began impatiently hopping from foot to foot. Garrus repeated the gesture several times for both children until Chakwas interrupted them. "Its time for both of these rascals to eat. They're skin and bones and need frequent, small meals until their stomachs readjust."

"Awww man." The boy protested. And Garrus couldn't help but smile a very jovial, turian grin with his mandibles spread wide. The kid's stubbornness was a very good sign that, with time, he'd make a full recovery from his terrible ordeal.

"Now now, we all have to listen to the doctor. And I have to return to my duties alright?"

"Yeah. Okay." Yet the kid didn't move, instead he stood perfectly still staring solemnly at the floor. "Am I really going to forget all of you? And this? This too?"

Garrus didn't know what to say. Thankfully Chakwas spoke up while he was staring blankly like a fool, waiting for someone to rescue him. "I know it sounds terrible. But in order for us to keep helping other people and children like you, we have to give you the forgetting medicine. I promise it won't hurt and when you wake up you'll be back home."

"Just focus on the fact that you'll be seeing your parents soon, okay?" Garrus had verified that Brian's family back on Terra Nova survived the raid. And he had to admit, breaking that bit of news to the boy was one of the top moments in his life. Still, this felt wrong. Before returning to his post, he motioned to Chakwas, indicating he wanted a private word. She met him a few minutes later in the mess.

"Are you sure we should be doing this? Wiping Brian's memory?"

"It's not like he'll forget everything Garrus, just the last few months. Honestly, it'll probably be a blessing." Chakwas responded. "Look, I don't like it either. But what choice do we have?"

"He's been a slave at least what, eight months? You didn't see him back on the Rotund. He was a different kid, completely terrified."

"Hm. He stated he's nine but my scans indicate he's at least a few months over ten. I'd prefer not exacerbating his confusion."

"This is a smart boy. If we help him come up with a plausible story, the treatment may be unnecessary."

"I'll talk it over with the commander, but I make no promises Vakarian."

Garrus wasn't sure which was the right call. If they opted not to give Brian the amnesiac treatment and he wound up telling the world how The Normandy's crew saved him, they'd never be able to hit another slaver ship. Yet, thinking of that child returning to the trembling boy flipping out over a bit of spilled water gave him indigestion.