XII

Auld Lang Syne: Old Acquaintance

Breakfast was almost tolerable the next morning, but when Garrus looked at the way Tali had to eat it, it was enough to take away his appetite. They didn't have clean rooms on the Normandy. She couldn't take off her helmet. All her rations had to be pureed so she could drink them through a sterilized straw. It always put Garrus a little off. Half the point of any meal was the texture of it.

She didn't usually complain, but she was quieter than usual this morning. She didn't fidget or put together an omni-tool program as she ate, and kept her responses to the crew greetings short. She complimented his ariita, saying she'd missed it on the Neema, the ship she'd joined after returning to the Migrant Fleet. Quarians drank a different stimulant, sweeter. She'd made it for him on occasion as well, but Garrus had never taken to it.

Instead of talking, Tali focused on a message on her omni-tool as if she was trying to look right through it. Garrus knew what it was, and he didn't bother her. When he'd finished, he just said her name and got up to return his tray.

She was absorbed enough that Garrus hardly expected her to notice, but she got up at the same time he did. She thanked Gardner for her breakfast and followed him into the battery. Then she shut the door behind her, and twisted her wrist. The messaging program disappeared, and Garrus saw a familiar scanning program come up in its place.

"It's clean," Garrus told her. "What you say here doesn't go directly to EDI's intelligence-processing centers or Miranda's computer. Can't stop EDI from saving what she hears, though. Only Shepard can do that."

As usual when mentioned directly, EDI chimed in. "My reassurances may carry little weight, but you should feel free to converse normally, Tali'Zorah. Yeoman Chambers tells me that open communication is essential for the mental and emotional health of the Normandy's crew."

Tali's retort was acidic. "I don't know how freely I can converse knowing that a Cerberus AI is listening to everything we say." She waved a slender hand. "Fine. It's not like I wasn't open about my concerns yesterday in the briefing room. Cerberus already knows I'm skeptical about this alliance, and I don't have any intention of fighting them." She paused, then under her breath added, "Now."

She looked around the battery. "You get the whole battery to yourself," she asked, changing the subject. "I have to bunk in the regular dormitory."

Garrus chuckled. "It's an advantage of signing up early."

Tali put a hand on her hip and leaned into it. The move did a good job of showing off her new suit—and how she looked in it. No one except the asari really remembered how the quarians looked inside their environment suits, but most of the women Garrus had seen had nice shapes. Two years older now, Tali wasn't the kid she'd been on the SR-1, but she was still a little young. But that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the view.

"It suits you," she remarked, referring to the battery. "All dark metal and one, enormous gun." He heard the smile in her voice over the sadness and exhaustion. "How are you?"

It was hard to read a quarian's facial expression. You had to rely more on vocal cues and body language with them. But Garrus felt her eyes hovering over his face. He shrugged. "Just great. You and me and Shepard, flying into no man's land to kill a Reaper and all its friends. It doesn't get any better than this."

"You always did have an unhealthy notion of fun," Tali observed. "At least it's not geth this time. We have a little variety."

"And you missed the krogan horde."

"I'll try to contain my disappointment," Tali laughed. "I've missed you, Garrus."

Garrus smiled. Tali had been a breath of fresh air on the SR-1. She could do things with eezo and an omni-tool like no one he'd ever seen, and she'd picked up a knack for a shotgun on the road. It was good to see her. "It's been a long time."

Tali regarded him. "Longer for some than for others, I think," she said softly. Garrus's fingers twitched. He resisted the impulse to touch his face.

"Yeah, well, C-Sec got a bit dull. Decided I needed something more exciting for a change."

"Was that before or after they suspended processing on your Spectre application?" Tali asked. Garrus stared at her. Tali's visor tilted down. "I did some checking up when you went dark. You're not the only one who can play detective, you know. And after Shepard, after what you said—I was worried. I don't have so many friends off the Migrant Fleet that I can afford to lose track of them."

Garrus swallowed, unable to meet the bright points of light behind her visor that lit her eyes up for conversational convenience.

On Omega, you forget that you matter to anybody else.People go to Omega to leave their pasts behind. Officially, Garrus had gone to shut down a drug ring, but in some ways it'd been easier to stay.

Away from a Spectre application process 'suspended indefinitely,' all the places Shepard had ever been and wasn't anymore, the other side of the galaxy from Hierarchy space. And away from the questions from the one or two people like Tali that still cared. You can lose yourself in the noise. As ugly as it is, sometimes you'd rather hear the screams in the void than the ones in your head.

But it left Tali and everyone else who gave a damn hanging in the breeze. Now you're back with more screaming than ever and you still have to deal with the questions.

Sounds about right.

"It wouldn't have been the same without Shepard, anyway," Garrus answered finally. "After seeing what the Council is—you can't really go back. Thought I could do more good on my own." He shrugged.

"And now with Cerberus," Tali said. The question was implied.

"No," he answered. "I'm here for the same reason you are, Tali. For Shepard, and to fight the Reapers."

Tali paced the battery. "I didn't want to believe it," she said. "That the Collectors are really working for the Reapers." He heard the same dark fear in her voice that he'd felt on Horizon. Like Shepard, like him, Tali had seen the devastation of the Citadel, although she'd been on the Normandy, in the battle with Joker and Adams and all the ships shooting at Sovereign itself instead of against Saren. She knew what the return of the Reapers meant.

"It's true," Garrus confirmed. "We saw their husks on Horizon. Mordin's confirmed the geth were using Reaper tech to make them during Saren's campaign. And we heard one—a Reaper that took control of the Collector soldiers like Sovereign took control of Saren at the end. It called itself Harbinger. It knows Shepard by name, and it wants her dead."

Tali drooped. "Keelah," she sighed. "I don't know that I wouldn't prefer it if this was all some Cerberus conspiracy."

"That's what the Alliance thinks. That's what Kaidan thought when we ran into him on Horizon. But he was out of action for most of the attack. He didn't see what we saw."

"He blamed her for it?" Tali asked, looking up at him, wide-eyed. "As if Shepard would actually—how is she doing?"

"Bad. She hates Cerberus more than Kaidan ever could, but he wouldn't even let her explain. It's the second time she's had the door slammed on her when she might have had an out, from what I hear."

Tali wrung her hands. "I felt bad about Freedom's Progress," she confessed.

Garrus blinked. "What? No. I mean she already tried to go to Anderson and the Council," he explained, realizing what she meant. "The Alliance isn't even acknowledging she's back, and the Council's given her back her status in name but restricted her to the Terminus systems and refused to offer any support. I wasn't talking about you. I heard about your run-in on Freedom's Progress. It sounds like you had your own problems there."

"We did," Tali confirmed. "The mechs Veetor set up to defend him from the Collectors killed or wounded most of my squad before Shepard could take them all out. I couldn't have engaged Cerberus there even if it had looked like Shepard needed me to do so—but she didn't look like a hostage. She was leading the team. I thought she must be there willingly. I was worried, but my first priority had to be to get Veetor back to the Migrant Fleet."

Garrus hummed. "Unfortunately, things are a little more complicated than that. Shepard's in charge of the team and the mission, sure, but there's a number of things they have in place to keep her from just leaving. We're stuck with them until we figure something else out. Or until the Council or the Alliance decides to pull their heads out of their asses."

"Could be waiting a long time then," Tali concluded. "Well. We'll work with what we've got, and we'll watch her. You and me." She held out her hand, and Garrus shook it.

"You know it. Welcome back, Tali." Garrus felt the Normandy slowing then. They'd entered the Tasale system early yesterday evening, and now they were approaching Illium, where they were supposed to recruit the last two operatives for their mission. Shepard's voice came over the comm. "Welcome to Illium, boys and girls. We should be docked here a few days, maybe as long as a week. We've got some more training to do before our team is ready to take on the Collectors, but from here on out, we'll be focused on preparing everyone for battle. We'll be picking up a couple members of the team here and outfitting the ship for the fight, but I want you all to enjoy yourselves while you're here.

"I'm declaring a shore leave," she continued. "I'll be posting the guard rotation later this evening. Make sure you're sober and present for your shifts. Otherwise, do what you gotta do. Stay safe and smart. Don't land in jail, and don't sign anything without reading the fine print first. Otherwise, have fun. Lawson, Vakarian. Gear up and meet me for a recon party in the CIC in twenty minutes. Shepard out."

"Well, this feels familiar," Tali murmured to Garrus as he began setting the gun to rest in preparation for going ashore. "You get called out for fun with the commander while I'm stuck on board the ship." Her tone was teasing, but beneath it Garrus heard actual hurt.

"Shepard probably wants to give you a bit of a breather after Haestrom before you jump right in," he told her. "And unless you've got guard duty, you won't be stuck here on the ship. Everyone's on shore leave. Apparently."

It would be good to blow off some steam, he thought. Hadn't he been thinking he needed some time to get his head screwed on straight? Ask and you shall receive, as the humans say.

His hand twitched toward his face again, and he let it fall to his side. Not that most of the turian women on Illium are likely to be interested in a good time with a dropout vigilante with half a face. I'll probably just go to the range. Not like that wasn't my go-to even before the rocket. Waste of time. Don't know what you're missing until you couldn't get some if you tried?

Tali had been watching him. "We can find something interesting to do together," she suggested softly. "If you want to. I know I don't know anyone or any place on Illium."

She stood there, wringing her hands and shifting her weight. Tali could hardly stand still for five seconds together. She was almost too kind, Garrus thought. Which is more pathetic, that she thinks she has to offer, or that I'm going to take her up on it? Everything that's happened, there's no way she wants to go out partying yet. "Sounds like a plan," he said. "I'll see you later, Tali."

"You can walk me to the elevator at least," she told him, feigning sternness. "We're going that far together."

The two of them left the battery. Tali let him off the elevator in the CIC before heading down to engineering.

Miranda was already in the armory, eyeing the Tempest and the Locust side by side on the small arms table. "What do you think?" she asked Jacob.

"You're not likely to have trouble walking down the street," he was saying. "Illium's no Omega. There are laws keeping thugs from going out and doing whatever they want. At least in the nicer parts of town."

"No guarantee we'll stay in the nicer parts of town," Garrus observed. "For whatever reason, we tend to end up in mafia casinos and strip clubs a lot even in the heart of Citadel space. Usually because some know-nothing kid or eager reporter got herself in over her head."

Miranda made a face. "You're right. You know, the last time we were on the Citadel she tracked down a groundskeeper just because a krogan tourist was curious about whether there were fish in the Presidium reservoirs. It's a waste of time, if you ask me."

Garrus smiled. "Sure, but you really wish she'd stop doing it?"

Miranda looked at him then. Her grimace turned into a rueful, self-aware smile. "Oddly enough, I don't. It's part of what makes her Commander Shepard. She actually cares about all the random people we pass on the street. It's why people follow her." She looked away then, pensive. Then she picked up the Locust and equipped a Predator.

Garrus kept a couple of guns in the battery in case the ship was ever boarded or in the event Cerberus ever turned on them—or they needed to turn on Cerberus. He had a workbench by his cot that he used to maintain all of his weapons and build and test new mods, but on a daily basis, he kept his usual weapons in here with the others. Jacob kept everything in good working order, and he knew well enough to leave the mods alone. He grabbed a few spare heat sinks from their crate, slung his Mantis over his shoulder, and paused to consider the assault rifles. In the end, he went with a modified weapon Cerberus had shipped them a while back—an old Mattock refitted for thermal clips he'd been wanting to try out. If Jacob was right, he wasn't likely to need it, and if he did, he probably wouldn't need it for long.

Miranda had already headed to the front of the CIC. Jacob shot him a sympathetic smile. "She does that," he said. "Gotta keep up or get lost."

"Enjoy the shore.'

Jacob grinned. "Oh, I intend to," he said. "See you later, Garrus."

Garrus met Miranda and Shepard by the cockpit. Joker called out a goodbye as they left. "Don't you wind up in jail, Commander," he yelled.

"I'm not making any promises, Jeff," Shepard called back, grinning.

Joker had docked the Normandy in a clean, white bay in Nos Astra. Usual policy was to leave, find the customs office, and pay the docking fee, but there was an asari waiting for them in the bay accompanied by two guard droids. They weren't impressive—LOKI make. Any real soldier would take the pair of them out in less than a second, but the fact that the asari had them sent a message of power, enough to daunt casual thugs, anyway.

The asari herself was all smiles, though. Dressed in up-to-the-minute asari fashion, a floor-length, short-sleeved dress with cutouts designed to show off her smooth, slim waist, she gave off a whiff of high-class concierge to Garrus, a professional greeter for the who's who of the galaxy, sent by the powerful to the powerful. Someone had noticed their arrival.

She held out her hand to Shepard without hesitation and gripped it warmly. "Welcome to Nos Astra, Commander Shepard," she said in the crisp, friendly, professional voice of hotel clerks, tour guides, and hostesses everywhere. "We've been instructed to waive all docking and administration fees for your visit. My name is Carina. If you need information about the area, it would be my pleasure to assist you."

Looking around at Miranda and Shepard, Garrus could see that none of them liked this much. There was no such thing as a free lunch. All this greeting proved was that not only had someone powerful noticed their arrival, that person wanted something from them. "Why have the fees been waived?" Shepard asked.

"The order came from Liara T'Soni, who paid all fees on your behalf. She also asked that I direct you to speak with her at your convenience. She's near the trading floor," Carina instructed them.

Liara T'Soni. Like him, Liara had disappeared after Alchera. Unlike him, Liara hadn't even come to Shepard's memorial service on the Citadel. No one from the old crew had seen her in two years. She was on Illium now, and apparently rich enough to pay the docking and administration fees—far from cheap for a frigate the size of the Normandy this close to the center of the city—and send a personal greeter to tell them so. I'm not sure if this is good for us or really, really bad.

Miranda had tensed, too, when the asari—Carina—had said T'Soni's name. The reaction had been almost undetectable, and she'd controlled it in an instant, but he'd seen her shoulderblades clench and a tell-tale flick of her eyes toward Shepard. Her heart rate had increased by about five beats per minute. She wasn't afraid, but she was definitely nervous. About more of the old crew joining? Somehow he didn't think so. Tali had had to be approved by Cerberus's people before she could join, and if T'Soni had been approved as well, Shepard would have said something. No. But there was something going on there. Garrus decided he'd keep an eye on Lawson.

Shepard was taking advantage of Carina to gather information about the area. "Sounds like she's doing well for herself," she said, referring to T'Soni. "What does she do here?"

"Liara is one of Nos Astra's most respected information brokers. Nos Astra is based upon trade," Carina explained. "Information is valuable currency, and Liara has done quite well. She was looking forward to seeing you."

Shepard and Carina kept talking, but Garrus had stopped paying attention. If Liara's an information broker—that could be one solution I haven't thought of. He felt his own heart rate pick up. His mouth went dry, and when his palms stung, he looked down to see he'd clenched his fists.

Ever since Omega, he'd been trying to trace Sidonis on his own. Making use of Butler's old nets, Sensat's worms, looking for where that bastard might have gone. The trouble was Sidonis knew all of their tricks and had copies of that same technology, and if he'd never figured out how to use it on his own, he was more than capable of sweet-talking someone else into using it for him. Every one of Archangel's old anonymous contacts had dried up after what had happened on Omega, pushed back into line just like the gangs had intended. And the only offworld contact Garrus had that he thought might be able to track Sidonis had been Lantar's friend first. He didn't think she'd approve of what Sidonis had done. She was as honorable as they came in the shadow world Garrus had operated in for the past two years, and their dealings had made her rich. But Garrus wasn't about to avenge one betrayal by asking for another.

But Liara

Would she help? He didn't know. He thought so. She wouldn't like it, but if she was really a professional, she could do what he asked without reading him a lecture. He had Shepard for that. He wouldn't ask her to kill Sidonis for him, just to find him. In the end, I want to handle this myself. I owe them that, before—

Garrus was brought out of his plans by Shepard's disgusted sarcasm. "Slavery. Wonderful. Talk about your relaxed standards," she was saying.

Carina's mouth kept smiling, but a tiny frown line appeared between her eyes. "We try to avoid calling it slavery. All indentured servants on Illium have voluntarily agreed to a term of service. Most choose indentured service as a means to pay off debt or avoid imprisonment. A contract holder is responsible for the wellbeing of her servants, and a servant's duties are agreed upon before the contract is signed," she said.

Garrus scoffed, and Shepard's mouth went thin. Any world where slavery was legal, the powerful could use coercion and intimidation to subjugate the underdogs. The people down on their luck, the ones new in town, or with no one to speak for them. And anyone in slavery risked abuse, no matter what contract their owners signed. The whole institution encouraged depersonalization, turning people into assets, property. Things. The worst scum Garrus had ever seen had traded in people. Sometimes the law had nothing to do with what was right and wrong.

Shepard's eyes flashed lightning, but anyone who traveled out here learned quick they couldn't right the wrongs of the entire galaxy. So she asked about the city instead.

Listening to the message under the propaganda Carina spouted was an exercise in translation at least. In between boasts about the cultural diversity of the city and the competitive edge traders offered on the goods available, Garrus gathered that the businesspeople here were corrupt, apex predators that would rip anyone stupid enough to fall for it to shreds; that the major crime syndicates throughout the Terminus probably had a large presence here; and that for all the different species walking around in the streets, the asari living here were the only ones that really mattered to the planetary government.

Shepard looked grimmer and grimmer as she listened to Carina's glowing introduction to the wonderful world of Illium, reading in between the lines herself. When Carina directed them again to speak to Liara in order to find anyone they might be looking for in the city, she thanked the asari politely and stalked away, scowling.

"I hate this world already," she muttered. "Reminds me of downtown back home. All the shiny buildings and smiling faces up where the people go, and right underneath, more filth than you'd believe."

She stopped at the exit to the dock. It was on an upper street that looked over the skyline. The view was just as impressive as Carina had made out, as impressive as anything Garrus had ever heard. The spires of the skyscrapers glittered against a clear sky. The sidewalks gleamed, and shining, luxury skycars zoomed overhead in neat, orderly lanes. The whole place looked like a natural Presidium, which wasn't a surprise. The Citadel looked like the first species that had found it this cycle. This was an asari world, beautiful and treacherous. The brightly colored advertisements against the sleek towers juxtaposed a hunger for power against complacent consumerism.

Working C-Sec didn't do anyone any favors, Garrus thought. He could see it just as Shepard described it. "We were always told that Illium is one of the safest places in the galaxy—until you fall off the grid. Sign the wrong contract, join up with the wrong company, walk down the wrong alley, and it's as dangerous as anywhere else. It's no safer here than Omega."

"You can say one thing for Omega, though. It doesn't pretend to be anything other than it is. In my opinion, that puts it one step above this place," Shepard replied. "Sanctioned slavery on an asari world! Every human country on Earth outlawed that years ago. If they catch anyone at it now, they're locked away for years. At least."

"I don't know," Miranda said. "You have to give the asari credit. Illium is a cultural marvel. Look at this place: the architecture, the infrastructure. Humanity can learn a lot from asari ingenuity."

Shepard glanced at her and inclined her head, reluctantly conceding the point. "It's pretty. I'll give them that much," she said. "Come on. The address Carina gave us is just off the marketplace up ahead."

She walked off, but another asari stepped in their path. "Excuse me. Excuse me, are you Commander Shepard?" she asked.

Shepard blinked. Garrus scanned the asari for weapons. She was unarmed, but that didn't mean she wasn't dangerous. Thessia was about as rich in eezo as any world in the galaxy. Asari were practically all biotic, and it was impossible to tell from looking at one how powerful she was or how much training she'd had. Shepard tilted her head at Miranda, and she stepped closer.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

The asari gave her a little smile. "You are Commander Shepard?" It wasn't really a question, and she immediately continued. "I saw your—I guess you would say your 'aura.' I'd recognize you anywhere. I was asked to give you a message if I saw you. It's from a friend you made on Noveria."

Shepard frowned, and her right hand crossed her body to grip her left wrist. "Go ahead," she said cautiously.

"'Shepard—'"

Garrus saw a flash of orange before the spark hit him. His visor went dead with a shock. "Hey!" Miranda cried out at the same time he did. The pain was over in a second, but when he tried to bring up his omni-tool, a message was scrolling over the display.

ERR. 26: RECORDING SYSTEMS DOWN.

ERR. 642: AURAL SENSORS DOWN.

REBOOTING . . . REBOOTING . . .

The display went fuzzy, and the message displayed again. It was the work of a scrambler, and a good program, too. Targeted, fast-acting. Garrus quickly rerouted the power systems to ignore the errors for the time being, and his visor came to life again and his omni-tool began to function normally. He just couldn't take vid or audio.

And the asari was still talking, in a voice he'd heard before. Her eyes glowed white, as if someone or something looked through her. "'. . . We know that you seek those who soured the songs of our mothers. When the time comes, our voice will join with yours, and our crescendo will burn the darkness clean. Thank you, Shepard. The rachni will sing again, because of you.'"

"The rachni?!" Miranda yelped.

"That's classified," Shepard snapped immediately. She turned her head to look Miranda directly in the eye. "Miranda, please. Forget you just heard that."

The asari was touching her temple, eyes once again an unremarkable hazel. They were alone again. Miranda was staring at Shepard, bone white, more shaken than Garrus had ever seen her, even about ready to throw him across the room. "You—you just had that program, ready to go," she exhaled.

Shepard flexed her hand around her omni-tool, still running the program that had knocked all their recording tech out. "I never know when we'll run into something I don't want EDI to have on her data banks in the first place," she explained. "I can order her not to relay it, but any record that exists can be hacked." She glanced back at Garrus. "Sorry, Garrus. I'm scrambling my feed, too. I don't want anyone to be able to take our records."

Garrus shook his head in undiluted admiration. He only wished he'd thought of it first. "I understand. Just warn me next time! That stings!"

Shepard chuckled. "Only had a split-second warning myself." She turned back to the asari, deliberately putting off Miranda's questions. "Sorry, continue. I'm glad to hear the rachni are rebuilding. Are you somewhere close by?"

The asari shook her head. "The rachni queen is not here. That message is one of many memories I carry from her. I encountered her on an uncharted world. She saved my life. More than that, she gave me a purpose. They are an amazing people, Shepard. The galaxy owes you a great debt for giving them a second chance." She sounded awed. A lot of people were when meeting Shepard, but this woman seemed more impressed by the rachni overall. Garrus had never been too sure about them himself.

In the labs on Peak Fifteen, he'd believed the rachni queen when she'd told him her people had been manipulated years ago. A species with a hive mind had to be vulnerable to confusion and corruption. But in his opinion, that was the problem. Rachni queens did the thinking for their entire species. Without them, the workers went insane and homicidal, but if the queens were manipulated—well, then apparently you got the Rachni Wars. He'd understood Shepard's reluctance to kill the last breeding female alive. Even Wrex had, when it came right down to it. But all of them had recognized she'd made a risky decision. If they could find the rachni now, it would be a good idea to keep tabs on them.

As if she'd read his mind, Shepard asked the asari, "Can you tell me where the rachni are?"

The asari made a face. "I'm afraid not. I don't even have that information myself any longer. After I met the rachni queen that information was . . . removed. It's not painful, but I simply don't remember. I'll remember when I need to, and her caution is understandable. The galaxy isn't yet ready for the return of the rachni." From her expression, she wasn't as comfortable with this as she made out, and Garrus had to admit: it was unsettling that the rachni queen could not only place a psychic message inside this woman's head but manipulate her memories.

Miranda was scowling. "I'll say," she muttered under her breath.

Shepard's eyes flitted to her, but she didn't address it. She kept talking to the asari—if she didn't have explicit memories, she could know something that would give them a clue about where she'd been. Unfortunately, the woman didn't have anything else helpful to say. Her ship had been attacked by pirates, which could have happened anywhere in the Terminus systems and on many routes in the Traverse. Possibly elsewhere, although the only pirates that ventured into Council space were the ones that were very, very good or the ones that got caught.

The only other interesting thing the asari had to say was that she'd changed her career after her encounter with the rachni. Previously a courier, she was now working as a sort of liaison for them, helping them to purchase goods they couldn't produce for themselves. "I am happy to help," she said. "My life as a courier was empty and shallow. Now I'm helping a great race rebuild itself."

Shepard looked troubled. "You were really comfortable walking away from your old life?" she wanted to know.

Garrus saw her angle. Granted, it has to be a life-changing experience. Saved from pirates and sharing a psychic experience with a race that's supposed to be extinct. Especially for an asari. But we don't know much about what the rachni can do anymore.

The woman simply smiled, though. "You're concerned that the queen is controlling me. I understand, but it doesn't work like that. Our minds were in perfect harmony. I saw their beautiful spirit and their need. I knew what I had to do. If some part of that is suggestion, then it was a side effect from their efforts to save my life. I am happy," she assured Shepard.

Shepard pursed her lips, but it was clear there was nothing else they could learn from the asari. She said goodbye to the woman, and she left without ever giving her name. Probably deliberate, Garrus thought. She wouldn't want to be traced with what she's doing now.

Only then did she turn to face Miranda, who burst out immediately. "We knew they found a rachni queen on Noveria, bred soldiers that later went insane due to lack of contact with her. We received or appropriated some shipments, and the project was later scrapped when we learned the soldiers were both sentient and impossible to control, but when we heard you'd blown up Peak Fifteen, we assumed you killed the queen. You let it go?" She was furious.

Shepard's arms were folded. "Obviously," she said coolly. "The rachni that attacked the galaxy were indoctrinated according to their queen's genetic memory. Conditioned to destroy. She's not. I wasn't about to commit genocide."

"If they rise up again—"Miranda started.

Shepard raised her chin. "Yeah, yeah. I got that speech from both Wrex and the Council two years ago. It's done now. It's over. And I trust you'll keep everything we've discussed here today between us." Politely worded, it was still definitely an order, and Miranda bristled.

"Humanity needs to be prepared if the rachni prove to be a threat again!"

"Humanity—strike that, most sentient species," Shepard said, correcting herself, "have a tendency to jump the gun. Maybe not the asari," she mused. "They have an entirely different set of problems. The rachni deserve the opportunity to find out what they can be free of the Reapers. Without humanity and half a dozen other species diving in to wipe them all out again. Or put them in more sick experiments."

The last sentence was too pointed to miss, and Miranda subsided. She searched Shepard's face, and Garrus saw everything in her droop again at what she saw. "You really don't trust us, do you?" she asked quietly.

The silence stretched for a moment, then Shepard inclined her head, just a little. "Cerberus? The Illusive Man? Not at all. You? I'm starting to consider it."

Miranda's mouth twisted. "I suppose I should thank you. For that much at least."

"Do you want to go ahead to meet with Lanteia alone, or do you want us there for that?" Shepard asked her. That was when Garrus realized this wasn't just a recon group.

"Shepard—"

"It's Miranda's business," she said shortly.

"My business, but if I want you, he's definitely coming," Miranda said ironically, jerking her head at Garrus. It wasn't a question.

"Shepard—" Garrus started again.

"Garrus," she said without inflection, but he heard her message loud and clear. It isn't up for discussion. Miranda and Shepard had had that conversation Garrus had recommended, and Shepard had her own ideas about how to resolve their problems.

Back on the SR-1, Garrus could count on one hand the times Shepard had taken Williams out with Alenko. Over and over again, she'd pushed Williams, a human isolationist at best and a slight xenophobe at worst, outside her comfort zone. Shepard had made her work with T'Soni, Wrex, with him—anyone but her fellow Alliance. Shepard had also liked making Garrus work with Wrex on occasion. We don't have time for anyone's hangups here, she'd said. You don't have to like everyone on this crew, but you have to work with them. You have to trust them with your life.

I wonder who she's pushing here: Miranda or herself?

Miranda looked at him for a long moment, then her mouth did that bitter, amused little twist again, a face Garrus was beginning to recognize as Lawson's physical indicator of a willingness to compromise. "If something goes wrong, it might be a good thing to have a few more people on hand. I'll tell Lanteia we'll be a while."

"We'll call Jacob and tell him to meet us there later. Does that sound good to everyone?" Shepard asked.

There's an officer. Get someone to fall in line and then—and only then—offer them the thing that will make it easier all around. Offer a bribe and you're weaker. Give an unexpected reward and they love you forever. Taylor was maybe the one person on the crew Miranda really trusted. By reaching out to him to help take care of Miranda's business, Shepard was building a bridge across the gap in the crew.

And by including me when she asks if Miranda has a problem, she lets Lawson play it like the move isn't specifically calculated to make her more comfortable.

Garrus was willing to bet that Lawson didn't miss any of what Shepard was giving her here, but it still surprised her. Her eyes widened. Her entire body relaxed. "I—yes. Thank you, Commander."

"To Liara's then?" Shepard suggested.

"It'll be good to see her again," Garrus said.

"I—it might be a good idea to use this time to shop more efficiently for upgrades, armor, and weapons we can use on our mission, Commander," Miranda pointed out. "You two go on ahead and catch up. I doubt Dr. T'Soni meant that message for the entire Normandy crew. I'll copy you on the expenditure reports."

"You know what we need," Shepard said. "And there's unlikely to be a shootout in the middle of the trading floor. Keep a special eye out for anything the professor can use."

"Aye-aye."

"We'll meet you in Eternity later," Shepard told her. She waved Lawson off, and Garrus fell into step with her as the two of them headed toward Liara's again.

In a low voice, Garrus said, "It's unlike Lawson to turn down an opportunity to stick her nose into your business. What's going on?"

Shepard's lips curved. "Saw that, did you? The Illusive Man knew Liara was an information broker on Illium when I asked about her at the start of our mission. Said we couldn't trust her. I don't know who's right, but I think Cerberus might have a little more history with Liara than they want me to know."

Garrus hummed. "I don't like it."

"Only way to find out more is to ask, though," Shepard pointed out. She eyed the number on a staircase off the market and nodded at Garrus. They made their way up the stairs.

They passed into a clean stone lobby, decorated in a minimalist style consistent with asari culture. There were no business cards lying around, no signs. Information brokers lived on referrals and discretion, but the straight lines of the furniture, the glass on the door, the uncovered floor, and the abstract stone sculpture on the desk all whispered high-class success and efficiency.

As did the fact that the asari behind the reception desk, an older-looking, elegant woman immaculately attired, immediately recognized them. "Commander Shepard. Garrus Vakarian. Hello. Liara will be pleased to see you."

"You're her assistant?" Shepard asked.

"Yes. Liara relies upon me to acquire useful intelligence," the asari replied. "I don't have her network of contacts, but I supply her with supplemental data. It's really an honor to work with her."

So either she's new, Shepard's so terrifying that this woman wants to make sure we know she likes her boss, or Liara's wired her lobby up with listening devices. No long-standing employee was ever so complimentary of their boss, even if they were well-treated and enjoyed their work. The woman sounded like an advertisement.

"What's Liara's reputation here on Illium?" Garrus asked, probing a little.

The asari looked mildly back at him, not even blinking at his face. This one's seen a few things. "She is greatly respected. In a few short years, she's amassed a sizeable network of connections. She could have even more political power than she already wields, if she weren't so focused on her personal goals. But I believe she should tell you more about that, not me." She stood, and extended an arm to indicate they should precede her into the adjoining office.

Liara was standing with her back to them when they went in, on a call that apparently was lower priority. "Have you faced an asari commando unit before?" she asked in a soft, threatening tone. "Few humans have. I'll make it simple: either you pay me, or I flay you alive—with my mind." It was almost a word-for-word recital of Benezia's challenge when they'd encountered her on Peak Fifteen, and Liara's superficial calm was about ten times more effective than her mother's rage had been. Liara hung up on her client, a chill swept through the room, and Shepard cleared her throat pointedly.

Liara turned around. Her eyes went wide, and she blushed violet. "Shepard!" She looked at her assistant. "Nyxeris, hold my calls," she said tersely, shooing her out of the room. The assistant, Nyxeris, bowed and left them alone, and Liara ran forward and threw herself into Shepard's arms.

Shepard tensed all over, as awkward as Garrus had ever seen her. He almost laughed as she reached around and patted Liara on the back twice with a gauntleted hand. Commander Shepard: ask her to take down a geth colossus and she doesn't bat an eye; try and hug her and she panics. Liara drew back to hold her at arm's length. "My sources said you were alive, but I never believed . . . it's very good to see you."

Garrus cleared his own throat. "No hug for me?" he said ironically.

Liara reached over immediately to clasp his hand in both of hers. "It's good to see you, too, of course, Garrus! But—" Unable to look away from Shepard for even one more second, she turned her head back. Her eyes were shining. A warmer reception than Alenko's, that's for sure.

"I get it. Two years gone isn't quite the same as coming back from the dead."

"I'm not quite sure they brought me back to the right place," Shepard said. "In what universe do you threaten to flay someone alive, Liara?" Her tone was light, but the criticism was clear underneath it.

Liara blushed again. "Oh, that! That was just a customer unhappy with the information he received. He'll pay. They always do. Ever since I helped you stop Saren, people have wanted to be my friend . . . or not be my enemy. I've set up a respectable business as an information broker. It's paid the bills since you . . . well, for the past two years. And now you're back. Gunning for the Collectors with Cerberus."

She still turned around and walked away, circling around to sit behind her desk and look at her console. Garrus sympathized. Easier to have something between you and the full force of Shepard's disappointment. He walked over and sat in one of the two chairs in front of her desk. Shepard sat in the other. "You've already heard."

"Information is my business now, and if you need information on finding people, I'm happy to help," Liara told them.

Shepard raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. "What about you, Liara? I could use your help on this mission."

Liara tensed, as if she'd been expecting this question. Her formerly glowing eyes hardened, as if she'd shut a door in her head. "I can't, Shepard," she said firmly. "I'm sorry. I have commitments here. Things I need to take care of."

There was something in her tone that Garrus recognized. He knew the sound of a vendetta when he heard it. Shepard didn't. "What kinds of things? Are you in trouble?"

Liara sighed. "No. No trouble, but it's been a long two years. I had things to do while you were gone. I have debts to repay." She leaned forward. "Listen: if you want to help, I need someone with hacking expertise. Someone I can trust. If you could disable security at key points around Illium, you could get me information I need. That would help me a great deal."

What does she want? Who's she after? For some reason, Cerberus had approved Tali, they'd approved him. They'd approved an assassin and a mass-murdering convict to go up against the Collectors, but they wouldn't approve Liara T'Soni. They hadn't even recommended Shepard try to recruit her, and Lawson, who'd been wanting in on Shepard's operations for weeks, had turned down the chance to meet with her. The Liara T'Soni Garrus had known two years ago didn't keep secrets—he wouldn't have thought she was even capable of it—especially from Shepard. Is Cerberus right not to trust her?

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "What's this all about, Liara? Can't you just talk to me?"

Liara gripped the edge of her desk. "Don't you think I want to, Shepard? This isn't because I don't trust you." She lowered her voice. "This is Illium. Anything I say is probably being recorded."

Garrus shook his head. "Hacking a terminal sounds pretty easy. You really need us for that?"

Liara glanced at him. "I don't know anyone else I can trust. Hacking the security node won't get you the data. It just creates a minor glitch in the system. You'll have a short time to find a local server left vulnerable by that glitch and upload the data to my system. I'll leave my own system vulnerable so that the data can be imported during that short time."

Shepard hesitated. "Give me the list," she said. "If it'll help you, I'll take care of it."

Liara sent her something over her omni-tool. Garrus's didn't buzz, and if he needed any more confirmation that T'Soni wasn't asking for his help here, that was it. More secrets.

Garrus was more uncomfortable every minute, but he stayed put. However she'd changed, T'Soni was the one person he knew that might help him. T'Soni gave Shepard instructions for the hacks. "Thank you, Shepard," she said. "This may help me pay a great debt."

Shepard looked hard at her, then nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll talk to you later, Liara." She stood. "Garrus?"

He shook his head. "I'll let you get a head start on that. Liara, if I could take up just a little more of your time?"

Now she looked at him. "You need something?"

"You might be able to help me out with something, yes."

And there it was. Gun-metal gray eyes square on him, like looking down the barrel of a gun. Shepard looked at him for a long moment. He didn't look back. He needed to take care of this. Shepard had to understand that.

Her mouth set, but she walked out of the office.

Liara regarded him. "What was that about?" she asked him. "She's not happy with you, is she? I don't think I've ever seen you and Shepard disagree about anything."

"You stayed in the lab on the SR-1," he told her. "It's been known to happen. What I want to talk to you about has nothing to do with her."

"Yes, I gathered it was a professional request. I do have appointments today, but since you're an old friend, and you're already here—"

"That's what I like to hear." Garrus cut to the chase. "I need to find someone. A turian. Around twenty-three years old, colonial markings, blue. Two bands on his mandibles and a stripe on his chin. More muscular than some, brown skin tone, broader nose. Should be easier to find; a lot of us are in service at that age. He's not. He might be working as a merc, independently or in a company. Prefers a rifle with a lot of power and a hell of a kick."

"Name?" Liara asked.

Garrus shook his head. "He probably won't be using it. Not if he knows what's good for him."

"He could make a mistake. If he seeks out a friend, uses old paperwork in a public venue, it could help me to trace him," Liara explained.

"Lantar Sidonis."

Liara had taken down the description and the name. "Last seen?"

"Omega. Around three and a half weeks ago."

Liara looked up from her console. Her eyes hovered over the right side of his face. "Omega. My clients usually employ me to dig up information on their competitors or to look into the misconduct of their superiors. But due to the nature of my work, a few of them arrange discounts by informing me of what goes on inside their own ventures. Several large businesses in this sector have been thrown into disarray lately by happenings on Omega. Trade's been disrupted. Assets have been lost. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Garrus looked down at his hands on his desk. "What happens on Omega stays on Omega. Isn't that what they say? It's dead and buried and done with, Liara. Let it stay there. There's only one last loose end."

"You're planning to kill this man, then," Liara said. "Garrus, he's twenty-three years old."

The veiled criticism was almost too much for him to take. "And you're what—one hundred and eight? You've lived barely a tenth of your lifespan. Would you want someone making excuses for what you've done, saying you can't be held responsible? In our world, you have to stop expecting age to tell you anything about a person and what they've done. Twenty-three is plenty old enough to be a hardened killer."

For just a moment, her professional composure wavered. Her lower lip quivered, and she dropped her eyes. "You're right. How old is Shepard, after all? How old are you?"

I turned twenty-nine the week before they were killed. But he said, "You get to the point where you can't measure in years."

Liara tried to smile; couldn't manage it. "I suppose you do. This Sidonis—does Shepard know you want to kill him?"

"She knows."

"No wonder she's not happy with you," Liara remarked. Finally, she nodded. "I won't press you, Garrus. She's not stopping you, so I won't either. I'll find him for you, Garrus. And I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Just find him. How much will I owe you?"

Liara hesitated, and then she held up a hand. "Favor for favor," she said. "I can't go with Shepard. You're with her already. You're taking care of her. To me, that's more than worth the price of this information. I know you'll keep her safe." There was a deep sadness in her voice. "I wish I could go with you. But I have my own enemies to chase."

Garrus regarded the former archaeologist. It's been a long two years indeed. This was a different woman entirely from the shy, awkward academic he'd known on the SR-1. She was sophisticated, secretive, hard, and threatening where she had been sheltered, open—almost too compassionate to survive before. It was almost as if she'd shifted into the matron phase over the past two years; asari lifestage changes often came with accompanying personality changes—but Liara was centuries too young. The only thing that seemed to be the same about her was that she still loved Shepard. That was as obvious as the freckles on her face. "What happened to you, Liara? Back there—you weren't just worried about recording devices. There was something you didn't want her to know."

Liara looked him in the eye. "You keep your secrets, and I'll keep mine. Let's try to keep thinking the best of one another—whatever we might have done while she was gone."

It was so on the nose that Garrus winced. "Fair enough," he said. "Liara. Thanks." He stood, and she stood with him. They shook hands. "You have my contact information?"

"If you still use the old address."

"Only for the people that really matter," he told her. "You'll get me there."

"I'll see you later, Garrus."

"I'll see you later."


A/N: A lot happens in this chapter for a chapter without any combat. This eight-chapter Illium arc we're going into is huge; obviously we'll see some major development on Garrus's personal story, but he'll also witness one of the three major defining moments in Beth's ME2 that I didn't cover in The Disaster Zone. That's not even to mention the subplots—those specific to Garrus himself (and/or Archangel), and the ones dealing with other crew members—both involving him directly and just as a witness.

Good stuff coming,

LMS