XXIX
Priorities: Lifesaving 101
They saw Talid the minute the hovercar landed in the market center of the 800 blocks of Zakera. Fortunately, Talid hadn't made it back to his apartment, where Krios Jr. was supposed to make the hit. Garrus's visor flagged their man, the turian with the highest number of media hits in the square, but he thought he'd've recognized Talid anyway. He was a politician, and he looked it, standing straight in a crisp suit, smiling and shaking hands with a shopkeeper, a krogan in red armor standing professionally about a meter behind him with the bored-but-alert posture of bodyguard.
Shepard stepped close to Garrus and gestured at a nearby storefront, looking at Krios, like the three of them were discussing a shopping trip. Krios immediately picked up on the ruse and orientated his body toward the shop. Garrus kept Talid in his periphery but didn't face him. If Kolyat was already on Talid, they didn't want to spook him. "How you wanna play this?" Shepard asked in an undertone.
Krios nodded, as if he were approving a plan. "Follow Talid on the maintenance catwalks," he ordered them quietly. "The krogan bodyguard will make him easy to follow. If you see Kolyat, you may have a better angle to disable him than I will."
Shepard gestured back behind them at some other shops, then looked at her omni-tool, as if checking a time for a rendezvous back at the car lot. "Where will you be?"
"The darkest corner with the best view," Krios told them, already turning away, blending into the crowd. Shepard glanced at Garrus, and the two of them moved to do the same. In the heart of a retail district, it wasn't difficult, but as Garrus signaled Shepard toward a column likely to have a maintenance ladder tucked behind it, they heard other words over an open channel. "Amonkira, Lord of Hunters, grant that my hands be steady, my aim true, and my feet swift. And should the worst come to pass, grant me forgiveness."
Shepard missed a step. Garrus grimaced. We weren't supposed to hear that. They'd need to have the channel open to keep in contact as they tracked Talid, though, so there was no point in cutting off radio contact. He gestured for Shepard to precede him up onto the catwalk and tried not to wonder what was "the worst" Krios imagined could happen here.
Shepard turned around to help him up at the top of the ladder, and Garrus joined her on the catwalks above the market. Damn, is this familiar. It was Zakera not Kithoi, but otherwise, the situation here was almost exactly the same as his early days in investigation, following some person of interest to get something concrete on them. Or setting up an ambush on Omega. Garrus kept to the shadows, choosing crossbeams where they would have an excellent view of Talid and his guard, but the two of them would have to look straight up and be looking to see them. For once, Shepard walked behind him. This was his area, and she knew it.
A little knot of spectators had formed around Talid by now. Garrus tagged their races and likely occupations automatically. Four turians, a volus, two asari, a hanar. Aside from the biotics of the asari, only one of the turians was armed. Probably an off-duty guard himself. The others were probably other shopkeepers or artists. Civilians. Most looked curious, but one of the asari and one of the turians was definitely invested in Talid's message.
The crowd beyond was clear, for now. Garrus didn't see another drell or anyone skulking around at all. Talid's voice rose above the ambient news of the market. "It's been wonderful talking with you all. I hope you'll come out on Election Day."
Shepard's voice, behind him, was low and measured. "We're on him, Thane," she said. "He's talking to some voters."
Thane's voice sounded over the radio. "Understood."
"You're in position?" Shepard asked.
"Yes."
Talid started moving up the street, and after a moment, Garrus started after him. "I'm following," Krios confirmed over the radio.
Talid stopped near another cluster of people around an advertisement for an anticipated skycar model. He shook hands with a turian and began chatting with an asari and volus nearby. The bodyguard's helmet made it difficult to tell who he was watching. Garrus held his hand up to stop Shepard before she walked on into the krogan's periphery, wider than that of most other species.
"Have you got him?" Thane asked.
"Looks like he's talking to another voter," Shepard reported.
"Any sign of Kolyat?"
Shepard scanned the street below and looked at Garrus. He shook his head. He'd clocked an elcor, three hanar, and numerous of the more common Citadel races, but the only drell he'd seen since they'd arrived in the 800 blocks was Thane. "No."
"I'm moving to another position," Krios told them. "Ahead of him."
All in all, tailing anyone was one of the more boring parts of regular investigative work. No one was really interesting if you followed them all day, and even serial killers spent a significant amount of time browsing the extranet, eating, and eliminating. You trained your mind to log other things in order to stay engaged—changes in advertisements, trends in store fronts, the state of relationships between colleagues or business partners or couples on the street.
In this commercial district of the Citadel, for example, Garrus noticed the Blasto franchise was going about as strong as any crap, cliched series with plenty of cheap but colorful special effects tended to do. He saw a couple mannequins sporting Earth fashions for humans and asari—in boutiques that didn't exactly look low-end, which was interesting. Well. Power sells. He saw a couple of volus arguing with a turian, probably a merchant partner, and a shoplifting salarian skulking away from a gaming store—maybe six years old. He was small game, but Garrus took a quick shot from his visor anyway to drop by C-Sec later. If the shops started complaining later, Bailey's people might have a place to start.
Every moment he was aware of the talk that might be filtering through back channels on the Citadel to Sidonis, the time that they were losing, but the tedium was starting to get to Shepard, too. Her right index finger tapped against the railing of the catwalk, and her right leg jogged up and down. Garrus sighed. Cutting his microphone connection to the radio for a second, he spoke in an undertone, "Been a while since the last stakeout, Shepard?"
Shepard stilled, noticing the slight rattle her shifting plates and weapons were giving off. "Fifteen years, give or take," she murmured. "I was younger than Mouse. One of Thane's drala'fa, and I didn't wear any of this crap yet." She let out a breath of air and rolled her shoulders. "Amazing how often spec ops boil down to running in and just getting the job done better and faster than the other guys. Anything else?"
There was a dry irritation in her voice, but more at herself than at him, Garrus thought. "Try to scan the street," Garrus suggested. "Mark's more likely to pick up a steady gaze—survival instincts. You'll be less bored, too."
He reconnected to his mic just as Thane spoke over the radio. "No problems so far. Do you have the target?"
"We're on him," Garrus reported, moving ahead on the catwalks as Talid started down the street again.
His attention sharpened as Talid's gait changed from the leisurely stride of a politician making a public appearance to the more determined one of a man running errands. Talid continued to smile and nod at people, but he wasn't stopping anymore. He had things to do. Garrus nodded at Shepard and quickened his own pace as Talid took a left turn up ahead.
There was a door up on the corresponding catwalk where there wasn't one on the street, but once they were through it, it was easy enough to catch sight of Talid again. Now he was doing something interesting—in that the bodyguard was the one moving. Talid himself was leaning nonchalantly against an advertisement pillar outside a shop, while the krogan stormed inside. Garrus could see the human shopkeeper jump back when he did.
"Can you give me an update?" Krios asked.
"He's outside of a store," Garrus told him. "His bodyguard is going in." He and Shepard watched as the krogan swept an arm through a datapad display the storekeeper had set up, leaned forward, and collared the human. The human raised both hands, pleading with the bodyguard. "Looks like he's strongarming the shopkeeper."
"I'm almost in position," Krios replied. "He's letting the bodyguard do all the work. That lets him deny involvement."
Talid's bodyguard shoved the shopkeeper back, plucked a credit chit off the counter, and shoved it in a pocket. He walked out of the human shop, Talid nodded at him, and the two started off again. "Kelham might have been bad, but this guy definitely doesn't need to be in power either," Garrus muttered.
Shepard glanced at him. "Gunning him down isn't the answer to that."
As they followed Talid from the commercial district and into an entertainment sector of the 800 blocks, Garrus did another sweep for a drell, but he didn't see Krios or Kolyat on the street below. "Did Kolyat receive any of your training, Thane?" he asked.
"Not as early as I received it, certainly." Thane replied, voice tense. "The hanar did not request his services. And his relatives and my contact on Kahje have reported nothing. But I have not truly seen him in years. I cannot speak for everything he may have learned."
"Great."
"No sign of trouble yet," Krios reported.
Shepard grimaced. Yeah, that's probably a jinx.
Off the street, Garrus heard the pulsing bass of a nearby club. It was just past noon, Citadel time, but that didn't matter in the heart of galactic civilization. Every hour of the day, someone was just getting off work, someone was on vacation, and someone wanted to party. Clubs and bars on the Citadel ran all day and night, and they were always popular hangouts and meeting places. Garrus wasn't too surprised when Talid turned into the bar. He went through another door, and Shepard led the way across an overhead catwalk to get a better angle on their mark.
Talid passed the dancers—some of whom were really letting loose—and headed toward the bar. Walking a ways away from his bodyguard, he struck up a conversation with a turian in a suit as the krogan leaned over the bar toward the human bartender at this establishment.
"We've got him," Shepard reported, disgust coloring her voice.
"I don't have a good angle," Krios told them. "What's he doing?"
"One of his guards is talking to the bartender," Shepard said. The man below shoved another credit chit over the bar. "Looks like another shakedown."
"I'm relocating to the next room," Krios said. "Let me know if anything changes."
He was scoping out the bar for Kolyat. It would be a good place to start tailing Talid if Kolyat had somehow got a hold of Talid's schedule but didn't have his home address.
The krogan rejoined Talid, and the two of them continued on toward the back room of the bar. As they passed through the doors on the catwalk, Garrus frowned. Below, there were three or four other krogan at a table, all dressed in red armor like Talid's bodyguard. Merc ties. Never good.
The bodyguard clasped the arms of the other krogan, and Talid sat down at the table. "He's meeting a couple of mercenaries," Shepard told Krios. "Looks like the same group his bodyguard comes from."
"'Wiping out organized crime on the Citadel,'" Garrus remembered Bailey saying. He shook his head. Politicians.
"He looks nervous," Krios observed. "Could be he's noticed you."
"Or you. Or Kolyat," Shepard pointed out, nettled.
"Also possibilities," the assassin conceded. "There are obstructions ahead. I'll try to go around. Don't lose him."
Below them, Talid had finished talking with the mercs about whatever they had to discuss. He stood with his bodyguard. They were almost directly above him, and so they heard him when he said, "I've got that weird feeling. Like somebody's watching me."
Garrus kept very still. When someone had almost made a tail, sudden movement was more likely to give the game away, not less. "Quick," he deadpanned in an undertone. "Look away!"
Only belatedly did he realize the crack might have been a bad idea. They'd already established Shepard hadn't had done any real investigative work since her days on the streets. He glanced at Shepard out of the corner of his eye, only to see that dry, amused exasperation all over her face. Good. She knows the basics at least.
But when she saw him looking, her mouth quirked up, and moving at a natural pace, she melted back into the shadows and faded out under her tactical cloak. The movement was seamless, perfect, and in a moment, an armored shoulder brushed up against Garrus's, and he felt warm breath on his neck. "I can do you one better," Shepard murmured in his ear.
Garrus twitched. When you tweak a tarlasz's tail . . .
It was just banter. Shepard playing their game of trying to one-up and irritate the other, just like old times. Escalated because she wants you out of your head right now, but still. He knew that. Knew that any sudden movement might give them away to Talid or Kolyat.
The temptation to shove out at Shepard—or do something even stupider—was still unbelievable. Does she have any idea?
. . . Probably not.
So, simmering, he scanned the catwalk on the other side of the bar and the tables in the shadows underneath it, looking for Kolyat again. "Showoff," he muttered to the empty air. She'd already moved on. Her chuckle came from about a meter away on his flank.
Talid and his bodyguard were heading out of the bar now, toward a residential area. Maybe headed home. Garrus let them pass under the catwalk, then started moving through the doors toward the street they would come out on. A moment later, Shepard's cloak timed out, and she shimmered into sight beside him.
The second door out of the bar on the catwalk opened—not onto the maintenance catwalk for the street but into one of the storage and terminal rooms they had up here. Garrus stopped up short as a very surprised maintenance worker caught sight of them. His mouth dropped open, then his eyebrows came down. "Hey!" he cried. "Who are you? What are you doing back here?"
Shepard recovered first. "Uh . . . Citadel Health and Safety," she invented. "We've had vermin reports in storage areas around here."
Garrus bit back a groan. As a cover story, it was probably one of the stupidest things she could have come up with. The human maintenance worker's eyes took in their armor, their guns. When she could've just said, 'Spectre business. Scram.' Spirits. "What—you can't be serious," the man said. "How did you get in here?"
Garrus folded his arms. "If we didn't have authorization, how did we get in? See any other doors?" He channeled his exasperation at Shepard's idiotic story and their escaping target—targets—into sounding like an exasperated government employee being kept from doing a stupid, boring job. Not like I haven't had enough practice at that.
The maintenance worker glanced at one of the Keeper tunnels that ran through the Citadel. "There's the Keeper—never mind." He waved an impatient hand. "Just . . . just go on through, okay?"
"Thanks," Shepard told him, already moving toward the door to the street.
"Yeah, yeah," the worker said, glancing at their guns again. "Just don't let my boss see you."
On the street, at first Garrus thought they'd lost Talid. Then he saw the bodyguard's distinctive red armor, already almost down the street and into a block of apartments. But more than that—he saw the drell.
He was skulking by another public transportation stand, dressed in a leather suit like his father's, a pistol in his hand. Garrus drew his rifle immediately—can't shoot! That's Krios's kid!
An asari near Kolyat had noticed his weapon. She screamed. He raised the gun.
Shepard's voice snapped out over the concourse, loud and commanding. "Kolyat!"
The drell looked up wildly, saw them. Magnified at five times, Garrus saw his mouth set, saw him whirl around and fire two random shots in Talid's direction. Shields flashed blue and went out. The politician hit the ground, but he hadn't been hit—he staggered to his feet and through the door of his complex. It was his bodyguard on the ground. Kolyat Krios vaulted over the body and vanished into the apartment complex after his target.
"Thane!" Shepard yelled.
"I saw!" Krios confirmed, sounding out of breath himself.
"He's heading to Talid's apartment!" Shepard had already found the ladder leading down to the street. She slid down the sides without bothering with the rungs, and Garrus followed her. He stopped by the bodyguard's body. The krogan sat up, dazed. He was bleeding from a superficial head wound, and his eyes were cloudy. He'd be okay.
Incredibly lucky shots for the kid—took out his shields and rang his bell. Didn't kill him.
Striding behind Shepard into the complex, Garrus brought up his omni-tool, found the number for C-Sec Zakera Ward on the extranet in a moment, and called. "Citadel Security, Zakera Ward. Officer Ellen Kontos speaking."
"We have shots fired in the 800 residential block," Garrus said. "We've got one injured krogan bodyguard outside and a potential hostage situation in the apartment of Joram Talid. I repeat: shots fired in the 800 residential block. Potential hostage situation in the apartment of Joram Talid."
"Can you describe the assailant?" Officer Kontos said calmly.
"Drell. Young adult. Male. Name of Kolyat Krios. Blue leather suit and a heavy pistol. Advisory: Council Spectre Beth Shepard and I are going to try to resolve the situation with Krios's father. Requesting backup."
"We've locked in on your location," Kontos told him. "Calling a special response team now." The line went dead. At the other end of the hall, Thane was running toward them. A door gaped open between the three of them.
"There," Shepard said. Gun drawn, she entered the apartment first.
Joram Talid's living area was large. The up-to-the-minute style of the décor was ruined somewhat by the broken fragments of what had probably been some tasteful work of modern art strewn across the floor. Talid, suit rumpled, mandibles tight, was kneeling on the floor, his hands behind his head. A sharp, sour smell on the air indicated he'd wet himself.
Kolyat Krios stood behind him, looking almost as terrified as his victim. He held the gun to Talid's skull, but he was breathing so heavily, trembling so much, Garrus wondered if he'd even be able to shoot straight. This kid's never killed anyone before.
Shepard held her gun steady. Garrus followed her lead. But Krios raised his open hands, eyes intent on his son. "Kolyat."
Kolyat Krios shook his head, blinked. "This . . . this is a joke," he stammered. "Now? Now you show up?"
Kolyat Krios looked a lot like his father. His skin was a paler, cooler green than Thane's. He'd zipped up a suit that was accented blue instead of solid black and spoke in a higher, healthier-sounding voice, but looking at the two of them, it was obvious they were related.
"Help me, drell!" Talid begged Krios. "I'll do whatever you want."
Garrus heard boots in the hall outside. Then Captain Bailey, an asari, and another human man in C-Sec uniforms filed into the apartment. "C-Sec," Captain Bailey said in a calm, authoritative voice. "Put the gun down, son."
Kolyat's lip curled back over his teeth. "Get out of my way!" he snarled. "I'm walking out! He's coming with me!" He jerked his gun at Talid. Then his head tilted as he heard the sound of hover vehicles outside of the window.
"They'll have snipers outside," Krios told his son quietly.
Kolyat rounded on his father. "I don't need you—"
A lamp exploded behind him. Kolyat flinched and turned to look, and then Shepard, who had fired the shot, was right there with him. First, she tripped him with a booted foot to a pressure point on the interior of his calf. She followed up with an elbow to the gut, and then plucked the gun from his relaxed fingers in a second. Garrus almost smiled.
Nice.
Shepard looked down at the politician on the floor. "Talid, get the hell out of here."
Talid blinked up at her, then nodded several times and jumped to his feet. "Yeah, yeah, I will!" Garrus and Bailey's male officer stepped aside to let him run out of the apartment.
Bailey nodded at his officers. "Take the boy into custody."
The asari officer stepped up. Kolyat didn't fight as she cuffed him. He glared at his father, eyes wet and bright. "You son of a bitch!"
Shepard stepped up. "Your father doesn't have much time left, Kolyat. He's trying to make up for his mistakes."
Kolyat snorted. "What, so you came to get my forgiveness so you can die in peace or something?" he sneered at his father.
Krios shook his head. "I came to grant you peace." He paused. He wouldn't meet Kolyat's eyes. "You're angry because I wasn't there when your mother died."
"You weren't there when she was alive," Kolyat retorted. "Why should you be there when she died?"
Krios pressed his lips together. "Your mother . . . they killed her to get to me. It was my fault."
Kolyat stopped straining against the asari officer. "What?"
Krios hesitated. "After her body was given to the Deep, I went to find them: the trigger-men, the ringleaders." He shrugged. "I hurt them. Eventually killed them. When I went back to see you, you were . . . older. I should have stayed with you."
Kolyat laughed mirthlessly. "I guess it's too bad for me you waited so long, huh?"
Krios met his son's eyes then. "Kolyat, I've taken many bad things out of the world. You were the only good thing I ever added to it."
Bailey stepped forward. To Garrus's surprise, he looked more sympathetic than hard or grim. "This isn't a conversation you should have in front of strangers," he told Thane. He nodded at the asari. "Officers, take Kolyat and his father back to the precinct. Give them a room and as much time as they need."
The asari nodded. The man stepped forward from where he'd been updating the force outside and took his position on Kolyat's other side. Krios fell in line with them.
Shepard stared at Bailey. "Thank you," she said slowly.
Bailey answered the implicit question. "You think he's the only man who ever screwed up raising a son? I have to get back to the precinct. Come on. I'll give you two a lift."
"You were the one that called the assault in, weren't you?" Bailey asked from the driver's seat as he flew Garrus and Shepard back toward his station. "We were already in the neighborhood. Figured there might be trouble, but you helped us get there faster. Don't think Kontos caught your name. Isn't Vakarian, is it?"
Garrus folded his arms from where he sat in the back. "Took the time to check arrival records, did you?"
"I thought you sounded like you'd been one of ours once," Bailey admitted. "Sue me: I was curious. You look different in the vids."
Garrus's scars hadn't hurt in weeks, hadn't even itched the past several, but now they seemed to burn. "I'm much better looking in person, I know," he said. He looked out the window. Just now, it's probably a good thing I'm unrecognizable. "The vids are crap," he added after a moment.
He'd agreed to be interviewed for one, after Alchera. After they'd edited out everything he'd said about the Reapers, he'd decided he would never help out with another. There were a couple of other vids out there with 'Garrus Vakarian' stand-ins. They usually ranged from hilarious to insulting. "Even if they weren't, though—that was a long time ago."
Bailey hummed. "I'll say. Never got confirmation like with you, Shepard, but Citadel brass thought you were probably dead. Killed hunting drug lords out in the Terminus."
"Not quite," Garrus answered.
Bailey eyed him in the rearview mirror. "Guess not. I know a few people who'll be happy to hear it."
Shepard glanced over her shoulder. "Sounds like you've still got a few friends, Garrus."
"He never worked on my ward, but you don't collar scum like Laurent Georges and bust up the P'Miri trafficking ring without getting a rep as one of the better detectives on the force," Bailey told her. He chuckled softly. "The way you quit made a bit of an impression, too. All right. Coming in for a landing. You can wait for your friend in our lobby." Bailey pulled into the C-Sec garage and found his preassigned parking. As the doors opened, Bailey turned around to look at Garrus. "Vakarian. Thanks for the call. Good to see you still know how to make a report."
Garrus watched him go. "It'll be over the Citadel in three days that I'm here," he told Shepard in an undertone.
"We'll be on Sidonis's ass before it is," Shepard told him calmly.
"If he hears, Shepard—"
"You think a former vigilante from Omega spends a lot of his time hanging out at cop stations, do you?"
Garrus stared down at her. "No," he agreed after a moment. "No. His instinct would be to lay low. Dock and factory workers. Mercs and information brokers if he's brave enough, and he might not be."
"If it were me, I wouldn't be," Shepard muttered.
Garrus stalked toward the doors of the precinct. "I shouldn't have come. Rumors go through C-Sec as fast as they do any ship or military unit. And it's the job of any detective or officer to nose around in people's private business. If we weren't going to ask about Fade immediately, it was too risky to come here."
Shepard followed him through the doors. "You're right. It would have definitely been better to let Thane's kid murder someone and get locked away for it."
"Instead, his xenophobe target walked away, and the kid still got arrested," Garrus retorted.
"I wouldn't call Talid xenophobic," Shepard mused. "We saw him talking to all kinds of aliens out there. He just hates humans."
"Says the human," Garrus returned, exasperated.
Shepard folded her arms and leaned back on one leg. "Am I supposed to take every antihuman asshole as a personal affront?" Her tone was lazy and relaxed, but that pose screamed out danger.
Basic xenostudies, Vakarian: never tell another species how they're supposed to react to prejudices against them! Garrus threw up his hands. "No! I don't know! The point is, this whole thing was a massive waste of time."
A passing human officer raised his eyebrows at the two of them. Garrus glared at him.
"Not for Thane," Shepard said quietly. "Kolyat didn't kill anyone today. That matters to him. That matters, period."
"Fine. It does. But you didn't need me for this, Shepard. You didn't."
Shepard pressed her lips together. Her eyes were dark and stormy, her patience as exhausted as his was now. "Maybe I didn't. But I thought you needed to be here for this, Garrus. In an office or interrogation room here somewhere, an assassin is begging his son not to become a killer like he is, doing his damned best to save something instead of destroy it. I figured you could learn something."
Garrus threw his arm out at Shepard. "There it is. Shepard, I'm not asking for your approval. Not anymore. I never destroyed a damn thing that didn't need it. I didn't kill my team. I'm doing my best to make things right."
Shepard sighed. She straightened, unfolded her arms, and looked at him. "We will. First thing tomorrow. You have my word on that. All I'm saying is take some time to think about what you're doing. You need to be careful here."
Garrus looked back at her. "I understand you're worried, and I appreciate it. But I'm not you. I can handle this."
Shepard held his gaze for a moment. "I guess we'll see about that, won't we? First thing tomorrow?" She held out her hand.
Garrus shook it. "So long as it's the first thing."
Shepard walked away toward Bailey's office, leaving Garrus to his thoughts. He didn't go with her. She wasn't there. She didn't see it. She doesn't know.
What did she want from him? For him to just forget Sidonis was out there, walk away like none of it had ever happened? Every time he caught his reflection, he remembered it had. He could feel the sickness in his stomach he'd felt that day when he realized he'd been lured away, realized what must be happening back at the base. He could see the bodies of his friends—Lantar's friends—sprawled and bleeding out all over the apartment and on the floors below. He could smell their blood, fire and gunpowder on the air. Sidonis had left Omega with a new name and a ride from the Eclipse and left them to rot.
You promised you'd follow me until the day you died, Lantar. You would have been better off keeping that promise. I'd've died right beside you, and been happy to do it. Now I'm following you, but it'll end a little differently for you.
A C-Sec officer brought Garrus take out while they waited for Thane and Kolyat to finish their talk. It was cheap and had gone cold, but it was still the best thing Garrus had tasted in a while. He ate in the C-Sec break room. Listened to C-Sec gossip for a while. Finally, sheer boredom brought him back to Bailey's office. He didn't know where they'd taken Thane and Kolyat, but Shepard was his ride. She was leaning up against the plate glass of Bailey's office. Garrus saw two empty containers of human takeout in the disposal bin nearby.
Shepard nodded out at the hall. "They've been in there a while," she observed to Bailey.
Bailey was absorbed in some paperwork, it looked like. Probably cataloguing the day's events. "Kid's been through a lot," he said. "I ran some searches in the C-Sec archives. About ten years back, a bunch of real bad people were killed, like someone was cleaning house. The prime suspect was a drell. We never caught him."
Shepard gazed across at the captain. "Ten years is a long time," she said coolly. "Whoever was responsible for that probably doesn't exist anymore." Her words were casual, but the order was implicit.
Bailey didn't seem disposed to fight a Spectre. He's not the by-the-book type, though he's got a detective's drive if I've ever seen it. "Yeah, I guess you're right about that."
Just then, a door whooshed open and shut behind them. Krios walked down the hall and into the office. "How'd it go?" Shepard asked him.
Krios was pensive. "Our problems are . . . they aren't something I can fix with a few words. We'll keep talking, see what happens."
Bailey had sat up straight. Now he steepled his fingers and looked over them at Krios. "Your boy fired some shots," he said matter-of-factly. "Didn't hit anyone I feel sympathy for, but there it is."
Shepard stood up. "I watched those guys shaking down businesses and threatening humans."
Bailey tilted his head in acknowledgment. "But he can't just get away with it."
Shepard spread her arms. "Kid wants to make a difference. Give him community service."
Bailey frowned. "Community service for attempted murder? What jury would agree to that?"
Shepard looked over at Krios, and walked up to the desk. "None that I've seen," she said, tapping the top of Bailey's monitor. "This would need to stay out of the judiciary. Strictly within C-Sec."
She stepped back. Bailey raised his eyebrows, and Garrus caught the shadow of a grin. "Interesting. I'll think about it."
Krios inclined his head. "Thank you, Captain."
The ride back to the Normandy was as silent as the ride to the Citadel had begun that morning. Even Niels didn't venture to break the silence this time. He does learn. Is that nice or depressing?
The rest of what was left of the day passed normally. Gun and armor maintenance, a chat with Goto, Tali, and Hawthorne in the mess at a dinner that was almost palatable. Garrus went through the dance mechanically. He started in on routine calibrations of the Thanix.
Shepard didn't visit him during rounds.
He only realized this when the door behind him opened and he blinked at the chrono on his visor and realized she was forty-five minutes overdue, and the person in his battery wasn't Shepard at all.
It was Krios.
Garrus turned to face the drell. "Something you needed?" he asked. He knew it wasn't friendly. The numbers weren't cooperating, and honestly, he was about out of friendly for the day.
"I wanted to thank you," Krios said. "You had other plans today, yet you took the time to help me with Kolyat."
"I'm glad we could help out."
Krios blinked slowly. His outer lids drew back before his inner ones. "Perhaps."
"I think Bailey will follow through on Shepard's suggestion," Garrus told him. "Might look into Talid's shady connections and illegal activity, too. If Kolyat turns it around after today, he'll probably be all right."
"But you feel you feel you lost time on your own purpose here, yes?" Krios walked toward the workbench. Garrus saw him take in the mod specs on the tabletop in a glance—armor-piercing ammo, upgraded optics. He nodded gravely. "There is someone you are hunting. Someone that could disappear—but must not. This morning, you seemed . . . unbalanced. You and the commander both. I am new to the Normandy, but this tension—strife—between you. I'm given to understand it is unusual. Shepard is reluctant to help you?"
Garrus turned back to the console. He studied the propulsion readouts Daniels had sent him in her afternoon reports and plugged in an equation to calculate likely drift in any upcoming engagement. "Shepard's always better on the defense," he told Thane. "Rescuing civilians in Dantius Towers, on Horizon. Stopping some hostage situation from turning into a bloodbath. Saving someone's reputation." He glanced up from the console for a moment. "Keeping some stupid kid from throwing his life away. She has to be the good guy, give the second chance. Whether or not someone deserves it."
Krios stood perfectly still in the center of the walkway, hands clasped behind his back, weight balanced on the balls of his feet like a dancer. The people who had trained him were the same kind of people that had trained Ripper, and it showed—in the stillness, the quiet, the perpetual awareness and icy professionalism. Garrus wondered if Krios had relaxed a day in his life. If he'd even been allowed to. He didn't look armed, but it was impossible to ignore that Krios was always ready to kill in a second. His eyes didn't waver from Garrus's face.
"The one you are hunting does not, then. Their wickedness must be punished. Does it occur to you to wonder whether Shepard's insistence you remain with us today had less to do with this person's second chance and more to do with yours? She did not interfere in my hit on the Dantius woman."
Garrus glanced at the numbers Tali's cyclonic barrier was reporting and cursed under his breath. "Someplace like the Citadel, she might have," he told Thane. "Arrest Nassana and turn her over to the legal authorities. Probably the only reason she didn't is that Illium cops would've just let Nassana go again."
He tapped his finger on the top of the console, did a couple of quick calculations in his head, checked his work on his visor, then plugged a different firing algorithm into the simulator. An animation of a Collector vessel exploded into starbursts on the display. Garrus nodded, satisfied, and plugged the new algorithm into the Thanix. He turned around to face Thane again, leaning against the railing by the side of the gun.
"Theoretically, I was your best backup down there if something went to crap," he mused. "Investigation, interrogation, tailing a mark on the Citadel. Massani or Goto might've been able to help on one side or the other, but not all around. If you'd needed backup. I get that." His talons flexed around the railing. "But you're right: that's not why Shepard wanted me to stay." And that's what really gets me. If they'd needed me down there—really needed me—if the kid had needed me, I wouldn't have hesitated for a second. Well. Maybe a second. But the main reason I was there was Shepard wanted to stress a point. And I don't have time for one of Shepard's motivational courses right now.
Normally, Garrus appreciated Shepard's multifunctional mode of training. Using every groundside objective as a chance to build the team, and not just on the battlefield. He'd borrowed pretty heavily from the strategy on Omega. Forcing squad members who didn't trust one another to depend on one another. Letting raw recruits stretch their muscles on the safest missions with the best backup. Giving everyone a chance to work out whatever they needed to on the assignments best suited to it. The whole team came out stronger and better, both as individuals and together.
Being held to Shepard's standards of 'stronger' and 'better' doesn't work, though, when she doesn't have the context to decide what they should be. She can't. Not this time.
Krios had been watching him this entire time, face unreadable. "The commander is unhappy to be at odds with you; that much is obvious, even to me. She cares for you. Yet she stands in your way even so—or holds you back, at least. It seems to me she sees the benefit to you must outweigh the consequences of your displeasure. Such resolve is rare, as is such compassion."
Garrus stood up and turned back to the console. Is it just me, or is thanks sounding like a lecture this season? The truth was, he could do with a little less of Shepard's resolve and compassion right now. But that's petty, and none of his business. "Thanks for your concern, but it shouldn't be a problem past tomorrow. Was there anything else? I'm kind of in the middle of some calibrations."
"So I see," Krios agreed. "You are the teeth of the Normandy, on the ground and in the sky. I will let you return to work. I take it Shepard will aid you in your own hunt tomorrow. If either of you ask it, you will have my services as well. I merely wished to remind you of your good fortune before the morning. The commander may be right to wish you to be careful, to believe there is something you might have gained today. She may be wrong. But that she is so careful of you—that is a gift. She is a beautiful woman, thoroughly admirable."
Garrus's hand slipped on the console, hitting two keys he didn't mean to. The recharge time on refiring inflated twenty minutes longer than they needed. Then he turned his head and looked Thane right in the eye. "I know that."
Krios took two steps toward him. "Do you? Are you certain?"
The drell's tone was mild, but the steel underneath it was as clear of a challenge as Garrus had ever heard. Garrus's mandibles tightened. Reckless irritation, anger, and thwarted energy crackled through Garrus like a current. "I'm angry; I'm not an idiot," he snapped. "Yes. I'm sure."
The Thanix beeped for clarification. Garrus didn't drop his gaze. Finally, Krios nodded his head. "Indeed. You should probably attend to that. Good evening, Garrus."
He slipped out of the battery without a sound, leaving Garrus to clean up the calibrations.
A/N: If we got Awkward!Garrus last chapter, this chapter has a whole lot of Garrus-at-work. In the narrative of the main trilogy, we get caught up in these characters as they relate to Commander Shepard. We forget they have lives, interests, and histories of their own. That they might have strengths Shepard doesn't, their own personal lists of accomplishments and contacts, and continue to exist and do important duties on the Normandy when s/he walks away.
It surprised me that Garrus presented so much professionalism this chapter; he's caught up in a lot of other things. Seriously, right now his head is a chaotic war zone of vengeance-obsession and frustration, guilt and self-hatred, moral and romantic uncertainty, and UST. Huh. Maybe it makes a lot of sense that he'd retreat to what he knows.
Happy New Year! Leave a review if you've got something to say,
LMSharp
