LVI

Taming Cerberus: Sic 'Em

The second after the taxi doors shut on Jack's furious, anxious face, Garrus realized they were letting Shepard drive an unfamiliar vehicle in an urban car chase.

T'Soni, at first, did not realize this. She clutched at Shepard's arm, which probably impeded the commander's ability to gearshift. "Come on, she's getting away!" she urged Shepard.

"Get off me, and I'll catch her," Shepard snapped, gunning the engine—before hitting the control for the inertial dampeners.

The window ahead showed Vasir's car, streaking out into Illium traffic without regard for right-of-way or traffic flow. It was red, which would make it easier to follow. But that wouldn't improve Shepard's piloting flying after it.

Shepard's foot hit the floor, and Garrus's stomach clenched. Outside, Garrus could hear the air rushing by. Skycar seals were not as firm as the ones on the Kodiak, which was rated for out-of-atmo travel. Horns blared and lights flashed as Shepard accelerated in pursuit of Vasir.

"There she is!" Liara said. "Hang a right! No, wait, left!"

There were buildings less than ten meters away on either side. Skycars a lot closer than that.

"I'm on her," Shepard said.

There was a secondary speedometer visible on the fare meter between Shepard and T'Soni's seats.

160, it read. 190.

"Hang a right," T'Soni urged.

"Backseat driving much, T'Soni?" Garrus asked.

Tali had one hand wrapped around the oh-shit handle. The other scrabbled for a hold on the fabric of the seat between her and Garrus. "She needs it," she gasped. "Ohhh—"

"She's around the corner," T'Soni reported. "We're not going into the construction site, are—oh, Goddess!"

She yelped as the landscape around the skycar went dark. Shepard braked, banked. She hissed, and Garrus wondered how close they'd come to death against a construction site wall.

If a car chase in a Nos Astra taxi is what kills me . . .

He didn't know if it was funny or sad.

Shepard hit the headlights right as they drove out of the construction site, straight into a cross-skylane. Tali screeched, but T'Soni was leaning forward in her seat like a hawk, scanning the horizon for Vasir.

"I'm not letting her escape with that data."

Shepard was sitting in the seat directly in front of him. Garrus couldn't see her expression as she answered, but her voice was tight with annoyance or concentration. "Because if a few commuters or tourists die, what's the big deal, right?"

Vasir's skytrail stretched out into the distance, but it was fading. Shepard was navigating through the skylane, zigzagging wildly to avoid a crash. The Illium sun glared off a few dozen windshields.

"Go go go go go go go!" Liara urged her.

"I'm going!" Shepard snarled, jerking the wheel to cut a corner. The taxi car cabin flooded with the lamps of a half dozen headlights.

"Traffic! Oncoming traffic!" Liara cried.

"I see it, Liara!"

Garrus saw Vasir's car, flying over the skycar highway she'd led them straight into, off-grid, going at least 220 by the look of things.

Shepard pulled up on the cab, and the engine whined.

Then something exploded. Shepard swore, and the car did a full vertical 360 as she rolled it midair to avoid a blast.

I hate when she drives. I hate when she drives. Joker, Niels, where are you?

Tali whimpered beside him. The Nos Astra skyline spiraled like an addict's sand trip in front of them. "She's dropping proximity charges!" Liara yelled.

"I noticed."

At first, Garrus thought the air he could feel on either side, whipping across his face, tearing at his visor, was a hull breach. Then he realized his field of vision would be a lot wider, if that were the case. No, we're still intact. Can't count on it lasting.

The wind on either side was the windows, rolled down so the four of them could observe the speeding death machines on every side without the inconvenience of protective coated glass. Garrus had a moment when he missed Omega traffic. Corporate drones: can't stand a speed limit.

Then Shepard was calling his name. "Garrus! Tali!"

At first, he didn't know what she wanted, then something clunked into place, and he did, and he was moving, bringing up his omni-tool, holding his visor to his skull with his free hand.

The wind shrieked past, and skycar engines screamed. Horns blared in enough tones to make up their own symphony. Wouldn't pay to hear this one at the Dilinaga Concert Hall, though. Wonder if they ever finished rebuilding that place.

He could see the charges—white-flashing heat spikes on his visor. His fingers were working right away, doing the dance they'd done a thousand times before, and almost never with higher stakes. He had less than a second. He targeted, fired, fritzing out the tech on the nearest proximity charge, leaving it a sparking piece of space junk in the skylane, harmless debris for the Nos Astra patrol cops.

The problem was, there was another, coming up in less than half a second. "Crap, crap, crap," he was saying. Somewhere beside him, he vaguely saw Tali—not helping, hunched over with her head in both hands and her suit tech running, flash-freezing the bile inside her helmet for expulsion later. Shepard still hadn't hit the inertial dampeners.

His brain was clear, scanning twice as fast as the skycar was moving. With a vicious twist of his wrist and a couple taps of his fingers, he overclocked his omni-tool, drawing power from his armor's shield generators, medi-gel dispensers, anything that wasn't synced up right now to his visor's targeting systems, and diverting it straight into his overload application.

The heat around his gauntlet was intense, but it hurt a hell of a lot less than a car crash would.

Garrus didn't bother lining up his next targets manually. He let his visor's targeting systems autoselect, and he fired, again and again, hitting charge after charge dead center.

Then, with his armor powered down and medi-gel dispensers inoperational, he saw the three skycars bearing down on their position, all the same matte black as the mercenary armor at the Drakon Trade Center.

Shepard swore. The car swerved. The latest proximity charge spun away into a blur of motion, and all Garrus saw was T'Soni's blue lips moving. Her words were ripped away on the wind, but the emergency systems still powering his suit radio caught them anyway. "She's got reinforcements!"

"What kind of guns does this thing have?" Shepard demanded, forcing them back on course after Vasir.

Liara made a disgusted, incredulous sound. "It's a taxi! It has a fare meter!"

Shepard jerked them to the left, avoiding a dive by one of the merc cars. "Wonderful!"

The windows came up again. Vasir had stopped dropping charges for the moment, and for now, it was more important the car be insulated than Garrus be free to counter her attacks. "The merc shuttles aren't armed either," Garrus pointed out, just as he caught a flash of light out of one of the merc car windows.

Shepard fishtailed, and there was a staccato sound of impacting bullets outside. No breaking glass yet—but if they hit the engines . . .

"But the mercs are," Shepard said. "Damn it, Garrus, why aren't you in front?!"

"Why can't you hit the inertial dampeners?" Tali moaned.

"Diverting power to acceleration and coolant systems," Shepard answered. "Because we're in a fucking taxi! You want to drive?!"

The merc skycars fell out of the limited field of vision Garrus had out of the driver side passenger window. Shepard gunned the engine and dove, sending them hurtling straight into a tollway tunnel, right into more oncoming traffic—this time, with no way above or below the flow.

"Truck!" T'Soni shouted, trying to hunch up in her seat, backpedal away from her belted-down position in the front seat of a speeding taxi.

Vasir, just ahead, had clipped the back fuel tank of a grocery truck. As Garrus watched, the trailer swung out across four lanes of traffic.

"Crap!"

Lettuce and asari root vegetables were flying across the tunnel floor. They were less of a problem than the unchained, two-ton trailer spinning out across the tollway and the explosion of a fuel tank full of explosive gas. Three skycars hit in less than a second.

"TRUCK!" Liara screamed.

Flames, metal, and concrete swirled and flew on every side. The car was rolling again. The temperature in the cabin flared. A light started flashing on Garrus's visor.

Then they were through. Garrus turned to see the wreckage behind them, but the taxi didn't have rearview windows. But at least three more people had just died, and probably a whole lot more.

"If you can't whip a pistol out and fire at the enemy, at least shut the hell up, Liara," Shepard was complaining. "You're making it so much worse."

Tali's whimpering and vomiting had given way to hysterical laughter. "Are you sure they never had a thing, Garrus?" she asked. Her voice was thick and woozy. "They're like an old married couple."

And at that, despite the screaming horns and flashing headlights, the skycar speeding out of the tunnel again into open air, T'Soni turned bodily around. "Why would you ask Gar—" she started, then her blue eyes lit on his face. "You're sleeping with Shepard," she realized.

"Is now the time to talk about this?" Shepard demanded.

"No," Liara agreed, turning back. "Truck!" she yelped.

Shepard sighed. "Again? Hang on, she's flying out of downtown. Let's finish this."

The Nos Astra coastline gleamed ahead. There was a strip of resorts and casinos lined up across it. Shepard gunned the engine, and drew level with Vasir's red car, scratched and stuttering by now.

"She's not going to—" Tali started, then screamed as her side of the vehicle hit. Shepard, trying to force the other Spectre down.

"All hands, brace for impact," Shepard said through gritted teeth, banking the taxi again. She braked suddenly, and Garrus felt metal shear—not on their car, but on the asari's. Flames flared up, and the red car spiraled away. "Got her."

"And knocked out our stabilizers," Garrus said, as the cabin started shaking violently. "Because this ride wasn't nauseauting enough."

"We weren't using those anyway," Shepard shot back. "Much. Coming in for a landing."

She wrestled with the wheel, trying to compensate for the bucking, protesting body of the cab, slow their acceleration, and aim at the same time. "Just another repair bill on the Normandy tab."

"What's another three thousand credits?"

The car shuddered and groaned to a stop, double-parked in a space in a luxury hotel skylot. "Vasir's over there," Shepard told them, unbuckling her seatbelt and swinging her Widow into her arms in the same smooth movement. She hit the control to raise the doors, and Tali just about poured out of her seat, scrambling to get away from the vehicle before she could even stand.

"Much worse than the Mako, so much worse than the Mako!" she was saying.

"Actually, as urban car chases go, it wasn't that bad," Garrus told her, shaking out his own rifle and reallocating the power systems in his armor. "Not that I'll be queueing up for another one anytime soon—Incoming!"

He'd spotted one of the mercenary vehicles they'd lost earlier, circling in for a landing.

"They're dropping reinforcements in to slow us down," T'Soni said. "They've blocked the door to Vasir's car!"

"Out of a dangerous car chase and straight into a firefight," Tali moaned. "Why do I go anywhere with you, Shepard?"

"Because I get the cool tech and run into talking geth," Shepard answered. "Fan out and find cover."

There wasn't a shortage of that, anyway, Garrus thought, though skycars weren't the best option for cover in a gunfight. The shattering windows and exploding fuel tanks could be fun, but frankly, today, he'd about had his complement of fun.

T'Soni had a biotic field four centimeters deep all around her. She threw back her arm in a mneumonic and thrust her hand forward. If the practice wasn't quite as elegant as Justicar Samara's, it was just as effective. A blue, black pulsing field materialized in the ranks of the enemy mercs, and three of them were lifted off their feet, pulled into orbit around the mass of T'Soni's singularity. Tali picked them off with her pistol, one by one.

But the others had scattered now—two salarians, a human, and a batarian, finding their own cover around the lot, and overhead, another cargo vehicle was coming in for a landing on their flank.

"Tali, Garrus!" Shepard yelled. "Crowd control! Liara, with me on the clean-up!"

"You got it!"

"Hey, that's not Chiktikka!" Tali warned him, as a yellow drone, arcing electricity, came soaring over the row toward them.

"You don't say," Garrus quipped, using his overload to take the enemy drone out before it could flush them from cover. "Alright?"

"Recovering," Tali told him. "At least now I have my feet on the ground, and I can shoot the bad guys." She made a charge, taking down an engineer's shield as she did, and plugged him in the gut with her Eviscerator. Garrus picked his own target—a salarian with his omni-tool extended for a tech attack. He fired. Green and gray matter ripped out of a black helmet.

Garrus vaulted a cement block, heading for the enemy's right flank. Tali had her own drone out now, hovering pink and purple in the air, electric weapons buzzing. "Go get 'em, Chiktikka," she urged it. "Good girl!"

Tali's combat drone wasn't exactly lethal, or not always, but it always could be counted on for a distraction. Garrus reached the flank safely, saw Shepard and T'Soni across the skycar lot, engaged with the last human from the first vehicle. But now there was a third, zooming in overhead.

"Screw it," he muttered, targeting the vehicle's engines. He fired.

Direct hit to the vehicle's fuel tank. The effect was instant—an explosion, a chorus of unharmonious screams, and one merc truck veered just enough off course.

"Good shot!" Tali yelled.

"Get down!" was his only reply.

They hit the concrete, bracing for the impact of the vehicle against the side of the resort. It hit a stone and glass balcony skirting the edge of the neighboring level. There was another explosion, and then nothing but the sound of crackling flames.

Then the gunfire started again.

Four more from his and Tali's truck. Garrus's IF tagged Shepard, moving under her cloak their way. Liara, wreathed in biotics, concentrating on an enemy soldier. He lifted off the ground, spinning into the air, and Garrus aimed and fired. Blood spurted from the kill shot, spattering the surface of the concrete.

"Damn it, move!" one of the mercenaries shouted. Then his shields vanished, and his head exploded, courtesy of the M-98.

Tali got another, and T'Soni got the fourth, stealing the final shot from Garrus after he overloaded the enemy's shields.

She didn't stick around to gloat, though. The moment he hit the ground, T'Soni was moving, vaulting a parking row to head toward the burning skycar he had sent through the neighboring balcony. "Come on! We can climb over to get to Vasir's car."

"You're welcome," Garrus told her. She just shook her head. Tali fell into step beside Garrus behind T'Soni, but Shepard lagged behind. She had her omni-tool up and her radio on, and she was speaking over an open channel.

"Officers, this is Beth Shepard, Citadel Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. We met on business a few weeks back. You've got situation reports all over the city: explosion at the Drakon Trade Center; skycar wrecks due to a car chase on the skyways. I've got perps on the strip, setting down on a resort called—"

"Azure," T'Soni told her.

"Azure," Shepard finished, nodding at T'Soni. "They're armed, and they're killing civilians. I'm in pursuit. Gonna try to resolve the situation, but I'm requesting SWAT team backup."

"The police will be out of their depth with this, Shepard," T'Soni warned, scrambling up the broken glass and concrete rubble onto a wide marble balcony skirting the main building of the resort. Garrus followed her.

"Better than letting the mercs eliminate all witnesses," Shepard retorted, still on the open channel. "Shepard out."

"Who was that on the channel?" Garrus asked.

"Anaya and Dara. Only Nos Astra cops we know."

"Dara's just a tracking officer, and we must be across the city from the spaceport."

"Not as far as you'd think," Shepard answered, jerking her head off to the left. "They want it nice and close to the beach strip for the convenience of interplanetary tourists."

"We shouldn't count on the police providing help," T'Soni insisted.

"I'm not." Shepard had taken back the lead. She took a right into the building, the only place they could go, and they entered an ensuite lounge and bedroom module.

Soft music played over a speaker, and on a vid screen above a common area, a semi-naked asari pushed a drell down to a bed.

"So . . ." Tali murmured. "What kind of hotel is this?"

"Azure," T'Soni told them. "It's a luxury resort with an . . . exotic edge. Azure is slang for a part of the asari body in some areas of Illium."

Tali was curious. "Where?"

"Mainly in the lower reaches. Near the bottom."

"I meant, where on the asari body?" Tali asked.

Garrus cleared his throat. "So did she."

T'Soni glanced at him. "You're familiar with Illium slang?"

Garrus shook his head. "It's not restricted to Illium. I had this friend on Omega who . . . well. He didn't always have the cleanest mouth."

T'Soni's lips pressed together, and her expression went sour, as if she was somehow annoyed he didn't know from personal experience. "I see."

Shepard made a disgusted noise. "Through here," she said, leading them through a door and out onto another balcony.

Vasir's car had crashed down here. The nose was crumpled, smoking, the driver side door creased up at an angle that said the vehicle probably wouldn't be up in the air again anytime soon. By the wreckage was a spatter of violet.

"A blood trail," T'Soni said. "Vasir got hurt in the crash."

"That should slow her down," Shepard said, with satisfaction.

They followed the trail down another catwalk. There was a spatter of blood every few meters, and more of it the farther they went.

"She's out of medi-gel," Garrus said, "Or her armor systems aren't functioning."

"And she's lost a lot of blood. We have to be getting close," T'Soni agreed.

Shepard sniffed. "She's tough. I'll give her that much."

"She's a Spectre."

Spectre, Garrus thought. Once, it had been everything he'd wanted—Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, an agent for the Council, specifically mandated to do whatever it took to ensure galactic peace. No rules, no regulations, no bureaucratic crap in between him and what he knew was right. These days, the shine was starting to come off of the dream. He thought about all the bodies they'd left behind them today, back in the Drakon Trade Towers and on the skyway. Vasir wouldn't pay for any of it. Neither would Shepard, even though they were technically outside of Council jurisdiction. Who the hell was there to stop her from dropping proximity charges on a crowded highway? Blowing up entire buildings of civilians? Was she working for the Shadow Broker on the Council's behalf or on her own initiative? How would the Council know in the first place?

Then there was the Council itself. He'd been losing trust in them long before he ever met Shepard. Once he had, though, it'd become stupidly clear: the Citadel Council didn't care about the preservation of galactic peace. Only the consolidation of galactic power, maintaining the status quo. Rule of law, civilian protection, and little things like truth and justice could burn.

Not that you're any better now. No rules, no regulations, leaving bodies behind like a skytrail. Civilians. Prisoners. Colonials. Just another Spectre, minus the title and the accompanying honor.

Soon as I do get home, Dad's going to be so proud.

Shepard led them through another lounge suite and out onto a deck. This one was different. The other walkways had been private balconies; this one was public, a resort café. With a sinking feeling, Garrus took in the situation. No fewer than fifteen civilians. Waitresses, resort guests, all completely oblivious to happenings on the other side of the building. Eating, drinking, laughing.

And one bloody asari in blue armor, hunched over in the shadow of a fountain, panting.

He moved forward, but a split second too late. The nonmilitary asari who had never worked law enforcement was already moving. "Vasir! It's over!" T'Soni shouted.

"Damn it," Garrus swore, as the asari Spectre turned, eyes wild, and staggered up toward the nearest table.

"Hey!" Vasir panted to a blonde human waitress. "Hey you!" Her hand flew out, biotics bloomed, and the waitress was pulled into her arms. Vasir still had a pistol, and now she trained it on the human's head. "What's your name?" she murmured.

Civilians were screaming now, toppling tables to crouch behind them, running for the doors, but Vasir didn't care about them. She had her hostage, held in front of her, a human meat shield.

The human woman was white, except for two crimson blotches on her cheeks. Her blue eyes were wide, the whites entirely visible around the retina. She scrabbled at Vasir's arm, then realized that was a really bad idea and went stock still. "M-M-Mariana," she stammered.

"Mariana," Vasir purred. "You want to live, don't you? Tell those people that you want to live."

Garrus fought down a surge of anger at T'Soni. The last thing they'd needed to do was confront the woman in this crowded café. But blaming Liara wouldn't get Vasir's hostage out.

Mariana was crying now. "Please," she begged, looking from T'Soni to Shepard to Tali to Garrus.

"We'll get you out of here safely, Mariana," Shepard promised, holding her ground.

"Well, that's good to hear," Vasir told them. Her face twisted into a snarl, rage and pain in equal measure. She was breathing hard, sweating. "All you had to do was walk away. Now it gets ugly."

"Please," Mariana begged again. "I have a son."

"A son?" Vasir repeated, with a meaningful glance at Shepard. "I've heard losing a parent is just horrific for children. Scars them for life."

T'Soni, to Garrus's right, was trembling. "I'm going to end you, Vasir," she swore, voice quaking with rage.

"We'll handle it . . . Doctor," Shepard said. Garrus tensed, letting his eyes drift sideways. Unlike the professor or Doctor Chakwas, Shepard never used T'Soni's title. Shepard met his gaze with one eye, and it was all the signal he needed to know she wasn't just talking to Liara. "The usual way."

Liara frowned, and Vasir raised her eyebrows. "You want Mariana's little boy to grow up without a mommy, Shepard?" she asked. Her voice went cold and hard. "Thermal clips on the ground, now. Power cells too."

"Is that it?" Shepard scoffed, without making a move to obey.

"What?" Vasir demanded.

"Vasir, I sacrificed hundreds of human lives to save Destiny Ascension," Shepard said. "I unleashed the rachni on the galaxy. So, for your sake, I hope your escape plan doesn't hinge on my hesitating to shoot a damn hostage."

Vasir's eyes narrowed. She was focused on Shepard, ready to shoot if Beth moved so much as a hair. Garrus caught T'Soni's eye. He twitched his left hand, holding the Mantis barrel steady, up just a fraction, and saw Liara's face clear in understanding.

"You're bluffing," Vasir accused Shepard.

Shepard shrugged. "Mmm, yeah. Now!"

At her word, Liara lit up, and a full biotic throw hit right where Vasir gripped the human hostage, blowing them apart. Garrus tracked the Spectre's trajectory in a split second, lined the shot up, and fired.

Shepard was already moving again, getting in between the Spectre and the hostage. But his shot had been good. Vasir was on the ground, gasping, clutching at a new gaping hole in her armor.

"You all right?" Shepard asked Mariana, stooping over her.

The woman climbed to her feet. A little green. Disheveled. Scared out of her mind, but alive. Just like Doctor Michel on the Citadel. She nodded, backing up.

"Good. Go home to your son."

Mariana didn't need anyone to tell her twice. She picked up her uniform skirts and ran. The rest of the deck had cleared, though civilians were still watching the scene from the windows of a nearby room. Ballroom, maybe.

"Liara, good work," Shepard told T'Soni, crossing the ground to Vasir. The asari's heart rate was slowing down. IF showed blood gushing out of her armor, just below her heart. Shepard knelt beside her. "Before. You said you'd read my reports. No one ever pays as much attention as they should."

Vasir coughed, and violet blood dribbled out her lips onto her chin. "Dammit! Dammit! Vakarian! The fucking sniper! Should've . . . should've realized." Her eyes rolled over to Garrus, and her face contorted with hate and bitter, vindictive regret.

"Well. We live and learn. Or don't," Garrus said.

T'Soni was crouched on Vasir's other side, searching the cargo pockets of her armor. She fished out the OSD the Spectre had brandished at them back at the trade center. "Sekat's personal datapad is on this disc," she said. "This has what we need to find the Shadow Broker."

"You're dead!" Vasir growled. "The Shadow Broker has been in power for decades. He's stronger than anything you've ever faced."

"That why you sold out the Council to work for him?" Garrus asked.

Vasir spat blood at him. "Fuck . . . fuck you . . . Vakarian! I'm no Saren! The . . . Broker's given me . . . damn good intel over the years. Intel that's saved lives . . . and kept the Citadel . . . safe. So, if the Broker needs a few . . . a few people to . . . disappear, I'll pay that price without hesitation." Blood was bubbling out of her mouth now. Her eyes were going dark.

"And you think the Council would stand for that, do you?" Shepard asked.

"You hypocrite," Vasir laughed, eyes rolling back into her head. "Why the hell you with her . . . Vakarian? You know who she works for? You know what her friends at Cerberus have done?"

Shepard stood. "I am not with Cerberus," she hissed.

Vasir was fading fast. "Kidnapping kids for biotic death camps . . . your own unit on Akuze! Don't you dare judge me. Don't you . . ."

Garrus watched on his visor as her heart beat once, twice more, then stopped. He nodded at Shepard, and she turned away, moving toward Liara and Tali, standing a few meters away.

"Shepard," Tali said. "I've got files from her omni-tool. Better than a confession for the Nos Astra police." She played back a recording—a low, monotone bass, giving an order.

"Eliminate T'Soni and retrieve the data. Civilian casualties not a concern."

"Good work," Shepard told her. "You have the tool address?"

"And a data trail to the body," Tali confirmed, nodding at Vasir. "We can send it to our contacts and move on, and the police here will be able to shut the file on everything that happened."

"Won't do much about the damages," Shepard said. "Can't sue the Shadow Broker."

"Or Special Tactics and Reconnaissance," Garrus muttered. "Doubt the Citadel will pay damages either. Not for something that happened out here in the Terminus because of an agent working off the books."

Shepard's mouth thinned. "Two agents," she corrected him, calling back to his earlier musings. It didn't make him as happy as it should have. "We should've been more careful. Do you have what we need, Liara?"

Liara had been working over Sekat's OSD for two minutes. She nodded and started moving, walking back toward the waiting cab on the other side of Azure. "I've put the data through to Normandy's computers," she said. "We can be at the Shadow Broker's base in a few hours. He'll know about Vasir before long. If he decides to kill Fe—"

Shepard cut her off. "We'll get Feron out alive."

Liara paused in her stride. She looked around at all of them. "I know," she said. "You're here to help. Just like always."

Shepard stopped, her mouth twisting even further. "I'm here for the Broker."

"And I'm using you," Liara replied. "When we first met on Therum, you saved me from the geth. You fought a krogan battlemaster while I cowered, and now you're doing it again. And I'm still leaning on you for help. Even when—"

Shepard cut her off again. "It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter that you'd prefer anything to doing this with me?" Liara demanded. "That you're only here because it's convenient? A way to keep Cerberus off your back? Well. I suppose I owe you. You were only with them at all because of me."

"Liara," Tali started.

Liara shook her head and started walking again. "I can get us to the Shadow Broker based on Sekat's data. Normandy's stealth drive will keep them from detecting us. The Shadow Broker's agents are still shooting their way through Illium. You called the police, but with luck, in all the confusion, they won't notice we've left until it's too late."

Shepard had started after Liara again. At this, she moved faster, overtaking T'Soni. "People's lives are at stake, Liara," she said. "Innocent people have died."

T'Soni waved a hand. "You know what I mean!"

"Do I?" Shepard demanded. "When I hit the ground back at the trade center, you went after Vasir without a backward look."

"Your new prize biotic had you well in hand," Liara retorted. "You don't think I didn't hear her over the radio, back when we left the center, yelling about how stupid I am? A little fall wasn't going to kill you. I had to stay on Vasir. I had to stay rational, make the call. Like I did with Sekat."

Beth reached out and caught Liara's arm, and T'Soni broke free with a jerk. The two women glared at one another, the tension between them thick as the atmosphere on Pragia.

"You're two years past rational, T'Soni," Beth said. "You wouldn't know it if it had a gun in your face."

Liara's biotics flared, and Garrus stepped forward. "Liara."

The asari turned her glare on him, and for a second, he thought she'd throw him. Then the biotics died down. "I am not going to apologize for bringing her back from the dead!" she hissed. Then she turned her back and walked away. "From here on out, things will be simple. Get in, get Feron, get out. You can kill the Shadow Broker, take out his communications. I don't care. And then we never have to see one another again."

"You think that's what I want?" Shepard demanded.

Liara stopped again. "Isn't it?"

"No! I want you back, Liara," Shepard told her. "Not this . . . whatever you've become. Deals with Cerberus, flaying people alive. You're leaving collateral damage like an orbital strike! This isn't the person I knew three years ago."

Liara laughed. "This is the person you made."

Shepard stepped back like she'd been slapped, and beside Garrus, Tali whispered, "Oh, Keelah." Garrus looked at her, and she looked up at him. "She's always worried about what she does to us," Tali explained in a murmur. "She always feels so guilty about the things we do . . ."

Garrus looked back at Shepard, still in a face-off with the asari, and understood. The commander's burden: accountability for the development of her subordinates. For most commanders, it's enough that their men go on to succeed. But for Shepard, if they succeed in a way she thinks is wrong, that's just another failure.

"What do you want me to say, Shepard?" Liara was asking. "That I mourned you? That I feel guilty because Feron got captured? I made mistakes. I lost people. I helped get you back, and I want to do the same for Feron. Maybe once he's safe, I can think about being something different. Until then, anything less than the best I can do is an insult to the man who saved both of us."

Shepard stared at T'Soni. "Okay," she said finally. Her voice was flat. Defeated. "Let's go."


The battery door opened, but Garrus knew before he looked up that it wouldn't be Shepard. "T'Soni," he said.

Liara walked in, looking abashed. She walked over to the ammo crate he kept by the workbench and sat down. "She—she's donated 100,000 credits to the families and businesses hurt in the attacks today," she said. Her voice was barely audible over the hum of the battery.

Garrus's mandibles tightened. It was almost everything they had left after the repairs to Normandy, and they weren't on Cerberus's payroll anymore. Maybe they could scrounge up some credits in the attack on the broker or on the Cerberus cell they were hitting afterward. He'd felt bad about all the death and property damage they'd left behind today. Still. He didn't want to think about why Shepard might have wanted to fork over all their assets before heading home to the Alliance.

"I'm glad they'll have something," was all he said, though he knew that, despite the fact it was almost all they had left, it would be barely a drop in the bucket toward all the property damage and medical bills they'd left behind them in Nos Astra today. "Might tide a few families over for the next few weeks, anyway."

"Did I—did I screw up today, Garrus?" Liara wasn't looking at him, and for once, Garrus felt older than the hundred-odd-year-old asari. She seemed like the kid she always claimed she was.

"Either of us could've taken out Vasir before things got as far as they did," he said. "You saw her after the first assassination attempt; I thought something was up the second we met her in your apartment. If one of us had made a move, maybe we could've saved a lot of lives. But—would it have stopped the Broker's army?" He sighed. "This was always going to be dangerous.

"The Broker was working with the Collectors. That means they were working with the Reapers. You can say a lot for information neutrality, but somewhere, you have to draw the line."

"You're right," Liara agreed. "But—suppose I've crossed the line, Garrus? What if I've gone so far, there's no way back to the person I used to be, to a person I could recognize or approve of five years ago?"

Garrus hummed. "You realize who you're talking to here, don't you? Since I met Shepard, I've dropped out of Hierarchy service twice. Murderer, failed vigilante—not exactly the turian I wanted to be fresh out of basic either."

He felt Liara's deep blue eyes on him. "It must have been difficult to imagine becoming one of the best snipers in the galaxy," she answered, "a Terminus systems icon with three of the largest mercenary organizations in existence terrified of the very sound of your name. I don't suppose you ever thought you'd be one of only a handful of people alive who can honestly claim they've saved the entire galaxy twice, either. A man who's brought down two Spectres without ever entering Spectre training. And lover to Commander Shepard."

Garrus went hot under his hardsuit. "Well. When you put it like that, it almost sounds like I'm a badass."

"Almost," T'Soni teased. She sighed. "You've been out here doing important work. Joker and Tali and Dr. Chakwas, too. While I—"

"Got Shepard brought back from the dead."

"I wanted to talk with her about that," Liara admitted. "About . . . everything, really. I wanted to apologize. But she's not in her cabin. I had thought she might be with you."

"I knew all that flattery couldn't be for no reason."

"Garrus—"

"It's fine, T'Soni," Garrus told her. He turned to face the asari. "You aren't going to find her when she knows you're looking for her," he said. He had a feeling Shepard was actually next door in the AI core with Legion, specifically because T'Soni probably wouldn't think to look for her there, but he wouldn't tell Liara that. "Give her some time. She'll forgive you. I'm pretty sure she's not actually angry with you at all, just—"

"Disappointed," T'Soni finished. "And probably right to be. Somehow, that just makes things more frustrating than ever."

Garrus smiled. He and T'Soni were probably the two people in the galaxy who knew best what it was like running up against that crushing wave of disapproval. Liara hadn't ever hit the wrong side of it before, but now?

It's probably wrong that I find that so satisfying. Still. Good to know I'm not the only one who can disappoint Shepard—or feel she's being just a little unreasonable.

"Hard living up to the commander's standards," was all he said.

"If there's anyone alive who can."

"It'll work out," Garrus promised. He remembered a conversation with Krios a while back. "She doesn't pick like this at people she doesn't care about. When we drove up to your apartment and saw the cops, she just about had a heart attack."

"I wish she would just—" Liara started, then she stopped. "Is this strange for you?" she asked. "Because of you and her? I know it's common knowledge I made a play back on the SR-1. I should stop. I—"

"And if she'd ever shown any interest in you that way, I'd be worried," Garrus told her.

T'Soni looked rueful but not offended. "I wish you could be threatened," she admitted, "and I wish it was just my pride that wanted it. But you're right. She never—she told me once that all she could ever promise me was her friendship. If I haven't ruined that forever. I had to be grateful that it was more than she gave almost anyone else—except you. I didn't realize until you first showed up with her again this year, but now, looking back, I'm not surprised."

"Huh. More than I can say," Garrus answered. "But—let's not make any assumptions. I'm leaving Normandy in a couple of weeks. Anything could happen."

Liara looked hard at him, like he was some Prothean text she wanted to decode. "I think I understand," she said. "But I shouldn't get my hopes up."

She meant him to laugh, and he did smile. "Sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it. I'm a big girl—or at least, I try to be. But you really think Shepard will come around?"

Garrus met her eyes. "I'd put money on it," he promised. "Anyway, if she doesn't, she's still back. And we're going to help you get your friend."

"That's true," Liara conceded.

Garrus waved a hand at her. "Get some rest, T'Soni. I'm also betting those mercs we faced today on Illium aren't the only ones out there. Big job in the morning."

T'Soni rose. "I'll leave you alone," she said. She moved toward the door, and stopped. "When she does come by? Tell her I am sorry."

She left for her bunk in the crew quarters, and Garrus brought up his omni-tool.

She's gone, if you want to come out of hiding. –G

It was a little sad how soon Shepard entered the battery. Her shoulders and back muscles were tight, and she had a half-guilty, half-defiant expression on her face.

"Were you planning on sleeping tonight, or were you going to hide in the AI core till tomorrow?" Garrus asked.

"I might just take a spacewalk without a suit, now," Shepard muttered.

Garrus caught her eyes. "Don't even joke about that."

"Sorry. I just—she was going to apologize, and I can't hear it yet, that's all. I can't tell her it's all ok—that she started messing with the Shadow Broker to bring me back to a life I never wanted, that she's become a completely different person and blames me for it. Maybe she did do the right thing, and maybe what she is now is down to me. I don't know. But I can't just sit there and let her apologize and tell her it's fine, that we're fine, and I don't care how sad she looks about it."

"Well, that's not true, or you wouldn't be hiding."

"Thank you, Garrus. I felt a little incapable of calling out my own bullshit today," Shepard quipped. She sighed and sank down on the same ammo crate T'Soni had just vacated, burying her face in her hands.

"I'm here to help," Garrus murmured. "You know, you're going to have to talk to her eventually."

"Yeah," Shepard said into her hands. "I know."

"So she's a ruthless murderer who doesn't care who she hurts, so long as she achieves her goals. You could say that about a lot of our friends."

"More and more all the time," Shepard said. She put her hands down and looked up at him. "You think she's right? That I make them that way?"

Garrus hesitated. "I think you make the people under you more competent. What they choose to do with it—or what gets done with it after they leave you—isn't your responsibility. Besides, if you're going to take the blame for Archangel or for Liara—or for Tali," he added, on a hunch, and, seeing her jaw go tight, knew that he'd guessed right, "you also have to take the blame for Wrex. For Commander Alenko's promotion, Grunt's growth this year, and Jack's almost being a normal person now."

Shepard laughed at that. "That was something else back in the Drakon Trade Center, wasn't it? Blackmail material for years, if we wanted it. God, I hope she turns out alright. So. Not my fault, huh? I can just write off what you all do as soon as you step off Normandy?"

"No," Garrus admitted. "But you've got to realize that you can't control it, and you can't control them. Hard for a soldier, I know. Even harder for an officer."

"So, it's 'can't control the shit morons, cowards, and evil people do,' again," Shepard said, quoting something she'd once told him and leaning back against the workbench. "Or your friends, I guess."

"Or your friends," Garrus said. "And it might be a little unfair to penalize the woman who is what she is for love."

Shepard looked up sharply, and Garrus raised both his hands. "I'm not saying what kind of love," he told her. "Just saying that she loves you, and she loves her friend, Feron."

Shepard looked down. "I know," she said. "And hell, I've done some pretty indefensible things for people I didn't give a damn about at the time, like Jack on Purgatory. Just for the sake of a mission. Is what Liara's done that different?" She snorted. "Do I have the right to judge her if it is?"

She looked up at him then, eyes narrowed. "Garrus? Archangel. Why'd you end up doing what you did? Why'd you really go to Omega? I know I got spaced and the Council turned round. Guessing you didn't shut up and they made your life hell, like Jeff's or Mom's. But now suddenly you need to go home, and your dad—C-Sec to the bone, you said once, and he can't be that old—is back on Palaven. To be there for your mom."

Garrus's mandibles tightened. He couldn't meet Shepard's eyes. There was the nosy human he knew. He supposed he should be glad she was feeling better.

He'd found out about his mother just days after Shepard's memorial. Dad had called him in to his office. He'd reported, more because his father was his superior in C-Sec than out of any family duty, sure he was in for another lecture about reckless behavior, chasing Spectres instead of staying at his post, and he wasn't in the mood for it. He'd been spoiling for a fight if Dad said anything remotely like he had after Garrus had first asked leave from Pallin, made one snide comment about how lucky he was that it had all turned out so well like he had after Garrus had rejoined the force. He wanted to fight. Somebody. Anybody.

Then Mom was there, sitting in the chair beside Dad's desk. Shaking. Terrified. Halfway to tears. But still trying to smile. And they'd told him about her recent doctor appointment—the one she'd made about the tremors, the clumsiness, the way she'd been forgetting things lately.

Shepard stood. She crossed the floor to him and placed her hand on his throat. His subvocals were probably just audible to her: a keening, mournful tone—definitely unprofessional, but more of a shame to hide than to vocalize.

Shepard's face creased, and she reached up to cup his face in both her hands. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "Is it bad?"

"Bad enough they've asked me to come home."

Shepard closed her eyes. She rose up on her toes, and touched her forehead to his, comforting him like a woman of his own species might. "We'll get you back to Palaven. Did you need to catch a shuttle back on Illium?"

Garrus shook his head. "I said I wanted to help you out—till you were safe from Cerberus. Reconnected with the Alliance or the Council. I'm not leaving you to the Illusive Man."

"Okay," Shepard murmured. Her thumb moved over the edge of his scar. "Okay. And thank you."

Garrus closed his eyes.

"You want to come up?" Shepard asked him.

He opened his eyes and met hers. They were dark, and a lot softer than he was used to seeing them, sympathetic and grateful and full of fresh understanding. There was still more than a little bit of apprehension and fear there too. He folded his hands over hers.

"On your six," he told her.